#tumblr is my true home so i forget | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theereina · 2 months ago

Text

Let Me Talk

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +2.4K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, anxiety mentioned, childhood trauma mentioned, angst, heartbreak, fluff, a smidge of dirty talk

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels unless requested.🤨

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @theereina. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

It had been four months since I had seen Terry. There was little to no contact besides short phone conversations and quick texts. I would be lying if I said I didn't miss him. It was the little things that made it hard to forget him. The way he always smelled of sandalwood and musk. The way he held my hand when I was anxious. The way his smile lit up a room. The way every shirt he owned molded to his body like a glove. Ugh, I gotta stop.

I wanted nothing more than for him to return home to me, but pride got in the way. Not only for him but for me, too. We were equally as stubborn and stuck in our ways, unyielding to the love we shared. Being right somehow mattered more to each of us— more than a good morning kiss, a massage after a long day, the vows of our marriage.

Letting pride hinder our judgment, I told Terry to leave and not come back. Truthfully, I didn't want him to, I was just angry and tired of fighting. So, when he left without a fight, it reminded me too much of my abandonment trauma. Watching him walk out that door tore me apart. I was once again a five-year-old girl watching her father leave for the last time, never to return. The power Terry held over me in that moment was only a fraction of the hurt I felt. It was like the world around me shattered. With him, Terry took both light and love while I fell further into darkness more and more each day.

In other words, Terry and I couldn't comprehend that we could both be right even with two different perspectives. The basis of the problem as trifling as it seemed was an ugly nuanced one. Unfortunately, Terry was raised by his parents while I had to survive mine. This understanding is what caused the biggest fight we had ever had. No matter how much I explained it, Terry couldn't understand why I did things the way I did.

For context, I have had no contact with my family since I left home after college. I didn't talk to my sisters, brother, stepfather, and definitely not my mother. Terry's nurturing and supportive upbringing made him less receptive to the dysfunction that came with mine. He couldn't fathom not speaking to his family, let alone his mother, for years. So, when he brought up the idea of me reconnecting with them, it was a shock. The first time he asked I reminded him that I had my reasons— he only knew some. The second time I admired his persistence but still declined the offer. However, after the fifth or sixth time, I was fed up. I wanted him to understand how much these people collectively hurt and drained me. After days of explaining and retelling the story, he responded with annoyance— calling me childish and bitter.

Damn right, I was! I had taken care of every single one of them for years. I had put my health on the back burner to ensure they were good. I had stretched myself thin to the point of almost being hospitalized for a mental breakdown. No one other than my mom came, but we all know her true reason for coming— to save face. Considering she never believed or accepted my mental health issues, she just complained the whole time I was in the waiting room. This is the type of stuff I dealt with from them. This lack of care, kindness, appreciation, and love is why I left as soon as I was financially stable enough.

Even after talking about this for days, the only thing I was left with was a heavy heart and teary eyes. The more Terry pressed; the more distant I became. I didn't want it to get this far or this bad, but he wouldn't let it go. His mind was already made up. To him, family is family, and we should forgive them no matter what. Unfortunately, that wasn't and would never be my reality.

Present Day

“Caramel cookie butter iced coffee and a regular hot coffee for… Fallon!” yelled the barista from behind the counter. “That's me,” I said, facing the small woman. “Here you go. Enjoy,” she said, smiling and pushing the drinks toward me. I checked the sticker on the regular coffee to see if they remembered the two sugars. I picked up both drinks and searched for an empty table in the back of the coffee shop. I knew this conversation would result in both of us or at least me ugly crying.

I slid into a booth in the far back corner of the shop, facing the door. I knew that if it became too overwhelming for me, seeing the door would provide a certain level of relief— an exit or escape if needed. Immediately upon sitting, I began to remember some of the memories I and Terry shared here. This quickly became our favorite spot. Plus, it was right down the street from our shared home. Terry would come here almost every Monday and Friday morning to pick up my current favorite drink order. He called it a treat to start the week and a reward for finishing.

This is also the place where we had our first conversation about marriage. I can almost remember Terry's face when I told him I never thought about being married— until I met him. I didn't believe anyone could love me, especially a man of Terry's caliber. I felt like damaged goods that would never be good enough for him or anyone else. So, I never planned for that milestone. Terry's presence in my life felt like a reassuring message from God that I was loved and deserved it— properly.

Oh, God! Not me already crying, and he hasn't even made it. I quickly used one of the napkins to dab my eyes. Taking deep breaths and relaxing my shoulders, I tried my hardest not to get lost in my thoughts. I knew that once I let myself be sucked into that abysmal cycle I would be trapped there before even a word was spoken between us.

I leaned back into the booth, watching the door. Terry wasn't late; I was just extremely early. I needed to prepare myself as much as possible before seeing him.

10 minutes later

ding ding

“Good morning! Welcome to the Coffee Cabin,” yelled the woman from behind the counter. “Hey, good morning,” said a familiar voice. I knew exactly who this was yet my heart refused to settle down. I didn't know how my mind and body would react to seeing him face-to-face for the first time in months. My hands were sweating profusely. How the fuck was I going to make it through this?

“Pumpkin?” Terry said, sitting across from me. “Uh,… Hi,” I said struggling to breathe. “Hey, mama. Look at me. Fallon!” Terry said, leaning over the table and lifting my chin. I looked up to see Terry glaring back at me. Those striking green eyes expressed his concern. His eyes spoke before his mouth could. There was no need to voice his worry.

“Terry, please,” I said, holding his hand. “Don't do that. Just tell me what's wrong,” he said pulling my hand to his lips. “This! What the hell are we doing right now? It's like we aren't even married. I don't…” I rambled. “Pumpkin,” Terry said, trying to stop me. “We aren't living…” I continued. “Pumpkin,” Terry said, gripping my hand. “I don't know what to do with myself half the time. It's…,” I said. “Pumpkin, enough! Stop!” he cried out. I could sense his frustration with my rambling. I hadn't stopped talking since he sat down. “Terry, I'm just trying…,” I said trying to continue. “No. Stop it! This isn't how this was supposed to go. Let…me…talk,” he grunted.

I pulled my hand away and placed it back into my lap. I dropped my head in embarrassment. I hadn't even made it one minute before making a fool of myself. “Listen, I love you. I know you are feeling anxious right now. We both have a lot to say, and that's okay. But before we can continue, I need you to relax, love. Okay?” he said, caressing my cheek. I shook my head, looking back up at him. “I'm sorry. This is hard,” I said. “I know, mama. I know,” he said, wiping away a single fallen tear.

“C’mere,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me up from my seat. “Terry, I…!” I said, trying to pull away from him. “Nah, come to me, Pumpkin,” he said while wrapping his arms around me. It was as if life itself had started again. Terry's embrace broke me in the gentlest way possible. His body swallowed mine, providing me with the comfort I had been craving for months. I missed this man and everything about him.

“I'm sorry. I…,” I said, sniffling into Terry's chest. “Shhh, stop apologizing. I don't need you to apologize. I need you to let me— let me love you, let me take care of you, let me come home,” he said, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. He leaned down and kissed me on the lips. I had never felt so much relief in my life. A single kiss had just washed away all the pain and guilt I had carried for these last four months.

“I don't know what to say. I had all these… these… speeches planned in my head. Just for me to remember nothing,” I said leaning further into Terry. “That's fine. Let me talk, you just listen. Turn your brain off for a minute and relax. Aight?” he said, releasing me from his hold. His hands held onto the sides of my face. He was awaiting an answer, but words were escaping me. Too many thoughts were fighting to claim power over my tongue.

“Turn it off, lil’ mama. Okay? Sit back down for me,” he said, gesturing towards my seat. His hand waved back towards the booth as I slid back in. Terry sat back down in front of me. He reached for my hands and pulled them towards him. It's insane how something as simple as Terry holding my hands made me feel lighter and calmer. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “There you go. Thank you, Pumpkin,” he said while stroking the back of my hands.

“Listen to me, okay? I should have never pressed you so hard about what was going on. Your boundaries were clear. I can see that now and wish I could have seen that then. These last four months have been absolute hell in the most silent way possible. I let my perspective overshadow yours when this was your experience— your reality, not mine. I won't sit here and lie to you like I'll ever understand how you feel. I won't. However, as your husband, it was my job to console you…. and… and care for you. I failed you at that moment. I don't deserve your immediate forgiveness, and I will do whatever you ask to receive it. I… uh… I left you to deal with all those emotions alone when it was my fault that you had to relive it in the first place. I was forcing you to see things my way because I thought I knew what was best for you based on my… my experience. You didn't deserve that. You deserved so much more than I gave you at that moment, and for that, I'm sorry. Sorry for how I handled the situation entirely. From this day forward, I promise to be a better man to you— a better husband. You deserve the world, mama. I love you more than life itself. Please, forgive me. Please,” he pleaded.

By this point, I was sobbing. I didn't need to say a word. I jumped up from my seat and ran around to Terry's side. There was nothing I wanted more than him— all of him. I sat in his lap and held his face in my hands. “Of course, I forgive you. I love you, too. I don't know what to say. Fuck… just… just kiss me already, papa,” I said, looking into Terry's eyes. They were the softest they had been in a while.

Terry’s urge was just as strong as mine as he pulled me in to kiss him on the lips. But, I needed more; so I used my tongue to part his lips. Terry's mouth opened, and I could feel his energy shift. The desire in him ignited like a flame. The yearning was mutually shared. His hands roamed wildly as teeth met tongue. Neither one of us cared that we were in public. Sharing breath and body, we became one again. With passion burning in our bellies, Terry pulled away first. I looked at him to be met with a pained gaze filled with a desperate hunger for something else.

“Pumpkin, I think we should leave. Um… the thoughts that are… uhh, shit… Woman the things I want to do to you have no business being viewed by the public eye,” he said, catching his breath. His chest rose and fell rapidly with every word. “Yeah?” I asked, stroking his ear and swallowing hard. My breathing was equally just as harsh.

Terry's gaze lingered over my body. “Yeah, we need to leave. Now!” he said, guiding me with his hands on my hips. “Did you drive or walk?” he asked, making me face him. “Walked,” I answered softly. “Okay. I drove. Unfortunately for you, you gettin’ in a car with me, and I can't promise to keep my hands to myself. Honestly, we probably not makin’ it home,” he said while leaning down to whisper in my ear. “Oh, fuck… Don't say stuff like that,” I said, clenching my thighs together. “You wanted honesty, mama. Hell, we should put that extended cab to good use for once,” Terry said, his lip curling up into the most sinful smirk. “You're nasty,” I said, hitting him in the chest. “Yea, and? You love it!” he said, pulling me into another kiss.

Part 2 => 🗣

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @cocooned-butterfly @5headsupremacist @ariiijestertheklown

@creartivefairy @miyuhpapayuh @armandosbabymama @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

@nayaxwrites @jimmybutlrr @lovey-3 @curvyambitions @gg-trini

@deja-r @hoouno06 @insidefeelingofanadult @slutsareteacherstoo @skyesthebomb

@blowmymbackout @blackerthings @mymindisneverhere @iburias @androgynousgaz

@becauseimswagman1 @geee3bayyybeee3 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @keyaho

@pocketsizedpanther @sageispunk @charismablu @4ftwonder @ineedmyaccountback

@rebelrel0987 @4pfsukuna @writingsbytee @nayaesworld @babybratzmaraj

@pinkpantheris @honeytoffee @talkswithdesi @blyffe @helloncrocs

@amyhennessyhouse @beenathembo @thiccc-c @qtmkenedy03 @persethegawd

246 notes · View notes

iamyoursonly · 5 months ago

Text

Childhood Best Friend (16/07/2024)

turns out my bakugo obsession wasn’t over so i’m writing him to feed my delusions because I saw this one line on tumblr and I had to write a whole story about it; i wrote this at 2 AM so it’s not the most creative hehe but bear with me

1.5k words — unedited

The thought of having a childhood best friend that you can keep in contact with really drives me insane, not in a bad way though, because it’s the kind of friendship that I crave. I have no idea how much time both parties dedicate to each other to maintain a relationship for this long, and I might be jealous of some of my friends because they have this and mine isn’t as ideal as I hope it was.

“Katsu?” My five-year-old self say, “Would you marry me when we grow up?”

The crimson eyed boy looked at me, holding out that ring pop he’s been eating for a while now and basically finished, “If you’ll have me that is.”

According to his mom, I went around kindergarten holding his hand and calling him “my husband katsu” for a while, and he was always around to protect me when kids doubted what I said. He’d beat them up or threaten them with his explosions saying, “You’re all just jealous that you’re not her, but too bad she’s my wife now so piss off.”

I was always around him and he was always around me, we were literally stuck to the bone.

“Katsu, someone told me I was ugly is that true?” I cried in his arms for the first time when I was six, and he rubbed my head and let me cry it out.

“Whoever told you that must have no taste, you’re breathtaking.” He says.

“What does ‘breaktaking’ mean?” I say.

“Breathtaking. It means you’re so pretty you take someone’s breath away.” He smiles, “I’m also beating them up for putting this nonsense in your head. No one messes with my wife.”

“Don’t beat them up though, please?” I look at him, and his rubs my head and nod.

This all disappeared when I had to leave to move away because my parents found a better job. I held onto his hand and begged my parents to let me stay with him and his family, he also begged, claiming he doesn’t want to be apart from “his wife”.

“Don’t forget me, Katsu.” I start sobbing, “I really don’t want to leave.”

“Can’t you stay?” He asks, red staining his eyes because of the crying he has been doing.

“I can’t, they’re not letting me.” I hold his hand harder, “Promise we’ll meet again?”

“Let’s become heroes together. I’ll become number one and you’ll be alongside me.” He squeezes my hand back. “Let’s meet at UA.”

“Promise?” I ask.

“Promise.”

We pinky promised before my parents shoved me into the car and drove away.

“Hit harder, you’re not doing it right!” My coach screams at me. “Okay, take a break you’re not thinking.”

I sit on the ground, stripping off my boxing gear then throwing them to the ground, “Fuck.” How am I going to be good enough to catch up to him? He’s gifted, hardworking and talented. It’s not possible to be on the same level as him without training harder, and I’m not even hitting right…

“I’m done, let me do it again!” I say to my coach, who’s wiping the pads I’ve been hitting. She smiles and signals me to start. I throw I few punches at her, then a few kicks, and some more punches. “That’s the spirit, young lady!” She says as I throw more kicks at her.

“Good work today,” She pats my shoulder, “See you tomorrow.”

I smile at her before packing my bags and leaving, stretching a bit before I take a taxi home to revise for tomorrow morning’s tests. I take out the small notebook I keep in my bag and start memorizing some main points from the book, “Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.” I whisper.

I manage to get a taxi, I get in and sit down and continue studying. After a while, I look out of the window, slowly rolling down the glass after getting the driver’s permission. Feeling the night air against my face, I start to feel home sick. It’s been ten years since I left Japan, and I’ve been doing everything he would just so I can get in UA. And I miss him so much.

“Congratulations! You’re accepted into UA high school, we’re looking forward to seeing you on our first day!“

I scream at this news before telling my parents and they were overjoyed also. They willingly bought me plane tickets back to Japan and even called Katsuki’s family to have them take care of me for the mean time, in which they agreed to. And all I could think about that night was how happy he would be when he sees me again.

He was not happy, at least I don’t think he is. He has this scowl over his face and he’s gotten so tall and buff since ten years ago.

“You’re that loser girl I hung out with? I literally have no fuckin’ memory of you since you’re so fuckin’ insignificant to me.”

Wow. He’s definitely changed so much.

“Katsu, I kept my promise, I got into UA and now I’m back.” I say.

“So? What do you want me to say? Congrats? Yeah no shit, everyone craves validation when it comes to me.” He says, “Congrats loser, for making the bare minimum to get in like it’s fuckin’ challenging.”

Okay he’s just rude now, where was that sweet old Katsuki I missed. So I just rolled my eyes at him and went to their guest room to settle down. In which Mitsuki welcomed me with a whole party that Katsuki was not happy about.

New school year, new me. I wear my UA uniform, ready for a new school year with more fun and joy every year. Until some weird guy stopped me and Katsuki on our way to school.

“Hey girlie, you look so fine you should be called mine. Wanna go out with me?” He winks, and I cringed at him. Katsuki full on glared at him, looking pissed.

“She doesn’t wanna fuckin’ go out with you, why would she downgrade herself for a fucker like you?” Katsuki grabbed my hand and started leaving.

He told him off for me. He cares.

“Why are you even helping that whore?” That weirdo asked Katsuki, and he glared daggers into him.

“No one can say that to her when I’m around, say that again and you’ll lose your dick.” Katsuki threatens him again and wraps his arms around my waist.

He turns to me, his face so close to mine before he says, “Let’s go.”

Since when was his face so masculine and defined. He definitely had a big glow up because how could one be so breathtaking?

“Katsu.” I say, “What was that for? Thought you hated me.”

“Still do, but only I can degrade you.” He answers.

“Possessive much?” I joke, but I could feel his grip on my waist tighten. So I just shut up and walk with him.

When we got home that day, Mitsuki made us fried chicken and some extra spicy mapo tofu (katsu’s favourite).

“Remember when the two of you got married when you were five? Katsuki gave you his ring pop after you asked him if he’d marry you and he said something like ‘if you’ll have me’? Oh goodness I remember it like it was yesterday.” She chuckled with her husband as Katsuki and I stared at each other awkwardly.

“Shut up you old hag.” Katsuki says, his ears red, “I’m going back to my room.”

Before he leaves the table, he drags me with him and we enter his room before he locks the door.

“So,” He starts, “What now?”

I look at him, “You dragged me in, you tell me.”

“It’s nothing I just needed a break from them.” He shrugged, “It’s not like I’m fuckin’ embarrassed of us or anything.”

There was a moment of loud silence.

“Katsu,” I break the awkwardness, “Can we like start again?”

“Like what, pretend that you never left me?” He says, his tone sounded like he’s hurt.

“I didn’t want to, and you know it.” I look him in the eye, and he keeps the eye contact.

“Missed you so fuckin’ much and now you’re here,” He puts his head on my shoulder, basically whispering into my ear, “I hate how you’re my weak spot and how I can’t properly get over you even though we were basically children.”

“Katsuki, listen.” I hold his face and he’s so close to me I could feel his breath on my face.

“Yeah?” He looks at me, features softening.

“Be my boyfriend, Katsuki.” I murmured softly, “For real this time. I swear the only person I’ve loved is you.”

He laughed out loud, “Thought we were married all along, wifey.”

I hug him tight and he speaks, “Don’t leave me again okay?”

“Promise.” I chuckled, “Also you need to get me another ring, I might have left the ring pop with my family.”

“You silly bitch. You’re lucky I love you.” He gently smacks me.

“And I love you too.” I smile.

…“And now, I pronounce the two of you husband and wife.”

Maybe this childhood best friend thing that I had wasn’t that bad either, seeing how we have two children together right now makes me smile at our memories together as a child. My breathtaking childhood best friend and the pro hero Dynamight that I could call my husband until the end of time.

#mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo #bakugou x reader #bnha #my hero academia #drabble #nah #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #i love him so much #bakugo katuski #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou x you

336 notes · View notes

talia-black · 7 months ago

Text

RELATIONSHIP HEADCANNONS

Mondstadt Boys

Nothing sexual is explicitly mentioned in this, only vaguely suggestive for Venti. For all of the younger characters it is strictly romantic. (And before you come at me in the comments, I went to high school. I’ve seen close romantic relationships between teenagers that never even verged on sexual and would never even consider writing an underaged character in such a light.)

This is also my first time making a post like this, so please be nice. Any advice is welcome since I’m still relatively new to Tumblr.

Kaeya-

Kaeya would never in a million years consider dating someone with serious romantic intentions, even if his feelings were fully reciprocated. His past, his secrets, his ties to so many dangerous factions would put them in immediate danger at all times, and if there’s one thing we know about Kaeya it's that he would do anything to protect the people he loves. Including breaking both his and their hearts in the process. But if he was free from all of that, Kaeya would love an SO who he could just relax around. Just be Kaeya instead of everything else. They would be his safe space, his only true home outside of Dawn Winery, and the true meaning of freedom for him.

What Kaeya didn’t know he wanted in a significant other was someone who could see past his masks instinctively. They never commented on his half-truths, his bluffs, his misdirections. But through the briefest of eye contact he knew that you knew exactly what he was doing. He comes back home in the early hours of the morning with bloody knuckles and open wounds, they are still up and bandages him while talking softly about whatever gossip had been hot on the market that morning.

Kaeya is flirtatious by nature, and his playboy attitude extends to them in public so many don’t think their relationship is that serious. But behind closed doors, with his heart open and gently placed in their hands, you would think they were divine in nature. They laughed at the attempts of other people to flirt with him, because they already knew that his heart belonged to them.

Diluc-

Much like Kaeya, Diluc knows he lives too dangerous a life to consider a romantic relationship. Unlike Kaeya though, he craves that connection just a little more fiercely than Kaeya. While Kaeya is constantly surrounded by the friendly comradery of the Knights, Diluc is far more isolated. Of course he has Adeline, Elzer, and the other workers at the Dawn Winery who’ve known him since he was a child, but he doesn’t share any close friendships that goes to on a regular basis. What Diluc knows he would want in an SO more than anything else is companionship. If he could afford to, he wouldn’t care where they’re from or what their background is if they were able to make him forget about his responsibilities for just a little bit. Someone he can come home to.

What Diluc didn’t know he wanted was someone who could help him repair his stunted relationships. Someone who invites Kaeya over for tea while they know he will be home and eventually coax both of the brothers to dig up five years worth of skeletons and come to a much better understanding. Someone who helps him at the bar after long days working in the vineyard, keeping an ear out for anything people might not otherwise let slip near the intimidating man. Above all else, Diluc did not know what he wanted was a true partner who was as dedicated to his own wellbeing as he was to theirs.

Diluc would not be showy about his affection beyond what was appropriate for a gentleman. Arm hooked around yours, hand against lower back, and maybe a quick peck on the lips if they had relative privacy. Back home though, this man is so touch-starved that he will be wrapped around his SO for as much time as possible. Playing chess? Too bad, they have to move their pieces while sitting on his side of the board. Reading a book? Someone’s head is in the other person’s lap. Sleeping? They only use a thin sheet because Diluc is a heater and plasters himself to his SO’s back and tucks them under his chin like a stuffed animal.

Venti-

Wow. You thought the previous two were traumatized? Venti has watched entire civilizations be wiped from remembrance at the whims of the Heavenly Principles and does everything in his power to make Monstadt seem like less of a threat in order to prevent the same thing from happening to him. Nearly all of his significant relationships have been ended by death or time, so the thought of having an SO, especially an immortal one, would terrify him. Contrary to popular thinking, I think Venti would want an SO who is mortal. 60-70 years of bliss, forever immortalized in song, and out of reach from the claws of the Heavenly Principles.

What Venti didn’t know he wanted was an SO who was an artist themselves. He was so used to being the performer, the one expected to entertain the audience with story and song. With just a little instruction (and maybe a blessing made on a bet) they were already able to rival Venti’s prowess with a lyre. It made quite the stir in Mondsadt, as Venti had been unmatched for years, and soon fan clubs were formed. Whether they were being shipped or slandered, there was none who could deny the inherent chemistry between Venti and his rival. In fact, there was no clear confirmation on their relationship until Venti drank nearly half of the Angel Share’s stock on a dare and kissed them full on the mouth. And even then the heated debate persisted. Until one day, they climbed on top of the church and belted out a serenade for all of Monstadt to hear before proposing to their “cheeky, bird-brained, bastard who also happens to be the love of their life”. Yeah, Venti may or may not have caused a mini hurricane to knock them off their feet so he could sweep them away to Starsnatch Cliff.

Venti is flirty, but after he starts seriously courting his SO he noticeably tones it down. Creative and blush-inducing complements to his audience were still common, but nothing truly improper. In private… he shared an ungodly amount of characteristics with those cats he’s allergic to. Spoiled with kisses and cuddles, demanding when he goes without their attention for more than a few minutes, and if they’re open to it, always ready for more exciting activities. Like stated previously, Venti doesn��t want his SO to be immortal. As much as their death will hurt, at least he was able to make sure that their short life ended peacefully and with a full heart. He will sing your songs and tell the tale of the two bards who had captured each other’s hearts. Besides, even he will return to the winds one day. And then will be able to reunite with them, and all of his old friends.

Razor-

Honestly, Razor’s concept of a romantic relationship between two humans is either completely nonexistent or radically underdeveloped. He’s seen wolves court and mate (Though Andrius keeps Razor away during mating season. Young pups should not witness such things) so I think that any kind of romantic action would just come off as heavily platonic or familial. He’s never thought about finding any sort of life-partner, all he wants is to protect his family, so whatever vague idea of an SO or “mate” Razor has would involve him taking care of them and being taken care of in turn.

What Razor didn’t suspect was that his SO would be so willing to be accepted into his Lupical. While he had friends like Bennett and Klee who were nice to him whenever they saw him around, but most people still tended to avoid Razor. It hurt a bit, but as long as Razor had his Lupical and his friends, he never gave anyone else much thought. Until one day, he found an adventurer freeing a wolf cub who had gotten its paw stuck in a hunting trap. Such traps should not have been so close to the wolves’ territory, and Razor found out later that they had come on a commission from the Knights to investigate. However, Razor noticed how in the process of freeing and bandaging the pup, they had torn open their hands. He had immediately gone looking for Wolfhook, and waited until night when they had fallen asleep to sneak in and apply the berry paste. He didn’t want to frighten them, and instead opted to watch over them while they slept. He fell asleep sometime during the early morning, and only awoke to the smell of meat cooking. He opened his eyes to see the adventurer watching him from the opposite side of the fire, a plate of berries and steaming meat set near him.

Razor was quickly enamored by the lone adventurer. They were a new recruit, and had actually heard of Razor from Katheryne when they accepted the commission. Over time, the adventurer ended up taking every opportunity possible to visit Razor. The boy’s excitement whenever he caught their scent on the wind never lessened, and both of them often spent nights in the middle of Wolvendom in blissful silence. Razor never felt like he had to talk much around them, and the same could be said of them. The two were able to discern most of what they needed to from body language, facial expressions, and scent in Razor’s case at times. It didn’t take long for them to be introduced to the rest of Razor’s Lupical. The pup they had rescued recognized them immediately and spent the entire evening receiving head scratches. As midnight approached, the older wolves nudged Razor towards their slumped over form. They had passed out with most of the pups on top of them, and Razor immediately curled up behind them with his chin resting over their exposed neck protectively. Just as he had watched the wolves do with their mates.

Albedo-

Wow. Kinda a mix of Kaeya and Razor; he is flirty (His teapot voice lines startled a blush out of me the first time I heard them) but way more subtle about it. But I also don’t think he has ever seriously considered a romantic relationship with someone. While the thought had crossed his mind once or twice, who could he possibly meet who would be compatible with him? His personal identity as a homunculus and a creation of Rhinedottr means he is already a nonhuman entity, and his title as Mondstadt’s Chief Alchemist and his work keeps most of his relationships strictly professional. Even his friendships are mostly cordial, though he does enjoy the company of others at times. This man is always doing something, so entertaining romantic notions for anyone has never entered the picture. However, I think he would like a SO similar to Fanon!Traveler Lumine (And I’m not just saying this because I’m on the Albelumi ship I promise). Someone who managed to catch Albedo’s attention would need to have something inherently unique about them. Someone who manages to keep his attention on them for a significant period of time would have to have an equally appealing, lighthearted personality that practically lit up the room whenever they walked in.

What Albedo did not expect from his SO was someone who showed so much care for him. Someone who is curious about Albedo’s work, even if they don’t fully understand it. Someone who may not understand art, but recognizes the effort Albedo puts into his drawings. Someone who invites (read: coerces) Albedo out of his lab to go eat at Good Hunter or take the evening off to relax at Angels Share. Their occupation and background doesn’t mean much to him personally, the information is only relevant if it pertains to their health or behavior. Only one issue with this set up, even if feelings are completely reciprocated. Albedo has no clue what these feelings are and where they are coming from and will spend far too much time deliberating on what he should do to them. Much to the exasperation of all of the Knight and his fellow alchemists. Once Albedo does a full analysis of himself (bloodwork, brain scans, chemical analysis, a few experiments to see how he reacts to certain stimuli, this man is nothing if not thorough) he will come to the conclusion that he is in love. (Sucrose sighs when Albedo brings the test results to her.) And he immediately launches himself into a new kind of research. He asks around about the best way to confess, and eventually decides to cultivate a new species of flowers specifically for them and then just cut to the chase over a private picnic under the stars. This man already has no filter, so once he manages to correctly identify the emotions he is feeling, the length of time between then and the actual confession would be much shorter.

Those flowers Albedo cultivates in their honor would be everywhere once his SO admitted their feelings were mutual. He dedicated an entire section of the alchemists’ greenhouse to them and ordered for no one else to touch them except for him. They would find the flowers in their hair, in between books, scattered around Albedo’s workspace, and somehow in their house. Similar to Diluc, the few times Albedo and his SO were out together in public people would know that they’re dating, but beside the fact that the two were almost always holding hands and the occasional peck on the cheek, neither were overly affectionate in public. Albedo would also be incredibly flexible in private when it came to their dynamic. He likes both giving and receiving affection and doesn’t really have a preference as long as he can spend as much time as possible in their company when he’s not working. They like to follow him on his expeditions to Dragonspine, mainly for the excuse to snuggle with Albedo every night when they get cold. The rest of the Knights adjusted well to Albedo’s SO, even if Sucrose needed to take on more work at times so Albedo could spend more time with them. The Knights closest to Albedo watched with fascination as the typically workaholic alchemist actually took lunch breaks, got in late, and left the moment he was satisfied with the progress of his experiments. What they don’t see is how the way he treats his SO in private is almost reverent. They are his muse, his lover, and his eternal companion (because unlike Venti, Albedo would 100% find a way for his SO the share his lifespan if they so chose to) and in one of his dark moments, Albedo realizes just how much he would ruin if it meant they stayed safe.

Also, Alice would 100% show up for the first time in years just to help her son get ready for his first date.

Haven’t played Bennett’s hangout quest yet and don’t know enough about his character so I will probably post him with another nation once I get around to it.

I’ll get around to doing Liyue if enough people decide they like this.

#genshin impact #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin x you #relationship headcanons #venti x reader #razor x reader #albedo x reader #diluc headcanons #kaeya headcanons #venti headcanons #razor headcannons #albedo headcanons

266 notes · View notes

maidragoste · 1 year ago

Text

Things I think Jacaerys Velaryon would do if he were your boyfriend

This whole week I was thinking about Jacaerys so I ended up writing this

Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated. I hope you like it 🥰🥰💕💕

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

•Let me tell you that if English is not your first language then Jacaerys LOVES it when you speak in your native language. He is always very curious about the difference between their languages, he asks you if some words have a different meaning in your country. I see him going to the supermarket with you and at some point he starts asking you what they call a certain product in your country.

•Jace would work hard to learn your native language. Most of the time his pronunciation is clumsy but every time you hear him speaking in your native language you feel like you fall in love with him ten thousand times more.

The word he knows how to say best is "I love you" because he never stops saying it to you.

•If you are vegetarian or vegan I can see Jace searching the internet for good places to go eat together. He loves trying new food with you.

Plus his house is always stocked with a couple of vegan products. One time he got mad at Luke because when you came to see him there were no more of your vegan cookies left because his brother ate them and didn't tell him.

•Sometimes when you feel like painting your nails but you're in lazy mode Jace ends up being the one to do it for you. The two of you talk nonsense while he carefully runs the polish over your nails.

•Every time he sees a tik tok from a series or a book that he knows you like, he sends it to you.

•Whenever you're too caught up in studying, Jace reminds you to hydrate and eat something. Most of the time he orders something from your favorite fast food place to give you a pamper after so many hours of studying.

•I see Jacaerys as someone very touchy. Every time you go out together he can't be without holding your hand or his hand around your waist or at least hugging you by the shoulders. He needs to have you close.

•After seeing your reaction to letting his hair long. Jacaerys stopped wearing it short. He loves seeing how nervous you get every time he catches you staring at him. He always teases you by making you pout and he loves kissing you.I only know that Jacaerys pretends to forget his clothes at your house but in reality, he does it on purpose because he loves to see you later wearing his clothes.

•My man has two playlists about you. One with all your favorite songs and another with the songs that make him think of you. In the latter there are these songs:

"You can hear it in the silence, silence, you

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you

You can see it with the lights out, lights out

You are in love, true love" — You Are in Love, Taylor Swift.

"Cause all of the small things that you do

Are what remind me why I fell for you

And when we're apart, and I'm missing you

I close my eyes and all I see is you

And the small things you do" — Those Eyes, New West.

"I wanna be your vacuum cleaner

Breathing in your dust

I wanna be your Ford Cortina

I will never rust

If you like your coffee hot

Let me be your coffee pot

You call the shots, babe

I just wanna be yours" — I Wanna Be Yours, Arctic Monkeys.

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

(I can never look away)

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you— Daylight, Taylor Swift.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works:

@chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @cicaspair418 @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @diorchaiamet @partypoison00 @camy85 @fluffly @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @targaryenmoony @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @lizlovecraft @natashaobo @nyenye @savagemickey03

Tumblr won't let me tag them: @arabis-world @nzygftoji @lauufeysonnn @Snileykiddie08 @pictureofcaroline @sydneyyyya

@minaxcarter @marytargaryen @bugheadkids @missusnora @sabi127 @buckysmainhxe

If you want to be part of my taglist

hotd masterlist

561 notes · View notes

byfulcrums · 8 months ago

Text

Fuck it. Invincible Tumblr

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Wake up to see the aliens attacking again. God fucking damn it.

❤️ justamonstergirl Follow

Imagine how the aliens feel after seeing you

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Get better insults. You won't be insulting anyone that way

❤️ justamonstergirl Follow

Nahhh. Don't need to. You already humiliate yourself every time you open your mouth

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Your entire existence is an insult

☪️ superherofan Follow

i forget that superheroes have social media and regularly use it.... invincible has Tumblr holy shit

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

Boo.

☪️ superherofan Follow

OMG??

#HI MR INVINCIBLE SIR #I SWEAR ALL MY A/B/O FICS WERE WRITTEN OUT OF LOVE

🌙 artemislover Follow

Can't believe I have to say this, but can you guys please stop making Omni-Man x Immortal theories?!?!

Ik you think the idea of them having been romantically involved is funny, but c'mon, people

It is true that there should be more openly queer superheroes, but the fact that there are people who genuinely believe they fucked is wild...

Besides, we have to stop following the lives of superheroes that closely. They deserve to get some privacy too! They're still people

Also, didn't Omni-Man once mention his wife?? And son?? Shipping him w a man when he's clearly straight and in an established relationship is stupid

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

These are all great points but they've definitely fucked

🌙 artemislover Follow

INVINCIBLE?????

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

Godddddd. My parents just do not know what privacy is, PLEASE STOP HAVING SEX WHEN I MIGHT BE HOME... please you're killing me

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

Wait, shit, wrong blog...

🌭 hotdog Follow

shocking revelation: invincible has parents

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

??? Of course I have parents. Where'd you think I came from?

🌭 hotdog Follow

Honestly i thought you were from mars

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

from MARS????

#i'm not martian??? i don't even look martian #do i look martian?

💃 thedancingquinn Follow

ATOM EVE LIKES MY FAVORITE BAND????

🚫 ohgodpleaseno Follow

really? How do you know?

💃 thedancingquinn Follow

Okay quick storytime

My friends and I wanted to go to see this band live for a LONG time, so we saved up money for years until we could finally afford it, right?

Well, the day we finally get to see them live, I look up and I see Atom Eve, just. Flying there. Above the crowd

She was singing, apparently very loudly and she looked like she was having sm fun. She saw me and waved!!! Atom Eve!!!! Waved at me!!!!!!!

🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow

💃 thedancingquinn Follow

WAIT R YOU THE ACTUAL ATOM EVE

🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow

Yeah. Check my Insta, there's a link to this blog!

💃 thedancingquinn Follow

AFKFHFHFHFJDJDJDJDDJDHFHSUEUEJEJ

#ATOM EVE TALKED TO ME!!!!!!

🤖 officialrobot Follow

Today, Monster Girl told me to download this app and create a blog — I did not think it was necessary, but she insisted.

I decided to listen to her. She was very persuasive.

I will be sharing things about my day, as she has told me to do. Expect to hear from me after this.

👀 eyaseyaseays Follow

you really think we're gonna believe you're the real Robot?? C'mon.

‼️ notafurryyet Follow

Dude, RP exists. Let people live their lives in peace

❤️ justamonstergirl Follow

This is so funny

‼️ notafurryyet Follow

That's... The real monster girl. Replying to a fake Robot post...

Dude I think he's real

🎉 partyshitter Follow

The new Guardians are a fucking shit show. Are we seriously meant to believe they're going to protect us? Really??

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Oh Id like to see YOU almost get killed every single fucking day without one fucking break only for asholes like you to shit on us like that. We almost die every single day!!! Were the ones geting our hands dirty not you

🤖 officialrobot Follow

I'd* assholes* We're*

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Your supposed to be with me in this one

🤖 officialrobot Follow

You're*

☪️ somanykates Follow

The Immortal kinda... 👀

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

WHAT

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

I cant believe she cheated on me... what a bitch

🧬 atomevesss Follow

😐

☪️ somanykates Follow

We're going to have a fucking talk, Rex.

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Shit

🍐 shrinkshrek Follow

You had this one coming buddy

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

The fact that Miles Morales canonically reads JJK, though...

🔫 shootmeplease Follow

INVINCIBLE LIKES MARVEL?? AND JJK???

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

Why is everyone always surprised when I like something? I don't get it

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow

I cannot have just found out you're still alive through Tumblr...

🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow

Seriously though. Are you okay now? I know you're not mentally, after the whole Chicago thing w your dad, but at least physically?

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

I'll survive, I guess

💔 thisishowtobeah Follow

INVINCIBLE?? It is such a relief to see you're still here after the whole Chicago ordeal Mr Invincible

📸 definitelyinsanebaby Follow

Yeah maybe don't remind him of that rn??

💔 thisishowtobeah Follow

OH SHIT I'M SO SORRY

#I AM SO SO SO SORRY #omg i hope you're doing good mr invincible :(((

#invincible #invincible series #invincible comic #mark grayson #atom eve #rex splode #kate cha #shrinking rae #robot invincible #monster girl #unreality #fake tumblr #fake social media #this is fun #avis' post

162 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 1 year ago

Note

You've encountered site changes over time as a fan elder, what do you make of Tumblr potentially being put out to pasture? Tumblr was my coming of age fan site, and im looking for advice to transition to the next thing with grace and less bitterness than I feel now.

Ahaha. God, you should have heard the howling about LJ. "Fandom is over!" "Never again shall we dwell in fandom's True Home!" etc.

Hell, this endless "only LJ was good" crap turns up in replies here on posts where I as OP have very clearly laid out why that's rose colored glasses nonsense and you can so make friends on tumblr, have a conversation on tumblr, etc.

I had my crabby phase about this during the transition from Yahoo Groups to LJ. A lot of the real olds had it over paper zines and the transition to the internet.

I don't know if reading these hilariously samey old posts would help. It does give perspective, I think.

As for what you should do, do what I did with Tumblr:

Look around to identify the Next Thing fandom is going to camp out on.

It may take a few guesses and some time to figure this out. You will likely not be an early adopter. Fandom was well established here by the time I joined at the end of 2010. Of course, by now, all those 2009 and before accounts are long gone, but at the time, I was a n00b joining other people's space despite having been in fandom for ages.

Don't expect to enjoy it

I didn't join tumblr because I liked it. In fact, I despised it. I kept right on despising it until a brief stint in Sherlock fandom, a fandom that was so active here at the time that I was able to finally see the good aspects of the site's structure and features.

This is the mistake a lot of people make. They give things a cursory try, don't enjoy them, and go "not for me", forgetting that the last site also had a steep learning curve that was either difficult or that they didn't notice because they were in a different phase of their life.

Bitterness and grief are, frankly, an inherent part of the process. You can try not to be a debbie downer in your public comments, but you can't just not feel those things during the awkward part of the transition. Sometimes, acting positive and cutting off excessively negative thoughts can make you feel less negative overall, but it doesn't happen immediately.

Accept that feeling cranky and old is both a you problem and a state of mind, not a property of the new site

Relatedly, the way we remember fandom platform X feeling usually has more to do with us being in college with fandom friends down the hall or having discovered Our People for the first time or some other time when we had a lot of energy and positive emotions. Often, we were in the throes of a first or new fandom love too, probably for some megafandom that other people also cared about at the same time.

When fandom is leaving some site, there's a grieving process anyway, but we're also often in a worse part of our lives for starting new things. We're busy. We're tired. We're between fandoms. We feel like we already paid our dues to build up our community. Why should we have to start again?

But let me tell you, you always need to start again eventually. I go to a weekly vidders' zoom chat, and a lot of the people in there are old as balls, including Kandy, the person who invented vidding back in the 70s. She's a lot of decades and a few cancers in, and she had to relearn how to vid on a computer after transitioning from slideshows to VCR vidding back in the day. If bad health, platform changes, and dead friends were going to stop her, she'd be long gone.

It's like sharks: you stop swimming, you die.

This isn't just about fandom, obviously. It's about avoiding a midlife crisis and, later, about avoiding feeling emotionally geriatric even when your body is falling apart.

Change gets us all, but being mentally old is a choice. The real reason I gave tumblr such a try was that I had been so resistant to getting on LJ. I was 20. Even a year later, it was fucking embarrassing to have been a crotchety old hag as a college student. I promised myself I'd soldier through the next change instead of dragging my feet about it. And it totally worked in the end! But boy did it not make the transition any less unpleasant emotionally!

Find your joy

As is obvious from the above, the vast majority of the problem is just emotions. Fandom has been on a million broken sites with shitty features. We go where the people are, regardless of whether it has the technological aspects we liked at the last place. The actual shape of that platform is largely irrelevant.

What does matter is whether we as an individual fan are still excited and happy about something. I was between fandoms recently and went looking around for BL series I hadn't watched yet. People kept suggesting things set in the present day with too-cheesy production values and too many banal schoolboys in modern day settings without even anything spicy going on. I realized that the BL/danmei scene wasn't really cutting it for me and I should go for production values and genre and non-canon ships. You probably scrolled annoyedly past the picspams that resulted.

(Of course, hilariously, someone has now shown me the trailer of Red Peafowl, so someone may be making BL that feels like it's for me after all. Look at all that badwrong and very dark color grading.)

When you're in a good place emotionally, it's a hell of a lot easier to weather any change, and when you have a new fandom, it's a lot easier to connect with other fans.

A lot of people wait around for lightning to strike twice. They found their first fandom by accident, and they expect it to happen seamlessly again. For me, it's far more productive to brute force it: collect up a big list of what's popular or what's new and go through it till you find things you might like, then try them all.

And part of this, obviously, is not waiting for other fans to make the party happen. The more you need to join something other people are already doing, the less choice you'll have in fandoms or in platforms. If you aren't picky and just go where the tropey longfic is, that can work, but even then, favorite authors disappear or go to fandoms you hate and former megafandoms dry up. If you're the one bringing the party, it's a lot easier to find a new fandom or platform or community to have fun in.

265 notes · View notes

petalruesimblr · 9 months ago

Text

Hello Simblr community!

I'm happy to be back with my second #Followers Gift and I'm amazed by the growth I've seen in just a few weeks since I shared my first one. The increased number of followers and interactions with my recent posts has been beyond my expectations and I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to each and every one of you!

To show my appreciation, I'm excited to share a small gift with you which will be posted in two parts. This first part features a starter apartment with three fully furnished units, priced in the range of §16,400 to §21,000.

It's not much but I hope you all like it and I really appreciate all the likes, reblogs and downloads! For new visitors, welcome and feel free to browse my Tumblr by checking out the pinned post for easier navigation. Comments, feedbacks, follows or just to say Hi are are always welcome!

Click on ’Keep Reading’ below for more information and pictures of the starter apartment.

XOXO, petalrue 🌺

Econo Apartments

Download Link:

Sim File Share

Description:

Welcome to this modest apartment building, offering three units for your Sim's convenience. Despite the occasional charm of peeling paint and the faint aroma of mystery, these spaces provide a cozy retreat amidst the chaos of city living. So, whether you're dodging rogue pigeons or enjoying the rustic ambiance, there's never a dull moment in this urban abode.

Lot Details:

Lot Size: 20x20 Version: 1.42 Store Content: None CC Used: None Packs used: The Sims 3, Late Night (Apt/Elevators/Mailbox and Trash Chute), World Adventures (Window, Wallpaper), Pets, Generations, Seasons, Ambitions (Tree) File Type: Package

First Apartment:

Price Furnished: 16,404 Price Unfurnished: 1,486 Features: Suitable for 2 Sims, 1 Bedroom, 1 Bathroom, Kitchen Dining area and Living Room

Second Apartment:

Price Furnished: 19,447 Price Unfurnished: 2,605 Features: Suitable for 3 Sims, 2 Bedrooms, 1 Bathroom, Kitchen Dining area and Living Room

Third Apartment:

Price Furnished: 20,993 Price Unfurnished: 3,349 Features: Suitable for 4 Sims, 2 Bedrooms, 1 Bathroom, Kitchen Dining area and Living Room

📣Please note that there are Hidden Room Markers placed on the second and third apartments thus once you place the lot in your game, the available room for purchase will be the first apartment. I have also set the second and third apartment doors to NPC so any homeless/service Sims will use those to 'go home'.

If you prefer the second or third apartments, please enable “testingcheatsenabled true”, “RestrictBuildBuyInBuildings Off” and “buydebug on” after to remove the Hidden Room Markers and place it to the other room you will not be using. Don't forget to remove the NPC Door tag by holding CTRL + SHIFT and click on the door to select the "Unmake NPC Door" option.

This lot has been play-tested however I noticed that Sims tend to prioritize using nearby objects. For example, if you're on the first floor and select the elevator to go up, the Sim will opt for the nearest option, which is the stairs versus if you select the third floor, Sims will then choose the elevator.

I’ll be sharing the second small gift with you shortly, likely just a few minutes after this post. Stay tuned!

#petalruesimblr #residential lot #lots #followers gift #the sims 3 apartment #the sims 3 #ts3 apartment #ts3 #ts3 simblr #sims 3 download #sims 3 screenshots #ts3 download #ts3 screenshots #ts3 simmer #sims 3 lots #sims 3 #ts3 community

100 notes · View notes

hailqiqi · 4 months ago

Text

Done Right, in the Proper Place

In memory of Quil Appreciation Weekend...! I keep forgetting to post my fics to tumblr, which is very terrible of me. This fic is my Garden Party gift for @xluminaheart

Words: 3,319

Read in full below or on AO3 here

>>>>>>>>>⚔︎

It was almost funny, really, how quickly hope died. One minute you’d be full of zest, raring to take on the next big challenge after surviving the odds – top of the world, invincible. The next you were gazing at your own blood, transfixed by the way flesh is actually layered like it is in the first aid books and oh, that couldn’t be a good sign, could it?

It wasn’t, it couldn’t be. And unless – probably, even if – there was a first aid kit somewhere in this godforsaken hellhole, there wasn’t anything that could be done about it.

His exposed flesh glistened darkly, almost ominously. It’s me, it seemed to say. I’m the reason you were finally so useful. I’ve been here all along.

Right then. He released the fabric, letting the feathers fall back into place and hide it all from view. Lucy’s gaze was still on him, but hell if he knew what to say.

Sometimes she walks too close to the grave, Lockwood had once said. And now here she stood in front of him, her boots covered in ice, his very own angel of death.

‘Well,’ he said, finally. ‘That’s a mess.’

‘Oh, Quill…’ she said, her voice thick. Steam rose from her shuffling feet, and ice cracked on the hem of her feathered cape. He couldn’t look her in the eye.

They’d come so far in the last 24 hours, and he’d seen her pushed to the brink of exhaustion, far beyond the point where good agents gave up. And he’d been the one to keep her going. He’d been the one to keep them all going. The way out was behind him, they’d made it – he’d made it – and in a moment he’d step through, and then what?

Then what?

‘Typical,’ he spat. ‘And I was feeling so chipper.’

‘Listen,’ Lucy said. ‘Maybe you’d better stay here.’

He looked up sharply. ‘What, on my own? See you all go through without me? Leave me standing here like a pillock in the dark?’ Maybe she was comfortable in the quiet darkness, but Quill couldn’t think of a worse place to die. ‘I don’t think so.’

She had the audacity to look surprised. ‘But, Quill, that wound…On the other side…’

Her voice trailed off, and he took a deep breath, feeling his lungs expand along with his traitorous sides. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘Maybe.’ Probably. ‘But if it happens, it’s got to be done right, in the proper place.’

Somewhere with light, somewhere with people. The thought of dying alone – or living alone forever in this silent half-world, where the walls were all just out-of-true and everything glittered with frost – made fear claw at him, its icy grip digging into the skin of his throat despite the cape.

No. He would not die here.

‘Anyway…’ He grimaced as Lucy gazed at him, her eyes wet. ‘I’m not staying here. Especially in this stupid outfit.’ She didn’t smile. ‘Now – we need to go through.’

Lucy didn’t move. She stood there, her tall figure both so at home and so out of place in that cold, grey room, and suddenly she looked so young. He wanted to tell her it would be all right, but part of him wanted her to tell him it would be all right – and they both knew the words would be empty. There wasn’t much to say, anyway; sometimes, things happened, and now, finally, it was Quill’s turn.

Summoning all his strength, he’d just moved to turn when she spoke again. ‘Quill…You were brilliant just now.’

He paused. ‘Yeah.’

She swallowed, considering her words, and oh God, he couldn’t do this. If Quill was about to face his death he was going to face it with his head held high and his eyes dry, and that meant nipping this in the bud before she got going.

‘Without you—’

‘You and Tony and the others would never have made it, would you?’ He grinned. ‘Glad I made a contribution.’

‘Oh, God,’ she said and really, that said it all, didn’t it?

He held out his hand. ‘It’s OK. Take my hand, Lucy, and let’s go.’

She closed her eyes briefly, breathing deeply through her nose. Then she met his gaze and took his hand.

Together they walked over the narrow little bridge back towards life. The irony of the dead creating a path back to life was not lost on him, nor was the irony that this path back to the living world would lead to his own death. It was poetic, even, one might say.

The ghosts around them swirled and screamed, the noise drowning out the sound of their footsteps on the iron bridge. The air was freezing cold, but Lucy’s hand was warm in his, her presence a quiet comfort.

Quill had held Ned’s hand as he died. A cry of dismay had been all the warning Quill had had before Ned fell to the floor, writhing and gasping as his skin turned blue. Kate and Bobby had held the Spectre at bay and Quill, in his dull blindness, had only been able to hold Ned’s hand.

He’d emptied three vials of adrenaline into Ned’s thigh, of course, but the Spectre had been malicious and hungry and Quill had long ago learnt that if a ghost truly wanted you dead, even the faintest touch was as good as a bullet to the heart. The adrenaline had been as useless at saving him as Quill had been at keeping him safe, but he liked to think he’d at least managed to provide some comfort, in those final moments.

They were passing through the centre now. Bright neon lights suddenly shone ahead and pain bloomed from the wound in his side, making his head spin. He gripped Lucy’s hand tightly and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. She gripped his hand back.

Lucy – God, Lucy. He’d never felt so grateful for Lucy. She was meant to come last, he had been meant to protect her from whatever could be waiting for them on the other side. He’d managed to protect her from Gale, at least. Lockwood would surely forgive him for being more burden than shield now.

His steps were heavy, each one feeling more and more impossible as they slowly emerged from the vortex. The lights on this side were bright and his senses all rushed back at once, overwhelming in their enormity; but Quill was already disorientated, his vision blurry, his breaths coming in small gasps as his whole body seemed to burst into flame. His head was held high, he was sure, and he tried to grip Lucy’s hand tighter as he went to take that final step. Then it all went black.

⚔︎

Of course, it hadn’t stayed black. Quill had woken back up to the sounds of Lucy – sweet, hard as nails, fiercely loving Lucy – gearing up to deliver his eulogy. At least she had sounded suitably tearful. He’d put a stop to that right quick, though, because there are some things one just doesn’t need to hear.

His memory of the night was surprisingly clear, and he had a good recall of everything that had happened right up until the paramedics shot him up with the good stuff while loading him into an ambulance. His agents had bundled him onto a trolley and taken the lift, like a group of grisly couriers. They’d been wheeling him towards the front doors when Sir Rupert had appeared with an army of thugs, and from then on it was a discombobulating haze of screaming, pain, smoke, and crashing as they careened around the Hall and (eventually) out onto the Strand. Quill had been given today’s paper earlier, and apparently the Hall and most of the building had been completely destroyed with over fifty dead. Quite impressive for a day’s work, really.

(He’d been trying not to think about which of the dead he might know. Most of his Fittes contacts had cut him off, anyway.)

None of that, however, was what had been on repeat in his head all day as he lay in his hospital bed at St. Mary’s. Instead his thoughts kept pinging back to those moments when he first woke up on that hard, tiled floor, to the sound of Lucy’s tearful voice. George’s hand had been in his, his grip tight and warm and unyielding. Holly had been covered in his blood, a testament to how hard she’d worked to save him. And Lockwood’s coat – the coat that had formed a huge part of his new identity – had been in tatters, wrapped around him in a makeshift bandage, and then used to keep him warm (and hide the contraband that George had insisted upon. Quill had taught him well). Maybe it was stupid – and, frankly, embarrassingly sentimental – but Quill had never felt more loved.

A little over fifteen hours later, and Quill was wondering if he’d imagined it. Afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window, the sky outside was a deep, brilliant blue, but Quill felt a very different kind of blue indeed. Where the fuck were they? He’d been awake for four hours; nobody had called, nobody had visited, nobody had checked in. It’s like they’d all forgotten about him.

The unfairness of it rankled. He was only in the bloody hospital because he’d gone to protect those idiots in the first place. And after everything he did to get them through Dark London, you’d think he would at least have been worth a phone call.

What he tried to avoid thinking about was: perhaps they hadn’t called because they couldn’t. He’d given the nurses the number for Portland Row, but it had been disconnected. They’d left two messages for Barnes, but declined to leave a third, instead telling him to ‘Calm down and get some rest’ – a task that felt impossible when the last thing he remembered, as the drugs hit and the doors shut, was the sound of Lockwood losing his mind over Lucy being missing.

Quill had no doubt he’d have left to find her. Holly would have stayed with George, surely, but Lockwood would have gone to get her. Did he ever find her? If he’d had to go back inside, did they make it back out? Quill had no idea.

The paper spread over his lap was crumpled from the way he’d obsessively combed through every word, looking for clues, hoping they weren’t among the unnamed dead. But there’d been no mention of any of them.

The front page was filled with an image of black soot and towering flames against a pre-dawn sky, all angry reds and dirty blacks against the soft indigo emblazoned with the words FITTES FALLS. It was horribly reminiscent of the first time he’d seen Lockwood in the paper – this Lockwood, the besuited young man who wielded smiles as weapons and not the dirt-covered, filthy-mouthed urchin he had been before. That time Lockwood and his merry band had burnt down a house and this time it had been a 14-storey corporate building, so at least he’d moved up in the world. Last time, though, Quill had read the article and felt smug; this time, Quill read the article and felt fear. Had they made it out alive?

Well, Marissa was dead, at least. The papers had been clear on that. All Quill could do, he thought grimly, was hang on to the hope that no news was good news. And, in the meantime, ask for something to help him sleep.

⚔︎

The next time Quill woke up it was dark, the room lit only by the electronic glow of the machinery. His mind was hazy and he struggled towards consciousness slowly, his eyelids fighting to stay closed and pull him back under, the drugs they’d given him still promising a sleep that felt oh-so-tempting. But something had woken him up, some odd, out-of-place feeling, and Quill had been an agent far too long to ignore somethings.

So he fought – fought the residual drugs in his system, fought the lingering cold from the Other Side, fought through the exhaustion and pain and opened his eyes to find the ghost of Anthony Lockwood standing at his bedside.

The apparition was pale in the dim light, the body gaunt. It wore an ill-fitting t-shirt, tracksuit bottoms and a hoodie, all of which were crumpled in a way that felt offensively poetic on his Wraith. Its face was swollen, scabbed and bruised, and, though it stood very close, its weary gaze was fixed somewhere to the side. It wasn’t moving.

This is it, thought Quill. Here’s my answer. Here’s the end.

And then, a breath later: Hang on, I lost my goggles last night.

‘Motherfucker—’ lashing out blindly, Quill flailed and sent the paper flying. ‘Lockwood! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!’

Pain lanced through him at the sudden movement and he doubled over, annoyed. He’d meant to sound fierce. Furious. But the words had come out on a muddled croak and now Lockwood was all care and concern, parking himself on the bed as he fussed over him, and Quill wanted to fucking murder him.

‘Here, should I—’

‘Where the hell have you been?!’ he gasped out, doing his best to push him away even as Lockwood reached behind him to fluff his pillows. ‘It’s three in the morning!’

‘Look, lie back first, okay Quill? You’re—’

‘I’m not a bloody invalid!’ Quill snapped hoarsely, even as he leaned back on the pillows which were, much to his chagrin, now much more comfortable.

Lockwood, to his credit, didn’t answer; instead, he offered a cup of water that Quill angrily accepted.

‘You—’ he began, then stopped to take a sip.‘You – ugh. You’re alive, then.’

Lockwood’s expression was half-hidden in the dark. ‘Don’t sound too happy about it.’

‘And the others?’ He thought he already knew the answer from Lockwood’s demeanour alone – God, he hoped he already knew the answer – but he needed to hear it.

‘All okay,’ Lockwood said, and those two words sent the relief crashing over Quill like a torrent of water, sloughing off the vestiges of his terrified anxiety and leaving him shiny and vulnerable and new. He wasn’t one for waterworks but fuck was he ever glad for the darkness of the room.

Tilting his head back, Quill closed his eyes and breathed – in through his nose, out through his mouth, just like he’d taught hundreds of trainees to do. In, out, it brings you back around. In, out.

When he spoke a few moments later, his voice was pleasingly steady. ‘You found her, then? Lucy?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I found her. She’s right next door, actually.’ Now it was Lockwood’s turn to exhale deeply, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion.

‘Next…?’ Quill blinked. ‘Wait, what do you mean she’s right next door? Lucy’s in the hospital?!’

‘Yeah,’ Lockwood answered, shifting to retrieve the newspaper from the floor, the crunch of the thin paper loud in the hushed night. ‘She collapsed this afternoon, just as we were trying to clear out a place to sleep back home.’ Paper crunched and tore as he spoke, worrying it in his hands. ‘Turns out she was bleeding internally. Stab wound in her side, from the fight in the penthouse.’

So there had been a confrontation, then. He didn’t want to hear the details now, though, not at three a.m. when he’d just woken up, and certainly not when Lockwood was mangling the newspaper like a Phantasm wearing a bow tie. He couldn’t deal with whatever was causing that. He needed to keep this light.

‘I didn’t get myself stabbed just so that Lucy could copy me, you know,’ Quill said at length, aiming for haughty.

Lockwood snorted, but the tearing sounds stopped. ‘You’ll have to tell her off for imitating your style when she wakes up, then.’

‘She’s all right, though?’

‘Mostly,’ Lockwood said, shrugging again. ‘She needed surgery but it was straightforward, and she was awake for a little bit before falling asleep again. She’s resting now.’

‘And the others…?’

‘Got sent home while she was still under. George is at Holly’s for the night; I called earlier, and they said they’d tried to visit you but you were asleep. I’m sorry, I meant to pop in, but I fell asleep when Lucy did so I didn’t get round to checking on you until I woke up five minutes ago.’ His voice was tired, but Quill could hear the smirk as he said: ‘Luckily I managed to persuade the nurses into letting me stay, because I’m quite sure visiting hours are over for the day.’

Quill wisely held his tongue. Outright refused to leave and generally made himself a pain in the neck was more likely than any other type of persuasion, if his behaviour when George had been admitted was any indicator.

‘So that’s it? Lucy and I are in hospital, the rest of you are okay?’

‘Yeah. I’ve got a couple of fractured ribs, but George and Holly escaped with mostly cuts and bruises.’

Had he been feeling stronger, Quill would have danced a fucking jig, reputation be damned. ‘So five out of five agents are alive, and all we’ve lost is some furniture, my goggles, and your coat?’

‘Yep,’ Lockwood said happily, popping the ‘p’ and turning to grin at him.

Sometimes I want sunglasses just to look at him, Lucy had once said. Quill had teased her mercilessly for it, of course, but in that moment, as Lockwood beamed at him in that half-lit room, he got it. Sometimes he exuded this energy that just dragged you out into the sunniest afternoon, even if it was despite your best intentions. George had called it The Lockwood Effect.

Quill couldn’t help grinning back. Thank God the nurses weren’t due; they must have made a right pair, grinning at each other in the dark on a hospital bed like lunatics, but they definitely had something to smile about. Five out of five, baby.

‘We really did get out well.’

‘We did,’ Quill agreed. ‘I’m sorry about your coat, though.’

‘Don’t be,’ Lockwood answered firmly. ‘It went to a good cause.’

‘Still. I barely recognised you without it. Thought you were a Wraith at first.’

‘You thought I was… Bloody hell, Quill, do I look that bad?’

‘You look like shit warmed over,’ Quill confirmed. ‘And I can’t even see half of you in this light.’

Lockwood chuckled ruefully, turning his gaze to the window. The clock on the wall read three twenty-five in the morning so it was still a few hours to dawn, but the birds were already starting their song outside. Honestly, between the lateness of the hour and the magnitude of the things that had happened, Quill was almost at a loss for words. I’m glad we’re all alive felt too obvious, and Good job on the arson felt too casual. Instead, he followed Lockwood’s gaze and watched the sky slowly lighten from indigo to a cosmic blue.

To Quill’s (complete lack of) surprise, Lockwood broke the silence mere minutes later. ‘It was my father’s, actually.’

That actually was surprising. ‘What was?’

‘The coat,’ Lockwood clarified. ‘Wait – no. Don’t get the wrong idea; he never wore it or anything. It still had the tag on when I found it.’

‘But it was still your father’s.’

‘It was still my father’s,’ Lockwood agreed. ‘And I like to think I made it mine, too, over the years. But…’ he trailed off with a shrug, then turned to face him properly again, one hand gently gripping his shoulder. ‘You’re here, Quill, and that’s all that matters.’

His sincerity was all-encompassing, filling him with a strange, warm comfort – one that seemed to flow from Lockwood’s hand on his shoulder, from the ghosts of Lucy’s hand in his, of George’s fingers and their tight grip, of Holly’s hands on his chest. All of them, saying the same thing.

You’re here, Quill, and that’s all that matters. The words settled over him like a blanket.

#lockwood and co #quill kipps #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood #my writing

31 notes · View notes

maliceofminds · 1 year ago

Text

Lesbian wolfstar - the expanded version

The list is based on the original rec list by @strwbi-laces (which you can find here) but let’s just get into it:

what’s mine is yours, decaying in your arms and her body is a temple down in the frozen food aisle , a shot of succubus , feast and a dash of fae by @achilleslikespeas (plus these two microfics x x)

don’t panic by redspottywellies

I’ve come home by @strwbi-laces

Cute thing by @padfootsoftly

All of @plecotusauritus microfics: gymnast lesbians x x x x x x x x x x and pretty things

All of @pinklume microfics: x x x x x x

pomegranates (chapter six of ocho kandelikas) by @spindrifters

just a restless feeling by my side by unwholesome_gay

It was all by design by @melodramvs

tough, tried and true blue by @worldenough-and-time

boredom by moonymajor

development

Sweet talk

You & I (together and apart) by chillsoya

if I could walk away from me by Barry_Manilows_Wardrobe

thirsty by WolfyWordWeaver

Lesbian Wolfstar pretty woman au by @spookymoonie

The whole lesbian wolfstar series by @aspiring-artist-em which includes Make me sweetheart, you’re safe love, Baby you’re okay, Too much Moony , please, I’m begging you, Mother, Remus Lupin and her little bitch, fourteen, you don’t love me you don’t care

Angel of small death and the beautiful lady (without mercy) by @strezzlecki

Fire on Fire by @atlasdoe

religions in your lips (the altar is my hips) by ourmidnights

Baby, you don’t have to rush by iloveuregulus

Song for no one by ninabnormal (@thebunnymen)

Comfort and Promises by TwistedShadows

Chasing after you is like a fairytale series by ManyCats which includes Don’t you wonder when the light begins to fade? , And I got back up (those days are over) and the things we lost in the fire

This microfic by @canyouhearmyfear bruises and water

Midnight girls and it’s companion piece Soul Somethings

Dress by criersw1fey

Summer refreshments and Last Chance by @wxlfstxrisbest

Miss sugar pink and She’s a rainbow by @samdaydreams

With your hair down and soft like summer rain by @lunarlivs

hand me my heart in the palm of your hand while it’s still beating , keep my heart in the freezer so it doesn’t go bad with my love , fate is giving us a hard time but maybe romance isn’t dead and God Blessed/Hell bound by @maliceofminds

Hang me up to dry by EuripidesTrousers(I_DDare_You)

She with the eyes my heart does blind and some part of me came alive the first time you called me baby , not looking for absolution, forgiveness for the things i do, only live to admire your beauty, i want to hold you close (soft breath, beating heart) by @mothlau

Ribs are designed to be crawled into and Always pushing her luck by @sommerregenjuniluft

this is my body by @kaleidoscopexsighs

the first time you called me baby by @a-round-of-robyns

Love and Universal Truths, There‘s Something Wretched About This and Real Love, Baby by @werewolfenthusiast

If I forgot to tag someone just message me and I’ll edit it, I just couldn’t find everyone’s tumblr tbh:). Also everyone feel free to add to this I’m sure I’m forgetting something<3

#i do love making a good list #and this was very neat #also thank you to everyone for feeding the agenda #lesbian wolfstar #recs #saved

293 notes · View notes

sundrop-writes · 9 months ago

Text

Sundrop's Stranger Things Masterlist

Please note - I am just posting this masterlist to get it out of my drafts - I worked on it when I was working on the fic listed below, and then I completely randomly lost interest in it, and this has been sitting in my drafts for months ever since. And I love the formatting and style of this masterlist and I don't want to accidentally lose it by accidentally deleting the draft - and I am gonna need this masterlist at some point. So I'm posting it.

Coming "Soon":

Nasty - Sub!Eddie Munson x Dom!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut. You hesitate to tell Eddie your true sexual desires, fearing that he'll be turned off. But when he finds out - he is more turned on than ever. (3,000 words.)

Note: The rest of these link off to AO3 (which is the bulk of them unfortunately) - but at some point, I hope to have them edited and posted to Tumblr.

Sugar, We're Goin' Down - Steve Harrington x Fem!Thick!Reader x Eddie Munson. Friends to Lovers. Smut. Eddie hasn't gotten laid in months, so when he walks in on you and Steve (and neither of you seem to notice), he has just enough sexual frustration built up that he can’t bring himself to look away. He discovers quite a few things about Steve, and you. And himself. (12,700 words.)

Eat Me Up Alive - Sub!Eddie Munson x Dom!Fem!Thick!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut. Eddie is a very annoying person. And when he goes too far, you push back. Turns out - he likes it. Loves it, actually. (11,200 words.)

I'm Still Standing - Nancy Wheeler x Fem Disabled/Chronically Ill Reader. Friends to Lovers. Angst, Smut, (very slight Fluff). Hurt and Comfort. You start having horrible waking nightmares, but you don't want to worry your best friend Nancy by telling her. She's already occupied trying to chase down a trans-dimensional killer wizard, and you are convinced that the two aren't possibly related. (37,800 words.)

Bless This Mess - ADHD!Eddie Munson x Fem!Thick!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut and Fluff. Eddie accidentally forgets the two of you have a date planned. Rather than getting mad at him, you let him make it up to you. (5,700 words.)

Always Yours - Steve Harrington x Fem!Pregnant!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Fluff and Smut. Steve tells you about his 'six lil nuggets' dream, and you let him know that he's actually a lot closer to it than he thought. (2,500 words.)

Obey Your Master - Eddie Munson x Fem!Autistic!Thick!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut (and some Fluff). You are taking care of Eddie while his wounds from the Upside Down are healing. And when you offer to help 'take care' of him in other ways, he's convinced that he survived to live just for this exact moment. (11,200 words.)

Fix You - Eddie Munson x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Fix-It Fic. Hurt and Comfort. Most of your life, all you knew was darkness. Eddie was the one light in all of it. And you refused to lose him. (5,300 words.)

Drowning In You - Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader. Enemies to Lovers. Smut (slight Emotional Angst). Working with Billy at Hawkins Pool forced you to be around him. But forgetting part of your mandatory uniform at home and being harassed by random men because of it forced you to truly confront your feelings for him. (22,100 words.)

You Shook Me All Night Long - Steve Harrington x Fem!Thick!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Smut and Fluff. Steve never really saw you. Until one day, when you stood out as the hottest babe he had ever seen. And on that day, he just happened to be wearing the dorkiest outfit ever and stuttering over himself to impress you. Somehow, it worked. (45,000 words.)

Daisy Fields (Companion to You Shook Me All Night Long) - Steve Harrington x Fem!Thick!Reader. Established Relationship, Family Fluff. Some Smut, Fluff. You and Steve happily pursue your life together, more than thankful for the silly little ice cream shop that brought the two of you together. (20,600 words.)

(This last one, I don't really like. I wrote it a long time ago, and it doesn't really go with my current style. But perhaps somebody seeing this masterlist can get some reading enjoyment out of it. It's just very unlikely to be re-posted on Tumblr.)

Monstrous - Steve Harrington x Fem!Powered!Reader. Established Relationship. Angst and Fluff. Steve finds out your big secret, and you are surprised when he doesn't hate you for it. (5,200 words.)

#sundrop writes #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader

104 notes · View notes

anika-ann · 1 year ago

Text

Pomiluj me (Love Me Tender) - S.R.

Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; standalone (NOT a part of this medieval AU)

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 10k 😁 best possible division if needed is at the first divider

Summary: Knight Steven Rogers and his brothers in arms are returning home after having tackled an unruly creature terrorizing the people of Starkerbürg. Upon encountering an injured woman, Steven offers to bring her – carry her, truly – back to her home. How could he deserve a knighthood if he left a woman in distress to her fate, after all?

But not everything it as it seems. And love blooms in the most unlikely of places.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, unprotected sex (shocking in medieval times huh), bit of angst, tons of fluff, himbo knights in BBC Merlin style (long live the legends), knight Steve ‘cause he’s a warning, Slovak language ‘cause I can

A/N: Title from the song which inspired the story, Pomiluj mě (Love on Me/Love Me Tender)...tumblr cannot handle an “ě “in their title 🙃 Lyrics, translation and link here, you’ll find a few lines in the fic as well - truly recommend. DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics

A/N/2: AO3 says this is my 100th work (as posted here anyway) and I’m brushing 1,680k of words written according to the counter. Which… whoa. And it’s almost six years since I first posted a marvel fic 🥺 Enjoy!

Alone, you only wander in the dark Chased by the cold I shall light up the torch you’re guarding

Should I be worried about you That all you do is take When are you coming back to me?

The cavalry moved rather slowly.

The noble men appeared a far cry from the polished image known from books, even as they had attempted to wash in a river. They reeked of battle, smoke and blood still; and the drying blood in their wounds was just as red as that of ordinary men, the scent of sweat and fear having seeped into their clothes and armour. And yet, their vests carried the sigil of Starkerbürg with pride, signaling the knights’ dedication to the protection of their kingdom.

With only horse left, they truly might make a pitiful sight, certain weariness to their step; but an air of victory and camaraderie made for a picture of life instead. Laughter sounded between the group, a joke thrown around here and there, a tease about a wound each of them suffered, particularly the youngest one. Despite those, true concern for their new friend, Sir Parker, could be read in their eyes. He was the youngest to ever been dubbed in the history of Starkerbürg; it was no wonder the good men assigned him the role he would have played had the bond they shared been one of a blood family. The youngest of brothers was as much made fun of as protected, since he was eager to prove he deserved the honour to ride with the knights of Starkerbürg just like any other. Now he sat on the horse in front of Sir Barton, the eldest, as they made their way back after successfully ridding the kingdom of a horrific creature: the chimera had been believed to only exist in old tales until it brought terrible and painfully real suffering to the people of the west of the kingdom and so the king’s loyal servants were tasked to ride at dawn five days ago.

“Alright, alright, let us leave the poor lad,” Sir Barton said, patting the young Sir Parker on his shoulder a little too hard. “He shall do better next time.”

Peter smiled over his shoulder gratefully, having started to feel not humbled, but humiliated.

“Yes, yes, we should let him be,” Sir Maximoff agreed, side-eyeing the two riders mischievously. “We should talk about how you moved like an old lady.”

The collective ooooooh and chuckles might have as well come from a group of children, rather than grown men, causing Sir Barton to glare at the cheeky lad he called a friend.

“Old ladies are wise and worth of respect, Maximoff. You could learn a thing or two from them, as you had learned from me,” he scoffed, feigning offence. “Do not forget who taught you how to swing a sword, kiddo.”

“There is a point in what Clint is saying,” Sir Wilson hummed good-naturedly, raising his eyebrow at Pietro in challenge.

“Maybe. Does not change the fact he’s grown seven years older since then, while I have grown seven years more mature.”

The explosion of laughter following his statement was louder this time.

“In your dreams, maybe,” Sir Barnes snorted, elbowing his best of friends, Sir Rogers. “About as mature as this one was when he used to pick his battles with guys twice his size, eh?”

Sir Rogers, Steven to most, only smirked, speaking up for the first time in a while, since his thoughts were far far away. “Should we get technical, we all took up on an enemy twice our size only yesterday morning.”

“Oh?” Sir Barton feigned surprise. “Listen to the guy. He might tell you what brought the monster to its knees next – an arrow straight to its eye. Remind me, Maximoff, whose crossbow it was that fired it?” he asked pointedly, grinning down at the man walking by their horse, earning an eyeroll.

“Did it even have knees?” Sir Lang questioned, “All I know is that it was a nasty, nasty thing.”

“Nastier than Hydra? Cut off one had, two shall takes its place? I truly believed that was only a legend…” Sir Wilson said, a visible shiver of disgust shaking him.

“Not sure we can compare the two… maybe Barnes or Rogers could, huh?” Sir Maximoff suggested.

Steven’s face darkened; he did indeed remember the hydra creature very well for it nearly cost his best friend his arm. The scars still littered Bucky’s skin, from the back of his hand all the way up to his shoulder; Gods had blessed him enough that his ability to use his arm remained intact, even as its appearance did not.

As for the strange chimera they had slayed yesterday… it was true that Steven had gotten more familiar with it then he would have liked. He could recall it with uncomfortable clarity: its foul breath smelling of death on his face, feeling as if it had seeped deep into his very bones when he had finally thrusted his sword through its heart. He could still hear the clang of teeth near his neck, a near death sentence.

No, he would rather not compare the two. He would rather not think of either of the creatures at all.

“Why us, Maximoff? Because I nearly lost my arm to the former and my best friend to latter? No thanks,” Sir Barnes hissed, face turning ashen as well.

Steven instinctively reached for his friend, squeezing his arm, casting a concerned glance as he was torn away from his own dark memories.

“Buck…”

“Are you jesting? Sir Rogers was incredible,” Sir Parker cried out excitedly, having four of the knights groan, for Steven’s bravery – or idiocy, should anyone ask Sir Barnes, truly – was all the youngest knight had been talking about for the majority of their journey, causing Steven’s cheeks redden under his beard, sense of pride and satisfaction battling the terror of the memory. As for the remaining knights, well; while they did not diminish Steven’s important contribution of delivering the fatal blow, they had grown annoyed at the constant babble.

“Sure he was, kiddo.”

“Oh yes. They should probably knight him. Oh wait-“ Sir Wilson said, causing the men to laugh.

“Yeah, a set of deadly teeth perhaps three inches from his throat? Let him have all the glory and Princess Morgana’s hand too,” Sir Barnes grumbled, sending his friend both a proud and irked glance.

A sudden rustle of leaves and a woman’s yelp followed by a thud caused them all fall silent and turnbattle-ready in a split second, snapping in the direction of noise.

However, there was little need for caution. Their intruder barely appeared dangerous: the peasant woman observed them with wide eyes and forehead scrunched in pain, blossoms of common elder, spilled all around her like precious silks of a gown instead of the worn fabric of the simple shirt, shawl and ankle-length skirt, speaking thousand words of what she had been doing until she had fallen. Her fingers were clutching at her left foot, a clear sign of her ungraceful landing. The tree was by no means tall, but that should not mean the fall was what they could call comfortable.

For a moment, the group of knights stood frozen, rendered speechless as much as the poor woman who found herself face to face with not one but seven of the crown’s most loyal servants.

Steven, perhaps the kindest of them all, was the first to snap from the shock of an unexpected disturbance of their journey, releasing the grip on his sword, never having drawn it from its sheath. He took several long strides to the young woman, instantly capturing her attention.

“My lady, are you quite alright?” Steven inquired, gently as he realized his large frame, accentuated by his armour, might intimidate the poor sweetling.

And yet. Just as the question left his lips and his gaze met hers, he was the one rendered mute all of sudden.

Steven had never seen anyone more clearly, he was certain; and just as sure he was of the fact that no woman could ever hope to encompass sincerity and beauty in her eyes only as the one he was facing at the moment.

Her smile was but a shy little thing, pain masked by gratitude for the knight’s care. He was a handsome one, of robust built but with delicate lines to his face, bright blue irises with a speckle of green, plush lips framed by a short beard; distantly, she imagined his wide shoulders would barely fit the doorframe of her cabin – of her hut, truly. She found the imagery enticing, almost as much as the gentle tone he had spoken with despite his giant frame.

“’Quite aright’ seems accurate, sir. I am not hurting much beyond my left ankle,” she admitted, even as her source of discomfort was evident from her hand still covering the affected area.

Steven’s brows furrowed slightly in worry, yet he made no move, spoke no words, even as his lips parted. Instead, his eyes roamed the woman’s face, searching and fascinated. It was the silence which prompted his comrades to enter the interaction.

“Do you think you can walk?” Sir Wilson asked as he stepped forward – a movement barely acknowledged as the woman did not shift her gaze from Steven still.

“Wobble, perhaps,” she said, the corners of her lips briefly turning downwards. “Could perhaps one of you assist me? I should be most grateful for your chivalry.”

Sir Barnes could scoff at the absurdity of her wording; even as she suggested she would welcome anyone’s aid, her fixation on Steven was ridiculously evident. It almost scared him, how steadily she watched him; even as ladies’ interest in his best friend’s company had increased significantly along with how Steven’s muscles had grown, the way this woman observed him… unsettling him for some reason.

“Oh! We should borrow you the horse for a while-“ Sir Parker – bless him, the youngest and the purest of heart of them all – cried out, soon silenced by a more sombre voice of reason of Sir Barnes.

“Kid, you lose your leg should you put your weight on it now. Believe me, I have almost lost my arm to the same foolishness.”

“…oh.”

“Well, I suppose one of us should support you and walk you to your home,” Sir Barton suggested nonchalantly, preparing to dismount the horse. “The most experienced one of us, perhaps?”

“Truly? Is that so, Clinton?” Sir Wilson questioned as he eyed him, his tone carrying wryness of a man who would not care for nonsense – unless it was one that could earn him a great deal of fun. “Why you?”

“I have a pair of very well-working eyes for one,” the older man uttered, causing sir Maximoff to snicker silently.

“So do I and yet I would never offer!” Sir Lang opposed as soon as he understood the meanings behind Sir Barton’s words. “Must we remind you how inappropriate that would be, since you have a lovely wife and three kids at home?”

“And a knee that knows a rain is coming at least two sunsets ahead?” Sir Barnes added for honestly, the foolishness of Sir Barton’s idea battled the one of the youngling’s.

“Ugh, alright then. Spoilsports.”

Sir Maximoff, unsurprisingly, grinned and shrugged as he stepped forward. “Ah, well, fellas, it seems-“

“I can do it. I can even carry her.”

Sir Barnes sighed, an involuntary reaction to best of comrades choosing this moment to snap from his reverie. Speaking of foolishness.

Not once had Steven’s gaze left the beautiful woman since the very moment he had laid his eyes on her, almost as if he was drawn by ancient power whose pull not even his virtuous heart could resist. The pull had been literal too; while the movements had been subtle, step by step Steven inched closer to the woman, now standing barely three feet from her, way too close even as he had been the first to spring forward.

Sir Barnes would be amazed and certainly more than amused at his friend’s antics, had it not been for the fact the scene was as fascinating as disconcerting. For a myriad of reasons. Beginning with-

“You are injured as well,” Sir Wilson noted pointedly.

Sir Wilson appeared to be the only of the men aside from Sir Barnes who had not lost all reason in the midst of all of them having acquired an expression of awe and smugness. In all fairness, the reaction of the knights was nothing short of understandable, for Steven, Sir Rogers, who had kept from many women who had been rather literally battling for his attention, seemed enamoured all of sudden. And of all creatures, enamoured by a beautiful, yet the most ordinary of women. He appeared if not utterly lost to the fabled love at first sight, then certainly lost enough to abandon all reason.

“Oh no, if you are severely injured, I could not possibly-“ the woman resisted, gathering her skirt in attempt to stand up as if to prove she was considerably less inconvenienced by absence of aid than it had originally appeared.

Naturally, her efforts were doomed to failure – and just as naturally, Steve had been there to catch her, promptly supporting her weight. She had barely caught herself, one palm flat against his chest, the other on his bicep, lips parted in silent surprise; and much to the amusement of all knights, in awe of his strength.

Sir Rogers was certainly not the only one of the pair who appeared smitten.

“Thank you, good Sir.”

“Sir Steven Rogers, my lady. I should be happy to aid you,” he pronounced, the words ‘with anything’ unsaid but clearly implied as he helped her straighten up as much as her own injury allowed. “I have not been injured severely. Worry not.”

Needless to say, Sir Barnes would argue; bruised ribs, several cuts, more so when one of them sat right above his brow, should be considered severe enough not to carry a woman in his arms… particularly when these injuries were coupled with a heavy blow to the head. Before, Sir Barnes had not been sure how strong of a hit Steven had taken, but now, seeing how absent of any common sense Steven was-

Ah. His best friend was being quite himself, now that Sir Barnes thought of it.

“…so we are to ignore there are at least three better candidates whose ribs are not bruised or-“ Peter muttered in low voice to his companions, all but earning a warning slap to his healthy leg as Sir Lang gently shushed him, himself charmed by the romantic ballad-worthy scene in front of them.

“Seeing as she does, I suppose we do too,” Sir Maximoff scoffed lowly, tilting his head to side as he observed his comrade, suddenly frowning, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And so does he. Is he alright? He looks… strange. Has any of you put something in his water?”

“You are saying this as if you were not as miffed about him being chosen by her as I am,” Sir Barton huffed, sourness turning into humour at the other man’s misery.

Pietro’s gaze torn away from the pair, their downright love-sick gazes suddenly difficult to watch; it almost felt as if by looking at them, they were prying on an intimate moment. Pietro thought it curious, for he had never had any issues of laughing loud at the displays of affection his fellow knights had offered in the Tower tavern for everyone to see, but he did not want to examine it too hard. He could find joy elsewhere once they had made it to the city, with no shortage of ladies no doubt willing to offer comfort to the heroes of Starkerbürg.

“He is one lucky bastard,” he sighed, patting the horse’s neck, preparing to take off.

“And lucky he might get…” Sir Wilson sing-sang quietly, causing the group to laugh as their gazes once again appreciated the almost palpable spark between the unlikely couple, exchanging knowing glances as the woman gasped when Steven sneaked his arms under her knees and back, lifting her into his arms with ease despite his gear weighting him down.

“Alright, it is settled. We are certain you are safe with Sir Rogers…” Sir Barton called out, entirely ignored by the pair who instead kept observing one another without as much as a blink, as if they could not bear losing even a fraction of the precious time they were given. “For he is-- they are not even listening to me, are they? No one cares about me anymore, I truly must be getting old-”

Sir Barnes sighed again, realization dawning to him; one he should never share with his companions, but one he would for certain inquire about later when Steven returned to the castle.

“We shall move then,” he muttered, beckoning others towards the road, not before sparing the couple a last slightly disapproving glance.

He feared not for his most precious friend’s safety; he only feared for his heart, too big even for the impressive size his body had grown into since his early days as a weakling. At the moment, it was his mind Bucky feared for, since it almost seemed feeble under a spell of a beautiful woman. A spell no one dared to break.

As the group walked away, each of their steps was uncharacteristically silent; until they believed to reach enough of a distance to have a boisterous laugh about Sir Rogers no doubt to be rewarded for his chivalry. The sound bothered not the pair as they smiled at each other softly, the woman’s thumb brushing over Steven’s sternum, covered by worn chainmail.

The simple touch seemed to reach his soul; his breathing, having already eased since he had first caught her, cleared completely, the ache in his bones gone. The woman’s smile widened, silently prompting Steven to start walking. He was not one to hesitate, his feet moving almost of their own volition.

“You are not obliged to carry me,” she said, a teasing note lacing her gentle voice. “I slowed the landing enough. It is nothing but a bruise.”

Steven shook his head, appearing as if he was barely holding back a grin. “But I must, my lady. It is my duty as a knight of Starkerbürg.”

She pursed her lips, one corner lifting in a smirk.

“Oh? Is it so, my good sir? Hm... speaking of knights of Starkerbürg, Sir Rogers,” she emphasized, a playful spark appearing in her eye, “your friends act like children.”

Undignified for a knight for certain – yet who was he to diminish the already scraped reputation of men who truly unsubtly jested about him taking advantage of the very woman in distress he was to help – Steven snorted.

“Don’t I know it.”

“But Samuel might not be wrong…“ she said, voice equally full of amusement and promise. “Set me down, Steven. You must be tired.”

Tired he was not. Not ever since he had met the woman’s eyes moments ago and recognized their beauty and depth as familiar. But who was he to deny a lady?

And a lady she was, for all she was and was not. They might have jested about it together, but in Steven’s mind, she was precisely that and nothing less, no matter what any half-wit of this kingdom would think. Slowly, he lowered her back to her feet, his heart thundering in his ribcage in anticipation as he focused on the sounds surrounding them.

Content with only gentle whisper of the wind and songs of robins for a company, his worn hands cradled the woman’s cheeks, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones, heart trembling when she leaned into his touch, her lips brushing his palm.

In return, the tips of her fingers ghosted over his brow, the nasty cut closing at once, without a single sting of pain. She focused on that aspect often, even as she knew he would try and not as much as flinch for her benefit, much like he had not when she healed his ribs earlier.

“Thank you. They must be far enough now, I am sure,” he whispered, stepping closer so their bodies aligned and nearly merged in one. “Do not hide from me, bosorka moja. Let me see you, beautiful.”

Her smile turned a little coy, even as her soul sang at his sweet words. Steven was quite a master of compliments; but not a shameless flirt or a rake. What he said always came from heart; that beautiful, beautiful heart he had sworn belonged to her and never made her question it despite their situation.

“As you wish, good sir,” she whispered, fingertips sliding down his cheekbone, repairing the darkening bruising in their wake, before she turned focus on her own transformation. “Close your eyes, love, release me for just a moment.”

With a sigh of disappointment – but eager to oblige – Steven lifted his hands an inch, missing the lovely heat under his touch at once, and let his eyes slide close. Soft light caressed his skin, flickering behind his closed eyelids as her features shifted, her cloaking spell dispersing.

Steven did not fight the smile tugging at his lips as he allowed himself to open his eyes again just as the glow was dying out, welcomed by the sight of his beloved in her true face. The spell she had casted changed her features but a bit, only enough to protect her from those who would still hunt her upon mere suspicion of her being a magical creature. She appeared just as human as before; but should a half-wit still nursing grudges against magic even century and half since its dark side caused people to suffer ever recognize her as anything else… Steven did not wish to imagine what hell would have been raised; even as it would have been one he would fight to death against.

Indeed, she appeared human even in her true form to most, Steven assumed. Yet, to him, she appeared almost ethereal; she always had. From the very moment she had walked into his life and took his world by gentle storm, slowly nursing him back to health day by day from multiple wounds which would have been his doom. She had risked her own life in process, revealing her talents to anyone, let alone a knight of Starkerbürg, but for a good deed, she had barely even hesitated.

Beautiful, powerful, brave and endlessly kind; and now, by the blessing of gods, even as Steven failed to be a proper gentleman, his.

He let his fingers slide into her hair, tilting her face up to feast his eyes on her features, heart humming pleasantly as only a person who owned it could make it hum.

It was clearer than the skies that she felt just the same. Drawing him close, not waiting for his prompting, she rose to her tiptoes and brushed his lips with hers, sweet and healing. No cut was there for her to fix, but it appeared that whenever she kissed him, even with no magic involved as she had claimed, Steven’s often weary soul was lifted.

He followed her lips, earning a hearty chuckle but no protest, a hand on his nape as her fingers curled in his hair as well.

“Bosorka moja,” he said softly against her lips before tasting them again, greedy for every stolen moment, every stolen kiss she was willing to give him.

And she would give him a lifetime, much like he would give his own to her.

But there was not a single reason to do it right where they stood. One more peck to his lips and she escaped his arms sneakily, only to grab at his hand with both of hers, tugging him down the now familiar path.

“Come, rytier moj.”

And so he followed her, without a word of protest. He would follow his heart anywhere.

Their destination was by no means far, they were in no rush. Unbeknownst to Sir Barnes, his thoughts had been precisely on point – the pair of lovers cherished every moment spent together, may it be walking with purpose or wandering.

This day, they chose the former, the hut soon appearing in a barely-there clearing among the trees. Steve’s lips curled in a smile on instinct as despite the humble outside state of the tiny house, he knew what he would find upon entering with his love and lover by his side. A home. Not only hers; theirs. A safe space for their love.

As soon as they entered, the air smelling of herbs and dried meadow flowers, ones he had picked and gifted her the last time he had escaped his knight-bound duties, hit his nostrils and widened his smile. It was met with her own, soft and welcoming, heartbreakingly beautiful; ache echoed in his heart, its emptiness present for the past few days without her suddenly dissolving into nothing.

He brought her hand to his lips, a gentle kiss to her knuckles before releasing her, so they could begin their routine.

From the mountains Wind, dust and defiance is rising I lay your armour to your feet Don’t let my skin get cold at night

Wind from the mountains

Wind, dust and defiance is rising I lay my armour to your feet Don’t let my skin get cold at night

You made your way to the pot, a simple curl of your wrist lighting up a fire to heat the water for tea. Steven’s gaze followed you as he stood by the door, blindly unclasping his belt, putting away his sword and chainmail. He had no need for weapons nor armour in his home; vulnerability in this house was no sign of weakness, but one of strength. It was a privilege he took upon proudly as you were blissfully aware.

Then, you ruminated through your dried herbs in search of chamomile and lavender, even as you knew the exact placement of every single item; once you heard Steven lose his armour and step forward, you looked over your shoulder, offering an unassuming smile – despite assuming quite a lot from the many encounters you had shared before.

“Tea, my love?”

Like clockwork, like the most beautiful habit, you barely got the chance to speak the question before he stood behind you, fingers cradling your chin, angling your head further to meet your lips again, an indulgent smile tasting indulgent smile as neither of you ever believed a tea was to be served. Not yet at least.

Where your first shared kiss after days of being apart tasted of longing, relief and soft smiles, this one tasted of feelings much more primal. Your breath hitched in the briefest surprise at the intensity, yet you responded in earnest, shifting to accommodate his large body, your hands finding purchase of his broad shoulders as soon as you spun around. He rewarded your cooperation with enthusiasm; you yielded to his force with a breathy laugh once he allowed you to retrieve the air he so lovingly stole from your lungs.

“No tea then?”

A hand previously grasping at your hips wrapped around your back to pull you to his chest, three steps leading you to walk backwards until your back brushed the makeshift table, Steven’s lips as urgent as sweet, his beard scratching at your sensitive skin, each breath tickling your lips.

“Would rather drink from your lips, love,” he whispered to your mouth, the only chance for both of you to breathe in before his lips returned. His hold tightened to ground you against his advances, trapping you in a cage of love you could have easily escaped should you wish; yet, you only withdrew for a moment, a cheeky retort on your tongue as your need for him grew with every touch.

“That could be arranged, I believe.”

Glancing up, you were met with his darkened eyes, his hand firm as he held onto your jaw; and yet, his thumb caressed your skin gently, the desire blending into softness and amusement at your bold demeanour. You lifted one corner of your lips in a smirk, gasping when his mouth possessed yours again, teeth tugging at your lower lip, his arm still holding onto your waist – the only thing keeping you from practically laying on the table, his hips pining yours against the hard surface, fingers squeezing your flesh.

Now there was a thought; Steve’s weight rendering you weightless as he’d coax peak after peak from your body laid on the dark wood as an offering to Gods at an altar…

The very thought, however, was fast to dissolve as Steven’s hips rocked into yours, allowing you to feel the outline of his burning need, having you clutch at his shirt as friction teased your throbbing core. He swallowed the needy noise he elicited from your lips, fingers slipping under your shirt, thumb pressing into your skin just above your hipbone as to guide your movements.

You shuddered upon his lips travelling down the column of your throat, teeth grazing skin alongside the hem of your shirt above your collarbone; your hands began their own quest over the hard planes of his body, appreciative of his truly impressive physique. Steven’s fingers roamed as well, caressing and squeezing, your given name but a breathy whisper when his fingertips stroked the underside of your breasts.

You nearly missed his words due to the blissful sensation, but you had heard the silent plea spoken so many times before there was no mistaking it.

“Dance for me, my love?”

Your swollen lips curled in a playful smile as his fingers carded through your hair, kiss brushing your cheek and jaw and finally your mouth again.

“Oh? Is that what you wish for, lover mine?”

His gaze followed the patterns his fingertips whispered over your face as if they were brushes painting the most precious canvas, a curious contradiction to his eager kisses and hardness.

“Would you hold it against me?” he inquired in a hushed voice, stealing yet another kiss from your waiting lips, his nose gently caressing yours before his gaze bore into yours with intensity again, “that I wish to see something so beautiful and so alive after a battle?”

The amusement slipped from your face, features softening as your heart sored at the subtle confession. The knights of Starkerbürg were full of jest and gestures so great they might border on insanity when situation allowed it. Their bravery was a thing of legends, as much of a legend as the thing you knew they had gone to fight days ago and were only now returning, having bested a mythical creature much more vicious and deadly than yourself, crushing life with not more than one bite to a man’s flesh.

Yet, for all their heroism, even knights, even the most precious of them all – even your Steven – felt the disarming fear of death itself, cruel and all too powerful. You would be always be more than willing to remind him of the power of life for a change, until you’d release yours with your last breath.

Ad so the answer was no – no, you would not hold it against him, whatever he would ask. Never him.

Standing on your tiptoes, framing his face with your hands, his whiskers and already messy hair ticking your palms, you told him as much, sealing your deal with a kiss.

Easing his grip, he allowed you to push against chest, easily giving in as you lead him to walk backwards until his calves hit the frame of your bed. He sat down obediently and you leaned into him, stealing another brief peck.

“Please, bosorka moja,” he pleaded once more as your forehead touched his, taking a moment to breathe him in, reminding yourself that both you indeed were still alive; and thus, such victory should be celebrated with joys life itself provided. “Dance for me, my love.”

Smiling, you placed a finger over his lips to shush him at last, gliding several steps back, mischief appearing in your eyes as his own followed your every movement hungrily, more so when you slipped out of your shawl, the shirt far from brushing the waist of the skirt suddenly hanging low on your hips, providing Steve with a silver of skin of your stomach.

There was no music but the howl of the wind carrying the occasional note by chaffinches and dunnocks and rustles of leaves. Yet, an old old melody echoed in your heart, guiding your movements and filling you with power and confidence of all witches that came before you and enchanted men into giving away their kingdom without as much as a fleeting thought, surrendering their strength and their hearts, all that only to be blessed with a single sinful glance, a single touch of magic as old as humanity itself. For a single drop of passion.

You could feel it fill the air, the longing and thirst for life and body, your lover’s eyes turning dark, hypnotized by the simple swirls of your wrists above your head, at your sides, following every slide of the back of your hands over your ribs, over your bare skin, his visceral need to replace your touch with his own. Drinking in but the smallest motions of your hips, breath hitching at the briefest tilt of your head back or to side, his lips tingling to attach themselves to the exposed skin of your throat, to taste, to suck a bruise. The force with which his fists curled into themselves seemed to ignite sparkles in the air, bringing a sensual smile to your lips as you let your eyes slip shut, feeling the energy hum louder when you moved closer; a sweet thunder within you, within Steve, all around you.

The thud of Steve’s knees on the floor came with his hands grasping your hips; needy but not firm, only to feel the slow movements of your hips and allow you to continue swinging freely. You released a breath, head tipping backwards as Steve’s hot lips found the now burning skin of your stomach, nosing his way up an inch at a time, beard tickling, an open-mouthed kiss following and causing you to shudder – with pleasure, with overwhelming power.

“Steven-“

“Keep dancing, bosorka moja,” he hummed into your skin with a pleased smile, teeth grazing over your belly button as if to distract you from his rough but deft fingers slipping under the waist on your skirt, inching it lower and lower until it hit the floor. Cold air brushed over your bare core, Steven’s lips trailing to the junction of your thigh, his smile growing wicked. “I shall help you dance.”

The very first flicker of his tongue over your pearl had you stutter in your movements, a whimper leaving your lips as Steven’s fingers dug deep into your flesh of your sides and thighs, a wordless warning not to cease the dance he had pleaded for. With a shudder of a breath, you willed yourself to continue, naturally rocking onto his hot tongue as it swept over your weeping core with indulgence, stars flashing behind your closed eyelids at the contrast of the slick muscle to the scrapes his beard left behind.

“Steven-“

“Shhh,” your lover whispered, the sound gentle and teasing at once, the pleasant vibration against your sensitive flesh causing your fingers to find way into his hair and grip, only earning another appreciative hum. “Keep dancing, love.”

And so you did. Leaning into the affection so willingly offered, you succumbed to a different kind of dance. Fingers flexing in Steven’s hair upon a particularly smart swirl of his tongue, breathless praise, calls to Gods and desperate pleas for more more more spilling from your lips. Meeting his ministrations without shame; guiding him, opening up for him as the liquid fire of pleasure spread through your veins, turning into an inferno when you found your thigh on his shoulder, completely out of your doing, an instinct to chase relief – but thoroughly appreciated as Steven’s arm circled your bottom, pulling you impossibly close and loving you deep enough to set you on fire entirely.

You let the primal hunger consume you as you climbed to your peak, crying out when you reached it, head spinning from the intensity; waves of bliss washed over you, body pliant and relaxed. You shrieked when you suddenly found yourself losing your footing, for a brief moment frustratingly empty and cold; and then you were spread on the table, your lover’s lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, burning blue gaze swallowed by lust firmly set on your face as two thick fingers entered you, latching onto the last aftershocks of your peak. You reached a second high with dizzying speed, unable to tear your gaze away from your giving – and so, so wicked – lover. Gods could possess you at that moment and you would have not felt as if you ascended to such heights as you had while indulging on Earthly pleasures with him.

A soft trail of kisses and pets soothed you as you came down, a breathless chuckle bleeding into a sob when you noticed few of your possessions floating in the air, your magic quite literally having exploded outside of you.

Steven’s lips curled into a smile against your jaw and then you were tasting your essence – as well his much-satisfied grin – on your tongue, revelling in the warm weight of his body covering yours. It seemed your Steven had a few magic tricks up his sleeve too, mind-reading being one of them. You smiled into the kiss, using your grip on his hair to pull him even closer. He could never be close enough; and as he stood between your spread legs, his hard bulge brushing against your bare core, his lips and hands eager, you were certain he felt just the same.

“So beautiful for me,” he whispered to your mouth before retreating, darkened eyes sparkling with lust and pride as well as affection.

“And yours,” you hummed, fingers raking through his beard appreciatively, chuckling when fresh hunger flashed in his pupils. Oh how possessive your knight could be… how much joy it brought you to tease him. “Should I show you?”

A breathy yes was your only answer and so you gripped his shirt, using the fabric for leverage to you sit up. You kissed him again, hands sliding under his garments, gliding over his stomach, your magic flowing freely and healing whichever injuries you had missed earlier.

Easily ridding him of his shirt and pants in between sweet encounters of lips and shedding your clothes as well, you wrapped your legs around his waist, a faint whisper of ‘bed’ enough to have him pick you up without protest; on contrary, with quite the enthusiasm since his hardness throbbed when you led him to sit down with you in his lap.

“Missed you… love you… need you,” you confessed, his breathy voice echoing your sentiments as your lips brushed over every patch of his skin in reach, fingers wrapping around him and guiding him inside you, bliss surrounding you both when you finally sank yourself down his length in one fluid movement.

You rested your forehead against his and simply breathed, living in the moment of utter bliss; a different kind, not the almost primitive one, no, not the wild one. This moment belonged to serenity. Sharing air and warmth with your lover, tender hands appreciating the wide planes of his muscles, strength radiating from flesh and soul alike. And love. Always love.

As if he was able to read your mind once more, his lips sought out yours, a declaration of love indeed, simple, honest and unyielding. His thumb gently traced the pattern of your tattoo, its ink reaching from behind your ear over the side on your neck, a swirl over your left collarbone and spreading over your shoulder. I love you as you are, for all you are, his touch whispered even as no sound left his lips. And even if you felt no shame for your nature, your Steven’s acceptance caressed your soul as did his diligence; not once he had forgotten his ritual of reminding you that with him, your existence was not merely tolerated – but adored and celebrated. When you first understood the significance of this habit of his, tears had stung your eyes, kissed away before they could roll down your cheeks.

“Ľúbim ťa,” you had breathed out then, a love confession in the old language, and ever since, you had not failed to say it once in response to his gesture.

Then, rough fingertips carefully followed the line of a fine silver chain carrying a tear-shaped indigo sapphire, a token of affection usually hidden from plain sight, protected; a promise of faithfulness even as you remained unwed. You had no need for gemstones, but you understood its importance, the significance of the gesture; it made for your heart warm and safe upon its possession and for Steven’s heart lighter a pound of the burden of your circumstance.

Your circumstance was not one of the simple ones, a forbidden love one might say; in which you were the only forbidden thing. Forbidden to even live, let alone love or be loved; an abomination to some. A magic wielder, no doubt seducing the most honourable with her dark powers, for what other reason could be there for him to take liking in you? It mattered not that there was less than a little true to it, that your bond was of much purer nature, as common and as human as the blood you drew from your own veins to cast protection spells over your beloved. True did not matter. Should you reveal your relationship now, Steven would have been painted a victim; and you would have lived no more.

An easy circumstance yours was not at all; but your dedication to each other was to conquer all troubles. And in the meantime, you shall have moments of serenity and of passion, of you and him.

The smallest shift of Steven’s hand pulled from your thoughts, breath hitching when his fingers slid an inch lower, brushing over your nipple. Your hips buckled on instinct, drawing a groan from your lover’s lips, a grip on your bottom encouraging you to move.

Who were you to deny pleasure to you both?

Smiling, you withdrew, index finger covering Steve’s lips as he tried to follow, a discontent furrow to his brow. You tilted your head, thumb brushing over his swollen lips.

“Would you like me to dance still, lover mine?” you inquired teasingly, his disapproval at your actions wiped away in an instant, replaced by fire in his eyes.

Gentle flames of affection battled those of desire, his warm palm caressing over your lower cheeks, before he snapped you impossibly close, causing you to gasp – and to question who it was who had the upper hand here. Your hand fell to his chest, his heart beating wildly under your palm, an answer of its own.

Both then. It seemed you were both on top and simultaneously under the other’s thumb. Such a beautiful thing.

“Would you, bosorka moja?”

Your smile grew, lips attaching to his once more and planning to remain for as long as possible, first careful rock of your hips the first step to reach for the stars – together this time.

“Oh Steven… for my honourable knight? For you, my love? With pleasure…”

An absent smile played on Steve’s lips, his fingers running up and down your arm, appreciating the softness and warmth of your skin. An air of comfort and contentedness hovered around you as he held you close, fast asleep in his arms, cheek pressed to his chest as if the very sound of his heart against your ear lulled you to peaceful slumber.

Despite the sweetness of the idea, Steve felt his brows furrow in concern. While as he was perfectly happy to serve as a pillow for his beautiful lover, aware there was barely any greater expression of trust than a shared sleep, worry seized him for this occurrence was beyond rare. He once asked whether your incredible magic was an effortless as you made it seem, met with a weary chuckle and a kind, if a little condescending smile and a confession that if seen weak, your kind would have been an easy prey. Having understood he had taken your answer as a testimony to the lack of trust you had laid in him, you had also admitted that while the teachings of your ancestors had been deeply ingrained in your instincts, part of your reluctance to show your weakness to him was precisely what weighted his conscience just now. You simply could not be bothered to make him fret too much.

The fact you had let sleep take you alone was truly worrisome and Steve pondered just how exhausted you must have been. Even as the fresh memory of your breathless pleas for more and the cries of pleasure as you rode him till you both tasted heaven were nothing short of precious to him, he could not but wonder whether he was taking too much; your magic healing his wounds, your body a sanctuary to his love and fears.

Perhaps he had. But who could ever blame him?

Steven had never known a woman like this – unafraid to give, just as unshy to take; one or the other, but never like this. He had fallen for you and had fallen hard, body and soul. Yes, should anyone call him selfish, they would not be wrong, because Gods, did he take what he craved and lusted – and yet. Yet, every moment with you felt ethereally right as your still unconscious form drifted closer, almost as if you sensed his thoughts and wished for them to evaporate. And so far, they always had, dissolved in your easy smile when you refused his offer and plea to come with him; to bring you to the castle with him so he could give as well, give more, provide and protect and worship you in his home, your new home, true home where you would not have to hide in the middle of the woods like some sort of an abomination.

It is not the time yet, my love. It will come, you would always say, washing away his guilt with a sweet kiss and a promise. One day. One day I shall come with you and we should be unabashedly happy with no fear, free to be you and me.

He had let your words and touch sooth him, always; but not today. Your body having melted into his had his protective instinct flare up, determination set in his very heart. He should convince you today, to make you his and him yours as two people in love deserved. He shall make an honest woman of you in the eyes of the whole kingdom at last. It was what you were worthy of, for you were worthy of anything and everything. And with you… he believed he deserved the same. He could not stand it anymore. Parting ways with you, only to hope for your next stolen moment to come the very minute after he had left. He could no longer bear you existing so close and yet so far out of his reach.

No, he shall convince you today, insist more than ever. He wanted this, he wished for nothing more than to lay to sleep like this every night, with you. You deserved it. You deserved the world and he shall lay it to your feet, for his honour and his benefit at once.

Any other day, you would have berated yourself for having fallen asleep; but knowing the changes your body was going through, weariness settling in sooner than it used to, it only brought a smile to your face when you found yourself waking to Steven’s tender fingers carding through your hair.

The night was slowly falling. Wandering the woods in darkness would have been an unnecessary risk for anyone, even for a skilled knight with your protective spell over him; your lover was more than aware of it and still, you could tell it pained him to bring you out of your slumber nevertheless. It was no feat to kiss his guilt away, smiles adorning your faces, noses caressing, hands wandering, nearly leading you back into the clutches of lust.

He sat patiently on your bed now, half dressed as you took your blade, his eyes following your every move with more attention than ever as he absently sipped chamomile tea; he found himself deep in thought, such was obvious. It was not difficult to guess where his mind had trailed off to, for it had always been the same.

His voice was soft when he spoke the words, a soft wrinkle on his forehead as your cut your finger and stood between his spread legs.

“Come with me.”

A sad smile played in the corner of your lips as your heart fluttered at his plea, one he never failed to deliver, even as your sigh must have sounded weary every time.

“I cannot. Not yet.”

Steven was no half-wit, which was more than could said about many of the people of Starkerbürg. He knew precisely why you could not come; why you never could, at least not yet. Magic was still forbidden – as if it was a choice, as if one could choose to stop breathing and still live – hated for the pain and destruction the dark twisted witches and sorcerers had once left in their wake, misusing magic to spread fear and suffering. It was not just that all magic wielders were still paying the price for what their ancestors had done. It was even less just that you, not having done any harm unless you needed to escape imminent danger to your life, should live a hermit life, too far from your love and lover. Yet it was how times were, still.

But you were no fool either. You could feel Steven’s uneasiness growing heavier every time he left without you, for it went against his very nature, against the need to keep you close, to hold you, to love – to protect you from harm. You had no doubt he would lay his life for you. You could not allow him to do that, not when the time was finally growing near for your love to be cherished as any other, time for your kind to be free. You must not lose him to rushed foolishness. He was no longer only yours to lose.

“I would protect you,” he promised, steely conviction in his husky voice.

As sweet as the sentiment was, you could not but smirk, a knowing gaze reminding him that should the situation require it, you could very well protect yourself, even as your true gift – the one special talent every magic wielder had, naturally developed with barely any practice – was of the healing kind. Should you truly wished, you could burn villages with terrifying ease; gods knew sorcerers and sorceresses had done this and more with a single snap of their fingers.

Steve took no offence in your teasing gaze; but the determination in his own remained unshaken as you begun to draw the protective symbol over his sternum.

“The time is yet come for people to understand the blessings of magic again, for its light to outshine the darkness it had sowed,” you reasoned, as much as it pained you. “The time shall come soon, I promise. It is simply not today, my love.”

Long fingers circled your wrist, gentle but firm, having you cease your movement, your gaze meeting the brilliant blue roaming over your face.

“I miss you. All days, all nights. I-“ he paused, licking his lips, a shadow of hurt passing over his face. “Don’t you?”

Your heart soared, a sigh leaving your lips. Steven was not easy on you today; but your conviction and determination was just as strong as his. You had to be brave and so did he. A few days longer, that would be all you needed. The right time would come. You were certain of it, even as it was nothing but a whisper of intuition in the back of your mind. Wait, the voice said, the time grows near, but you must wait.

“Do not do this, rytier moj,” you scolded Steven, letting gentleness seep into your voice. “It does not suit you. You must know I love you. I miss you too. And I worry. All days. All nights. Therefore…”

You wiggled your fingers, Steven’s shoulders sagging as he released you, an exasperated pout to his lips – unjustly adorable – as you resumed your work. You smiled widely despite your unnerving circumstance; he would give you anything and everything. The knowledge of this, having been reminded by every little gesture, every word he spoke, made for the warmest feeling in your soul.

Content with your handiwork as you drew the last spiral, you had to swallow a chuckle when Steven’s brows furrowed in confusion, head bowing, eyes flickering over the unfamiliar pattern. A triskele instead of a simple two-headed spiral. A symbol speaking more words than your knight could ever imagine in his wildest dreams, you supposed.

“It’s different.”

Shrugging, you withdrew your hand, calling to your magic to finish the ritual.

“You always draw two spirals connected…” Steve continued, eyes growing large and curious.

“I do”, you agreed softly.

He observed you, intrigued. He had once said he might not understand your power, but he swore he would always try. He would not dare to question your rituals, but you could almost feel how fast his thoughts whirled in a frantic search for an answer. The ritual had remained the same, always, countless times, over and over… why would you steer from it today of all days? What was its significance? What had changed?

Oh Steven. Your sweet, sweet Steven… if he only knew.

“You always say it is about love. The unity of us. You and me,” he said slowly and you nodded, unable to contain your joy any longer, eyes surely glimmering.

“Yes. Our love, you and me. Unity of two.”

His eyes, roaming your face in silent question still, suddenly widened, flickering down and snapping back up as the realization dawned on him, leaving his lips slightly parted.

You simply shrugged, a chuckle shaking your chest, while guilt already began to gnaw at your conscience. You should have not told him, not yet. But how could you have kept it for yourself? How could you have denied yourself a little indulgence, even when knowing nothing could change just yet? You simply wished to see him learn your sweet secret, yours and his, even if for a moment, see he was equally elated.

Your knight did not disappoint you, not that you believed he ever could. His face was a perfect blend of shock and delight, radiating joy and hope and shame and sadness in equal amount as he stammered, shaky hand reaching out to carefully brush his fingers over your belly showing no signs of the treasure growing inside yet.

“You- are you—are we? Oh gods-“ And then, as you predicted, his expression shifted in an instant, determination taking deep root. “Then you must come with me. Allow me to take care of you, to-“

Satisfied and aching at once, you promptly shushed him with your still bloody finger to his lips. A single tear rolled down your cheek; a testimony to happiness, reassured anew of your lover’s goodness and dedication to you. To your family. The wonder, the glimmer of hope and the conviction in Steven’s expression would stay with you till you could grant him his wish.

“The time has not yet come, my love. I share your joy. And your worry,” you whispered through the tightness of your throat, even as a smile adorned your lips. Your finger drew a small cross over his mouth despite the pain it caused you. You had had your moment – and that had to be enough for now. “I am sorry, rytier moj. But you shall not remember this, not yet.”

Before he could as much as take a breath, you withdrew your hand, the symbols on his chest and lips disappearing with a soft glow. Disoriented, your knight blinked, steadying himself by the hand on your hip even as he remained seated.

With a shaky inhale you composed yourself before he could, leaning forward and planting a tender kiss on his lips, fingers raking through his hair. His hand cradled your jaw, adoring.

“Be careful,” you spoke against his lips, earning another small peck.

“Always.”

You retreated with a huff, shaking your head as you went to find an ointment you knew his friend would soon need.

“You speak as if I did not know you, Steven. A basilisk chimera’s teeth three inches from your throat, I heard? Careful indeed.”

His smile was sheepish as he rose to his full height, tying the top of his shirt before reaching for the garments you had so hastily rid him of earlier.

“I always try. The idea that should I fail, I shall never see you again… it can be quite a motivation,” he sweet-talked, succeeding just a bit in softening your exasperation.

Perhaps the vision of him dutifully putting on his armour, making his frame appear even larger – and protected – calmed you further.

“Well, Steven, try harder,” you snipped, pressing a tiny pot into his hand, earning a raised brow. “And take this to Peter, the wound on his leg was already turning foul. And this…”

You reached for a salve you had prepared for when a wave of nausea had taken you by surprise, dipped your finger in the dark substance and carefully patted it over Steven’s brow where his cut had been. You did not expect Steven to feel nauseous – after all he was not the one carrying a new life under his heart – but the colour was convenient. A cut healing so rapidly would have casted a dangerous suspicion on whoever he had interacted with – or worse, on Steven himself. You could not have that.

He observed you softly as you tended to him, adding a small tap where a bruise had begun to form earlier on his cheekbone. He did not utter a word until you were satisfied with your work. Once your hands fell to your sides, his own framed your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your nose and finally your mouth again, a bittersweet goodbye.

“Always so meticulous and careful… always so good. Taking care of me, of my friends…” he mused, breathing you in one last time, hovering, hesitating more than usual. Almost, almost as if your spell had not worked and he still knew. As if he still knew precisely what he was leaving behind this time. “Take care of the person most precious to me too? Until I come back again?”

There might be two of those for you now, you thought, the memory of his delight flashing in your mind, bringing a smile to your lips as you nuzzled into his touch and kissed his palm.

Looking up at his face, you echoed his own reassurance. “Always.”

With one last kiss and hearts as heavy as light, you declared your love to each other. You walked him out quietly, watching him disappear between the trees, his gaze turning to you several times, always finding you standing at the doorstep of his true home, a tender smile on your lips.

Once he was out of sight, you released a sigh, hand settling over your belly, a tear stinging in your eye despite the corners of your lips having been turn upwards.

Yes. The time was yet to come for the people to see again the blessings of magic. For now… the blessing of love already bloomed and it was enough.

Očaruj mě - Bewitch Me (a fic with the same pairing in the same universe)

Ochraňuj mě - Protect Me (a fic with the same pairing in the same universe)

S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this one

Complete masterlist

Yes, I’m mixing symbols, I know… do I care? Nope.

Terms of endearment/addressing used from Slovak language: bosorka moja = witch mine rytier môj = knight mine ľubim ťa = I love you

Thank you for reading!💕 I wrote it in between really difficult exams in the ocourse of two months and it needed a LOT of editing afterwards too, so... feedback is, as always, appreciated 🥰

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #knight steve rogers #knight steve rogers x reader #knight steve rogers x you #knight steve rogers imagine #medieval au #fantasy au #fairy tale au #lemons #pomiluj me #anika ann

258 notes · View notes