#i wrote this line in an unfinished fic where she gets out for a night or so because the doctor or nardole didnt lock the door correctly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

djarinbarnes · 3 years

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Silent Night - Bucky Barnes

THIS IS A DARK FIC. IF YOU’RE UNDER 18, PLEASE DNI.

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Author: Dina

Word Count: roughly 15k

Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x innocent(?)!female reader

Warnings: dark!bucky, dark!fic, 18+, loss of virginity, dubcon, noncon (to be safe), smut, age gap (18 and 36), pwp, unprotected sex, male masturbation, abuse of power, anal sex, somnophilia, anal play, toys, drugging, forced oral, spitting, slapping, slight bondage... a whole lot of things.

Summary: Bucky has always put his best friend’s daughter first. She’s like the niece he never had. He’s recently become more and more infatuated with her, and when he sees a window of opportunity, he decides to act upon it.

A/N: Well damn, here it is! This is a long one 😇 Some of you have read this before, but now it has been rewritten and finished ♡

For Kaley, Sab, Gracie and Nahema. I wouldn’t have finished this without you ♡

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Dear diary.

This is the story of how I really lost my virginity. I know that no one is going to see this, but I figured writing about it would make it seem better. Easier.

It’s something I’ve been reluctant to share with anybody until now. A lot of things have happened since I wrote to you last. You’ve heard about this man before.

He’s been my father’s best friend for years. Since they were boys. Best man at my parent’s wedding, there in the waiting room the day I was born, present at every birthday party since then. Giving me presents, treating me with so much love.

Uncle Bucky, as he’d come to be named in our family, had watched me grow up and I was his princess. The niece he never had. He showered me with everything a little girl could wish for. We had secrets. It was just something that was shared between the two of us.

But once I turned eighteen, something changed in Bucky. His fondness of me turned into an obsession. I felt it like a pendulum changing its magnetic attraction point. Every time he was over at our house, he would become distracted.

I’ve known all along what made him distracted. It was something I reveled in. But he knew he couldn’t do anything while my dad was around. So, he came up with a plan to get me alone.

Friday, 3:21pm

Going away with Bucky for the weekend as a graduation present seemed like everything she had hoped for. She would finally be free from her parents, even if it was only a weekend. She made her way around her room cheerily, throwing some random pieces of clothing along with her bathing suit, a towel and some toiletries into her bag, feeling her stomach jump slightly.

When Bucky had given her a weekend getaway to his lake house as a graduation present last week, she had been overjoyed. Finally, she had the chance to feel a little bit alive, since her parents hadn’t let her celebrate graduation with her classmates.

A gift from your favorite uncle! Had been scrawled into the card in Bucky's messy handwriting. She just knew he’d been standing at the florists, greasy hands stuffed in his pockets, nervously buying 18 red roses for her. Bucky had always made sure she had everything. He was her dad's coolest friend, and he would spoil her as much as he could.

It hadn't taken a lot of persuasion from her side to let her parents agree to hang out with Bucky for a weekend. He'd babysat her before when she was younger, but it was different now that she’d turned 18. The rules they had set were minimum, but they were there. No drinking, no nothing they wouldn’t do. A little more loose than usual, but she appreciated it, nonetheless.

Her parents, Steve and Peggy, had grown uptight over the last few years, and everything was about keeping her safe and keeping boys away from her. There was always an excuse as to why she couldn’t go to a party or why she couldn’t go on a date with Peter, the guy she had been studying with at school.

Peter was a good kid; she knew that much. He never tried anything with her, and always held back when she would flirt with him during their study sessions at the library. Even that one time she’d tried to hold his hand, he’d shrugged her off and excused himself for the day.

She never figured out why he didn’t want her affection, but she found out soon after, when she saw him kiss his best friend just after the graduation ceremony. It’d hurt – a lot – but she figured it was for the better. A day didn’t even pass before she was laughing at her obliviousness.

This year, when she’d finally turned 18, she’d hoped that everything would settle down with her parents and they’d loosen the restraints on her, but she was wrong. Apparently now, there was even more reason for keeping her home and away from boys. She figured they were afraid of her getting knocked up or something along the lines of that.

The only man she’d see on a regular basis out of school was Uncle Bucky. He and her father would always be working on their motorcycles in front of the garage, and she would watch them from her window on the first floor. She’d found her window to be a great place to keep an eye on them – on him.

She knew that Bucky worked out a lot and put a lot of effort into looking good on a daily basis, but there was just something captivating about him when his hands were covered in grease, strands of his hair falling from the half bun at the back of his head, the sweat glistening on his skin in the sun. He was attractive. And very much so.

If he was only ten years younger and not her father’s best friend, she would’ve been more than interested in him. Well, she was interested… But she knew that her father wouldn’t ever allow something like it, let alone… No. It just wasn’t happening.

Detaching herself from her train off thoughts and zipping up her weekend bag, she heard a car honk from the driveway. She made her way over to the window and a smile spread across her face as she saw Bucky’s sleek, black convertible pull up. She hurried over to her bag, making sure she had everything before nearly jumping down the stairs to get out of the house.

“Bye dad! Bye mom!” she yelled just as she pushed open the door, making her way to Bucky who was now leaning against the hood of his car. When he noticed her approaching, he pushed his body off the hood and opened his arms for her, letting her run into his warm embrace with a giggle. A muttered hi was shared between the two of them before he pulled away, walking around the hood to open the car door for her.

Giving her bag to Bucky before he shut the passenger door made her stomach flutter slightly. She hears the trunk opening and closing, and when he slides into the driver’s seat beside her and pulls out of the driveway, he's already telling jokes and making her laugh.

It was gonna be a fun weekend, she expected that much. She had great plans.

Friday, 4:02pm

Arriving at his lake house had her eyes widening. It was like a whole new house. There had been added an extension to the main house since she was here last summer, and the front porch had been painted white. Bucky parked the car, and she threw open the door of the car, getting out in one fluid motion.

"Wow! This is amazing Bucky!" she smiled at him as they both ventured up the stairs to his front porch. Bucky unlocked the door and they both stepped into the house. She’s taken aback once again.

"This is so much neater than the last time I was here!"

The whole place has been fully renovated, and there's newer, modern furniture complimenting the freshly painted walls. She admires the giant painting on the furthest wall and remembers the unfinished canvas that had been sitting untouched in one of her parent’s rooms last year.

“He finished it.” She smiled and stepped closer to it, admiring the thick, colorful paint strokes upon the black background. She heard Bucky’s footsteps behind her, trailing back through his house.

"Check out the view." She hears Bucky's voice from somewhere in the kitchen. She places her bag on one of the chairs in the living room, walking over to the glass sliding doors that lead out to the back garden, and she bursts out into a smile.

The lake you once had to walk through trees to get to, is now visible from where she’s standing. The belt of trees has been cut down, and the trunks has been dug up. She could see further than ever. She could even see the water supply tower that showed where the city began. If she squinted, she could see her parents’ backyard.

"This is incredible! I wish we lived here," she sighed and turned to find Bucky standing in the doorway. If she’d known of the way Bucky’s heart had thumped in his chest at her revelation, her smile would fall immediately. She internally begged to whomever, that Bucky hadn’t noticed her say we. Instead, he spoke up about something else.

"You still have to see the new amenities." A smile tugged on Bucky's lips.

"What amenities?" He knew she’d love what he’d installed for her, and only her. She’d talked about it for weeks on end the past five summers, and during the winter he’d finally found the time and materials to fulfill her dreams.

"The pool." his eyes glinted with something near mischief. Her eyes widened along with her smile.

"You have a pool? That's amazing!" Just the reaction he’d hoped for. He loved it when she lit up like fairy lights, her eyes filling with glee. It made his heartbeat faster in his chest.

"Did you bring your suit?" she didn't know if she heard it right, but it seemed that his voice had dropped an octave. She nodded as she grabbed her bikini out of her bag, making her way to the newly renovated bathroom to change.

Bucky watched her as she with a giggle made her way through his house, her arms wrapped around her form to shield her nakedness from the older man, who subtly tried to not look at her. “You’re not joining me?” her innocent voice filled his ears and he shut his eyes tightly before turning just a bit away from her.

“No, I’ve got some things to do. Maybe later.” His eyes quickly came up as he heard the sliding door open, watching her ass as she made her way from the patio door to the point where she descended the built-in stairs into the newly built pool.

He felt his cock twitch in his pants, the sight of her in her skimpy purple bikini was making the blood flow to his cock at an undeniable speed. He watched as her shoulders shuddered before she dived under water, her perky ass just caressing the surface from below.

He clenched his jaw before turning on his heel, the image of her half naked body burned into his retina. He needed to get it out of his system, and he needed to do it fast. He knew that there was no way he would ever forget what he had just seen, but either way he had to do something about the situation in his pants.

Making his way into the bathroom nearest the pool, he quickly unbuckled his pants and shoved both them and his underwear down to his thighs. His cock sprung free, slapping against his stomach, hard and proud and he spat into his hand before gripping it tightly, letting out a strangled groan.

"Fuck yes, god you're such a fucking tease..." his head rolled back as he moved his hand, keeping a tight grip around the shaft, imagining her lithe body taking his cock, all of his cock. “Bet you know what you’re doing to me. Bet you know how I feel about you.” His last words were followed by a groan.

The veins pulsated beneath his fingers as he let his head fall forward and he opened his eyes, watching as he fucked into his hand. He saw her body before him, drenched in the cool water of the pool, goosebumps rising on her skin, and he let out another strangled groan, god, he was so close.

It was unlike any time he’d ever jerked off to the vision of her. It was intensified – by powers he didn’t know where from. Maybe it was from her being close. So close he could reach out and claim her as his – just like he’d always wanted to.

He felt the well-known tightening in this scrotum, this time so powerful they drove tears to his eyes. God – he wanted her so badly it hurt. Yet, he had to restrain himself for the time being, he thought, as the movements of his hand picking up speed and he sucked in a breath just as he felt the surge of euphoria overcome him, and-

"Oh my god, Bucky I'm so sorry!"

Friday, 4:43pm

The air that hits her when she emerges from the water is cold. She’s shivering as she throws her arms around herself, making her way up the stairs and inside the house.

She has no idea where Bucky went, so light on her toes, arms trying to warm her torso, she makes her way to the nearest bathroom to take a warm shower. Her teeth are clattering, her frame littered with goosebumps as she trod lightly through the slightly warmer house.

She stops on one foot when she hears a sound, a sound that resembles a moan an awful lot. It can’t be. She approaches the half-open door cautiously, thinking her next move over at least a thousand times before she finally gives in and pushes the door open wider, making her halt completely.

There, in all his glory is Bucky, touching himself for whomever may have walked in to see. That whomever being her. She lets out a shriek before turning her back to him. “Oh my god, Bucky I’m so sorry!” She squeezes her eyes shut tightly, the embarrassment warming up her body quickly as she hears a rustling of clothes behind her.

She silently prays that he isn’t mad at her for walking in on such an intimate moment for him. It lit something inside of her, though, seeing him all hot and bothered for her. Everything that she’s ever imagined about him was definitely an understatement. She hears his footsteps behind her and soon after the heat radiating off his chest against her back, before he speaks up.

“Don’t worry about it,” His voice is so deep she can barely recognize it. “The bathroom is all yours.”

She locks eyes with him as he walks past her, his pupils blown wide like she’s never seen them before. She wraps her arms tighter around herself, trying to cover up from his prying eyes. She nods her head slightly before turning on her heel, walking into the bathroom.

She makes sure the door is locked behind her before she strips herself of her bikini, making sure to hang them to dry on the small, heated towel rack, before finding a towel under the sink where he usually keeps them.

The shower she takes is as long as it usually would take, only now her thoughts are occupied with flashes of Bucky touching himself. Why was he touching himself? Her mind wanders to who the reason could be. She knew he’d had a girlfriend named Natasha once – she was beautiful and had lips like the fullest, reddest cherry – she looked like every man’s wet dream.

She also knew from photos that he’d had a long-time girlfriend in high school through college named Dot – brunette and curvy and with the prettiest facial features she’d ever laid her eyes upon – all the women she had known Bucky to date were so beautiful, he could only think of either them or some hot porn stars he’d probably seen online.

But why now while she was here? Her eyes rolled back as she let out a whimper, her fingers gliding between her smooth, velvet lips, the vision of his hand gliding along the smooth skin of his cock letting her imagination run wild.

Her eyes went wide when she realized what she was doing, and she quickly retracted her fingers from where she now felt a certain warmth spread. She let out a deep sigh as she rested her head against the wall of the shower, the warm water still cascading down her back, heating her freezing limbs.

She finished her shower reluctantly before drying herself off, groaning inwardly as she realized she’d forgotten to bring clean panties and even clean clothes with her to the bathroom in the furry of awkward seconds between her and Bucky. She went over the possibilities she had in her head before searching the bathroom, letting out a small yes! when she found one of Bucky’s clean shirts in one of the small cabinets.

Thinking he didn’t mind, she slipped it over her head and vowed to herself to apologize to him when she saw him next. The shirt felt way too comfortable than it should have, and it instantly warmed her torso, before she pulled it down as far as it would go, just below the apex of her thighs.

She let out a sigh before unlocking the door, listening for a few second to hear where Bucky was located in the house. She heard the washing machine click open and she closed her eyes with another sigh, leaving the safe perimeters where she wouldn’t face embarrassment.

Tiptoeing through the hallway, she made her way into the living room to locate her bag. It felt so wrong to walk around Bucky’s house sin panties. She hears steel clashing in the laundry room, startling her. She lets out a small huff of air before pulling out a pair of lace panties from her bag, before sliding them on under the long shirt.

She’s shuffling through her bag when she’s once again startled by Bucky, this time by his voice.

“You’re wearing my shirt.” She whips around quickly with a small yelp, lace bra and t-shirt in hand. Her eyes widen as she realizes what she’s holding, quickly swinging her hands behind her back to hide the garments. He sees them, though, and it relights his fire even more vigorously than before.

“Shit, Bucky.” She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding as she relaxed under his intense stare. “I’m sorry, I’d forgotten to bring clean clothes with me to the bathroom. I’ll go change right now.” she turns back to her bag to find a pair of pants, laying the garments already in her hand on the couch.

She tenses when she feels a body behind her; a set of hands sliding up her hips, thumbs tracing the outline of her panties over the fabric of her-Bucky’s shirt. She knows his eyes are watching her like a vulture, taking in her legs extending from where his shirt stops, surely imagining what’s hidden underneath. Her breaths come out shaky and she gulps down the lump that has formed in her throat before her eyes flutter closed.

His nose finds its way into her hair, inhaling deeply before exhaling again, his fingers now venturing under the shirt she’s wearing. She feels some kind of warmth spreading where his fingertips graze her skin, just over the fabric of her panties resting on her hip. It’s like his fingers are fire and her hips are timbers – only waiting to be alighted.

“You know…” his voice is still low, just as it was when she encountered him in the bathroom. “I’ve been having a hard time ignoring the looks you’ve sent me.” His fingers slide smoothly from her hip to the middle of her abdomen, slowly tracing small, imaginary circles on her stomach. She shudders under his touch as it brings warmth into her core, and she’s biting her lip to keep a whimper from escaping them.

Bucky was right. She couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be? He was handsome, funny and so undeniably nice. She wasn’t sure that the attraction she’d felt towards Bucky for the past few years was reciprocated. She was definitely sure now, that his fingertips we’re playing with the hem of her panties.

“Bucky…” Her eyes flutter open as her hand clasps over his, halting his movements from traveling further south. She turns in his arms, facing him, finally taking in his lust blown eyes, his parted lips and the light blush adorning his cheeks. He looks angelic. Young. It makes her heart leap in her chest.

“Tell me you don’t feel it. Tell me this isn’t just something I’m imagining.” His half-lidded eyes search hers in an attempt to ground himself. His right arm comes around her middle to pull her closer, her hands coming up to lay against his chest. She feels the arousal radiating off him. Warmth, and a little further south, hardness.

“Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll stop.” His face nears hers, and she feels her heart hammering in her chest. Her breath hitches in her throat when she feels his lips caress hers gently. Just a small graze of soft skin against soft skin, his stubble tickling her chin and his hand tightening its hold on her shirt.

It’s cliché to say that she feels fireworks as his lips grazes hers – maybe from the fact that she’s closer to any man other than her father for the first time, or that she’s just been kissed for the first time. The whole thing is making her head spin, and in that moment, she knows what she has to do.

“We can’t. Not yet,” She breathes out, letting her eyes flutter shut. She feels his warm breath fanning over her lips, the arm around her waist going slack and a deep sigh emitting from Bucky’s throat. He was just about to pull away from her when she grips his shirt in her hands.

“I’m sorry Bucky. I just… You’re my dad’s best friend. I could never look him in the eyes again if we…” she trails off, the embarrassment overcoming her. She looks up at him, eyes glossy from the whirlwind of feelings clashing inside of her. “I’ve never… He’s so strict. I’m sorry if I led you on in any way. I’m not used to male attention.”

Bucky lets out a heartless laugh, taking a step back and brushing her hands off him as if their encounter had never happened. His actions confuse her. He surely must have seen the emotional turmoil she just went through?

“You want burger for dinner? I bought this sauce that’s great with the minced beef.” He turns on his heel and leaves the room without saying anything else. Her brows furrows at his behavior. What the fuck just happened? He leaves her dumbfounded in the living room, her confused eyes following his back until he disappears behind a wall.

In the kitchen, Bucky has pulled out everything he needed to make dinner. His jaw tightens as he goes over her refusal yet again. She’s never what? was his first thought. Then all the pieces clicked when she’d said the next sentence. I’m not used to male attention.

Of course, he knew that she had never been with a guy, let alone a man. Her father told him more than enough, and it made a sinister smile spread along his face, as another branch in his plans takes form.

He will get what he wants.

Friday, 6:32pm

She had expected dinner to be an awkward affair. For her it certainly was – but it seemed like nothing had happened just a few hours before on Bucky’s account. He appeared completely unfazed by his previous actions, and it made her shudder, sitting across from him, picking at her burger. She hears his cutlery hit the plate and her eyes shoot up, seeing the empty plate where his burger had been resting less than five minutes prior.

“So, I’m thinking we have some things to talk about.” His voice startles her, since they had eaten in almost complete silence, the only sound during dinner was the cutlery and chewing.

“What things?” she felt nervous as the words left her mouth, letting her gaze fall back to the burger on her plate. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. She’d been cooped up in his study since their encounter in the living room, not ready to face him until she had to.

“Firstly, what happened in the bathroom.” Her eyes shot up, his eyes looking directly into hers. Her mouth falls open, before closing again. She feels the blush creeping up into her cheeks. “I find it only fair that you’ve seen me masturbate, and I you, seeing that you did touch yourself in the shower.”

Her eyes widen impossibly more, a lump forming in her throat as she took in his words. “You… You watched me?” She blinked before her eyes sought to her burger yet again, the embarrassment becoming too much. How he had noticed her, was a mystery. Surely, she’d heard him leave, but she hadn’t heard him return. Maybe she was caught up in her thoughts… But she was quiet. Wasn’t she? Was there something he wasn’t-

“I heard you through the door, darling. You’re very loud. You know that, right?” She lets out a shaky breath before standing from her seat, backing a few steps from the table, into the living room. She watches as Bucky rises from his seat as well, following her as she tried to make the space bigger between the two of them.

Bucky looks at her longingly. He had to admit she looked breathtaking, even though she was scared and angry. There was a slight twinkle in her eye though, one of which could be a hope to escape whatever he had in store for her. It dawned on Bucky, that she probably had no idea what he had planned to do to her, and he smirked when her eyes darted around, not being able to focus on anything.

“What is you want from me, Bucky?” Her voice was shaking when she finally spoke. He shook his head with a slight laugh. She must have known by now. He basically told her everything in the living room. Confessed his feelings for her. Admitting without words.

“Oh baby… You’re still so innocent.” Her back hit the wall of his living room, her breath hitching in her throat. He came impossibly closer, caging her up against the wall. “Come on now… We tried this the easy way. Give into me.”

His hand tangled in her hair before he buried his nose in it, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo. With a hand tightly fisting her hair, the other found its way under her shirt. She let out a sob as she felt the cup give into Bucky’s pull, the soft flesh of her breast spilling out of the cup.

“Bucky please…” She tried to reason, trying to turn away from his grasp. She felt his hand leave her hair to hold her throat as the hand under her shirt it made its way down her torso, popping the button of her pants.

She froze as his fingers slid into her panties, her eyes widening in surprise. It surprised her that the hold on her neck had the effect on her it did – it scared her as well.

“What are you- no!” she cried out as she felt one of his fingers burying itself into her entrance. Another digit joined the first shortly after, making her gasp. Bucky had her trapped, and he enjoyed it. His hand left her throat and found her cheek, stroking a fallen tear away lovingly while he pushed his fingers deeper into her, his thumb grazing her clit roughly.

“I’ll make you feel good. I promise, baby.” His fingers picked up the pace as she felt a coil tighten in her stomach. She tried to fight the pleasure that was forced upon her, the tears falling from her eyes freely by now. She felt the coil snap, and with a cry she came around Bucky’s fingers reluctantly. Her cunt clenching around his fingers felt like heaven, and at that moment, he was sure this was what heaven felt like.

“Such a good girl. You like that, huh baby?” His breath fanned over her face, the air coming off as cold on her drying cheeks. She shook her head with a sob, sucking in a breath through her nose, even though she desperately wanted to agree.

She felt Bucky retract his fingers from her panties, bringing them to his lips before sucking them into his mouth. Watching his fingers covered in her slick disappearing between his lips made her heart hammer impossibly harder in her chest.

“So goddamn sweet. Like honey, darling. You’re just hiding this sweet pussy, huh?” His filthy words take her aback, and her mouth falls open in shock. She doesn’t know what to say. Baffled, she barely feels when he lifts her by the thighs, carrying her into his bedroom, where he throws her on the bed. As her back collides with his soft covers, she’s finally pulled out of the trance.

“Bucky…” her voice is quivering as his hands tug her pants down her legs, goosebumps rising as she feels his stubble against her thighs, her calves, her feet. His lips trace their way up the inside of her legs, her eyes widening again as she realizes what he’s doing now.

“Bucky, please, don’t!” she whimpers, but to no avail. Bucky buries his nose into her mound, inhaling her scent, just as the words leave her mouth. She whimpers when she realized it feels good, even though it shouldn’t.

“Such a lovely girl… Such a lovely pussy…” His words unsettle her, making her stomach twist. She tries to push at his head with her hands, whining as she feels his teeth nip at her clit. He can feel her panicking underneath him, and it makes him smile.

She feels the fabric tighten against her skin before she hears it tear, and shortly after his mouth latches onto her clit. She silently sobs out, arms and legs thrashing about. His hands push up her legs, at the same time collecting her hands in his, tightening his hold on her. She feels the ability to move becoming harder, and she sobs again out as his tongue flicks her clit harshly.

“Stay still, darling… Or this will get worse.” Her eyes widen as she takes in his words. Worse? What could be worse than this? She was unable to kick him, unable to slap him. She was unable to push him away, unable to stop him from invading her body.

In her haze, she barely registers her climax building before it hits her, making her cry out as ecstasy takes over her body. The muscles in her legs tighten around him, her whole body shaking from the earth-shattering orgasm unlike anything she’s ever felt before. Her mind is in a haze so deep, she could barely tell right from wrong anymore.

Having Bucky in between her legs felt so right, like the two of them fit together as puzzle pieces. At the same time, she knew it was wrong – so wrong. She felt herself thrash around from her oversensitivity; her mind completely detached from her body. Her gaze fell to where Bucky was placed between her legs, and she let out a moan at how sinful he appeared, his pupils blown wide, and a wide grin plastered on his face.

She shivered at the feral look in his eyes as he peppered kisses up her stomach, pushing up her shirt and pulling down her bra, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth. She let out a wanton moan, for a short moment forgetting the situation. His lip around her perked nipples is making her pussy gush with want. She watches as he pulls his shirt over his head, baring his muscular torso to her prying eyes.

“Gonna make you feel so good, baby.” He breathes out against her skin, goosebumps rising on her skin where his breath had hit. “You’re not gonna want any other man than me when I’m done with you.” She feels his hands working in between her legs, her senses kicking in when she realizes his hands are working on unbuttoning his pants.

Tears start streaming down her face again, her head thrashing around, whimpers leaving her mouth as fear takes over her body for real. Her hands come to rest against his shoulders, trying to push him away. “Bucky, please…” she whimpers, trying to restrain him from taking her most sacred possession from her, but to no avail.

With one swift thrust he pushes inside of her. She shuts her eyes tightly, the pain unimaginable. There’s a soaring pain in between her legs, with Bucky’s cock stretching her ever so painfully. She realizes he’s stopped moving, letting her body adjust to him as her walls pulsed around his throbbing member. Whimpers are leaving her mouth, short puffs of breaths landing against the skin of his pectoral muscle.

Bucky smirks triumphantly down at her. Knowing he had been her first stirred something inside him. A sob escaped her as she started to cry audibly, his hands sliding down her sides to grasp her hips in his hands. He locks her legs around his waist, driving himself deeper into her, his thrusts hard and pace increasing. He watches her face through half-lidded eyes, soft groans falling from his lips.

Her walls were milking him, her body begging for him to come. He buries his face into the crook of her shoulder as his thrusts picks up the pace further, uncontrollable and with no rhythm at all. He’s thrusting into her most sensitive spot, earning a few moans from her lips before she’s coming undone around him, her body trembling as her walls convulsed around Bucky’s cock, tears streaming down her cheeks. She feels Bucky burying himself deeply inside her before he’s coming right after her with a load groan.

His hair is tickling her nose – she can smell his scent – pine, fresh air, Bucky. It suddenly felt alright. A sense of calm washes over her, the sense of familiarity making her relax slightly. As she feels him shift on top of her, her mind goes back into freeze mode, her eyes widening as he lifts his torso off hers. The two of them were still connected.

Bucky found her scent intoxicating, and he knew she weren’t done yet. He wasn’t done yet. Her expression turned into fear, unlike anything Bucky had seen before. “Baby, don’t look at me like that…” His voice was sulky, as if he didn’t deserve to attend to her fear.

“We’re nowhere near done yet.”

Fear surged through her body as the words fell from his lips. She didn’t want this. Not again. She wanted to cry and scream for him to stop. She had spilled so many tears already, and her screaming had left her throat dry and hoarse.

“Please Bucky…” Her body was tired, and she was emotionally drained. He shifted on top of her, his hands grasping her ankles and flipping her over before lifting her hips, bringing her to her hands and knees. He got on his knees behind her, just as she pushed her face into the bedsheets, letting out a sob as his hands brushed their way up the skin of her back.

“God you’re so delicate. Like a petal of the most exquisite rose.” She felt his breath on her butt cheeks. She let out a sob, realizing how close he actually was to her most private area. She felt his teeth bite into her left cheek and heard him let out a hum of appreciation.

“So good for me, huh baby?” The sob she let out just seconds before had escalated into full on crying – only lacking tears since she was so tired. She’s begging him to let her go, to stop for now, but she knew he wouldn’t listen. She felt his hands grab at her waist roughly, positioning himself and plunging back inside of her used cunt.

It didn’t even sound like she was screaming. Maybe all it was, was a weak screech and she quickly gave up, letting him have his way with her overly sensitive body. She was still wet – her come and his mixing together inside of her. Bucky used it as makeshift lube, sliding into her easily. Her hands turned into fists as she realized his hold on her hips would make it impossible for her to wiggle away from him.

A soft yelp left her lips as the newfound position made his thrusts seem impossibly deeper. She could hear Bucky hum behind her, compliment her as he took her, letting her know how pleased he was to finally have her. She tried to cancel out the sound of their bodies meeting – wet and slick sounds of his cock plunging its way deeply inside of her, and she gasped as she felt him get rougher again.

He slammed into her, groaning for her to follow him, to come with him, making her cry out. Bucky hit her cervix repeatedly, painfully, again and again until she came a fourth time, her body pulling and clenching around him, begging him to let go, and he came yet again with a loud groan.

He stroked her back lovingly as he almost collapsed against her back, her legs quivering underneath the weight of their bodies. It took Bucky a while to remove himself from her, but when he did, he didn’t hesitate to clean her up thoroughly, making sure she was perfect for him.

“Come on darling, roll over for me.” Bucky commanded, and she simply let out a deep breath and moaned. She couldn’t do it. She didn’t have the strength and the will anymore. All she wanted to do was to hide away from the world. From Bucky.

“Roll over for me.” He said again, this time punctuating all four words, rolling his eyes as she let out a whine in protest. He ended up grabbing her waist and turning her over himself, laying her down before laying down himself and pulling her into his arms.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” his hands slid down the curve of her waist, fingers drawing imaginary circles on her hipbone. She let out a huff before hiding her face in his neck, feeling her eyes wet with tears yet again. They slid down her cheek and landed in the crevice of his collarbone, pooling among droplets of sweat from their sex.

“You did so good, darling. I’m so proud of you.” A wracked sob left her at his words. She felt him bury his nose into her hair, his lips peppering kisses onto her scalp as he softly shushed her, his arms gently rocking her as he let her cry.

“It’s all gonna be okay darling, I’ll take care of you.” With that, she fell into a dreamless slumber.

Saturday, 9:21am

Bucky watched her as the soft morning sun peeked through his curtains, which wasn’t drawn the whole way. Her eyelashes laid softly against her rosy cheeks; her eyelids still puffy from the crying she did last night. His eyes studied her face calmly before traveling down her naked, uncovered body, his head propped up on his arm, his temple laying against his fist.

His eyes fell on her breasts, admiring her perked nipples and the small stretchmarks pointing to the rosy bud. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, his fingers reaching out to graze the soft skin under her breast. His hand made its way down the curve of her waist, pushing down the covers laying against her skin.

As her navel was revealed, Bucky felt his cock twitch. Images from last night of her body underneath him filled his mind, how good she felt around his cock, how deliciously sinful her moans had filled his ears, how fucking good her slick tasted on his tongue… He was definitely in deep.

How she managed to calm herself down after more than two hours of crying and sobbing through what he had forced upon her, to now look more peaceful and beautiful as ever blew his mind. Her eyelids fluttered before she shifted slightly, her hand coming up to rub at her eyes.

He didn’t fight the want to stroke at her hair, so that’s what he did. He lifted his hand and pushed a strand behind her ear, his thumb stroking her cheekbone afterwards. To Bucky’s surprise she leaned into his touch, a small smile tugging at her lips.

It dawned on him that she, at this moment, wasn’t awake enough to remember what had transpired last night. She stretched her arms in front of her, hands landing against Bucky’s shoulder and pectoral muscles, and her eyes fluttered open quickly as she withdrew her hands hurriedly.

“Bucky?” her voice quivered before her bottom lip started wobbling – her face twisting with realization. Her eyes widened at her undressed state, not fully covered by the covers, and she yanked the fabric up to cover her breasts while sitting up slightly.

“Morning beautiful.” He watched as her muscles tensed before she relaxed slightly. Her lips move on their own accord as she whispers out a morning. “How are you feeling?” His hand came out to grasp hers, and she lets him take it.

“A little bit sore…” his thumb grazes over the back of her hand and she watches it as it slides over the skin, tracing the path of the veins trailing underneath the flesh. “I uh…” She bites her lip as she twists her hand in his, grasping his hands in hers.

“Mhm, what is it darling? Don’t go being all shy on me now” He watched her hand in his, feeling his heart jump slightly, feeling some sort of domestication by looking at her. The words that left her mouth shortly after took him by surprise.

“Can I see it?” she sucked her lip back between her teeth before she let out a giggle. “Your cock?”

Bucky’s mouth fell open at her choice of words before he let the covers slide down his body slowly, revealing his semi-hard cock to her. The sight of it made her inhale sharply, taking in the size of it. She realized she had barely seen it the previous day in the bathroom, since it looked even bigger now. Was that really inside of her last night? Bucky felt a smile tug on his lips as he watched her face, contorted in admiration.

“You can touch it… Come on, I’ll show you how.” He watches as she bites her lip, before the hand that was holding hers tugged her hand down to his cock. She shifts closer to him as her fingers graze over the length of his cock, before gripping the base softly, nimble fingers wrapping around his girth.

His cock is heavy and warm in her hand, pulsing beneath her fingers. It somehow makes her mouth water, and she feels a sudden urge to do more than just jerk Bucky off. She doesn’t give into the temptation though, deciding that this should be enough for now. She hears Bucky suck in a breath as he watches her.

“Just like that, move your hand up and down slowly, maybe tighten your grip a little bit… when you get to the head…” She did as he told her, watching as her fingers pulls the foreskin down, before coming back up to the head of his cock. Her head whips around as she hears a groan leave his lips.

His eyes were hooded, watching her movements, eyes scanning over her body, before coming up to her face. “God you’re beautiful…” She tightened her hand further, quickening her movements. She looked into his eyes and held his gaze as she pumped his cock. There was something in his eyes – she couldn’t quite place what she saw. She watched as his brows furrowed, his eyes fluttering closed, his breath coming out heavier and another groan spilling from his lips.

She twisted her head just as she felt his cock tense in her hand, watching the way white ropes of cum landing against the skin of his stomach, some pooling into his bellybutton, along with another strangled groan falling from his lips. Her lips tugged into a smile, his hand coming up to grasp the back of her neck, pulling her into a deep, heavy kiss.

She felt the same feeling as she did just under a day earlier, when he had kissed her in the living room. Sparks flying, undeniably. As her lips parted from his, he smiled. His eyes scanned over her reddened cheeks before trailing over her lips, pulling back from her to give her space.

“What would you like for breakfast, baby?” The words were softly spoken, and she smiled as he sat up slightly, awaiting your answer. She shrugged her shoulders lightly, not really sure if she was in the mood to eat something. Her stomach was still a bit uneasy from the events of yesterday, but she managed to get out the word smoothie, along with her best doe-eyes.

After Bucky rolled out of bed and left his bedroom to clean himself up and make her breakfast, she let out a celebratory sigh and fell back against one of his pillows. She hoped that her efforts in seeming interested in his actions would help, so he wouldn’t force her into things she didn’t want.

She leaned over the edge of the bed and grabbed the discarded shirt, pulling it over her head. She quietly padded over to her bag, pulling the whole bag into her arms and walking to the bathroom, before locking herself in. She stepped into the shower stall, turning the water on and twisting the handle, feeling the water getting warmer and warmer, up until the point where it was scalding her skin.

She whimpered before fully submerging herself underneath the searing water, scrubbing the insides of her thighs violently until she felt the skin grow sore and sensitive. She sobbed out as her fingers came into contact with her sensitive folds, washing away the remains of what Bucky had done to her the night before.

Just as she thought of him, she felt her heart drop in her chest when she heard a knock on the bathroom door. She hadn’t even heard him approaching, and now he was just outside the door. She silently begged that he wouldn’t speak or ask her for anything, but it seemed like luck wasn’t on her side today either.

“Baby, breakfast’s ready.” She felt the goosebumps of disgust run down her back, even though the water was still burning her skin. Just the sound of his voice made her uncomfortable, made her guts turn uncomfortably in her stomach, which made her regret once again ever coming here with him in the first place.

“Baby?” He knocked again, making her heart clench in her chest before she answered him quietly that she was almost done, before she turned off the water, rubbing her body roughly with one of the towels laid out in one of the cabinets.

“Just a second.” She took a look in the mirror and gasped as she noticed the bruises littering her neck, arms, stomach, thighs. She had no idea how she was going to hide them from her parents. She scrambled through her bag, pulling out as many covering pieces of clothing she could possibly muster before covering up her body.

Saturday, 10:08am

When she entered the kitchen, the delicious smell of pancakes filled her nostrils and she sighed in content. She took in the table – Bucky had placed all of her favorite fruits in separate bowls and made her a smoothie. The pancakes were even chocolate chip. She felt both agitated and sure of herself, until the second she sat down.

“So, I was really your first, huh?” Was the first question that left Bucky, a smirk plastered on his face. She felt the redness fill her cheeks before she nodded, not really wanting to engage in a conversation with him. She grabbed a handful of blueberries, stuffing them into her mouth and chewing on the sweet fruits.

“You know… The way your body reacted to how I fucked you… How you moaned… Cried out my name… How your tight pussy strangled my cock…” Bucky smirked as he grabbed his cup of coffee, bringing it to his lips before blowing on the surface, gently. “Could get used to that.”

She felt her heart pick up its pace in her chest, hammering against her ribcage as she sat stiff with her hands in her lap, too embarrassed to look at him. She fought her embarrassment though and looked up to where he was sitting through her lashes – he was exploring his molars with his tongue with his eyebrow cocked, watching her. Smug son of a bitch.

“You shouldn’t be so nervous, darling. Dig in! I made everything you asked for while you were hiding in my bathroom. You could at least appreciate the effort.”

Her eyes shot down, not wanting to meet his. The tone in his voice made her shiver. She reluctantly reached out and grabbed the smoothie off the table, bringing the straw to her lips before sucking the sweet fluid into her mouth. The taste of strawberry and blackberry lingered on her tastebuds, along with a tangy flavor she had trouble placing. She looked up at Bucky again.

“Bucky… I think I would like to go home today.” She shivered as she thought about what happened last night. What could happen again. She feared it would. She took another sip of the smoothie followed by another, and placed it on the table, truly hoping Bucky would give in and let her go.

She was wrong.

His smile was wide as he watched her drink more than half of the smoothie, just waiting for the triazolam to take its toll on her nervous system. He knew the pills for his incurable insomnia would come in handy someday, and he mentally high fived himself as he noticed her getting groggier.

“This should solve your sleeping problem, Mr. Barnes. I wouldn’t normally advise for this, but if you’re in need of a faster effect, crush them into some water and ingest it shortly before going to bed.”

And that was exactly what Bucky had done when making her smoothie. The remains of the white powder in the porcelain mortar resting in the sink was the only evidence of his scheme at this point. He had everything planned – down to the last detail. Everything he had to do by the time she would wake up from her pill-induced sleep.

“You know, darling, there’s so much I want to show you. To teach you.” Bucky slowly got out of his chair, picking a few fruits from the bowls, before chucking them into his mouth. “That’s why I need you to stay here, with me. Until we die.”

“Bucky, I… what’s happening?” she looked up at him with fearful eyes, her sight blurring Bucky into a blob of dark and fair tones before returning back to being clear as day. “I’m scared. Please.”

“You’re gonna sleep for a little bit,” he crouched down beside her chair and her eyes widened as her brain caught up with what her ears were hearing. “But I’ll make sure to take good care of you while you’re sleeping, I promise.” She felt his hand wipe a stray piece of hair from her face, pushing it behind her ear before he placed a kiss on her cheek.

Everything went black before her eyes, and her head landed heavily in Bucky’s hands. He watched as her eyes rolled around in her head, unable to focus on anything before finally falling closed, a sigh escaping her lips.

Bucky lifted her out of the chair gently, admiring her soft features before walking her to his bedroom. Her soft breathing was warm against his neck as he held her in his arms, one of the only things letting her know she was still sentient. He laid her on the bed carefully before beginning to rid her of all the clothes she had hidden herself in.

“Oh, you silly girl… Trying to hide from me. Trying to get me to let you go…” he carefully tugged down her jeans, throwing them on the floor. He lifted her leg off the bed, placing a kiss on top of her foot. His eyes follow the length of her legs, all the way up her body. Her beautiful body. “I’ll never let you go. You’re mine now.”

Saturday, ?

She let out a small groan before turning on to her back – or so she thought. Her eyes flew open before she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes – or tried to. She groggily looked up at her hand and let out a gasp when she found it fixated to the bedpost. She whipped her head around and found the other fastened likewise, letting out a tiny whimper.

She clenched her fists, giving the restraints another tug but to no avail. She lifted her head slightly, looking around, and let out another whimper when she noticed she was in Bucky’s bedroom yet again. She shivered when she heard his voice, coming from behind her.

“So, you’re finally awake. Took you long enough, darling.” she gasped when she felt his fingers slide through her folds and into her wet cunt. It felt different than the last time he did it, though. Like something was in the way. It felt good, though.

“You know, it’s actually quite impressive how the human body reacts to arousing touch. I’ve been toying with your clit for more than an hour, drawing a few orgasms from you and you’re still just as responsive… So, I wanted to try something new.”

She gasped when she felt his fingers swirl themselves inside her and then against the back of her tight cunt. Her eyes widened as her mind suddenly cleared itself enough for her to feel the expansion of her tight ring of muscle. She struggled to move her legs, giving up when she realized they were tied to the foot of the bed, spread wide.

“For someone who was a virgin in both holes just yesterday, I have to say I’m impressed. It’s like your pussy was made for my cock… I can’t wait to fuck this tight ass of yours… To see if it’s just as good as your cunt.”

Her eyes widened as she felt his hand leave the warmth of her pussy, swirling around the gem of the butt plug seated snugly within her tight rim. She gasped loudly when she felt Bucky slowly retracting the plug, not letting the widest part pass the rim before pushing the plug back in. She let out a wanton moan as it fell back into place.

“I’m gonna fuck your pussy while this plug is filling you up, and then I’m gonna fuck your tight ass…” She heard Bucky slide down the mattress before his lips found her soaking cunt, emitting a loud moan from her. Her mind was still hazy from her slumber, she struggled with finding the words for a few moments. “Yeah, you like that?”

“Bucky…” she whimpered weakly as a surge of pleasure shot through her veins. “Please don’t, Buck…” She had trouble focusing on anything, she wasn’t sure where Bucky’s lips lingered anymore. She registered the rip of a foil packet, and just after, she felt the thickness of Bucky’s cock filling her slick pussy to the limit.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl…” Bucky moans loudly as he bottoms out, the pressure from the plug in her ass straining against his cock. He leans down and peppers a string of kisses on her cheek, admiring her as her mouth hung open, short puffs of breaths pushing their way past her plump lips.

Her eyes are shut tightly, her eyebrows drawing a thin line between pleasure and pain. As of that moment, he can’t tell which is which. Tears are slowly framing her eyes, though still not giving the emotion away.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, and Bucky bites his lips to restrain himself, but the intoxicating way her pussy grasps his cock tightly, the sweet pink gem resting just above his cock has his mind spiraling into pleasure. He grabs her hips and thrusts into her harshly, pushing the tears out of her eyes and the cries out of her mouth with every thrust.

His hips slam against hers within a few thrusts, and it’s making her see stars. His cock is grazing her most sensitive places with every thrust, and everything seems to blacken before her eyes as hot floods shoot through her veins, her orgasm so intense her whole body is shaking.

She herself doesn’t know whether it was in pleasure or in pain either, but it was definitely something in between. She had never felt a feeling so indescribably enormous; she had never felt so full. She whimpered when Bucky pulled himself out of her, eyes widening as she came back to herself, feeling the plug being retracted slowly.

“I can’t hold back darling, fuck you make it so hard…” she gasped when the plug slid out easily, whimpering as she felt liquid smear against her fluttering, sensitive ring of muscle, the coolness slithering down between her sensitive lips, staining the mattress below her.

She bites her lip harshly as she feels the tip of Bucky’s cock prod against her tightening rim. It was a whole other feeling than the plug. Where the plug was cold and somewhat hard, Bucky’s cock was warm, wide and rigid. She clenches her jaw as his cock breaches her, the sting unlike anything she had ever felt before.

“Come on baby, let me hear you…” Bucky gritted through his teeth, just beside her ear. She clenches her jaw even tighter, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of letting him hear the effect he had on her. The breaths she sucked in through her nose were uneven and ragged, the pain caused by his cock almost unbearable.

“Fucking relax, baby… You’re just making it harder for yourself…” She didn’t know how deep he was inside of her and she didn’t wanna know either. She had never felt dirtier than she did in this exact moment, and she shut her eyes tightly, wishing herself invisible. She felt his hands grasp a butt cheek each, before spreading them apart, thrusting his hips, slowly entering her deeper.

“That’s it baby…” she whined as she felt his hips still against hers, his pelvis resting snugly between her spread cheeks. His mouth found her ear and she whimpered as the next words that left his lips sunk in. “Such a good slut for me, taking all of my cock in her tight ass…”

His hand moved around her hip, squeezing itself between her body and the mattress, sliding down in between her legs where her soaking pussy had been abandoned. His fingers swirled around the bundle of nerves, the small jolts of his thrusts mixing with the pleasure from his fingers pushing her over the edge.

She let out a scream as she came around his cock, her ass gripping him tighter than he had ever felt before in his life. Out of all the women he had ever fucked, she was by far the tightest he had ever experienced. Her whole body shook beneath him, hands tightly fisting the bedsheets as her ass strangled his cock, begging for him to release his seed within.

Bucky’s cock felt so massive as she tried to come down from her startling high, the jolts of her body seemingly calming down slightly. “Bucky please… You’re too big, I can’t…” she cried out as her oversensitivity took over, trying to push the foreign intrusion out. His movements stung against her sore ring of muscle, making her wail further.

Bucky ignored her pleas and pushed his hips tighter against hers before retracting himself halfway, pushing in again. He groaned into her ear as he fucked her ass, showing her no mercy as he searched for his own release. He cursed out as he found the angle unable to grant him what he so desperately longed for.

He untied her right leg first, followed by the left before bringing her knees under her body, to fuck her in his favorite position. She whined as he pulled out of her ass completely, before leaning down to lick a firm stripe through her folds. She didn’t know how he managed to make her feel as dirty as he did, but it was amplified even further when he spat at her ass.

He cursed behind her at the sight of her, and shortly after she felt another wet dollop of lube slither between her cheeks. He easily slid his cock back into her ass, sighing out as her warmth once again engulfed his cock completely. He was never, ever going to let her go. Not when she could make him feel like this by just fucking her.

His release came just as quickly as she had hoped. Within three more strokes, he buried himself to the hilt, bit her earlobe harshly and spilled himself into the condom. She felt the pulsing of the convulsions in his cock more prominently in her ass, and she distracted herself from the pain by counting every spurt of his cum that landed within the latex with every jerk of his cock.

“Good girl.” He whispered as he gripped around his cock, securing the condom before pulling out of her, slowly. She whimpered as he left her body, and he groaned at the sight of her ring of muscle fluttering and contracting around nothing.

Bucky slid off the bed after pulling the condom off, tying the end and left for the bathroom. She felt a tear escape her eye as she pushed her legs back to lie flat before lifting her head, turning it to look in the direction of the bathroom. Bucky emerged with a damp towel, in all his naked glory, walking over to her with a victorious smirk.

“You did so good my darling… Such a good obedient girl for her daddy.” He talked sweet nonsense as he cleaned between her legs. She hissed as the damp cloth came in contact with her swollen ass, and again when he swiped it between her folds, gathering her slick. “Have you changed your mind yet, darling? Or do I need to teach you another lesson?”

She looked up at him with wide eyes, sucking her lip in between her teeth. “Changed my mind about what?”

She felt a hard slap on her butt. “Don’t play dumb, baby. It’s not a good look on you. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She whimpers as his hand grazes along the angry, red protrusion of the skin where his hand had landed.

“Please, I want to go home Bucky.” She whimpered, closing her eyes as she felt the tears flow freely from her eyes. She felt another harsh slap against har already sensitive skin, then another.

“Wrong answer.”

“Bucky you can’t keep me locked up here forever!” She cried out, tugging on the restraints again, with what little power she had left after what he had just put her through, and the grogginess from the drugs, still in her system. Bucky leaned all the way into her ear, whispering out yet another sinister thing, that made her whole body crumble in fear.

“If that’s what it takes.”

He left her then, only pulling the sheet over her ass to cover her private parts. She didn’t know how long she spent in his bed, tied up like some animal. She could hear him somewhere in the house, humming along to some tune playing on the radio, which she couldn’t make out.

She was getting cold, falling asleep sporadically along with goosebumps rising on her skin as silent tears slid down her cheeks into the pillow. She felt exposed and used. Used by a man she trusted with her life. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She imagined that she could’ve been wrapped up in her comforter at home, watching some boring Netflix series instead of laying tied up here.

She felt scared. Even more scared than she’d felt just after Bucky had violated her for the first time. She’d never felt so helpless before, and it made her even more scared of what Bucky would do to her if he got the chance. It was getting dark out, and she knew that it would either improve or deteriorate her chances of escaping. She didn’t know where to escape to, though.

She knew she had to get out of his house as soon as possible. She knew she had to get in contact with her parents somehow, despite the fact that she didn’t want to anymore. She didn’t know where her phone had ended up in all of this mess, but she knew Bucky usually slept with his by the bed. Either she could wait for that opportunity, or she could try to escape.

She wiggled her toes slightly, trying to get some of the blood down there again. She twisted her knees slightly, trying to pull them up under her again. She thanked the heavens that she was flexible when she managed to pull her right knee up under her, followed by the other.

She slowly rose to her knees, sitting back on her ass. She looked towards the door, cracked open slightly. The faint smell of something cooking filled her nostrils and she heard her stomach rumbling. She had no recollection of when she last had something to eat.

It was this morning, that much she knew. But she didn’t know what time it was by now. How long she’d been out, how long he’d been in the bedroom with her, how long she’d been laying there alone.

She took in the expert knots that had her hands tied to the headboard, reminding her that her dad and Bucky had served in the military together, and that they both had some knowledge about rope and knots. They’d even taught her some, so she could easily make out which one he’d tied her up with.

The double constrictor knot tied twice on both her wrists made her eyes fill with tears yet again. There was no way she would be able to pull the knots open with her teeth. Yet she found herself trying. And… on top of that, she really needed to pee.

She examined the knot before slowly making out the placement of the ends and where they were cut off. She reached forward and trapped one loop in between her teeth, pulling slightly. She sighed happily when she felt it give in, and she pulled one end through easily. Way too easily.

She repeated the action one more time, pulling the end over and through on the other side, one knot coming completely undone. She nodded at herself when the first rope fell to the pillow under her, making everything seem a little bit easier.

Three more to go.

She prayed that Bucky didn’t make an appearance, otherwise she’d be fucked. She leaned forward and examined the next knot on the same wrist, leaning forward when she located the end of it.

She winced when the ropes on the wrist she wasn’t working on tugged the rash on her skin even deeper. She needed to get out of there, and she needed to get out of there now. Panic settled in her stomach when she heard footsteps from somewhere in the house, tears spilling out of her eyes yet again.

“Come on, come on…” the knot finally gave in and she breathed out in relief, grinning slightly when her fingers started loosening the knots on her other wrist. She was so close to freeing her wrist, so close to relief from emptying her bladder… So close to escaping from Bucky.

“Baby…” She instantly freezes when she hears his voice from the door. “What are you doing?” She lets out a breath, feeling the tears re-wetting the paths on her cheeks that had dried earlier. Her cheeks redden, embarrassed that he’s caught her.

“Bucky, I…” she starts, turning her head slowly to look at him. He’s standing in the doorway with a tray of food for her, for them. How had she not noticed the amazing smell filling the room much earlier? How long had he even been standing there? She was so caught up in escaping she hadn’t even heard him.

She’s not sure whether the words that leave her mouth are just plain stupid or smart. Either way, his eyes soften just a bit when she speaks. “I just really have to pee.” She watches as he puts down the tray on his bedside table before he leans forward, loosening the remaining knots.

“Why didn’t you just call for me, baby? I would’ve come and helped you so you wouldn’t tear your lips like that.” His thumb grazes her lip, making her wince slightly. She hadn’t noticed the skin being mangled from the roughness of the rope. “Jesus baby, you look awful.”

She winces again when his fingers glide over her cheekbone, before they help her loosen the last knots around her wrists. She slides off the bed with a whimpering thank you, her legs slightly unstable as she staggers her way to the bathroom. She shuts the door softly before finally getting the relief she’s been craving.

Once finished, she tries for the small window in the bathroom. She knows she isn’t going to fit through, but she’s trying anyway. The window doesn’t budge, even when all laches are off and clattering against the glass. She knows Bucky can hear her from the bedroom, but at this point she doesn’t care.

“Come on. Dinner is ready.” His voice is just on the other side of the door, letting her know just how close he was. By the looks of it, there was no way she was ever going to be left alone again. Her foot slipped from her getting dizzy when she stepped on the bathmat to wash her hands, causing her to let out a yelp.

The door was yanked open just as she steadied herself against the marble countertop, catching Bucky’s eyes in the mirror when she looked up. Traces of nervousness swirled in his eyes, and she wondered why. “Jesus, I thought you hurt yourself, baby.”

He watched her every move as she washed her hands, dried them off before throwing them around her body, shielding her still naked body from him. He observed the way goosebumps littered her arms and legs, making his heart clench in his chest. He swiftly manhandled her into a t-shirt, before handing her a pair of panties.

He watched as she slid them on weakly, before grabbing her hand and leading her back to the bed. “Come on,” he spoke softly, as he sat her down and placed the tray in front of her, urging her to eat by bringing a forkful of food to her lips. “You need your strength.” She squeezed her lips together, not fully trusting him with her food since the incident this morning.

“Don’t worry.” He grabbed her hand, his thumb sliding over the soft skin, “It’s just food this time. No drugs.” She looked up at him doe-eyed, desperately trying to just have him leave her. She purses her lips again. “I trust you, baby.”

“I’m not hungry.” She whispered out, pulling her hand from his gently before scooting back just a bit on the bed, to get further away from him. Her stomach grumbled in that moment, letting him know how much of a lie that was. She was starving.

He grabs her jaw, forcing her lips apart before shoving the food in between them. “You eat when I tell you to eat.” He’s somewhat grumpy, it’s easy to see. There’s a glint remorse in his eyes, but she doesn’t believe that he regrets anything he’s put her through. She chews languidly, all while her eyes are trained on her hands in her lap.

“Am I going to have to force feed you, or will you eat on your own accord? Because I don’t care what you choose.” She looks up at him and watches as he scoops another dollop of food onto the fork, bringing it to her lips. She carefully swallows the food already in her mouth before opening up for him to feed her. “Good girl.”

It continues like that, with Bucky taking a few bites in between feeding her. It makes her calm to see him eat from the same portion of food as her, letting her know that he was telling the truth when he made her eat the first bite. No drugs.

He brings the straw resting in a glass of water to her lips after setting the plate back on the tray. She eyes his hands, inspecting the glass intensely. He sighs and rolls his eyes yet understanding her actions. He knows she’s afraid of him, he knows she doesn’t trust her right now.

He brings the straw to his own lips and sucks the cold fluid into his mouth before swallowing, letting her know that the water was safe to ingest as well. She exhales slowly before taking the glass from him, emptying it in one go. She was truly thirsty.

“What time is it?” she tries softly, afraid that Bucky thought she didn’t need to know, since he had no plans of ever letting her go. She’s looking for any sign indicating that he’s carrying his phone. He eyes her for a while, his eyes squinting for just a moment. She looked breathtaking as she sat there, fiddling her fingers.

“Why do you want to know?” She knew it. He’s still watching her, trying to look through her, into her head to figure out what she’s thinking. She tries her best to appear unfazed, just wanting him to tell her the goddamn time.

She feels lost in a whole new way, with the conception of time stripped from her as well. It makes her uneasy on a whole other level. “I just… Wanna know if it’s time for dessert.” She whispers, still afraid to say much. She waits for his reaction anxiously, another wave of uneasiness overcoming her.

Bucky laughs. He actually laughs at her. She furrows her brows as she watches his shoulders shake with every puff of laughter. “You don’t need to know the time…” he has a hard time getting the words out through his laughter, yet he speaks again shortly after. “Desserts,” he smiles as he turns his head toward her, eyes taking in her serious expression. He smiles warmly at her. “What do you want for dessert?”

“You tell me the time; I tell you what I want for dessert.” He raises his eyebrow at her demand, not really expecting it. She doesn’t know where the surge of confidence came from. She just wanted to know the damn time. Somewhere deep within her, she’s still wondering if he is going to let her go the following day.

“Feisty now, aren’t you?” He jokingly says, well knowing she was, still is, afraid of him. He bites the inside of his cheek, contemplating her offer before he slowly draws out his phone before showing her the time. 9:21pm. So, she had been tied up in his bedroom the whole day. She watched as he pushed it back into his pocket, away from her prying eyes.

“So, darling… You wanted dessert?” he turns back to her and she has shuffled closer to him in the midst of his lack of attention. Her hand reaches out to caress his cheek, startling him. She smiles softly, she doesn’t even know why.

In one way, she wanted to get out of his house as soon as humanly possible but… She found herself not wanting to. Her thoughts were conflicting within her head, confusing her even more than previously. Maybe she just had to play pretend for now, and he would let her go tomorrow?

She found herself slowly losing herself within her thoughts. She had so many conflicting ones, her mind in a flurry about which ones to focus on. Everything came to her while admiring him through her lashes. Every emotion she’s ever felt for him, every memory she had with him. “Yeah. I want you.”

Without words she rises, initiating the contact between them herself. She didn’t know how or why, but she found herself reaching out for his hand. It felt a little alien, but good, nonetheless. It was clear to her that he was taken aback by her actions. She silently straddles his thighs, her ass resting on his knees as she pushes him back to lay against the bed. “I want to do this on my own.” she starts while pulling the shirt over her head.

“You took the choice from me yesterday, and I don’t think that’s fair. Do you?” the sudden surge of confidence in her takes him aback, and he’s laying motionlessly against the mattress, just watching her undress herself on top of him.

He watches as her hands slide over her breasts and down her stomach, teasing him slightly as she snaps the elastic band of her panties against the skin on her hip. She feels him harden underneath her within second of the fabric leaving her torso, and she revels in it.

She was deeply in love with Bucky Barnes. No matter how he wronged her, abused her, used her - she loves him. Maybe she was delusional but having him underneath her set her nerves on fire. She had finally gotten what she wanted.

There was nothing standing in the way of her and Bucky’s relationship anymore. She wasn’t afraid anymore. She was going to give into him, and she was going to enjoy it.

All it had taken, was one small flaw in Bucky’s plan. He’d let it slip, and he wasn’t even aware of it.

Saturday, 03:22am

Opening the messages app on his phone, she quickly searches through the different messages before opening the one with her dad. She knew exactly who she had to call for help. Yet she found something that made her blood turn to ice in her veins. Or, it felt like that, at least.

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Slowly, the tears started burning in her eyes, making her vision blurry. The light from his phone blinded her slightly, and she found herself wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, a sob getting stuck in her throat. She just couldn’t believe it.

Right there, on his phone, was a conversation between him and her dad. Her own dad. Her stomach turned as she read through the messages, chest heaving as she tried to calm her erratic breaths.

Steve: You got her calmed yet?

Bucky: No, still squirming and crying. Hoping that she’ll calm down soon.

Bucky: Jesus, she got some lungs on her. I can’t wait to do everything I’ve planned to do to her tomorrow.

Steve: Good. Ruin her. Make sure she doesn’t get away. We need that money.

Bucky: If not, I’ll do what’s necessary. Even though I really don’t want to. You know how I feel about her.

Steve: I couldn’t care less. She isn’t mine anyways.

Her brows furrowed as she read one of the last messages over and over again. What the hell did he mean that I wasn’t his? She felt a strong hand clasp around the wrist of her hand that held the phone in it, forcing a small scream past her lips. She hadn’t even heard Bucky wake up.

“What are you doing?” His eyes were dark and hooded. They were also full of sleep, and she knew he was happy she was still in bed next to him, else she would’ve fallen off the bed. She looked at him through the blue light of the phone, trying to come up with a quick lie to throw him off in his sleepy haze.

“I was just looking at the time.” she tried carefully, the flow of tears drying out slowly. She was shocked, to say the least, but she wouldn’t let him know that she knew... “I usually wake up at night and I always try to track my sleeping pattern…” she had no idea what to say.

She couldn’t believe what she had just read. What did her dad mean? She isn’t mine anyways… The message kept resonating in her head. He huffed and grabbed the phone, turning away from her and resuming his slumber.

Saturday, 9:23pm

She crawled off his lap, standing over him as she undid his pants with quick movements. He lifted his hips to aid her in taking them off, his mind still trying to catch up to what was happening. His boxers followed soon after, his naked glory exposed to her yet again, only this time it was different.

Her hand grasps his cock, giving it a few tugs before she’s closing her lips around the head. He stutters out a moan intertwined with her name, his hands flying into her hair to ground himself. Where the sudden urge to have her lips around his cock was fulfilled, he still didn’t know what she was doing.

All he knew was that it felt heavenly. Her mouth was warm and inviting, her cheeks feeling warm and velvety as she hollowed them against his length. She sucked more than half of his cock into her mouth, causing a deep groan to spill from his lips.

Her hand wrapped around what she couldn’t fit in her mouth, and she slowly stroked his shaft while swirling her tongue around the enlarged head of his cock. She felt his hand tighten in her hair, a string of groans falling from his lips.

The hand that wasn’t wrapped around him pushed the panties off her hips languidly and she slowly rose to her feet, still bent over with her lips around his cock. She releases him with a pop, fluttering kisses along his toned abdomen and up his chest before she straddles his hips, gliding the wetness between her legs over the length of him.

His hands find her hips, both his thumbs rubbing circles into her hips, his head thrown back in pleasure. This pleasure is so different than it’s been previously, it’s so full of emotion for him and possibly also from her. It feels tremendously different from all the other times. His head shifts forward and admires her with hooded eyes before they flutter closed.

When she finally sinks down onto his cock with a strained expression, he feels everything shift within him. It’s like the whole orbit of the world changes. She’s struggling with his size, whimpering as she slowly sinks further down onto him. She falls forward, her hands landing just beside his face and he groans out, his eyes slowly reopening to look at her on top of him.

Her cheeks are flushed pink, her eyes prickling with tears and her bottom lip tugged in between her teeth, desperately trying to accommodate to his size. She’s shifting just a little bit, trying to ease the pain between her hips.

Her hand slid under his neck and grasped the short hairs there, closely followed by her lips meeting his. Her hips grinds over his, their lips gliding over each other’s messily, their tongues dancing together. Her soft pants mixed with his, his hands sliding up to rest on her lower back, guiding her gently.

“Oh, Bucky…” she whispers, and he isn’t sure whether or not he’s dreaming. It feels surreal that she’s moaning his name,it makes him twitch inside of her to finally hear his name spill from her lips that way. Hearing her moan his name combined with the tightness of her heat pushes him further and further towards his impending orgasm.

Her walls clench around him and she whimpers ever so sweetly. He knows she’s close. She just needs the final push. She’s still grinding her hips against his, so he angles them slightly for her clit to rub over his pelvic bone.

It doesn’t take more than a few strokes for her orgasm to overtake her, blinding her vision with black spots and making every hair on her body rise. It feels amazing this time around - with herself being in charge of her pleasure.

He’s close - so close - but if there’s one thing he doesn’t want to do right now, it’s to do something she doesn’t want to, however ambivalent that sounds. He restrains himself or tries to. Her hips are still drawing circles over his, and it’s driving him crazy.

“Cum in me,” she whispers in her haze, and she feels his hands tighten on her hips, his pants filling her ears as he empties his load inside of her. She feels at it trickles down around his length still embedded in her heat as she collapses on top of him, laying her head on his chest.

She slowly comes down from euphoria, relaxing into his arms coming around her to rub over her back. Everything slowly comes back to her, settling within her body. The lovestruck haze she has been in for the past half hour, is slowly coming to an end.

She slowly removes herself from on top of him, his seed trailing down her legs as she makes her way to the bathroom to clean herself. He finds her under the shower, quietly entering the stall behind her. She’s caught up in her thoughts, just standing under the stream of water with her arms wrapped around herself.

“I know what you saw last night. I didn’t want you to find out the way you did. We were supposed to be happy together. Live happily, and you would forget everything about everyone. Just you and me, here.” His body was barely against her back before he was pulling her trembling body back into his arms. She hadn’t even realized she was shaking until then.

“You didn’t want me to find out what, exactly?” She tried softly, jaw trembling uncomfortably at the other things he had said. “How are we ever to live happily?” She didn’t know what Bucky expected of her. There was just something she couldn’t imagine. She turned in his arms, looking up at him.

“You’re going to have to promise me that you won’t react poorly to what I’m about to tell you.” Bucky tried carefully, and she felt everything fall apart in the seconds following the words leaving his mouth. How could she not react to anything? “I shouldn’t be the one telling you this, but…”

Tell her what?! Just two days prior she’d been living contently with her parents, and here, a mere 46 hours later… Everything had changed. She watched his face as he searched for the words, his thoughts conflicting visibly in his face.

“Steve… He isn’t your father.” Bucky started, and she felt her heart fall further into her chest. That hurt. “Your mother had someone else around the time you were conceived. Steve has taken a paternity test, and it’s true.” She felt the tears rise to her eyes yet again mixing with the water from the shower, both from the betrayal of Bucky but also from her parents.

“This has all been set up so Steve can claim you as dead. To get money from the insurance company.” He hides his face with his hand, visibly upset that everything has fallen apart. Everything has certainly not worked out the way it was supposed to. “But I’ve changed my mind. I can’t do this to you.”

“But you’ve already done it...” She whispered, before taking his hand in hers. “What changed?” She cradled his face in her other hand, watching him intently as he rubs his hand over his face. It leaves red marks in its wake, letting her know just how hard he’s rubbing the skin.

“We need to make sure he doesn’t get that money” Bucky grabs her face with his hands in an instant, his eyes searching hers intensely. He thinks over her question, licking his lips before he answers.

“Nothing changed. Even though I wanted this to start with, I never even considered getting rid of you. I want you to know that I’ve never looked at you wrongly before you were legal. I couldn’t bring myself to it, even though I knew you weren’t Steve’s. I never ever wanted to hurt you. Because I love you.”

She sighs and for a short while closes her eyes. A few seconds pass where he’s just watching her.

Then one side of her lips tug up into a smirk, before she’s looking at him with a mischievous look in her eyes. They both know what they have to do.

Then she speaks, instantly letting him know that everything is settled between the two of them.

“I love you. Let’s do it.”

#dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky smut #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x y/n #dark!bucky x you #bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes

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eldritchqueerture · 3 years

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Hello! This is a project for @summer-in-the-archives-event that I worked on with @horizonindigo! We came up with the idea together and based our individual works around the poem I wrote, included in the fic. You can find their absolutely amazing art here!!

I freaking loved working on this one and I got more and more excited as we progressed. I also surprised myself with the poem itself a bit, definitely didn’t expect it to end up quite as cool, if I may say so myself. It was incredibly fun to write.

Big shoutout to @sunflowers-and-frogs for beta reading, I love you bestie <3

I would like to thank all the mods that made this event possible! It’s my first time taking part in anything like this and it was really, really fun, so THANK YOU <3 Love you guys :3 Anyways, enough of my rambling kdfjgkjsdfg

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Relationship: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical The Lonely Content (The Magnus Archives), Kissing, Excessive Tea-Making, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), Poetry, Love Confessions Warnings: self-esteem issues, typical Lonely content, discussions of free-will and determinism, graphic kiss

Summary: As Martin fights the remnants of the Lonely's influence on their ride to Daisy's safehouse in Scotland, he focuses on his feelings for Jon to keep him tethered to reality. He watches Jon be himself in the safety of the cottage, share these small intimacies of domesticity and the words come to him as a poem weaves itself into the pages of his notebook...

He feels the taste of salt in his mouth, as he looks out of the car window at the rapidly falling away landscape, covered in the darkness of the night. He feels Jon’s presence next to him, focused on driving but glancing every so often at him with concern. Martin feels like he should say something, somehow fill the silence that has befallen them, but no words ever find their way to his mouth. He stays quiet, watching the trees pass them by, trying to ignore the anxious churning in his stomach. He’s always been pretty good at filling awkward silences with chatter; at least before the Lonely. Now… he can’t help but feel bothered by Jon’s presence, even though he did all of this for him, even though this is what he’s wanted all this time; it’s like a splinter, prickling at his mind, almost causing him physical discomfort. He swallows and feels the salty taste on his tongue; he discards the thoughts and tries his best to breathe through the discomfort, instead focusing on the sensation of Jon’s warm hand on his.

Martin used to be the warm one; he’d always been generating heat and his mind goes back to the early days in the Archives when the basement was cold in the winter and both Tim and Sasha used to gravitate towards him with their respective cups of tea during breaks. Now his whole body is cold, the chill of the ocean breeze and fog having settled in his bones so deep he thinks he’ll never feel warm again. The thought isn’t sparking any emotions in him though. It’s just a thing that he’s learned to accept, just as the fact that he’ll always be alo—

“Do you want me to put on some music?” Jon asks with another one of his glances. Every time, he raises his eyebrows a bit, and tilts his head to the side; Martin expects the concern in his eyes, but he sees something else there as well. He’s been afraid to put a label to the expression for the fear he’s reading him wrong, but the bolder part of his mind tells him it’s fondness.

Jon’s hand is warm, and his thumb grazes the skin of his palm just a little, as if not sure he’s allowed to. Martin looks down at their hands and feels warmth spark in his stomach; he smiles.

“I’m sorry I’m—I’m not really good at the whole, uh… small talk thing,” Jon adds with a flush, turning his head back to the road. “I should probably be talking about something, though, to, uh… to keep you here. I suppose.” He visibly cringes at his words.

“It’s—It’s fine, Jon,” Martin chuckles, and Jon relaxes, fixing him with a quick smile of his own. “I’m just… you know.” He looks down at their hands again and has a brief feeling they belong to someone else. Not him. Never him. “I’m not quite… out of that. Yet.”

Another look of concern. Martin feels heat prickling at his cheeks and he’s a little bit glad, because at least it’s a feeling. He interlaces their fingers and looks out the front window.

They spend the ride in relative silence. Jon tries a couple more times to start small talk and fails; they stop at a gas station at one point and Martin takes out his notebook when Jon disappears inside the station to pay for gas. He flicks through it and his eyes stop at an unfinished draft; he started writing it shortly before Peter took him down to the Panopticon, but he’d only managed to get a few first lines down. Despite still feeling the cold in his bones and his mind being clouded by the remains of the fog, words come to him, and he starts scribbling. He continues to do so even when Jon comes back with tea and an assortment of snacks, blushing just a little bit when Jon shoots a curious look at the notebook. He doesn’t ask and Martin is thankful for it. He’s not the sort to show his drafts to anyone, especially to the subject he’s writing about.

It’s 1am when they arrive at the cottage; they’re both exhausted and they quickly take their bags inside and lock the door. The cottage is small and practical, just Daisy’s style; it’s also quite dusty from months of abandonment. Martin yawns as he opens one of the bags to get the essentials. They should leave unpacking and cleaning for the next day.

He hears Jon’s footsteps on the wooden floor coming back from the initial run of the house and he turns to tell him that, but the somewhat sheepish look on his face stops him in his tracks. Has he ever seen Jon look sheepish before?

“So, uh, obviously this was Daisy’s safehouse when she was, well… Avoiding people,” he says, not meeting Martin’s eyes.

“I hope ‘avoiding people’ doesn’t mean killing them in this context,” Martin snorts, not sure if he’s entirely joking. The humour is lost on Jon, however, as he looks at him confused for a moment before he processes Martin’s words.

“Oh, no, no, I-I don’t believe she, uh… She just slept here.” Jon shifts awkwardly. “And that means there’s uh, there’s only one bed.”

Martin’s eyes widen and his lips form a little “Oh”.

“Of course, if you’re not comfortable with sharing, I can just take the couch, you need some proper rest and I’m used to running on low sleep” —Jon averts his gaze as he speaks. He grabs his bag and walks over to the couch, and Martin wants to stop him talking and just say that they should share the bed, but his voice seems to have left him at this crucial moment. He just stares as Jon places the bag on the couch and looks back at him, aware of the silence. “Martin?”

Martin swallows, a familiar cold freezing his toes. He feels the damp sand underneath his bare feet and a chill runs down his spine. He blinks and tightens his grip on the bag he’s been holding. This is real, he is real, Jon is real.

“You need good rest too,” he finally manages to say, and he’s surprised by how clear and normal his voice sounds; it makes Jon relax a bit. “We should share the bed, if-if you are comfortable with that.”

A small smile appears on Jon’s lips and a warm feeling fills Martin’s stomach again; he knows the smile is for him.

“Okay,” he says softly and picks the bag up.

They manage to keep the awkwardness of it to the minimum; they’re both very tired and at one point it just doesn’t matter anymore. Jon hands Martin a separate blanket and he pushes the disappointment down into a void inside him where he keeps feelings to come back to when he’s alone. It would be foolish of him to hope for cuddling since they haven’t talked about anything yet.

He expects to fall asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow, but he finds himself awake in the darkness after goodnights are said (Jon’s voice sounds so soft and tender Martin has forgotten all about his earlier disappointment). He’s laying on his back, eyes closed, and he feels Jon’s presence on his right. His breathing is steady, not yet slow enough to indicate sleep, but calm and relaxed. Martin peeks out through half-lidded eyes – he hasn’t gotten used to the darkness as much yet, but he can see Jon laying on his side, facing him, his eyes closed and his hair loosely framing his face. One of his hands rests close to his head on the pillow. Martin blinks, fully opening his eyes now and smiling softly. As his vision clears, Martin notices Jon frowning ever so slightly, and he wonders if the faint lines between his eyebrows smoothen when he’s asleep.

“Is watching people sleep a usual activity for you?” Jon whispers with amusement as he opens his eyes and Martin gasps with surprise and looks away, feeling heat prickle at his cheeks.

“Wha—uh, no! No, of course no—Sorry, I—” He rambles, and he thinks he might just die from embarrassment when he hears Jon laugh quietly.

“It’s fine, Martin.” He shakes his head with a sigh. “Really. I-- Sorry, I thought a joke would, um… lighten the mood somewhat.”

Martin risks a look at him and wonders if the red on his cheeks is visible through the darkness. Jon looks at him with that expression again, something Martin would very much want to classify as fondness if it didn’t feel so impossible. But now that he thinks about it… Would it really be thatfar-fetched? Jon had gone into the Lonely just to get him out. Would he have done that for anyone else? Martin rolls his eyes at himself in his mind, of course he would. He did go into the Buried, and it was for Daisy, a person who has threatened him multiple times, kidnapped and almost killed him. If Jon was ready to lay down his life for her, out of all of them, it shouldn’t be surprising he would do the same for his assistant; it says nothing about his feelings on the matter.

Martin’s memories of the Lonely are hazy. He remembers the cold, the dampness, and the loneliness. He remembers his thoughts, the lonely ones, and how they felt both alien and familiar at the same time. He remembers the comfort, the feeling of fitting in, but also the pain and the fear, just before they were numbed by the cold and the fog that made him forget. And then suddenly, Jon was in front of him, looking at him with desperation on his face, tears in his eyes glowing with a green light. Was it Jon calling for him, or just the Beholding?

“What are you thinking about?” comes Jon’s voice and Martin realizes he’s been staring into the air for a while. He blinks and looks back at Jon.

“Uh…” He searches for words before he gives up on trying to come up with an excuse. His voice is quiet when he speaks. “Why did you do it?”

Jon blinks at him a couple times and rises to lean on his elbow, to better look at Martin.

“What do you mean?”

“The Lonely,” Martin says, not meeting his eyes. Jon is wearing a blue t-shirt with a logo of a band Martin doesn’t recognize; the shirt is loose and it uncovers one of Jon's shoulders which would probably be distracting if Martin’s mind wasn't chilled by the remnants of the fog. “Why did you come for me?”

Even without looking at him, Martin sees Jon’s forehead ripple. A while passes as Jon searches his face and the thought that he shouldn’t have asked starts creeping up to Martin’s head. Shouldn’t have brought any attention to the subject, he should just be glad, he should—

“I care about you, Martin,” Jon says in a very gentle and quiet voice, like he’s afraid anything louder would take away the meaning of his words. Martin looks up at Jon and the hint of that intense blush from before makes it back to his face. “You’re… You matter to me. You will always matter to me.”

Martin can’t stop a small smile appearing on his face and Jon mirrors it.

“Thank you,” Martin whispers, feeling a warmth settle in his chest, finally driving the cold away.

“Anytime.” Jon lays his head back down and settles back with the right hand near his face. “Sleep well, Martin.”

Martin closes his eyes contentedly and he curls up on his right side, facing Jon, as if trying to keep this warm feeling from escaping his chest too soon.

“You too, Jon.”

---

Martin wakes up alone in an unfamiliar bed, the smell of foreign covers filling his nostrils and for a second he panics. He opens his eyes and the memories come back to him; their late arrival at the safehouse and laying down to sleep next to Jon.

He sits up, looking at the space Jon had occupied. It’s vacant now, just the curled up covers he left behind, but it manages to bring a blush to Martin’s cheeks, nonetheless. It feels so… intimate to know that they slept next to each other. It makes him feel warm and cosy.

Martin gets up and goes to the bathroom before he finds Jon in the kitchen. He’s humming quietly as he finishes cleaning the table and he looks up when Martin enters.

“Good morning, Martin.” He smiles and Martin’s afraid he’s going to melt. He takes a quick look around and notices that their sparse kitchen supplies are mostly unpacked, and the kettle is already on the stove.

“How long have you been awake?” He asks; some of the shock must have made it to his voice because Jon looks amused.

“Two hours or so. I’ve always been a morning person.” He shrugs and finishes cleaning the table. “Tea?”

A smile lights up Martin’s face and he gets swept up by the familiarity of the activity, while Jon busies himself with fixing up some breakfast. As both of them work in the kitchen, Martin notices the casual brushes of their skin and touches of the shoulders. He doesn’t know if he’s doing it consciously or if it just happens naturally, but he knows that Jon’s open demeanour is drawing him closer than before. He wonders if he’s been like this ever since he woke up from the coma, and there was just no one to appreciate it.

The morning is relaxed, the casual conversation flowing a lot smoother than the day before, and after breakfast they set out to clean the whole cottage and go down to the village to buy some actual supplies. The village is small, but the local shop provides all the essentials they need; for a moment Martin forgets about everything outside of that village and shopping for groceries with Jon, as if this is their life now, in the Scottish Highlands, living together in a cottage. They talk about cooking dinner, and the cows they passed on the way, and Martin thinks he could get used to that.

The bubble bursts when they finish up and Jon decides to call Basira. She picks up after a while and updates them on the absence of both Jonah Magnus and Daisy. Basira says she’ll send some statements up to them when the Institute stops being an active crime scene, and a shadow passes over Jon’s face. Wrapped up in a conversation about their taste in dinner dishes, it was almost too easy for Martin to forget food isn’t the only sustenance Jon needs. He finds it easier to forget things ever since the Lonely. They walk back to their cottage in silence, Martin grabbing Jon’s hand as soon as he lets go of the phone.

When they get back, Jon declares he’s going to take care of unpacking and cooking, and even though Martin knows Jon to be stupidly stubborn, he’s surprised by the strictness with which Jon insists he sit back and relax. Martin doesn’t really complain; he’s spent his entire life caring for others and, to be honest, it does feel rather good to be on the receiving end for once. He watches Jon from the couch for a while, before he takes out his notebook and looks over the poem he wrote in the car.

Wisps of mist conceal my eyes

A lone indulgence to lose one's face

And soothing a part inside that cries

With chilling sadness and numbing grace

The steadfast rhythm of waves ashore

As ocean breeze leaves a taste of salt

The words forgotten, erase what I swore

Until I hear your voice once more

I wondered many times what it might be

That we finally took to calling "us"

What would be left if we broke free

Of dread and horror's eternal grasp

The Eye looms aloft, ever-present dread

Watching all, eternal lids apart

You made your choice unaware you were led

By strings of web, against your heart

Jon starts humming under his nose in the kitchen as he cuts something on the board; the water in the kettle boils slowly and fills the air with a quiet whistle. Martin smiles while shooting a subtle glance at Jon; he seems to notice his gaze and falls quiet, but a smile lights up his face when he sees the fondness on Martin’s face. For all this talk about Jon “losing himself” in the role of the Archivist, this seems as human as you can get. Martin never favoured the approach the other archival staff took to the knowledge of the significance of Jon’s position, and he often wondered how they could look at him and see a monster. Of course he made bad decisions, but so did everyone. They’ve seen or read about so many avatars giving into the powers that fed them and yes, maybe Martin is biased, but Jon was nothing like them. They’ve all been caught in this huge web of statements that turned real; the more they struggled to break free the more tangled up they became, and it wasn’t Jon’s fault that he ended up in the centre of it. He knows Jon tried to make right choices every step of the way. Can you really blame a human being for failing to completely resist something that’s beyond mortality and human reality? One way or another they ended up here, together, and yes, maybe the Eye and the Lonely are still looming as very tangible threats, and Jonah Magnus is nowhere near being stopped, but at least they’re together now. Martin remembers thinking the Unknowing was the endgame, the last chapter of this horror for them, and he remembers the hopelessness of their story getting a bad ending that essentially pushed him into the Lonely; now he feels a different kind of an end approaching – he dares to be hopeful. Maybe everything works out in the end? Maybe, if they were safe and happy, it wouldn’t actually be the end of the world.

Martin looks down at his notebook and starts writing, sticking the tip of his tongue out in concentration.

What is a monster? Where is the line

That would separate us from the world

All I know is our paths align

And we together can battle the cold

You cut through the curtains of mist and See

The green glow fades when our eyes meet

My lips form a soft and quiet plea

To be loved has never felt so sweet

To be loved is a new feeling for me

I only know how to love from one side

But with you I hope we can once be free

Maybe ignore the whims of the tide

Although I know we're not nearly through

I taste and savour your voice, your breath

If only for a moment, we can start anew

And I will follow you even to death

As he stares at the last word of the finished poem, his hand with the pen hovering over it, he registers that his eyes have watered a bit. He blinks the tears away quickly as Jon sits down on the couch next to him, looking at him with a gentle worry. Martin looks up at the two mugs of tea he’d placed on the table.

“Did you make tea?” He asks with mock bewilderment, and Jon scoffs at him.

“I know how to make tea, Martin.” He nudges him with amusement, that gentle worry not quite gone from his eyes. “What are you writing about?”

Martin falls quiet, pressing the notebook to his chest in a knee-jerk reaction.

“Thought you didn’t like poetry,” he huffs out a laugh that’s only a little bit self-conscious. Jon shrugs, reaching out for his mug and taking a sip.

“I don’t understand it. And yes, I have been known to dislike it at times, but… Maybe I could be swayed to give it another shot.” Jon rolls his eyes fondly and looks at Martin out of the corner of his eye, a look that says ‘for you’. Martin grins, heat pricking at his cheeks once again.

“You see, i-it’s all about emotion.” He places the notebook gently on his lap face down and reaches for his own mug. “You w-want to put all of your emotions into words in a-an artistic way, that has a rhythm and, uh, and feels alive. And you want your, uh, your readers to feel that, that emotion through your words.”

Jon listens attentively and his eyes aren’t leaving Martin’s face; at one point Martin gets distracted by it and forgets where his explanation was going. Jon’s gaze has always been intense, in different ways throughout the time they’ve known each other. At first it was judgemental, the gaze of his boss, full of unmet expectations; then it was piercing, watchful and suspicious; as time passed, it seemed to gain more and more weight of the Beholding, something Tim always complained about. After Martin had joined Peter Lukas, the rare glances he got from Jon were full of yearning that Martin didn’t understand at the time; didn’t want to understand. Now, it’s that gentle fondness, interweaved with something intangibly sad and Martin feels an urge to hug him, to bring him close to his chest and never let go; to bury his face in Jon’s hair and protect him.

They move to place their mugs at the table at the same time and snort, amusement quickly turning into a fit of laughter. Jon throws his head back a little with it and Martin wonders if he has ever seen him laugh so openly before. He didn’t think it was possible for him to fall in love with the man even more, but once again, his heart proves him wrong. He stares at him with a lovestruck expression and thinks they should really talk about it. Martin doesn’t know where to start though and Jon seems to be thinking in a similar direction because his expression shifts into gentle seriousness.

“Martin, I…” He starts and bites his lip. “I need to apologize.”

Martin straightens a little; it’s not exactly what he expects.

“I—The way I used to treat you…” Pain and guilt flash through Jon’s face as he looks away for a moment to gather his thoughts. “It was not okay. None of it was okay. And I’m—I’m really sorry for that. It doesn’t—I know it doesn’t change anything that happened, but I” —he sighs. “I really am sorry. I hope I can, somehow, uh… somehow make it up to you.”

Martin reaches for Jon’s hand, and he looks down in surprise; Martin sees his eyes start glistening.

“I’m sorry for everything that happened to you.” He continues in a whisper and his eyes are locked on their touching hands. “I’m so sorry about the Lonely. I’m sorry that you’re trapped in all of this with me, and I would understand if you decided to leave—”

“Jon.” Martin squeezes his hand and Jon’s eyes shoot up to look at him.

“I’m sorry, that’s not an apology,” he sighs again. “I just… I’m sorry, Martin. About everything.” His other hand grips Martin’s. “I’m glad you are still here. I’m—I’m so glad, you d-don’t even know,” he laughs.

“I think I do.” Martin smiles gently. “Thank you for saying that. I’ve—I've forgiven you for a lot of it a long time ago. A-And the rest just isn’t your fault.”

Jon frowns.

“The Lonely was always there,” Martin shrugs. “Peter Lukas was just… a catalyst, I think. But now I have you.” His finger grazes the outside of Jon’s palm and his heart flutters in his chest when he sees that small smile appear on Jon’s face. “And you can’t be blamed for Elia—Jonah’s games. We’re all just… a bunch of people who didn’t know what was going on until it was too late.”

Jon’s eyes fall as he nods slightly.

“He’s still up to something,” he says quietly.

“Figures,” Martin laughs bitterly. “But we’re here now. And frankly, I don’t really want to think about him when we’re finally…” The word ‘together’ gets stuck in his throat, as if it would breach this fine line of ambiguity they’ve drawn between themselves. Jon seems to fill it in and his eyes land back on Martin.

He’s never wanted to kiss him more than he does right now. Jon's eyes are wide and glistening with something that looks suspiciously like hope, and his fingers gently graze the outside of Martin's palm. Warmth spreads in his chest and his eyes flutter a little, not breaking the eye contact. He wants to pull Jon close to his chest, to run his fingers through his hair and feel his breath on his own skin. To really feel like he's there, next to him, with him.

Before he can follow through with any of that, something sizzles in the kitchen, loud in the silence, startling them both.

“Food!” Jon chuckles slightly before he jumps to his feet and rushes to the kitchen, while Martin snorts and follows him. Jon stirs the pan with curry and sighs with relief when he sees it's not burned. He turns down the heat anyway and checks on the rice.

“Jon, this smells amazing,” Martin says, peeking into the pan with cheese and spinach. “I didn't know you could cook.”

“Well, contrary to the popular belief I was a functional human being. For a while,” Jon snorts and leans against the counter to look back at Martin. “It's Palak Paneer, my grandma taught me when I was a child.”

“It looks fantastic,” Martin grins, and Jon rolls his eyes in mock exasperation.

Even though the moment's lost, the remains of the feeling can be felt between them as they prepare the plates and take the food to the table. They easily fall back into usual chatter and, as soon as they’re finished, Martin jumps to wash the dishes. Jon relents after extensive affirmations from Martin that he's alright and he can definitely take care of a couple dishes in the sink, and he drops onto the couch with a content sigh instead.

Martin finishes up with the dishes and dries his hands on a towel.

“Do you want some tea?” He asks and hangs the towel back on the rack. When there's no response, he turns to the couch. “Jon?”

Something sinks in his stomach when he sees that the object that consumes Jon’s attention is the poem he’s finished; he scratches his neck, as his cheeks take on a pink tinge. “Oh…”

He walks up to the couch, unsure, trying to gauge Jon's reaction. His face seems tense, he squeezes the notebook in his hand so hard his knuckles go white, and his eyes are focused at one point on the page.

“Um... Jon?” Martin asks weakly, his heart drumming in his chest so loud he's sure both of them can hear it.

Jon jumps to his feet, startled, and looks up at him with eyes wide, like a deer in the headlights. Martin instinctively raises his hands in a placating gesture, as Jon registers his presence, looks down on the notebook in his hands, and quickly puts it on the table as if it stung him.

“Martin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look, it was just there and—”

“Hey, Jon, it’s alright!” It’s maybe a little not alright, since the poem is nothing short of a love confession and a wish Martin had no right to assume would ever be true, so Jon reading it is less than ideal. Martin rushes to gently place a hand on Jon’s shoulder but when he recoils from the touch, Martin withdraws his hand, cursing everything about himself.

“No, I, uh…” Jon runs his hand through his hair, eyes darting between Martin, his hand, and the notebook frantically. “I shouldn’t have— uh, it’s—it’s your private business, what you write about, so—”

Martin is sure he’s tomato red on the face by this point and hopes against hope that the afternoon light filtering through the curtains obscures it just a little. Jon, on the other hand, doesn’t have the embarrassed blush that usually darkens his cheeks; instead he breathes fast, his hands shaking ever so slightly. Martin sees him hunch just a little, making himself smaller.

“Um, yeah, I, uh—” He starts fidgeting with his fingers. Did the idea of—of love frighten Jon so much? He was stupid to leave it out in the open and now Jon knows, and it’s not how he feels, so he hates him… “I’m sorry.”

Jon’s eyes snap to him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“For what?”

Martin huffs out something like a pained laugh.

“Th-That’s not exactly how- how I wanted to tell you.” He wrings out his hands and shoots Jon a pleading look. What’s done is done and the only thing he can hope for is for Jon to let him down easy and never speak of this again.

“Tell me?” Jon looks down at the notebook again and there’s the worry again, stark on his face. He breathes out, slowly, and looks at the floor. “I don’t—I don’t even want to think this is a possibility…”

Martin doesn’t need to imagine what it would be like to be stabbed, if he wanted to - he’s pretty sure the acute pain of his heart shattering in his chest is close enough. His mind tries to catch up to the emotions, slow them down just a bit, because something seems off, and isn’t this a weird way to reject someone you must have known had a crush on you? But his throat tightens with the swell of pain and shame and Martin blinks away the tears welling up in his eyes.

Jon sighs and plops down on the couch, hiding his face in his hands and pushing his glasses up to his forehead.

“We d-don’t have to talk about it, if—if you don’t want to,” Martin says quietly. He sits down next to Jon, careful not to touch him in any way, and puts his hands between his knees.

Jon lets out a bitter laugh.

“Isn’t that what they—the Web would want? Just… mindlessly follow, go with the flow until something… irreversibly bad happens?”

Martin turns to Jon with a frown.

“Wh—What?”

Jon looks at him with something glistening in his eyes and Martin can see the lines of pain and misery written on his face like they belong there.

“The web,” he says faintly. “Strings of fate. I—” He lets out a breath. “Was I just being manipulated this whole time? Was I ever really—Did I ever have a choice?”

“Jon... what are you talking about?”

“You—You said I was...” He reaches for the notebook and points at a verse with his finger. “’Made your choice unaware you were led by strings of web against your heart.’ How—W-Why did you say this?”

Martin stares into Jon's green eyes with concern, yet parts of his heart start to weave themselves back together. However confused and worried Jon seems to be, none of it is directed at Martin; he looks at him with desperation, almost pleading, and he realizes they’ve been having two different conversations at the same time.

“Oh-Oh, God, Jon, I-I didn't mean—I just, it's a-a metaphor, just that, you know,” he takes a breath. “It does remind me of a web, the-the way we got caught up in Elias' plans.” He looks down, his cheeks burning as he remembers why Jon would get caught at this specific phrase. “I'm sorry for, uh, using that, it was just the first thing that came to my mind and—”

Jon exhales next to him and Martin risks a look up. The uneasiness isn't gone from his face but he relaxes just a little bit, enough to stabilize his breathing.

“I'm sorry for this… this whole thing, Martin.” He gestures at nothing in particular and it's his turn to look at the floor, as if it's all of a sudden the most interesting thing he's ever seen. He starts fidgeting with the notebook. “I'm just—What if it’s true?” His voice goes higher at the question and he closes his eyes. Martin squeezes his arm. “What if I am just... Just a puppet? An inhuman, helpless puppet in the hands of—Of some spider pulling the strings?”

A tear rolls down Jon's cheek and Martin grabs one of his hands. It’s small and still shakes a little; he tries to put all the protectiveness he feels into this small gesture. Jon doesn’t recoil this time, instead taking a moment to watch Martin’s hand clasp around his.

“Jon,” Martin starts softly. “You're still you. You're not some—Some spider puppet that can't make choices.”

“But what if—”

“You've made a choice to go into the Lonely for me.” Martin bumps their knees together lightly and Jon looks up at him. “I don't suspect any webs would need me alive to push you into it. It was You.”

Jon looks him in the eyes and Martin barely stops himself from reaching up to his face to wipe away his tears.

“Or it just makes us think that we have a choice but are ultimately helpless against fate and everything we do is determined by intricately crafted circumstances,” Jon whispers. “Maybe free will is a lie.”

Martin blinks.

“Jon...”

“Maybe I was never able to stop it. Any of it.” Jon’s voice grows more horrified and even though his eyes are directed at Martin's face, he seems to be looking somewhere past him. “Maybe nothing we try to do really matters.”

“Jon.” Martin’s voice gains a bit of force, even though he feels all but sure. “What do you see?”

Jon frowns. “What?”

“Look at me and tell me what you see?” The force is gone; the sentence sounds more like a feeble suggestion than a request, but Jon's eyes refocus on Martin's in a frown of confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“We're here now,” Martin says quietly. “And yeah, maybe our decisions are all predetermined or whatever. I still think it matters that we try. I think our experience matters. And you're not a-a monster without free will, Jon. You care about people, and you’ve sacrificed a lot for other people. You've made your own choices and, no matter if they were good or bad, they were still yours. And I think that matters.”

Jon blinks at him for a moment, then his shoulders slump with a sigh and he interlaces their fingers. Martin doesn’t miss it and he feels warmth in his chest.

“I've always been afraid of—of my will not being my own anymore,” he confesses quietly. “Of, uh... of not knowing the difference.”

“I get it,” Martin nods. “If it’s any consolation, I see a lot of Jon in you still.” Jon looks up at him with surprise and Martin gives him a half smile. “I see a very changed Jon but it's still Jon.” He strokes Jon's palm as his heart picks up the pace. “The same Jon I've first fallen in love with.”

Jon exhales softly, his face caught in a soft surprise, and Martin smiles around the dull ache in his chest.

“You don't have to say anything. I'm sure you've known for a while, but I just... I wanted to say it.”

With every second that passes in silence, however, Martin's cheeks grow hotter, and he concludes that this might have been a mistake.

“I-I'm sorry. M-Maybe I shouldn't have said that, I… I don't want things to get weird or anything, so, uh, we can, we can just forget—”

“Martin.” Jon says his name in a soft and kind of inquisitive way that makes his heart bounce around and transforms the ache in his chest into swirling butterflies again. Martin looks up and Jon’s head is tilted to the side, his face still wet with tears, but he notices something hopeful glitter in his eyes. “I love you too.”

Martin frowns, suddenly wondering if he isn't dreaming. Is Jon really saying what he thinks he is? Did he hear correctly? Maybe he misheard—

“I have for a while,” Jon's voice is still quiet and soft. “I didn't want to say anything because I thought it was too early after the Lonely and you might not feel this way anymore, but...”

Martin swallows, acutely aware of how loud his heartbeat is. He squeezes Jon’s hand and smiles slightly.

“I... I didn't know,” he whispers, not trusting his voice to cooperate.

“As soon as I woke up from the coma, I wanted to tell you,” Jon says. “I thought I was too late; that it took me too long to stop denying the feelings I had because I didn’t know how to deal with them, and I'd missed my chance.” He laughs bitterly.

“So that’s what it was about,” Martin whispers, as Jon's actions towards him throughout his time as Peter Lukas’ assistant start falling into place. Jon looks at him with a frown, so he adds, “The ‘let's gouge out our eyes and escape'.”

Jon scrunches up his nose and clears his throat.

“Yes, well. Yeah.”

Martin chuckles quietly.

“I don't think I would have lasted in the Lonely if I understood then. But then again. It didn't really matter in the end. It didn't help.”

“But it was your choice,” Jon echoes Martin's words from before and their eyes meet again.

“Yeah. It was my choice.”

They stare into each other's eyes for a moment, losing track of time, before Jon smiles slightly and looks back at the notebook.

“I really am sorry for not asking your permission, though,” he says. “I got so caught up in the metaphor I didn’t even finish it.”

Martin blinks, the warmth from his chest spreading to his cheeks again.

“D-Do you want to?”

Jon smiles softly, this new smile that Martin has only seen in the past couple of days, always directed at him.

“If you’d let me.”

Martin needs to look away, unable to handle the affection in Jon’s eyes. He mumbles an ‘okay’ with a smile that’s not entirely under his control and gets up.

“But I am making that tea whether you want it or not, waiting for someone to finish reading something is a torture.”

He hears Jon laugh as he heads back to the kitchen.

When he comes back with two steaming mugs, Jon is waiting for him with a smile and his nervousness dissipates with his next words.

“I like it,” Jon says. “Apart from the, uh, web metaphor, obviously. It's hopeful.”

“Y-You do?”

Martin swallows; the pleasant tingling in his stomach is back. He places their mugs on the table and reaches out to join their hands again. Jon intertwines their fingers immediately and caresses the outside of Martin’s palm with his thumb.

Jon looks down at the verses again and smiles softly, almost sheepishly, a familiar blush darkening his cheeks.

“I—I don't know if there would be anything for us outside of. You know. The fears and all that,” he grimaces. “At least, for me. But, uh…” He looks at Martin again with a hopeful expression that makes Martin melt a little, and he gently caresses Martin's cheek with his free hand. “I really like the thought of it.”

Martin's brain might be short-circuiting at this moment and all of his thoughts take form of fuzzy static.

“Me too,” he says, suddenly breathless. Jon's hand rests cupping his cheek and, are they a bit closer than they were a second ago? Jon's gaze slides down Martin's face to his lips and he feels he might faint right there and then. He doesn't, instead gathering up his courage to take a breath.

“Can I kiss you?” Jon asks first and Martin feels his lips form a grin.

“Please,” he breathes out; the next second their lips meet, soft but urgent, desperate and sick of waiting. Martin's hand dives into Jon's soft hair, fingers scraping the delicate skin of his head and earning him a low sound from Jon's throat. They pull each other closer and find a rhythm to lose themselves in for just a moment; the sensation of Jon's tongue swirling in his mouth, of his slender fingers on his cheek and his neck, the pressure of his body against his chest; all of it making Martin dizzy with happiness.

Martin pulls away when his lungs painfully remind him breathing is still a necessity and he opens his eyes to look at Jon – His soft lips, his nose, his pockmark scars, and his eyes, green yet with no trace of Beholding in them. He takes him in whole, with all of his flaws and all of his virtues, and he feels seen in return, seen by the man he loves and who loves him. The weight of it all hits Martin like a crashing wave and he pulls Jon in for a tight embrace.

“I love you,” he whispers against his shoulder, and he feels Jon's arms tightening around his torso.

“I love you too, Martin.”

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #summer in the archives event #niki.writes #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin

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iam93percentstardust · 3 years

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i was about to ask you to continue your marvels unsolved ‘verse but then i saw your specific ships so i’m going to ask for a fantasy au with winteriron!! but tbh you should do whatever makes you happy it’s your birthday month!!! (happy birthday! your writing makes me so happy thank you so much for it)

Thank you so much!! I’m so happy you like my writing!!!

I ended up being inspired by the magical flower shop AU I wrote last August, but that’s not necessary to read to understand this fic. Since tumblr is still having issues with links, I won’t include the link here but if you’re interested in that one, it’s Chapter 27 of AU-gust

As always, this fic can be found on my ao3!

Roses and Rowan

It’s storming when Bucky drives past Ravenspoint’s limits. The rain is coming down hard enough that he almost misses the sign for the little town in all the gloom, but then there’s a flash of lightning, illuminating the foreboding faces of the town patriarchs glaring down at those who would dare enter their town. Bucky shivers, resolutely turning away as he continues on his way.

He’s not here for them anyway. The patriarchs are long dead, their only descendants long since fled. There’s another flash of lightning, this time illuminating the hill off to the left and the old manor on the hilltop. From what little bit he can see through the storm, it looks like it was once a stately mansion but it’s falling into disrepair now. Bucky blinks and suddenly he can see the golden glimmer of the wards around the whole hill, sealing the house and grounds off from the would-be adventurers brave enough to test their mettle against the ghosts of Rosewood Manor.

Another shiver runs down his spine. The magic is strangely familiar, though he can’t place where he might have seen it before. He blinks again and the golden glimmer of the wards disappears from his view. “Spooky,” Bucky mutters. In the passenger seat, Alpine mraows her agreement. He reaches over and scratches under her chin, grinning when she purrs loud enough to drown out the music coming from the car speakers.

They pull into town a few minutes later, only knowing it by the stoplight Bucky just barely manages to make out through the sheets of rain pounding down. He would have missed it otherwise, the storm too heavy and the buildings too dark to see in the night. Ravenspoint is a small town with a population of only three thousand people, exactly one stoplight, and two streets that run the length of town, connected by a series of smaller cross streets. It’s exactly the last place Bucky ever thought he would find himself and yet here he is, searching for someone who had made it clear he didn’t want to be found.

“What am I doing, Alpine?” he asks the cat. “He told me he didn’t want me to come after him.”

Alpine can’t respond but she rolls over, exposing her belly to him, and he gets the sense of reassurance through their bond.

“I know,” he responds. “Tellin’ people he wants to be left alone when that’s usually the last thing he wants. But let’s be real here, this place is pretty far off the beaten track.”

Another pulse of reassurance.

“Well if you ask me—” the helper figment starts to say.

“I didn’t,” Bucky interrupts before it can say anything else. Damn figment’s been more trouble than it’s worth this whole trip. “Where’s the turn?”

The figment gives him a sullen look. “In five hundred yards, off to the right.”

Even as the figment says it, Bucky spots the glowing lights of the shop in the distance. He slows down and pulls over into one of the parking spots off the street, peering up through the rain at the shop sign above the door.

“Bluebells and Belladonnas,” he reads. “He always did like alliteration.”

“Great,” the figment says waspishly. “Can I go now? I got a hot—”

Bucky flicks his fingers and the figment disappears back to whatever dimension figments come from. Alpine flicks her tail lazily, giving off a sense of amusement and a little bit of hunger. Bucky laughs and scratches her chin again.

“Yeah, I would’ve let you eat it if it wouldn’t have given you indigestion,” he says. “’nother couple of minutes. I’m sure he has fresh tuna for you.”

He sighs and looks at the shop again. The sign on the front says it’s closed but there are lights on inside both in the shop itself and in the apartment above the shop, telling him that the owner is probably still working.

“So what’re you doing sitting out here?” he asks himself. He gives another baleful look at the stormy clouds and the rain still pouring down, groans, and then shrugs his hood up over his head. Nothing for it. The rain isn’t supposed to let up for another couple of hours and Bucky doesn’t feel like sitting in the car that long.

“You gonna be good out here?” he asks Alpine. She blinks slowly at him. That’s a yes, then.

Quick as he can, he gets out and dashes for the cover the awning provides. Once there, he throws his hood back and then knocks on the door. He waits about a minute before knocking again, this time a lot louder. It takes a moment before he sees a person-shaped blob behind the water-streaked glass. He knocks for a third time. The person gets larger as they move closer and then the door unlocks and swings open with a wave of the person’s hand.

“What—”

“You know,” Bucky says, stepping over the threshold. He bites back a shiver as a wave of magic washes over him, verifying that he has no ill intent. “You are a hard person to find.”

“Yeah, some people would take that as a hint,” Tony Stark states flatly, crossing his arms over his chest as he glares at Bucky.

Bucky is born with the ability to see magic. Or, at least, that’s the sfigmentlest way to explain it, if not the most accurate. Just about everyone can “see” magic but what they see are actually just the effects of magic—what was produced or what was done. Bucky has the ability to actually see the threads of magic. It’s a Barnes family gift, although none of the Barnes mages have had this ability in nearly two centuries. Bucky is the first in a very long time and because of that, he ends up having to go to school rather than being trained at home by the family mage (also known as Ma to Bucky and his sister).

It's at school that he meets his best friend, Stevie, and Stevie’s other best friend, Tony. Tony is a bit of an oddball, not that Bucky and Steve are incredibly popular either. Steve should be popular because of his dragon heritage and the power that brings him but he comes into his inheritance late and has a strong sense of morality and that gets him into trouble, more often than not. And Bucky just ends up following behind him.

But Tony—Tony is hard to pin down. He has incredible amounts of power, which is unusual in a mage from the Jarvis line. He’s a lot younger than most of the other kids, which isn’t so unusual for people with a lot of power—Bucky can think of a couple examples off the top of his head of people who went to school early because of their powers—but all those people went to school early because they didn’t have control, and Tony is nothing if not controlled. He doesn’t much look like either of his parents and the way he acts sometimes… it’s clear that he’s been through a lot, is all.

It’s not until their fourth year that Bucky starts putting the pieces together, and it starts when he finds out that Tony doesn’t actually get his powers from the Jarvis line but from the Carbonell line instead. He wasn’t supposed to overhear that but he and Steve had gotten in trouble again and were sitting outside the Headmistress’s office while she finished up a meeting with the Jarvises.

That’s when he’d heard it: “The Carbonell magic is strong in Tony,” the Headmistress had said, and that had been all Bucky had heard as the pieces had started falling into place. It had always puzzled Bucky how Tony’s magic, so suited to big things, had come from the Jarvises, both of whom were more skilled in household charms and enchantments, but if Tony was adopted… Adoption was rare in magical families, as magic was so often tied to filial lines, but it wasn’t unheard of, and that explained so much about Tony.

He spends some time in the library after that, researching the Carbonells. They’re an old line, originating in Italy, before coming to the Americas in the late sixteenth century. They’re known for producing powerful mages with the exact same proficiency in metallurgy that Tony’s always demonstrated. The last of them, Maria, had married one of the Starks, a newer family with a proficiency in elemental magics—another of Tony’s skills, Bucky realizes—and that’s where the trail goes cold. He never finds another mention of the Carbonells, or the Starks for that matter, in any of the old history books.

But there has to be more to the story, Bucky knows. Because there’s Tony, who looks just like Maria Carbonell, and that means there has to be more. However, he never brings it up. That’s Tony’s story, and if he doesn’t want to tell them, he doesn’t have to.

He never stops hoping that Tony will, though.

Tony is looking at him now, eyes dark and arms crossed. Bucky has changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt he’d brought with him as his clothes had ended up drenched, even from just the short run from the car and back out to grab Alpine and his travel bag. His clothes are drying by the fire now as Alpine explores the apartment, sniffing around curiously. Bucky is curious as well, but he’s been so busy drinking in the sight of Tony after almost two years of nothing that he hasn’t taken the time yet to look around.

“What are you doing here, Bucky?” Tony asks eventually.

He shrugs. “I came to find you.”

“Thought I made it obvious I didn’t want to be found.”

“I thought we had unfinished business,” Bucky says quietly. He gazes at Tony steadily until Tony squirms and turns away, busying himself with the coffeepot on the counter. He prepares two cups of coffee, one with more sugar than most people can stand and one with more milk than coffee, and hands the one with milk to Bucky.

Bucky takes one sip and blinks in surprise. “This is decaf,” he says.

“Yeah, and?”

“Tony, you don’t drink decaf. You called it the devil’s brew.”

There’s a hint of a smile lurking around the corners of Tony’s mouth as he raises his own cup to his mouth. “I’d forgotten about that.”

“Seems like you’ve forgotten a lot of things.”

“Like what?”

“Like how I promised you I’d follow you anywhere.”

Tony stills for a moment before he puts his cup back down on the counter. “Bucky—”

“Tony, why?” Bucky asks, not even bothering to hide the anguish in his voice. It’s how he’s felt every day since Tony disappeared two years ago. “You told me we’d talk the next day, only I woke up to find you’d run. Did I push too hard? Was it not what you wanted?” He stops, frustrated and upset, and scrubs his hand over his face.

“Bucky, no,” Tony says, dismayed. He moves forward, taking Bucky’s hands between his. “It wasn’t you. You have to believe me. It was never you.”

“Then what was it?”

Tony bites his lip, hesitating. Even without using his Sight, Bucky can see golden magic swirling under Tony’s skin, pooling at his hands where they’re touching Bucky’s. He blinks and now he can see his own magic, cool silver, gathering at his fingertips, aching to reach out and touch Tony’s. Their magic has always been compatible, always stronger when they’re together, even before Bucky figured out his complicated feelings for Tony.

“Doll?” he asks, immediately regretting the pet name when it makes Tony flinch. He doesn’t take it back though. This is who he is, a little old-fashioned and a little flirty and a lot in love with Tony Stark.

“It’s me,” Tony eventually admits, looking down at their hands as though he can see the magic too. “I got scared. It’s—I’m not who you think I am.”

“Not what? Not a Jarvis? Tony, I’ve known that for ten years.”

Tony’s head jerks up so fast Bucky’s own neck aches in sympathy. “What did you say?”

“Tony, I know you’re not a Jarvis,” Bucky says again, patiently. He’s never admitted this to anyone before, let alone Tony. He can afford to be careful right now.

“How did you know that?” Tony breathes. “We’ve never told anyone.”

“Except for the Headmistress,” Bucky points out. “You prob’ly had to tell her so she could help you with your abilities.”

“We did,” Tony whispers.

He shrugs. “Stevie and I overheard her one time. She said your magic came from the Carbonell line. I got curious, thought it might explain why you and the Jarvises are so different, so I looked it up.”

“You didn’t think that was invading my privacy?”

The words are harsh but Tony doesn’t look upset. He looks—hopeful, almost, like he wants to believe Bucky knows everything about him and doesn’t judge him for it. It makes Bucky bold and he steps forward, right into Tony’s space, as he tugs one of his hands free and uses it to tuck one of Tony’s curls behind his ear, fingers brushing against his cheek.

“You are a puzzle I’ve only ever wanted to solve,” Bucky murmurs, bowing his head to rest his forehead against Tony’s. His hand cups Tony’s cheek for the briefest moment and then falls to his shoulder. Tony closes his eyes and inhales shakily. “But the moment the trail went cold, I stopped looking. It didn’t seem right to keep digging.”

“What did you find?” Tony asks.

“Two names: Howard Stark and Maria Carbonell, that’s it.”

Tony nods. “Those were my parents.”

“Were?”

“Could be are. I don’t know where they went after they left me, but I stopped calling them mine the moment they were gone.”

“What happened?” He feels Tony tense under his hand and quickly adds, “If you want to tell me. Don’t feel like you have to.”

“No, it’s—I want to,” Tony says, sounding frustrated. The space between his brows furrows in irritation. “I’ve just never told anyone and—I’m not sure I’m ready to tell the full story yet. It’s a lot.”

“Whatever you’re ready for, then. And when you’re ready for the rest, I’ll be right here to listen.”

Tony takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “I was born at Rosewood Manor,” he says quietly.

“That place outside of town?”

“Mmhmm. That’s my magic you probably saw guarding it.”

Bucky sucks in a sharp breath. “Tony, that place looks like it hasn’t had anyone living there for fifteen years.”

“Over twenty actually. I was three when—when that happened.”

“You were three? And you had that kind of control?”

Tony laughs humorlessly. “Believe me, that night I had no control at all.” He falls silent. Bucky waits for more, but Tony seems to be done talking for tonight, so he turns his head and kisses the corner of Tony’s mouth instead.

“Thank you for telling me,” he says.

Tony grimaces. “Not like I told you much of anything.”

“You told me what you were comfortable with. Believe me, doll, after two years of nothing—”

“You keep doing that,” Tony interrupts. “Calling me doll.”

Bucky hesitates. “I thought you liked it when I did that.”

Tony looks away, a bitter twist to his mouth. “I left.”

“Yeah…”

“I left right after you kissed me because I was scared and couldn’t face up to what was going on between us even though I promised we’d talk.”

Bucky waits, sure that if he stays silent, Tony will explain further. It’s a trick that he’s used in the past and it’s always worked. Sure enough, after another couple moments:

“You know, I was so sure you were dating Steve? Let me finish please,” Tony says calmly, holding up a hand when Bucky opens his mouth. “You don’t know what it was like. I might have met Steve first but it was so clear that you two were a lot closer than I would ever be with him. So yes, I was convinced you two were dating and that I was alone in my feelings and when I found out I wasn’t, I panicked. I thought it was Tony Jarvis you liked, not—”

“I like you,” Bucky interrupts, unable to keep hearing Tony talk about how he’d thought Bucky wasn’t serious about him, when he thinks maybe it’s the only thing he’s ever been serious about. “I like you as Tony Jarvis, Tony Carbonell, Tony Stark, or just plain Tony.”

“Like?” Tony asks shyly.

Bucky grins and kisses the other corner of Tony’s mouth. “Do you think I would have kept searching for you for two years if I didn’t still like you?”

Tony leans back for a moment, searching his eyes for something before he eventually says, “And what about Tony Barnes?”

Bucky’s heart about stops. He wheezes out, “You—”

“It’s not—I needed a name when I came back to Ravenspoint. I didn’t want anyone to know who I was and it’s a small town. People know every other name I go by, but—I didn’t think you’d mind or I wouldn’t—”

Bucky can’t stop himself anymore. He frames Tony’s face in his hands and kisses him soundly. It’s closed-mouthed and chaste and it’s still the best damn kiss he’s ever had, next to the only other time he kissed Tony. Tony’s hands flutter in the air for a second before wrapping around Bucky’s waist, clutching him to him.

“I love you calling yourself by my name,” he says hoarsely, pulling away long enough to get the words out before he kisses Tony again. “And one day, I swear I’ll give you that name for real, forever and always.” This time, it’s Tony who whfigmenters and kisses him again, sucking Bucky’s tongue into his mouth as Bucky’s hands slide back into his hair to hold him right where he wants him.

“Wait,” Tony pants, struggling against Bucky’s grip to move away. Bucky lets him go reluctantly, gratified when Tony only moves a couple inches. “How did you find me?”

“Your magic,” Bucky tells him, trailing kisses across every inch of his face. “It’s been callin’ out to me since the day you left, leavin’ me a trail to follow.”

“Lucky me,” Tony whispers.

And as Bucky kisses him again, unable to resist for a single second, he thinks to himself, No. Lucky me.

#alle writes #winteriron #birthday prompts #if you like please consider reblogging #alle answers #jkirk09

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seriouslysam8 · 3 years

Note

For the ask game, would you please answer questions numbered 2, 8, 14 (all of your titles have such cool names), 18 (I hope Abditory isn't one of them as that story rocks), 21, 24, 29, 30, 33, 34, 44, 51, 62, 76, 82, 85, 88, 90, and 98.

Sorry for asking so many, but I love your work! Entombed gave me so many feels! I found your stories because author Breanie said to read them in her author's notes. Best rec ever! Thank you for answering.

Wow, that is a lot of asks! Thank you so much for wanting to know so much about little ole me. I think I hit them all in this and my apologies if I missed one. Let me know if I missed one. @breaniebree is awesome and my writing BFF. She is amazing, and I love her.

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one?

So, I’ve written for The X-Files, Supernatural, and Harry Potter. I currently only write for Harry Potter. I would say Harry Potter has always been the most fun.

8) Where do you take your inspiration from?

Random shit. Brontide came to me because I was browsing the HPFanfiction subreddit looking for a story suggestion and someone asked for a story where Harry was addicted to Felix. Only one unfinished dimensional time travel story was listed. It idea sparked me to write my own version. Entombed came to me because I was rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer where Buffy was buried alive. I knew I wanted to bury Ginny alive. As I stated in the author’s notes of last Kalopsia chapter, I drew inspiration from the Djinn storyline in Supernatural. I write about things I know, too. I have young kids at home so I like writing the Potter children as young because I can mimic their mannerisms in my writing. I’ve even asked my kids to say certain words to emulate their speech pattern in my writing if I’m writing that age group.

14) How did you come up with the title for the XXX? You can ask about multiple stories.

I HATE coming up with titles. My newest trend has been to literally Google “unique words”. There are a ton of Pinterest accounts who make fancy word and definition pictures. I scroll through all these little unique words and pick out ones I think fit a story. Sometimes I Google a unique word for BLANK and see if I can get a cool version of that name. @breaniebree actually helped me with Entombed.

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

Sadly, I would put Abditory in this category. Never say never though. I think about it from time to time. Honestly, I abandoned it due to such a negative response I was receiving and the lack of positive response. I became discouraged. It wasn’t even negative response due to my writing, it was literally a bunch of “why would you waste your time writing a story about the biggest plot hole in the books? JKR butchered the whole SK storyline and it’s unbearable to read.” So, basically, my reviews and PMs were filled with JKR hate over that plot point in the books. They heavily outweighed the positive reviews I received. Honestly, I think that’s why a bulk of stories get abandoned - lack of positive reviews or enthusiasm for a story. If I didn’t get so many great reviews for my stories, I don’t know if I’d be able to finish them or continuing writing new ones. Fanfiction is free, (as it should be) but it’s a lot of time and hard work. A little appreciation goes a LONG way. So, my advice, review everything you love reading and encourage writers to keep writing. I always say in my authors notes that reviews make me want to write and inspire me. That’s the truth. The moment I stop getting reviews will probably be the time I take a writing break again.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

@breaniebree. I mean she’s dedicated years to a single story with so many plot lines and characters that I’m amazed she did it. She’s a fantastic writer, and I definitely consider her my writing BFF. I feel like I’ve learned a lot from her and enjoy talking about writing with her so much. I’m so glad we’ve become friends.

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes?

Horrified. Anytime I get a little steamy in my stories, it goes immediately to @breaniebree who usually adds way too much smut and then I cut it down to still be somewhat PG-13 in order to appeal to a wider audience.

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

I feel like Kalopsia isn’t getting as much love as my other stories. I’m way behind in my normal review count per chapter. I wonder if it’s just the confusing storyline or if it’s just not as fun to read? But I was definitely worried it wouldn’t get the love I thought it deserved when I started writing it and it’s lived up to that expectation.

30) In contrast to 29, is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?

Cronus Rising. People still recommend it occasionally and I still get random reviews. I’m like, “why????” Its horribly written and a stupid plot line. I literally was getting back into writing after not writing for a good five years, so it’s abysmal. I’ve often wanted to rage delete it.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

When someone tells me I should write an original novel and they’d buy the hell out of it. I do have some original novel ideas floating around (one I’ve been writing since I was like 15), but crippling fear of rejection from publishers have stopped me from ever actually finish an original novel.

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?

I got some criticism in Brontide for having drama for drama’s sake with no real purpose or goal for said drama. I felt my drama served a purpose, drove the story along, and I add a lot of fluffy and cute family moments. I feel like in real life, when you to your loved one is going through sometime, it feels like nonstop drama and bad news and like a dark cloud just follows you. I wanted to emulate that in real life. So Harry’s POV was often drab because HE was the one going through something horrific and it was all doom and gloom for him.

44) What is the last line you wrote?

“You never think I listen to your ramblings, but it’s kind of hard to block out, mate.”

51) From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

Um... I’d say a 3. I think I have some good and unique plots for stories but sometimes I struggle on how to execute those on paper effectively. I struggle with descriptions, action, and showing rather than telling. But I do think I’m good at dialogue and capturing a character’s personality. So, 3.

62) Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

A lot! I have a Teddy/Victoire stalker story in the works that I’m excited about. I have (this is going to sound weird) but an outsider rom-com planned where Ron/Hermione breakup right before Hinny’s wedding and Hinny struggles to get them back together before the big day. I have a Potter family vacation fluff/comedy story planned. I have a game night one-shot planned. I have a short story about Luna’s wedding. So many that I want to write and don’t know which one to write first!!

76) Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

I’d say no. I’ve always tried to write my ideas down. Some I’ve never finished because inspiration peters off and some I plan on finishing once my newest big project is done.

82) Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less.

Harry goes through some shit, and Ginny is his soulmate.

85) Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I don’t understand why people don’t ship Harry/Ginny more. I don’t understand the Harry/Daphne obsessions (like just why???) or the Harry/Hermione ship at all. I always see people asking for story recommendation and they specific say “no Harry/Ginny”. They are literally perfect for one another and they are soulmates.

88) If you could ask one other fanfic author three questions about their writing, writing process, or works, what would they be and who would you ask?

@breaniebree .

1.) How do you organize all your charts? Send me the ALL the charts. Because I don’t understand how you keep everything straight!

2.) How do you write so much? You’re like a little writing machine in a cute little package.

3.) Where do all the ideas come from? In a dream? Just thinking? Driving? Do you write everything out in your head like meeee? Can I have some of your writing mojo?

90) How do you process and deal with negative reviews?

I obsess over them. I analyze them. I may get bummed out and not write for a few days. If you don’t like what I write, then don’t read or review. It’s a hobby. I do this for free. I’m not asking you to critique me. Give me a nice review or ask me a question, but don’t be cruel or mean because you can hide behind a keyboard and be a bully to make yourself feel superior.

98) If you had to give up either snacks and drinks during writing sessions, or music, which would you find more difficult to say goodbye to and why?

Music. I grew up with three older brothers. My house was always rowdy and loud and obnoxious. I need it to be loud. I can’t stand the silence or focus when it’s silent. I need music to help me think and write. When I’m home alone, I always turn on the TV or music, because I can’t stand when it’s silent. I think I’d go insane.

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bubblesthemonsterartist · 3 years

Text

*cracks knuckles* Clearly I’m going straight for the Blackout.

ENJOY, FRIENDS. FOR YOU, I THROW IT UNDER THE CUT

Under 1000 Words

take my burdens (and bury them deep) by @thelionshymnal Rated M Nothing makes me happier than a fic of my favorite BroTP, especially when Obi is offering to disappear Kiki’s dirty dealings. Content warning for attempted sexual assault and Obi doing what he does best: getting rid of the body.

A Fic That Got You Involved In Fandom

Seven Suitors for Shirayuki by @sabraeal Rated T Look. You all are just going to have to accept that there is a certain generation of this fandom that was dragged in, kicking and screaming, by this fic. I wanted to diversify by saying something else managed it, but no. It was the fact that this story was stuck on chapter five for MONTHS that made me vibrate until my own fic fell out. XD

Made You Laugh Out Loud

An Extra Rise Before Dawn by @sabraeal Rated G I don’t often worry that I am going to pee from laughing so hard when I’m reading something, but this one definitely does. In one spot in particular. You might be able to guess it. It is simultaneously an incredible sweet and incredibly funny fic that hits all the right notes for me.

Favorite Trope Reversal

Fussing with Firedrakes by @leewritingrecs Rated T 1) Dragons. 2) Damsel in distress is no damsel and she is NOT in distress thank you very much 3) Kiki is a DRAGON 4) Obi is cursed, and 5) DID I MENTION D R A G O N S ???

Fic That Made You Friends With the Author

The Wide Florida Bay by @sabraeal Rated E I had to think about this because while I read Seven Suitors first, this was the series that made me start sending anons and eventually made me join tumblr where I proceeded to endlessly play the ‘what if’ game with Jen. CLEARLY this is where our friendship was forged.

Action-Packed Fight Scene

Agent, Parts I, II, and III by @infinitelystrangemachinex Rated T Like Jen, I was positively torn, because both Andi and Sarah do fight scenes SO WELL, but Agent ultimately won out because there is just something so delightful about Shirayuki flailing and clinging to Obi like a cat that doesn’t want to go in the bath while arrows zip all around them

Edit: Screw it, I’m reccing them both

Republic of Tanbarun by @claudeng80 Rated T An action adventure series where romance is involved but is by no means the focus. Zen and Obi adventures abound. Politics galore. And some masterfully done slow-motion to quick motion fight scenes that I L O V E D

Gen Fic

Fugue in Three by @infinitelystrangemachinex Rated G Ryuu casually destroys Obi and Shirayuki by breathing as they count down the days until he comes of age. Technically this fic has a romantic pairing, but it is by no means the focus of this fic. If you don’t agree, you are welcome to meet me under the Big Oak between the hours of 12 and 4 for a duel.

Missing Scene

Like Brothers Do by @claudeng80 Rated G Obi is clearly Kiki’s annoying big brother and handles Mitsuhide’s rejection in the best way he knows how. Also read: Mitsuhide gets what’s coming to him. (ง'̀-'́)ง

Canon Divergent

We work at the mall by @kaedix Rated T With how many AUs we got floating around this fandom, I was hard pressed to choose a favorite. But there is just something so sweet and wholesome and American teenager about this. It just latches onto you and never lets go. (Also the gang all work at my favorite places in the mall when I was growing up. What’s not to love?)

Steamiest Kiss

Were Hearts Not An Unknown Country by @sabraeal Rated T LOOK. SOMEONE was going to have to go dig this out of the rubble of her compilation fics and it might as well be me. Also the birthplace of the much loved AnS fandom practice of solstice kissing.

Contains Your Favorite Headcanon

The road to Clarines is Gravel by @codango Rated E Not the focus of the fic as a whole, but like, Torou and Obi are siblings. GALAXY MIND EXPLOSION. I mean, I loved that so much that I wrote a pre-canon fic of this fic. Additional note totally not related to the bingo square: I will ALWAYS be here for positive sex worker representation in fics. Fair warning, though, this is the most unfair AU in existence because the brain screams that it SHOULDN’T WORK and yet by some sort of writerly sorcery, it DOES. PLEASE READ IT IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY.

Wept Real Tears

let it make you by @thelionshymnal Rated M It’s not every day that someone manages to write a fic that makes me stare numbly at the very first line for a solid 15 minutes, big fat tears rolling down my cheeks, but Hymn did it. And then she somehow managed to kiss it better. All in 1100 words.

Free Space

AnS Role Swap AU by @owlsshadows Rated M This series has it all. Shirayuki as an assassin. Obi as both a royal bastard and a pharmacist. A mysterious meeting out in the woods where it makes you question whether Nanaki and Obi are two different people or the same. Also Zen having some very conflicted feelings regarding his royal authority and how he can choose to handle rejection.

Edit: Since I’ve already doubled up once, let me double up again, I have so much love to give and not enough space to give it!

Blizzard by @nebluus Rated T This is one of the earliest fics I read in this fandom and it remains to date one of my absolute favorites. Obi gets hurt protecting his Miss and a blizzard rolls in. Thankfully they find a cabin where Obi, who is definitely on his death bed if no one finds them and SOON, proceeds to still fuss over his Miss. Best scene: When he warms her hands with his. Also the second chapter is all sorts of delightful domesticity I IMPLORE you to please read it and soon.

Favorite Fan-Made OC

All Pain Will Turn to Medicine by @sabraeal Rated M All y’all should’ve seen these coming from ten miles out. I fucking LOVE Herr Anda, the cantankerous little bastard. And Jen knows this because she designed him specifically with me in mind. Academic catnap >:|

AU That Made You Find the Source Material

All Knotted Up by @sabraeal Rated G Admittedly, there are a great many AUs out there that made me look up the source material, but this Tangled AU is the most recent because I finally got on Disney+. And yes, Mitsuhide is the horse. Ryuu may be Pascal a little bit, but Mitsuhide. He’s The Horse. XD

First AnS Fic You Read

Loyalty by Evelyn Fiedler Rated K+ (which is basically G on AO3) My one and only ff.net rec from my earliest days in the fandom when I was combing for absolutely any content I could find, begging the fandom to help me decide if I was down for Obiyuki and all that it implied and this author most assuredly delivered.

Favorite Minor Character

Undertow by @jhalya Rated E The fic itself is a space odyssey of sorts. One mission among many where humanity attempts to colonize Mars. However the real selling point here, if you didn’t know, is Lord Seiran. He is a delightfully eccentric billionaire who clearly always wanted a large family, judging from how easily he fills out the adoption paperwork.

WIP

Caulk dirty to me by @leewritingrecs Rated E Have I mentioned I love the sex worker trope? I. Love. The. Sex. Worker. Trope. Also Obi is clearly divine at all of his jobs. Shirayuki already got to experience his skills at one of them. I wait with BAITED BREATH for her to experience the other :3

Canon Compliant

Thicker than Blood by @infinitelystrangemachinex Rated G In the aftermath of the death of King Kain, Izana and Zen must decide on which path they will take moving forward. Amazing fic. Unfinished, but a wonderful look into the dynamics between the Wisteria brothers and their absent mother.

One-Shot

Worth his Weight in Rice by @claudeng80 Rated T AU set in an Edo-adjacent Period where a disease has wiped killed off a significant portion of the male population. Resulting societal shifts occur. If you go into the comments, I have a couple of pages worth of reasons why I love this AU, but what I appreciate even more is how you have an absolutely perfect oneshot in this fic. It is a well-translated universe where we get a delightful clear, beginning, middle, and end, all in 5k. NOT an easy feat. Please enjoy.

Rare Pair

the fog pushing through my mind by @thelionshymnal Rated E Obi/Yuzuri, friends with benefits. Two pining idiots with some sore feelings decide to get stoned and take comfort in another warm body for the night. I just really enjoyed the casual intimacy of the encounter and how this is clearly neither of their first experiences with a one night stand. Neither of them are going to make it weird in the morning, they just need to take the edge off, ya know? Additional bonus for Obi being ready to stab the dumbasses who made Yuzuri feel like she was a weirdo in her past.

AU You Took a Chance On (And Now Love)

Lightning in a Bottle by @jhalya Rated M I mean, if Jules is gonna play dirty by making Obi the hot fish man running around without his shirt on 99% of the time, then of COURSE I’m going to enjoy Deep Blue Sea. It’s, like, one of my favorite movies now.

Favorite Trope

Moonshine Phantom by @leewritingrecs Rated T We got a murder muffin who ALSO used to be a sex worker? Sign me the fuck up, I am 1000% here for this. Also all the showgirls who clearly love their coworker and only want him and his adorable wife to have the best. They may have never heard of her before, but she looks sweet, and they all have a silent agreement between them that if she breaks his heart, they’ll cut her.

Fic That Gave You a New OTP

What the Heart Wants by @sabraeal Rated G Haruto/Mukaze. An attempted kidnapping and subsequent rescue makes Zen and Shirayuki painfully aware that their parents have had, at some point in their lives, sex. Izana may not be happy about someone banging his mom, but is HE rather pleased at having a new sister. >:3c

Pre-Canon

The Wolf in the Woods by @krispy-kream (YES I STILL HAVE THIS BOOKMARKED) Rated G Everyone knows that I have very delicate food feels and this ALMOST went under the Wept Real Tears category, but I like to spread out the crying as much as possible XD Shirayuki finds a boy at the edge of the wood and decides he needs something to eat. Filed under: Guaranteed to wreck me in 500 words or less.

#ansficbingo #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #PLEASE ENJOY ALL THE PRETTY FICS #I LOVE THEM ALL AND HOLD THEM DEAR

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akindofmagictoo · 3 years

Text

20 first lines tag game

this comes from @zmlorenz and also I think @amillionwips — thank you both!

rules: list the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20 stories just list them all). see if there are any patterns. choose your favourite opening line. then tag others.

(I will tag @writingbyjillian @pamsdrabbles @sleepyowlwrites and anyone who wants to play!)

Hurricane

Tempest stilled her bouncing leg, eyeing her sleeping husband. Had she woken him? She took a careful breath and didn’t let it go until he snored and rolled over, pulling the covers tighter around himself. Still she waited. One breath. Two breaths. When he still didn’t move, she stood up and grabbed her coat and sword belt, not even bothering to put them on. Because she had to leave, and she had to leave today.

Theo x Aella Little Mermaid AU

Water closed over his head, tugged at his clothes. Tugged him down… down…

He wanted to cry out for help, but the water filled up his mouth before he could make a sound. Cold stole into his limbs, heavy and dark, weighing him down.

His chest ached, searching for air. Deep, cold darkness wrapped around him. Dragging, pressing, pulling down.

Down… down… down…

When he’d hit the water, he’d panicked. That was gone now. All he felt was the cold, the deep dark cold.

a random post-canon Theo x Aella oneshot

Thunder rumbled overhead, blending into the drumming of the rain on the roof. Aella tucked her blanket more tightly around herself, but it did no good. She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t keep her mind off the locked front door, Alanna’s instruction to stay inside. It felt too much like other locked doors. Every time she closed her eyes, she was back there again and—

No. Sitting in this bed alone with her thoughts would do no good.

a post-canon Theo x Aella oneshot (sort of the former version of the one above)

“Read the mermaid one again.” Aella snuggled against Theo, pressed up between him and the arm of the big old armchair.

a Theo x Aella modern AU

Even with a map on his phone, Theo was impressed he’d made it to the small cafe on the main street. True, it was the main street, but his new house wasn’t, and directions weren’t his forte. Given how recently he’d moved, it was at least understandable.

The cafe was small, but its list of drink options was larger than he’d expected. But it included several types of tea, so he ordered a familiar English Breakfast and sat down at the nearest table.

post-canon oneshot of the Hurricane women play ‘theatre’

“So, who’s up next?” Aria stretched out in her hammock. “As much as I enjoyed being the defence lawyer, I think it’s someone else’s turn.”

“I’ll play the accused. I want to try my daring escape again,” Aella volunteered, sitting up.

Theo grinned. “Because you got caught last time?”

a crossover royalty AU with another project (Labyrinth)

(this isn’t the first line, but it’s the first lines where Theo appears. also, you would be correct if you assume that the Spanish princess is not Aella. that is the complication.)

“Spain confirmed the marriage alliance,” said Jared. “We still have to confirm it one last time, though.”

Theo glanced up at his dad. “Hardly surprising, really. They offered it, after all.”

Jared nodded. “Are you still alright with this? We can turn them down now, if you want.”

“My calendar is free,” said Theo, straight-faced. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve got my eye on someone else or whatever. Just as long as I’m not expected to actually have a romantic relationship with the Spanish princess.”

the below are all fanfictions. [ps my AO3 is @/ sidebysidewithafriend go check it out if any of these fics interest you]

Shadow and Cottontail (Harry Potter: Marauders (OC insert))

(this is co-written, I’m posting the first part that I wrote)

“Is there mail today?” Kai Lupin jumped the last step down to the dining room. This was the same question she’d been asking for five days, but she asked anyway.

Her mother Hope was about to answer when an owl swooped through the open window, a parchment envelope clutched in its beak.

“I think the answer is yes,” said Remus, descending the stairs behind her with a little more care than she’d taken. Kai rolled her eyes and crossed the room to see what the envelope contained.

Hope was already taking it from the owl. “It’s from Hogwarts,” Hope said, and Kai’s heart leapt, only to be dashed by her mother’s next words. “But there’s only one envelope. It’s addressed to you, Kai.”

Told You You’d Kill It (Harry Potter: Romione)

“Ugh.” Ron shoved his books to one side and ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in all different directions. Hermione hid a smile as Ron drew his hands inside his jumper sleeves.

Through a yawn, he continued, “I’m done. I’m so tired.” Probably from his basketball training, but schoolwork was also a struggle for him, she knew. And they’d been studying in the library for several hours now. No wonder he was exhausted.

Thank You For Saving My Cat (Harry Potter: Jily)

Lily pushed herself up to a sitting position and breathed a small sigh of relief. At least she was out. She turned back to the house, watching the orange flames that danced over the structure with her heart in her throat. Was it her imagination, or were they growing smaller?

Most of her stuff could be replaced. But she hoped nonetheless that she wouldn’t have to.

Then she remembered the one thing she’d left behind and couldn’t replace. Crookshanks. She stumbled to her feet. Legs shaking under her, she ran to the nearest firefighter and grabbed their sleeve. The firefighter gear covered its occupant’s face, but the voice sounded male. “Are you alright?” He took her arm gently, steadying her.

3AM (Harry Potter: Wolfstar)

The beeping of the fire alarm filtered into Sirius’s sleeping brain, burrowing in until he couldn’t help but wake up. At which point he groaned and wrapped his pillow around his head, trying to block out the noise.

But this was a fire alarm, so really he had to get up. Grudgingly, he removed the pillow from his head and fumbled for his phone to check the time. The light from the screen was blinding in the darkness of his dorm room, but after a moment his eyes adjusted to see that it was 3:07 AM.

Give Him Back to Me (The Great Library: Wolfe x Santi)

Day 1

“Nic?” Wolfe half-rose from the bed at the sound of knocking, leaving his Codex open beside him. Something was off, though. Nic wouldn’t knock. He had a key. Besides, Nic was away in Belgium, training a new company. He wasn’t due back for another day or two, and that was assuming everything went to plan.

Nevertheless, when the knock came again he got to his feet and headed for the door.

Death Is Not Fair (Shadowhunters: (very angsty) Malec)

It wasn’t fair. Then again, life wasn’t fair.

And neither was death.

It shouldn’t have happened. It should have been a simple mission. The scans and all the reports had said there was just one demon in the area. It was a larger, stronger demon, and would’ve put up a good fight, but it was still practically nothing to a Shadowhunter like Alec.

Untitled (Shadowhunters: Sizzy) (unfinished and un-posted)

Izzy was swearing off dating. She’d kind of thought about it before, but hearing about the amount of drama in Jace’s love life right now cemented the idea firmly in her mind. No more dating. Between that and the mess Alec had gone through a couple of months ago, she wasn’t sure she wanted any part of that. Not to mention that of all the boys she’d dated, none of the relationships had really been right. Did she believe in The One? She wasn’t sure. But none of her boyfriends had been it, that was for sure. So no more dating for her. She was here to study forensic chemistry, after all, and surely it was better to concentrate on that.

Moving Day (Riordanverse: Blitzstone)

Last? signed Hearth.

Blitz brushed a speck of dust from the shoulder of his shirt, studying Hearth’s face. He knew exactly how many boxes were left to move, and it was more than zero, but the elf was looking paler than usual. If that was possible. As he watched, Hearth swayed a little and put a hand on the wall for support. “No. But I’ll get the rest. You need a break.”

Untitled quarantine AU (Riordanverse: Percabeth) (unfinished and un-posted)

“Thanks for letting me stay over to finish this project,” said Annabeth, setting the last piece on the model Coliseum she’d made. They’d done most of it last night, and she was just adding the finishing touches now. Although that had been before school had been shut down; they’d been notified the night before, but since she was here she’d been determined to finish it.

Untitled (The Hobbit) (I have a “better version of Tauriel’s arc” thing in the works, and this is an accompanying oneshot of how the Durins died in this version) (un-posted)

“Where is he? It looks empty. I think Azog has fled.” Fili glanced around nervously, his breath steaming in the icy air.

“I don’t think so,” said Thorin.

Footsteps sounded on the ice, echoing in all directions. It was impossible to know their source.

“We’ve got company,” Thorin growled.

Kili readied his sword.

This was practically everyday for them at this point. Every motion of his sword, every footstep, every bit of it was familiar. Fili hardly had to think. His sword flashed in the faint light. Droplets of blood and crystals of ice spattered his exposed skin, hot and cold. He was at home here; he might not have been on the ice before, but with a sword in his hand and Kili and Thorin at his back, he was content.

this is VERY long. if you read to here, thank you! and maybe consider reading some of them in full on my AO3?

#tag game #20 first lines tag #wip hurricane #wip labyrinth #zoe writes

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singingaboutwishingx · 3 years

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last one for now- what were your favorite parts of writing this amazing series? what were the hardest parts to get through?

ahh!! love this question.

favorite parts:

donna’s birthday scene: when i first came up with the concept for that scene, i was like “oh, that’s evil. this is gonna rock” and it DID. i seriously had so much fun picking out music and writing it in a way that would give it the right ambience. i loved deciding that it would be “oldies night” at the bar, i loved having bram interrupt them, and i love, love, loved writing the bit where josh and donna are slow dancing.

original outline: my very first concept for the fic was “donna moss is thirty-one years old and a media consultant for taylor, kinsey & stone when she receives a phone call from a friend. annabeth schott calls her about toby ziegler, the new press secretary, and girl have you seen him? please help me. so naturally she goes down to dc to help annabeth (who used to work at tk&s— donna was her assistant before she got promoted) and she helps whip toby into shape and meets josh and there’s mild flirty banter and oh yeah, didn’t you tell the press about a secret plan to fight inflation? and anyway they fall in love.” i loved figuring out how donna got to be where she was and how she and josh could work together. the very first things i wrote were a full timeline of what i thought should happen in the story and a timeline for donna from the moment she arrived in nyc to the beginning of the story (which ended up becoming the altered red lights scene).

including canon things: it just absolutely tickled me to have established canon things show up (sometimes in the same way, sometimes not). there’s one particular note in my early outlining that stands out to me because i think it perfectly exemplifies what i was trying to do: “they can kind of both feel that this friendship was destiny”. even though things might be different, josh and donna are still josh and donna. they were bound to fall in love sometime.

hardest parts (under the cut):

the time: as mentioned before, sigue andando... took me nearly eight months to publish, and about seven of those were spent trying to get a first draft. it was mostly because i was very busy and didn’t always have time to sit down and make myself write, but there were so many times when i just wouldn’t be inspired. i would get stuck. there was a long, long time during which i was really afraid i wouldn’t finish it because i couldn’t find the right words or the right scenes or the right way to do something. i’m not going to lie, i was tentatively planning to release an unfinished version (original outlines, some of the scenes, etc) because while i was proud of what i had written and i wanted people to see it, i just didn’t think i had it in me to complete my story. there was a turning point around march where i realized that i did have it in me, and that’s when i started posting about it, partially as a motivator for myself—i knew that if you all heard about it, and at least one of you expressed interest, i would feel more like i could finish it.

the timeline: i went back and forth on the exact months over which sigue andando... would take place. i always knew that it needed to start in june 2005 because of the timing of leo’s heart attack/cj’s promotion, but i switched a couple times between starting donna’s santos campaign involvement in february 2006 or august 2006. a big jump, i know, but i was very worried about justifying donna being there for months before the dnc but not being hired as its communications director. i loved the nine months of slow burn for josh and donna, and it felt like i was cutting that down too much. i thought it felt rushed and cramped. i never loved the idea of starting in august, but at some point, i realized that a) i wasn’t even having josh hire her full-time or as more than a consultant before then, and b) i can imagine what their résumés looked like. donna may have consulted on some political campaigns, but louise has made a career out of specifically political communications and has several years of experience over donna.

eight years: i agonized for an extremely long time over how josh would exist without donna. donna’s timeline was easy to come up with, but how did josh make it this far? rosslyn and its aftermath were particularly difficult, as was figuring out why josh would leave for the santos campaign without donna’s exit to catalyze it. (once i figured it out, though, there was actually one draft of the scene where josh explained why he left where i thought i was having him explain it too well and i was like “okay. josh is not quite self-aware enough to go into this much depth. mans isn’t doing serious psychological evals on himself”, so i had to scale it back lol.)

“i wouldn’t stop for red lights”: this was a particularly hard one. when i wrote that scene originally, i just included the “red lights” line because why wouldn’t i? the more i thought about it, though, the more i realized that they weren’t there yet. there was no rosslyn. they’d known each other less than a year. each had feelings for the other, and they were pretty good friends at that point, but they just weren’t there. once i knew i had to change donna’s line, it took me so long to settle on describing the look on donna’s face and the “if it was you, i wouldn’t stop either.” this is mostly because i refused to let go of the “and donna turns and walks out the door and josh can’t breathe” line, which i’d written when it was still about red lights. i was like “but it has to be DRAMATIC”, and achieving that while still making the line make sense in the context of her character was very hard for me to do.

while in general, it was a joy to write this fic, it was super stressful at times—i think i was putting a lot of pressure on myself because it was so long.

i’m hosting a new york donna q&a in my ask box because i require attention. come ask me things!

#bianca answers the tea #new york donna

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seven-oomen · 3 years

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Creator Tag Game

I was tagged by @for-the-love-of-wolves

RULES: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works <3

1. Once Upon a Time ( 99.768 words)

(Teen Wolf, The DILF Club, Chris/Peter/Noah, A/B/O)

Summary: Having one soulmate is a blessing, having two is cosmic. Chris Argent left town seventeen years ago under the threat of his family, only returning briefly eleven years later for a funeral. When he left again he couldn't have foreseen the circumstances that led to the Hale fire and yet, he blames himself for it. So when he finally returns with his three pups in tow, he has to navigate a barrage of emotions, old friends and lovers, and murders being committed in the town where it all began.

Notes: I feel like I would be lying to myself if I said that this wasn’t my favorite creation of all time. It’s been SO therapeutic to write, has gotten me through hallucinations, ptsd attacks, panic attacks, and my own worst memories. It’s truly what I consider to be my magnum opus and is still ongoing. It’s a story about found family, about trauma recovery, and rekindling old flames while overcoming your past demons.

2. Once Upon a Time trailer (1:37 long)

What is it? A little video project I made as a trailer for Once upon A Time and it still makes me smile. I’m very proud of it even if it doesn’t have many notes.

Notes: One of the only vids I made this year and it was a blast to do so. If it had done better I might have done more of them. But we’ll see what next year brings.

3. Parachute (8.336 words)

(Detroit: Become Human, Hank Anderson/Connor/RK900/Gavin Reed, A/B/O)

Summary: Staring at his hands, he realized he couldn’t take any of this for much longer. The words kept replaying in his head, like a broken record or a terrible unending mantra. He shook his head, groaning miserably as another wave of nausea hit him. He had to get himself through this. He knew that hooking up in the middle of a revolutionary celebration- or humanities last night of freedom- as he called it, wasn’t the best idea. But he couldn’t have known it would fuck his life up beyond repair. Not unless he got it fixed. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Luckily there's three assholes who are more than willing to help him out. Or Gavin Reed's introduction to polyamory and basic human decency.

Notes: Honestly, one of the better written fics I’ve put out this year. I never really finished it as I moved from the dbh fandom into 911 and then into teen wolf as my hyperfixations changed. But I still really love what I have written and consider it one of my better written works despite its unfinished state.

4. The way I tend to be (5.542 words)

(Teen Wolf, The DILF club, Chris/Peter/Noah, Cabin fic, Trans Chris Argent)

Summary: Peter, Chris, and Noah get stuck in a Cabin while searching for a rogue wolf. Oh, however will they keep themselves entertained and warm? Shenanigans ensue. - Fate could be a very cruel mistress when she wanted to be. And often she came together with a little vicious thing called irony.

The last year had been crazy. He discovered werewolves, banshees, wendigos, and werecoyotes were real, and so was whatever Kira was supposed to be. Chris Argent, Allison’s father and Isaac’s foster father, turned out to be a hunter, and the little bane of his existence during his career as a deputy, a certain Peter Hale, turned out to be a werewolf. As was Peter’s nephew Derek and his niece Cora. He still couldn’t completely wrap his head around that one.

Notes: Self indulgent porn with a plot and accidentally aquired a universe to write in. Was supposed to be a cabin fever fic and somehow I already have 3 new fics lined up for this universe. I just have to write them. Very smutty, a bit angsty, and features both a trans male character and bisexual dilfs who fuck each other. What’s not to like?

5. Honey, honey (1.600 words)

(9-1-1, Eddie Diaz/Evan Buckley, A/B/O, Mpreg, I didn’t know we were dating)

Summary: Eddie's been calling him this word for a while now and he can't figure out what it means. So naturally, he asks the internet for help. Specifically, Reddit. What else was he supposed to do?

Notes: Just a really sweet short story based on a reddit post that was going around at the time that I wrote this. Pretty well received, one negative comment, but overal people seemed to like it. And considering I didn’t create that much this year (6 fics and a video), I figured it was a good addition to the list.

And those are my five favorite creations this year. Though honestly, I think despite the type of year that it has been, I think this features some of my best work to date.

I am tagging @msmischief101 @mostly-vo1d @latelierderiot @thoughtfulbreadpolice @mother-shipper @crystallized-iron and anyone else that wants to do it. Also feel free to ignore if you don’t want to do it.

#teen wolf fanfiction #dbh fanfic #911 fanfic #creator tag game #ben says stuff #ben writes fanfiction #creativity he wrote

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captainunderkrupp · 4 years

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ppl were talking abt branch being good with kids on this one discord i’m in and i remembered this unfinished fic that i had!!

(for some reason, they are out on a camping trip or smth. i wrote this before twt came out and just kind of went w what info i had from like the first two trailers lol)

Branch groaned. And kept groaning. It was neverending, like he was just lungs, sighing forever.

"What?" Poppy asked, finally getting tired of waiting for him to finish.

He cut himself off. "The ground's too wet. I can't start a fire."

"Oh, that's not too bad!" Poppy grinned. "We don't need the light, we'll be sleeping!"

Branch glared at her. "We need the heat! We'll freeze to death!"

"Oh..." Poppy felt suddenly lucky that she was totally pink; it was hard to see blush when you were monochrome.

"That's ok!" Satin and Chenille chorused.

"Yeah!" Biggie agreed.

Branch squinted, trying to figure out what they could be talking about. "Oh no," he muttered, not quite sure yet, but he was sure he wouldn't like it.

"We can cu~udle!" Guy Diamond sang, holding Tiny close. Tiny, of course, didn't give him a proper hug back, but enjoyed the contact.

Branch groaned, and went back to try and light the wet wood. When he had fallen into the creek earlier, even his backup wood, in case it did rain like this, had gotten wet.

He was stuck.

"Fine!" he shouted, throwing his flint down at the ground. He hesitated, and then picked it back up. "We'll cuddle. Can't be worse than..." he shuddered. "Hug time."

Everyone cheered, and started moving in.

"Not yet!" he shrieked, and everyone paused. "Just... give me a minute. Jeez."

He started pulling out... weapons. Or, not just weapons, but a lot of stuff. No one looking was really sure where they were coming from, but there were blades from his pockets, roots from his vest, strange contraptions from his hair. It took a moment, but he finally seemed to have removed a lot from his person.

"No wonder hug time is uncomfortable for him," Cooper muttered. Unfortunately, he had no volume control, so Branch heard him anyway.

Branch rolled his eyes, and then rolled out a tarp. "Here. So we're not just sleeping on wet ground."

Everyone complimented him on his forethought, getting comfortable on the tarp. Satin and Chenille were wrapped around Smidge, Cooper settled down on the outside of the pile, and Biggie was underneath Poppy and Guy Diamond, who made sure Tiny wasn't squished by the cuddling but was also cozy.

Branch glanced around, looking for a place he could tuck himself in at the edge. "So, uh... where should I...?"

Poppy looked up, and grinned. She looked conspiratorially at Smidge and Biggie.

"Oh no. That look, I know that, look, what are you-- AAH!" he screamed as Smidge launched her hair at him, lifting him easily and dumping him between Poppy and Guy. Biggie immediately threw an arm over all three of them, and Poppy intertwined her hair with Branch's.

Branch blushed. He tried to struggle, tried to get out, but there were too many people, and this was... really... cozy... actually...

He was asleep before Poppy could tease him about being comfortable.

"Whoa, he went out like a light!" Biggie whispered.

"Aw, he's snoring!" Satin cooed, and Chenille groaned at the idea of sleeping with someone who snores. Luckily it was soft.

"Wow, this is the fastest I've ever seen him go to sleep," Poppy noted.

"You've seen him sleep before?" Cooper asked, lifting his head up and laying it over Guy so he could see better. Guy carefully made sure Tiny wasn't pinned.

"Well, yeah, we've had sleepovers. Sometimes he had to stay at mine and Dad's place before he was old enough to build that bunker of his. And he, uh..." she blushed, grinning. "Invited me over a few nights ago."

A chorus of "aww!"s erupted.

Branch jolted, adjusted, and went right back to sleep. He never even opened his eyes.

Everyone let out a breath they didn't realize they'd been holding.

"Ok," Poppy whispered, "Let's just settle down, and we'll all have a nice night."

Everyone fell asleep pretty soon after that. Except for one troll, who smiled down at Branch's resting face, before settling down herself.

Branch jolted awake, barely holding back a scream. He gasped, attempting to stave off a panic attack... and not doing so well.

In the low light, he barely registered it was early morning. Mostly, he noticed that he was tangled up with almost everyone else. Quickly, trying to breathe without hyperventilating, he disentangled himself as best he could from the cuddle pile.

Eventually, Branch had managed to extract himself, without even disturbing anyone. He was pretty proud of that.

But for right now, he needed to breathe.

He took a quick gasp in, 1234, held it, 1234, let it out, 12345678, in, 1234, hold, 1234, out, 123 4 5 6 7 8, in, 1 2 3 4, hold, 1 2 3 4, out, 1 2 3 4 5... 6... 7... 8...

Eventually his breathing finally slowed, and he could close his eyes without seeing the vivid colors of his nightmare behind the lids. He fell onto a nearby rock with a shuddering breath. Should I go back to bed? No, I slept through the night, and it's early in the morning already... He sighed again.

"Branch?"

He nearly screamed again, jumping and flailing. He fell into a practiced pose, ears twitching for a threat.

His eyes fell on Tiny Diamond, blinking innocently from barely more than a few arm lengths away.

Branch paled. "Tiny!" He struggled to relax, not wanting to scare Guy's baby.

Tiny rubbed his eye under his glasses. "You woke me up," he complained.

Branch had to wince. He had tried to be careful... but he supposed kids were easier to disturb. "Sorry, Tiny. I didn't mean to." He shuffled, not sure what to do with himself.

Small, curious eyes stared at him, and Tiny's head tilted. "What woke you up?"

"Just a nightmare."

"What's a nightmare?"

Branch blinked, surprised. Oh, right. As much as younger trolls could learn just from listening from their eggs, there were definitely gaps in their education, depending on what they were exposed to.

He supposed no one in the Snack Pack enjoyed talking about nightmares, so why would Tiny know?

"It's... a very bad dream."

"Oh, yeah, ok," Tiny nodded, seemingly understanding. Branch paused, waiting for Tiny to ask more.

But the trolling didn't seem to have anymore questions about that. "Do you know when my Daddy's going to wake up?"

Branch glanced back over at the pile with Tiny. Guy seemed to be sleep singing, and Branch wondered if someone was going to join in-- yep. Poppy was starting to hum.

"Uh... not sure, actually." He looked up at the sky. The moon waved back, and he could see the sun slowly, slowly coming up. It was a slow dawn, then. "The sun won't be up for a while, and that's when they usually wake up."

Tiny sighed, in that overly honest yet unweary way only little kids can. "Okaaay," he drew out the word, and then started beatboxing under his breath. Branch could hear him muttering ideas, switching around rhymes and verses.

It was catchy, he had to admit. He started humming along, a bit.

Tiny looked delighted. He scrambled to sit on the rock Branch was occupying, and Branch tried to scoot to give the kid the flatter side of it.

They sat there a while, trading rhythms and verses quietly. He could hear some more sleep singing from a distance, just slightly out of sync with their own music.

Eventually, the sun had traded out with the moon in the sky. It was definitely daytime, even if it was a little early.

Branch had an idea. A terrible idea. He grinned. The perfect revenge.

"Hey, Tiny," he whispered, leaning in toward the trolling. The kid perked up, staring wide-eyed at Branch, attentive. "You want to help me wake up the Snack Pack?"

Tiny grinned; of course he did, the Snack Pack included his Daddy! He jumped up, all excited. "Yeah! What'cha wanna do? Cuz I know you've got an idea!"

Branch chuckled at Tiny's enthusiasm. "Yeah. Here..." he whispered into Tiny's ear, and Tiny grinned.

The whole Snack Pack was all very deeply asleep. A good cuddle pile will do that to your average troll. Especially on a cold night, surprisingly. Guy was just beginning to twitch, frowning in his sleep as he subconsciously searched for his son, who didn't seem to be...

He jolted up at the sudden noise of a beat being dropped, an expert beatboxing suddenly bursting into the clearing they'd decided to camp out in.

Directly after that, a loud crescendo of "OoooOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH..." went through the air and woke everyone else up.

"Tiny D, break it down!"

Suddenly, Tiny burst into all their lines of sight, rapping his heart out. He sung about the sunrise and missing his dad and how he was glad they were awake, and beatboxing accompanied him all the while.

By the end, everyone had calmed, and most were even clapping. Guy settled for jumping up and picking up his son in delight.

"That was amazing!" he squealed, letting the last word be sung, autotuned. Tiny laughed and leaned back into his dad's face, nearly headbutting him.

"Wait, who gave him that awesome beat?" Cooper wondered sleepily, still rubbing muck out of his eyes.

Tiny pointed, and slowly, everyone turned toward a rock in the clearing that no one had really noticed before. Branch smirked and waved at all of them.

Jaws dropped. "Whoa!" Poppy shrieked, and everyone clamored. "When did you learn to beatbox?!"

Branch flinched, trying not to get trampled this early in the morning, thank you. "Hey, back off," he snapped.

He quickly devolved, though. His lips twitched, and then it was all over. He was laughing, hard and long. Tiny had started laughing long before, and their voices echoed through the clearing.

"Ha ha ha... you... you... your faces!! Ha ha..." he finally petered out, just letting out small giggles. Tiny was still going.

Everyone was staring at Branch. Poppy somehow looked more pink than usual.

(A/N: I have an hc that Tiny is a little bit touch averse. Not much, he loves contact, but he doesn't like hugs or anything else constrictive. And he mostly hangs out with his dad rather than other people. possibly bc glitter trolls have more sensitive skin? i would be too if my skin/entire body could flake off that easily.)

#fluiditywrites #dreamworks trolls #trolls world tour #tiny diamond #branch #queen poppy #snack pack #tag later #hc tag

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naerwenia · 3 years

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Face of the Empire

So, here's a fic I wrote one night after getting an idea, where Eshka is recruited by Thrawn to work for COMPNOR, to be a face for alien acceptance in the Empire. This was supposed to be a longer story, but I realized I don't actually have a plan for the plot, so this is all for now. Maybe I complete this one day. For now, it's just an unfinished idea without a point, about Grand Admiral Thrawn and my OC/Star Wars rpg character Eshka Kith'lya (who's actually full Bothan rather than just half like in this fic). I tried to smooth out some weird sentences, but I am just a human. When she thought about her future, she didn’t see herself as someone who would ever work for the Empire. She was an anarchist, educated, and more importantly, alien, a half-Bothan to be exact. Not someone who would ever look to work for the Empire, yet here she was, smiling for a picture as the Commission for the Preservation of the New Order crafted the next poster to be spread around, with Eshka as the face of lies.

University of Bar’leth was not the Hutt's first choice for Eshka. He wanted her to continue her studies in Coruscant but new policies prevented that. Credits would have solved that but what good would forcing an alien into an all-human university do? All the politics working in that situation would undermine the core education she was there to get. Her major was medicine, not political science. All social skills and charm were to be learnt on the side while maneuvering in the social circles of university life. Even Eshka knew she wasn’t there to just learn, she had to gather life-long connections, knowledge, and make sure her name would be known. Even if she didn’t have to do all that, her loyalty to the Hutt meant she had to obey his every word. If she didn’t, there was no reason for him to keep her around, she just cost him credits and sometimes gave him a headache, but soon she would take her place in the high society and get to pay back the Hutt’s kindness.

It really was kindness that made him take her under his wing, if any Hutt ever happened to have such quality. He had promised her parents that the girl would get an education and everything she needed, but she’d have to pay back in the end. No amount of credits would pay back the life Eshka was given, but information and favours might, and she was sure if need be, she would be shipped to a foreign lord to secure an alliance. Eshka had her own life until she didn’t, and she was aware of it. This deal, however unbalanced, didn’t come without positives though. Her freedom had been exchanged for fancy dances, extravagant gowns, education, and a name she could drop to get herself out of trouble: Marlo, Leader of the Hutt Council. There was, however, an acknowledgement that if she used that name frivolously, she tied her own name to him even more, and being known as one of the Hutt’s women was not what she wanted. Eshka was a doctor, a half-Bothan, taken care of monetarily by Marlo. That was the lie Eshka told herself, and got most to believe.

That was the first sentence Eshka learnt to tell without it sounding like a lie. She learnt to twist words, to make up the truth she wanted. The way she told everyone what she wanted them to hear, what she wanted them to know, just choosing not to tell the whole truth, just the words that the audience needed to hear. This was the lesson Eshka had learnt from Hutts. If nothing else, she knew how to speak and find her way up the social ladder. Each and every word had such a weight to it, and Eshka hated it. No matter how good she was with the words, she didn’t know how to express her feelings, to give words true meaning. It probably had something to do with the fact she never had a chance to do so. She had friends, caretakers, people to look up to, but also a distant Hutt as the closest thing to a twisted father-figure, so she learnt to keep her distance, to give people what they needed to keep them indebted to her, to have their trust, yet not show what she truly wanted, because she didn’t know that herself.

Not a sound escaped from the lips of the debutantes, the ballroom just stood in silence after Eshka’s impromptu speech. Her voice shook, as the weight of the words shattered any mask she might have been wearing that night. This was not the place she was supposed to be in. This was not her place. She had just told a hall full of young Imperial officers and privileged university students that the only way to peace is through understanding and encouraging societies to govern themselves democratically through local governments, that the Empire may overlook the small, the helpless, less fortunate who were also looked over by the majority, the Emperor is not omnipotent and governing from this ballroom full of gold and crystals is madness, we don’t even know what happens underground at Coruscant, even one floor below, not to mention at the Outer Rim. Too much, she had said too much and at the wrong place. Soon the guards would take her away, she may have been under the protection of a Hutt but spreading rebellious propaganda was a crime. She was an alien, they would take her away, she would lose everything, and these words were her last action, not to be remembered by anyone. An act of resistance in the ivory tower, tears drowned in rain, not even a ripple to be seen in the great ocean of consequences.

“And the only way to prevent this ignorance and lack of oversight is through you, Officers. You are the hands and ears of the Empire, through you, there is peace in the Galaxy”, said a male voice next to Eshka, turning her resistance into Imperial propaganda with just a few words. Eshka knew that voice. It was made of the same weight as hers usually was, one to omit words to tell the truth they wanted in a way that furthered their ideals. Calculated, thought through, precise. They knew what they wanted and Eshka’s sudden outburst only furthered their goals in attending this god-forsaken ball. She was left deciding if she wanted to embarrass herself even more or go with this new narrative. But there was no choice to make as applause arose from the audience, cheering, as the poignant and uncomfortable truth was turned to a morale boost of the century, only assuring the Imperial cadets of their own importance. Only when her hand was taken by the man next to her did she realize that she had just stared blankly at the crowd, and quickly turned her head to see who had taken her hand, the one to lead her out of the trouble she had created for herself. A man in a white suit, red eyes smiling at her. No, she thought, wanting to cry out and run. No, she yelled in her mind as he guided her down the stairs to the dancefloor. No, she screamed yet no words could escape her dry lips. There was no air to fill her lungs so she could express the abject horror she was feeling in the arms of Grand Admiral Thrawn. His grip was tight around her waist, his skin warm against her back, his hand in her hand even hotter, his eyes burning. This is my end, she thought, making peace with herself that she would die in the hands of her enemy, being whisked away after a dance for the greatness of the Empire. Ironic.

As the music stopped, he bowed but did not let go of her hand. “My lady, you look awfully pale. May I offer you some refreshments, and maybe let you sit down?” he said, leading her to the back. He could smell my fear, Eshka said to herself in a haze. He led her to a small room with a chaise lounge, made her sit there and ordered a maid to bring drinks for “my lady”. Eshka wanted to throw up, but only closed her eyes to help herself to gather her own thoughts somewhere else. At least the Grand Admiral gave her the time to catch her breath, then water. Just then she realized, embarrassment crept to her; she, a common student, was keeping Grand Admiral waiting. As soon as the moment really hit her, Eshka had a choice to be made: mask or truth. This time, she decided to let the man talk before she wanted to make her decision, but she had a feeling the Chiss might be already scheming.

“I am terribly sorry for my outburst, Grand Admiral, I may have, no, I stepped over my line, and embarrassed everyone. You saved me as my nerves got to me, and I couldn’t get a word out. You even saved my pride, danced with me, like I hadn’t just fallen into the back of my…” Eshka rambled, but Thrawn silenced her with one look and a hand movement. Nothing got past him. He knew.

“After your insolent speech and blatant propaganda in front of the finest of the Empire…”

“You don’t believe that”.

A smirk on both of their faces.

“But you could make it true”.

That caught Eshka off-guard. What on the Galaxy did he talk about?

“You clearly have a way with words, and know how to make your speech heartfelt, even if misguided for now. So I propose an offer in exchange for me sweeping any accusation that may arise from tonight, you join the Commission for the Preservation of the New Order. You have a human face, which humans find the most appealing, but have features of an alien. The posters…” the Grand Admiral says, looking for the word.

“Propaganda” Eshka suggested, still not exactly knowing what he was going for.

“Propaganda, or information war, needs to appeal to aliens too. You are both. Human and alien, delightfully both.”

Eshka didn’t quite understand, and the word “delightfully” was used so casually she wanted to question him even more. Delightful? She took a deep breath before answering, looking at the floor.

“I’m sorry to inform you that I am not in a position to accept your offer. I am in debt to Marlo the Hutt, who has decided in his great wisdom that I must study medicine and serve him..”

Thrawn seems slightly confused, seeming not to quite catch the meaning of your words though he understood the meaning of each word, so Eshka tried to extrapolate.

“He has given me a life, I am in debt with my life”, she added, and he nodded, understanding the depth of the issue.

“In that case, I still have an upper hand. Either he lets you go to prison, have you disgraced, or lets you join. Then you have the same choice.”

“I… Have a choice?” Eshka asked, not quite believing it, but was put back down immediately.

“No”, Thrawn snapped, his eyes watching her breathing stop and demeanor withdraw back to one of a cornered animal. Interesting. Delightful.

“Then my life is in your hands, Grand Admiral Mitth'raw'nuruodo”, she said in Sy Bisti, with the final chance to plead and beg, and to get one last word in the conversation. The situation was bad, but it could be worse. He might not care at all about her and just liked to play some holochess with her mind, maybe thinking there’s others that shared her beliefs and she was a way to get to them, or he just wanted to save the face of the ball. Probably that, and some sadistic pleasure he got from making her submit. Submit.

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“Do you wish to know your value?” Thrawn asked as he escorted Eshka to the Lambda shuttle, ready to leave Bar’leth and move back to Coruscant, this time in service of the Empire rather than a Hutt.

“If it is in credits, no”, she answered, a bit annoyed, thinking it wasn’t worth knowing she was worthless, especially to a Hutt or to her new employer. However, Thrawn just smiled to himself.

“You underestimate yourself, miss”, he said, “You are worth much more than a chip with numbers, in fact, you have proved useful already, so I must thank you on behalf of the Empire”.

She shuddered. Empire. Useful to the Empire.

“You understand loyalty, so you will learn soon enough.”

“Is this a way for you to play mind games or rid out resistance before it has been born? Because either way, I am only here to enlist my help to the Commission and pay my debt to you the best way I can. No matter what you say, I do not think I will change my mind about the Empire”, Eshka retorted back, letting the Stormtroopers carry her luggage to the back of the shuttle, and sat on an isolated seat, yet when Admiral took the seat next to her, it felt cramped. And only four troopers were with them. The flight wasn’t long, at least it wasn't supposed to be.

“So, I believe you have questions. May I inquire what you are thinking?” Thrawn asked, with a voice that sounded almost soft for him. Eshka took note of that, replaying the sound of his voice to remember it, as she hadn’t heard him talk enough to make an educated guess about his thoughts that made him say those words.

“I was hoping you would have clear instructions for me, and what is my relationship with you, if any, “ Eshka said looking down, then raising her gaze to Thrawn, who, both surprisingly and unsurprisingly, looked relaxed, yet his gaze met Eshka with piercing intensity. Shuddering, fear striked right into Eshka. Death was no longer an option. This was the gaze of a man who knew the outcome of this battle, and used this moment only to understand the advantage they had better. Lowering her gaze, she submitted, and this gesture didn’t go unnoticed by the expert tactician.

“You submit to your faith, I see.”

“I have no battle here, so I can not be defeated”, she said, slightly smiling.

“You choose your battles well.”

“Thank you, Admiral”.

A sigh from the Chiss was unexpected, yet a weirdly humanizing touch. “You may address me as ‘sir’ from now on. Unless you are in a formal setting, then Grand Admiral Thrawn. If you wish to call me by my full name, you may, but I assume you know the right situations for that.” Sentimental reasons, he keeps me close, too close, Eshka thought.

“You have been given a position in the Commission as an alien relations specialist, you will serve as the face and spokesperson in that area. Your position will include information influencing campaigns, which will have you attending balls and giving speeches. You will be an exemplary Imperial civilian to others like us, someone to look up to.

“You are just an insolent child, privileged and rich, a teenager who is trying to rebel and does not understand what troubles their parents went through to secure your position in a society that has nothing but contempt for you. So what I am giving you is an opportunity to change the system from the inside, just like your parents did, but with more support. The success of a system is not on the shoulders of the leader as much as it is on the ones who serve. The lead gives the command, but the success depends on the ones who carry out the order.” Silence filled the room between the two of them like a thick fog, clouding the true intentions of Thrawn.

“I didn’t think you would care that much about politics”

“I do not, but some changes are inevitable for the system to work better in the future. I do not care for politics, pleasing others is not in my nature, but this is something that has to be done in order for the Empire to win this war”.

“The Empire values the needs of the many over the needs of the few, how does propaganda help my kind?”

“You misunderstand. The majority is the only one who may give betterment to the minority, but if the minority rebels against the majority, there will be no acceptance, and no moving forward. At the moment, species other than humans see their options as joining the Empire, which does not care for them, or active resistance with the Rebellion. But there is a third option. Compliance. You will be the face of compliance and order. Comply to the orders and you shall be rewarded.

“With basic rights?”

“At the moment, yes. But isn’t it better to comply with one unfair order so that you may live to the next day and then receive what you deserve?

“Or your oppressor takes your compliance as a sign that the order is not unreasonable, and continues with that.

“Could be, but do you not want to see what you could do to change that sentiment?”

“I could never side with the Empire”

“But would you join me, Chiss?”

“You work for the Empire, you line your ideals with the Empire.”

“My goals line with the Empire, and my loyalty is towards the Empire. But I am a Chiss, I serve my people too. Even after they exiled me, I will see that they are safe in the Galaxy.”

“I admire your loyalty, sir” Eshka responded, with soft fondness for the Admiral at that moment, as she had to face the fact that she was not really part of any group. Not human, not Bothan, not a Hutt, definitely not part of the cartels or any organization. Any place she ever lived in was not her home planet, she never really had a home. There was no sentimentality, there was only logic governing her life, she understood that, but now, as an alien soldier who

“So, who are you?”

“I’m sorry, what?” The question caught Eshka off-guard.

“You want so many things for those around you, yet don’t talk about anything related to who you are. So tell me, who is the Eshka sitting next to me?”

Who am I? “I’m… Eshka, I’m … “ and silence filled with anticipation on behalf of Eshka, who was trying to find anything to answer with. Yes, she studied to be a doctor, but that was not on the table anymore. Saying half-human, half-Bothan sounded weird. “A girl?” she continued, looking at Thrawn, expecting him to tell her if this was the right answer.

“No no, you have to know that for yourself. Now, you may continue, or do you wish to keep me waiting until you realize yourself?” he said snidely. Embarrassment coursed through Eshka’s veins, infecting her cheeks and tongue, making her unable to respond in any other way than just saying “I’m sorry, sir”.

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Grand Admiral Mitth'raw'nuruodo watched the sad and small woman lie in her recliner, sleeping soundly in the vastness of space. A canvas for a different kind of art found lost in the galaxy. Emotional to the point of being a flaw, yet unaware of her self. Chaotic, yet logical and smart. Lonely, but altruistic. She needed guidance, and he needed someone to be a force for acceptance. No matter how well Thrawn did in the military and kept to himself, the world he was fighting for was not always kind to him. Order and peace were what he was fighting for, but if Eshka could soften the Imperium’s people’s attitudes towards both of them, his position might not be questioned so often and he would be able to focus on fighting the rebellion. Humans liked cute things like Porgs and doves, and Eshka seemed to fit the idea of cute, but had some visible Bothan features like nose, eyes, and ears. Otherwise her body reminded him of paintings from Togruta: colourful, sweet, vibrant.

Eshka tossed and turned, clearly distressed in her dreams now. Thrawn sat up and got on his feet, taking one step towards the sleeping lady, only to kneel next to her and putting his warm hand on her shoulder. Simple trick to calm humanoids, and it worked on Eshka. Her breathing calmed and her shoulders relaxed. A moment later Thrawn turned back to his chair. Maybe he should catch sleep too, even if his metabolism didn’t really need it. What he needed was a clear idea of what he wanted Eshka to be. The lack of self-awareness she had played into his hand, and the way she was trained by Hutts was good; always ready to please, understanding of her own lack of agency, loyalty to the contract, but it also made Thrawn angry, the way she was denied any closeness and made to grow up without a strong sense of self. No culture, no customs, nothing but humans of Coruscant and Bar’leth who ostracized her and made her build herself to fit in wherever she went. She was a blank slate, and Thrawn would build her to a perfect woman who would no longer submit to anyone but him. She was not a slave, but he wanted her to wear chains of diamonds. What a weird thought, Thrawn stopped. Maybe it was related to the conversation he had had with Marlo the Hutt. It had been the first time Thrawn had to interact with a Hutt, and he surely hoped it would be the last. Arrogant and cunning, almost catching Thrawn's intentions, yet not useful in the long run, as he got a crash course in the politics within the cartel and now knew to limit any contact with them unless absolutely necessary. It was funny how well the Hutt knew the value in Eshka, yet could keep the knowledge so out of her reach. Just telling Marlo Eshka was going to be executed for treason didn’t sway him, he even laughed straight at Thrawn’s face, telling him no one could touch her for such a small thing, and why would such a high-ranking officer come there just to inform him? No, it had to be more personal, and if Thrawn wanted the girl, he had to give more than credits, in fact, credits were useless in this matter. Frustrating, but fruitful conversation ensued. The puppet changed owners, and there were new plans on the works.

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Eshka put her hand on the glass, watching the view in front of her, city lights dancing in her eyes. When taking the job, she thought she was going to be living somewhere underground, with low-class officers if she was lucky, but here she was, in the same building with high-ranking officers. She could see the sky, star destroyer’s lights, the roofs of smaller buildings. It was beautiful, but the loneliness grew in her. There was a whole sky to share, yet here she was, alone above everyone.

Perfect, she was perfect. A gown made of stars, extravagant to many but tasteful for Coruscant. Lights reflecting from the velvety fabric made it look like the whole galaxy was moving as she moved and danced. Eshka, however, felt weird. It wasn’t the first time someone else chose a dress for her, but she didn’t think the Grand Admiral would be the one to do so. Yet his love for control was enough to explain this, but not why she was invited to a banquet for Imperial Officers and socialites of the city. When moving, Eshka had sold her formal dresses to get some money for savings, as she wasn’t sure how much she would be compensated for her work, and she thought there was no need for formal attire, or at least hoped she could hide from the public eye as she was working in her position, but she should have known better. Thrawn wanted her to change the perception humans had of aliens and be the face of the Empire, so why would it not include actual face-to-face meetings or larger events too. She only knew Thrawn and the director of COMPNOR there, maybe some officer she had brushed by at other social gatherings, but if most were military personnel, she had no idea what she could talk with them about. Small talk, flirt? Those should be enough for this time, just feel the atmosphere and plan for the next event. Lose a battle to win the war, and so on. Even if she didn’t like what she was doing in relation to her employer, she had to admit not everyone had the same opportunities to choose sides in the Galaxy, and if she could change some views in the higher ups, she had done something right.

A deep breath, name said aloud, and Eshka stepped in a tall room with chandeliers illuminating the glass cage high above the city. Curious looks were exchanged between guests as Eshka moved inside the room, looking around for a good guest she might be able to introduce herself to. She kept a soft smile on her face, bowed her head as she maneuvered around people already deep in conversations, not letting a single one of the guests to think for a moment she was intimidated. She didn’t know anything about the military, she would say to herself, she was there only to have fun and drink the Corellian wine people spoke so highly of.

An officer with six blue and red taps, probably an admiral or a marshal, was standing by himself with a whiskey in his hand by a window looking a bit uncomfortable in such an open space with people other than military troops. A good start, Eshka thought to herself and joined the gentleman. Starting the conversation with a quip about whiskey seemed to work in Eshka’s favour, just like a light-hearted joke about not taking alcohol well opened the older man to Eshka, and she was just happy it was working. Marshal Kof’ral was surprisingly sweet, considering he was one who had dedicated his life to the military, nowadays commanding his own ground fleet. With whiskey in one hand and Eshka’s hand in the other, he took her to the bar to tell her more about the whiskeys. Few younger officers joined them, clearly new to the setting, but the Marshal knew them and invited them to join the lesson on whiskeys around the galaxy. The officers, however, weren’t too enamored by Eshka, in fact, they seemed to enjoy the jokes they could make at her expense than the whiskey, but let their hands wander down her back. Marshall just laughed with them, so Eshka did too even when it hurt a bit. This wasn’t the place to confront them, this was just to introduce herself to the high society. Thankfully, the dinner was to start soon, so Eshka got the chance to excuse herself from the situation, telling the men she needed to add some face powder before the dinner.

Just a few more hours, I can make it, she told herself, looking at the mirror in the bathroom. Maybe there’s no need to have a conversation with the one next to me, whoever they may be. A racist who hates me, they wouldn’t talk to me, or someone nice, it’s going to be just fine.

When she finally stepped back to the hall, she was escorted to the dining room and seated. Next to Grand Admiral Thrawn. Both relieved and nervous, she didn’t know how to react. There was a lady next to him on his left side and Eshka thought it might be his date. Before Thrawn could even say a word to Eshka, a council member was seated next to her, taking her attention with a flirty greeting. Bail Carivus, a politician from a long family line of legislators and senators, and him talking to Eshka with such empty praises was infuriating to Thrawn, yet Eshka didn’t seem to mind, only blushing and giggling.

“And who is this serious man you are next to?” Carivus asked, flashing a condescending smile to Thrawn, and pure hate flashed in Thrawn’s eyes before Eshka could see it.

“Oh, he is Grand Admiral Thrawn, the captain of Chimaera”, Eshka said, glee in her voice, like she was proud to introduce the two of them, the opposites of each other. Tension between them just grew with the realization they were from very different worlds.

“It is very nice to meet you, Admiral”, Carivus said, clearly disregarding military ranks, yet offered his hand to Thrawn for a shake. Thrawn took it, if only to not embarrass Eshka.

“As it is to meet you”, Thrawn replied, coldly.

Before the tension grew too much or the silence between them stayed longer than appropriate, the first course was served.

Few times during the dinner Thrawn caught Carivus’ hand laying on Eshka’s thigh, his eyes wandering down her chest, hand “accidentally” brushing her neck, ass, ears. Sleazy, infuriating, with a lack of taste in art, Thrawn thought, trying to keep his cool, but as Eshka got more and more uncomfortable, Thrawn wasn’t sure he liked this part of his plan. As the dinner came to a close, Eshka excused herself, and as soon as she was out of the room, Carivus leaned over to Thrawn with a grin, ready to ask something, but another Admiral came to talk to Thrawn before he could hear the trashy words the sleazebag was trying to say. For a moment, Thrawn forgot that the politician existed. But when the Admirals shook hands, he took notice that Eshka hadn’t returned and Carivus was not there either.

Thrawn didn’t know where Eshka might be, but he had to find her soon, before that poor excuse for a human touched her. He would not tolerate that. A new rule for Eshka to follow was now in order, as soon as she was away from Carivus’ hands; no one was allowed to touch her, no one, there was no social climbing with her body, no matter how beneficial it might be. She may fight and be defeated, but her submission was reserved for Thrawn.

#thrawn #mitt'raw'nuruodo #star wars fanfiction #star wars oc #sw oc #thrawn x oc #unfinished #fanfic #star wars #Eshka Kith'lya #grand admiral thrawn

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