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finniestoncrane · 2 years ago

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Indulgences

BTAA!Scarecrow x Female!Reader, word count: 4k commission: jonathan crane and secretary!reader give in to their mutual desires, which reader needs to be encouraged to partake in 🎃🧡 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: daddy kink, oral sex, rough sex, persistent behaviour

At least I don’t have to walk through any alleys. At least I get to stick to the busier streets, the nicer neighbourhoods. There’s an artisanal coffee shop on the way, not many people can say that. It’s fine, this is luck. You’re lucky to have this job. You’re lucky to have any job, really. But this one is perfect. It’s fine. You can do it. He doesn’t have any power over you. He’s your employer. He’s your boss. Yeah, he’s Jonathan Crane, but that doesn’t automatically give him a one-up. He likes you just as much as… it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you will not give in to this temptation.

Each morning, as you took the short trip to work from your apartment, you had to give yourself a pep talk. A reminder that this was worth it, in the long run. That you would be foolish, and quite frankly almost ignorant, to give up the comfort you managed to find, in Gotham of all places, because of some uncontrolled emotions. You had a job that provided enough money for you to afford a nice apartment in a nice area, that challenged you, but not too much, and brought you a genuine sense of value and worth. But it did mean you were exposed, almost daily, to the difficult charms of Jonathan Crane.

Working with Jonathan was a blessing and a curse. The security of employment with a reputable, at least society facing, psychologist was something that was rare in Gotham. Add to that the element of safety in being employed by one of the city’s more venerable and amicable villains, there was limited risk of being caught in the crossfire, unlike the employees of Sionis or Cobblepot. And he clearly trusted you, as he hadn’t been shy in telling you of his criminal escapades, his alter ego as The Scarecrow. In fact, you’d only been working with him for a month before he took you into his office and revealed the secret.

You supposed for someone like Jonathan, if he’d sensed even the slightest hint that you might not be one to trust, he would just have you killed. You’d thought as much at the time, as you stood, heart racing, swallowing your fear in your closed throat, sweat beading on your forehead. But the fear you had shown, it seemed to comfort him. Very on brand for that strange, yet deeply interesting, man.

Realising how silly you sounded, as you tried to quantify all of the thoughts in your mind, you stopped on the street corner across from the building which housed his office. You liked him. You really liked him. But it felt like a risk, or a mistake. Something about it seemed to suggest to you that it would only end in tears, or worse, in your demise. And it was this contradiction, this predicament, which made it so difficult for you to show up to work each day. Only worsened by the fact that you had begun to suspect that Jonathan had similar feelings for you.

He had always been flirtatious, part of his charm you guessed. He was like that with everyone. Little jokes, a lingering touch on the arm or the lower back. He’d frighten people, speaking soft and low, making them get closer to him before giving them a little jolt of fear. It usually had them giggling, sweating, confused. On several occasions he’d pointed that out to you, the line between fear and arousal. It all had to do with adrenaline, he’d say. And he was very right about that.

As you entered the office, you took your place at the desk in the waiting room. Checking the calendar, you realised it would be another two hours before the first patient arrived for their appointment. That gave you plenty of time to get comfortable and settled. But just as you began to repeat your affirmations, taking your slow, long breaths in a bid to calm your body, Jonathan entered.

“Ah, you’ve here. Always there to brighten my morning, huh?”

“Jonathan, lovely to see you. I’ve left coffee on your desk.”

“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest. Why don’t you come in and join me?”

“Is that… mandatory? Or work-related?”

Jonathan offered you a wry smile as he looked you up and down, scrutinising you.

“Would that make a difference? C’mon, we’re all friends here, right?”

You swallowed your nerves at his wink, trying to maintain your composure, the control you still had over the situation.

“I suspect that this might be more than a friendly discussion, Crane.”

“Oh! I do love it when you’re feisty in the morning.”

He walked into his office, still speaking to you.

“If you feel like joining me, make sure to bring that snarky attitude with you. Drives me crazy.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, picking up a pen and twirling it as you absent-mindedly stared at the wall in front of you. With an irritated mumble, you got up form your desk and followed Jonathan into his office, standing against the closed door and staring at him with your arms folded.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“I’m here now, what do you want with me?”

Jonathan let out a dry chuckle, as his pupils widened, staring at you from his desk.

“Oh, bit of a dangerous question, don’t you think? I could do a lot of psychoanalysing on that. The phrasing, the way you’re standing, the words you chose, the slight implied innuendo despite your obvious attempts to seem uninterested. All of it, very telling indeed.”

“Do you think so?”

“I know so. Why don’t you take a seat?”

“I’d rather stand, thanks.”

“A contrarian, through and through.”

“I’m really not.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, smiling wide as you proved his point. It infuriated you to no end that despite as hard as you tried to gain the upper-hand, he was always one-step above you.

“Fine, I’ll take a seat.”

You chose the softer of the two armchairs that faced his desk, avoiding eye contact with him until it was impossible to ignore the silence any longer. When you looked up to him, he caught your eyes, staring into them intensely. His stare held you, it was almost hypnotic. He was a commanding presence in your life, and you hated that as much as you enjoyed it. In moments like these it was difficult not to give in to your temptations. To succumb to the harmless but persistent flirting. To accept that you had a crush. Maybe get it out of your system even. But you sensed that someone like Jonathan Crane wasn’t up for being quickly used and discarded. He had to conquer his love interests, and you were determined not to let that be the case, despite how he made your heart beat faster and your body tremble with just a few innocent enough words.

From the drawer on his side of the desk, Jonathan produced a folder marked confidential, with your name on a label on the top right hand corner. He thumbed through the pages in silence as you sat nervously. You wondered what it could be. A dossier of reasons that he wanted to kill you? Or reasons he wanted to sleep with you? It could have been anything with him, and the anticipation only served to help you conjure up more fanatical and nerve-wracking theories.

Reading from the pages, he made an occasional soft noise, a small ‘hm’ or an ‘ah’ as he took in the information. Eventually, you grew more irritated than you were nervous, and coughed, clearing your throat obviously in the hopes that he would get whatever he intended to do over with.

Without looking to you, eyes remaining on the pages as he scanned them from top to bottom, reading whatever words were so intensely interesting to him, he finally.

“So… would you like a performance review?”

“A... a performance review? Are you kidding me?”

“No, why would I be?”

“That’s what you called me in here for?”

Jon smiled wryly as he peered over the top of the folder he held in his hands.

“Partly. I thought it would be a good idea to kill two birds with one stone. I love that phrase, don’t you? Such violent imagery. It conjures up such a guttural feeling. So… connected to our ancestry, and yet the convenience of modern life is hinted at to-”

“Jonathan. I have a job to do.”

“Uh-huh, and who provides you with that employment?”

Leaning back in your chair in slight disbelief, you narrowed your eyes at him as you spoke.

“Are you threatening me, Mister Crane?”

“Not at all, sugar. I’m simply… reinforcing the status quo here. The hierarchy. The way that our… relationship works. You’re my employee, after all. And I’m your boss, correct?”

With a scrutinising glance you tried to figure out what he was getting at, but couldn’t make it past his cool exterior.

“As technical as you can get, yes.”

“And yet, we’re also friends, are we not?”

“I suppose so.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, feeling deeply complimented by the suggestion.

“You’re my employee, and my friend. But perhaps… maybe… I would like you to be a little more than that.”

“More…?”

“Oh, come on. As if you can’t see it, as if you don’t want the same things I do. As if we aren’t already something a little bit more than that.”

Trying to contain your smile, you feigned innocence, or ignorance, and looked up and to the right, as though you were trying to think of what he might be suggesting.

“Listen… we flirt. Constantly. I can see it, you can see it. Everyone can see it. I have clients who are so unaware that they don’t even recognise their mother is to blame for their issues, and even they can see it.”

“You talk about me with clients?”

“That’s besides the point. Look. We work great together.”

“Yes, in the same office.”

“Not like that, you know what I mean. You and I, we gel. We get on, we have a connection. I think we’d make an excellent pair, don’t you?”

Jonathan had stood up from his seat as he spoke, walking around the desk and stopping in front of it, where he leaned in repose on the surface when he had finished his argument in the little debate you two were caught up in.

“I want people to see us together, more obviously than they do now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want them to see you with me. I want them to know who you’re with.”

You kept your face still, not wanting to give anything away, but desperately wanting to scream at the concept he was offering you. You didn’t want to be owned by Jonathan, you didn’t want to make a big thing out of whatever you two might have. It seemed that he wanted the opposite though, and admittedly, his determination to have you, to possess you, like a trophy he could show off, was deeply intriguing and more than a little arousing.

“In a sense that…”

“In a sense that they wouldn’t dare try anything with you, because they knew who you belonged to.”

Trying to maintain your air of composure, your dignity in the face of potential ownership, you tilted your head and stared him down with an unamused look.

“Belonged to? So I not only work for you, but I’d be your property too? Sounds… unpleasant actually, Jon.”

He stood up from the desk and moved closer to you, his stance commanding, charisma oozing from his very being, his voice trance-like as he spoke to you so directly and convincingly.

“Come on now. We’re both intelligent people. We both know what’s going on here, what’s going on between us. It would be so easy to just admit it and let it happen. I don’t have a human resources department, so there’s no one to get on our case. What is it that you’re so worried about? What makes you so hesitant?”

He had answered his own question, really. Jonathan was so deeply, intensely interested in you, in everyone. He could learn more about you from the way you lifted a coffee cup than most people could in a decade of spending time with you. You could only imagine what information he might glean from fucking you. And then where would you be? You’d be employed by a psychotic psychiatrist who knew everything about you, that’s where. Only in Gotham.

“Just let go. Let yourself give in to pleasure. I promise, I’ll make it worth the risk of this little dalliance.”

His smug grin, pressed into his cheeks so firmly that it accentuated the wrinkles around his eyes had your chest heaving as you breathed heavily. You weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. It was tempting, so tempting. And though you were reluctant to give in to the feelings you held for him, it was deeply flattering, and very encouraging, to see him outwardly express those same desires.

It couldn’t possibly be as bad as I think it will be. I want this. I need this, I think. It’s gone beyond just a silly workplace crush, with witty remarks and back and forth flirtatious teasing. This is… something deeper now. And the longer I hold off, the worse it’s going to get. Perhaps it would be better to just get this out of my system. Do it now and get it over with. And then I’ll-

You were pulled out of your thoughts, ruminations and worries swirling at the forefront of your mind, by the feeling of Jonathan’s lips on yours, his hands holding your upper arms to keep you steady. The grip, forceful but deeply romantic, held within it the exact amount of passion, it turned out, to have you falling into him. Melting into the embrace, you wrapped your arms around his, feeling your leg beginning to snake up the back of his pants. He gripped it, fingers digging into your thighs and bringing it higher, around his waist, as he stepped forward, pushing you, stumbling, back into the wall where he deepened the kiss.

Biting, licking, sucking at your lips, Jonathan moaned hungrily against you. You yelped as he bit a little too hard, and he pulled back quickly, soothing over your bottom lip with his thumb and offering an apologetic smile.

“I’ve wanted this for a while. You’ve held out on me. So I apologise if I’m a bit… rough.”

His eyes moved from yours and began mapping out your body, taking in every inch of you.

“It’s been very difficult to watch you, a free agent, outside of my will.”

You scoffed, but took a sharp inhale as he stared into your eyes again, smiling at you, wry and mischievous.

“You’re so dead set on not indulging me. Why is that?”

Trying to avoid his intense gaze, you turned your face, but with a soft motion he brought you back around with his palm on your cheek.

“Is it because you’re ashamed of how much you want that? It’s ok to want to be wanted. It’s completely normal to want to be owned. I should know, I’m a psychologist, remember.”

He let his fingers trace down your throat, following their trail with his tongue as he made his way down your front with kisses, planting them softly, his breath warm against you, as he got to his knees before you, resting his face against your abdomen as he ran his hands up and down your sides.

“Every curve.”

His hands pressed into you, grabbing and squeezing at your body, your waist, your hips. As he let them reach behind you, cupping your ass, you let out of a soft noise, which made him smile.

“Every moan.”

You giggled as he made his way back up your body, bringing his hands to your face, fingers skating over your lips, making you shiver at the touch.

“And indeed, every quiver. They belong to me. And only me. Understand?”

Completely entranced by the way he held you, you nodded slowly but with enthusiasm.

Smiling at you, a grin that made your blood run cold, he leaned in to whisper into your ear once more.

“Then would you kindly lay down on my desk, please. And remove all the clothes on your bottom half first.”

As you stepped past him, pulling at your clothes in a hurry to get them off, his palm caught your rear, smacking the cheek and bringing forth an amused yelp and giggle from you. It made your cheeks flush, the way you had reacted. You hated how much you liked it. And he could tell, as he watched you lean back on the desk, bottom half completely nude and exposed. Running his palms up your thighs, past your stomach and to your neck, he loosened a few of the buttons on your shirt and kissed at your neck again.

Distracted by his moans and ministrations against your sensitive skin, you hadn’t even noticed he had removed his own pants and underwear until he was pressing his cock inside of you. You moaned, letting your breath out in a slow exhale as you smiled, unable to stop yourself. It felt amazing, better than you could have imagined or hoped. And you’d spent a lot of time hoping and imagining, though you wouldn’t have admitted that to anyone, even under threat of Jonathan’s fear inducing drugs.

Jonathan, enthused and encouraged by your reaction to his cock twitching and throbbing within you, began to rock his hips, pressing himself into you further, picking up the pace and grunting with each movement. At the angle you sat at, legs hanging over the edge of the desk, perched on your rear alone, he gripped your hips, holding you steady so he could push up into you, hitting the right spots as he did so. Occasionally, past the panting and guttural groans, you could hear him laughing. He was so smug, so proud of himself. So happy to be claiming you. The thought drove you wild, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him even closer to you.

As Jonathan continued to fill you, pumping his substantial length inside of your cunt, pressing his tip as far as he could, he clutched at your back, holding you tight, close to him. In lustful desperation, you gripped his hair, drawing his mouth to your neck, begging him silently to ravish you, kiss you, bite you, suck you, whatever he was willing to do for you. And luckily, his participation extended to all three, as his teeth clenched softly on your neck, nipping at it before his tongue flitted over the stinging pain and soothed it, his lips enclosing around you, sucking at the sensitive skin.

“Ooh… Jonathan…”

“Sorry, was that too hard?”

The faux mocking tone sent a tingle down your spine, and you clung to him tighter out of instinct.

“Just… just a little bit…”

He leaned back for a second to offer you a sham pout followed by a cruel smirk.

“My most sincere apologies, I just wanted to make sure you were marked.”

Diving back into your neck, he bit harder this time, lips covering over the stinging pain in a smooth kiss.

“I can’t have any doubts as to who you belong to.”

His teeth marked your flesh, imprints of his bite pattern across your neck, soft ovals of burst blood vessels where had sucked on you, definitely leaving enough of a trace that it was impossible to deny that someone had claimed you. The notion of being entirely his was getting easier and easier to submit to with every passing second, and you could barely contain yourself. It didn’t surprise you at all when you started whispering to him, your own mouth ahead of your brain as you exposed your secrets and begged to be his.

“If you want me, Jonathan, then you can have me. Take me, fill me.”

With a struggled grunt he forced himself deeper, an action you would have thought impossible, and you could feel your abdomen tightening with the pressure of his cock buried so fully within you.

“I want you to make me yours, Jonathan. Mark me, inside and out.”

Jonathan’s breathing quickened, his pace getting faster and less steady as he rutted clumsily against you, hips jutting forth to meet yours as they rocked into his body. His grunting had been reduced to a whimper, almost a whine, as he clung to your skin, holding you as he used you, appreciated you.

“What do you want from me? Tell me. Don’t be shy.”

“I want you to cum inside of me. Paint my fucking insides, Jonathan. I want to be yours. Fill me, take me, just… please, god please don’t let me lose a single drop.”

With a guttural laugh and another quick bite at your collar bone, Jonathan’s body shuddered as he shifted you back and forth in time with his own thrusting, cock twitching as he felt himself coming undone. His seed spilled in thick, white ropes within your cunt, spent entirely within you and holding himself inside, pressed tight against you, to keep as much of him there as possible. He lingered for a few moments longer, enjoying the warmth, the possessiveness over you. His fingers tensed as they clung to your body. He didn’t want this moment to end, and neither did you.

Finally, pulling himself from within you with a low moan, he sat back down on his office chair, holding his slicked cock in his hands as he felt it softening, finally spent and relieved of the tension he had been holding back, that you both had been holding back. He panted slightly until he had caught his breath, his age showing in the way he braced himself, trying to recover from the shaking orgasm that had all but consumed him entirely.

“There… phew… no doubts now, huh?”

You were standing, trying to straighten your clothes out as best as you could, feeling his cum dribbling down your inner thigh and coating your panties. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, knowing you belonged to him, feeling like you were still marked as his territory, his possession, even after he was no longer holding you physically. You had to admit that it was divine, something you had craved before but never would have let yourself admit to.

“Doubts? About what?”

Jonathan leant his head back, groaning in mock frustration before he snapped back down, eyes focused on your body, his gaze drawing up over you and back down as he took you in, still flushed and sweating, marked by his teeth and his fingers.

“Oh, sugar. Don’t be obtuse. It’s no use, I know you’re a sharp girl.”

Playing up, just to irritate him, you stared blankly with a slight frown. You shrugged your shoulders lightly and shook your head a little.

“You wanted that. I wanted that. And I continue to want that. As, I expect, do you. I think we can both feel the tension around us, around the office. So let’s not beat around the bush here!”

He laughed as he spoke in a lilting cadence, trying to seem casual. But you could sense the desperation in his words. And you finally felt like you had the upper-hand.

“We’ll see, Jonathan.”

You walked towards the door, turning as you opened it and stepped back into the hallway.

“We’ll see.”

Leaving him alone in his office, you returned to your desk with a wide grin on your lips. Finally, you felt like you could let yourself indulge in your desires. But not before you teased Jonathan a little longer. He deserved it, after all. And you deserved to feel in control, after everything you put up with from him. A little bit of sweet and sour in your relationship wasn’t anything new, but the method in which it was employed, a change in pace and hierarchy, it made you feel excited to come into work tomorrow.

#finnie writes #batman #scarecrow #jonathan crane #scarecrow imagine #scarecrow smut #scarecrow x reader #rogues gallery #batman rogues #btaa scarecrow

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americasass81 · 1 year ago

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A Not So Chance Encounter

{Warnings:- 18+for the following - Brief Mentions of Pregnancy, Mental and Emotional Neglect, Oral, Use of Pet Names, Fingering, Teasing, Manipulation, Minor Stalking, Kidnapping and Possible Stockholm Syndrome, Minor Partner Smut at the end.}

Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason.

Pairing:- Bucky Barnes x reader

Author’s Note 1:- As only the second fic I ever wrote and posted, I have since learned so much about writing and have finally found the time to edit this and hopefully make it more inclusive.

Author’s Note 2:- The end result of this fic is a knight in shining armor Bucky. Hope everyone who reads this enjoys.

Author’s Note 3:- Thanks goes to @firefly-graphics for creating and giving me permission to use the included Bucky divider.

Run-Through:- Lurking in the shadows, a silent observer as life went on around you, you took your pleasure in quiet moments before slinking back to the safety of the reclusive world you were familiar with. Delighting in activities that allowed you to heal from your once turbulent life, little did you know that waiting for your meal in the farthest corner of a familiar restaurant would change your new life in ways you never expected.

Total Word Count:- 10,651

Stretching that Monday morning with the summer sun streaming through your bedroom window, you rose quickly and after a refreshing shower, began to prepare for the day ahead. Having gone through hell the past few months, well years really, today had been the one thing that kept you hanging on … your little oasis in the desert. Having spent most of your young life dealing with family issues and your own mental fragility, this day’s outing at the start of life in your new home was a balm to the turmoil wreaking havoc on your once miserable life.

Having spent a lifetime being mocked, ridiculed and treated like garbage by those who were supposed to love you unconditionally, you often wondered how you had managed to remain the functioning adult you saw every time you looked in the mirror. As it was, the whole of you seemed to be much stronger than the pieces they had tried to destroy with their bitterness and neglect and having finally managed to get away from your toxic family and the pain they had caused you, your one desire now was to rebuild your life and become the fun-loving, carefree individual you knew was hidden deep down beneath the years of silent suffering.

Hoping one day to be strong enough and happy enough to allow someone special to hold your heart and trust them with your hopes and dreams for the future, right now your plan was basically simple. Deciding on a month’s break where the only requirement was that you do whatever made you happy, your weekend had consisted of nothing more taxing than unboxing the bare essentials to get your home and body working in harmony. After that, you figured a little fun was in order before you faced the monumental task of unboxing your life and setting up a routine that kept you relaxed, happy and healthy.

Putting on some music while getting dressed, you checked your emails before heading downstairs to collect the morning post. Sorting through each piece and disposing of the rubbish accordingly, you then went about preparing your usual breakfast. Sitting down and enjoying the peace afforded by finally having a place to call your own, you took out your phone and booked your ticket for the movie you were dying to see as you ate your cereal. Once done, you rang your doctor to confirm your appointment before washing up your bowl and heading out.

Living so close to all the amenities necessary to live a comfortable life, the greatest treasure you always felt was the one that greeted you this day as you stepped outside. With a beautiful sun shining down on you, accompanied by a light breeze, you were able to set off walking at a leisurely pace to your first engagement of the day.

Your appointment with the doctor, though simply routine, was one you had been putting off until you were no longer allowed to. Not having a particular love of the medical profession, yet also not hating them, you simply had other things you’d rather be doing with your time while also not looking for problems that didn’t exist. After a brisk fifteen minute walk, you arrived at your destination, went through the now usual yearly routine and once getting a clean bill of health said your goodbyes and took your leave.

Walking out the door while looking at your watch, you realized that even with the distance between here and the movie theater you still had an hour and a half to kill which meant you had plenty of time for some quiet reflection at your favorite spot. Walking through its arched entrance ten minutes later, you found the place relatively empty while marveling as always at the beautiful wooden benches and medieval light fixtures scattered throughout this peaceful space.

Stopping by the plant area just to the left of the main entrance to purchase a plant for those who had no one to remember them, you then headed off towards the mini waterfall at the very back and kneeling down to add your flower to the many glorious blossoms already growing there, offered up a thanks to anyone listening for finally affording you the peace you had long been missing in young life. Staying in quiet reflection until it was once again time to move on, you exited this area through the back wall arch before heading through the local park which would bring you out directly in front of your main destination.

Though not your usual action flick, you felt like something light and the movie in question definitely qualified. Based around four senior women who held a book club every week for thirty years, hi-jinx and comedy is what was being offered and that is exactly what the stellar cast and refreshing script provided. Enjoying yourself more than you had in a long time, you left the theater almost two hours later feeling in high spirits and ready for a bite to eat.

Walking the short distance to a nearby hotel whose restaurant served some of your favorite meals at a reasonable price, you found your usual spot in a discreet corner and waited patiently for a staff member to arrive to take your order. Taking out your phone to do some reading to pass the time, you didn’t register how much time was slipping by without anyone coming to deal with you or that someone important had just entered the restaurant.

So engrossed were you in your own world that you failed to notice the commotion that was being stirred up all around you by the new arrival. This all changed quickly however, when a shadow fell across your table and you looked up to see a waiter standing before you empty handed. Saving your place in the book before setting your phone aside, nothing in the world could prepare you for the complete lack of professionalism that followed when the man before you opened his mouth.

“I’m sorry Ma'am, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We have a very important guest staying in the hotel who has just stopped by for a quiet meal and requires a table.” he said, before looking over in the direction of the newcomer who had just stopped talking to some child at a nearby table. Unable to tell much about who this V.I.P. was, you quickly looked back towards the waiter when he resumed speaking again.

“Though management is aware that you are a regular here, you are alone and since we are fully booked we are prepared to offer you a full complimentary meal here whenever it suits you, if you would just kindly and discreetly vacate this table today.” Then as if to drive home his request, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a gift token which he extended towards you. This gesture proved useless however when the stranger in question finally arrived, caught hold of the waiter’s arm and lowered it to his side before turning his icy gaze on you.

“Miss,” he said, looking you over while reaching out his hand to you. “My name is Bucky Barnes. If you’re not waiting for someone, would it be too bold of me to ask if I might join you?” he inquired as all eyes in the restaurant fell on your location. Knowing who you were dealing with, and thus all too aware of his reputation, you looked between the two men standing before you, before shyly nodding your acceptance.

Letting go of your hand and taking the seat opposite you, Bucky turned his disapproving glare on the waiter and took the gift token from him before speaking in a low tone that still showed it’s authority. “Perhaps since this young lady has yet to be served, you might be so kind as to order us two lamb dinners with your finest bottle of red wine.” Glancing over at you while the waiter wrote down the order, Bucky smiled slightly at your innocent and perplexed expression before continuing. "Then for dessert, you can bring us the cheesecake and put it on my bill.“

As the waiter walked away you finally found your voice, even if there was a slight tremor to it. "Thank you Mister Barnes, but you don’t have to pay for my meal.” This whole situation seemed unreal to you and despite trying to be upbeat, a lifetime of mental mistreatment, had left you with a serious case of trust issues.

“Nonsense,” he said, smiling across the table at you before continuing, “it’s the least I can do since this lot seem to be lacking basic manners, and please call me Bucky.”

“Well again, thank you Bucky.” you replied while trying to ignore the smile that graced his features at his name rolling off your lips, as well as the obvious stares from the people all around you. This time round it didn’t take long for your food and wine to arrive and though you tried to decline the drink, Bucky wasn’t having any of it. Slowly enjoying both the wonderful food and good company, you failed to notice the time slipping by or the fact that slowly but surely the restaurant had started to empty out.

You were enjoying yourself so much in fact, that by the time the waiter delivered the dessert, you had divulged your whole life story to Bucky while learning that he was relaxing here for two weeks after a mission before returning back to the Avengers Compound. You also had to admit, if only to yourself, that not being a frequent drinker, the wine, now almost two bottles, had kind of gone to your head. But perhaps, looking back, that was part of Bucky’s plan. Having finished up your food, you prepared to stand up so as to finally take your leave, only for Bucky to take your hand and apply some light pressure before speaking. "Any chance you’d consider hanging out and keeping me company? I don’t know anyone here and it seemed like we were having a nice time.“

Looking over at him as he laced his fingers with yours, you couldn’t understand the warm feeling traveling throughout your body and as your eyes locked with his you were shocked to find yourself giving in to his request. "Okay, I guess I can spare an extra hour or two. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, if you really are willing, maybe we could head out and walk off the meal.” he suggested while smiling over at you. Agreeing easily as he helped you with your coat, you headed towards the doors unaware of the possessive look that crossed Bucky’s face as he finished up his drink before catching up to you.

Slipping into place beside you and matching his stride to yours, you only made it from the hotel to the town plaza before Bucky had slipped your hand into his. Looking between your laced fingers and his gorgeous face, the noticeably raised eyebrow indicated that while he was expecting you to challenge him, he had no intention of letting go. This perception was further rammed home, when ten minutes later, as you entered the park, Bucky increased his hold as you tried to pull your hand away.

Stopping by a drink vendor just inside the park’s main gate, you became a bit more irritated when Bucky chose and paid for both your drinks before handing one to you. Then taking your hand again, he walked you further into the park until you reached the fountain in the center. Sitting you down on the bench opposite, you sipped your drink in silence until Bucky finally spoke. "You’ve become awfully quiet Y/N, is everything alright?“

Looking over at him while suspecting his intentions, you chose your words carefully before answering. "Sorry, I’m just not used to having someone paying for my food and drinks. Or … ”

“Holding your hand?” he interrupted questioningly. "You’ve never been with a guy, have you?“ he quickly added before you had a chance to answer. Looking straight ahead towards the fountain and focusing on the sound emanating from it, you tried to let the tranquility calm your nerves as Bucky continued. "It’s okay, you don’t have to answer. You also have nothing to be nervous about. I simply wanted to treat you.”

“But why and what about the hand holding?” you asked, tearing your gaze away from the fountain to finally look at him.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” he inquired, taking a sip from his own drink.

“I guess not. It’s just weird considering we only met about three hours ago.” you stated while hoping not to offend him, though you really couldn’t say why.

“I totally understand.” he said, reaching out to remove a small bug from your shoulder. "But I guess if I’m being honest, it’s the result of when I was brought up and all I’ve seen of this world. It seems with all the things this new time has given us, basic human decency is the price we’ve paid.“ Totally agreeing and foolishly relaxing at his words, in time you would look back on this fateful day and curse yourself for not listening to the voice in your head that screamed at you in this moment to run. As it was, you simply tried to relax and returned to your drink.

Enjoying some further walking, while answering any questions Bucky had about the area, you suddenly realized how late it had become when upon exiting the park, you were greeted with night time revelers and the glow of the street lights. Not sure how to extricate yourself from a famous Avenger and former Hydra assassin, this decision was taken out of your hands, when the Winter Soldier’s voice brought you back to the present time. "Would you allow me to walk you home or perhaps you could stay with me. Only for safety reasons, of course.” he quickly added, having seen the deer-in-headlights look that clouded your features.

No longer thrilled with spending time with James Buchanan Barnes, but damn sure you didn’t want him knowing where you lived, you grudgingly agreed to spending the night, while making plans to leave the next morning. Surprisingly chipper at your acquiescence, Bucky again took hold of your hand as both of you headed back towards his hotel. Once safely there in the confines of his rather spacious suite, Bucky seated you at the table while presenting the sandwiches and drinks that he had ordered upon entering the lobby.

Realizing how hungry you were, you graciously tucked into them while you tried not to think about the sleeping arrangements. Once the food was eaten and cleared away however, this task proved impossible when Bucky took your hand and led you towards the bedroom. Staring at the large opulent bed before you, all the ways things could go horribly wrong flashed before your eyes. So preoccupied was Bucky with closing, and though you failed to notice, locking the doors that you were the first to bring up the giant elephant in the room.

“Okay so I’m just gonna use the facilities and then settle down on the couch for the night. Hope you sleep well.” you added, heading for the bathroom. You were stopped in your tracks however when Bucky turned to face you and uttered the one word that sent a shiver down your spine.

“No.”

“I beg your pardon?” you asked, looking over at him as he walked towards the side of the bed.

“You’re sleeping in the bed. My Ma didn’t raise me to allow a lady to sleep on a couch. No matter how comfortable it looks.”

Smiling slightly at the reference to his mother and the obvious affection it seemed he still held for her, your mind quickly brought you back to the present problem. "That’s sweet, really. But let’s be honest, I’ll fit better on the couch than you and Avengers deserve to sleep in proper beds.“

Raising an eyebrow at your inference that his job made him somehow better than you, Bucky easily turned your argument on its head while throwing another curve ball your way. "Actually, unless at HQ, Avengers are used to bunking down wherever the opportunity presents itself. Besides there is the other option where we each take a side like two reasonable adults. What do you say?”

Looking at the huge bed once more and realizing that he probably wasn’t going to give up this particular idea, you still tried to think of a way out. "I guess we could. If you don’t mind me sleeping with my clothes on?“ you asked.

"Nonsense. Use your bra and panties. I promise to behave myself.” he smirked, hoping to put you at ease.

It had the opposite effect however and you couldn’t hide the embarrassment that crept through you at your next statement. “That’s a problem since I’m not wearing any.”

“Not wearing any what?” he inquired, though you suspected he knew exactly what you were referring to and simply wanted you to hear the words pass you lips.

“Bra and panties.” you replied tersely, looking everywhere but at him as you felt the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Oh not to worry doll, how about I supply you with a t-shirt and boxers to sleep in?” Shocked by both his suggestion and the use of a pet name, you thought through your options and deciding it was the most favorable choice, grudgingly agreed.

“Great.” he said, heading for his suitcase and returning to you with a royal blue top and black boxers. "Here you go,“ he added, handing you the garments before continuing, "now do you like to sleep on the left or the right?”

“I always sleep alone,” you foolishly admitted, “so it doesn’t really matter too much.”

Smiling broadly as both your hands held his clothes, he quickly and easily settled the situation. "Fine then, I’ll take the right side by the window, since I’m pretty much set up there anyway. That leaves you on the left side by the bathroom.“

"Cool.” you said, fully taking the clothes now and heading for said bathroom. "Do you mind if I go first?“ you asked, indicating what you were up to.

"Oh of course not. Ladies first.” he insisted, as you walked away and closed the door. Locking it quickly and quietly, you did what you needed to do while wondering how you had gotten yourself into whatever this situation was as well as contemplating how you were going to get out of it. Little did you know how hard this was going to be however with a world class assassin in the next room thrilled that something he always wanted was finally within his grasp.

Exiting the bathroom finally, you were stopped in your tracks by the sight of an almost naked James Buchanan Barnes standing before you in nothing but the same black boxers as you now wore. Gazing at the sculpted back in front of you, you were still standing staring at him when he turned around and acknowledged your presence. "Oh hey doll, you done in there?“ he asked while ignoring the fact that you had been very clearly checking him out.

"Wh-what?” you stammered, flustered that you had been caught all but ogling him.

Coming to stand in front of you, Bucky reached out and lifting your chin to look into your eyes, repeated his earlier question. "I asked if you were finished in the bathroom.“

"Sorry, of course. It’s all yours.” you stated as he released you and headed off to use the facilities. Trying to clear your head, you quickly headed towards the bed and burying yourself under the comforter, hoped to be asleep before Bucky came back.

Returning from the bathroom to find you snuggled in bed with your eyes closed, Bucky smiled to himself as he headed towards his side of the bed. Pulling back the covers and gazing down at your body wrapped in his clothes, he couldn’t hide the tightening in his boxers or the urge to turn you on your back and pound into you until you screamed his name for everyone in the hotel to hear. He fought the urge however, knowing that the first time he had you, it would be with your consent.

Laying down next to you, back to back, he smirked when your heartbeat betrayed you and told him sleep was so far evading you. Making sure to keep as respectful a distance between you that the bed would allow, Bucky settled himself in and waited patiently until your soft breathing and slower heartbeat indicated sleep had finally come calling. Then exiting the bed, he made a start on his plan to claim you.

Waking the next morning from one of the most restful sleeps you could ever remember having, all sense of peace went out the window once your body acknowledged the new position it found itself in. Resting comfortably against a warm, strong body, you somehow woke up on the opposite side of the bed with your head on Bucky’s flesh arm while his metal hand was resting on your pussy, having been shoved down your, or rather his, boxers. Wanting so badly to be out of this situation, but not wanting to wake the man who now held you in his grasp, you willed yourself to calm down. Fate however had other ideas.

Just as you tried to think of a possible way out, Bucky brought his lips to your ear and kissing just below it tenderly, whispered words of comfort to you. "Good morning Y/N, glad to see you slept well. How about you remain calm please, I promise you’re perfectly safe.“ he tried to reassure you though his words had little effect as your heart rate increased. Bringing his flesh hand around your front to rest on your breast, your squirming attempts to get away from him, only resulted in his holding you tighter until you felt something poking your ass, which caused you to stop completely.

"Oh come on doll, don’t stop now, things were just getting good.” he moaned as he squeezed down on your breast and pussy. Moaning yourself as he lazily pinched your nipple through his top, while running his metal fingers through your folds, you were both shocked and confused when he chuckled softly. "Guess who’s wet, Y/N? Tell me what you’d like me to do. How can I satisfy my girl, hmmm?“

"I’m not your girl, now please let me go so I may use the toilet.” you said forcefully while trying to fight the fear crawling around your insides. Kissing your neck some more as his fingers continued their dance, he grudgingly released you, before picking up the phone to order breakfast.

Heading to the bathroom, you hurriedly did what you needed to while you tried to figure out what someone like you had done to capture the attention of a world famous Avenger. Finally unable to quiet the thoughts running riot in your head, you headed back out to see what awaited you.

Stepping foot back in the bedroom, you were surprised to find Bucky simply sitting on the bed, looking at nothing in particular. Approaching him cautiously, you sat down next to him carefully while worrying about what to do when he failed to acknowledge your presence. Slowly reaching out your hand and placing it on his, he gave a slight jerk when he felt your touch and you called his name. Though he didn’t pull away, you could see the light in his eyes was a little dimmed and remembering who exactly sat next to you, your heart broke a little as you recognized another lost and frightened soul. "Bucky,“ you repeated in the same gentle tone, "is everything okay?”

“What?” he questioned, as if only now fully realizing you were there. “Oh yeah, sorry. Just got stuck in my own head a bit. Are you doing alright, doll? Do you need anything?”

Smiling a bit that he could be so concerned about you while obviously dealing with his own issues, you reached your other hand up and carefully pushed some hair behind his ear to clear the view of his face. “I’m all good, thank you. Did you want to maybe use the bathroom before breakfast?” you gently inquired as you didn’t want him to think you were giving orders.

Cautiously looking down at the hand still resting on his metal one, his gaze then fell on you and he was a little taken aback to see nothing but concern. For as long as he could remember fear had been the predominant look he had seen on the faces of humanity, yet even with the way the morning started and your obvious distrust, your ability to see the good in people still shone through like a glorious sunrise. Coming back to himself, he smiled at you before taking both your hands in his and kissed them tenderly as he spoke. “Yeah, I won’t be too long. Breakfast will be here shortly. I hope cereal is okay?”

“Cereal is just fine. It’s actually what I usually eat anyway.” you replied, getting up to allow him to go about his morning routine. This proved a tad difficult however when his grip held firm though gentle and you looked at him a bit worried until you saw that he was still in control of himself.

“I’m sorry if how you woke up this morning scared you. I’m sure it was a lot to wake up to.” he sighed, as if half afraid to mention it.

“It’s okay really. If you’d like we can maybe talk about it later, as you said breakfast will be here shortly.” you reminded him while hoping your tone remained reassuring.

Releasing you as he nodded his head in agreement, he finally headed for the bathroom, while you sat down on the couch, laced up your boots and tried not to think about the rollercoaster the last twenty-four hours had been.

Returning quickly from the bathroom, dressed in blue jeans and a red henley, Bucky led you out to the living area just in time for breakfast to be delivered. Pulling out your chair like the perfect gentleman he was, Bucky opened the door for the waiter before joining you at the table. As the trolley with your food was wheeled it, you were further surprised to see a bouquet of roses and lilies accompanying the breakfast. Placing all the necessary food items on the table, the waiter then handed the flowers to you before leaving the room.

Though your mind swirled with all the possible implications and the old you would have played the part of a good little girl, this new, home-owning you was determined to voice the question currently swirling in your brain. "Mr. Barnes, am I missing something here?“ you asked, raising the flowers slightly in order to point out what you were referencing.

"Y/N please, I have asked you to call me Bucky,” he reminded you and reached for the cereal while continuing to speak, “and what exactly is the issue?”

“The issue is that after not even twenty-four hours together, you’re now buying me flowers. Not to mention the incident.” you called it, not wanting to add the word groping. "This gives me the impression that you think we’re on a date or something.“

Stalling what he was doing, while not quite looking at you, your eyes widened and the bouquet fell from your hand as your suspicions seemed to bloom into existence in the silence that followed.

"Oh god, I’m right. Aren’t I?” you asked, trying to keep the terror out of your voice. Rising from the table when he still refused to answer and heading for the door, you just now realized he was sitting between your escape option when his metal arm shot out, wrapped around your waist and pulled you easily onto his waiting lap. Screaming and thrashing as loud and as hard as you could, you had to admit defeat, when his metal arm held you tighter while his other hand clamped itself firmly over your mouth and nose.

“Y/N,” he said, speaking so softly by your ear that you could almost picture yourself in the arms of his alter ego, “I need you to calm down so we can have a nice, quiet breakfast. Then we can clear up this whole misunderstanding. Nod if you accept.”

Fighting a bit harder, you finally had to agree when he tightened his grip once more and you felt like you were going to pass out. Happy with your reluctant acceptance, he rose from his chair and after depositing you back by your own empty bowl, added cereal to it before heading to the door and to your complete horror, locked it. Slipping the key card back into his jeans, he then sat back down at the table and continued to prepare his breakfast as if nothing had happened.

Still trying to wrap your head around what had just transpired, you figured dealing with him might be a damn sight easier with some food in your stomach, and so as he began eating, you gave in and tucked into your own breakfast. Eating in silence, while glancing at Bucky every now and then, you hoped that a chance meeting and a simple act of kindness hadn’t meant you traded one nightmare for another.

Once breakfast was finally over, Bucky cleared up the table and pushed the trolley out into the hall before placing the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door. Coming back in and once again locking it, he looked at your scared form waiting at the table and sighed heavily as he thought through how best to handle the situation.

Going to the fridge to get you some water, he brought it over to the table and kneeling down before you, requested that you drink some. Doing as he asked, you downed the whole bottle as he gently reached out his hand to stroke your cheek. Feeling somewhat less anxious, you couldn’t understand how his touch calmed your fears and you silently cursed yourself as he finally spoke. "Let’s go into the other room and talk, shall we? If memory serves, there's a couch there you seemed to think was comfortable enough to sleep on.“

Rising from the floor and taking your hand as you silently nodded, Bucky led you back to the bedroom and sat both of you on said couch. Sighing again as you scooted away from him to the far end, he gave you a few minutes to get comfortable before trying to alleviate your concerns. "Y/N, tell me what’s bothering you and we’ll figure out how to fix it.” he said, finding it difficult not to reach out and pull you onto his lap.

Seething that he even pretended not to know what was bothering you, you tried to control your temper so as not to provoke his darker side. “What’s bothering me is you acting like we’re a couple. Paying for everything, the flowers, the groping and don’t even think I didn’t see you locking the door just now. Give me a straight answer, will you allow me to leave here?” you asked, looking directly at him.

“You want a straight answer, fine. No.” he replied, and his answer actually took you by surprise. Never in your wildest dreams did you expect him to so blatantly shoot you down and for a few seconds you were actually lost for words. "Now answer a simple question for me, why did you agree to keep me company?“ he asked, and you realized he had you there.

"Well I … ” you stammered, trying to think of an answer that wouldn’t land you in even deeper shit.

“I’m waiting, doll.” he smirked, seeing quite plainly how flustered you had become. "Is it possible that it’s your feelings for me and not my actions that scares you? Has life treated you so poorly, that the slightest bit of affection from someone is something you’re now conditioned to pull away from?“ Moving so close to you that he placed his hand behind you on the back of the couch while you felt his warm breath on your skin, you knew his ability to focus on your heartbeat would give away your secret.

Finally swallowing the lump in your throat, you looked at Bucky and figured the truth was the only option left. "I agreed because like you said we were enjoying ourselves and I didn’t mind keeping you company for a brief time. However, I honestly don’t know why you want to keep me around.”

Knowing that he had been right and that you spoke the truth, Bucky’s heart broke that someone as precious as you, thought so little of yourself. Somewhat afraid to startle you, he slowly brought his hand down to your shoulder before speaking again. "I want you with me because you possess a kindness sorely lacking in most people. After all you actually treat me like a human being.“

Never having been used to hearing anything good said about you, you stared around the room, unwilling to look at him. Bucky however was having none of it and throwing caution to the wind, pulled you securely against his side. "Doll, you don’t get a lot of compliments, do you?” he asked, reaching for your chin and forcing you to look at him. Gazing into his soulful blue eyes, you answered “no” so low that only the silence of the room and his super soldier hearing enabled him to hear you. At last understanding why you were so hesitant of him and your feelings, he now realized he needed to take things slow with you. Placing a tender kiss on your forehead, he ignored your shocked expression before moving on. "Okay, so accepting that you promised to keep me company, what would you like to do today?“

Feeling yourself relax somewhat, you thought about what your answer would reveal, but figured being who he was and the friends he had, he could probably always find you anyways. "I think I’d like to swing by my house and grab a change of clothes. Would you by any chance be any good at climbing rock walls?” you asked and was greeted with a glorious smile that helped pound harder on the walls you so carefully erected around your heart.

“Ah beautiful girl, I can climb a rock wall better and faster than anyone.” he smirked and as he helped you up from the couch, you couldn’t help laughing at how confident he sounded or the child-like enthusiasm plastered across his features.

“Okay then mister, let’s see what you’ve got.” you said as you released your hand from his and headed towards the doors.

Feeling a bit more relaxed as Bucky unlocked the door, both of you headed downstairs and set off walking towards your house. Talking somewhat along the way about various topics, things started to get noticeably quieter the closer you got to home. Sinking back into your own head, you thought of all the possible questions he might have, as well as the implications of willingly opening your home to the Winter Soldier.

Recognizing the signs that you were heading down a rabbit hole of doubt, Bucky reached out and lacing his fingers with yours, squeezed your hand gently while giving you a reassuring smile. Smiling back at him, you finally reached the two story building you called home and as you made your way through the modest front yard, you wondered what this individual who had seen so much of the world would make of your piece of it.

Unlocking the front porch and ushering Bucky inside, you had no idea what exactly he was thinking when the first question he asked was regarding the composition of the structure. Explaining that the ground floor consisted of a nicely sized, three bedroom house while the first floor boasted five spacious bedrooms with en suites, you didn’t see the gears turning in his head as you showed him to the lounge on your way to the master bedroom.

Working quickly to change your clothes, while also remembering to slip on some underwear this time, you actually forgot you had a highly skilled assassin for company and so was unaware that your naked form moving around your room was being secretly observed.

Running his hand lazily over his crotch as he watched from the hall, the blue lingerie set adorning your body teased him just so, and it took every ounce of his strength not to throw open the door and take you right then and there. As it was, he instead tried to focus on what it would be like to see this house filled with laughter and littered with toys and these thoughts, coupled with you pulling on jeans and a plain white t-shirt, slowly brought his raging horniness under control.

Finally dressed, you tossed a few days provisions into a bag before heading into the rest of the house to retrieve the super soldier. Finding him out in the small back yard, you wondered what he was thinking as he turned to face you. "This is a really nice place you’ve got here. I don’t imagine you’ve had it long though?“ he questioned and you wondered how someone could know so little and yet so much about a person they had just met.

"What makes you say that?” you inquired while hoping to get some insight into him.

“Well I kinda peeked about upstairs. That’s a lot of boxes for someone living here.” he smirked and you found yourself laughing along with him.

“Wow great detective skills there. I guess you really don’t miss anything when it’s right in front of your nose. I only recently moved in and have kinda just been enjoying my freedom, I guess.”

“Hey now, don’t get cheeky. I’d hate to have to punish you before we have some fun.” he said, coming to stand in front of you and playfully swatting your ass.

Feeling a mild tingling sensation shoot through your core, your mind wondered how he could have such an effect on your emotions. Reigning in these thoughts and feelings, you placed your bag over your shoulder and headed back into the house. Retrieving your jacket, while making sure Bucky was following you, both of you exited the door and locking up asked him if he wanted to walk to the adventure center or if you should take your car.

Reaching out to take your bag, like you he threw it over his left shoulder before extending out his right hand to you. "How about we walk?“ he suggested, allowing you to lead the way when you placed your hand on his. "After all, the weather is glorious and it’s definitely one way to limber up.” he added, winking at you suggestively.

Ignoring the innuendo and the tingling still lingering between your thighs, half an hour later your spirits were high as you led Bucky through the lobby of the adventure center to the rock wall which you luckily enough had a standing booking for every Tuesday.

Stepping into the harness and pulling it tightly, you were both touched and annoyed when Bucky came to stand beside you and checked that everything was in order. "Hey Barnes, just what do you think you’re doing?“ you asked as he then attached the rope.

"Just making sure everything is secure. This is precious cargo and we don’t want anything happening to you.” he replied as his hands lingered on your shoulders.

“Well as sweet as that gesture is, I have been doing this for a few years now,” you pointed out as you released yourself from his hold to make sure your shoes were still laced up securely, “and I’ve been quite safe. Thank you very much.”

“Sorry.” he said, as he played with your fingers before both of you turned towards the wall. Realizing you couldn’t stay mad at him for some bizarre reason, you gently told him it was okay before suggesting both of you get stuck in. Not sure how you were going to match up to an Avenger, you gave him a tentative smile, took a deep breath and began.

Taking your time and zoning out as if on your own, you matched Bucky hold for hold and was surprised to see he hadn’t skyrocketed to the top. Unsure whether he was taking it easy on you or if he was simply just enjoying himself, he reached the top about two feet before you and waiting until you joined him, stretched out his hand to take yours before asking if you were okay.

Smiling broadly at him, you assured him everything was fine before both of you gently kicked off from the wall and eased yourselves back down to the ground. Having once again gotten there first, your feet never touched the floor however as Bucky caught you easily in his powerful arms and even you had to admit it actually felt comforting. Releasing you a few seconds later, both of you agreed that since Bucky didn’t have a change of clothes with him, it would be easier and nicer to shower back at the hotel and so headed off there to clean up. Again walking hand in hand, you laughed and chatted about the other things you liked to do and the next thing you knew, your bag, along with your jacket, had joined his on the bedroom floor.

Getting both of you some water bottles while you sat on the couch and began removing your shoes, you stopped halfway through when Bucky stood next to you and offered you a bottle. Thanking him and drinking it down quickly as he joined you on the couch, you looked at him dubiously at the words that then left his mouth. “So sweet girl, tell me, where do you stand on environmental protection?”

“I beg your pardon. What does that have to do with anything?” you asked, wondering what he was getting at as he scooted closer to you.

“Well,” he grinned, toying with the hem of your t-shirt, “we both need a shower and I know for a fact the one in there will easily accommodate two.” he replied while raising an eyebrow towards the bathroom.

As his meaning finally settled in your brain, you tried rising to your feet to put as much distance between you two as possible, only to find your t-shirt held firmly in his strong grasp. "Bucky let me go,“ you said forcefully as your hands went to your back to try and release his hold. "I am not going to shower with you. Ever.”

“Not even if I make it worth your while.” he whispered by your ear as he ran his metal hand back and forth along your thigh. Unsure whether or not he knew the effect he had on you, your protests died down as his hand continued to stroke and squeeze your thigh while his lips latched onto your neck and began kissing and sucking as if his life depended on it.

Biting down particularly hard at the same time his metal hand ripped open your jeans and his cool fingers slipped inside to make contact with your clit, the moans that now left your lips were music to his ears. Releasing your t-shirt while his other hand and lips continued to work their magic, Bucky, with what you assumed was all the skill and strength of a trained assassin, moved both of you to the bed, while never breaking contact with your neck or pussy. Placing you upon it gently, his flesh hand slipped inside your t-shirt and easily unhooked your bra before looking into your face to see lust-filled eyes staring back at him.

Bending down tentatively to capture your lips with his, you couldn’t hide the moan that escaped when, between your legs a long, cool digit breached your folds and worked its way along your channel. Taking advantage of this opening, Bucky slipped his tongue into your waiting mouth and explored every inch before adding another finger to your now aching core. Working these fingers in and out at a torturously slow pace, while his tongue now warred with yours, you were slammed back to reality when his lips once more returned to your ear and his next words broke the spell he had been casting. “Did you know when you dressed that blue is my absolute favorite color?”

Realizing with blinding clarity that he had earlier watched you dress back at your house, you somehow took him by surprise and shoved him off you before heading for the bathroom and locking the door. Sitting on the toilet as you tried to calm yourself down, the fire he lit between your legs threatened to engulf you and to make matters worse, your brain was quick to point out that even if you showered, all your clean clothes were in the same room as the horny super soldier assassin.

Cursing the feelings he was able to create within you, you reluctantly opened the door to find Bucky on the bed where you left him, stroking his crotch while sucking on the fingers that mere moments ago were working on sending you into orbit. Biting back a moan as he acknowledged your presence and his blue orbs locked with yours, all rational thought abandoned you at his next words. "Hey doll, let me be the first to tell you, you taste divine?“

Deciding that later you would blame what happened next and the resulting consequences on hormones, you sprinted across the room, crashed into his strong chest and brought your lips down on his as your fingers sought out his hair. Latching on as he suddenly got with the program, Bucky kissed you back just as passionately as his hands helped settle you better on his powerful body.

Feeling the hardness nestled against your mound as his hands pushed your hips against his, you grudgingly pulled back as your lungs screamed for air. Looking down on his startled form, you placed your hands against his chest and you tried to get your breathing under control as he smirked up at you. "Not that I’m complaining, but what has changed in the last few minutes.”

“My head reminded me that I’m supposed to be having fun.” you squealed out as Bucky’s hands continued to squeeze your ass.

“Such a pretty thoughtful head.” he then replied, before flipping you over onto your back and bringing his lips to your forehead. “I’m gonna show you just how much fun we can have doll.” he continued as he began slowly moving down your body. Grabbing hold of your t-shirt as you wiggled beneath him, Bucky quickly divested you of your top, as his eyes got a close up look at the bra he had glimpsed earlier.

“Beautiful.” he breathed out as his palms came to rest on your mounds while his lips explored your now exposed stomach. Continuing to squirm around as his tongue, lips and facial hair tickled your flesh, all rational thought went out the window again when Bucky looked up at you before grabbing hold of your jeans and peeling them off your legs.

Now standing up and looking down at you, he winked cheekily at you before reaching for the hem of his henley and pulling it over his head. Leaning up on your elbows, you licked your lips as his glorious abs came into view. Noticing your heated gaze, Bucky maintained eye contact with you as he slipped his fingers into the waistband of his pants and removed them easily.

Now stalking towards you in nothing but his boxers, he playfully jumped on the bed next to you before placing you gently upon him. “Like what you see Y/N?” he asked, and something told you that the use of your name and the lowering of his chin meant he was somewhat unsure of your answer.

Knowing what he had lived through while trying to understand the insecurity it obviously fostered in him, you reached for his chin and kissed him tenderly before speaking. "Absolutely Bucky.“ you said, smiling down at him. "But keep in mind, I don’t exactly have anything to compare it to.” you smirked.

Laughing gently as he pulled you down on top of him for a tender kiss, he smiled as he thought how lucky he was to have found you. Holding you tight as you nestled against his chest, he reluctantly asked the question he was afraid to get an answer to. "Doll, are you really sure you want to do this? Truth please.“

Thinking seriously about this, you reluctantly turned away from him, slightly afraid to answer after the previous exchange.

"Y/N?” he questioned firmly, drawing you back to your current predicament.

“I do, but … ” you stopped and licked your lips which were suddenly dry. "but I had rather hoped my first time would be in my own bed. Are you mad at me?“ you asked quietly, still unable to look at him.

"Oh Doll, you’re killing me.” he said, as he sat up while now holding you on his lap. "Of course I’m not mad at you. I too would prefer your first time to be in our bed.“ he continued, though you were too concerned with his reaction to pay much attention to what he was actually saying. "Come on you,” he grinned, “let’s get ourselves cleaned up and we’ll head downstairs for dinner. How does that sound?”

“Fantastic.” you replied. "But are you really sure you don’t mind?“

"Absolutely doll.” he kissed you reassuringly and standing up, carried you towards the bathroom as his plan to ingratiate himself into every part of your life was unfolding nicely.

Depositing you in the bathroom as he turned on the shower, you sat on the toilet and wondered what had gotten into you when you reached over and grabbed Bucky’s ass. Looking back at you as you rose to your feet, his train of thought became interrupted when you stood before him and uttered in your sweetest sing-song voice, “Care to help a girl out?”

Staring at you as his hands reached out to remove your panties, Bucky peeled them off carefully before pulling you towards him. "Doll you’re making it very difficult for me to be a gentleman. Are you sure you haven’t done this kind of thing before?“ he questioned as his hands traveled up to remove your bra and his lips latched onto yours.

Moaning into the kiss as he divested you of your bra thus leaving you completely naked in front of him, you nodded your head as you leaned into his fit body and worked your hands down the back of his boxers. Massaging his ass cheeks while he placed open mouth kisses along your neck and collar bones, he bit down particularly hard, causing you to wince, when your wandering hands pinched his ass harder than he thought possible.

"Fuck doll, knock it off, or I’ll take you right here on this floor.” he exclaimed while jerking his hips towards you so you could feel exactly what your ministrations were doing to him. Staring up at him playfully, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and slowly rolling them down his legs, waited on bended knees for him to step out of them. Then tossing them aside, like he’d done with your lingerie, you leaned forward and ran your tongue along his shaft as you stood back up.

Groaning at the feelings you were creating within him and surprised by the level of control both of you were displaying, he quickly came to his senses and opening the shower door, ushered both of you inside. Washing as quickly as possible so as to avoid any further temptation, Bucky now understood why it was a terrible idea for both of you to share the shower. Smirking over at him as you bent over to wash your legs, Bucky swore that first chance he got you were going to be tied to your bed and teased until an apology passed your lips. As it was, his only option at the present time was to stand under the showerhead, turn on the cold water and allow the frigid temperature to cool the inferno raging in his loins.

Finally clean, both of you exited the shower and returning to the bedroom, dressed in silence before heading downstairs. Having had the good sense to book a table, Bucky placed his hand protectively on the small of your back as the waiter escorted you to the discrete booth where this whole rollercoaster had started. Sitting down and ordering your meals, you were painfully aware once again of all the stares directed your way. Taking your hand and squeezing gently, Bucky’s reassurance eased your nervousness and with his help the rest of dinner was enjoyed in your own personal bubble. Once the meal was over, a game of cards back in his room, also your room now, found you sitting in front of him with nothing but your lingerie while he had only lost his socks, shoes and top.

“You’re not very good at this, are you doll?” Bucky asked, gazing across at your now almost naked form.

“Maybe I’m better than you think,” you smirked back “and this was just the quickest and easiest way to get undressed for bed.”

“Ah doll, if that was what you wanted, I would have only been too happy to oblige.” he replied and neither of you could hide the grins that graced your features. Finally agreeing that a glorious bed was calling, both of you availed yourselves of the facilities before Bucky returned to find you staring at the bed.

“Y/N doll, is everything alright?” he inquired as his arms engulfed your smaller frame and your head fell back against his chest.

“I was just wondering what the chances are that morning will find me once again wrapped in your arms.” you said and you could feel the rumble in his chest as his laughter gently filled your ears.

“Doll I think we both know the chances are extremely high. Why do you ask?”

“Well in that case,” you said, releasing yourself from his embrace, “I might as well save you the trouble and sleep by the window now,” you continued, before turning around, kissing him tenderly and walking to the opposite side of the bed. Lying down and tucking yourself against his body, Bucky made good on his promise to hold you through the night and once again a restful night’s sleep easily claimed you.

Waking refreshed, but alone the next morning, your sense of disappointment surprised you as you not only wondered where Bucky was but how he had now become something you missed when he wasn’t there. Sitting up in bed, you were just about to get up and look for him, when the bathroom door opening announced his presence. Looking sleepily over at him, he quickly joined you back in bed before placing his arms around you and kissing your hair. "Everything alright sweet girl?“

"Kinda,” you replied quietly without looking at him.

Paying attention in a way that only someone with his life experience could, Bucky lifted your chin and noticed quite easily the concerned look clouding your features. "Tell me what’s worrying you babygirl.“

"I … um … ” you hesitated, wondering how he would react and where this particular decision would lead. "I was wondering if perhaps you’d like to check out of this hotel this morning?“

"I see,” he answered, not quite expecting this response, “and if I do that, where exactly might I stay for the next week and a half, hmm?”

Laying your head back down on his chest, his steady breathing helped calm you as the next words left your lips. "Well, there’s more than enough room at my house.“ you quietly replied, though you knew he heard every word.

Staying completely still as your words sunk in, you looked up in time to see sheer wonderment light up his features as the implications of your offer hit home. "Wait, just so there’s no confusion here, are you inviting me to stay at your place for the rest of my visit?” he asked while sitting you up and placing you on his powerful legs.

“Yes and possibly the rest of your life.” you quickly blurted out before you could stop yourself, though you knew his work wouldn’t allow him to accept.

“Could you repeat that?” Bucky asked, pulling your hands away from your face as you realized with blinding stupidity what you had said.

“Nuh uh. You know what I said, please don’t make me repeat it.” you begged, but he wasn’t having any of it. Flipping you easily onto your back, Bucky proceeded to use his lips and tongue to find every ticklish spot on your body and skillfully ravished each and every one until you could no longer stand the torture. “Alright, alright. Enough.” you cried out as tears leaked from your eyes and you tried to get your breathing under control. "I said you could stay for the rest of your life.“

"That’s what I thought you said, doll.” Bucky replied as he placed soft kisses on your lips before moving against your ear. "And just whose bed might I be sleeping in, hmm?“ he whispered as a burst of heat shot through your body and settled firmly between your legs. Unable to focus on anything but his skillful mouth now pleasuring your pulse point, you let out a moan when his teeth bit down on your shoulder to get your attention. "I asked a question, sweetie.”

“Mine.” you breathlessly replied, and you swore the smile that graced his features could light up a room all on its own. Kissing you once more, he lay back down beside you and pulling you flush against his body, asked if you were really sure this was what you wanted. “Absolutely. I know we haven’t known each other very long, but with you I feel safe and cherished. It’s a feeling I’d like to hold onto.”

Delighted that his plan was working out, having actually arrived in the area the previous week, he happily agreed to take you up on your offer. Then setting the alarm on his phone to wake you in two hours, he wrapped his arms tightly around you and lulled you back to sleep.

Waking fifteen minutes before his alarm went off, Bucky looked down on your sleeping form and hoped you never had to find out that it was Natasha who had first seen you in this same hotel a few months previous. Having been the day you had finally purchased your new home, she watched from another table as you ordered your food and ate in peace while keeping to yourself. Not knowing why, she followed you that day and finding you relaxing on a nearby beach, all she could picture was Bucky sitting next to you as the wave crashed around you. She knew at that moment, the love her friend was looking for, was right in front of her.

Returning back to the present and turning off the alarm, he went about sending a quick email to Sam, Steve and Nat to inform them of developments, before turning his attention back to you. In time his friends would welcome you into the fold, but for now, his main goal was to help you blossom into the self-confident goddess he knew you could be. Sliding his metal arm along your thigh, he caught hold of your panties and pulled before letting it snap back gently against your folds. Doing this a few more times while bringing his lips down on your bra covered nipples, he eventually woke you up with two minutes to spare.

Finding a wet sensation between your legs, not to mention his drool all over your bra, you tried to be pissed at him, but could only manage mild irritation. Joining him for a quick shower, both of you dressed quickly before heading around the suite and gathering up every stitch of your belongings. Once all the things were packed away, you once again threw your bag over your shoulder and taking Bucky’s offered hand, headed downstairs to the reception desk. Closing out his room account while reserving your now usual booth for Monday and Thursday nights at seven o'clock, you and Bucky then left the hotel and set off towards your house.

Planning on enjoying whatever the next week and a half brought, you had no idea as you slid the key into the front door, that Bucky fully intended taking you up on your offer. Filling your days with all your favorite activities, domesticity and unbelievable sex, as it was, seated in your booth in an unusually empty restaurant almost four months later, your slightly plump stomach hidden beneath a stylish top, the reality struck you instantly as Bucky dropped to one knee and opening a small box, asked you to marry him.

Knowing now that this was his plan all along and you had simply been played and maneuvered to this point, you held out your hand and said “yes” as he slipped the ring on your finger before placing his lips tenderly against yours and then moved down to kiss your growing bump. Finally having everything he wanted, he sat back down and ordered dessert as he watched you staring at the beautiful sapphire that now rested on your left hand.

“What are you thinking there doll?” he asked as you tore your eyes away from the stone and focused instead at the mundane pattern on the table tile.

“I was just thinking about what happens when the novelty of all this wears off.” you replied, gesturing to both the ring and your current condition without meeting his gaze.

Waiting for the waiter who had just arrived with your desserts to leave, Bucky got up and sitting down beside you, tenderly placed one arm around you, before pulling you close and resting the other on the life growing inside you. "You two, my love are not a novelty and I never want you to think like that again.“ he lovingly reassured you. "You are the most important things in my life and I will spend forever proving that to you. Now how about we finish our dessert and I will take you upstairs where this all began and remind you just how much you mean to me.”

Realizing as his words sunk in, that he had not only booked out the whole restaurant, but also your original suite for the night, a light giddiness eased your worries somewhat as you easily accepted his offer. Finishing your desserts and heading upstairs with Bucky’s arm protectively around your waist, the familiar setting once he opened the door and led you to the bedroom, brought back all the wonderful feelings and memories that led to where you were now … pregnant, naked and absolutely worshipped by a man you knew you never wanted to live without. Thus moaning and writhing beneath him as he gently thrust into your sweat slicked body, you let your fears melt away on the orgasms he pulled from you before he joined you in a post orgasmic bliss of tender kisses, cuddles and sleep filled with joyous dreams of things to come.

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offthefieldsmau · 2 years ago

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⚽ 2.14.

Hearing the way sobs ripped through Alma at the confession she made — the way the truth filled her to the brim with emotion that she could only express through tears — ripped something raw inside Stede.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he whispered, “I still don’t. I…” he paused, “I’m scared, Petal.”

Alma pulled away from the hug to look up at Stede and— oh fuck. The red-puffiness of her still wet eyes opened another wound in Stede’s heart of seeing his daughter like that.

Her eyes were wide and bright-hazel, curious as she asked, “Why are you scared?”

And what a question that was. The answers spanned miles — if Stede had all the time in the world he still wouldn’t be able to answer them all. Could he tell himself the truth, least of all his daughter? How was Stede supposed to explain it to Alma in a way she understood when he felt lost trying to find the terrifying answer himself?

Because the truth was something that shone in a different light. Where the safety of his daughter was a bright, white, obvious beacon that Stede understood clearly…the truth of his anger wasn’t anger at all —

It was fear. It was a tiny, dim flickering candle at the end of a long, treacherous hallway. Answers that banged on the doors that lined the walls, the small flame threatening to go out with every step Stede took to get closer to it. Every door that opened held a different light — red in shame or green in anger and Stede couldn’t even think to unpack it. To close the door behind him and face whatever fear or insecurity or confusion was waiting for him to be confronted.

Anxiety fed his fear like kindling; the flame ignited into a wildfire.

What if everything Stede worked for wasn’t what he wanted, in the end? What if it — all of it — was a mistake?

All of it tied in with one another: a nasty cobweb that he kept trying to swat away, but still (silky line after silky line) connected each worry back to one another. Covered in dust, something he willed to shrivel up in the recesses of his anxieties and never to be breached—

What if all the choices in the past two years were a huge mistake? The divorce, the new business, the relationship choices — had it all caused more destruction than Stede can perceive? The unforgiving perception of hindsight could reveal deep, wounding cuts that were too hard to repair.

What if Stede hurt his kids more in the long run because of the chaos? And if they hurt period (sports injuries and not being there and dating their teachers) what then? And Sam; not only did Sam cut into Stede (not gravely, but he left scars regardless) and leave a tornado of trust issues in his wake — how did that impact bleed into his children? How will they view their own relationship some day, because of Stede’s mistakes?

What if, if Stede took the plunge and stopped letting this grudge be a wall between him and Edward, that it didn’t work out? Ed, in all his ways that he seemed to be such a great match for Stede (the twilight to his daybreak), could have been a mirage. A dream (stars shining, nightingales singing) that Stede imagined, only to be surprised with a nightmare — someone who led him astray to put new scars into Stede’s skin. Stede, with all his baggage and fuckups, could hurt Edward, even unintentionally.

What if he was just destined to be alone and never found the love he craved?

The desire to call it quits — to go back to being a doctor, a husband, a comfortable failure — felt stronger than it ever had in the anxious two years that passed. He promised — promised — himself that this new adventure would be good for him. For his kids. For their family…

What if it was all a mistake?

An answer to that very question laid in the tight squeeze of Alma’s arms around her dad as she hugged him.

#off the field #off the field smau #otf smau #ofmd smau #chapter two #prose

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moonknightly · 4 years ago

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now all you see is red : santiago garcia x reader

Word Count: 3.6k+

Excerpt: “There’s you, and God, Santi would let you completely ruin him.”

Warnings: Smut (18+), choking, spanking, light bondage, dom/sub dynamic, light degradation/humiliation, rough sex, angry sex, dirty talk

Santiago is familiar with anger.

He knows it well, he’s used to the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth, the smoke he can never fully push from his lungs, the way flames lick at his fingertips as his blood boils in his veins. He’s used to the sharp bite and unrelenting sting, he knows the exact sound his fist is going to make when it meets drywall, can hear each bone crack on impact and can feel the sensation of his knuckles splitting open, can visualize the black and blue bruises that will mark his skin for weeks to come.

They might as well be permanent, he never feels like himself without those damn bruises anymore. They’ve become an integral part of him, just like the scar on the back of his neck and the weight he carries on his shoulders day in and day out.

Just like his anger.

He needs it, he doesn’t remember how to get through without it. Anger isn’t a stranger to the ex soldier, but a lover.

It’s a dance so intimate, one he’s performed thousands and thousands of times before. It keeps him grounded, reminds him that he’s real, that he’s here. He’s alive and he’s breathing, he’s not lying at the bottom of a ditch in a foreign country with a bullet in his side, rotting. He made it out, he’s earned his temper.

He’s in control. He has the power, and nothing is going to hurt him again. He won’t let it.

Except, that’s not entirely true.

There’s you, and God, Santi would let you completely ruin him.

And you have, you so have. You’ve fucking wrecked him, but he refuses to let you see it, he doesn’t even fully understand it himself. In all of the years you’ve known each other, Santi’s been able to keep that little secret to himself, and he’s not about to give it up now, he doesn’t need that shit.

What he needs is the control back in the palm of his hand after losing it for the last week. He needs to feel some sense of power after spending seven days in unfamiliar territory, feeling utterly torn apart by grief and worry.

They’d lost contact with you on your last assignment, and an entire week had gone by without so much as a word until you suddenly showed up at base, seemingly fine. Santi hadn’t been able to find even a scratch on your perfect skin, and he’d checked several times just to be sure. You’re fine.

But Santi isn’t. Fuck, he is so fucking far from fine, he feels like he’s going to be sick. His initial relief is fading fast, threatening to turn into something that he has no desire to feel, something he doesn’t know how to handle. He doesn’t want it, doesn’t need it.

He needs his control, his power. He needs familiarity.

So he latches onto the subtlest spark of anger the moment it strikes. He takes it and he fucking runs.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

His voice is eerily calm, almost chilling and it doesn’t waiver for even a second. It’s collected while the rest of him isn’t, but it’s enough to get him through. It’ll do.

“What do you mean?”

You’re sitting at the end of the bed, unlacing your boots, desperate to get out of them and into something comfortable. Santi keeps his eyes glued to you, tracking your every movement with expert precision that he’s spent his entire life mastering.

“A week. You went a fucking week without report.”

You seem almost annoyed, and really, you are — you’d spent the last hour getting the same lecture from your boss, you don’t need it from your boyfriend too even though it’s inevitable, so you shrug in response, and Santiago feels another white hot flash.

It’s perfect. He’ll take it.

“It would’ve compromised the mission, he was onto me. I’m fine.”

You’re fine. He laughs bitterly at that.

“I’m glad you’re fine, princesa,” he hums, not thinking about how he enunciates his words as he stalks towards you, painstakingly slow, brown eyes never straying from his target.

He’s quick, his reflexes sharp, and he has your chin between his fingers before you even register his hand moving.

“But that’s not a fucking excuse. You know your safety comes before anything else and we had no way to help you.”

“But I was safe.”

“But how were we supposed to know that, huh?” He shakes your head in his grip, like it’s enough to get you to see his way. “You could’ve been dead for all we knew. Do you have any idea what-”

He stops himself. That unfamiliar emotion is bubbling in the pit of his stomach again, and he pushes it away, down, down, down where it can’t touch him, can’t hurt him.

He needs another spark.

But now, he’s struggling to find it, and it’s clear. Your eyebrows are furrowed as you watch him wrestle with himself and hesitate, and he panics when your lips part because he knows you’re getting ready to ask him if he’s okay and he doesn’t fucking want you to. He doesn’t want to answer you.

So he just growls again, his hand moving to the back of your neck where he pushes your head forward until your lips meet his in a kiss that’s anything but gentle.

It’s all teeth and desperation and frustration and just like your annoyance, it’s perfect. Santi clings to that frustration to fuel his anger again, and he’s satisfied when it works and he feels the familiar tendrils of rage wrap themselves around his body. His free hand moves to your shirt, and he uses his grip to haul you to your feet only to shove you towards the dresser. You catch yourself, knocking a few things off in the process but you don’t care. You love it when he gets like this.

“Santi-”

“No.” He’s behind you again, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling your head back so your neck is perfectly exposed to him, breath hot against your skin. “Don’t you dare say a fuckin’ word, understand?”

You nod obediently — you’ve always taken orders as well as he gives him.

“Good girl.”

He nips at your neck once, twice, three times before he sinks his teeth in, biting down, marking you and he smirks when he feels your knees buckle just slightly. You’re struggling to hold yourself up already and he’s hardly touched you.

His hand travels around to the front of your neck and he wraps his fingers around your throat, not applying any pressure, simply just holding them there. He feels your pulse thrum under his fingertips and he counts along for a moment, smirking at just how quick your heart is beating.

“Nervous baby?”

You hesitate, and he feels you gulp, feels the way you shift just slightly under his touch.

“No.”

He tsks, sighing in your ear almost disapprovingly. He lets his grip tighten around your throat, and he revels in the sound of you trying to pull in air before he cuts you off completely.

“Maybe you should be.”

His free hand slams between your shoulder blades and you’re suddenly flat against the dresser, the force of it knocking what little air you had left in your lungs out. He gives you a second, just a second to use your safeword or to tell him to go a little easy, but you don’t.

He knows you’ll tell him if he needs to take it down a notch.

There’s nothing slow or patient about Santiago’s touch. It’s urgent, each movement made with purpose, never lingering, he doesn’t have time for that. He just wants to feel you, just wants to feel that anger and the pleasure and nothing else.

He pulls your jeans down your thighs, not bothering to get them all the way off or worry about your shirt. His eyes are immediately on your ass, and he growls when he sees that you’re wearing his favorite color — red. He loves you in red.

Not enough to save the panties for another day though. He rips them clean off your body, the stretching, tearing sound of fabric making him groan alongside your gasp.

“Open your mouth.”

You don’t hear him the first time, too absorbed in the feeling running through you. He smacks your ass, hard, the sound reverberating through the quiet room. The moan that leaves your lips might just be the most sinful sound Santi has ever heard.

“Open your fucking mouth.”

This time, you hear him, and you obey just like he knew you would, opening your mouth for him to stuff your panties into.

“Fuck I can smell you on them from here princesa.”

He loves it. He loves it so fucking much. He smacks your ass a second time, feeling it turn hot under his touch, then he does it again and again and again until he’s satisfied with the way you flinch, until you’re laying limp against the dresser with tears running down your cheeks.

“Color?”

Like he said before, your safety means more to him than anything else, and through his anger he still always checks in to make sure you’re okay to continue. He never wants it to get to a point where he actually hurts you, even though he knows what your body can take, even though he knows you’d let him, you’d even ask him to.

You can’t speak with your panties in your mouth, but one finger means green, two means yellow, and three means red. You hold up one, and he lands one final blow just to see if your answer changes. You still only hold up one.

“Good girl.”

He grabs your wrists and drags you back towards the mattress, and you immediately fall face down ass up just how you know he likes, but now he hesitates.

His knees are bothering him today, more so than usual, and he doesn’t know if he can kneel behind you long enough to fuck you how he wants to.

That only makes him angrier, feeling like he can’t perform. Feeling like he’s not good enough, like he’s failing in a field where he’s always personally felt like he’s excelled.

All he sees is red and you and it’s the exact distraction he’s been looking for, the perfect combination. His blood burns, his fingers burn, his mind is fucking screaming your name and nothing else. There’s nothing but you and the rage boiling in the pit of his stomach.

It’s intoxicating, it’s everything, it’s familiar.

“No, no no,” he laughs, shaking his head as he undoes his belt, hastily pulling it through the loops of his jeans. “On your side, hands behind your back.”

He’s on you the second you're in position, tightening his belt around your wrists so you can’t move them, can’t touch him. He chuckles darkly when your fingers wiggle around in search of something to hold onto.

“Poor baby,” he hums, voice completely condescending and he loves the way your eyes roll at the tone of his voice. He loves that you get off on this just as much as he does, he loves that you dance with his temper, that you know it almost as well.

He’s so fucking hard. He can’t wait any longer.

He doesn’t check with his fingers to make sure you’re wet enough to take him, he knows you are. He can smell you, he can see your juices glisten when he hoists your leg up to reveal your pussy to him. You’re always so wet, always so ready for him.

And he’s more than ready for you, stroking himself in the palm of his hand while he looks you over with hungry, dark eyes. His hand is nothing compared to the warmth and pleasure he knows you’ll bring him, there’s not a damn thing in this world that can make him come as hard as you.

He lays behind you, continuing to pump his length as he drags the tip of his cock through your folds, nudging at your clit and smearing his precome all around. He can feel you clench, can feel you try to pull him in as you start rocking your hips against him.

“Jesus Christ, you’re acting like a fuckin’ whore for my cock babygirl. You need it, huh? You need me?”

You immediately start trying to beg through your makeshift gag and normally, that would only earn you more teasing but just like you, he can’t take it. He needs you just as much, if not more.

His nails dig into your left hip as he pushes himself against your entrance, leaving little crescent shaped indents in your skin, his grip so tight you both know it’ll bruise but it’s more than fine, it’s so good. He stops, wanting to drag it out for just a moment longer and your begging only continues, growing louder and louder until Santiago finally gives in.

All it takes is one sharp thrust and he’s so deep inside of you, spreading you open on his cock, tearing your walls apart to make room for his length, your bodies flush against each other. His free arm is wrapped underneath your body, his hand finding your neck again as he quickly sets his pace, not giving you more than a single second to even attempt to adjust to him.

It’s hard, it’s fast, it’s dirty and your cunt is squelching around him so deliciously, the sound only pushing him further — he doesn’t know if he wants to slow down so he can listen to it properly or if he wants to go faster.

“Fuck,” he grunts into your ear, his voice gravely and rough and he thrills in the way it makes you shiver. “Fuck you’re so tight, you’re squeezing my fucking dick baby. How’re you this tight?”

You only let out a moan that’s somewhere between a sob and a scream, and that sound alone is so entirely hot in itself, it’s enough to make his toes curl. He wants to pull that noise from you again and again and again, he wants you shaking and gasping and writhing. He starts using your hips for more leverage, knowing that he can get you to cry and whine for him this way.

You squirm and jolt each time he brings you back onto his cock, every time he hits that spot you didn’t believe existed until he fucked you for the first time and he wants to explode as he watches you struggle to take it.

He knows you’ll hold up your fingers if you need him to stop, but he still pulls your panties out of your mouth just so he can hear it, just so can listen for your words. You never say them, you only scream and cry and moan about how good it feels, how he’s pounding your pussy better than anyone ever has and how you never want him to stop.

“Yeah baby?” he purrs, nipping at your earlobe, tugging on it as he thrusts harder and harder. “This my pussy princesa? Tell me.”

“It’s yours,” you sob, clenching around him over and over. “God Santi, it’s yours, I’m yours.”

“That’s fuckin’ right baby, that’s it.”

He tightens his grip around your neck, his left hand moving from your hip to your clit, fingers matching the pace of his thrusts. He’s rubbing you so hard, he’s almost surprised when you angle yourself closer, but that’s his girl. That’s his fucking girl.

Santi can tell you’re close when your sounds grow higher in pitch and when he no longer needs to drag you back into his thrusts — you’re doing all the work for him, moving on your own accord, searching for that last little push you need to get over the edge and he lets you.

He lets you control the pace, lets you take what you need and that’s when that unfamiliar, unwelcome feeling enters his stomach again. He tries to ignore it, tries to push it away, tries to tap back into the anger but once it’s gone, it’s gone.

Now he’s just frustrated, but he doesn’t let himself get distracted, not when you’re on his cock, bringing yourself closer and closer to an orgasm he doesn’t want to miss a second of.

He rolls onto his back suddenly, catching you off guard but he steadies you on top of him and uses your bound wrists to continue rocking you on his length while you get adjusted again. He brings his free hand back to your clit, just like before and it’s not long before you’re right on the brink of coming again. Santi’s right there with you, watching you roll your hips and bounce on his cock, impaling yourself on him again and again. You’re so full of him, he only wants to fill you more.

He thinks he might actually let go first, but then you’re falling apart on top of him in a matter of seconds, sobbing his name so loudly while your thighs quiver and your body trembles. That’s what finally does it for him, and he comes inside of you with a deep groan that echoes in his chest, his back arching completely off the bed in an attempt to get even closer to you. He quickly grabs your hips again so he can continue to piston himself up into you, watching your combined release leak out of your pussy and coat his cock in glistening white. He only moans, quieter this time, and fucks it back into you, his pace slowing as his cock twitches over and over and quickly becomes oversensitive.

He doesn’t forget to undo your hands before he pulls you back onto his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you and burying his face into your neck. He’s working hard to catch his breath, and he hopes that that’s all you think he’s doing when really, he’s having to put twice as much effort into not falling apart.

His chest is heaving with emotion, his eyes are filling with tears that he refuses to let spill over. His anger is completely gone and only this remains. He doesn’t know how to control it, doesn’t know what to do with it and he hates it. He hates it so much.

And you notice, of course you fucking notice. He’s slow to launch into aftercare and it’s obvious that he’s distracted through it, something heavy weighing on his mind.

“Santi, what is it? Did I do something wrong?”

“You didn’t fucking call.”

His voice waivers and cracks and his cheeks immediately turn red, though he’s not sure if it’s from embarrassment or this feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

“What if something happened to you? You didn’t call.”

“Santi,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair, and he’s frustrated all over again. Usually he’s so good at reading you, he knows you like the back of his hand, but again he’s unsure about the emotion. He doesn’t know if you’re exasperated or if you’re concerned. He doesn’t wait to find out.

“You have any idea what was going through my head,” he bites, wiping furiously at his eyes. “I thought you were dead.”

He doesn’t see the expression on your face, doesn’t see how his words hit you right in the chest and shatter your heart. He misses the way you swallow the lump in your throat and he doesn’t see your hands start to shake, but he feels them when they cup his cheeks. His shoulders slump at the contact, and then Santi just breaks.

“You didn’t fucking call, why didn’t you fucking call?”

He chokes on a sob, coughing to try and rid himself of it but it doesn’t work. He hides his face into his hands, shoulders shaking as he softly cries and he’s just happy that he’s able to keep himself quiet.

“Oh sweet boy, come here.”

Santi let’s you pull him into your arms, he lets you comfort him in a way he didn’t know he needed, in a way he never even imagined wanting.

And he lets himself feel all of that unwanted emotion, because he needs to get it the fuck out. He doesn’t want to hold onto it like he does with his anger, he doesn’t want it dancing in his veins. He never, ever wants to feel this way again.

Santiago is familiar with anger.

But he’s completely unfamiliar with the fear of losing you. He’s not used to the nausea or the way his hands shake with panic, the way his chest feels like it’s going to collapse in on itself. He’s not used to any of it, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

He doesn’t know what the fuck is wrong with him.

But at some point in the middle of the night, he looks up and he sees you, still holding him, still comforting him, and it suddenly hits. Suddenly, he understands.

It’s you.

This is how you’ve ruined him.

You’ve made him feel things he’s been pushing away for so long, things he’s tried so desperately to keep under lock and key where it can never hurt him.

You’ve stripped him of his control, his power. You’ve taken away his anger and you’ve replaced the throbbing bruises on his knuckles, the smoke in his lungs and the blood that paints his vision.

He doesn’t see red, he only sees you.

Santiago is familiar with you.

#santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago garcia #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier fic

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soulmate-game · 4 years ago

Text

Useful Part 2

fluff with a little hurt and comfort. If you want answers as to the lack of angst, look through my recent posts for an explanation.

—* — * — * —* —*

“Wait, you have a WHAT?” were the first words that the rest of the Gotham-based vigilantes heard when they finally were able to track down where Damian had gone. Dick looked over at Bruce, who was noticeably tense. No surprise there, the man had just found out that he had a second biological child. One who was apparently a superhero already, without his intervention, and also apparently had a tragic background in the League of fucking Assassin Assholes. Not to mention that Damian’s track record with meeting siblings wasn’t great, even if this one wasn’t actually new to him. Nobody had any real fear of Damian relapsing on his no-kill rule, they knew he had matured far too much to be at risk of killing for something as immature as sibling rivalry anymore.

But there was still fear. Because this new Wayne was an Unknown Factor, and as a rule the Bats hated Unknown Factors. And they had no idea what the relationship between the two had been before they had been separated, or what it would become now.

“That wasn’t Damian’s voice,” Dick helpfully pointed out the obvious. Bruce only frowned, doing his best (and failing) to hide his anxiety about what they would find. Silently, the group inched forward to the edge of the abandoned building they were on top of so that they could look over at what was happening. What they saw was a girl, presumably the same one who had been in a ladybug onesie and had fearlessly begun to ask them to leave Paris— until she had laid proper eyes on Robin and fled, that was. That girl was sitting down next to an unmasked Damian, who had his arm around her shoulders and let her lean into his side. He even smirked cheerfully at her question before continuing to speak to her.

“A dragon-bat. I knew you’d love hearing about him, I’ll introduce you when you come visit the Batcave. His name is Goliath,” Damian admitted smugly. Despite the familiar attitude and pride behind his words though, his spying family couldn’t help but notice that he kept periodically rubbing the girl’s (they really needed to find out her name) shoulder in reassurance. None of them missed the tear tracks on both of their faces, or how red the girl’s eyes were. Clearly they had missed something big.

But nobody wanted to try to figure that out yet. This scene was too precious, too breathtaking for them to interrupt just yet. They had never seen Damian this vulnerable around someone outside of their little circle before, someone from the Time Before Bruce, no less. Most of the time, only Nightwing was able to see this side to Damian. And usually the roles were reversed, with Damian being the one consoled. They had never seen him in the position of the comforter before. The pillar of support.

It really cemented just how far he had come.

So they watched silently as the girl flinched, pulling away a bit and hunching in on herself. The laugh she let out was small and overflowing with self-degradation.

“You make it sound as if the rest of your family actually wants me to visit,” she replied sourly. Damian gently cuffed her over the head, frowning.

“Two things,” he held up two fingers from his free hand. “One: They will. They accepted me, and I was— well, you remember how I used to be. Once they actually meet you, and process the fact that there’s another Wayne now, they will bombard you with more welcoming than you will know what to do with. Two: It’s Our family, Marinette. Not mine, ours.”

Well, at least they had a name now. But it seems like they had bigger issues now, like Marinette’s clearly damaged sense of self. Jason and Tim traded knowing glances; it wasn’t hard for them to guess where, or how, she might have been damaged enough to think so lowly of herself.

They watched as Marinette shook her head.

“I don’t know. It’s one thing to try to… to get to know you again. We used to be close before… everything,” she haltingly argued, voice small and frail and uncertain. But she never once looked away from Damian’s eyes, trying to convey as best as she could what she was feeling. “But they’re different. They don’t have any reason to trust or like me, Dami. And I’m bad at, well everything, but especially,” she waved her hands frantically as if indicating the whole situation they were in. “I mean, listen to me! I can barely articulate right now, and I’m talking to someone I’ve known my whole life! I’m a mess. Nobody wants a mess.”

It was Damian’s turn to snort, and he pulled her right back into his side. “Please. If anything, that’s exactly the type of child Father goes looking for. We’re all a mess. Especially Father, trust me.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” she accused suspiciously, but sank into his sideways embrace anyway. Damian chuckled.

“No, I’m being honest. He’s terrible at emotions, not that I really have much room to talk. We all are pretty bad with them. But he’s the most obvious when it comes to that issue,” Damian smirked over at his sister conspiratorially. “For example. He still tries to tell people that he works alone, and pushes people away because he has this intense desire to protect, but doesn’t know how to say “I don’t want you to get hurt, stop worrying me,” so instead he says “Go away, I don’t need you,” only for us to see through that nonsense and remind him that the amount of people in his team is in the double digits already. He doesn’t want to admit he cares about us and is vulnerable—”

“Sounds familiar,” Marinette teased with a watery grin, startling a short laugh from her twin. He nudged her a little roughly (but not to roughly) and playfully glared at her. Marinette just giggled.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied with a grin before waving his free hand in dismissal. “Anyway. Another example. He has no idea how to tell a stranger, “hey, I’m your father and I will not reject you. In fact, I’m completely willing to adopt you right this moment and whisk you away to Gotham and relative safety and hire an entire team of therapists to help you and buy you half the world if you asked for it,” so instead he and the rest of our emotionally constipated family just lurks on the edge of a building in broad daylight eavesdropping on us and expects us not to notice.”

“Wait what,” Marinette’s gaze instantly whipped up towards the sky, taking only half a second to locate the aforementioned eavesdroppers. Everyone except Bruce at least had the courtesy to duck down and pretend not to be there when they noticed she had seen them, leaving Batman standing seemingly alone on the concrete roof. Marinette blinked once. Twice. Then turned to Damian. “I’m gonna blame the fact that I didn’t notice them on emotional turmoil, because there is no way I’ve gotten THAT rusty.”

Damian smiled, but didn’t laugh. He knew that was a deflection to try and distract from Marinette’s quickly resurging self-consciousness. Her hands were already trembling again, and the fear from only minutes ago had resurfaced. The insecurity. He could practically see the words “I’m not good enough,” written in her irises.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, standing up and pulling her with him. “If anyone has to worry here, it’s me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Marinette whisper-hissed right back, eyes wide in disbelief and confusion. “You’re— You! Mister Perfect!”

Damian rolled his eyes, and his self-deprecating smirk matched the laugh Marinette had given just a few minutes earlier. “For the League, maybe,” he shrugged. “Never the Wayne family. Which is why I know you’ll be fine. If they put up with everything I’ve done and still call me one of them, they’ll accept you with barely a second thought.”

Marinette’s next argument was cut off by the sound of a dozen soft footfalls stirring up dirt not far ahead of them. The BatClan had landed from the rooftop.

Marinette gulped.

But if there was one thing— one thing she still remembered from her days as Marie Al-Ghul, it was how to fake pride and confidence. She straightened her shoulders automatically, lifted her chin, and pulled away from Damian’s supporting arm around her shoulder. Damian let her.

A little bit of old resentment flared up in him as he saw Batman walk up close enough to comfortably talk with them. Resentment that he no longer held onto, but that had haunted him nearly every night of the first two years he spent with his dad. The realization that maybe his twin was the one that was meant to be a Wayne. Marie had the blue eyes, the compassion, the more specifically detective-oriented mind. The calm head. Sometimes. Marie was exactly who he imagined when he thought of a naturally born member of the BatClan. Stubborn, clever, morally just. She had risked immediate death just because she refused to fight him, for crying out loud. Because she didn’t want to hurt the boy who used to be her best friend. The only ally she had ever had, growing up.

Meanwhile, he still had issues reigning in his anger sometimes. He had too much blood on his hands, he was more of a battlefield tactician than a long-term strategist. Still stubborn, but also completely unaware of the pain he brought others with his words or actions a lot of the time. He used to be such a rage fueled little demon, and thinking about how his sister fit the classic Wayne outline more thoroughly than he did had made him destroy more than a few practice dummies in frustration.

But now, looking at Marinette trying so hard to appear strong and proud when he knew she was still so shattered inside, relief overpowered the old and dull resentment. This was what she needed, he could sense that easily. She, just like him all those years ago, needed Bruce and the others to start to heal her and reforge what the League had badly molded.

“... Marinette, I suppose?” Damian nearly facepalmed at his father’s awkward attempt at a conversation starter. Marinette herself was clearly too keyed up and overthinking things to even register any amusement at the lame attempt, merely nodding with an overly serious expression on her face.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Monsieur Wayne. Or that’s my name nowadays, that is,” She stumbled a little in her response before clenching her fists and forcing herself to continue as calmly as she could muster up. “My birth name was Marie Al-Ghul.”

Bruce’s eyebrows visibly furrowed underneath his cowl. “Was?”

“I…” Marinette finally looked away, shame creeping back onto her face. “I was explicitly told that I was stripped of the Al-Ghul name and would be killed if I ever dared lay claim to it again. So I not-so-legally changed it. And I was later adopted.”

Several sharp gasps or the hiss of breath through teeth bit through the quiet breeze. Nobody was necessarily surprised, Marinette could see it when she looked through her eyelashes and examined the winces and sympathy on the faces of the vigilantes before her. Batman’s shoulders were stiff, as if someone had paralyzed only his shoulder blades.

“And the people who adopted you?” Batman pursued. Marinette couldn’t read his tone very well, but it sounded vaguely angry so she quickly raised her hands in a placating gesture and her eyes widened significantly.

“They’ve been amazing! They don’t know anything about my past, or who raised me, but they are endlessly patient with me. I mean, honestly! Sabine caught me when I was trying to steal one of her gold bracelets in Hong Kong— and I know I’ve never been as good of a combatant as Dami, but I’ve always been better at sleight of hand and stealth so honestly that’s impressive— and she saw my dirty eight-year-old face and for some reason decided, ‘yeah I want this one as my daughter’ and roped Tom right into it and next thing I know they somehow tailed me to my hideout? I still don’t know how the hell they managed that, but Tom had a huge plate of steaming buns and I was so hungry and suddenly it’s two years later and I’m adopted and we’re on a plane to Paris—” Marinette threw up her hands. “I still don’t fully grasp what happened sometimes.”

She belatedly seemed to realize that she had just gone on an entire breathless rant at the speed of sound, and slapped her hands over her mouth before lunging into a deep bow. “I apologize! I spoke horridly out of turn!”

To her surprise though, she was met with a soft laugh instead of a scolding. She jerked in surprise, whipping her head up only to see Batman holding a hand over his chin to hide his large grin. It only took another second for the boys behind him to laugh a lot LESS softly. Nightwing strolled over casually and swung an arm around both her and Damian’s shoulders, playfully nudging her brother with his knee.

“I think she fits right in, don’t you little D?”

“Of course,” Damian scoffed, though his eyes were playful. “She is a Wayne by blood. She ‘fits in’ more than you strays.”

“Dami!” Marinette whipped back to him and puffed out her cheeks. “That was uncalled for!” she barked. Damian held his hands up in surrender.

“Relax,” he said as soothingly as he could manage. “They know I’m joking,” he dropped his hands and a knowing smirk took over his face. “And besides, now you’re relaxed so my plan worked,” Marinette could only blink at that. She… did feel more relaxed, actually. “Also. I told you you’d be accepted easily. They already consider you one of us.”

“Wha— there’s no way—” she frantically looked at each of the older men around her, but each of them just shot her a smile or grin and a short nod. Her shoulders and jaw both fell, and it broke a little of everyone’s heart.

Marinette looked so utterly shocked, bewildered to be accepted as if it was still something profoundly foreign to her. And there was that disbelief in her eyes, that distrust that screamed that she expected some sort of lie here. That told that she thought this would all crumble away at any second. If anyone had any reservations about bringing her into their inner circles, it vanished right that moment. She needed support, or she’d crumble away and they all knew it.

“How about we start by talking about the situation with Hawkmoth?” Red Robin spoke up, walking forward to stand beside Batman. “I assume that’s a little more in your element?”

Damian silently vowed to thank Tim later for that. In a silent, completely anonymous way of course. Couldn’t have Tim thinking they were friends or something now, could he? Marinette instantly straightened up and nodded, her confidence returning with a little more sincerity this time.

“Yeah. Yeah, let me transform again. It’ll be easier to explain.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was three weeks later, on Marinette’s third now-weekly visit to the Batcave, when the question finally came up. Jason had asked to spar with Marinette for the first time, having seen her in action as Ladybug and wanting to test the girl when she didn’t have superpowers to rely on. Damian hadn’t been down in the cave to warn him, and the result was Jason’s gut sinking as Marinette scrambled as far away from him as she could, eyes wide and chest heaving in the beginnings of a panic attack.

“Shit,” Jason muttered before he quickly knelt down and did his best to talk her down, to calm her until her breathing slowed and her pupils were back to normal. It wasn’t long afterwards that Marinette started hugging herself, refusing to look at him. But he wasn’t going to just back down, he wanted to solve this issue. If even the mere suggestion of a spar was enough to set her off, he needed to figure out why and fix it.

So he carefully lowered himself so he was sitting only a foot away from her, resting his arms across his knees casually.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Didn’t think it would be a sore subject. That’s on me.”

Marinette just shrugged, but didn’t answer him. She just buried her face in her arms and took a shaky breath.

Jason let the silence linger for a while before trying again. “Does this have to do with certain Asshole Assassins?”

That startled a slightly hysterical bark of laughter from her, and she had to wipe away a few tears when she raised her head and finally turned it in his direction slightly. Not enough for her to be looking at him, but just a subtle turn to show that she was listening and speaking to him. “Yeah.”

“You know, you never told us why you got disowned,” Jason tried to make his words as casual as possible, but wasn’t surprised when Marinette still stiffened and took a sharp breath. He didn’t push. The stage was set, and he’d wait until either she took the opportunity to open up or told him to leave well enough alone. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, and her foot tapped on the ground a bit. Clear signs of her anxiety around the subject, and Jason’s hopes vanished a little. He would probably have to wait longer for her to be ready to share.

But, to his pleasant surprise, he was wrong. She took another few minutes to gather her thoughts, but she did eventually open up to him.

“I refused to fight Damian,” she admitted. “It was… We were seven. It wasn’t supposed to be a fight to the death, but it was a very important spar. We were using live weaponry, and we were told to fight until we couldn’t anymore. Whoever fell first would be relegated as a mere soldier, and have to fight for status like any other assassin in the League. The winner would officially be named as G— as Ra’s Heir. I didn’t want to fight, because I knew Damian would win but I also knew that it wouldn’t be as easy as Ra’s probably expected if I gave it my all like he wanted. I knew both Damian and I would be heavily injured if I did as he asked, and it wouldn’t be worth it. If I misjudged anything, any single hit, I could have accidentally injured Damian permanently and ruined his worth in Ra’s eyes, and that wasn’t an option. I didn’t care that throwing the fight was as good as giving up my life, because at least I could be sure that Damian kept his. I could make sure that he was treated well, or as well as anyone could hope for in the League anyway. I could, with only a few words, make sure he became indispensable. Ra’s and Talia never liked me as much as Damian anyway, I figured… I figured it was nobody’s loss,” She swallowed heavily, clenching her eyes shut. “I was always just the spare. The extra. Damian was their crown prince, the one with actual value. Even to me. I saw him, and I saw everything I wanted to be. I… I tossed down my weapons and let him stab me, because I figured I owed it to him for being such a failure in comparison to him. That I owed it to him to do everything I could to make things easier for him, since I was just an unnecessary obstacle—” strong arms wrapped around her, and she turned to sob into Jason’s chest as he just silently held her.

“Idiot,” Damian whispered, making Marinette jump. Her twin sat only a few feet away, though only Jason would have known when exactly he had gotten there with them. He shook his head at her. “I never would have gotten as far as I did without you,” he whispered, looking up at the cave ceiling. “You were the only real rival I had. When you left, everything was either too easy or nearly impossible, nothing was the same as trying my best against someone who was just as good as me. And when I got here and met the others, I didn’t think any of them were worthy of taking your position, you know,” he scoffed a bit as he got lost in his memories. “That’s why I hated Tim for so long, I think. He reminded me of you so much that I wanted nothing more than to punch him for daring to replace you—”

“Heh, the Replacement twice over, huh?” Jason joked. Damian chuckled with a small eye roll.

“Plus, he just has a really punchable face,” Damian added, trying to distract from the emotion behind everything he had just admitted. “Part of me thought you were dead. The other part refused to believe that. And seeing Tim and how some of his mannerisms were the same as yours,” Damian shrugged a little. “It stung. Especially that second year, when I started to regret that you never had the chance to come here and join them with me. Meet them with me.”

Marinette sniffled. “... Who are you and what have you done with Dami? He’s never this sappy.”

Damian flicked a pebble at her head with a good natured glare, successfully diffusing the serious air a little. Marinette wouldn’t ever be normal, and it would take a while before she was no longer fragile, but she could get there. Especially now that her bridges with her brother had been mended, and and a whole new family had cropped up to help support her.

She was glad Damian had convinced her to try, again.

#maribat #platonic daminette #sibling daminette #bio!dad au #bio!dad bruce wayne #ml x dc #mlb x dc #Useful

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animeyanderelover · 3 years ago

Note

Hello again! Can I have prompt 46 with Ash? Tnx

Recently I told my friend that I had a lot of requests about him and she laughed about it. She doesn't really like him, but she gives him credit since he looks good.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, extreme paranoia, isolation, desperation, mentions of kidnapping,overprotectiveness, mentions of self-harm, Stockholm syndrome

Prompt 46: "Can I...can I kiss you?"

It was nothing less than a miracle that someone like you existed, someone who was cleansed from all the sins of this world and the corruption of humans. You were radiating with everything Ash had wanted for this world, a world that he wanted to give to you. It was the minimum from what she should and would do for you, it was his duty as your very own guardian angel. A role he was utterly dedicated too, devoted to his very own angel who forgave him his sins every time.

It was true, you had forgiven him his crimes already a long time ago as everything around you had started to fade away and you had lost count of how long exactly you had been stuck in here. Somewhere around one and a half years would be your expectation, looking on how the seasons had changed through the large and closed windows which symbolized your loss of freedom. But you didn't mind anymore.

You only needed and wanted Ash, your guardian angel.

There was clear tension in his body, you could feel how he stiffened up under your embrace. He had never really received that sort of affection before from anyone nor would he have ever wanted it from all those worthless lives walking around freely. You were the only person he actually wanted any sort of touches from. That was how pure you were, even causing someone like him craving something and falling victim to his own desires. And it was his own fault for being so weak-minded. He didn't deserve you yet letting you perish outside would be an even greater sin. He had to keep you safe.

"My Queen...what are you doing?"

Being able to keep his composure was important in front of you, though he remembered to have failed multiple times in the past already. Severe punishment was the only thing he could think of to atone for his failures for not being good enough, for proving himself to be so incredibly useless. Even now he could feel some unhealed wounds aching a bit, but you didn't have to know about his weakness and incompetence.

You blinked slightly confused up at him when he asked you such an obvious question, but it soon turned into slight giggling that instantly plunged Ash's heart into painfully warm emotions and forced his eyes to get wet. It had taken a while until you had been able to look so happy after he had quickly rescued you from all the evil waiting to devour you. The distress he had felt back then could never be put in words and no burns, knifes and broken bones had been able to make up for what you had been suffering under. Even now it remained as a anxiety deeply stuck in his heart. But looking at you now, smiling at him and not staring with wide eyes filled with fear at him, was worth much more than his whole life could ever repay you.

"I’m hugging you. It’s just that you always look so worried and stressed over my safety and never appear to take a rest. Just now you did as well so I thought this might help you a bit. A strong hug can be more worth than thousand words after all. That’s what my mother told me at least when I was younger.”, you replied softly, pressing your face deeper into his chest with a content look on your face.

There was nothing Ash could think of for a few moments, instead he seared the scene in front of him deep into his brain, how you were currently buried into his chest, looking so happy and peaceful. So stunning and precious.

Tears were quick to escape his eyes only seconds later, his insides stirring up with warmth that stung him and yet baked him with something he hadn’t felt in so long. Comfort and peace.

This was exactly why he had to protect you with his very own life, no one was allowed to snuff out the light you carried inside of you and that was able to even share it’s warmth with him. You possessed too much kindness to understand, but normal humans only destroyed what they touched, ruining it with their greed.

He wouldn’t let them do the same to you.

He would kill everyone who would even do as much as getting too close.

He just had to guarantee that you would live.

But first of all he had to calm himself down or otherwise he might worry you even more than he seemed to have done already. The tears were quickly wiped away with his sleeves before Ash was able to look at you again, still feeling like he wanted to continue crying. His heart felt like it might burst at any moment.

“You have so much warmth and love inside of you that I don’t think I deserve any of it. You shouldn’t even be concerned about me, I merely do what I have to do as your guardian. If you were to fall victim to this damned place, I would perish as well. What use is an angel who can’t even protect their chosen one?”

Pain was twisting his voice and face a bit when he dared to imagine how a world without you would be, a world filled with grief and darkness for him. Letting his guard down would be a fatal mistake, he had seen the worst of this world and the humans and he knew that it would happen again. That was why he had to be like this for you were his heart beating outside his chest. If something were to ever happen to you...

The angel hadn't even noticed that he had already started crying again, fist tightened and body shaking whilst getting lost in fears of losing the one good and bright thing this world had still left.

"But for me you're more than just a guardian angel. You're my angel and I want you to feel happy as well. I want you to feel loved as well. You do so much for me, but I feel like I only cause you stress and uneasiness. Shouldn't you be happy because of me?", you asked him in slight protest, feeling sadness whilst seeing the man you had come to love like this again because of you. You had never seen him truly relaxed nor had you ever been able to show him your feelings. He wouldn't let you, not thinking that he deserved you.

His reaction was instant, suddenly falling on his knees upon hearing from what you had said that he had disappointed you yet again, the visible look of your sorrow only stabbing his fear deeper into his very soul.

"I-I am so sorry! I didn't know that you felt this way only because I was so selfish to only think about myself like this! I don't deserve your forgiveness and accept any sort of-"

When he felt the soft sensation of your hands cupping his stained cheeks, he abruptly stopped his rambling, trying to not choke on his own breath that had gotten irregular.

"You don't have to apologize to me. I don't want to hear you saying such things about yourself. Don't you understand? I am unhappy whenever you are like this, seeing yourself as so worthless and not deserving of my love. That's what hurts me so much. You're rejecting my feelings. I love you, Ash. And I want to know if you do too. Because if you do, please stop talking like this and behave so distantly."

Your voice conveyed every bit emotion that was going on inside of you in that moment, something that Ash noticed with widened eyes as well.

Silence was cut short by him when he realized that you wanted something crucial from him which he would gladly give you. He had never considered that you would ever consider his love as something you wanted, consider him as someone you loved. When had been the last time someone had been truly kind to him and loved him? He couldn't remember anymore.

"Of course I do. You should never doubt my feelings for you. I love you more than you could ever imagine. It's impossible to function without you.", he managed to reply with a shaking voice as he grabbed both of your hands in his own.

"Then why are you acting like this? Everyone deserves someone who loves them. Without love it's a very painful life, isn't it? That's why I am hurting as well. Let me love you and I promise that you'll be able to feel peace as well.", you muttered slightly embarrassed out, leaning your head down so your forehead could rest against his own.

Slight sobs were starting to catch up to Ash as he was staring in pure awe at you.

"Thank you. I'll be better and make sure that I won't cause you sadness anymore.", he pressed out, tightening his grip on your hands only the slightest bit so he wouldn't hurt you.

"I'm glad to hear that.", you replied with a sincere smile on your face, joy stirring your heart up just by seeing that for the first time since he had abducted you, Ash was looking relieved and less tense. He just looked extremely grateful.

"May I ask you for a favor then?", you requested with a certain idea in mind.

"I'll do anything for you.", Ash replied, sounding very emotional.

"I want to do something for you for once since you normally do anything for me."

Hesitation and clear dislike instantly shadowed his face, the thought of him asking something from you going against Ash's belief in all the wrong ways. You shouldn't have to do him favors.

"It doesn't have to be something difficult. It can be a really simple thing. Just...something that I can do for you this once. Please.", you begged slightly, seeing the angel already struggling. You knew how he felt about such things, he hated letting you do something for him and he had never done it before either. Ash saw it only upon himself to serve you which was another thing that sometimes made you feel guilty. You wanted to do more for him as well.

"Can I...can I kiss you?"

Maybe that had been more a slip of his tongue, but he had been slightly panicking since hadn't want to sadden you again nor had he wanted you to do physical work for him. It was supposed to be the other way around.

So when he had stared for a moment at your face, eyes locked on your lips, he had considered somewhere deep in his mind possibilities which he had been fantasizing about a few times before, but hadn't thought that they would actually have a change of happening.

In his opinion they were still sinful, it would take a while for him to get used to the idea that you wanted to receive physical affection and love from him. The first impulse when he realized what he had said was instantly apologizing, only to be interrupted before he could even start saying anything.

You had already leaned down to fulfill him his wish before he could take it back again.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere ash #yandere ash landers

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commander-diomika · 4 years ago

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[Image ID: Screenshot of a tumblr reply from user @weareallfromearth saying “Holy shit I would V much like to know what you’d do with ZolfWilde.” End ID]

This was in response to me tag rambling that if Alex “I don’t Actually Have That Much Experience in Courtship” Newall and Ben “I just Realised I’m Too Straight For This” Meredith don’t know what to do with Zolf/Wilde, they should hand the ship over to me.

*rubs my gay little hands together.*

I initially characterized them offhandedly as Enemies-to-Lovers but that’s not quite it, is it? On reflection I would say it’s more of an Opposites Attract situation.

Oscar Wilde, as re-imagined in the RQG universe, is a homme fatale; a dangerous, attractive man, skilled in encouraging people to underestimate him, wearing different masks, never quite being able to trust or be trusted by anyone.

There is NO personal/professional line for Wilde. He lives his work, and his work is subterfuge and interpersonal manipulation. (whether or not he started this way in his field as a journalist, or was forced to become this way by the changes in his world, is another post.) He is a person who either cares very deeply what people think of him, or is has decided that manipulating what people think of him is the way to get what he wants, and from the outside it makes no difference.

Zolf Smith does not care what people think of him. He isn’t even skilled at being kind and empathetic to people he cares about; he has no time for emotional manipulation or genuine charm. He doesn’t even have a fantastic grasp on his OWN feelings, let alone other people’s. He’s grounded, disinterested in frippery or appearances. Which is why Zolf and Wilde started out so deeply at odds with one another.

Despite the differences in the interpersonal approaches, they have plenty of common ground.

They are both deeply dedicated to a cause. They care about their work to the exclusion of all else. They are both pragmatists who have their own internal moral code, and are willing to bend or break other people’s rules in order to get the job done. They are fundamentally good people. Despite their rocky beginnings, they can respect each other because of these things.

And they might have maintained their mutually disdainful, begrudgingly respectful working relationship and that could have been the sum total... Except then the world fell apart. The Meritocratic organisation was initially compromised, then disintegrated. The blue vein plague isolated everyone and made it even harder to trust supposed allies. The Cult of Hades was on everyone’s ass making their life difficult, the other PCs disappeared off the face of the planet. Zolf and Wilde ended up in a situation where they had no one else they could trust.

Familiarity breeds contempt, but maybe if the contempt is already there, it builds Something Else. Wilde was stripped of his magic in a way that made it much harder for him to keep people at a distance and (pardon the pun) project the illusion of the debonair playboy. Zolf would have had the chance to see through Wilde’s masks, and get a better understanding of what parts of Wilde were a calculated tactic, and what was his genuine self.

Whatever betrayal transpired that gave Wilde his scar and hardened him, Zolf was privy to. He was either there and saw it happen, or he was close enough in the aftermath to see Wilde properly vulnerable for the first time in their friendship. Hell, maybe Zolf was the one who rescued him and patched him up. That was a chance for Zolf to realise that this insufferable man is a friend who he cares about deeply. At this point, he’s cared for awhile, but has been too wrapped up with his own spiritual difficulties to have space to admit that to himself.

And Wilde, oh Wilde, he’s desperate to be seen and known and loved, but he’s never allowed himself. He’s never felt SAFE to. He doesn’t let people get close, treats every conversation as a battle to be won. His safety and his power lies in being admired, but never loved. So even as trust and fondness for Zolf blossoms within him, he won’t for a second allow himself to hope that the fondness is reciprocated

With all that out of the way, this is my version of events.

Wilde is a slut (affectionate), and Zolf is gray-ace, so if there’s any bridging of that gap in terms of physical intimacy, it has to be from Zolf’s side. Giving canon a tender massage into place, that first instance of Zolf grabbing Wilde by the collar changes. (This happens on the Vengeance after Zolf has taught Wilde to steer the ship). Zolf drags Wilde down to say “I’m glad to see you perked up.” That moment now involves a whiskery kiss on Wilde’s cheek, and the man would be absolutely FLOORED by it.

I’m talking slow-mo glittering lights as Zolf stomps off blushing, unsure what just came over him; Wilde touches his cheek in bewilderment for a stretched moment before realising he’s completely agog, and he let go of the wheel for a dangerous length of time. Every interaction, every moment they’ve spent together over the last two years is flashing before Wilde’s eyes and a new context is being applied rapid fire. I’m talking the italacised oh kind of moment.

(on top of Zolf being witness to The Betrayal, throw some other moments of almost-intimacy into said flashbacks. I’m talking late nights, Zolf doing his gruff-yet-kind caretaker thing, cooking for Wilde, maybe sharing quiet and rare downtime with Zolf reading a Campbell novel on a couch in Wilde’s office)

Wilde is realising, “Oh this is allowed, oh this is reciprocated, this is possible.”

And of course they don’t talk about it, because what’s a slowburn if they immediately go and TALK about their feelings? No, the kiss goes completely unremarked upon, and Wilde continues to needle and tease and get under Zolf’s skin, except now with an added warmth in his eyes because he finally gets it. He finally understands that Zolf cares, that Zolf loves him, he’s just not the kind of dwarf that knows how to express it.

And Zolf, frustrated by feelings he can’t express but is beginning to understand, can hear the undertone of “haha, you looooove me,” shining through Wilde’s deliberate antagonism. They continue their time on the Vengeance just a little easier and closer to one another.

And we continue on to the death/resurrection arc, and Wilde’s spirit pushes for Zolf to open up about his feelings, because if not when he’s literally past death’s door, then when? When Zolf finally manages his “I need you,” it’s like a dam has broken for both of them. The second collar-grab and “We’ll go on a holiday or somethin’,” is now followed by a full kiss on the lips, not particularly erotic but passionate, (it’s the epitome of kissing someone to shut them up) and Wilde makes a surprised and delighted squeak that he would be glad he can’t quite remember when he returns to land of the living.

Once returned, Wilde might not remember everything that his spirit said or did, but he remembers the kiss. The comfort and ease that the two of them share in 179 (Eat Drink and Be Merry) is there, only instead of the two characters still being in a place of questioning their feelings for one another, it’s been answered.

Whether or not this relationship is sexual in nature is kind of up to you and what kind of fan works you like to read/write. I think there are wonderful scenes to be written an explored in many directions.

Wilde allowing himself to enjoy sex for intimacy and closeness instead of using it as a tool/ Zolf not being one for sex but Wilde’s never slept more soundly than when he’s being held in Zolf’s arms/ Zolf realising that the unfamiliar feeling he’s been struggling to express is the desire to rail Wilde til he cries/ Wilde realising that if his partner doesn’t want it from him, he’s actually quite content without sex/ The two of them being mean, antagonistic bastards to each other while fucking but Make It Kink (of the trusting and RACK kind). There really isn’t a single bad interpretation.

So really, I’m not doing anything different with them other than reading between the lines, giving canon a little nudge, and sticking the landing. This isn’t to disparage the concept of queer platonic partners. (I’ve got one!) or to talk shit about Ben or Alex (I DO respect their craft).

It’s just to say I find these two characters , and everything they’ve been through, PAINFULLY romantic, tropey, and delightful. I’m looking forward both to how Ben and Alex play the QPP, the fanworks I’m gonna read and hopefully write, and the inevitable tragedy that you KNOW Alex is gearing up for.

#zoscar #zolfwilde #RQG #rusty quill gaming #zolf smith #RQG Oscar Wilde #hank talks #rqg podcast #rqg meta #feel free to reblog #and to talk to me about it

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yostresswritinggirl · 4 years ago

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One of the first few girls I'll ever write in here wobdoswsn- I'm going on my base knowledge of Jean here and it's not gonna be a pretty start, mind you. I don't ship characters really but I see the dynamic in this one, honestly one of the fics that are easiest to write for me. Also I just realized how many poly asks are there aodhsosnxons—

Chivalry Isn't Dead

Poly Relationship Scenarios with You, Jean and Diluc!

Background (How It Started)

You are a knight in Ordo Favonius, the place where you met Jean and Diluc for the first time. You were there when they both started and you were also there when they ascended to be the Dandelion Knight and the Cavalry Captain.

You became close first with the captain, the first one you've met between them, because of the fact that you were under his unit. Back then he was very open and close with you, teaching you and making sure you were intact.

When Jean ascended, that's when she found out about you due to the nature of her work as one of the higher-ups. She found you so endearing with your whole-hearted desire to secure Mondstadt.

Jean knew about Diluc for a while now due to his status as one of the youngest to ascend in Captain hood and how their work was closely aligned, and they both collaborate with their silent oaths to protect you. The trio of you are VERY confused over your own feelings, wondering what exactly this entails or which one would you have to choose.

In the span of that mulling, you three had become very close due to your intervention, the glue that keeps you all together literally. You're very physical when you're dealing with people you consider very close, and the both of them always melt upon your embrace.

Between the both of them was light-hearted competition on who can make you feel safer, protect you better. And you are ever so dense over their friendly banter, and the sexual tension between them.

When Diluc left the knights, you had been under the comfort and command of Jean instead, taking your place away from the Cavalry unit to be those of the stationary knights to assist her after she became the Acting Grandmaster. You were devastated over his disappearance the most due to your closeness and Jean was the only person who could keep you sane.

The relationship starts in that period with you and Jean as the first set of couples.

When Diluc came back, his relationship with Jean became estranged and yet there was still a hint of comfort when he was under your presence. Jean was a bit devastated at their new status quo as she had come into terms of her feelings about him during his leave.

You spent most of your time then trying to get close to Diluc again and his feelings came back tenfold, making him finally confess. In front of you and Jean. the tension was thick when Jean finally caught her breath to inform Diluc of your relationship with her.

Horrified yet still adamant, Diluc stood his ground and looked at you both, millions of emotions flashing through his red irises. Jean looked at him longingly and of the old memories they shared protecting you. And you... were trying to understand why you desire them both in the same level.

Your honesty over the situation suddenly opened up the idea of polyamory and it seems that despite the tension between the two ex/knights, with you as their mediator and lover, they were willing to try or wait until you choose only one of them.

Spoilers: You chose both in the end.

How The Relationship Goes

While things go nicely between you and the other two, when it comes to them alone it was... weird. You pretty much carry the triangle here as they were both wary of displaying affection with each other, and most of it has to do with the reputation they have to uphold.

Jean protects you at day, Diluc makes sure you're safe at night. The nature of their work had you evenly split between the both of them and you three chance a fully present meet up by evening when Diluc is still on his shift and Jean has finished her work early.

Speaking of, you and Diluc fret over Jean's overworking albeit different in approach. Diluc would be brash about his opinion, calling her out while still offering materials that may help ever so subtly. While you are more adamant, sometimes dragging her off her seat and you taking over her work while she rests on the couch.

Since her work correlates with yours, you always put double the effort to help her with commissions to make sure it gets cut faster. This sometimes backfires with the both of you overworked, a disappointed Diluc pulling you both to the Winery to relax by the fireplace without the scandalous rumors sparking.

When you show physical affection Jean, she always reciprocates it the best she can, happily granting you attention and letting you cling to her during work. Your presence grounds her, relaxing her at the same time with your bouts of comfort.

When you indulge Diluc with affection, he's stoic and cross armed usually. Because of the nature of his work at the tavern, giving him some loving would need to be done while he works or not at all. The customers would find you behind the counter, clinging to his waist as Diluc serves the drinks nonchalantly, sometimes he wears glare if people were about to comment on it and that usually shuts them up.

Behind closed doors however the Ragnvindr indulges you too with his affection, still stoic but reciprocal, the rarity of it making it the more precious.

Dates RARELY happen between you three because of the fully loaded schedule all three of you have. It only ever happens when you all suddenly have free time or you cry about it.

The both of them spoil you a lot more than you'd realize. Diluc gifts you and Jean materialistically, while yours were small trinkets, Jean's are more for functionality or items that had slipped past her lips once of which Diluc remembers.

Sugar daddy Diluc for the both of you, motherly Jean in retaliation, and you're just their precious darling that will never be hurt under their supervision.

In time, Diluc and Jean would end up getting closer but still behind closed doors for safety. It was only ever you that's so shameless to pour out affection in full display and these two are too intoxicated by your love to pull you away.

During daytime on a weirdly usual occassions the people of Mond frequently spots your trio strolling hand-in-hand around the city, lively chatter about anything and everything before going back to your stuffy workspaces. Diluc would part a few feet away from the headquarters with a kiss on the head for you two. And when he turns back, you and Jean would giggle to yourselves before going to work.

Bonus: Diluc has asked for a professional painter to paint you and Jean, said canvas hanging at his office in the Winery. Jean has a Kamera photo of you three by her office too. And you have them both in a locket.

As Leverage

Your highly advantageous position to garner the heart of not only the Acting Grandmaster's but also the holder of the wine tycoon (and Darknight Hero) had made you a target for many lecherous beings.

While those with mind do not outright take you away, opting to trying to get to your good side as leverage, there are rascals like the Abyss Order who just does what they want and can.

The moment you disappear, both of them are immediately alerted due to their schedules coinciding with yours. And with your kidnapping, they too slip into the shadows, never to return for days.

It was one of the scarce moments that Diluc and Jean are in perfect sync, knowing each other's plans and next move, falling into each other's pace as they carefully concoct their plan for your retrieval.

Jean would definitely cry. As she was the one who mostly basks in your presence, there are many parts of her breakdown that comes to play: the heavy work left behind, your comforting presence that keeps her alive, and the fact that she lost you when she's supposed to keep an eye on you as per silent agreement with Diluc.

She'd cry at him, telling him she's sorry for being careless, and Diluc would comfort her in his arms without ending up as broken as her. This moment had established a bond between them that would be a solid foundation to your triangle, but also a better understanding of how important you are to them.

You disappear three days maximum with how quick and smart they are about the kidnapping.

Abyss Mages were almost forgotten with how quiet they suddenly got after that incident. That massacre.

While traumatized, you are also more than happy to see the newfound closeness between your lovers, as you melt into their tight cuddles after rescuing you.

There may or may not be talks of plans about you and Jean moving in the Winery officially.

Ugh, so cute!!! my bi ass was on full blast here-

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel

#genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #jean x reader #genshin impact #exile.goblet #exile.flower #genshin impact headcanons #sojourner specials #hhhhhh #cute #gender neutral

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90363462 · 2 years ago

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Westend61/Getty Images

7 Ways To Establish A Mental Connection Long Before You Enter The Bedroom

I love dick but I love an emotional connection more.

Ashley Cobb

Oct. 14, 2022 02:00PM EST

I am not a casual sex type of person. I love dick but I love an emotional connection more. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve tried it once or twice but ultimately sex is better when I have a connection–the penis just feels better. However, pop culture would have you believe that when you meet someone, it’s automatic lust at first sight. You’re supposed to not be able to keep your hands off of each other due to all the sexual tension. Well in reality, especially in my life, that’s not how it works. I need a little more than physical attraction to get my juices flowing.

As a sex expert, I’ve found that most women, more often than not need a connection before penetration. It’s just how we are hardwired. The sexual response cycle for men and women is totally different. Generally, before a woman can get aroused, she has to experience desire. For most men, all it takes is a little visual stimulation, and boom. In fact, most men don’t need to feel an emotional connection at all in order to have sex; all they need is a warm hole. Do with that information what you will. But, women on the other hand tend to feel sexual desire once the emotional connection is formed.

Building an emotional connection can lead to better sexual experiences. Emotional intimacy helps stimulate oxytocin, the love hormone, which creates trust and vulnerability. A study published in American Sociological Review found that heterosexual college women have orgasms more often in relationships than in hookups. Most women value safety, in all aspects of their lives. When I feel safe and comfortable with someone, I’m more likely to take risks and explore new things. I'm also more willing to share my inner thoughts, desires, and fantasies within a safe space.

Knowing one another on an emotional level can help build mutual respect. Having mutual respect means you value your partner and consider their thoughts and feelings. Being shown respect l builds appreciation and appreciation builds connection. It’s important to keep in mind that building emotional intimacy takes time and work.

Being vulnerable can be scary and uncomfortable. But here are some helpful tips you can use to help deepen the bond with your partner while making it less awkward.

1.Open and Honest Communication To Build Trust

Communication is the key to all levels of intimacy. Most women like to communicate, especially about feelings. Sharing about each other’s day and about what’s happening in each other’s life helps women feel more emotionally connected. Try having a conversation before sex. If you want to relate to each other on a deeper level, you'll need to open up and let your partner experience your hopes, fears, dreams, and vulnerabilities.

Also, pillow talk sessions are a great way to build emotional connections after sex. Researchers found that people who spend more time on post-sex affection—like cuddling, kissing, caressing, spooning, or expressing their love for each other—are more satisfied in their relationships and feel more sexually satisfied.

2.Learn Each Other's Love Language

Gary Chapman the author of the popular book, The 5 Love Languages came up with five general ways that romantic partners express and experience love. The five ways we experience love are through Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Receiving Gifts, Quality Time, and Physical Touch. Oftentimes we assume that our partner wants to receive love in the same way that we do, and this can lead to frustration and disappointment.

If your partner’s love language is quality time but you are too busy working and keep buying them expensive gifts instead, they aren’t going to feel connected to you. Learning how our partner receives love builds connection.

3.Kisses, Kisses and More Kisses

A 2013 study in the Archives of Sexual Behavior reported that frequent kissing is correlated with a couple’s perception of the quality of their relationship and specifically, the more kissing there is, the higher levels of happiness that are reported. Kissing usually is the first thing to take place before engaging in other sexual activity. It helps you decide your sexual compatibility and desire for this person before sex and gives you more time to build up that sexual anticipation.

However, kissing can start fading the longer a relationship goes. One study found that 1 in 5 couples don’t even kiss at all. So, try to incorporate kissing throughout the day and during sex as a way to build a connection.

4.Explore Sensuality Without the Goal of Orgasm

Take time to explore each other’s bodies and fantasies without orgasm being the only goal. By taking your time, you will learn to appreciate each other more on both an emotional and physical level. Good communication will come in handy when discussing what ways you like to engage in foreplay and what ways don’t get you as turned on. Think about and enjoy what you are experiencing and how you might give pleasure to your partner in return.

5.Be Friends First

Friendship is at the core of any strong relationship. Research has shown that friendship in a relationship is an important indicator of both romantic and physical satisfaction. Couples who are friends report higher levels of happiness in their relationships than couples who aren’t. Get back to being friends by having fun and being playful. Having fun can be as simple as laughing at each other's jokes or leaving each other silly notes.

6.Share Experiences

Doing things…together…is important. Even if it’s just binging on Netflix next to each other on the couch, have shared experiences in your week. Whatever it is that you and your partner like to do, do it together as a simple way to build a stronger connection in a relationship. If you live completely separate lives you’re not going to be very connected with each other. Shared experiences bring partners closer.

7.Show Empathy and Sympathy

One of the most important things partners can do for each other provides empathy and understanding. Empathy means relating to your partner's feelings and making them feel understood, which helps validate your partner's feelings and gives comfort. When things are tough, expressing empathy or sympathy helps your partner understand how valuable the bond is that they share with you. They learn to appreciate your feelings and often reciprocate too.

Let’s make things inbox official! Sign up for the xoNecole newsletter for daily love, wellness, career, and exclusive content delivered straight to your inbox.

Featured image by Westend61/Getty Images

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astro-rain · 4 years ago

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delicate; b.barnes

chapter nineteen - “tomorrow”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.8k

synopsis: reader is faced with a very distressing ultimatum and has to deal with the consequences.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

authors note: omg pls listen to “water under the bridge” by adele after reading this it’s fits so well

Muted. She felt muted - but not necessarily in a bad way. Everything in her was dialed down and dulled. Over the last couple days, Y/N had toned down her emotions, feeling less. Call it a coping skill. Call it a stress response. Whatever. It wasn't like she was sad about it. In a way, in was comforting - not having some overwhelming internal angst.

It had been a week since that fight she and Bucky got into. The mature part of her was telling her to find him and talk it out like the adults they were. But here's the thing. Over time, before they even had the fight, the number of therapy sessions they were having was less frequent as his treatment was improving. The sessions were more intermittent now, and there wasn't one scheduled for a while. Until then, she felt no desire to talk to him.

Was she mad? Sad? She wasn't sure. She just avoided thinking of things that caused her a considerable amount of distress. At this particular moment in time, Bucky was one of those things. Ergo, she made a constant effort to ignore all thoughts of him.

Though, she somehow couldn't entirely ignore the ever present lack of... Bucky. She had gotten so used to having him close by, used to having someone to talk to, laugh with. His proximity had become a constant. A comfort. She refused to admit to herself that silence didn't feel like silence anymore; it just felt like the absence of his voice.

She found she needed to keep herself busy.

Bucky handled it a bit differently. He had lots of intense emotions but he didn't mute them, per say. He didn't ignore them. He felt them, he definitely felt them. He just kept them bottled up inside and talked about it to no one. It was a very strange change of routine. Whenever he had some sort of emotional turmoil, he would always go to her - therapy session or not - to vent, rant, ask for advice, or just talk through a stream of consciousness. Now he just had to sit with it.

He spent most of his time alone. He missed her.

"Hey Shuri," Y/N greeted as she entered the princess' lab.

"Hello," Shuri smiled. "Come sit."

This wasn't a routine visit. Shuri mentioned wanting to talk about something else this time. Something important. She was reminded of this when she walked in to find two Doras sitting with Shuri at a lab table.

"So," Shuri started, "The trigger word experiment. We're here to discuss safety and security."

Shit. That awful thing. It had slipped her mind these past couple days.

"Alright. What are we thinkin'?"

"Well, the Doras don't think it would be necessary to have two of them there with you, but if you would feel safer with two, then that's fine as well."

"I think one is fine. I trust your judgment," Y/N nodded to the Doras.

And I'm not afraid of Bucky, she thought but didn't say.

"We also have a special location to run the experiment," one of the Doras, Ayo, added. "Away from people and secluded in the case of an emergency."

"Okay. That sounds good."

"We understand Barnes is now equipped with the vibranium arm, yes?" Shuri asked.

"Yes, he is."

"Then you need to know something for the experiment."

Y/N's brows furrowed, confused. Was she missing something?

"There's sort of a fail safe built into the arm," Shuri began.

Fail safe?

"There are a series of pressure points when, if hit correctly, will disengage the arm. It will just drop to the ground. So if anything were to happen-"

"I'm sorry, what?"

The expression on Shuri's face changed immediately when she heard her partner's tone. Y/N looked bewildered and almost in disbelief.

"It's there as a precaution in case Barnes needs to be put in check."

Suddenly, every emotion she had been "muting" rushed back into her head. Every feeling for Bucky returned, as well as her compulsion to protect him.

"Building that into the arm shows a complete lack of trust."

"You know what HYDRA did. It's unpredictable, and I'm sorry but we just can't be sure."

"We need to be careful with this so it doesn't blow up in our faces," Ayo said.

"I understand having that precaution for this test, I do. But it isn't just this test. Given it was successful and everything worked out, he was supposed to keep the arm. Right?"

"Right."

"So we fix the HYDRA programming and he's free, but leave the 'fail safe' in so after all of this, he still has someone in control of him."

"The arm is a gift," Ayo stated. "He should be happy he has it at all."

"I understand that, and believe me, he is so grateful. But a gift is for someone else to keep and use as their own. How are we supposed to help him and work with him for months, building trust and aiding him in healing to just tarnish all of that with deception?"

"It's what's best for the protection of all."

"Even after the experiment if it's successful?" Y/N cried in disbelief. "I should say when it's successful. Shuri, I've been seeing his progress for months and working with you on his neurobiology data. Can't you tell how much skill has been put into this? It's us. It's going to work."

"Even still."

"I can't stand for that. I would understand if it was just for this test, but after? We haven't come this far just to not trust our own work and Bucky's deprogramming. He deserves to have someone on his side."

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but it's already been done. The arm is already built and being used."

"This is the plan," Ayo declared. "Either you are on board, or you are free to leave Wakanda. We can fly you out as soon as tomorrow morning."

"I can't knowingly be a part of this. It's wrong."

"As I said. Free to leave."

She refused to be a willing participant in perpetuating the loss of Bucky's autonomy. He's been through enough, had enough taken from him. She would not play a single role in taking more away.

"I guess I have to go then," she said, standing from her chair.

She couldn't believe the words coming from her own mouth.

Shuri sighed. "That's very unfortunate, my partner. I'm sorry we couldn't agree on this."

"I am, too. But please. Please consider what this will do to him. It's like saying 'even though we've all been working with you, we don't actually believe that you're not still a weapon.' What is he supposed to think of that?"

"Barnes isn't going to have to think anything about it..."

"...because he isn't going to know," Ayo finished the thought.

"No..."

"It's the way it has to be."

"No it's not."

"Y/N..."

She took a couple steps back, preparing to leave the room. "No, I'm sorry. I can't. He needs to know. I'm going to have to tell him."

"I'd advise against it if you care about your job," called an unfamiliar voice.

Y/N turned to the other Dora, whom she didn't know.

"What?"

"What would your employers think if they knew their doctor had certain... inappropriate relations with a patient? And a very infamous one at that."

She froze, face burning. Her stomach dropped and her breathing stopped dead.

Did they-? Who else-? How did they-? What did they-?

She couldn't form a single coherent thought.

"You are more than free to leave quietly, without any worries" said the Dora, "but if Barnes knows about this, you can be sure that the rest of the world will know about you and your... relations."

It was then when she could feel almost every piece of her world come crashing down. She could feel every test she took, every research project she was a part of, every hour she spent studying for the career that took years to build. The thing she was most proud in this world, the part of herself she most loved. She felt the job she loved and all the things she had learned and accomplished begin to crumble around her.

This career... it was her life. It was her passion. It was all she had. Now she was in immediate danger of losing it. All she could process was fear; she shut down.

Finally, she managed words.

"Okay," she conceded, her defeated voice barely above a whisper. "I'll go... quietly. I'm sorry."

With that, she turned around and took the remaining steps out of the now silent room.

- - -

When she was in the hallway, she felt like she was dying. The guilt was overwhelming. How could she betray him like this? She tried to fight for Bucky to get the truth and now she has to hide it from him and leave him. She has to lie to him.

Y/N was still in shock, completely immersed in her own fear. It felt as if she wasn't in her body. She knew she was moving - walking down the hallway. But her body was just on autopilot; she was gone.

She couldn't tell if she was crying but she could feel a twinging in her eyes and a burning in her nose. She was also hardly breathing so if she was crying, it was nearly silent.

In a faraway echo, she thought she heard her own footsteps. She wasn't sure where they were taking her, but she wasn't sure if she cared.

She walked, and she kept on walking for a long time. She could feel the ache in her feet once she sat down in front of the water. She hadn't planned to go to the waterfall - that waterfall... their waterfall. It just sort of happened. Perhaps it was a long enough distance away to feel safe.

She finally let herself think for a moment.

What the fuck had just happened? Her exact fears had come to be. Somehow, someone saw or figured out her and Bucky. It felt worse than she thought it would. Exposed. Embarrassed. Guilty. Humiliated. Distressed.

It was numbing. So numbing that she stared at the little pool and let the white noise of the waterfall clog her ears until she was able to lose track of time.

She had no idea how long it had been when he approached her.

"Y/N!" Bucky's voice called as he jogged over after catching sight of her. "I've been looking for you! Can we please talk?"

His voice snapped her out of it, but her gaze remained fixed on the water in front of her. She wasn't sure what to do, how to engage with him; she froze.

When she didn't even turn her head, Bucky guessed she was still upset with him. He didn't want to be a bother, but he needed to talk to her. He sat down right next to her.

"Okay..." he started, carefully. "I know things aren't great between us right now, but-"

She turned her head to him and the words died in his throat when he saw her face: bloodshot, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. He forgot whatever he was going to say, cupping both sides of her face.

"Oh my god, what happened!? A-Are you alright?"

The cool metal of his hand on her cheek made her want to scream, reminding her of what she could not tell him. Reminding her of the searing guilt. Trembling hands reached up to touch his arms. And then he saw the quiver in her lip.

"Oh, honey," he cooed, worried. "Hey... Hey, talk to me. Talk to me, what's wrong?"

He was so concerned and so sweet even after they had a huge blowout. If possible, it made her feel even worse. She didn't deserve his kindness anymore. She just stared into him with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen.

Bucky had never seen her like this and he was scared. Was it because of him and their fight? He supposed so. What else could it have been?

"I'm so sorry, please don't cry," he caressed the back of her head with one hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of what I said, I was just mad. You were right. I feel awful, I had no idea it upset you this much."

Their fight was the very last thing on her mind. Looking back on it, it seemed like such a trivial thing compared to now. But he thought this was his fault. She wanted to break into a million tiny pieces and let the wind blow her away.

She shook her head. "Bucky, no. It's not that. It's not you."

He looked so confused. She felt so bad.

"Then what... what's wrong?"

"I'm leaving."

Bucky leaned back, perplexed, and his hands slid down to rest on her forearms. "Leaving? You're leaving Wakanda?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, hey- You don't have to leave. We can figure something out. We were too risky, you were right. I understand that now. We don't have to do that anymore. We can make sure that we're always completely in private from here on out."

She shook her head, staring down at the grass below her. "I'm sorry, I can't... I can't do that. I have to leave."

She could barely look him in the face.

"You don't, it's okay," he implored. "I know it worried you, but it really only was Steve. And I know, I know it could have been anyone and I get that. I thought about it, and I get it. We don't ever have to... sleep together... again. We won't be distracted, and-and we'll be careful."

She clenched her eyes shut, trying not to let her burning eyes release more tears. It didn't work.

"Bucky..."

"Baby doll please," his voice cracked while he tipped her chin up to meet her eyes again. "We can just-... we can just go back to the way it was before. In the very beginning. We can- we'll only see each other in sessions, we don't-... No more lake trips or all-nighters or anything just-"

He sharply inhaled, beginning to ramble as his breath became unsteady.

His voice shook just slightly. "You can barely even talk to me if you don't want to- just please don't go..."

She thought a part of her cracked and died at that moment. She sprung forward and held him as tight as she could. Instinctively one of Bucky's arms was around her back and the other cradled the back of her head.

She thought maybe if she held tight enough, she could keep them together and she wouldn't have to leave him there alone. Of course he would be fine, but he would spend the rest of his time feeling like it was his fault that she had gone.

She couldn't let him think this was his fault.

"Buck, I don't wanna leave you. But I have to do what's best for the both of us. You'll be just fine without me. I promise."

He didn't think so.

"I'm putting your treatment and my career in jeopardy if I stay," she continued. "I just don't want anything bad to happen to either of us. I'm sorry if you hate this and I'm sorry if you hate me for doing it."

He mumbled something in the crook of her neck, but she couldn't hear it. She pulled back from the embrace.

"What?"

"I could never hate you."

Despite the fact that she was so internally distraught, despite what happened with Shuri and the Doras, with having to tell Bucky she was going to leave him, with having to watch him beg her to stay, despite the extreme dread and guilt within her, she still looked at him and felt so much love.

She was doing the very thing he feared and all he could do was care for her.

"God, I'm gonna miss you," she breathed before grasping his jaw, and pulling his head to hers.

Bucky tasted salt and he couldn't tell if it was his or her tears mixing into their lips.

As much as he wanted her to stay, he could sense how serious she was about this. He wouldn't be able to convince her to stay even if he tried. And he already did.

He could only soak up as much of her as he could before she left, and be with her until she had to go. He had no idea how much time he had. Wait-

"When are you leaving?" he broke the kiss as soon as the thought arose.

She was silent for a moment when another tear dripped down her face. "Tomorrow."

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flickeringart · 4 years ago

Text

Virgo Sun and Moon Combinations

Planets represent different energetic principals in the life of an individual – the signs show what filter these energies express through.

Having an inner planet (or luminary) in the sign of Virgo gives the personality a shrewd, analytical quality. No matter what other placements the person has, the methodical and adaptive nature is going to come through.

To simplify;

The Sun represents individuation, ideal self-expression and conscious self-actualization.

The Moon represents instinct, emotional nature and personal needs.

Virgo Sun – Aquarius Moon

This person’s path of individuation involves coming to understand the components of physical life as intimately as possible. This means that a sense of self is found through in depth observation of what works and doesn’t work in terms of handling everyday life. A lot of emphasis should be put on following the empirical trail of cause and effect, but not to establish a deterministic view that life is fundamentally working like a wound up toy and that there’s no free will. The person should seek to understand life in order to work with it in order to gain a sense of autonomy. Emphasis should be put on attempting to do the right thing in terms of carrying out behavior. The emotional temperament is quite level, not too dramatic unless it is to prove a point or initiate change. The instinct is to understand one’s own needs on an intellectual level and relate to them as abstractions, as phenomena of the human condition. There’s likely a strong urge for independence and self-possession in this person. Being dominated and disrespected would be the worst, especially since there’s an idealistic streak to the temperament. Behaving in a way that fails to indicate that certain essential humanitarian values are in place makes this person’s skin crawl. The person needs space in relationships more than anything – being burdened by too much confusion or chaos doesn’t work well. Some people are comfortable with intensely personal experiences, which is not the case for this person. There has to be space around everything that is experienced, a kind of detachment from the up close and personal. One could probably navigate any terrain as long as one wasn’t “in it” completely. Change is always felt to be possible to this individual. The mind or the “soul” has to be held in the greatest esteem as to not let it be tainted by the limited and temporary. Although the temperament is idealistic, the path of selfhood is more concerned with the realistic. It’s concerned with the resources and conscious cultivation of health on a practical level. In many ways, this combo lends itself well to living in alignment with convictions while remaining open to reconsidering and redoing things in order to improve well-being. The fixed temperament stabilizes the personality while there’s a continuous striving to become more nuanced and flexible as part of the individuation process. Overall, there’s the potential to be of true service in the world, and to show an ethical and liberal disposition. One should be cautious of the tendency to become obsessed with perfection in oneself and other people to the point of detriment. It’s good to have high standards but they shouldn’t become a burden.

Virgo Sun – Taurus Moon

The person would strive to develop the observational and analytical faculties throughout life while being temperamentally suited for the long-term grind. A stable and functional base of material safety is sought first and foremost to meet the personal needs. As it relates to individuation, there’s more of an emphasis on curiosity and processing information rather than merely settling into a comfortable life. The person would find a sense of selfhood through caring about organizing and structuring things and to make it work practically. Usually there’s a lot of reassessing and adjusting that is going to be part of the person’s life path. The intellect is supposed to be sharpened and put to use as to facilitate a smooth process of living. The emotional nature is quite compatible with what the definition of the ideal self, which makes it so that there’s not tug between potential and innate temperament. The overall personality is earth based, which comes with all the positive qualities of practicality, duty, good work ethic, patience, stability and serenity. On the flip side, there are the negative qualities of stagnancy, blind stubbornness and avoidance of change. The more the person self-actualizes, the more flexibility and adaptability is going to show. The innate temperament is quite fixed and reliable in that the person will instinctually gravitate toward what’s familiar and constant. Too much unpredictability and uncertainty makes the person worried and anxious. The person needs to know that he or she owns things permanently and be reassured that some things aren’t going to alter with time. There’s a need for permanence that has to be considered and met. Physical comfort is extremely important and should not be overlooked. Fortunately, this is also part of what it means to be stepping into one’s identity. To organize the physical components of one’s life situation and to make them work in harmony as to secure overall health and well-being. It’s important to not fall into the trap of micro managing everything and cultivating a sound judgment on what is worth obsessing about and what is not. With a double earth combo it’s advisable to not become too dogmatic and fixated on ritual. It’s easier said than done, because it’s true that the routines that we stick to can make or break us, get us to where we want or in the opposite direction. It’s good to attempt to take a more broad perspective and detach from the outcome enough to not be blinded by the fear of not doing things right. Life has it’s own invisible intelligence and not everything depends on us being on top of things in order to prevent disaster.

Virgo Sun – Scorpio Moon

The person strives to be self-reliant, methodical and reasonable. The person is set on a path of self-sufficiency and a path of acquiring skillsets that are useful. The person should strive to anchor his or her life in service – being receptive to what any given situation calls for in terms of adjustment. That which can be done should be done in this person’s opinion - it should be done with humility and genuine desire to be of assistance. Virgo Suns are people who strive to better themselves, to facilitate and make way for the optimal expression of life. This requires openness and discernment as well as good observational ability. In combo with a Scorpio Moon, the personality is set up for laser sharp focus. The emotional nature is intensely linked to the person’s individual self; everything that is felt is taken personally. The person is quick to spot threat and very careful to let people in. Vulnerability is guarded carefully. One might be prone to quickly be triggered into defense mode and as a result, attack or isolate in order to cope. The person is probably afraid of their own ability to feel and afraid of other people’s ignorance and lack of awareness. There’s usually a lot of pent up anger, or more accurately – rage. There’s not much that this person forgets because there’s the experience of being permanently damaged by things. Emotions are given enormous importance and are not just something one goes through. It is who one is on an innate, instinctual level. For this reason it becomes very important to this type of individual to control emotions because they are so intense and fearful. This can become a vicious cycle because the more rigid and controlling one becomes, the more the emotions are suppressed and allowed to fester. The analytical Virgo identity might try to rationally deal with the inexplicable intensity, trying to make sense of things intellectually. Sometimes this works and sometimes it doesn’t because the conscious mind can only brush the surface of what is going on most of the time. However, with this combo it seems like practical skills will have to be developed in order to navigate the emotional climate. The person may go through daily deaths and rebirths; feelings of being in control and out of control yet there’s probably a deep need to transcend all of it. There could be a lot of dabbing in the mysteries of life, the underpinnings of reality. This combo likely produces a reserved individual that has a strong magnetism and shrewd judgment. The person would strive to look put together and impeccable – strive to have an eye for the details and technicalities of things. No doubt the person would come off as intimidating because of the secretive and intense vibe, not to mention the proclivity to be critical and realistic. There would also be the impression of strength and efficiency on the more positive end of the bargain.

Virgo Sun – Leo Moon

The practical busybody is combined with an open display of emotion. This combo could be a person who is concerned with making things work practically while needing to get recognition and attention for it. These signs together present a bit of a paradox because Virgo is the humble servant and Leo is the divine child. The person strives to be of service – to be someone who is self-possessed and willing to be put to use in the world to serve. The personal temperament on the other hand is dramatic and big – one wants to be treated as someone special, someone who is talented and worthy of admiration. The person might experience a disharmony within relative to these distinctly different pulls if one hasn’t worked out a way to make room for them both yet. If the need for appreciation isn’t met, the person might turn sulky, bitter and resentful. There might be an attempt to create drama or inflate the emotional experiences in order to make people take notice of the inner experiences. Leo Moon can be the epitome of a drama queen, as it tends to blow things up in order to enhance a sense of significance. However, the Virgo ideal is not on board with any of the drama and disarray. A solar Virgo wants to actualize qualities of proper conduct and proper living. This usually doesn’t include exaggeration or unnecessary demonstrations of one’s worth. In Virgo’s mind people should know their worth, not resort to “shameful” self-expression and self-centeredness. One’s worth is shown through diligence and intelligence in the way one handles life. There’s more of a respectful approach to Virgo, although the person might slip-up in moments of stress and become overly critical of the environment and of other people. In general the person has high standards and could turn sour if other people get more love (attention) and rewards for their work and efforts. The person can’t stand not being given their due – even if one probably claims that “it doesn’t matter”. The key is, of course, to not focus so much on others and focus in on one’s own uniqueness and talents. One doesn’t have to prove or compare oneself to other’s so called “success” - it never really works. It’s wise to hone in on what makes one feel strong and important, on what generates confidence and steer one’s thoughts and actions in that direction. The path of self-actualization is to develop useful skills in order to serve life and to serve the self. The lunar needs will benefit greatly from the confidence boost of “being good at something” which might lead to less friction felt on an emotional level. Acquiring skills will make the person feel worthwhile and of value to others and the self.

Virgo Sun – Libra Moon

The orderly and detail oriented ideal self is combined with a relationship- oriented temperament. This combo is the definition of “perfection” or “pleasantness” because the person is preoccupied with other people and creating social harmony while striving to be humble and put-together. The person probably has an exceptionally likable air. There’s probably an innocence that is unmistakable that stems from a need for harmony and an ideal of orderliness. On a temperamental level, the person needs to be liked and will do anything to gain other people’s approval. This is not done by down right agreeing with everything other people think - it’s done through skillful diplomacy, of defending an ideal of fairness at all costs. Friction is unbearable to this person and there’s always an attempt to make it go away by adjusting and modifying. There’s sensitivity to roughness because the person craves the light and easy more than anything. Overall the personality is very unsuited for coarse and “less than civilized” behavior. The person is set on perfection when it comes to planning, processing and relating to other people. The sensitivity to imbalance can be both a blessing and a gift. On the one hand it can make others feel judged, on the other hand it can make them feel respected and protected. There’s always a tendency with the Libra Moon to not take sides but to always side with the idea of the ideal and attempt to adjust things accordingly. The Virgo Sun doesn’t operate from an ideal but from the standpoint of what could facilitate everyday life and lead to optimal and well-rounded health. Virgo works from a standpoint of examining life and taking action according to what is practically needed in the present. The person would appreciate neat simplicity. Everything that is done should have a purpose, ideally. However, the instinctual needs might occasionally push toward indulging in pleasure for pleasure’s sake. It might not be the most practical and healthy choice that is made from this space, but there’s little risk of over doing it since it all stays within what is considered to be “right” according to a certain standard of pleasantness. Moderation would be the unconscious program this person is running on. It is accomplished by constantly checking the self to evaluate what is working and not working. The person’s ultimate fulfillment lies is adapting and adjusting to evolve and become better through trial and error.

Virgo Sun – Capricorn Moon

The process of individuation is characterized by constant improvement, of adjusting and modifying components of physical life in order for it to be purposeful. The innate temperament is concentrated, serious and restricted. There’s probably difficult for this person to let emotions flow freely without attempting to keep them in place. There’s fear of sensation getting out of hand and hindering one’s ability to keep up with one’s ambition. There’s an innate need to achieve and accomplish something tangible that will meet one’s needs but it seems to require effort and temporary deprivation. The concept of “work” is ingrained in the person. Nothing is free of charge. One can’t expect to get any true fulfillment through luck– that’s just not how the world works. One has to organize and limit the self in the right way in order to yield concrete results. Safety, comfort and satisfaction are not gained through letting things be. The base line is always misery and disorder but one can work upwardly to reach heights of joy. If anything, this kind of person has the potential for making something happen in the world of form through deliberate strategy. The Virgo Sun seeks to be of service to be genuinely helpful in terms of work while the Capricorn Moon provides an innate work ethic and a patience to see things through when the going gets rough. That being said there’s always a risk for depriving oneself too much with a Cap Moon. A lot of guilt and fear can lie at the core of motivation, making the work more destructive than constructive to the person. It’s very important to not let the concern of failure dominate one’s whole existence, although it’s easier said than done with this combo. Self-care and self-acceptance play a big role in living a happy life – without a dose of ease along the long road of life the goal won’t be worth it. With this combo there’s the proclivity for judging and critiquing excessively to the point of it becoming depressing to the self and to others. It’s not always helpful to jump in and be the fixer of everything - sometimes things don’t have to be forced, they can be trusted to work themselves out. Being busy isn’t always the most productive; sometimes space is needed to receive some clarity on how to proceed. Taking action and going to work on something is what this person is going to excel at. Assessing what a situation needs and providing it will feel wonderful because it’s in alignment with one’s ideal self. Although the emotional temperament is strained and austere, it’s deeply invested in doing what is “right” and not being too demonstrative about it.

Virgo Sun – Cancer Moon

This combo reflects a gentle and humble person that is instinctively caring and keen to be of service. There’s going to be something pure and innocent about the person, which is not to imply that one exudes weakness, merely that one is self-possessed and sensitive. The person likes to be someone who can look after him or herself, but at the same time craves to be cared for by another person. There might be a strong need for close personal relationships with a simultaneous striving to rely on one’s own capability and discernment. On the one hand, the person would like to rationally observe and think and reach conclusions on his or her own – to take action according to the gathering of facts. On the other hand there’s a tendency to come off as needy and moody, to let complaining and whining take over. A Cancer Moon is a tricky one, because it has a direction and an agenda but it won’t pursue its needs upfront. It pursues closeness through displaying sensitivity and vulnerability and appealing to people’s sympathy – not necessarily in a clingy way though. A Cancer Moon usually offers understanding and emotional support in return for being listened to. They don’t tend to judge people for feeling, but they certainly condemn that which is harsh and attacking. Instinctively, the person is defensive rather than assertive. The Virgo Sun would help to keep the person keep occupied with something concrete instead of staying stuck in protection mode. The solar Virgo always seeks solutions and answers; they aim to be resourceful and effective. More than likely the person would develop great skills to deal with overwhelm and mood swings through organizing the daily life in the right way – managing diet or routine in order to remedy the worst of it. The person would likely have an air of being “a good and decent person” without any frills or excesses. Cutting to the point of what is important and avoiding the unnecessary makes for a good life. It’s the little things that matter; the day-to-day living that is treasured the most. Being able to enjoy the ordinary is what this person does the best. Truly, the person just want to be caring and of the utmost use when it comes to their own and other people’s well being. There’s great potential for intuitively sensing what others are experiencing emotionally which blends well with the desire to be of service. This person is not only concerned with the physical but with the emotional as well – the soul has to be fed first and foremost.

Virgo Sun – Aries Moon

The ideal self is methodical and practical while the instinctual self is impulsive and assertive. There’s a lot of energy to this person that needs an outlet. There’s a thrill that’s experienced through projecting and extending energy outwardly. What this person needs is very simple, to be protruding and uncompromisingly expressive. Usually one gets away with it because it is done in such a genuine and uncalculated manner that it won’t produce long term grudges in other people. The person is very direct and forceful temperamentally, but it’s not sprung out of festering emotion. One moves on and forgets quite quickly even though things can get heated in the moment. The ideal self, as represented by the Virgo Sun, is however not entirely compatible with the instinctual Aries mode. Virgo is quietly observing and getting things done in order to purposefully put things in order. It’s deliberate and thoughtful in action and method. Nothing is left to chance because life is too important to not take seriously. There are too many components and factors that are necessary to make up a good life – the devil is in the details. The Aries temperament can unfortunately function counter to the Virgo ideal, causing a great deal of tension and frustration within the person. Instinctually, the person is not humble and doesn’t like taking advice or asking for help. One just wants to express for the sake of expressing – it doesn’t have to be perfect or profound in anyway. Emotionally the person just wants to be allowed to be direct and honest without having to modify behavior. To have to mold oneself to a social or societal standard is a nuisance because it denies the spirit within to be what it wants to be at any given moment. This combo would indicate a person who is impulsive and competitive in nature but strives to be meticulous and careful. It could become a little confusing, not only to the person in question but to others as well. On the one hand there’s a modest and analytical self that seeks to have everything in order, on the other there’s the need for letting out the force of energy because one has so much of it. When there’s too much energy that wants out it is usually a risk of being too quick or hasty as to ruin whatever one is working on. Fortunately the Virgo Sun might provide the necessary influence to take a step back and carefully assess how things should be done to produce the best results. One might have to keep in mind that physical life requires some precision not only force.

Virgo Sun – Gemini Moon

This combo makes for a mentally active and busy individual. There’s always something going on with this person, there’s restlessness and sensitivity to the environment. The person lives through the intellect – it is one’s primary tool of operating. It’s great for interacting and communicating, learning and acquiring skills but it can also be a burden. If there’s too much stimulation and an overload of information that has to be processed the person doesn’t cope well. Mental fatigue is the single biggest risk for this person. It’s very difficult to stop the mind from constantly running. The person needs to be stimulated and becomes bored if the mind is not fed “quality food” on a daily basis. The person strives to be of service, to put acquired skills to practical use. The person is probably highly esteemed because of one’s casual yet methodical approach to life. Somehow this person would always land with their feet on the ground no matter how chaotic things get. The personal process of individuation involves being resourceful and useful. Whatever the occupation and life situation, the person should hone in on the analytical and processing skills. This would be the most fulfilling, no matter the circumstance. On an instinctual level there’s less of an emphasis of putting one’s skills to use and more of an emphasis on being stimulated. In a nutshell the person simply needs to talk and write and communicate without any serious regard of the outcome. Temperamentally, the person is better suited for creative endeavors than mere methodical and systematical ones. Temperamentally, there’s a need to use the mind and freely conceptualize of things. The personal ideal however, is more deliberate and critical. The person should strive to develop a more grounded approach that is not too eccentric and fanciful. The mundane and ordinary is what stands as the ideal. Cultivating humility and a good work ethic would prove rewarding. Since both the Sun and Moon are mutable, the overall personality would be open to adapting to new situations – there’s a desire to progress and evolve with this combo. Rearranging and reinventing would be appealing. The person is very skilled at taking what’s in front of them and making it work somehow. There’s both a creative-intuitive streak and a detail-protocol- obsessive streak that can be found in this individual. There’s a bit of friction between these two modes of approaching life, but it can serve to stimulate action.

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Virgo Sun – Virgo Moon

This person is a Virgo through and through in terms of personal ideal and temperament. Daily routine and self-sufficiency would not only be what is sought as an ideal but what is deeply needed for this person to feel safe and emotionally fulfilled. There would be an urge to exude capability and intelligence, a need to be on top of everything that has to be done to secure the order of physical components. This is a person that can be trusted with making sure that nothing has been overlooked or missed in the process of organizing or putting together something important. On the downside, the meticulous and detail-oriented disposition can result in the person being tightly wound and stressed. The most important thing is to keep things simple and to the point, which of course requires a whole lot of sorting through the irrelevant details of life to get to the important bits. There’s no end to the process of discerning and adjusting. Other people might be extremely appreciative of the honest and humble quest for order and correctness, but they would not be as appreciative of the critical and nit-picky tendencies. Virgos are very observant and nothing escapes their scrutinizing eyes. This would not only be intimidating to others but it could become a burden to the person in question as well. The act of judging and labeling in order to make sense of things makes for a tense atmosphere with no room for mistakes. The person should take care as to not intellectualize and analyze everything because it leaves no room for freedom of movement and spontaneity. The desire to have everything be perfect is not always beneficial because it allows for no relaxation and trust in life. Having to monitor and control everything only leads to more and more problems to manage. Some things are out of one’s control and one can’t be efficient to the point of nothing ever going wrong. Of course, this doesn’t mean that it’s not worth trying. With this combo there will be a perfectionistic tendency present whether one likes it or not. The person would be well suited to work with something that requires refined skills and a sharp intellect. One would do well with things that can’t be left to chance, that depends on accurate observation and alertness. In relationships there might be shyness and reservation – one would prefer to talk about things that one is familiar with, that falls under one’s domain of expertise. Treading into unfamiliar territory often makes the person uneasy and insecure.

Virgo Sun – Pisces Moon

This is an interesting combo because Virgo and Pisces are opposite signs. The person’s path of individuation leans in the direction of developing skills and methods for handling physical life in a proper way while the instinctual nature is ethereal and diffuse. Emotions are constantly fluctuating and gripping the person from out of nowhere. There’s intimacy with the transient, which conjures up feelings of sorrow and being robbed of the beauty the world has to offer. Yet it is in the frailty that beauty is revealed and it touches this person deeply. Although the person feels the most like the ideal self when there’s efficiency and order present in their life, on a temperamental level there’s a longing for oneness that can border on destructiveness. There would be a strong tendency to romanticize life, to be consumed by fantasy rather in the cold and unglamorous reality of the physical. There’s a polarity conflict between the personal ideal and the personal temperament. The ideal involves practicality, usefulness and moderation while the innate nature is soft, boundless, bittersweet and resigned. The process of individuation does not accommodate for the emotional nature, which makes it so that the person has to consciously make room for both without forgetting about one or the other. It might be easy to project one or the other onto the people in one’s life because the polarity is too difficult to contain within oneself. The person might not like being described as soft-hearted even though it would probably be an accurate description. Capable, self-possessed and skillful would be traits that the person would like to be associated with. Intellectual, analytical and shrewd would be traits that resonate well with the ideal self that wants to be actualized. The person would likely be very sensitive but unwilling to openly show it or admit to feeling any powerful emotional reactions. With this combo it’s particularly important to not try to control or criticize unruly emotions too harshly because it will only enhance the inner disharmony. What can be done however is to deliberately make room for creativity and free flowing activity as to emotionally purge and process everything that is going on. Health is not only about routine, diet or exercise – it’s about being present and open to feeling life unconditionally without any attempt to fix things or put them in order. For this person it’s important to allow emotion to have a free outlet – preferably through some creative medium. Whether it’s art, music or poetry something else, there’s enormous richness that is waiting to be channeled.

Virgo Sun – Sagittarius Moon

This person has a life path of managing mundane life and perfecting methods of living while the temperamental nature is individualistic and spontaneous. This obviously presents a conflict because the path of self-actualization requires concentration and the temperament is too boisterous and freedom hungry to be bothered with tasks that require detailed knowledge. The person needs to live in a big way, on the wings of faith, yet would find that one keeps returning to the theme of living humbly and responsibly. The person would love to learn, experience the world and live without another thought of tomorrow because this is the need that sits at the core of the personal emotions. Freedom is very important; in the sense that one must feel that one has free will. This means that chores and strenuous labor must be done because one has willingly taken it on and not because someone else has demanded it. Being tied down is the worst experience. Variety is essential to this person’s well-being. If it’s withheld, there’s nothing that prevents the person from leaving the situation or stop caring about it all together. There’s a casualness and boldness to the emotional nature that will have varying effect on others. Some will appreciate the simplicity of it; some will resent the insensitivity that it entails. The Virgo ideal would temper the boldness of the Sagittarian instinct slightly because one would consciously prefer to be seen as humble and modest in expression. However, sometimes reactivity will get the best of the person and the Virgo ideal is thrown out the window. When there’s not too much emotional charge and pressure and one has space to consciously choose how to be, the Virgo qualities are going to front more easily. There’s a general proclivity for studying and learning with this combo. From the Virgo end it stems from a desire to be helpful and of service in honor of life, from the Sagittarian end it stems from a spiritual quest to understand and explore the totality of the universal self. Ultimately, the enthusiasm and inspiration that is innate to the person is fueling the ideal of dealing with physical life effectively and with confidence. The tension created between the two signs stimulates action and dynamic activity. The person is controlled and outgoing, careful and impulsive. Life is taken seriously, but it’s also just an opportunity to have fun. It would be important to make sure to not restrict the more adventurous streak of the personality too much, otherwise it might come out with force due to excessive repression. It’s much better to make room for the more instinctual needs before they make room for themselves. Certain needs, if ignored for too long, will operate unconsciously and steer life “off course”.

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moonlit-djarin · 4 years ago

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Paring: Din Djarin x Reader

Warnings: Angst, injury (not very graphic but still there), Character Death, loss/grief, mild cursing, Sad Din :(

a/n: Thanks for sticking with me as I worked this one out! The Razor Crest still exists here because I couldn’t take everything from him.

Word Count: 3.2k

The memories of waking up next to you everyday burns in the back of my head and it was all I could think about when people told me to go to my happy place but now those memories haunt me taking me to my worst place a reality without you

Calloused fingers danced over your shoulders and upper back with tenderness and care. Following the contours of you, as if they held the answers to the universe. His arms were strong, protective, and comforting. There was no place in the entire galaxy like it, no place where you would rather be.

Lost in his own thoughts, he draped his arm over your waist. His tumb caressing you hip softly, the other hand tracing circles on your shoulders. Placing kisses on your neck, he relished in the soft skin underneath him. Smiling as his actions earned a drawn out hum from your lips. This was his favorite time of day. The early morning, still innocent and hopefully of the day to come. The sun was sleeping, so was the moon and her stars. A moment of stillness holding his lover, in the suspended time of night and day, forgetting the outside world's existence.

A treasured, self indulgent moment full of love and admiration in a life full of uncertainties and ever constant danger.

The Mandalorian loved these moments to no end. Every single one. Relishing the feeling of your skin under his hands. Focusing only on you. Wishing he could capture these moments and stay in them forever, leaving the bounty hunter life behind for good. Reality harshly told him otherwise, but he could still dream. If stars could grant his wishes, his whispers upon every star, shooting or still, would not be in vain.

Shifting under the covers, your face turned to meet his. His grip loosened enough to let you shift before he pulled you in close again. Your partner in life. You cupped his cheek, kissing his lips with closed eyes. Exhaling a laugh at the sensation of his scruff tickling your lip. Mumbling a soft good morning, hesitant to let go. Afraid to never hold you again.

“ Riduur-” you breathed out softly, smiling at the whine that escaped his lips as you tried to leave his grasp. He didn’t respond but cupped your face with his free hand and kissed you again tenderly. Tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Din….” You whined shoving him away playfully, earning a chuckle from him.

“Just five more minutes cyar'ika” He breathed into your neck peppering it with more kisses. His voice still raspy, laced with sleep.

Oh how he wished he could live in that moment forever and that you never had left the safety of his arms.

Waking up with a sharp inhale, his arm reached out to the other side of the small bed. A ritual ingrained into his subconscious over time. There was no longer a warmth next to him. Blinking in confusion, his head turned to the side, expecting to see you when he turned, but you weren’t there. With a heavy sigh the Mandalorian drew back his hand, running it through his outgrown hair. The soft curls tangled and untamed. A silent testament to the time he had spent without you.

It had gone wrong so fast. Painful memories plaguing his mind, taking over the warm embrace of his most treasured memories of you.

Under the command of Moff Gideon, His improved dark troopers, a seemingly unstoppable force, had taken the child. Without hesitation you joined Din and the others on the journey to recover the foundling. You had grown just as attached to the adorable creature as he had. A hole ripped in your collective hearts as he was taken and you stood powerless on the earth, watching him disappear into the clouds. His found family had been ripped apart, if only that was the end of it.

Din knew, something was going to go wrong as soon as they arrived on Morak. A gut feeling that he carried with him the entire time on the surface. He should’ve listened to that feeling and turned around immediately. If only he knew the consequences, he would’ve found another way. Anything.

Finding the location of Moff Gideon would cost him everything.

With a breathless groan, Din pulled himself out of his tight sleeping quarters. His shoulders heavy with guilt and anxiety. He tugged off his shirt, exposing the bandage haphazardly wrapped around his ribs to the light. He took off the old gauze and grabbed the med kit to replace it. His ribs were once littered with deep purples, outlining nasty bruises and an open wound. Over time his skin began to heal. The bruises now littered with yellow and pale red at points of impact no longer bothered him. The gash was healing nicely, the poorly done stitches seemed to be doing their job. They were never as good as yours. The soreness in ribs was a lingering physical reminder of all he had lost.

The blaster went off before he saw the dark trooper standing in front of you. Crying your name in vain, he watched your knees buckle to the ground. Your hand reached for your blaster, getting one ricochet shot in before it was kicked away out of your grasp. The dark machine took your into its mechanical grip, before discarding you against the wall. Your back took most of the impact as you were thrown against it. Landing with a thud, unmoving. Blind sighted by rage, he ripped through the dark trooper holding him with ease. Letting out a guttural cry as he fought his way over to you. The distance between you was great, but not impossible. With a fight for your survival, he would stop at no lengths until you were safe. He left none alive. Taking the beskar spear in his hands, he deftly sent it through the exposed section of the one in front of you. Watching the machine fall to the side and spudder with sparks, he couldn’t move. Every muscle, bone, nerve in his body screamed at him to kneel to his riduur. Yet he stood there frozen in shock. He had been too late.

The whimper that fell off your lips, snapped him back to reality. He knelt in front of you, taking one look at you up close, his heart sank. Swallowing his panic, with shaking hands, he peeled away the bottom of your shirt to assess the damage done. Shit. His eyes flicked up to your face and his fear came true. Your eyes were glassy as you looked up at him wide with fear. He had failed to protect you. Cupping your cheek he pressed his helmet to your forehead. His voice was calm, calmer than you had ever heard it.

“Cyar'ika…” it took every fiber of him not to crack. Not to shatter under the strain. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not after all that had been taken from him. You were so close to rescuing your son. He couldn’t let you slip through his fingers. He couldn’t fail you like he failed his son.

Walking down the hallway with you weak in his arms was something he’d never be able to forget.

Gripping the doorframe, Din closed his eyes for a moment, biting back raw emotion. Selfishly remembering those mornings. The fleeting touches, gentle kisses and innocent desire of wanting more. The false sense of security, hopeful for a better day. His fingers twitched as he remembered the contours of your shoulder, hips and back under his calloused fingers. This isn’t real. This isn’t the reality he knew. No matter how many times he told himself that when he opened his eyes, he would see you wiping the sweat off his brow, telling him that it was a nightmare. He could never believe it. He knew that it wasn’t true. His eyes crinkled as he squeezed them shut, no longer in a passive innocent memory. His lip quivered as the pit reappeared. How could he have let you go. Anger filled his ever sinking stomach, making him feel sick and weak. His fist met the door frame and he snapped his eyes open. As if he was trying to contain the gravity of his defeat. Din threw the med kit on the bed. Letting it hit the mattress and bounce, the contents spilling out. He would fix that later, not now. Taking deep unsteady breaths, he ran his fingers through his hair. Clenching his jaw he stared at the empty ship, he felt hollow. As if he wasn’t truly present in the moment, still lingering between memories and reality. With heavy and reluctant steps, he made his way to and up the ladder to the cockpit. His eyes lingered too long on the chair that you used to sit next to him at. His fist tightening at its vacancy. He double checked the coordinates he had set with soft clicks of buttons. His fingers brushed the metal ball in its place with his fingers, and let his arm drop to his side with a silent nod. As he turned to leave he gripped the back of your chair with a gentle grip. As if they were your own shoulders. Giving the chair a gentle squeeze before retreating back to the bottom of the ship.

“Gedet'ye Cyar'ika…” please darling.

Your eyes fluttered open, when they were clear enough to see, they pricked with tears. You were looking up at the Mandalorian you fell in love with. His hand caressed your cheek and wiped the stray tear away with his thumb. You leaned into his touch, shakily reaching your hand to his and giving it a weak squeeze. You were leaning against the stairs in the observation deck. Your breath was labored and each exhale felt like fire escaping. Your armour lay on the floor, ripped off in a hurry. Makeshift bandages did their best to hold your broken ribs in place. Your head spun and the world seemed to spin at each movement. Entering your view the small green creature you had taken as your own, looked up at you with drooped ears. Tears threatened to spill viciously as his small hand reached out to your injured chest. Shaking your head you took his hand in yours.

“I know buddy, you just want to help” He cooed and whined at your words, still trying to heal you. Your fingers wrapping around his, as he wrapped his around your index finger. A sob catching in your throat as you felt exhaustion wave over you stronger than any sleep you had longed for before.

“Please” Din’s voice quivered with emotion none had heard before. One of raw defeat and heartbreak. “Hold on Cyar’ika… we need you”

The Jedi stood in the doorway with his blue droid. Offering You a glance of sympathy and nodded his head. Confirming there was nothing he could do to save you. Just as the child , he could feel how weak you were becoming. Your breath hitched as your husband removed his helmet, the child in his arms. Watching silently as he said goodbye to the child. Tears threatened to roll down the Mandalorians cheek, as the doors closed on the Jedi and his child. Saying goodbye to the child was heartbreaking. The foundling was a part of him, an extension of his love. He had watched a piece of him walk out the door, in the arms of a stranger. He would watch the other piece of him rest in his arms.

He kneeled in front of you one last time. Setting his helmet down to the side.

“Hey handsome,” You breathed, chuckling lightly as you met his eyes. Pain limited your joy to be back in your husband's arms.

He choked, knowing your fate. “Cyar'ika gedet'ye … stay with me” He begged softly as his eyes met yours. His heart hammering in his chest, sending his mind reeling. Panic bubbled in his throat as he felt your weak embrace. Resting his head against yours, foreheads touching as he tried to memorize every inch of your face over and over again, as if he didn’t already know it by memory. His eyes full of sorrow and pain met yours, full of love and admiration.

“I-m not scared, its okay ” You confessed, your shaking hand smoothed out the curls sticking up on the back of his head. Movement seemed to defy the nerve endings' painful plea to stop. The ache in your heart was enough to keep you afloat for just a minute longer.

“Please don’t leave me -” he confessed his fear. Losing you. Failing you. Tears made their way down his cheeks freely. You were in his arms and that is all that mattered in this moment..

“Mhi solus dar'tome, Riduur ” we are one when parted, husband. You whispered, looking into the glassy brown eyes you had fallen so deeply in love with. “I love you Din Djarin” his name on your lips like honey. Sounding so sweet and lovely, just as if you had whispered it to him in the hours between day and night, instead of in the devastating moment.

“I love you” he repeated, choking through tears and breathless declarations. A desperate prayer to the stars, not unheard, they had run out of ink. Caressing your cheek, he placed a kiss on your lips, the feeling of his scruff and mustache making you smile weakly. He pulled you into his chest. Hand grasping at your back and the other cradling your head. Shaking through tearless sobs, he held you. One last time. His arms were a place like no other. Strong, protective, and comforting. They never let you down, even until the end. There was nowhere else in the entire galaxy that you would rather be.

One last intimate moment between husband and wife

Din repeated out loud, words only shared between the two of you, in the intimacy of becoming each others. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde - "We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors. “Udesiir Riddur” Rest my beloved.

The creek of the metal shifting underneath him pulled him back to reality. He blinked the emotion out of his eyes. Turning the squeaky faucet, ice cold water gushed out in rhythmic spurts into the metal basin.The cold water woke him up with a harsh start. Gripping the metal basin with white knuckles, he let his face drip into the basin, staring at the ripping reflection of a broken man. The man staring back at him in the mirror was unrecognizable. How could he be the man you knew when you weren’t even there to witness his decay.

His harsh breaths echoed through the hull of the ship. Curls of brown landed on the floor with a weightlessness the Mandalorian was jealous of. His heart twisted in his chest, yearning for the release he would never know. The metal scissors felt forgien in his hands as he struggled with shaking hands to grasp his short locks to trim them.

“Din! Come on! You’ve been asking me to do this for weeks and as soon as I find a good pair of scissors at the market you chicken out! Last time it didn’t turn out THAT bad!”

A quick side glance and eye contact through the mirror made the tension break. Like music to his ears, your laughter filled the hull of the ship. Your eyes gleamed, making his heart soar. A smile crinkled at the corners of his eye, his upper lip twitching into a steady smile.

“Okay… maybe it wasn’t THAT bad, but you learn from your mistakes right?”

“I promise you that my skills have gotten better and I won’t give you a bad haircut this time… or try too”

His hand caught your wrist as you neared him with your scissors. “ I’m warning you once, Cyar'ika, I won’t let you off so easily this time”

How did you make it look so easy?

A soft, longing smile played at the corner of his lips, not quite reaching his eyes. His heart ached in the memory of your laughter, yet he couldn’t help but feel nothing but love for the image of you that burned in the back of his eyes. Images of you dancing around the ship with Grogu in your arms in nothing but shorts and a tank top. Images of you asleep and snoring in the passenger seat, or you holding a gun to the bounty who tries to escape his bond while in the hull. Images of you in his arms, peacefully asleep as he stared at the ceiling of the small sleeping quarters. The image of you clinging to his beskar, the lingering grasp it left as the exhaustion took you away from him filled the moment. He dropped the scissors, letting them rattle into the metal basin. No longer trusting them to stabilize his world. Breathe. He reminded himself with scolding words. He starred in the mirror. Standing with planted feet and steady hands against the sink. The man staring back at him, was one he hadn't seen since you had left. He looked more like himself, being covered in a bandage was only a common occurrence. One difference was the absence of you behind him. The other was visualized in the bloodshot eyes with dark circles outlining the last of sleep. His mind drifted to the lonely life ahead of him. Knowing you'll meet again. Not soon enough.

The Mandalorian scoffed and shook his head. He made his way back to the empty mattress. Lazly putting the med kit on the floor, sweeping the fallen contents onto the floor. His head hung heavy in his hands as his elbows supported him as he let go. His throat tightened at the overflow of emotion. He laughed. A short and dry one nevertheless. The weight of the world collapsed around him. All over a pair of scissors. Guilt overtook him as he laughed without you, he hadn't saved you. It would be another sleepless night of his memories of waking up next to you everyday burning into the back of his head. Moments of bliss and weightlessness he would have to be without until he would join you. They would just be selfish moments, lingering in suspended bliss. Stealing time from reality, softening the blow to his aching chest.

thank you for reading all the way through <3

Tags: @forever-rogue @magicrowiswritingstuff @callmehopeless @dindja

#the mandalorian x reader #mando imagine #mando x reader #mando angst #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin angst #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal x reader #star wars imagine #star wars angst

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consumeconstantly · 4 years ago

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Who Are You (and what will you become?)

1(you are here)| 2 | 3 | 4

Summary: “Over the years, I have found that blood means very little.”

The ice clicks against the glass almost inaudibly, condensation dripping down the side.

“So tell me, M. Wayne, why do you think I should even begin to consider you my father?” (all biodad bruce can be read as stand alone but are posted in chronological order)

__________________________________________________

At the tender age of nineteen, Marinette Dupain-Cheng has already become a jaded woman. It doesn’t shine through very often, hidden behind a carefully crafted facade of Parisian-brand carefree attractiveness and pigtailed youthfulness, but there exists, in Marinette, a certain bitterness.

“For a vigilante, you’re not very secretive,” Marinette remarks, keeping her tone measured, almost playful, so as not to draw attention to herself.

“Marinette.” Bruce inclines his head and allows the bartender to serve him a whiskey sour. He doesn’t drink alcohol because it alters his mental state in ways that are unpleasant, but ordering a drink helps him fit in, and with Marinette, the person he wants to talk to, right at his side, he can’t have his normal ginger ale substitute. “It’s good to see you.”

“Mmm.” She takes a sip of her French 75, playing up an interest that Bruce knows is a lie. “M. Wayne, you say that as though we’re familiar with each other.”

“Sabine and I were close,” he says.

Sabine is one of the few people who knew about his existence as Batman that didn’t live in Gotham. Many years ago, they were friends. Colleagues. (More.) Of course she told her daughter about who he was. How could she not have?

Sabine is-- she was--

“Close, you call it,” she says with mock awe, words slurring together. “Closer than close, really. Too close for comfort— at least, too close for you.”

When Bruce and Sabine’s paths crossed all those years ago, he was struggling trying to raise Dick. Sabine was equal parts a mother and a mentor to Dick in all the ways that Bruce couldn’t be. When she left for Paris so abruptly after the two of them parted ways, Dick didn’t take it very well. Even moreso when communications halted permanently. The fact that the radio silence coincided with Marinette’s birth is something only Bruce is privy to.

However awkwardly he and Sabine left off, it doesn’t change the facts. Bruce’s lips thin. “I’m here to offer you a home.”

Swirling her French, Marinette taps at her phone, swiping away at a few messages that she’s not interested in. “I’m nineteen and more than capable of taking care of myself. Though I suppose it stands to reason that it would be difficult for you to know that, what with how busy your extracurriculars keep you.”

“I’m not doubting your capabilities.” He’s looked into what Marinette has been up to over the past nineteen years of her life. He’s never been particularly concerned with her upbringing, not with a woman like Sabine at the helm of her childhood. Bruce was right not to be worried; Marinette has grown into a multi talented, extremely well connected entrepreneur based on her own hard work. Judging by the crowd that she runs with and the multiple charities that she supports both financially and with her own time, she will be a force to be reckoned with in a few years; Tim regularly extols the virtues of the brand MDC, and if he knew that he was sisters with the designer, he’d never stop raving about her. MDC is already being compared to the likes of Dior and Gabriel when they were first starting out. Her finances aren’t anything to scoff at, and at a few galas and charity parties that he’s had to entertain, anyone who's had the privilege to wear an MDC original talks about how sweet and kind the head designer is while complimenting the CEO’s business savvy.

Bruce has to admit that he’s impressed by how she manages to keep her identities separate. No one suspects the head designer to also be manning publicity and business.

He’s been watching her for the past day, and he has to say, for somebody whose parents just died, she carries herself with remarkable ease. If not for the red around her eyes and line of shots on the bartop, Bruce would believe that Tom and Sabine’s death didn’t phase her at all.

“There’s a but, isn’t there?” Marinette says bitterly.

She’s right in that assumption. As skillful as Marinette is in her field, she has no practical combat experience. A brief stint in fencing and martial arts but nothing beyond that. Even if she practiced martial arts for years, that wouldn’t be enough to convince Bruce to let her go off on her own. Martial arts as a hobby is an entirely different game than fighting for one’s life.

Marinette is simply not the kind of person who can face down a League member and come out of it alive.

“It’s for your safety.”

For the first time since entering the bar, Bruce sees a flash of true emotion cross Marinette’s eyes. It’s hard to see the color of her eyes in the dim lighting, but it’s impossible not to see Sabine in how her eyes narrow. Perhaps the dim lighting makes it easier to; in the light of day, Marinette’s eye color— it’s too similar to the shade he sees in the mirror.

“My safety? What about my parent’s safety?”

At that, Bruce internally cringes while keeping his face carefully blank. Tom and Sabine… their end wasn’t pretty. Not the most gruesome deaths he’s ever seen, but it was up there. Bruce never thought the League would do something as cruel as desecrating the corpses of the people they murdered. They may be assassins for hire, but most times, they do have some sort of morals.

The worst part about it is that their death is most likely a result of Sabine’s past relationship with him. Last month, a tabloid that drew comparisons between Marinette and Bruce. It didn’t take long for another person to dredge up pictures from when he was still with Sabine. Tom and Sabine didn’t have enemies well-off enough to hire the League. But Bruce? Bruce did.

“I’m not interested in any protection you have to offer me.” Marinette shakes her head. “Don’t worry. I’m not like you. I won’t become a vigilante out of rage or as a coping mechanism. I’m not going to go chasing after the League in a foolish pursuit of misguided justice.”

But Marinette doesn’t understand. She has a target on her back with her newfound association to him.

“I haven’t been active in your life--”

“Understatement of the year,” Marinette mutters.

“--but I’m not going to let you die when I can prevent it.”

Downing the rest of her French, she takes the Moscow Mule away from Bruce’s hands, eyeing the liquor up on display. She drinks the cold alcohol and revels in the burn that slides down her throat. Marinette swipes on one of the notifications she’s received on her phone in order to respond to it. “You’re a good man, Bruce. But your desire to protect me— what does it stem from? What do we have in common? Why would you use your time and effort on what’s essentially a stranger?”

Bruce has no good answer for this, but he has an obvious one. As soon as it leaves his tongue, it feels wrong. “We share the same blood.”

He can’t bring himself to call Marinette his daughter. That means that he would be her father and he’s not deserving of that title.

Marinette pockets her phone, eyes trained on a set of unusually shaped glasses on the shelves. “If that’s your answer, M. Wayne, let me tell you something. Over the years, I have found that blood means very little.”

The bartender comes around and tops off the whiskey sour. The ice clicks against the glass almost inaudibly, condensation dripping down the side. Bruce can’t tell whether the bartender knows Marinette or not, but he certainly looks concerned enough to, with how his eyes shift between Marinette and himself rapid fire. When the bartender’s gaze settles on Bruce, mouth turned downward, clearly suspicious of his presence, Marinette just waves him off with a gentle smile.

Her smile turns up the same way Tom’s did. She’s right; family is more than blood.

“Your answer to why you want to protect me is that we share blood, but you speak nothing of our relationship. Shouldn’t that have been the first thing you brought up?”

Bruce shifts uncomfortably on the bar stool. Marinette just laughs at his apparent awkwardness. “Talking of blood relations seems to be something you don’t enjoy, and yet the entire premise of your protection rests on it. Tell me, M. Wayne, do you think I should even begin to consider you my father?”

Even as inebriated as Marinette must be, she brings up points that he himself wondered on his way to Paris. Wanting to see Marinette safe goes beyond a simple duty to morality and virtue. Though Bruce is known for adopting kids with tragic backstories, it simply isn’t feasible to adopt every single one he comes across. To bring Marinette into his family at this age, to expose her to the life he lives would be beyond cruel. In essence he’d be replacing two parents with a ticking time bomb: himself.

“Don’t consider me a parent, just a guardian. It’s in my best interest to see you safe, and the best way to do that is to have you move to Gotham, where my colleagues and I can assure you around the clock protection.”

At first, he distanced himself from Sabine and Marinette because he didn’t want to disrupt her current relationship with Tom. Even if the two of them insisted that he could still be part of Marinette’s life, it just didn’t feel right to have the title of father when he wasn’t the one to put in any of the hard work. Then, as Tom and Sabine grew more comfortable in their life together, settled down and opened up a bakery, he was blindsided by Jason’s death. As his daughter grew older and older, there were just too many things in his own life for him to ever hope to kindle a relationship with Marinette.

Marinette laughs, but it’s really more of a bark. Her voice is too hoarse for it to come out any other way. Bruce can’t imagine how much she’s cried this past week. “If you wanted to keep me safe, where were you a week ago? Where were you two years ago? Where were you when I was thirteen? M. Wayne, I’ve heard a lot of rumors about you throughout the years, and I’ve always brushed them off as nothing more than tabloid gossip. But perhaps they got one thing right about you: you’re a liar.”

Marinette stands, swaying slightly.

“This— if you truly want me to uproot my life, I need more than you saying it’s in your best interest. I need—” Marinette reaches up to her earrings and allows her eyes to flutter shut. She needs more than a distant guardian. She needs someone to confide in. Someone she trusts. “It was nice meeting you, but I don’t need your pity. Not now.”

As she weaves through the crowd, Bruce can’t help but wonder whether he made the right decision all those years ago to not be apart of her life.

@biodad-bruce-month

Late to the game as always. This will be a multichapter fic but all parts can be read as one shots (and also as always anything posted to tumblr is never checked for accuracy and stuff so whoop)! They’ll be released in chronological order. If you want to get tagged in all things maribat, instead of commenting it under a fic, I’d appreciate an ask or a dm instead! I haven’t been able to go back through all the previous comments and create a taglist yet but perhaps. eventually.

#bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #first meeting #maribat #bio!dad bruce #marinette dupain cheng #bruce wayne #referenced character death #aged up! marinette #miraculous ladybug #dcu

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genesisrose74 · 4 years ago

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Selfish • A. Arlert

self•ish — lacking consideration for others; concerned chiefly with one's own personal profit or pleasure.

Pairing: Armin Arlert x Reader

Word Count: 726

Armin Arlert isn’t selfish at nearly any point in time, most significantly not in his life as a Scout. He’s efficient, strategizing, and constantly working towards the benefit of the many as much as possible. He understands that he was granted a second opportunity at living when many believed he wasn’t worthy of such a thing, and for that he’s become even more focused on achieving the best outcome for others. Yes, he can feel pulled one way or another emotionally, but in the end it doesn’t do all that much to sway his logical judgement.

Armin is selfless and gives his all for the good of the many, but he’s got just one frequent exception: you.

It might have been more concealed back before the battle to retake Wall Maria, but it was there, and time had simply amplified his desire to be around you at all times.

Is it a bad thing, in retrospect? That he has an emotional attachment in such a fucked up mess of a world? Not necessarily.

It’s simply a flaw in his resolute morality, one that proved he‘s not some brilliant pillar of unbound sacrifice for Paradis. He’s bound to you, bound to your safety, bound to the feeling of you taught in his embrace. His protective tendencies are human, though, and as of late that quality has felt increasingly unacceptable.

Armin isn’t much of a child anymore; anyone who knows him can evaluate that much of a change.

He knows that sometimes you’ll have to be in harm’s way—and he trusts you wholeheartedly, believing in your strength, skill, and experience more than anyone. He simply wishes that those precarious moments teetering between life and death could be kept to a minimum after all you’ve experienced. But he’s not naive, and he understands that things can’t always go his way, especially not in the world for which he used to harbor such curiosity.

Armin’s not a child (he assures people of that), but when he has the opportunity?

He’s oh so very selfish with you.

Even before all he saw was grim faces—prior to smelling the overwhelming scent of spilled red wine in it’s unbearable entirety—that greed of his bloomed into its maturity. It reared its ugly head through possessive embraces, lingering gazes, and the bruising collision of his mouth on yours.

Never anything beyond fleeting moments, of course, but nevertheless conveying how much he needed you beside him.

Don’t stray too far from me, or I might just crumble, he insists, weaving a hand through your hair as he pulls you towards him for the second time that afternoon. There’s supposed to be a meeting in the next half-hour, but he just can’t wait to take the air from your lungs any longer, and he prays no one can see him kissing you from the third story window of headquarters.

Tell me you love me and mean it, he urges—and it could be classified as begging, if not for the assertiveness of his hold on your waist, one that contrasted his clear desperation as he holds you as close as humanly possible.

Constantly, wordlessly, he’s praying that you’ll indulge his little bursts of raw emotion because it’s the only place he feels comfortable letting it show.

While he’s likely the most human person left in all of Paradis, there’s still a cold stone wall that he can reinforce at will. The cracks threatening his authoritative display make him feel pathetic at times. But you embrace him with open arms, reminding him that every bit of him is perfectly okay in this disaster of a situation. Armin takes it all, engraving it into his body and soul, down to the smallest atoms of his being that still scream their collective need for you.

Take, take, take. Armin wonders what his grandparents would think if they saw him now. How selfish he just knows he’s become.

Sometimes you wonder if he’ll ever realize that you’re just as selfish, steered by emotions that shouldn’t even exist in circumstances like your own. You ponder whether he’d change his tune about it if he knew exactly how much you both shared in common, but he has yet to make the connection, so it’s left to your imagination.

And so you remain, two people on an island of crushed dreams and cracked walls, selfish but selfless and caught up in the immortal passions of nothing that will last much longer.

#armin arlert x reader #armin x reader #armin x you #armin arlert #snk x reader #aot x reader #shinjeki no kyojin x reader #attack on titan x reader #snk armin #armin aot #shinjeki no kyojin #attack on titan #armin imagines #snk imagines

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seungmvnnie · 4 years ago

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Ravenclaw!Renjun x Slytherin!Reader

word count; 2.7k words (longest one yet, my bias really do be showing)

warnings; *very* suggestive kissing, female reader, bullet point au, unlike the other fics in this series, this one is pretty much entirely based on the build up to the relationship and has little about the characters together, enemies to lovers au. also i researched year 7 DADA content for this to make it realistic so never say i dont put effort into my writing ahahaha

Huang Renjun had been your enemy the second you had stepped foot into your first class at Hogwarts

It was only natural; you both came to school, bright eyed and ready, with the expectation and aspiration to be top of the class

you had read through and memorized all the books on the provided reading list before you had even boarded the train - everyone thought you were made to be a ravenclaw which is why it was a bit of a shock when you were sorted into Slytherin, but you supposed it was your ambition

you had planned to become the youngest minister of magic there had ever been since you were 4

which meant going to Hogwarts, achieving the highest grades and being top of your year, becoming prefect, head girl and going on to work in the ministry and work your way up

little did you know, Renjun also had big plans

to ruin your perfect record

the very first lesson you had with him; you hadn’t even noticed the quiet ravenclaw who sat behind you

that was until the Professor asked a question and he had stated the answer so confidently, you almost flinched

you had answered the first few, which was why his voice interrupting was so shocking

you hadn’t even gotten the opportunity to open your mouth

you knew the answer of course, you just weren’t as quick as he was

which is why the next time your Professor asked a question, you made sure to get there first

it continued like that the whole lesson, a vicious back and forth game of who could answer first

you enjoyed some healthy competition and all, but it was like he was purposely trying to annoy you

the final straw was when you turned around in your seat at the end of the class to glare at him and he had that stupid smug smile on his face that you learnt to despise over the next few years

ever since then, everything was a competition to you two

and everyone at Hogwarts knew it

quidditch

house cup points

you name it, you’ve had an argument over it

neither of you even played quidditch but you would still argue with him about how Slytherin was better

you even once partook in a particularly heated game of wizard chess that ended with a flipped chess board and a few choice words being shouted at each other

there were many people that Renjun didn’t like but you were the only one that could make him flip a wizard chess board in rage (Although, if you asked him he would say you were the one who threw it)

wizard chess was banned after that

everyone hated you for it

this competition was helpful to an extent; you were top of the class in most classes, except the very, very few in which Renjun had beaten you

your days were spent in the library, cramming as much as you could, the desire to beat Renjun outweighing your need for sleep or basic human needs

needless to say he was the exact same but you both made sure to sit as far away from each other as humanely possible in the library

you could honestly say the best day of your life was when you realized that you had made prefect and he didn’t

that got held over him for a good two years

then again, Renjun could also say that he beat you in your O.W.Ls, so it evened out

when you started dating Han Jisung in 6th year, who was another Ravenclaw, you had him reporting back Renjun’s grades in the classes you weren’t in with him

you both competed for who had the least amount of detentions given - you had 2, which were both caused by the few times your competition had turned physical and you had shot a few jinxes at him, and Renjun had 5, two from his incident with you and the other 3, a result of his unfortunate friends

which meant both of you had pretty much squeaky-clean records

you attributed your near perfect grades and having the best record in your year as the main reason why, the summer before seventh year, a neat little green pin with, ‘head girl,’ had arrived in the mail

of course, you were happy that your parents were proud of you, but you felt a vindictive joy knowing that you had something new to hold over Huang Renjun

That was until, you showed up on the first day to the first prefect meeting on the Hogwarts express and were met with the one and only Huang Renjun, the pin on his chest sat bright blue with ‘Head Boy,’ proudly etched into the metal

according to the pale look on his face, he hadn’t expected you to be Head Girl either

Professor Lee, the Headmaster, seemed to recognize his mistake almost immediately, considering he had two teenagers debating each other in his office before the school year had even started

“You can hardly expect me to work with him-”

“Of course, you can’t expect us to work together, I actually know what I’m doing-”

“Know what you’re doing? You weren’t even a prefect you poser-”

“You’re right I wasn’t, but I’m still smarter than you!”

the Headmaster had silenced you both with a wave of his hand, before you could retaliate with the fact that you’re beating him at potions, what does he mean, smarter than you?

“Okay. If you can’t work together, that’s fine. However, I expect one of you to make the mature, adult decision to step down from your position, not push the other one to resign.”

You looked at each other

there was no way either of you were going to do that

He stared at you both for a moment, before sitting down calmly at his desk

“I chose you both because of your maturity, exam results and impressive behavior these past 6 years. I would appreciate if you both put aside this feud and worked together for your student body.”

You stared at your hands, refusing to look at Renjun as shame gnawed at your chest

“Now, back to your dormitories.”

And so you were stuck with him

you thought that perhaps, Professor Lee’s words of wisdom would create a newfound maturity

but no, he was the exact same annoying little shit he was before

just this time, he had authority

As Head Boy and Head Girl, you were required to do prefect duty late at night together

which essentially meant you both had to walk around Hogwarts late at night on a Friday and Saturday and make sure no one was out of bed and wandering the castle when they shouldn’t be

you spent those nights in an awkward silence

you wished you could split up but you had to walk around together for, ‘safety reasons’

realistically you thought that schools were meant to be safe to walk around late at night by yourself but Hogwarts is just built different

as head boy and head girl you were given the most hectic two days of the week as well, which meant you had broken up more parties than you were comfortable to admit

you had even caught your boyfriend at a few parties, but you discreetly avoided giving him detentions

he couldn’t say anything though, he had let off Donghyuck and his girlfriend when you had found them making out

speaking of which

the amount of times you had caught a half-dressed couple attached to each other was just kind of gross

the amount of time you spent with Renjun was starting to defrost you both a little

not a lot though; just simple things like how you would ask him how he found the potions homework

sometimes it would spark an argument, but you could now have a conversation without some sort of spiteful remark

you kind of had to; otherwise you were just left in silence

your time spent together was usually uneventful

until the weekend of valentine’s day

that Saturday was valentine’s day and the day of a hogsmeade trip

Jisung had asked you to go, but you had an important Herbology exam on Monday, not to mention you had to be alert for prefect duty so you couldn’t be running around Hogsmeade

he had seemed annoyed, but he had always known how much your future meant to you

it seemed Renjun had thought the same because the only people in the library, or it seemed the entire castle was the two of you

prefect duty that night was the least awkward it had ever been

he had even said something that had made you laugh

however the lack of awkward tension between the two of you counterbalanced with the awkwardness of having to check every single broom cupboard you happened across as, as you had expected, many people had been affected by valentine’s day

what you hadn’t expected though, was to spot your boyfriend leaving the Gryffindor common room, hair disheveled and his t-shirt on inside out

“Jisung? What are you doing out of bed at this time?”

He looked like a deer caught in the headlights

“Sorry, the Gryffindors were throwing another party again. You know what they’re like,” he laughed awkwardly

your eyes flickered down to the red and purple bruises which littered his neck

“I didn’t put those there. You were cheating on me, weren’t you?” You asked so matter-of-factly, that Renjun was somewhat taken aback

you were using the voice you used to answer the teacher or argue with him

you didn’t seem emotional at all

Jisung looked like he wanted to pretend, but his face fell into a tired, yet annoyed look

“Can you blame me?”

You blinked at him

“Yeah.”

“Your whole life is dedicated to another person, (Y/N).” Jisung gestured to where Renjun stood

“No it’s not! Don’t be so ridiculous.” You had scoffed

“You didn’t go out with me today because you wanted to beat him in a test and be awake to spend time with him.”

“That’s not true!”

“You didn’t spend time with me on my birthday because you couldn’t miss a prefect meeting or Huang would hold it over you. You made me spy on him, and he tried to get me to spy on you too. Ever since dating you my life has just been this whirlwind of Huang. You do realize everyone in school thinks you’re in love with each other!”

He was shouting at this point

You looked at him, unable to argue with him this time, but the coldness in your eyes refused to budge.

“That doesn’t give you the excuse to cheat. I’m breaking up with you.”

He rolled his eyes

“Fine. At least now you can fuck Huang to your hearts content, considering the whole school is already betting on it.”

Before you even had time to react, Renjun had shot across the hallway, raising his fist and, with a sickening crunch, broke his nose

“Renjun!”

You grabbed his arm, pulling him back before he could do anymore damage

“Go to the hospital wing, Jisung.” You instructed

He glared at the two of you before swinging on his heel and leaving

you and Renjun didn’t look at each other for the rest of the night

or the next few weeks after that

Jisung had told everyone what had happened

he kind of had to, the bruising around his eyes gave away the events of the previous night

the whole school were watching you and Renjun intently, now that they knew how he had punched Jisung for you, thinking that this was finally it

you were finally going to get together

but you didn’t interact at all

not even to correct each other in class

the truth was, both of you were deliberating your feelings for each other

Jisung was right

you had told yourself that everything you did was for your career path, but why then did you have such a hyper fixation on Renjun?

you did well in life without your on-going rivalry with the Ravenclaw

was it just petty stubbornness? or was Jisung right in thinking that it was because of some other reason?

You found yourself staring at him in some of your classes

he was good looking, there was no denying that

but did you like him like that?

Renjun had been having the same internal battle

why did he suddenly find it in himself to punch Jisung in the face?

that was incredibly unlike him

just the way he had spoken about you and to you had made him so angry

the year flew in, and soon it was June and you still hadn’t spoken to each other

It wasn’t until your very last day doing prefect duty that the silence was broken by you

“How’d you think you do on your exams?”

he looked at you, shocked. You hadn’t spoken to him in 5 months.

“Uh- good. I go stuck on familial curses on the Defense paper, but I think I did okay in the end.”

“Oh, I wrote that the spell needs to be tied to the bloodline as opposed to the surname.”

“I thought it was that you had to tie it to the surname, because it doesn’t count as a blood curse?”

“No, because if the caster doesn’t understand familial relationships it doesn’t work, any first year could understand that.”

He went quiet for a moment before mumbling,

“I’m going to cast a goddamn familial curse on you in a moment.”

“Why are we like this?” you asked, stopping your walk to pause for a moment in the middle of the hallway

He stopped too, but he refused to look at you

“You started it...” He grumbled, staring down at his feet.

You rolled your eyes

“Why did you punch Jisung?” You asked blatantly

His head shot up in surprise

“Why did you have Jisung spying on me?” He challenged back, taking a step forward

“Why did you have Jisung spying on me?” you repeated

you both fell silent, and only then you realized how close you had gotten

you didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered down to your lips for a moment

“If you’re going to kiss me, kiss me. Don’t pussy out now.” you uttered, your words sharp and cutting

“Oh, shut up.” He replied, rolling his eyes

“Make me.” You challenged

Grabbing your waist, he pulled you to his body, colliding your lips with his violently

you let out a muffled sound of surprise, not expecting him to follow through, but upon feeling the smile which had grown on his face at your shock, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you

you couldn’t let him win, not after the past how many years of sexual tension

your lips competed in mess of sloppy kisses, his hands moving down from your waist to your hips, pushing you against the wall in the hallway as yours moved to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of his hair, using the way he gasped at the feeling to deepen the kiss, sliding your tongue into his mouth

you let out a shameful groan at the feeling of his body pressing against yours and almost whined when he pulled away

your lack of contact didn’t last long, as he attached his mouth to your neck, biting down sinfully

you threw your head back against the cool stone wall which felt deliciously cold against the the heat of Renjun to allow easier access to him as he continued to suck marks into your skin until-

“Renjun?”

You practically threw Renjun off of you, ignoring how erotic the sight of his mussed hair and swollen lips were

in front of you stood the two hufflepuff prefects, Zhong Chenle and a girl who’s name you could never remember, staring at you

the girl seemed shocked, but Chenle simply had raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk on his face

you had forgotten him and Renjun were friends

“You do know I’m going to have to give you both detention for making out in the hallway. By your rules.”

Renjun rolled his eyes

“New rule. We’re the exception.”

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