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#at least the woods outside my window looks beautiful in the morning sun
navybrat817 · 1 year
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In His Hands
Pairing: Woodworker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky's new project is his favorite one yet for a very special reason. Word Count: Over 2k Warnings: Fluff, implied sexual content, pregnancy, slight feels (it's me), minor flashback, canon divergent, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. A/N: My first Connect 4 (C4007 - Square 2) / Into an Alternate Juneiverse for @buckybarnesevents! Set in Into the Woods AU and time jump from Valentine's Day Tradition, but can be read as a standalone.❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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The buzz of the table saw echoed in the barn as Bucky carefully cut through the maple board, inspecting it to make sure it was even. He put a lot of thought and care into each project and design he created. Everything from cost to maintenance to longevity. His current project was especially close to his heart.
My favorite one yet.
After the fight, coming to grips with his trauma, everything, the city felt different. Bucky longed to have a simpler life. He unexpectedly found a bit of peace in the form of woodwork. Using his hands to build things, and not damage them, kept him busy and happy. But the thing that brought everything full circle was you.
His wife.
"Doll, I still can't believe you said yes."
"Who would say no to you, Jamie?"
He glanced at a photo of the two of you on the wall, still in disbelief that he got to wake up beside you every morning. He found it more and more difficult to get out of bed when he wanted to stay tangled up with you, but the bills wouldn't pay themselves and he had to work to get a paycheck. Lucky for him, his "office" was in the nearby barn. The yard was a decent size, too.
"Great place for a family one day, isn't it?"
"Just about perfect, doll."
Like Steve, he hadn't expected to love living a quiet life outside of the city, but he did. You made a beautiful home together and it wasn't that far of a drive if he wanted to visit. He wondered some days if he was living in a dream because things seemed too good to be true.
If so, he never wanted to wake up.
"Need you to be perfect," he said to himself as he cut another board.
He checked the design again, his eyes narrowed as he thought about how long it would take to finish. You gave him your seal of approval when he showed his idea and reminded him not to put too much pressure on himself. He had plenty of time to make it and other projects came first.
But he hadn't had a task as important as this one.
He removed his safety glasses when the sun shone through the window, giving the place a soothing glow and him a moment to pause and reflect. He made love to you that morning. There was no pain in his left shoulder. Steve planned to stop by this evening. It was just about a perfect day.
How is this my life?
"You know, I think that is going to be your best work yet."
Bucky turned his attention to where you stood in the doorway. He couldn't keep the smile off his face when he noticed you had one of his shirts on. You looked good in his clothes, always had. And seeing you enter a room still took his breath away. He didn't think he could love you more, but he did each day.
If I ever stop breathing from the sight of you, at least your face will be the last thing I see.
His gaze went to your stomach before he closed the distance between the two of you and placed his large hand on it. He hadn't built a crib, but he did his research to be sure he'd make the best and safest one possible. It would be something to hopefully pass on to future generations. Another tradition.
But first and foremost, it would belong to the baby.
Our baby.
"I'm just getting started, but I think you're right," Bucky said, sinking to his knees and kissing your belly. "Only the best for our little jellybean."
Most days he couldn't keep his hands off of you, but it got worse once he found out you were pregnant with his child. You were glowing, more than usual, and he was a moth drawn to the flame. Thankfully you didn't mind and let him indulge.
Your need matched his own.
He'd never forget the joy he felt when you told him you were pregnant. You often brought him snacks or lunch while he worked, but that day you brought him a small gift box, too. It wasn't his birthday or a special occasion, so he had no idea what it could possibly be. Inside were two positive pregnancy tests. He almost dropped them, too stunned to speak. His heart almost burst through his chest when he saw the happy tears in your eyes.
"We're having a baby, Bucky. You're going to be a dad!"
It took a minute to sink in. You were having his baby. He was going to be a dad. You were giving him a family. A life he had only dreamt of.
'I still have to see a doctor, but-"
His mouth came down on yours before you could finish what you had to say, his massive hands framing your face so he could deepen the kiss. He poured his love, passion, soul, everything into it. He took you right there on one of his empty work tables, his left hand on your stomach the entire time.
"I love you, doll. Love you both so much."
He brought you back to the house and made love to you all over again, taking his time to worship you. He didn't get any work done the rest of the day. It was worth it.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, concern filling his eyes when you yawned.
He always checked on you during his breaks to make sure you felt okay, even when you insisted that he didn't need to. Days like this when you visited the barn first, he still had to ask. Any discomfort or pains, he wanted to know and help however he could.
"Just fine," you assured him, tucking a few strands of hair that came loose from his ponytail behind his ear. Just like he couldn't stop touching you, you always found an excuse to run your fingers through his long, brown locks since he grew it back out. "A bit tired, but fine."
"You're not wearing your mama out, are you?" he asked your belly. He pressed his ear against it and felt a slight kick, as if he got an answer. "Good because she needs rest. She has enough to deal with taking care of me."
"We take care of each other," you said.
Bucky wanted to believe that. You had a good set-up in the city before the two of you decided to move and he worried you'd regret going with him. You reminded him that you were still going to work from home and it was a choice you made together.
Partners. Equals. Soulmates.
"Yes, we do," he said fondly, focusing on your stomach again. "But can you believe she had the nerve to ask if we should buy you a crib? Like she forgot I could make you one. Don't hold it against her, jellybean. Hormones and baby brain."
"Bucky!" you scolded before you laughed.
He chuckled as he kissed your stomach a second time. "I'm kidding. Kind of. I did have to drive all over town the other day to find the potato chips she wanted."
Bucky would drive to the ends of the earth to satisfy any craving you had.
"Hey. Our baby is the one asking for them and it was the only flavor that would provide any satisfaction," you defended yourself. "And I balanced it out with fruit, so everyone wins."
"Yes we do and I'm glad. I need you both nice and healthy," he said as he stood up.
"We're both fine. You know that," you smiled.
He hadn't missed a single appointment, wanting to be there every step of the way. Listening to his baby's heartbeat was like hearing his favorite song again for the first time. He actually waved at the screen when you had your sonogram. And he swore the baby waved back.
Bucky also bought a few books on babies and parenthood. While he knew some life lessons couldn't be learned from a book, he wanted to be prepared. You supported him in that and baby proofing the house in advance.
Your only request was that you didn't want to know what you were having, which he agreed to.
It would be a beautiful surprise for both of you.
"Need you both safe, too," he added.
"We are safe," you said, glancing around. "Our home is safe. You don't need to worry."
Bucky tried not to. Your home was secure and he kept a clean and safe shop in the barn, but he didn't want to take a risk by having you too close to any of the tools or get irritated by the dust. The only table he let you touch was the empty one where he made love to you. Maybe that was why it was still empty.
"I guess you're right," he said, brushing his lips against your forehead. "You know if we have a girl, I'm never letting her out of my sight."
"Oh, I know," you giggled, putting your hand on his wide chest. Feeling the wedding band through his shirt was one of his favorite things. "And if we have a boy, you'll teach him to be a gentleman. Though I imagine he'll probably be just like you."
"Hey, I am a gentleman, ma'am," he smiled.
"Mmm. You keep telling yourself that," you teased.
Bucky hoped they took after you. Kind, but fierce. Loving and fair. Whether he had a daddy's girl or a mini version of himself, he just wanted to have a special place in their heart.
"And you really don't mind that I'm making the crib, do you?"
"Of course, I don't," you said, frowning. He immediately kissed your lips to make it disappear. "Why?"
"Just making sure," he said, rubbing your belly. The source of comfort from such a small gesture amazed him. "I think I just feel better knowing our baby is truly in my hands."
It was silly, but Bucky thought if he made the crib that it would be like he was holding your child as he or she slept. That no matter what, they would be safe and cared for. Surrounded by familiarity and warmth.
Your baby deserved that and more.
"I think that's a beautiful thing," you assured him, placing a hand over his. "You work so hard for us and I know our baby will one day appreciate that you built them something with your heart and hands."
His hands, like the rest of him, were massive and strong. A man his size was meant to destroy, which he did in battle and worse. He also proved that he was meant to create. His size never intimidated you. In fact, you once said that one of many things that made him special was how deceptively gentle he could be.
That the only ruin he would bring you with his touch would make you whole again.
In my hands, you'll always be loved.
"I'll always work hard for my family," he promised.
He hadn't told you yet, but he planned to build a rocking chair for the nursery, too. He wanted it to be a surprise. He could already picture the two of you sitting in it with a soft blanket to keep you warm.
The image made his heart swell.
"And if I have my way, we'll have one more. Jellybean could use a companion."
"Now you sound just like Steve. Both of you wanting to keep your best girls knocked up," you smiled, sliding your hands up his muscular arms to his shoulders. "You think you'll convince me?"
"I don't think. I know," he smirked, kissing you before you could argue.
As excited as Bucky was for the next part in your journey together, he was also afraid. He knew he'd be a good father, but not a perfect one. He'd make mistakes and stumble along the way. He wouldn't always have the answer. What he did know was that he was going to give his child unconditional love and care.
Starting with the crib built with his heart and hands.
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Bucky is going to be an amazing dad, right? And how about Steve? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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yume-yuurei · 5 months
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Picture-perfect fairytale romance 1/3
Synopsis: Fairytales help tell children of all sides of human life without exposing them to real dangers. But what will happen if a child keeps their favorite story far too close to heart, projecting fantasies onto reality?
TW for mildly delusional Neige (only hints of it in this part), kinda ooc, MC only gets called 'knight' one time with no real descriptions, so you could say they're gn, barely proof read. I'm going to write two more parts later, as I cannot allow myself to write a story without at least attempting to look at it from all possible angles. :P
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"...Trees parted before the brave knight, bowing in respect and opening the path ahead. Soon he came to a clearing in the woods.
Among the flowerbeds and tall grass laid a cloud of white and pink sateen. Upon coming closer, the knight realized that it was a person! A beautiful young woman with a face fresh like first snow. Her locks gently framed her face, bringing out its soft shape. The lady's lips, red like old wine, were barely open. Beads of tears sat on her lashes, glistening like morning dew. As if enchanted, the knight kneeled over the sleeping beauty, reaching out a hand to touch her and make sure what he was seeing was no dream.
No matter what, the woman wouldn't wake up, lost in her slumber - or perhaps a heavy spell cast on her. Concerned animals peered at the man from behind the bushes, hopeful at the thought he'd finally awaken the princess. The hero kneeled at her side, brushing a stray strand of hair aside to take a proper look on her face. Then, slowly and carefully, he leaved closer, connecting their lips in a kiss....
The spell fell, and the beauty's eyes opened once again..."
Stories like this one are a classic. A princess, a knight and a kiss of true love. What happens after is always the same. Every child has heard at least one of such tales, many have and still do dream to live out a magical story like that.
"...And they lived happily ever after."
Forever and ever, even after eternity.
A woman in her twenties sat on the bed of a small boy. Resemblance between them was clear as day - hair dark like wood, skin white as snow, lips red as fresh blood. The woman shut the book in her hands and placed it on a nightstand. She leaned down to place a kiss on top of her son's forehead. The boy giggled, rubbing his face with a chubby hand to wipe away a lipstick stain.
"Now, dear, it's time to sleep."
With a light motion, she tucked the blanket in at his sides to keep him warm at night. Beady-eyed plush animals and soft frilly pillows surrounded him. With a final fond gaze, the woman snuffed out all lights, disappearing after turning a corner.
The boy clutched his blanket, turning on a side to look into the open window. Darkness enveloped the night sky; only stars, usually outshone by the great Sun, dared to come out and hold their post, spilling light on all that's hiding in the dark. They stay high up to bear witness to all wishes shared with them at late hours, hearing out desperate calls of hopeful hearts. And that night, the stars heeded a young soul's wish.
"Maybe... Someday My Princess Will Come?"
Ringing of school bells was resonating through the entire building. Students flooded from classrooms, crowding in halls, desperate to escape classes as soon as they could. The commotion they were causing could be heard from outside, some students rushing to Mirror Hall, some staying back to turn in their assignments, attend clubs or hang out with friends. You could see all of that through the windows 
Rook promised to meet you near front gates to escort you to the gardens. He was assigned as your personal alchemy tutor by Professor Crewel. As eccentric as this particular junior seemed, his vast knowledge was deserving of recognition - as expected of a vice-leader of Pomefiore, a dorm specializing in potionology, and his strictness regarding practical assignments could rival even that of the Professor himself. So, a perfect solution for a poor magicless student that has never had anything to do with magical herbs. Originally, both you and Grim had had to attend tutoring sessions, but the latter turned tail at the last moment, and even if he were to be brought back forcefully, he'd be more of a distraction than anything else. That's where it leaves you - in front of the gates, glancing at your phone every few seconds in doubt and growing disbelief. Rook was running late.
The hunter told you specifically to wait for him after seventh lesson as it was supposed to be the last in his schedule, so where is he? Could he have been held back by his dormleader to discuss important matters, or stolen by co-members of science club that were in need of advice and assistance, or perhaps even lost in a pursue of a curious non-human student he wanted to observe before they escape his sights?
As if there was nothing on your to-do list for today, other than loitering around, waiting for him. It's hard to suppress a sigh. You took the waiting time as an opportunity to look around.
And there was a reason to it. With how wild Night Raven is, it had been near impossible to take a breather (or was it just your luck?) and enjoy something as simple as fresh air. A shame it is - there is so much to see in Twisted Wonderland. Try and find a single fairy, dragon or fire-breathing flower on Earth; but there, nothing of such is a novelty. To think about it, ever since arriving to NRC, you haven't spared a thought to how this world works: Where does magic even come from, and how exactly does it work? Why don't mages try and reuse accumulated blot, like humans in your world do to wastes? How did they manage to advance in technology when they seem to rely so heavily on their magical abilities? Do beastmen and merfolk actually have any biological relation to humans or-
Rustling of leaves took your mind away from daydreaming. For a second you expected Rook to emerge from the bushes, or maybe even from the top of a tree, picking a stray leave out of his hair and greeting you in his own special manner, but what appeared before your eyes did not resemble the hunter in the slightest. In his stead before you stood a... deer? Doe-eyed, absent-minded creature on four long trembling legs - undoubtedly a deer, but what would it be doing on school grounds?
The dreamy animal seemed to pay no mind to your presence, taking a step out of the forest and heading down the main street. It sniffed around, possibly looking for something or just lost, before averting its attention to a small shiny object lying in the grass. The deer picked it up it its teeth after a few awkward attempts and turned back to where it had come from, steps hurried and unsure.
The prefect has seen things. They have seen creatures of many magical kinds, most curious of artifacts and wildest of spectacles. They've been through it all. But suddenly, what they found to be fascinating is a regular deer, same as any other one inhabitating the Earth, carrying a little treasure - most likely a trinket lost by a careless student - into the forest. And as they always did, they decided to follow their heart's impulsive call in favor of satiating their curiosity, stalking after the animal carefully, as not to alert it, - tutoring session be damned.
Trail had turned many times, but eventually you noticed a clearing from afar. As if a picture taken straight from a fairytale book, the area was enveloped in light and surrounded by tall trees, serving as a barrier between that piece of paradise and the outside world. Blankets of grass were laid upon the ground, so each of your steps was silenced - nothing could disturb peace there. It almost seemed like time had been frozen. And among all the beauty of nature sat a figure. Flowers bloomed brighter, grass felt softer, predating animals were peaceful and pliant - all in their presence. If not for the most vigilant of them, sensing your smell ever since you passed the barrier, you would've stopped to admire the sight; alas, after receiving a message from one of their little friends, the figure turned around, catching you approaching them.
Their beauty took your breath away.
The first thing - person - your mind brought up is Snow White from the old children's tale. What uncanny resemblance. Cherry-red lips, contrasting unbelievably pale complexion, shiny ink-black hair, and obvious innocence oozing off of every fiber of their being. His being.
"Ah... hello?"
Staying silent would be awkward... and weird. He probably had come here to escape from noisy school grounds and find a sliver of peace and privacy, but here you were, disturbing the angelic boy, having uncovered his secret place, and-
"Hello! What brought you here? Have you perhaps gotten lost?", his smile is something made high above, as that's the only reasoning you could give to the sudden calm that overtook you when you saw it.
"No, not exactly. I just noticed a-", you noticed the oh-so-familiar deer nudge the boy before you with its head, dropping the stolen shiny item off onto the ground near him, "that one deer! It stole something from the school grounds; a student must've lost it, so... as a prefect, I wanted to...", his eyes brightened up upon inspecting the trinket - it turned out to be a keychain - with such child-like wonder, "...as I prefect, I wanted to make sure it got back to the owner, but if you like it, I guess it can't be helped! Doubt I would've been able to find who it belongs to anyways, so...haha.."
"How could I! I am sure this accessory must be precious to its owner, I cannot take it for myself.", in one graceful motion, the stranger got up to his feet and approached you, holding the keychain in both palms, as if offering a fragile and expensive gem, "It's so nice of you to take initiative and go all the way here to retrieve this. Please, bring it back safely, I hope it'll make the person who lost this happier."
He was saying all that like he was entrusting you a task of ultimate importance, and with such a serious expression, too...
"Yeah, sure, I will..", you received the item from him, accidentally brushing fingers against his skin - soft, so soft and gentle... A flash of light blinked in the corner of your eye, but died down as soon as it appeared.
"By the way," it was only at that moment that his uniform catched your attention, "Aren't you a Royal Swords Academy student? What are you doing so far away, especially near Night Raven?"
"Oh, you noticed.. To put it simple, I enjoy taking walks around there. It-", he stumbled over words, first time in the last few minutes, "I got bored of sights near my school, and decided to find someplace different. Surely, I'm not bothering anyone nearby?"
Avoiding questions now? "You're not, don't worry, I was just curious, never seen you around there. Care for introductions?"
"...are you saying you don't know me?", the boy inquired with cleat disbelief in voice.
"If I knew you, would I be asking for your name?"
Still unsure, he shook his head gently, clutching at his vest. "You wouldn't... So you really haven't seen anything?", his tone changes suddenly, "That's fine, more than! My name is Neige, pleased to meet you."
You took the hand he offered for a handshake and gave Neige your own name. Wind picked up a notch, kicking up fallen leaves and dust and blowing right in your face; while you were blinked profusely, the boy still looked like he came out of a magazine cover, if not better than before.
Soon you both went your separate ways, the sparkly keychain clinking in your blazer pocket. Trying to retrace your steps back to Night Raven must be bothersome, but not impossible - you'll be back before dusk.
So thought Neige, staying back behind a tree to have one more chance to look at you. So kind, so simple - knightly, even! So eager to help out a schoolmate in need. And here he thought Gran had been right about NRC students being crude. Or was there a mistake, and you had been sent to a wrong place?
"They would fit in with us well... Dominic would surely like them."
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thesweetnessofspring · 6 months
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Trick or Treat!!!
Prompt: Katniss and Peeta trying to have their first Halloween post-rebellion.
(Could be moodboars, drabble, headcanons, etc..) 🧡🖤🧡
I don't think Panem (or at least D12) have Halloween, but I have a little something for Everlark in their first autumn post-rebellion.
First, some music for ya:
Our bedroom has gotten colder these past few weeks, but we don't shut the window. Peeta emanates enough heat to keep us warm under our blankets. When my nose gets cold, I bury my head into his neck and warm up right against his skin.
This morning, my nose buried between his neck and our pillow, I'm between the place of a rare pleasant dream and the grounded reality of Peeta's arms around me. And something in me is so grateful for him, I give him a kiss on his collarbone.
He stirs under me and asks in his deep, groggy morning voice, "Katniss?"
I hadn't thought of him feeling the kiss and I wonder if I should be self-conscious of what I just did. We've been sharing a bed since the start of summer, but we hadn't kissed one another yet. A lot holding each other, hands wiping away tears, but nothing to give way to what we had been that night on the beach.
I pull back and hope not to talk about it. Even hope that maybe he'll question if it was his own pleasant dream.
"I have a surprise for you," I say. "But you have to get up and get dressed."
"What's the surprise?" he asks.
"That's not how surprises work," I say as I pull back the covers and sit up. "Get dressed. Sturdy shoes and warm."
He doesn't ask any more questions as he goes to the closet to pick out his clothes while I go to the bathroom to change into mine. From there, I go to the kitchen and prepare two thermoses of hot tea, one with a spoonful of sugar and one unsweetened. I'd prepared both of our bags the night before and give Peeta his.
Outside, our hands automatically find one another as we walk in the dark autumn morning. The rest of the district continues to sleep, the skeletons of buildings in the middle of their construction waiting for the workers to return.
We walk past the Seam, past the meadow, and past the apple trees we'd spent last week gathering to make apple fritters. The palest sunbeams filter through the forest's trees, dark pines and autumnal oak.
Peeta's grip tightens. "You're bringing me in here?"
"It's safe," I say. "I'll make sure you stay safe."
"It's not that," he says. "I guess I've always thought of this as your place. Yours and...his."
"It's anyone's who wants it to be theirs now," I say. "And I want to show it to you."
He acquiesces and follows me into the forest. I keep an eye on him. Even without a fence or Peacekeepers enforcing the perimeter, few people have braved the woods. Yet Peeta takes it all in with round, awed eyes. Sometimes I can sense he wants to stop and pause, but I keep us moving until we reach the rock ledge looking out to the crests of mountains and the spine of the valley below. The sun has illuminated the land with morning honey light, filtering through a distant mist. It is a dappled mixture of deep green pine trees, yellow-leaved birches, orange-leaved oaks.
I've seen it every fall for years, so instead I take in Peeta's face as he faces a scenery entirely new to him. Yesterday he'd been admiring a single leaf from the oak tree at the entrance of Victors Village and I knew then he had to see this place of unimaginable, untouched beauty, blooming with the season's colors. And he doesn't disappoint. A long puff of a cloud emerges from his lips parted in wonder and the corners of his mouth peak up.
"This is beautiful," he says.
"I put your travelling paints in your backpack," I say. "In case you want to paint it."
"I most definitely do."
I get out the food I'd packed in my bag while Peeta prepares his watercolors and paper and gets to working. I've divided up the breakfast of raisin bread, candied pecans, and apples onto two plates but I've finished all of mine before Peeta looks up from his colors to nibble on his own. I sip my tea and simply watch the sun rise over the ridges and Peeta's hands dabble color onto his paper.
When he's finished he sets it aside to dry a little as he finishes his breakfast and sits back.
"I'd seen these colors on the mountains around us, but I could never imagine what it'd be like to look down on them," Peeta says.
"There's still a lot of beauty for us to see," I say.
"I don't know what I could possibly show you," he says.
I think of what I can't put into words. Hope. Light. Warmth. The beauty Peeta gives me every day is so much more precious than this view, even if it's all I have to offer him in return.
Instead, I lean forward and kiss him on the cheek so he knows this isn't a dream.
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I'll Bet You Think About Me
Summary: Feyre Archerons neighbor stands out on their shared deck each morning.
Totally naked.
Read what the critics are saying: "ITS LIKE YOU DONT CARE THAT YOURE KILLING ME" and "IM CHOKING OH MY GOD RHYS 😂😂😂"
moodboard by @velidewrites, beta'd and written for @the-lonelybarricade who gave me explicit permission to rip off her own neighbor fic, You Look Like Bad News (which you should all go read so she will UPDATE IT FOR ME)
Read on AO3
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Feyre worked strange hours. 
She didn’t have to, of course. She rented out studio space downtown that offered twenty-four hour access via a keycard and Feyre found she much preferred to paint at two in the morning…and again at two in the afternoon. In between, she taught a painting class to rambunctious hospital children all the way across the city, and three painting classes at night for adults who liked to drink wine. She had enough money, thanks to some wealthy business man purchasing one of her paintings, to afford one of the nicer townhouses in a quieter part of the city. Did she need that much space? No. But she liked it.
She liked the dark wood floors and the bay window that overlooked the street. She liked the crown molding and having two bathrooms upstairs and half of one downstairs.
And most of all, Feyre liked her neighbor. Rhysand. She knew because she’d once gotten a piece of mail for him, numbered for next door but slid into her box. She’d returned it, turning that name over in her mind.
He didn’t realize she lived there. At least, that’s what she assumed, given every morning he bade his strolled onto the back deck they shared totally and utterly naked. She’d been standing outside the sliding glass door, about to introduce herself to him. 
He’d introduced himself, instead. 
Rhysand. 
Rhysand with his golden brown skin and his muscular body. Rhysand, with his raven’s black hair and eyes so blue that they seemed violet in the early morning sun. Rhysand, with those dark, black inked tattoos over his broad shoulders and chest.
And Rhysand, with his absurdly large cock. She’d heard the phrase shower versus grower, but never had Feyre understood what that meant until she saw the thick, heavy appendage hanging casually between Rhysand's muscular thighs. 
Feyre made sure she was home every morning to see him strut out on the deck. Sometimes he went alone, nothing in hand, to lean against the railing and stare out at the river in the distance. Other times he had coffee or a book. A few times a very naked woman would join him—always different, which made her feel a little better.
It wasn’t as if she had a shot in hell with him. Rhysand looked like he had an expensive job. Like he’d been born into money and his life was merely a natural extension of that. He certainly wasn’t covered in paint at any given time, and the women he brought home weren’t, either.
Still, he was a nice little fantasy. Most morning’s Ferye lied to herself about why she watched him. It wasn’t, she swore, because he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.
He was merely a good body study. Examining him so closely, watching the way his muscles shifted and pulled, made her a better artist. And Feyre was consumed with being a better artist. She’d never been able to get past the awkwardness that came from studying nude figures, but since Rhysand didn’t know he was being watched, Feyre didn’t have to feel uncomfortable. 
It took her three months of living in the townhouse to work up the nerve to sketch him. He’d been leaned over the railing, one leg popped out, the other stretched behind him. No penis—only his rather nice ass and the bunching muscles in his back. He stayed that way just long enough for her to get a rough outline of him. 
She hadn’t slept that morning—Feyre had to finish her charcoal drawing. It had made her class that night hell and still, was well worth it. She’d managed to capture his contemplation rather well, which always made her giddy.
A week later, she’d pulled it out again to draw him spread in a chair. That sketch was more self-indulgent and yet the way his cock hung between his thighs, the head pressed to his leg, was more good work. New work. She’d transferred it onto an easel, using oil to draw out his mood and the world around him. 
If he hadn’t been a real person, Feyre was sure she could have sold it. He was absurdly beautiful, even drawn from her own hand. The world deserved to know someone like him existed. 
It was a violation in and of itself to even draw him, let alone put one of those pictures up for auction. It wasn’t as if he knew and Feyre was positive if he learned he had a neighbor, he would have put on pants. 
She managed to stay out of his line of sight for a full six months. She might have managed it forever had they not met on the sidewalk just outside their shared walkway. He had his arm around a giggling brunette. Her dress was riding up over her ass and his tie was pulled off his neck.
Feyre was covered in paint.
The three of them paused, looking at each other. His dark brows furrowed, keys in his hand. 
“Hey, neighbor,” she said awkwardly. He blinked those violet eyes, his expression illuminated under the porchlight.
“How long…” his words were slurred. “Neighbor?” 
“Six months,” she informed him sheepishly. Fuck this was so awkward. Her stomach sloshed with jealousy, unable to take her eyes off the woman running her hand up his broad chest. She wished that was her. 
“Have a nice night,” she told him, jogging towards the stairs before he could ask her anything else. Feyre’s heart pounded just on the other side of the door. He was drunk, she reasoned. He wouldn’t remember this in the morning. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was up to, though despite their shared walls, she didn’t hear a peep out of him. 
Whiskey dick was a real bitch, she told herself with more than a little glee. 
Feyre was certain she was in the clear the next morning. She had her sketch pad at the table, coffee steaming from a paint covered mug, when a knock on the front door sent fear skittering up her spine. Feyre turned towards the long hall, well aware of who would be waiting.
It was Rhysand, in a dark suit, and box of donuts in hand.
“I didn’t know I had a neighbor,” he said by way of greeting. “Six months?”
“I’m surprised you remember,” she said breathlessly. Watching him from her window was one thing. Standing just on the other side of the door frame, close enough to breathe in the salt and citrusy scent of his masculine cologne was wholly another. Rhysand was tall, looking down at her with open amusement.
“Can I come in?” he asked when it was clear she wasn’t going to invite him. 
Get it together.
“Yeah, sure,” she agreed, stepping aside. He practically ducked in, eyes sliding over her walls. They snagged on one of her paintings, squinting as though he recognized it. She wouldn’t be surprised. For a whole year, Ferye had advertised her pieces in various restaurants as a way to drum up interest. 
“Do you know what happened to the last woman who lived here?” he asked conversationally. Feyre led him to the kitchen, not bothering to think about what he might see when he stepped in.
“She passed away, I think,” Feyre replied. He nodded, gaze pinned to her closed sketchbook.
“She was nice. Used to bake.”
Did she watch him naked from the window, too? Feyre didn’t blame her if she had. Rhysand set the donut box on her little table, positioned perfectly to watch him on the deck.
“This was really nice,” she tried, unable to take her eyes off him. Rhysand went straight to the closed balcony doors, peering out into the morning light. Was he missing his usual routine? 
“It’s my pleasure,” he assured her, turning so suddenly she stumbled back a step. Hands braced on the counter, Feyre had to blink in order to really look at him. “Six months, huh?”
She nodded, swallowing hard.
“Never wanted to say hi? That’s not very neighborly.”
“I work late hours,” she told him breathlessly. His eyes flicked back out to the deck. “Out late? Up early?”
“Something like that.”
He nodded slowly. “And when do you sleep?”
The question was innocuous. Polite, even. Or, it would have been were it not for the predatory look in his eyes or the way he managed to make that question sound like a suggestion.
“I…” Feyre walked around the kitchen island, putting a healthy distance between them. “When I can.”
He nodded, glancing back at her sketchbook. Nodding towards it, he asked. “You draw? Can I see?”
She lunged, snatching it out of his hands before he could flip it open. He was so close to finding multiple drawings of his own cock. All but panting, Feyre said, “That’s private.”
“Oh, I’m sure it is,” he agreed. She wanted to die. Did he know? Had he guessed? Or was her guilt making her project? 
“Thank you for breakfast,” she told him, holding her sketchbook protectively to her chest. He smiled.
“Maybe you’ll return the favor once you get to know me. I’m Rhys.”
Rhys. 
“Feyre,” she breathed.
“Feyre,” he repeated. He spoke it like a prayer—like a lover's caress. “I look forward to getting to know you better, Feyre.”
And that was it. He left her with twelve really nice donuts and his lingering scent in her apartment. 
She convinced herself it was all in her head. Locked up in her studio, Feyre reassured herself that was just how he was. Flirty. He didn’t know shit. He was just nosy and too nice and she felt guilty that she watched him every morning.
Not so guilty she didn’t return that next morning. If he knew, she reasoned, he would stop. Any sane, rational person would. She was relieved to see him out there, sitting in one of the deck chairs with his legs wide open. It was a familiar pose…though the erect cock wasn’t. Neither was his gaze, pinned to her form. 
“Good morning,” he called, lifting his mug of coffee in the air. “Care to join?”
She couldn’t stop staring at his penis. She’d just assumed the flacid version was as big as he got, but filled with blood and pointed towards the sky, Rhys’s jutting dick pressed against his belly button easily. 
She didn’t move.
“I thought you might prefer drawing me if you were outside, too. Naked, even?”
She turned away to a cajoling, “Oh come on, Ferye, darling—”
Feyre spent the rest of the day hiding in bed, utterly mortified. 
He was more brazen the next morning. Still naked though not erect, Rhys knocked on her backdoor as she was thundering down the stairs for coffee and her sketchbook. She’d never closed the curtains, so Feyre was greeted with his gloriously muscular form and that wicked smile.
“I had a bad day yesterday,” he told her when she froze on the tile of the kitchen, eyes immediately fixated on his cock. “Ask me why.”
“Why?” she breathed, wondering if he could even hear through the glass.
“My pretty neighbor didn’t want to draw me,” he replied. Feyre exhaled a huff of breath. “Am I going to have another bad day today, Feyre?”
“You’re unhinged. Do you know that?”
He smiled. “C’mon. Sit outside and talk to me, at least.”
“Are you going to put on pants?”
He scoffed. “Absolutely not. This is my time, and in my time, I don’t wear pants. Why don’t you take off yours. Turnabout’s fair play, is it not?”
Feyre rubbed her eyes. “Do you want me to say sorry?”
“I want you to show me your sketchbook. Ideally while you sit in my lap,” came his quick reply. 
Jesus Christ. 
“You’ll really let me sketch you?” she asked, stepping a little closer. Rhys grinned, running a hand down his naked chest.
“I’ll let you do anything you like to me.”
She held his gaze. “Give me a second.”
Feyre scrambled back up the stairs for her set of charcoals and her sketchpad. She didn’t dare let herself think about what she was doing, instead running a brush through her tangled mass of golden blonde hair. She braided it quickly, tossing the tail over her shoulder before yanking on a slouchy sweatshirt and a pair of clingy leggings. The more layers, the better she reasoned.
Especially if she was going to sit across from her neighbor, who was so absurdly hot it made her knees shake.
Rhys was waiting in his chair, ankle crossed over his knee. He frowned when he saw her. “You’re wearing more clothes.” “I need them,” she informed him frankly. He uncrossed his legs just in time for her to press her thighs together. 
“I’ll bet you don’t.”
“Is this how you treated the last neighbor?” Feyre demanded, as if she had any leg to stand on given how many pages of his naked form she had to flip through in order to get to a blank page. 
“Mrs. Robinson would have loved an offer into my bed,” Rhys said with a suggestive wink. “Honor her memory, Feyre.”
“Have we graduated from nude drawings to…” God she couldn’t even say it.
“I wouldn’t say no,” he agreed, his words practically a purr. 
“You were bringing a woman home two nights ago,” she snapped, hating how jealous she sounded. Ferye couldn’t look at him as she began thumbing through her set of charcoal. “I’ll bet your sheets still smell like her.”
“You think I wouldn’t wash my sheets for you?”
Fuck him.
“I like drawing you,” she managed, heart pounding in her throat. “I’m sorry if I made it weird.”
“Draw me again,” he insisted, some of his teasing. “It’s not weird at all.”
Feyre wasn’t sure that was true, but for an hour that morning, Rhys sat utterly still and Feyre sketched without having to move so quickly, fearing he’d move or shift or leave. It was odd to show him in the aftermath and worse still when he yanked the sketchpad from her hands and flipped through it, wide-eyed.
“Are these all of me?” he asked her, turning one to the side so he could view it better.
“There are others that aren’t,” she mumbled, embarrassed. “You’ve been my muse since I moved in.”
He caught her wrist before she could escape back inside. “I’m happy to be your muse.”
Their eyes locked. “Sorry for watching you naked.”
He smiled. “Don’t be.”
Feyre spent the rest of her day all but floating. 
I’m happy to be your muse. 
She wanted to show him the oil painting she’d done—which, despite him not realizing he was even the subject, was still some of her finest work. She thought he might appreciate it, if only to make some lurid comment about having sex with her. 
Ferye was still in a good mood as she set up her classroom for painting with adults. People—usually couples—paid for a two hour art class during which they could also drink while they did it. Very rarely did Feyre get a painting that looked good when a bunch of novices added alcohol to the mix, but it was her bread and butter in terms of getting her rent paid. Feyre was looking forward to that night because she had an interesting prop—a large, gleaming sword. Set atop a faded purple pillow, and when the light overhead hit the metal, different colors shone over silver, depending on where that person sat. There was depth, there was the chance for nuance. She, herself, spent her prep time painting an example from where she sat, setting it on an easel behind her.
People started pouring in around seven fifty…including her fucking neighbor and the most beautiful blonde she’d ever seen in her entire life.
“Don’t be annoying,” the blonde said the moment she stepped inside. She was immaculate, dressed in a tight red dress that hugged her body and tall heels that made both her and Rhys nearly the same height. His cheeks were inflamed the moment those violet eyes landed on her. 
Oh fuck him.
“Sit down,” the blonde ordered, practically shoving him into the chair at the far end of the room. It wasn’t uncommon for women to drag unwilling partners…but usually it wasn’t because the teacher had drawn their cock just that morning. 
Any decent person would have left. Rhys, apparently, had no decency in him. He shrugged off his crisp black jacket and began rolling the salmon colored sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He looked stunning in gray slacks and a belt she might have been fantasizing about had he not brought a date to her class.
Feyre was forced to wait for the rest of the pairs to arrive. A giggly bachelorette group occupied the front row, clearly already drunk, which gave Feyre something to fixate on. 
“Hi!” she said, too brightly despite how firmly she was gripping a paint brush. “I’m Feyre–”
“Tell us about your credentials, Feyre,” the blonde interrupted. Her painted red lips curled with amusement. Rhys elbowed her hard in the ribs. “And your hobbies. What do you like to do for fun?”
“I’d like to know that, too, actually,” a man—who’d come in a larger group of couples, and was clearly their seventh wheel—added with hopeful eyes. “Are you single?”
Rhys started to stand, only to be yanked back in his chair by his date. 
“I can’t imagine how that’s appropriate,” Feyre replied smoothly. “Why don’t we pour a drink and then I’ll describe what we’re painting—”
“Looks like a sword,” that guy called again. “I can show you–”
“Shut the fuck up,” Rhys called darkly. “And let her talk.”
“Right.” Feyre swallowed hard. “The bar is at the far end of the room. Pour yourself a drink and grab a case of paint on your way back.”
Feyre leaned against the wall behind her, heart hammering in her chest. The rest of the room moved towards wine and other spirits—except for the blonde. She sashayed towards Feyre, tossing a long lock of her golden hair over her bare shoulders.
“I still want to know the answers to my questions,” she said, revealing two rows of perfectly straight, utterly white teeth. Fuck, she was so pretty. Not a drop of paint on her. Feyre’s chest tightened.
“I got a BA in fine art from Velaris U—”
“Good school,” the blonde murmured appraisingly. Brown eyes swept over her, framed by mascara coated lashes. She looked so well done, and Feyre couldn’t blame her. This was obviously Rhys’s type. 
“And your hobbies?”
Feyre blinked. “I paint.”
Her laugh was pretty. She chuckled, nodding. “I guess I walked right into that. Anything else?”
“Can I ask why you want to know?”
The woman stepped closer, clearly about to offer Feyre some secret but Rhys’s voice interrupted.
“Mor!” he barked. “Come get some fucking wine.”
Mor rolled her eyes, as if to say men, amirite? The whole thing was so utterly strange that Feyre had to walk back with the group to pour herself some wine, too. Mor was there, and when Feyre reached her, she murmured, “Red or white?”
“White.”
“Hm. I like red,” she said, though she handed Feyre a little plastic cup of white wine all the same. Mor turned again, to ask some other question, but the man who’d interrupted her was also waiting.
“Sorry about that guy's outburst,” he told her earnestly. “I wasn’t trying to be weird.”
“Sure,” Mor said on Feyre’s behalf smoothly. “What were you gonna say, anyway?”
His cheeks darkened. “I just think a sword is a cool prop. Can’t wait to show you what I do with it.”
“Oh, gross,” Mor whispered while Feyre smiled. 
“I can’t wait to see what you come up with,” Feyre said. This was still her job, and the last thing she needed was some man complaining because she couldn’t be friendly. It wasn’t the first time someone had hit on her.
It wouldn’t be the last. 
“Morrigan!” Rhys hissed, earning another eye-roll. 
“You could do better,” Mor whispered, “Than my terrible cousin.” 
Feyre choked on her breath of air. “Cousin?”
Mor merely laughed, walking back to Rhys who, to his credit, looked as if he wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. 
Cousin. He’d brought his cousin to her painting class? Why? Feyre couldn’t tease it out…but she could punish him for all the jealousy she felt when he’d first walked in. Mor was having a lovely time, despite being a terrible painter. She spent most of her time drinking and telling loud stories about Rhys as a child, which the group of bachelorettes loved.
Rhys didn’t. He kept elbowing Mor, his eyes darting to Feyre as if to say I’m so sorry.
And maybe he ought to be sorry. If only a little. Feyre walked around the room, surveying people’s work and offering help when they muddied their colors and drew something absurdly phallic—like the guy who asked if she was single. Feyre frowned when she saw it, leaning closer.
“What is this?”
“A sword,” he replied, holding his wine close to his lips. “Do you like it?”
“Seems misshapen,” she murmured. “Something you should see a physician about.”
His friends beside him choked with laughter, drawing a scowl from Rhys across the room.
“One of your talents?” he crooned, smoother than she’d prefer.
“Not likely.”
She sent everyone home with their terrible drawings, grateful to shut the door in their faces—including Rhys and his very lovely, very nice cousin. He’d tried to speak to her on the way out, his eyes all but pleading but Feyre lacked the emotional capacity to hear him out. 
As if it mattered. As she began cleaning up the stations, Feyre found Mor had left her a little note on the clean piece of paper beneath her own painting.
Rhys has a crush on you. You should ask him out.
Feyre stared at it for a long time. Long enough the shop next door went dark and she had to walk to the parking lot herself. She took that piece of paper with her, folded up in her pocket as she drove home.
Rhys has a crush on you.
Rhys has a crush on you.
Rhys should think she was a pervert, she thought wryly. Had he told his cousin about her? And—oh God, what had he said? 
He was waiting on the front steps when she pulled up, parking in their shared driveway just beside his own nicer, shinier car. He pulled open her door before she could cut the ignition.
“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, the scent of his cologne overwhelming her senses. Even under the harsh porch lights, Rhys was too handsome to stay mad at. And she wasn’t even mad.
Just embarrassed. 
“I told Mor I liked you,” he rushed out, his cheeks flaming red. “And she suggested we catch up and talk. I didn’t…I didn’t think she was insane enough to look you up.”
“She seemed nice,” Feyre offered mildly, walking towards her front door. It was so odd to see Rhys stumbling over his words. Where had his smoothness gone? 
“She’s a menace,” he retorted. “I ah…”
Ferye turned to look at him. 
“Can I show you something?” he asked, hand on his own door. “Pants on, I swear.”
“Is this the part where you chain me up in your basement?” she teased, following just behind. She was curious about his place, if nothing else. 
“The only chains I keep are on my bed—no don’t go, that was a joke—”
Feyre crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t make this weird.”
Rhys only sighed, gesturing for her to come in. 
Their set-up was exactly the same. Dark wood floors and crown molding. The same layout, the same ivory colored walls. He’d done a much nicer job decorating than her, which included several really lovely pieces of art on his wall.
“Up here,” he said, hand gliding over a mahogany wood rail as he led her up. Feyre’s heart pounded, well aware Rhys was taking her to his bedroom. To see the chains? A big part of her almost hoped so. She was so busy thinking about what he could do to her and how much she’d like it, that Feyre didn’t register what he was showing her when he pushed open his bedroom door.
She only saw the bed, draped in black with a pretty white throw tossed over the bottom edge. Rhys cleared his throat, as if he realized what she was looking at—his headboard, free of any restraint at all. 
On the unbroken wall the two of them shared, was a painting that was all-too familiar to Feyre. Framed in silver lovingly, it was her work. 
Feyre whirled to look at him. “You?”
He swallowed hard. “I keep it there so it’s the first thing I see in the morning,” he admitted. “It makes me feel…” he paused, hand pressed to his chest. 
“You paid too much for it,” she whispered. “It’s how I bought my place next door.”
His eyes lit up. “It's my fault you’re my neighbor.”
“In a way,” she agreed with a laugh she didn’t quite mean. 
“Lucky me,” he murmured, taking a step towards her. Ferye needed to get out before she did something stupid. Something wholly foolish, like fucking her neighbor as a thank you for buying my artwork. 
“I uh…” she cleared her throat. “It's been a long day.”
“Have breakfast on the deck with me tomorrow,” he told her, his hands clenched to fists at his sides. 
“Pants on?”
He shook his head. “No pants, Feyre.”
She took a breath. “We’ll see.”
Feyre fled on trembling legs, not daring to take a breath until she was in her own bedroom, back pressed to the wall her painting hung on. She could hear him moving faintly on the other side, though whatever he did wasn’t clear to her. Not immediately, anyway.
Not until Feyre slipped into her own bed naked, hand snaking between her legs. In the dark, every little noise her neighbor made was magnified. 
He grunted. It was such an obscenely sexual noise that Feyre whimpered in response. Silence settled between them, and then Rhys’s voice called through the wall. “Can you hear me, darling?”
Don’t respond, don’t respond, don’t respond— “Yes.”
He exhaled a loud, almost needy sounding breath. “Why don’t you go in the kitchen and see what you do to me?”
“I’m not wearing any clothes,” she told him, speaking louder than she wanted to so he would hear her.
“Fucking kill me,” he groaned softly. “Go downstairs, Feyre.”
Maybe it was her lust that drew her upwards. Or maybe it was knowing that Rhys had liked her before he’d ever even met her. Maybe he was just hot and it had been a year since she’d been the object of anyones sexual desires. Whatever it was, Feyre wrapped a blanket around her body and padded down the steps, calling, “I’m going,” before slamming her door loudly, just in case he hadn’t heard.
He must have run. Rhys was outside, chest heaving, by the time Feyre pulled back the blinds on the sliding door. He was utterly naked, illuminated by the light he’d flipped on and his massive cock was all but twitching in his hand. He was watching her with an intensity that made her whole body ache. 
“Take off the blanket,” he ordered, walking to her door to open it. Feyre was grateful she’d locked it. Rhys could tug all he liked. She wasn’t letting him in. 
Not tonight.
She did drop the blanket though, scooting forward in the chair so her toes were pressed to the glass. Legs spread open so he could really look at her. Rhys pressed his broad hand against the glass, resting his forehead against the door.
“Feyre,” he practically begged. “Open the door.”
“I don’t think I will,” she whispered, running her hands up and down her thighs. “That wasn’t the deal.”
“Feyre—”
“Show me what I do to you, Rhys.”
His free hand was still wrapped around his cock. When he stroked, Feyre couldn’t stop the soft whine that escaped her lips. He was exquisite and watching him pleasure himself while staring at her spread open pussy was so erotic Feyre could scarcely breathe.
“Touch yourself,” he rasped. “Show me how you like to be touched.”
“Thinking about touching me?” she tried to tease, though her fingers brushed her swollen clit all the same.
Rhy’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “Open the door, Ferye. Let me show you.”
She was tempted. So tempted her arm jerked without her consent, her body desperate to know what it would feel like to have his big, broad hands on her. 
Feyre dipped two fingers into her body, her stomach flipping when Rhys practically whined at the sight. Coating herself in her slick arousal, she trailed upwards, leaving a glistening path over her stomach as she toyed with her breasts. 
Rhys looked like he was seconds from falling to his knees, to begging and pleading to be let in. 
“Tell me what you would do,” Feyre ordered, bolder than she’d ever been in her life.
Rhys’s lips parted as her hand left her nipple, sliding back to rub indolent circles over her clit. 
“Feyre.” His voice was the softest plea, his breath fogging the glass. “Let me taste you.”
She arched her neck. “You talk a big game.”
“Let me show you,” he ordered roughly, pulling the door handle again. Stupid, she was so stupid. 
She leaned forward, fingers still sticky, and flipped the latch. Rhys pounced, pulling the door open so hard it bounced on the hinges. He didn’t care, not when cool air poured into her kitchen and certainly not if he broke the thing. 
He took four steps, hitting his knees so hard she could hear his bones groan in protest. Hands gripped her hips, yanking her forward until she had to drape her legs over his shoulders. He didn’t ask, didn’t say a gloating word. Feyre wasn’t certain he had any speech available to him at that moment. 
Feyre squealed when his tongue slid up the length of her. He hadn’t been lying on the deck. Rhys only adjusted his hold, pulling her to the edge of the chair until she was practically sitting on his face.
“Fucking hell, Feyre,” he moaned, the sound muffled as he sucked her clit between his lips. 
Oh God, she thought. He was so obscenely good with his tongue it ought to be a crime. Feyre gripped the edge of her chair, the only thing keeping herself from sliding into a puddle of wet nothing. 
Feyre had to press the balls of her feet against his naked back to keep from flying upwards. Rhys didn’t offer tentative licks or act like her last boyfriend every time he’d been between her legs. No hesitance—Rhys kissed, practically swallowing her with an urgency that made her whole body ignite with pleasure. 
Rhys ate pussy like he was hungry. It wasn’t pretty or elegant—he was messy. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, watching how his jaw worked, how his eyes held her gaze. Gauging, she realized, to see if she was enjoying herself. It took Feyre a moment to let go, to realize he wasn’t doing this just long enough to get her wet before he pushed himself into her. 
He was eating pussy because he liked it. 
Feyre carded her fingers through his dark, silken hair. “Rhys,” she panted, digging her heels into his back until there was no way Rhys was breathing. If he cared, he didn’t say. Hands kneaded at her thighs, her ass, anything he could put them on to heighten her already hot pleasure. It was a crime that a man as hot as him was as good with his mouth as he was. How did anyone stand losing him? 
“Rhys,” she breathed again, wondering if their neighbors could hear how loud he moaned into her. He’d figured her out too quickly—fucking her with his tongue until she was all but riding against his face, before dragging upwards to circle and suck at her clit. She felt wild, utterly out of control. Feyre pulled at his hair, all but ripping it from his scalp. It only made him moan louder.
“Rhys!” she pleaded a mere moment before she detonated around him. Her legs shook, clamping against his ears. Rhys pulled her closer still, tasting her release with hungry abandon. She had to push him off her to get him to stop.
Rhys yanked her to the floor, pulling her into his lap for a wet, messy kiss that tasted like her arousal. She was practically dripping wet, could feel the sticky slickness coating her thighs. Feyre clung to his powerful shoulders, sliding her tongue over his until they were both grinding on the floor, overcome with near feral desire. 
Rhys was the one who lifted her in the air like she was feather light, breaking the kiss long enough to keep them both from toppling back to the unforgiving tile. He walked her out into the late evening chill and set her atop the smooth rail of the deck. 
“Tell me,” he began, nipping kisses over her collarbone. “Is this what you imagined when you watched me?”
She didn’t answer at first—he sucked her nipple into his mouth, reigniting her arousal all over again. She could practically feel his tongue back on her clit. She wouldn’t have stopped him if he’d gotten back on his knees. Feyre slid her hands down his chest, halting when she felt the wet tip of his cock brush the back of her hand. 
Rhys moaned against her skin as she gripped him, pumping the thickness of him in a hand that hardly felt big enough to hold him. 
“Is it?”
Oh God, she’d forgotten he’d been speaking.
“No,” she whispered. “I just thought you were beautiful.”
The hungry look on his face softened for a moment. “You’re so lovely,” he whispered, teeth against her neck. “I’m going to fuck you, Feyre, and afterwards I’m going to take you to my bed and show you just how lovely you are.” She was still pumping his cock, her thumb slicking through the precum practically weeping from the tip. How did he seem so controlled? Feyre was losing herself entirely.
Rhys replaced her hand with his, pressing closer until he was notched against her. Feyre waited for him to thrust in and when he didn’t, too busy teasing her with his wicked mouth, she wrapped her legs around his waist, dug her heels and his ass, and pushed him into her body.
“Fuck,” he cried, loud enough to disturb nearby crickets singing sweetly in the grass. Speech eluded Ferye entirely as she adjusted to the fullness of holding him. It was almost like her first time—the stretch was a pleasant sort of pain. 
One hand on her hip, the other around her neck, Rhys began driving into her. The slap of their skin meeting was louder than the singing crickets and the street traffic just outside. Feyre didn’t care. She hoped someone looked out their window and saw what he was doing to her. 
Rhys’s hand was big enough to span the entirety of her neck, his fingertips pressing just enough to leave her breathless. 
Rhys dipped his head, licking just behind her ear. “You should have told me you were watching,” he whispered, teeth sinking against her lobe. He tugged and Feyre moaned, tightening around him. “I would have fucked you months ago.”
She dug her nails into his shoulders, pushing her feet until he was practically pounding with bruising force into her body. She’d never been more turned on in her life. The air kissed against her overheated skin, stimulating her just as surely as his hands and cock was. He was dragging her up back up in a way no one had ever managed before. The precise roll of his hips, the way he paid such careful attention to each little whine and whimper all added to the exquisite drag of his cock. He knew what he was doing.
“Rhys—” he covered her mouth with his own, swallowing her scream greedily as her pussy clamped tightly around him, drawing him deeper and practically holding him still. Feyre was wrecked, could barely breathe as a second orgasm ripped its way through her.
Rhys was all but rutting into her, whimpering with need. He was going to come—Feyre could practically feel the way his heart throbbed. His careful rhythm faltered, hips pushing and pushing until he dropped his hand around her throat to bite against her shoulder. His own release was dizzyingly erotic, only adding to her pleasure.
“Up,” he whispered, kissing her neck as he lifted her back up against him. He was forced to withdraw so he could walk. She whined in protest.
“I’m not done with you,” he informed her, walking her back through his place. Rhys dropped her on his bed where she could see that painting hanging on his wall. Proof, perhaps, that they’d been meant to find each other.
Rhys crawled up her body. “I’ll never be done with you.”
Feyre thought she wouldn’t be either.
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goodgirlofglory · 2 years
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In the balance - Chapter 4: Put
Chapter 3 - Chapter 5
/Masterpost/
Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader
Word count: 3,1k
Warnings: non-con, dub-con, depression, angst, anxiety attacks, panic attacks, smut, non-con smut, vaginal sex, lack of hygiene, starvation due to depressive hungerstrike.
Summary: As it dawns on you how trapped you are, you take poorly to the captivity.
Note: Allright you guys, this is officially a series. It will be 10 chapters AT LEAST!! Seeing I really got myself into it with the set-up of the first three parts, I have no idead how often I will update this. Last time I wrote a series, I had finished virtually every part before I even posted the prologue, so this is also the first time I’m writing and posting parts simultaneously. A masterlist will be made momentraily and all parts updated with it!! I’m excited!!!
Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you to not interact if the contents of the warnings trigger you. Minors DNI! 
My work is not to be distributed outside this blog. 
Likes, replies and reblogs are amaaaazing💞💞
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You slept as if you were dead that first night, the shock to your system knocking you out cold as soon as Steve left the room. 
You woke up alert, instantly remembering everything about where you were and how you got there. In the early morning sun, the room shone in a warm light, every piece of furniture and fabric looking soft, inviting - like something out of a magazine. 
A surge of panic had you moving up and out of bed. You found your discarded clothes on the floor and hastily put them on, noticing you had nothing else on you - neither your phone, wallet or keys were in sight. 
Didn't matter, you just needed to get out. This wasn't happening.
You made your way into the hallway and followed it down past several sets of double doors, side tables with beautiful flower decorations and little else. Your feet made no sound on the plush, mauve carpet. In fact, the house was completely void of sound. The grand staircase looked even more impressive in daylight. The ceiling had stained glass that painted the white walls in a flourish of coloured light, and the marble of the staircase felt cool under your bare feet. It was all obscenely grand, like a home belonging to someone who didn’t know who they were and had too much wealth to know what to do with. For all his mystery, you would never have imagined Steve living in a place like this. It kept dawning on you how frightfully little you knew him. 
Steve had taken your shoes, maybe even as early as when he’d strapped you into the jet - or maybe you lost them running in the woods? You didn’t even remember, your mind growing hazy with the urge to get outside - to just get away.
The double-door entrance was locked when you went to slowly pry it open, and you noticed the second lock needed a key - a key that was nowhere in sight. Okay, next door, a window, anything. You moved silently through the entrance hall and into the living room, remembering how you’d come in through a back porch door the night before. You found it easily enough retracing your steps, but this was also locked with a lock that needed a key from the inside. You contemplated throwing something to break one of the huge, floor length windows in the living room, but that could make too much sound. You didn’t know if Steve was in the house or not. Outside, you saw the garden, the landing patch with the jet still on it, and around, a lawn large enough it could be more aptly described as a field, and behind it, thick forest. No buildings, no city, nothing. You had no idea where this mansion was or what surrounded it. But anything would be better than staying here. 
You took a new path out of the living room, peering around corners into an office, a large bathroom, a huge library with stuffed bookshelves in dark wood, big, old chairs that looked like they would swallow you whole and lastly, a kitchen. And across from the large kitchen island there was another set of porch doors - wide open, the light drapes blowing softly in the breeze coming from outside. Your feet carried you towards it on instinct, stepping into the spacious kitchen. 
“Good morning,” came Steve’s familiar voice, jolting you. Glancing to your left, you saw him, casually reclined in a chair by the dining table to the right. Great, he was waiting for you, the open doors bait. 
You didn’t even halt as you marched for the door, instantly relieved as you cleared it, feeling the direct heat of the sun on your face as your bare feet touched the small porch outside, and then - deliciosuly soft and cool grass. Ahead was another mile of neatly mowed lawn and the treeline in the distance. 
Steve’s booming steps sounded on the porch behind you. 
“Sweetie, come back. There’s nothing but forest that way, and a very high fence you can’t climb” Steve called behind you, somewhere between amusement and exasperation. 
Your heart pounded painfully in your chest. Was it true? Were you so remote? Recalling the night before, you figured any attempt to outrun him would be pointless. And a fence, enclosure all the way around, no doubt with a locked gate, if there even was a road leading in and out of this place. For all you knew, the only way in was via fucking jet plane. The pit in your chest threatened to swallow you whole, and you gulped in a fortifying breath. You wouldn’t give up yet. 
Turning on your heel, you marched back up to Steve, shoeless feet not exactly intimidating in the soft grass. Reaching him, you craned your neck to stare him down. You reached your hand out. 
“My car keys,” you stated, your voice surprisingly even. 
Maybe if you just showed Steve that you were not going to play along on this, he would return to his senses and let you go home. It wasn't too late to just go back to the way things were. Surely you would have a, if marginal, say in this. 
Steve cocked his head at you before turning on his heel and walking back to the house. 
“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” he said, not even looking back as he slipped into the kitchen. 
You briefly considered continuing across the lawn and into the trees, but ended up following Steve back inside the house. He’d returned to his previous seat, sipping a coffee cup. You stepped up to him, careful to keep a foot of distance between you. It was never a good idea to let Steve get too close. 
“I need my car keys. I need to go to work,” you said simply. In any sane world it should be more than enough. But your stomach was turning, glooming doubt trickling along every nerve in your body. 
“That won’t be necessary. I’ve already turned in your resignation, and your car is on its way to a landfill,” Steve said, looking up at you with a calm demeanor, no doubt thinking he was reassuring. 
The world threatened to spin as you processed that. 
What?
“You can…you can’t do that!,” you protested. “You have no right to do that! That's my income, my livelihood!,” you said, voice coming out trembling, your throat feeling tighter. 
“You don't need it anymore. Besides, a woman in your condition shouldn’t slave away -”
“B-but, how am I going to pay for my apartment?” you interrupted, mind scrambling to get a grip on your thoughts. Your heart was pounding painfully again.
Steve reached out a hand to grasp yours, too hot as it enveloped your hand completely. 
“Sweetie, I thought we agreed on this last night. You’ll live here now. I’ve already terminated your lease. I can’t believe how much your landlord charged for that cupboard. It was practically a scam,” Steve said, and his tone was so reprimanding, it made you feel chastined, humiliated, like a child. 
You liked your apartment, your landlord was a nice, old man - the closest thing you’d had to a friend. Sure it was a bit costly, but it was yours. Your safe place, your sanctuary…
"No, p-please," you whimpered, a sob lodged in your throat, your mind quickly collapsing on itself, anguish spreading like a puddle in your chest. "Please, don't do this," you besieged.
His hand squeezed yours as it felt like you were sinking into yourself. Bile rose high in your throat.
“It's already done," Steve answered calmly, his words like boulders pulling you down into dark gloom. "I told you, honey, not to worry about a thing. You won’t ever need to go back to that sad, dreary life you had. I’ve taken care of everything. Now, breakfast,” he ended triumphantly. 
You wrenched your hand out of his. Body hunching forward, you hurled. 
§
You hadn’t showered in days, hair greasy, smelling faintly of sweat and grime. You hadn’t eaten either. Anything you dained to eat didn’t stay down either way. The god awful nausea had settled deep in your gut, making every movement slow and strained. Steve hadn’t gone so far as to force feed you. Yet, that was. 
You'd gone completely off the rails after that first fit of vomiting. The details were fuzzy, but you'd started by wrenching Steve’s cup out of his hands before hurling it to crack into a million pieces against the wall. Then you'd upended the table before Steve got you locked in his arms. He had dragged you back to your room while you screamed your voice hoarse, your feet kicking out against anything in your path, a brief moment of sweet, petty vindication surging as you knocked a vase over in the entrance hall and he groaned in responding frustration, filling the room with a cracking sound as it split open on the marble. You’d never heard sounds like that before, let alone from your own body. 
Steve carried you up, not even breaking a sweat against your struggle, laying you on the bed and pinning you there until you ceased your thrashing, your howls shrinking to groans. 
"I know this is challenging, darling. You'll stay here till you reach your senses again, til you become my sweet, good girl again," he said, so easily dismissing you fighting for your life.
As soon as he locked the doors behind him, you bolted from the bed and started throwing things, destroying everything you saw, knocking over furniture, tearing clothes, breaking vases, animalistic sounds ripping out of your mouth. You would be embarrassed if desperate, white hot, crawling panic wasn’t exploding through every atom of your body, seeking vengeance and rescue all at once. You hated him, hated, hated, hated him.
You only stopped when the vertigo hit you, sparks of light dancing before your eyes and your feet giving out under you.
Steve wasn’t pleased by your behavior, but for once he was so uncharacteristically non-invasive in the days that followed. He moved you to another room when you blacked out from distress, and by that point you didn’t have enough energy to throw things. It doesn’t matter anyway, the hopelessness in your chest whispered to you. The biggest fight you could muster was only a spot of inconvenience and a renovation cost for Steve. 
The mansion closed like a tomb around you.
He prepared meals for you, but didn’t go further than implore you to eat them. There were soft towels and deliciously smelling shower products from the most high end lines in the bathroom, but he didn’t force you into the shower. He didn’t touch you at all. And you ended up thinking of your lack of hygiene as a form of armor. A form of buffer that held his touch away, let you simmer in your rage - and filth - alone. 
You slept, vomited, went to the bathroom, slept, cried, ate a little, vomited, slept - all the while simmering with rage and self-pity.
Steve went away to work on your sixteenth day of no shower and limited food intake. He lingered by the bed, brows drawn down in concern as he took in your lethargic form nestled in the messy bed sheets of your room. You still wore the clothes you’d come in, having refused all of the soft, silken and plush clothes that hung in the closet, creamy and light pastel color, all in your exact size. It repulsed you, how he had so clearly pictured you barefoot and soft, mellow and compliant as you leisured around the house without any protest. 
“I’ll be back in a few days. Please eat and drink something, take care of yourself. If not for you, then for the baby” he implored silently, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of your duvé. You wanted to swat his hand away. 
The baby. You had completely forgotten about that. Didn’t matter though, maybe you’d lose it if you starved for long enough, and then Steve would cast you out. No, he’d promised to keep you forever in that case. Maybe you would die before that time. 
You were tired, so tired, and if you didn’t move a muscle, the nausea was manageable. You’d already hurled several times that morning, heaving until spots appeared before your eyes, nothing but bitter stomach acid coming up and into the bucket by the bed. 
He went away, and you stayed in bed until darkness settled outside the window. Groggily, you got up to use the toilet, your piss a dark brown as you took in the poor state of your dehydrated and famished body. Wilting so fast in your captivity. 
But with Steve gone, you could breathe. And you slowly made your way down to the kitchen, finding a meal of cold pot roast with vegetables in the fridge, managing to get about three bites down before your stomach threatened to knock you out. You drank a glass of cold water, soothing as you felt it go down. Outside, the whole world was in darkness. Shouldn’t you be finding a way to escape? 
Maybe, but right now all you could think about was returning to bed, to obliterating, dreamless unconsciousness. Returning to your room, you glanced inside the luxurious bathroom en suite. It had a large tub, star spots in the dark blue ceiling, a tropical shower head in the spacious shower stall and shelf upon shelf of luscious oils and lotions, hair products and soaps that smelled like something out of a five star spa. 
You pressed your nose into a simple bar of lavender soap, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasant and clean scent soothed you. You looked at the shower stall for a while, contemplating. If you dressed in the same clothes and got into the same sheets, maybe Steve wouldn’t notice you’d used the facilities you swore you’d forever refuse. 
Maybe Steve would die while on the job…
You undressed slowly, nearly falling as you struggled to take your hoodie off, the hassle making you dizzy. 
How had you ended up here? What had you been thinking, all those months with his visits? That it would forever stay like that? Why hadn’t you run away sooner, disappeared. How stupid you’d been, just staying put like sitting duck, just waiting for him to do this. To steal you away to be kept like livestock, locked away, your previous life, your home, job, things - everything you’d worked so hard to obtain - taken away and obliterated, like dust on a shelf. Bitter tears stung your cheeks for what felt like the millionth time. 
You’d worked so hard for that job, even harder for the apartment. You’d slaved away all your life, with no connections, no inheritance from your dead relatives, practically no skills or talents. Working your way up to full time at the yarn store was the achievement of your life, the stepping stone to an honest, hard working life. And now it was just gone, thrown away by Steve like trash. 
The shower was heaven. The warm water battered your aching muscles, loosening your stiffened joints. Your plan of rewearing your old clothes was swiftly disregarded as the new scent of lavender permeated your floating, sated state. You trudged out of the bathroom half asleep before dumping into the messy bed, already slipping into unconsciousness. 
§
You awoke to the sensation of warmth along your back. You lay on your side, your cover thrown off somewhere, the night air chilly on your naked skin. Something tickled your neck, pulling your hair away. You murmured, your lips not quite moving yet as you trudged the edge of sleep. Your neck tingled again, and then something distinctly hard against your asscheek tore you from your slumbering state. 
You jolted forward before being promptly tugged back by a large arm around your middle. A frustrated whimper escaped you as you wiggled against your restraints. 
Steve hushed you quietly, his breath tickling your ear, his lips touching just under it. He inhaled deeply before letting out a pleased sigh ending on a soft groan. 
“You smell so good tonight, I hardly believed my luck finding you like this, naked and clean and ready,” he murmured into your skin, making goosebumps rise along your arms and back.  
“You were supposed to be gone,” you said through gritted teeth, hands fisting in the sheets in rage. 
He didn’t answer, only continued to kiss your neck, slowly unwinding his arm from around your middle, gauging your reaction all the while. You didn’t move until you felt him prod along your asscrack with his cock, leaking tip smearing your skin. That’s when you tried to bolt again, only to end up rolled onto your stomach, Steve’s hand pressing you down into the mattress as he straddled the back of your thighs. 
“I’ve been patient, tried to wait. But you’re just too much for me, honey,” he said as he used his hand to prod his cock between your cheeks again, searching for your entrance. “Do you feel what you do to me? The hold you have over me?” he asked, finding your hole. 
Hold? You would have laughed if tears weren’t strangling you, your whimpers muffled by the sheets underneath you. What a pathetically ironic thing to say… 
He pulled back and spat crudely at your hole before unceremoniously pushing inside, making your flesh yield to him. You cried out at the sudden pain before your breath hitched in your throat. Your stomach recoiled. 
Steve groaned above you, his hand moving from his cock to hold your cheeks open as he started to rock back and forth in a filthy grind inside you. 
“God, I’ve missed you, you feel so fucking good,” he grunted out, and your muscles slowly seized up, stiffening against your will. You slapped a hand back on his thigh as the pain persisted with his grinding thrusts. 
“H-hurts,” you stuttered out between small gulps of air. 
“It’s okay, sweetie, it’ll feel good in a moment. Be good for me now,” he said, not an ounce of sympathy in his tone, too far gone in his own pleasure. 
On your next exhale, it felt like you left your own body. Just went away, floated up to the ceiling, looking onto the scene like a passive bystander. You grew limp, your muscles loosening to a puddle of limbs. You weren’t there, this wasn’t real. None of it was. Steve wasn’t there, doing this, and if he was, it wasn’t you he did it to. 
Steve bent down to lave at your neck, his mouth moving up to yours. You stayed limp underneath him, rhythmically rocked on the bed by Steve’s steady thrusts. He tried to kiss your mouth, but you stayed unmoving, and you could feel him grow frustrated at your lack of response. 
Good, he might as well be fucking a corpse, you thought as he pried his tongue into your mouth, only managing to lick over your teeth slightly. 
You don’t know how much time passed, but when Steve’s hips stuttered and he moaned his release quietly, you exhaled in relief, just longing to go back to sleep. But before you could drift off, you curled over the edge of the bed and gagged, nothing but choked air coming up.
This was what your life had amounted to. This pitiful existence at the hands of this man. 
§
Note: Our girl’s not doing so great, unfortunately. I’m dying to know what you think of this developement!!
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gold3nlupin · 2 years
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honey ~ remus x reader
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hi everyone! this is my first ever fic attempt!
short remus x reader fluff!
quick summary: you and remus are out of hogwarts and living together. you wake up to find him cooking breakfast and end up dancing with him in the kitchen. :’) 
word count: ~850
~~~~
You opened your eyes only to find yourself blinded by the bright ray of sun shining in from the window. Your skin and bed felt warm from the bath of light. You stretched your arm across the bed only to find that it was empty, realizing then the smell of something sweet wafting in from the kitchen.
Remus must have gotten up to make breakfast. You smiled to yourself. You loved his early-bird tendencies. Remus always seemed to go to sleep after you and get up earlier than you; his mind was always on. That’s just how he was.
You kicked the covers off of yourself and lowered your feet onto the warm floor. As you made your way into the kitchen, the sounds of a sizzling pan and a soft melody from the radio began to fill your ears. You reached the doorway and leaned against the wood to watch him in his element. There he was cooking the most divine smelling pancakes and humming along to whatever song was playing. You grinned as you watched him dance ever so slightly by himself, spatula in hand and upper body exposed, scars and all. As he continued to hum along, you crept up behind him, wrapping your arms slowly around his torso and holding him as he let out a soft laugh of surprise.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” he said as he leaned into your embrace. You smiled against his back.
“Mornin’. It smells delicious,” you said, though your voice had not fully woken up yet. You let go of him and watched him flip a perfect looking pancake. And—of course—it was full of gooey chocolate chips, a Remus Lupin staple. 
“There’s coffee in the pot,” he remarked, motioning to the corner of the counter where the other wonderful smell was coming from. You made your way to the steaming pot, pouring some into a mug and letting it warm your hands as you sipped. You turned to look at Remus again, noticing the way that the morning sunlight shined on him as he cooked. His tossed hair looked like golden brown honey, and his skin seemed to glow. He was so beautiful, you thought, but so oblivious to it.
He caught your eye and smiled, then flipped another pancake.
You made your way to the small kitchen table with your mug and looked out the window, watching the birds frolic in the bird bath outside and the wind softly blowing the tree branches. You found yourself thinking about Hogwarts, when you used to sit outside by a tree near the lake with everyone; Sirius, James, Lily. . . you all used to have so much fun there, watching the birds, laughing, being kids. It was under that tree that you and Remus had had your first kiss. You thought how far you’d come since then, how much you missed it, missed everyone, though this was somewhat ironic since you all had dinner together once a week, at least. It was just difficult to not feel nostalgic for your Hogwarts days, the days where you saw your friends all the time. But then again, you still saw Remus every day.
You were snapped out of your train of thought by Remus placing two plates of warm chocolate chip pancakes on the table and taking a seat across from you. “Dig in my love.”
You grinned and did exactly that. You practically moaned at how good they were, which made him laugh. “Wow,” you said with a mouth full of pancake.
The radio suddenly began playing a song that you recognized; some 60s French pop song that you couldn’t exactly put your finger on.
Tous les garçons et les filles de mon âge Se promènent dans la rue deux par deux. Tous les garçons et les filles de mon âge Savent bien ce que c'est d'être heureux. . .
“I love this song!” you told him.
He stood up from his seat, stepped towards the other side of the table, and offered his hand to you as if asking for a dance. You laughed and took his hand, standing up from your own seat. You both moved to the center of the kitchen as he took you waist with his other hand, dancing along to the upbeat song, swaying back and forth together, laughing. You looked at his smiling face and into his beautiful brown squinted eyes. Oh, how you loved him, and oh, how he loved you. It was everything you had ever dreamed of. 
He leaned in towards you and kissed you, cupping you face with the hand that had been holding yours as you both stood in the sunlight coming in from the window. You touched his warm chest.
You suddenly yelped and laughed as he quickly scooped you up off of the ground. He began to carry you back into the bedroom and lowered you onto the cozy bed, kissing you gently.
“Wait,” you interrupted, pulling away from his embrace, “I need to finish my pancakes!” you yelled playfully at him.
“The pancakes can wait y/n,” he reassured with a smile as he once again began kissing you in the warm morning aroma.
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dansnaturepictures · 1 year
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04/04/2023-Lakeside and home 
Photos taken today in set are of: 1. Beautiful Herring Gulls out the front this morning it’s been a good few days for gulls and for a different variety of birds seen on roofs out the back. 2. Hoverfly, possible marmalade hoverfly on one of many stunning speedwell flowers found on grass near Lakeside, captivating to see. 3. Bluebells at Lakeside. 4. My first Speckled Wood butterfly of the year at Lakeside, I was so thrilled to see this and my first Peacock of the year, it was so good to use this patch of sunny weather to continue to get my butterfly season underway. I was amazed to see this Speckled Wood flitting around, for possibly the first time for this species it’s my first butterfly pictures of the year. Such refreshing and exciting moments. 5. Snake’s-head fritillaries in a different area near where I saw the Speckled Wood with them spreading out at Lakeside now including a different spot in the southern fenced off area seen later on too, delicious and eycatching sights. 6-10. Views at Lakeside on another cracking sunny day, the blue and the green in the landscape looking exquisite which was so addictive to take in. 
In what felt like a pivotal spring day with a few goals achieved I was also delighted to hear loudly their elegant song and cherish seeing at least one silver male Blackcap. A bird I was hoping to see soon, one so synonymous of vibrant early spring days, it was such a pleasure to see. A second Lakeside year tick in a row on my year list I have got a notable amount outside of the very start of the year this year. I also got smashing views of Great Crested Grebe, Greylag Geese, Lesser Black-backed Gull, Green Woodpecker, Great Tit, Blue Tit and Wren. It was so good to see Brimstone butterflies again, such colourful delights, with hyacinth, cowslips shining so well in the sunshine, white and purple violet and nice lesser celandine to make the most of other key flowers at Lakeside. Three other big from home moments today were admiring the gorgeous tulips on the balcony in the sun, seeing and hearing Carrion Crows a lot a nice soundtrack of the day, and brilliant Buzzard encounters. Seeing Buzzard mobbed by a Herring Gull was interesting, and I got a sensational view of a Buzzard as it flew closer over the window than I’ve ever seen before really making out its magnitude and majesty. 
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stormweather99 · 1 year
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Chapter one I can't believe my mom and my step dad are going to miss my 10th birthday just for a dumb honeymoon to South America for two weeks. So, I have to stay at my aunt Kacy's house. But at least her house is surrounded by wood, which means no loud noise or bad smells and no city stuff!
As I close my note book and left the words I wrote, looking out the car window I saw nothing but the country side and I can't help but smile."Hey Sara," I look over at my mom.
"Yea?"  "We'll be at aunt Kacy's house in about an hour so make sure you have all your stuff,"
"I already know I have everything ok." I said trying to stay civil. I went back to staring mindlessly out of the window, losing myself in the beautiful landscape as it shifted from bleak plain to deep words. I saw streams of running water and some deer drinking out of it.
When we arrived the sun was falling down into the horizon. I stumbled out of the car, my legs locked up from the ride. I lifted the trunk door up and heaved my duffle bag out of it. Then Kacy came rushing out of the house a glowing smile on her face, "Hey you three! There you are! What happened? You guys are a bit late,"
"We got a little lost on the way here," My mum said.
"Ah, it happens. Right, Sara your room is up the stairs and is the last door on the right, get up there and get comfy, okay?"
"Sure thing." I moved past her, struggling to carry my bag inside. Kacy shut the screen door behind me, I didn't pay it much attention. I bounded up the steps and walked to my room, *last door on the right, last door on the right...ah here it is*
When I enter my room I was taken aback. It was coated in a beautiful emerald green, and in the centre of the wall opposite was a large window. In the far right corner of the room there was a queen size bed, on the left side there was a small closet and a desk sitting in front of the window giving a great view into the woods. The room was spacious, I felt lost inside of it, "Wow," I said aloud. "This is bigger than my room at home." As I went to put my stuff away I heard my mother's car rumble to life and then I heard them drive away and the screen door opened and then it shut with that loud creek. With pain in my heart and sadness in my throat I sighed, *they didn't even say goodbye* I then heard Kacy calling me. I stood up and went off into the hallway and then jogged down the stairs, "Yeah?"
"Are you hungry?"
My stomach growled, I guess I was hungry. I hopped up on one of the wooden stools aligned against the counter, "Yea I guess I am a little hungry" I chuckle. After we ate a filling meal composed of chicken, vegetables and roast potatoes we sat up on the couch with a blanket each popcorn within reach and watched a movie. Time passed us by and soon it was midnight, "You got another movie in you, Sara?"
"Um I think I'll just go to bed,"
"No worries, kiddo. Night,"
"Goodnight."
The next day I go down stairs to eat breakfast "good morning Sara how did u sleep?" she asked me as she flips some pancakes. "good. hey, can I go and explore the woods today?" I asked, "yeah go right ahead." after breakfast I head outside, as I'm walking around the place I can hear lots of wildlife, birds chirping the wind hitting the leaves to the trees it was just so peaceful then I see what looks to be a really old path, as I'm going down the path it starts to open up a small bit, there's a creak by the path. I soon come across small a clearing with a gigantic tree in the middle and a pond.
After looking around the tree and pond for a while I decide to explore some more. I see a game trail off to the left of the pond. I follow it to see what kinds of animals live here. I could see all kinds of tracks deer, elk, raccoon, bobcat, and... one I'm not familiar with it looked like a giant wolf track but it was weird, I take my phone out to take a picture of it to show aunt Kacy. As I started walking again, the forest went silent.
I know when the forest goes quiet there is a predator close by so I decide to go back, the hairs on my neck go up, I get the feeling I'm being watched. I finely got back to the giant tree and pond I found. I looked around the area, since I didn't see anything around the small clearing so I started walking again. I heard a growl, I've never heard a growl like that before. It scared me to death a deer came running throw the trees. There was something chasing it whatever had growled at me went and ran after the deer as well that's when I decide to run the rest of the way back to the house.
(Sara's P.O.V) (notebook) Day 2 at Kacy's
it's so nice and peaceful here I never want to leave. I found a really cool place, there is a giant tree right by a small lake the water is like glass and it's a silvery aquamarine color and a oak tree. I can't wait to see what else is here. I just had the weirdest thing happen. I found a weird wolf track and then the forest went quiet and as I was walking back something growled at me and then there was something chasing a deer and the thing that growled at me ran after the deer to then I got back to the house I told Kacy about the track I found and showed her the pitcher I took of it and she asked me to show her. As we were walking we found another track that was closer to the house and she made a cast of it I went back to the house by myself.
I close my notebook as soon put it down my phone goes off I jumped. I grab my phone to see that my best friend's Kayla and Emily want to video chat on the computer, I go over to the desk and sit down with my heart still racing from the jump scare. I got on the computer, and got on the video chat. "hey how are you guys?" "were good. How about you." "well... some weird stuff has been going on here." "like what?" Kayla asks I told them what happened. "well it could be a coywolf" Emily said, (coywolves are a wolf coyote mix) "I don't know but just about an hour ago" I said. "Wow that scary" Kayla said, "well I still think it's a coywolf." Emily said. It was now about 11:00 at night "well night guys." "night." they said in unison.
I went and got in the shower then got ready for bed as I was lying in bed I kept thinking about what happen earlier that day I soon closed my eyes and fell asleep.
(Day 3)
That morning I walk down stairs got breakfast and I went and looked at the paw print and study it. The print looked odd it looked like a normal wolf track but twice the size. I went in to the kitchen and left a note for my aunt telling her that I was going for a walk and that I had my knife with me.
I was going back to the tree just to hang out there and relax. Once I got to where I could see the bottom of the tree I saw a wolf. I gasped and it looked at me and we made eye contact and it's eyes were a beautiful green color. I looked away from it eyes and its fur was black. It stopped about 10 feet away from me, I felt like I was about to cry I was so scared, it started sniffing the air and he walked towards me it was now 5 feet away from me. It then leaned forwards and sniffed me I whimpered and his head shot back and he looked at me tears were running down my cheeks, I closed my eyes. the wolf's shoulders came up to my knees. It started sniffing me again and walked around me, once it got in front of me again, it looked at me and it whined at me. I opened my eyes and stared at the black wolf and he stared right back at me. i took a deep breath and slowly lifted my hand up for him to sniff but right then, there was a howl from far away he turned his head and ran off. I just sat there in shock. I ran back to the house. I went running through the door crying. Kacy came running from the living room " Sarah what's wrong?" "there was a giant wolf. It came up to me and it sniffed me." I said still crying "what are u ok did it bite you or anything?" "no but it was giant. and there was a howl from somewhere and when it heard that it ran off." I said starting to calm down "well let's just sit down and watch some T.V. Ok?"
(Notebook) Day 3 at Kacy's Its June 15th, 2010
I went back to the giant tree and there was what I thought was a large wolf next to it, and it walked over to me and sniffed me then ran off. I don't know what to think. It wasn't aggressive at me at all even after I looked in to its eyes. I just don't know.
(time skip 4 days) (Sara's P.O.V.) Notebook Day 7 at aunt Kacy's)
Me and Kacy have spent the last couple of days fishing and hiking but I always felt like I was being watch but it made me feel safe, but to day is my birth day and i'm just going to explore the woods some more.
I was walking throughout the forest when I heard a growl, a grizzly came charging out of the woods at me, I screamed and fell backwards. I heard something bounding towards me from behind. Just as the bear was a few feet in front of me, a giant shape came flying over me and tackled the bear. It was that giant wolf. It stoud up and roared at the bear.
The bear stood up and roared back at the wolf. I was crying as the bear hit the wolf with its massove paw leaving a large bloody gash across its chest. I got up and took off running back to the house about half way back I ran in to Kacy "what's going on" she asks me as I just ran past her "werewolf grizzly bear fighting" I screamed as I ran hearing the fight behind me.
Me and Kacy were sitting in the living room I was still crying. Later that night I grabbed my notebook and stared writing.
(Notebook) Day 7 at aunt Kacy's June 22, 2010
I just saw a werewolf but it was in the day I thought werewolf only came out during the full moon it was the same thing I saw on the 15th I am never going back in those woods ever and I'm not telling anyone.
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suitcasetales · 2 years
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A Date with the Devil
When I looked out the window Wednesday morning, the fog was even lower on the hill behind us. The forecast was much like yesterday’s — early cloud coverage, late sun….more of the same. But at least it meant we didn’t need to slather on the sun lotion (“sun cream” here).
We all chose the longer hike option so both Rachel and Phil would be on the trip. We knew Phil would take over and be annoying and we knew Rachel would hang back with the stragglers. I knew I would be somewhere in the middle!
We had a shorter bus ride to our starting point and maybe a half mile hike up to the ruins of 11th century Corfe Castle. We didn’t have time to tour the Castle but after seeing it — or what is left of it — that was fine with me. On the other hand, the village outside of the castle gates was adorable. Phil gave us all of 5 minutes to explore it but we ended up being there at least 20. I would love to return one day. Weird, though, as picturesque as it was, I took no pictures! Most of us just wanted to get hiking.
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Once we were finally headed in the direction of our trail, I did take this picture of a beautiful home with a thatched roof. Sue explained that people often put some artsy decoration along the roof line and I really liked this one.
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The majority of today’s mileage was spent on “the downs” which, according to the Britannica website, are “rounded and grass-covered hills in southern England that are typically composed of chalk. Because of the porous nature of chalk, the Downs’ summits are dry in summer, and tree growth is normally slow, even if undisturbed. Regeneration has been prevented by sheep grazing. The Downs were formerly well wooded, but now only scattered woodlands of beech, yew, juniper, and box are found.”
Except for not explaining the very long gradual ascent across the downs, this perfectly describes the terrain through which we hiked. With sweeping views of the surrounding towns and villages, we even got to see the Swanage Railway, a heritage line alternating between steam and diesel engines, chugging parallel to us down in the valley toward Swanage.
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The incline when we first started was a bit challenging and we almost immediately got pretty spread out as a group. Eventually, the gradient eased and it wasn’t too bad. The route was popular with hikers, cyclists and cows; we saw one jogger, one man on horseback.
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I was relieved when we finally topped out after a good three miles and began our descent. But my relief turned to pain as it was via a very rocky road, basically, and you had to watch every step. And even though I had on thick trail running shoes, the rocks hurt the bottom of my feet. We stopped about three-quarters of the way down, ate our picnic lunches and strategically took our natural breaks. Sitting at lunch and staring at the high hill across from us, Rachel nor Phil mentioned that we would soon be climbing up to the obelisk at the top of it!
Up until this point in the trip, this was the hardest section for me. Why anyone thought that building steps up the side of a steep hill was a good idea, I do not know! Whatever happened to trails that run along the contours and gradually climb with a series of switchbacks? The distance between steps also varied and some steps were overgrown with foliage so at times you had to step over to the side and simply climb up the ruts developed over the years. Thank goodness, the trail was dry. I can’t imagine how dangerous it would be to come down this trail — similar challenges we would eventually face!
The photo below is an attempt to show the steepness.
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I had nice views of the harbour and beach at Swanage anytime I stopped for a breather and was brave enough to look around. 
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Once we ALL finally made it up to the obelisk, the view was pretty darn good as we could see Poole Harbour and Brownsea Island, the birthplace of the scouting movement. We took a group photo there but it was very windy so we didn’t linger too long. Besides, the most fit of us — and I do not count myself among them — had been waiting up there for a while and were anxious to carry on!
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We still had another two-and-a-half miles to the highlight of today’s hike so up another gentle slope we went; however, it wasn’t long before we finally topped out and then it was straight and flat as it gets. We had 360 degree views, cows and sheep grazing around us and paying us no mind and, just on cue,the sun was trying its best to escape the cloud coverage.
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In due course, we made it out to Handfast Point, still on the isle of Purbeck to Old Harry Rocks. This is the most eastern edge of the 95-mile “Jurassic Coast,” a UNESCO World Heritage Site. There are two main theories of the name Old Harry Rocks. One involves a notorious pirate from Poole named Harry Paye in the 14th century who used to lurk behind the rocks and then attack passing boats. Another theory is that Harry is an old nickname of the Devil and legend has it that he took a nap on the rocks.
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However named, Old Harry Rocks is a beautiful corner of the world. The sun was almost blinding reflecting off the chalk cliffs. We had time to spare here as the town where we meeting the bus allegedly “had nothing.” We were probably with the devil for about an hour — it just goes to show I needn’t have rushed up that steep hillside!
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We still had about a mile to walk in to the small town of Studland. We stopped just short of town at a public restroom and asked someone if there was a pub in town and they said yes, just around the corner. So of course our gang made a bee-line for the Banks Arms Inn (and pub), ordered beverages and sat at picnic tables across the street in warm sunshine with a view of the sea. Harry, I am happy to report, was not anywhere around to bother us; he must have fallen asleep out on the rocks!
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catgirlelric · 3 years
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dear god the sun has risen
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lys1 · 3 years
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Congratulations! You waited so patiently <3 This is another Asra x fem!reader for you. NSFW. 5218 words. 
Playing With Potions
—————
The late spring morning air was warming up to be a balmy 75 degrees. You had your skirt pulled down and up, tucked in the back of the waistband, forming makeshift shorts. The shop was somewhat quiet, yet the din from the streets made its nimble way through the open windows.
You descend the ladder to the box of ingredients you were unpacking. They had come in the previous evening and Asra had promptly asked you to “organize them later”. Of course you said yes, the two of you shared this shop after all, and the work that came with it.
Asra himself was bustling behind the counter, sweeping the wooden floors free of the dust and fallen ingredients. He stops momentarily to pick up his cup of tea and take a long sip. The jasmine tea's steam billows into his face as he sighs with content pleasure.
The floorboards creak as you step down and Asra looks over at you, gaze soft. "How's the supplies look, dear?" He asks curiously, returning the cup to it’s coaster.
"Ah," you muse, counting the small containers in your hands. "Looks like we will be all set on lizard toes for a while, I think our supply captain read 1000 instead of 100." You can't help but chuckle, it couldn't be helped, at least you wouldn’t have to order more for a while.
Asra's eyes open a little wider, "oh my." He laughs, "I suppose we won’t". He sets his broom to rest against the counter and bare feet pad over to you, his deep-purple eyes examining the products.
You feel his hand settle on your waist subconsciously; a side effect of being close to one another. You breathe in lightly, smelling the sweet scent of coconut and honied biscuits wash over you. Asra's breakfast choice was apparent.
"Mm," you say, turning so the two of you were face to face. "You smell delicious."
Asra smiles, box in his hand now a little less important. "Care for a taste?" He teases, eyes falling to your parted lips. He sets his lizard toes aside and joins his other hand at your waist. You look up at him through your eyelashes and nod.
He is a mere millimeter from sealing the gap between you when the bell of the shop jingles merrily.
"Ah jeez," you huff good in good nature. "I forgot we have jobs and responsibilities."
Asra laughs at your obvious disappointment and steals a small peck. "Unfortunately, we have to eat somehow." He then turns away and walks back to the counter to greet the customer.
The man is short and has a little round face. He looks extraordinarily nervous, and this catches your attention. Yours and Asra's shop is well known in the city and the townsfolk trust their magicians. You hadn't seen anyone come in here looking so nervous, and maybe even a little embarrassed.
"What can I do for you, sir?" Asra asks charmingly, resuming his position behind the counter. Briefly you let yourself admire how nice he looks, comfortable in his shop and expertise, before turning back to the box you were supposed to be dealing with. Not, however, letting your ears miss the conversation.
"I," the man starts, already fumbling with his words. "I, well look. I need help." He finishes plainly, nervously clutching his shirt between his pudgy hands.
Asra smiles kindly, "many do." He says, tilting his head and examining his new client. "Are you here for a card reading? Need to get some answers?"
The man groans as though he is already exhausted with the conversation. "No, I already know what I need. I have the answers. I've heard about this place. The ways you can help people. I live an hour out of the market and I made this trip just to see you."
"We're flattered, for sure." Asra says calmly, you can hear slight annoyance in his tone from all the ambiguity. The visitor is none the wiser though. "To help you though," Asra continues. "I'll need to know what you need."
"Alright I need a potion," the man finally reveals. "One that will help me... with performance." His cheeks are redder than a bell pepper in the sun.
Asra raises a white eyebrow, "performance? Are you an actor?"
"No!" The man's voice came out in a strangled whisper, obviously trying to keep it down. You roll your eyes, chancing a glance over your shoulder. The shop floor wasn't that big, of course you were going to hear everything.
"No," he said again, this time a little more composed. "What I mean is... my sex life performance." The truth comes out. Your visitor wipes his forehead with a dirty rag from his pocket. "My wife and I well.. we've hit a slump," he explains. "And I've heard of potions that can help with that kind of thing. Stuff that will completely change the game." His eyes are shining now, imaging life post-performance potion.
Asra looks uncertain at best. "I see," he starts, shooting you a glance. "That.. does exists. But it takes awhile to make. And the price isn't cheap either."
You shove the last of the crow feathers into their designated drawer while listening. You have never heard of such a potion, but you were also still learning. Asra sounds a little unsure though.
"Price isn't an issue," the man sounds desperate. "I'll pay anything."
Asra sighs, he feels bad for the man wringing his hands before him, practically crying for a cure. "Alright," he finally concedes. "I'll make it, but you'll have to come back in the morning. This kind of thing takes all evening to brew."
Your customer nods vigorously, "I can wait." He says. "Tomorrow morning, yes! I'll be here!" His excitement apparent, he bows a few times while backing out of the door, tripping over his own feet.
The door closes with a sharp bang and the bell rings furiously. Asra blows air out of his mouth so that itf ruffles the curls between his eyes.
"Well," he says after a moment. "A sex performance enhancing potion was not what I was expecting to make today." He rubs his temples, eyes closed and looking thoughtful.
You grin at him from the shelf as you pick up the empty shipping box and rest it on your hip. "That's quite the name, I've never heard of a potion like that."
Asra laughs and opens his beautiful eyes to look at you. "Yes, you'll have to forgive me for not teaching you that kind of magic, it's not the.. safest." He ends uncertainly. "I don't even know how this guy found out about it. It's not talked about much amongst us magicians.. and it's certainly not a common one."
Immediately more questions than your mouth can keep up with flood your brain. "So how did you find out about it? And why isn't it safe?" You ask the two more important ones, eyes following Asra as he finds a piece of paper and quill to use.
He dips his quill in the register's ink well and starts scratching down what you presumed to be ingredients. "I've been studying magic for years, my love." He says simply, "and before you ask, no I haven't used it on myself." He looks up at you, mischief dancing in his pretty eyes. "I'd like to think my sex game is up to par." He adds innocently, licking his lips seductively when your ears tinge pink.
You brush imaginary dirt off your shirt sleeves and huff. "I suppose it's pretty good." You mumble. It almost feels like a lie to just describe it as "pretty good" but Asra doesn't need you to stroke his ego right now. You do that enough falling to pieces beneath him every night.
Asra is well aware of your attempt to keep him humble and laughs lightly. "And to answer your other question," he says, turning back to his ingredient list, "messing with ones body like this can be dangerous. You have to be very precise."
You nod as he explains, it makes sense.
Potions are always brewed in pots over a magic fire so you put yourself to work, removing a medium sized iron pot from a hook on the wall and carrying it to a fire stand. Asra is busy himself, opening various drawers and adding seemingly random ingredients to a basket he has looped over his arm. Iris petals, newt eyeball, and some shimmering gold flakes. You smile watching him, your gorgeous magician; smart and able.
In no time at all Asra has a bubbling pot of sweet smelling liquid stirring before him. You stand beside him, observing curiously.
"Why are you wearing gloves?" You ask, taking note of the large leather gloves that clad all the way up your lover's forearm.
Asra continues to stir and looks over at you, happy to hear your eagerness to learn. "I can't risk even a drop of this touching my skin. It's so strong, and will immediately absorb into anyone's skin, leaving them..." He shakes his head and trails off, amused. "That's why it has to brew so long, to burn off some of the potency."
Your mouth opens in amazement, taken aback by the idea. This is the real deal you decide, stepping back a couple inches in precaution. After watching the potion bubble for a couple more minutes you stretch and grab the watering can sitting by the floor of the door.
"I'm going to water the plants," you inform Asra, waving your hand briefly until the can is full of cool, crisp water. Gods knows there are at least three dozen inside and outside of the shop.
Asra is humming in confirmation that he heard you as you open the shop door to the plants hanging outside. You don't get very far before you're blindsided by a streak of purple darting through your legs.
Escape!
"Faust?!" You yelp, dancing around the squirming snake as she winds her way under and into the open shop. A loud, booming bark makes you jump again. This time a large hound dog is rounding the tight corner from the side street and barreling full speed towards you.
All hell breaks loose. The water can is up in the air, crashing wildly into the side of the building. You are thrown back onto the dusty floor and a mass of fur and teeth race past you, paying no mind to your yelling.
Help!
Faust is racing around the floor, narrowly avoiding the jaws of the angry dog she seemed to have aggravated. There's a large crash from inside and you cringe, hearing bottles break and wood crunch. You look back, scared at what you might find.
The shop is a disaster, papers strewn, vials broken, and potion pot toppled. Asra is groaning on the floor, obviously doing no better than the rest. You glance at him worriedly, taking quick notice of the potion he had been making spilled everywhere, even on him.
You snap your fingers and the dog's growl, who was cornering Faust by the bookshelf, turns into a whimper as you lift him up with your magic. "I'm sorry pooch," you sigh, "but we can't have you eating our friend." With a wave of your wrist the hound is out the door and down the street in an instant. The hinges creak and bell rings as the door is once again closed to outside.
Thank you!
Faust wriggles happily, red eyes glowing in relief. You guess she got up to some trouble with the local fauna. She slithers up the stairs quickly, leaving you to look around at the ruined shop.
"Ah, fuck," Asra's words cut through your thoughts like a knife. He's laying flat on the floor, chest heaving as though he just ran a marathon. Sweat glistens on his tan skin, covering him from head to toe.
You step over the broken bottles and kneel at his side. "My love?" You ask, unsure of what to do. It was obvious what had happened, it didn't take an expert. The potion that was supposed to be for your customer was now soaked into Asra's glowing skin.
Asra opens his eyes and you swallow hard. You know that look, and it nearly makes you start trembling where you sit. Lust is prevalent, clouding Asra's eyes until they're a dark amethyst color.
"You-" you start to speak but are cut off by Asra sitting up abruptly. His face is close to yours and his breath washes over your lips, hot and wanton. He looks positively desperate, just the sight of you sitting before him doing wonders.
"Please," Asra's voice comes out low and husky, he watches your chest rise and fall quickly as a result. "Can I please have you, right now."
You could almost call him asking like that soft and innocent, if it wasn't for the raw, hungry look he was giving you. His eyes were traveling everywhere across your body, leaving an invisible line that you could almost feel burning into your skin. Your lips parted and you let out a soft gasp, the power that kind of look had over you was astonishing. You shifted your legs under you subtly, feeling the result of the hot atmosphere low in your stomach.
"Tsk, tsk," you had to tease for a moment. "Closing the shop at midday for some fucking?" You reach up and cup Asra's cheek, feigning uncertainty. His skin on your fingertips burns white hot and you have to hide your amazement.
Asra's eyes narrow, he knew you too well. With a quick flick of his wrist you hear the deadbolt on the door slide into place. It's only a second later and both of his hands have found a place on either side of your hips.
"Why do you torment me?" he asks, pulling you close so your legs straddle him. "Can't you see I'm getting enough of that from this damn mistake of a potion?" His words are almost shaky, as though he can barely speak anymore. He presses his hips up to meet yours, and a soft sigh escapes his lips as he finally gets a little friction.
You dig your nails into his shoulders and gasp, the feeling of Asra so obviously in need is enough to make anyone go wild.
You can't resist grinding down lightly and Asra's eyes practically roll back at the sensation. "How can I say no to such a pretty face," you whisper, completely in love with his reaction.
That was enough for Asra and without added words he gathers you up in his strong arms and lifts you both. Your head falls back pleasurably when his lips find your neck. It only takes a few quick steps on his part to bring the two of you into the plush back room.
The purple cushions lining the cozy futon sink in gently as your back hits the mattress. The room has a slight pleasing haze as sandalwood incense burns at the table. The smell washes over your senses and a new wave of sensuality comes over the room.
Asra's hands hold you firmly as his lips continue to press lovingly into your skin. He hovers over you, one leg pressed between your legs, causing your hips to involuntarily move along his thigh.
"I need you out of these clothes," Asra groans, lips being stopped at your chest where your shirt has suddenly become a hindrance. He's already tugging at the hem, untucking the loose fabric from your waistband. You raise yourself to your elbows and help him pull the shirt over your head. At once it is thrown over Asra's shoulder and his eyes are set on your bare skin, drinking in the sight of his lover.
You smile at his admiration and lay back again, stretching your arms above your head and arching your back. You feel his hands on your stomach, traveling up to rest on your breasts. Your skin prickles with desire, flesh lighting on fire from his ministrations.
"How did I get so lucky," he breathes out, looking down at you with a look filled with love and passion. He rests the tips of his fingers on your nipples and swirls them lightly, leaving you to twist in torturous pleasure beneath his touch. "Everything about you is beautiful." Asra continues to flatter, lowering his head so his curls tickle your stomach. He licks a long line from the dip of your hip up to the valley between your breasts.
After a few moments of tasting your supple skin he moves his hands to the top of your skirt and tugs. You lift your hips in compliance and the fabric slides down your legs easily. Asra licks his lips as your body is finally fully presented to him.
"I could feast on you," he announces, voice lowered with need. "And I wouldn't go hungry in a lifetime." These words he whispers into your inner thigh, they tickle your skin softly.
You watch with bated breath as the man before you adores his lover. It's hard to keep your moans controlled as you feel his sinfully good tongue lick you in a way that can only be described as ecstasy.
Asra shifts into a more comfortable position, lying on his stomach and he brings your legs to lay comfortably over his shoulders. You shudder as you feel his hot breath flutter over your dripping slit. He doesn't waste anymore time and lowers his face to enjoy you.
Your thighs squeeze his head lightly as your body arches in response. Asra is devouring you as though you were a feast and it was the only meal he is to have in a lifetime. He grips your legs tightly to keep you from moving and covers your slit with his mouth, sucking for a moment on the tight nub at the top. He groans happily into your skin before moving down to lick your hole.
"Oh please, yes," you run your trembling hand through his hair and raise your hips up to meet his greedy mouth. He laps short, quick strokes first, stimulating you into madness.
After a moment he slows his tongue down to swirl languidly, looking up at you. You make eye contact and groan at the erotic scene of him eating you out. "That mouth of yours is too skilled for its own good," you whisper, fingers digging into his scalp, trying desperately to savor every swipe of his tongue.
Asra smiles against your folds. "I live to make you feel good, my dear." He says, pausing a moment. "You intoxicate me. Your smell, your taste. I couldn't get enough even if I had all the time in the world." He presses his lips on each one of your thighs with hot, open mouth kisses.
You blush at his words, feeling amazing under his praise. "Come here," you command softly, pulling on Asra's hair lightly to guide him back up your body. He kisses every inch of skin he passes before finally reaching your lips.
"Mm," he hums, taking your face in his hands. "But these lips, are like the finest honey in Vesuvia." He lifts your head so your mouths meet. It's a hot and feverish kiss, full of staggering amounts of love.
You press your body into his and relish in the feeling of kissing Asra. Your mouths are opened to one another and your tongues meet in fiery unison. While you enjoy the kiss you allow your hands to roam. Your fingers find his shirt buttons and you start to undo them as best you can, only a little distracted. It takes just a minute and you sigh happily into his mouth when you finally remove the annoying clothing.
You part a moment to admire the divinity of his body; prostrated before you. He was calling himself the lucky one, but you could probably make a pretty good argument for it being the other way around. He looked absolutely glorious in the hazy glow of the room.
As you reach for the waistband of his pants and rest your fingers playfully on the skin above it Asra breaks out in goosebumps at the fluttering feel of your touch.
"Ah," he breaths out, raising himself to his knees and closing his eyes. Clearly, he's enjoying the attention finally being on him.
"You are the one with the potion affecting them." You say, drawing a line from one hip to another. "It'd almost be criminal to ignore you for any longer." Your eyes fall to the bulge straining under Asra's pants, just begging to be free. A smile plays across your lips as his breaths quickens significantly.
"I.. wouldn't complain." He finally manages to say in a strained tone.
You smile, maybe a little too satisfied, and hook your fingers under the band. "I know." You chuckle, pulling. The trousers catch a moment on Asra's hardened length before slipping down to his knees. You take time to admire the sight before you, licking your lips. Asra is panting slightly, looking down at you lustfully as your eyes graze over him.
He grabs your head on either side and looks into your eyes. "Please," is all he can croak out.
You swallow thickly and you feel yourself dampen even more at his begging words. “I’d like nothing more" you say; need dripping heavily from your words. You lean forward and kiss the tip of his leaking slit lightly. Asra's body shivers with pleasure when your soft lips meet his aching shaft.
You take a breath before closing your mouth around his tip. Your cheeks hollow and you suck in deeply, enjoying the small sounds of pleasure emitting from Asra's lips. He groans even deeper as you finally swallow down his whole length, tip sliding down the back of your throat.
"Ah fuck, baby," he stutters through gritted teeth, fingers threading through your hair. He thrusts into your mouth without hesitation, reveling in the way you feel around him. The pace is fast and vicious, leaving no time for extra room for breathing.
You choke back your gasps and feel the involuntary tears prick at the corners or your eyes. Your hands fall to your sides as you let Asra use your mouth how he pleased. Licentious noises ring around the room as he sinks his member into your mouth relentlessly, moaning at each stroke and the salacious feelings that come over him.
His grip tightens in your hair as he pounds into your face. You open your mouth as widely as you can and take him in, ignoring the slight pain of labored breathing. The feeling of being used so mercilessly is intoxicating, and you close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure that overtakes you.
With a loud pop he pulls out of your drooling mouth, leaving you to be the one groaning in disappointment.
"I'm sorry love," he huffs dazedly, need heavy on his features. "But if I don't stop this now I'm cumming in your mouth."
"That doesn't sound so bad," you complain, sticking your tongue out so Asra can view how much you want it. His eyes darken considerably and he looks ready to break.
He takes a breath in sharply, steadying himself before holding your face gently in his hand. "As much as I want you fuck your face, that pussy of yours I know is dripping for me and I have to comply." He chuckles, running his thumb along your lip.
You whimper at his words, practically climaxing at the suggestion. You meet his eyes in a needy manner and nod. "Oh, Asra," you start, already seeing excitement flit across his face at the mention of his name. "I want you more than I can even describe to you."
To this Asra inhales sharply, thumb still hooked in your mouth. "Tell me how you want me," he says, barely able to contain his own desire.
"I want you to fuck me from behind," you begin, knowing exactly how to please his ears. "I'm going to cry and moan, and beg you for relief but you will know better." His eyes widen in ecstasy but you continue anyway. "I want you to give everything you can to me, without holding back."
Asra seems to snap right in front of you. His features immediately seem to plead for consolation. "You'll get what you ask for." He growls, fingers tightening in your mouth. You lick his thumb seductively and the action throws him over the edge.
Asra's hands fly to your waist and hold you firmly, you're flipped over; ass to the heavens greeting him. He swallows at the sight and digs both palms into the flesh, enjoying the feeling immensely. "So needy and ready for me," he groans, finger finding your entrance and slipping in easily. You gulp at the warmth of having fingers enter you. Asra is unrelenting and curls them cruelly against your walls.
"Just fuck me already!" You cry, unable to hide your desires anymore. You hear Asra laugh behind you, yet despite this you know he is dying to sink himself into you.
"Alright, alright." He concedes, taking your hips in his hands. "If you insist."
You feel his tip slide against your slit and shudder, craving the feeling of him inside you. It doesn't take more than a moment before you feel him start to enter you. You lay your head down, turning your face so you can watch Asra take you from behind.
His lips are parted in a silent moan as he relishes in the feeling of your walls around him. You sigh softly as he fully sheaths himself in you, a small tremor passing over your body from the pleasure. One moment, two moments pass as you both bask in the feeling of being connected.
"Give me your hands," he commands, slowly sliding in and out of you, giving no care to his agonizingly slow pace. Soft gasps are falling from your lips as you try to register his request.
Carefully, you cross your arms behind your back. It's no use to keep the blush at bay as you take in the dirty scene. Your face is pressed to the pillows, unable to move much as Asra takes your wrists and pins them to your back. Your ass is raised in the air to meet his rhythmic thrusting.
Asra grips one of your thighs with a free hand and quickens the pace a little. Your eyes shut tightly as your body responds. You can feel his tip hit deep inside of you with each snap of his hips. It's unrelenting and you have to catch yourself from begging for more.
You feel the fingers around your wrist tighten a bit as Asra's breathing speeds up behind you. You know that he's set on giving you as much painfully slow torture as he can manage himself, but you also know that potion is working against him. There's nothing he wants more than to let go and pound you into the mattress.
"Baby," you choke out, words bouncing along with your bodies. "I know you want to fuck me so good right now." Your voice is deep with seduction. "Please just fill me up like I know you want to." You finish your plea, watching his face with satisfaction. His eyes are darkened with desire. He takes just a few more strokes before slowly to a stop inside you.
"You asked for it," he warns. He only takes a moment to let go of your wrists and flips your body so you're facing him. He cages you in on either side and licks his lips as he stares into your eyes. His hungry mouth meets yours in a kiss full of fire. You can melt into it for only a second before you feel him grab your hips and pull you flush against him; Your cries drowned by his lips as he sets an erratic pace, skin meeting with loud slaps.
"Fucking hell," he groans, still kissing you between words. "You feel like heaven on earth. You're so hot, and I can feel your insides squeezing me." He explains, hot breath falling over your face. Your cheeks burn at his descriptions.
You loop your arms around his neck and press your chest into his. Your skin meets, shining with sweat and burning from love. Asra presses back, savoring the feeling of your nipples brushing against his.
You start to feel that familiar blossom of unreleased pleasure pool in your lower stomach. Asra's shaft is hitting you just right, sending jolts of satisfaction right to your core.
"Oh-" you stop and whine pleasantly when he shifts angles. "Fuck. Please yes, don't stop!" Your arms drop and nails dip into his biceps and you grit your teeth from the hot delight searing through your body.
"I couldn't even If i wanted to," Asra answers, words strained as his grasp on himself starts to crumble. His breath is leaving his lips in short pants now and you can almost see the resolve to hold on slip away before your eyes.
He falls into you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and thrusts into you with all of the strength he can muster. You bury your face in his neck and take hold of his hair. You can feel Asra's body shuddering to not let go.
You bring your lips to his ear and bite his lobe. "Won't you come for me sweetheart? Please empty yourself in me." You whisper.
Asra takes in a sharp breath and you hear him choke at your words. They were enough to push him over the edge and he rams into you with a low, strangled cry.
Your head falls back and your mouth opens in a silent scream as Asra lets himself go in you. Your legs shake violently of their own accord as you feel your orgasm wash over you, leaving your body in euphoric fire.
Asra's lips immediately find yours as you ride out your orgasms together. You kiss him passionately, all of your senses in overdrive. His kisses are soft, and sweet, a clear declaration of his love. Happiness rushes in like a flood as you enjoy the afterglow. After a minute Asra removes himself from you and joins you in laying down, sides still heaving from the activities.
"My dear, how I love you." He says with a smile, running his fingers in slow, soft circles on your stomach.
You turn on your side and look into his eyes. He looked content, and his cheeks were dimpled from his growing grin.
"I love you too," you return, hand falling into his. His skin was still warm. The two of you lay there for a while, out of breath and simply enjoying the presence of one another.
Eventually, Asra sits up and looks down at you with humor in his eyes. "Well, I think I can tell our buyer that we did an extensive review of his product and it does, in fact, work."
Your face breaks into a smile and you laugh at Asra's words. "Oh goodie, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear all about it."
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beels-burger-babe · 3 years
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The Day Out
GN!MC Summary: MC and Solomon spend the day out enjoying the wonders of the Devildom. The problem with this? They never told the seven Lords of Hell that they’d be gone for the day.  TW: Torture (Not to the MC or the bros tho), Injuries, Murder (Again, just an unimportant Background Character) When the Wise King Solomon asks you out of nowhere if you would like to spend a day exploring the Devildom with him, some hesitancy is to be expected. We’re talking about an ancient wizard who is notoriously sketchy in every way and who seems to always have some kind of personal agenda that he uses for everything.  But the fact in the matter was that you had just survived and grueling two weeks of exams at RAD, and the stress of always being passed around between the demon brothers to partake in their various schemes and problems was really starting to wear on you.  So a day out, relaxing, and finally getting to explore Devildom in its entirety, regardless of the company, actually sounded pretty good.  Solomon had asked you to meet him outside of the House of Lamentation just before dawn. He stood there now, looking as collected and secretive as ever, with a satchel strapped over his shoulder.  “Ready to go and enjoy the company of another human?”  “More than ever! What’s with the bag?”  The wizard shrugged held out his arm to you. “I thought I might collect a few potion ingredients if I happen to spot any. The Devildom is home to a number of special rarities after all, and it would be horrible not to take advantage of my time down here to collect some of them.” That was fair. You took Solomon’s arm and allowed him to pull you close to his side before the two of you took off onto a trail in the woods. 
*** Later that morning  Mammon frowned as he approached his human’s room. You hadn’t been at breakfast, and he hadn’t heard from you all morning. This was weird. More than weird, it was worrying. It seemed like ever since you had arrived in the Devildom, the second born had a hard time getting you to leave his side, and sure it was annoying at first, but he had come to appreciate the warm presence that you exuded and found himself feeling strangely cold without you there.  He knocked on the door. “MC! Ya gonna missed breakfast! Wake up, ya lazy bones. Just because it’s the weekend, doesn't mean ya get to hold up in ya room all day like Levi!” He smirked at his own insult and waited for your inevitable retort.  Instead, he was met with silence.  Mammon’s frown made a quick reappearance. “Oi! Don’t go ignoring the Great Mammon! Beel’s gonna eat you’re share and I don’t wanna hear ya complainin’ that you’re hungry all day. Now wake up!”  Again, silence.  He growled quietly to himself in frustration as a knot of concern began to tighten in his stomach. “MC, open the door and get over here or I’m comin’ myself! This ain’t funny, human!” When he was once again met with no response, the demon cursed under his breath and went to open the door; to his surprise, it was unlocked. He threw the door open and glared inside the room. “That’s it human! Up and at it! I’ll drag ya down to the dining room mysel-” He cut himself off as he noticed the room was empty. “MC?” Mammon looked around, noting your unmade bed and window being propped slightly open. He chuckled worriedly and began to look around a little more frantically. “Ha. Ha. Very funny. What? Ya plannin’ to jump and scare me? Ain’t gonna work, so ya might as well come out now. Seriously, MC. This ain’t funny.” The knot pulled tighter as he realized he was talking to himself. He began to search every nook and cranny of the room, hoping to Diavolo that maybe you were just really dedicated to this prank and was still hiding, but paled as he realized you were nowhere to be found. “Shit!” He cursed aloud and sprinted to the dining room where the rest of the brothers still sat.  “MC is missing!”  *** You gasped and ran ahead of Solomon as the two of you walked through the forest. You crouched down and looked at a patch of glowing blue mushrooms, eyes wide with awe. “It’s so beautiful,” you gasped and glanced over your shoulder. “I can’t believe I’ve been in the Devildom for nearly a year and never came out here.”  Solomon chuckled at your child-like wonder. “The forest can be quite dangerous to those who don’t know what to look out for. For example, those beautiful glowing mushrooms?” he gestured to the fungus in front you, “Those are called the Ardentes Mushrooms. They explode on contact and create a poisonus gas.”  You’re eyes widened as you quickly scrambled back from it. “What?! Why didn’t you tell me that before I got close?”  The wizard shrugged and put a hand on your waist to pull you close to his side, as he handed you a cloth. “Like you said, you’ve been here for nearly a year and haven’t seen much because those demons have gotten quite protective of you. I thought you might enjoy observing and learning about the wilds of the Devildom. Put the cloth over your mouth and nose, and watch.”  You did as instructed. Solomon smirked before putting a cloth mask over his own face. With one hand holding you close to him, a safe distance from the mushrooms, Solomon picked up a long stick and gently poked one of the fungus.  With a small poof it quickly became engulfed in azure flames aned small glowing flecks danced and sparkled in the air around you. You held back a gasp from behind the cloth as you watched in amazement, and Solomon simply stood there holding and watching you.  *** The Seven Avatars of Sin stood in the lounge anxiously. They had searched the entire House of Lamentation inch by inch and there was no sign of the human that had been entrusted under their protection.  Lucifer sighed and leaned against the table. “If they’re not in the manor, we have to consider other possibilities. Has anyone had any luck reaching them?” He looked over at Levi, “Could you potentially trace their D.D.D. if we aren’t able to reach them?”  Levi solemnly shook his head and placed the mentioned device on the table. “Found it in their room,” he ran a hand over his face in frustration. “They know better than to go out without their phone! This isn’t like them!”  “Maybe they didn’t go willingly.” All attention snapped over to Satan, who was looking at the D.D.D thoughtfully with a hand on his chin.  Mammon paled as his hands gripped tightly onto the chair in front of him. “Y-Ya mean ya think someone took them?”  The aura in the room darkened as Satan nodded. “Levi’s right. They know better than to leave without one of us and even if they had to, they would at the very least take their D.D.D. They may be reckless sometimes, but they’ve been more careful about their safety ever since-” he paused and glanced at Belphegore before clearing his throat. “But that’s besides the point. Their window was unlocked and open as well. A demon could’ve very easily gotten in through there and took them while we were all asleep.”  Asmo let out a dramatic gasp and threw himself onto Beelzebub’s arm. “Oh the poor dear! They must’ve been so frightened being taken advantage of like that!” Beel looked down at Asmodeus both disturbed by his brother’s antics, but also distraught by his words.  Belphie rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “But there wasn’t any signs of foul play in the room. No signs of struggle.”  Satan hummed in thought. “MC is a human with no particular means of defense. They’re weak enough awake,” a spark of wrath flared behind Satan’s eyes as he clenched his jaw. “I imagine that asleep, they wouldn’t even have the chance to become fully conscious before a demon, even a lesser demon, could knock them out.”  Lucifer growled lowly. “We’ll find whoever did this, get MC back, and make the perpetrators responsible for this regret their very existence.”  In that moment, the brothers had never appeared more frightening or demonic, as the room filled with eyes glowing with the promise of death, snarls of anger at the knowledge that someone dared to touch what belonged to them. In that moment, they truly were the Lords of the Devildom. Satan grinned a wide, murderous grin, “It seems, for once, we agree, Big Brother.”  *** You peacefully continued to gather the flowers and mushrooms that Solomon had pointed out to you and verified were “safe for human contact” as the mid day sun beamed lazily through the tree branches of the forest.  You quietly hummed to yourself and glanced occasionally over at Solomon who was collecting some of the more dangerous samples to observe later on.  You smiled at the wizard. It wasn’t often you got to see him so relaxed. It seemed like every time you saw him, he was prepared for at least ten different scenarios and was weaving the strings of manipulation before his victim could even blink.  But out here, where there were no prying eyes and no other tasks to follow, Solomon looked open and the most human that you’ve ever seen him.  “You really like it out here, huh?”  He glanced back at you with a raised eyebrow, and made quick work of putting his current sample into a storage bottle. “And how did you come to that conclusion?”  You rolled your eyes and went back to picking mushrooms as you spoke. “I just mean that you seem so calm and...loose out here. Like you’ve finally dropped that act that you always put on and are finally allowed to be yourself.”  Solomon was silent as he looked at you with a strange glint in his eyes. As after a moment or two, he smirked and chuckled softly as he looked away. “For a human with no magical talents, I have to applaud your skills of observation. I think I can understand how it was you, and only you, that was able to see through the brothers as you have.”  You shrugged and attempted to hide the blush dusting over your cheeks. “It’s nothing. I just want to-”  You cut yourself off as a low growl fills the air not far from you. You slowly look up to see what appears to be a mix of a bear, a rat, and a skeleton, standing only a few meters from you. It’s beady red eyes were glaring directly at you. Your breath caught in your throat as you froze, “S-Solomon?”  “MC, listen very carefully. What’s in front of you is an Iacis Rat. They are extremely hostile, and considering their hibernation period has just ended, I imagine they are very hungry. I need you to back up very slowly and carefully. Avert your eyes, and hunch low to seem unthreatening. Keep it in your peripheral vision,” his voice was low and calm but firm with a sense of urgency. You took a shaky breath and slowly began to do as Solomon instructed. You got five steps in before you heard something snap beneath your foot.  The giant rat let out a horrendous roar that you could feel vibrate in your bones as it suddenly swiped at you. Your cry of pain pierced the air as it sliced open your arm and threw you back several feet. Another snap; only this time it was the fragile bones in your other arm breaking, not a stick.  You could hear Solomon shouting a series of spells, before he quickly scooped you up and began to run. You whimpered as he picked you up and jostled your arm. “We’ll get that taken care of in a minute MC, for now, we need to run.” You glance over his shoulder and see the rat surrounded by a series of warding walls and swatting at a few crackling balls of arcane energy that prodded at it and flew around its head.  The two of you managed to get away. You found yourself sitting on near a cliff, panting heavily as you looked out on a view of all the Devildom, with the sun just beginning to set. It would’ve been beautiful if you weren’t bleeding and in pain.  Solomon crouched beside you and inspected the gash on your arm and your broken bones the moment he had deemed that you were both safe once more. After a few silent moments of observation, he had set up a small fire and began to brew some kind of potion. You watched closely as he worked, and within an few, agony filled minutes the wizard was holding out a small cup to you.  “I am so sorry you got injured. In all honesty, I had forgotten about the Icais Rats post-hibernation season, and foolishly believed that we would be safe today,” He sighed and shook his head. “Regardless, this potion should heal all the injuries on your person. Though I should warn you, this will hurt...quite a lot actually. You can hold my hand during the process if you’d like.”  You took a shaky breath and took his hand into yours. The wizard smiled softly at you and pressed a kiss to your fingers before handing you the potion. “Whenever you’re ready.”  You eyed the red liquid in the cup before bringing it to your lips. Before you could change your mind you quickly downed the potion and squeezed tightly onto Solomon’s hand.  You tensed waiting for the pain to kick in... but nothing happened.  You frowned and looked over at Solomon. “I don’t feel any worse than I did before. Are you sure this thing-”  You were cut off as a fiery hot pain suddenly shot down both your arms and your head began to throb. Your loud piercing scream could be heard all throughout the forest as the pain began to overwhelm you.  Solomon pulled you into his lap, and held you tightly with one hand as the other ran his fingers through your hair. “I know,” he whispered softly through your screams. “It’ll be over soon. Just a couple minutes. You can do this MC. It’ll be alright.”  You sobbed as waves of pain hit you over and over again, until a sudden cool, sweet, numbness began to trickle over you. A gasp escaped from you as you stilled in Solomon’s arms.  The wizard chuckled, “Growing back your bones isn’t very fun. I’m sorry you had to go through that. You should be feeling better now.”  You looked down at your arms, and sure enough, the gash on your arm was gone with no sign of it having ever existed and the bones in your other arm had mended. You sniffed and wiped away the tears that had begun to appear in your eyes and looked over to Solomon. “Can you take me back to the House now? I think I’d like to take a nap.”  He smiled sadly at you. “Of course.”  *** A loud agonized scream rang off the walls of the House of Lamentation, causing Belphegore and Satan to grin. Their victim hung by their hands, chained to a wall while they slowly carved into its flesh.  “You know neither of us are exactly known for a patience...” Belphie drawled as he slowly brought a claw down across the lower demon’s chest. “So this is your last chance; Tell us where MC is.” The demon sobbed openly as it shook it’s head. “I’m telling you! I don’t know where they are! I swear! Please, let me go! Please, I don’t know anything!”  Satan tsked as he polished a knife and approached the demon. “Really? Because I know for a fact that you have been following them around and watching them at RAD lately,” he points the knife against the demon’s throat. “You wanted them, didn’t you? You were figuring out their routine so that you could take them for yourself. Admit it!”  The poor demon sobbed even louder as it’s body trembled. “No! I admit, I-I was following them around! But not because I wanted to- to- kidnap them or anything! I swear! I-” the demon’s face turned red, “I find them attractive and I-I was trying to work up the nerve to talk to them! That’s all!” It made eye contact with Satan, it’s expression pained and desperate. “Surely you guys understand that! I-I mean all of you brothers like them, right? That’s why you’re always following them-”  The demon didn’t get a chance to finish before Belphegore growled and snapped the demon’s neck. Satan rose an eyebrow at his younger brother, causing Belphie to shrug in response. “He didn’t have anything we needed, and was just babbling. It was annoying.”  Satan rolled his eyes and looked back at Lucifer, who stood in the back of the room, going over stacks of papers, maps, and occasionally checking his D.D.D. “Another dead end.”  The eldest brother scowled and crossed something out on a piece of paper. “Right. That’s it for possibilities at RAD then. We should start with the list of possible suspects from The Fall and the people Mammon’s indebted to then. They’ll be harder to get a hold of, but some of them would definitely have a strong motive.” Just as he finished, the House doors swung open and Mammon and Levi came marching in with the angels in tow. “We got them,” Mammon stated the obvious as he unnecessarily pushed the two in front of him. “They’d just gotten back from RAD. We haven’t told them anything yet.”  Simeon gasped at the sight of the tortured demon still hanging dead on the wall in front of them, and quickly drew Luke against him, hiding the younger angel from the sight. He glared over at Lucifer. “What is the meaning of all of this?”  Lucifer ignored the question and frowned when he noticed there was only two out of the three exchange students. “Where’s Solomon?”  “Chihuahua says that he’s been gone all day gathering ingredients for some potion. Based off of the stuff missing from his room, and the feed from the security cameras, it checks out,” Levi explained.  “Luke is not a chihuahua!” Simeon loudly defended, surprising all the demons in the room, as the little angel hugged himself closer to Simeon. The elder celestial scowled at everyone. “Now will someone please explain to us exactly what is going on and why you all are acting like a bunch of mindless, feral, demons, when we all know you are more intelligent and civilized than that!” Lucifer gave him a flat look as he crossed his arms over his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut of by a hiss of pain as a sharp, agonizing, burn suddenly swiped over his upper right arm. Not too long after, an even stronger twinge filled his entire left arm. A quick look around the room told him that his brothers were feeling the same thing; meaning this could only be one thing: MC was hurt.  Mammon snarled as he grabbed the front of Simeon’s robes. “Look, we ain’t got time to mess around. MC’s been taken, and is currently being hurt. That’s all ya need to know. What we need to know is if you got any ideas in that feathery, “holier-than-thou”, brain of yours who might’a took them or where they are! If ya can’t help us, than ya useless, and you can just get the hell outta our way while we actually do something about it!”  Simeon’s eyes widened as he felt Luke stiffen against him. The elder angel glanced over Mammon to Lucifer, “MC is missing? For how long?”  The second-born growled and harshly shoved the angel away from him. “Did ya not hear anything I just said?! We ain’t got time for stupid questions! Now do ya know where they are or not?!” The angel opened his mouth to speak, when Lucifer’s ring tone suddenly cut him off. The demon quickly snatched it up and put the call on speaker. “Asmo, report. Any sign?”  “Beel and I didn’t have any luck downtown, so we were headed back to House. We were passing the woods, when Beel... Beel thinks he’s picked up the scent of MC’s blood. We’re following it now.” Simeon shivered as he felt the demonic power in the room quadruple in strength and could practically feel it’s energy crackling in the air around them. Mammon’s face paled, as the second-born cursed and rushed towards the door. Satan, Leviathan, and Belphegore weren’t far behind him; all four brothers were already shifted into their demon forms. Lucifer’s expression became absolutely murderous as he swung his cloak over his shoulders and moved past the angels to follow his brothers. “Keep track of the scent, and describe to me where you are. We’re all coming to-”  Suddenly, all the brothers cried out in shock and pain, some of the younger ones even stumbling from it, as their bodies felt as though they had been filled with white-hot needles. Even more painful, however, was the distant, familiar, scream that could be heard on the other side of the phone call.  “Th-that’s MC,” Beel grunted out through the pain. As suddenly as it came, the pain vanished as was replaced with a chilling, numbness that filled the demon’s with dread as the screams also ended.  Levi froze and looked around at his brothers. “D-Does that mean...Are they?”  Satan swallowed thickly and shook his head, but there was a hint of uncertainty and fear in his eyes. “No. If they were dead, we’d feel the pacts break. We’d know. R-Right, Lucifer?”  The first born merely scowled and charged forward, leading the group towards the woods. “Let’s go find Beel and Asmo. We’re getting our human back now.”  *** Solomon kept an arm wrapped around you as the two of you slowly made yourr way back down the trail to get home. He watched you carefully, keeping an eye out for any unexpected side-effects of the potion. “You’re sure you’re alright then?”  You smiled weakly at him and nodded. “Yeah. Only side effect I’ve noticed is it’s made me quite tired. Other than that, I’m all better now, thanks to you.” You looked out at the trail ahead of you, “I’m sorry our day had to end on such a bad note.”  The wizard waved a hand in dismissal. “Non-sense. It wasn’t something neither of us could control. Though perhaps I should’ve been more cautious before taking you out here,” he chuckled in thought. “Imagine what the brothers would say if I returned you beaten and broken from a giant rat attack.”  You laughed and shook your head. “I doubt Lucifer would let me leave the House again! If I got hurt, it would be damaging to the program after all.”  Solomon frowned at your words. “Do you truly think that is the only reason why he, or any of the others for that matter, would care if you get injured?”  You shrugged and notably avoided the wizard’s gaze. “What other reason would they have for caring for me? Their the Demon Lords of the Devildom. I’m just MC. A defenseless human with no magical powers and nothing that makes them special.” Solomon stopped walking and grabbed you by the shoulders. He looked down at you with his stern silver eyes as though he was attempting to see straight into your soul. “You are MC. A descendent of the Angel Lilith, Master of all seven of the Avatars of Sin, and one of the kindest most observant individuals I have ever had the great fortune of knowing. You are not just some defenseless human, MC. You are special; and I know the brothers see that too.”  You’re heart fluttered in your chest at his words, as a light warmth filled your chest. You opened your mouth to respond, when suddenly the calm forest air was filled with the sound of the Icais Rat’s roar and several battle cries. The two of you frowned and glanced at each other before cautiously making your way towards the commotion.  There, in the middle of the same field you had been attacked in earlier, was all seven of the demon brothers, decked out in their demon forms, as they viciously brutalized the wild beast, that looked as though it had been killed within the first hit.  Your eyes widened at the sight as you took several panicked steps closer to them. “Woah! Guys! Stop! What are you doing?!”   You flinched back as you were suddenly being looked at by seven sets of manic eyes gleaming with danger. Solomon came up behind you and placed a hand on your shoulder, he began to quietly whisper the beginning of a protection incantation. You gulped and held up your hands defensively. “Easy boys. It’s just me. It’s MC.”  Asmodeus was the first one to fall out of whatever daze the brothers all seemed to be under. His demon form instantly dropped as tears lined his eyes. “MC!!!” He sprinted over to you and was about to pounce, but found himself smacking into an invisible wall as Solomon threw his hand up. The demon rubbed his nose and gaped over at the wizard in shock and betrayal. “Solomon?! You’re the one that took MC?!” The vicious hue that surrounded the brothers while they were attacking quickly returned as they set their sights on the wizard. Lucifer growled, his eyes remaining fixed on the hand that the wizard kept on your shoulder. “I knew we couldn’t trust him. Solomon, we demand that you let MC go, now.”  Your eyes widened as the demons began to surround you in a notably offensive position. You could feel Solomon’s hand tighten on your shoulder as he glared at them. “Not until you all calm down enough, that I feel that I can lower these protective walls without MC being maimed to death.”  Levi squawked in offense. “Us hurt them?! You’re the one that kidnapped and tortured them!!!”  “Wait what?!” You and Solomon exclaimed in sync.  You shoved Solomon’s hand off your shoulder and stood between the wizard and the demons. “Alright, everyone calm down for a minute. I think there’s been a big misunderstanding. Why do you think that Solomon kidnapped and tortured me? That’s insane!”  Satan eyed you analytically. “He’s probably given them a potion to manipulate their memories to make them think they’ve come willingly and have them be more submissive,” a few growls filled the air from the statement.  Mammon moved as close to you as he could with the invisible wall still up, and looked at you desperately. “MC, you’ve been drugged. But we’re gonna get ya home! Solomon broke in through your window this mornin’ and took ya from us. We know that he’s hurt ya, but we’re not gonna let him hurt ya any more,” his eyes hardened as they shifted to Solomon. “That’s a promise.”  Solomon sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t do any of that! Earlier this week, I invited MC to accompany me today as I gathered ingredients to give them a chance to see more of the Devildom. They agreed and came with me this morning.”  You nodded and held up a bag of mushrooms as proof. “Exactly. We’ve just been out here exploring the woods all day. That’s all.”  Belphegore raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Then how come you didn’t tell us, or leave a note? Why was your window open and your phone left behind?”  You’re eyes widened as you felt your stomach drop in realization. “Oh, boys, I am so sorry. I completely forgot! We left so early that I was a bit out of it, and I must have forgotten to make a note. I figured there wouldn’t be any reception in the woods, and I had Solomon there with me for protection, so I didn’t take my phone. I promise this really is just a misunderstanding.”  Belphie’s eyes narrowed, clearly still not fully buying the story. “And the window?”  You chuckled and scratched the back of your neck. “It was hot last night. I opened it too cool off. I must have forgotten to close it too,” you could feel guilt course through your heart as the brothers all glanced at each other with caution and uncertainty. “I’m really sorry guys. I promise I’m okay. Really!”  Beel growled lowly as he moved closer to you. “Then what about the blood that we found in the woods? What about the pain we felt you go through? I know that was real! You were hurt MC! Solomon hurt you!” his voice dropped dangerously low on the last line as his eyes began to glow once more and he punched the invisible wall; trying to break it down by sheer force to get to you.  You flinched back, as you realized just how bad this must have seemed to all of them. “We weren’t careful, and we were surprised by that Iacis Rat that you found. It scratched my arm and threw me causing me to break my other arm. Once we got away, Solomon gave me a healing potion, that unfortunately has a pretty painful process,” you looked at Beel sympathetically. “I’m alright, see?” you moved your arms around, and took off your coat to show the undamaged skin on your arms. “No injuries. Just a plain, old, healthy, MC.” You sighed and looked over at the others. “I am so so sorry for worrying you all. I swear I didn’t mean to. If I get Solomon to lower the wall so that I can hug you, do you promise not to attack him?”  There was a notable hesitance in their response as they eyed the two of you and seemed to exchange a silent conversation between one another, before one by one, they all dropped their demon forms.  Taking that as confirmation, Solomon dropped the warding walls, and within moments you were engulfed by the arms of six of the brothers.  “Stupid human” Mammon grumbled and he held you tightly to his chest, “What were ya thinkin’?”  “Don’t ever pull that normie crap again, okay?” Levi nuzzled his face into your hair, blushing deeply. “I-I missed a raid because of you!”  “You’re not allowed to do stuff like that. You had Beel all upset. You know I don’t like it when Beel’s upset.” Belphie muttered, causing Beel to wrap his arms around the group of you tighter.  “You really had us all worried MC,” the gentle giant whispered. “We...We thought you had gotten killed or something. Thought that we lost you.”  “Urgh! All this stress has been terrible for my skin!” Asmodeus complained as he pulled away from the group hug. “You owe me a full spa day, darling. I don’t wait want to hear any arguing about it either, because it’s happening. It’s the least you can do after everything you put us through.”  Satan pulled away in front of you and frowned as he flicked your nose, like an owner would to a misbehaving dog. “Your actions today were reckless. You know the dangers of the Devildom. You should’ve told us where you were going and took your D.D.D with you. Do I need to remind you of just how wrong today could’ve gone even with Solomon by your side?”  Lucifer, standing away from you looked down at you with a carefully drafted gaze of indifference. “We’ll need to make sure that what happened today does not happen again, and ensure that you don’t ‘forget’ basic Devildom safety once more. There will be consequences that we will discuss once we get home. Am I clear?”  Strong waves of guilt, shame, and regret washed over you as each of the brothers spoke. You shivered at Lucifer’s words, and his tone which promised that these consequences would not be pleasant, and nodded in response.  “Good. Let’s get you back home then, shall we?”  As you were to be lead back down the forest path in Levi, Mammon, and Beel’s arms, you glanced over your shoulder and waved at a notably concerned Solomon. “Bye Solomon! Thanks for taking me out today. Next time, we’ll both make the proper preparations and have an even better day, yeah?”  Solomon smiled softly at you and nodded. “That’d be lovely MC. It was great being able to spend the day with just the two of us.” The moment you weren’t looking, the brothers all snapped their glares back at Solomon, causing the wizard to flinch back. The message was clear: he would not be taking you for a day out ever again.  ***This was meant to be just a funny little drabble, but I accidentally went a teeny bit serious with it...woops. Oh well, hope you all enjoyed it! Thanks for reading! Love, B 🐝***
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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years
Text
Little Fox
(C!Fundy x Reader)
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Request 12: Hey if you're making a request, do you do c!Fundy? If so, can I get a Fundy x half fox shapeshifter!reader where fundy finds an injured full fox!reader, and takes her home to patch her up without knowing that she's a shifter ówò? Context, the reader can shift into three forms: full fox, half and half(fox legs, tail, ears, fangs), and fully human. Thank you have a blessed day!!!
Requested By: Anonymous
Moving away from L’manburg or what was once L’manburg was one of the best decisions Fundy has ever made. Did it get lonely from time to time, sure, but at least he was finally at peace. He was away from his ghost of a father and away from the drama of everyone else fighting and the looming sense of death that lingered over everyone that lived in the once-prosperous nation. It was quiet and he was happy to be left alone, well, mostly alone. There was one exception, a snow-white fox that trotted around his house from time to time, curious (e/c) watching him with intent. He had always felt a connection to foxes considering he was part fox, he hated seeing them hurt or starving or treated with disrespect, so he kept them around. However the white fox didn’t seem to pay him any mind other than silently watching and wandering around his home, he started placing food out for the fox. This went on for a few months until one night something felt off. Fundy kept glancing out the window, almost like he was expecting to see someone but no one popped up until he remembered his little buddy. He didn’t know why it sent him so on edge, it was just a random arctic fox maybe it was the way the food was left untouched or the pull he felt to go the woods, but he grabbed his coat and stepped into the forest.
The first thing he noticed was the small animal prints littering the snow, there seemed to be some sort of scuffle. Worry entered his veins and his ears pressed flat against his head, he journeyed deeper into the forest and noticed little droplets of blood. Fundy adjusted his hat nervously and followed the blood droplets, crumpled on the ground in front of his feet was a blood-stained fox. The once pure white coat of the fox was stained with red splotches a big gash was torn from its side, Fundy felt nauseous. The wind seemed to blow against his exposed ears, almost urging him to pick up the fox and take it home. He reached out and picked the fox up in his arms and held it close, the wind blew again, his eyes widened a little in surprise, the wind seemed to whisper a thank you.
Back at the house he laid the fox down on his couch and began to patch up her wounds. Hopefully, she wouldn’t attack him in the morning, be too freaked out, he wrapped the bandages around the wound stopping the flow of blood. He just prayed his foxy friend would be alive come the morning light. Fundy flicked the lights off and went to sleep in his bedroom, even though all the windows were shut and locked tight he still felt that odd breeze tickle the tufts of his ears. ‘Take good care of her’ it seemed to whisper, his heart thudded in his chest as he snuggled under the covers. The morning sun streamed through his windows, blinding the hybrid slightly, he groaned loudly and sat up in bed. He ran his sharp nails through his hair tussling it a little bit, trying to calm the rat’s nest down. As snapped to consciousness fully when he noticed footsteps coming from his living room, very human-sounding footsteps. Fundy tensed and hopped out of bed storming into the room, a dagger in hand. He let out a startled shriek seeing a beautiful half-naked young woman standing in the middle of the room. However, he couldn’t even focus on that, he was more focused on the snow-white fox ears that sat atop her head, the fluffy tail behind her, and the fox-like legs.
She was like him.
“Fundy right?” She sent him a crooked smile, sharp fangs very visible, making him feel all types of things. “Names, (Y/n) and you saved my life last night.”
“You- Fox?! but- human-” His hands tangled in his orange hair mentally trying to come to terms with the fact that he had probably saved a forest spirit. “No shirt!” he sputtered feeling soft hands take his own, he noticed a smile on her lips, their eyes locked together,
“I’m a shifter. A pleasure to officially meet you.” He felt you squeeze his palms and he swallowed thickly,
“Shifter?”
He watched you nod tail swishing from side to side, you were very happy to be talking to him it seemed, Fundy felt oddly honored. “I have three forms! Full fox, half fox, and fully human,” You explained holding up three fingers on your hand. “Usually full fox is easier but as you can see,” You motioned to the bandages covering your chest, “it’s not without risks.”
“Hold the phone you’re telling me the fox I’ve been feeding-”
“Yup! That was me!” You giggled as his cheeks went red, “I appreciated it.”
“I gave you dog food! I’m so sorry, oh my god!” He sputtered out completely mortified by the situation. You let out a roaring laugh, it was very reminiscent of that of a fox but he supposed that, that made sense. He watched you dip your head and nuzzle underneath his chin, once again he felt his entire face burn red, your ears were so soft, the fur tickling his chin.
“It’s okay, I didn’t eat any of that. Just pretended.” You reassured lifting your head to once again meet his eyes. “Soooo...you gonna tell me your name? Or should I just call you handsome?” He felt the blush spread down onto his neck,
Oh no, she was so cute.
“Fundy! I’m Fundy.” He nodded more stiffly than he wanted too suddenly very aware of how close the both of them were to one another. You blinked after a few minutes peaking around his shoulder, oh shit was his tail wagging? A bright smile spread across your cheeks “Laugh it up okay! Not every day I get to have a cute fox girl nuzzle against me alright!” Your ears fell flat against your head, he watched pink spread across your cheeks, score.
“Cute?” You meekly whispered you pulled away a little to grab at your tail shyly, “Thank you.”
He was going to die, you were going to be the death of him.
After that first encounter, you, the real you, had become a staple of his life. You had moved with him a few days after showing your more human form to the hybrid. You knew how to cook which made him swoon, it tasted divine, he was tired of being alone. You made him feel like he still had hope, you were his family now even after only knowing you for such a short amount of time. There was an odd sort of bond the two of you had, he was happy to have someone understand him, on a level that no one has ever been able to before, especially not his father. Days rolled into weeks and weeks turned into months, it was about eight months in when Fundy finally confessed to you.
You’d spent the day away from home, in your full fox form, saying you needed to stretch your legs and Fundy let you go. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a mess all day worrying about your well-being all day, he barely could get anything done, so when he saw your white fur streak through the trees that night he knew you were home. He ran out onto the stones of the path and called out your name, he watched your ears twitch and turned towards him. He felt his tail begin wagging ecstatically and he could see yours begin to do the same, you charged headfirst towards him shifting as you run, as you arrived he held out his arms and you jumped right on in them. He felt your arms wrap around his neck as he lifted you into the air. He spun you around as he laughed,
“I missed you, Dee!” You purred out happily leaning back a little bit in his arms, he still held you above the ground.
“I missed you too Dearheart,” Fundy whispered looking up at your sparkling eyes it was then, with your white fur shining in the moonlight that he realized he was in love with you. “(Y/n)?”
“Hm?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please.” You breathed out softly, cheeks pink, ears twitching, “I’d like that very much.”
So, he did.
Two years being together of being together was finally when Wilbur- or ghostbur- decided to visit his son. You were outside in the garden, tending to some of Fundy’s vegetables deadset on using some of the fresh ones to make soup for tonight. You were in your human form so you didn’t get your white fur covered in dirt, so you didn’t hear the ghost coming close to the house until he was leaning over your shoulder.
“Hello!”
You screamed like a little kit throwing your basket through the ghost who shivered at the foreign feeling.
“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” The ghost apologized adjusting the round glasses on his face. “I heard my son Fundy lives around here but I must be mistaken!”
“Are you...you’re Wilbur aren’t you?”
“Oh! You’ve heard of me! Was it my music, please say yes!” The ghost’s eyes seemed to sparkle with hope, he shrunk a little as he watched you shake your head, “oh…”
“I’m-”
“(Y/n)! I heard you scream, you alright?” Fundy peeked his head out the door eyes going big seeing his dead father standing beside you. Wilbur looked between the both of you before a tiny smirk spread across his face,
“Ohhhhhh, I see now.” Wilbur nodded watching his son’s face go red, “My little champion is all grown up! With a beautiful human to mind you!”
“Er...not exactly.” You mumbled, allowing your ears and tail to pop up from your head, Wilbur’s jaw dropped in shock and awe.
“She’s like you!” Wilbur gaped reaching up to touch your ears, you flinched a little, and Fundy snarled at his father. “Sorry, sorry,” He pulled his hand back with a sheepish smile Fundy finally walked over to the both of you, pushing you behind him only slightly.
“What’re you doing here dad?” His voice was gruffer than you’ve ever heard it, his tail was puffed up in a way you’ve never seen before from your boyfriend.
He was on edge.
Wilbur shuffled a little fumbling with a piece of something blue in his hands. “I just wanted to check up on my son. No one’s heard from you for a while we’re all getting a little worried. I love you so-”
“Dad.” He groaned pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose pinching it, “look. I appreciate you’re all worried but I’m happier here.”
“But you’re all alone out here! It’s not good for anyone’s health, especially not a young fox!”
“Excuse you?” Your eyes narrowed in offense, “I lived out here all my life.” You bristled in frustration, “I turned out fine.” Wilbur eyed you warily and Fundy squeezed your palm tightly, “I did!”
“I didn’t mean any offense. I’m just looking out for my son.”
“No offense but I think he can look after himself just fine.” You shot right back and Fundy covered up a surprised laugh, “So far so good. Plus he’s not alone, I’m with him.” You squeezed Fundy’s hand rather tightly, as Wilbur glanced at your intertwined hands.
“What she said.” Fundy nodded his head, “we have each other and that’s all we need. At least for right now. So try not to worry too much.” He waved his dad off, “Now if you don’t mind we have dinner to cook.” Wilbur gave a hesitant nod before turning back to look into your eyes,
“Don’t hurt him.”
“I don’t plan on it," You assured nodded your head you both had a brief staring contest before Wilbur said his official goodbyes and headed on his way. “I’m sorry,” Fundy watched your ears fall flat against your head.
“What for?” Fundy’s brows furrowed in concern, “He was being an ass, you had every right to defend yourself. Plus I hate him so.” He shrugged unbothered, “I love you though.” He pecked your cheek and you smiled shyly.
“I love you too Dee.” You spoke softly, pulling him close by his jacket, his tail began to wag enthusiastically.
“Kiss?”
“Kiss.” You nodded standing on your tiptoes to give him a long kiss, he purred tangling his fingers through your hair. You pulled away much too soon for his liking and let out a low whine, you giggled happily and peppered his face in light kisses. “Fundy?”
“Hm?”
“Let’s get married.”
“What?”
~~~
Next Up: Immortality and Nymphs Part II
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azaleavi · 3 years
Text
Stranger with a knife - Y.B.
Summary: A stranger disturbs you in the middle of the night. Turns out that stranger might have a thing for knives.
Word count: 2.2k
Warnings: use of knives, blood, alcohol mention, stab wound, mention of knife kink, very brief hint on use of poison
Author’s note: My first ever Yelena fic!! I’m super nervous to post it so please give me feedback! I’ve never written for a female character before but i hope you guys like it!
Feedback is always appreciated and don’t forget to reblog and like if you enjoyed it and want to see more. Thank you!
Masterlist
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It's in the middle of the night when you hear noise coming from outside your front door. It must be the neighbor you think and turn to your other side, away from the door to your room. You look at the digital clock and the bright red numbers tell you that it's just a little past 4 am. You are used to the people living next to you making noise. They always go out partying and they come back around this time so you don't make a fuss about it.
The noise of a few cars passing by on the street flow through the open window with the movement of the curtain caused by the light breeze. It does nothing for the heat that settled inside the four walls, the summer sun not letting go of you even during the night when it's sleeping.
You hear the noise again, like a person grunting just outside your little living space. It must have been some party you smile to yourself, a little jealousy seeping into the curve of your lips. You wanted to go out and party sometimes. Of course, you do, but that kind of time is not something you have.
The noise comes again, not moving an inch away from you and you realize that it's a female voice. You sit up in bed, worried for the mystery woman. She might be in trouble and you could not sleep knowing she might need your help.
Your feet touch the ground beside your bed just as the front door opens. The creaking of the old door echoes through the quiet space as you freeze in your spot, hands on the edge of the mattress ready to push you up to stand. Didn't you lock the door?
You are thankful that your eyes are used to the dark as you stand on shaky legs, trying to be as quiet as possible. Slowly walking to the door you grab the wood to open it just enough to look through the crack. An outline of a smaller figure catches your eyes as she stumbles in and closes the door behind her. At least she has some manners.
She stumbles onto your couch, her hands clutching her side. Landing on the soft cushions with a groan, she turns on her back.
You open the door a little more but stop your movements as it creaks. Damn old doors. She looks up from her stomach that she is still holding and your mouth opens in shock as she locks eyes with you. She has beautiful eyes.
"What-" she starts speaking, but her words fell short as she loses consciousness and falls back onto the couch. In a panic, you walk out the door and turn on the light. The woman has a big red patch on the side of her shirt and you can see her flesh under it as the fabric is cut open.
You pull the shirt away from her wound to check it out and you realize that it's not as bad as it looks. You are not a doctor, but you can tell that she doesn't need stitches. Pushing her shirt up just enough, you go and get some water, a towel, and some bandages. She needs your help no matter how she broke into your house. You clean all the blood away and wrap her in the bandages to the best of your abilities. When you are satisfied with your work you sit down on a chair facing the couch. You know you couldn't sleep with a stranger in your apartment so you decide on watching her. Your tired body has other plans though and you slip into sleep 15 minutes after.
-
The morning sun shines onto your closed eyelids making you stir in your sleep. Realizing what happened you jolt awake, almost falling off the uncomfortable chair you have been sitting on for the past few hours. the woman is still in the same place, passed out. A sigh leaves your lips in relief. You don't know what she would have done to you if she woke up before you.
Your stomach grumbles into the quiet morning air, signaling that the small dinner you had was not enough. After one last check on the woman, you walk into the kitchen to prepare something for you, making a little more than you usually would in case your guest wakes up hungry too.
As you busy yourself with breakfast, you don't notice the woman wake up and look around the unfamiliar place. Felling something around her torso she looks down and sees a bandage neatly wrapped around the wound she sustained last night. Her eyes land on your frame standing by the stove and her training kicks in. Standing up she quietly walks over to the kitchen counter that has knives on it and grabs one.
You feel a presence behind you, but before you can turn around you feel the coldness of the metal pressed to your neck. Your hands stop moving as you gasp. Her other hand goes around your waist and you can't help but grab onto it in panic.
"Who are you?" her accent is thick as it rumbles inside your ear.
"I think I should be the one asking that" your accent is just as prominent yet slightly different and she is taken back for a second. Who are you to talk back to her like this when you have a knife to your neck?
"I asked first" the childish claim is the only thing that comes out of her mouth, her brain unable to think of anything else. You tilt your head slightly as if saying fair.
"I'm the owner of the house you stumbled into in the middle of the night" you don't know where this confidence comes from, but you like it "Your turn" you look at the tiles on the wall ahead of you, trying to make her out in the reflection but it's no use. It's way too blurred to make out any features, but you can feel that she is around the same height as you.
"I'm the person who stumbled into your house" you can basically hear the smirk in her voice and you hold back a groan.
"I'll need a little more than that" you talk back to her and she is surprised once again.
"Well too bad" she lets go of you and you immediately turn around to come face to face with the most attractive woman you have ever seen. You look into her eyes and now it's your turn to be speechless.
"I was right" you mumble as a small smile plays on your lips.
"About what?" she furrows her eyebrows in confusion.
"Your eyes are really pretty" her whole body freezes at the compliment that leaves your mouth. She stares at you for a few seconds then clears her throat and turns away from you.
"So what happened?" she sits down on one of the chairs, keeping the knife close to her hand. Just in case.
"I told you. You walked into my house and bled on my couch" you shrug as you turn off the stove. Taking out two plates you scrape the food into each. She watches as you place one plate in front of her before sitting down on the chair across the table.
"How do I know you didn't put anything in this?" she looks down at it and she has to admit, it smells delicious.
"You'll have to find out" you tease her but immediately regret it as the knife is back under your chin, pressing against your skin almost breaking it.
"I'm starting to think you have a knife kink" your eyes don't leave the blade as you continue to tease her. She scoffs at your comment and pushes the knife harder against you "Okay, okay I'm just kidding" you try to de-escalate the situation as you hold your hands up in surrender. She takes mercy on you and pulls away the knife from your throat. A sigh escapes you as she leans back into her chair, making her smirk under her nose.
"Do you want me to eat from your food too?" you raise your eyebrows but she waves you off.
"I'm not hungry anyway. Do you have some vodka?" she tilts her head that you find oddly adorable.
"Vodka?" you ask back in surprise. Why would she want alcohol early in the morning?
"Yes" she nods like there is nothing wrong with what she is asking for.
"Sure" you shrug, acting nonchalant. If she wants to drink so early then she has another thing coming. You walk to the fridge and pull out a bottle. Trying to shield it from her view, you pour it into a shot glass and turn around to face her. She is sitting there impatiently as you hand the glass to her and she drowns it without thinking. You can see on her face that she was expecting the familiar sting of alcohol. Instead, she got a big shot of water from you. You can barely hide your smile as you see her face drop. She turns to you and you hide your mouth behind your hand.
"Do you think you are funny?" her voice is low as she stands up and you take a step back.
"A little, yes" you scrunch up your nose while nodding. She feels her anger dissipate at the action, but she steels herself.
"Okay then funny girl why don't you tell me your name?" she takes another step closer to you, but you mirror her movement backward.
"You first" your eyes don't leave hers as you play this cat and mouse game.
"I could kill you in a second" she threatens you, but for some reason, you don't budge. Everything you do baffles her and she needs to figure you out.
"If you wanted to kill me you would have done it already" you tilt your head to the side with a small smile. She stops in her tracks as her heart almost skips a beat at the action. Almost. The expression on her face makes you furrow your eyebrows "What?" the question shakes her out of her stupor and she raises her knife once again. She needs to leave right now before she does anything she will regret.
"If you tell anyone that I was here" she steps closer and this time you don't move back "you will die a painful death" you suck in a sharp breath at her words.
"Wait, you are leaving?" there is a slight sadness in your voice that she notices, but chooses to ignore. You don't even know why you want her to stay. She is a stranger that got stabbed and broke into your apartment in the middle of the night. You shouldn't want her to stay.
"I already stayed longer than I should have" she explains as she puts down the knife on the table and walks towards the front door.
It's already open by the time you reach her and you grab her elbow in a hurry. Her hand wraps around your wrist so tightly that it hurts and you hiss as you pull away from her. She mumbles a sorry under her breath as she fully turns back to you.
"I need to-"
"At least tell me your name" you interrupt whatever she wanted to say. Your eyes are wide as you look at her, your voice having a hint of desperation. Her heart beats just a little harder as you stare at her with so much hope in your eyes. A sigh parts her lips as she brings her hand to your cheek. Her palm presses against the soft flesh on your face and you can't help but lean into her touch. You don't know her, but you feel more comfortable around her than you had with anyone in your life.
"Yelena" you didn't even notice that you closed your eyes until it snaps open. Her name. Yelena.
"Yelena" you whisper is like an echo of an empty staircase of her voice and she concludes she likes it. You stare at each other for a few quiet seconds, her hand still on your cheek.
"Don't move away from this place" she lets go of you and leaves you perplexed by her words.
"What?" you ask back. You must have heard her wrong.
She doesn't answer you. Instead, she walks away from you and only throws you a smile over her shoulder. You stand there as she walks down the stairs and disappears from your sight.
Your mind is a mess as you close the door and press your back against it. You don't know anything about her other than her name, but you know one thing. You won't move away from this apartment until a specific blonde woman shows up at your door again. Maybe this time not bleeding.
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butterbeerblurbs · 3 years
Text
morning sighs (what a sight) (f.w.)
💌 : quiet mornings at the burrow are one of the many things fred loves.
he loves it even more with you in it.
📝 word count: 1,169 words / fred weasley x reader / 🌸 morning fluff
💬: no comment :-)
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the sun gently makes its presence known by cascading on the burrows. casting small shadows that slowly grow harsher as the big orange globe rises up and assumes its position to overtake the night, turning it into day. fred remains laying on the couch, tossing around only to frown at the lack of presence that’s supposed to greet him when his arm extends out to the back of the sofa.
he peels his eye open, one by one before groggily sitting up. his face scrunches at the warmth bathing his skin, snapping away from it to look at the kitchen’s direction. a silhouette that moves past the orange light makes him rub his eyes, trying to focus. when he does, his smile only grows wider.
the pair of you had fallen asleep on the sofa instead of the bed in his room due to... late night activities (no, not that kind). let’s just say playing card games can get competitive that it turns into a small wrestling by the fire, which then escalates to an impromptu stroll outside in the night and returning back home all tired. a mutual agreement that the stairs was not worth it and using the couch as an excuse to be closer than you would’ve been on a bed.
fred pushes himself up and stables his weight on the floor with his feet planted on the wood before making his way towards you. he’s certain no one’s awake yet, and taking a quick glance to the clock, the small hand points at six, while the other points to nine. it was a quarter to seven in the morning, of course the household was still asleep. he’d like to get some more sleep as well, but can’t contain himself to at least drag you with him.
before he can though, he’s standing by the doorframe to the kitchen, watching you as you carefully maneuver around the island to make a cup of tea. he stands on his tiptoes to see that ah, she’s making one for me too. grinning, he approaches you and patiently waits as you pour the hot water into the porcelain cups. once the kettle is set aside, he’s unable to resist the urge to snake his arms around your waist, pulling your frame towards him. your gasp is quickly replaced with a sigh of relief, your palms smoothening over the bare of his skin as fred warms you from the back.
“g’morning, love,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple before deciding to rest his head beside yours.
“g’morning freddie,” your voice mirrors his volume, on the same wavelength as it breathes into the tranquil. he takes this moment of silence to gaze into your eyes staring back at him. so pure and just... full of love. fred doesn’t understand and won’t ever comprehend how he got this lucky.
and most certainly, this is one of the memories fred was certain he’d see flashing in front of his eyes before his final breath. the orange glow ever-so-gently kissing your skin, the smell of lavender from your hair brewed with the steaming cuppa english breakfast tea on the counter, accompanied with the sound of your voice humming a soft tune with your nose brushing against his. there was an idle moment where your eyes merely open, under the hooded gaze of sleep wearing heavy on you, freddie still thinks you look absolutely breathtaking as he stares at you like this is a dream... he’d die a happy man if it meant his last day was tomorrow.
he’s interrupted by you when you’re suddenly too far from comfort (mind you, just a step away, still closely pressed to him) as you gently press a cup of warmth to his hands. he gladly accepts it with a murmur of thank you, gorgeous and proceeds to follow your eyes out the window, across the horizon, basking in nature’s morning wake. 
every now and then, however, fred always finds himself staring at you instead. the burrows was beyond beautiful, nature merging together with the place he calls home. but when fred has you in his arms, sipping warm tea, making you smile in the midst of the quiet morning, adding you into the equation created a recipe to take fred’s breath away.
“i love you, freddie,”
ah, there it was. as if he needed to breathe. screw lungs and their function, eh?
“j-jeez, y/n, way to startle a man awake,” he almost chokes on his tea and it makes you chuckle. humor was always the one thing fred knows how to use and when to use. laughing was and if not the thing that fred could switch on from you because... he just thinks you look so pretty when you smile, what more laugh? he’s made it his life goal to make you laugh as much as possible, and he hasn’t failed a single day.
“by the way,” he calls out quietly, earning a soft hm from you as you turn to face him. when you do, his free hand cups your cheek and he drawls you in to press your lips together. initially cold, now warm from the tea that you can taste on fred’s tongue, brewing at dawn. when you lean back to take a breather, fred chases for your lips once more, eliciting a breathy giggle that he swallows with a kiss, and another, and another, and-”freddie! i can’t breathe!”
“see! now we’re even,” he huffs, placing his cup of tea onto the counter and making you do the same. you blow your hair from your face and frown up to him, “and what did i do?”
he smirks, and you almost regret asking (no you don’t).
“taking my breath away,” he wiggles his brows, almost exaggeratingly.
“you’re so silly, fred weasley,” you lightly hit his chest, and he captures your hand after to guide them around him, “yet, i love you more and more,” 
you feel his arms tightening around you as he groans and throws his head back.
“you can’t keep doing this!”
“doing what?” you’re laughing at the way he stomps his foot.
“this! being so god-damned perfect and making my heart do things. merlin, woman! just take my lungs then!”
before you can rebuttal, a voice almost scare the daylight out of both of you.
“i’ll take them if you don’t need it anymore, bloody hell it’s seven in the morning! seven!” ron chastises from a good distance away from the kitchen, currently sitting on the sofa and is now mumbling to himself on the sofa.
“aw, poor ickle ronnikins all worked up?”
“why i oughta-!”
((”ron?”
“yeah?”
“are you still interested in taking’s fred’s lungs?”
the boy narrows his eyes at you, “you’re not actually serious about it, right?”
you only deadpan at him and he clears his throat, “okay, that sounded idiotic,”
“i have an idea for a prank,”
“...you see, this is why i approve of fred being with you.”
“so are you in?”
“am i?!” his excitement is bubbling, inching closer towards you, “i’m all in.”))
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yelenasdog · 3 years
Text
moving out, moving on (mitch rapp x fem reader)
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genre: fluff
summary: mitch and reader are taking another step towards mitch moving on, and it’s bittersweet.
words: 2.2k
warnings: drinking wine, kinda suggestive at times, talks abt katrina, mitch being emotional, my writing being melodramatic LOL
a/n: so. this was written during an all nighter that went to 7 am where i was listening to nicki minaj and eminem (???) for a good duration of it so. i’m very sorry if this is wonky at times! i hope u enjoy either way! mwah 
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The early morning rays streamed through thin fabric, draped above the assassin's window. Dust particles floated about, becoming visible within the section of light cast from the sun. The birds perched outside the small apartment tweeted happily from their branch, their songs beautiful. 
Though, they were quite pesterous to the pair that lay together, wrapped in gray sheets. They reveled in the heat provided by the soft blanket, but even more so by the warmth from their joint bodies.
A mop of dark brown hair stirred, bringing one hand up to softly rub his eyes with his knuckle, the other hand snaking around the waist of the woman peacefully sleeping beside him. He watched with fond eyes as she lightly groaned, rolling to face away from the invasion of bright, turning towards her love. 
Mitch smiled down at her sleepy behavior, reaching out and brushing stray hairs from her forehead. He reluctantly retracted it only moments later, forcing himself out of bed to go and prepare the two of them for their big day as best he knew how: Coffee.
His sock clad feet dragged across the hardwood as he went, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and groggy-ness (a word Y/n had donned as her own, and Mitch had caught on to) still very prevalent in his entire system. 
The Rhode Island air was frigid this time of year, Mitch allowing a grin to break out on his face upon remembrance of two nights previous, just how cold Y/n had been in the arena of the Providence Bruins hockey team. Nose pink, donned in a beanie proudly showing the team's logo, well, he had found himself a new lockscreen.
He shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of said groggy-ness, his body on autopilot as it made the beverages. He picked out her favorite mug from the cupboard (AKA a souvenir from Dubai he had picked up long ago) that she had adopted as her own, drinking out of it every time she would spend the night, almost like clockwork. He waited for his coffee beans to brew, scratching his stubble along his jaw. He flinched, though, when he felt two arms wrap around his middle. He quickly relaxed into the embrace upon realization of who the supposed assailant was, her head finding its way to rest on his bare shoulder.
“You scared me, there.” Mitch muttered, his larger hand inching towards her’s on his waist. He closed his eyes in content and she hummed in acknowledgment. Mitch allowed her to turn his figure to face her, still residing in her arms, seeing a bright smile plastered across her face.
“Only for a minute though, right?”
She laughed to which he chuckled in response, nodding in false surrender. “You’ve got me there, Y/n/n.” He mused, his eyes lighting up at the sound of the coffee machine beeping. He looked back to her, shrugging.
“I made you coffee, was gonna bring it to you in bed but, y’know.” He gestured to where she had now climbed up to sit on top of his counter, his sweatshirt around her that read “Brown University” across the front in large lettering pooling around her thighs.
“It’s alright, I need to get a move on anyway.” She smiled, hopping down to retrieve the mug, taking the warm ceramic from Mitch’s hands and sighing at the wondrous feeling that had spread through her whole body. She lifted it to her lips and drank, not surprised that her boyfriend had made it just the way she liked, to perfection. 
“Thank you, baby.” She commented, reaching up to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. Her lip curled as she pulled away, Mitch already knowing what she was going to say, a laugh bubbling up in his throat.
“Mitch! Go brush your teeth, for the love of God!” She whined, watching as he scampered off towards the bathroom, snickering all the way. She rolled her eyes, downing the rest of her beverage before following where Mitch had gone.
Once in the bathroom after rinsing her and Mitch’s mugs, she tied her hair up, undressing and turning on the water (practically scalding hot, of course). Mitch had no objections to the temperature, though, seeing as it was his last time showering with her in that apartment, and in that apartment, period. 
The whole thing felt very symbolic to Y/n, at least, seeing it as washing themselves clean for the next phase of their lives together, a sort of preparation. (Maybe not so much for Mitch, who really was just pleased for any excuse to see his girlfriend naked.)
They used generous amounts of soap, as not only were most of them nearly empty (in fact, a few were and if it weren’t for Y/n, they probably all would be), but also that they had decided to simply just buy new toiletries as a whole for their new place.
They giggled at the sight of each other, all lathered in bubbles and suds. Mitch reached a finger forward, wiping it from above her eyebrows and preventing it from falling into her eyes. Y/n brought her arms around his neck, her lips connecting with his. “Much better.” She regarded with a smirk, before leaning back in.
Nearly 40 minutes later, they both emerged from the shower, fresh faced and ready for the day ahead. He didn’t have a lot that needed to be packed up, given that his place came fully furnished, so it took all but 2 hours and 5 boxes to pack up Mitch Rapp’s life. It honestly might have taken even longer than originally would have been needed, as Y/n would stop every time she found something interesting, allowing Mitch to tell her all about whatever stories had been connected to the item.
It had started with the ridiculous bird lamp that sat on his bedside table, once belonging to Mr. Nazir, and ended with his lacrosse stick. (And, a promise that one day, he’d show her how to play. He swore he’d never seen her smile that big.)
They also threw away and donated a lot, some of Kat’s old stuff bringing a pained smile to his face as he would place it in a box simply labeled “Kat” in messy, thick letters. He wasn’t sure if the box would end up in his new closet, covered in dust and unopened, or back with her family. But either way, he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to her completely, which Y/n was able to understand.
“Mitch? Did you pack away your coats already?” Y/n called out, opening up the closet near the front door. Her breath slightly hitched in her throat upon seeing all of the photos of Mansur, still pasted to the painted wood, the edges curling up. 
“Nah, not yet, I was gonna handle that while you worked on the cupboards” He responded, busying himself with a text from Irene on his phone wishing him good luck. He looked up and saw what she had been asking about, his phone quickly sliding into his pocket as he made his way over to where she stood, visibly distressed. 
“How long have these been here?” She questioned, feeling Mitch’s arms wrap around her shoulders. She brought her hands up to grasp onto his wrists, leaning backwards into him and biting into her lip.
“Since the beach, when I decided to go after Mansur. When everything happened with the CIA, it was kind of a whirlwind, I didn’t really have enough time to even think about taking it down when I was only even here for hours at a time.” He lightly chuckled, watching as she stepped forward and began to take the pictures down, crumbling them up in her hands. 
She ran her fingertips over the indents left in the door, feeling the splinters against them. She turned back to Mitch, quipping how “Mr. Nazir won’t be too pleased about that.” 
He smiled, joining her in taking all of the images down, ripping them or balling them up in his fists. All of them ended up in one of the old Target bags they had been using for trash, filling up an entire bag (minus a few Dunkin cups sitting at the bottom).
Mitch trailed a few tender kisses down the left side of her next, and though it sounds cheesy, a feeling of hopefulness flooded himself out of most of the bitterness that had been stuck inside for so long. 
She turned her head to catch his lips with her own, and smiled into the kiss, her hand finding the back of his head. She lightly tugged on the chocolate colored strands and he groaned in content, to which her grin only widened. She pulled back, ruffling the top of his head before beginning to pack away the remnants of what was left in the closet. He rolled his eyes, following suit.
They had piled all of the boxes into the back of Mitch’s old decommissioned CIA vehicle (which was obvious that is was such, given that the side was littered with bullet holes and metallic scratches), returned the key to Mr. Nazir (who was glad to see Mitch go), and with that, they were off.
The new place wasn’t too far away, the pair taking a page out of Stan’s book and opting for a wonderful sense of privacy. It was nestled in a rural corner of Massachusetts, where Mitch would be able to come home to a sense of serenity. Y/n had already moved in her possessions, Mitch’s items being the last step. They’d also furnished the cozy cabin, trips to IKEA and Urban Outfitters (along with several other over-priced boutiques) making the place feel like a perfect fit for the couple.
Mitch’s strange and varied knick knacks made the house feel like a home, his lacrosse stick finding a new home by the front door, right under a hanging potted plant that Y/n and Mitch had decided to affectionately name “Charles” after a drunken night watching the X-Men movies. The house was littered in plants such as Charles, in fact, with Mitch’s first response to seeing all of them being “Wow, looks like a greenhouse in here.”
(Still, he’d grown to love the plant babies. Trust me.)
Two tired smiles made their ways to their faces as they both sat on their new sofa, admiring a job well done. Though several boxes still lay on the hardwood, unopened, they felt accomplished enough to pull out a bottle of wine that they had been saving for the occasion. It was an early housewarming gift from Stan, to which they were unprepared to take advantage of, it seemed.
“Baby, did we unpack the wine glasses earlier?” Mitch questioned, his mind slightly foggy of the day's events and early start.
“No, I think they’re still packed up.” She replied, to which Mitch’s eyes lit up, an idea forming and an imaginary lightbulb popping up over his head. He got up from his seat, a wide smile spreading across his face. Her expression mirrored his own, with an added quirked brow at his antics.
“I’ve got a solution, wait here.” Mitch responded, padding over to where he had remembered the new home of the mugs to be. Upon realization of what he was doing, Y/n smiled, rolling her eyes and bringing a hand up to run through her roots.
He shuffled back over moments later, his girlfriend recognizing one of the mugs in his hands as her favorite. He sat down next to her, with the bare skin of her thighs touching his own, jean clad. He bumped his knee to hers with a giggle, pouring out the Pinot Grigio into the mugs. 
She gratefully accepted it as it was handed to her, smiling as she took a sip. Mitch did the same, the two of them leaning back into the soft sofa. Y/n brought her legs up, cuddling into his side and absorbing his warmth. He brought his free hand to her side, a strong hold giving them both a strong sense of comfort as she lay her head on his shoulder.
The box labeled “Kat” remained unpacked along with the others on the floor, dust already beginning to gather. Mitch had come across it a few times that day, each time more thoughtful than the last as he struggled to decide what it was exactly he was feeling towards the objects; or perhaps towards the memory of Katrina.
He had come to realize that it was acceptance he felt, deep in his stomach, settling down. It had been brought upon him in totality over time, today’s events being the final step. A soft smile spread across Mitch’s face, a single tear falling from his eye. Y/n looked up, eyebrows furrowed with worry.
“Mitch, are you alright?”
He leaned down, connecting their lips in a watery yet nectarous kiss, his hand beginning to rub small circles on her shoulder. 
“Yeah, Y/n/n.” 
The fire they had built earlier was roaring, now, casting a warm glow across the pair’s features. The damp trail down his cheek was highlighted, nearly glistening on his skin like an amber. 
“I’m doin’ just fine.”
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ok btw ik that wine in mugs would be a horrible idea but this is fiction so SHUSH
anyway i hope yall enjoyed! i love writing for mitch and i have lots of future fics for him, so if u liked this, please reblog and follow if ya wanna. mwah, go drink water and have some protein <333
 xx hj
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