#Sinners & Saints Collection
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rhysdoesstuff · 1 year ago
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Grishaverse fans I need your attention
Okay, now that you are here, go listen to the album Sinners and Saints by Bookish Songs Collective. A group of artists wrote songs about the Grishaverse characters, and the songs are so so so so good. Go, please. They have songs for the crows, for Alina, for the Darkling, for Zoya and for Nikolai. Heck, they even have one for Milo the goat. Go. Now. Give them love.
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holylulusworld · 2 years ago
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Sinners & Saints Collection
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Sinners & Saints Collection for all Priest/Fake!Priest, Cult!Leader & Guru fanfictions
A/N: This is a multi-fandom collection. Some of these are roleplay fanfictions. Please consider this kink is not for everyone. Don’t like, don’t read!
Contains: 💔 angst // 💕 fluff // 💦 smut // 🖤 light smut // 🤍 implied smut // 😈 darkish
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Love in sin 💦
Sweeter than cherry pie 💦
Don’t fear your kinks (22) - Punish me father 💦
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Heaven help me 💦
Sinner and a Saint 💦
Sin with me, father 💦
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Bad Girl 💦 😈
Two saints and a sinner 💦
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Temptation masterlist 💦
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His salvation 💦
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Mr. Orgasm masterlist 💦
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Original Sin 💦
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Sweetest temptation 💦
Not so innocent 💦
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One Summer night 💔💦
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Find collections & special events here: Special Events & Posts Masterlist
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dreamsandconstellations · 1 year ago
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Salvation comes, from the girl who tamed the sun - The Sun, Ellyse Moir, Sinners & Saints, Bookish Songs Collective
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fullychaotichell · 6 months ago
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Radioapple Week Day 2: Enemies / Pining
Yet again, I'm quite late but I've had a busy day XD
These drawings were sorta inspired by fanfictions like Of Saints and Sinners, where Lucifer forms an accidental collection of Alastor's things, and Finders Keepers, in which Alastor is a bit of a kleptomaniac (a lot, actually) and collects trinkets from different hotel members, including Lucifer who ends up finding him out. I just love the idea of mementos of your closest people, and in this case specifically the irony of keeping a memento of someone you claim you hate pfff
I think for all of this week's prompts I'll attempt to do both of them, tying them together in some way, one that at least makes sense in my head XD
Day 1
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reivun · 2 years ago
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tag drop i.
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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 9 months ago
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The Most Innocent Sinner
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Summary: For everyone, she's the shy, pure, little Y/n. Dating Dean Winchester is like going on dates with the complete opposite of her. So it is a very nice surprise when Dean learns how kinky she actually is by finding her collection of sex toys.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Rating: 18+
Content warning: Sex toys, masturbation (male and female), dirty talk
Square filled: Dildos for @spnkinkevents / “Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home.” for @jacklesversebingo / masturbation for @anyfandomkinkbingo / “Unfortunately, I’m turned on by that.” for @anyfandomgoesbingo
A/n: Finding a title is so hard. I got stuck on this one for way too long. Big thanks to my friends that helped me!
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From the outside, Y/n looked like a Saint. Cute, she wasn't very tall and almost sickly shy, and her social anxiety didn't help her case at all. 
Since she didn’t have many friends, Y/n spent her time at the library surrounded by stories that made her forget how alone she felt. The characters on these yellowed sheets would never judge or criticize her, it was a comfort in which she really liked to immerse herself, especially after a hard day.
It was also where she met the Winchester brothers for the first time.
For someone like Y/n, the complete opposite of popular, invisible to people even when she was in the same room with them, the Winchesters were the pinnacle of perfection. Bodies built like gods, well-defined faces, piercing eyes, they gave off a strong and dominating aura that attracted the gaze of everyone in their path. And Y/n was no exception.
The moment the two brothers walked near her table at the library, there was no longer any need to read. Her book closed by itself in front of her, as she no longer held it open, her eyes fixedly stuck on the two men. Following their directions with her gaze, she turned her head, almost hurting her neck.
The colors around her suddenly seemed more vivid. The sounds, sweeter to the ear. She strained her ear to better listen to their conversations. And it was then that the stories she loved reading so much... Became reality.
Y/n had always had a habit of making herself fade away. Not wanting to attract attention, remaining discreet and making herself as small as possible. But the moment she saw them, it was like a light bulb went on inside her, and filled her with a life she had never really felt. And she decided to change that.
She didn’t want to hide anymore.
It was an adventure awaiting her, just like in her books. Filled with villains, monsters, but also angels, laughter, food and finally, a place where she belonged. It didn't take long for her to take part in their lives, quickly becoming a full member of their families. Although she wasn’t trained to be in the field hunting monsters, her lifelong experience of extensive reading was too vital and important to refuse her help.
Initially, Y/n was assigned to research. It was perfect for her, she could show them how efficient she was at this task so they would give her more to do eventually. Quickly, she climbed the ranks in the Winchesters' trust and became closer to them.
Everything about her personality was perfect to fit with Sam's. And yet, as the months stretched into years, she inevitably grew closer to Dean. Some will say that opposites flock together, and they are not wrong. Dean was the opposite of Y/n, stubborn, he didn't hesitate to say what was on his mind and loved seeing the adorable expression that invaded her face when he made inappropriate or worse, sexual comments. Immediately, Y/n would disappear from the room almost like magic, or she would become so embarrassed that he took pity and immediately changed the subject.
Y/n had a purity that Dean never had, and it was one of the reasons why even after all this time knowing her, he was still reluctant to let her come with them on hunts. Or even to involve her in anything that could endanger her or defile this purity. If he could keep her from losing that sparkle in her eyes, he would, no matter the cost.
After a few months of dating, Y/n finally agreed to live in the bunker with them. Dean helped her move in, putting her things in a room other than his, and although not sharing the same bed disappointed him a little, he understood why. She wasn't ready, and he insisted on her comfort. He was willing to wait for her as long as it took.
“If I had known you had that many boxes, I would have brought in extra hands,” Dean huffed, placing yet another heavy box on the ground. Straightening up, he raised his arms above his head to stretch his back.
“Sorry, all my books,” Y/n shrugged and lowered her head, embarrassed.
With a quick wave of his hand, Dean signaled that it was nothing. “It only takes a little longer but it’s no problem,” he quickly said to reassure her, so she wouldn’t feel bad about having so much stuff. After all this time knowing her, he knew how important her books were to her.
Her 500 books which weighed bricks to transport…
“I'll go get another box,” she accepted Dean's answer and as she passed him on her way out, left a quick kiss on the cheek. It was Dean's turn to react, his face quickly turning red.
“Okay, in the meantime, I'm going to start…” Glancing at the mountain of cardboard, Dean sighed again. “Cleaning a little…”
Sam wasn't there. Although he proposed his help for moving her stuff in, Dean's ego was more powerful. As a boyfriend, he had to take care of his girlfriend himself. Without help. Showing her that he was there for her, and that she would always be his priority.
Dean had been in several relationships in the past. And he loved each woman with all of his soul. But each time, his work, his family or the apocalypse had forced him to leave. It had been a very difficult task each time, but he had done it.
Just the thought of leaving Y/n had the same effect as losing a limb. It was unthinkable.
Ah shit. He was in love.
Him, in love?
It was the first time.
… Wait a minute.
He was in love with her.
This realization hit him harder than he expected. Dean took a few steps back, his head spinning quickly. He was in love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Never in his entire life had he felt this kind of thing for someone, feelings so strong, so true. When they were together, he felt so good, like he had finally found the thing he was missing. The person he needed.
Dean took another step back, and inevitably, his legs encountered a box. He lost his balance and, trying not to cause a landslide, had to hold himself against the nearest thing… Another box.
This one was strangely and unfortunately lighter than the others and failed to stop him from doing damage. Luckily, Dean kept his balance and avoided the embarrassment of falling on his butt, but the box fell to the ground.
“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled as he hurried to pick it up. As he took it, he noticed that it was not closed properly. It was definitely not his plan to go through Y/n's personal belongings, but when he opened the box to close it better, he couldn't help but see what was inside.
And it wasn't his fault. The first item on top was a box that displayed the inscription of its contents, and his curiosity, well… took care of the rest.
“What the…” taking the item in question, Dean examined it. His hunter's eye detected every detail, inscriptions, the wear on the cardboard and even the place where the packaging had once been sealed before opening. The sticky paper seemed to have been removed so quickly, the color of the cardboard remained stuck on it. It was exactly as if its owner, eager to have the object, hadn’t been concerned by the breakage of its packaging.
SO. It was still possible that the contents were not what was written in black and white on the packaging. It was still a possibility. Dean understood, it was his duty to get to the bottom of it once and for all. Otherwise, the question would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Heart racing for no good reason, Dean placed his fingers where the paper was torn off and pulled the tab. Then, breathless, he opened the box and peered inside.
“Son of a bitch,” his mouth breathed along with the last of his oxygen. No... he couldn't believe it. As if he needed further proof that his eyes had already given him, Dean reached into the box and pulled out the object.
It was still in its bag, but an opening proved its frequent use. Both soft and very hard, it was of regular size and of a pretty pink shade. Dean didn't need to take it out of the bag to know that underneath was the little hole to get charged, the wire still in the box.
In his hand, Dean held the thing he never thought he would hold… Let alone find among his girlfriend's stuff. The sweet, pure, shy Y/n.
Scared that she would come back and see him like this, Dean quickly put the pink dildo vibrator back in its box. A thousand questions swirled through his mind and his heart still hadn't stopped pounding in his ribcage. In his eagerness and nervousness, Dean almost dropped the box, so he had to pull himself together to put it back exactly where he had found it.
And that was when he saw them.
There were plenty of them. A dozen even. Some had their original packaging, others had boxes without inscription. Curiosity rose in Dean who forgot the presence of his girlfriend and owner of these toys in the bunker. It was like suddenly he was alone in the world as he began to pull out everything he had in front of his eyes, his pupils dilating with each new discovery.
Small portable vibrator. One that looked like a butterfly, insertable and vibrant. A… dolphin? A flesh-colored dildo, including ball and base with suction. A magic staff. Purple, pink, black, the colors were added one after the other. And then suddenly...
Dean came across the largest box.
It was curiously and surprisingly big for what was inside. Dean couldn't help it. It was heavy, there was no doubt about the contents, but he had to see it with his eyes, hold it in his hands, and absorb reality.
It couldn't be that big... right?
And oh my god.
“Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home…”
Examining it from every angle, he still couldn't understand. The words “bad dragon” were forever imprinted in his brain along with the image of that purple and blue hued dildo. It was imposing, as tall as it was wide, and the different textures were strange but pleasant to the touch. And inevitably, his brain went in that perverse direction he imagined...
Her moans filled the room and the echo was carried throughout the whole bunker. Sounds of pleasure? No. Of frustration. She moaned as she tried as best she could to get the dildo into her entrance, which was still too tight for such a monster. But her determination only grew with her goal, and the idea alone of being able to have all those inches inside her was so exciting that she almost didn't need any lube.
“Oh fuck,” breathed through her lips as the head of the toy finally pierced the breach. Her head tilting back, she wiggled on the dildo to widen her entrance to accommodate the rest. Kneeling over the toy made it easier for her to maneuver her body and part her lips for guidance. And when finally the dildo was inside her, a long sigh of relief mixed with the pleasure of having succeeded hissed between her lips.
“I love the view…”
Dean hadn't missed a single thing. Standing in the doorway, he watched, admired, and nourished himself with the magnificent view before him. Kneeling on the bed facing him, she knew he was there. Even though her eyes were closed, she felt his presence, heard his heavy breathing. And then there was the rustling of his clothes every time he adjusted his position or reached for his swollen crotch.
It was one of the hottest things she had ever experienced. The desire was so strong it was palpable. The smell of sex filled the room. A moan passed her lips as she opened her eyes to look at him, her breath leaving her lungs, making the air almost unbreathable because it was so saturated.
"Oh. No."
The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground brought him back to consciousness. Then it took him several seconds to realize the voice that had spoken just before the impact, what it had said and who it belonged to. Turning towards the door, Dean's eyes were wide open, the green almost disappearing from his irises because his pupils were so dilated.
Her face was not in any better condition. As her eyes, wide with fear and shame, moved between what he was holding and the box behind him and finally settling on him, Dean could see the embarrassment quickly filling her being.
“What is this?”
Still shocked by his discovery and what it implied, these words were the first and only ones that had managed to escape his lips. Obviously, he knew what it was, and what it was for. However, he needed to hear it from her mouth. To confirm what his eyes had already understood.
His question only made her more uncomfortable.
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” she muttered under her breath, lowering her head and crossing the distance between them to grab the dildo and remove it from the hunter’s hands. All this to hide the evidence that had already been consumed, unfortunately. “Please, forget about it,” she pleaded, still refusing to meet his gaze. Her hand resting next to Dean's on the dildo, she tried to take it back, but was surprised to see that he didn't want to let it go. “Dean?”
“It’s impossible,” his voice was low, almost a breath lost in the tension of the air. “Unfortunately… I’m turned on by that. And here I thought you were all pure and shy…” Taking a pause in his words only made the state Y/n was in worse. Next to Dean, she felt his breath against her cheek, and the heat of his body. It was heavy, his chest moving in time with his harsh breathing. As if he had to do everything to hold back. “I waited for you to be ready, and I'll still wait but… Y/n…” As she still refused to raise her head and meet his gaze, Dean took his other hand, the one that wasn't holding the dildo, to gently lift Y/n’s chin. “Thinking about you touching yourself with that… oh fuck, it’s hot, sweetheart.”
“Yeah?” A shy smile appeared on her lips, her eyes watering at how she was embarrassed but still... Very excited by this idea.
“Oh yeah,” Dean swallowed, his green eyes darting from Y/n's lips to her eyes, then back to her lips. Like two magnets held too far apart, but at the same time too close, it was inevitable.
Dean pressed his mouth to Y/n’s, kissing her forcefully. The dildo was quickly put aside, both needing their hands to touch the other. Dean placed his on Y/n's waist, and her around his neck. Her nails scratched the soft part of his neck, leaving red marks he would never see. It was intense, they almost devoured each other with an insatiable appetite. Opening her lips, Y/n stuck her tongue out barely, just enough to give access to Dean who was quick to push his tongue into her mouth. The kiss became languorous, messy, even, and Y/n backed into a box and almost fell. Dean broke the kiss to ask if she was okay, but she silenced him by replacing her lips on his to continue the kiss.
Their mouths didn't leave each other as clothes flew around the room, some getting stuck on boxes while others fell to the floor. Eventually, they managed to maneuver through the mountains of boxes to get to the bed. Y/n plopped down on the mattress and laughed against Dean’s mouth which only took a second to find its way back to hers. Now both were shirtless and their hands explored each other without stopping.
Finally, Y/n broke the kiss to speak.
“I want you to watch me.”
“What?” Dean was panting, his erection so painful in his pants he was afraid it would explode at the slightest touch. Like a hungry lion demanding its prey, he tried to grab Y/n's lips but she refused him access by placing her fingers between them.
“I want you to watch me use the toy…” If she was an angel a few moments ago, the Y/n he had, lying under him on the bed, half naked, was a little devil hidden under the appearance of a Saint.
Just the thought of seeing her in real life masturbating with the monster he had found made Dean gulp and push himself up so he was on his knees. His face was so red, he had trouble understanding how there could still be blood in his length.
“Are you sure? I mean, I… I can’t say no to that, fuck, but… I don’t want you to feel forced or…”
“Dean,” she interrupted, a smile tugging at her lips. “I really want to. And I know you want it too.” Y/n took a deep, slightly shaky breath before continuing. “So… Bring me the one you want me to use… And get comfortable.”
Dean swallowed and looked at his girlfriend's face. Since he had known her, they had never been this far in their intimacy. And he would never have imagined that she had this in her. Obviously he was surprised, but it was a very pleasant surprise. Like an excited child on Christmas morning, Dean rushed to the box of adult toys and once again admired all the choices presented to him. Each of them infused an image, each more erotic than the other, into his mind. For a moment, he hesitated to take the monster he had found shortly before, but decided that for now, this view was better in his mind. And he didn't want to embarrass Y/n even more than she was, what she was proposing was very intimate, very sexy, but also terribly hard to do. To open up like this, to show yourself like this...
Dean returned to his girlfriend, a box in hand. “This one,” he held out the box, knowing full well what it contained. Y/n took it, hesitated for a few seconds while staring at it in her hands. Just as Dean was about to repeat that she didn't have to, that they could continue to just makeout and that was okay, she opened the box and took out the toy.
It was a simple one. No vibration, just a flesh colored dildo with suction at the bottom. It wasn’t the biggest she owned, but it was still big, almost as big as Dean’s cock. So to see her use this, he could easily picture him in her…
Just the thought sent another wave of arousal down his pants.
“Do you need a moment, or lube or…” Dean was still standing up near the bed as she was on her knees on the mattress. For the first time, he was clueless and didn't know what to do. And yet, it was not his first time, nor the last, that he had more kinky moments with his partner. But Y/n was different, she wasn't just his sexual partner, but the woman he loved. And the prospect of getting even closer and more intimate was worth more than any sex he could have.
“I want you to watch the whole thing,” Y/n replied, lifting her ass off the mattress just enough to undo her pants and pull them down along with her panties with just one hand. In an almost expert manner, she finished undressing herself with one hand, her other never letting go of the toy. “You can sit down, you know,” she laughed when she saw Dean still standing where he was, stiff as a stick.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he sat on the edge of the bed and turned his body towards her. It was like he was back at 15 with the most popular girl in school, ready for his first time. Nervousness filled his entire being, along with excitement, and if he wasn't so experienced years later, his erection would have disappeared or he would have come prematurely in his pants.
Dean silently thanked all the girls he had in the past that strengthened his stamina.
“How do you want me to use it?” 
Dean could see how nervous she was. It was the first time she was completely naked in front of him, and her body was shaking ever so slightly, shivers that covered her soft skin in goosebumps. But yet, through that nervousness, she was freaking sexy. Still kneeling, she was slowly stroking her intimacy with the toy, coating it with her wetness. And without asking, Dean knew she wouldn’t need any lube.
“Just… Like this, you can ride it…” The words got out of his mouth by automatism. Truth was, Dean was half there now, so excited and focused on her, a part of his mind was shut down. It was so hot, he couldn’t detach his eyes from her body, the way the toy rubbed through her lower lips, how her hips rocked back on it, and her face, so soft, so cute, so embarrassed… With eyes burning in a strong passion.
“Okay,” she whispered. Time seemed to slow down. Dean could feel his heart beating in his head and in his crotch, the intensity growing with each movement she made. Straightening up, she placed the dildo behind her, careful to align it with her entrance, and opened up her legs to let Dean continue watching. 
And he could see it all.
It was better than everything he could ever imagine.
The toy was big, but she was probably very wet and very used to it, because it didn’t take long for her to lower down on it. Inch by inch, the dildo disappeared into her entrance until it was almost completely gone. Her body was bent back, her chest glistening with sweat and the cutest moan left her lips.
“Fuck,” Dean groaned. It was too much, so he rushed to open his pants, just enough to free his aching cock. The simple touch sent thousands of electrical shocks of pleasure through his body, but still, his eyes were fixed on her. “You’re so hot, I don’t think I’ll last long,” he held the base of his cock stronger to avoid his climax.
“I don’t think I’ll last long either,” she whimpered. She had started moving already, slowly, up and down on the toy. Since she was on the bed, the succion was useless and she had to hold it with one hand. Dean could see how wet she was on the dildo, and imagined how warm it had to be inside.
Another groan whistled through his teeth.
“Hmmm,” she moaned, picking up speed. “It feels so good… Dean… Look at me…”
He didn’t notice, but his gaze was so focused on the toy and her pussy, he didn’t even look at her face. Blinking hard, he looked up, and when he saw her face, twisted in pleasure, he couldn’t help it.
His hand started moving on his cock at the same rhythm as her.
“Can’t wait to be inside of you,” Dean muttered through his rashing breath. “Must feel so warm in there, and you’re so wet, fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me.”
As an answer, she moaned and closed her eyes for a second. But quickly, she set her gaze on him again, even if it had to be the most embarrassing thing she ever did. She wanted to watch him watch her, watch him stroke his cock, watch him cum with her. “Soon… I promise, soon, you’ll have me, you’ll fuck me as much as you want, whenever you want… I'm ah... All yours, Dean..."
"Y/n." Dean could only say that. Again and again, moaning her name as she continued moving on the toy. "Y/n..."
"Dean, I’m gonna cum, oh my god, I’m…”
It was stronger than her. Never before did she come with only a dildo in her, it always took her hands or a vibrator on her clit to reach the end. But right now, in front of her boyfriend masturbating with her, it was too much. It felt so good. 
In an explosion of pleasure, her orgasm ripped through her in a scream. She closed her eyes, her body shaking, her wetness flooding under her and on her bed. But she so didn’t care about this right now.
It took a few moments for her to regain her hearing back, and a few more moments to open her eyes. It was strong, and she suddenly felt so tired, like the world came crashing back on her. Feeling like she could sleep for a whole day without waking up.
Y/n landed her eyes on the man in front of her. Dean had his head bent back, eyes closed, mouth parted. Lower, his cock was still a bit hard, and his release was covering his hand.
“Oh,” she said sadly, realizing she didn’t see him cum. At least, they came together.
“Oh,” Dean repeated, finally opening his eyes to land them on her. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen and done,” he admitted, a silly smile filling up his face. So he was too, drunk on pleasure.
“Yeah,” she admitted, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. Wow. They did it. They actually did it. Her joy, thought, left her face quickly as she realized something. “Fuck.”
“What is it?” Dean immediately went on protective boyfriend mode when he heard the change in her voice.
“I think I…” Y/n’s voice was small, so small and shy as she lifted herself from the spot she was in, removing carefully the dildo from her, and looked at the mess she made. “It never happened before, but now my bed… I don’t think I can use it anymore… Oh no…”
“Sweetheart,” Dean rushed to her side, quickly putting himself back in his pants even if he was messy with his release as well. “It’s alright. There’s plenty of other room in the bunker, with other beds.”
“But,” she stammered, her gaze looking down at her hands. “What if I want to… Use your bed, with you?” 
Y/n ended up looking up at him, their gaze meeting.
A soft kiss on her lips answered her question, and all of her insecurities washed away.
“My bed is yours, sweetheart. We can always use this room for your books, I’ll ask Sam to help building shelves and-”
Another kiss, this time, more powerful, interrupted his sentence. “God, I love you so much.”
Babum.
The words he never said back before.
Dean thought they would be hard to say. Impossible, even. But he surprised himself with how easy it actually was.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
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Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa​​ @wickedinspirations​@fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive​​ @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore
Supernatural Tag List: @peachyaliien @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ @lyarr24 @fiftyshadesgrl @this-is-me19
Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278​​ @kazsrm67​​​ @wtrpxrks @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies​​​ @charred-angelwings @jensendreamland​ @deanswaywardgirl​​​ @happyt0exist @waynes-multiverse​​​ @djs8891 @mimaria420 @this-is-me1​​​ @syrma-sensei
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aedearly · 4 days ago
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✎ . . . 𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑴𝑬 𝑨 𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑹.
₊˚⊹ a collection of loose poem verses, quotes or lyrics from various books and chansons. most were written originally in portuguese or french, and were translated to english by me. some are extracted from personal poems, as well! they all have some type of religious reference/motif. writing/roleplaying prompts. from fluff to angst and suggestive! feel free to edit as you see fit.
❝ i never felt more alive than when you called me your angel. ❞ ❝ saints above help me… don’t look at me like that. ❞ ❝ admit it, you’d have taken a bite out of eden, too. ❞ ❝ what are you waiting for? pray. ❞ ❝ confess. repent. repeat. ❞ ❝ for you? i will be any believer you want me to be. ❞ ❝ run away with me, where no gods can find us. ❞ ❝ i begged for a miracle. instead, i got you. ❞ ❝ you smell like the devil. ❞ ❝ where is your faith now? ❞ ❝ call me a sinner. ❞ ❝ the way you call my name sounds like heresy. ❞ ❝ in your gaze, i find my prayers answered. ❞ ❝ your lips are scriptures i long to memorise. ❞ ❝ even silence feels sanctified like this. ❞ ❝ when you embraced me, i felt like i was cradled by divinity. ❞ ❝ i do not wish for the stars to hear us now. ❞ ❝ meet me at our shared altar, where our ghosts can dance. ❞ ❝ kiss my hand. make me feel holy. ❞ ❝ your love feels like a fallen angel’s curse. ❞ ❝ please, can’t you be my sanctuary tonight? ❞ ❝ should i kneel and beg you to look at me again? as if you’re a saint? ❞ ❝ worship does not come cheap. ❞ ❝ must i pay for my sins? cry for forgiveness? ❞ ❝ hate me, blame me, crucify me; just please don’t walk away. ❞ ❝ i do not know how else to love you if not like a sinner. ❞ ❝ you were my redemption; now you are my ruin. ❞ ❝ the weight of your absence is my penance to bear. ❞ ❝ i built cathedrals of dreams, and you razed them to dust. ❞ ❝ you’re a hymn that haunts my mind at midnight. ❞ ❝ you left me bleeding for you, devoted—abandoned. ❞ ❝ i prayed to forget you, but even the heavens refused. ❞ ❝ do not tempt me with your promises. ❞ ❝ hellfire has nothing to your touch. ❞
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deanbrainrotwritings · 1 year ago
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jacklesverse bingo 2023 | MASTERLIST
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most of these will be 18+ stories that include sexual or dark themes, individual warnings will be added for each one
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hello y’all this is my first bingo and I’m so excited to start and finish my @jacklesversebingo card.
— eris
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guidebook for sinners turned saints [smut, 8.8k]
description— dean uses the sexiest seduction methods to get laid when he keeps getting cockblocked by his gaming girlfriend.
mon cœur s’ouvre à ta voix [smut, 5k]
description — aka. part II of mattel. finally, in the privacy of your home, you find the willpower to make the afternoon all about dean (as you’d originally hoped) when he tries to distract you from your plans.
and their name was treason [gen, 2k]
description — with the help of charlie, sam and Dean have become prolific con artists. but after losing his work, dean’s left wondering how do you con a con artist?
the love letter collection : part II [fluff, 2.6k]
description — being a dreamwalker, seeing every universe, having a hot boyfriend. there’s a million perks to that. this is the soft version.
seven [smut, 5.2k]
description — dean would rather be doing something else with his time rather than doing research, he’d rather be doing her.
the politics of knife fighting [flangst, 4.5k]
description — tom tried to live a normal life after getting away from his hometown, but he should’ve known his little slice of heaven would go bad eventually.
closer than this [smut, 2.2k]
description — something quick. something hot. in between busy tasks. when everyone else is distracted.
hero of the half-truth [smut, 3.7k]
description — you can’t decide whether it’s a punishment or not when you go to see soldier boy knowing that he’s trying to keep you safe from everything in his life
demonology and heartache [smut, 4.9k]
description — dean is a devout catholic and has never known a life outside the church, all his resolve is broken by the temptation of a hellish seductress.
mattel [smut, 2.9k]
description — looking for some new toys to spice up the bedroom, Dean discloses his insecurities and leaves you thinking of ways to help erase them.
same book but never the same page [fluff, 5.6k]
description — part III of the love letter collection. still dreamwalking. chasing after someone who can destroy worlds. and dean is jealous of his variants. what could go wrong?
two hearted [smut, 4.8k]
description — playing pretend, doing risky things, improv, Valentine’s Day is more than “unattached drifter Christmas” now.
sweet kansas honey [smut, 1.5k]
description — invited by her friend to a bee farm, but Dean wasn’t invited to their cute day out. Dean gets pouty… and, ya know, horny.
colder than my heart, if you can imagine [gen, 2.3k]
description — you and soldier boy can’t seem to get along, but it may be because of something deeper than hatred or jealousy.
the love letter collection : part I [smut, 11k]
description — being a dreamwalker, seeing every universe, having a hot boyfriend. there’s a million perks to that. this is the sad version.
god, if you are above [smut, 1.8k]
description — technically part two of demonology and heartache (which I haven’t posted, yet). an au in which dean is a priest and the reader is a demon with an obsession to corrupt him.
the pros and cons of breathing masterlist [smut, ?]
description — dean gets his bloodlust under control and becomes a baker. then he meets you and there's a whole other lust that takes him over. were you his unmaking or purpose?
stone flower [fluff, 1.9k]
description — aka. part II of I believe in a thing called loved. quickly attempting to find out what’s wrong with his girlfriend, dean makes a dreadful (objectively funny) discovery about what’s actually going on
I believe in a thing called love [smut, 4.2k]
description — dean thinks you’re playing a game but he slowly realises you’re not.
right people, wrong place [smut, 3.3k]
description — aka. part II of and their name was treason. confrontations and unexpected turn of events. the truth and the consequences.
when broken is easily fixed [fluff, 2.7k]
description — priestly broke up with tish (yes!) uh, i mean… you watch him be pathetic and sad with his big wet green eyes and decide to do something about it.
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taglist
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main masterlist
dean winchester masterlist
beau arlen masterlist
soldier boy masterlist
jensen ackles masterlist
jake gray masterlist
boaz priestly masterlist
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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 
do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform
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277 notes · View notes
babyhatesreality · 3 months ago
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The Sinner and the Saint Ch 14
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Pairing: Mob!Boss Bucky x f!reader
Warnings: NSFW, f!reader, language, reader is referred to by her stage name of Angel, reader is an exotic dancer, pet names, everybody has secrets, reader is insecure and self deprecating (especially in this one), dominant mob boss Bucky, submissive reader, sir/daddy kink, slight bratting, scolding, spanking, color system and safe word in place- yellow used, angst, tears, teasing, edging, oral (f receiving), nipple play, p in v, slight marking, aftercare.
A/N- this one is just straight up porn. The next one advances the plot, I promise. But I do hope you enjoy this dirty little chapter ;D.
YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. MINORS DNI. THIS IS AN 18+ STORY ONLY AND IS NS/FW. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE COPIED, REPRINTED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY PLATFORM EXCEPT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs deeply appreciated.
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
"I believe someone needs to be punished."
Your veins ran cold at his words. When Bucky told you he was going to punish you, you were IN for it. You swallowed hard as you watched his gorgeously sculpted features quietly and artfully rearrange themselves into your Dominant Daddy. Your Powerful, Dominant Daddy. Your Powerful, Dominant, Very Angry Daddy. Aw, fuck.
He locked his gaze on you. His normally warm and ocean blue eyes had turned to deadly ice, but his composure was completely calm and collected. You weren't fooled. That look was dangerous. It didn't take much to imagine how he had climbed the ranks in the criminal world when he had mastered that look.
He slowly took off the black Armani suit jacket he was wearing, his eyes still boring into yours. "How's the soundproofing in this apartment?" he asked casually, as if he was asking about the weather. He folded the jacket neatly, moving his gaze from you for two seconds to see where he could put it. When he realized that he was arm's length from both a kitchen chair and the living room sofa at the same time, you saw a flicker of consternation pass over his face. You just knew he was inwardly sneering at your tiny apartment, and as nervous as you were for what you had coming, it still set off a tiny spark in you that your idiot brain jumped at.
"Why? You gonna shoot me and get your boys to hide the body?" you asked sassily. Bucky's eyes slid back over to you instantly. And narrowed even more.
Bad move. OH very bad move. Shit.
His furious steel eyes locked back on you, he draped his fitted and folded jacket over the back of the kitchen chair. "Answer my question, Angel," he said in that calm, deadly voice of his. He was done fucking around and you knew it.
You tried not to make your gulp incredibly obvious. "Um, well," you stammered, any trace of the brat completely gone. "It's....I can sometimes hear my neighbors if they're fighting. But that's usually it," you murmured, knowing it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference.
"Well, then I guess you're going to have to keep quiet, aren't you?" Bucky said silkily. He walked past you slowly. As he did, he raised his right hand, and snapped the wrist cuff button on his crisp white shirt open. A shiver went through your entire body. He continued to hold your gaze, ever-so-slowly rolling up the right sleeve of his shirt as he sat himself down on your minuscule couch. "Come here," he commanded softly, before opening his left wrist cuff.
"Daddy, I'm really sorry I-"
"NOW."
You scurried into place in front of him, between his wide spread legs, watching him roll the sleeve of his metal arm up. FUCK. You were about to get the tanning of your life. You licked your lips, your mouth suddenly dry as all the wetness in your body flooded in between your legs. "Sorry, Daddy," you said, watching him turn the final fold on his sleeve. He said nothing, but waited for you to turn your gaze back to him. You did with a slight whimper.
"None of that," he said sternly. "You will not utter a single word tonight unless I give you permission to, or ask you a question. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Glad you're finally starting to listen. Now turn to your right."
You did as you were told, your left hip now facing him, hating it when he dragged it out like this. He knew you hated it, which is exactly why he did it when you were being punished. But his next command was unexpected.
"Put your hands on your thighs and keep them there."
Odd. He usually made you bend over his knee for a spanking. You risked turning your head a bit to see what he was up to, and found him smirking mockingly at you.
"Can't keep your eyes off Daddy, hmm? That's fine baby. I can't keep my eyes off you either. But that was the problem tonight, wasn't it? You not staying under Daddy's watch. Tsk, tsk, tsk." And with that, he delivered a hard slap to your ass with his right hand. You bit down on the sudden cry that wanted to escape your lips at the pain blossoming across your backside. Your head snapped forward as you inhaled sharply.
Before you could recover, Bucky reached up and ran his metal fingers over your still clothed clit. He began slowly dragging them back and forth between your legs, his eyes watching your face as you began dancing on that line between pain and pleasure. You choked on the moan of desire, doing your best to be quiet as he commanded. Just when it started feeling really good, Bucky spanked you so fast and so hard it made tears spring to your eyes, as he held you in place with his left hand.
"That's right, little girl. Gonna blister that pretty little bottom of yours real good tonight. And I've already arranged for you to have the day off tomorrow so no one will see that gorgeous bruised butt...except me."
You couldn't help it- you turned back to him in disbelief. You hated it when he interfered with your work and he knew it. That tiny idiot part of your brain took control again as your gaze challenged him.
Even BIGGER mistake than before. Oopsie, oopsie, BIG oopsie.
The metal fingers immediately stopped rubbing. Bucky put his huge right hand on your ass, right where you were sure there was already a handprint. "You got something to say little girl?" he said in that deadly tone.
Finally coming to your senses, you shook your head, rocking from foot to foot in your nervous state. "N-no, sir," you whispered, dropping your gaze abashedly to his lap. You definitely saw something twitch in the front of his pants when you said that.
"That's better," he said in that arrogant way he had. You gritted your teeth, expecting another spank, but instead, he withdrew both hands. "Pull your pants down to your knees."
Biting your lip, you did as he told you to. Your insides clenched as you straightened back up. Somehow, standing up and to the side of your Dom with your bare bottom out on display, just waiting to be spanked, was more humiliating that being over his knee. And far less intimate. It started to sink in when you realized that. The lack of intimacy right now showed you how upset he felt at your unsafe choice. You started to truly understand how much you'd disappointed him by not staying put.
Bucky's metal fingers resumed their previous position between your legs. You gasped as the coolness of the metal reacted with the heat of your folds. You were never more aware of your arousal than when Bucky's metal fingers were down there, slipping and sliding, spreading it all around. Without warning, he delivered another three searing spanks to your now exposed butt, making you gasp and try desperately to keep quiet.
"What did I tell you about staying put, hm?" SPANK. "About doing what you're told? Didn't I tell you..." SPANK SPANK SPANK. "...how important it was to me that you were safe?" SPANK SPANK. "About how I don't-" SPANK "-like-" SPANK "-being-" SPANK "-without you?" SPANK SPANK SPANK. "Do you know what could have happened to you?" SPANK. "And do you know if something had happened to you-" SPANK SPANK. "-that it would have killed me?" SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK.
By this time, it was all you could do to keep your sobs silent. The complete realization of his disappointment in you had smacked you harder than he ever could. He loved you, he cared about you, and he really hadn't asked for anything unreasonable. Besides, he was right- anything could have happened. You remembered the man cat calling, and a sudden prickle of fear of what could have happened sent you over the edge. The tears were coursing down your face, and you let out the tiniest involuntary whimper.
Bucky had been waiting for that. He knew that you had felt bad, but it wasn't until the dam burst that he knew you truly understood the lesson he was trying to teach you. When he saw your tears, his heart twisted. His right palm went from a rock-hard flat paddle to gently stroking your sore, ruby-red bottom. His left hand never stopped gently rubbing your clit.
"There's my good girl," he said soothingly, which made you start to cry even harder, unable to stay quiet. Finally taking pity on you, Bucky pulled you into his lap, taking care to make sure your backside was between his legs so he could continue stroking it to calm the punished flesh. "Shhh, baby, you did so good for me. So good. There's my pretty girl. There's my good girl. You can cry, it's okay. Daddy's got you."
You wound your arms around his neck and buried your face. "I'm...I'm so-sorry...." you sobbed, knowing that he hadn't given you permission to speak yet but desperately needing to say it.
Bucky held you tight and continued rubbing your bottom. "I know you are, baby. I know. And you took that part of your punishment so well. I'm very proud of you. But you know that it's not over, right?" He tilted his head a bit to look you in the eye. You nodded miserably. "What's your color?"
The two of you used the color system- green for go, yellow for slow down, and red for stop. You also had a safe word, just in case, and hand signals if you were unable to speak or went non-verbal. Bucky took good care of you, no matter what the circumstances. Even if you had done the most horrible things and you were getting the punishment you very rightly deserved, he would always check on your colors. He abhorred the idea of pushing you past your limits, not that he didn't mind getting right up to the line, and so would always, always check in with you. And that realization, that you had made someone who loved you enough to check in with you so disappointed, made you feel like the lowest worm.
"I'm green, Sir," you said in a tiny voice. Bucky's eyes narrowed in thought at your tone. There was something wrong and you weren't telling him. His tone shifted back to the warmth that it usually had only for you.
"Are you sure, baby?"
"Yes, sir."
"Baby..." Bucky hesitated, but then decided to just go for it. "You're trying to push into the next part before you're ready. Why?"
"I need my punishment so I won't disappoint you anymore. I hate...that I've disappointed you and I won't do it again, so please punish me for being a stupid little shit."
Bucky's heart broke. Here he was again, up against your self-loathing. If it took the rest of his life, he was going to make you understand that you were loved and deserved to be loved, no matter what happened. "You are not a stupid little shit," he whispered to you as he cradled you into his chest. "You are my Angel. My light and my love. You made a bad choice, but that is not all you are. You hear me?
You sniffed in a very unladylike way and gave a half hearted nod. You wanted to believe his words with all your heart, but it was so hard...
"Baby, I want you to focus on your mind for a moment. I'll ask you for your color again soon, but right now, I'm at a yellow, okay? I can't see you hurting yourself like this. I want to make sure you're okay."
You leaned away from him, surprised. "You...you..." you stammered, unable to even put together a sentence in your shock that he gave you a yellow because he was worried about you.
Bucky smiled that soft smile that made your heart melt. He brushed the hair away from your face, and you caught the scent of your arousal on his fingers. "I told you, it's my job to take care of you. Inside and out. And I know that you are sorry for what you did." His smile widened a bit sadly as he saw the look of shock on your face. "Go ahead and tell Daddy what you're really feeling, Angel."
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I really am, Daddy, I'm so sorry..." you blabbered, before diving back into the crook of his neck and crying softly all over again. He gently kissed your forehead.
"I know Baby. So now you've gotta forgive yourself too, you hear me?"
"But you said my punishment wasn't over. Doesn't that mean...that you don't forgive me? Why should I forgive myself?" you mumbled, unable to look up.
"Ah, I see," Bucky said. "Poor choice of words on my part. You do like to keep me on my toes, don't you pretty girl?" He chuckled, but when you didn't respond, he simply laid his cheek back down on the top of your head. "Let's say the next part isn't a punishment, then. Let's say it's...a deterrent."
"A deterrent?"
"So you never, ever, walk down the streets of New York alone late at night anymore. You've taken your punishment for doing it- now I want to give you something to think about if you're ever tempted to do it again."
"How is that not a punishment?"
"Well, you just might enjoy it."
"Enjoy it how?"
"Daddy can't give away all his secrets up front, now can he?" Bucky said, that hint of mischief sneaking into his voice. A rush of endorphins flooded your system at hearing that tone. It was a siren's call to take another hit of the drug known as Bucky Barnes. My god it was divine, heavenly, even in the midst of your emotional chaos. "So because I don't think you're going to believe me until I say this....I forgive you."
He straight up snorted at you when you sat back this time, your jaw on the floor. You looked so cute and sweet, he couldn't help himself. "You...you do?" you stammered in disbelief.
"I do."
You could do nothing but stare for a moment. You unwound your arms from his neck, placing your hands on either side of his face. "I truly am so sorry, Bucky," you whispered, your eyes brimming with tears as you held his gaze. "I didn't mean to make you worry or stress. I just....it's still new, for someone to...." you trailed off.
"For someone to take care of you," Bucky finished gently, before giving you a wide, shit-eating grin. "Well, get used to it, woman." A giggle suddenly burst forth, breaking the tension and heartache. Bucky pulled you to him again, pressing his warm lips to yours, offering you a benediction. As you did earlier today -or was it yesterday as it was well past midnight?- you got lost in his kiss, your heart relaxing, knowing that you had his forgiveness.
Eventually, Bucky broke the kiss. "Color?" he asked sweetly.
"Green, Daddy," you said, giving him a genuine smile this time.
He grinned wickedly. "Excellent." He immediately stood up, holding you in his arms, and marched in the direction of your bedroom. As the place was tiny, it was pretty obvious which direction to go in, and before you could do more then squeak in surprise, you were back on your feet by your bed. You'd lost the sleep shorts that had been bunched around your ankles by this time somewhere back in the hallway. Bucky leaned forward, looking you dead in the eye again. The Ice Monster was gone from his gaze, but now the Devil himself had taken his place.
"Now for this next part," Bucky said in that silky, low tone of his. "I'm going to see just how well you do at staying put." A tiny part of you prayed that meant he wasn't going to spank you anymore, as your ass was still on fire, but those words still sent a thrill up your spine. He reached down at the hem of your teeshirt and pulled it over your head. He held your hands, but took a step back to admire your body. It always made you blush a little when he did this, but you tried to hold it together for his sake. "Turn around," he said, that evil grin in his voice again. Suppressing your urge to roll your eyes, you turned and gave him exactly what you knew he wanted.
Bucky's greedy hands trailed down your back, until he gently squeezed your still sore bottom. "Nice and warm, just like I like it," he purred in your ear, before spinning you back around. He locked eyes with you and began slowly unbuttoning his white shirt. You didn't notice the smug grin on his face as you were breathless just watching him undress. He finally shrugged it off, and made short work of his white undershirt as well. You desperately wanted to run your hands over his muscular chest and abs, but he hadn't given you permission to do so.
"Good girl," he said in a husky voice, noting your restraint. How the hell did he always know what you were thinking? "Good girl not touching until you're told to. But...I do think that I'll need some help...with these." His palm slowly grazed over his zipper, where you could clearly see the outline of his erection. Without missing a beat you unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and slid the zipper down, trying to go slowly but needing him so bad it was anything but slow. He chuckled as he toed off his shoes. "On your knees," he said softly. You knelt down, slowly pulling his pants down as you did so. He carefully stepped out of them with your assistance.
You looked up at him, biting your lip, praying that he was going to let you take him in your mouth. He only smirked at you. "Socks, baby," he said. You quickly peeled his socks off, then went back to your Bambi eyes. He chuckled again- god you loved when he softly laughed in these intimate moments- clad only in his tight black undershorts. "Up you go," he ordered.
Fighting the urge to pout, you remembered that you still had a lesson to learn, and so you obeyed instantly, looking up at him demurely. Bucky put a hand behind your head and one around your waist, and pulled you in for a heated, searing kiss. You wrapped your arms around him as he carefully navigated the two of you to the bed, laying you down gently. He stepped back, and while keeping eye contact with you, removed his boxer briefs. He reached down, wrapping his right hand around his cock, giving you a good show.
"Now, let's see if my girl can stay where she's put," he said, slowly stroking himself as he walked back towards the foot of the bed.
"Yes, sir," you said, breathless with anticipation, your mouth dry. You spread your legs, hoping....
"Bend your knees and hold them underneath with your hands," Bucky ordered you, still stroking his painfully hard cock, watching your every move. You did as he said. "Now spread your knees apart."
You obeyed, and a delicious moan escaped his lips, seeing your gorgeous pussy spread just for him. Bucky put one knee on the bed and leaned over you, bracing himself on his left hand as he used his right to stroke your slit with his cock, teasing you. You threw your head back, crying out already at his sensual touch.
"Now," he said in that soft, dominant tone that made your insides turn to liquid. "Don't remove your hands. You keep them in place. Hold your knees and keep yourself splayed out, just like this. Don't let go. Don't move. No begging for anything, no matter what. Make all the noise you want, but no begging. If you can do that for me, if you can stay put in this position that I put you in until I'm done having my fun, I'll let you cum. Understand?"
"Yes, sir, yes I understand!"
"Good."
And then he began the most delicious torture of your life. You gasped and moaned, making noises that you were sure had never escaped your lips before, as Bucky oh-so-slowly teased you to the point of collapse. He kissed your soaking core, letting his tongue continue what his fingers had started earlier, sucking hard on your clit. He dragged the tip of his erection all over your folds, but never placed it where you desperately wanted it to go. He let his hands roam over your bent legs, your torso, your neck, your arms. He suckled and nipped at your breasts for a good ten minutes, which nearly drove you insane. But you didn't beg and you didn't let go. You were determined to be his good girl, no matter how close to the edge you were.
You lost track of time, completely awash in the sensations and sounds that the both of you were making, and so when Bucky finally, FINALLY slid into you suddenly, you gasped and arched your back so violently you nearly bucked off the mattress. You were so wet he hadn't even needed to use lube, and the stretch burned but also felt unbelievable. He wrapped his hands around your thighs, using your bent legs to make his thrusts snap even harder. The grunts and growls of pleasure he was making as he watched the sensations begin to overtake you were almost enough to make you cum on the spot.
"You're gonna stay put from now on when I tell you to, right?" Bucky asked, his voice strained as he pumped into you, before giving you a good smack on your right butt cheek.
"Yes, sir!! Yes, Daddy, I'll be good!" you gasped as the glorious burn reignited from your spanking. The mix of pleasure and pain fucked with your brain in the absolute best way, crashing through your brain and body like a flood.
"You swear it?" he asked, his voice tightening as he picked up the pace a bit, then gave you a matching swat on your left.
"Oh god yes, I swear, I promise, I swear!" you wailed, not giving a shit if your bedroom was truly soundproofed or not.
"Gonna be Daddy's good girl?"
"So good, so good for you Daddy!"
"Only for Daddy?"
"Only for you, Daddy! Only for you!"
"Good girl. Cum for Daddy," Bucky ordered, before his thrusts became frantic, and he growled as his own release built. That last growl completely sent you over the edge. The orgasm went on and on as he fucked you until he came, giving another feral cry as he poured himself into you.
As you both came down, the pain of the position that you were in began creeping into your body. Before you even realized that you had let out a tiny whimper, Bucky reached under your knees, sliding his fingers between your hands and your legs, breaking the death grip you hand on them.
"Go ahead, you can let go now," he purred, still catching his own breath. "Did so good for me, baby, so damn good." He quickly laid your hands down on either side of you, using his torso to help brace your still bent legs. Oh so carefully, he put his hands under your knees and slowly stretched your legs down and out. Once your legs were flat against the bed, he slowly began massaging your thighs, working out the burn and the soreness from keeping them bent and aloft so long. All the while, he kept murmuring to you how good you were for him, how beautiful, and how proud he was of you. The moment you could actually verbally respond to say 'Thank you Daddy', he had leaned down and kissed you on the lips.
"Gonna go get a washcloth and some lotion. I'll be right back, okay?" He grinned as you nodded and hummed happily. He raided your tiny bathroom, growling quietly to himself as he could barely fit in there and open your cabinet door at the same time. Oh, he was gonna get you to move in with him sooner rather than later, fuck this shit....
Bucky quickly shook off the thought, anxious to get back to you, and gathered the items he needed. As he stepped back into the bedroom, he noticed you were drinking water from a bottle beside your bed. He frowned a bit. "How long has that been there?" he said, laying down beside you with the warm, wet washcloth in his hand.
You shrugged, but immediately removed it from your lips. "Since I was here last," you answered. "Water doesn't go bad. It's fine. Here, you need to drink too." You held it out to him.
Bucky smiled as he began gently wiping between your still sensitive legs. "I'll get some in a moment, love," he said, focusing on his work. "You're my priority right now."
"But..." was all you said. He was about to scold you again for talking back, but as his eyes landed on your face, all he saw was care and compassion. And love. For him. No one ever looked at him that way. No one but you. "Please?" you added. And he was toast.
He gave you that shy smile that you rarely saw, and tilted his chin up to you in permission. The delighted smile that broke across your face made him feel like the best man on earth. You held the bottle to his lips and carefully tilted the water into his mouth, watching him to make sure he was drinking and not just placating you. When he broke away, he smiled down on you again.
"Thank you, my sweet angel. Now you finish the rest of that and let Daddy finish his work."
"Yes, sir," you said, exhausted and happy. You drained the bottle in small sips while Bucky finished cleaning you up, before quickly cleaning himself. He made you take two Advil and left only briefly to toss the washcloth into the sink, and was back next to you in a flash.
"Well, one thing I can say for how tiny this place is. I can get back to you quickly after stuff like that. Although, if it's in MY place, I don't give a shit about making a mess in the first place sooooooo...." he let that hang in the air, puckering his lips and making an exaggerated face, which caused you to giggle.
Using your mirth as a distraction, he quickly reached under you and flipped you over. The first time he had done this, it had scared the shit out of you, but now you were so used to him tossing you about like a rag doll during aftercare that you didn't do anything other than squeak in mild surprise.
Bucky took his time rubbing lotion into your still ruby red cheeks, and carefully applied Neosporin behind your knees, where, unbeknownst to you, you had nail indentations from where you'd dug your fingers in, trying so hard to be so good. He gently kissed each one of them, treasuring each red mark that you had given yourself to please him, before rubbing in the ointment, and continuing to massage to make sure that you were okay. Once he was sure it was all absorbed into your skin, he kissed your shoulder blade before flipping you back over. You giggled this time in response.
"Do you need anything else, baby?" he asked softly, unable to take his eyes from your gorgeous face.
"Just you," you whispered, reaching out for him. Bucky gladly obliged. He pulled you into his arms, scooting you both up so his head was on the pillow, and yours was on his chest. He began drawing slow lines all over your skin with a feather light touch, just like he knew you liked.
"I'm all yours," he whispered into your hair, and smiled as he felt you kiss his chest.
To Be Continued....
43 notes · View notes
halbarryweekfeed · 7 months ago
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Halbarry Week 2024
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Halbarry Week is August 5th through August 11th!
Post-Week Edit
See the Halbarry Week 2024 creations by art or fic! For more art, check out the #halbarryweek2024 on Instagram, and for even more fic, there’s the Ao3 Collection!
All types of fanworks are allowed and encouraged, for as many or as few days and prompts you'd like to participate in!  We look forward to seeing whatever drawings, stories, metas, edits, playlists, and ice sculptures you come up with!  Please just make sure to tag your content for potentially triggering material, and with the #Halbarry Week and/or #Halbarry Week 2024 so everyone can find your contributions!
Need ideas for the free day? See the full prompt poll list here!
We'll be posting reminders, answering questions, and reblogging participant WIPs here - @halbarryweekfeed - between now and the Week. We'll also be posting updates on Twitter and Instagram, and you can add Halbarry Week to your calendar here
If you have any questions, check out the Halbarry Week FAQ, send us an ask, DM the organizer @chocolateteapotsvis, or email [email protected]!
Full text prompts under the cut!
Monday, August 5 Rings Hero/Civilian "Well, now you're just embarrassing yourself."
Tuesday, August 6 Flirting Established Relationship "I always forget how powerful you are when you cut loose."
Wednesday, August 7 Sinner/Saint One Bad Day "Hello Barry. Having a hellacious time as usual. Wish you were here."
Thursday, August 8 Spectre Time Travel "Love is the opposite of choice."
Friday, August 9 The Little Things Mission Gone Wrong “Good times we could have shared. Bad times we could’ve helped each other through.”
Saturday, August 10 Starstruck Power Swap "Some teamwork." "Love you, too."
Sunday, August 11 Free Day
@dcfandomevents @dc-fandom-events
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orphicrose · 9 months ago
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The Co-Host (Alastor x FemReader) VIII
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Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.
Warnings ! ! Mentions of Death and Bl00D
@cannibalcoyote @kahlan170 @sugxryratz @multifandom-superlover
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Heart full of feelings that felt as if didn't belong to her. She felt like the shell of a person, not truly existing anymore. Having a constant out of body experience. 
While he, he grieved. Grieved a relationship that never had the chance to fully blossom. Grieved what could have been, grieved who he used to be or had the chance to be. Oh, what his mother must think of him now. He never even had a chance to think about what everyone still alive thought of him, his little secret having an audience to witness. Lose ends ruining his reputation as a beloved media presence, turning him into a notorious serial killer. He knew he belonged down here, he knew he deserved everything that came his way. But the question still begged, why was she down here. Was it because she sold her soul to th devil? Or was it for a reason far to unruly to share to the light. 
His hands sweat as the journal stay to close grip between his fingers. Never leaving his side. There was far more to read in a safer environment. His path was obstructed by a tall figure, appearing out of the thin air around him. 
"So we finally meet, Alastor" Satans demeanor cold, as usual, and his stance meaning one of business. Hands tucked neatly into his trouser pockets. 
"Satan, I assume?" Alastors smile gleamed in the light of the pentagram. Baring his sharp teeth like a predator. "How do i deserve this honor?"
Satan began to move towards the wendigo, towering over him. "As I'm sure you're aware, y/n works for me" He hummed, circling Alastor like he was going to attack at any second. "And you..." He paused to give out a deep laugh "Well, you are disrupting my line of production. You see, millions of sinners on Earth call my name daily. Wanting to make a deal. And the more souls I have, the more power I have. But y/n is the only one i trust far enough to have the duty of collecting said souls. and you" He leapt forward, holding Alastor's chin upwards with the tip of his cane. "You meddeling with her is distracting . You're costing me money, radio demon"
Eye contact was held strongly between the two, not wanting to fault to show weakness. "You want the closure of knowing your little pet isn't the saint you want to believe?" Alastor wanted to say no so badly, wanted to stay ignorant. Wanted to hold onto the belief that there was still hope for y/n to not be the same at him. He didn't want to be the Clyde to her Bonnie, he wanted to be the story she'd tell to friends in heaven. To her mother, or her father. 
"She's just like you" His voice taunted, leaning closer into his ear. The words he oh so desperately never wanted to hear. 
Y/n strolled through the lit up streets of hell, admiring the buildings towering over her. Something she had never really done before. Casual sinners in the streets cowering at the sight of her, leaving her a free path to walk in as they fled. Slamming doors behind them. What a skill to have, but how lonely it made her feel. 
She arrived at the doors of her place of work. At first, hesitating to open the doors. Afraid of what might wait on the other side this time. But when she did open them, she found nothing. Silence and isolation filled the chambers of the rooms. It was eerie. Usually tensions built with high stress levels as soon as she walked in, demons bouncing off each other as they run from room to room. But the haunting recent history of this workplace made it seemingly abandoned. Of course, they wouldn't get away with holiday for long, for as long as Satan breathed. But for now, she would revel in the periodic silence of the structure. 
Her office, the only untouched room in the building, brought her some comfort. Nothing having changed. Just as soon as she started to loosen up, her door flung open. The tall red demon appearing in front of her eyes. The same fear she felt the first time they encountered returning, sinking into her chair as he moved through the doorway and shut it behind him. "What do you want?" Her eyes showing a slowly boiling rage building up inside her. Seemingly, he was experiencing the same feeling. 
He took a seat opposite her, hands sat on the desk. "I want answers, miss l/n" She stood from her seat abruptly, moving backwards. His eyes turned from frustration to a saddened look. Confused as to her shift in temperament towards him. Had he missed something?
"When were you going to tell me we knew each other?" Her question caught him of guard, looking up to her and waiting for more. She relived the memory, him covered in blood. "What is this?" She slammed down the leaflet on the desk. Alastor let out a loud sigh, he must have forgotten to put it away yesterday. She spoke loudly, halfway to shouting at him. Tears welling and dropping slowly to the floor in a rhythmic pattern. 
"Are you the reason I'm down here? Did you murder me?"
"No!" His tone enraged by the accusation, rising to his feet to share her eyeline. "I think you'll find you're the reason I'm here, y/n"
She stood in silence, tears picking up there pace as they dampen her cheeks and collar. 
"When you left, I struggled. I lost myself along with you. I turned into someone I regret heavily" Alastor's voice cracked, dropping any radio sound effect he may have had. Struggling to maintain an effortless smile. "But it seems you weren't so much of a saint either"
"What? What do you mean?"
"You still don't remember?" 
The two stared at each other. Not truly understanding the wants or intentions of the other. 
"I- Only a small fragment. I remember coming back to Earth to see you. That's how i got this" She calmed herself down, seeing that miscommunication between the two would make the situation worse. "We were close?"
"Very"
"And I did something to hurt you?"
"You died, y/n" Alastor rubbed his temple, suppressing any tears that dared to gloss his eyes. "I don't care, as to why you're here. We both did terrible things. Things that you may or may not ever remember. But..." A deep breath was taken to help steady his shaky words. "But for you to go to the lengths to forget everything, it must mean I was never held as dear to you as you were to me"
Alastor knelt to pick up the microphone left astray on the floor, brushing off his tie when he came back to his feet. Then turning to leave. 
"I made myself forget because it hurt" She shouted, desperately wanting him to stay. "The pain of losing everything was to hard to deal with. I'm down here because of my own actions, that's on me. But I never excepted anyone I care about to follow me here"
She moved closer to him, needing more answers. Or some sort of closure. "What if i remembered everything? Then what? We continue where we left off?"
"No!" He turned "If you remembered me, and then realized what I am, you wouldn't even want to look at me" His face solemn. "I'd rather you only remembered one version of me, not both"
"So what do you want from me?"
He looked down to his feet. "Closure"
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noemilivv · 9 months ago
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Hazbin Hotel Masterlist (2)
Charlie — Hand Holding HCs
Tickle Fight HCs
Chaggie x Hotheaded!Reader
Poly!Chaggie x Awkward!Distracted!Reader
Charlie x Reader Ice Skating Date (HCs)
Crying + Comfort from Reader HCs
Charlie x Anxious!Reader HCs
Charlie + Stepmom!Reader HCs
Reader confesses their love (while drunk) HCs
“a winner’s reward” — oneshot
Vaggie — Hand Holding HCs
Chaggie x Hotheaded!Reader
Vaggie x Collecter!Reader (HCs)
Poly!Chaggie x Awkward!Distracted!Reader
Reader confesses their love (while drunk) HCs
Angel Dust — Hand Holding HCs
Tickle Fight HCs
“Ticking Bomb” Oneshot (Reverse Comfort)
Angel Dust x Scene!Reader (HCs)
Comforting them After a Nightmare
Reader accidentally breaks their wedding ring HCs
Reader confesses their love (while drunk) HCs
first date headcanons
Alastor — Hand Holding HCs
Alastor x Sensitive!Wife!Reader
Alastor x Opposite!Reader
“Swinging, Singing, Sinner” (Oneshot)
“Try One, They Help” (Oneshot)
Alastor x Sloth!Reader HCs
Happy!Child!Reader has a bad day HCs
Comforting them after a nightmare
Reader accidentally breaks their wedding ring HCs
Alastor x Overlord!Trio!Leader!Reader HCs
Reader wants a divorce HCs
first date headcanons
Sir Pentious — Hand Holding HCs
Tickle Fight HCs
Crying + Comfort from reader HCs
Curvy!Chubby!Reader HCs
Sir Pentious x Rodent!Reader HCs
Husk — Hand Holding HCs
Crying + Comfort from reader HCs
Happy!Child!Reader has a bad day HCs
Reader with toxic friend HCs
Curvy!Chubby!Reader HCs
Comforting them after a nightmare
“Accidents Happen”
Reader confesses their love (while drunk) HCs
Husk x Gender-fluid!Reader HCs
first date headcanons
Niffty — Coming soon!
Lucifer — “Sweet as Pie” (Oneshot)
Lucifer and S/O have a double date with Chaggie
Lucifer helps transmasc!reader with period dysphoria
Alastor tries to ‘steal’ Lucifer’s s/o
Lucifer x Sloth!Reader HCs
“Beat, Beat, Gone.”
Lucifer x Pregnant!AFAB!Reader
Comforting them after a nightmare
Reader confesses to them (while drunk) HCs
Lucifer x Gender-fluid!Reader HCs
Lucifer x Adam’s Best Friend!Reader HCs
Reader wants a divorce HCs
Adam — Crying + Comfort from reader HCs
Adam x Sloth!Reader HCs
Happy!Child!Reader has a bad day HCs
Adam x Band Mate!Reader
Adam x Secret!Singer!Reader
Adam + Adopted!Child!Reader HCs
Adam x Genderfluid!Reader HCs
Lute — “Stuck with a Sinner” (Oneshot)
Lute x Sloth!Reader HCs
Adam thinks Reader likes him (But they like Lute)
having an unrequited crush on lute
Emily — “Picture Smiles” Scenario
Saint Peter — Wholesome first time HCs
Vox — Vox x Reader who worries when he glitches
“Put Me Back Together” (Oneshot)
Hand Holding HCs
Tickle Fight HCs
Vox x Sloth!Reader HCs
Reader with toxic friend HCs
“Maybe Rom-Coms do Come True” (Vox x Reader x Velvette)
Curvy!Chubby!Reader HCs
Vox x Model!Reader HCs
Comforting them after a nightmare
Reader accidentally broke their wedding ring HC
Reader confesses their love (while drunk) HCs
Vox x Overlord!Trio!Leader!Reader HCs
Vox x Genderfluid!Reader HCs
Reader wants a divorce HCs
first date headcanons
Velvette — “Maybe Rom-Coms do Come True” (Vox x Reader x Velvette)
Velvette x Overlord!Trio!Leader!Reader HCs
first date headcanons
Rosie — Happy!Child!Reader has a bad day HCs
Rosie x Baker!Reader HCs
Cherri Bomb — “Five More Minutes…” (Oneshot)
Cherri Comforts Reader after they have a nightmare
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mrhaitch · 1 month ago
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Hello Mr.Haitch!
How are you??
I have me some questions today-
1) how do you keep your diet clean? I’m not one to indulge, but I’m such a picky eater that when I don’t like something I either go hungry all day, or ditch the food to binge on chips/ cup noodles etc. and I want to really break that cycle
2) if you were ever in a situation where there are two Haitchs, what will you do, or how will you differentiate the doppelgänger from the real Haitch?
3) what is something that you own, that you can absolutely go without but you still keep close/ insist on keeping/buying. (For me that would be my stacks of unused notebooks that I compulsively collect. I find them too pretty to write in😭)
4) call it morbid curiosity, but do you and Haitch ever go through the accounts that follow you? (Because I was scouring through my stuff sometimes thinking…what if they saw this or did they see this…is it cringe etc)
5) this is entirely optional and you can skip this, but Haitch’s handwriting is beautiful. Can you also do a handwriting reveal :0
That’s all!
Have a great evening!
1) At the moment, my diet is anything but clean. I'm naturally skinny so building muscle is a hard slog of constantly eating, constantly upping my intake. The boiled chicken, rice, and broccoli lifestyle gives me the creeps so focus on keeping my macros more or less where they should be and try not to go overboard. When I'm not bulking: I love salad and soups, and will often make my own.
2) If it's a clone situation- well, I'll look at that later. If it was the case of two people looking identical, to differentiate I'd have them watch me put the washing away.
3) Definitely the same - my ever increasing mound of notebooks.
4) I can't speak for @pseudowho, but yes I do occasionally flick through people's profiles.
5) This is a quote written on the board in my classroom which I occasionally use as a teaching tool:
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My handwriting is pretty appalling. The other quotes are arranged in a kind of arch around the edges:
"Keep a fire burning, no matter how small. No matter how hidden." - Cormac McCarthy
"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future." - Oscar Wilde
"Invent a flying machine or invent nothing at all, that is your own affair. You are pursuing an idea, that is enough." - Pyotr Kropotkin
"If you walk through life without helping anybody, then you haven't had much of a life." - Fred Hampton
"Stand for something, or you'll fall for anything." - Skindred
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walkingdetroit · 10 months ago
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Art in the Stations: Renaissance Center
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As I got off the People Mover at Renaissance Center, I was lead down a tunnel walkway from the platform and into a colorful tiled space. Home to the General Motors Headquarters, this is the same station you'd be able to use if you lived, worked, and played in the neighborhood. Home to restaurants and shops, the "Ren Cen" is a staple in the Detroit skyline.
"Path Games" by George Woodman features 2,625 ceramic tile modules, silk screened and manufactured in Italy. The vibrant design represents the connectivity of cultures in Detroit, linking together to create multi-colored orientations of continuous pattern. Throughout his 60-year career, Woodman explored color and abstraction in a variety of forms, including landscape, geometric, and patterned, and later pivoting toward figure, sculpture, and architecture. 
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Standing strong is "Siberian Ram," a cast-bronze sculpture by Marshall Fredericks with a Pewabic tile backdrop. The green tiles behind Siberian Ram were donated from Stroh's Brewing Company and can also be seen in this unique green color at Cadillac Center.
Fredericks was one of Michigan’s most prolific sculptors, with 29 in total. Known for his sculptures depicting animals and nature, the original Siberian Ram was first completed in 1941 and on display at Frederik Meijer Gardens and Sculpture Park in Grand Rapids. Hosting the largest collection of his work, you can also see "The Boy and the Bear" and "Seven Saints and Sinners" at Meijer Gardens.
The green tiles behind Siberian Ram were donated from Stroh's Brewing Company and can also be seen in this unique green color at Cadillac Center.
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irelandking · 1 year ago
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mob au fic recs
bucky barnes x reader
❤️ = fluff 😔 = angst 🔥 = smut
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multiparts:
family matters - @world-of-aus
You should have heeded your father’s warnings to stay away, now HIS demons have come to collect, and they come in the form of the Notorious mob boss James Buchanan Barnes, but is there more than meets the eye? - 73k words ❤️🔥😔
mafia masterlist - @angrythingstarlight
interconnected one shots ❤️🔥
ruin - @sinner-as-saint
You work at a café owned by your family, close to your uni. And most of your days are pretty laid back and calm, but that is until you catch the eye of the mob boss. Your cute skirts and soft sweaters make him weak. Your innocence captivates him. And he wants you, badly. He wants you in his bed, wants his hand under those cute little skirts… he wants to ruin you.  🔥
one shots:
anon ask - @angrythingstarlight
but rlly… r telling ppl who cross her that “upsetting me upsets my husband, and trust me you don’t wanna do that” ❤️🔥
i will not give you up - @world-of-aus
My love can I request prompt 14 with Mob Bucky, please? You’ve started dating and his family don’t approve. You can’t take the snarky comments from his family anymore so you try to break up with him and he pushes you to finally break down and tell him the real reason why. ❤️😔
home again - @navybrat817
your husband opens up about his past as you fall more in love 🔥
harmonious - @navybrat817
part 2 & 3: husband and wife & honeymoon suite you may think you're a pawn in bucky's life, but you are his queen 🔥
thigh riding - @bucky-barnes-diaries
mob!bucky x wife reader 🔥
nights & mornings with mob!bucky - @bucky-barnes-diaries
How you and Bucky go to sleep and how you and Bucky wake up. 🔥
all that glitters is gold - @printedpeterparker
The one where Y/N takes a chance on the mobster. ❤️
night hours - @sinner-as-saint
Bucky wakes you up in the middle of the night because he can’t sleep, and he knows you can help with that. ❤️🔥
twilight moments with you - @sinner-as-saint
You were just an innocent girl who works in her family’s patisserie. You had an absolutely normal life, until the day you got tangled in the mess between ex-mob James Buchanan Barnes and one of his enemies who is still out to get him. Things changed after that. But not all changes are terrible… ❤️🔥
practice - @buckyalpine
Dark-ish Mob bucky barnes x virgin maid reader 🔥
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ladyduellist · 7 months ago
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Epistles of Saints & Sinners
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Chapter Summary:
Tav has a dream and makes a decision about Astarion.
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Story Summary:
When Astarion meets the humble bard, Tav, he soon finds out he's the only one between them that knows they are bound as soulmates through their marks. Deciding it's more trouble than its worth, he refuses to tell her along the course of their journey across Faerûn.
But, unbeknownst to him and their companions, Tav is harboring a gruesome secret that she only thought was nothing more than a traumatized period in her life.
As they both come to face to face with their pasts and presents, will they choose to move forward or let it consume them?
Healing isn’t linear—after all.
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Chapter 16: Dream
Ao3
Next Chapter
Previous Chapter
Main Page & Chapter List
Word count: 5.8k
Pairing: Astarion x female bard Tav
CW: Sexual Language, Self-harm, Blood, Gaslighting, Manipulation, PTSD , Act 1 Spoilers
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What is the cost of turning dreams into reality? The payment of man: his duality. Morrowland awaits for those who can pay, Death masks made for any in his way.
— Raphael, diabolical discussions at the House of Hope
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The first detail Tav noticed about the rich northwestern Sea Ward of Waterdeep was the malodorous stench.
A reeking unpleasant mixture of old and new greed asserted through questionable bargains. The pungency in fear and scandal-mongering behind palatian villa walls. Secrets hidden well beneath caked layers of powdered cheeks and painted façades of cordiality from each patriar’s cut stoned smile.
Gathered in droves did the wayfarers come, to celebrate Winter Shield as the largest holiday of the year. A specified duration for one day, underlining the spectred accounts from the past year. Follies and good cheer, recognized as an enthronement for the special occasion.
Cassalanter Villa towered self-righteously over Tav as she eyed its structure, hearing the roaring jollied voices from the party that was in full swing indoors. And there, her beloved Algos presumably waited, working the visitors strategically for dividends should he grant the evil desires of their hearts. A strange residence he coaxed her into attending to mingle with the orgies of blue bloods at the behest of his aspirations.
It wasn’t that she had never dealt with patriars—especially back in the comforts of her home in Highmoon—but moreso, that she loathed unnecessarily gleaning attention out of highbrow society. She cared not if her singing mouth or the whorl of her rapier impressed upon their besmirched mortalities.
As she approached, dolled up in an empire waist gown crafted from azure ombré velvet and hand painted whitecaps resembling the salt waters of the Sword Coast, she began collecting her nerve to enter the villa, reciting Algos’s instructions in her mind. Each rehearsed pleasantry urged upon her to perform at the upcoming soirée, formed together as they would leave her murmuring lips in an alphabetical soliloquy.
Practice makes perfect.
Good thing I’ve perfected the art of a side glance to deal with these pompous dickheads, she bemoaned in her thoughts, reluctantly walking up to the closed doors.
Tav’s hand hovered above the door handle, a million excuses sprinting through her gray matter as to why she shouldn’t walk across that threshold into the lion’s den.
She formed a closed fist, letting it fall unceremoniously away.
“What am I do—oh…you’re here,” the elven woman quietly proclaimed.
Warmth dispersed between her collarbone and upper breast tissue as her soulmate mark gently made its presence known. Breathing. Alive. Pulling at the invisible bond betwixt them, causing her clattering heart to slow its pace.
She looked down at her chest, imagining the dark brownish shooting star underneath her gown stirring to life. Her mate’s long, steady, drawn out breaths tickled across the astral shape, expanding and contracting. Oh, how many nightfalls had this rare blessing kindling her pale skin endowed her with reassurance?
Tav imagined her soulmate in different scenarios whilst their shared token heated her. Had they been laughing at an embellished joke? Mayhaps demonstrating the proper launch techniques of bows? Or, could it be they were mapping the skies above for an exciting adventure?
However, what she knew for sure was that her mate had acknowledged her hesitancy from whatever location they occupied. Their connection abundant the most during the trials they each faced, knowing the precise moment to lend one another strength to will their resolve to conquer such trepidations.
Still, there loomed something eerie and tenebrous beneath the surfaced flushing emitting from the mark. Flecks of dark scattered emotions that would quickly dissipate into the channels of her nerve endings.
During those periods, she would often sing to her soulmate as she began to do now. Dulcet lullabies from ancient elven lore, hummed prettily off the glint of her lips while she lightly grazed the top heap of her bosom. Tav prayed that the solace from her songs filled her mate’s body, healing their troubled spirit through their fated link as she always did.
And just as suddenly as the dreamlike sensations from her soulmate appeared, they were gone.
With newfound will, it didn’t take long afterwards for her to prepare herself to enter the indoor gathering.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
Spine straight.
Doors open.
Welcome to a new hell.
Barges of colors flashed behind Tav’s eyes when she slipped into the home, like fields made from dying stars erupting to give birth to interstellar clouds. A contrast to the falling snow outdoors, entoiling the city of splendors in quilts of white.
Gold and silver tinsel hung from every lit candle wall sconce. Balsam garlands—decorated with fir cones, orange slices, and tinkering brass bells—drooped in a zigzag pattern high above the visitors’ heads in the grand foyer only feet away from the entrance. Noises rang off champagne flutes, filling the air with their own caroling orchestra.
To her left, an ornately carved pulpit stood leering over guests filing in from the cold to administer judgment before they joined the festivities. A toffee-faced dwarven woman, elderly and worn, stood raised behind its face. Large baskets filled with wreaths stacked perfectly on either side of her: novelties of cultural celebration for new beginnings.
“Happy Winter Shield and welcome to Cassalanter Villa, my lady,” the noble dwarf politely announced. “I am Madam Robine Cassalanter and today: our home is your home. Please warm your bones and feast for as long as your belly will allow or until dawn breaks and I put everyone back onto the streets!”
Tav forced a smile, noting the slightly serious tone of her last sentence, evident of her classist ethics. “Your hospitality is without rival, Madam Cassalanter.”
Robine removed a wreath from one of the baskets, steadfastly holding it between her plump sausage-like fingers. “Care for one? The servants have painstakingly outdid themselves this year with them I believe! Handmade over a thousand each in a tenday’s time.”
The dueling swordswoman nodded quietly, moving closer to the pulpit. Patiently waiting as the woman fixed a wreath created from boxwood leaves and winter berries onto her head, Tav observed the smoothness of her hands. Clearly lacking the same scars and calluses she had acquired, she doubted the dwarf had worked a single day in her life that didn’t involve hosting grand parties and speaking gossip over towers of scones.
“Lovely,” she exclaimed, admiring her minimal labor. “Now, is there anything else I can help you with?” The dwarf peeked down at the cuffs of her tacky white and emerald suit, pretending to be unsettled by an invisible stain that just seemed to require all of her attention.
She blinked away the melting snowflakes occupied on her lashes, resisting the urge to subtly insult the woman’s sudden rudeness. “Saer Algos. Do you know of him? He should have arrived an hour or so ago.”
Madam Robine stopped fidgeting with her sleeves, widening her eyes to stare at the woman regarding her. Head tilted curiously, she leaned over the pulpit shifting her vision to study the elf more closely.
Odd. Strangely so.
Tav slightly furrowed her brow, vexed further by the woman’s demeanor. Minutes ticked away before she decided that the suddenly mute dwarf was a lost cause and she would be better off searching for him on her own. Turning away, she proceeded to walk towards the upbeat gathering.
“Saer Algos? Why, yes, he should be inside,” Robine abruptly interrupted, halting Tav. “Now that I think about it, he did mention he was expecting his fiancée to show up sometime after him. Would I be correct that he also said you are a dazzling vocalist and would graciously sing for us this fair eve?”
How very like Algos to use her talents to captivate and indoctrinate the masses for his cause.
Her long dress spun around with her like dancing waves as she looked back at the woman that now had a cheshire grin spanning the entirety of her lower face, further indenting the wrinkles around her eyes.
She swallowed down her objection into the pit of her stomach. “If it should please you and your guests, then I would be honored.”
Tav reminded herself this uncomfortability was for Algos. “For the future” he often reminded her. Should he rise to meet his goals, protection across Everska, The Dales, Cormyr, and perhaps one day The Sword Coast, would be guaranteed. The people would want for nothing, only to enter a unified golden age that had yet to be seen.
His vision: enticing as forbidden pomegranates ripened upon a tree. Seeds of an ideal utopian nation, waiting for their arils to burst open, intoxicating the land. How could anyone refuse? Algos designated himself as the man to conduct the events that would jumpstart everything. A man possessed with masterminded strategies to outwit opponents into carving his position amongst those on lofty perches.
Algos would not fail; he would immolate any that deemed him to do so.The Madam nodded, snapping her fingers at a nearby servant. “May I have your mantle then, Miss…?”
“Tavelle Etriel’kerymaera. My name is Tavelle Etriel’kerymaera,” she answered affably, untying her fur mantle to hand over to the maid obediently holding her arms out like a coat hanger.
“Tavelle Etriel’kerymaera,” Robine slowly enunciated, continuing her strange all-knowing smile. “Enjoy your evening, dearest.”
Bowing her head courteously, she half pivoted to depart—“One more thing Lady Swordsong,” Robine called out, crinkling her mischievous eyes. “My nephew Victoro Cassalanter and his wife Ammalia are here tonight as well. I believe they would find you quite beguiling! And I am sure given your contributions, this won’t be the last we see of each other.”
Contributions? What in the hells was she referring to? Tav entertained.
The elf visibly narrowed her sight, no longer able to hold back her suspicions about the dwarf’s behavior. “Forgive me for my intrusive assumption Madam Cassalanter, but why does it seem as if you know far more about me than you’re revealing?”
She shrugged her shoulders, fixating her interests on the next wreaths to prepare for the guests that had just entered from the blistering cold. “Fly along now Sword of Deepingdale,” the aged dwarf ordered. “You shouldn’t keep your handsome beau waiting any longer.”
Tav bit down on her lower vermillion, contemplating a walk back towards the pulpit to fetch the crone by her hideous jacket to demand answers from her smug face. However, Robine was right: Algos expected her to be by his side tonight and that included demonstrating her best temperament. Despite her reluctance in attending the party, she knew these negative thoughts were temporary and in contrast to the importance of their presence there.
From the entryway to the grand foyer, Tav glanced out amongst a hive of rabid nobles. Each one buzzed about, collecting useful rumors like pollen, transferring it back to the rest of the broods that kept encircling the hall. They sucked and they sucked and they sucked, addicted to every bit of nectary gossip they could store inside the cells of their brains until they could use them for their benefit.
But then, she found her soon-to-be husband, dwelling near an ivory pillar tucked away in a quiet corner. Hair slicked back and robust body clad in a long navy velvet coat trimmed in charcoal-dyed fox furs, Algos’s long shadow peeped out across the marble floor. He was dashing as ever—facial features more intense than usual from a clean shave.
Though, what she did not anticipate was the unrecognizable companion flouncing around him.A human woman clung onto his arm. Pinned glossy black hair. Dressed in gold silks. A pair of sirenic sea green eyes. Breasts pushed alluringly into his bicep. Beautiful and refined by most standards.
The elf watched as Algos’s heavy tongue—presumptively dripping with honeyed charms—whispered into the lady’s ear, causing her to giggle. She craned her neck to peck the corner of his full lips, a row of pearly whites gleaming in the dim light. Then, as the she-wolf was about to depart into the lively crowd, her peachy hand casually slid downwards until her palm met his outlined cock in his trousers.
Wait.
That can’t be right.
It happened so quickly it could have been easily mistaken for a trick of the eye.
“Ah, there she is: my beloved birdie!” Algos waved at her with a half filled glass of champagne, intruding upon her fretful thoughts.
Robotically, her ears perked up, obeying the seductive and cajoling drag from his wispy gruff inflection. The breadth of a faux smile chained itself to her lips.
“Good eve to you my love,” she replied, curtsying as he met her near the doorway.
Should she question him about what she saw? Surely, she was mistaken.
His sight raked over her body, doubtlessly searching for any imperfections that could cause that infamous astringent glimmer in those hickory coal eyes. “You look astonishing,” Algos complimented, appearing pleased.
“Well, I suppose I should, given you were the one that picked out this dress,” Tav tried to quip, briefly ignoring her concerns.
His left arm slotted itself around her waist, pulling her into him. “It has been vastly boorish here without you.”
Tav’s hands flatly landed against the intricately stitched rows of velvet along the upper torso of his coat, as if to guard him from her heart. “Has it? It seemed like you were having quite a bit of fun with that black-haired woman just a few minutes ago.”
Algos threw his head back in laughter, his Adam’s apple sporting a few missed coarser hairs from his shave. “You mean Ammalia Cassalanter and the kiss she gave me? Oh my dove, she was simply thanking me for a little problem solving regarding a mercantile disagreement I did for her husband Victoro. It saved them from loosening some of their funds to placate the persons involved.”
“It’s not the gratitude from her peck that bothered me, but the squeezing of your cock before she sauntered off,” Tav frankly reported.
Without another word, Algos seized her hand and led her into a small sitting room adjacent to the foyer entrance, closing the doors behind him.
Instead of releasing her, he instantly looped her arms around his neck. His free hand tilted her chin up towards him, peering down into her face. “I’m unsure as to what you think you saw, but that didn’t happen. Aside from that meaningless kiss, she didn’t touch me.”
Tav stared up at him silently, the various shades of pink on his cheeks a symptom from imbibing. He always knew what to say to her, always in a way that his manipulations convinced her breaking heart to continue bleeding for him.
“The only woman I want is you,” he cooed, pushing into her plush mouth with his broad tongue, snuffing out her angst immediately.
Upon his slithering tongue slipping betwixt her lips, a delicate sweet tang was tasted, covered under the fruity notes from the champagne. A taste she could equate to the lustful moistures of labia folds mixed with intoxicating jasmine at the end of each breath he aired out.
Tav fought back the vile images of Algos’s head between Ammalia’s thighs, sucking her clit into orgasmic bliss. She was a married woman, after all, with a husband whose watchful gaze vigilantly scanned the perimeter of the grand foyer. How could the two of them manage to get away with their affair within the past hour?
Yet, it occurred to her that even though she could taste the lies on his tongue, he would likely show no remorse. She could certainly probe him enough to admit his adultery to her, but his confession would turn to a plausible excuse that feasting upon wealthy cunt would somehow give him further access into this family’s maggoty circle he aimed to control. The pain of his betrayal would foreseeably become a fleeting hurt to help him usher in “the future.”
This man—this horrible man Tav loved—knew by her altruism that she would always put others before herself because she felt everyone else’s lives were more important than her own.
And he could get away with it all.
Algos leaned back, lips plump and deeply hued in rouge. “Do you believe me?”
No.
“Yes,” she fibbed, swallowing her torment because that’s what he would want to hear.
“Good girl,” he praised, patting the side of her neck. “Now that your worries are eased, did the matriarch of the family treat you decently when you arrived?”
“Madam Robine Cassalanter? She was genial as any patriar pretends to be,” she slightly frowned. “But, something was off about the way she regarded me. What did you tell her?”
The back of his thick index finger gently stroked her cheek. “I should have known my perceptive little bird would pick up on that. To answer: I may have slipped a very rare map into her possession that once belonged to one of the many heroes from ‘The Iron Crisis.’ The Cassalanter’s were quite thrilled that the daughter of that self same hero—you—and a Sword of Deepingdale herself, would offer such a gratuitous gift.”
Her jaw felt like it entirely unlatched as her mouth flew open in disbelief.
By that admission alone, Tav figured out the artifice he meant to play before he even explained himself. She was seething, her chest tightening with heat. “You not only stole a part of my inheritance, but you also laundered it away to one of the most notorious families in Waterdeep to gain an alliance?!”
“Now, now, the Cassalanters have graciously received us. There is absolutely nothing to be upset about,” Algos chastised with a click of his tongue. “Moving people along the game board is all part of the political blueprint. You must have favor with those in disreputable positions to guarantee their compliance for your goals, else chaos ensues.”
“Besides, you should be honored that your mother is the bladesinger, Evenlit Etriel’kerymaera! You’re practically royalty, my dear,” he unerringly said, taking a casual sip of gold fizzy liquid from his glass. “It simply baffles me that you have not taken more advantage of her blood running through your veins.”
Tav grimaced, letting both her arms fall at her sides like lifeless pieces of twine. “It feels like I’m nothing more than the dowry in your marriage to your ambitions.”
Algos glided his finger down the side of her face, finding a loose curl to toy with. “No need to make extremes out of this, love; you’re much smarter than that. All I ask is that you stay by my side and trust me to handle the meat boiling inside the bones,” he slowly said, curling his lips into a smug look.
The muscles in the groove of her lower mouth involuntarily twitched. “Stand by your side as you galavant around with actual criminals while using me and my family like whores?! Those are the types of individuals that have rotted Faerûn, Algos! Ones whose damned schemes we should be disemboweling,” Tav snapped, trying to keep her voice down.
She angrily clutched the hand stroking her silken tresses. “Nepotism by my parents' accomplishments is not something I believe in exploiting. That map was…do you have any idea what you’ve done? The danger involved? I never agreed to any of this.”
Algos raised her hand to his lips for a kiss, devious eyes peeking over her knuckles under a weighty brow. “And yet, here you are continuing to pretend to be everything you hate. Putting on a show in front of all the upper class to garner their favor for yours truly,” he whispered harshly. “Even going as far as to allow me to use that very nepotism you have carefully avoided to strike together the flints that will spark the flames needed to build an innovative future.”
“Besides, the people love to hear stories about heroes: their rise and their fall,” Algos forebodingly remarked, gulping down one last mouthful of drink.
Fall? Did he mean to suggest—?
Disoriented in the hollow of his words, she sensed she was caught in yet another trap. Caught in his orated words that carried separate terminologies from the sentences he formed. Caught because he held both her dreams and night scourges in the palms of his hands, conducting them as a marionette. Caught because she was frightened of what he could do to her and her parents. Caught because of what he’d already done.
Caught because she loved him.
Yet, wasn’t sacrifice part of truly loving someone? Stripping everything away until all that was left were both their damnations and heaven’s respite in their cohesive bodily belfry. At least that was what she had come to believe about love.
And loving Algos? Ha. That had become a form of self-flagellation. With each lash from his actions—his words—welting her mind in the deepest shades of blues and blacks.
Tears formed in her ducts, stinging the thin skin there. “How much further are you willing to go, Algos?” Tav shakily questioned.
“As far as I need to,” he growled, forcefully wrapping her hand around his bicep as he walked them towards the doors to soon reopen. “We’ll address this confusion later on. For now, shall we head back? You do have an audience to enchant.”
From the songstress’s mouth, the Anima Sola suffered in her throat, threatening to painfully scream while she tried to break her shackles to a man she devoted her life to for close to a decade.
This wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him.
He loved her…he loved her…he loved her…
⸺⋘✤⋙⸺
It has been said that the eyes are the window to the soul. Yet, what of doors?
Doors open and close: one opportunity leading to the next. A ceaseless funnel as the era of the living persisted from birth into death. Still, regardless of the ability to seize such possibilities, a numerous amount remained soundly shut. Shut because of the cruel mistress called fear. Humanity with their spiritual set of keys oft left staring too long at locked doors, that they fail to see others that have been left ajar.
For Tav, however, it had been the opposite. The yawning doorway she found all those years ago, murmured false promises of love, security, and happiness in the form of a man named Algos. And, oh, how guilelessly she tried to steal it all away for herself without even fathoming that she should have waited in front of that one forsaken sealed door until it was ready to be unbolted.
But now, as she followed Algos’s lead stepping over the doorsill back into the stimulating celebrations at the Cassalanter villa, Tav knew he was throwing them both into their inferno graves. Reflexively, she shut her eyes as they moved, listening to his heavy boots for guidance.
The countdown in her head started until they would be met again with an onslaught of noises.
One, two, three…
Silence.
…four, five, six…
More silence.
Her lids flew open, peering out into an entirely different scene. The guests had disappeared. Victoro and Ammalia Cassanter, even his aunt Robine, were nowhere to be found. The villa had transformed into what appeared to be gray slabs of rocks and splintered bones, floating in a strange sky. Above her, the impeccable ornamental garlands had mysteriously vanished, leaving behind a dusky galaxy oscillating in blue, purple, and misty hues.
The bard checked herself, noticing the gown she had worn changed into her usual camp clothes. Even the sophisticated ringlets she donned were replaced with her regular plait thrown over a shoulder.
And then, she understood: it was all a dream.
Tav pieced together that Algos had not escorted her into their once lethal future beyond that portent door, but instead, out of a nightmare from their past life together and back into her present day—or wherever this foreign place was.
She called out to her companions one by one, hopeful they were in the same vicinity. “Shadowheart? Wyll? Gale? Karlach? Lae’zel? Halsin? Astarion? Scratch? Where are you guys?”
However, despite the lack of an answer from her friends, she wasn’t alone.
There, in the quiet proximate distance, her ex-fiancé idled near a shadowy precipice observing a formation created from debris out in the buoyant space that Tav couldn’t entirely see.
“Algos…?!” She alarmingly squeaked out, as if she had seen a ghost.
Why didn’t he disappear when she woke from the dream? He couldn’t still be—no. That wasn’t possible.
The man turned to her, a tranquil smile deepening his aging lines. It astounded her how he looked exactly the same as he once did, save for being clad in shining golden armor. “Hello. Are you alright? I know this is probably unsettling for you.”
Instantly, tremors overtook her body, rattling her teeth together. “But, you’re…you’re…dead! H-how…are y-you…s-s-still alive?! I k-killed—.”
“I-I k-killed…I KILLED YOU!” Her voice curdled, as it thickened with her screaming saliva.
Tav fell to the ground sobbing, an urge to vomit steadily filling her throat. The pangs in her heart became unbearable as her blood seemed to be blockaded from entering its ventricles. Her fingertips clawed into the thin layer of stony dust for purchase, hoping the ground would swallow her whole. Regardless of the passed years after his death, she was nevertheless at his mercy.
Salted earth inside his mouth, He has been preserved. Discord: his acolyte, Has time already been served?
Footsteps approached her, crossing the gigantic craggy mass confidently. “I am sorry to have frightened you. Let me help you up so I may explain,” his soothing vocals seeped out into the air over her.
Through Tav’s overgrown bangs, she saw his hand reaching downwards, palm opened for her to take. Angrily, she swatted it away. “Don’t touch me! Don’t you EVER fucking touch me!”
Algos patiently retracted the scoop of his mitt. “Perhaps it would serve us both better if I were more direct about your predicament. For starters: I’m not actually Algos.”
She loudly cackled. “Not actually—oh, that’s fucking rich! Out of all the times you’ve gaslighted me, this is certainly a first. Run out of interesting ways to terrorize me? Decided to finally manipulate me into believing you’re someone else entirely out of boredom, have you?”
“Do me a favor and kill me off like you should’ve done 10 years ago. Just get it over with. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?!” Tav added as salty streams soaked her cheeks.
He cleared his throat. “Tavelle, you’re still dreaming.”
“What…?”
“This,” the man gestured around the unknown area. “is a lucid dream; a by-product from the tadpoles. It’s how I’m able to somewhat physically manifest to you and your friends. Had I known this form would upset you in this manner, I would have reconsidered my choice.”
“I don’t—what?” She repeated, crossing her shaking arms tightly against her chest.
The subtle infliction of desperation buried in his tone did not escape her. He had knowledge about the tadpoles and, given mention about her friends, their travels thus far. Shit, stranger things have happened to her since they started said journey—taking a sun-walking fussy vampire to bed being one.
Should she believe him? Or It? Would it serve her to extend an ampul of her trust to his claims?
As she studied it, Tav admitted that this version of Algos did appear different. Concentrating on its speech patterns, it struck her that it was vastly more monotone—clearer—than the man she called her ex sweetheart. Its mannerisms were devoid from the calculating quirks she was forced to accept, in favor of an almost calming breeze to its movements. If anything, it was worth it to consider it was being honest and Algos—the real Algos—was still decaying six feet underground for her own peace of mind.
At this point, what did she have to lose? The inner twistings from the mind flayer transmogrification may happen soon anyways.
“This is insanity,” she blew out, wiping her face. “I am probably a downright twit for even considering some of this to be true, but what—er—who exactly are you then?”
It took a moment to answer. “I’m an adventurer—just like you. And just like you, I wish to be free of this infectious mind control. I was the one that saved you from the Nautiloid; surely you remember?”
Memories brightly erupted in the dimples throughout her brain as it rushed its thoughts into her. In one scene, it stood before her pod, unlatching the mechanism that kept her contained. Then, it kept her falling body from colliding like a ragdoll into the sands of the beach back near the crash site.
“Gods above.” She pushed herself upwards, balancing on the balls of her feet until she regained her strength to stand. “That still doesn’t explain why you look nearly identical to Algos,” Tav pressured. “Are you a changeling of some sort?”
“It’s more complicated than that, but I will clarify as much as I’m able,” it started, folding its hands together below its waist. “I can connect with, not only yours, but all your companion’s tadpoles. Through those connections, we’re able to communicate telepathically. The visions within your thoughts sometimes become like a puzzle for me to piece together; other times, they are transparent.”
“Algos” held out its arm to the side signaling for them to take a walk. “Your trances have been consumed with images of this man whose likeness I have taken on. When I realized I could properly meet you through your dreams, I decided the best way would be for me to greet you through the image of someone you once knew. Perhaps I did not deduce the full gravity of your emotions towards this human, and for that, I apologize. It is not my intention to deceive you—quite the opposite actually.”
Tav held up her hands, swirling her index fingers in a backwards circle around the other. “Wait, back up. Am I to understand that you also have a worm inside your head and you can hear or see my thoughts?”
“The uncomplicated answer is: yes.”
Her brow lifted suspiciously. “And the complicated answer?”
The “changeling, yet not changeling” considered her question, a droll hum rumbling at the top of his throat. “First: may I change into someone more palatable for you? Then, we can discuss some of your queries.”
“How are you even able to do that? Is it like a flick of the wrist and bibbidi-bobbidi—nevermind. I mean, please go ahead, just…nobody I know.”
Except, it did shift into someone she recognized. A highly regarded older graying woman that was oft mentioned amongst the civilians for her astute political position in the ‘Council of Four’ as they propagated the daily streets in Baldur's Gate. One that she had never formally met, but saw distributing a few coins into her tip bag while playing the lute on street corners within the big city.
“Duke Belynne Stelmane?” Tav huffed out an unbelievable laugh, planting her hands on either side of her hips.
The morphing creature presented her with a closed mouth grin, identical to that shrewd pucker Stalmane typically touted. “Yes. Do you know about her?”
“It would be hard not to; she is one of the most important women in power along the Sword Coast. I never had the opportunity to speak with her seeing as we obviously ran in different cliques,” the bard answered truthfully. “Did you know her personally?”
“For a while. She was a dear friend to me and one that helped me to seize back my life at some point. We worked together to make a real change out there. But, that time has aged and deteriorated.”
‘Curious,’ she thought. ‘Those unblinking eyes barely show a hint of emotion.’
“I am sorry to hear that Duke—ahem, could I possibly call you by a different name? Just in case you decide to have another glamorous makeover that I may not recognize next time,” Tav teased. “How about the name ‘Dreamy?’”
“You may call me whatever you wish for the time being,” Dreamy coolly accepted.
“Grand! How about we take that walk now?”
They circumnavigated the rocky terrain several passes as Dreamy patiently answered Tav’s questioning scruples. It explained to her that the tadpoles were swaddled in exceptional magic that prevented withdrawal, but she should evaluate learning how to use their power as it may be the only way to save the possible destruction of Faerûn. Its only option was to steal the power that was now protecting them, but at the cost of creating a lot of enemies.
“When I discovered information that these ‘True Souls’ began infecting the people by turning them into their own vessels, I realized they meant to do more damage than creating a surplus of mind flayers—they wanted dominion over them,” Dreamy stated as it turned to view Tav’s shock. “True Souls carry the same supernaturally-infused tadpoles as yourself. The only variation being that those that are infected with normal worms hear the True Souls as if they are connected by a colony hivemind and believe them to be gods.”
Her mind raced trying to process the minutiae to the bigger picture. This was nowhere near what she had predicted after wobbling out of that flayer pod; this was a sentient, respiring nightmare. Would it even be possible to eradicate the True Souls if they wielded that amount of power? And what about the consumption of additional tadpoles? Dreamy failed to mention side effects that could be associated with such risks.
“I-I’m unsure what to say,” Tav muttered at a loss for words, stretching her arm upwards to tug at the skin above her collarbone as if she was still proving to herself that any measure of this was real. “May I return now? Out of this dream and back to camp. I need to speak with everyone as soon as possible.”
“You have been through enough tonight, I will sever the connection as you’d like,” it said, bowing respectively without a single hair of Stelmane’s resemblance loosening out of place.
Her lips pulled up in gratitude while she watched Dreamy walk a few paces ahead, once again beholding a fascination for an object out in the oil slicked atmosphere.
“Tavelle?” It asked before a pregnant pause, the clanking of its armor becoming silent in the unfamiliar ether. “Do you think you should tell them?”
“Tell them what?”
“About what happened to your family.”
Tav inquisitively stared at Dreamy as she sharply took a breath, the thudding of her heart jumping into her windpipe. “Why? All of Faerûn already knows what I’ve done.”
⸺⋘✤⋙⸺
Notes:
Elvish name: Tavelle Etriel'kerymaera = Lady Tavelle Swordsong
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