#and now they have people who would protect them and trust with their lives
Text
Listen to me ramble about traveler ships bc they’re silly!!
Albedo
Both Albedo and the Traveler have a scientific curiosity about the world and how it works. They’re also curious about humans. While Traveler finds enjoyment out of living among them, Albedo prefers studying them from a distance.
This also transcends into curiosity about each other, since they’re both different kinds of immortal ageless entities, they intrigue each other. (Albedo talks about wanting to “study” the Traveler.) They feel a sort of kinship for each other, as they’re both not really of Teyvat. Because of this, Albedo only trusts the Traveler to stop him if he should lose control one day and destroy Mondstat. He also talks about trusting the Traveler around his experiments, and having faith in their “exceptional talents.”
About us, Assistant: Would you oblige me by serving as my assistant? After observing so many experiments, you surely know a good deal about alchemy by now. Relax, we will work together. I don't think you will have any problems. I have faith in my ability to instruct you, and even more faith in your exceptional talents.
Ascension 2: Albedo is the step in which change begins. Clearing away the excess so we can take on all the knowledge that is available. Would you like to investigate this world with me?
Ascension 3: Rubedo in alchemy refers to the refining of feeling. I feel the refining of my own emotions is also thanks to you.
Is there anything else you're interested in?
Albedo: Hmm, anything else...?
Albedo: Probably you.
Albedo: At first, it was because you carry the aura of the stars.
Albedo: But now... it seems that there is more to it.
Albedo: Why is this? Give me some time and I can conduct experiments to find out.
Is there anything you'd like to do?
Albedo: Heh, where should I begin...?
Albedo: In your company, I never lack inspiration.
For drawing?
For experiments?
Albedo: It's good for both drawing and experiments.
Albedo: And not just for these, but for many other things.
Albedo: Speaking of which... I used to think interaction with others was a waste of time.
Albedo: But after meeting you, I'd rather spend my time on you than other matters.
Albedo: This is a unique anomaly. I think I likely know the reason why.
Albedo: So can you also... give me more of your time?
Xiao
Xiao has been cursed with bad karma, while the Traveler has purifying abilities. Xiao talks about how being around them makes him calmer somehow. Maybe because of these purifying abilities, more likely because the Traveler is so universally warm and friendly. Two immortal beings, Xiao has spent his long life tied to his nation while the Traveler has been almost everywhere.
While Xiao has a rough exterior, he is actually curious about humanity and has a great love for them, something Traveler understands and shares. He’s just weary of his karmic debt and history of violence bringing the Liyuan people bad luck, or preventing him from fitting in should be mingle among them. The Traveler likewise does not fit in, but is still beloved. And so, Xiao has expressed that he would be willing to attempt going to Liyue Harbor to learn about the people if the Traveler accompanied him. It’s likely Xiao admires Traveler for their pursuit of understanding Teyvat and its people— something Xiao is naturally bad at— and they make him feel comfortable to pursue it as well.
Xiao has sworn to come whenever the Traveler calls his name. He seems notably protective of Traveler, more so than other characters, maybe feeling a kinship for both being so inhuman. Either way, voice lines imply he is guarded because he assumes his karma will poison Traveler, and he doesn’t want to hurt them. Despite this guarded roughness, Traveler rightly characterized him as a deeply caring individual, seeing Xiao to the core of who he is, and treats him as such.
Also, Traveler has shown to be dedicated to becoming someone Xiao can trust and relax around. In some of Xiao’s voice lines, it’s implied that Traveler has been trying to come up with ways to help soothe Xiao’s pain.
They have a tradition of releasing Xiao Lanterns during Lanturn Rite. Xiao has given the Traveler crystalflies for their hair for his own birthday, and has talked about how since knowing the Traveler, Xiao has been blessed with sweet peaceful dreams of the two of them going on strolls, wondering if he deserves something so nice.
In a poetry event, the Traveler has created poetry to show their admiration towards Xiao for his endless watch over Liyue. Maybe Traveler admires it because they’ve never had such devotion over something for so long, and Xiao admires Traveler for the opposite reason, and for being brave.
About Shenhe: It seems Shenhe places a great deal of trust in you. Well, how could she not. There are few people in the world as kind and good-natured as you.
More about Xiao V: It's too late. The connection between us is too strong. Even if you wanted to, it's too late to sever it. Hm? You've never thought to sever it? *sigh* This eternal dance of demon subjugation... My fight goes on. But I would like to know more about you.
Ascension: Countless souls have fallen prey to these hands. I too have been swallowed by the darkness — and yet you dare to drive me on. You may think of me as... your companion. You seek to find me salvation? ...You... really are a difficult being to comprehend.
Xiao: ...I don't know if it's related to you, but recently, the pain from my karmic debt has been less excruciating.
Xiao: It's much easier to bear than before.
Xiao: If you have free time, we can go to Liyue Harbor together...
Xiao: If not... never mind.
Of course we can.
Xiao: Uh... alright.
Finally decided to integrate into city life?
Xiao: Ahem...
Xiao: I have no intention of getting close to the lives of mortals.
Xiao: But I know that you often enter and leave the city, walking amidst the crowd.
Xiao: The stories of these times, or their joys... If I don't experience such things myself, it'll be hard to understand your thoughts.
So... you're doing this for me?
Xiao: Yes, to understand you.
Xiao: I had a feeling that it would be difficult, but after having such thoughts, I can't simply sit back and do nothing.
Xiao: I will control myself while I am in the city.
Xiao: I'll try to speak... as little as possible.
I'll be with you.
You can say whatever you want. I'll bail you out.
Xiao: Hmm...
Xiao: Let me know when you're ready to go.
Ayaka
Ayaka’s character story 5: “Ayaka is still waiting for a friend to emerge who can walk alongside her on equal footing and stand by her side. That person cannot see her as a member of the Yashiro Commission, or as the Shirasagi Himegimi, nor will their conduct towards her be bound by decorum or status. And if possible, they might also be well-versed in a great many fields of study, and have witnessed all manner of interesting things... and perhaps they might even be able to tell her a story in a pinch. Only such a person might become Ayaka's bosom friend.”
The Traveler is Ayaka’s ideal companion, the exact kind of person she has been waiting for, possibly the only person who truly has the ability to understand her outside of Inazuman society’s perception of her. She finds Traveler interesting and exciting, a stark difference from her everyday life.
When they first met, the Traveler was disillusioned in their travels after briefly reuniting with their sibling, who dismissed them. Ayaka makes the effort to show them and remind them why they began their travels in the first place; the world and humanity is complex and interesting and beautiful, and it’s a worthwhile endeavor to understand and protect them. Ayaka regularly reminds the Traveler of this by being complex and interesting and beautiful herself. Traveler then goes to great lengths to protect Ayaka’s people, because they understand why they’re important to her.
Ayaka is trapped in Inazuma, while the Traveler has been all over the world. Things that Ayaka has seen a million times are new and wonderful to the Traveler, showing these things in a new light to Ayaka. It makes Ayaka feel like a “regular girl,” something she wishes she could be more often. The Traveler is shown to feel most comfortable with Ayaka and her family while in Inazuma. They both understand what it’s like to feel distant from a sibling.
Good Morning: Oh, good morning, Traveler. ...Whenever I see you in the morning, somehow, it makes me feel like... today is going to be a good day.
Aspiration: Today, as in the past, I aspire to be somebody whom everyone can trust. But what motivates me is no longer the responsibilities I shoulder, or the expectations of other people. Rather, it is the fact that you are this kind of person, too.
More about Kamisato Ayaka V: […] unless I am mistaken, I trust that you will not take issue with this slight departure from convention on my part… That is to say... I'm a little tired, may I rest my head on your shoulder? Just for a moment.
Desires: […] But even so, shouldn't I still follow my dreams? Shouldn't I... share my true feelings with you?
Ascension: Our time together has been so pleasant that I am fearful of losing what I have gained. I'm sorry, I must compose myself.
Kamisato Ayaka: At least, that's a romantic way of approaching this topic [poetry].
I feel the same way.
Kamisato Ayaka: More importantly... I hope that, between the two of us, we need not be concerned with our identities...
Kamisato Ayaka: I'll just think of you as... my closest confidant.
Kamisato Ayaka: Being able to enjoy tea with my closest confidant — it feels like I'm in a dream...
(Closest confidant...)
Kamisato Ayaka: ...
Kamisato Ayaka: Can I... Hold your hand?
Wanderer
The Traveler and the Wanderer are both parallels and ideological foils. They have both been betrayed and abandoned by family and loved ones, doomed to travel and wander the world in order to understand it better because of that.
But the Wanderer has learned humanity’s cruelty during these travels, mostly in the Fatui. He believes humans to be cruel and self-serving, and so he acts that way too. And as an immortal, doesn’t understand the importance of a limited life, clutching onto his grief and anger in a means to cope with what he cannot control.
Meanwhile, the Traveler has learned the beauty of humanity during their travels. They believe in the inherent goodness in everyone, and so they act that way. Curious and sensitive, like Wanderer before his three betrayals, even though Traveler has arguably been through just as much hardship as Wanderer (which may be a reason Wanderer held contempt for Traveler in the past). This belief is what led them to not kill the Wanderer when they defeated him in battle.
Their ideologies are in direct conflict. The Traveler’s ideology has led them to getting hurt often, while the Wanderer’s ideology has led him to being isolated. They have a lot to learn from one another.
AND, with the Wanderer having erased himself from everyone’s memory except the Traveler, the Traveler now is the only person to know the real Wanderer. They know all the evil Wanderer has done, (led to the death of Teppi which Traveler was famously angry about, tried to kill Nahida, etc) and is still his friend. Wanderer is perplexed by this, often expressing it in voicelines. But this means Traveler knows him the most, they own part of his identity as well, as Wander has allowed them to give him a new name. A new name that he has not let anyone use except the Traveler, preferring to go by “Hat Guy” in the Akademia.
While still being weary of him, the Traveler can’t help but seek Wanderer’s presence because they enjoy learning about his vastly differing perspectives on life. The Wanderer respects them because of their vast strength and knowledge.
About us, Rivals: So, you're still stewing over our run-ins from before? Huh. Well, what are you going to do about it? Take your time. I'm in no hurry.
(“Oooo you wanna kiss me so bad ooooo I’m in your head”)
About us, Collaborators: I'll never be one of the good guys. I'm just here to pay my dues after what you've done for me. But what about you? Shouldn't you come up with some excuse for our meetings? If one of your friends mistakes you for collaborating with the enemy, you're on your own.
(He makes the same excuses to be around Nahida, though his lore explains he does truly admire her. Just saying.)
About Damselette: Let me ask: what should you do if you were to encounter a "damsel" who is oblivious and innocent at any given time, and unconcerned and unfeeling in any given situation? If it were me, I could at least challenge her to a fight. But if it were you... with your conscience, I would stay away from her.
(He’s calling Traveler kind-hearted, calling out their optimistic ideology, and warding them away from danger with his more grounded/pessimistic ideology.)
Birthday: Give me your hand. Heh, there's no need to be nervous. I'm just taking you to a vantage point. How is it? The scenery here should be quite breathtaking. There's no need to thank me — I see little point in it.
(Wanderer): Thank you for trying to look out for me. Go get some rest.
Jeht
Through the Golden Slumber world quest, it’s made very clear that the NPC Jeht is significantly [romantically] closer to the female Traveler Lumine. In the quest, they travel together for a time and become close. In a moment of crisis involving the Fatui, Jeht is ordered to kill Lumine, but refuses out of affection for her. She takes the punishment instead, and is offered to a Fatui scientist for experiments by her tribe. Jeht was told it was Lumine that betrayed her, and Lumine was told Jeht had betrayed the tribe, but neither of them chose to believe something bad about the other.
At the end of it all, Jeht chooses to fight by Lumine’s side over her other friends. Inspired by Lumine, Jeht decides to go on her own journey. Their goodbye is tearful.
Lyney
Lyney has only known the Traveler for a short time, but they already have a checkered history. The Traveler trusts Lyney and his sister immediately after meeting them, hangs out with him for a few days, and defends him in murder trial. Only for it to be revealed Lyney was part of the Fatui, who the Traveler has an even worse history with, having killed their friends and put Traveler and their companions in mortal peril many times.
Lyney offers an apology and some of the truth, but the Traveler is still cold with him and brushes him off, believing themselves to be betrayed (and likely influenced by mixed feelings of seeing such close twins). Despite openly admitting to having difficulty with opening up, Lyney makes the effort to be open and truthful with the Traveler during his story quest, rebuilding trust between them. Lyney puts in extra effort to be honest, because he truly wants the Traveler to like him. He gives the Traveler a rainbow rose by the end of it, which even his sister marks as odd, because it represents passion and romantic love in Fontaine. His sister asks the Traveler to “protect that flower for her,” likely alluding to Lyney.
The Traveler trusts him after this enough to include him in the main quest again. Lyney remarks multiple times about how he feels close with the Traveler, how he enjoys talking with them, how the Traveler’s eyes shine like topaz and Lyney could never lie to such beauty.
In Arlecchino's story quest, he’s implied to have talked in detail about the Traveler to his other siblings, and is eager for the Traveler to like them. He is hesitant to involve the Traveler in family business, wanting to keep them safe and saying he will protect the Traveler with his life. The Traveler similarly shows the desire to protect Lyney, stepping in between him and his Father during conflict.
They resonate with one another concerning their twin siblings. Lyney having almost lost Lynette, and the Traveler being separated from their sibling. For the Traveler, this grew from jealousy to admiration, as they see Lyney caring so greatly for his family, a trait Traveler shares. Traveler understands and respects Lynsey’s loyalty to his (fatui) family, and would not be surprised if and when that loyalty drives them apart.
While they are close now after much effort rebuilding trust, they are both silently aware their friendship has an expiration date. Traveler’s goals contradict the Fatui. And with Lyney declaring his loyalty to the Knave as her successor, and this mysterious Fatui scheme the House of the Hearth have been roped into, they both know it’s just a matter of time before circumstance sees them on opposing sides of the battlefield. Though it remains unaddressed for now as they try to enjoy the time they have left together.
Hello: […] Well... Hmm, your eyes are like topaz, precious, pure, and lovely. I like them!
When it snows: Achoo! Phew... I've heard some say that when you sneeze, it means that someone's thinking about you. Is it Lynette, I wonder? Or... is it you?
Good Morning: C'mon, just five more minutes... Huh? Oh! It's you! I thought it was the radiance of the sunlight on my skin that I felt — turns out it was your radiance all along!
About Lyney, sweet talker: I should probably emphasize again that I'm rarely so open with anyone — I guess it's because you're not just anyone.
More about Lyney I: It seems we're both keenly interested in each other. Well, know that the honor is mine! Haha, relax. I couldn't ever tell lies to your mesmerizing eyes — not even if I tried!
More about Lyney V: […] Sometimes I think people would feel sorry for the real me. Do you? *sigh* Or do you find my little games absurd?
(Awwe he cares about what Traveler thinks.)
Ascension: Doing all this for me... Are you trying to steal this magician's heart, by any chance? Well, in that case, congratulations, my dear apprentice — or should I say, "companion." For you have succeeded!
Lyney: It's almost impossible for me to lie to your face... Maybe it's because I can't bear to see that hurt expression of yours.
Lyney: Say, why don’t you look at my hat? Do you see anything different about it?
Huh... Don't think there's any difference.
Lyney: Ah, but that just means you need to look at it more carefully! Just come a bit closer.
Well, alright then.
Lyney: […] No, the whole thing was misdirection.
Lyney: I just played a little trick, and stole something of yours. And after that, I also slipped a card into your bag.
Lyney: Now, can you guess what I stole from you?
My heart?
Lyney: A most unexpected answer! I have to say, even my heart has begun to race too.
Lyney: What I actually stole, however, was your "attention." Even though it's not nearly as valuable as your heart, it's still very important to us magicians nonetheless!
My... attention?
Lyney: Bingo! Congratulations, that was the right answer.
Lyney: […] Anyway, I just want to find a warm, free, and peaceful home for all of my animal assistants.
Lyney: A place where they'll always enjoy care and being lovingly looked after, with no need to worry about food or shelter...
Lyney: To be perfectly honest with you, this [Traveler’s teapot home] is by far the best choice for them that I know of... but I wouldn't want you to feel pressured to take them in, or to persuade you using honeyed words.
Lyney: Good morning, (Traveler)!
Lyney: It would be great if I could see you every morning.
#long post#genshin impact#aether#lumine#all these work with Lumine too I just like drawing Aether more#albedo#Xiao#scaramouche#kamisato ayaka#genshin jeht#lyney#albether#xiaother#scaraether#scaralumi#ayalumi#ayaether#for fun#sorry Jeht I haven’t played your quests I’ve heard good things about you#albelumi#xiaolumi#ayather
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.
Simon Riley masterlist
1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.
Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.
Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.
No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.
2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.
I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.
The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.
You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.
Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.
In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.
He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.
3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.
Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.
Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.
He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.
After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?
That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.
He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.
You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.
#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x female reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost imagine#ghost call of duty#ghost x reader#ghost cod#ghost#ghost x female reader
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
One thing I don't think I've ever seen talked about is how post-apocalypse ideation is largely about homelessness.
Homelessness looms large in the American consciousness. Like, not that it's irrelevant elsewhere, but it's got a particular cultural place in the US that's reflected in Hollywood, and therefore relevant because what makes it into film and TV sets the terms of so many conversations.
We don't acknowledge it if we can help it, but I think most people know they're never more than a few very bad months from winding up there.
Even people who are sure it only happens to people who deserve it, who fuck up and put one foot in the morass of their own foolish volition. Even they know the quicksand is there, waiting to be walked into, and that the odds are stacked against ever climbing out on your own once you have. And that they, too, are capable of fucking up. Of trusting the wrong person. Of getting cancer incorrectly.
And those of us who know damn well we can't be sure we're safe even if we do everything right, we know it even better.
And in that sense it doesn't matter what the world would realistically look like after X kind of apocalypse, what people would do, how society would adapt. Because the anxiety that's being processed is about the reality that's in existence now.
About what if my world ends. And I lose access to the fruits of developed society, to clean clothes and new glasses and running water, to a safe place to sleep where I don't expect to be killed or robbed, or driven out by men with guns and dogs. To my home and work and family and everything I usually use to tell me who I am.
What if every man's hand is against me, and every meal is a small victory, and there's only my own dwindling strength between me and the long night?
Will I make it? Will I hold up under the strain? Will I retain my dignity? Will I be lucky? Will I be able to protect the people I love, in that world, the world where no one is protecting us anymore?
Is there a way to continue to live as a human person, when you're denied the prerogatives of one, and don't know if you'll ever get them back?
Putting this anxiety into the context of a massive apocalypse divorces this scenario from the burden of shame tied up in the idea of winding up in that sort of situation in the normal course of events, by having society vanish rather than expel you, personally, as a washout, and continue on around you.
It also allows you to rule out a priori the question of what resources might be offered but can't in an anticipatory context be counted on; shelters and programs and housed friends and family who may or may not help. And narrow the narrative to only the question of what you can survive, and often a fairy tale about surviving all of it and starting over.
Rehearsing for a loss in a mythologized format is a very normal anxiety processing behavior, and I think a lot of apocalypse scenario building is attached to the buried dread of that personal apocalypse. But I haven't seen that one make the list.
9K notes
·
View notes
Text
y'all sleeping on Astarion/Lae'zel bc this moment is so...the way the flippant demeanor drops and he doesn't hesitate to call her out for sticking with her version of Cazador like their relationship is so underrated fr...
sitting down writing this bullshit like let me peel it like an onion a bit and elaborate why this pairing is fascinating to me
It's really interesting how during the most cathartic, life-altering moment in Astarion's questline, the reactions of the other companions are more about the moral wrongness/guilt of sacrificing innocent lives. Lae'zel doesn't do that and instead relates to his hurt.
She knows what's he's feeling, the lack of control, the unfairness of being powerless for too long. This is a woman who just found out her entire life purpose was built on lies, discarded and hunted by her own people after outliving her usefulness, and groomed to basically die for an insane power-hungry lich queen. She knows all too well that power isn't always real freedom. Her first instinct is to empathize with Astarion to steer him away from his hate and resentment.
Astarion/Lae'zel is so interesting to me because they're such a classic "can we make each other worse or make a better person out of the other?".
They both have genuine appreciation for violence and respect each other's ruthlessness. Astarion was used as a weapon of seduction while Lae'zel was of warfare. Sex with people is meaningless and not real intimacy for them, and while both have little understanding/experience of interpersonal relationships beyond the physical, they still feel and love very deeply. They have no frame of reference for things like friendship and warmth, but they badly want all of that and more, even if they don't know it yet.
In-game they can sleep with each other, which is basically the foundation of the normal Tav/Astarion romance. Lae'zel saw him during combat and got horny, who knows. Astarion who's used to luring people with his charms, takes up Lae'zel's blunt offer because she's a strong hardened warrior that can provide protection and be a worthy ally, and he doesn't know how to say no. Navigating the complications between one who wants to be seen beyond as a sex object, and one who comes from a totally alien culture with no concept of love/family/connections and only sex is honestly really compelling to me. It's a transactional, mutually beneficial thing with no emotional expectations. Once you get past the skeevy rockiness of their early relationship, I really like the idea of them slowly seeing something past the exterior and realizing they may have harshly misjudged the other, an unspoken friendship blooms, and in comes the realization that they are essentially loners longing for kindness and a comforting touch in the most desperate of situations.
Lae'zel is prideful, direct, has no sense of courtship talk, and doesn't hold back her thoughts the slightest--she's not sweet/agreeable and what you see is really what you get, which I imagine would be disarming for Astarion who's used to vacuous flattery and has difficulty trusting others. But she's also insanely protective, passionate, loyal, and an initiator-- every romance scene is triggered by her first and she's always showing effort towards her relationships, which would mesh well with Astarion who does need someone to nudge him.
She doesn't purposely suppress her feelings, she's just simply at loss at how to express them sometimes due to her wildly different upbringing. She stops the sparring match you agree to and an easy vulnerability slips instantly out of her: "I don't want to hurt you. I want to protect you, and for you to protect me." and "Thus far I've taunted you, devoured you, battled you. Now I want more than anything to soothe you." are romantic as fuck and Astarion of all people really needs to hear that tbh.
Astarion is also someone who struggles with reinforcing his boundaries, and a key theme in Lae'zel's romance is that she encourages and wants you to challenge her and learn to stand your ground. It's not gentlest method, but hey, relationships are about having to make an effort to learn each other's language.
I think he also would take pleasure "educating her on the matters of Fay-run" (I believe there's a whole banter with him teasing her and teaching her pet names) and would get a kick out of coaxing Lae'zel out of her shell with her shyness at showing public affection, and making her blush. Also it simply would be fucking funny to see Astarion who's used to easy seduction, trying to pass a persuasion check just to get a smooch and generally having to work to earn regular kisses from Lae'zel lmfaooo
Lae'zel also initially struggles to see her chains as chains. When she learns about Vlaakith's betrayal, she copes instantly through denial and shuts it down. Astarion is NOT having it and calls her out, he knows her well enough to recognize that she would value blunt honesty above all.
I imagine he also despises her lack of self-preservation, the way her entire identity is tied to duty and being in service of others, and doesn't understand her desire to still help/liberate the people that want her dead and are hunting her down. He wants to make this duty-bound soldier realize that looking out for herself, and putting herself first may not be the worst thing in the world.
They're so similar to each other but are also polar opposites in some ways that make a more equal, balanced romance I think. It's not a simple, one-sided, feel-good "she/he can fix her/him" fantasy because both of them have to earn each other's love, actually cut through the other's flaws, and actively motivate each other to be better versions of themselves.
They're not at all the other's ideal guiding hand. It's rough, jagged, and imperfect, but that's how healing goes. It's so far from being the healthiest relationship -- but even if their belief systems differ, their moral compass does often align. I imagine it's a slight relief for them to have a partner where there would be less shame and judgment when they expectedly, occasionally slip up and fall into their bad habits.
Also, man, the "You showed me the betweens and beyonds. Beyond war and peace, beyond passion and obsession, most importantly, you showed me freedom.", "First you were my wound, now you were my cure.", "But you saw something else in me - someone else I could be. Someone who could break the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago.." lines really hit hard when applied to them.
Of course, they can also make each other worse, feed into the other's negative traits that will bring out the worst part of themselves. It's this duality of their pairing that is very interesting to explore, the way it can steer in either direction because it's an intense, fraught relationship at its core.
#when he gets called by omeluum “child of the dark” and her “child of the stars” like yeah..the squid man is being literal but he Gets It fr.#lae'zel#astarion#bg3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 meta#astarion ancunin#astarion x lae'zel#lae'zel x astarion#the rarest of rarepairs they dont even got a ship name...this is so tragique we need to discuss the pathos and potential of this pairing#bg3 lae'zel#bg3 astarion#also im a sucker for stoic knight/court darling trope and whatever variations of it yeah#bloodbruise
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
DPxDC. Talon Dick. Part 2 of Danny Fenton is a new master of The Court of Owls
~Hail, Emperor, those who are about to die salute you~
Danny was terrified when he got the body of Talon in his morgue. The Court of Owls was notorious for leaving no trace after work. But Talon, a young man only a few years older than him, did not look like a mindless killing machine at all.
Of course, the first time he had a couple of stab wounds from his new acquaintance but after numerous assurances that his help would remain their little secret and that he would not inform his superiors that he had fucked up on the mission, Talon began to trust him a little. as one dead boy to another.
In a few months, most of the Talons come to him for first aid, and of course he got attached to the guys. After all, Gotham is not Amity Park and without the other dead ones around Phantom felt a little lonely. It was nice to give these poor people a few quiet minutes.
Danny’s assistant has warned him many times not to mess with the Court of Owls, but Danny are Phantom and from the first time he met one of them he was planning to lose his temper and beat the boys' bosses to free them.
Fenton was not prepared to lead the Court of Owls. Even if Danny got his education as a villain he never thought he’d work according to his profession. But leave a whole den? nest? of creatures turned into weapons he could not. Of course, the best choice after defeating the leaders of the Court would be to destroy the entire organization. But Danny couldn’t do that.
Talons were killers, means of intimidation, even if not of their own volition. They will be killed (again) or sent to prison for the rest of their lives. Talons needed safety and a good therapist, not all of this. Danny’s scared, and he doesn’t know how to take care of them, but the others won’t do it. People are afraid of everything different. They won’t care that these dead are just victims, they’ll only see monsters. He could be half-human, but now he has to think like a full ghost. Talons are dead like him. And they have been dehumanized, tortured, used. People can be cruel. To do the right thing, he has to protect them.
It was difficult for Danny to identify likes and dislikes of his new friends because they always had the same facial expression and were taught that they had no feelings. Bullshit. Danny’s parents also think ghosts have no emotions, but they just have wrong theories and do not manipulate them to make ghosts think the same. Well, maybe it’s because they don’t think ghosts can think at all, but still!
So, Danny know that number three loves strawberry jam, and number five always steals some of his cereal, and number 11 always gets closer to the music column to enjoy the sound. And he also know that the Talons weren’t fully fed in their organization because they definitely have problems with their digestive system, and he is going to fix it. Vlad said that he had trouble taking human food for only a few months after the portal accident, and some of the Talons were dead for years and still use injecting nutrient solutions. When a Dead Man can’t have a couple of spoons of treats, well, that’s a crime.
He needs to find a way to consult with Frostbite and conduct a full-fledged health diagnostics for his 'minions'. And he needs to settle the paperwork so guys have a legitimate reason to live in the Infinite Realms.
~~~~~
Danny: Hey Jazz, I’m in trouble. When can you come to Gotham? This time I don’t mind hearing a little advice.
~~~~~
Even though Dr Fenton smelled like death and blood all the time, the smell was different. And this difference was enough that something dead inside them swore allegiance to this Owl at their will. Not that they had it, of course. Weapons don’t have free will. But at least pretending to be able to choose is nice.
The new Master was weird, but in a good way. Not that this Talon know more about what is good than any other Talon. Ah, Di- Talon had a headache. Anyway, serving him is right. They all feel it..And feelings matter!! Well, they are not supposed to have them too but… looks like the young owl didn’t mind.
Master was not angry at how Talon № 4 frowned when the master had to pull a bullet out of his shoulder, and he missed Talon's sweet laughter when it saw the battle of Signal and Spice King on TV.
The only times he raised his voice to them were when they were trying to threaten people near the master. Looks like this owl wanted to instill fear on his own. Strange. Usually there was always an enemy of the court who had to be hunted down and destroyed.
~~~~~
Danny: See, when you kill people, you do not make it easy for me. First, I will need to examine the bodies and write the report of their death. Second, if their souls remain restless, they will become my problem again. No more trying to get the cashier to have a heart attack. He said they ran out of the product I needed, not that he’s cursing my family for the next millennium. No one wants to see any more angry ghosts in Gotham. Me after a 24-hour shift is enough, okay?
Talons were alarmed. So far the master had shown no signs that he might want to completely break one of the weapons. But what if this owl is planning on punishing them for all their mistakes at once when he’s really angry?
Talon is not supposed to show initiative or empathy. But Talon 12, who suffered an injury in the course of a mission with old owls, has not yet recovered.
They inadvertently hid it when the leadership changed. 12 has not yet met Doctor Fenton, and they do not know whether the privileges of medical care are retained now when they belong to him.
So far, the Master has been rather careless about their movements and a few of them have slipped away for a while to check on a fellow. They didn’t lie if they weren’t asked about another weapon, right? They shouldn’t be punished too severely when the Owl finds out.
Talons were hoping that Doctor Fenton, who was not in a hurry to look at the document of the court, would allow them not to write off the damaged thing. № 12 was an old and experienced weapon and could train beginners even if it has only one hand now.
Well, that was the plan. Talons allowed themselves to become too careless. Terrible mistake. Even the Owl that is usually nice to them remains dangerous. They need to find a way to satisfy their young master. Young Owls always have anger issues, not that Talons can judge.
The youngest Talon shared information that he sometimes had flashbacks of a working red bird who always had a murderous expression until he got to the coffee pot fluid. And it's non-Talon past was never afraid of this bird. The chick could always be calmed with this dark liquid. Coffee is something that will return the master to the favorable mood!
Talons rejoiced at this remarkable discovery and decided to send one of them on a mission as soon as possible to get rid of the potential danger.
~~~~
Danny: Thanks for the coffee, man. Hey, you also took another drink, judging by the dollars in the check. I'm so proud of you! How it was? Good?
Talon thought for a second and nodded. Yes, it was good. He didn’t drink the drink himself but when a coffee shop employee wrote down his order with a trembling hand, a boy appeared in the door.
This boy, now almost a young man, he was from his memories. Another coffee was automatically added to the order.
On his way out, Talon walked up to the sleeping chick and gave a cup to him. Even without opening his eyes, the bat’s cub sniffed and sucked the drink. Dick chirped with delight and patted boy's head, ignoring the frozen people.
That's a true magic drink which is commanding the minds of the powerful of this world. Yes, it will help them for sure!
~~~~
Danny: See, Jazz, Dick’s making progress! He went to the coffee shop today. That’s great, isn’t it?
Jazz: First, don’t call him that, we’re still not sure that’s his name and not the way Owls used to insult him.
Danny: Hey, the fact that he hissed when you called him Richard proves nothing. I don’t like being called Daniel either, or, over my dead body, Dan. I have to call him something. They’re all Talons. What are your suggestions?
Jazz: We’ll talk about this later. Now back to the coffee question. Danny, did you forget anything when you let Talon go for a walk?
Danny: Which one?
Jazz: Don’t play dumb! Did you open the news headlines today or not? This is serious!
Danny: What? Shit...civilian clothes. I didn’t think he’d wear a combat suit for it.
Jazz: Didn’t you give them outfits for everyday use?
Danny: Yeah, I did! But they still wear their Halloween outfits. All the time. Look, it’s not my fault they take everything I say as an order. When I asked them to make the tea and our teapot broke, they broke into some guy’s house and stole it.
Jazz: Which guy? Did you at least apologize?
Danny: One of Hood’s goons. I’m pretty sure he’s already met Dick on patrol, 'cause the first thing he did called Jason and start crying about being followed. Lucky for him Red was at my house that night and went to calm goon down. But I swear to you, Dick was a little shit on purpose. Of all the apartments choose his? Nah, such coincidences do not exist.
Jazz: I could be happy that he’s getting more independent in his decision making but now I feel like I have to offer the poor guy a discount therapy course.
Damian: Drake, we need to talk. I know about your investigation. You suspect one of the Talons is our missing Grayson. I’m willing to provide some evidence in exchange for…
Tim: I don’t suspect, I know that.
Damian: What? Where from?
Tim: Well, the quadruple somersault was a good hint. And the fact that the Red Hood ran from him through the streets screaming that he wouldn’t take lunch from a damn golden child is also a tip.
Damian:...Not a word to my father until we know more, right? I don’t want my older brother thrown in Arkham.
Tim: Agree. It’s not like he doesn’t have a memory problem. He wouldn’t have made Alfred worried if leaving was his choice. We need more information.
Meanwhile in Gotham, Alfred aka the only one batfam member with more than one functioning brain cell *on his way to his first grandson and future husband of his sweet angel Jason*.
Danny: Jazz, we need to clean this house right now.
Jazz: Since when do you start spring cleaning?
Danny: I don’t know how to explain, it’s not a ghost sense, it’s more an unexplained sense of danger. Where’s the vacuum cleaner?
~~~~~
Talon №5 stood in the knitting shop in thought. What color would the little mistress prefer? It should remain useful even if the Owl does not give them direct orders. Knitting a cute sweater for mistress Dani would be a good start. Yeah, that color’s gonna be perfect. And maybe it should stop holding those needles like a weapon, it makes the cashier nervous, and he wants to pay without saving a civilian from losing consciousness.
~~~~~
Danny became a little alarmed when Talon threw himself at the old man standing on the porch. To his surprise, the Briton readily embraced the bird, and Dick let him.
Talons who stood behind Danny happily chirped. Making their youngest member happy things always meant something good.
Alfred: Gentlemen, good afternoon. I guess I should thank you all for taking care of my dear grandson. Would you let me come in for a cup of tea?
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Rules
Summary: Joel wants you pregnant. And you want to have Joel's baby. And not even a big council meeting would stop the two of you from getting what you wanted.
Pairing: Raider!Joel Miller x fem. reader
Wordcount: 1.9k
Rating: E
Warnings: Raider!Joel who has his own little community, smut (public sex, unprotected sex), massive breeding kink, dirty talk, established relationship (kind of), unspecified age gap (around 15 years prob), massive exhibition kink, someone dies because he looks at reader for too long, so guns and death, mentions of drugs, Joel picks reader up and carries her away but this is fiction so Joel has super powers to carry anyone he likes anywhere because I say so
A/N: three fics, four days. I am going to hibernate into my horny jail now. Boop!
follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics
It was getting dark and he still wasn’t back.
He told you he had the council meeting today, but you were running out of time. Every minute getting you farer away from the window you needed him to hopefully grant him his biggest wish.
Making him a Dad.
According to your calculations your fertile window for the month was closing and you needed him.
Joel and you found each other almost a year after the outbreak. You, alone since you fled your college on outbreak day, stumbling towards the abandoned Ikea store in search of just something to drink or eat, Joel stepping in front of you before you could even reach the door, his hand wrapping around your neck, making you look at him as he questioned what you were doing.
Even years later you felt like he was sent to you from a higher power to safe you.
To feed you.
To own you.
To fuck you.
You became his wife, not even a month after joining his little group, that now was bigger than ever before, people living in all the abandoned department stores around, living under his protection.
You were his only wife, even though he allowed all his men to have as many wives as they pleased.
He was pretty possessive about you, and you over him. Sure, you couldn’t actually do anything against him taking another wife if he wanted to, but he assured you from the beginning that he was a one wife kind of husband.
And he demanded the same in return, not that you had a problem with that.
Joel was known to be a fair but ruthless leader. He had no time for bullshit and he didn’t give second chances.
The power he wielded had become one of your biggest turn ons, fascinated how with a flick of his fingers, his men would dispose of every problem, every person he did not trust.
There weren’t many rules around here.
Listen to everything Joel says.
And don’t look at you the wrong way.
Something that you had to admit was hard when he was fucking you out in the open hallway.
Most of his men knew not to look at you too long, no matter if it was in passing or when Joel was fucking you in front of them.
You would look too, but you weren’t the one who would lose their cock or life for it.
Glancing at the clock you knew your fertile window was closing. He had fucked you twice today already, but you didn’t want to waste more time.
Standing up from the bed you took your clothes including your underwear off, grabbing a wrap dress he had found for you years before, wrapping it around your body. Pulling on some high heels he loved to see you in, looking at yourself in the mirror you gave yourself a small smirk, before you opened the door, waiting for your assigned guard of the day to step away from the door, before you started to walk towards where you knew Joel held his meetings.
„This is becoming a real fucking problem. A problem I pay you for to get rid off. What the fuck is taking so long?“ Joel hissed, his jaw twitching as he sat at the edge of the table, legs wide spread, a glass of whiskey in his right hand.
He had been stuck in this room with twenty of his men and nothing was going according to plan.
It was moment like this he really missed Tess. She’d have this shit done weeks ago.
„More clickers than we planned for. We hope we’ll be done by the end of tomorrow,“ Sam, one of the men who had been with his group the longest assured, and Joel sipped on his drink.
„I want the whole building cleared by the end of the week. Then I want you to extend the outer wall around it. We need more fucking space so we can extend the drug lab. Frank is expecting a new drop by the end of the month in exchange for more ammunition,“ he reminded them.
„I’ll take care of it personally,“ Tommy said, who was sitting to his right, looking at him and Joel gave him a quick nod.
„There are to many fucking assholes trying to get into this settlement. Too many to handle. Might be time to stop for a while,“ one of his other advisors spoke up but Joel wasn’t listening to anything after that, cause he heard the familiar clicking of your heels before the door opened and you walked in.
A vision in purple silk, giving him a big smile as you walked into the room, the men around him staggering to their feet to show you their respect.
„Please, don’t let me interrupt you. In fact, ignore my presence at all,“ you hummed, giving Tommy a quick peck to his cheek before you turned away from the table and straddled Joel’s lap, his hands coming to rest on your thighs.
The conversation behind him opened up again, Tommy taking over while Joel stared at you.
You made quick work of releasing the bow that held your dress together, letting the fabric part, his hungry eyes all over your naked body. One of his hands cupped one of your tits and you smiled at him.
„Whatcha up to baby girl?“ He asked, already hardening in his pants.
„Need you to cum in my wet little pussy again. Need you to fuck it deep inside of me so I can give you your baby,“ you leaned in, nibbling at his earlobe. He groaned as he tilted his head, his eyes closing for a moment as you kissed up his neck, his hands now both under your dress palming your ass roughly.
When his eyes opened he found one of his newer men, Tom, looking at you, his eyes widening for a moment when he saw Joel had caught him, looking away quickly.
„First strike,“ Joel’s voice boomed and you moaned before you kissed him, your hands in his hair, Joel’s eyes on Tom who had had the nerve to look at his wife. At you.
Everyone knew the rules.
They look at you for too long, they die. He had lost a lot of men that way, but he didn’t fucking care.
Your fingers were working on his zipper when the conversation in the room picked up again, one of the other men talking about the greenhouse and what shit they needed in the future.
Boring.
Joel grunted when your fingers wrapped around his cock, helping you pull his pants down a little so you could pull him out of his pants and he leaned down, sucking at you tits.
„You gonna fight our kid for my milk huh,“ you teased and he bit into your nipple, making you moan.
„Gotta get you pregnant first, baby girl,“ he sucked a bruised just above your right tit while you pumped his cock in your fist.
„You gonna make me shoot all my men if you tease me like that one day,“ he grunted, bringing one hand between your legs, three fingers slipping inside of you with ease, a smirk coming to his lips.
„My dirty little whore,“ he whispered against your ear and you gasped, your back arching against him, your dress falling down your shoulders, exposing your naked back to the room.
Not that you cared.
You loved when he fucked you in front of other people.
„Put your little pussy on this cock, baby girl,“ the fingers that had just been inside of you pushing into your mouth as you lifted your ass so you could line his cock up, sinking down on him slowly.
„Fuck baby,“ you moaned and he leaned back in his seat, both of his hands now on your ass as he looked up at you.
„Make yourself cum on this cock and I’ll fuck your ass later,“ he said and you whimpered as you began to ride him. Moving your hips on top of him, your hands on the armrests of his chair for leverage. He slapped your ass, hard, and you cried out.
He watched you satisfied as you fucked yourself on his cock, before his eyes found someone behind you.
„Don’t bother Elijah, his wife is super fucking pregnant. Find me tomorrow morning, and I’ll go,“ Joel said, still clearly listening to the conversation happening in front of him. You clenched around him and he looked at you again.
„You get so fucking wet for me like this. Maybe I should always let you fuck me in my meetings. Would make them a whole of a lot more enjoyable,“ he hummed at you and you smiled.
„You’d loose all your men within a week,“ you grinned, turning your head to look at Tommy.
„Except Tommy,“ you hummed and the man looked at you, giving you a wink.
„Tommy is family. He can look all he wants,“ Joel said and you winked back at Tommy before you focused back on Joel and began to bounce on top of him. The sound of skin slapping against skin and you moans filling the room. Joel played with your tits, pinching your nipple as you clenched around him. He pulled you against his chest, fucking up into you, his mouth against your ear.
„Cum for me and I’ll fuck you on the table. And I’ll let everyone look when I put a fucking baby into your belly,“ he whispered and you moaned loudly as your orgasm washed over you, only realising that he had picked you up and sat you down on the table, when he had pushed your back down against the cold surface and began to drill his cock into you.
„Watch how I fuck my slutty little wife full of my fucking cum,“ he grunted out with every thrust and you stretched your arms over your head, your tits moving with every hard thrust of Joel’s cock into you.
„Joel,“ you moaned, crying out when he slapped your clit.
„Gonna fuck you so full, you’ll be dripping all the way back to our rooms,“ he groaned, his eyes on you.
„Shit baby,“ you whined and he groaned.
„Watch,“ he grunted and you looked down, his cock pumping into you, your cum all over his cock, fucking you so hard the table was moving over the floor.
„Shit,“ he moaned, his thrusts getting sloppier until he twitched and filled you with his cum, pumping it deeply into you.
Still out of breath you gave him a dozy smile that he mirrored, before his eyes darkened, his gun in his hand the next moment, raising it up to shoot someone behind you.
„Inform Tom’s family that he won’t be back,“ he said to no one in particular before he reached for you, helping you sit up. Apparently Tom had in fact not stopped looking at you before Joel gave his permission to look.
He pulled the fabric of your dress back over your shoulders, his softening cock still inside of you, before he picked you up.
„Meeting is dismissed,“ he called over his shoulder, before he carried you back towards your rooms.
Where he fucked you once more to make sure it would finally take.
#my fic#Joel Miller#Joel Miller x fem. reader#Pedro pascal#joel miller fanfiction#raider!Joel Miller#tlou#tlou fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#fan fiction
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
What interactive fiction would you recommend (besides this one)?
oh anon i follow over 150 if blogs let me get you some of my favorites😊 This is very long so all of them are under the cut🫶
some of these you'll probably already have heard of bc of how popular they are, but trust me, they're popular for a reason, lmao
these ones all have demos (if i messed up and some dont uh ignore that)
@infamous-if - "You're going to be a superstar, no matter what it takes." genuinely one of my favorites ifs (seven lawless my beloved please come back home the kids are asking whats taking so long)
@coeluvr - "You play as the only remaining member of the royal family of Vesphire; living in the home of the man who took away everything from you." another ive been obsessed with recently. i will forever love revenge stories (and my pookie helios)
@merrycrisis-if - "As a late 20-something year-old fresh from a recent break-up and struggling to pay rent in New York, life throws up more questions than answers."
@ramonag-if - "When your village is razed to the ground, you're left fleeing with an exiled prince. You can trust no one but each other. Your father's dying wish was to protect the prince, but can you really trust a man who was exiled from his kingdom?"
@nyehilismwriting / Project Hadea - "Set in a distant future, you play the role of an elite operative of Scytha Industries, a private contracting firm. ‘Contracting’, in this case, refers to anything from political assassinations, to private security, to bodyguard services."
@vapolis - "You’re a mercenary, gun for hire, assassin, information extractor, delivery person – call it what you want, because the people that hire you for your services don’t give much of a shit what you call yourself as long as you actually get them what they want."
@godsandvillains-if - "As the only metahuman with the ability to wield the powerful Chaos Magic, your very blood holds the answers to unlocking the secrets behind the control of time and space, but it has the drawback of being almost completely volatile."
@hvllowheart - "LAMB TO THE SLAUGHTER is a spy game where you take on the role of an agent under the codename Wraith, who up until two years ago was one of the best agents TERRA has ever made. now the agency returns into your life and pulls you back into the field as agents go missing by the dozens."
@eyesofshan-if - "Years ago, you were uprooted from the only home you had ever known and captured to be sold as a slave. Now, war is at your doorstep once more while you are left in a delicate position — as a commander of the country that invaded your homeland. While investigating a case of illegal human trafficking, you come across a plot that threatens to rip this tentative peace apart."
@apt502-if - "Moving from your small home to New York City was supposed to be a dream. You were supposed to start your new life with your long-distance partner and dive headfirst into full-on adulthood. Everything was supposed to be perfect. How can you not love being in your mid-twenties in the Big Apple?That is until your put-together, white collar partner dumps you the same day you arrive. Fun."
@acourtofserpents - "As the only human in the Kingdom of Faerie, you're no stranger to shining eyes that hold looks filled with hatred, lips painted in the color of forest fruits whispering your name, heads with pointed ears turning at your every step. Though you long for their approval, for a place amongst the wicked immortals, they remind you with every breath you take that as you came from dirt, to dirt you will return."
@softlyopulent-if - "All of King Adder’s children are a mystery to the common folk, but you—you are nothing but a ghost. A ghost, that spends eighteen years locked away in the deepest part of the palace, so that no eyes may lay upon you.And those that do—they do not treat you kindly.And when you are finally of age, at last, you are betrothed to the child of the King of a far away kingdom, to secure an alliance that your father has been seeking for years.And you are swept away to a place even more foreign than your own land, to be wed to a stranger that looks at you with contempt. To live in a kingdom of citizens that despise you. And perhaps, just perhaps, fight a war."
@heromaker-if - "Stories of heroes, legends and chosen ones are commonplace. But you'd never thought it was your child who would have to save the world from the Demon Lord's clutches."
@theabyssal - "In The Abyssal, you assume the control of a powerful deity that was betrayed by their fellow gods. Imprisoned against your will for all eternity, you had a long time to plan your revenge."
@milaswriting - "By birth, and association, you are one of the most famous people in the big city of Lehsa. Your father's the mayor, and you're from a bright, vibrant, bustling city... and yet, until recently, you didn't realise all the secrets yourself and the city held."
@zico-if - "You were supposed to be a sacrifice in order to bring an eldritch god to your realm, a sacrifice that was never supposed to live. Instead of dying and summoning the god intended, you find yourself face to face with an ancient being that was chained and locked away for the horrors they once committed."
@collegetennisoriginstory - "Experience the ups-and-downs of life as a freshman on the Cargill University varsity tennis team amongst a colorful cast of characters."
@disenchantedif - "You used to be a beacon of hope. Now they only know you as the failure, the Unchosen. Will you rise above them? Will you become better or far worse than they could ever imagine?"
@bouncyballcitadel - "Play as a first-year surgery intern at Citadel Health. Will you become the star intern and curry the favor of the chief? Or will you uncover Citadel Health’s secrets and break a story or two? This will be the best and worst year of your life. Don’t forget to save lives and break some hearts along the way."
@leoneliterary - "You play as a thief pressed into the employ of a mysterious nobleman. With the your life, the fate of your guild, and your honor on the line, you'll have to navigate the perils of the royal court and combat a more mystical threat. The story is set in Cusmo, the naturally fortified, desert capital of Hashind, and will showcase the much praised Upper Cusmo, the crime ridden Lower Cusmo, and much more."
@doriana-gray-games - "Play as your version of Sherlock Holmes in this romance detective game!"
@fallenlightsif - "You are the half-sibling of High General Ezrah Rhys and have lived the past twelve years of your life in Kesdon, the capital of Ebia. You've spent most of your time training and honing your skills for the future that awaits you. A future that is entirely your own."
@shai-manahan - "They call you Ripper. It’s a horrendous name to give to a detective like you, and definitely not one you chose for yourself, but you suppose it’s to be expected given your reputation for putting powerful people behind bars. Businesses feared you. The other cops hated you. Local gangs despised your entire existence. Yet, despite all of that, you remained untouched. Until that day, when all the lies and the deception and the foolish mistakes turned your life upside down."
@larkingame - "someone is after you. for over a decade and a half now, you’ve traveled up, down and across the country--running schemes and hunting fiends with your mentor, con-man-by-day, vampire-hunter-by-night, Wyatt Abrams--the prolific vampire slayer and the living descendant of Gregory Abrams, founder and prophet of the Abrams Family, the nomadic vampire-hunting cult that raised you--and was wiped out years ago. carrying the abrams name means also means carrying on it's enemies--but that isn't to say you haven't forged a couple of your own along the way. now, it seems someone is trying to make good on old threats and promises. they've placed a bounty on your head. so you and wyatt do what you do best: you run away. to some little town, out nevada ways, where the title of town preacher is unexpectedly thrust upon you--bringing back years of trauma you thought long tucked away."
@evertidings - "you are a bounty hunter. responsible for taking in rogue supernaturals, you work for IAOS—the international agency of supernaturals—where, alongside your best friend and partner, you two have quickly become the best hunting duo of the branch. after a particularly tricky hunt, you brief your boss, Caine Atheron, and come back to work the next day to find that he has mysteriously disappeared overnight, the company is now in the hands of his best friend, Sebastian Mai. and though no one else seems to question it, something tells you that there's more to the story."
@rotten-games - Regrets Of The Traitor: "You are the Ruler of Hadaria after killing the previous Queens and betraying all who once trusted you. Sat upon the throne with all the power available to you, one would be forgiven for believing you finished with your quest. With a strange figure in your dreams speaking vague prophecies of magical artifacts, a mysterious cult moving into the city, and a group intent on unseating you from your place, perhaps you’re way in over your head for a farmer’s kid. City of Immortals: "You follow a pair of siblings worlds apart as they get accustomed to their new realities in two very different worlds. One trapped in an unnatural desert wasteland where every resource has a scarcity, not knowing if they’ll be the only one left when everything turns to dust, the other working as a private investigator in a sprawling underground metropolis of the undying. Each not knowing the other is alive, will they unravel the mysteries that somehow connect their two new homes?"
@shepherds-of-haven - "Shepherds of Haven is a dark fantasy interactive fiction game. In it, you play as a Mage living in a world where magic is outlawed and your people—those possessing supernatural powers—are oppressed and reviled. The world is ruled by humans who believe in science, technology, and industry: at best, you and your kind are nothing more than a fairytale, and at worst you are the state’s greatest threat."
@someoneverypretty-world - "As a child, growing up in the slums of Hvinir without any guardians, you believed you would not live to see 30. Until Haven, a thief guild, took you in and taught you how to survive. Facing hardships, the guild leader tasks you to sneak into the castle with the mission to take."
@northern-passage - "The Northern Passage is an 18+ horror fantasy CYOA, where you play as a hunter sent up north to investigate a series of missing people along the border of your home country and in the port cities of the Blackwater. Working with your handler, Lea, you will travel north and discover that things are far worse than you ever could have imagined, and that there is something powerful lurking out in the deep, dark sea…"
@thedecoy-if - "♔ The Decoy is a dark fantasy that follows you, a 21st century normal human, kidnapped to an alternate magical universe to play the part of the missing heir to a powerful throne...who also happens to be your doppelgänger. ♔"
@ripperplague - "You are a doctor, a prodigy in hiding. Deep in the underbelly of Valeris, you hide among the shadows. You work hard to wring the blood stains off your palms, your face...your soul. Redemption and revenge are parallel goals, the flames of rage and disgust mingling. How could anyone ever love you?"
These ones dont have a demo yet, but im still absolutely obsessed
@pavedinashes-if - "You're only 20 when suddenly your life goes bam! Throwing you into a whole new city, a different country even. Wasn't part of the plan, but you know how life loves to mess with plans. People happened, stuff happened, and suddenly you're on the move. The new chapter ahead? Buckle up, 'cause it's not gonna be all sunshine and rainbows. And guess what? Your step-mom? Yeah, she's right there in the same city. She's always had this knack for trying to steer your ship, like every decision's a GPS checkpoint. But hey, there's this one thing that's never let you down—your skateboard. It's like the buddy that's been with you through thick and thin, the one that never bails. Among all this craziness it's like your anchor. So, the big question is—can you break out of the loop you got in? Find your place in the world and restart or lose yourself in temptation? Time to find out."
@riptide-if - "Your dad has always said you swim as if your were born to be in the water; the rest of your family has always said that he is the whole reason you turned out like that. So, it's not really a surprise when you had used all the money you got for your 7th birthday to buy a surfboard. And even less of a surprise when you started joining small surf competitions by the time you were 10, later followed by bigger competitions. It seems you are the only one surprised when it turns out you're able to compete in the World Surfer's League's Ultimate Tournament Tour*. Thrown into a mix of fellow surfing prodigies, rookies, and pros, do you really have what it takes to win?"
@weepinwriter - "You are inmate No. 1441, incarcerated in Tartarus, the most notorious prison on the continent. You find yourself imprisoned for a crime that you do not remember committing, leaving you in a state of uncertainty about your own identity and purpose. The first memory you have is awakening to the sensation of a gun being shoved into your mouth."
@whatawaitsus - "Despite being one of the most expensive schools in the nation, nothing particularly interesting has happened at the school in the nine years you've been here— aside from the occasional accidental possession caused by a ghost or the common room getting flooded after a nixie gets too frustrated over their homework. That is until students start to go missing."
@evermount - "Blue-suited guards stand in every corner, but they're no threat—you're under threat. And this is how you keep safe. It's necessary; the council said so themselves. Under no circumstances shall Evermount be left, ever. So, no one has, and no one intends to. Why would you? It's peaceful—you're at peace. You have your spouse, and you have your house; everyone's happy. This is all you've ever known."
@forsakensword-if - "When the Deathless, an Ancient Evil that hasn’t been seen in over two million years, returns to Earth, it threatens the extremely precarious peace that has settled between the warring factions of Heaven and Hell. God, in an effort to protect Humanity from the consequences of a war between the Angels and Demons, sends Heaven’s best warriors to banish the Deathless once more. When that ultimately fails, it is declared that God’s Sworn Sword and Heaven’s Chief Angel will be charged with finding a way to destroy the Deathless once and for all. That Angel is you. The Archangel Michael."
@velena-if - "You wake up in a dark, cold place with no memories of yourself, save for one: the memory of your death. It becomes clear soon enough that you are in the Nav, the domain of the goddess of death, Morana, and the sanctuary of all the evil spirits and monsters. For you, Nav will be the place where your life changes forever."
@countdown-if - "Three months ago, life took a sharp turn. Your mother found herself entangled in a situation so bad, she couldn't dig her way out of it, like usual. This time, the hole was way too deep. She needed help, and the only people capable of aiding her were the same ones she had vowed never to allow back into her life, let alone introduce to you and your younger sibling. Who were they? Your grandparents—a powerful and well-established duo. In short, they did manage to help your mother back on her feet, but not without strings attached—never without strings. Now, you're facing a senior year in a private school, fully funded by none other than grandma and grandpa, dearest. The only task at hand: do what your mother couldn't—graduate."
@dropout-if - "This is your first summer home since you began studying in Stanford. That is what everyone thinks. This is your first summer home since you dropped out of college, thus becoming the biggest disappointment in your neighborhood. That is what only you know. "
@stonewall-if - "Stonewall Military Academy: the most brutal, merciless, and unforgiving boarding school in the country. Most recruits either desert or die by the end of their first year. It is where the fiercest and deadliest killers are trained and molded to be the military's steel fist. And it is not for the faint of heart."
@viperdove-if - "You are the Dove, the heir to one of the most powerful crime families in your country. The grip your family--your father--has on their side of the land is tight, and now that you've reached adulthood it's time for you to be fully absorbed into the machinations of gang warfare. That means opium, mercenaries, assassinations. In this ancient world, blood moves people just as much as money does."
@fallen-if - "You are an individual that has been known by many aliases over the years. Child of the dawn, the original sinner, star of the morning. But no matter the name, your identity remains the same. You are the one that defied the heavens, the one that cast aside the shackles of tradition and broke free from the constraints of the divine. You are Lucifer Morningstar - The Fallen Angel. "
@maboroshi-if - "Maboroshi is an Interactive Fiction Game based in the world of Naruto, however, all events within the story span during the end of the First Shinobi War and the beginning of the Second Shinobi War."
@greatprotector-if - "Forced out of your family's farm against your will, you are now an ocean away from home, and you have somehow been chosen to be the main protector of the heir to some kingdom you’ve hardly even heard of. The spot's only open because the former protector died of old age, so that's probably a good indicator that it won't be as strenuous as it sounds. But despite that, you pour yourself into your work. You can't help it. You feel safer decked out in armour, and you like having something you're trusted to look after. Protect some royalty, cover all your blind spots, and try not to worry about all you've left behind."
@retribution-if - "Retribution, He Cries is a revenge story set in the Dark Ages of the fictional world of [REDACTED] and other realms."
@thescarsilivewith-if - "You were a kind monarch once. After your mother’s brutal reign, you thought your people needed respite. Evidently, they didn’t think the same since their bloodthirst only increased. Three years after your coronation, your mother’s favourite consort dethroned you with the army and the clergy’s support. As you fled from the palace together with your spouse, from an arranged marriage celebrated only three months earlier, you were found by slavers. You managed to save your spouse but not yourself. Four years later, your spouse finds you, though you’re not the same person they knew. You are not changed in spirit alone, however, for your magic grew in your captivity and now you’re unbound. When the crown chose you as its owner, you wanted peace for your kingdom. Now the only thing you crave is revenge."
#thanks anon!#this took me way too long lmao#i was gonna add more but u can only @ 50 blogs in one post🙁#anyways! enjoy🫶#rec list#other ifs.
757 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thrill me, Fulfill me
You agreed to help for one mission—now you are both lustful and carnal, affected by sex pollen—you are flint, he is tinder.
Warnings - sex pollen, smut, rough/possessive sex, Hydra past, breeding kink, choking kink, multiple orgasms
Words - 8k
(the 3D render is for this fic, enjoy :3)
The horizon tips on its side, and slowly, hour by hour, the day spills out and soon the night will spread its darkness—traveling through the countryside is a charming escape and in a chronicle of events, with the light of the days—you feel the light inside too, your human spirit wanders in thoughts as you sit on the BMW’s trunk with closed eyes. It is June, and the world smells of roses, moments like these leave a rich heritage of beautiful memories in their going—in a fortunate combination of delightful weather, Bucky and freedom—your soul feels at peace.
“I talked with Sam, he wants me to help him” There is an endearing nervousness in his voice “I was wondering if you would like to come with us”
In an instant, you reply with an annoyed face “No”
“No? Come on, you need people other than me in your life”
He scolds as he nests between your legs, fingers finding their way on both sides of your hips, drawing soft circles as they travel up towards your waist.
You arch an eyebrow at him, as if the answer is obvious “I don’t need others”
“You will love Sam, I told him about us, I mean-about us living together”
“You did, why?” you clip your words, hissing them into his face as you give a wide-eyed, searching look.
“I used to invite him over to my apartment, he started wondering why I stopped. I wanted him to know anyways”
“What else did you tell him?” you look at him with an arrested expression. His smile fades, and he finds himself staring into your eyes “James?”
It is only a brief moment, but you catch his blink of surprise at your demanding tone before he offers a tentative smile.
“I-I told him about your connections and he was hoping that-” he trails off quietly and you notice a tightness around his mouth and a dimness to his usually bright eyes.
You regard him thoughtfully and he sees the comprehension dawning in your eyes. You know exactly what he is asking.
“Did you miss the part of how I built them?” you ask, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
He huffs in annoyance “Well no, but don’t worry-”
“Oh, hey Sam, I am another brainwashed assassin and when I escaped I did it willingly, for money, nice to meet you by the way”
“I get it, but you are changi-”
You snap, pinching your eyebrows close together.
“And this is my former partner who I used to occasionally fuck at Hydra and now that we have reconnected, we are fucking and living together”
“Anything else you want to add?”
“No, that's all” you finish bitterly, furious with him for letting Sam know so much about you.
“He already met you once in Madripoor, he knows about your past. Trust me, he is a good person, he accepted me”
You let out a hollow laugh
“I am not Captain America’s best friend, James. I am nobody, I don’t even have a legal identity”
You explain in a humorous yet deprecating tone, staring into space.
“Look at me, you need to trust me” he coos, his blue eyes have a doorway to your heart, the place where his care for you resides “I know that you are scared, but you need other people in your life”
It's the caring that he lovingly gives, the passion that he shows—that convinces you every time.
“If I break your heart, I break mine, darling”
Shifting your mouth from a frown into a light-hearted smile, you let out a small chuckle from underneath your breath. His metal hand rests on the small of your back, in that sweet spot that makes you feel feminine and protected—vanity, fear, uncertainty—all such distortions within your own ego—condition you to stay silent about your own feelings. Your programmed mind-pattern still needs to heal, all you need is time, you will get there eventually.
You kiss him on the cheek, which kind of surprises him.
“Хубаво, ще дойда” (Okay, I will come)
His gaze flickers up to your eyes and he can detect no deceit, no mockery.
There are many circumstances that lead to arrogance: one is when you're wrong and you can't face it—but you decide to face it this time, because you know that your brain relies on the familiar. It is reluctant to experience the unknown, which is the very essence of your human life.
The past should have no power over the present, but it still does sometimes—anger and death are deeply rooted, your emotional thermostat is broken. Everything in you is broken—you view yourself as pieces and Bucky somehow sees you as a whole.
Inside, your soul was so cold that you hated everything. You even despised the sun, for you knew you would never be able to play in its warm presence—you were condemned to stick to the past, working as a hitman for years. Everything changed when Bucky decided to track you down. You knew he was spying on you, because you made it easier for him.
You were afraid of the aloneness that you trusted for so long, but that is the truth that you still store in the granary of your mind. Maybe you will tell him one day. Maybe one day you will let him know that he helps you abandon your corporeal prison.
"Я просто люблю запах страха" (I just love the smell of fear) you whisper—a knife-wielding lunatic.
You face the attackers in a kind of instantaneous flash and see the disconsolate eyes, which remain stamped on your heart like the hot coals of fear, the power of death is then borne out by you—the queen at the bloody carnival, not afraid to spill blood while Bucky tries to prevent hurting, killing people at all cost.
It is easy when you work together, just as in the past—but he is holding back, you are not used to seeing him fight so carefully—Winter’s brutality is non-existent.
You sigh as the last man drops dead to the ground. With a knife in his chest. Or, rather, a pair of knives in the chest.
Yes, you helped them locate the rumored Hydra base, but Bucky’s intense paleness on his face shows regret, because you still don’t mind killing—you give him a pitying smile when your eyes meet before your system is poisoned with something.
It is such a tumultuous and intemperate invasion that you forget why you are here. And then your eyes meet again, there is fascination in his gaze, menaced by some invisible danger, and you want to succumb the terrible desire to weep when you realize what it is and you look at the mysterious trembling of your hands—your gaze goes up, but Bucky is nowhere to be seen.
He knows he has to go somewhere, he heads back to the apartment and he has feelings of sorrow, regret, directionless rage, a broad feeling of impotence. The horror of this misfortune penetrates Bucky so deeply that he is close to a panic attack—as if reliving the nightmare he sometimes has—Hydra giving him the pollen back in 1990.
He wanders all through the rooms as if walking in his sleep, chewing on his quiet rage.
He knows the theoretical mechanics of the pollen and he can barely stay on his feet because of the weakness of his knees, his skin is burning and he can’t resist the urgent need to palm himself through his pants—it starts slow and will go progressively worse.
He rubs his hand over his scalp, where his long hair used to be—now shaved very close to his head and bristling against his fingers, he lowers his blue eerily crystalline eyes before closing them. He feels like he should be crying, but he couldn’t summon the tears.
—it’s all his fault. Why did he need to come to your apartment a year ago, on a beautiful August’s evening?
„I knеw that we were following me, Soldat,“ you loudly acknowledge him, drawing out the derogatory term while your back is turned to him.
Stillness wraps Bucky up in a cold embrace, a chill running down his body as he hears you speak. On the string spun of your angel voice, grief and pain drowns him. The tone drawn from memory in his dreams it’s the same, unblinking, robotic as you offer him one spare look before focusing on cutting vegetables on the wooden board.
He exhales, then he slowly enters the apartment. „It is not Soldat, it’s Sergeant now“ his breath hitches and he stops as soon as he enters the room.
There is a crack in his stoic expression, excruciating memories flooding his mind. He knew that somewhere, some day, maybe at a less miserable time, you may see each other again, but he couldn't wait any longer.
The memories are still in his mind and the pain—too ripe in his heart. The more deeply he felt, the less he was able to breath, thinking of grief, and of getting past it.
That's why he came. He needs you in more ways that he wants to confess.
„Oh? What do you want, Barnes?“ your face is carefully blank.
„I wanted to talk to you“ he starts, taking a couple of steps towards.
Shadows lick up the side of his cheekbones, making his skin gold as he slowly walks to the opposite side of the kitchen island, you hear him move the wooden seating.
„And you couldn’t just-I don’t know…have knocked on the door?“
„Sorry, I didn’t know how to-“
He says, a tremor makes his voice uneven. Bucky takes in a deep breath to balance out the embarrassment thrumming through him.
„It is easier to be loyal to past habits, can’t blame you“ you murmur, voice perfectly respectful as you think about it with a heavy heart.
You said it as a matter of fact, without the scorn and mockery, but as an accepted truth before placing the knife you have been using, on the cutting board and finally facing him completely as you step closer to the island as well, leaning forward on your elbows.
But the wintery feeling of the pollen is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring that summer's memory of meeting you.
The memory played in his head, with a hopeless nostalgia that he was completely disoriented—he doesn't care if you are heartless, vicious and vulgar, stupid, grasping with incurable programming and mental problems, he enjoys spending time with you. He would rather have misery with you than happiness with any other person, because it is shared, you have a deep and silent understanding.
He was so happy when you suggested living together four months ago—he was okay with the sleepovers at each other's apartments—never was bothered with the need to rush your companionship.
The key to personal development lies in the daily routine—creating new memories with you stretches out psychological time, and lengthens his perception of both your and Bucky’s lives. When he wakes up from a nightmare he is so relieved, because he wakes to a dream, he enjoys the miracle of living with each other as much at the table as in bed.
Bucky finally lays on the bed, his head aches. He admits that he is still human, vulnerable, and sensitive—but he begins to remember how it had been when Hydra gave him the pollen and his self revolted at this, hates himself for not being able to fight it, hates himself for bringing you here.
He is sick with conflict, destructive emotions festeres in him while this sludge eats away at his insides and Bucky is acutely conscious of the swift passage of time, it will make him become blunt and callous—there is a certain clinical satisfaction in seeing just how bad things can get for him, but maybe this is what he deserves.
When you push open the bedroom door, you can’t prevent it from scraping against the uneven floor. Suddenly, in the absolute darkness of his mind, Bucky is brought back to reality. He is not surprised, for without knowing, he has been expecting you to come.
You close the door behind you as he stands up on his elbows—wondering why are you such a stubborn, blind, obtuse woman—why are you here?
Your scent carries across the room and paralyzes him with longing.
“Stay away, why did you fucking follow me?”
You stop in shock at the words he utters—they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless.
He is vulnerable, slightly paranoid. Although his voice is broken by uncertainty and his hands seem to doubt the existence of things—he tries to appear composed.
You can feel his eyes traveling up your whole body, staying on your side for a split second before moving up to meet your gaze.
“James, we don’t have another choice, we don’t have time”
You can't blame him—he is scared, scared and frozen, afraid of what he can do to you...the old primitive urge for sex. It's getting harder to control it with every passing minute—every second is lived with terrible intensity. It all flows over you with a screaming ache of pain—as you see him, the need grows even faster...and all you can do is remember and feel—the effects of the pollen—like a disease of the blood, dispersing throughout the body.
He looks like a bundle of past recollections, knotted up in a bundle of flesh.You remember what his flesh has gone through—but you also remember what he put you through that day. You feel the naked fear, the urge of self-preservation, you appear solid in front of him, but you are mimicking nothingness.
“God, I smell you. So hot and sweet”
The blank hell in the back of his mind starts to break through, spewing forth like a dark pestilence, the pollen eats away the pith of his humanity—the chaotic words pour out of his mouth as he gets up from the bed and you self-paralyze, your back hits the door—but this is the only way that will pull you both out of the plunge of—pain, need.
Your sexual attraction to him has been heightened beyond measure, as much as you try to bury it deep down in fear, the lust is getting greater than any other feeling or emotion. Every part of him is heightened to you now...his voice included.
He stops in front of you, belatedly realizing where his feet have carried him. There is no glamor, no attempt to hide it, nothing: his need taking slowly over all his senses. The unwelcomed bubble of intrusive lust, sinking into an even more heavily occluded state—you feel it too as he molds his front to yours and pins your breasts against his chest.
You are mesmerized by the tiny flecks of indigo in his blue eyes—you can drown in those eyes and it wouldn’t be the worst way to go. His beautiful features offer themselves to your gaze as you trail through them, annoyed at how attractive he looks—putting your mind into a darker cloud of irritation, waiting for him to do whatever he wants.
You feel stuffy, there is not enough air to breathe as he cages you against the door, his consciousness already vanishing and deforms itself in something primal, there is a delicious animal fire in his gaze.
“I want to taste you so desperately, it rages through me-fuck, fuck this-I want to fuck you”
His eyes are growing moist with indignation, with angry impotence, he is barely controlling himself. It is the natural sequel of an unnatural beginning— it’s hard—but not harder than his cock.
“Do it, come on” you gasp out.
“If you don’t get out of here, you know what will happen”
He explains weakly, and when you say nothing, he grabs your waist with both hands, vision already blurring. His bones fill up with foam, a languid fear, and a terrible desire.
Bucky’s control dies a slow death, shedding layers like leaves until—there will be none—he tends to be particularly rough, aggressive and possessive when given the pollen. You remember the feeling of possessiveness he had as the Winter Soldier over you, so intense it transformed into an obsession over your body.
“I'm not leaving, I need this as much as you” you say, tremulous with longing.
Bucky stares at your mouth as you speak—it looks provocative to him when you talk.
“Enough, dammit, leave”
His voice tightens, it pierces your soul—half agony, half lust.
You still have the choice of running away and finding someone else to do it, but leaving Bucky behind—you know there is not a girl in the world that can handle him, no one else has the serum, but you—your brain is ricocheting in between. It all drifts to the periphery of the mind when you meet Bucky’s eyes.
“It’s normal-” you say haltingly, your expression turns guarded.
He is livid, a sad look on his face
“We are not normal” he interrupts with a soft firmness “It’s insane to pretend we are”
You are both aware. Catastrophically aware.
“Stop talking, we’ve been through that once-”
and you look so well-equipped for this that is seems abnormal to Bucky, he is conquered by the obstinacy of you—so docile and willing to help—he wants to be emancipated for the moment from the torment of the pollen, but the guilt is still eating him.
“Do you remember the year it happened?”
"You always ask me whether I remember the stupid years, lets just-” you say with a shrug.
"It matters, it matters to me. I hate that you remember, I hate myself for what I've done to you” He explains, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear with his human hand.
"James” you whisper his name tremulously “I don’t blame you for anything”
His pain is paramount and you want it to end. His pain, his guilt. You are willing to suffer for the rest of your night so that he can take the easy way out of his needs. You admit it to yourself, without bitterness—you need to sacrifice dearly on behalf of Bucky.
“I’ll lose control” What you cannot forgive is dishonesty—you would rather know the hideously unflattering truth of his devastating visions than foul evasions “If you try to run now, I will probably chase you down anyways”
With all that waiting you have lost the strength of your legs, the firmness of your breasts, your tenderness look—barely keeping your heart intact. Maddened by that prodigious talking, you shamelessly groan, closing your eyes.
“This is bad,” you whimper “Oh God, this is bad. Please, do something”
The next critical manifestation: the unbearable pain.
“Snezinka-” (snowflake)
“Stay with me” your eyes shone “Play with me, please” like those of a cat.
In that state of hallucinated lucidity—you just can’t take it anymore. Presently the need grows stronger, hesitating then no longer. The attempts to conceal the pollen’s effects don't work anymore.
“At least…give me permission this time” Bucky shakes his head, sadness vibrating through his body as he speaks through clenched teeth.
“Yes, do whatever you want” you moan, shaking, desperate for his touch.
And then you see something possessive wash over him, making your body shiver in anticipation.
“Please, I need yo-”
You say, nodding at the soul-reaching blue crystals, not looking away from him, but Bucky doesn’t let you finish as he kisses you. His lips are warm, his body is heat and muscles against you. He kisses you like a tide, gentle at first, but with the ability to drown, his fingers digging into your waist, urging you ever-nearer to him, even when it’s physically impossible to be. Then his fingers slithers over your chest, hands immediately find your breasts and he starts to massage them for his own pleasure.
His fingers curl around the edges of your soaked blood shirt, pulling and eventually tearing it away from your skin.
There is lust and there is pain, a whirling wheel—not stopping.
He wastes no time, kissing you deeply again, already missing the feeling of your skin.
“I am yours, you know that”
A simple reply, his voice cut into you like glass, his words bleeding into your skin. It isn’t something to be argued against, it’s the truth and you acknowledge that. It’s ridiculous, absurdly sentimental to think that you managed to lay a claim on him like you did in the past.
You are trying to think of something, coming up short when he presses his hips flush against yours again, the chest harness wrinkling under the tight grip of your fists, pulling him and he hems you up against the door, grinding his cock against you. You slide one hand downwards, wrapping around his hard manhood and squeeze, Bucky moans quietly and involuntarily rolls into the contact, desperately seeking relief.
“Fuck” he says, a bit too breathlessly.
„James-this is not enough“ you undulate your hips against the aching bulge.
His name falling on his ears like that sent chills down his spine, he can hear the beat of his heart, his palms belong on your skin as he closes the gap between you. Nothing is sweeter, nothing else than you—lust is spreading like quickfire in his veins, groaning in the kiss.
“I know, I know” he whispers, a hint of exasperation and affront in his tone, leaning forwards to kiss you yet again, teasingly licking at your lips as he pulls away.
Sexual perversions mix with guilt and adrenaline as his mind sees in scattered images of varying vulgarity. Bucky grips your waist and lifts you off the ground with ease, dropping you softly on the luxurious white linen bed.
You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you watch him between your spread legs—his belt clattering noisily as he unbuckles it, popping the buttons of his jeans open, followed by the low purr of his zipper coming undone, he drifts his hands down his sides and hooks both thumbs into his jeans, sliding them and the boxers down his legs. The corners of his mouth curve upward when he notices you staring a moment too long as he removes his jacket and shirt.
You remove your own pants and then you spread your legs open, positioned right in front of his standing body—one hand toys with your breast through the bra while the fingers of the other hook in your panties and drags them down your legs fast before throwing them in his direction.
His breath stutters as he catches them with his metal arm, becoming more and more aroused with every beat of his heart that runs down his shaft. It’s becoming more painful. He starts to pump his cock, the veins bulging beneath his grip—even in his large hand, it looks intimidating, the veins in his neck tightening.
He’s quite tall with broad shoulders and an athletic physique that even his leather jacket cannot hide. Your eyes continue their upward travel to his strong square-shaped face framed with short brown hair that falls to his shoulders and deep, blue eyes.
He then craws on top of you and he cannot articulate a word, capable only of an animal sound, a strangulated wheeze that shocks him deeply, enraging him, this sudden loss of the faculty of speech that feels somehow bestial and forgotten now.
It is the impatience of the way he tears your bra from your body that really scares you: the pollen getting the better of him and you spread your legs wide, exposing your overall and the fragrance of the essences permits in the air, he smells it.
His cock nudges around your sleek mound until he gasps as he guides his sticky cockhead glides through your delicate folds. He doesn’t say anything as he slips inside you, burying himself to the hilt.
Sex with you this time is different, he has never felt this dominant, this claiming, this selfish. He is so far in that his balls are right against your pussy lips.
His greedy lips are once again on your skin, devouring everything he can—licking, sucking, and kissing, not holding back his throaty moans. He drags his lips up your throat, along your jaw, back toward your mouth. His lips are usually gentle and loving, promising long days and summer forever—but they soon turn sharp, peppermint, winter.
Animal logic. Prey. Predator… teeth dragging against your neck, living marks. The primal lust, the sheer need to claim you, quickly finding ways to express his sacred hunger to you in animal passion. He snarls out gluttonous groans against your skin as you clench and seize, pounding you harder as your body contracts. Pleasure breaks out like a wildfire, reaching around your temples; shooting up and down your spine.
You're perfect when you're underneath him, it's where you belong, beautiful face and pretty wide eyes locked onto his powder-blue orbits—curves cushioning him, your obedient body lush, muscular, but still feminine, your eyes flashing—and all he wants is to ruin you.
It's a sinful sight each time he buries the length of his cock all the way inside you, shaft slick and wet and glistening when he pulls it out. You make the prettiest noises when he shoves in deep only to pull out and slam himself back inside, you've got the prettiest expression as he grips your legs and folds them up to fuck his dick into you even harder than before.
“Don’t stop, don’t, please”
There is something raw and pleading in your voice that surpasses sexual desire, these fleeting moments of carnal craving.
He continues to trail his lips down the front of your throat and you realize that he is mouthing words against your skin “Mine. Mine. Mine”
“You feel so good every time, snezinka” he murmurs at your ear as slide to your throat and he tightens his grip on both sides on your neck, reducing the blood and oxygen to the brain. When he loosens, the rush of blood and oxygen to the brain results in an explosion of dopamine, followed by a shamelessly loud moan from your lips “I think that I love you”
“We’re drugged. That’s why,” you gaspe “Did you forget?”
Bucky acknowledges your words, they sink into him—he focuses his attention on your skin. He nibbles at your earlobe, loving the sharp intake of your breath, skin breaks out into a pale sweat and your eyes fill with tears. His trusts are ruthless.
“There is no pleasure as good as the feel of your pretty cunt wrapped around me” a dark edge creeps into his tone.
He says as he fills out pounds you, drawing a muffled scream from your throat as he starts to thrust more rapidly, setting a demanding rhythm.
Something strange starts to rage inside him, hearing you inhale sharply as he continues to kiss and bite your neck, leaving bruises deliberately and as he fucks you deeper, wanting to mark you in an entirely different way—he wants to breed you.
And you know you will wear the bruises of Bucky’s hands as you wear the scars of Soldat.
All extremes of the pollen are allied with madness, finally consuming his brain and body.
“You are so beautiful”
He says into your skin, tears welling, confused, mingling in his throat. Old wounds never truly heal, your past will never fully heal anyways. That one tear, that tiny, salty, droplet of moisture is a means of expression—joy, and torment. Although it's just a small tear, it is the heaviest thing in the world. And it doesn't do a damn thing to fix anything in this situation.
“James-” your whole body exhaled a lugubrious lament, your heart breaks for him.
His eyes are always soulful, in some way; they seem to say things that you know he's probably never say out loud.
“I know baby, I know,” he nibbles on the side of your neck “You are so beautiful, I am sorry-so sorry, I can’t stop” his growls erupt from his chest, the primal noise flooding your senses, making your insides clench around his length “I need this, I need you”
You’re powerless…utterly at his mercy and that’s what makes you cum—his voice sends shudders through your body, reacting in all the right ways to the words. The orgasm has gutted your vocal chords, and all you manage is a small gasp, tears slipping down the old salty trails as he doesn’t stop, his head lulling on your shoulder.
He leans down, nose brushing against yours as he pants, thrusts never faltering, his mouth hangs open with bliss, his cock plunging into you with skin-slapping speed and he finally reaches his orgasm, cock spurting a thick dollop of cum with each throb. He closes his eyes, because of the volcanic eruptions of fever still goes through his body—his orgasm is long, raw, reaching all his body senses.
Sex is unthinkable without roughness tonight—he is already thinking about his second orgasm—should he just cum in your mouth when he makes you fall to your knees… or if he should take you by the hair before he’s finished and fuck you into a sobbing heap before blowing his load. Of the few times Soldat has face fucked you—gagging you to near vomiting—you’ve never miss a drop of cum. He remembers it.
His hand closes around your throat and the grip tightens, slowly cutting into your skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. Your head is spinning, ears are ringing—suddenly, without warning, he withdraws completely, leaving you coughing and gasping for air. As you try to catch your breath, you feel him get up from the bed which urges you to come back to your senses faster.
In his temporary madness, an idea comes to his mind.
In seconds, he is back on top and when your vision finally clears—his lusty orbs descend to your cheeks, detailing your skin before leaning in to lick off your tears—some form of mercy which you don’t need.
He is now in that state of fire that excites you. You want to be burnt.
His eyes drift leisurely back up to your face and he smiles, nova-flare eyes blazing into your own—you look for love hiding in his eyes, in his face, and you find nothing but possessiveness.
But something is not right.
His eyes are cold and dark.And your heart stops.
He is taking you over. Staking a claim.
He slowly thrusts his hips forward, his cock pressing into your front, earning a squeal from you as he ruts back and forth dragging his length across your opening and then slowly plunges into you. You exhale, trembling as you feel the tip pressing against your opening and penetrating you. He is mesmerized by the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you, filling you up to the brim.
Bucky brings both of your wrists above your head and grips them in his metal arm, restraining you from moving them—and you tremble like a downy rabbit caught in the clutches of a wolf—he seizes you as boldly as Soldat used to capture his favorite prey—you—in the past.
A flash blinds you for a moment and you see him holding his phone—this feels surreal—leaving you breathless with an inexpressible delight of it. Bucky’s inner voice of lust speaks, it is so spontaneous and unannounced. Your mind searches for the logical thought of his action.
“Fuck, I can cum just by looking at it” He musters his primest tone, throwing the device to the side.
You whimper as your abdomen contracted painfully around his hard length at his words. He lets his fingers release your hands as his cold digits swipes back the hair from your face. Cursing, he grips the back of your neck and brings your lips to his while the metal ones grip your hip so tightly you are sure he’d leave a bruise. You whimper as he starts to fuck you, slamming you into the matress.
The usual warmth of his hands is not there. They chill your skin as they hold you close to his body, and you realize he is scared. The extreme joy mixes with the bone-crushing grief—what if you don’t want to be around him after this night? What if you condemn him, consider it with high and unjust resentment and leave him? It pierces his soul, but he can’t stop—he is half agony, half animal...the past beats inside like a second heart now.
Your soft fingers trail his face and continue to attempt a connection that he refuses to acknowledge at first—the past slips and vanishes like sand between the warm touch of your fingers, acquiring material weight, only in its recollection, because the more shared past there is in any relationship, the more present you need to be for each other.
“Let go," you whisper and he loosens the grips—he is ashamed of holding you so tightly "No, not of me," you say smiling.
You look right into his eyes, right into him as far as you can see, because you want him to hear you, you want him to hear you with everything you say—and his chest tightens as if some euphoric drug has gone straight to his nervous system—but it is not the pollen, it is you—reassuring him, leaving a psychic imprint in his mind.
It’s both a blessing and a curse to share the same trauma. And even though you are sometimes harsh, restless and despairing—he is your weak spot, you love him in your own way.
"You can hold on to me as long as you want. Let go of the past, let go of the pain" you say, giving him permission, taking him into your flesh, a clear invitation to madness.
Emotions clamp down on his heart, but he stays terribly silent. Bucky says nothing after that, only your name, as if your name is not a name but a question. He shakes his head and kisses you, long and quiet.
He grabs your jaw in one hand forcing you to look at him, tears coursing down your cheeks as he thrusts into you, making low, growling noises in his throat—a predator purring with pleasure while it devours its prey, picking up a brutal pace once again. Your legs tighten around his waist, hooking over his hip bones as he practically folds you in half, nails digging into his back, surely breaking his skin with your manicured fingers.
He groans at the pain and removes your hands, intertwines his fingers with yours, pins your wrists flat to the mattress on either side of your head. He holds himself up over your body as he fucks into you, supporting his weight on his forearms. His cock is slamming into you, balls bouncing against your clit just right, the sight of his well-muscled body, covered in a thin layer of sweat, invites you to utter depravity, it is what drives you over the edge.
“You look so good taking all of me” he pants against your throat “I will fill you again-so good”
Hard, long, deep trust that forces moans out of both of you.
You whimper and nod dumbly, screw your eyes tight as another wave of pleasure spread throughout your body in orgasmic tingles as he pulls his own climax with you. He presses his face against your neck as his hips lose any and all sense of tempo and when he finally stills, he holds himself deep inside as he leans back—with every breath, your bust heaves, sweat droplets running between them and attracting his gaze.
It pollutes his mind even more, it cripples his morality, because he is infatuated with fucking you like this again—is it the pollen at this point?
''Bear with me'' He murmurs, gritting his teeth ''I need…more” his cock slowly sliding out of your tight pussy before sliding back inside with equal slowness, sliding through copious amounts of thin lubrication and cum. Your legs wrap around his waist and prevent him from pulling out even if he wants to—your understanding, your willingness is a kind of ecstasy to him.
The blue moons in his eyes are glimmering with an emotion you can’t put your finger on. What is he thinking about?
A part of him cares about you.
But there’s a depravity in his mind right now that enjoys seeing you like this—your hair is in disarray, several tendrils scattered across your face and constricting your view of him, sweat pricks at your hairline and down your back. There is something unmistakably exultant in turning you into a mess—such a mess of cum and tears. Gently, he brushes the tendrils out of your face, tenderness in his touch—that’s the part of him that cares.
“I need you on the floor, on all fours” —that's the part of him that's deprived tonight.
You can feel the desire. The thirst. The absolute beast threatening to tear from his skin.
Soldat loved to fuck you against solid ground. He never truly left, sometimes Bucky is on the verge of cracking and showing the color of the thing beneath, but you don’t mind, you are not scared, you never were.
All he wants is for you to be filled, marked, bruised from staying up all night, taking his cock into your body until you are depleted of all your strength. Even then, he will fuck you. He doesn’t say more, but he groans as he gets up—what a sinful twist of his lips, watching you slowly get up, your legs are incapable of supporting your weight much longer.
Your cunt hurts, too—you feel his cum dripping down your thighs, making yourself position in doggy style, legs winched apart, everything exposed to his view and he goes to stand on knees behind you, eagerly holding up his cock then he lines up your hole. He twists your hair around his fist and yanks your head back, at the same time thrusting into you from behind as his fingers slide to dig into your ass.
Bucky grunts as he slams into you “Я без ума от тебя” (I'm mad about you) his balls slapping against the sensitive nub. You choke on your words, this angle allowing him in far deeper than before. You arch your back more and dig your nails into the floor, clawing at the dirty ground as he relentlessly pounds into you. Sweat drips down his neck as he watches himself entering and exiting you.
He grips your hips tightly, slamming into your snatch with ferocity. A wave of pleasure suddenly overwhelms you, and the tingling is growing stronger once more.
“Я предан тебе…ты моя девочка”(im devoted to you)...(You are my girl)
You can only mewl and gasp as you are rocked back and forth on your knees, losing your breath every time his cock hammers into your cunt. You clench around him when you hear your full name spoken in his gravelly tenor.
He molds his front to your back, spearing through your tightening pussy. He grabs your hair and snaps your head back roughly before it travels down around your throat and squeezes tight while his other palm splays across your stomach.
His lips rests on the back of your shoulder, hissing
“Очевидно, что , нас чувства друк к други” (You can’t deny what's between us)
He carries on rutting you like an animal. Your skin slapping together, your pussy squirting around his cock as it invades your snatch repeatedly, making suction squelching noises with every thrust in of his length. It keeps on hitting your cervix, your nubile breasts swing with the force of your body rocking—you know that you will be sore later.
"You fill my heart, I fill your cunt"
But his words strike every inside your body and his honesty brings the euphoria of complete surrender.
“Enough, stop, it is too much”
You plea and nearly asphyxiate on the words as your orgasm bursts upwards from your abused cunt. A sob wracks your throat and he continues thrusting, riding your orgasm until your entire body is convulsing and you are desperately trying to wiggle out of Bucky’s arms with the last of your strength, but it's not enough compared to the strength of his arms holding your hips with renewed vigor, determined to breed you.
You catch sight of him from your peripheral vision, his eyes closed, his lips are silent, but he chatters with his fingertips, with the way his hands grip your hips, fingers digging in, the way he fucks you. And you thought that he chose that position, because he was embarrassed, but he was not—he wanted to disguise from you how much he was enjoying himself.
You have the strength to kill him, but here you are—so obedient.
His little submissive.
His expression is dreamy, floating. Soaked in pleasure—breathless, possessed, lost in the volcanic eruptions of fever, lust and delight. Your pussy cradles around his dick as he pounds into you from behind.
“James”
His name on your lips sooth a place deep inside him, and the urgent need to hear it in again pulses in his heart, making himself guilty of such a secret, he must perforce hold it—
—but he shamelessly let out a loud moan, he never felt so out of control. You are a disease worse than the pollen itself.
“Bucky”
That makes him groan like an animal, noises coming out of him that you never heard before, he was never this vocal. The groans are desperate, endless, but the sound of his name is unspeakably erotic to him. He can’t get enough of this. He will die without it, without you.
“You look too pretty when you’re getting fucked like that” he blurts out, without even thinking.
There is already a fissure in his mind and madness just rushes through. Praising him puts him on edge, it’s something he never thought he wanted or needed. You wreak havoc on his life.
He squeezes his eyes shut—to utilize the entire spectrum of the other senses, moans of ecstasy crescendos and his breaths come in short instances, each with a slight pause in between as his body is rack with his orgasm, cum is flooding out of your cunt, dripping of you onto the hardwood floor and there is a charm about it that makes it unspeakably desirable for Bucky.
In this stillness, he finally finds serenity.
All you want to do is crawl back beneath the mound blankets—he gently picks you up and you smile crookedly at him, something about your smile loosening a knot in his chest, because holding you in his arms is more natural to him than his own heartbeat.
Morning came in through the blinds cutting everything into ribbons, but the light can make the most vulgar things tolerable—you are aware of the aching hips, and your whole body hurts like hell as if you have been run over by a train.
Bucky steps out of the bathroom, freshly showered with a white towel around his lean hips. He takes a half step toward the bed, and his jaw works for a moment before he asks
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired, did you tell Sam what happened?”
“No, of course not. He is thankful that you helped us” He says and rakes his fingers through his damp hair, making it stand on end “He invited us to Louisiana”
You barely resists smiling at him “Okay”
He raises a brow “Just like that, okay?”
“If you give me my bracelet back”
You both look at the bracelet around his right hand. Then he bites his lip as he grins.
“Not happening” he says, his tone flattening and he can't help the smirk that tips up the corners of his mouth.
“Guess I need to buy a new one then” You peel back the covers, indicating for him to get in and you watch him climb next to you “With your name on it”
His palm reaches up to wrap around the back of your head, his fingers tangling in the depths of your hair, pulling you closer, his lips hovering over yours. Everything about him pleases you.
Not just his looks, but his patience and his kindness. He is an obsession waiting to happen. Kissing him is terrifying, breathing the same air makes your knees weak, a liquid sensation swooping throughout your stomach—but you've been betrayed, stabbed by every single person in your life, the body heals, but it injures the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime. You are scared of love, scared of these new feelings, scared of trusting anyone, but you are trying—that’s why you gently press a kiss to his mouth.
(Her kisses are deliberate and polished. When she kisses me—she doesn't want me. She has me and knows it.)
Bucky throws himself onto the couch next to Sam, slewing his eyes over to him.
"So you are sleeping and living together, but you are still not in a relationship?"
He takes a long sip of his drink when he hears the words, tips his head back against the couch, and decides he could…maybe live with that.
"Yeah"
Sam’s lips tighten to suppress a smile "That's a bit weird, Buck"
He chuckles, low under his breath "The part where I live with my ex-coworker or the part where we sleep together?"
James takes a deep breath, and Sam can see his blue eyes searching for his, like he is looking for an answer.
”Maybe it is what it's meant to be for now” A frown settles on Bucky’s face as he considers that “She has a lot to experience, too. If you pressure her with anything, you might lose her completely”
“I don't want to be in love, but she is making me, Sam” he sighs, a headache blooming right between his eyes. He rubs at the spot, stalling as he tries to figure out what he wants to say “But you are right, she needs to heal”
Several emotions swirl in Sam’s eyes. Worry, sadness, maybe even intrigue. But not judgment. Never. “Did she agree to go to Wakanda?”
He wets his dry lips and says the most basic truth:
“No, she is too untrustworthy, I can’t believe she even agreed to come here”
Sam sees it as hope—and he wants to put that light within his friend, too “But she did”
They can’t talk about it anymore, not when they hear you, Sarah and the kids coming back, and when your gazes meet, your soft smile and the look in your eyes, they are the best interpreter of your mind—you are truly happy, seeing you like that makes him feel like he can single-handedly vanquish an army.
He has outlasted all family, desires, dreams, his grief alone is left entire—sometimes visiting the lonely desolation of nightmares, they are gleamings of his empty heart—Bucky is a heap of ashes, but meeting you—kindled him back into fire.
Oh my goshhh thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed this project!
More of this ex!Asset AU? - MASTERLIST
#IT IS DONE#kinktober 2023#kinktober bucky#fic with art#do not repost#bucky x ex!asset reader#bucky smut#smut#bucky barnes smut#smut fic#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky imagine#marvel x you#x reader#smut writing#fanfiction
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Everything's Fine
As you try to deal with everything that has been thrown at you so early into your journey: forced leadership, mindflayer tadpoles and taking on everybody's personal problems, it all just gets a bit too much for you.
(Takes place during Act 1)
Word Count - 3.5k
Also available to read here on AO3!
Enjoy!
xxx
You felt your patience starting to wear incredibly thin when you realised Astarion had been staring at you for over five minutes now.
Not directly, he would never be so conspicuous—at least, not intentionally— but you kept catching those fleeting glances he was throwing your way; the corners of his red eyes crinkling every so often before returning to whatever book he was pretending to read. It wasn’t one of those charming, smouldering gazes he would sometimes give you after a night of feeding, asking if you were alright, knowing full-well that your answer was a resounding ‘I’m fine’, and that you would provide for him again soon.
No, what he was doing right now—very carefully—was scanning you, studying you, judging you. It was as if he was trying to leer right through to your very soul.
You almost had half a mind to stomp over to his tent and demand what his problem was, but there were other unfortunate issues to contend with.
Namely Shadowheart and Lae'zel.
“I already told you that the artefact is my responsibility,” Shadowheart said, her aloof demeanour and confident tone betrayed by the hand hovering over the hilt of her dagger. “This way it will protect us all, I thought we had already established that!”
“We have established nothing,” Lae’zel hissed back. “We only agreed not to slit each other’s throats in the night, though...,” she grimaced. “I still have no reason to trust that you will not try again.”
“At least there’s still some sense in that bullish head of yours.”
“Tsk!” Lae’zel spat at Shadowheart’s feet, much to the latter’s disgust as she recoiled back. “However, the matter still stands that the relic you hold onto belongs to my people. Therefore, it should be in my possession!”
The cleric sneered. “I would sooner slit my own throat.”
“Then go right ahead. Nobody will stop you.”
Rubbing at your temples to try and ease the incoming migraine that, for once, was not caused by the mindflayer parasite living rent-free in your head, you decided to step in-between the two women, not really caring about risking a gutting from their trigger-happy blades.
“C’mon, we’re not seriously having this fight again?” You huff incredulously, the question already sounding stupid as soon as it left your mouth. Because of course they were having this fight again. They had it yesterday, and the day before that, and they were probably going to have it tomorrow as well.
“We are, as it happens,” Shadowheart replied, her eyes flickering briefly to you before narrowing forward again. “Because this savage bitch won’t leave me alone!”
Lae’zel bared her teeth in a cruel grin. “Better to be that than a revrykal of Shar.”
At the mention of her Goddess’s name, Shadowheart practically lunged herself towards Lae’zel with an enraged scream, her dagger raised high with the intention of plunging it straight into the githyanki’s chest, who in turn raised her shield to protect herself. In that moment, you were nothing to them but a speck of dust in the wind.
It wasn’t until your hand shot up in a blind panic when Shadowheart realised what she was doing, forcing her to suddenly pull back to avoid injuring you, only a moment too late as her knife slashed the palm of your hand. Blood sprayed across the ground as your short but pained cry echoed throughout the camp.
“Oh Gods...” Shadowheart muttered as everyone was suddenly on their feet and crowded around the three of you in a matter of moments. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t... mean to...!”
“What? Attempt to kill our leader in cold blood?” Lae’zel muttered as she took your trembling hand to examine it, you only stared ahead as the shock took a moment to wear off. You didn’t even register her uncharacteristically gentle touch as she turned your palm up. “Only a flesh wound, you will live.”
“Still,” Astarion piped up from behind. “Perhaps it would be best to get that dressed up lest you attract any...*ahem* unsavoury visitors.”
“It would seem we already have,” Lae’zel replied, to which the vampire put a hand up to his chest in mock offence.
“Lae’zel, you depreciate me,” he pouted. “I’m hurt.”
Astarion’s sudden cold grasp on your wrist startled you as he decided to examine the cut himself in a much less gentle manner than Lae’zel. “Not that I would be able to get much from this anyway, even if I tried.”
You were slightly worried that he was pondering the idea the longer he stared at the wound; you could practically see him drooling. It wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he snapped out of his daze.
“Well, we should probably get this cleaned up anyhow,” he finally said. “To avoid infection and whatnot.”
“...You’re not gonna lick it clean, are you?” Karlach asked with a grimace.
“Of course not!” Astarion bit back, much more flustered this time. “I’m not some savage beast, you know.”
“That’s... debatable,” Gale piped in.
“Well! It’s lovely to know that you all think so little of me; the feeling is very much mutual,” Astarion said with a fake smile before taking you by the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I’ll have to nurse this poor wounded soul, as well as my pride.”
He started guiding you away from the rest of the group, you only allowed him to because the whole situation had you in a bit of a daze, but not before Shadowheart tried to get in another “I’m... I’m sorry.”
“It’s... I’m fine,” you replied with whatever level of composure you could muster up with a smile in a small attempt to reassure her before allowing yourself to be led towards Astarion’s tent. Your words seemed to satisfy her as Shadowheart returned a sorrowful but grateful nod, though her expression turned sour when Karlach stepped between her and Lae’zel.
“Alright now, ladies, what do you two say we let out our pent-up aggression towards each other in a healthier and less murder-y way, huh?” The tiefling suggested before holding up her finger to not let the other two get a word in edgewise. “And before you ask, I will not be taking no for an answer.”
A small smile graced your lips at Karlach’s enthusiastic yet surprisingly pragmatic way of taking charge, and it seemed to be working as Shadowheart and—to your utter astonishment—Lae’zel agreed to whatever training regimen she had in store for them.
‘Perhaps Karlach should take over as leader...’
The idea was extinguished as soon as it had entered your mind, replaced with thoughts of the tiefling messing everything up, of her killing you in your sleep, that you shouldn’t trust her to lead your party. The only one who should have any authority over these subordinates is you. Only you are worthy.
The voice quieted down after a few moments, leaving you only with a pounding head—just another one of the many wonderful side-effects of the parasite.
You didn’t take any heed of whatever thoughts the tadpole forced upon you. You knew that Karlach would never hurt you, or any of the others for that matter—not by choice, anyway. However, those flashes of betrayal and blood were starting to wear you down a bit, especially with the lack of sleep; the very notion of it had been non-existent since you escaped the nautiloid and accepted the leadership that everyone had practically forced upon you.
You weren’t exactly a natural-born leader; hell, you barely managed to keep yourself alive never mind a whole group of people.
“That’s going to need stitches,” Astarion said as he observed your hand more closely now that the two of you were in the privacy of his tent. Heat flushed around your cheeks at how close the two of you were. Flashes of that night you had shared a bed—or well, the forest floor—came to mind, and you hated how flustered it made you. It was a one-night stand, a bit of fun to ease the stress of adventuring; clearly it meant nothing. At least... that was what you were made to feel.
What had been a night of passion for you, had been the same old dance for him.
“Take a seat there,” Astarion’s said, his voice cutting through your thoughts like a knife. “I should have a needle around here, somewhere.”
“You know how to sew?” You asked, settling down on a cushioned stool.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said, and a sting of guilt surged in your chest. “How do you think I’ve kept these clothes looking so good for over two hundred years? Certainly not by magic.”
“Why not just buy new clothes?”
Your prodding seemed to hit a nerve as he paused for a moment.
“Why waste the coin?” He finally replied, sounding a little dejected.
“Sorry,” you said, biting your lip as you tried to think of a way to quickly rectify your carelessness. “You do look great, by the way—y-your clothes, I mean,” embarrassment takes over as you trip over your own words. “The gold embroidery is um *cough * it’s nice.”
Astarion seems amused at your inability to grasp basic English as he chuckles, the sound deep and almost musical. “Why thank you, darling. I’m glad someone around here appreciates the finer details.”
The vampire kneels next to you and threads the needle before gesturing for you to hold out your hand. “It has been a while so... let’s just hope I’m not too rusty, hm?”
Those words don’t instil a great deal of confidence within you, but you won’t allow it to show, trusting in him to get the job done. If you ended up getting sepsis, well... Withers was always on stand-by.
“Now, hold still,” Astarion instructed. “This may sting a little.”
You nodded, only wincing a little when he made the first stitch, the pain became more bearable as you watched him focus with the kind of laser-like precision that only came with a practiced hand; it made you wonder how many times he had done this. His methodical movements almost lulled you into a sort of relaxed trance, had your mind have not been working overtime, you honestly might have fallen asleep: Gods know you could have done with a bit of shut eye.
Ever since the ship crashed, your problems just seemed to keep piling on top of each other: Lae’zel was hellbent on getting to that githyanki creche, and there was the matter of Karlach’s engine, Gale was close to blowing to kingdom-come if he didn’t get another magical item to consume soon, Astarion would probably need another feeding at some point, not to mention the dog, Scratch, and the owlbear cub who had started hanging around the camp. A dog was one thing but how much did owlbears need to eat?
It was fine, you reassured yourself. Everything would be fine.
“There we go,” Astarion said, relinquishing your hand back, freshly stitched and cleaned. The pain was still there, dull and throbbing, but it wasn’t anything a quick healing spell couldn’t fix.
“Not my best work but it will just have to do for now,” he huffs, as if he was annoyed with himself. “You’ll have to excuse the sloppy stitching, it’s... been a while.”
“It’s beautiful work,” you can’t help but admire the stitching; it was flawless. “Thank you, Astarion.”
His gaze remains on you for a moment, as if he were expecting some sort of quip or punchline, and his eyes widen slightly when he realises you’re being genuine.
“I... uh... you...?” He pauses and squints; still nothing. “You are... most certainly welcome.”
You raise an eyebrow; did he really think so lowly of you that he believed you simply weren’t capable of a simple 'thank you'? Or was it himself that he had no confidence in? Your thoughts turn to when you asked him about how he came about becoming a vampire. Astarion kept most of his history closed off from you but told you just enough to let you know that this ‘Cazador’ fellow had treated him poorly. Belittled him. Enslaved him.
You couldn’t begin to imagine how horrible it must have been; no wonder he didn’t trust anyone.
A part of you wanted to pry into his thoughts, to let him know that you were here for him should he ever want to talk, but a new figure entered the tent, startling you into closing your mouth.
“Hello!” Gale cheerily greeted with a smile, his eyes latching onto you immediately. “How are we feeling?”
“Oh, we’re feeling quite dandy, thank you,” Astarion interjected with a frown. “You didn’t think to knock before deciding just to barge in?”
“Well, given the materialistic structure of this very sound establishment, I think you’ll find it’s a little difficult to uh...” Gale trailed off, attempting to rap the tent flap to no avail. “...knock on.”
“Then why not just knock on the wooden beams with that...” The vampire waved lazily towards Gale’s staff. “Very large stick of yours.”
“Duly noted, but I think we’re getting a bit off track here,” the wizard said before turning to you. “I need a word.”
You were taken aback slightly by his bluntness, and you couldn’t help but notice the almost pained way he was wringing his hands and how his eyebrows subtly twitched. He looked incredibly... uncomfortable.
His hand hovered over his chest briefly, just above the mark that glowed whenever he consumed magic.
Shit. Was it that time already? But hadn’t you given him something only yesterday? Or had it been a few days now? With recent events, it was hard to keep track of the time anymore; day and night just meshed into one big messy blur.
Judging by your panicked look, Gale held up his hands in a placating manner. “Now, I know you’ve had a lot on your plate recently but this little uh... situation of mine is growing quite dire again so... if you could just relinquish whatever magical artefact you have, then all will be fine and dandy.”
“I... don’t have anything on me at the moment.”
Gale’s expression dropped. “Come now, you must have picked up something along the way, surely?”
You grimaced.
“In a dungeon? Along the road? What about that little goblin camp you rampaged through recently?”
His sudden passive-aggressiveness made you feel uneasy.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Astarion cut in, folding his arms. “But we were a bit preoccupied with fighting for our lives to be on the lookout for any magic boots for you to chew on.”
Gale chuckled dryly and drew the vampire a dirty look. “I don’t think you quite understand the gravity of what might very well happen if I don’t find something to contain the beast within me very soon- “
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, darling.”
“This isn’t a joking matter!”
“Ugh! Just shut up!” You snapped. “I do get it, Gale. Because you remind me Every. Damn. Day. About this big, scary, mystery catastrophe that might happen without actually explaining anything about it! A bit of context would go a long way!”
Gale’s hurt wince suddenly had your stomach churning in guilt; you shouldn’t be snapping at people; you were better than that.
“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologised. “As soon as we’re out on the road again, I’ll make it our priority to look for an artefact for you, alright? You have my word.”
Astarion scowled and Gale forced a smile; his lips too strained for it to be genuine. It seemed like you couldn’t please anyone today.
“That’s all I can ask for, and I promise... all will be revealed soon, otherwise the tadpoles will be the least of our worries.”
When Gale left, you plopped down to the ground and took ragged breaths to calm your nerves, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of hurt as you nestled your injured hand in your lap. Had Gale only checked in on you so he could ask you for a magic item in return? Was he really that desperate? He must have been, seeing as you had completely forgotten about his predicament.
What kind of leader were you?
“You know, you can’t go making promises all willy-nilly like that,” Astarion said. “We have enough problems as it is without having to worry about...”
His chastising faded into white noise as you grasped your head, the sting of your fingers curling and tugging through unkempt hair was just enough to distract from the pounding that came from within your brain. The ability to focus was suddenly lost to you as your heart raced, and dark emotions swirled within your chest like a wild tornado; it was tempting to let them sweep you away, to ride the waves into the unknown. To be anywhere but here without anyone depending on you for so, so much.
“Hello?” Astarion drawled. “Are you even listening to- Darling...?”
He moved closer to you; his steps measured and deliberate as he lowered himself down next to you, still allowing you enough space while being close enough to reach out a hand to your trembling shoulder, his touch cold yet oddly comforting.
“Hey,” he spoke in a soothing, soft tone, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with unwavering support. “I’m right here with you, you’re safe, just breathe along with me, alright?”
You nodded, albeit shakily, and tried to mirror his calm, measured breaths, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, attempting to regain control over your racing heart.
Astarion’s voice never wavered as your frantic gasps slowly started to synchronise with his calm breathing. “I know things are tough right now, but these feelings will soon pass. You’re stronger than you think, darling.”
He continued to gently rub your back, tracing comforting circles with his fingertips, a rhythm that matched the cadence of your breath. Your hands slowly unlatched from your hair as you felt Astarion’s reassuring presence and honeyed words grounding you.
“There we go, you’re regaining control,” he encouraged softly. “Now, I’m going to get you a glass of water, will you be alright for a moment?”
You nodded again, and with a quick squeeze of your shoulder, he left. As your panic attack started to ebb, your breathing evened and your heart slowed as you felt yourself returning to the present moment, the tension that had your body rigid starting to ease.
Astarion was back by your side within moments, gently pushing a glass into your hand and helping you lift it to your lips for a small sip of water, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat.
“How do you feel?”
“I’m-”
“And don’t you dare say ‘I’m fine’,” he scowled. "Because we both know you’re clearly not.”
You racked your brain to try and find a way to explain that you were okay and that this was just a small moment of weakness, a blip in the road, that there was nothing to worry about and you had it all figured out.
But the words never came, instead you draw your knees up and hug them close to your chest as if to hide away from his piercing gaze.
Astarion lingers by your side for a moment, his expression unreadable.
“Would you like to stay in here for a while?”
Unable to find the energy to speak, you simply nod.
“Then come on, scooch over.”
As you shuffle slightly to the side, Astarion sits down next to you, draping an arm over your shoulder and allowing you to settle your head into his side and cling to his shirt in a way that a child might cling to their mother.
“...I’m sorry."
From the corner of your eye, you could see Astarion’s expression soften as he waved a nonchalant hand. “Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for, dear. If anything, I should be the one apologising, who knew being in my mere presence would be so breathtaking?”
You managed a small chuckle at that.
“But in all seriousness,” he continued. “I know a thing or two about putting on a façade and... well...,” he paused. “Just... know that if you ever want to talk, I’m all pointy ears.”
You hum in acknowledgement, though you can tell by his undertone that he’s being disingenuous, kindness wasn’t exactly his forte after all, but you appreciated the attempt all the same. But you were just content to sit in his arms for a while, and he seemed pleased enough with the silence. So, for now, you inhale the comforting aroma of bergamot, rosemary and brandy, letting yourself get lost in his comforting presence.
And exhale.
xxx
Hellooooo Baldur's Gate 3 has me in a chokehold and the brainrot is real. I'm only in Act 1 hence why this fic takes place so early in the game but this idea wouldn't leave me alone so here we are. Apologies for any inconsistencies :'3
Let me know what y'all think!
*Edit - since this has been pretty well received, I've opened up requests! Pop me an ask if you would like one :)
#astarion x reader#astarion x mc#astarion x tav#astarion bg3#baldurs gate 3#my writing#tw panic attack
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
PEACE OF HEART
pair : Yoongi x reader (f.)
word count : 6.7k+
genre : arrange marriage (a healthy type), they're just exploring married life...., smut, fluff
warnings : depression, anxiety, fingering, orgasms, protected intercourse, dirty thoughts, (tell me if there's anything else)
As the plane finally takes off after a delay of more than an hour, Yoongi sighs in relief. He looks at you, who sits beside him, his beautiful wife. Everytime he looks at you he can't stop appreciating how beautiful you are.
You smile at him a bit then take your book out from your bag. Yoongi watches you trying hard to ignore his presence and focus on the ink on paper.
He wants to talk to you and thinks of different ways for how to initiate a conversation with you without disturbing. At last he decides on one and executes it. Coughs loudly and grabs your attention. You keep your book down and pass him the water bottle. He thanks you and you rub his back gently.
"You alright?" You ask and he nods.
"I downloaded that movie you were talking about" he says looking at you.
"Oh.. past lives?" You ask and he nods.
"Should I put it on?" He asks.
"Can I read for like just five minutes more? I'm at a very crucial part of the story..." you ask picking your book up again, unable to resist the urge to know what happens next.
"Sure" Yoongi says trying to read what you were reading. He really did want to read the same books as you and the ones you love and get to know you better.
You and Yoongi got married three days ago.
You both had known each other for three years now. You both were introduced to each other by your parents, talked often through texts. And soon realised you both weren't seeing anyone so you gave it a shot and went out on a date.
Your sister accidentally revealed the secret to your parents and they kept bugging you for two years to get married. After much deliberation and discussion, you both realised that you did like each other, your visions and goals aligned and hence, the possibility of a successful marriage seemed quite appealing.
You both weren't very dating oriented people, didn't like to fuck around or have relationships which would have no future. Instead you both had an unconventional idea of it all, that you'd meet someone like-minded, take things from there. Even marriage wasn't something you had dreamt a lot about. Although it did feel nice to walk down the aisle, and when you look in his eyes you have a feeling you are with the right person.
And when he looks at you, you know that he's falling for you and you... you have already fallen for him for a long time now.
There's a trust that you have on him, a bond of security which you know he won't violate. You both gave the honeymoon a chance to bring you two closer.
You finally opened up your mind after many pep talks by your sister who is married with two kids and trying for another, and firmly decided that you will not try to close yourself around him and try to be secretive.
Your sister got married with a man she'd known for only a year yet she was living a peaceful, mostly happy life with him.
You'd decided if things happen you won't try to unnecessarily resist and let them just flow.
You notice how he's trying to keep his hand in a position where it can lead to you touching his. To make things a little bit easier, you keep it on the center handrest between your two seats. After a minute, his hand rests beside yours. His elbow rubs on yours. He touches your hand with his pinky finger. Slowly his hand inches farther and covers yours completely.
You struggle to fight from blushing too hard, it only gets harder with the butterflies that flutter inside your tummy.
You intertwine your fingers with his. He audibly giggles for a second in excitement but then he tries to suppress it and looks here and there.
"Yoongi" you call him. "Look at me" you ask and he slowly turns his face towards you.
"Are you happy? If anything bothers you... we can talk" he says then brings his other hand towards your face and tucks your hair behind your ear. Finds that the earrings he had gifted you adorn your earlobes.
It was awkward on your wedding night. Your sister brought you two to your room before most people left and he was quite drunk, you were too so you two just slept. Him on the floor with a blanket laid beneath him and you on the bed. You would've argued about the arrangement but were too tired and drunk to do.
"No Yoon this is nice... really nice" you let him know your thoughts, no false pretensions in front of him.
He smiles before he picks your tangled fingers up and kisses your knuckles.
"I agree" he tells you with a smile.
"Wanna put on the film now?" You question and he brings the iPad out from his backpack. You both put on your headphones and play the movie.
The film breaks you, yet heals you in a way. You feel like if you were meant to find Yoongi too, you just feel that way about him that you two were meant to be. You were bound to somehow end up with him. In your eyes he was your perfect guy, your Mr. Right. Maybe he did have his flaws but you knew he was more than just his flaws.
You both mustn't have been in crazy kind of love yet you two knew that you were if not perfect but right for each other. It was in each other that you two finally found someone who understood.
At the end of the movie you received your food package. He ate your pickle for you, you eat his salad for him and that's how you know you two are perfect for each other.
When you wake from your nap, head cozily rested on Yoongi's shoulder you find that you were about to reach your destination in an hour.
You let Yoongi sleep for a little more as he was still in deep slumber. Get the chance to catch up with your reading again.
He likes how when he opens his eyes, the face he looks at is yours. The scent he sniffs beside him is yours.
"We're going to reach soon. You wanna freshen up?" You tell him. He looks around, there was still some time left to go to the restroom and he quickly left.
He comes back in a few minutes and you both watch the landscape outside as the plane starts to go downwards and the islands come in your sight.
"I'm so excited to spend the next five days here" he says, "with you" he quickly adds.
"Me too" you tell him touching his cheek.
The driver takes you both to your hotel after you pick up your luggage. The hotel was a bit far from the sea but it had a beautiful view from the room you both were given. It was quiet and surrounded by nature and small houses as opposed to the city view with skyscrapers that you two were used to.
The apartment that you two had shifted in gave a full view of the city from it's glass pane walls. Your living room especially and the way you had arranged your sofa set gave you the chance to relax while watching the world go on.
You wanted to not think about work, or home right now and allow yourself to completely immerse in the calmness of the island you were currently on.
You watch Yoongi help the housekeeper bring in your luggage and keeps it near the bed. He closes the door behind you then sits on the bed.
"You need anything?" He asks as he wipes off the sweat from his face.
"Nah I'm good. You?" You ask him instead. If he can take care of your needs, you can take care of his too.
"I'm so fucking tired... it wasn't that long a flight... my thirties are hitting me hard I guess..." he chuckles and you do too.
"We need to get a proper meal and then you'll be good. I'm sure" you say, he giggles.
"You wanna take a nap or go out?" He asks. He pulls his jeans down without any second thought. You know that he feels comfortable around you, you're his wife and he has no shame in front of you. Still you look away even though he's not fully naked.
He wears more comfy trousers and a matching t-shirt with it.
"Let's go out. We can always sleep later" you say. You open your shared suitcase and take a dress out from it. You had it all planned out which dress to wear on which day and the whole itinerary was already decided too.
Yoongi waits for you when you change in the bathroom. You put on some lotion on your hands and some lipbalm too... just in case things happen...
You somehow get how Yoongi feels towards you when you look in his eyes. His intentions are pretty straightforward. He does have expectations out of your marriage. He wants companionship and intimacy that should be present in a marriage.
You feel grateful for the full body treatment that your sister gifted you which included a full body wax, polishing and what not. Although you know Yoongi would love you no matter what.
It's not that you don't have the same expectations out of him. You aren't as blunt as him in your approach towards him, you get shy and hesitate a bit.
You love him.
He's your brightest star on a new moon night. He's your sunshine that appears after dark, gloomy, cloudy days which don't seem to go away.
You never knew if you were ever going to find love. If there was someone who would like you, understand you and somebody in whom you would find the qualities you looked for in a man. Yoongi was that guy for you.
He doesn't even knows how he's helping you heal your heart. Seven years ago you were in a situationship which lasted too long and left you so broken you didn't have it in yourself to look for love again.
And then your path crossed with Yoongi's. And now you both walked hand in hand on the same path together.
You walk closely with Yoongi when a guy working with the hotel tells you both to check the pool out. They had just completed cleaning it and with the current weather it would be a fun experience to hang out there.
He takes you towards the pool, hand in hand you like being like this him. With every passing second you just feel yourself getting closer to him.
But when you two reach there you look at yourself and then look around. Most people present were in swimsuits and you two were covered with t-shirts and jeans.
"It's too tempting... everyone seems to be having so much fun" he says with a hand on his waist as he looks around at couples and friends playing around in the water. Another excuse to just get closer to you.
"There are changing rooms over there. Should I just grab a pair of clothes from the room?" You ask him. Have always liked water too much to be able to resist.
"You wait here I'll go..." he quickly turns around.
"Hey no... you said you were tired. Just tell me what you need" you insist and he gives in.
"Blue shorts. Towel." He tells you and you smile at him before leaving with the key card.
Rummaging through the luggage you find his towel but not the shorts. You look under the shirts but the only thing you find is two boxes of condoms and a bottle of lubricant. It makes you gasp and smirk at the same time. He came prepared.
The topic of contraception had once come up between the two of you not about what you would personally use but more so as how it's usually considered a woman's duty than a mutual concern. And how most forms of hormonal birth control have side effects and how you once developed a nasty rash after taking the pill to delay your period for your sister's wedding.
The topic of kids had been discussed well in advance. You both wanted kids but maybe after some time, right now you had to focus on more important things.
You just keep the things where they were placed before and try to find the shorts that you found in between the shirts. You take a bralette and a pair of shorts for yourself. Wonder if Yoongi will like it, you're kinda sure that most of the men and their minds work the same.
You find Yoongi sitting on a bench waiting for you to come. He walks upto you when he sees you.
You both change when you step out his gaze does change but you see how he's trying to be respectful.
He goes inside the pool first then holds your hand and helps you come in although you insist you're fine.
"You know I learnt how to swim when I was like 4 so you needn't worry about me" you assure him and he smiles.
You show him that you do remember what you learnt by swimming around. He joins you and you both go to another corner and come back.
You talk about the weather and the food and some silly memories from your swimming lessons and have a good laugh.
You look around trying to capture everything with your eyes, remember it all. Your eyes see something disgusting and you immediately turn towards him and hold his arm.
"Hey... what happened" he gets flustered at your sudden change of expression.
"That man in the red boxers... he just touched himself looking at me, like he was smiling at me in such a creepy way... god" you sigh trying to get the sight out of your head.
"I'm gonna fucking break all of his teeth" Yoongi tries to walk upto the man and confront him but you stop him.
"We're in a foreign country I don't want you to get in trouble because of me... our honeymoon's just started..." you hold him while he fumes with anger.
"I don't care.." he says.
"Yoongi... kiss me" you say.
"What?" He's taken aback by your request.
"Nobody will dare look at me then" before you complete speaking his lips are on yours.
Although it happened all of a sudden yet you feel the urge to deepen it. His hold on you grows tighter. You keep a hand on his cheek.
He smiles in between the kiss, you do too. It wasn't exactly your first kiss, you had kissed him once a couple years ago after a really romantic date when he dropped you off near your house.
This felt different. Now you actually have feelings for him, stronger than before. And the way he's kissing you, it tells you he has too.
"We can't get out of the pool without doing this..." you get away from him and splash water at him.
He pretends to be angry which makes you back off but he splashes water at you too, giggling. You try to get away but he's quick to catch you.
Your back hits his chest when he holds you from behind. His bare chest.
"You can't run away anymore" he whispers in your ear. Your stomach growls audibly.
"Let's get out and grab something to eat" you know you can't deny now that he knows you're hungry.
When you two eat, he holds your hand when you keep it on the table. Your legs touch under the table. You crave to touch him more but you are very aware of where you are sitting.
"Yoongi..." you take his name in a gentle tone.
"Hmm?" He hums in response while chewing.
"Do you think it's possible to love someone without knowing everything about them?" You ask, presenting your dilemma to him.
"Maybe. And we can't really know anyone like 100%. There's always some parts unknown to us. We can only know what they tell us and trust them that they're telling us the truth. I don't think it's necessary..." he tells you. You see the glint of hope in his eyes wondering if it's him that you love.
He takes your doubts away with his words. You were skeptical if what you thought was right. Maybe you didn't know everything about him but maybe you knew just enough to be able to love him. You wonder if he loves you too.
When he's not looking at his food mostly his eyes stay focused on you. He's absolutely mesmerised with you.
It was about to be time for the sun to set. You decide to go to the beach and witness it together, the meeting of the sun and the sea over the horizon.
It makes you giddy how he refuses to walk without your hand in his. A simple act yet it makes you feel so close to him.
You walk barefeet with him along the shore. The sea washes your feet again and again. Yoongi keeps his arm draped over your shoulders while you keep yours on his back. People look at you and smile. Old people reminisce the days of their lost youth. Young people envy how you two are so undeniably, deeply in love. People want to be in the place you're in.
As the sun comes down to meet the sea, so do Yoongi's lips to meet yours. You smile as he kisses you. You were at a fairly empty and quiet spot, just the two of you.
He makes you sit down and wraps his arm around your shoulder, you rest your head on his chest as you two watch the most beautiful sunset, more beautiful with your life partner by your side.
You pick his hand, the one resting on his knee. You caress his knuckles. Even his hands are a work of art. And you get to hold them.
You look up at him as he watches the sunset then looks at you and grins. You press your lips near his and whisper "I love you Yoongi"
His eyes sparkle when you tell him those words. The words you'd been contemplating about for so long and finally had the confidence and courage to tell him.
He touches his lips on your forehead and says the same thing. "I love you too baby" he tells you. You feel goosebumps run in your body, your heart rate speeds up, you have the widest smile on your lips. It feels surreal to you yet feels like you've known it for so long.
His hand rests really close to your ass as you two walk back to your room and you oddly find it familiar. It helps that you have trust in him, that's just the way you are, you don't get to a physical level with anyone you can't trust with your life. He is the one. The one you love, you trust, you respect. Your husband.
When you reach the room, you can sense the impatience in him as much as it exists in you. He quickly puts in the card and you are quicker to get inside and lock the door behind you.
You remove your sandals and he follows you removing his shoes. He walks towards the mini fridge under the television. He takes a bottle of whiskey out.
"Want this?" He shoots the question towards you.
"Yep" you purse your lips.
You know he's just hesitant to make the first move. He's just worried if you would think he's desperate or impatient. He wants you to be ready as you both weren't physically intimate in anyway before.
Although you know it doesn't has to necessarily be that way, people have sex with people they might've met not even two hours ago. It just doesn't seems to work that way for you. But now that you know him, you have feelings for him a part of you wants it. To be intimate with him, close with him, have a connection with him which you've never had with anyone else nor do you want to have with anybody other than him.
In this moment, its just him that occupies your mind. You don't worry about your problems, your endless work, your upcoming exam for a promotion at work.
Most of the times you're overwhelmed with unnecessary worries and what ifs. What if your marriage doesn't works out, what if your husband isn't happy with you, what if you lose your job suddenly, what if you become prey of some financial scam, what if your husband loses his job, what if you can't have a kid, what if even if you have one you can't be a good mother or be unable to provide them the best education and opportunities. And what not. The list is endless.
But with Yoongi by your side, you feel a little bit of that pressure being lifted off from your shoulders. You know together you'll both figure it all out somehow.
You sit on the edge of the bed where Yoongi brings you the glass of alcohol and sits beside you. You sit closer to him and run your hands through his hair.
He kisses you and slowly slides his tongue in, you both taste like whiskey. You like the way he tastes, the way he feels, the way he smells, his musty cologne, his shiny hair.
You both can't resist things from heating up. His hand slides down your back and rests on your hips before he pushes you closer towards himself. Your thumb runs on his neck. You feel how his breaths get heavy, so do yours. You're panting as you're getting aroused.
Eventually you straddle him. He keeps pulling you closer no matter how much you are. But then he pulls away...
"Hey..." you look at him with a grave look. "If you don't want me to do any thing you can tell me. Don't feel like you're obligated to me because I'm your husband. I know how your mind works sometimes..." he caresses your hair while he speaks.
"Yoongi I told you what I feel... my love is not like platonic. This is kinda natural don't you think..."
"I just want to be your safe place. I want to be where you find peace. You give me that and I wanna give you that too. Look there were many things that led me to my decision of marrying you. When I'm with you... I've never felt this way before... I will love you till the end of this life but I want you to love yourself equally... growing up i saw my mother and aunts losing themselves in devotion to their husband and families. I don't want that for you... it's natural to have some expectations. But I'll never expect you to put me before yourself." You focus on him, your whole attention placed on him. You respect the way he gives importance to communication.
"Give yourself an hour each day. I'll give myself time too. Even if we have just an hour, let's just divide it and give half to ourselves and half to each other." You nod smiling at him.
"Thank you for choosing me Yoongi. I know that you had even better prospects. I wasn't your parent's first choice for you. But I'm glad that I found you and that I chose you..." you put kisses on his face. "I love you" You tell him before kissing him.
You pull apart for a few seconds just to say, "And I want it... like all of it"
"What do you mean?" He asks.
"You know what I mean" you say.
"Okay" he gives your ass a little squeeze pulling you towards himself to let you know how fucking hard he is. You're surprised too by how aroused you'd made him without even doing anything.
"Just a little thing I should let you know.. umm" you hesitate a bit. He looks at you concerned.
"This is my first time" you bite your lower lip. You have no idea what he must think, virginity at your age wasn't exactly usual.
"Okay" he says. "I'll keep that in mind. We can take it slow and easy. Don't worry" you smile at him before you cover his face with kisses. He giggles.
He pulls the strap down from your shoulders as he plants kisses on your neck. You know with the way he's sucking, he's gonna leave marks. You don't mind it. The matching rings on your fingers are enough to indicate who has done that to you.
You feel his hard on pressing against your thigh and grind on it a little as he goes down kissing your cleavage.
You'd been skeptical about how you would feel in this moment but now you know it isn't something you'd trade with anything else. You love the feeling, the way pleasure builds up inside you, the way wetness pools between your thighs.
You can't control and moan when he cups your breast. You try to find something to hold onto. You want to have direct contact with his skin too.
Hence, you unbutton his shirt. He removes it and gives you access to his bare chest. He tugs on your dress wishing for it to not be there. You part from him to remove it, get rid of your bra too.
He can't control himself when he looks at your bare breasts. He gets you to lie on the bed and cups your breast before wrapping his mouth around it. You moan loudly as his tongue flicks your nipple. His thumb circles on the other.
Your clit throbs igniting an urgent desire in you to touch yourself or be touched there.
Yoongi takes his time with your tits. He palms himself for a second before he grabs both your breasts and rubs your nipples with the thumbs. His mouth alternates in between them both. Has you arching your back and moaning so loud and you still have your underwear on.
It's not long before he pulls his jeans down and comes to the bed just in his boxers which leave you in surprise over how big he is. You just want to pull them down and suck him off. It looks fucking painful for him yet he manages.
"You wanna remove what's left together?" He asks, trying to find every possible way he can keep things easy for you. You nod.
He stands up from his place but his eyes stay on your body. You rub yourself a little from above your panties.
"I used to think we would wait for a couple months before doing this... I was so wrong I can't control how much I want you Yoon... I just can't" you say as you pull your panties down exposing your wet, messy pussy to him. You throw them on the floor, he does the same with his boxers.
You see his cock, hard and absolutely ready to fuck you, be buried inside you. You wonder how it would feel to touch it, have it in your mouth, in your pussy maybe even your ass someday... how it would look spilling, shooting sperm all over you. How gorgeous Yoongi might look as he comes, writhes with pleasure lying underneath you.
He gets the same dirty thoughts about your pussy. Wonders about the scent of it, the taste of it, how it would feel around his cock, how pretty it would look filled with his cock, his sperm, as it orgasms, if it can squirt. How tight, and wet and warm it must be. How quickly he might nut once he's inside it. He feels like he's going to come just by looking at it.
You touch your clit to tease him. He feels a rush of blood in his body as he watches you, your finger slowly stroking your clitoris.
Your moans echo in his ears. What he wouldn't give up to keep hearing them.
He joins you on the bed above you. His mouth meet yours again and this time he's much more passionate. His hand reaches between your thighs.
"Is this okay?" He asks and you hum in response.
He keeps rubbing your clit the way you were doing it.
"Yoongi... faster" you request and he obeys instantly.
"You know.. it might be better if I finger you first..." he hates to interrupt how much pleasure you were in. Still he asks first.
"Do it" you say, already close to an orgasm.
He covers his fingers in your juices before the tips of his fingers reach your entrance. He taps around before he slowly begins to insert his finger inside your cunt.
"And don't you dare to try faking it in front of me... okay?" He says faking an intimating voice.
He tries to find your g-spot after he has given you a few pumps. His fingers stroke against walls but he fails to find the exact spot again and again.
"Help me" he says.
"How?" You ask just to tease him.
"Where does it feels good?" He presses on a spot which makes you feel like you wanna pee and that's how you know he found it. You mostly just do clitoral when you're masturbating so it's mysterious to you too.
"Do you masturbate?" He asks out of nowhere.
"Why do you ask?" You enquire before answering.
"It helps one know their bodies better and what they like" he says.
"I did but mostly just external..." you tell him.
"There?" He asks when you moan and you nod as he presses the rough patch.
You grow wetter and wetter and it gets easier for him to finger you. You see his cock all engorged and leaking precum. So you move your hand down and wrap your hand around his shaft. Circle your thumb on the tip. He pants harder as you continue. His finger moves faster. But you wanna be coming around his cock.
"Yoongi... condom please" you say leaving hold of him and he pulls his fingers out too.
He stands up and walks to the suitcase. You watch his bare, sculpted back as he walks naked around the room, not ignoring his hard cock slapping against his stomach. He takes one box out and brings it to you. Also the bottle of lube.
"I've heard it helps women if they're on top the first time" he says waiting for your response before taking his position.
"Let's try then" you say before you sit up. He lies down beside you and you straddle him with a smirk.
You open the box of condoms and take one out while he keeps massaging your breasts. You rip the wrapper and hand it to him. You want to try putting it on him but you don't know if you would do it the correct way. And you need it to be used properly as that's your only option of protection right now.
You gently caress his balls while he rolls the condom on his dick. You pick up the lubricant and pour some on your palm.
"Uhh... Yoongi" you ask if you can do it. And he gives you an expression of assurance.
You're both grown ups, married, who cares how many times you fuck and in what ways and at what time. You have no reason to delay if you are both ready.
You spread the liquid all over his length, massaging him. Inside you are a bit worried how long and thick he is and if it'll hurt you too much. But you know that it's Yoongi and he would never mind if you fail to do it the first few times... you could always suck him off and finish in other ways.
"Okay then..." you take a deep breath as you shift to sit above him. You rub your pussy on his dick for a bit but then notice him twitching and the look on his face tells you he's having a hard time controlling himself.
He keeps his hands on your waist and stares at your cunt glisten with juices. He cups you and rubs you before you hold him to slide on him. He holds himself while you watch his cock slowly get inside you.
Both your gazes are stuck at one place. Your bodies connecting. You shift a little and take more of him inside you. He keeps his hands on your breasts, a thumb pressed on your clit to have you distracted from any pain.
You wince as you feel your pussy stretching like you've never been stretched before. His cock throbs inside you, trapped within your tight walls. He's using everything in him to not just fuck you hard. No matter how much he wants to, he would never do that while you're certainly in pain.
"Aah fuck..." you cry out as you take him in completely. It feels good yet it hurts. He's big. He's thick.
"Oh god Yoongi..." you try to move but it hurts to do.
"We can stop." he says.
"Yoongi it'll hurt again... I wanna be done with the pain right now... Once I come I dint think it'd really matter" you tell him. You're not backing off just because of the pain. You know it's just the matter of a first couple times and then you'll both have fun.
You lean down to kiss him.
"Make yourself cum right here" he whispers in a sexy tone.
You sit up and circle your finger on your clit. Yoongi spreads your pussy lips for you. The direct touch on your clit makes you flinch but it also brings an intense sensation to you. You increase the pace how your finger moves.
Yoongi circles your nipples before his thumbs come back to where they were. Your orgasm builds inside you, threatening to take control of your body. And you lose it... you come hard.. your whole body trembles, you start to bounce on his cock riding your high. The way your walls clench around him almost make him come. It was already hard for him regardless.
He moans as your movements don't cease. But the overstimulation doesn't helps.
"Let's switch positions" you tell Yoongi and he's quick in the way he rolls you over and takes his position above you. His cock slides you as you two move, there's a funny sound but you two don't even care.
He pumps himself a couple times before his tip meets your hole again. He pushes himself inside your tight cunt. He slips in easily with how you had loosened after the orgasm and all the lube and wetness help him too.
Luckily, the pain had been replaced with unbearable pleasure. Pleasure of such intensity that makes you want to scream. You feel thankful that it went away so quickly.
His fingers tangle with yours. You hold him tightly before he pulls them away. He kisses your neck, your breasts, your chest.
Yoongi builds a rhythm of how his cock again and again disappears into your pussy. He wanted to kiss it, lick it so badly. Make it come all over his tongue. The thoughts go away as all his attention moves towards his cock which twitches, his balls tighten. His tip keeps rubbing on your g-spot but it's irregular. You know he can't feel it with the condom on.
Another curiosity builds up inside you about how he would feel without a condom. You start to think about when your period is due and figure out the date when you could go raw.
You stroke your clit trying to chase the second orgasm that's building up inside you. You know he doesn't minds, even enjoyed watching you touch yourself.
His pace increases and so does yours. You squeeze his ass as he moans and gasps with how close he is. "Cumming... cumming!" He declares as his thrusts stop and his body shakes. You know he is ejaculating as you feel his cock pulsing, throbbing. You wonder how it would feel to have him come inside you, fill you up.
His orgasm is intense indicated with the way he struggles to move afterwards and remove the condom which he kinda hates at this moment. All he wants to do is hug you, hold you.
As soon as he's done, he quickly lies beside you. You run a hand through his hair, he kisses your neck, your shoulder. His hand reaches between your thighs, even in the daze of his own high he hasn't forgotten that you didn't finish. You spread your legs for him. Spread your labia like he'd done for you.
He lazily rubs you, then puts two of his fingers inside, with how aroused you were your g-spot was easier to find and after a few minutes you orgasm again. Throwing your head back, arching your back, squeezing your breast, holding his hand, moaning his name. You come because of him.
Tell him how much you love him and he tells you he loves you more.
Feeling absolutely fucked out, you two don't even look at the clock and close your eyes, just lying in each other's embrace. You keep a hand over his abdomen.
The only person you ever held like this in bed was your mother until you were five and slept in your own bed.
You feel an unmatched safety in his embrace. You know from now onwards you won't be alone when life hits you hard. On days you feel more depressed, which used to be so hard to get through all alone. He's gonna hold you and you're gonna hold him. And you can tell him anything and he can too.
Adjusting into your new life was made easy with Yoongi's love. He never tried to get away from doing half of the chores.
Soon you both figured out a routine that suited you. One for the weekdays when you both worked. One for the weekends when you both stayed home.
You got to know each other's friends. Got to know each other better than ever.
He knew exactly how to cheer you up when you felt depressed. And you knew all the ways to help him cope with stress.
You two were imperfect in your own ways but together you were better.
You grew to love the life you had each day.
Mornings spent listening to the news and drinking coffee with him, running late than showering together.
You had days of the week divided with tasks, who would cook breakfast, pack lunch, do laundry, cook dinner, do dishes, clean.
You spent weekends messing around with him in the kitchen and cooking and cleaning. And when you two ended up in bed you always somehow lost track of time.
If the days were spent quiet and peacefully, then you and your husband would go wild in the night, confined in your room alone but not alone.
And where three months went away you just don't understand. Scrolling on your phone at pictures of you two from the last quarter, your smile doesn't seems to fade.
You stand in front of your sleeping husband. He doesn't knows how his peace is about to be disrupted. You should've known something would come your way with how smooth sailing your life had been for a while. You had deluded yourself into thinking maybe your fate had changed for better.
How foolish of you to think your life could ever go smoothly.
You sit down beside him and run your fingers through his hair. He complains wishing to not wake early on a weekend.
"Yoongi" you call him and he immediately knows from your tone that it's urgent.
"Come here" he tries to pull you above him thinking it must be something silly you're worried about again. And you know how he loves morning sex and waits for the weekends to be able to do that peacefully.
You hold his hand and keep sitting up. He tucks your hair behind your ear.
"I don't know how you're gonna feel about this..." you take a deep breath and hold his hand, he holds it tighter.
You open your closed fist and he averts his gaze away from your face.
"I'm pregnant Yoongi"
#yoongi x you#yoongi x reader#yoongi smut#min yoongi#yoongi#bts yoongi#min yoongi x reader#min suga#yoongi min#bts smut#bts fanfic#yoongi oneshot#smut#fluff#arranged marriage
557 notes
·
View notes
Text
#there for you
—when they walk in on someone else being mean to you
CHARACTERS. Albedo, Ayato, Childe, Cyno, Diluc, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Zhongli; gn! Reader
THEMES. hurt/comfort; angst to fluff?; some might’ve been unintentional crack, honestly
WARNINGS. may have themes of verbal and emotional ab*se; them being protective; scara showing his authority; toxic family in ayato’s part
NOTES. this is a request from an anon and it got pushed back a lot of times, so glad i got to post it now finally hahah
┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
ZHONGLI knew the wicked ways of both mortals and gods—all the good things and the bad things that had happened throughout the millennia, he had seen them all. With this in mind, this is nothing new, actually, such a situation unfolding like this in front of him is not out of the ordinary at all. And yet…
“What is the meaning behind this?”
When he came right next to you, everyone stopped talking, holding their breath as a heavy pressure fell upon the air almost too suddenly—or maybe it had been a while since the pressure had been like this but they only noticed it when someone else joins in, which is what happened—but in reality, they did not see what is coming upon them, nor had they realized that the pressure his presence held came from an identity they did knew but do not see in him.
“Ah, Mr. Zhongli, you see-“
“My words are not directed to you, Mr. Zhang.” His voice was firm, and so was his gaze, but as they turned to you, relief washed over you almost instantly. “Darling, would you care to explain the situation to me?”
No matter what other people say, he would listen to you. He knows you more and trusts you all the same. As much, as he could see the way you tried to hold yourself up, he couldn’t handle also seeing you stress over something that someone else caused you out of just a very simple thing—and after confirming things through, he’ll do his best to solve it—of course, mostly in your favor.
At the end of it all, he will be taking you out for fresh air and making sure you were feeling better after such a stressful experience.
┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
XIAO had been through a lot of pain. For him, this suffering is meant for him, something that he thinks that no one else should experience but him—as he very much deserved it—this kind of pain… he can handle them all.
And you—especially you—are one of those who he did not wish to bring up the same kind of pain he had experienced. No matter what.
Xiao is a natural protector, and it is why it took all of him to control himself. His fists were balled tight and his eyes pierced through everyone in the area. He stood tall, right in front of you, between you and the person that was still glaring right at you.
“Walk off, human.” He sneers. Just as he was about to call his weapon, he could feel your hand on his wrist, your touch waking him up from the momentary blur he felt. Despite still feeling tensed, he instinctively takes your hand to his and holds it tight—yet not too much, just enough to make you feel assured that he was there—and he’s there for you.
┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
VENTI is the embodiment of freedom and was the hope of people from then, and even until now, they praise his name in the midst of their success and pray in the midst of their suffering. He can hear them all, even if it can sometimes be overwhelming, it is something he had been used to as he had lived long enough to endure it.
When he heard your voice tremble with the mention of his name, he knew, and he was there in an instant that it surprised the people how fast it had gotten for him to rush your way.
“Venti!”
“Y/n!”
Far too many times, he was the one rushing to your arms, but at times that it was you, he just knew that there is indeed something wrong.
“Why? What is happening, love?” He hadn’t even realized that there are other people with the two of you until you looked away and he felt their presence all of a sudden, looking around and meeting their judgemental eyes.
“You’ve hung around this bard for far too long, Y/n, his way had gotten to you, huh?”
Venti rarely gets mad—like mad mad, he really doesn’t—you’ve never seen him. Yet today, not even putting the pieces altogether before reacting, a flame grew inside of him that he had never intensely felt before—maybe he did, well, he certainly did, but it was all so foreign and he just… erupts.
“Excuse me, I don’t think you should be doing this.”
“Hm? And what business do you even have here, bard? Who are you to interfere?”
You could see your boyfriend bite his lip, you could almost feel the suppression of his anger that you had to wrap your hand on his wrist, yet he doesn’t back down.
“If you knew who I am, you wouldn’t even be standing in front of me at this very moment.” You should be kneeling.
The thought scared him—how he could just break at any moment and all of that is because of you.
Then he forces out a grin—you could tell it was fake though—“I’m Y/n’s boyfriend. Of course, it’ll be my business as well.”
┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
THOMA always knows what to do when there are disputes—it’s his job! Of course, he can handle them! But wait… isn’t that… you?
“What is happening here?” He came without any other hesitation, making sure to place himself in between you and the vendor that was yelling at your face. It is very rare for people to see him mad—mostly serious, but not to the point he would be furrowing his brows and frowning his lips—and it would seem this would be one of those times.
“Love… do you want me to handle this for you?”
Whatever your answer will be, he will be by your side—if you need assistance, just send him a glance or a squeeze of his hand, he’s there. He’s very observant, so he knows very well how to respond properly and fit upon your comfort—actually, at this point of time, this will be what he will be prioritizing he will do his best to bring the situation where you’re the most comfortable or pleased with.
┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
“The nerve! You dare to do this right in front of me?!”
SCARAMOUCHE’s voice was heard all over the area, and by then, each of the Fatui members knew what that tone indicated very well. (Someone’s going to suffer that day)
He glares down at the said person and almost kicks them, only for him to feel you grab him by his arm, catching his attention for you to shake your head no to him.
“Are you telling me to spare this piece of trash when—” he cuts himself off and pauses before breathing out a heavy sigh, looking away.
He can’t just ignore you when you’re giving him that look.
“You’re lucky.” He mutters while he glares at the person who had hurt you. He then turns away and pulls you close to him, making you follow suit.
He gestures his hands towards his subordinates, to which they silently made their way to the person, bringing them away… and maybe for them to await his final judgement.
┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
KAZUHA is away for most of the time. At first, this was something that he thought would work out—even distance could not break whatever you and he have, that is something he is very much sure of. But there are times when he did not have a choice and had to leave.
And his instincts from the start were not proven wrong.
He had just arrived from his current travel to Mondstadt when you weren’t on the docks—he did send you a letter beforehand for you to be informed that he will be returning soon, were you unable to receive it? You’ve always received his letters in the past, what could’ve changed?
There was an uncertain beat in his chest as if being able to smell the faint scent of danger in the wind.
And he was right this time as well.
“I believe we must discuss this in a calm manner.”
“What do you mean? And who are you? Mind your own business!”
You tried to stop Kazuha from trying to get in between you and the vendor, but he merely looked back at you and gave you a smile, as if assuring you that everything is going to be okay.
But will it be?
As if sensing your worry, he reaches out for your hand and squeezes them gently.
┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
KAEYA had met a lot of people and observed just as much. One thing he learned from all of these is how to predict people—and this he expected, and he was glad he did before anything else had happened without him there.
“This is not how you’d like to treat others, sir.” He’d try to coax them into shifting their attention to him, and once they did, he will be rather… harsh with them.
“Oh believe me… it is my business,” he’d smirk shifting his eye to you, sending you a brief look before averting them back to the other person, attempting to intimidate him further, “you see, if you don’t know me too well, I am the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius. Seeing my own lover stuck in an unfortunate and unfair situation like this…” he shrugs, “it bothers me quite a lot.”
┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
ITTO does not tolerate any sort of unfairness, not for those who he even does not know well, but more so when it comes to his own loved ones—especially you.
Although even if he does try to defend you, in the end, you’ll be left worrying for him because he might be the one ending up in jail because he’s being loud and looking like he’s instigating a fight. If the Tenryou Commission sees you like this…
“Hun! I don’t understand!” He whines, “Why in the world are we running right now?”
“Because!” You heaved out a frustrated groan, “the moment the Tenryou Commission hears that you’re causing a scene, who knows what will happen! Just trust me, okay?!”
It was exhausting running like that but… well, he did defend you from that man that tried to instigate you were in the wrong earlier, so you might as well just reward him with cuddles later.
But maybe after getting away from Narukami Island in the meantime.
┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
HEIZOU is good at sensing something before anything ever happens. But this. This happens so suddenly, almost like a blink of an eye, and it took him by surprise.
“Hey you! Y/n’s in trouble, you should go and check it out.”
Those were Kujou Sara’s words and when he heard them, he could see the worry in her eyes, and how she wanted him to judge the situation himself.
He was… conflicted.
Of course, he would be biased over you. Just seeing you being shouted at by someone else makes his blood boil and want to hurry and charge the other person with anything.
But of course… he has to keep it cool.
“I see… so that is the case…” he nods and keeps the slyness in his voice, but he was making sure that he was in between you and the other person, keeping up a front before momentarily sending a wink your way.
And maybe he can charge them with... something that would not let them out of jail any time soon.
┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
GOROU was quite taken aback. For one, he had never expected that there would be anyone complaining about you, all the more, he does not know what to do, especially when it comes to you.
“From how I’ve known Y/n, this is not what they’re like-“
“General Gorou! Aren’t you supposed to judge us fairly? How can you judge us fairly when they are your lover!”
He bites at his lower lip, chewing them as he ponders. And worries.
“Ah! You guys! How could you say that to the general! For all we know, you’re the ones being unfair to the general’s lover!” The other soldiers began to join in, “And besides, Y/n is known for being kind and sweet, the general wouldn’t have fallen for them if they are bad! Clearly, you’re the ones that are lying!”
“How did you even know? We didn’t even know you were acquainted with the general’s lover!” Says the other side.
Gorou would’ve silenced everyone else, but he stiffens when someone else adds on;
“Well, the general often gushes about their kindness and sweetness, let’s not distrust the general like that!”
It wasn’t enough that almost all the soldiers knew about his “gushing” towards his own lover… but you had to hear it too as you were standing right in front of him.
And as if you weren’t just in the middle of a difficult situation, you send him a look, one that had him looking away in embarrassment.
Ah, he is definitely gushing over you right now.
┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
DILUC is quite protective, of the people of Mondstadt and of course of those who are a part of his “family”—which includes his employees in Angel’s share and you, of course.
“Have you no shame? This is not the right place for you to quarrel about these things.”
“What business do you have–Mr. Ragnvindr?!”
Diluc raises a brow and continues to do so as the other person tried to explain his side and acted as if he was the one on the right, “This… Y/n over here-”
“Stop right there,” his glare intensifies—how dare this man to speak your name in such a harsh manner? If only he could burn this man even for a little— “I will not tolerate any lies that are spoken about my significant other. I’ll personally investigate about this and if I ever find you at fault in any way,” he pauses, his eyes gleaming, “I’ll hand you over to the Knights of Favonius myself. Or would you prefer in front of monsters in the middle of the wild?”
┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
CYNO has never been in a situation like this before—maybe a few times, but not to the point that he got emotionally invested in it which momentarily took his clear thinking away.
“What is the meaning of this? Have you lost your mind?” He glares at everyone—but really, he’s not mad at you.
“Yelling inside the akademia grounds. This is not the right place and tme for you to be shameless.>:
Ah, you think, he is definitely mad.
Yet why is he making his way over you? Is he perhaps mad at you?
He tugs you over to his side and you could only watch as he proceeds to nag at them, scolding them with his arms crossed over his chest and looking down at them.
Maybe… he isn’t mad at you.
He definitely isn’t.
┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
CHILDE is highly protective of his family. And of course, that includes you.
“I believe we can discuss this calmly, don’t you think… sir?” he tried to use his charm first—of course, he couldn’t start a fight when everyone is here to witness his every move.
But of course, his patience is not that big either, especially when it comes to you. How dare this guy to bully you like this? Isn’t it understandable if he begins to show his anger at this point?
Well, reputations be damned.
“Actually, why don’t we talk about this… privately?” he flashes a sweet smile—but you recognized it in an instant.
He’s definitely not leaning into the other person and whispering something next to his ear, only for the other to flash a horrified look—what did Childe say?
Well, you’re not even curious at this point…
┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
AYATO was raised in a good family, one that he continues to uphold even to his work—his surname is his work, and that was enough to describe him as a Yashiro Commissioner.
“Stop what you are doing right this instant.”
“Who are you to say this? They are my child.”
“But they are not a child anymore.”
You could tell that the pressure in the atmosphere was already beginning to thicken every second that passed.
“Y/n,” he turns to you, but his grim face drastically changes and molds into one with a reassuring smile, “darling, shall we go?” He offers his hand, and you were about to take it when-
“Hey, you! You can’t go! We’re not yet done talking-!”
Instinctively, you took his hand and he instantly pulls you to his side.
Anything else didn’t matter to you at this point, because with him by your side, you felt at peace and safer than the other days of your life.
┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
ALBEDO is not someone who gets “feelings” on the way of solving problems.
He definitely isn’t, but he would do anything to defend you—well, isn’t it logical to do anything for someone you love?
“Oh? You must be the genius alchemist!”
When the other person deliberately ignored you after shouting and scolding you for the longest time before he had the chance to go over to your side. Yet before he can even get the gist of what was happening, the other person starts to… try to humiliate you in front of him.
“Hm… Is that so?”
He even has the nerve to act like he was pondering over something.
“How about you, sweetheart? Do you have anything to say?” you could see the surprise in the other person’s face, most likely realizing something.
“Sweetheart…?”
“Well, it’s not like I will side with you or anything… mister…? I don’t even know your name. Pardon me.” Albedo smiles—a taunting one, you could tell.
Reblogs and comments are very appreciated~
TAGLIST (fill the form to be added/removed) (bold=cannot tag)
@softlybeloved @icecappa @sushiyay @scaraslover @beastielevi @rviden @thesatanofpizza @izayanna @stellumi @coco-goat-milk @nonniechan @m3gitsune @chuubear @kiyoobi @catisnerd @ventislatte @weakestpoint @pinkfeiry @aweebstuff @zhongchi14 @windwheel-aster @irethepotato @squiddaloo @scaramunch @cruxdou @favonius-captain @aqualesha @kazuhas-alphabet @astreankitsune @lordbugs @itsghostgirlyo @his-simp @meumorio @tkooooop @fiona782 @my-goldfish-is-not-gold @lisalanding @ezra0000 @extrakuli @kazu-topia @rayskyee @b1loop @kanattac @basicsofdying @windwheel-aster @serenenation @hadesgift @kazewhara @lilikags @solaaresque @yuremini @chichikoi @mooonluv @cloudysky0 @lunaeire @corlapisminer @hahakoharu @myrenbworks @brazilian-anon @k-a-z-u-h-a @kaeyaheart @irethepotato @disa-ster @hoshikistarlette @astrothighology @sinhasfluffyheadfur @nejibot @myaaki @kaedelove @nejibot @sarahyumiko2 @kaerui-kaisen @loyal-to-my-dilf @yaexure @random-names-stuff @yumekos-gamble @nejibot @emperatris-rinaka @starforecasts @dai-tsukki-desu @xiaogens @stygianoir @the-midnightskies @apricot-shark @genshinparty @katsumikumo @deathkat657 @bl6o6dy @aikochan4859 @q1ngx1n @scaramouchesfootstool @jaynahh @afchicken @theother-victoria @ynxalynx @ksjjkthpjm @nleedingwhiteroses222 @momoewn @mave-in @akinokisetsu @animexotaku @elianalovesu @dolfay @klawsblr @yuipersonalblog @yeonatingz @observation-subject-753 @yuuki4646 @shaneruarumonte-blog @vortxx @1one1person1 @koalaray @noragami-ghost @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @duskimoo @maya1-5-0 @csukcsuk @bleedingwhiteroses222 @jiminscarmex @ngwhiteroses222 @apric-t @kiolet-exe @kitsunekanojo @sherlyss @yuki1s--note @sunniewrites @fiannee @magica-ren @kissventii @yur1x-1 @psycho-nightrose
#genshin x reader#xiao x reader#scaramouche x reader#kazuha x reader#albedo x reader#heizou x reader#zhongli x reader#diluc x reader#kaeya x reader#childe x reader#cyno x reader#ayato x reader#gorou x reader#itto x reader#thoma x reader#venti x reader#blue's works
10K notes
·
View notes
Text
Overprotective!Yandere X GN!Reader
Women in the office gawked at Theo as he walked by, shamelessly refusing to peel their eyes from the Adonis who walked among them. With dark wavy hair that framed his beauty mark speckled face and droopy emerald eyes always set into a warm smile, he was model material, yet refused to believe it. Theo was kind to everyone he spoke to, but no one could gain his full attention, and affection. That was reserved for his one and only best friend ❤️
❤️ Theo who was Reader's best friend since kindergarten
💀 Every life path Reader took, Theo took as well. They were his best friend, he just happened to have the same interests as Reader!
❤️ Besides, he didn't go to the same college as them and got into the same company in the same sales department just because he was good at numbers like Reader... he also needed to protect them!
💀 Reader was always a hard worker, they would often forget to eat meals while working overtime and would only sleep two hours a night if Theo wasn't there to gently keep them on track
❤️ And despite everyone referring to Reader as a cynical workaholic, Theo knew deep down that they were far too trusting
💀 Remember that girl in grade four who confessed to Reader at recess? Reader turned her down far too kindly! They made her think it was actually okay to be friends! Thank goodness Theo was there to threaten the kid to stay away protect his best friend from that weirdo
❤️ People often mistook the pair of besties for a couple, and that was just ridiculous!
💀 Yeah, the idea of Reader calling Theo their husband, kissing Reader's forehead each and every night, and instead of just tucking them into bed joining them in their shared bed made his heart clench in a funny way... they were just friends!
❤️ Just friends that were also roommates. The economy is terrible right now, just because they make enough money to live alone, didn't it make more sense to live together and save money?
💀 And Theo enjoyed cooking nutritional meals for his best friend! No instant ramen for Reader while Theo's around!
❤️ No, it wasn't jealousy whenever someone started hitting on Reader, he was just worried for them!
"Don't you think Jackson's a bit... creepy?" Theo asked his buddy while prepping dinner one night. Reader glanced up from their work laptop only briefly.
"Why do you say that?"
"Ah, I don't mean to sound rude! I'm sorry.. I just overheard him saying something pretty gross about Mrs. Kim.."
Jackson had asked Reader to grab a drink with him sometime just the other day, and he seemed like a genuinely kind dude. But Reader trusted Theo with their life, and wouldn't question anything he ever said, believing their best friend was simply incapable of lying. Reader grunted and went back to work, and Theo knew by that sound his bestie wasn't going out with Jackson anytime soon.
💀 Theo who could never admit to anyone, not even himself, that his relationship with Reader wasn't a healthy "friendship"
❤️ Convincing himself that his actions were completely normal things for friends to do was almost a full time job
💀 Sometimes he watched Reader sleep, admiring how their eyelashes fluttered as they dreamt ensuring that they were actually sleeping and not sneaking onto their computer
❤️ And breaking down into full blown hysterics when Reader doesn't text him back is just because he's so worried for them
💀 Reader always saw the error in their ways though, apologizing profusely when they finally came home from grocery shopping and seeing the results of forgetting to charge their phone
❤️ It was an especially hard day when Theo had to cut off his own mother. She said Theo was codependent on Reader! Reader doesn't know this though, they just heard that Theo's mother was criticizing their friendship
Reader was stopped at the front door, Theo draping his large frame over his best friend, his large eyes watering. "Please don't leave, (Reader)."
They sighed, wriggling an arm free to mess with Theo's hair. "The fridge is almost empty, dude."
"But it's raining outside!" Theo raised is voice unintentionally as he began to panic, spiraling into an anxiety attack. "What if you get sick? Please just stay home, I can order take out. Let's go shopping tomorrow!"
"Theo.."
"Please!" A sob choked out of the man as he seemingly lost his strength, collapsing against Reader as he stained their jacket with his tears. "I just want to keep you safe!"
Reader gave in, as they always did, guilt stabbing at their heart until they could calm Theo down and convince him they weren't leaving.
Even if Reader never fell in love with Theo, the man would be content just to be by Reader's side, forever being their one and only best friend. As long as he could continue protecting them, from bad dates conspiring to ruin Reader's life, from management that continuously accepted Reader's overtime volunteering, and from Reader's own silly bad choices... Theo was happy.
#yandere x reader#yandere oc#yandere#yandere drabble#tw manipulation#not proofread#yandere best friend#platonic yandere
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Not Good Enough
Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader
Summary: You overhear Dean say some hurtful things about you to Sam and decide you need to change, much to Dean's dismay.
Warnings: cursing, mutual pining, mentions of violence, body issues/esteem issues, past trauma, illusions to eating disorders and sexual assault. SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), dom/sub vibes, dirty talk.
You didn't like to think about your life before the Winchesters. Most of the time, it was easier to pretend you didn't have a past--no dark and morbid history to share, no pain and trauma still lingering deep within you.
Sam and Dean were the only ones you'd felt comfortable opening up to, and even that took years. Life had not been kind to you, and the scars on your body and in your mind were the proof.
Eight years ago, your hellish life took a turn for the better, but only after you almost lost it. You'd been walking home after a late night filled with bad decisions, when you were attacked. The man was fast, vicious, and cruel--taking what he wanted from you and leaving you for dead.
As fate would have it, the Winchester brothers were in town hunting a nest of vampires, and had been prowling around downtown waiting for one to make an appearance.
It was Dean who heard your screams, your cries for help, your sobs. It was Dean who came running into the dark alleyway without a thought for his own well-being. It was Dean who dropped to his knees beside your beaten and broken body...who took his jacket off and draped it over you to cover your mostly exposed form. It was Dean who gently scooped you into his arms and carried you to his car...and it was Dean that stood beside your hospital bed until you opened your eyes again.
Sam had eventually tracked down the man who had attacked you. It turned out, he had attacked several other women in the downtown area over the previous few months. Dean had been surprised to discover the man was just that--a man. Not a shapeshifter, a ghoul, a demon...not a vampire or a werewolf...just a man. His status as a human did not, however, make him any more safe from your avenging savior.
You'd never asked Dean exactly what had happened to your attacker, and he'd never talked about it. All you knew was he would never hurt anyone ever again.
It was unlike Dean to trust a stranger, and certainly out of character for him to confide in one, but there was something about you that seemed to draw him in. He felt as if he'd found a kindred spirit in you, someone who could understand him in a way even his brother couldn't.
Once you were on the mend, Dean made you an offer--one you were thankful you didn't refuse. You joined the brothers on their adventures--saving people, hunting things, the whole nine yards.
Overtime, you had become an integral part of their small family unit. Either brother would have died for you and you for them. There had been more than one close call for each of you over the past eight years, and more than one monster brutally slain to protect you.
You were closer in age to Sam, only a year younger than him, but Dean had always been the one you were closer to. Just as Dean had seen a kindred spirit in you, you had seen one in him. He understood you, he respected you, and he cared about you more deeply than anyone in your life ever had.
In the long years you'd spent in their constant company, you'd begun to change. The darkness that lived inside you seemed to fade, as if being near the Winchesters brought a light into your life you didn't know you needed. The mental scars you'd carried began to heal, even if the ones on your skin would always be visible.
There were still days where the darkness would rise within you, dark thoughts rolling through your mind, bringing you to your knees with a pain you could never describe. There were days when you would look in the mirror and hate the reflection gazing back at you--seeing the girl you had once been instead of the woman you now were.
There were moments when you'd forget all the progress you'd made, mind focusing instead on all of your flaws, all of your failures. The worst part was many of them lived only in your mind--you knew no one but you could see them, but that didn't make them any less real to you.
Lately, you had been struggling with self-esteem issues you'd long since buried. You'd thought you'd come to terms with who you were and what you looked like--accepted the body you had. Weight had been a struggle for you your entire life, and for a long time, you turned to terrible habits in order to lose weight and attempt to keep it off.
Those habits had ended eight years ago, but the issues they'd covered did not. Today was one of the bad days. One of the days you stared in the mirror and hated the image you saw--the softness, the curves, the fat. That was the word that kept repeating in your mind, fat, fat, fat.
You tried desperately to block it out, to remember why you loved your body just as it was, but those thoughts wouldn't leave you alone. The darkness inside you was too much to battle, the pain of hating yourself too much to cope with.
You'd been thankful for the bunker the day the three of you had discovered it, but you were even more grateful on days like today. Days you wanted to spend holed up in your room, refusing to face the outside world.
As much as you wanted to lay in bed for the entire day, your grumbling stomach soon became too much to ignore. You knew you needed to eat--there could be no more starving yourself, no more binging and purging--you needed to eat.
You dragged yourself out of bed and tugged on a pair of sweatpants before cautiously opening your bedroom door. You listened for the sounds of either brother moving around. Upon hearing none, you made your way slowly towards the kitchen, intent on making yourself a sandwich and retreating to the safety of your room.
Just before you rounded the corner to head into the kitchen, you heard Dean's low voice rumbling from inside. You froze in place, pressing yourself against the wall, not wanting to be seen or heard. You fully intended to creep back to your room--you really did--but the sound of your name leaving Dean's lips held you in place.
"(Y/N)'s not strong enough," Dean hissed. You could tell by the tone of his voice he was angry, very angry.
"Oh come on," Sam snapped. "She's been doing this for eight years. She's more than capable."
"Are you insane? I mean, really and truly crazy? She'll get herself killed!" Dean's voice had risen in volume and you heard Sam shush him quietly.
"Don't wake her up," Sam chided.
You heard Dean's annoyed sigh and your eyes fluttered closed for a moment. You knew what they were fighting about. You and Sam had a conversation a couple days ago about you hunting on your own. You'd asked for his thoughts and Sam had been honest and supportive. He said you were more than capable of hunting on your own, should he or Dean not be available to go with you. Your hunting skills were certainly not on their level, but if the case was simple enough, you would be fine.
Clearly Dean did not agree with his brother's assessment of your abilities. "She's not strong enough, or fast enough, or physically prepared to hunt on her own. She's just not, okay? She's different from us...she's not built like we are."
"Do you even hear yourself?" Sam asked incredulously.
You bit your lip to keep from whimpering aloud, Dean's words having cut straight through you like a hot knife. You blinked back your tears as you moved as quickly as possible back to your room without making noise.
Dean's words repeated on a loop inside your head, echoing your own darkest thoughts about yourself. Even Dean thought you were too fat, too weak, too useless to do anything on your own. You realized he likely only allowed you to hunt with him because he felt sorry for you--a pitying friendship you didn't ask for.
Despite the irrationality of your thoughts, you could not escape them. You couldn't fight them off, either because you didn't have the strength or because you were afraid they were right. Your mind once again played tricks on you, dragging you down into the darkness--but this time you succumbed, allowing your own tears to drag you into a nightmare fueled sleep.
Unbeknownst to you, Sam and Dean's conversation had continued in the kitchen. Neither of them had noticed your presence, both too upset with the other to focus on anything else.
"Look, (Y/N) is my best friend. Other than you, she's my favorite person...hell, I like her more than you sometimes," Dean confessed. "I just--I don't want to lose her. If we let her go out there without backup and something happens to her, I'll never forgive myself. I'd rather her never hunt at all, but I think she'd kill me if I told her to sit out on a fight just because I'm terrified of her dying."
Sam was quiet for a moment as he regarded his brother. Dean was not known for his vulnerability, nor for sharing any of his deeper emotions, but Sam could see something simmering just beneath the surface--some emotion beyond rage and fear lurked in his brother's green eyes.
"What are you really saying, Dean?" Sam asked quietly.
Dean looked at the floor for a long moment before answering. "When we met (Y/N), I was instantly drawn to her--like a moth to flame. I don't know what it was, but I felt connected to her in a way I'd never felt before. That feeling has only grown in the past eight years and now I can't imagine living life without her. I don't want to imagine it. A world without (Y/N) in it isn't a world I want to exist in."
Sam exhaled slowly, realization crossing his features. It was rare for Dean to care for someone so deeply, but when he did, he became irrationally protective. Sam was painfully familiar with that particular side of his brother's nature. He also knew what it meant, what Dean was really saying--even if he wasn't ready to admit it.
"You should talk to (Y/N)," Sam urged. "Both about how you feel, and about why you don't want her to hunt alone."
"What do you mean, 'how I feel'?"
Sam raised his eyebrows. "You know exactly what I mean." He didn't give his brother a chance to respond. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and walked out the door, claiming a need to workout.
Dean watched Sam walk away, and a feeling of mild terror settled into his bones. He'd come very close to admitting how he really felt about you and it scared him. Hell, his feelings scared him. The fact that he was foolish enough to fall in love was bad enough, but the fact that you were the one who'd stolen his heart made it so much worse.
He'd told himself he would never fall in love, never get married, never settle down--this life wasn't conducive to any sort of domestic bliss. Part of him didn't think he deserved that kind of happiness, but the main issue was the danger of loving you so deeply. He knew the risks, knew how it would turn out--bloody, like it always did.
In his mind, the only way he could keep you safe was to pretend all he felt for you was platonic friendship. He could protect you on hunts and his guard would never be down around you, so he could protect you in every way. He'd seen how far you'd come, how strong you now were, and there was no way he would be the reason the world lost your beautiful soul.
No one could ever know the truth, not even Sam. The only way this didn't end bloody was if you never even suspected Dean loved you. No monster would be able to use his love for you against you, no monster would ever hurt you just to get to him. For you, for your safety, he was willing to break his own heart.
**********
It had been three days since you'd overheard the conversation between Sam and Dean. The first two days, you'd remained secluded in your room, claiming a migraine any time either of the boys came to check on you.
This morning, however, you'd woken up with a goal. You showered, got dressed, and made your way to the kitchen. As you were fixing yourself some breakfast, you heard someone enter the room.
"You're up early," Sam said warmly.
You turned to glance at him with a soft smile. "I wanted to get a head start on the day."
Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "You're feeling better, I take it."
You nodded. "Yeah, that headache was brutal." You felt bad for lying, but it was easier to fein a migraine than it was to admit what you'd overheard and the dark thoughts you'd been plagued with.
"Well, I'm gonna go for a run," Sam said cheerfully. "Any chance I could entice you to come with me?"
You laughed and rolled your eyes. "Not unless someone's chasing me."
He chuckled and ducked out of the kitchen, taking a bottle of water with him. Sam always asked if you wanted to join him on his morning runs, but he knew you were unlikely to ever agree. You hated running almost as much as Dean did.
You ate your breakfast quietly, contemplating your plans for the day. You had decided to start a new routine today, a routine you intended to continue until you felt better about yourself or until you could get Dean's words out of your head, whichever came first.
After breakfast, you went into the library to do some reading, intending to allow your stomach time to digest your food. You weren't sure exactly how much time had passed, but Sam had returned from his run, showered, and was now eating his breakfast at the table while scrolling through the latest news stories on his computer.
Dean, unsurprisingly, was still not awake, despite the fact that it was 10am.
You closed your book and stood up. "I'll be down in the gym if you need me," you said to Sam as you crossed the room towards the door.
"You'll--what?"
You gestured towards the hall behind you. "I'll be in the gym."
He looked perplexed, but didn't comment on your sudden desire to workout. He could tell something was a little off with you, but he had the feeling you wouldn't want to talk about it, so he decided to let it go. After all, it's not like going to the gym was something he needed to worry about--it wouldn't kill you (unlike some of your previous bad choices).
When you reached the gym, you looked around and sighed. You'd always hated working out. It was a reminder how out of shape you were and how imperfect your body was. Sure, hunting kept you relatively healthy--you had surprising stamina and endurance, but the weight just never seemed to fall off. You'd begun to feel like your fat was holding some kind of grudge against you, intent on making your life miserable for some perceived slight.
You sighed again and walked over to the treadmill in the corner. You stared at it for a few minutes, deciding whether you really wanted to use it. You'd always hated the treadmill, but you needed to start somewhere, so you hopped on and started to walk at a brisk pace.
Thirty minutes later, you switched to the stationary bike, wanting a change from the monotony of walking. Twenty minutes after that, you were bored out of your mind. You decided to try something else. Maybe lifting weights would do the trick.
About two reps in, your headphones died and you groaned in annoyance. You tugged them out of your ears and tossed them to the floor, opting instead to blast your music loudly through the bluetooth speaker Sam kept down there.
Alanis Morissette's voice now carried down the hall, but you couldn't be bothered to care. She was your go-to when you were feeling angry or upset, her music always making you feel better, especially when you scream-sang along.
After a few more reps, you decided to work on your boxing skills. Sam had taught you years ago, mostly as a way to teach you some fighting skills. You wrapped your hands to protect your knuckles, settled into your stance, and began hitting the punching bag. The release of frustration you felt was almost immediate and you realized you should have just done this from the start.
Upstairs, Dean was just returning from running an errand. He'd woken up and been distressed to find they were out of bacon and beer--his two main food groups. He'd gone to the grocery store to restock and was now happily cooking an excessive amount of bacon for his breakfast.
"You know you should eat something besides bacon, right?" Sam teased him.
"Nothing is better than bacon, Sammy. Nothing." Dean scooped the rest of the bacon onto his plate with a look of glee.
"Heart attack on a plate," Sam muttered.
"Oh shut it," Dean grumbled as he bit into his first piece. He moaned obnoxiously, causing his brother to roll his eyes dramatically. "Where's (Y/N)?" He asked, words garbled by the bacon he was still chewing.
"What?"
Dean swallowed. "Where's (Y/N)? I stopped by her room before I went out and she was gone."
"She's in the gym."
"I'm sorry, she's what?"
Sam shrugged. "She's in the gym. She went down after breakfast."
"Why?"
"I assume to work out," Sam said lightly.
Dean groaned. "Obviously, smartass, but why was she gonna work out?"
"I don't know, dude. Why don't you ask her?"
Dean looked down at his plate. "I will once I finish my bacon."
Sam rolled his eyes, but didn't comment further.
Once Dean had finished his breakfast, he made his way down to the gym, a feeling of dread settling into his stomach. He couldn't really put a finger on why, only that he didn't like the feeling.
As he neared the gym, he heard 'You Oughta Know' blasting down the hallway. He didn't hear your voice over the lyrics until he actually entered the room. He would have smiled at the sight if he wasn't so worried about you.
Your back was to him as you continued to pummel the absolute shit out of the punching bag. Dean had to admire both your form and the power you exuded. But as he watched you, that feeling of dread began to creep higher into his chest, wrapping itself around his heart.
He called out your name, but you couldn't hear him over the music. He spotted the speaker and walked over to turn it off, plunging the room into a shocking silence.
You spun around, surprised to see Dean standing beside the speaker. "I, uhh, I called your name," he muttered sheepishly.
"Oh, sorry. I was kinda in the zone."
He nodded. "Yeah, I noticed. So, uh, whatcha doin'?"
You raised an eyebrow. "Working out...as one does in a gym."
He winced, feeling like an idiot. "I know that, but what I don't know is why."
"Why what?"
"Why are you suddenly working out in the gym for two straight hours? You hate the gym."
You stared at him with an unreadable expression. Your eyes were dark and your jaw was set as you regarded him. "You can't think of any reason?"
Dean thought about it for a moment. "No...hence why I'm asking."
You gestured to your body. "Because I'm not strong enough or fast enough or physically fit enough to hunt...sound familiar?"
Dean winced, eyes widening with realization. "(Y/N), I--"
You held up your hand. "No need to apologize, Dean. I realized you were right. I am weaker than you and Sam, I am slower and heavier and fatter--I am completely less physically capable than either of you. So obviously, I need to do something about that. Hence the gym."
Dean stared at her, anger darkening his features. "None of that is true."
"Of course it is, Dean. You said it yourself. I'm just agreeing with you."
"Of course you're not the same as us, (Y/N), but that has nothing to do with your body or your weight or your ability. We're men, and large ones at that. We're physically built different than you, but that doesn't mean you need to change anything about yourself to be more like us."
"Well clearly I do, or you wouldn't have found my body so unacceptable--you wouldn't have told Sam I'm not capable of hunting on my own."
Whatever thread was keeping Dean from yelling finally snapped. "Your body isn't unacceptable! You aren't weak! There is nothing wrong with you--nothing!"
You were stunned into silence by the intensity of his words. You didn't know how to react or what to say.
Dean sighed deeply, feeling the anger drain out of him at last. "You didn't hear the rest of our conversation, did you?" His voice was barely a whisper, but you could hear the raw emotion in it.
You shook your head.
"You should have stayed...you may have learned something."
"What would I have learned?" you asked quietly.
"You would have realized that your interpretation of my words wasn't at all how I meant them. You would have heard me tell Sam how terrified I am of losing you, how that fear makes me want to keep you out of this life--away from hunting entirely. You would have seen that I love you just the way you are--that I don't want you to change a single thing about yourself. You would know that I am the problem, not you...it was never you."
"Dean..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. "You...you don't need to try and make me feel better."
He stared at you, green eyes full of fire. "I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm trying to be honest about my feelings--to make you see you the way I see you."
"Why now?"
He was taken aback by your question, and it took him several moments to respond. "You know how I feel about romantic attachments...I worry about losing the person I love most, simply because they were unlucky enough to be loved by me. The fear of losing another person I love or have them be used against me is a pain I'm not sure I can bear. But you--you deserve better than my fears. You are the light to my darkness, my reason for living. I can't stand the thought of you believing I think less of you, not when I would burn the world down to keep you safe."
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" you whispered, a glimmer of hope sparkling in your voice.
Dean took a step towards you. "If you think I'm telling you that I've been in love with you for years, that I love every single part of you inside and out, that I don't want you to change a single thing, that I think you're perfect...then yes."
You exhaled sharply, breathing ragged as you stared into his soulful green eyes.
He crossed the short distance between you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his body, not caring about the sweat staining your body.
He practically crushed you against him, holding on more tightly than you'd ever imagined he would. After several moments, he loosened his grip on you so he could gaze down into your eyes. A small, lopsided smile graced his lips and his eyes fluttered shut. As his lips grazed against yours, you sighed softly, causing him to immediately deepen the kiss.
His hands dug into your soft flesh, seemingly reveling in the feeling of your body in his arms. His kiss was everything you'd imagined it would be and so much more--you felt safe, loved, and cherished. You didn't know you could have those feelings from a single kiss, but here you were, drowning in emotion, his love the life raft saving you from darkness.
When you finally parted, Dean rested his forehead against yours. "Do you believe me, (Y/N)? Can you see how much I love you? How badly I need you?"
"Yes," you breathed. "I believe you."
He sighed happily, breath mingling with yours. "Will you let me show you?"
You pulled away from him slightly so you could see his face better.
His eyes were dark with hunger, his gaze almost predatory. If you didn't know him, you would be frightened.
"Let me show you, sweetheart," he begged softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Let me show you how much I love your body--how badly I've wanted to touch it, mark it, make it mine. Let me touch every curve, kiss every scar--bite and lick and suck every pleasure point until you're a moaning mess in my arms. Let me make love to you the way you deserve."
No man had ever spoken to you like that, and you felt your toes curl at his words. If he could spark your body alive with nothing but words, you wondered what he was capable of doing with his body.
Your breathing was labored and your voice husky as you murmured, "How could I ever say no?"
Dean smirked and he tugged you to him again, lips crashing against yours. You felt his hands all over your body, clutching any part of you he could reach. His mouth left yours, lips trailing down your neck, nipping and sucking gently against the sensitive skin. He licked the column of your throat and groaned softly, muttering "salty" in a devilishly sexy voice.
You pulled away, suddenly remembering what you'd been doing when Dean interrupted you. "Wait--I-I need to shower first."
Dean groaned in annoyance. "No you don't."
You started to peel him off you with a light chuckle. "Yes, I do. I feel gross."
He pouted adorably. "For the record, I would make love to you on the sparing mat, right here, right now."
You laughed. "As hot as that might be, I really want to shower...I'll even let you join me." You shot him a wink and ran toward the door.
He realized what you'd said and turned to run after you, chasing you all the way to the showers. You giggled when he caught you, tugging you to him to kiss at your exposed neck and shoulders.
"Shower!" you squealed.
He groaned. "Fine, fine."
He practically dragged you into the bathroom, turning away from you to turn on the water before tugging you into the shower with him.
"Dean, our clothes--"
"They'll dry," he grumbled, fingers tugging on your shirt to lift it over your head.
You allowed him to remove it, neither of you paying attention to where it landed as he tossed it out of the shower. He did the same with his own shirt and jeans, followed by your leggings.
He spun you around, so your back was pressed against the cold tile, water spraying across your chest. He unzipped your sports bra and you allowed it to fall to the ground, revealing your heavy breasts to his wanton eyes.
"Fuuuuck," he groaned, lips attaching to your pert nipple.
You ran your hands through his hair as he continued his gentle assault on your breasts. His lips didn't leave your chest, even as his hands trailed down to slowly peel off your underwear.
He slipped two fingers between your folds, collecting your slick and pressing firmly against your clit. You moaned softly at the sensation, head falling back against the tile.
He removed his fingers, slipping them between his lips and sucking them dry. "I need more," he murmured hungrily.
He dropped to his knees and grabbed your right leg, slinging it over his shoulder before you could utter a word. You started to complain that you needed to wash the sweat off first, but he ignored you, tongue sweeping between your folds without a care.
Any protests you may have had were lost as he worked his magic on your pussy. Your fingers twisted into his short hair, head back, mouth open, drowning in the pleasure he was giving you. You were thankful for the tile you leaned against and his strong arms holding you in place as he feasted on you.
Your legs began to shake and you cried out his name seconds before your orgasm hit you, sending you spiraling into bliss. Dean didn't want to stop, but your hands weakly tugged on his hair and your legs began to buckle, so he pulled himself up to keep you from falling.
"Delicious," he whispered against your mouth as he pressed another kiss to your lips.
You wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him closer to you and he shifted to press his body tightly against yours. You gasped as his still clothed member brushed against your thigh and your hands instantly slid down his body to rid him of the annoying fabric.
"Wanna touch you," you begged softly.
He groaned, but pulled away from your reach.
"Dean," you whined.
"Shh, let me wash you first," he insisted.
"But--"
He cut you off with a kiss. "Let me worship you before you touch me--I wanna make this about you."
Your expression softened and you leaned into him. "I love you, Dean."
Your voice was a low whisper, but he heard it all the same. You hadn't said the words earlier, a fact he had been trying to ignore. Hearing you say them now nearly had him throwing all his plans for the next week out the window--wanting to do nothing more than worship you from dusk to dawn for the foreseeable future.
"Dean?" you whispered warily, concern filling your eyes.
He used all his self-control to push his own needs and wants aside. "I heard you, baby," he assured you. "I heard you."
His kiss was gentler this time, sweeter even, and it warmed your body from the inside out. He broke away, panting, a whispered "I love you" pressed into your skin as he made his way down your body and back up again.
After what felt like an eternity, he grabbed the shower gel and loofa and slowly began to lather you up, washing your body in a surprisingly sensual way. When he finally decided you were clean, he helped you under the spray and made sure all the suds were rinsed off.
"Can I touch you now?" you begged.
He smiled warmly. "I suppose I can allow it." He forced his voice to be steady and calm, despite the desire screaming inside of him--begging him to take you well and properly.
You sunk to your knees, gaze lifting to meet his. You gave him a shy smile before taking his cock in your soft hands. He was larger than average, but you weren't afraid of the pain. Instead, you focused on giving him the same intense pleasure he had given you.
When you wrapped your lips around his cock, his head fell back and a groan escaped his parted lips. His fingers danced across your scalp, gathering your hair to one side so he could see you properly.
"Shit, sweetheart," he mumbled. "You're taking me so well."
You moaned around him, pleased with the praise he offered you. You continued to work him, using your tongue to caress and tease him in ways he'd never experienced before.
He wasn't at all surprised by your skill, but he was surprised by how damn good it felt. Sure, it had been a while for him, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a blow job that made his knees weak--if ever.
"Shit, baby," he whispered. "I'm so close--gonna cum for you."
His fingers raked through your wet hair and he used his other hand to lean against the tiles behind you. His hips jutted forward slightly as you relaxed your throat, taking him as far back as you could.
You flattened your tongue against his cock and flexed it, repeating the motion a few times before Dean's grip on your hair became painful and he exploded into your throat with a cry of your name.
You swallowed everything he had to give you, not releasing him from your lips until he pulled away, forcing the two of you to separate.
Dean leaned back against the shower wall and pulled you towards him, trying to support his weak legs while also helping you up. Once you were on your feet, he tugged you into him and placed a feverish kiss to your lips.
He panted heavily when he finally released you from his tight grip, allowing you to suck in some much needed air.
"Where did you learn how to do that thing with your tongue?" he asked in a hoarse voice.
You smirked. "It's a natural talent."
He grinned. "Well I fucking love it."
You laughed and leaned back into him, capturing his lips in a sweeter kiss. "So what are your thoughts on continuing this elsewhere?"
"Well my plan was to make you moan my name for the next several hours...I don't care where we go, as long as you're willing to let me ruin you."
Your thighs clenched together involuntarily and you moaned softly, biting into your bottom lip to keep the sound from being too loud. "My room?"
"My room is closer," he murmured into your shoulder.
You smiled and backed away from him, causing him to pout. You turned the water off and continued to back out of the shower. You grabbed a towel and wrapped it around yourself, which only served to upset Dean.
"What do you think you're doing?" he growled.
Your eyes widened. "Putting on a towel so we can go to your room..."
"Did I say you could hide your body from me?" His tone was shockingly dominant and a spark of need went straight to your core.
"No," you whispered.
"I didn't think so." He stepped forward, dominance oozing from every pore in his body. "Drop the towel. Now."
You gasped softly, but heeded his command. The towel fell to the floor and he took yet another predatory step in your direction.
"Don't you ever hide yourself from me again. I wanna see every inch of your body." His hands grabbed at your hips roughly, tugging you towards him forcefully. "You're mine, do you understand me? Mine."
While the idea of someone owning you would normally piss you off, in this context it was a shocking turn-on. You swallowed thickly as you stared up into his heated gaze, suddenly unable to move, or even breathe.
He leaned down to kiss along your jaw towards your ear. He breathed slowly against your skin, causing you to shiver and clutch his arms for support. "Is this okay?" he whispered, voice still gruff, but much more loving.
You nodded, not trusting yourself to form actual words.
"Baby, I need you to tell me with your words. I need you to say whether this is okay or not. I don't wanna do something you're not into."
You turned your head a little so you could see his bright green eyes. The look in his eyes was reflected in your own and there was no doubt or fear in your voice when you answered him. "I'm very into it."
Your reassurance was all he needed to fall back into the dominant role. "Then you'd better get your ass into my bed before we have a problem."
You turned to open the door, yelping slightly when his hand smacked your ass. You shot him a surprised look and he looked slightly sheepish.
"Sorry, baby...I couldn't resist. You've got a great ass."
You smirked at the compliment and gave him a little wiggle before rushing into the hallway and making a beeline for his bedroom door.
He was surprised by your teasing action, but it only made him smile. He chased after you, mumbling, "Oh you're in for it now, princess."
You giggled as you landed on his bed, crawling up towards the headboard as he came through the doorway. He shut the door behind him and stalked to the edge of the bed, fiery gaze locked on you.
"It's unfair how sexy you look right now," he growled. "Makes me wanna fuck you senseless--make you scream my name until your voice is hoarse."
You gulped, trying to hide behind false bravado. "Are you going to do that from the other side of the room?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Don't be a brat."
"Why don't you come here and do something about it."
Dean practically jumped onto the bed, climbing on top of you and caging you beneath him in seconds. His cock was hard again, pressing against your thigh--a reminder of how badly he wanted you.
"Not so mouthy now are you?"
"Dean, I--"
"Hush," he murmured as he leaned down to kiss you. He shifted just enough so his cock brushed against your core, and you gasped into his mouth.
"How badly do you want me right now, (Y/N)?" he asked, voice rough with need.
"I've never wanted you more," you answered honestly.
He groaned lowly. "How do you want it? You want me to fuck you into this mattress or take it nice and slow?"
"Fuck me into the mattress," you begged softly. "Please."
"Jesus--I love when you beg for me," he growled.
"Fuck me, Dean," you pleaded. You weren't above begging, especially when it came to him.
Dean gripped his cock in his right hand and lined himself up with your entrance. He started to push in, trying to move slowly to avoid hurting you as much. "You're so fucking tight, baby," he whispered against your lips.
You gripped his biceps harshly, nails digging into his skin. The stretch was unbelievable, both painful and pleasurable all at once.
"You okay?" he whispered softly.
You nodded.
"Babe," he said in a warning tone.
"I'm okay--keep going."
He continued to push into you and your back arched as his cock brushed against your cervix. You whimpered at the feeling of fullness, and Dean struggled to remain motionless until you told him it was okay to move.
"I need you to move, Dean--please."
He pulled himself up slightly and started a very gentle pace, still allowing you time to adjust. The last thing he wanted was to make this painful or uncomfortable for you. He didn't give a damn about his enjoyment--all he wanted was to watch you fall apart over and over again.
"Your pussy feels incredible, baby," he groaned. "I could stay here forever."
He began to move more quickly and your breathing became more erratic as you reveled in the pleasure of the moment. Your moans were like music to his ears, spurring him on as he slid into you again.
"I love the sounds you're making, sweetheart. I wanna hear you."
He picked up his pace and shifted you into a new position so he could get even deeper inside you. You cried out as he hit your g-spot, pussy clamping down on his cock in response.
"Shit--" he groaned. "You're squeezing me so tight--taking my cock so fucking well, gorgeous."
Your back arched again and your head was tossed back, pressing into the pillows at the head of the bed. Your hands twisted in the sheets, unable to reach his arms or his back as he slammed into you repeatedly.
He knew you were close, but he wasn't ready to feel you cum yet. "Look at me, baby."
He waited until your hazy eyes met his.
"Don't cum until I tell you to, understand?"
Your eyes widened. "But, Dean--"
"Not until I give you permission," he said firmly.
You nodded rapidly, not wanting to risk your orgasm altogether.
"Good girl."
You moaned loudly and your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, causing him to echo the sound.
"Fuck, baby," he groaned. "You like it when I praise you, huh? You wanna hear about how much I love this pussy? How I've been thinking about fucking you for years? How I've craved your body?"
You were practically breathless beneath him, unable to formulate a response or even acknowledge his words.
"Your pussy is fucking perfect," he continued. "Made for me. And this body? Gorgeous and soft and fucking delicious. Can't believe I get to touch you like this--make you feel so good."
"Dean, please," you begged breathlessly.
"Not yet, sweetheart."
You whimpered, but continued to focus on staving off your impending orgasm.
"Who owns this pussy, baby?"
You didn't answer--too focused on not cumming until he gave you permission.
His grip on your legs tightened, bringing your attention back to him. "That's it, pretty girl, look at me. Tell me who owns this pussy."
"You," you gasped out.
"That's right. This pussy is mine. I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this--make you moan and whimper and scream. No one else."
"Only you," you cried.
"Fuck--" His breathing had become ragged and he had begun to struggle to keep himself from orgasming.
"Please," you whimpered.
"Please what, baby?"
"Let me cum!" you begged.
Dean decided to take pity on you. "Cum for me, baby."
"Dean!" you screamed as your orgasm ripped through you. The pleasure so white hot and blinding you nearly blacked out.
Dean helped you ride out the waves of pleasure before lowering himself back down to hover over you. He placed soft kisses to your heated skin and whispered, "You're so damn beautiful when you cum."
You were gulping down mouthfuls of air, but you heard his whispered words. "I love you," you murmured.
He groaned softly. "Love you more."
He picked his pace back up, intent on giving you another orgasm before allowing himself to cum.
It didn't take long for him to work you back up, letting you hang on the precipice of blissful pleasure once more.
"You feel so good beneath me, baby. I love watching your pretty face as you fall apart. I just can't get enough of you," he admitted.
Your nails dug into his back, indicating you also couldn't get enough of him. "Dean, I need more," you pleaded.
"Touch yourself for me, baby. I want you to cum before I fill you up."
You lowered your hand down and slipped it between your bodies. You found your clit with ease and began to gently toy with it, sending pulses of toe curling pleasure up your spine.
"Fuck, yes. That's it baby. God, this pussy is addicting...don't ever wanna stop."
"So close," you whimpered.
"Yeah, sweetheart? You wanna cum?"
"Please, Dean."
"How badly?"
"Dean," you whined.
"Be a good girl and tell me how badly you wanna cum for me and maybe I'll let you."
"Please-please-please," you begged. "I wanna cum so bad. I need to cum, Dean, please!"
As much as he loved prolonging your orgasm, he couldn't bear saying no to you. "Cum for me, sweetness," he whispered into your ear.
Your body began to shake as the dam broke once again. You cried out as the pleasure invaded all of your senses, overwhelming you completely.
Dean began to chase his own high, desperately needing to fill you up with his seed. "You're the only woman who makes me lose control," he whispered into your skin.
You were surprised by his words, but they warmed your heart. Dean wasn't the kind of man to lose control often, so the fact that you made him do so was a massive ego boost.
"I wanna feel you fill me up, Dean," you murmured. "Need your cum inside me."
"Fuck," he growled, teeth grazing your pulse point.
His hips began to stutter as he reached his peak. Your nails scraped along his back, giving him the last push he needed to fall over the edge. He came with a guttural growl of your name, ropes of hot cum filling your pussy.
His arms started to feel weak as his orgasm came to an end, and he collapsed on top of you, crushing you beneath his larger frame. You couldn't have been bothered to care if he'd literally smothered you--you were too fucked out to form coherent thoughts.
After a while, Dean managed to pull himself off of you, only to collapse on the bed beside you. He reached for you, strong arms wrapping around your waist to tug you into his chest.
"You're so damn incredible, (Y/N/N)," he whispered into your shoulder, lips pressing soft kisses there. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard--and you managed to do it twice."
"I can't feel my legs and my head is fuzzy," you mumbled. "So I second all of that."
Dean chuckled softly and held you even tighter. "I love you," he murmured. "More than you'll ever know."
"I think I have some idea," you whispered back. "And I love you just as much."
Dean smiled, feeling truly happy for the first time in as long as he could remember. He knew he should get up, help you clean up and all that, but he couldn't get himself to move and you weren't complaining. In fact, your breathing had evened out and he had a feeling you'd be asleep soon.
He kissed your shoulder one more time before resting his head comfortably on the pillow, feeling more relaxed than he had in a while. Just as sleep threatened to claim him, he heard his brother's voice from the other side of the closed door.
"While I'm super happy for you both, I have one request. Next time the two of you decide to fuck each other's brains out, could you at least have the decency to wait until I'm gone? I can't un-hear any of that!"
You laughed lightly and you could feel Dean's laughter rumbling in his chest from behind you.
"We'll do our best," Dean called back. "But no promises! She's simply too hot to resist--you never know when I'll get the urge to ravish her."
You laughed even harder, but you reached behind you to lovingly smack his hip.
"Ohh gross, dude!" Sam grumbled before walking away, leaving the two of you alone again.
"You're so bad, Dean Winchester."
"I didn't hear you complaining when I was making your legs shake ten minutes ago."
You tossed him a grin over your shoulder. "I didn't say it was a bad thing."
He matched your grin. "Touché, my love. Touché."
#dean winchester#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x reader smut#supernatural#supernatural smut#dean winchester x plus size!reader smut#dean winchester x plus size reader
875 notes
·
View notes
Text
We recently learned in our media class about the four indicators that reveal a country's use of propaganda to justify its actions/build a national and international consensus over its stance. This is exactly what Israel is doing now. Please read this to learn more about the Israeli propaganda (with sources) :
i. Establishing a distinct "us" versus "them"/"the others" divide: The Israeli media has been actively engaged in crafting a narrative that portrays Palestinians as sub-humans and animals, that deserve to be killed, butchered, and deprived of essential resources such as water, electricity and fuel. This dehumanizing narrative serves to rationalize the grave atrocities committed against Palestinians, reducing them to mere statistics, rather than acknowledging them as fellow human beings who have the right to be protected as well.
A recent example of this dehumanization (that encompasses children as well) is Israel's Prime Minister's words in a now-deleted tweet, on Oct 16, stating: "This is a struggle between the children of light and the children of darkness, between humanity and the law of the jungle."
This is also a common practice in Western media as a whole. In the context of conflict, the choice of words plays a significant role: Israelis are often described as "killed," and Palestinians are referred to as having "died" (example of BBC). The distinction can be seen as a way to omit Israeli responsibility, portraying the deaths of nearly 10,000 Palestinians as a result of circumstances beyond its control, rather than the outcome of deliberate and targeted actions.
ii. Use of emotion instead of logic: a stark example would be the whole international outrage that was first sparked due to the false claim that Hamas had beheaded 40 babies. This fake news was confidently shared by U.S. President Joe Biden, who later admitted that he had never actually seen any pictures of such events, neither did anyone in the IDF because there was never any instance of 40 beheaded babies (source) (also trust me if Israel did have any pictures of killed children they would not hesitate to share it)
CNN journalist who first shared this fake news has later apologized for being "misled." (which isn't the case that was a conscious choice of the news agency but that's another conversation)
Israel knew what it was doing by sharing this particular false information, they knew that the simple imagery of such a horrifying notion, even without concrete proof, would be a strategic tool to garner international support through emotional manipulation.
They are still trying to use emotion when it comes to children particularly to sway the public opinion : Israeli government spokesman has shared images of "fallen teeth of burnt children." This post has been debunked by dentists, pointing out many contradictions in the pics that conclude that these are props and not the teeth of actual children found in rubbles. (source)
(Meanwhile, there are factual documented videos and pictures of dead Palestinian kids and babies, decapitated, injured beyond belief, tangible proof of the war crimes Israel commits and yet the public outrage isn't the same, because Israel has already established that Palestinians are lesser people)
iii. Attempting to Influence Both Elites and Ordinary Citizens: In addition to their efforts to secure international support from world leaders, Israel has employed a multifaceted approach by spreading advertisements that regular civilians view. These ads serve to rationalize their actions, and they are strategically placed ahead of unrelated programming, including children's shows or games.
This tactic aims to integrate their ideology into various aspects of our lives, in order to promote their agenda and inundate us with recurrent pro-Israel messages. This strategy capitalizes on the psychological principle that the mind tends to retain information it encounters most frequently. (a more detailed video explanation)
iv. media manipulation tactics : For example, the night before Israel bombed the Baptist hospital in Gaza killing more than 1000 people, BBC published an article with the headline "Does Hamas build tunnels under schools and hospitals?" giving way to a "justification" for the heinous, war crime act that is bombing a hospital, under the guise of targeting Hamas hidden bases.
The use of the Israel-Gaza war as a headline for the news leads us to believe that this is a war with two equal (or slightly disproportionate) parties who are both able to defend themselves. Whereas this is a genocide led by Israel (a powerful military with international backing by the world's most powerful nations- U.S, U.K, France, Germany.. to cite a few) and CIVILIANS. Because those are the people that Israel is targeting, by bombing hospitals, schools, mosques, churches, refugee camps.
It is a genocide, an ethnical cleansing, an attempt to eradicate entire families, then to relocate the survivors out of Gaza, making it impossible for them to reclaim their land, and resulting in a total takeover of Palestine by Israel.
Another manipulation example (because there are so many) is the first and most prominent question that many Western journalists ask their guests: "Do you condemn the attacks of Hamas on Oct 7?"
This question completely disregards the root of this entire conflict, which is the 75-year ongoing colonization of Palestine. By omitting all the previous crimes against Palestinians that led to the attack (the killings, the wrongful imprisonments, the torture, the stealing of land…) these 'journalists' actively manipulate the public opinion, portraying the Hamas attack as unprovoked, when you cannot possibly expect a colonization to have 0 resistance.
And an honorable mention to the zionists who are trying to morph the anti-Israel stance into an anti-Jew one. This isn't about religion, I've said this once and I will say it again, Jews around the world are condemning the actions of their government. Just recently, Jews were arrested in NYC for standing against Israel. (source)
This is a humanitarian cause. We're humans, this is the one denominator factor that unites all. We read about previous genocides in history. We wondered how people could support the killings of innocent people, men and women, and children and babies. It is happening right now again, and media propaganda plays a significant role in shaping public perceptions.
I couldn't include everything here but please, I urge you to use your critical thinking. Don't believe everything the media tells you, and this is coming from a graduated journalist. We learn about propaganda and how to counter it, which also means we learn about how to manufacture it.
So don't be gullible, boycott the companies who support Israel (mainly HP, Siemens, AXA, Puma, Israeli fruits and vegetables, Sodastream, Ahava, Sabra. check BDS for more information) and urge your governments to support the ceasefire. We have a voice and we should use it, even if we're uncomfortable, even if we're scared. Do it. By staying silent you become complicit in genocide.
796 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi hi hi!
could you write something for charles leclerc x single!mom!reader? maybe her son ( or daughter or both ) both him for the first time and they're all protective over their mom, and she has to leave them alone for sometime and when she finds them they're bonding?
this probably does not make sense but oh well
have something to eat and some water if you haven't in the last hour!
and can i be 🎧 anon, if it isn't taken already? my pronouns are she/her and i'm 18!
an: i had a lot of fun writing this one, and i think it has a special place in my heart forever ♡ i’ll add you to the list! welcome lovely 💫
You’ve been seeing Charles for about four months now. In that time you haven’t introduced him to your son — Cody, who is seven. You were worried about him meeting your boyfriends and them leaving, which would mean they also leave him behind. So none of your boyfriends have ever met Cody.
Charles knows about Cody though, and vice versa. You’re currently dressing up to go out on a date with Charles as Cody sits on your bed, little feet dangling from the side. “You look so pretty mommy. Are you going on a date today?” The little boy rubs his eyes, visibly exhausted from the day. He has a lot of energy during the day and then he winds down and passes out by nine. He’s a lot like you in that sense.
You sit down on your bed next to him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Thank you baby. Yes I’m going on a date with Charles today. He’ll be here soon to pick me up.” You see the gears turning in his little head, and he meets your eyes. “Do you trust him?” He asks, fiddling with the hem of your dress. A nervous tick he got from you no doubt.
“Yes angel, I trust him more than anyone. Do you want to meet him and see for yourself?” The only way Cody will be less worried about you is if he met Charles and saw for himself that he was a good guy. He nods, gathering himself up and running to the living room where Scooby Doo is playing on the tv, the babysitter that you got for tonight was still on the way so you wouldn’t be able to leave before she arrived.
You hear the distinctive sound of Charles’ car coming to a stop in-front of your house when you see Cody’s head shoot up, looking through the curtain at the car that stopped in front. “Woah” You hear him softly whisper to nobody in particular. You smile , making your way towards the front door to let Charles inside.
Charles looks absolutely incredible, not too fancy and not too casual. He kisses you on the cheek, aware of the little boy now sitting on the couch looking warily at him. “Hello my love, are you nearly ready to go?” He looks at Cody, smiling at him. “Hello Cody. It’s nice to officially meet you.” he shakes the little boy’s hand.
Cody smiles softly, “It’s nice to meet you, uncle Charles.” Your heart warms at the smile on Charles’ face. You walk to the bedroom. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, I just need to finish getting ready.” You sit down at your vanity, trying to finish your makeup as fast as you can to not leave Cody with Charles too long. You know Cody isn’t always comfortable at first with people, and you don’t want him to feel like that with Charles.
In the living room Charles hunches down to Cody’s level. “What’s wrong Cody? Did I do something wrong?” He wants to make a good impression on him, because he sees you and him being together for a long time. Cody looks at him with big eyes. “Do you really like my mommy?”
Charles’ heart aches as he looks at Cody. He’s trying to protect your feelings before you can get hurt. He’s probably seen you come back from other dates either absolutely exhausted or crying.Charles realises that Cody just doesn’t want you to go through that again.
Tears are now prominent on the little boy’s waterline as Charles gives his arm a reassuring squeeze. “I love your mom. She’s an incredible woman and I’d like to spend a long time making her happy. She means a lot to me, you know. And I’d like to make you happy too. I was thinking that we could go on a drive tomorrow if you’d like. We can go get ice cream and stop by any shop you want.” Charles notices the hint of excitement in Cody’s eyes. He also sees the relief in the little boy’s face, hearing Charles speak so lovingly about his mom.
Cody grins at him, “I’d love to! Your car is really cool. Does it go really fast?” Question after question falls from the little boy’s mouth, his excitement not contained anymore. Charles chuckles, sitting down on the couch next to Cody, answering every question he’s got.
You finally emerge out of the bedroom, hair done nicely, makeup finished as you make your way to the living room where you find no Charles and no Cody. How odd. As you begin searching you hear giggles coming from the kitchen and your heart swells at the image you see as you peek around the corner.
Cody’s sitting on the counter, a pancake in his mouth, laughing at Charles who’s attempting to flip the pan expertly as to flip the pancake around. He failed miserably as the pancake misses the pan and splats on the floor. Cody laughs loudly. “You’re so silly Charlie.”
A nickname. Cody gave Charles a nickname. You feel your heart ache as you smile at them. Charles has a faint flush to his cheeks when he spots you in the hallway, a smile on your face. “What’s going on in here? Are you burning my house down, Cha?” Cody turns his head to you, still happily snacking on a pancake that didn’t fall to the floor. “We’re making pancakes! Do you want one mommy?” Cody offers you a plate with a smiley-faced pancake and you can’t help but laugh. “Sure, thank you baby.” You sit down at the counter, enjoying the moment with them.
Charles made you call the babysitter to cancel. “Why would we go anywhere else when this is where I could only dream to be.” He took your hand as you’re now sitting on the couch. Cody sitting on his other side, you see Charles holding his hand as well. Your heart swells at the image, and you realise that this was what you’d dreamed of as a little girl. A perfect family.
“We can go on a date another day this week. This moment is more important.” Charles whispers, giving you a small kiss and continuing to watch the cartoons on tv.
You realise that this is how you’d be able to spend forever. With them. With Charles.
reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! ★
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x single!mom!reader#charles leclerc x female reader#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x reader
926 notes
·
View notes
Text
you're a wanted person. that isn't new to you, but after years of working, someone. no. something is after you.
you were taught by the best, your mother, she was an amazing woman but she was too trusting and in the end, that was her downfall. you won't make that mistake. you're a killer, but a righteous one. you kill those who deserve it, the disposable.
with your abnormal abilities, of which only twenty-five percent of the population is gifted with. you can succeed in what she was never able to do, rid the world of sinners.
you work for the slaughterhouse, a bar... with a dark side; in a rowdy part of the city. your mother was the owner but she didn't pass it down to you, she passed it your younger twin siblings. she believed you were far too talented to sit behind a desk, dealing with paperwork.
you've traveled all over the world, exterminating. you've claimed plenty of people, but perhaps this time you went after the wrong one. having no other choice you flee back home, but you aren't safe there either, you never are.
play with a customizable mc [gender (male or female), physical appearance, personality, sexuality]
protect those you care about or turn your back on them when they need you.
romance, befriend, or make enemies between any of the sixteen characters. four gender selectable, six male, and six female.
decide what supernatural ability you were gifted with; telepathy, telekinesis, or teleportation [figure out how to develop it and what other ability you have]
define your mc's signature weapon, fighting style and overall skillset; how you feel about killing, and the supernatural abilities you were gifted with.
this story is rated 18+ for sexual themes, substance (drug and alcohol) use, explicit language, and violence. [more themes might be added later]
the tattoo artist [male or female] [ro] wren price – partner in crime. they've been by your side since you can remember. always with a bright smile and cheeky remarks, you can't think about how your life would look without them. though they act differently with others, more serious, with a glint in their eyes you can't quite figure out. they never look at you like that.
the bodyguard [male] [ro] theodore price – the older brother of your best friend. there's no doubt in your mind that they're related. he's protective over you, although you can't hold that against him as that's what he does for a living. protect people. he's hard to get to know on a deeper level and you can't help but wonder what's going on in his mind.
the detective [female] [ro] rori hayes – now, if you weren't yourself, perhaps you could have been friends with her. but unfortunately for you... she's extremely suspicious of you and set to bring you to justice. she's recently been promoted and she cannot afford to fail, not when her family is counting on her.
the chief deputy sheriff [male] [ro] charles butler – good ole charlie, you're acquainted with each other. he can't say he isn't a little impressed with you. but you're endangering the citizens of his city and that includes his little girl. he may not have any evidence on you but you need to be brought down, and he's going to be the one that books you.
the model [male] [ro] julien ripley – son of the sheriff. he always looks uncomfortable with his own father. he’s never talked to you before and you’re almost positive he has no opinion on you. he’s a very well known face, although you can tell he doesn’t like being stared at and overall talking to anyone. *male mcs only
the journalist [female] [ro] sloane campbell – she's fast alright and always seems to know your moves. too bad she isn't on your side. always trying to announce to the world, where you are and what you're planning to do next. good thing she's overlooked at her job, consistently being handed stories that, even you know, aren't going anywhere.
the bartender [male or female] [ro] hale/hart vaughn – a family friend, and your sister's best friend. with their tantalizing words, they don't know the meaning of being serious. they are quite insufferable and you can't seem to be able to get rid of them. you have a feeling if you did, your own sister would come after you.
the florist [female] [ro] paris graham– at first glance she doesn't appear to be anything special, but that would be wrong. she's a firework waiting to explode and you want to be there when it happens. her work doesn't suit her but you have a feeling, that being a florist isn't all that she does. *female mcs only
the apartment owner [male] [ro] nolan adams – he knows about you and what you do, but he doesn’t give off the feeling of someone who’d go running to tell. you’ve always come back to lay low at his apartment complex when you need to and as long as you pay on time he doesn’t care what you do.
the actor [female] [ro] ophelia wylie – a face from your past, one you can’t say you particularly enjoy facing again. she seems remorseful for what she did to you, in fact she looks like a completely different person and she’s offering to help you, but for what in exchange… after all, no one gives anything for free.
the crime lord [male] [ro] louis foster – of course you’ve heard of lou, you’d be an idiot if you didn’t. he's tried and failed to recruit you and he never fails. you’ve been warned before, it would be a mistake to make an enemy out of a king.
the informant [male] [ro] vincent sutton – it’s rare to ever see him out, only ever seen accompanying lou. if you had the ability to feel fear, you’d fear him. he shows every sign of being against you, but then again, it seems as if he does that to everyone around him as well.
the chef [male or female] [ro] mateo/melanie olsen – you see them quite often, as their restaurant is one of your favorites. they always serve you with a smile and if they do know you, they play oblivious. they're just happy to have a customer who enjoys their food.
the doctor [female] [ro] eileen yates – serene and calming, a voice who always knows exactly what to say. she may look innocent but she’s far from it, you’ve known her for years yet you don’t truly know her, for all you know eileen may not even be her name.
the accountant [female] [ro] felix price – the youngest of the price siblings, she helps out with all the money coming into and out of the slaughterhouse. she’s always been compassionate and reasonable. you can't imagine her hurting a fly.
the rival bar owner [male or female] [ro] kinslee dean – they own a bar just a couple streets down from yours. it’s always been a problem and they’re actively trying to shut down the slaughterhouse. but they’re surprisingly level-headed and want to 'handle' this problem with logic.
the owner of the slaughterhouse [male] archer – your younger brother, he’s honestly kind of a mess. he was not ready for this responsibility but he’s trying. the mischievous boy you grew up with, you don’t know where he is anymore.
the owner of the slaughterhouse [female] iris – your younger sister, she’s always been loud and bold. but she’s changed too, she’s calm and collected. she’s trying her best to help her brother along too.
the sheriff [male] lazlo ripley – a pompous man with nothing else to do but terrorize those he thinks are inferior to him.
DEMO [Coming Soon]
warning: this story is still under development, all elements are subject to change!!
#gold dust#gold dust if#if wip#writing#interactive fiction#interactive story#interactive novel#intro post#upcoming if#choice of games#cog#choice script
629 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
oh-koenig-my-koenig
she likes the dark
difranco
DiFranco | Jun Mochizuki Fanclub
distant-velleity
consume me — yes, me
sunkelking
Spencer/Sunny/Kelsey/Twilight
eightieslover
saved :)