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narnian-neverlander · 25 days ago

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What Could’ve Been [Viktor x GN!Reader]

Plot Summary: In which you find yourself in a world so similar yet so different to your own and are simply too tired of life knocking you down again and again to still play the selfless hero.

Word Count: 3,9k

Warnings: spoilers for Arcane Season 2, talk about character death and illness, suicidal thoughts, slightly suggestive at the end

A/N: I saw that alternate timeline and went ‘Ekko’s a stronger man than I am’ and went with that; actually wanted to write sth fluffy and happy, and this is wholesome-ish, but with some very bleak undertones so I might have to write some actual fluff to compensate. Also, the religious imagery wasn’t planned from the get go but it kinda happened and it is on brand for this man, I just decided to turn it on its head a little 🤷

I’m also very much using a translator for the Czech parts, so please bear with me and absolutely lemme know if you spot anything wrong!

“Interesting. When I told you about this last, you advised the exact opposite.”

You freeze mid movement, plate hovering an inch or so over the table you were setting. “Well I… I suppose I’ve changed my mind.”

The soft tap of a cane against the floor alerts you to him crossing the room, appearing in your peripheral as you put down the porcelain with shaky fingers. “A rather… hm, siginificant change in such a short time, wouldn’t you agree? Not to mention you acted like I was telling you for the first time.” He doesn’t receive an answer, so he keeps going. “I’ve had a theory for a while. I don’t believe I’ve told you about it, because really, it’s only a pipe dream at this point, but entertaining for the duller moments nonetheless: alternate timelines. The possibility of several different realities, all co-existing with each other simultaneously. Some would call the mere idea preposterous, I’m fully aware, but then again, how would we know for certain? How could we know? Unless one or more of said timelines happened to… overlap.” The silence that follows is deafening and heavy; a precursor of what’s to come. “You’re not originally from this world, are you?”

While he knows this is a conversation that needs to be had, the way you curl into yourself and seem to wither and grow small before his eyes makes him wish he could take it all back. He tries to catch your gaze, but you purposely avoid his as you drag yourself over to the couch. Body heavy and tired, you all but slump down into worn cushions, blankly staring into space as you weakly reply with “No. I’m not.”

He doesn’t move, nor does he speak, cause while he’d been expecting your answer to a degree, now that it’s out in the open he’s… unsure what to even do with it. It isn’t a worry for long, though, as you continue speaking, slow and weary. Like you had been expecting, dreading, this moment just as much as him.

“It wasn’t a… conscious choice. To come here, I mean. It was an accident really, I didn’t even know what had happened at first.” A weak chuckle. “This was a shock to me as much as it must’ve been for you.”

And what a shock it had been for you. To have been standing with your friends in the bowels of the Hexgates one minute and to wake up in an unfamiliar bed the next. Dizzily traipsing through a space that had felt familiar yet foreign all at once; pictures and mementos from times you couldn’t remember staring at you from every surface. And to have had Viktor come through the door, bag of baked goods under one arm, to find you in the living room of what should’ve been your home, looking every bit as lost as you felt. It had been a miracle you’d stayed standing then and there, with the way he’d looked: same lanky figure supported by a cane, same messy chestnut locks, same two beauty marks against the pale skin of his sharp face, same concern in his honey colored irises when he took in your state. But no dark circles borderlining bruises under his eyes, no hollowed, sunken in cheeks, no blood on his lips to betray another attack. And no Hexcore devouring him whole. Your downfall had come in the form of slender fingers gingerly wrapping around your forearm to try and steady you; a silent question and a gentle offer of help. One of those fingers wearing the very same ring you usually kept on a chain around your neck, because you’d always been too busy or too in your own head to just ask him. To offer him your heart, your life, your everything, if only he wanted it. Always too terrified of rejection, of losing him to his illness; too scared of fucking something until it was too late. And when your hand had come up in search for said necklace, a nervous habit that had developed at some point, and you’d found a matching ring on your own finger instead, you’d finally dissolved into a wailing, sobbing mess against his chest, never wanting to let go again.

And what a shock it had been for him. To have talked to you, not twenty minutes prior, an exchange of sleepy, lazy kisses and quiet murmurs, telling you he’d go get breakfast and be right back, watching as you’d curled back up under the blankets with a content sigh. To come through the door, expecting you still in bed and instead finding you in the middle of your living room, looking utterly lost and misplaced in your own home, an almost manic look in your eyes, staring at him like you’d seen a ghost. He’d approached you, carefully, like one would a wild caged animal, and then a simple touch of his had sent you into a meltdown. And at an absolute loss, he’d simply held you. Let you cry yourself to utter exhaustion in his arms, the both of you a heap on the floor, propped up against the back of the sofa. When you had finally, finally calmed down, you’d played it off as the aftershocks of a nightmare. The kind that makes you believe they’re real and keeps you trapped in them for what could feel like a lifetime. And Gods you’d looked like you had aged a lifetime while he was gone. And ever since that night you’d been… different. Getting lost in your own head more often than not. Suffering from nightmares almost every night. Migraines and something akin to epileptic seizures every once in a good while. He had let it go on, assuring you that if you needed anything he would be there for you, and in the following months, you’d seemed to settle and things had gone back to normal. Relatively. But it had been the memory loss that had made him suspicious. Or more so the fact that while some things remained, others seemed to have happened differently for you and some had never happened at all. Never having been able to leave well enough alone, he’d started digging for explanations. And now, at the end of his research, his most impossible theory proven right - he’s yet again at a loss of what to do. How to help you.

“I didn’t know how I got here, much less how to get back. From what I do understand about all of this, and it ain’t much, the thing that sent me to this world doesn’t even exist here. So at first I didn’t have much of a choice but to just… live. To pretend like everything was normal and I belonged here. But eventually I realized that even if I got the chance to go back, I didn’t want to. I wanted to be selfish, I wanted—“ Your voice cracks, thick with emotion and he watches your head drop forward like a doll’s whose strings have been cut, eyes downcast at your trembling hands. “I wanted to be happy again. And for once in my damn life I wanted it to last. It just never fucking lasts…”

Stride over to you and hold you tight, kiss you and tell you that everything would be alright, that you would figure this out together, like always. That’s what he should be doing. Every bone in his body tells him to, but just like so many other times in the past, his oh so brilliant mind prevents him. Tells him that there is no ‘together, like always’ because the person in front of him isn’t the person he’s known his whole life. Isn’t the person he married. Everything’s an ugly mess and he doesn’t mean for his next words to come across as cruel, doesn’t perceive them that way; blissfully unaware of the implications, he’s simply, truly curious.

“What would you do if you were to go back home?”

An inelegant snort leaves you and you wipe the back of your hand over your eyes in a desperate and vain attempt to stop the tears from flowing.

23 seconds.

You were counting, just to give you something to occupy your spiraling mind with, really.

23 seconds.

That’s how long it had taken him to no longer refer to this world, this apartment, him as your home. To prioritize whatever might be going in your other life. And you know it’s not fair, to be this upset with him, this version of him that you’ve been deceiving from the start; even though he has never wronged you. But you can’t help it. Guilt and regret would soon be all you’d have left again, so might as well leave him with some, too.

“Well… if I hadn’t gotten sucked into this mess, I would’ve killed myself by now. I guess I’d be getting back to that.”

The breath that escapes him sounds like you actually just sucker punched him in the gut and immediately makes you feel terrible about how casual and bitter you’d made it sound, but he’d wanted the truth and that was it. Limbs heavy und unsteady, you rise from your position on the couch and make your way over to the front door. “I’ll go take a walk or… you know, go do… whatever. Give you some space, time to think.” Your hand’s already on the door handle, but you pause and somehow find it in yourself to turn around and at least give him the courtesy of looking at him for what you’re about to say. “For what it’s worth, I never meant to let it go this far. It just became so… easy to pretend like things had always been like this. You made it easy. And while I’m sorry that I lied to you, tricked you, intentional or not, I got the chance to fall in love with you all over again. And I could never be sorry about that.”

You’re fairly certain you’ve never seen him move as fast as he does now and before you know it, you’re wrapped in a hug almost too tight, his cane landing on the carpeted floor next to you with a dull thump. “You cannot say things like that and expect me to just let you walk out of that door, I-“

Readjusting his hold on you, he cradles your head against his shoulder and loops his other arm around your middle, continuing in a hushed, gentle tone. “I can’t bear the thought of harm befalling you. Even worse, you harming yourself. In any timeline. Please, just stay. No matter what might happen in the future, just… stay with me. Right here.”

He means for it to be reassuring, comforting, loving, you know that. It’s not his fault that it has the exact opposite effect.

Wincing, a new wave of tears springs to your eyes and you remove yourself from his hold, but can’t bring yourself to let go completely; hands now linked between the two of you. “Viktor, I stole the body and life of a person you actually love. I don’t want you to force yourself to try and love me out of pity.”

“And why are you so certain that’s what this is?!” It surprises you, how genuinely upset he sounds, and a gasp is forced out of your throat when he wrenches his hands out of your grasp and his palms find your face, to force your gaze onto him and keep it there, wether you want to or not. The expression he’s wearing almost scares you; thick brows furrowed in anger and lips curled back in what could nearly be a snarl, but as soon as gold eyes find yours, red and puffy and so very desperate and grieving, whatever fire seemed to have been burning him up inside goes out all at once.

His shoulders drop and he rests his forehead against yours with a sigh, warm breath fanning over your face. “I’m sorry, moje lásko, please forgive me. I’m not angry with you, I just… I can not comprehend why you are so ready and willing to accept rejection, but will not even entertain the possibility that loving you comes as easy to me as your affections for me do to you. Why can you love every version of me, but I’m not allowed the same with every version of you?” He watches you blink owlishly, your mouth opening and closing several times and he’s not sure wether it’s endearing or heartbreaking, how clear it is that this possibility never even crossed your mind. “You act like this entire situation only penalizes me, when in reality, I’m not actually your Viktor, either, am I?”

He expects this to help, to give you a new perspective. To make it clear to you that you are both the same; you are not a villain in his story. And there is a smile on your lips, but it’s so small and sad that his stomach drops at the sight. “No, you’re not. You couldn’t be. My Viktor is gone.”

And all of a sudden, it makes so much sense. How sometimes you’d stare at him with the most haunted look in your eyes, like he was a dead man walking, ready to collapse at any given moment. How you’d grow frantic when he came back late from the academy. How you’d insisted on tagging along on the most mundane of tasks, always under the guise of wanting to spend more time with him, but really just keeping a close eye on him at all times. Though he suspects the former to be true; the chance to spend even a few more precious hours with a loved one you’d thought lost, who wouldn’t jump at that chance?

His world would simply seize spinning if you were no longer in it, he can’t even begin to imagine how you feel. How tormenting it must’ve been to see him everyday, a second chance dangling right in front of you, but never certain if you were to wake up back in a world where he was gone.

You’re in his arms again in a heartbeat, one hand carding through your hair, the other rubbing soothing patterns into your back; whispering sweet little nothings into your ear as you bury your face into the crook of his neck and sob. All so much like the day you arrived and saw him for the first time, and yet… softer. More intimate.

You stay like this until your bawling dies down to whimpers and sniffles at which point he gingerly coaxes you to look at him.

“Miláčku, listen to me. As it stands now, you have no way of going back to your original world.” He doesn’t call it your home anymore, you notice. “You did not ask for this, you did not choose this; you had it thrust upon you while going through enough pain and grief you considered taking your own life. For the love of everything, you needn’t feel guilty for wanting to use this chance to find happiness again. And you shouldn’t feel guilty if you continue to do so.” Still sniffling you gently caress his face, thumbs running over his chiseled cheekbones and heart stuttering when he leans into your touch. But then you catch sight of the ring on your finger again.

“I’m not… I’m not the person you married, Vik.” Unknowingly, you parrot his own thoughts back to him, but surprisingly enough, he finds he doesn’t much care anymore. He’s flabbergasted how he could ever even doubt for a second that it would matter which timeline you were originally from. Because it’s still you. Damn it all, it’s still you. “Maybe so. But I’ve seen the same kindness in you in those past few months that I’ve always known. The same wit. The same ambition and passion. All the things that made me love you in the first place. You said this gave you the chance to fall in love with me again; would you allow me the chance to do the same?”

The truth is, while you want to try and build a life here, you feel guilty. Guilty about the friends you left fighting a war. Guilty about taking over the life and joy of someone else, even if they are a different version of you. Guilty about forcing the man you love into a relationship with a person he technically doesn’t even know. All these months, you’d only ever reciprocated his affections, never initiated them, had barely let him touch you at all, because you’d always felt like somehow you were coercing him into cheating on someone he actually loved. But here he is now, telling you that he wants you, this version of you, all of you. Could you really do it? Leave behind everything and everyone you’ve ever known, for a chance at happiness, a fresh start? You had no guarantee that things would go smoothly in this universe either, after all. Wouldn’t you just be playing pretend for the rest of your life?

“So what, we’ll just… pretend like it’s the first time then?” you ask, a quiet breathless laugh accompanying your question. He shrugs and smiles at you. “Something like that. Falling in love with you again and again and again? I could imagine a worse fate.”

So could you. Much, much worse, in fact.

Your expression shifts somewhat without you even realizing and he immediately recognizes that he must’ve triggered some form of painful memory. He places tiny little kisses all over your face, murmuring apologies all the while and when you sigh in contentment it finally dawns on him that this is very much the first time you’ve let yourself enjoy being close with him since you got here. He doesn’t blame you; the moral dilemma that was forced on you would put anyone on edge and make them anxious about what they could allow themselves to experience without some form of consequences. He would prove to you that there would be none, he’d make sure of that; singlehandedly destroy them if they did decide to raise their ugly heads. That you didn’t always need to give and give and ask for nothing in return. That you could take what you wanted and not be punished for it. You’d taught him that after all.

“Moje světlo…?”

Gods have mercy on your soul, you never could say no to him when he used those damn pet names on you.

You crash your lips to his, desperate and practically starved; in direct contrast to all the sweet promises and gentle reassurances you just shared, there’s nothing romantic about it. It’s all tongues and teeth and absolutely filthy and it’s exactly what you need right now. Your back makes contact with the door you’d been oh so insistent on walking out of not even fifteen minutes ago, that thought now the furthest thing from your mind as his hands are already under your shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Your head falls back against the worn wood with a thump as his lips find your neck, leaving marks and bruises for everyone to see and maybe the moan that escapes your throat with a broken version of his name coupled with how weak your knees already feel could’ve been embarrassing, but you don’t have it in yourself to care; it feels like it’s been years since he last kissed you like this. Touched you like this. The whine of protest as he pulls back is cut short when he drops to his knees in front of you, hands on your hips to keep you in place and placing on last kiss on your stomach before he puts some distance between you both, not more than a few inches really, but still too much for your liking. One hand goes to cover his own, while the other cups his face, trying to tug him closer again, but he refuses. Brows knitting together in confusion and frustration, you’re about to ask him what he thinks he’s doing, but he beats you to it.

“I won’t go further unless you tell me you want this.” You almost laugh, because he can not be serious. How much more obvious could you be? Your own body is doing half the talking for you, really. But of course that’s not exactly what he means. “I want you to admit to me, and more importantly to yourself, that you want this life. I want you to realize that it is perfectly alright for you to be selfish every now and again.”

His words trigger a memory from long ago, when you’d found him passed out on the desk in the lab one too many times. After you’d been done yelling at him, you’d told him that he couldn’t just always give and give and give until there was barely anything left of himself. That it was okay to be a little selfish and take things for himself every once in a while.

Take your own advice, liar.

A voice somewhere in the back of your head purrs bewitchingly and it’s right. You are still lying. Not to him though - to yourself. Telling yourself that you feel guilty for wanting to stay here, when in reality that’s how you should be feeling. But the truth, the real truth, is that you’re scared.

Scared of how little you actually care. About the friends you left fighting a war. About taking over the life and joy of someone else, even if they are a different version of you. About forcing the man you love into a relationship with a person he technically doesn’t even know. You haven’t truly cared about any of it from the get go; always too self righteous to admit it to yourself, though.

Practiced fingers slip from his cheek to the hair at the nape his neck and pull; he goes along willingly this time, head forced back and his eyes lock onto yours, right as fresh, hot tears start to travel down your face. But you’re done grieving; you are livid, plain and simple. “I want this…” you breathe out, so quiet he almost misses it. You don’t stay quiet, though, you can’t anymore, and your voice rises in volume with every sentence spoken. “I want to stay. I want a life with you. All blissful boredom and domesticity. It’s all I ever wanted. Why…? Why was even that too much to ask?!”

He doesn’t have the answer, but he does have the solution, delivered with a slight turn of his head and a kiss to your wrist.

“It wasn’t. It isn’t.”

Breaths heavy and irregular, you simply take in the sight of him: all disheveled hair and kiss swollen lips, pretty blush all the way down to his neck, eyes dark and pupils blown wide, only a thin ring of gold left, looking at you so longingly, on his knees for you and you alone; like a worshipper ready to commit any atrocity for the sake and love of their god.

“You can take what you want, anděli. No one will punish you for it. I won’t let them.”

Angel. Oh, the irony. Irony turned certainty. Certainty turned reality.

So take you would. And you wouldn’t bother looking back at the things you’d left behind.

#arcane viktor x reader #hurt/comfort #arcane #gender neutral reader #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #arcane imagine #viktor arcane #league of legends #arcane season 2 #pretend like it's the first time

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elvirable · 1 year ago

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Instincts

[ Astarion x f!Reader/Tav ] | ao3 link

rating: explicit | word count: 3.7k | status: complete themes/tags: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, feelings realization, denial of feelings, light angst at the end, you know the sex scene after the tiefling party?, yeah so this is it, with astarions pov, already catching feelings smh, smut is halfway through, just skip to after all early dialogue

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Little did he know that evening, that was the beginning of his simple plan crumbling apart.

In other words: Astarion has been struggling to balance century-long instincts with newfound feelings, an undeniable connection. He carries out his simple little plan as intended, but meets complications he didn't quite expect. ----------- A/N: so i hung up my cod medals of honor to write this.. i've been playing for a month now. originally posted without proofreading, but its now edited for grammar and some terms -----

It was hard not to have fun around you.

Something of a child-like giddiness would buzz through his nerves whenever you sauntered over, his marbled red eyes wouldn't dare to miss a beat of the vision you were. Swaying hips and that deceivingly coy face. Of course, you were strikingly beautiful – a wickedly delectable sight – but that wasn’t the only source of his carnal anticipation.

It was just you, the enigmatic little thing you were.

Admittedly, Astarion believed he had read you like an open book the moment he laid eyes on you. It was an instinct of his: gathering a cerebral repository of notable ticks and body language, facial twitches, and octave changes in those around him. Watchful, constant observations.

He had chalked you up to a sort of stoic character at first. Graceful, to a degree, in your manner of subtly balancing the world around you. A stable composure, quick and quiet without brash or idle chatter.. unlike that Gale. You were a less flagrantly repulsive hero-type crafted in his mind – but he had still expected you to be oh-so predictable with a shallow drive for self-emaciating ‘justice’. Whereas the others wore their baggage like a garment, you held your cards close to your chest – like a chameleon suddenly thrust into the spotlight.

Yet the sun rose and fell two or three times around the wilderness of Elturel, when he found himself pleasantly contradicted. He normally didn’t dedicate much attention towards someone he believed he so easily pegged, but his interest began to pique. Just enough to leave him sitting with an edge and a consuming desire to peer in closer.

Maybe it was the way your mouth twitched into a quiet smile during his verbal antics on the road or the firm passiveness you held from the blighted village to the drama of Emerald Grove; an intoxicatingly confusing blend of traits you harbored. The closer he watched you, the less blurred you became. You didn’t fear being authentic and enforcing boundaries to those who attempted to use you – but you weren’t cruel; you met the world around you just as it was, without discrimination. No unnecessary harm, no free handouts either.

Or perhaps it was your sarcastic remarks that stirred what little glee he had in him; an especially delicious and refreshing insight into your humor. While he could care to give a critical note or two on your lack of blatant cruelty, Astarion respected your compelling demeanor; he witnessed how all these companions turned their eyes so frequently to you with decision.

But what he did know for sure was the eye contact.

Gods, the first time your heads swiveled mid-strife and your gazes locked with a rich crackle – the memory alone was enough to stupefy him! Something strange stirred, something that didn’t sit comfortably. He didn’t know what to make of it.

With all this said, that same sensation boiled inside his stomach as he mulled over his every interaction with you. He recalled that moment of midnight – when all was still and you had caught him prepared to taste your throat. Your wary stare pierced through him, washing away briefly the desperate pangs of blood-thirst and left him feeling.. nervous.

Ugh, how he despised the feeling.

He was sickened when all those ledgers of observations caved in on himself, caught in his pale throat. He had taken such an overwhelming liking to you – to the extent, he had realized, that he was drawn to your guidance, your approval; a repulsive frustration at the time enough to coil through his cold veins. Without much to say, however, he was adamantly relieved when you conceded and soon regularly allowed him to drink from your slender neck.

His trail of thoughts glossed over your stifled grunts onto the following morning: when you came to his defense as everyone felt the need to chime in with their unfettered prejudices. And how his ease, his excitement around you became persistently potent – a fresh energy that filled him as you spurred on his teasings and whims. Astarion noticed your subtle release of your ever-strong walls, just enough so he could relish in your humor and affable side.

There was always a hesitation at doting on the sensation that rose inside him at these thoughts of you. He surmised he was merely back in the practice; where he spun honeyed words and charmingly guile eye contact, to wrap his target around his finger. Any little edge of control he could grasp onto, the familiar taste of influence he used to know so well. These habits of two hundred years were kicking in. He’d play the part and – sooner or later – this eagerness to please would be reversed onto you.

Whether it was his own willful denial or the culmination of fate’s ever-spinning thread, the first crumble began the night of the tiefling party.

Cool and clear was the star-freckled night. Everything was too merry for him: the wide-toothed grins of the tieflings, sharp strums of the lute, the chatter. Even the wine was downright awful, pungent and tart like vinegar.

Astarion would’ve normally indulged in his bitter mood, but it was the sight of your drunken smile that diffused his prior desire to complain.

How interesting, he thought as his eyes lapped up your squinted grin and eased laughter. It was helplessly infectious to see you so earnest, casually prattling on in conversation throughout the camp.

Red eyes followed while you made your rounds, encouraging the tiefling’s dancing lights spell and conversing with the bard. Astarion even raised a brow at the playful expression that washed over your face as you spoke to the hulking druid by the name of Halsin. When you strolled over to Shadowheart and he caught that carefully provocative glint in the raven-haired cleric’s eyes – a chord of jealousy grew taut inside his chest.

He had half the mind to feel insulted that you hadn’t wandered in his direction yet, but that was quickly dispersed when he noticed you dismiss yourself and head towards a wooden crate near the riverfront.

Almost like a shadow, Astarion swept in your direction. Whether it was to merely take in your smile up close or to put his plan in motion, he settled on the latter. You were rifling through the crate that held what could barely pass as wine, muttering a quiet curse about the little tiefling probably pocketing a bottle or two.

“Here’s my little treat with her cheeks all flushed,” the words dripped from his mouth with a sweet cadence. “You will come to my bed tonight, won’t you?”

You swiveled at the sound of his voice, raised brow accompanying your hazy smile. The influence of wine lowered your usual wariness, and he caught the realization flutter across your face; there was no constitution in attempting to act reserved, especially with the rapport you two had grown. Amusement was written all over your face, hardly concealed – you had decided to play along.

“A little treat? You can do better than that.”

“Oh, I certainly can. It would be my pleasure.”

He leaned closer, half-lidded eyes darkening and breath heavy with a mischievous delight. You watched him expectantly, reveling in what would pour from his lips.

“How about this one,” he loosened his posture, as if you both were stowed away from the entire world instead of dawdling along the outskirts of the shoddy camp. “All these accolades from the tieflings are nothing compared to the sound of my name, cried from your lips.”

Astarion watched the smile further spread across your soft lips, the wickedly sweet crinkle in your eyes while you crossed your arms. An exhilaration rose underneath his suave demeanor, even the bemused snicker invigorating.

“Is that the best you can do?” came your quick quip.

“Hmm, let me give it another go,” his voice was thick with arousal, a hungry glint in his eyes. “Every part of your perfect body whispers temptation – it’s as if the Gods made you just to ruin me.”

His words clung to the air for a moment. The deliberate onslaught of poetic pleasantries laced with such ardent lust, the hum of the wine – Astarion studied your face swirling in thought. Heat had built up from the lower half of your body up to your cheeks, a quiet neediness wavering in your stance and threatened to boil to the surface of your skin.

Gods, you were thinking, it had been the longest time and you’ve been touch-starved.. more so under the urgency of all the trouble you had been thrust into. You never trusted a pretty boy, but you'd be damned if his flowered prose didn't stir something in you; you had never been the subject of such pursuits, real or not. Desire rushed through you, coiling in your stomach.

There was a beckoning in his eyes as they clutched onto yours, imporing you to draw closer, and his boyish features were even more alluring when caressed by the moon’s glow. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust those flowery words. They were tinted with an air of rehearse.

“Did these really work on Cazador’s targets?”

“Well, they’re working on you, aren’t they?”

A mild bashfulness buzzed through the warmth on your cheeks, as you couldn’t really deny it.

“How about if I said these little words… everyone’s favorite,” Astarion continued, pausing for effect.

“I love you.”

Sly amusement colored his face. He had succeeded in riling up the intrinsic urge, no matter how much you tried to conceal it. How adorable you were when your gaze fluttered briefly.

“Having fun, are you?” you observed, smile holding on your lips.

As he had mused earlier, he was. It was hard not to whenever around you.

Festivities settled down, the entire camp fast asleep once the wine crate had emptied and bellies were full. Only the chittering of crickets could be heard amongst the trees.

The forest, usually dressed in potent darkness, stilled beneath the moonlight. A serene, subtle beauty of the night – one Astarion was very accustomed to knowing, to living . He had done this so many times it had become second nature – the salacious rendezvous, the secrecy and fleeting thrill of them all.

He had contemplated before, the image of you melting in the throes of pleasure. He wondered whether you preferred his hands gentle or rough, what sounds would dribble from your lips – if they sounded as sweet as you tasted.

Though nothing could prepare him for the reality, which far surpassed fantasy; the pretty little thing you were, bare figure caressed by the lowlight, slowly making your way towards him.

“There you are. I’ve been waiting.”

You offered him a coy smile, cheeks still warm and rosy. An ache rushed between your legs at the sight of him sauntering forward, his well-formed broad physique. Lean, yet muscular – and the soft details of his appearance; the crease of laughter lines, the curl of his lashes. Just the anticipation of it all served enough to make you wet.

“Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you,” he leaned closer, desire coating every syllable.

“You don’t have me yet,” you matched the pulse of his words, emanating a playfulness to goad him on further.

Greedy lips suddenly met yours, and you were pressed against the tree trunk. His palms gripped the back of your thighs, swift dexterity almost catching you off guard. You instantly melted, like a puddle, in his grasp; your soft lips just as eager, skin aching and impatient for his touch. You never realized how sensitive you were, how truly touch-starved until you fought the gasp that escaped your throat.

Astarion didn’t waste a beat, carefully laying you onto the grass below while he drawled slow kisses along the curve of your neck. Fervent yearning permeated from your skin; you wanted more, and he was prepared to give you everything .

He drank in the sight of your arousal, eager to please you yet potently roused from the position he was in: you were such a delectably pretty thing sprawled beneath his weight, completely bare and vulnerable. Wide eyes bashfully beckoning him to just taste you.

“Part those precious legs for me, beautiful.” He directed, his voice less of a growl this time – instead more sweet. Soft.

You could feel your face heat up further at his words, following his command without hesitation. Tender hands trailed along the soft skin of your thigh, his intense eyes briefly leaving yours to watch his fingers lingered over your folds – you were glistening with slick , fevered arousal.

“Oh my, you’re already so wet for me.”

His voice was almost a whisper now, as a keen excitement rushed through his veins. A twitch pressed against his briefs, his cock already hard and eager especially when his eyes darted towards your rosy. So willing, ready to indulge his every whim. For a moment, he settled in your vulnerability – a sight he didn't expect to see. You were always full of such delicious surprises.

He shook the thought from his mind, allowing a sly smile to return to his lips.

“Who knew you were so needy?”

Your cheeks flushed, timid lips scrambling to form a defensive retort before he slipped two fingers inside. Only a quiet gasp left your mouth as your soaking warmth struggled to adjust, tightening around his digits. You were barely able to comprehend the words he said, instinctively bucking your hips.

“ Astar ..” your breath hitched before you could even finish, when his fingers began a slow pace. Teasingly slow, you would beckon, but there was nothing you could even fathom whispering anymore. Your walls began to clench, eager to receive his unwavering attention.

Hums of pleasure pulsed through your every nerve, rapidly as he fastened the curling pace of his fingers. Every hitched and quiet whimper encouraged him, his palm soaked with your slick. He relished the sight of your round breasts rising and falling feverishly, your heat clenched around him – his cock further hardened, precum no doubt pooling on the fabric of his briefs.

All you could manage was to focus on the pleasure mounting between your legs, thighs now quivering with anticipation. His thumb slid up to your swollen clit, never breaking pace, to draw teasingly slow circles. He adjusted his weight to lean closer to your face, the sudden attention causing an overwhelming shyness to press your eyes shut. Your thighs trembled more now while his fingers beckoned and lured your pleasure to spur closer and closer.

“Look at me,” he whispered, his voice the gentlest you’ve ever heard.

He couldn’t place the sensation – of feeling entranced in a sense, when whimpers of pleasure fumbled from your beautiful lips. Astarion almost felt lost, nearly mesmerized, when you kept those pretty eyes trained on his. He could feel his eyes soften at your vulnerable stare, and all at once everything inside him craved to slide into your warmth. To feel you melt into him, to hit every right spot to make you sing, for every sweet prayer cascading from your lips to be for him.

“Mmf..” You were left in a sudden foggy haze, a mix of pleasure and confusion when he abruptly withdrew his fingers. You couldn’t fathom any words to speak, only furrowed your brows in a hazed and disorientated manner.

“I’m sorry, love.” His breathless laugh seemed dazed before the low, heaviness returned to his tone, “You were practically just begging with those lovely eyes of yours.”

He leaned downwards to plant soft, reassuringly delicate pecks across the nape of your neck; each a mantra to affection, leaving a buzz in their wake. Carefully he peeled down his briefs with a wasted moment to rub his eager cock against your slick warmth.

Your moans sounded even sweeter closer to his ear, and a delighted sigh pressed from his lips onto your skin. His throbbing cock was met with some resistance as the length and girth was suffocated by your tightening walls, warm spasms at the sensation being filled.

A guttural, low moan hummed from his throat. Fuck, you were so perfectly tight.

His cock pulsed at the sudden attention, aching with pleasure and a warm buzz radiating through his skin. He paused for a moment, needing to relish every second it felt to be now pressed so deep inside you. The softness of your skin, delicate cues of pleasure washing over your face, how your warm walls enveloped his cock.

You moaned as he pushed more of his length inside your needy warmth, tears beginning to well up in the corner of your eyes. Pleasure and slight pain blurred, the tip of his cock almost pressed against your soft cervix and a rouse of heat traveling up your spine.

His hands gripped the globes of your ass to adjust his leverage, slowly but deliberately digging his hips against yours with each thrust. His body was achingly ready, alive with frantic urge. He was incapable of any pretty words to whisper, tangled groans replacing his usual velvet tongue.

As he pounded quicker into your warmth, your pulsating soft walls sucked his cock tighter and deeper with each buckle. He nestled his head into the nape of your neck. Sweat formed on his pale forehead as he wrestled with his restraint, his cock stroking in and out, hitting pleasure points you never knew existed and relishing in your shameless cries – desperate for him.

Soft, warm pleasure unraveled across you in hot waves. If you had the mind, you could only hope that no one could hear you two – the sounds and wet smacks of his skin colliding against yours – but all you could do was turn your pleasured cries and whimpers into soundless gasps.

Your lips parted, hips bucking before your back arched from the ground. Every fiber of your body attempted to get closer to him, and his to you. Of some act of grace, your hand caressed his face, lifting him to face yours.

Oh, how he wanted to melt right there.

Eager eyes met each other, brows furrowing together into a soft, tender stare. Astarion’s hips began to buck erratically for a moment as he struggled to regain his resolve. Once steadied, he continued to bury deeper into you in every perfect way. You were clenched so tightly, so divinely around him while his name trickled as a whisper from your lips.

“You – fuck .. “ you couldn’t be bothered to form a proper sentence, every whim of comprehension overwhelmed by new heights of white pleasure. You were lulled into a stupor, and his grip tightened at your garbled pleas.

“Thaaat’s it,” Astarion practically begged, voice ragged, his eyes never leaving your beautiful face as it twisted with sweet expressions. An eagerness gnawed inside him, to push you to the edge of your pleasures. You were so perfect while you cried his name, taking all of him so well.

“Come for me, sweet girl –” Hushed and delicate was his tone, only causing you to surrender any inhibition.

Heat wound tightly in your abdomen, lashes wet with the tears trailing down your warm face. Every nerve was wound so tight, finally snapping into a rush of white hot pleasure that left your skin flushed and tingling. You tried to whine out his name, but it spilled out into broken gasps as you reached your fingers to grip his silver curls.

His hips began to stagger, riding out your pleasure until he could no longer postpone the succumb to pleasure. They lost their rhythm, and a low moan rumbled from his throat as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of your tightening walls, pressing into you.

You could feel his cock throbbing in you, as your nerves are slow to fizzle from the glowing buzz, and it swelled. Your slick walls were overstimulated nearly by his desperate, choppy thrusts before a cry escapes his lips – his cum flooded into you, thick and hot. He felt waves of warmth, so real and alive. So helplessly right.

The air was silent, as you both collected your breaths in hurried gasps. Astarion peeled his weight off of you only to roll onto his back, by your side. Your body felt light and completely slack, almost boneless as you sunk into the earth underneath you. Aftershocks of pleasure still rippled throughout your nerves.

Both of you laid sweaty, flushed, exhausted, lacking the energy to care. You broke the silence with a wobble in your voice.

“Fuck, you came inside me..” you stated the obvious, reeling from pulsing nerves and vision hazy.

“I’m sure the druids have something that’ll take care of that..” Astarion said breathlessly, extending an arm to wipe the sweat glistening off his forehead.

He waited for a quiet laugh or a retort, but neither came.

Turning his head, he was met with the vision of your exhausted figure fast asleep. Slowly your chest rose and fell, face at ease – a vulnerability he had only seen when you were in deep sleep, if you weren't tossing and turning.

The quiet sat with him while he attempted to gather his thoughts, his experience. He had seen an entirely different side of you – exposed delicate. Part of his conscience pooled with guilt.

He had a plan. A nice simple plan. It wasn’t foreign to casually bed strangers, seducing and manipulating them into following his every whim. Hells, this had been routine for two hundred years . The count was lost on how many nights he spent using people like ragdolls, only to be lured back into the hands of Cazador.

Astarion returned his gaze to the stars glistening above, attempting his best at reducing it to the odd circumstances or perhaps he was simply out of practice.

Regardless – even if it was more than a fluke – he had already fucked things up. The thought felt tainted now, uneasy and riddled with remorse.

Little did he know that evening, that was the beginning of his plan crumbling apart.

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suksatoru · 3 months ago

Text

his hero... ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

synopsis; dabi finds his new obsession - you - a sweet hero who he loves to play cat and mouse with ⊹₊ ⋆

pairing dabi x reader!

Dabi has been watching you for a while now.

He shouldn't be anywhere near you - he knows this. But he simply can't help himself. How can he when the most wonderful hero is right in front of him - kind voice weaving through the crowd as you attend to all the children running up to you, begging for an autograph?

He had originally ventured to the better part of the city, where kids played freely in their front yards and vendors sold their fruits and vegetables to passerby’s without fear. He didn't know why he did exactly - but a change of scenery felt necessary.

He didn't tell the League a thing, wordlessly leaving their hideout in dark jeans and hoodie pulled over his head as he began what he believed to be a quiet stroll.

He heard the voices of excited chatter before he actually saw you. Turning the corner, he already anticipated the crowd of people had only formed because they had spotted a pro-hero. He was right of course, and as he tried to push through the crowd to pass through - he struggled to easily maneuver through the mass of people. There were too many.

Normally, he would've shoved every single person in his way to the ground if he had to - but he knew just how much attention that would attract in this type of environment. Especially if a hero was nearby. With a quiet groan, he realizes he's stuck.

Finally, he lifts his eyes off the ground to see the hero all these people were fawning so much over.

You're kneeling on the ground as a little boy is crying the happiest of tears, eyes shining with nothing but childish adoration while he hugs you. You whisper something in the toddler's ear that sends him into a fit of giggles - and Dabi watches how you treat all the children that follow him in the same manner, kindly offering them your undivided attention and treating them with the upmost respect. Every child left your embrace with the widest grin ever plastered on their chubby cheeks.

Dabi's eyes were solely on you - a beacon of light that completely outshined the darkness.

That was the first time Dabi saw you.

˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

"Come on, hero! Come catch me." he drawls out

Your legs ache. Just how long had you been chasing the notorious flame villain Dabi for? This was nearing the second hour, and every other hero in the area was unavailable to come help you as back up.

"You are insufferable!"

He tries not to smile, peering down at you from the building he was perched upon as he watches your eyebrows furrow adorably, lips pulled back into a frown as your gaze narrows.

You had been seeing a lot of Dabi recently. He was building quite the reputation amongst the city, wreaking havoc and petty crimes often. If only you knew they were all to get your attention.

"I think it's pretty funny no heroes are around to help you, huh? I get you all to myself tonight." He says, and the unmistakable flush on the tips of your ears evokes a raspy laugh from him

"Why are you doing this? Don't you have better things to do?" You sigh, exasperated by the endless chase he had you running. He's silent, still smirking at you deep in thought - he was contemplating his next move, and you know he had made up his mind when his lips curled into a menacing smirk

He comes down from where he was perched atop a building, landing on the ground with a gracefulness that had you mentally scoffing. You've been going insane out of your mind chasing him, out of breath too as you tried to keep up with one of the most powerful villains - but he seemed so relaxed, almost as if he were playing some sort of a game.

A blast of flame shoots from his palm - and you let out a cry of surprise before shielding yourself from the unexpected attack

The fire wraps around you - it was hot, licking your skin as it moved - but the flames did not touch you. They were merely a distraction.

Lowering your hands from your face, you realize you've lost sight of Dabi.

You're completely still for a moment - unsure of what move to make next as you realized he was hiding somewhere in the shadows. The moonlight above gave you no advantage in this fight. It barely lit the dim street you stood on, and your heart beat pounded in your ears as you realized the situation you were in.

"Hey hero! Now that I think about it, I remember hearing a little something about you."

You whip around in a panic, trying to find Dabi's figure in the dark as your eyes squint in frustration

Night patrol had been going so smoothy - of course he had to show up right when your shift was about to end.

"Dabi - "

You can barely finish saying his name before he holds his hands up in mock surrender, grinning mockingly when you slowly lower your own hands. He knew your hero heart was too good to attack him unless he made the first, violent move.

"What do you want from me?" You sigh, and he stuffs his hands back into the pockets of his coat with a shrug

"Can't I drop by and spend some time with my girlfriend?"

There he goes again. Saying the most random things at the most random times that leave you a stuttering, blushing mess -

"W - What? You are not my boyfriend!" You yell, genuine frustration in your features as you tap your foot impatiently against the ground - unsure of where he was going with this conversation

"Yet." He rasps with a crazed grin

A shiver runs through you at his words.

Your eyes harden, narrowing on him once again as he finally pounces- he didn't use his quirk - instead, his hand reached out towards you with the speed of light as he tried to wrap it around you. You dodge his attack, side stepping and wrapping a single leg around his. He struggles for a moment with his balance before he's pinned against the nearest building - his back hits the brick wall with a thud, and a flicker of surprise flashes through those bright blue eyes as he looks at you

You had managed to best him - and a part of him was happy you did. The lamplight illuminated your face, and his mind trailed back to the way your face glowed when his blue flames had come near you.

Finally - you had him under your control. You press his body against the wall with all your weight - hand raised to the side of his face as a warning that you would activate your quirk if he tried to escape -

Yes, you had finally gotten him -

"You're really pretty, ya'know that?"

You blink back at the villain - taken a back by his words mid fight as your grip on him loosened just the slightest bit - and that was all he needed to knock you off your feet, flipping your arms as he pinned your wrists to the wall, enticing a gasp from you

He grins, tongue poking through his sharp teeth as he peers down at you

"Real pretty..."

Your quirk was of no use if you couldn't move your hands - and he held your wrists above your head with a single hand against the wall, his knee keeping your legs separated as he prevented you from making a single move

"Imagine how much fun you'd have on a date with me - I promise, it'll be the best night of your life. You haven't even given this poor man a chance. " He mocks, bright eyes watching you with a sly smirk as you struggle to release yourself from his grip

"Let go!" You cry out, trying to push him off of you - it didn't help that he was so much larger, his tall figure towering over you as he laughed

"Nuh uh. I don't think so." He drawls out, and you can feel his grip on you tightening as his free hand comes down to gently tug on a loose strand of hair - you move forward to try and bite his finger - and he yanks his hand back at the last second, a hoarse cackle sounding through the air as you glare at him

"Aren't you just precious?"

You're fed up now - tired of him playing cat and mouse with you. Twisting your arm - you maneuver yourself around him and free yourself from his grasp - planting a firm kick onto his back before he can even turn around

That kick would've knocked the wind out of any one else’s lungs - but as he kneeled on the ground - his hands being pulled behind his back by you, a dark chuckle leaves his lips.

"If you wanted me on my knees like this, you could've just asked me hero." He says, and his eyes widen when you press your palm against his mouth to silence him

"Stop it."

He can see the undeniable blush coating your soft cheeks - and he grins sharply at the lovely sight, hoping he can stare at you long enough to engrave it into his brain forever.

Of course, he escaped police custody mere days after being let out of your sights.

˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

one week later - the day of his escape.

"A present?" You mumble quietly, smiling to yourself as you pick up the bouquet left outside your door. Dark blue flowers are bundled together with white lace, and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

This was obviously a personal gift - not something from one of your fans. You're home was a private location, so the only reasonable conclusion as to who gifted this bouquet to you was one of your other hero friends.

A small card is tucked between the petals of a flower, and you pry it open with delicate fingers while reading the lanky, dark handwriting written on it.

Go check what's on your bed, hero ;)

You freeze, eyes scanning over the note again as you try to take in the words - your bed? inside your apartment? But - how did Dabi find you? Again?

You fumble with your keys, heart beating as you shove them into the door knob- twisting it open as you rush inside, flowers still in hand as you approach your bedroom

There's a husky smell - one simply too manly to be yours, and it hits your nostrils the second you enter your bedroom.

On your bed laid your hero costume.

The name "Dabi" was written obsessively over every inch of the fabric in dark ink.

It didn't seem like this was a little liking Dabi took to you anymore - no, this was a need - one that burned too fiercely to be put out

Lucky you.

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thinkinonsense · 2 months ago

Text

Touchཐིཋྀ

origins!logan howlett x fem!reader x black widow!natasha romanoff

cw: mdni!! oral (f+f), strap-on sex, fingering, squirting, doggy style, p in v, angst, some fluff, angsttt, dom!nat & dom!logan x sub!reader

masterlist

after a life of running and living in fear of an impending doom, you and logan had finally managed to build a peaceful life together. deep in the woods sat a wooden cabin where the two of you spent most of your days.

during the week, logan worked down at the lumberyard while you taught ballet to a group of young girls downtown. your boyfriend didn't know much of your past, just that you were tested on and abused back in russia. he never pressured you to talk about the past, his wasn't any better either.

buried in the back of your closet hid a box of belongings from russia. there weren't many things you valued from that time there but you did manage to take some photos of the girls you were friends with, a few journal, and an old pager given to you by someone you no longer knew. her face was everywhere but she never bothered to reach out again after escaping the red room.

"i'll see you later, honey." logan whispered as he kissed your cheek then left the bedroom.

half asleep still, you mumble a goodbye before your head hit the pillow again for the next couple of hours. you didn't have a class today but instead planned on going to town and getting groceries for the week.

it's a little after one when you finally jump in the shower, listing all the things you needed to buy and what you wanted to make for dinner. while picking out an outfit, you hear a faint vibration. logan kept your toys under the bed so, you knew that wasn't where the noise was coming from.

it could be?

inside the box, you can see the familiar number flash. hesitantly, you walk over to the phone and dial. pacing back and forth on the wooden floor, waiting for an answer.

"эй, принцесса."

hey, princess

you knew that voice like the back of your hand but you still couldn't believe it.

"natalia." your accent came out thick and heavy. she should've expected you to be upset still.

it's been everywhere. the news of the sokovia accords and the freeing of the winter soldier. you were keeping up with the news but not too closely. it was irritating watching natasha get to play super hero with the likes of iron man and captain america when you knew the truth.

"can we talk? i need a favor." she sounded desperate.

"i don't think that's a good idea." you sigh, unable to come up with a good excuse.

"c'mon, for old times sake?"

you hesitate. of course you missed her, how could you not? despite the red room being the worst time of your life, natalia was the daylight that kept you going.

"you don't even know where i am."

"look out your kitchen window."

pulling back the curtain, there she stood on your porch. long red hair just like you remembered, a small suite case next to her and a pair of black sunglasses covering her eyes. you hang up the phone and grab a kitchen knife from the counter; moving closer to the door.

"how did you find me?" you squint, feeling somewhere between anger and impressed.

"an old friend owed me a favor." she shrugs. "i didn't picture you as a living among the trees type of girl. you know, it quite dangerous to live alone in the woods."

"i can take care of myself" you remind her before adding, "and i don't live alone."

natasha's face falls a little. if you didn't know her as well as you did, you never would've been able to tell. she had a million questions but wasn't sure if she wanted the answers.

"what was the favor you needed?" you ask, trying to change the subject.

"i need a place to lay low for a bit."

was it horrible that you had to remind yourself that you are with logan now? now you love logan more than anything but you would be lying if you said natasha didn't hold a special place in your heart still.

"no games, nat." you put on your best poker face, knowing she could see right through you.

"even though i do miss playing with you," her lips linger closely to yours. sharing the same air. "i promise, no games."

"good. there's a guest room inside."

the two of you enter the house again and you show her the extra room. it's not very decorated, simply and neat. natasha didn't mind, she was just thankful you hadn't tried to fight her once you saw her again.

"so, who's the lucky lady that managed to tie you down?" nat chuckles to herself as she unpacks her things.

"his name is logan." you answer nervously.

why were you nervous? you didn't owe her anything, especially after the way she left you.

natasha felt the knife in her chest twist at the news. not only had you moved on but you were sickly in love. maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

a car door slams shut, snapping both of you back into reality.

"i'll be back. there's towels under the sink if you want to take a shower." you linger in the door way, waiting for her to turn and catch a glimpse of you before you leave.

"thanks, принцесса."

she doesn't even look up at you.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

logan could smell trouble miles away. the blood soaked in her jacket. the faint smell of her sweat and your cherry perfume. he assumed you were in trouble, maybe someone broke in or lured you out of the house to attack you. within seconds, he was back in his truck to check up on you.

"hey, honey." you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

"hey... are you... are you alright?" he struggled to get out in between kisses.

"mhm, i was thinking we could go for a drive." you were talking too fast, trying to distract him from whatever was inside.

"what's going on, sweetheart?" one of his brows arched, waiting for the truth.

both of you climb into the truck but logan never starts the car. instead he listens to the rapid beating of your heart.

"there's something—someone, from my past that's inside. she needed a place to lay low for a little bit."

logan could tell by your lack of eye contact that there was something you were still hiding something about this friend of yours.

"I won't be upset." he saying lovingly, reaching for your hand.

"when i was in the red room, i worked closely with a woman that i also was in a relationship with at the time."

logan wasn't sure why you were nervous to tell him this? he knew you liked women as well and he wasn't threatened by it. sure, is it a bit odd that your ex was coming here to hide out? defintely but logan of all people should know what it's like to be in need of somewhere to hide out.

"it was more than just physical. she meant a lot to me until..." you debated on telling him more but still on the fence.

"until?" he tests the waters.

"dreykov sent me to budapest. she never looked for me." on the verge of tears, you bite down on your tongue. "it killed me because not only did she leave me but she abandoned all the other girls that were stuck in the red room."

logan pulls you into his chest, stroking your hair gently, letting you know that it's okay to cry. your brain didn't get the memo because nothing came out.

"you don't have to let her stay here if it's too much for you." he reminds you.

"i know. i'm just not sure if i can handle her leaving again."

"must've really loved her, huh, princess?"

you nod softly into his chest.

"i don't mind if she stays but if you don't want her too, that's fine too." he says. "just want you to be happy."

in times like these, it hits you just how lucky you are to be with someone like logan. someone so understanding and loving. he knew the pain you went through all those years ago and how deep the connection with the woman inside must be. you can't survive that level of abuse without something keeping you going. for you, that something was natasha.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

inside the house, natasha watched you and logan out in the car. slightly intimidated by your boyfriends stature and entirely jealous of his arms wrapped around you. she had to remind herself that you were practically a stranger to her now. so much has changed over the years and neither of you were the same girls from the red room anymore.

when she saw the two of you exiting the car, she rushed back into the guest room. in the tiny hallway, she noticed the picture frames on the wall. there's a photo of a group of young ballerinas and yourself. natasha wonders if that's how you keep yourself connected to your past life.

next to your picture is your boyfriend -whatever his name was- and some of his friends outside of a fancy looking school. natasha tried to pay little attention to it on her way back to the room.

ten minutes pass before there's a soft knock on the door.

"come in." natasha calls out, turning off the television.

from behind the door, you appear with a plate and a glass in your hands. the smile on her lips, drops the moment she sees him at your tail.

"thought you might be hungry." you explain, handing her the sandwich you made for her

"isn't that sweet of you to think of me," she teases, watching the way your cheeks flush with color at her words.

logan leans against the door frame while you sit on the bed with natasha. he watched as you completely bewitched the red headed woman in front of you. she was practically hanging onto every word you said. he couldn't blame her though, you have the same effect on him.

"you must be 'lucky logan' ?"natasha cocks her head at the man behind you.

"guess so." he smirks, admiring the doe eyes you give him.

"hm, and you're okay with me staying here?" she asks.

"that's not up to me." logan shrugs.

natasha's green eyes shift over to your face, waiting for you to say something.

"i want you here, nat." you admit.

her heart flutters in her chest. she knew she didn't deserve a second chance and would leave if you asked her too but god, was she grateful that you still wanted her to be here.

"i don't deserve you, принцесса." she says softly, finding it hard to mask her feelings anymore.

"shhh..." you tell her. "just get some rest."

natasha actually listens to you, finishing her sandwich and crawling under the soft comforter. you reach for the empty plate and she stops you before you could walk away; placing a soft kiss on the inside of your palm. the tiny gasp that left your mouth didn't sneak past either of them in the room. once she let you go, you and logan exit the room and go into your own shared bedroom.

logan watched you pace back and forth, wiping her kiss mark off on your blue jeans. it pulled at his heart strings to see you so torn by natasha's presence. tears fall down your face like rain.

"don't cry, sweetheart." logan says, wrapping his arms around you.

"i'm s-sorry, lo..." you apologize, upset at yourself for still harvesting these feelings towards natasha.

"for what?" he asks, lifting up your chin to look at him.

"i love you so much." you blurt out, too afraid to say what you really wanted to.

"i know. i love you too." he smiles, bending down to give you a quick kiss then adding, "and i know you love her too."

"it's not–"

"it's okay." he assures you. "i'm not upset."

"you aren't?" you question, prepared for him to storm out and want nothing to do with you ever again.

"no."

without thinking, you completely collapse into his arms, so thankful for the man in front of you.

"i don't deserve you, logan." you whisper, kissing him gently.

"don't say that." he says sternly. "i'm just trying to give you everything you want in life."

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

hours later, natasha woke up. she could smell faint tobacco from somewhere in the house. it was enough to get her out of bed to see where it was coming from. in the living room, she found logan on the couch watching a western and smoking a cigar with his boots up on the coffee table. he didn't have to turn around to know that nat was there.

"she went to the grocery store to get something for dinner." he says nonchalantly answering the question in your head.

natasha hummed in response, keeping a distance from logan in case he decides to do something rash like fight her.

"you can sit down, you know?" he chuckles, blowing the smoke from his mouth. "i'm not gonna attack you or anything."

"i wouldn't blame you if you did." she remarks, picking the single chair in the living room to sit down at.

"the only way i would do that is if you decide to hurt her again." he states frankly, eyes glued to the television screen.

"i suppose that's fair; but i don't plan on it."

"good. she's practically a damn saint."

natasha smiles a little at his words.

"yeah, she is." she says. “i wish i hadn’t left her the way that i did but there wasn’t much choice in the matter.”

“why did you leave her there?”

“dreykov found out about us. he threatened to have her sold off somewhere to someone who would probably kill her or worse.” natasha’s voice was tiny for once. painfully reminding her of the past she tried to burry. “thought i made it easier by leaving. she doesn’t know it but i did try to go back for her. twice actually. once by myself and another time with my friend, clint. the first time, she didn’t recognize me. the second time, he ordered her to kill me. barely made it out alive."

logan remembered how after a couple of months dating, you opened up about your memory issues. constantly feeling like you were missing a piece of the puzzle that was your life from all the experiments. it’s one of the things that helped you two connect with each other.

“i’ve seen her kill with her bare hands. seen her tied to tables with needles injected into her until she was blue in the face and spitting up blood. she was one of his favorite’s. used to wake up to her screaming from the nightmares.”

“she still gets them sometimes.” logan mutters.

nastasha nods, wiping a tear away quickly.

“do you think she will ever forgive me?”

“i think so.”

“do you think i deserve it?”

“probably not,” he said honestly with a shrug. “but that’s not up to me.”

natasha appreciated his candor at least.

“she’s back.” logan said before she could even hear the car approaching.

logan got up to help you bring in the bags. once both of you are inside, you spot nat sitting in the living room awake.

"hey, whatcha doin’ awake already?” you ask.

"i haven’t been awake long.” she answers, getting up and joining you in the kitchen.

“i’m making pasta, hope that’s alright with you?”

“of course. want some help?”

you instruct her to boil the noodles while you prepare the sauce. the two of you stand close next to each other as nat watches over your shoulder.

"have you heard from yelena lately?" you ask, making small talk.

"no." nat's voice came out a whisper. "have you?"

"mhm." you hum, stirring the sauce. "she called a month ago, asked what i knew about these red vitals she was given."

"vitals?"

"yeah, i told her my memory isn't as good as it used to be."

natasha reaches over and lightly touches your ponytail, twirling the ends around her fingers to help ease you. that’s how she used to calm you down as teenagers, by playing with your hair. deep down you knew you shouldn’t look at her, not this close anyways. nat could smell your cherry perfume, over powering her senses. her plump lips tempted you, sending an ache down to your lower region. she watches you intensely, waiting for you to make a move and wanting you more than ever.

unbeknownst to either of you, logan knew what was going on. he could smell the need forming in your underwear, could practically hear natasha’s dirty thoughts about you. most boyfriends would feel threatened by this but logan was different. he worshipped the ground you walked on and he always valued your happiness. why would he deny you of the love you deserved?

"i-i'm gonna go grab some wine from the cellar." you stutter, leaving her there alone.

nat nods, walking back into the living room to breathe.

"you can kiss her, if she wants you too." logan says aloud, tapping off the end of his cigar on the ashtray next to him.

"you aren't just saying that so then you would have an excuse to try and kill me, are you?" she squints.

"she won't make the first move. too afraid that she'll hurt me." he replied, ignoring natasha's comment.

"you wouldn't care?" she questions.

"no."

"what if i wanted to do more than kiss her?"

"its up to her."

logan watches natasha's eyes cloud with lust at the thought. how could he fault her? you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen in all 200+ years of his life. plus he would be lying in he said that he wouldn't find it hot to see you and natasha going at it.

"hey, is red okay?" you ask, holding a bottle up as you rounded the corner.

both logan and nat looked at you with these hungry looking eyes like you were their prey. logan's nostrils flare a little at the sweet scent.

"r-reds fine." nat stutters, her throat was dry at the thought of being back in between your thighs.

"cool, i'll get the glasses."

as you turn to leave, logan calls after you, "can you bring me a beer, sweetheart?"

"of course" you nod, obediently.

when you return, the three of you sit and watch the western playing for a few minutes until logan huffs loudly, sick of this tension and neither of you two doing anything about it.

"are you two gonna kiss 'n make up already, or what?" logan teases.

natasha and you find each others blown out gaze. both of you needed this. needing closure.

"fuck it." natasha mumbles to herself, getting up and coming over to you.

the redhead straddles you on the couch, caressing your jaw in her delicate palm. you nod your head, letting her know that you wanted this as much as she did. from her first taste of you, she knew it would be impossible to pull away.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

nat chases your plump kiss bitten red lips, backing you up until your legs hit the edge of the bed. your hands are up her shirt and under her bra, squeezing the soft flesh of her tits. rubbing your thumb over the blooming bud and listening to her pretty moans against your lips. she lays you down and strips herself of her clothes. you rush to do the same, wiggling out of your jeans.

behind nat, you see logan walk in with his beer in his hand and take a seat across from you in the corner. knowing that he's watching sent shivers down your spine. it wasn't until natasha grabbed your chin and squished your cheeks together that you realized you had been staring at logan.

"it's not his turn, it's mine." she taunts.

you nod your head and babble out an apology. she removes her grip on you only to lay down in between your thighs. a sight that you missed dearly.

"natty, please don't tease." you whine, arching at the soft kisses she trails inside of your thighs and hip bones, avoiding where you needed her most.

she smiles at the fact that your already shaking with anticipation. surprisingly, she looks over at logan.

"keep her legs spread for me, would ya'?" she asks.

he nods, already hard in his blue jeans. logan joins you two on the bed, sitting behind you and letting you rest comfortable against his chest. he places your legs over his to keep you open for natasha. she groans, sucking a dark plum bruise on your hipbone. meanwhile, logan's leaving similar marks on your neck and along your shoulder.

"please." you whine, wiggling your hips in her face. both natasha and logan can smell your arousal in the air. it's intoxicating.

"patients, baby." she scolds before licking a fat stripe over your clothed cunt.

"w-wanna feel you nat."

without hesitation, natasha tears the lacy material from your body and spreads you open. it's been years since she had last seen you in this position. she needs a moment to capture your angelic imagine.

"there's my girl." nat says, talking to your cunt. completely ignoring you and logan like you two aren't even in the room.

"isn't she a fuckin sight?" logan finally speaks up.

right as you open your mouth to beg her to do something, anything, she leaning in again to lick from your entrance up to your button.

"missed this pussy, принцесса..." nat says sloppily into your folds. "so wet for me."

"uh-uh." you moan, throwing your head back.

logan turns your chin to capture your lips, letting you moan freely into his mouth while his hands come up to massage your tits. fingers pinching and rolling the stiff buds in his palms.

natasha spends a while making out with your cunt; taking her time to savor the honey that pours from inside of you. she pulls back for a second to spit on your mound, letting it drip down before inserting her middle and ring finger. hers weren't nearly as thick as logan's but they are longer and still feel perfect in their own way. she watches how you and logan move together while she pumps in and out of you. for once, she didn't feel jealous of logan for having you. instead it made her heart swell to know that someone else loves you just as much as she does.

despite all the pleasure you felt, selfishly you wanted more. your right hand moves to intertwine itself into nat's red locks, pulling her head back to where you needed her most. her tongue swirled circles over your swollen bud, teasing it playfully. her fingers move faster inside of you as she grinds her clothed cunt against the mattress, moaning against your folds.

"ya' feel good, sweetheart?" logan asks, placing a soft kiss on your hairline.

"sooo good, lo." you purr, gazing up at him with doe eyes.

his low chuckle makes you clench down had on natasha's fingers. all that can be heard in the room are low moans and wet squelching noises. nat kitten licks your button until you reach your first high of the night.

too caught in euphoria to control your legs wrapping around her neck, squeezing her head with your thighs. your loud moans were barely audible to her at this moment. the red head could die happily right here, right now.

carefully, she pulls off of you.

"you did so good for me, принцесса." she praises, stroking your thighs.

as soon as natasha sits up, you reach out and kiss her, tasting yourself on her plump maroon lips. she melts into the kiss making it easy for you to flip her over on her back. logan gets up again, unbuckling his belt as he watches the two of you grind on each other in messy, uncoordinated movements.

"wish you could fuck me like old times, nat." you mumble, kissing her chest and leaving little love bites behind.

"i-i could..." she hesitates.

already ahead of her, logan's rummaging through her backpack and hold up a familiar contraption.

"lookin' for this, red?" he smirks, tossing the strap-on onto the bed next to her.

the last time nat wanted either of you two think is that she just dropped by to fuck you and leave but what can she say? she's prepared for anything.

"is this alright with you, pretty girl?" she asks you in between lightly nibbling on your pulse point while you grind your cunt against the soft skin of her abs.

natasha pulls back to look at you. her hand cradles your jaw, waiting for your answer.

"i need it natty." you nod. "need you inside of me."

those words make her blue eyes turn a stormy dark grey. in a rush, she puts it on and lets you line yourself up to the silicone. despite all the time apart, the two of you fell back into a seamless rhythm together. one of her hands rests on your hip, helping you move up and down while the other paws at your chest, rolling the stiff bud.

"uh-fuck." you whine, throwing your head back when she angles her hips up with a sharp snap.

"that's the spot, huh?" she smirks, watching your pretty face scrunch up as you try and focus.

weakly, you nod your head and babble something incoherent to both hers and logan's ears. it's not the same feeling that logan gives you obviously but the way natasha's fucking up into you makes you feel just as good.

logan makes his way over to you, palming his boxer covered cock as he leans down to make out with you. willingly, giving in as his tongue explores your mouth messily with a hand in your hair. natasha uses this to her advantage, bringing her thumb up to your clit and circle it slowly in contrast to the jolts of her hips hitting yours. logan swallows every little moan that spills from your plump lips.

" 'm so close, natty." you whimper, tears in your waterline as logan's sucks on your pulse point.

"is that so, baby?" she mocks with a light roll of her hips.

"d-don't stop, please." you beg, bouncing faster to chase your high.

natasha and logan were both wishing that they could feel you clenching around them instead of the silicone.

logan's big rough hands help you bounce in rhythm as soon as he sees your movements slow down.

"c'mon, princess." logan groans in your ear. "we wanna see you fall apart for us."

"cum for us, sweet girl." natasha purrs, sitting up to suck on your tit and picking up speed with her thumb.

that's all it takes for you to release on top of nat, hips shaking violently while you leaked all over her lap. eyes screwed shut, stars coming into vision as you try to calm yourself down again. it just felt so good to feel the contrasts between her and logan when they fuck you.

carefully, logan picks you up off of natasha's strap. she takes it off and throws it aside, watching logan help you recover.

"don't ya' think natasha deserves something too for how good she's made you feel, princess?" logan asks you.

"mhm." you nod, crawling in between her legs. "wanna thank you properly, natty."

natasha thinks she might cum just from looking at your big doe eyes in between her thighs. you play flat on your stomach, kissing the plush soft skin. her hips wiggle impatiently in your face. the sweet smell of her arousal reminded you of all the other intimate moments the two of you have shared. within seconds, you're ripping off her lacy black panties and tossing them somewhere to the side of the bed.

"so fuckin' pretty 'n so wet." you mumble to yourself as you pull her fold apart, watching her slick drip from her entrance. "is this all for me?"

"o-only for you, baby." she says with a shaky breath.

you lean forward licking a strip from her entrance to her button. your hands wrap under her thighs and pull her tight against your face, letting her use you however she wanted. natasha grinds down on your tongue, moaning when your nose occasionally bumping her clit. she taste sweeter than any other times you've buried your tongue inside of her.

"love how good your tongue feels, baby." she moans, brushing your hair out of your face.

mind fully focused on nat that you don't even register logan shifting around behind you, running his tip up and down your pussy. lightly slapping your clit before thrusting inside of you. his cock stretches you deliciously, making you moan against natasha's cunt. her fingers pulls a bit at your hair from the vibrations. it's always a struggle to get him to fit inside of you.

"tightest pussy in the fuckin' world, i swear." he mumbles to himself, watching you swallow him whole.

logan's thrusts start to increase as he paws at the flesh of your ass. his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly, making it hard for you to keep your mouth around nat. your forehead pressed against her thigh while you try to concentrate, licking your fingers and inserting them into natasha's tight warm cunt.

"fuck!" nat moans, clenching around your two fingers as they reach that spongey spot deep inside of her. "faster, принцесса. wanna cum for you."

her dirty words sent you into a frenzy. using all of your strength left to make her gush. the noises were so lewd it made your head spin. her back arches and soft moans fall from her lips as she tugs on your hair. like a faucet, she's leaking all over your hand, your face, and down on yours and logan's shared sheets.

behind you, logan is too busy trying not to cum inside of you too soon. he's gripping your hips so hard you know that there will be bruising left behind. every now and then you can hear him grunting and smack the fat of your ass, watching as it bounces back at him. the pleasure builds in your tummy. logan's hand snakes under you to rub at your clit.

"f-faster, lo." you whimper, lifting your mouth off of natasha for a second.

"i gotcha, princess." he groans, doing so.

within seconds, you release all over him. the string of moans vibrate against nat's core, overstimulating her until she cums again, soaking your face entirely. logan doesn't last much longer either. he paints your walls white and keeps you stuffed with his cum, only pulling out when it starts to sting a little.

the three of you are quiet for a moment, needing time to recover. who would've thought that two russia assassins and a mutant would need time to recover from anything, let alone sex.

logan's the first to move, going to bring towels and some water. you rest your head on natasha's stomach, she runs her nails against your scalp the same way she would when you woke up from nightmares. a tear rolls down your cheek, thinking about her running away again.

"what's wrong, принцесса?" she whispers, hearing you soft cry.

"just dreading you leaving again." you mutter, afraid to look up at her.

"hey, i'll be here as long as you want me here." she says, lifting your chin up.

"tasha, someone needs to save those girls. dreykov won't stop until someone comes after him."

there's a long pause of silence before she says anything again. her eyes glued to the ceiling, trying not to cry.

"you know, i used to picture a simple life for the two of us. something similar to this actually, minus the grumpy looking man in the kitchen. i wanted to give you a piece of normalcy but i kept running away, afraid i was the one putting you in harms way." she sighs shakily. "i shouldn't have ran. i should've come back. there's so much i couldn't give you but i see that logan can do that for you."

"look, i love logan more than anything but why can't we make it work too?" your question makes both natasha and logan pause, as he returns into the bedroom.

natasha looks up at logan, ready for him to finally yell and kick her out. especially now that she's coming between the two of you. instead he's looking over at you with a spark of love in his gaze.

"i don't think logan would appreciate sharing you full time." she says, avoiding your wide eyed stare.

"i just want my girl to be happy." he responds, lighting another cigar. "think she would be happier with both of us, red."

the time has never been right for you and natasha but who says it needs to be? she's finally back in your life again and you can't risk letting her go again.

"we will help you track down yelena and fight with you to free those girls from the redroom but i want you here with us, natty. please don't go again."

she finally looks down at you and her heart melts. how would she be able to leave you again? not after today. this is where her heart lied, here with you.

"of course, i'll stay принцесса."

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minus-plus-zer0 · 3 months ago

Text

One Good Grovel

♡ Genre: Fluff (trust me), little crack ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Established relationships

You and Katsuki had your biggest fight in a while.

Both sides fought like they were out for blood. You two said things you shouldn't have, things that were hard to take back. It ended with Bakugou storming out of your shared apartment.

The moment he did, he regretted it. But he didn't know how to go back inside and say it.

Hours later after he came home from doing errands, Bakugou found you on the couch. You hadn't answered any of his texts, and Bakugou never felt so helpless before. He was already losing you fast, and he couldn't dawdle now. Bakugou dumped his groceries on the kitchen counter and then approached you. Neither of you said anything.

You still looked torn up about your earlier argument, your hair a little messy in a way that Bakugou liked. He'd prefer to be the one messing it up himself, but he knew he didn't deserve that privilege now. Bakugou threw an extra blanket over you, because you looked like you needed one.

"Yo," Bakugou said, sitting down beside you on the couch. "How've you been holding up?"

"...I don't wanna talk about it. Not with you."

Your voice was frail, quiet. It broke Bakugou's heart, knowing that he put you in this position.

He had to make it right.

"I'm sorry," Bakugou said. "For everything I said. I wouldn't be surprised if ya never wanted to talk to me ever again after this." You looked at him suspiciously. "It'd kill me if you did, but that's fine. 'Cause I value your feelings over mine. When I was out today, all I could think about was you and what I said to you. So I bought you some gifts and I really hope you'll love 'em."

Bakugou reached out to stroke your hair. "And I promise you, I'll never say that demeaning shit to you ever again. You mean more to me than winning that stupid argument, and I don't know where I'd be in my life without you by my side. I was wrong, okay? I was dead wrong for treating you like that, like anything less than the best. Most of all, I just want ya to take me back and love me. But I won't force ya to do anything. I can walk out that door again and leave you alone if you asked. And if you hate me forever... I understand."

You smiled at him. "...Okay, I hear you."

"...So do ya hate me now?"

You still smiled. "Only a whole bunch. You monster." You playfully punched him in the face.

"Sorry," Bakugou said, matching your sweet expression. "I deserved that. Punch me all ya want. Won't even stop ya."

You gave him several more feather-light punches. "You're soooo dead."

"Ya gonna call the cops on me too? Make sure I never do that shit again? Make sure I learn my lesson instead of forgiving me too easily?"

"Yes." You fluffed his hair. "They're already on their way. The conviction of a famous Pro Hero is gonna be the scandal of a century!"

Bakugou fixed his hair. "Well I'll still love ya, even while in jail."

You crossed your arms. "Only after you've served your 10-year sentence and repent through hours and hours of community service will I finally forgive you. Then you'll be free, we'll start all over, and we'll fall in love again."

"Deal," Bakugou said, kissing your forehead. "But I wanna skip to the end."

"No, that's the easy way out!"

"The hell? You're not actually gonna send me to jail for saying it was wrong to like Pepsi over Coca-Cola, are ya?"

"That's how the roleplay is going!"

"It ain't that serious! I said I was sorry babe! I'm sorry!"

You recalled what you originally fought about quite easily...

"Alright," Bakugou said. "I'm gonna head out for groceries. Any last minute changes to the shopping list?"

"Oh yes!" You rushed out to meet him in the entrance. "Could you get me some Pepsi? Pretty please?"

"What the fuck?" Bakugou looked at you like you grew two heads. "'Pepsi'? You want freaking 'Pepsi'?!"

You shrugged. "...Is that so bad? It'd be nice to have something besides Coca-Cola for once..."

Bakugou's eyes narrowed into slits. He shut the front door and approached you. "I didn't realize we had a freaking problem here. You're telling me I've been buying the wrong soda for you this entire time?!"

"Well... It's just not as good as Pepsi. It's not the same. I'm sorry... but I've always felt this way."

"Since fucking when?! When did things change?" Bakugou slapped a hand over his eyes. "What the hell did I miss?!"

Bakugou couldn't believe this. He thought he knew you better than anyone, just like how you knew him better than anyone. You two were the tightest couple ever. Bakugou had an engagement ring hidden in his dresser because he had already long since decided that what he wanted in life was you.

But now, he didn't feel like he knew you at all.

He'd still marry you though.

You remained silent. Bakugou couldn't stand it. He shook his head, then walked back to the front door, opening it. He stopped before he left, turning to you.

"Coca-Cola is better than Pepsi. That's just a fact."

Then he turned, and left. Instant regret washed over him, but he continued down to the front lobby. As Bakugou looked down upon his cursed shopping list, he couldn't in good conscious buy Coca-Cola anymore. Not when you hated it so much. He had to make things right.

He was getting Dr. Pepper instead.

"This is fucking disgusting, Katsuki," you said, halfway through your delicious can of Dr. Pepper at your dinner table.

"It was on sale, alright?!"

(I've read that a lot of people are unsatisfied with grovels in romance novels because they don't feel that the love interest apologizes well enough, so I wrote this just in case anybody needs one good quick grovel with none of the baggage attached. Btw, my favorite is Coke and it's not even close)

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xjulixred45x · 1 year ago

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OKAY MY LAST INVINCIBLE POST BEFORE DEDICATING TO REQUESTS FOR THE REST OF THE MONTH DON'T KILL ME! THIS TIME IT'S FLUFF!

Mark Grayson/Invincible x Starfire!Reader

Imagine being an alien similar to DC's Starfire, you can follow the original line of the character (I follow more than anything the one from the comics or the 2003 series) where your planet was conquered by another race (thanks to your sister) Or you can go the more "family friendly" line, which is that you decided to explore the world outside your home planet but ended up in the hands of some kind of intergalactic trafficking network.

I imagine that if it is the first case, it is most likely that your race has been conquered by the Viltrumite themselves, which caused a MASSACRE to occur from which you and your sister were miraculously able to escape.

Regardless of what you choose, you ended up on Earth, although having gone through great traumatic events, so when you see this new world, with a strange species, you begin to attack by mere instinct (like what Starfire did in the first chapter of Teen Titans)

That's when Mark or rather INVINCIBLE appears.

He tries to fight you at first, get you away from the civilians, that is until he realizes how scared you are (especially if we're talking about the case of the Viltrumite invasion and you realize that Mark IS a Viltrumite). So he tries to change his strategy and try to calm you down as much as he can.

When he succeeds, he ends up taking you to the Globe's guardians to see what to do. I imagine that you are a little different than the original Starfire, you are more scared and defensive in this situation, at first you only trusted Mark.

For this reason, Cecil decides that you will stay in the Pentagon until they know what to do with you. Mark helps you learn the "normal" things of the Earth and show Cecil that you are not a threat.

(if you had to learn the human language by "lip contact" the whole team definitely makes fun of Mark a little for being in love now).

Imagine Mark and Eve bringing you clothes to try on!🥺Eve probably just created it out of nowhere, but she also brings clothes that her parents give her that she doesn't want and for some reason you like.

Mark offers to help you train! At first he tries to go easy on you, but when you almost knock him out with your laser beams, he learns his lesson.

He definitely takes you out to eat junk food! More when he realizes that the Pentagon's food doesn't help you much because of your big appetite. Mark was surprised at how much food you could eat but luckily Cecil pays for it (just don't tell him yet🤫)

Definitely one of Mark's favorite things about you, when you're over the trauma, is your innocent attitude, even after all, you're very bubbly and friendly. which is at least difficult to find in your line of work, so he wants to keep that part of yourself as much as possible.

Mark definitely took you to meet his mother, at first he was a little nervous that she wouldn't accept you after what happened with his father, but surprisingly Debbie took it very well.

Thanks to this you were able to learn more about the culture of the Earth, you constantly asked Debbie about the places she had seen, what they were like and their culture (even some anecdotes about Mark when he was a child), and with your bubbly and youthful attitude she did not It was difficult for Debbie to warm to you easily.

Apart from that it helped you fall in love with the Earth quite quickly, see its beauty for yourself, which encouraged you to be your own version of a hero.

When you want to become a heroine, Mark enters into an internal conflict. On the one hand, he KNOWS very well that you don't want someone to make decisions for you, he respects that, but on the other hand, he is TERRIFIED by the possibility that you will get hurt, captured, or lose COMPLETLY your being or worse, DIE.

It is probably thanks to this conversation that you two become a couple.

In general, at first Mark tries to do your first patrols with you to teach you the basics, then he lets you do whatever you want, and he is SO PROUD when you beat someone.

"THAT IS MY GIRL!" kind of proud.

He definitely really likes flying with you and just wandering, at least he feels like there you two have more privacy. Apart from that he likes how you look in your element. according to him.

If you talk about the first case of origin that I mentioned at the beginning and your sister comes back, Mark sees through ALL the red flags and will be the first to warn you about her, since he went through something similar with his family, you don't want to go through that.

If both fight together, POWER COUPLE. LITERAL. You have certain skills that Mark doesn't, so they complement each other very well.

If Mark gets hurt, you go into RAMPAGE MODE and honestly? Mark doesn't know if he should be scared or more in love. or excited.

If YOU get hurt GOD HELP US, MARK IS ANGRY---someone is going to have a bad time. And You a Lot of cuddles.

Overall, both of them are like two Golden Retrievers being happy together.

@clemberryfriends

Shares, reblogs, and comments are very welcome

#invincible #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson #invincible imagine #imagine invincible #drabble #fem reader #invincible season 2 #invincible show #invincible series #invincible spoilers

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tgcg · 10 months ago

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this is my element (+ album)

asking me to pick my fave album is like asking an orphan matron to pick her favorite baby boy

thats some weird and cruel circumstances to put upon me i feel like it changes every damn week like a rota

i mean what if my beats misbehave and i gotta put 'em in time out i cant play permanent on that theyre too cute

but yknow what i can show you one thing thats been on my mind lately

===

so when i was a kid we had this skateboard vid by "element skateboards" on DVD

they were this skateboard kit slash apparel company that was all about progressivism and shit and they did these much lauded comp tapes of dudes riding around on their boards and doing the dopest of macho tricks on the shit

flipping it turnways

putting the rock in the house like a big man

we had some of their merch actually

===

so anyways the one we had back then was This Is My Element

released 2007

mostly clips from cali i think and i mean the camerawork is fucking insane on some of those shots

this is gonna sound lame as fuck but i prob spent so many cumulative hours just peelin through the footage and ogling the shit outta it

that framing was tight

===

so you may be asking yourself or me

dave you genuine dicksucker i asked about your fav album not your favorite sordid ass display of smooth dudes hardcore riding and grinding them boards in public dude you have a problem

ok well that wasnt a question first of all so jot that down

but anyways to THAT i say

listen to the music

the whole thing has an original soundtrack of ambient beats

got some abstract hip hop jams, got some more indie stuff, lots of acoustic sampling

HELLA underground

and basically every track minus one is done by sampler beast david p. madson AKA "odd nosdam"

dude is my hero seriously

he is the master of the beat machine i shit you not hes always been kinda my idol on this stuff

aside from bro obviously

===

obviously.

===

anyways he had an E-mu SP-1200 which is a really oldschool sampler invented by dave rossum in the late 80s

revolutionary to the hip hop scene

nosdam had this mega distinct sound to his music that i always wanted to replicate on my own beats

still do

i dont know for sure if he used it on T.I.M.E. but he uses some of the same samples from "vol. 9" which was exclusively SP-1200 so im gonna get a lil j’accuzi on that

it couldve been a boss dr sampler SP-202 though idk

he had one of those

===

so aside from beating the shit out of the pause/resume button to flip my whole cranium at the cinematography or whatever i would also kinda play it on loop to listen to the soundtrack and space out at 2am

the lonely broner seemed to free his mind at night

ok shit broner is good but i didnt mean it like that

that was goofy lets just keep movin

it was the only way i had to listen to it back then but i mean the video is 50 mins long so its basically just an odd nosdam album with accompanying ambient skater sounds and random expletives and whatever

random car sequence

yknow what i dont think people respect enough?

the dude who catches all the "mad stunts yo" on camera

i swear to god at least half the time hes ALSO on a board and that shit is bananas to me

bros gotta be on some whole other level of zen to skate good AND catch all them glamor shots of his fellow skater

thats like an express ticket to the ER imo

the ambulance is already on the scene watching you like an eager crow watches a half dead dog

===

ok gonna go ahead and lay it out flat

not great on a board myself

kinda dogshit at it actually

so maybe im not exactly an arbitrator of skateboard heinousness

but i always kinda liked watching THEM do it i mean who doesnt?

whats an even crazier layer to stack on the "dave" cake is

and dirk told me this because unfortunately it kinda happened post-2009

he would do all these collabs with one of my childhood favorite underground rappers david cohn aka serengeti

surrounded by daves left and right dude even before all the time travel horseshit

thats like

serendipitous as fuck i think!

===

if sburb was just a revolving door of artists called dave that i could bump fists with

instead of other mes in various states of aliveness tending toward extremely dead

i wouldve probably given it something higher than 2 stars on my TGN review

===

so yeah you ask me my favorite album its T.I.M.E. by odd nosdam i guess

bump that shit on a walk your mind will go places unknown to man

#dave strider #homestuck #comix #this is my element #the way i drew dave posing here is rly heavily inspired by askinsufferableprick btw #welcome to strider infodump hours

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amnestria-the-elf · 4 months ago

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So we're all just supposed to be fucking grateful that Larian gave us "new Wyll content" (evil ending for a man who is canonically incorruptible, what the fuck) and simultaneously broke him again (giving low approval greetings to a romanced PC, what the fuck).

I... I just... the simultaneous feelings of rage and utter hopelessness are overwhelming.

Listen, if you've read any of my posts you know I have a pretty clear "Don't yuck anyone's yum" policy. If you think an evil Wyll ending is interesting, fine. But here's why it falls flat for me.

First, like I said above, Wyll is canonically incorruptible. It's literally the entire basis of his character. He is a man who was coerced into making an infernal contract to save a city and had to pay a horrible price for doing so, then spent seven fucking years alone in the wilderness doing his damned best to protect the people of the Sword Coast, while all along telling his horrible, abusive patron to just fuck off already.

Now, could you argue that during the events of the game, Wyll develops a taste for evil? Sure. There are plenty of opportunities for his villain origin story to unfold. But they never do. His moral compass never wavers. Turned into a devil? He feels shame, because it's an outward sign that he was doing things for Mizora that were morally wrong, and he didn't see it before. His approval rating for the PC shoots through the roof if you save Karlach, a sure indicator of his true moral compass. His father kidnapped? Fuck that noise, we're gonna save him. Rescue Zariel's "asset"? Ugh, fine, but don't get distracted from the real reason we're here. His father gets tadpoled? Oh hells no, we're gonna take down these assholes and save the godsdamned world. His father accuses him of being an agent of a devil and is super pissy about it? "Everything I did, I did for the people of the Sword Coast."

For fuck's sake, he will leave the party if the PC gets too evil, even knowing it means he'll probably turn into a mindflayer immediately. Even if he's romancing the PC. Unwavering moral compass. So giving him an evil ending without also going back and changing everything about his character just feels like lazy writing to me.

Which brings me to the second reason all of this rubs the wrong way. Wyll deserves so much more content. More romanced greetings, more reactions to other characters' choices, a final boss battle that is actually about him, a default ending that actually makes fucking sense (I have another post cooking about the Avernus ending, so I will leave it for now.)

And please, spare me your "But Wyll was rewritten after early access" bullshit. That's Larian's problem. They chose to listen to feedback and do a late-stage rewrite. They then chose to implement it poorly and never fucking fix it. Other characters, who already have far more content than Wyll, have had even more added over the course of the seven released patches. Wyll, on the other hand, has been sitting around completely ignored until now when we get this evil ending.

Many have rightfully pointed out the inherent racism steeped in all of this. I want Larian to be better. But as Maya Angelou said, "When someone shows you who they are, believe them." I already didn't have much hope about Patch 7 for Wyll, but this... honestly, this is worse than him just being ignored again.

The thing that kills me the most is that this is just going to be more fodder for the fandom to completely mischaracterize Wyll, for those who already haven't bothered to think critically about his character at all to just be like, oh, cool, Wyll is evil now. Nope. You've completely missed the point.

I'm just... so tired. I've worked very hard to put this little bubble of Wyll enthusiasts around me (hi friends I love you all!) so that I can hold on to some shred of sanity in this fandom. The world needs heroes of color. Just let Wyll be the hero in peace.

#larian critical #patch 7 #wyll ravengard

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picturejasper20 · 1 year ago

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Steven Universe as a character is someone who has been mischaracterized and flanderized over the years, to the point people who aren't into the fandom or haven't watched the show believe that mischaracterization to be a fact rather that a product that comes from memes and jokes

The truth is that Steven often fights in the series when it is needed, usually by fusing with someone else like Connie or Amethyst since he is still developing his powers in the original series. He doesn't cry when he has to fight back or defend himself, with exception if the person attacking is someone he considers a friend. Because, yes, for a 14-15 old teenager it isn't fun having to do something like that and it can be traumatic.

He also doesn't start to cry the moment someone refuses to change their mind or is being mean. He often isn't afraid to be sarcastic or call that person out. He didn't cry when Aquamarine mocked him in ¨Stuck Together¨ nor when Jasper didn't apologize for poofing Amethyst in ¨Crack the Whip¨

However, what we see is sometimes him blaming himself for not being able to help people that, more often than not, have been hurt by Rose Quartz, his mother, in some way. After Season 3, Steven fears a lot that he is going to become like Rose and he is going to hurt people the way like she did.

In general Steven deals with an Atlas complex in the show. He feels like he has to fix his mother mistakes and deal with ¨what she left behind¨ even when Rose wanted for him to be his own person as seen in the tape she left for him as it was revealed in the episode ¨Lion 4: The Alternate Ending¨.

Steven also defines his identity a lot for being to help other people and fix their problems. He believes that he has to be ¨useful¨ for others. So when he believes that he failed to help someone, that may lead him to think that he isn't living up to his ¨purpose¨ or that he is a failure as a person.

In reality, he isn't that much different from other hero protagonists from other animated shows. Those who are kind and emphatic and willing to listen to other people and give them a second chance if the person changes their ways. You probably like an animated show that has a protagonist like this. (Who was probably taken inspiration from Steven if the series came out after SU).

The main difference, i think, is that Steven goes a bit more than those protagonists do when it comes to listening to other people, understand their motivations and give them another chance if they regret their actions. A lot has to do with how he is aware that his enemies (usually gems) act the way the do because of the system they were born into rather ¨they are evil just because¨. He gets that their motivations come from the system that hurt them or lead them to believe that their actions are justified.

Another common mischaracterization is that Steven becomes super buddies with every person he helps...when this isn't always the case. There are some occasions that Steven shows discomfort around people who he has given a second chance. Just because he gives them a second chance doesn't mean that he immediately considers them close friends, maybe allies at best.

A good example of this is the gif above of Steven's interactions with White Diamond in ¨Homeworld Bound¨. White Diamond touches Steven very close to where his gem is- which makes Steven distressed since in his battle again White, she ripped his gem out to prove that Pink was still ¨alive¨. In most of the episode Steven shows to be very uncomfortable around the Diamonds and Spinel, to some extent. They bring him bad memories, which is the main reason he has been doing everything to avoid going to them to ask for their help until this point in Steven Universe Future. He even almost accidentally hurts White's gem by smashing her head against a pillar when she lets him control her to talk to himself. This being result of a intrusive ¨vengeful¨ thought.

I wouldn't say that Steven hates the Diamonds,but- he doesn't want to be their friend neither and wants to avoid in general because he feels nervous and bad around them. It's something like ¨I'm glad that you are changing but i don't want to be associated with you. Please, i would appreciate if you kept your distance from me.¨ dynamic.

On last point, Steven is someone who usually pushes his feelings down in certain situations and buries them down, which has led him to have strong emotional outbursts in bad moments. He usually prefers to ignore his own problems and take priority on others. Again, this comes a lot from his desire to be useful and be needed, making him trying to ignore how he feels about certain people and pretend that he is doing fine.

This explains why we don't see him lash out that much to others in the original series, and, why he feels so frustrated and angry in Future, since all that anger and negative feelings can't no longer be ignored as they used to and they are having a negative impact in Steven's mental health. This, of course, isn't meant to be seen is a healthy coping mechanism. It is in fact potrayed as something pretty self-destructive for Steven, as a huge flaw of his, that over time he comes to learn that it isn't the best way for him to deal with his problems.

These are some of the most common misconceptions i have seen about Steven's character online. I could go in more depth with some of them but i think the points should be clear enough. This could be considered a general analysis of how Steven is as a character and how he operates, leaving aside more specific things that can be covered in other posts.

#steven universe #steven quartz universe #steven universe future #rose quartz #su analysis

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flamingpudding · 8 months ago

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I'm so sorry I didn't get to finish but as Dan's Teekl is a Phoenix snake and he takes after Vlad since of dressing

When something big is going on the magical world and they need King Phantom's help he decides to bring along his children this is how the Justice League finds out just like Robin is a past dumb title so is Klarion all the Justice League deal with a bunch of hyper up chaotic children who have been antiheroes let's find out

I wanted this to be just like a we are robbing thing except with Clarion all of them showing off the fact that Teekl have never been a cat would be so funny to me

Anywho I haven't been able to come up with anymore ideas for Dan is Klarion but I did come out with this one hope you find it funny sorry that I messed up on the first part of the writing

Okay... so version one got deleted, per my rant post notices... so here is version two hopes to that it will still be as good... also... i didn't remember how I ended this the first time soooooo yea... sorry again for having messed up in between...

[Link to the first part of the Ask here!]

I hope this will still be as enjoyable....

------------------

Vlad didn't regret a lot of things but he regretted having told Bruce Wayne that he had a way of summoning the Ghost King. Why you ask? Because Bruce Wayne apparently leaked that information to the Justice League.

Well originally Vlad had told Bruce only about this because he was after the deal he had wanted for years with Wayne Enterprise. That man had been able to avoid Vlad for years now, and during his years when he hadn't been a redeemed man it had infuriated him.

But he was a redeemed man now. He had reformed his entire Company and since Wayne Enterprise was contracted with the Justice League, he had felt it was appropriate to boost that his Company had valuable connections too.

He also just wanted to rub it into Brucie Waynes face that he wasn't the only one with big name Hero / other worldly connections department. Okay it might have been a bit of an ego thing left. But he was a redeemed man.

And because he was a redeemed man he had not used his ghost powers to throw Batman out of the window the hero had used to barge into his hotel room at 3 -goddamn- AM only to demand the method on how to summon the ghost king.

No sir, Vlad was a redeemed man, he was nice now, a good guy.

He only grumbled and demanded the reason, which apparently was a demonic thread to the magical world that indirectly could wipe out the entire world itself. Great, little badger will not be amused hearing about that.

Daniel would be cross with him for using the summoning stone in the middle of the night but Batman was giving him a valid reason to use it. Surely Daniel would understand right? Plus Vlad could use that as change to see the little badger again. It had been a while since he last saw him.

Well Vlad regretted agreeing with Batman with the condition that he would be the one to do the summoning. That man in a bat suit did not hesitate to drag Vlad with him then bringing him, blindfolded mind you, to a place where he then was faced with several heroes, including but not limited to the Justice league.

Just great.

At least Vlad got to inform Danial about the situation and the reason for his summon as Ghost King via summoning stone, even if that blond British man had scoffed when he saw Vlad pulling it out, about the situation and what the little badger could expect the moment he stepped out of a portal.

What Vlad did not expect were several RED portals opening and similarly dressed young adults as well as one teen stepping out of them.

"Sup old man! Mom told us you called him about some world ending problem!" Dan greeted him in his Klarion get up, perfectly styled hair and his ghost pet, a phoenix snake, Snape (yes Dan named his pet after a mage from a wizard movie series) on his shoulders. Vlad could feel the distinctive illusion magic around the pet and he was pretty sure everyone without ghost powers were not able to see through it.

"KLARION?!" One of the present heroes yelled.

And of course all of the kids had to answer in reflect turning to where the voice came from at the same time.

"Yea"

There was a brief moment of silence in which Vlad face palmed.

"Ah sorry, that was on reflex. Old habits die hard!" Ellie laughed, she had grown into a young woman and was currently wearing what looked like a black suit crossed with a 90s style witch dress.

"I am the current Klarion, lose that fucking habit already." Dan grumbled annoyed as he crossed his arms glaring at every sibling that had answered to his alias.

"I am telling mom you cussed." Ellie instead grinned instead, before she looked around for a moment before her eyes landed on Nightwing, her face instantly lighting up. "ROBIN! I mean Nightwing! I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Do I know you?" Vlad could feel sorry for the hero, but these where the phantom kids, so he wasn't in the slightest and he was still cross with he heroes for waking him up at 3AM!

"I am hurt! Don't you recognise me!" Ellie gasped and Dan unashamedly elbowed her for acting so familiar.

"Misrule." He warned her. Ellies current Anti-Hero -Chaos Agent- Alias Vlad remembered. A name she specifically chose because it sounded like Miss Rule and she knew that the word play would annoy Nabu. That girl had some serious beef with the Ancient of Order.

"Oh shush little brother! Let me reconnect with the kids I used to mess with!" She shushed Dan ruffling his hair and nearly messing up his horned hairstyle, before turning back to Nightwing. "Don't you remember my lovely Armadillos? Though I only know you were the Robin I first meet because I looked into Grandpa Clock's time mirrors..."

There was a brief moment of silence on the other side where the heroes stood and Vlad swore he could have heard a pin needle drop.

"Oh god..." One of them finally spoke up as apparently some kind of realisation sunk into the heroes. But before Ellie could add anything more the one Vlad recognised as Red Robin cut in.

"Klarion is like Robin!"

"RR what are you...?"

"The title of Klarion got passed down like Robin!"

There was another brief moment of silence before Dan, Ellie and the rest of their siblings burst out laughing.

"It took you idiots this long to see that?!" Dan called them out, laughing as he hugged Snape.

Vlad would probably feel sorry for the entirety of the heroes before him if he wasn't amused by this himself, even he had seen the differences whenever 'Klarion' got passed on.

"For your information, I was the first Klarion, so i could mess with Nabu." Ellie grinned. "I was also the one that used a bit to much eyeliner."

"I never got the the horned hairstyle right."

"I was the one with a fancy black suit."

One by one the phantom kids listed of all the differences in their versions of Klarion until they all looked towards the youngest Dan, the current Klarion.

"What?" He grumbled as his elder siblings grinned at him.

"Fucking fine. I use a suit similar to the old man's style and I like to do more than just mess with Nabitch." He muttered after enduring his siblings stares for.

"And you cuss." Ellie grinned brightly causing the rest of the siblings to to chuckle.

Vlad recognised the look in Dan's eyes and before the kids could break out into an argument or a brawl, depending how violent Dan was feeling, he coughed loudly to get noticed by everyone.

"World threatening situation." He reminded everyone. "Where is your mother? The Ghost King?"

"Oh Mom is already dealing with the situation." Dan shrugged. "We more or less came to watch and see the heroes suck and fail at 'Order' to rub it into Nabitch's face."

Vlad really wanted to scowl the kids and he was going to but then the heroes cut in again.

"Can we get back to the thing about Klarion being a title passed down like Robin? With how many different Klarions did we have to deal with over the years!?"

"Red Robin not the right time..."

"Yes the right time! So many comments from Klarion make sense now! Like the first time he went right up into my face!"

"Red Robin!"

"Oh that was still me! The first Klarion!"

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