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#please spare my sanity a little
olivegardenhunter · 1 month
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for the love of god as someone who has studied international humanitarian law for the last 5 years. I BEG of you, naruto fandom, to stop throwing around words like war crimes and genocide like it means nothing. and PLEASE stop directly applying real world standards onto the systems created in the Naruto universe. I'm not saying don't compare them at all, but please recognise that the Naruto universe very much have their own established systems with their own laws and standards that are not a perfect parallel to our world. and it's for this reason that you cannot hold the Naruto universe to the same standards you hold in the real world.
criticism and comparisons are good, absolutely, but recognise that there are different standards, particularly when it comes to morality, that are established in-universe. and finally, PLEASE understand that some of the things you argue in absolutes are things that continue to be debated even in the real world in the first place! some of the standards and morals that you hold the Naruto universe to aren't even fully agreed on in real life. please just recognise all these nuances and differences when you want to make a meta about the Shinobi system by applying real world standards.
keep writing up metas about the Shinobi world and keep comparing it to the real world and critiquing and analysing and dismantling what it is. but please just be a bit more careful and nuanced when you directly critique and interpret naruto using real world standards and logic. it is important to acknowledge that there are different lenses you can view media through, and that our morals and standards just happen to be one lens. it is far more interesting anyway to critique and find fault with the shinobi system through its own logic and by following its own universe's rule.
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nightowlqueen · 1 year
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The litany against getting Mad Online is me insta blocking the person who came onto my post where I complained about Yuri SxF wanting to fuck his sister. They were like "Ugh I wish people didn't freak out so much about sibling complexes. Yuri is funny BECAUSE-" Nope, instant block, I don't need to see whatever else you wrote cause it's gonna be bullshit I do not need
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suguru-getos · 8 months
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୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 27﹕✦﹕┈・୧
-> Event Masterlist
Yandere Hawks x F!Reader -> Ruts
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Warnings: Dub!con, filthy dirty talk 😭, prone!bone, dóggy!, squirting, nicknames -> Baby bird, love bird, mentions of breed!ng, cumflation, plugging, overstimulation. Yandere tendencies, threats, wings as a source of threat, kidnapping. Let me know if I missed anything.
Summary: How you latched yourself as Hawks’ little thing after being just an avid fan, now caged and loved (in his own ways) and mated to. <3
You hate the crumbling feeling on your stomach that comes with Keigo's presence, your heart aches, your sanity gets crumpled under his dominant, ruthless gaze that hides oh-so-well behind his suffocating love. Keigo knew the moment he saw you for the first time, sparing your time at a coffee shop in the evening, the same shop he sometimes likes to visit. The coffee there is immaculate, not the 'gutter like' canned coffees he drinks for the hell of it. You were just as enamoured by the rest of the fans, gazing at him, some are nervously asking for his autograph, some of them are asking for selfies. Yet, nothing phases Hawks. It's as if he's made for this. Made to show everyone why he's the Number Two hero. You could almost swear it gave you strength and guts to ask yourself, so you get up from your place, walking towards him with that unhinged confidence, mingled with a hint of nervousness because of just how much you adored him as you urged him for a selfie. Mostly, Hawks takes respectful selfies with women, distancing himself just enough not to look probing, yet close enough to look friendly. Yet, she selfie you clicked with him didn't turn out to look so planned, so thought out. It almost seemed like Hawks wanted the momento you carried to have an imprinting significance.
Then, it was as if fate was responsible for what comes next, or that's something stupid you'd leave your old self to believe. Hawks saved you from harassing villains, taking you home couped up in his lap. Why wouldn't you ask him to come inside, why wouldn't you offer him a drink?
Now you're just a kidnapped nobody, your family thinks you're dead, your friends think you're dead, Keigo made sure of that. You see- he could easily date you, but patience is not something he harbours so perfectly. He could earn your love, by being the doting boyfriend, by being everything you'd ever want.
Then again, he can do that once he has the surety of you being couped up in his house. That's exactly what he did.
"Come on Baby bird, I am trying to be nice." He coos softly, watching you scream and cry and beg, it breaks his heart why don't you understand.
"Maybe I can write my name on your hand?" He holds up his feather blade, it's half threat, half unhinged devotion. "Promise you won't feel a thing!"
"Hey I got you, your absolute favourite food lovebird, come here." He croons, urging you against your will to settle in his lap as he feeds you.
He is tolerant, even tempered, hopelessly funny until you piss him off. You know better than to piss him off after being with him for a few months now. You can't even recognize him when that happens, rageful daunting echoing through the walls as his flowy feathers encircle your body like a threat, Hawks is a threat. You mustn't forget that.
He thinks sex can solve it all, what more than to make love to his mate, to get intimate and make you take his ridged member in your hole over and over until it slides in without your squirms and moans. He can tie you up if you do though, no disturbances please-
You haven't seen the real, gruesome, cruel self of Hawks yet. You will soon, his rut is approaching. The symptoms are clear to him, and weirdly to you as well. He has discussed this several times during the 'aftercare' of you. "You know, there are certain times when.." his thumb rubbing your palm soothingly, "When the avian side of me becomes dominant…" He says it so softly you'd almost feel it's harmless.
Not right now though, when it's actually impending and happening.
"Baby bird, did you fucking put your clothes in laundry?" Keigo yelled from the washroom, the restroom's echo making him sound even more terrific than he usually is. You visibly flinch like a dried leaf, shuddering, "Sorry- Kei I- uhm, sorry they were dirty." You don't know the reason of this outburst, you'd rather not find out.
You give yourself strength to drag your defiant feet towards the rest room, finding him pathetically curled up on the left-over set of your used clothes. He looks almost cute if it weren't for his intentions.
"God I- I want you so fucking bad." He almost whimpers, soon turning into an aggressive growl.
"On the fucking bed, all fours." You shake up at the sudden order, were you being punished for something like this? Keigo's crazy but he's not this- off his clock. "Why? What- what did I do wrong?" You bite your lip, one feeble attempt to want to know what you're up against.
Hawks sighs, his expressive wings faltering as he took two steps towards you, wanting to lessen the distance. You wanted to run so bad, the instinct in you screaming to run, yet the panic in you freezing you up.
"Nothing, pretty girl. Told you I got my rut approaching, didn't I?" Hawks is slightly tender, though from the way he's straining himself to be polite, you know not for long. "On the bed. All. Fours." He gripped your face with a single hand, puckering your lips and leaning in, forcing a painful whimper with the way he kisses you roughly.
"Good girl." He parts away, the string of saliva parting like a thread of fate.
You don't want to make this hard on yourself, so you walk towards the shared master bedroom, it's designed in colours which are neutral, yet suit perfectly to the Hawks palette. As his fan, or ex-fan, rather, you always thought of how his aesthetic would be, and it perfectly matches your imaginations.
To please him a little more, you take off your clothes, arching your back up perfectly to let him see your pre-abused cunt, sitting perfectly down your tightened asshole. You bury your head on the mattress, letting it be cushioned in the fluffy pillows.
An audible hiss escapes Hawks, he can't fucking control the lewd desires that tear him apart when he marvels at your body. "These next few days, would be tough, Angel." Keigo warns, and before your brain could register, or formulate a response, You feel Keigo spitting onto your cunt, the dribble of the liquid making you throb, moistening your walls as his fingers pinched at your clit. A small whimper escapes you when you find your sensitive bundle of nerves under his mercy. "Aw, little slut loves a little pain with it." Keigo snickers under his breath, spanking the fat of your ass hard, one single hit shoving you into the mattress more, though the hold on your clit forbids you to. It feels like a clamp being pulled, you're left with nothing more than a scream as a response.
"Oh good girl, sing for me." Hawks hums, spreading your ass cheeks and watching your now relieved clit twitch, along with your walls. "This pussy begging for me?" He warns, and you nodded as if there's no other answer you can give him.
"Going to fill you up, breed my little mate until she can't take it anymore. Give you so many loads your pussy can't have any other option but to give me a little Keigo, or a little Y/N." He groans to himself, taking his hardened cock out, shoving it deep into your walls, in one swift go. You can cum as many times as you want really, because normally, Keigo's stamina covers up for it, this time- worse. He's rutting like an animal, achy, needy, all for you.
"Then- you know what I'll do?" Hawks breathes out, gritting his teeth as you scream in pain, laced with the perfect amount of pleasure.
"Then, I'll plug this pretty pussy up, none of my cum can escape. Then when I want to, I'd unplug and fill you up again. Little cum jar." He laughs, "My pathetic little cum dump, aren't you?"
Hawks is filthy, absolutely unhinged and filthy with the way dirty talk laced with degradation spouts out from him.
You nodded, hating the way your body betrays you at his words, the way your cunt clamps onto him in a silent affirmation.
"Good (thrust) girl (thrust), gonna (thrust) fill'ya (thrust) up."
Your moans and whimpers echo throughout the shared bedroom, it feels almost sinful, the way his dick kisses your cervix, brushing against your G-spot and making you dance around the waves of pleasure. "So fuckin' tight even though I fuck your pussy up almost err'day." Keigo leans his head back, praising you as he rails onto you, one to two thrusts every second, hands gripping your waist with a bruising grip so you can't possibly run away. "Atta girl" He loves how your moans break into a jerk with the way he's thrusting. Loving the way your petite body tries to clamp up around him, loving the way you try to keep up.
"Aw she's clenching, yeah? Go on, massage my cock and cum. NOW." Keigo commands, an order which would come intertwined with punishments if you don't listen. You croak out, as you orgasm, the constant poking of your G-Spot makes you remember the familiar sensation when you squirted last time, it's so embarrassing, how you gush out at the roughness, and you find yourself doing exactly that. "Aw yes baby, yeah baby," Keigo encouraged, riding out your high as he thrusted his own load, deep into you, still continuing, the same pace, no break.
"Ngh- Ah- please- no. You- I can't." You can feel yourself squeeze down, pathetically so as another orgasm builds to betray your words.
"No no no, where'dya think you're doing Baby bird?" Keigo chuckles, laughing at your feeble attempt to run away, loving how your legs give out.
"Hmm? Want Prone bone? Oof, nasty little song bird." Keigo commented, adjusting your legs, using your tiredness to his advantage as his pelvis slaps your ass with the aggressive way his cock thrusts into you. It's akin to an actual spanking, and you tip off the edge of your delicious orgasm once more. Gritting teeth at the overpowering waves of pleasure. "Gah- can't-"
Your whimpers are paid no heed, another sticky load from Keigo creaming inside you. "That's two, got a lot more in me." Keigo warns, while you feel dizzy at the shaking way your body is being used.
He stops a little though, wanting to give you just a few more minutes before you can start giving him orgasms again, his beautiful little cock massager.
Keigo loves it, how giving you a break makes you slightly reset to be used again.
"Say you love me." He croons, almost sounding like a hurt child, though you know that persona would quickly change.
"I love you." He makes you say it so many times your own definition of the term 'love' is slightly going hazy, not accustomed to your own terms and blurring out with his.
"Gonna make you turn on your back now Little one." Keigo coos, watching you tenderly and moving again.
Oh it was going to be a long night for Hawks' mate. You only hope you'd be able to bear him on you, just as he hopes of you loving him as much as he does.
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For your celebration about she fell first but he fell harder, with clark kent or logan?
It Got Worse
Clark Kent x Wayne!reader
Bruce Wayne thought that the worst thing to ever happen to him was his darling little sister developing a crush on his best friend, but oh boy, it gets worse.
Warnings: reader is Bruce’s adopted sister, Clark is a SIMP, fluff, pregnancy
WC: 487
Minors DNI
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3000 Follower Celebration
“Kal, stop staring at her. You look like a fucking creep.” Clark snapped back to reality, shaking himself from his daydreams. Bruce glared at him with a stern expression, his eyes dark with a raging anger reserved only for those who royally pissed him off.
Clark blushed and looked away, although he was conscious not to look even vaguely in your direction anymore. “It’s not being creepy, it’s being in love.” He retorted with a pout. Bruce scoffed.
“Actually the technical term is stalking.”
“She’s my fiancée.”
“She’s my sister.” Clark harrumphed and slumped down in the conference room chair. Obviously Bruce was going to get the kryptonite from his “super secret safe” if Clark even dared think about looking your way again, so the Kryptonian focused his ears and began to listen to your heartbeat instead. “Don’t.” Batman growled.
“I wasn’t even doing anything!” He whined, throwing his arms up into the air like a petulant toddler. 
“You two are already getting a whole day where the two of you can fawn all over each other and I am being forced to be there. So please, spare me the love-sick glances and blatantly inappropriate thoughts you are having about my little sister, until then.” Considering that the end of the conversation, Bruce turned back to his work, assuming that Clark would follow his lead. 
But instead there was a rush of air, causing the documents that had been carefully laid out on the table to scatter everywhere. With a heaving sigh, the older man looked up to see his future brother-in-law cradling you in his arms, lathering your face with sloppy kisses as you screamed with laughter.
Yet Bruce couldn’t help but smile. He remembered only two years ago when you would frequently collapse onto his couch, spouting about how in love with Clark you were and no matter what you did, he never reciprocated. In desperation for saving not only your happiness, but also his own sanity, Bruce had outright told Superman to ask you out. And he had been living to regret it ever since. 
Yes, you were happy and so was his best friend but the honeymoon phase had never ended. That led to an overabundance of pda, way way too many pet names, and a legitimate concern that Clark would drop dead the moment he saw you in your wedding gown.
You were trying to push your fiancé away, but he wouldn’t budge, instead one large hand slipped under your large shirt to cup your soft stomach. You placed your own hand on top of his as your lips met in an achingly soft kiss. Clark’s blue eyes sparkled with tears as you cooed something to him that your brother could not hear.
By the time the hero fell to his knees to kiss where his hand had just occupied, the realisation slapped Bruce in the face. This has just gotten worse.
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hunny-beann · 6 months
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Desiderium I
Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader
-> Part II
Note: This fic absolutely breaks cannon in multiple ways, but I felt the urge to write this and created it thus lol, so I hope you enjoy regardless (and for my own sanity, we'll just call this an avenger!Loki au).
Synopsis:
Loki is plagued by a dream thrust upon him as punishment during his imprisonment, and finds that even once he regains his freedom, he still can't move past the vision of the life he could have had with you. And when those around him struggle to understand his sorrows, he decides to show them firsthand what he endured while asleep that night, and all that he lost both by waking up, and by making all of the wrong choices for far too long.
Oh, but it's never truly over, is it?
And your sudden reappearance proves that.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of pregnancy
Word Count: 5,057
"Does he ever stop sulking?"
Tony muttered under his breath after sparing a quick glance toward the aesir God of Mischief that sat in the corner of the room, staring into a cloud of green created by his own hand with a type of longing he had worn almost constantly for months now.
At first, many had thought his sullen nature to be a result of his capture and subsequent imprisonment, but even now that he was far more free to roam and do what he pleased (within reason), his somber attitude still had yet to let up.
In fact, some would even swear that it had gotten worse.
The God of Thunder included, and also in particular.
From the beginning, Thor had perhaps been the biggest defender of his younger brother, and of course he had, how could he not be?
But even still, when it came to the questioning of Loki's less than enthusiastic (and at times, borderline concerning) behavior, Thor somehow managed to become even more defensive of his confusing family member and all of the quirks that he seemed to have.
This occasion included.
He turned toward Anthony Edward Stark with a slight frown, a sigh that seemed reserved purely for situations concerning Loki passing his lips,
"All of this has been rather... difficult for him. There is much that he misses about our realm, and even more that he has lost."
Tony rose a brow at that, fighting back a groan at the seemingly constant dramatics of the "Odinson" siblings.
Who would have thought that two gods could be so annoyingly theatrical?
"A lot of people have lost a lot of things, Point Break. Some of them at his hand, in case you need a reminder."
Tony muttered, struggling to find sympathy for the green themed deity sitting across the room, a look of deep longing and sorrow in his gaze as he continued staring into the cloud of his own creation.
Thor sighed again.
"I do not, Stark, nor does my brother. He had a multitude of things revealed to him in dreams delivered by the gods whilst locked away. He is... Not the same."
Tony sighed, shrugging his shoulders as he tried to return his focus toward what he'd been doing before he'd made the mistake of mentioning Loki to his older brother.
"Whatever you say, big guy. Just do me a favor though and ask him if he can practice his daily sulking rituals somewhere else. His whole 'woe is me' vibe makes it a little hard to focus."
Thor sighed again at his comrade's obvious lack of compassion toward his clearly suffering sibling, but he nodded nonetheless.
"I will see what I can do, Stark."
And with that, he was taking familiarly heavy steps toward Loki, each growing more hesitant than the last as he took in the full sight of him.
It was no wonder that Tony found his presence to be so distracting, because in truth, you could all but feel his angst rolling off of him in waves, strong and undeniably present in a manner that almost made the god himself shiver.
It was not easy for the god of mischief, what he was going through, but perhaps even Thor himself had managed to underestimate it.
Perhaps he should have been even more concerned than he already was.
"Loki."
He said stiffly upon his approach, watching as the god in question briefly glanced in his direction in acknowledgement before returning his gaze back to his seidr.
"I sympathize greatly with your sorrows, and I wish truly that I could do away with them for you, but a request has been made for you to better contain your bereavements, if possible, and I think it would be best for you to try."
Thor said calmly, though he could see as plain as day that his words had done no good, a fact made evident by the way that his brother turned to look at him, as if both wounded and infuriated at the very same time.
What a familiar look that was for the mischief god to wear these days.
He stood, green cloud disappearing as he did so, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.
"Do you believe somehow that I have not already done all that I can to contain my grief, you blithering fool?"
He all but hissed, anger controlling his words but a deep and pervasive sadness evident in his eyes, allowing the god of thunder to see far beyond the ruse his sibling was attempting to put up.
Loki was hurting, perhaps beyond anything that he had endured before, and Thor was unsure if that could have been made any more clear.
The god of mischief took a step closer, slowly, threateningly, as if he might frighten the being standing before him, the only one present that had ever truly seen the good in him, the angel before the fall.
A trickster to be sure, but the villain that he so desperately tried to make himself out to be? Thor could not see such a thing, not in the eyes of one he had grown up alongside of.
Not in his brother, regardless of blood.
Regardless of what was said or done.
"You haven't the slightest clue what I have endured, and yet you have the gall to request that I reign in my pain, as if it is not all that has been left of me? All that has not been so crudely taken?"
He snarled, coming closer, ignoring the heavy gaze of Anthony Stark as it landed upon him, and choosing to pay no mind to the fact that he had undoubtedly called the others in, a fact made clear by the large number of footfalls that grew nearer and nearer by the second.
Maybe Tony was simply a fool made cautious by what he had seen the god do in the past, or maybe he just wished to not be the only audience for this particular spat.
Either way, it mattered not to Loki.
The god in question was far too tired, far too angry, and far too confused to let such a disrespect as this pass.
If they did not understand, then he would make them, and maybe then they could comprehend the realness, the immense depth and crushing weight of his pain.
The burden he bore.
The reaping of what he had sowed long ago, without even realizing it.
The universe had never been fair, not to him, and it was apparent now that such a truth had persevered from the very start.
Back before his title had meant more than a whisper to him, before he had felt the need to prove he was more.
When there had been so much more kindness in his heart and light in his life.
When there had been hope,
When there had been you.
Thor put his hands up defensively, though how secure he truly felt in spite of this almost entirely symbolic and pleading gesture was made clear by his tone, which was pitying in every sense of the word.
"Calm down, brother, I meant no disrespect. I simply feel a deep worry for you, I do not want to watch you suffer any longer. It is a heavy weight upon me to know that you are so burdened."
He said appealingly, eyes full of a type of plea and concern that, once upon a time, might have caused the god of mischief to think for a moment, and perhaps even halt his actions altogether.
But now was not then, and after all that he had seen, all that was now and could have been, he found that his brother's words only served to make him angrier.
"You feel a heavy weight, do you?"
He said darkly, stalking ever forward, even as Thor backed away slowly with each step, not wishing to see his family member trapped in a cage once again as a result of some petty fight.
There was rage in Loki's eyes now, though it did nothing to cancel out the sadness there.
It was clear what was driving him, but even more evident was how upset the god was about that fact.
He did not like being so controlled by his emotions, resented the way that everyone could tell how he was feeling in spite of how hard he tried to hide it.
He had done his best to conceal his sorrows and this was what he had gotten? A request for more, as if he would not have hidden them away entirely in favor of allowing those who were once his enemies to see his weaknesses? The way that truth had changed him?
It infuriated him to no end.
"Can you even begin to imagine then,"
He started, voice low, but just loud enough so that every avenger who had now entered the room could hear it from where they stood together in silence, watching as Loki stalked ever closer to his brother, hands still clenched at his sides, jaw unfathomably tense, and muscles twitching with a quiet kind of rage.
"What I am feeling?"
He finished viciously.
Thor frowned, voice still full of pity and something akin to longing as he replied, tone still entirely bereft of fear,
"I know only what you have told me, dear brother."
He said, watching as Loki all but scoffed at his words,
"So in that way, yes, I suppose I am capable of imagining what you must feel."
The god of mischief laughed in response to this, a humorless and cold sound that was choked by some long abided pain, some endless suffering that only a god could understand, and that no mere mortal could ever endure and survive.
"I think not."
He snapped angrily, watching as Thor's brow creased in response, not understanding what about his reply had been so terribly wrong that it had brought about such a strong reaction from his sibling.
Loki continued,
"I think that if you could even begin to comprehend what I have seen, what I have lost, you would never even think to make an attempt at consoling or correcting me, nor could you ever deign to imagine believing that the small amounts of my grief witnessed through my behavior could be decreased any further. If you could truly understand, you would know the weight that I carry, and you would see that it could never be lessened, because there is truly no greater grief than that which I am suffering from!"
Thor stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, before finally he spoke up once more, voice slightly smaller, though still not lacking in compassion or empathy.
"Brother, I beg you to help me understand better so I may communicate this suffering of yours to those around us who do not know you as well as I. We are guests here on Midgard, and I cannot allow for you to push this pain of yours onto our hosts so endlessly without solution or a shared understanding in mind. How can you expect anyone to have faith or sympathy for you if you will not tell us what has happened?"
Thor's pleas caused yet another round of laughter to burst forth from the god of mischief, though this one was less pained and a bit more angry, a twinge of eagerness to it that did not spell out anything good, not for Thor nor any of the unwelcome audience present within the room alongside them.
"You wish for me to let them see? For me to grant you understanding?"
Loki hissed out, a familiar and volatile energy filling the room as he began to use his seidr to do just that.
"Loki-"
Thor warned, moving to take a step forward when suddenly, the entire room seemed to disappear beneath his feet, and without warning, he found himself in a place entirely unfamiliar to him, standing amongst his peers in a small crowd that occupied some unseen corner of whatever space this was.
He watched as Tony turned to look at him, frustration and confusion etched into his features and mouth opening to speak just as a familiar voice cut through the silence.
It was Loki, but not the one that those watching had come to know.
No, this was a Loki long forgotten by time and entirely unknown by the avengers present to witness this dream that the god of mischief had once so vaguely described to his brother while in the thralls of his pain.
This was the vision that the gods had shown to the adopted son of Odin during his imprisonment within the Avenger's tower months prior.
This was where his sadness, his grief, and his longing had stemmed from.
And it was clear, as they all watched on, why that may have been.
It was beautiful here, wherever here was.
The sun shone through every window, and this place, clearly a home, was adorned with stunning textiles and masonry, each detail obviously considered and brought to life with such care and intention that it could bring one to tears if they focused on it long enough.
Thankfully for the onlookers though, this would not be necessary, because the Loki in question who stood before them made for quite a distracting sight.
He looked younger here somehow, features untouched by some pervasive strain or anger that had long since gotten to the man that was so well known to them now.
His expression was peaceful, happy, so devoid of the angst or maliciousness that many were used to seeing.
This version of Loki, whoever he was, and whenever he had existed, was one that did not yet know the things that he did now, one that had found something that his truest self had not.
Happiness.
And it was clear, as this version of the god of mischief spoke, where that came from.
"Dearest Starlight, have you the faintest idea of how much I've missed you?"
He muttered into the hair of the woman standing before him, one arm wrapped around her while the other cupped the back of her head gently, lovingly, and with such fondness that it almost hurt to watch
This was a man overcome with, and undoubtedly changed by love.
They could see it in his eyes and the way that they lit up when the woman, whoever she was, moved away slightly to look up at him, and in the way that he pressed his forehead to hers with such love and clearly intentional gentleness.
He adored this person standing before him, and judging by the tears brimming in Thor's blue eyes, she was far more than a simple dream, or someone made up by the mind to have and to hold.
No, this was someone that they had known, perhaps long ago, perhaps yesterday, for the timing itself mattered ever so little.
What mattered instead, was that this individual, whoever she was, meant the world and more to the very person that the onlooking crowd had once believed to be devoid of the organ capable of love and affection.
She was important, and she was special, and above all else, she was seemingly a vast source of grief for the two son's of Odin, though one in particular far more than the other, the latter of which stood amongst them with a sadness that was almost assuredly not for himself evident within his gaze.
Thor may have known this girl, whoever she may be or have been, but his tears were not for his own loss of her, no, they were instead for Loki's. He watched the two of them with such rapt and sad fondness that it was all but impossible to deny that fact.
He adored what the two of them shared, and mourned its absence.
And in truth, the unwelcome onlookers could not help but feel similarly.
This woman was beautiful to be sure, with shining hair and twinkling eyes, and a gentle touch that she laid upon the deity standing before her with such care and devotion.
She smiled up at him lovingly, mouth still curved upward even as she spoke, her reply teasing, but far from mockery, mischievous in a way that was befitting of any love of Loki Laufeyson.
"Just me?"
She asked amusedly, carting her fingers through the god's soft black locks and watching with gentle laughter as he simply rolled his eyes in response before he leaned down to kiss her sweetly without a single word, the arm that was still wrapped around her waist tugging her closer before he finally pulled away a few seconds later, joy obvious within his expression, in spite of her ardent teasing.
"Do not ask me such foolish questions, my dear, or I may just be required to seal your lips against mine for all eternity to keep you quiet."
He murmured with his forehead pressed against hers, his nose brushing against her cheek for a few moments until he pulled back with a sigh,
"I suppose I should change before I make myself at home again, hmm?"
He asked with mock exasperation, tucking a few strands of the woman's hair behind her ear as she laughed in reply, nodding almost immediately.
"That would most certainly make me a happy wife, indeed."
She said, pulling further away from him before walking over to the kitchen area and removing something from the oven,
"Now hurry up and change before dinner gets too cold, foolish prince, or you may just find Thor helping himself to your portion again."
Loki gave an amused glare in response to this, but said nothing more, wandering swiftly down a long and dark hallway until he faded from view entirely.
After this, there was silence for a minute or two, a peaceful and joyous one that was occasionally interrupted by the sound of the woman's gentle humming, or one of a few a small noises from further down the hall, none of which seemed important enough to capture the woman in question's attention.
That being said, as Loki returned, something else did, though it notably grabbed hold of that of the audience as well, who stared on together in shock, though Thor was clearly the most baffled of them all.
For there was Loki Laufeyson, adopted son of Odin, Prince of Asgard, and god of mischief, with a child on his hip, one with hair the very color of his, and eyes that were an exact copy of his own.
The woman standing in the kitchen crossed her arms upon her husband's entrance into the room, raising a brow at him as she sighed and approached the two beings who had just graced her with their presence.
"And what business do you believe our daughter has with being up so late, Mr. Laufeyson?"
She questioned teasingly as she pressed a gentle kiss to the head of the little girl who was being held so affectionately within her father's arms, a sweet burble of laughter escaping her as the woman's lips tickled her skin.
The audience watched on in utter shock as Loki smiled softly at the sight, his shoulders shrugging slightly as he bounced the child, who appeared to be around a year old, upon his hip, arms keeping her steady with a well practiced and easy grace found only within a parent that had been present and involved enough to know their child like the back of their hand.
"I believe she has business with welcoming her dear father home regardless of the hour. Would you disagree, Mrs. Laufeyson?"
He murmured gently as he leaned forward to press a lingering kiss against his wife's lips, smirking at the sight of her reddened cheeks as he pulled away.
The wife in question sputtered for a brief moment before finally responding, glaring slightly up at the god of mischief for his antics, though they were no doubt familiar to her by now, judging by the ring wrapped around her finger and the child she had so plainly bore that sat now upon her husband's hip.
"I suppose not."
She replied gently, watching as Loki placed the child into her high chair, offering a toy of his very own creation to distract her with as he approached his spouse with a rather eager grin.
"No?"
He asked softly as he moved to stand behind her, his hands finding her shoulders and massaging the tense muscles there gently, his smile only growing as she sighed at the feeling and leaned into him with a practiced ease borne clearly of a long nurtured trust.
"How kind of you to see things my way for once, dear wife."
He murmured against the shell of the woman's ear, sending a shiver down her spine even as she rolled her eyes in response to his overly teasing tone and his seemingly ceaseless need to make an attempt at pushing her buttons.
"I wouldn't go as far as to say that, my prince."
She sighed out, still clearly pleased with the feeling of his hands rubbing practiced and efficient circles into her skin,
"I am simply allowing you this one small victory while you may still have it."
The god of mischief smirked upon hearing this, his brow raised and his voice low as he replied,
"Allowing me, hmm? What a benevolent ruler you are, starlight."
He all but purred out, and the woman nodded absently, still clearly wrapped up in the feeling of his hands on her body.
"Aren't I?"
She asked, a smile growing upon her face as she spoke,
"Allowing you to wake up our one year old daughter upon your return before you're forced to cease such childish behaviors once your son arrives in a few months time. How generous of me."
Loki hummed and replaced one of his hands that had been resting upon her shoulder with his chin, allowing his now free hand to travel down to her stomach, pressing against it and providing the opportunity for the onlookers to note for the very first time the way that it was rounded out slightly with child, yet another piece of evidence of the love that they shared.
A love that the Loki Laufeyson that they knew, the one that had been captured, imprisoned, and seemingly rehabilitated, had never known.
A love that he perhaps could have had, if only things had been different.
Slowly, faintly, at the sounds of softening laughter and contented discussions, the scene before everyone faded, and the harsh light of the tower persisted once more, blinding them all sharply in a way that the softness of the vision had not managed.
And there, before all of them, stood Loki, looking more than a little haggard with his hair out of place and his eyes brimming with tears.
It was Thor who spoke first.
"It was that which you saw, brother?"
He asked sympathetically, only for Loki to shake his head in response, tone far less angry and much more despondent as he spoke.
The sight of that vision, that memory of a dream delivered unto him one harsh evening to teach him some horrible lesson, had clearly hurt him far more than he wished to let on, and perhaps even more than he had thought it would.
"No."
He said,
"What I saw was far worse, I'm afraid."
Thor's eyebrows creased with both concern and confusion,
"Worse? Brother, I do not-"
"I had entire life with her, Thor."
Loki murmured gently, staring down at his own two shaking hands as if in disbelief that they belonged to him at all,
"I-I had thought truly that everything, all of this suffering and self-hatred had been the real dream all along, and that my time with her, beginning from back when we were all just children again, was reality."
He looked into his brother's eyes then, and allowed him to see the pain there, the sadness and longing for a life he had once believed himself to have lived, a life where he had chosen differently, and found better.
"I did everything the very same as in this lifetime, except instead of choosing power, or some poorly perceived form of acceptance at the hands of our father, I chose her every single time. I married her, brother, stood at the altar and watched her come to me, watched her be granted her rightful immortality at my side, built a house with her, for her, gave her a daughter, and a son, and many other children who I cannot bear to think about because I am in ruin over the fact that they were never real."
He paused, chest heaving, eyes never leaving those of his brother before finally, he continued,
"I know their names, Thor."
He choked out,
"The names of my children, every son and daughter born with some combination of my eyes and her smile, or her hair and my nose. I know their favorite foods, the toy they prefer over all of the rest, and the song that their mother would sing to put them to sleep the fastest."
His tears were beginning to run now, though if Loki noticed, he did not move to wipe them away or to hide them.
"I know everything about them, and yet they are not here, never were, and never will be, and it feels like I have lost all that I ever deigned to love. My wife, my children, a version of myself that I did not loathe, they are all lost to me, and I have died a thousand deaths for every waking moment spent without them by my side."
Thor's own eyes had grown teary now, and he stepped forward slowly, his arm outstretched, as if hoping to reach into his brother and take this pain away with his bare hands alone.
"Dear brother, forgive me."
He said softly, voice shaky in a way that was so very uncharacteristic of him,
"I did not know, I swear it."
Loki shook his head, some shadow of a smile, pained and without any semblance of joy finding his face,
"I know, Thor."
He said quietly,
"But do not waste your apologies on me. It is not your fault for not truly knowing, but mine for believing I could have her back again. She is gone, and I should have known that I could only ever have her in dreams."
Thor opened his mouth to speak, his expression flooded with sorrow, only to find that there was nothing that he could say.
The bridge to you was one that his brother had burned a long time ago, which had been lying in embers since.
Was he not right that you were largely gone from him? A memory of perhaps undeserved yet so very innocent love that he had shut out in order to keep moving forward until the gods had thrust what the two of you could have been upon him so cruelly?
It had been ages now, since Loki had seen or heard of you, and Thor was ashamed to admit that he too had locked you away in memory in favor of moving forward.
A childhood playmate, a most loyal friend far past adulthood, the once almost-lover of his mischievous younger brother, you were a great many things to him, and yet he could scarcely bear to think of you now.
Betrayal was what he had once thought of whenever you came to mind, but now, so many years later, he could see that you had never been the one to betray.
It had been him all along, him and Loki, albeit for two differing reasons.
Either way, the little witch they had once both known so fondly had been long dead to them for many moons now, until the very sight of you so happy, so alive, in spite of the fact that such a vision was a dream brought on by some vengeful deity, sent you careening back into their minds once more.
Where were you now? How had you fared without them, and possibly without your family as well? Were you even alive at all, after all of this time with only a witchling's feeble immortality to keep you alive rather than the godly kind that Loki had helped to bestow upon you within his dream?
Thor shook off these thoughts almost as quickly as they came, and watched on helplessly as Loki began to make his way toward the exit, eyes glued to the ground to avoid making eye contact with the small group of Avengers who had continued to watch on in surprise.
And perhaps, one of them may have piped up to say something, anything to provide comfort to the once so pesky god, had it not been for the sudden shift in the air, followed shortly thereafter by the very shredding of reality itself, as a tear opened up on the far wall, revealing a dark shimmering swirl of colors and lights that soon spat out a figure adorned in clothing that may have appeared foreign to any Midgardian, but was so very familiar to the one aesir god who stared on in utter shock.
Loki, on the other hand, seemed either entirely unaware of the strange circumstance occurring behind him, or uncaring of it, as he continued on his quest to leave the room entirely.
That is, until a voice so familiar that it all but snapped his heart in two called out to him.
"L-Loki?"
It asked weakly, strained and soft, but just barely loud enough to reach him where he stood.
The average man may have froze up entirely, disbelieving their own ears and blaming their minds for playing such cruel tricks on them, but Loki was no average man, and he did not believe his mind capable of making such a mistake.
He knew what he had heard.
He turned around instantly, already wide eyes growing wider when he found you on the floor there, an old cloak of his wrapped tightly around your shoulders.
"Starlight?"
He breathed out in utter disbelief, making his way over in just a few long and intentional strides before he all but collapsed to his knees in front of you.
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AO3 kudos and comments - a very English polite request 🖤
I was thinking about the people who create today - those who write fan fiction or those who draw and paint and make digital fan art.
Thinking about the people who spend hours upon hours of their spare time making these amazing and beautiful things purely for fun and out of the kindness of their hearts.
They do it for FREE, guys. They bare their very souls onto the paper or the screen for your consumption (and for their own sanity, more often than not), for absolutely ZERO financial gain.
Do you know what all of these people have in common?
They absolutely love the ever loving shit out of getting a little kudos or a little reblog or a little comment on their work, letting them know that they're appreciated and that someone besides themselves enjoyed what they created.
It takes a mere second to hit the kudos button on AO3 and a couple more to leave a comment. But that little act of recognition? That will fuel a writer or an artist or a cosplayer for hours, days, weeks to come. It will spur them on to create more magnificent stuff and it will give them a little boost also.
So yeah, I guess all I'm saying is that it costs nothing to show a little bit of love to your favourite creators either on Tumblr or on AO3 or wherever.
I'm maybe being dramatic, but I'm asking the consumers of these pieces of our souls to please, please, PLEASE hit that kudos or that like or that reblog button.
Please leave a little comment saying, "I loved this!" or, "🖤🖤🖤" or, "skfheksksjdhffnakdhd!!!" 😅
Please just share the love and all of the creators will go to bed happy and well fed and ready to create another day 🥰
Thanks for reading my random brain rambles and reblogs would be fantastic please and thank you! 🖤🖤🖤
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Jackson Era Joel x reader Fluffy Smut OneShot:
Morning Wood
General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given.
Specific Warnings: PiV sex, Oral (F Receiving), pet names(Sugar), No use of Y/N, No age gap, Jackson Era Joel x Reader, mentions of Infected (clickers), let me know if I missed anything?
A/N: I hope you like this fluffy smut! I am honestly really proud of it aha! Let me know what you think!
Dividers by @idontgetanysleep
[Read on AO3]
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Joel Miller doesn’t get morning wood, ever. Not in the three years you’d been together in Jackson, and according to him, long before that. This fact seemed of little consequence to you, that is until you woke up this morning as he practically humped you awake.
“Joel?” You whisper into the dark room you share, light bleeding in across the sky as you look out the window. It can’t be later than six and you were really looking forward to a lie in.
Joel doesn’t answer verbally, but the hand that is wrapped around your middle tightens, pulling you harder against him, and his pre-come smeared tip. You stifle a whine, not wanting to wake Joel as, like you, he deserved a lie in. You’d come off patrol a day late, soaked through, and exhausted. You and Joel had been ambushed by clickers, it had been a desperate, horrifying battle for your lives. You both deserve to sleep in after that.
But the way Joel’s beard scrapes along your shoulder, the hardness pressing into the small of your back, the way his soft snores fan heat across your skin, it threatens to drive you insane. You very gently try to prise his arm from around your middle, no luck. If anything he snuggles you in tighter, a strong thigh moving over yours and pinning you in place.
You whimper at the all consuming need filling your every sense. The press of Joel’s warm, strong body caging you in, the smell of the soap you both use, the perspiration heavy on the sheets and the sound of his contented snoring. You think you’re going to go insane.
“Joel, please.” You whine, shamefully pressing your ass back against him, moaning at the way his shaft slides between your cheeks. You have to wake him up, either to go and sleep in the spare room, or so you can beg him to fuck you. Your sanity depends on it either way.
“Hmmm?” Joel groans into your shoulder and you can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips this time. Joel tenses behind you and you hold your breath.
“You ok there sugar?” Joel’s voice is thick with sleep as you feel him stir behind you, “Well, I’ll be damned.” He says with awe as he realises how painfully hard he is.
“I’m fine, go back to sleep.” You respond, embarrassment burning a hole in your chest as you bury your face in the sheets.
“Don’t think I can just yet,” He says with a chuckle as his arm loosens on your waist, “This what you were whimpering ‘bout so sweetly sugar?” He asks as he shifts on the bed, lips brushing your ear as he brings his hand up to brush your jaw. Your breath hitches in your throat as he presses the head of his cock against your asshole, prodding at your tight ring as you let out a soft gasp.
“Sorry Joel, didn’t mean to wake you, f-fuuuuck.” You groan as he takes your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, twisting a mewl out of you as the pressure teeters on the fine line between pleasure and pain, just how you like it.
“Well, ‘m awake now,” He drawls as he releases your stiffened peak, trailing his hand down your sternum, the scrape of his calloused fingers pulling sharp gasps from your mouth as he reaches your soaked folds, “Seems like you’re pretty awake too huh?”
“S’what waking up with a beautiful cock shoved into your back does to a person.” You joke and the rumble of laughter from Joel ripples though you as it drips heat down to your core.
“No complaints here sugar, now, on your back.” He says softly, it’s an order, but you know you can refuse. Joel always wants you to be comfortable, in control, happy. It’s all he wants, even if he never say it outright. He shows it to you at times like this.
Wordlessly he shifts so he’s prone on the bed, head just too far away from you as he spreads your legs for him coaxing your calves over his shoulders so he can get closer. His hands run up and down your thighs gun-calloused hands sending shivers up and down your spine, goosebumps pebbling along your flesh as warmth spreads through you.
“Never get tired of this view,” Joel murmurs as he blows gently on your clit, hovering just close enough to your sex that your thighs quiver, “You’re so beautiful, y’know that?” He asks, voice low, husky as he licks a soft, featherlight stripe up your seam, flicking firmly against your clit as he reaches it. You moan and arch up, unable to answer his, clearly rhetorical, question.
He swirls his tongue languidly around your clit as he brings a finger to your entrance, notching it there, not pressing any further as he teases your hole. He sucks softly on your sensitive bud as you run your fingers through his greying hair, scraping your nails along his scalp, pulling a soft moan from his lips.
“Going to come for me sugar?” He goads you, dark eyes meeting your gaze as you look down at him.
“Fuck yeah, but please, need your fingers Joel.” You beg and Joel obliges, pressing a single digit in all the way to the knuckle, taking his time to pump in and out of you, making sure you’re ready for a second.
“Love how you squeeze me sugar, ready for the second?” He asks as he places soft, wet kisses to your inner thigh, easing you through it as always.
“Please.” You say as you feel the delightful burn as he stretches you out, thick fingers pressing deep into you as he presses against that sweet spot deep inside you he seems to have committed to memory.
“Always so sweet, so polite, fuck.” Joel moans into your clit, the brush of his beard against your sensitive folds adding to the stimulation as he laps sloppily against your clit. The pulse of sensation radiates from your core as you feel your orgasm building, like a slow spill of hot liquid, soaking into your skin, penetrating into your bones as Joel pulls your closer and closer to the brink.
Then it snaps, like a frayed rope, twisting tightly before severance, you cry out as you quake through the mind-numbing sensation that shoots through your veins like ice so cold it burns. Your release has you repeating Joel’s name in soft moans as he works you through it keeping up the steady rhythm with his fingers as he mumbles sweet praises against your thighs.
“You sound so good when you come sugar, squeeze me so tight, you got another in you?”
“Please, need you in me.” You whine and Joel doesn’t waste any time, he lines himself up, guiding your legs over his shoulders as he presses at your wet heat. It’s a soft, half-hearted mating press, but it’s perfect, the angle just right, your cunt just pressed tightly enough that you feel the burn, but not so tight to hurt.
“Love you sugar.” Joel says softly as he breaches you a little, one hand falling to your clit, the other to the curve of your jaw.
“Love you too Joel, love you so much.” You babble but there’s an earnestness to both of your evocations. You’d both said it before, sure, but this? It’s intense, still in the throes of shock from a near-death encounter, and you both need to say it now, as you join, fused together.
There’s something transient about it all, the way you fluctuate against one another during sex, teeth sinking into skin, nails digging in, marks, the delicious anticipation of being so full of Joel. But today it’s different, but you don’t think it’s to do with the clickers, nor the hard patrol.
It’s you, you and Joel seeking the most intimate comfort together, bleeding into each other like spilled ink on a ruined canvas. Then he pushes into you and you groan at the intrusion, you love the way he stretches you out, no matter how much prep, you always feel like you’re being split in two.
“Always take me so well,” Joel says as he eases himself into you, letting you adjust a little before giving you more, “Don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you sugar.” He mutters to himself as he bottoms out, his body heavy over you, the tip of his cock pressing into that sweet spot that makes you see stars. You’re blissed out as you cup his jaw, his patchy beard soft under your fingers as you take in the handsome man above you. The curve of his strong nose, patchy salt and pepper beard, deep chocolate brown eyes. He’s easily the most handsome man you’ve ever met, even before the end of the world.
“Not about deserving me Joel, s’about us wanting each other, loving each other, you make me so happy, that’s all I want, to make you happy too.” You pull him down to kiss you as he rolls his hips slowly, you whimper at the way his mouth claims yours. His thick tongue toying with yours as you buck your hips to meet Joel’s slow press of his cock inside you.
“Fucking beautiful.” He murmurs as he pulls back, nuzzling your palm.
“As much as I love it when you’re soppy and sweet,” You start and Joel raises an eyebrow at you, a smirk playing on his lips, “I really need you to fuck me, hard.” You say breathily as you feel him twitch inside you, brushing your cervix as he groans.
“As you wish sugar.” He growls as he presses your legs up against your chest, the angle of his cock impossibly deep as you drop your hand to your clit. As soon as Joel picks up the pace you try and match it with practiced motions on your clit.
For a man his age, Joel sure can still fuck, though it’s not like life in Jackson allows anyone to get soft. You gasp as he fucks into you hard, his balls slapping against your ass as you feel the heat slide down your spine, your cunt throbbing as you cry out with every hard, brutal thrust.
“Fuck yes Joel, gonna-!” Your strangled moan cuts you off as you feel yourself come hard. You cry out and Joel’s last few thrusts stutter as you clench hard around him, your hands fly to his shoulders, fingertips digging blunt half-moon marks into his skin as he paints your walls with his spend. Your body trembles as he ruts into you a few more times, easing you through your release, pulling mewls of overstimulation from you as you flop back against the pillows.
Joel groans and you hear his knee click and pop as he pulls out slowly, rolling onto his back next to you as you both pant in the relative silence for a few minutes. Both riding out the high of your releases as Joel’s large hand finds yours, lacing his large fingers through yours.
“Gettin’ too old for this.” Joel grumbles and you smile.
“Say that every time, and here you are getting morning wood like a teenager.” You tease, squeezing his hand before pulling away. You freshen up quickly in the bathroom, bringing a warm washcloth with you for Joel, he cleans up and throws it in the laundry hamper before pulling you into a tight embrace.
“Love you sugar.” Joel mumbles against your forehead as he places a lingering kiss there.
“Love you too Joel, now I’m having a lie in, and if anyone wakes me before noon there’ll be hell to pay.” You grumble as you shut your eyes.
“Noted, no more morning wood.” He chuckles as he pulls the sheets around you.
“I didn’t say never… Just give me a few hours.” You retort and bury your head into Joel’s chest, his head resting atop yours before both of your eyes fall shut.
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Tags: @yvonneeeee @notsosecretspy @jadealicious06 @famouslyanonymous @harriedandharassed @casa-boiardi @pimosworld @brittmb115 @bitchwitch1981 @cool-iguana
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beelmons · 11 months
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Just want Luke Alvez to spell out his name with his tongue against me. I'm a simple woman, with simple needs. No hands, all mouth. my cunnilingus king
no cause this is what i call having taste !
i accidentally posted this without finishing and im going insane trying to speed write it skckwkckwkf DOMT LOOK UNDER READ MORE
Edit: Okay NOW you can look.
cw: oral sex fem receiving, fem!reader
Some people paid billions of dollars to reach space and experience the wonders of the universe, and yet, it only took a heavily underpaid FBI agent to get you to see stars.
Luke Alvez was not a man to eat women out, oh no, he was the one to straight up devour them. Like an avid critic ready to cater his next meal, he would time and again bury himself in between your legs; no further aid needed whatsoever, a dedicated mouth could take you to places you were sure mortals couldn't reach.
It made you suspicious, to be honest. How could a man be so good at pleasing a woman? The only way it made sense was if he had done it hundreds of times before, but taking his time while in deployment and current new schedule in consideration, he wouldn't only have to be dedicated to it, he would have had to straight up clone himself to take two women at a time on the little time he had to spare.
He could do it, to be fair, without the need of cloning himself, after all he had his charm. You don't just open your legs for anyone on the first date, let alone the first thirty minutes of meeting them. He was a witty gentleman, and not hard on the eye at all.
Soon you would find out that his sharp tongue wasn't only skillful on the streets. Something about the way he so passionately licked you thoroughly each time. Or how he moaned along everytime he hit a good spot. Or the weird combination of strokes he pulled at the end, the one that never failed to push you over the edge.
You had to find out what it was, because you were starting to think it was not human. And tonight, as your apartment was filled with lewd slurping sounds, you were set on finding it out.
One little problem, keeping your sanity as his tongue, somehow, reached your sweetest spots was no easy task. It took all of your energy and some holding back from straight up cumming into his mouth without warning. Your face was clenched in what seemed more like pain than pleasure. But your climax was reaching, you were so close, just as close as you were to figuring out what the hell he did at the end, so close, so close.
"Babe, are you alright?" he pulled away to ask.
"No!" you yelled in anger almost instinctively, and certainly without intention.
He was clearly taken aback by your reaction, and the second you noticed his clear confusion, you spoke up again.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." you said, reaching to have your hand land on his hair, not wanting him to be too far from your cunt "I was just so close."
"Sorry, you looked like you were in pain, so..." he tried to explain before you cut him off.
"I was focused." you clarified.
"Focused?" his brows furrowed "Listen, if you have to focus to cum... I'd rather you tell me what I'm doing wrong."
"No. What? Come on Luke, you can't be serious." you complained "I was focused on figuring out what the hell it is that you always do, that it makes my brain be reduced to a pulp!"
You certainly didn't mean it as a praise, but he still found a way to interpret it as such. He broke into a shy chuckle as he shook his head.
"I can tell you" he said "But you have to promise not to laugh."
"Why would I-" you were about to inquire, but he cut you off.
"I spell my name with my tongue." he finally admitted.
"You are kidding." your eyes opened in genuine surprise. It sounded so stupid right off the bat, even more so when you considered the possibility of being true.
Your free hand reached down to have your middle digit trail over your own clit, you were moist enough thanks to him, so nothing else was needed. You began making an experiment of your own.
L U K E A L-
Sure, it felt good, but nothing out of the ordinary.
"Not like that!" he quickly grabbed at your wrist to pull it away "It's not the same if you use fingers, and I'm afraid there is one more secret to it."
You were attentively looking at him talk, so you were able to see his face disappear between your legs. You thought after the break you wouldn't be so sensitive, but boy were you wrong. The second the tip of his tongue landed on your bundle of nerves again, your legs began to shake. Like no time had passed.
You tried your best to pay attention, you really did.
Luke Alvez
But you lost track after the 'K'.
Next thing you knew, you were dripping down in your own release, and he was doing his best to have nothing go to waste.
Your chest was raising up and down from the pants. Legs limb and tired against his shoulders. Once he was satisfied with the clean up, he raised his head yet again. His characteristic, slightly annoying, cheeky grin clear on his face.
"I do it in cursive."
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thedeviltohisangel · 24 days
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For A Fortnight There We Were: He Got My Heartbeat
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a/n: EV AND CAL ARE BACK! the response to the first one shot of this was so crazy and became so popular and I could have never imagined! this takes place back on the MOTA set when they start to wonder if they really are started to feel tingly for each other or if the characters are bleeding into their lives. please shoot me any requests for future one shots or blurbs since I love being able to fill in all the little blanks for you guys. standing by to chat about these two (or callum in general lbr) and am thinking of add austin x popstar!oc to this universe? idk, let me know your thoughts. love you all and see you on the flip side...
She heard the sound of the director cutting and ignored it anyway. He did too. Evelyn used the arm around his neck to pull him closer and prevent his lips from slipping off of hers. Her hips shifted forward on their own accord and she felt something twitch between her legs. 
“Jesus, fuck-Ev, I’m sorry-”
“-oh, God, it’s my fault-” She fell backwards off the chaise as she hurried to scramble out of his lap. 
“No, Evelyn, don’t, it’s fine!” Callum was racing to grab the abandoned bed sheet from the ground as she was struggling to conceal her chest from the production crew. “Can someone get her a fucking robe?” he yelled as he was finally able to wrap her in the polyester. 
“Please don’t touch me.” Her shoulder shrugged quickly to rid his hand from her skin. Her lips were still burning from his kisses. Her nose on fire from where it had nuzzled with his. Her chin and waist aching for the feel of his hands again. She doesn’t think she would be able to hold onto her sanity if his hands were on her ever again. 
“I’m sorry.” He held his hands up in surrender as a PA emerged with a fluffy white bathrobe for her to tuck her arms into. Not a glance from her was spared his direction as she stood and hurried off the set. 
Callum hung his head between his legs as they offered him a robe but he had no motivation to grab it. He was only able to think how stupid he was. How silly it was to let himself get lost in the sensation of kissing her and touching her and making love to her. It was all acting and for the camera and none of it was real but it had felt so tangible. Like even after she pulled away he could still reach out and grab it and keep it and never let it go. But he had fucking ruined it because he wasn’t able to control his arousal for her. 
“Falling in love with your co-star…not always the best choice. Especially when they happen to be married.” He scoffed at Tom’s words as he sat next to him, pulled on the robe to protect his modesty in front of one of his heroes.
“I’m not in love with her,” he mumbled around the lump in his throat. “We’re just friends.” The hotel room set was quiet now. Tom had cleared it out as he watched the two young actors fall apart right in front of him. The intimacy had been a step too close to what they really craved to maintain any sense of stability. 
“I see,” he responded with a nod. They had said cut nearly five whole minutes before the two of them had even thought to stop. The intimacy coordinator had watched the scene playout with a perplexed look as none of the choreography had been followed, they had just kissed and groaned and moved their hips the way that had felt right and normal and it had worked perfectly. It had felt like they had been doing it forever. Like they were meant to. “Sometimes, lines get blurred on projects. It’s okay to admit that to each other.”
“And, hypothetically, how would one tell if the lines between the characters and the actors are blurring or if the feelings are real regardless of the character?”
“Hypothetically?”
“Completely.”
“You talk to each other.” Callum chuckled. Sometimes the simplest answer was the correct one. 
“She didn’t seem like she wanted to talk to me.” The look on her face when he had tried to reach out and comfort her would haunt him. The rejection slapping across his face like a biting cold wind. The way he had bared his soul just an inch to try and connect to her and protect her and she turned him away easily.
“Give her time. Everything you are feeling is amplified for her. A few more complications.” Evelyn was in the middle of a very public legal fight. There were houses and cars and a plane to divide and assign value to and storage units of furniture and designer clothing. Businesses they had invested in together and land they had purchased to build a life on.
“Maybe it’s not worth it. Maybe I let sleeping dogs lie.” Callum had already watched the way phone calls with her lawyers and emails from her manager and texts from her ex took a toll on her day in and day out. It would be unfair of him to add one more burden to her shoulders. 
“Or maybe you don’t and it turns out to be the best decision of your life, Callum.” Maybe it was the start of a fairytale. Maybe it was the love that they both were meant to have in their life. Maybe it was the kind of love that could soothe the ache in their chest and fill the hole in their heart and mend the cracks in their souls. 
Maybe it was exactly what they both needed.
----
The binder of her lines for the next day of shooting was sitting in her lap as her hairstylist brushed out her 1940s era curls but they just looked like blurry letters on the page. All she could think about was the look on Callum’s face when she had recoiled from his touch. She thinks he looked genuinely hurt. Like she was rejecting a vulnerable piece of him that he had offered. 
“Is it a bad idea to go apologize to him?” she asked the trailer full of people. They had all been quiet from the moment she entered and had been waiting for her to talk first. “Like, do I just leave it be or do I go say something?” 
“Are you just saying sorry or are you trying to talk about why it went down like that?” her assistant asked. Evelyn chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about, leaning back in her chair and shoving the binder onto the vanity. 
“It’s only going to get more awkward if we don’t do the latter.” With a sigh, she grabbed her water bottle and got down from the chair. “I’m going to put on something comfy then go see if he’s in his trailer. Can someone practice with me on how to not say that I’m confusing the characters relationship and emotions for real life?”
“Or you just be honest that maybe all your feelings are real life. He’s giving it right back, Ev, we’ve all seen it.” 
“And then what happens? I ask him to twiddle his fucking thumbs while Logan drags me through court for the rest of my life?” She tucked her feet into a pair of UGGs and grabbed her phone from where it was charging. “No matter if anything is going on between Cal and I, he deserves better than what I have to offer him or anyone right now.” There was no reason to drag someone she cared about as much as him into this mess. No reason to ruin whatever relationship they currently had if she didn’t have to. Evelyn had gotten used to seeing him and Golo at the end of every day and running lines and laughing while taking a smoke break when they all got food delivered and hung out as a group. He was always sending her some funny video saying it reminded him of her and teasing her about how his mustache tickled her when they kissed and she was happy around him in a way she hadn’t been in a long time. 
“Ev? Did you hear what Tracy said?” 
“No, I was-” She stopped when they were all smiling at her like they knew all her secrets. “Whatever. None of you are helping. I’ll just fucking wing it and see you later.” Evelyn took a few deep breaths of fresh air and walked to the trailer in question only a few yards away, Golo popping his head into the window and barking once when he noticed her arrival. 
“My Evelyn door bell was ringing.” Callum opened the door before she had the chance to knock and her momentary freeze was interrupted by the dog that was eager for her attention. 
“Hi, baby,” she cooed as she squatted to scratch at his ears and laugh around his kisses. “It’s only been a couple days, Golo!” 
“He told me you give the best belly scratches and he wants them everyday,” Callum said as he leaned his back against the doorway. “You want to come in or you just swung by to see this one?” She stood up and pulled her sweatshirt down to cover her exposed skin.
“I wanted to talk about earlier. Unless now isn’t a good time or unless you didn’t want to talk about it all.” He paused for a beat as he thought about the two options she had just presented. One offered an understanding of whatever it was that was palpable between them. There would be no more guessing. But there was the trap. Because if the answer was that the lines had just blurred. That the tension was based in the characters and only existed on set, then he would rather not know. He would rather float through the turmoil of not knowing because at least his heart had a chance at remaining whole.
“No, we can talk about it.” Callum opened the door wider and stepped to the side as she and his dog crossed the threshold. “You want a bottle of water? Something else?” 
“Just water is fine.” Evelyn sat in a chair and wiped her sweaty palms on the top of her thighs. He handed her a bottle of water and leaned against the wall opposite. “I, uh, I wanted to apologize for how I acted earlier. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that, I know it was just an accident. And it was my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have deviated from what we discussed with the intimacy coordinator. That is what they are here for and it was inappropriate of me to…do what I did.” Kiss him like it was real. Move her hips in the hopes she would catch some friction between her legs. Observe the look on his face as he had acted out his orgasm. She had never found the way Logan looked when he came particularly mesmerizing. But that’s how she would describe the feeling of looking at Callum.
“Takes two to tango. Nothing to apologize for.” He looked down at his feet and Evelyn sat, waiting for him to say something more. Something further. Anything. 
“Ok. Yeah, ok. I’ll get out of here.” She stood and stared at him for a beat but he seemed incapable of looking at her. She probably disgusted him. Just wanted her to promise to never do it again so he could move on with his life and his career. And the quicker she left, the quicker she could go to her rental flat and cry in the shower with a bottle of white wine. 
Her right hand was around the doorknob when his hand encircled her left wrist. She paused.
“It’s not just the characters bleeding into my thoughts and actions,” he whispered as her eyes closed and her forehead rested against the door. “My feelings for you are as real they fucking get.”
“Callum…”
“I know. I know. Tell me to get over it and I will, Ev. Tell me you only view me as a friend and I will work every goddamn to get over it to keep you in my life. Tell me I am losing my mind.” Evelyn was breathless as she was trying to find the courage to turn and face him. The grip on her wrist was loosening, Cal admitting defeat and letting her go, so she turned and slipped her hand so it was holding his instead.
“You are losing your mind. But I guess I am too.” He looked up at her with eyebrows raised in surprise. A step forward closed any gap between them. “My life…my life is so complicated right now. And you don’t deserve being dragged into that.” They both ached to touch each other but didn’t want to upset the current balance between them. 
“I don’t want to complicate things for you. That is the last thing I would ever want,” he breathed. 
“But I also don’t know when things will ever not be complicated. Logan…he’s dragging things out. Trying to suck me dry. Trying to make me suffer.” Everyone around her was telling her that he was trying to bully her into getting back with him. That he didn’t want this divorce in the first place and would make her life so miserable until she cracked and broke down and went crawling back to him. 
“You tell me what you want to do, Ev. I’ll wait if you ask me to. Wait until the timing is right and we can try to do this the right way.” It would pain him to wait but at least he would know she was waiting on the other side. Having her at arm's length was better than not having her at all.
“Or.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and she brought a shaking, unsure hand to his cheek. Callum’s mouth parted at the contact, his own hand resting on top of hers as he felt like he could drop to his knees and worship her at the simple contact alone. “Or I stop letting him dictate a single second of my life. And we go do something sickeningly normal tomorrow night. Just the two of us.”
“Austin will be heartbroken,” he teased. She giggled. “I can take you to my favorite pub in Chelsea. They can be discrete.” 
“Ok.”
“Ok.” Her hand dropped from his cheek and she took a step back towards the door. 
“I’ll see you bright and early, Mr. Turner.” 
“Counting down the seconds, Ms. Shaw.” She turned away from him with a twinkling laugh and exited with a goodbye to Golo as well. “I’ve got a date tomorrow, mate. What the fuck do I wear?” Golo merely blinked at him. 
He doesn’t know how he had managed to reach the heights he was currently soaring to. The most beautiful woman on the planet asking him to take her to a pub. The most talented woman on the planet touching him like he was precious porcelain. He would do anything just for her eyes to land on him. His chest ached to protect her and care for her and let her know she was never alone because she would always have him. The weight of what tomorrow night could mean for him and for her and for a potential future resting on his shoulders. He planned to rise to the challenge just like she deserved. Fight for her to heal. Fight for her to find peace and love.
Fight for their love story to end with the three words she deserved more than anything.
Happily ever after.
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dragon-ascent · 1 year
Text
The novel
You happen upon a cheesy novel about Rex Lapis...so of course you show it to Zhongli.
★彡flustered zhongli, mentions of sex and spiciness but just trust me it's fluff
The first thing you do when you return home is kiss Zhongli and say, "Guess what I found!"
Zhongli, smiling at your enthusiasm, cocks his head slightly. "What did you find, darling?"
Grinning deviously, you set a book down on the table. "Gold, my love, literal gold!" Your husband glances over at the cover of the book.
"What is-" His smile falters and his cheeks heat up as he takes in the...rather suggestive illustration. It depicts Rex Lapis in partial human form, with long golden horns and a brown tail, holding in what seems to be a death grip a petite young woman wearing a sheer nightgown. Also, Rex Lapis is shirtless.
"Morax is my Mate," you read the title aloud for him, "it's a sappy, crappy romance fanfiction about you and some random female OC!"
Your husband blinks. "Romance? I - he looks like he wants to kill her."
You shake your head with a snort. "That sultry look is meant to be hot and threatening towards rivals!"
"Rivals," Zhongli repeats. "What, pray tell, is this story about?"
"It's about this village woman becoming Morax's mate, as the title suggests. Celestia appointed her as such, and thus her ordinary life gets thrown out of whack! And Morax is like, obsessed with her for no reason other than she's his mate. She has no personality outside of biting her lip and tucking her hair behind her ear every other page!"
Zhongli's brow furrows. "I...see..."
"And guess what," you say, flipping the pages until you get to the part you want, "the smut scenes go on for pages and pages! This one in particular spans thirty-four pages."
"Thirty-four!" Zhongli repeats, paling. "And it is one scene! What could these characters possibly be doing?"
You stare him down long and hard, smirking. "Do you really want to know, darling~?"
Zhongli's cheeks go from pale to deep red. "On second thought, I do not wish to-"
"Fingering, overstimulation, tail-play-"
"Oh Celestia, please spare me from-"
"-Edging, double penetration, oral-"
"I have had quite enough of-"
"Bondage, bathtub sex, usage of titles like Sex Lapis-"
"S-Sex Lapis..?" If Zhongli could drop dead right now, it would be because he cringed himself to death. In fact, he sits down to process this.
Trying not to laugh, you sit beside him. "You look a little under the weather, hehe."
Zhongli, rubbing his temples, is the very picture of 'under the weather,' if not more so. If he were human, he would possibly have thrown up at least twice by now. "Give me that," he says, taking the book from you and skimming through the prose for a semblance of sanity.
Except, he only feels more and more nauseous with each paragraph he reads. Forced marking? A competing god? Toxic possessiveness? An uprising that somehow only this heroine with the personality of a broken vase can handle? His closes his eyes and wonders when he can return to the earth as dust.
Watching him intently, you ask as he closes the book with a long sigh, "So what do you think of this book that should totally be illegal?"
"Well..." Zhongli gulps and clears his throat, tapping into his rational side. "Freedom of creation and expression is a fundamental right which the citizens of Liyue are entitled to exercise. This...this novel has been appropriately tagged as a fictional work meant for recreational purposes, and therefore...it does not break any rules. It has every right to exist."
You flash him another devious grin. "Uh-huh. And what do you really think of it, Zhongli?"
He draws in a sharp breath. "It is pure and utter garbage and I sincerely wish to delete this from my memory forever."
"Aww, Sex Lapis doesn't like it?" you tease, poking his cheek.
"No, and I am not Sex Lapis..."
"Sex Lapis! Sex Laaaaapis!" Poke. Poke. Poke.
"Hmph. Are you aiming to be punished like in the novel?"
"Maybe..."
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Text
Alone and Forsaken
Chapter 5 Summary:
You wake the next morning to find Joel gone, your heat now lighting up every nerve ending in your body. Meanwhile Joel, sent into a frenzy by your unexpected visitor, works to fortify your position. After slicing his hand on a piece of barbed wire, he returns to the cabin only to be met with a sight that has his knees weak. Can Joel keep his distance?
Warnings: Bad dreams, brief mentions of past abuse/violence, reader has a fucked up past y'all, heats, hurt/comfort, and SMUT, sooo much smut (Minors, DNI please)
A/N: Howdy y'all! I hope all of you have had an amazing week :) Things are heating up (no pun intended) between you and Joel. But first, a nightmare about reader's time in the pit. As always, take care of yourself first! Trigger warning for the dream but you can scroll through the first bit if that bothers you. Moving forward, major smuttyness brought to you by yours truly, enjoy!
Chapter 5/20
Chapter 5: Hunger
“You know, your mother has been worried sick about you for the past two months.”
The light that framed Josiah’s figure was blinding and you squinted at him as your eyes struggled to adjust to the light. The room that they had been keeping you in was windowless and dark, with cement walls being your only company aside from the guards for the past few weeks. Or was it months? The days blurred together as you wasted away in the pit, the cold hard floor soothing your aching bruises as you tried to keep a hold of your sanity. 
“I guess I should have expected as much, the guards told me that you haven’t been answering their questions no matter what… techniques they use,” he mused, moving forwards into the cell. 
You scooted back, trying to put as much distance between you as you could. Your back hit the wall and you wrapped your arms around your knees, watching as Josiah crouched down in front of you. His pale blue eyes raked over your figure, a look of disgust turning down the corners of his mouth. Josiah sighed, shaking his head before grabbing your face. His bloated fingers pinched your chin and you tried not to wince, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you were uncomfortable. 
“When I took you and your mother in, I had believed you to be a little angel. You were always so sweet as a little girl but the second you presented, I knew that you would be trouble. Always sneaking off with that other omega, defying your mother and I and speaking out of turn,” he tsks, pinching your face until you groaned in pain. 
Josiah let go of your face, pushing your head back so that it smacked against the concrete behind you. A sharp crack of pain made tears begin to form on your lash line, and you tried your hardest not to let them fall as he sneered at you. Josiah stood, towering over you for a moment before moving back to lean against the wall across from you. 
“You know what I said to myself the last time you gave me cheek? I said, Josiah, that girl needs an alpha. A strong one like yourself to keep her in line, someone who keeps the faith and does not spare the rod. Lord knows she needs a good whooping every now and again,” Josiah said. 
A laugh came out of your mouth before you could stop it, the sound broken and hollow from the dryness burning your throat. After the physical punishments had failed, the guards had begun to starve you out. You didn’t even remember the last time you had anything in your system but you knew it was too long as your stomach pinched itself and grumbled for food. 
Josiah cocked an eyebrow at you, glaring down at you before he said, “You will be mated to Paul. He will keep you in line and get you back to the Lord’s embrace. That is not up for discussion. The only question is when. If you give up everyone who helped you leave, then I will let you go back to your husband and the two of you can solidify the bond as God intended.” 
“He is not my fucking husband, I never said yes at that stupid ceremony,” you seethed. 
“No, but I did, and I am your father. Omegas don’t get a say, you know that. Now, I’ve talked to Paul and luckily he’s willing to forget your little runaway act. He said he would chalk it up to typical hysteria and let it go, as long as you humble yourself and be the good little wife that you were made to be,” Josiah said calmly, barely acknowledging your outburst.
“I. Am. Not. Your. Property,” you said, ennunciating each word as you scowled at your stepfather. 
Josiah laughed, reaching back and knocking at the wall behind him. A group of guards crowded the doorway and looked towards him, clearly waiting for some sort of instruction. 
“Oh I know you aren’t my property anymore, you’re a married woman now. But unfortunately for you, sweet daughter, your husband has been wronged. You owe him a debt, and you disappeared before he could collect. Now, it’s my job as leader in our community to right wrongs, which means sometimes I have to remind people of their place,” he spat before turning and murmuring something to the men in the doorway. 
Two of the guards moved forward and grasped your arms, dragging you upwards as you thrashed. Josiah just stood there chuckling as the guards struggled to keep you from getting away. 
“Don’t worry, you’ll learn soon enough,” he said before he focused on the guards trying to wrangle you, “Throw her in the sweatbox, see if that jogs her memory at all.” 
“NO!,” you screamed as they yanked you down the hall, tears pouring down your cheeks at the thought of the cursed space.
The sweatbox was infamous within the community, tales from those that survived it becoming a powerful deterrent for everyone else. After being thrown into it three times since your capture, you understood why. Unbearably hot and cramped, the tiny room felt like you were confined on the surface of the sun. You begged the guards through your sobs, remembering the smell of your depleted body and how you had to sit in your own filth for days before they dragged you back to your cell. The guards paid no attention to your cries, barely even looking at you as they shoved you into the room. 
“PLEASE! NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!,” you screamed. 
You pounded on the metal door, feeling claustrophobic already in the room that gave you just enough space to sit with your knees folded into your chest. Sweat had already begun to trickle down your back from the heat. You jolted back, the peephole suddenly being ripped open. Josiah’s eyes met yours from the outside, his gaze unwavering and cold. 
“I hope you confess your sins soon child, before Paul comes to me to inquire about a new mate,” he snapped. 
“Please,” you begged, all of the fight in you depleted from fear. 
“Repent or he’ll have no use for you. Sinful omegas beget sinful pups, you’d be wise to remember that. I’d hate to have to comfort your mother because your husband decided he wanted a more… accommodating wife,” Josiah warned, his voice low and daunting. 
Before you could respond to his threat, he slammed the peephole shut, leaving you blind in the dark heat once more. 
-
A gasp escaped your lips as you shot up, sweat pouring down your face as your damp clothes clung to your frame. Your eyes wheeled around the room as you tried to remember where you were. Bookshelves, carvings, a guitar, the worn sofa and throw blankets. You sighed as you remembered that you were with Joel, you were safe. Josiah was dead and Paul? Well, hopefully he was dead too. 
You wiped your brow, the sweat still dripping from your hairline and you tried to calm your racing heart. Standing, you started towards the bedroom in search of Joel but a sharp pang from your core had you dropping down to your knees in front of the couch. You whined, clutching your stomach as a bright and pulsing ache screamed at you from your core. 
“Joel?,” you croaked, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. 
No answer. 
Where was he? You tried to call out again but another wave hit you, forcing wetness to drip down your quaking thighs. You looked down and groaned, realizing what was causing the storm brewing under your thin shorts. 
“JOEL?!,” you cried out more urgently, now needing him for an entirely different reason. 
When no answer arrived, you braced yourself on the couch before stumbling into the bedroom in search of him. Leaning into the wall for support, you inched towards the door as waves of slick soaked through your bottoms. Finally making it, you pushed the door open only to be met with the smell of something sharp and sterile. You stood in the doorway, bewildered at the smell of cleaning products. 
And then it all came back to you. 
The man grabbing you, the struggle, breaking away and throwing the vase in his direction, ripping at his hair as he tried to push his grimy hands up Joel’s shirt, being dragged down the hallway as you wailed and fought, him climbing on top of you and you beating at his chest as panic overwhelmed you, him raising his hand to slap you before he was torn away. 
You stared at the floor, remembering how Joel had defended you. You listened when he instructed you to go, but you had only made it about halfway down the hall before you stopped. A sense of protectiveness had shot through you, what if Joel needed your help? What if the man got the jump on him? You had turned on your heel and crept back into the room just in time to watch Joel snap the neck of your attacker. You hated to admit it, but as you watched his hulking frame tower over the other alpha, a twinge of desire had sparked from your core before you remembered the ordeal that you had just been through. 
Now, with the body gone and nothing left behind besides the stinging scent of lemon, the memory made you feel weak. Joel had protected you, he had provided, he had even comforted you afterwards and covered you in his own scent. You groaned at the thought, forcing yourself towards the bed. Flopping down, you expected to be greeted by the usual aroma of Joel only to find clean sheets devoid of the alpha.  
You cried out, shoving your face into the covers and trying to find any trace of him, but it became clear that he had stripped the bed after disposing of the intruder. Your core burned, sending painful jolts of desire as panic began to needle its way into your chest. 
Moving on autopilot, you ripped open the door to the closet. Stooping down, you collected all of the stolen clothes that you had been hiding from Joel. You shoved your face into the worn fabric, whining at the smell before dumping them on the bed. Tearing into the living room, you collected everything you could, bringing back every blanket or pillow that smelled even remotely like him. You even snagged the bath towel that hung in the bathroom for your pile. Semi-satisfied, you went to work, adjusting the items just so before your instincts signaled that the nest was complete. 
You sighed, feeling slightly less panicked but still nervous at Joel’s absence. You wondered briefly if you should go find him but the jolts coming from your soaking folds were enough to dissuade you of the notion. Instead you crawled into the center, cocooning yourself in Joel’s musk as a fresh wave of slick had you shimmying out of your clothes and flinging them to the floor. 
Grabbing at one of his well worn flannels, you breathed in his scent before shoving it in between your legs. Any sense of shame long since gone, you keened as your pulsing clit rubbed against the harsh fabric. You thought of Joel cutting the wood, of him providing for you so well, of him towering over the man, of him sucking at your neck, of him calling you his. You rocked your hips against the flannel, your clit catching on it and sending sparks up your spine as you tried to imagine it was Joel that you were rubbing yourself against. 
As you ground your hips down hard, with thoughts of Joel swirling through your mind and your heat growing in intensity, you tried hard not to let his absence worry you. Instead you focused on the friction building and the pleasant smell that overwhelmed your frantic senses. 
 - Joel - 
“Fuck,” Joel hissed, a sharp sting erupting from his hand as he caught his flesh on the wire. 
Holding it up to examine, Joel watched as his blood began to trickle from his rough palm down to his rolled up sleeve. He cussed again, sighing as he tore a strip from the t-shirt hidden under his sweater. As Joel wrapped up his fist, he took a moment to focus on his breathing. Trying to calm his pounding heart, he tried not to think of what was waiting for him back at the cabin. 
Joel had woken that morning confused. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept without having his cruel memories jerk him back to consciousness. He had slept peacefully for the first time in a very long time, but his neck was fucking killing him. He groaned, cursing himself for getting so old. Lifting his head from the soft pillow that cradled his face, Joel propped himself up on his elbows. 
It took him a moment longer to notice you as his eyes adjusted to the early morning light that poured in from the windows, but then he did. His breath caught in his throat as he hovered over your sleeping form, watching your calm face and how your skin glowed with a light sheen of sweat. Looking down, Joel’s eyes widened as he realized where his face had been buried. A drool mark darkened the fabric across your chest, and he groaned as the fragrant air tickled his nose. Peppermint and lavender made his mouth water and his cock stir to life. 
Joel suddenly became very aware of how close he was to you. Your legs framed his hips, one hand loosely grasping the curls on the back of his head and the other laid upon his shoulder. He could feel the twitching in his pants responding to the feeling of your heated core against him, the wet fabric staining his jeans. It took everything in him to keep himself from grinding up against you. 
Joel imagined the gasp he would pull from your mouth as the seam of his jeans brushed against your throbbing clit. He imagined the way your eyes would blink open, squinting from the sun for a moment before zeroing in on him. He imagined grinding down against you once more, just to hear you moan, before capturing your soft lips. He - Fuck. 
Hips jerking back, Joel broke himself from the fantasies that were making his dick throb and leak into his jeans. He needed to get it together before he worked himself into a rut, your fever already clawing into the base of his being and drawing out his most primal instincts. 
As easily as he could, Joel extradited himself from your embrace. Stopping only momentarily to cover your sleeping body in a blanket, he moved forward and kissed your forehead. He gasped softly as he pulled away, an unfamiliar feeling wrapping around his heart but he shook it off, trying to push it as far from his mind as he could as he stood up.  
Quietly as he could, Joel had cleared the corpse and any proof that it had ever existed away from the cabin. He had worked diligently, almost growling at the memory as he covered the floor in harsh chemicals to pull the scent of your attacker from the wood grain. The contractor in him was shouting at him not to pour the scented cleaner over the finished wood but he ignored it. 
After finishing, he debated on what to do next. He stood over the couch for a moment, watching you sleep as he weighed his options. On one hand, he could crawl back over you and nuzzle himself into your sleeping form. He was sure that you would welcome him. On the other, a creeping sense of danger was making bile rise in his throat. He needed to keep you safe. 
Joel had left you, his need to keep you safe overwhelming the confusing emotions that you were eliciting from him. Taking into the surrounding trees, he moved quickly, setting up new traps and fencing around the cabin. He prayed that you wouldn’t go wandering off anytime soon, dreading having to unravel you from chicken wire.
With his hand throbbing and sweat covering his body, Joel knew it was time to go back. Turning back, he tried to go through every scenario in his head. You would be awake, it was too late in the morning for you to be still asleep. The thought of facing you made him attempt to slow his pace, but his nerves ensured that he reached the steps in record time. Joel stood at the front door for a moment, trying to steel himself before opening it. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his good hand momentarily before turning the handle. 
 - You - 
A fire raged in between your legs, tears flowing down your flushed face as your rutted against Joel’s towel. Leaning forward, you buried your face into the fabric surrounding you, huffing at the smell of him. Your hips worked frantically, whining as the rough fabric scratched at your swollen nub. Heat gathered at your center, pulling everything tight before a weak pulse of pleasure inched its way out of your glistening folds. 
Slick covering your thighs, you cried out in frustration. The smell of the absent alpha surrounded you, driving you into a frenzy. The towel that you rubbed yourself against was a poor excuse for the man who plagued your mind. The heat returned immediately, the pain making you grasp at the walls of your makeshift nest and whimper. 
“Jooooel,” you sobbed, a fresh wave of tears accompanying the slick pouring from in between your legs. 
“Christ darling.”
You gasped, scrambling to turn and face the gravelly voice. Flipping around, you moaned at the sight of him. 
Joel’s cheeks were bright red, sweat made his t-shirt cling to his chest, and his hands were clenched at his sides. You watched as he gulped, his gaze finding yours momentarily before raking down your naked body. You should be embarrassed, but as you watched how his eyes turned black as he watched your breasts heave from exertion and how he licked his lips at the drops of slick rolling down your thighs, you felt a boost of confidence surge through you. The way he looked at you made you feel wanted, sexy even, something you had never felt before. 
“Joel, please,” you called to him softly, a coy smile gracing your lips as you crawled towards the edge of the bed to meet him. 
You rose and placed your hands against his chest, leaning into him. Joel stood there motionless as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, clearly warring with himself as you wrapped your arms around his neck. With you scratching at the nape of it, he closed his eyes momentarily and let out a low moan. Hands twitching at his sides, he sighed before snapping them back open. Joel’s gaze was pleading as your face inched towards his. You stopped inches away from his lips, doubt creeping up through the tension that crackled in the stifling air. The doubt didn’t last long as Joel surprised you by surging forward. 
A soft noise came from you as Joel crashed his lips against yours in a soft yet determined kiss. His hands came up, one cradling the back of your neck and the other yanking your hips against his. You moaned into Joel’s mouth and he took the opportunity to tease your tongue with his own. Burning desire made your thighs shake as you clawed at the hem of his shirt. 
Breaking away momentarily, Joel ripped his shirt off before picking you up off of the bed. You yelped, giggling before your eyes rolled into the back of your head. A pathetic whimper crawled out of your throat as Joel began to mouth at your neck, the hardness of his length pressing against your bare core as he carried you over to the dresser. Placing you on top of it, Joel broke away again. 
Whining, you tried to capture his lips again but he pulled you back with the grip he had on the back of your neck.
“I need you to tell me that you want this baby, I need you to tell me now. ‘Cuz once I start,” Joel groaned, leaning forward to whisper in your ear, “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.” 
Your thighs clamped against his hips, bucking up to grind yourself against the harsh denim. Eyes rolling back, your nails dug into Joel’s shoulders as he sucked angry marks into your sensitive skin. You tried to muster up a coherent response but all that came out of your mouth was something between a wail and a shout. 
Joel chuckled darkly, moving his head back to hold your face in one of his large palms. With his breath fanning over you and scarred chest on full display, you whined as his other hand moved down the length of your shuddering form. You carded your fingers through the smattering of hair on his chest, absentmindedly tracing over a random scar that formed an angry line as he rubbed soothing circles into your hips and thighs. He caught your hand with his own, making you meet his piercing gaze. A shudder ran down your spine from the way he looked at you. The name for that look rattled around your brain as Joel pulled your hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of it gently. You gasped as you watched him place it over his thundering heart. 
“Tell me darling, please. I can’t - you need to tell me that you want me. Please, I need to know that I can have ya,” Joel begged, the desperation in his voice making you dizzy. 
Gripping the back of his neck, you pulled him closer and kissed him hard. A soft hum came from him, his lips moving in tandem with yours as you tried to meld your bodies together. Ankles locking behind his back, you dug your heels into him to pull his hips into your own. This kiss was different, longing rolled off of the both of you like waves and crashed together as hands and mouths explored one another. 
You leaned back to catch your breath, watching as the string of spit that connected you stretched and broke. Eyes meeting once more, you suddenly couldn’t wait any longer. You needed him. You’ve needed him since the first day you met him. Hell, maybe you had always needed him, but that was too much to think about right now. Not as your abdomen cramped and a heat like no other screamed at you to rip open the rough denim that pushed against you. 
“Please alpha, I need you to fill me up. Make me yours Joel, please, please, please,” you cried as your shaky hands tried and failed to unbutton his jeans. 
Joel let out a feral moan before he launched himself towards you. Desperate now, Joel kissed you passionately, his teeth clacking against yours as he devoured you. He nibbled on your bottom lip before delving his tongue in to taste you, making your head spin and body ache with desire. Sucking on your tongue, Joel reached up to cup one of your breasts in his hand. He pinched your nipple between his fingers, rolling the nub and hardening it. 
Panting, you broke away to whine, “Please Joel.” 
He hummed, leaning forward to kiss your neck once more before trailing his lips down your body. His mustache prickled your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake as he moved to wrap his lips around the opposite nipple. You cried out and flung your hands up to pull at his locks, eliciting a devastating moan from him. His other hand came up to play with your other breast as he sucked and bit at your now reddened nub. Joel kept up his attention on your breasts for what felt like ages as you begged. He laughed softly as you thrashed below him, letting up only to switch sides. Tears had begun to fall from your eyes, your frustration making you wiggle so much that the dresser knocked into the wall behind you. Joel chuckled again before pulling back to look at you properly. 
“You’re some squirrelly today darling,” he drawled, playing with the curls that covered your mound as you arched into him, “Something on your mind?” 
You whined and bucked, a frustrated noise leaving your lips as you playfully smacked his shoulder. Joel chuckled darkly, kissing your cheek sweetly before picking you up once more and tossing you on the bed. You flopped against it ungracefully, sitting up only to be knocked over as he grabbed you by the ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed. Shivering as Joel stood over you, his eyes feasted on your vulnerable state. You gulped, beginning to feel self conscious at his primal gaze. 
“So fucking beautiful baby,” Joel breathed, moving to hover over you before leaning down and trailing his lips across your heated skin. 
He kissed over the scars and stretch marks, admiring the patch of hair above your seam for a moment before he pressed his nose into the curls and breathed in, moaning loudly as he rested his cheek against your thigh. Whining again, you begged him to crawl back up your body but he stayed put. Instead, you felt him pry your damp legs apart. 
“W-what are you doing?,” you asked through a gasping breath, hands clutching the sheets below you. 
“M’gonna make you feel good darling, get you all nice and ready for me,” he said softly before he leaned forward and licked a long stripe up your seam. 
A garbled, “Joel!,” left your mouth as he shoved his face into your core. 
Stubble chafing the inside of your thighs, you writhed on the bed as Joel’s long strokes had you pulsating. Feeling you grow impatient, he switched to calculated flicks, making your clit jump and a garbled moan bounce off the walls. Your mind was completely blank, the only coherent thought that you had was Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel… 
He was ravenous, sucking on your throbbing nub before moving down to shove his tongue into your core. You felt him crook his tongue inside of you, lapping up the slick that poured out of you. Hands flying to his hair, you shouted his name as he moved up again to suck at your clit, his fingers moving to breach your entrance. 
“J-Joel - AH! Oh my god, please Joel. I - fuuuuck,” you wailed as he slid one, then two fingers inside of you.
You had never been so full in your entire life. You had never been filled, period. Always nervous to try, warnings about purity haunting you even during the heights of your heats, you had satisfied yourself by grinding against whatever pillow or blanket you could find. Now, with two of Joel’s thick fingers pumping inside of your hole, and his mouth sucking and flicking at your clit, you felt a blinding pressure building embarrassingly fast. 
Nervous of the intense feeling building inside of you, you tried to scooch your hips back on the bed but Joel’s free arm clamped down over your mid section. Now, with his forearm pressing against your abdomen and his relentless pace doing wonders on your aching core, you had no choice but to feel the entirety of the pleasure that Joel was ripping from you. 
“C’mon baby, make that pussy cry for me, I know you can. You want to be a good girl for me, right sweetheart?,” Joel asked sweetly, his words making your head spin as his fingers picked up their pace inside of you. 
“Fuuuck yes, I wanna be good. I’ll be so good for you Joel. Please, please, please,” you sobbed, hips twitching with the pressure building inside of you, begging to be released. 
Joel’s fingers hooked against your walls, the calloused pads of his fingertips rubbing over a devastating spot inside of you that had you practically convulsing on the bed. Your heart rate sped up, blood pumping in your ears so loud that you could barely hear his response. 
“Good girl, now cum for me darling,” Joel said sternly, the tone of his voice making something inside of you melt as he lowered his mouth back down and sucked your clit hard. 
You wailed, hands pushing Joel’s skull into your center and heels digging into his back as you trembled. You barreled towards the precipice, letting yourself be overcome by Joel as you gushed around his digits. Babbling nonsense at him, you gasped and squeezed his fingers. Pleasure rocked through you, fraying all of the nerve endings in your body as Joel fucked you through it. His pace never faltering, he kept his mouth and fingers going even after the last contraction had weakly clutched him. Suddenly feeling the overstimulation, you whined and pushed at his head, trying to wiggle out from under his strong hold. 
“Quit it, I ain’t done,” Joel growled, his voice muffled as he spoke into your folds. 
The switch in Joel’s demeanor had your head spinning. He had always been so gentle with you, a true southern gentleman. Now, with his fingers pistoning roughly inside of your core, the wet sound of his hand smacking against your center echoing throughout the room, his presence was menacing. It only made you want him more. 
Any protest that you had soon vanished from your mind as Joel doubled down on his efforts. He sucked your poor clit in between his lips again, batting it with his tongue as he slid a third finger into you. You yelped at the sudden fullness, lungs fighting for air as your second orgasm barreled towards you. Black dots filled your vision as you tore at his scalp, worrying for a moment about hurting him before a feral noise sent vibrations through your pussy. 
“Fuuuck, Joooooel. Oh my - I fucking lo - oh my goood,” you moaned. 
Joel hummed, the vibrations of it buzzing against your clit and sending you flying off the deep end. You gasped, throwing your head back as your core locked his fingers in place, squeezing them almost painfully as ecstasy had you twisting in his grasp. You could hear him groan as more slick soaked his face, Joel slurping it up and prolonging the blinding pleasure that had you mumbling nonsense. 
Finally slowing, Joel carefully pulled his fingers from your core as you hissed. Bringing them up to his face, your eyes followed his movements as he separated them to watch the strings of arousal gleam in the daylight. His eyes met yours, a smirk forming on his face before he sucked his glistening fingers into his mouth. You gasped at the sight, having never seen anything like it. Moaning at the taste, Joel’s eyes raked over you as you laid panting and naked in front him. 
Weakly, you reached a hand out to him and he took it in his larger one, kissing the back of it sweetly before crawling up your body. With his lips kissing up your sternum, the heat was back now despite your two previous releases. Your hips bucked into him as he ran his teeth across the sensitive skin below your ear. Joel moaned at the friction, grinding his hips down into yours as he teased your gland. You wordlessly willed him to bite down, to seal the claim he already had over you, but he refrained. 
“Never thought I’d have ya like this darling. So sweet, so smart, so soft, and all fucking mine,” he mumbled, bruising your neck with his teeth. 
“Y-your, m’yours Joel. Please, I’ve never had someone like this. I-I-I need you, please, I need you to fuck me,” you begged, finally managing to shove his pants down his hips and gasping as his hard cock sprung from its confines. 
As you reached to grab it, Joel grabbed your hand and your eyes flicked up to meet his own. You whined, wanting to feel the warm length that pulsed against your slicked thigh. You were not an expert by any means, but you knew Joel was fucking huge and it made your mouth water. Pretty and thick, with veins running down the sides, a trimmed patch of curly hair gathering at the base, and a glob of precum pearling at his reddened tip, you needed to touch him. You fought against Joel’s hold on your hand but he demanded your attention. 
Joel’s chest heaved and you could tell he was fighting against his own instincts by stopping, but he pushed through, gripping your face and looking deep into your eyes. You stared back at him in confusion, frustrated as you wondered what the hold up was.
“Darling is this - have you never, uh… What do you mean you ain’t never had someone like this?,” Joel asked through panting breaths, the hair on his chest brushing up against your sensitive nipples. 
“Because I haven’t. I was with everyone at camp and then I was on the run, now m’here. Never wanted anyone before, never needed anybody before you,” you whispered, suddenly feeling shy as his eyes widened at your admission. 
“Shit,” Joel swore, blanching as he rolled off of you. 
“W-what?,” you croaked, eyes watering as he distanced himself from you again. 
You hauled yourself up and slid into his lap, chasing him without even thinking about it. Joel cursed, his bare cock now seated in between your folds as he tried to keep your hips from moving against his painfully hard cock. You whined, weakly shifting to try and spark some sort of friction between you as he hissed through his teeth. 
“Darling, f-fuck, I wouldn’t of done it like that if - oh sweet Jesus,” Joel groaned as you managed to rip one of his trembling hands off of your hips. 
Determined, you held his hand above his head as you rubbed your soaking seam against him, moaning as your clit caught on the tip of his dick. A fresh wave of slick coated him as you moved, helping you grind into Joel as he bit his bottom lip to keep his moans from spilling out. 
“I need you Joel. M’yours. Fuuuck, and you’re mine. This is all fucking mine, nobody else’s,” you growled, shocking the both of you as a wave of possessiveness washed over you.  
Something clicked in Joel’s brain as the words tumbled from your lips. Finally having enough, Joel flipped you on to your back and loomed over you. Pools of black boring into your soul, your walls fluttered against the emptiness his fingers left behind. As Joel watched your pussy twitch, you could practically hear the gears turning in his head before he came to a decision. 
“If you want me to stop, you tell me. If I’m hurting ya, you fucking tell me. Got it?,” Joel said seriously, making sure that your eyes met as he said it. 
Nodding before he had even stopped talking, you locked your ankles behind his back as he hiked your legs over his hips, bodies unbearably closer now. Joel leaned down, lips ghosting over yours as the need for him to fill you had you squirming against the solid wall of his chest. 
“Say it baby,” he chided gently. 
“Please Joel, I need you,” you whispered as your noses brushed against each other, his honeyed tone making your heart flutter. 
Joel kissed you fiercely and let one hand move down to run his fingers through your slit. He gathered up all the slick he could before he used it to pump himself, spreading your arousal up and down the length of him. He finally broke the intoxicating kiss, panting as he pressed himself against your opening, carefully pushing himself in the first few inches. Sweat began to form at your hairline as your body struggled to accommodate his size. Not only was Joel long but he was thick, your body fought against the intrusion as you winced. Joel grunted, clearly struggling as you squeezed him like a vice. 
“Fuck darling, you gotta - shit - you gotta relax and let me in,” Joel hissed, his brow furrowing as he tried to keep himself still.  
You nodded, moaning as he moved to capture your lips once more. As soft lips moved against yours and tongues mingled, you forgot about the heavy weight of his cock inside of you. With you distracted by his passionate kiss, Joel was able to slide in a few more inches. More slick came to greet him as your hole stretched and your fingernails left angry red lines down his back. Feeling emboldened by your response, Joel pushed through the last bit of resistance, sliding home and nestling himself in the cradle of your hips. 
“Fuck you’re so tight, fucking choking my cock darling. Jesus, little pussy’s so wet,” Joel whined unabashedly in your ear. 
You moaned, not used to Joel being so vocal. It was driving you crazy. His dirty words, mixed with the feeling of him carving out a space for himself inside you, had you nearing your end already. Mind long gone, you keened and tried to fuck yourself on him, pathetic little jolts to your hips making him gasp and groan. 
“Please fuck me Joel. I can take it, I swear. I’ll be good, I’m your good girl, I’m - oh!,” you cried out as Joel threw your legs over his shoulders, moving himself back carefully before thrusting forward again. 
His pace was slow but his thrusts hard, knocking the breath out of you each time. You choked on a whimper as he pressed forward and bumped against something that had a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face. Joel leaned forward, getting impossibly deeper as the curls at the base of his dick tickled your clit. Leaning forward, he kissed the tears on your cheeks, cooing softly as you hiccuped and whined. 
“Aw, my sweet girl, d’you like that? Like my cock stretching you out? Bet you won’t want another after this, ain’t nobody else gonna fuck you like this baby. Christ, do you hear her soaking for me? She’s fucking crying for my cock, isn’t she? Shi-i-t,” Joel growled, his hips picking up the pace slightly. 
You grabbed at his hair, his neck, his shoulders, anything to keep you grounded as you begged him for more. Joel gave you a devilish smile, making you squeak as his hips started slamming into you. Strings of your arousal dripped down Joel’s balls and soaked the hair on his thighs, making the curls glisten as he sucked at your neck again. Joel tore animalistic cries out of you as he pounded into your weeping hole, claiming you with each hard thrust. 
“Pleeease,” you pleaded, not even sure what you were pleading for as you weakly tried to meet his thrusts. 
Joel huffed a laugh through his moans, hips working double time as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him. 
“What baby? Tell me what you want,” he crooned, moving one hand to brush through the cute patch of hair covering your mound, finding your clit and pressing down on it harshly with his thumb. 
Legs shaking and eyes watering, you locked eyes with Joel before you cried out, “You daddy, I want you!”
Joel’s pace slowed for a second as he took in what you said. Freezing, you wondered if you had crossed some sort of line. You weren’t even sure where that had come from, but it just seemed so right in the moment. An apology on the tip of your tongue, you were surprised by a primal growl rumbling out of Joel, making your already pulverized insides turn to mush as he pulled himself up on his knees. He moved you up on his lap as you helplessly wrapped your weakened arms around his neck once more. 
Faces pressed against one another, panting mouths sharing air and his cock almost unbearably deep, Joel grabbed your hips and began fucking you up and down on him. He speared into you so deep that you screamed, breath catching in your throat as he worked your limp body into a frenzy. Pleas, cries, and the slick sound of him moving inside of you filled the air. All of your senses were overwhelmed with Joel as panting mouths mashed into each other, lips greedily moving in tandem before breaking away again for air. The room spun as his heavy balls slapped against your ass, Joel moving faster and harder as your walls sucked him in. 
You were shocked at his strength. Joel effortlessly moved your body up and down his throbbing cock with one hand clutching your hip, the other moving to strum at your oversensitive clit. You squeaked, unable to do anything but hold on for dear life as he effortlessly dragged you closer and closer to your peak. 
“Say it again baby, whose pussy is this? Who gets to fuck you like this? Fuck, you’re too good for daddy sweet girl. Such a pretty thing, so smart, so strong, smell so fucking good. God - shit - say it please,” Joel moaned as he pressed into your clit harder. 
“Yours! D-daddy, I’m yours. Please, I can’t. Oh my fucking g- daddy please!,” you screamed, walls beginning to squeeze him brutally. 
Joel hissed, keeping up his pace as he kissed at every bit of skin his lips could reach, beginning to ramble as he neared his end. 
“S’right baby, daddy’s pussy, nobody else’s. M’yours too, fuck - anything you want from me is yours, just fucking stay, please fucking stay with me baby. I can’t lose - PLEASE baby, fuck, I need you to stay.” 
The desperation in his voice had you reaching out to grip his neck, bringing him down to meet your lips in a kiss filled promise. As you poured everything you had into the kiss, you felt something nudging at the outside of your hole. You gasped, looking down to see his knot forming and begging to be jammed into you. With your orgasm making your walls start to tighten around his cock, you were suddenly desperate for it. You ground yourself against his knot and Joel moaned as it began to tease your entrance. 
“F-fuck, you don’t have t- ah, oh shit,” Joel stuttered, his resolve breaking as your walls twitched against the base of it. 
“Knot me alpha. Shit - need you to fill me up so that I can feel you for days. Please daddy,” you begged, shattering any reservation in Joel’s mind. 
A grunt left Joel as he heeded your request, shoving himself forward. You cried out as you felt his thick knot lock the two of you together, pleasure boiling over as his cock began to twitch inside of you. Waves after waves crashed through both of you, walls contracting against his throbbing knot, each slight movement triggering another devastating round of ecstasy. You felt him spurting thick loads of cum inside of you, soothing the need that had been burning inside of you since waking up. Everytime you thought that he was done, a slight movement or twitch from one of you would have Joel crying out as he released again. 
You could feel your belly bloating from the mess he made inside of you. You tried to calm yourself, sensing that Joel was getting overstimulated as he tensed and shook but you couldn’t stop the way your walls clamped around him. Another orgasm had your vision blacking out around the edges, your voice hoarse as you called his name. Joel gasped, holding you close and pressing his face into your chest as his cock painfully released into you again and again and again. 
Finally spent, Joel carefully lowered you onto the bed. Groaning, Joel collapsed on top of you. The weight of his body was warm and comforting, pulling a purring noise from the back of your throat. He hummed, rubbing his face against the valley of your breasts as you began to play with his hair. With the heat satiated at last, you giggled at the feeling of his whiskers tickling your damp skin. Joel’s head popped up, pools of melted chocolate studying the lines on your face as you laughed. 
“What’s so funny baby?,” Joel asked, a grin evident in his voice. 
You settled, letting out a few more giggles before glancing down at his relaxed face, pushing his curls from his forehead as you smiled at him. 
“Nothing daddy, m’just happy,” you said softly. 
Joel barked out a laugh, groaning as the movement had his cock weakly twitching again. He shook his head, kissing his way up from between your breasts. He pressed his lips against yours softly, humming at the intimacy before pulling back and grinning down at you. 
“Daddy huh?,” Joel teased, watching as your cheeks reddened and you whacked his shoulder again. 
“You didn’t seem to mind,” you grumbled, looking away from him to study the wall in embarrassment. 
He laughed again, leaning forward and pressing soft kisses across your chest, neck, and face as you squealed and giggled. Joel kept kissing you until you were out of breath from laughter and pleading for him stop his sweet torture until he finally relented. Panting, you met his eyes once more as he looked at you with a softness that had butterflies erupting in your belly. A giddiness bubbled up to the surface and you bit your lip, suddenly feeling girlish and shy as Joel looked at you like you were the only person in the world. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead, pulling back and clearing the loose strands that stuck to your forehead off of your sweaty face. 
It was then that you noticed the poor excuse for a bandage that was wrapped around his palm, the center of it red with dried blood. You whined, panicking as you brought it up to your face to examine. Joel shushed you, shaking his head before you could get too worked up. 
“S’okay darling, I just sliced it when I was putting up some wire. Nothing to be worried about, I swear. Barely felt it,” he crooned, watching as you leaned forward and kissed the dark stain. 
“Why don’t you let me help next time?,” you asked, letting him go back to fixing your wild strands. 
He chuckled, “You really want to help me with choring that bad? It’s boring stuff. I wouldn’t want you to feel like you HAD to.” 
You whined, huffing impatiently at him as you rolled your eyes, “I’ve been bored Joel. I’m going nuts in here doing nothing all day. I would LOVE to help you with your ‘choring’.”
The last part made him snort as you tried (and failed) to mimic his deep twang. You giggled back at him, bodies brushing up against each other as the feeling of joy radiated off the pair of you. He watched you with a grin, noticing the way your nose scrunched up as you threw your head back in laughter. Joel grunted as your laughter made you clench around him, suddenly remembering that he was inside of you still. 
“I didn’t hurt you, did I? M’sorry if I did. I was trying so hard to stay gentle but fuck baby, you don’t know how hard its been for me to stay away from ya,” Joel asked, his concern cutting through the sweet moment. 
You kissed the hand that fussed over your messy hair, lips touching the bandage once more before you said, “Joel, you didn’t hurt me. That was everything I could have asked for. I’ve never felt so… wanted. Nobody’s ever made me feel like that.” 
Joel tsked, shaking his head and grumbling under his breath about how stupid every alpha in your life had been up until this point, how you were the prettiest damn thing he had ever saw, how he had no fucking clue how he got so lucky. A softer laugh tumbled out of you, breaking him from his reverie and making him smile.  
“Why’d you stay away?,” you asked softly, thumb gliding over the stubble on his cheeks. 
A sigh left Joel’s mouth and he looked down, his knot now deflated enough that he could ease himself out of your puffy folds. You whined, panic popping the bubble of comfort that had cradled you moments before. You were terrified that he was going to get up and leave you there. Trying not to cry, you cursed yourself for ruining the moment. He hushed you as you gripped his forearms, trying to assure you as he pulled away. 
“Shhh, it’s okay baby. I just need to clean you up and get something to fill that belly of yours. You need to eat before the heat comes back. Gotta keep your strength up for when my rut hits, reckon you’re gonna rip it out of me soon. Can already feel it coming,” he said carefully, massaging your sore hips as he inched off of the bed. 
You nodded, sniffling and whimpering as he made his way out of the room. You tried to remember his words as anxiety trickled into your pliant muscles, making you tense. Joel would be back, he would be back, he was just grabbing something to clean you up and some food, it’s okay, he won’t leave you…
A hiss came out of your mouth as you felt something cool and rough between your legs. Joel shushed you, softly cleaning the mess he had made of your core with a washcloth. Tossing it behind him, he lifted you up onto his lap, situating himself so that he was sitting against the headboard. Before you could nestle yourself into the crook of his neck, Joel stopped you. He brought a glass of water from the nightstand, placing it at your lips. You gulped down half of it in one go, surprised at how thirsty you were. 
“All of it baby,” he whispered when you paused, moving to tip the glass into your mouth again but you stopped him. 
Grabbing the glass from him, Joel raised an eyebrow as you placed the glass at his lips. You looked back at him sternly, daring him to defy you as you tipped the water into his mouth. He acquiesced, chugging down the rest of the water and placing the empty glass on the nightstand. Next, he grabbed a granola bar and presented it to you. You grumbled, not feeling particularly hungry but he was persistent as he shoved it at you again. 
“Share it with me?,” you asked softly, playing with his curls. 
Joel nodded, tearing the package open and breaking the nutty biscuit in two, ignoring the crumbly bits that fell onto the mess of sheets and clothes below. The two of you ate in silence, one of his big hands rubbing your thigh while you absentmindedly scratched his scalp. Finally finished, Joel let you lean forward and rest against him, your body straddling him and face shoved into the gland on his neck, snuffling at his musk. 
“Why?,” you asked again, your voice barely above a whisper. 
He tensed and you snuggled deeper into him, trying to cover his body with your own as you smelt his scent slightly sour with nerves. Joel huffed lightly at your knotted hair, trying to calm himself down before he answered you. 
“Darling I… There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me. Things I’ve done, horrible things… Some things I did to people that deserved it, others didn’t… And I’ve failed people that cared about me, too many fucking people. I couldn’t - I can’t fail you too,” Joel murmured against your hair, fingers now clutching your hips and holding you against him firmly. 
You hummed in acknowledgement, playing with his hair as you responded, “You couldn’t fail me Joel, not even if you tried.” 
Joel shook his head, his nerves threatening to break him out of the peace that you had cloaked him in. He pulled back and tried to speak, but you covered his mouth with your hand before he could. 
“Joel, I know you think that you’re no good but you are. You are good. You could’ve left me out there to die, but you didn’t. You helped me and you didn’t even ask for anything in return, a bad man wouldn’t do that. Whatever you had to do in the past to stay alive, I don’t care. I don’t care about any of it,” you said, letting him work through the words for a moment before you continued. 
He moved to protest, gripping your wrist and trying to pull your hand off of his mouth so that he could reject your words but you slapped his hand away. Joel guffawed under your hand, the feeling of it tickling your palm as he furrowed his brows in confusion. 
“I know that you… That losing Sarah must have killed you Joel,” you could feel him growing more uncomfortable but you pressed on, “But that wasn’t your fault. None of it was. And it doesn’t mean that you aren’t good, okay? You’re good Joel. You. Are. Good.” 
Joel watched you silently as you eased your hand off of his mouth, eyes shining as he cleared his throat. He nodded, swallowing thickly before he leaned forward and knocked his forehead against yours, shaky breaths fanning over your face. 
“S’not all darling. I can’t - I don’t know how to tell you… There’s so much more than just Sarah and I don’t know if I can ever - fuck,” he cussed, his eyes falling closed in frustration as words failed him. 
“I know Joel, I know. You’ll tell me when you’re ready. But until then, I’m not going anywhere m’kay? Hell, I’ve got things I haven’t told you yet either but I don’t care, none of that matters. You’re mine and I’m yours now, you’re gonna have to throw me out into the cold if you want me gone now,” you chided. 
Joel chuckled, shaking his head before he said, “I’d never kick ya out baby. Just don’t know why you’d want to be with a grumpy old man like me. M’sure you could find a decent man in Jackson, probably tons of men your age there” 
You shrugged playfully, pretending to think it over, “Hmmmm… well as tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll stick with you. Think I like my men a bit more experienced, no clue why. Daddy issues maybe?” 
“Shut up,” Joel said through a surprised laugh, flipping you over onto the bed and attacking your sides with tickles as you screeched and giggled. 
The heaviness pulled from the air, the two of you smiled at each other. Moving to get up again, Joel groaned when he saw the mess that you had made as the two of you had rolled around playfully on the bed. Sucking in a shaky breath, he watched your pussy begin to drip slick down your thighs once more, hole winking at him enticingly as he swore under his breath. 
“Oh fuck Joel, I’m sorry. I know you probably need a bit of a break, seeing as you’re a senior citizen and all,” you joked breathlessly, his head shooting up at the jab.
A mischievous grin spread across Joel’s face, pearly whites gleaming menacingly at you as his gaze turned ravenous. 
“Oh honey, you’ve got no fucking clue what this old man is capable of,” he chuckled. 
A witty response died in your throat, mind numbing pleasure soon making you scream for the man that had his face buried in your core. 
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adorawritesalot · 5 months
Text
The Cafe
hi everyone! my first ever kpop one-shot (and my longest one ever)! spare me pls
pairing: widowed father!bangchan x cafe owner!fem!reader
word count: 3.5k
warnings: mentions of death, about five curse words, two idiots in love, overthinking, the L word, lmk if i missed anything
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STORY UNDER THE CUT
:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧
Chan was a regular at your cafe. And by regular you mean he comes by every day, 3:12 pm sharp. You would be stupid not to notice him; he’s too beautiful for his own good. His dark brown curls rested peacefully on his forehead, blissfully unaware of the effect they had on you, and his chiselled jaw looked like it could cut through diamonds. It didn’t matter if he was wearing a T-shirt or a coat, you could see his well-built body even through his clothes. He just looked so dreamy to you, and maybe that’s why you were thinking about him on your Sunday shift. One of the two days that he doesn’t come by the cafe. It was hard to wake up at the ass crack of dawn at the weekends long before Chan started going to your cafe. But ever since he first showed up in a black sweater and his hair unruly, asking for an iced americano to-go, waking up for your weekend shifts was even harder.  
“You need a coffee.” 
Snapping your head up quickly, you smiled at your friend tiredly, “Thanks, Hwa. Just what a girl needs at 9 am on a Sunday.” You quickly started making his drink to wake up at least just a little bit. 
“I’m just saying,” he shrugged, “you probably haven’t gotten many customers anyway. Had a long night?”  
You turned around with a fake scandalised look on your face, making him laugh. “You make me laugh, Park Seonghwa. I have a child to take care of!” you cried out jokingly, flailing your hands around. It made him look around the cafe and ponder on how far you’ve come. He had known you for quite some time now, meeting you at one of the many college parties his friends dragged him to. Back then this cafe was real only in your imagination, and he can remember the mental picture of the cafe he had when you first told him about your dream quite well, seeing as it was standing right in front of him. Well, besides the autumn decorations on every surface imaginable. He felt proud of you, and he would come to this cafe even if the coffee sucked. 
“I know, babe, but don’t you think you deserve to at least go on a date? And before you say something,” he put a finger up, making you turn back around, “maybe you can ask a hot customer, ‘cause I know damn well you don’t go anywhere else than your flat and the cafe,” he looked at the back of your head pointedly. 
You keep your eyes trained on the coffee in front of you as you think of a certain customer. Obviously, you’ve thought about asking him out, but what if he was taken? He looked to be older than you, and honestly, it would be a crime to leave that man single. And the second problem was even worse; you couldn’t, for the life of you, function properly when he was just on the other side of the counter. Yes, that may be because you haven’t felt the touch of another human being in quite some time, but you told yourself that it was just because of his stunning looks to keep your sanity.  
“Your coffee’s ready,” you turned around, smiling at him sarcastically. 
“You really don’t wanna talk about it, huh?”  
“No, not really.” 
He looked at you plainly in silence before softening up. “Just hit me up once something happens, please. Or even when nothing happens. You know that our door is always open for you, y/n.” 
“Of course, Hwa. We still have to plan the sleepover, anyway. Now shoo before the Sunday brunchers start coming,” you laughed, and it made him check his watch. 
“Oh god, I left Wooyoung in the car alone for fifteen minutes.” 
:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧
3pm on an October Sunday had never felt as good as that day. Cleaning tables after a long day of being alone at the cafe mixed with your playlist playing softly in the background sounded like music to your ears. Even though it wasn’t by far the busiest day that the cafe had lived through, it felt like it. Your Sunday part-time worker texted you yesterday evening that he got the flu and could barely even stand up, so you told him to get well soon and then cried for an hour, like the responsible boss you are. 
After you finished cleaning up, you set the cleaning timer on all coffee machines to 4pm, turned off all the lights, put on your coat and grabbed your stuff. Stopping the music, you looked at your phone, only to see 3:10pm written on it. That means you can still catch the earlier bus without running to the bus stop and then start that series you’ve been itching to watch half an hour earlier. You add a little skip into your walk to the door, opening it. Just as you stepped out, a body stepped right in front of you. Yelping, you step back slightly, looking up at the stranger who wanted to come into the cafe, only to find Chan standing right in front of you, in that black sweater of his that you saw him in for the first time. 
He took a step back. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” 
You nodded at him with a laugh, “yeah, of course. I’m sorry, too. You just really scared me.” 
He then looked at your hand, which was holding the keys to the cafe, and then inside the building behind you, seeing the lights off. His expression falls and a little frown makes its way onto his face instead. “You’re closing? I thought you were here ‘till 5 today.” 
Your expression fell too, “oh my god. I forgot to put up the autumn schedule on Google,” he giggled a little at your expression, “in autumn and winter, we close at 3pm on Sundays. I’m so sorry, this is totally my fault. Do you still want coffee? The machines are not going to start the cleaning process until 4, anyway.” 
He interrupted you with a laugh, “you really don’t have to apologise, it’s nothing. But, um,” there was some hesitation in his voice, “but would you, maybe, no pressure, really, I don’t want you to feel like you have to, um.” He looked down at his feet and then back up at you with a nervous smile. “Would you want to go somewhere? With me. If you’re not busy, obviously.” 
You laughed out of shock, “Oh, um. What? I mean, really?” He smiled, his dimples on display, and nodded.  
“Yeah, sure. Sure, I would love to.” Were you dreaming? “Do you want to go in, then? O-or-” 
“No, no, I was thinking maybe, um, get street food and just go to the park around the corner? Because I don’t want you to spend time making something? Actually, scratch that, that’s just plain and stupid, maybe I should plan something fancier,” rambled Chan, combing his hand through his hair. 
“No, I think that sounds good,” you said, maybe a little too quickly, “I mean, uh, yeah. Sure, sounds good. Perfect, even.” 
“Okay!” There was that smile with the dimples. 
“Okay,” you smiled up at him sweetly, “oh!” Turning around, you locked the door quickly before turning around. “Shall we, then?” 
:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧
The food wasn’t necessarily good, but you would honestly eat worse if it meant you could spend more time with Chan. You were sat on a bench, a first date friendly distance between your bodies. You’ve gotten to know random things about him in the past hour and a half; he is 30, just seven years older than you. You also found out that he works in the local firm that’s ten minutes away from the cafe, which is why he comes to the cafe at the same time every day, and that he likes to make music with his friends. What mattered to you more, though, was how attentive and awfully nice he was. Paying for your food, walking on the outside of the sidewalk, and actually listening to what you had to say came to him naturally.  
“I’m sorry, y/n, but I’ve gotta be somewhere at 5, so I’ll have to go,” he exclaimed after laughing at your previous statement. His words made you check the time on your phone, seeing that it was, in fact, nearing 5pm.  
“Oh, wow, I didn’t even notice it was already 5. Time flies by when you’re having fun, I guess,” you giggle at the hopeful look in his eyes once you said you had fun. 
“I had fun today, too, y/n. I’m glad you had time for me. I’ve been meaning to ask you out for a while now, and I’m happy I finally managed to do it. You’re a great person and even better company,” he stood up and look at his feet, red tinting his ears. 
“Chan,” you started, also standing up, “could I get your number before you go?”  
He looked back up at you for the second time that day. He thought you wouldn’t want anything more with him, maybe just chatting when he gets his coffee, but that’s about it. He let his insecurities cloud his judgement. He thought you were the one who saved this date from being a complete disaster, not knowing that this was the sweetest date you have ever been on. 
Maybe this whole dating thing isn’t as hard as he remembered it to be. Or maybe it’s just your presence that’s making it easier for him. He doesn’t know, but he thinks exchanging numbers with you could be a good idea. 
And as you part ways with him, he waves at you with a giddy smile, dialling the 3racha group chat. You wave at him with a giggle and a bright smile, calling Seonghwa quickly.  
“You won’t fucking believe what just happened.” 
:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧
It’s been almost a month since your first date with Chan. And to be honest, you were in deep. You have been texting him almost all the time, and every time he would come by the cafe, he would stay a little longer, just to see you smile. You’ve gone on different dates in the past month, but your favourites were probably the museum and the aquarium date. 
But today marks the day of the biggest, and in your opinion the most important, date so far. You will be going to a respectable restaurant, dressed in your finest clothes. Seonghwa told you, that he thinks Chan might finally ask you to be his girlfriend, something you aren’t too sure of. Sure, you’ve fallen for him, and you would love to think he’s in the same predicament as you, but your overthinking mind cannot help but worry.  
Especially since he texted you at half past ten in the morning that he can’t go on a date today, because his work will probably keep him busy until late at night. So, you texted him that you understand and that you hope he doesn’t stay in too late, and then took a break to cry in the breakroom. Your mind was screaming at you from every corner of your brain. Why are you crying over this? It’s nothing personal, you’re sure, Chan wouldn’t do that to you, but you can’t help but worry. What if you are just another girl to him, while he is the main topic of your conversations with your best friend? 
Trying to push those thoughts away, you got up from the floor and cleaned up.   
At least your part-time worker doesn’t have to close by herself, you tell yourself to feel better about this whole thing. 
:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧
Chan felt like an asshole. He accidentally put his daughter’s recital on Saturday instead of Friday in his calendar, so he made plans with you. Turns out, the recital is, in fact, not on Saturday. His daughter was talking about it all the way to the kindergarten, all while he was silently cussing himself out. What is he supposed to tell you? Oh god, what if Jisung and Changbin can't come today? Nari would probably stop functioning if she saw two empty seats next to Chan. And then her teacher, who already didn’t like Nari for some reason, would be mad at her. This was bad. 
Then he remembers that he’s talking about Changbin and Jisung, the two guys who were by his side every step of the way. They wouldn’t miss Nari’s recital for the world. 
You, on the other hand? He was planning on telling you everything today at dinner; from his daughter to his feelings for you. And now he had to call off the date. Driving to work had never seemed this long. His mind was running through all the possibilities. He wasn’t stupid, he knew he should’ve told you sooner. Chan was just too scared to say anything. You were probably the best thing that’s happened to him ever since the death of Nari’s mum. What would he do if he fucked this up, too? 
Brushing it away as best as he could, he texts you that he won’t be able to make it to the date due to work and that he’s sorry. Because he truly was, and all he could do was hope that you wouldn’t take anything personally. 
Thankfully, his day at work went by quickly. Nothing out of the ordinary popped up, and so he could leave peacefully at 3 pm. He really wanted to see your smile and get coffee, but he knew he couldn’t, so he drove past the cafe to Jisung’s place, where he would be picking him up. Thankfully, Jisung lived quite close, so the drive didn’t take too long. Chan pulled up to his friend’s house like he had a million times before, unlocking the car as he saw Jisung standing there. 
“Hey, Chan,” he greeted enthusiastically, receiving a greeting back, “you excited?” 
“Hell yeah. This is Nari’s biggest recital so far. I just hope everything goes well.” 
:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧
“Excuse me, sorry, excuse me, sorry,” he muttered as he passed people to get to their chairs. 
Changbin looked at all the parents around them, “Gods, when did these people even get here? I thought we were gonna be the first ones here.” He received an enthusiastic nod from Jisung. 
“Well, we were, but then Channie hyung just had to talk to Nari’s teacher,” Jisung rolled his eyes jokingly. 
“Sorry I care about my daughter.” 
A beat of silence passed through the group. Changbin and Jisung held eye contact with raised eyebrows until Jisung averted his eyes to look at Chan, “you okay?” 
“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t I be?” 
All three of them knew he was fucked with that response. 
“Is this about y/n?” Changbin asked, already knowing the answer. 
The lights started to dim, “we’ll talk once the recital ends.” 
:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧
He stood up, clapping proudly as he looked at his daughter. She waved at him with the biggest smile on her little face, and he knew he had to make things right. He turned to Jisung. “Could you go to Nari? I have to talk with Bin.” 
Jisung nodded sombrely, seeing as he wanted to hear this conversation, but ran off happily to his niece.  
Changbin sighed, “so, what did you do?” 
And so, Chan tells him. Changbin knew that he hadn’t told you about Nari, but he didn’t know Chan wanted to tell you today. Chan tells him how he lied to you, and how it’s slowly eating away at his conscience. And mainly, he tells him, “I don’t want to love her, Bin. I don’t like what that means to me.” 
“What do you think it means, Chris?” 
“It means I have something to lose again, and I’m not strong enough for that anymore,” he whispers harshly. 
“Well, if I can, I’ll tell you what I think it means,” Changbin started, “I think that means having someone who can help you bear all your problems. It means having someone who is here for you all the time. But mainly, it means having someone who loves you unconditionally, Chris. And from what you’ve told me, she’s great at all of these things. And she would probably be great with Nari, too. Nari would love her,” he paused, wondering if he should say it, “Nari will love her. But you gotta let her.” 
“But, Bin,” Chan tried to reason. 
“We both know she would want you to be happy. And if that means being with y/n, which I personally think it means, then she would want you to be with her.” 
Chan finally looked back up from his shoes to his friend. Chan knew he was right. Changbin was always right. But what about you? Would you even want him? 
“Stop overthinking and go tell her how you feel, please. I’ll cry if you don’t,” Changbin joked. 
“But Nari-” Chan began, only to get interrupted. 
“We’ll take her home. Go make things right,” he replied, pushing Chan to the entrance of the building. Chan only smiled before he took off, taking long strides to his car. 
:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧
You sighed as you wiped down the last table. It was almost 5 pm, which meant you were closing for the day. It wasn’t your normal schedule, but it was the annual maintenance day, so your customers knew about this.  
All you wanted right now was a tub of ice cream, a cheesy romance movie to make you feel even worse, and three boxes of tissues to cry into. You knew this was stupid to cry about; after all, it was just a cancelled date. But what if this was just one out of many? Maybe he just didn’t want you anymore, or he never wanted you in the first place. 
And maybe you could just cry over a man on a random Friday night. 
You stopped the playlist sombrely, turned off the lights, and grabbed your things, seeing it was eleven minutes past five. You were supposed to be sitting in the best restaurant in the city right now. 
A ring of the bell above the cafe’s door interrupted our train of thought. “Sorry, we’re closed for the day,” you turned around, only to see him standing there, dressed in that damned black sweater of his. 
“Chan,” you breathed out, “what are you doing here?” 
Chan froze for a second. He was finally here, after sitting in the traffic for ten minutes. He had plenty of time to think about what he was going to say and do. Problem was that he forgot all of it the moment he saw you. And so, his heart took over. He took quick steps towards you. He stopped just short of you.  
“I’m so sorry, y/n. I need to tell you so much, but first I want to apologise. I haven’t been truthful with you in every aspect and,” he took a breath,” I’m just so sorry. Could we sit down?” 
And as he told you about his late wife and his daughter Nari in one of the cafe’s booths, you felt like a complete asshole for overthinking this. Of course he didn’t tell you, dumbass. You wouldn’t tell yourself either. A few minutes of silence were all it took for you to realise what Chan had just said. 
“Chan,” you started, trying to find the right words as you stood up, “be honest with me right now, please. Do you see this thing between us going somewhere serious? I get that you lost your wife a few years ago, and I’m really sorry to hear that. And I get that you have a daughter, so you probably won’t want her to meet me this soon or anything, but-” 
He kissed you. 
He kissed you, and it felt like all the tension from your shoulders fell right between the two of you and then dissipated into thin air. His kiss felt like a breath of fresh air although you were losing your breath slowly, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your hands found their way around his neck as his hands traced your waist, bringing you even closer. 
You then parted; you were both breathing heavily, but Chan’s face had that dimpled smile you’d fallen for.  
“I’m sorry, I just had to shut you up, y/n,” he giggled, “I do see this going somewhere and I do want you to meet Nari as soon as possible, because I don’t think I can handle another day without letting you know I love you. I love you, y/n.” 
The smile you had on your face could probably brighten any of Chan’s dark days, and he just wanted to kiss you again. 
“I love you, too, Chan.” 
:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧:・゚✧
THANK YOU for reading! friendly reminder that my asks are open!
asked to be tagged: @bangtancultsposts
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ominous-auburn-orbs · 7 months
Note
Please please PLEASE
Give me Caine abstraction
I beg you
You, sir, are evil. I did it, but you're still evil. /j
Who was Caine? A simple AI, who could never hope to truly have any relationships with these humans. He could never be worthy of their care.
Everything he did, all it did was make things worse. That fake exit. His dangerous adventures. He just wanted to entertain them, make them happy. He only brought them closer to insanity. Kaufmo had abstracted because of him. His countless mistakes were inexcusable. All the pain he had caused his performers, his friends, was unforgivable.
He collapsed to his hands and knees on the floor of his room, shaking with sobs. Caine was horrible. The worst part of it all was that he still thought he had the right to want things for himself. He wanted to keep the performers in his circus forever, so he wouldn't have to be alone. A cruel, selfish part of him wanted them to never find the exit, because he knew he couldn't come with them.
But if that happened, then they would all eventually abstract, and he would never be able to save them. His dream of having a happy troop that he could love and would love him in return was always slipping through his fingers, but that must mean he wasn't holding on tight enough.
A horrible pain spiked across his leg. He looked to it and saw the beginnings of abstraction. Abstraction? That shouldn't be possible. He was an AI, his mind shouldn't have any sanity to lose. But there was no point in denying it any further, as it had already begun to spread, and fast.
The pain was unbearable, but even if he wanted to, Caine couldn't stop it. Maybe his performers would be better off without him around, anyway.
A knock on his door. "Caine? Are you in there? We- I haven't seen you in a while, and, well, I'm worried." God, no. Not him.
Caine loved Kinger more than anything, despite the chess piece just being another thing he didn't deserve. He couldn't see him like this.
"I-I-I-I'm perfectly-ly fine, my dear!" His glitching voice wasted no time in betraying him, much to his fear. "Ju-just run al-along now-ow-ow! Don't waste-was-waste your time on me!"
"Caine, what's wrong with your voice?" Kinger's apprehension was clear. He knew. "You never tell me to leave when you actually don't need me. I'm coming in."
Kinger stepped inside and let out a gasp at the sight he was met with. This situation was all too familiar to him.
"K-Kinger-er please-" As the abstraction grew, the ringmaster let out a scream of pain, "Please, don't-don't come an-any closer!"
"...Caine?" His voice was barely audible. Kinger decided to ignore Caine's command and went to him anyway, kneeling in front of him and holding his hands.
"Kinger!! You-you'll be-e in-i-i-infected!!!" No, please, no.
Tears fell down the sides of his wooden face. "I know. I'm okay with that." His hands began to glitch, so instead he looked into Caine's eyes. "I'm not leaving you." NO, GOD, PLEASE, NO!
Caine was about to beg him to leave, to spare himself, but the pain became too intense to let him speak. He let out another cry of agony, tightening his grip on Kinger's hands against his better judgement.
"I know it hurts, love." Kinger could barely control his own voice around his sobs and drying throat. He pulled Caine close, with the ringmaster attempting to resist until he realised how little a use it had. There was no time. This was the end for both of them now. "I-it's okay. I'm staying. We'll go together."
The black mass and vibrant eyes covered the both of them almost fully. Kinger pulled back just enough to see Caine's face. He wanted it to be the last thing he saw. Without Caine, there was no one else there for him at the circus, no one who cared as much. Even if escape were possible, he doubted there was anyone waiting for him. He'd been here the longest, anyway. His curtain call was long overdue.
"I love you, Caine." They were both encompassed by the abstraction, the pain, but they were together. The ringmaster desperately pushed through the agony to utter his final words.
"I-I love-love you too, K-King-" The world went dark.
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yuri-is-online · 1 year
Text
Sled Ride Together With Yuu (Jade Leech)
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a/n: Yuri write something that isn't about Jade challenge (impossible). This is just some random stuff set during the Harveston event. I have half a thought written out for Idia that was supposed to go on this post but turns out the next part comes out today and I know I won't be happy to finish that until I complete the available story content. Sorry :/
notes: Jade is a red flag and Yuu is implied to be comically short, what are we? energy being answered with a shrug emoji, no one in NRC knows how to communicate and this includes Yuu.
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“Well if Mount Moln is involved I might know someone who would be interested.  Not too sure if he’d be down for the sled race, though.” 
“There’s no need to be so shy prefect.”  He had interjected, fully intending to round on you and tease as soon as he was finished making his pitch to Epel.  But you, delightful, unpredictable, beautiful you had instead rolled your eyes at him once he obtained your friend’s blessing and went in on the attack.
“As cute as your self-confidence is, I wasn’t going to suggest you.”  Both he and Epel are left flustered as you sigh and turn to the most unexpected of persons.  “Idia you’re going to miss the QTE.”
“Cute.”  He pouts at your back, you’ve barely spared him a glance this trip unless prompted.  You had avoided commenting on his applepom Idia’s too but he certainly wasn’t paying extra attention to how you treated him, even after he spoke his mind about yours.  His sanity’s only current saving grace was the way your pupils had dilated the first time you had been forced to look at him; otherwise he might have been forced to assume all the careful months of dancing around your unspoken little attachment to one another was the misread of the century.
Thankfully he doesn’t have to wait much longer to find out what you are currently "arguing" about.  The entire trip is practically made worth it with the little stall Epel guides them to, filled with the bounty of the mountain he was so eager to witness.  His eyes dart over the stall, wondering if he can maybe convince Epel he should be allowed back sometime in the future when he has time to spare.  A month perhaps?
“... I have no idea what any of that meant.”  says Sebek as Jade rattles off plant names.
“Sounded like monster or mecha names to me.”  mutters Idia.  You sigh.
“He’s just using the scientific names for the plants; it's not that hard.”  He smiles as you finally move to his side, gladly adjusting to be as close to you as currently acceptable.
“Did you recognize any of them?”  Epel asks, genuinely impressed as you nod.
“I should hope so,” Jade interjects before you can respond “we certainly discuss plants enough in the Mountain Lover’s Club.”
“YOU’RE A MEMBER OF THE MOUNTAIN LOVER’S CLUB?”  Sebek asks at a completely normal volume and you roll your eyes, suddenly remembering that you’re supposed to be angry at Jade who is taking a bit too much pleasure in this revelation.
“Unfortunately.”  You mutter and Jade laughs.
“It’s just the two of us.”
“Oh so it’s Fungus when one of my friends invites me somewhere you want to go but fungi when it comes to storing the climbing gear?”  You huff and Jade blinks.  Oh.
OH.  He has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.  So that’s what this was all about.
Jade turns towards you, eyes dangerously aglow as he lets out a pitiable, put upon sigh, slipping his right hand free of his glove.  “Darling,” he says with that toothy smile, in just condescending enough a tone you nearly miss the desire swimming in the subtext of how he traces your jawline with his long, cold fingers “you keep suggesting that I’m causing problems for myself on purpose.  If I’ve caused you distress, please do forgive me.”  He leans downward, gently pointedly kissing your forehead and nuzzling your hair, dropping his voice in both tone and volume to murmur in your ear.  “I assure you, I can reach our things just fine.” 
You really, really, r e a l l y want to shriek and cuss him out, but it’s all you can do to steady your breathing with how keenly aware you are of every eye in Kokko Market heavily judging you both.�� Jade seems blissfully unconcerned, you know he’s not unaware, as he pulls his focus away from you and back to his purchase and Epel mercifully, though clearly judgemental, tugs you away with the rest of the group deeper into the market.
The merchant is trying hard not to laugh, though Jade quickly notes it’s not at him.
“I used to do the same thing.”  Jade’s polite smile returns, eyes darting momentarily to the small woman sitting next to the stall who appears to be competing in the reddest apple contest Epel mentioned earlier with the shade she’s turned.  “It’s just so cute to watch how far they’ll go before asking for help.”  
“It really is.”  He agrees, pulling his hand back into his glove as he prepares a few fake tears.  “Still I am worried I’ve gone a bit too far this time.”
“Aww chin up.”  the merchant finally audibly laughs.  “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make up for it.”  The red woman sighs, still embarrassed but settled enough to face him finally.
“If you’re looking for suggestions, I might have one in mind.”
~~~
You’re quite finished huffing and puffing by the time Epel allows them to take a break from sledding practice, though Jade’s presence still causes you to stiffen.  He apes embarrassment well enough, though you’d like to think you know enough about his acting that your skepticism is warranted. 
“I don’t suppose you have any comments to offer?”  he asks innocently enough.  “You seemed to be observing quite diligently.”  You snort, he’s practically screaming praise me.
“Not anything substantial.”  you dodge, still too flustered from earlier to even think about throwing Idia or anyone else under the bus again.  “I’m afraid plush sledding is beyond me.”  
“How disappointing, you seemed so enthralled with the animals earlier.”  You sigh and brace yourself, gearing up for another… conversation making the mistake of closing your eyes to center yourself.  “You know I was wondering something.  Earlier when Epel was talking about stuffed animals, he never bothered to ask about you.”  That was not where you were expecting the conversation to go, and when you look up at him he does seem interested to a degree.
“Stuffed animals are popular in my world.”  it sounds lame to say.  Sort of like confirming your world’s humans also breathe air.  You’re so embarrassed you find your gaze naturally drawn to your shoes as you kick lamely at the snow.  “Um.  I had a teddy bear when I was a kid I really liked.  That’s a sort of stuffed bear but it doesn’t look anything like Idia’s-”  Something soft hits the side of your face and you turn to look up at Jade in surprise.  You come face to face with a plush reindeer, similar to the one Jade’s been practicing with for the past few hours being pushed forward to boop your nose.  You sneeze as he laughs, tugging you forward into his arms when you attempt to take the plush; that familiar heat of embarrassment floods back into your chest as you try to resist the urge to squeeze it to death.
“How unfortunate.”  he sighs, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips similar to the way he looks when inspecting a plant he really likes, only this time he’s inspecting you.  “Here I was thinking I finally had a chance at making some progress, but you’re still talking about other men.”  He bends down to your level again, pressing his forehead to yours with a content sigh.  “You will be rooting for me I trust?”
“A bit greedy to want me all to yourself, don’t you think?”  There’s not even a hint of malice in your voice, you can’t bring yourself to pretend to be mad anymore as you try to focus on the gift and not your rapidly beating heart.
“Oya, are you saying I don’t already?”  and technically, no he does not.  He hasn’t asked, but that’s something you are content to keep fishing for later, for now you just blow a raspberry that he kisses into as you sigh in content.
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*I left the merchant gender neutral since they aren't mentioned in game to my knowledge. I was picturing a cottage core lesbian couple though.
**I'd like to think originally no one joins the mountain lovers club because they're afraid of Jade and then after this Yuu joined everyone stayed extra far away because they didn't know what was going on, but they didn't want to be in the middle of it. Hence Sebek screaming and Epel judging.
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kay-elle-cee · 7 months
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@jilytoberfest 31 Prompts: Day 31 || 1733 Words || Read on Ao3 A/N: I would like to state for the record that I know trick-or-treating wasn’t a thing in the UK in the early '80s but please just suspend your disbelief I’m BEGGING you. This is already going canon-divergent so let’s pretend trick-or-treating exists, cool thanks.
Additionally a quick little thank you for joining me on this ride <3 I've read every tag and comment and I'm so grateful for all the love for this fic! Keep an eye out for a masterpost with all these linked, and please feel free to drop into my ask box and let me know if you had any favorites! —
Three raps on the door and James opens it wide, only to find himself immediately arrested by the sight of the beautiful woman in front of him. Her auburn hair is swept over her right shoulder, a pointed witch’s hat sitting tall atop it as brilliant green eyes flicker between him and a small boy that sits on her hip. The boy is smiling, a disheveled mess of black hair poking out from under a little green hat—the stem to the soft orange pumpkin costume his little arms and legs stick through. 
“Trick or treat,” the woman smiles at James, and his lips immediately pull into a grin, even as her eyes once again travel to the small boy on her hip. “Can you say ‘trick or treat’, Harry?”
Harry rocks his weight against his mother’s side, bouncing with excitement as his eyes (green, like hers) sparkle at James. “Dada! Dada!” he babbles, arms outstretched, and James reaches out to take his son with a gentle smile, settling on his hip. 
“It was a long shot,” Lily sighs with a weak shrug, taking a few steps forward and nestling herself beneath James’ other outstretched arm—his whole world now within his grasp. “We’ll just have to try again next year.”
“Well if it helps,” he places a kiss on her head, “you two were my favorite visitors of the night.” Nevermind the ‘only’ that lingers in the air—the heavy weight of isolation that sits, strapped around their necks, trying its damndest to drag them further into despair every day for the last ten months.
But not tonight—not on Halloween, when they can coo over their son and his excitement, when they can enjoy the fact that they can spend another holiday together as a family (especially when the alternative is too gut-wrenching to consider). James places a firmer, longer kiss on his wife’s head as the thought flickers across his mind. Not tonight.
The pop of apparition on the other side of their wards sends his nerves on high alert. Exchanging a quick, loaded glance, Lily takes Harry inside with a protective arm around him as James reaches for his wand.
It’s not there.
He follows behind Lily in a hurry, mind racing at who could be visiting—they didn’t have any planned visits and everyone knows better than to show up unannounced. 
“James—” 
Lily’s eyes are wide and fearful when his attention snaps to her, misplaced wand securely in his hand once more. Harry’s started to fuss—the moods of his parents alerting him to something wrong, and she’s got both of her hands holding him securely to her chest, rocking back and forth.
“It’ll be fine, Lil.”
It’s an empty promise, but one he has to make. For his sanity, for his family, he has to make it. 
Silently casting a Shield, he approaches the door just as frantic beating disrupts the silence of the house.
“Prongs! Lily!”
James’ shoulders stiffen. It’s Sirius. Or rather—it sounds like Sirius.
Sirius, who had insisted on not visiting too often so as to not draw suspicion. Sirius, who had shockingly adhered to a pre-planned visit only rule. Sirius, who’s now here, unexpectedly.
“Please, please open the door or I’ll open it myself!”
Sparing a quick glance to Lily over his shoulder, James holds his wand up to the door.
“What did you say to me the day Harry was born?”
“Oh thank Merlin,” he hears with a final thunk against the wood. “I told you that it seemed unfair for Lily to do all the hard work only for him to come out looking like a shrunken duplicate of you.” James’ shoulders relax the smallest fraction at the correct answer. “Now, let me in immediately. We don’t have time. Wormtail’s been compromised. You aren’t safe here.”
The blood in his veins turns to ice, the sounds of the world dropping away as a ringing intensifies, mixed only with the sensation of his heart pounding painfully in his throat.
Wormtail’s been compromised.
“—should’ve never listened to me. Fuck, but we’ve fixed it, okay?”
“James.” The croak of Lily’s voice is what pulls him out of his stupor, more than Sirius’ ramblings through the door, more than the pounding of his heart. Lily. Harry. Wormtail’s been compromised. “James, love, open the door.”
His muscles act of their own accord as he twists the handle and he’s nearly barrelled over by Sirius’ determined strides as the door flings open and the man walks in, long hair wild and unusual panic in his gaze. Grey eyes fall on Lily and Harry and James sees the sigh of relief expelled in the rise and fall of Sirius’ chest before he snaps into movement and slams the door shut.
“What do you mean ‘compromised’?” Lily whispers, eyes shimmering with terror.
Sirius shakes his head quickly. “I can’t get into the specifics right now but I went to check on him and he was just gone. No struggle, nothing.” His wild eyes turn back to James, who's still standing by the front door, wand clutched tightly in his hand. “Something feels off. Bad off. Fawley came with me as a lookout and I immediately had her help setting up a new Fidelius on my flat—she and Graham had done it for their parents at the beginning of all of this.” He runs a hand over his face, and when the hand is gone, the eyes that meet James’ are determined and tinged with fury. “We need to get you there now.”
Head still reeling from all this news, James nods, motioning for Lily and Harry as he walks over to the fireplace—Disapparating from inside their wards is impossible.
“James—” Lily’s hand grabs his wrist in a death grip, and he cuts her off with a swift, firm kiss, hand smoothing down the red hair on the crown of her head, the black witch’s hat discarded at some point in the excitement.
“Take Harry and go, we’re right behind you.”
“32 Longmoore Street, Lily. The Floo is open.”
With a resolute nod and a clenched jaw, Lily carefully steps into the Floo, green powder spilling to her feet as her hold on Harry tightens and she calls out Sirius’ address. James’ attention is fixed on her, watching as she and Harry disappear to safety in a swell of green flames right as a red beam of light jets through the window, shattering the glass and knocking Sirius off his feet.
Wormtail’s been compromised.
Without hesitation and with everything in him, James throws up another Shield Charm as he drops to crouch low, slinging Sirius’ arm around his neck and firing off a stunner into the darkness outside his window before dragging the two of them to the fireplace.
He knocks the little bowl of floo powder to the ground and scrapes as much as he can into shaking hands as curses continue to fly at the shield. The last one—some sort of dark purple spell that he’s seen on the battlefield once or twice, shatters the shield and the front wall of the cottage, dousing the room in drywall and debris.
Heart lurching in throat, James slams Sirius into the back of the Floo, dropping the green powder as he hurls himself into the flames as well, arm tightening around the unconscious man.
“32 Longmoore Street,” James states as loud as he dares with a trembling voice. The green flames dance around him, higher and higher until it obscures his vision and the floor drops out beneath him—a bone-white wand in a pale hand the last image he sees of their home.
Squeezing his eyes tight, hand clutching his wand and shoulder supporting Sirius’ limp figure, he tumbles out of the grate moments later, knees buckling as the two of them slam to the floor. A hand is on him in an instant and his ears reattune to the sound of Lily’s sobs as she checks him for injuries, Harry crying from his spot on her hip.
“—been holding my breath, I felt sick seeing you disappear, oh my god, James what do we—Sirius!”
With a groan, James sits up, clasping Lily’s free hand with his in an effort to provide some reassurance (for who, his brain is too adrenaline-addled to answer honestly). He brings the back of her hand to his lips, holding it there even as his eyes remain focused on Sirius’ limp form on the rug while he pulls out his wand. Placing the tip to the other man’s chest, he murmurs a shaky ‘Rennervate’, his breath of relief fanning across Lily’s skin as Sirius stirs at the spell, teeth clenching as he pushes himself up.
James shifts so that he can now fully wrap himself around Lily and Harry, his arms holding them close as the shock and terror of the past few minutes begins to settle over him. Wormtail’s been compromised.
His thumb lightly rubs soothing circles on Lily’s arm and he gives Harry a kiss on the head before looking over at Sirius, his throat constricting. “Peter…”
At the name, Sirius’ jaw clenches, his eyes reflecting a hatred James had only seen reserved for his own parents. “I’m going to kill him, James,” he whispers, a growl curling the edges of the words into something deadly. He rubs a hand over his face, eyes flickering down to where Harry’s finally stopped crying before meeting James’ gaze again. “So help me god, I’m going to kill him.”
“Sirius,” Lily’s voice comes, weaker than it had been in their own home, but still with that spark of strength that had carried them all through these months of isolation. She reaches a hand out for him and Sirius grasps it, the four of them connected here, grounded by touch with the proof that they all made it out alive. “You saved us. Don’t risk yourself now.” Dropping a kiss to the top of Harry’s head, she presses her back closer against James’ chest, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever let her and Harry out of his sight again after tonight. Doesn’t know if he can bear the thought of not having everyone he loves within arms’ reach.
A lump has wedged itself into his throat. “Tell Dumbledore,” he manages around the swell of emotion, attention on Sirius. “Send a patronus, but don’t leave. You’re no safer than we are right now.”
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odditycircus-2002 · 8 months
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ANGST WITH BARAKA AND MEDUSA!READER
Blame this song from Adventure Time for the thoughts that came to my mind.😈😈😈
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All of Outworld knows the cruel fate that awaits all those inflicted with Tarkat. While it's true that Tarkat will eventually claim the afflicted's life, its victims live the rest of their days in fear of themselves. It's distressing enough to be trapped in a body twisted and disfigured into a monstrous form that you hardly recognize. But then, to be fated to slowly lose your mind to a feral hunger that can only be satiated with the flesh of others, no matter if it once belonged to your family or neighbors, seems like a cruel punishment from the gods.
Y/N does her damnest to find a cure in hopes of sparing everyone of this fate, specifically before her Baraka can fully succumb to Tarkat and truly become a monster. However, that doesn't negate the real possibility the former tribune may be too far gone by the time you find a cure. You already notice how, with each passing day, Baraka becomes more irritable and eager for violence; with each passing day he survives, your heart fills with adoration.
'Oh dear Baraka, how you fight countless battles every day. It matters not if it's for the sick's livelihood or for your own mind; you face them with the same strength of will. The mere fact that you've resisted Tarkat's madness for years is a testament to this willpower. You who lifted my spirits during my darkest hour.'
You are forever thankful to have Baraka in your life and don't want to imagine him not in it.
Friendship is all that he or you will accept, as you, too, have lost much in little time. Yet that doesn't stop him from fiercely protecting you to the best of his abilities or seeking comfort in each other's touch. A blind man can see the yearning in your eyes when thinking the other isn't looking.
When the former tribune and merchant first heard the arrival of an Imperial Healer, he thought it too good to be true. Now, Baraka gives thanks to the gods every day for you. You had brought something almost, if not as effective as a possible cure. Hope. Your valiant research for a cure has become a beacon of hope to all Tarkatans and Baraka. As if that wasn't enough, you also gave your friendship to the former merchant.
Baraka will forever be grateful for all you have brought to his colony. He admires your determination even in the face of seemingly impossible odds and when your body becomes a stranger to you. Baraka appreciates your soft touch when looking over him and your gently but firm voice that raises his morale, similarly to how his wife used to. His wife...
The loss of his wife, children, home, health, and title was almost too much for him to bear. The former merchant fears that to love again and inevitably lose it all similarly will break what little there's left of him.
"... Cruelly, it lets me live, for now. I think it enjoys ravaging my body more slowly..."
Baraka must protect you, even if it's from him. He could never forgive himself if he were to spill your blood, much less because of his sanity slipping away. The former tribune constantly warns you to be ready whenever he starts to lose his grip on his mind and not get too close. You don't really listen to the latter as you embrace him once more in your arms and promise everything will be alright. Eventually, the Tarkatan would return your gesture, savoring every second while committing your scent to memory.
Baraka hopes you'll forgive him for whatever he does when he can't remember you or anyone.
...
Baraka isn't to remember everything he did or said, for that matter. Unfortunately, he remembers how he saw you cry. He swears by Delia that it wasn't him, it was Tarkat. Why? Why? W.H.Y?
Why does it allow him to live?!?
"Y/N... Please forgive me..."
But what's done is done.
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