#this man. this man right here. he needs more content and I am willing to take one for the team | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 1 month ago

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Cold Jealousy

I am back once again with more Silco brain rot. Feeding all of you who need the content as well as myself.

Summary: Who knew jealousy was all it took for to have your first kiss with Silco?

He hates the coiling in his stomach that arises whenever you laugh at something a patron says. It sickens him, seeing you lean in so close to another man, your lips moving as you say something and then smile, causing the table to burst into laughter. He knows you're simply close friends with them, after all they are your childhood friends, people who grew up with you, so of course you'd act overly familiar with them but he can't stop his chest from tightening, his fingers twitching.

The nib of his pen pierces through the page he was writing on and he scowls angrily at the mess, trying to drown out your voice but it's intoxicating, a melody that snatches his attention away from the numbers in his notebook. Your laughter is like a drug, leaving him wanting more every time he hears it, and the thought that it's someone else eliciting it drives him insane.

"You alright there?" Vander slides him a glass of scotch, worry clear gentle grey eyes.

"I'm fine," Silco spits back, a little harsher than intended. Of course Vander would notice something was off, Vander knew him way too well. He turns back to his notebook, trying to suppress the whispers that begin to cloud his mind and stares at the numbers, willing them into his brain.

"You know they only have eyes for you right? They don't look at anyone the same way they look at you." Vander glances over at the table where you're currently playing a game of cards, and from the looks of it, losing.

"I know," Silco scowls, stabbing the page with his pen. Vander simply huffs and turns to attend to the customer who just pulled up at the counter. Silco rolls his eyes and closes the notebook, he's done for the night. There's no way he can continue concentrating when you laugh like that, when butterflies flutter in his chest and turn to stone as he remembers you're not laughing at something he said or did.

"I'm going to get some air," he grunts, slipping out the back door.

Out of habit, he makes his way to the rooftop, sitting at his usual spot and looks out at the sprawling underground city beneath. Neon lights flash from various stores like stars, illuminating figures as people walk past but the silhouettes disappear just as quickly, fading back into obscurity. It's the same pattern every night, he's memorised some of the figures already, knows the habits of certain individuals, and has noted the important ones. He spots the lady with twin brown hair buns who frequents the brothel opposite, the two enforcers who always sneak into the nearby drug store during their nightly patrol and nearly misses the sound of your footsteps.

"Hey." You take your seat next to him.

"Y/N." He barely spares you a glance before looking back at the city below. The night wind whistles through the air, sending shivers through his body and he curls up, hugging his knees to his chest. Dammit, he forgot his coat. The air here is chillier at this time of the year, being so far away from the hustle and bustle of the city's nightlife, but it brings a sense of peace that he treasures, especially when it's with you. Tonight, it just feels cold, probably from his lack of a coat, but there's a numbness he can't explain.

The clink of glass snaps him out of his thoughts and he glances up to see you produce a bottle of wine as well as two glasses.

"Sorry, I couldn't swipe a bottle of scotch so I grabbed the next best thing before anyone could catch me," you smile at him and pop the bottle open. The red liquid sloshes in the glass as you fill it up and hand it to him, "peace offering?"

He wrinkles his nose but takes the glass anyways, mumbling a thank you before letting the liquid slide down his throat. It doesn't have the same burn as scotch does, but there's still a pool of warmth that sits in his belly, although it does little to alleviate the chill he feels.

You smile and pour a glass for yourself, taking a sip, following the direction of his eyes. Silco swirls the red liquid around in his glass, biting his lip. The silence is awkward, but he won't be the first to break it, his pride won't let him. Fortunately, you shift closer to him and shrug your jacket off, wrapping it around his shoulders.

"Don't catch a cold on me."

He snorts in response, tugging your jacket tighter around himself. It smells nice, smells like you with a hint of his cigar's smoke. He can pick out the scent of wine, the smell of the soap you use to wash the jacket, the remnants of Piltover's smell from your afternoon stint and a small smile makes its way onto his face as he remembers the way you threw yourself at him, clutching a bag of freshly baked bread, laughing as you yelled at him to run for his life. The pool of warmth resting in his belly spreads to the rest of his body, sending tingles up his spine as he buries his face into the jacket's fabric. The fabric is worn but still maintains a certain level of softness, and it feels as nice as it smells.

He watches as you finish your glass and exchange it for the bottle, remembering his own unfinished glass and takes another sip. Scotch was still the best drink, a shame you didn't manage to filch a bottle of it. You down half the bottle in one go, sighing in satisfaction and gesture at his glass.

"You don't have to force yourself to finish it, you know?"

He scowls, and finishes the rest of his wine, all the while staring right at you. "As if I'll let you have any of mine."

You laugh, and he finds that your laughter sounds better when it's because of something he said than when it's because of something someone else said, besides, there's the added bonus of giddiness that fills him. He smiles, for the first time tonight and sets the glass down next to yours. The awkwardness has been broken, much to his relief and he feels as though he can breathe easier.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" You gesture towards the myriad of lights. "Piltover's lights can't compare to this."

"That's because most of their lights are the same colour," he snorts, "but yes…it is beautiful."

You beam, taking another swig from the bottle and set the bottle down, leaning back on your hands. The night breeze ruffles through your hair, playing with its strands and Silco watches as a couple of strands fall between your eyes, causing you to huff and puff at it until it falls off your face. The next gust of wind is stronger and you shiver, shifting closer to him. He shakes his head and throws the left half of your jacket over your shoulders so it covers the both of you.

"Don't you catch a cold on me either."

"Thank you for sharing my jacket." You roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder with your own. He nudges you back, the back and forth going on for a while until the jacket slips off your shoulder and he leans over to pull it back on. Electricity crackles from where his skin brushes against yours and he feels his heart leap into his throat when he looks up at you, realising how close the two of you are.

Sure, the both of you know how the other feels, knows the unspoken truth but continue to dance around each other, fearful of what acknowledging the feeling would bring, but tonight just feels right. He feels your hand intertwine with his and he leans in, throat bobbing as he swallows hard. You lean in as well and your lips meet for the first time.

The feeling is addicting, Silco quickly learns. The way your lips lock with his perfectly, the way you lean in as his fingers run through your hair, the way your free arm wraps around his waist, pulling him closer, all of this makes him wish this moment will never end. Unfortunately, the both of you need to breathe and so he reluctantly parts from you, pressing his forehead against yours. It feels natural, to feel your warmth, to hold you underneath your jacket, and from the way you're looking at him with such adoration in your eyes, you feel the same way.

It doesn't need to be said, nothing needs to be said, the only thing he needs to do is close the gap once more and taste the wine on your lips, savouring the sweetness of it all. This is the one time he will admit that wine tastes good, but he still prefers scotch.

Your hand gently cups his cheek and he finds himself leaning into the touch. Your thumb runs over his skin, brushing along his cheekbone and he sighs, surrendering to your warmth. A small smile graces your lips and he can't help but smile back, although his smile is rather lazy.

"We should head back before Vander has to come and haul us away," you murmur and Silco reluctantly extracts himself from your touch.

"And before he closes the bar up so that we don't have to wash the glasses." He picks said glasses up, nudging the empty bottle towards you. "You are still going to throw the bottle away, I'm not touching that."

"Why? You were so eager to touch my saliva just moments ago," you tease, mirth decorating your features.

"I'm not about to deny you your responsibilities." He ducks out of the way as you try to shove the empty bottle into his arms, quickly making his way back into the bar before you can succeed in making your problem his. He hears your annoyed shouts behind him and laughs, sliding into the bar's counter.

Vander raises an eyebrow as Silco places the glasses in the sink and darts off, then shakes his head as you come barreling in, demanding that Silco help you as payment for the wine he drank. He grabs the both of you by your collars and drops you both at the sink. "I believe washing everything in the sink will suffice as payment for the bottle of wine."

You groan when you see the amount of empty cups in the sink and Silco laughs, turning on the water tap. At least you're trapped in this with him, the washing should go by faster.

As the both of you hunch over the sink, you give him a little nudge with your elbow. "Next time, if you're jealous, just step in. I'll leave with you, I promise."

"Jealous?" He splutters. "I wasn't jealous!"

"Sure you weren't, Mr 'angrily stabs an innocent piece of paper with his pen'. Keep trying."

He huffs, turning his attention back to the glass he's currently wiping dry. "I wasn't jealous."

"Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that. I doubt that changes facts though."

"Nobody said that was a fact."

You lightly punch him in the shoulder with your damp fist and he mock glares at you, smacking your arm with the drying cloth but can't stop the smile that's forming on his face.

"Don't ever doubt yourself," you say softly. "You mean everything to me."

And you mean everything to me too.

#arcane #arcane season 2 #young silco x reader #young silco #silco #silco x reader #arcane fluff #silco fluff #jealous young silco #silco is defo the type to hide his jealousy and pretend like he's not #but with enough prodding he will subtly admit his jealousy #i love him sm #both the old and young versions #arcane silco

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ms-demeanor · 1 year ago

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i’m curious what your opinion is on the finer points of the case mentioned in the JSTOR post you reblogged earlier. the two sources in the post say that JSTOR didn’t press charges against him and had already settled with him by the time he killed himself. from what i read on wikipedia, the concern seems to be that JSTOR complied with a subpoena, which i don’t believe they have a choice to ignore? if anything it seems like the us government had reason to want him dead for wikileaks and public court records reasons, so they took a terms of use violation and blew it up into a dozen federal crimes.

is there more context i should be aware of? i have no particular affection or malice for JSTOR but the sources i found don’t exactly implicate the database or its employees in murder.

That's from page 175 of this document. This line: "The activity noted is outright theft and may merit a call with university counsel, and even the local police, to ensure not only that the activity has stopped but that - e.g. the visiting scholar who left - isn't leaving with a hard drive containing our database" is where I think the culpability starts.

If someone is downloading 1000s of articles (what seems like reasonable threshold for us to take action), what's wrong with us - or the university in collaboration with us - alerting the cyber-crimes division of law enforcement and initiating an investigation, having cop search dorm room and try to retrieve any hard drive that contains our content, etc. Our content is extraordinarily valuable and hard to replicate by the sweat of one's brow, but can be duplicated by savvy hackers and who knows what they want to do with the content?

Page 379: "Does the university contact law enforcement? Would they be willing to do so in this instance?

From page 1296:

I think the important thing to note here is that JSTOR had worked with MIT and had plans in place to prevent future similar downloads, but remained focused on identifying the person responsible for the downloads and ensuring that their data was deleted.

"I might just be irked because I am up dealing with this person on a Sunday night, but I am starting to feel like they need to get a hold of this situation right away or we need to offer to send them some help (read FBI).

And there it is. Page 3093 of the document.

JSTOR can hem and haw about it all they want, but you can't un-call the cops.

MIT was working with JSTOR on preventing future incidents of pirating, but JSTOR repeatedly said that they weren't going to let it go, that it was unacceptable to drop the issue, that they were going to continue to pursue the pirate.

You can scroll through the document and see the JSTOR tech department and abuse team talking about Swartz as a script kiddie, and a hacker. You can see someone talking about how this was real theft - making the comparison to stealing books even while admitting that piracy doesn't close others out of access.

You can see the thread starts with a joke about punching someone in the face for hacking their system, and includes the tech team ominously considering whether they should threaten the MIT librarians with the FBI.

There's something really important to note here which I don't think that people who aren't PRETTY DEEP into hackery shit aren't aware of: US law enforcement is absolutely rabidly feral about prosecuting hackers. People may be more aware of this now because of Chelsea Manning and Edward Snowden (and perhaps a bit on tumblr because of maia arson crimew), but people who work in tech and who are in infosec - like the people joking about calling the FBI in these emails - would be aware of the bonkers disproportionate punishments faced by hackers. And knowing that, they kept pushing and pushing and pushing for identification of the hacker. They kept digging with MIT, they kept saying that simply preventing future incidents wasn't enough.

Early in the exchange someone from JSTOR asked "what's wrong with us - or the university in collaboration with us - alerting the cyber-crimes division of law enforcement and initiating an investigation, having cop search dorm room and try to retrieve any hard drive that contains our content, etc." and the answer is what happened to Aaron Swartz.

It is absolute bullshit for JSTOR to say "we arrived at a solution privately and didn't want to press charges" after law enforcement has gotten involved with a hacking case, especially one where they're talking about "real theft" and are attempting to quantify and emphasize the amount that was "stolen" from them.

The *public* may believe that private individuals or institutions are the ones who "press charges" but that's simply not the case. It's prosecutors who decide whether or not to go ahead with charges; they do it based on what cases they think they can win and what their office's perspective is on the crime. When you hear about people choosing to press charges it simply means that they decided to tell the prosecutor they wanted the case to go forward. It's up to the prosecutor whether or not that happens.

And the tech team at JSTOR had to know that law enforcement wasn't just going to wag a finger at an academic hacker.

There's a parallel here that happens sometimes when people have their identities stolen by their parents. If you mom takes out a credit card in your name, that's identity theft. That's fraud. That's illegal. If you reach the age of 25 and realize that your credit is ruined because your mom has been defaulting on cards in your name, you've got two choices to fix that: one is to accept the debt and pay it off and build up credit, and the other is to report the identity theft - which will end up with your mom in prison for a decade or so. Ruin your own personal finances, or your mom goes to jail for ruining your finances. So if you find out that your mom stole your identity you can't just call the cops to pressure her into transferring the debt to her name or something. That's not an option. The cops are not a threat to wave over people, they are not a way to get people to fall in line or act right. They aren't someone you can send to a college student's dorm room to retrieve a hard drive and have the matter drop.

When you call the cops on someone you are sending the full force of the law after them, and the full force of the law falls really heavily on hackers, and how heavy that blow can be is something that the JSTOR team must have been aware of when they were making snide comments about calling the FBI because they were frustrated with the noncommittal responses they were getting from librarians.

Ultimately it was the carceral state that killed Aaron Swartz, but they would not have been involved if JSTOR didn't think that what he did constituted theft.

Taking an *EVEN LARGER* step back from that, the idea that information can be owned and locked behind a paywall is what killed Aaron Swartz, someone who fought for information to be free.

Like. JSTOR is a licensing company. At the end of the day, cute social media posts and all, they're the same as the RIAA and ASCAB. They exist to extract a fee from people attempting to access information.

Aaron Swartz and all that he stood for are an existential threat to their core function.

Are JSTOR's hands as dirty as the federal prosecutors? Absolutely not. But they operate on a model that puts them in opposition to open information activists and it ended up with a hammer falling on Aaron Swartz that they dropped.

#long post #very long post

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inkedbydesire · 2 months ago

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Jealous (18+)

Jey Uso x Black Fem Reader

Warning: 18+ Content, SMUT, MINORS DO NOT ENTER

Summary: Everybody does it right? But no one ever wants to talk about it. And you damn sure don’t want to be caught doing it. Your boyfriend Joshua Fatu (aka Jey Uso) was supposed to be out of town (like always). His schedule as a Pro Wrestler kept him constantly traveling away from you. You two spent more time away from each other than you did together. But you never complained because to you, he was worth it. But you still had certain ........... needs. Most of the time you fought those needs until you were near him again but on a few other occasions, you allowed yourself to be consumed by them. And tonight was one of those nights. But what happens when Joshua comes home a day earlier than expected and finds you in your bed enjoying yourself...... without him.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I felt like showing Jey a little love. I apologize in advance for any grammar errors or typos.

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"I'm a liar sweetie. I cheat on niggas too. (I DO). You probably shouldn't trust me or I'll hurt your feelings boo. I don't wanna be here but my ex won't take me back so my broken ass is here small talking over apps."

You let out an audible laugh even though you'd already seen this scene over 100 times. But no matter how many times you've binged Insecure due to it being one of your comfort shows, Issa's antics never failed to put a smile on your face. You shook your head at her nonsense before averting your eyes to your phone. You picked it up in hopes to have received a message from your boyfriend whom you messaged over 30 minutes ago telling him how much you missed him. But sadly as you looked down at your screen, there was nothing. It was currently 1:05 am so you figured he was most likely sleeping in his hotel room after a long day of press and performing in his wrestling event.

This was a weekly occurrence for you guys so this routine was familiar. But being familiar with something doesn't make it any easier. You still missed him terribly when he was on the road. When you met Joshua over 6 months ago, he was very upfront about his lifestyle before things got serious. His career kept him constantly traveling to different cities almost weekly so it was hard for him to lay down a lasting foundation. This had been a problem for him in previous relationships. He told you that he didn't want to end up hurting anyone else or himself so he had sworn off relationships for a while. You two were only supposed to have had a situationship type of thing. It was just supposed to have been two people enjoying each other's company.

But real feelings always have a way of showing up uninvited. Before you knew it you two had fallen for each other. It took you by surprise the most because you never expected to fall so deeply for a man you met in a Waffle House on a drunken night out with your girls. After a long honest talk, you and Joshua decided to try at a relationship even with all of the obstacles you both knew would be in front of you.

But truthfully, the only real obstacle was time. That was something you were already privy to before going in so you never complained. But that didn't stop you from missing the hell out of him anytime he was away. The longing grew more intense when the sun was down and tonight was no different. You were laying here wide awake rewatching Insecure with nothing but Joshua Fatu on your mind. You craved him tonight in a way that was hard to ignore.

And boy did you try.

Maybe it was because you were ovulating due to your pending time of the month. Or maybe it was just because you loved him. But whatever it was it was unbearable.

Joshua would be back in town tomorrow and would be more than willing to satisfy your needs. You knew that. But tonight...... you just couldn't wait that long. Pushing aside your comforter you got out of bed and walked over to your dresser. You opened the drawer that contained your underwear and rummaged through it for a few seconds. It didn't take long for your fingers to wrap around what you were seeking. With your rose in your hand, you retreated to your bed and quickly climbed in.

God, please close your eyes you thought to yourself before reaching over to your nightstand and grabbing your MacBook. You needed a little help getting in the mood and you knew just what would do it.

You clicked around on your laptop before reaching the private folder you were looking for. You hit play on the file then placed your laptop beside you as you slid down onto your back.

"Why are we recording this" You heard your own voice coming from your laptop followed by the sound of you giggling.

"For fun ... for memories" Joshua's voice answered back.

Now, you weren't crazy enough to let any man get you on camera. That was one of your golden rules. But you did however mutually agree with Joshua to audio record a few of your steamy sessions. You thought it was harmless fun and now you were grateful you had them saved for moments like this since you weren't that into watching porn. You’d rather close your eyes and listen to one of your and Joshua's audios and mentally travel back to that moment.

As you heard the sound of you and Joshua kissing you pulled the oversized shirt, that oddly enough belonged to him, up and slid out of your panties. You kicked them the rest of the way off with your feet as you got more comfortable.

"I been waiting to taste you all damn day baby girl" you heard Joshua's voice say followed by the sound of him lapping up your juices. Your body shuddered at the memory of his talented tongue as you felt an urgent throb build between your inner thighs. You clicked on your rose while you pulled your legs apart. As you reached down to please yourself, for a fleeting moment you wished that Joshua was there.

But unbeknownst to you, he was only a few minutes from your apartment. In a rare turn of events, he was able to travel home a day earlier from his wrestling event than he had in mind. When he arrived back in the city nearly an hour ago, he dropped by his apartment, freshened up, and got right back on the road headed your way. He missed you fiercely and knew you had to be feeling the same way.

He wanted to call and tell you all about it but he thought surprising you with his sudden presence would be better since he rarely got the chance to do so. It pained him to ignore your message about missing him a little while ago but he didn't want to spoil the surprise. But he had a few ways in mind on how he would make it up to you.

Pulling into your apartment complex he quickly found his regular parking spot. He turned his engine off and then grabbed the duffle bag that contained a few day's worth of clothes knowing he would be staying with you for the next couple of days. He damn near jogged up to your apartment powered by his readiness to see you. When he got outside your door he put the code into the lockbox that contained your spare key. He used it to unlock your front door and then returned it to where he found it. He put his hand on your doorknob and quietly eased into your apartment locking the door behind him. He figured you might be asleep right now and only planned on waking you after he slid into your bed and wrapped you in his arms.

He dropped his duffel bag near your sofa and lightly walked towards your bedroom. As he neared your door he heard something that immediately made him stop in his tracks. He leaned his ear towards your slightly cracked door thinking that he was hearing things.

He listened for a few seconds.

No, he wasn't tripping. Those definitely were the sounds of your moans. He knew that like the lyrics of his favorite song.

Beyond curious he cautiously pushed your door open just a little further. Clearly, you were preoccupied and he didn't think you would notice and you didn't. He was able to gain a full view of your bed and what you were doing on it. You were so wrapped up in chasing your climax that the figure looking at you through the slit in your door went unseen. Through the glow of your tv and laptop, he watched your chest heave up and down and your legs shake as you pressed the rose he didn't even know you owned against your clit.

Joshua traveled so much that he figured you had to do something to hold yourself over until he got back but he never thought he'd be witnessing it. He listened to your moans as he watched your body jerk and twitch in a way he thought only he was capable of doing.

Despite the growing bulge in his pants that he had to reach down to adjust, he found that the sight filled him with unwarranted jealousy. Here he was rushing to get back to you and you didn't seem to be missing him at all. In fact, it looked like he was the last thing on your mind. He knew that it was selfish of him to expect you to wait for him to fulfill your sexual needs but part of him wished you did. If anyone or anything was going to make you shake and moan like that he only wanted it to be him. He felt like it was his job and right now you were giving it away.

As he kept his eyes on you he fought extremely hard against the urge to burst into your room to ruin your moment. He knew that you might be agitated or even mad but he would make it up to you by making you cum countless times like he was known to do. And that would set everything straight.

He hesitated for a long while but ultimately with reluctance decided against it.

Taking a step away from your door he waited until he heard the high-pitched moan of you cumming before he walked back towards your front door. Unlocking it again he grabbed the doorknob opening and closing it louder to get your attention. He had plans to bring up what he saw but not just yet.

Your eyes jolted open from your state of bliss at the sound. Still feeling the effects of your climax you sat up as quick as you could manage and reached over and clicked on the lamp beside your nightstand.

"IT'S ME." you surprisingly heard your boyfriend Joshua's voice yell. You were relieved because, for a split second there, you thought it was an intruder. Joshua was not supposed to be showing up to your apartment tonight.

The distance between your front door and bedroom wasn't that far so you had no time to find and put your panties back on. They were somewhere tangled in your comforter and sheets. But you did have time to slide your rose underneath your pillow, throw your comforter across your lap, and close your laptop before Joshua neared your door.

"Hey baby........ how are you here?" you asked him as he entered your room. You knew that he had one more night away from you so you were a little confused. But maybe there was a change in plans that you didn't know anything about.

But the hows became irrelevant as your heart swelled at the sight of the man you loved.

You wanted so badly to jump into his arms but your legs were still weak from what you were doing no longer than 5 minutes ago. You didn't want to risk wobbling or falling. That would definitely tip off to Joshua that you were in here up to no good. And you didn't want him to know that you were just in here masturbating. It seemed immature but you would be so ashamed if he found out.

You thanked God that he didn't show up to your apartment just a few minutes earlier or he would've caught you right in the middle of the act.

You pushed those thoughts aside as you watched him step out of the Nike slides he had on before walking over to your bed and standing there.

"You not happy to see me?" He asked you. The way it came out sounded like he had a little bit of an attitude. You were clueless on why he would have one with you so you ignored it and chalked it up to you over analyzing the situation because of what he almost caught you doing. And you knew he was most likely questioning your happiness to see him because you didn't dive into his arms like usual. On any other day, you would've been out of your bed meeting him in the living room.

"I'm always happy to see you, Josh." You answered him with a reassuring smile. You couldn't physically show him right now so you had to choose the right words.

"Umm ..... what you doing up this late though?" He asked you.

"Couldn't sleep." You responded.

"So what you been doing to pass the time?" He asked squinting his eyes at you a little.

"I've been watching Insecure..... like always" You answered him jokingly as you pointed towards your TV where Issa's crazy life was still playing out on your screen.

"That's all?" Joshua asked while raising his brows at you.

As your eyes remained locked on his you weirdly started to feel like you were under interrogation. You searched your brain but couldn't figure out what for. But it definitely seemed like Joshua was trying to get something out of you.

What though?

The only other thing you were doing before he showed up felt too personal and embarrassing to say out loud so you had no plans on disclosing it to him.

"Yep.... that's pretty much all," you replied to him lying while you shrugged your shoulders. Joshua stared at you for a moment longer before walking over to the side of the bed that you were on.

"That's funny 'cause that's not what I saw." He stated as he sat down near you. His words caused your heart to sink to the pit of your stomach but you had to keep your composure.

"And what did you see?" you asked him already feeling like you knew the answer but needing the confirmation before you started freaking out. Without immediately responding Joshua just looked into your eyes with a smirk and it all started making sense. You felt like you were being interrogated earlier because you were. Joshua already knew the answer to everything he was asking you because he already knew what you had been up to.

You wondered how in the hell did he know though ....

After a few seconds of shuffling things around in your brain, you put two and two together and figured Joshua must've come into your apartment a whole lot earlier than he made known. You were so consumed with pleasuring yourself that your apartment could've been on fire and you wouldn't have moved a muscle. So you damn sure didn't hear him entering your apartment or coming near your door. You noted to yourself that you needed to be more attentive the next time or at least tackle the basics like closing and locking your damn bedroom door. But you weren't expecting Joshua tonight so you didn't think you needed to be that cautious.

"I didn't even know you had one of those things," Joshua said bringing you out of your thoughts as he reached beside you and started running his hand over your comforter. When he didn't find what he was looking for there he then moved towards your pillows.

"Okay." you quickly said while grabbing his hand before it made contact with your rose. It clicked in your mind that that's what he was feeling around for.

"If you already knew what I was doing .... why you come in here like Inspector Gadget?" you asked him.

The thought of him seeing you in that intimate moment was sending waves of crippling embarrassment through you. Joshua was your boyfriend and had seen you in way more compromising positions but this whole ordeal was still awkward as hell to you. Discovering that something you thought you were doing in private wasn’t as hidden as you thought is a deeply embarrassing feeling.

But you still wanted to be mature about everything.

"I just wanted to see what you would say. No wonder you in here acting like you didn't miss me. You got me replaced." he said.

You searched his face for more amusement because he was clearly getting a kick out of all of this but to your surprise, he actually looked rather serious.

"Wait ... you accusing me of replacing you with an object?" You asked him after you two silently stared at each other for a few minutes. This realization overshadowed any embarrassment you felt about the situation. Now you understood why he seemed to have had an attitude with you when he first entered your room. He saw you with your rose and got jealous. It was taking everything in you not to laugh in his face.

"It's okay for you to enjoy yourself when I'm not here. I understand it. But I'm just saying you were enjoying yourself a little too much." He stated still serious as a heart attack which made it a lot harder to contain your laughter.

"Josh you're not being replaced." You chuckled as you placed your hand on his shoulder to reassure him not believing you actually had to do so. You couldn't believe that this was a conversation you two were actually having.

"I only pull it out when I miss you and I can't stand it anymore," you told him.

"I don't think you understand how badly I want you when you're not here Josh" you added with honesty as your eyes locked on each other's. Yeah, there were certain things you could do to try to pacify your desire for Joshua but nothing compared. So for him to feel a way about an object was bonkers to you. But at the same time, you found it kind of cute.

"I'm here now." Joshua responded to you.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" you asked him playfully as the atmosphere in the room shifted.

"Let me show you," he stated as he reached down grabbed your leg, and pulled you closer to him on the bed.

"My bad for coming in here tripping but it was because I missed you, baby girl." He admitted before leaning over and placing a small kiss on your forehead. You smiled at him as he moved down and pecked your nose before moving to your mouth. You two then fell into a kiss that had the passion of two people who hadn't seen each other in years rather than a few days. You relished in the moment knowing you had to make the most of any time you got with him. That was the basics of your relationship. Every single moment counted because he would be on the road again in the blink of an eye.

As Joshua's hands roamed all over your body he tilted his head down and planted soft kisses on your neck. As he tossed your comforter aside he moved back up to slip his tongue into your mouth.

A couple of intoxicating minutes later, Joshua broke the kiss by standing up leaving you needing way more from him. He then posted up on the side of your bed and you giggled as he reached down and pulled you by your ankle to position you in front of him. You then had the pleasure of watching him as he pulled off his hoodie and shirt all in one swift motion. As you took in how absolutely fine he was your inner thighs throbbed needily. Sometimes all it took was just looking at him to leave you soaking.

"Lay back for me Y/N." He requested and you eagerly did as you were told without any hesitation. You scooted up on your bed and laid back in front of him as he positioned himself between your legs. Staring down at you while running his tongue across his lips, he placed one of his hands on your thigh. He slowly trailed his hand up glazing your clit with his thumb which made your legs involuntarily jolt because you were still sensitive from what you were doing earlier. He ran his thumb up and down your clit teasing you for what felt like ages. It made your wetness grow but it also frustrated you. Then he left you feeling desperate and depraved again as he took his attention off of you for a split second to rid himself of his pants and boxers.

He held his dick in one of his hands while he pushed your legs further apart with the other as he repositioned himself. You sucked in a sharp breath as he ran the tip of his dick up and down your entrance coating it in your wetness. Again, he did that for what felt like ages while you laid there desperately needing more.

"Josh" you breathed out his name as he lifted his dick and tapped it down on your swollen clit.

"Please" you urged him as he repeated the same motion with more pressure making you squirm and reach down to grab hold of his wrist.

"Please what?" He asked you while flicking his eyes up to yours. You knew that he knew full well what you wanted but he loved to play this game. He loved to get you a position where you were practically begging for his dick before he gave it to you. And each time you would feed into his ego.

"Fuck me, Josh .... please" you begged with a pout giving him what you knew he was seeking. He smiled down at you and before you could say another word or prepare your self he suddenly gripped you by your hip and sank his full length into you. But you soon found out that Joshua wasn't done with playing with you yet as he pulled out of you and went back to teasing and tapping your clit with the tip of his dick. You laid there beyond frustrated but felt satisfied when he slipped into your wetness again.

"Fuck" you muttered lowly as he eased in and out of you slowly making your body shudder with every stroke.

"Feels good baby?" He asked you as he kept that same deliberate speed while his dick continuously glazed against your g-spot. You nodded at him as you gently bit down on your bottom lip.

"Say it," he told you as he slipped in and out of your wetness.

"It f-feels good Josh. It feels so fucking good." You expressed to him as you felt pleasure filled knots building in the pit of your stomach. Closing your eyes you focused on trying to hold off climaxing as you grew wetter for Joshua as his speed quickened. Your eyes only flew open again when you heard the familiar buzzing of your rose. You looked up at Joshua wondering when and how he managed to reach over and locate it without your knowledge. But you were so drunk on feeling him inside of you that your mind was completely preoccupied.

"W-what are you doing?" you were barely able to ask him as he didn't miss a beat fucking you. His still plunged in and out of your entrance as he held your rose in the hand he wasn't using to hold your legs apart.

"I wanna try something." He responded.

"Try wh-" you began to ask but were completely cut off by Joshua bringing your rose down onto your clit. Now you could handle your rose on its own but combined with Joshua's dick rocking in and out of you, you almost started seeing stars at the sensation.

"J-Josh ... wait ....oooh fuck ..." you moaned out as you reached down and attempted to push his hand away not being able to handle the pleasure. Your attempt failed miserably as Joshua didn't budge. He continued to pound in and out of you as he used your rose on your clit.

"I c-can't J-Josh" you whined out to him as your toes curled and your legs violently shook. You felt tears welling up as your breathing became shallow and your heartbeat accelerated.

"Yes you can ... you got it baby" Joshua encouraged you as he pounded deeper and deeper into your wetness. You tried to take it but the feeling was too powerful for you to comprehend causing your climax to hit you like a tidal wave out of nowhere. All kinds of profanities left your mouth as it felt like you were having an out of body experience.

Joshua was satisfied as he watched you lose yourself as you squirted cum all over his dick. That's when he knew he could use your rose to his advantage.

#jey uso #jey uso x black reader #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x y/n #jey uso x you #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso fic #jey uso smut #black writers

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sashi-ya · 2 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

THE PRICE OF YOUR FREEDOM 💦 TRAFALGAR LAW X GN! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 28: SHIBARI

🐙 requested by: Anonymous. Trafalgar Law for day 28 shibari? With gender neutral reader or fem reader it's fine. Can Law be the one who tied up instead the reader? ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. law is tied up. jerking off. exchanging "sex" for freedom. dominant gn! reader. maybe sex slave Law. 🐙 wc: 1,1k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

With cords around his wrists, the intruder hangs on a room that lacks light. Humid, even smelly. The walls reminds him of a dungeon, and, in fact, he is not wrong.

“They told me you were trying to sneak into my island, pirate” you spit, opening the doors that blind the intruder with a sudden burst of light coming through.

“Fuck you, bitch” he grunts. A man so handsome, covered in tattoos. His muscles are noticeable, he is lean, and his skin has a caramel tint. Oh, what an interesting prey your subordinates just caught.

“That is not the proper way to refer to me, sweet boy…” you giggle, coming closer to his body. Those tight jeans around long, long legs are delicious to look at. But the protruding hipbones are more. Your index reaches for his stomach; with abs spasming to your touch, he lets you know he is more than sensitive to it… oh, are you getting hard just by my simple touch?

“What are these tattoos, pirate? What do they mean?” you ask, coming even closer to his body. Your index still tracing up and around the curls of black ink, bumping with cords that also garnish his thorax.

He looks to the side, a golden hoop on his ear reflects the warm light of torches outside… he isn’t disclosing any good information.

“Ah… come on! Tell me something! I just wanna get to know you, I don’t really plan on hurting you… plus, I know your name… aren’t you…” you laugh, coming closer to his ear as you get on tippy toes and your palms rest on his chest. “…Trafalgar Law? Cooperate with me, come on… I know you are strong” you continue.

He immediately looks at you; he burns holes into your eyes with a glacial look that could freeze you up. An everlasting frown, sweet dark circles…

“What do you want?” he asks, this time serious and more annoyed than before.

You walk away, just a little, with your index closer to your lips and your eyes wondering the ceiling as you act like you are thinking about something.

“Mhh… I am not exactly sure, cause you know… I was just minding my own business when you appeared on the coast of my island… to be fair, you should be the one telling me…also, you looked pretty beaten up” you smirk, showing him something he hasn’t probably noticed yet; gauze patching up here and there, bruises all over, and dry blood that hasn’t been cleaned up properly yet.

Law knows, exactly, what had happened to him. Thing is, he won’t tell you. However, he is willing to negotiate; he is aware the cords aren’t simply cords and that they are, indeed, made of thousands of thin kairoseki filaments.

“Tell me, what do you want? I am willing to negotiate my freedom” he mutters; Law wants to be out of this situation as fast as possible. You smirk and then bite your lower lip; lust takes over, your body getting warmer, your skin bumpier.

“Well, I think you are delicious… what do you have for me? What is the cost of your freedom, Trafalgar Law?”

“Heh, are you that desperate you need to force men?” he asks -insults- you.

This time you scoff; a big smile that’s closer to a demon’s scares him a little bit. You come closer; you don’t walk, you seem to crawl like a venomous snake… with a swift motion, your hand lands on his hardness. A bulge that’s been getting more and more noticeable the more you spoke.

“Are you sure I am the desperate one? What’s with this, mh? Aren’t you a little bit too hard?” you ask into his ear, biting his earlobe right after.

Law gasps a little; probably he wasn’t ready for that sudden touch… but he wants more…

You pull from a cord that hangs behind him, lifting his whole body over the ground. Just a little, enough for his feet to barely graze the floor with the tip of his boots. The cords properly tied around his body carve into his flesh, causing Law to grimace in pain if any part would touch a bruise.

“Does it hurt, Law-san?” you inquire, sliding your index in between a cord and his skin at his ribs level.

“You want my body? Take it” he huffs, squirming when your hand reaches for his stomach from behind.

You smile; you were never using his body if he wasn’t expressly asking for it… With a bite on his side, and a hand sliding up his chest getting underneath the cords on his pecs, you give him what he had been asking for.

His jeans were easy to take off; those slid down and got tangled around his ankles. Boxer briefs of slightly funny heart patterns, show staining from precum sprouting and his sex, that throbs, awaits for your silky hands…

“You want my hands around your sex, Law-san?” you ask, kissing his neck with soft, butterfly pecks.

“That’s the price of my freedom?” he asks, slightly moving his hips back and forth.

“That’s something that is up to you to decide…” you giggle, sliding your hand into his underwear. Hot to the touch, wet and hard is how it feels… pulsating sex in between your hand, that has a little surprise right at the tip; a cold metallic ring.

As you begin to pump, pleased with the soft whimpering coming out of his mouth, his body moves with your jerking off delight; hanging from the ceiling, trembling, moving and with each move carving those debilitating ropes more and more into his caramel skin… ah, delicious!

Law’s boxer briefs also fall, and he wishes his whole body would also fall… his wrists, become redder and painful, the more he squirms to your touch.

You play with your palm on top of his tip, moving the little piercing, getting his gland more and more aroused. It’s so good to see this strong Yonko willing to fuck your hand, as he pays for his “freedom”.

So close, so close… so close until it bursts with grunts and not so manly whimpers… and you leave him there, dripping cum on the floor and into his pants.

“I’ll be back soon, Law-chan” “Free me, (Name)-ya!” “ah... you know my name? then I am sure you don’t want me to do it, right? A simple orgasm is not the price of your freedom… Trafalgar D. Water Law ~”

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bamsywrites · 2 months ago

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And Comes Dawn pt 9

Pairing: sauron/halbrand x reader, isildur x reader, sauron/halbrand x reader

Word count: 2k.

Summary: dudes just gotta stop deceiving people.

Tags: angst, insecurities, isil being a Good Dude, Galadriel and the reader still hate each other

Notes: I'm very tired (two sick kiddos will do that to a mom) and not too happy with this one. But it's a filler part. As always love yall and the feedback

You stood in silence as Halbrand left. His revelation of his past with his father and uncle had broken your resolve in your anger towards him. Confusion still sat in your chest and itched the back of your mind, but you had forgiven him. He seemed so passionate in his intention to earn you, but you had no idea what he meant by that. His deeds had already shown his character. He had saved you so many times it would be useless to count. You could only wonder what had plagued him so that he felt he still felt as if he was too tainted for you.

You thought this over, getting lost in your thoughts and thoughts of what had transpired the night before. You had never felt anything like that. Sure, you'd had desires that crossed your mind late at night. You’d had a rather large crush on one of the local farm hands, and he had entered your dreams many times. However, nothing compared to the heat that burned through you at Halbrands touch, the gruff sound of his voice, the feel of his hot breath. You had to close your eyes, and your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you willed the thoughts that filled your mind to go away.

Soon, though, you found yourself wishing for the sound of the waves and smell of the ocean air, so you made the venture outside the inn. You watched the hustle and bustle of the locals, the sound of children's laughter. You never wanted to leave this place. It was so different from your home.

The sound of your name being called made you stand straight and tall. Soon, Isildur was running up to you, breathing heavily. “I don’t have much time, I have to be at the beach in…well, very soon,” He looked at you with a smile, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I came here to apologize for making a scene and for putting your honor to question. That was never my intention, and if you wanted to, I would completely understand if you wanted to slap me in the face a time or two. I have more than earned that.”

You couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head, “I don’t think that will be needed.”

He laughed, “I am relieved, I was not looking forward to explaining that black eye to my father.”

His smile faltered for a moment as he searched for words, “If your heart belongs to another, I hope you know that I would find contentment in your friendship as well. Perhaps it would not be my first choice, but being your friend would be an honor beyond measure.”

You nodded, reaching out and squeezing his hand, “I would be content with that too. I hope that I did not lead you to believe there was more.”

Isildur shook his head, “You did not. You are simply beautiful and kind and funny, and I am but a man. I still would like to show you more of my city's culture. There is a massive library and halls of art and food better than what we were treated to last night. That is, if you are indeed interested in that.”

“Of course,” you grinned, excitement bubbling in your belly.

“Yes? Yes! Well, then I shall see you later this evening? Right before sun down. I’ll meet you here?”

You nodded, your lips parted to answer when you heard one of his friends call his name, and he simply smiled at you before running off. You remembered what Halbrand said. He wanted you to have friends, and so you would. Isildur was kind. He was respectful, and you had no reason not to trust him.

“Where is Halbrand?”

You looked from your lunch of rice and fish, your spirits dropping at the sound of the elf's voice. You had avoided her as best as you could, and it had been successful for the most part. You knew she hated you, and while you did your best to understand her hatred, there was part of you that blamed elves as well. If it weren’t for them, your mother would still be alive, and you’d have the baby sibling you had been so excited for. But you knew it was unfair to blame Galadriel for that. You just wish she would understand the same for you.

“Where is Halbrand?” She repeated, sounding annoyed. You noticed that in her hand, she held what appeared to be a scroll.

“I do not know. I have not seen him since this morning.”

“Did he give you any idea to where he was going?”

You shook your head, turning back to your food. You did not want this conversation to last longer than it needed to.

“You seem rather content to sit and do nothing, to feast on the food of a people who have earned prosperity. I seek to fix the wound your ancestors and your family caused. Do you not seek redemption?”

You stared at the rice on your plate, your expression hardening as you tried to keep your tongue. A fight would solve nothing. You knew she was hurting as were you but the smugness in which she carried herself, the arrogance that radiated from her, it was fueling an anger in you.

“I have committed no crime to be redeemed for.” You spoke softly, not bothering to look up at her.

“Do you not feel guilty for the 37 elven souls your father, brother, and uncle took. Are they not worth redemption? Are they not worth trying to right your fathers wrongs?”

“And what of the families in the Southlands that your kind oppresses for a sin none of us committed. Crops die, money is scarce and yet we have to give a portion to the great elves who want not for food or medicine.”

“It is a reminder…”

“A reminder that to elves, we will always be less than. You act as if the Numenorians were bestowed greatness by your kind as if man can not achieve that on his own. You act as if children are responsible for the sins of their fathers as if the elves have committed none.”

“You speak of which you know little,” Your raised voices were beginning to draw a crowd. “Do you feel no guilt or remorse for what was done?”

“I feel remorse every day. Do you forget I was a child? Do you feel no remorse for your people making me watch as your people executed my only family.”

“It was what had to be done.” She replied, coldly staring you down.

“You are but a petulant child. Your callousness and arrogance will leave you without friend or affection, and I can not imagine what a lonely existence that will be for someone who does not die.” You stood up and pushed past her, walking fast to escape the eyes following you.

It was after Isildur took you to the grand library and to get dinner that you had learned of Halbrands fate from the whispers of locals as you walked past. You had enjoyed your time, feeling a true bond of friendship between the two of you. You were falling more and more in love with this island and hoped upon hope that you would be able to stay here. There was nothing for you at home. Orcs had burned down the only home you knew, but this seemed so far away from that. As if evil could not touch it.

Halbrand wasn’t evil, but he may be ruining your chances of being here with his antics. You had come to the realization that wherever you went, he was likely to follow. It was a strange sentiment to have in such a short time, but you knew you’d follow him too. No matter where his temper might land him. It was for this reason you had found some food and skin of wine and were down to the dungeons.

It seemed you weren’t the only visitor he had. You heard the elves' voice before you saw her and waited in the shadows, listening to the conversation unseen. Perhaps you shouldn’t but your curiosity got the better of you. A dispute about a woman? You could tell from the way he was speaking that it was about her.

Of course it was.

You wanted greatly to believe all that he had told you that morning, that he had shared something personal with you and that was a sign of how he trusted you but here he was so freely telling her of his past. The heir to the throne of the Southlands, how his ancestor was who swore a blood oath to Morgoth. All of those had been lacking from the story he had told you. You didn’t think him a liar, but you didn’t know what to think as it seemed he so easily opened himself up to the elf.

You heard as the elf mentioned fate bringing them together, of him going to Middle Earth with her, and he did not argue against any of it. If his intentions were truly with you, why then did he not make that known to her? You were able to see his expression as she ascended the stairs. He watched after her as if she was some grand prize with a twinkle to his eyes and a smirk playing at his lips. She was a prize, you supposed, she was an elf. Truly unattainable, with beauty that men merely dreamed of finding. She was mysterious and strong.

And what were you?

You had nothing to your name. Your only talent was in what your mother and the family kept you as a ward taught you - healing and gardening. You didn’t suppose you were all that beautiful. No one had attempted to court you. You were not mysterious or battle hardened or the daughter of a noble bloodline.

You were just you.

Of course, she would be the prize.

Quietly, you slipped from the shadows and made your way to where Halbrand stood. You saw his smile, and perhaps if you hadn’t been so caught in your insecurities you’d see how he looked at you as if you were the dawn itself. But his smile faded slightly when he saw your face.

“Sweet one?” His hands reached through the bars for your hand, which you simply pulled away from him. His brows furrowed in confusion.

“I brought this for you,” You slipped him the cloth full of bread, fish, fruits, and cheese along with the skin full of wine.

His eyes never left yours, sitting it all behind him on the bench as your eyes looked at the ground. “Will you not look at me? Are you upset about this? It was simply a…”

“Dispute about a woman,” you repeated his words back to him. You saw his expression shift. He knew you heard his conversation.

“Sweet one…” He started.

“I could find contentment in a friendship with you. That would be an honor,” Your words echoed what you were told mere hours before.

“Friendship?” He laughed softly in disbelief, looking at you as if you grew two heads, “I told you of my intentions, and I meant it.”

“I do not know if you did. I do not know if you know what it is you want. I do not want to fight in a competition with the elf when I know I would lose it.”

“What are you talking about?” He breathed the words out.

“I see how it is you look at her. I hear how you two talk. I am not stupid enough to think that you do not want for her as she does for you. In talks of what your future holds, you never mentioned me.”

He scoffed, “You are reading too much into it.”

“I do not think that I am.”

“Do not reduce this to mere friendship. Please, sweet one.” He looked at you as if his heart was breaking, his eyes frantically searching your face for an answer.

“I need to go,” you backed away from the cell.

His fingers reached for you, but you pulled away, “Please, sweet one, please do not go when I can not follow.”

You spoke no more words, turning on your heels and wiping at the hot tears that were spilling from your eyes. You ignored the desperate calls of your name as you ascended the stairs. The only thing you could see was the way his face lit up when he saw Galadriel.

#halbrand x reader #sauron x reader #halbrand x oc #sauron x oc #annatar x reader #annatar x oc #trop fanfiction #trop x reader #rings of power x reader #rings of power fanfiction #halbrand x galadriel #annatar x galadriel #sauron x galadriel #isildur x reader

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eat-limes-bitches · 11 months ago

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Not Allowed To Die

PAIRING: Female Reader x Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY: We never know how much time we have left and fate is a cruel mistress. We can only make the best of the time we have left.

WARNINGS: ANGST! Like omg so much angst not really a happy ending but it's not super sad either. Sad! Bucky, mentions of death, dying, tears

Word Count: 755

A/N: Would you like to be sad and or have your heart ripped out? Good. I was thinking about this the other day and it just felt like something so raw and real to talk about, especially since this is one of my greatest fears.

Enjoy! <3

It was around three am when Bucky woke up with a start. He heaved deep breaths into his lungs, physically willing his heart to slow down. He looked to his side and saw her still asleep, the moonlight drifting in through the window casting a halo on her hair as steady, strong, breaths fanned across her pillow. It was the sight of her next to him in their bed that allowed Bucky to finally catch his breath. He reached over with his flesh hand and traced her features with his finger, mapping every dip and curve, freckle and crease on her face, permanently ingraining her face into his mind.

His feather touches eventually woke her up. Her brows furrowed together as a sleepy “James?” left her lips. Her eyes fluttered open and landed on the man staring at her with worry and fear etched deep into his features.

“James? What’s wrong?” She mumbled as she started to sit herself up. Bucky stared at her for a moment before blurting out “You are not allowed to die before me.”

This surprised her. She sat up a little quicker and looked at him, “What?”

Taking a deep breath, Bucky repeated himself, “You are not allowed to die before me. You, just can’t.”

She let out a deep sigh as she leaned back against the headboard keeping her gaze trained on the man she loved.

“Now James,” She started, reaching for his hand, “What on Earth brought this up, my love?”

Bucky takes a shuddery breath, his throat suddenly becoming tight as he tries to speak.

“I- I just realized how fragile all of this is. I realized that I m-might lose you and that scares me. I’ve already lost so much, I don’t think I’d be able to handle losing you too.” He chokes out, tears starting to sting his eyes, threatening to spill.

“I can’t lose you. I- I have to go before you.”

Now her throat constricted, the thought of him leaving before she did was not a foreign thought to her, with his line of work, there is always a possibility that he won’t come back, but something about him making that statement when the world was silent weighed a little more on her.

“Well that’s n-not exactly fair is it?” She choked out as tears started rolling down her cheeks. Bucky reached over and cupped her face in his hand.

“I s’pose no darlin’” He murmured as his breath caught in his chest.

“B-but I just can’t lose you. I- I wouldn’t survive it” He choked on a sob as his admission hung in the air. Y/n sighs and gathers Bucky up in her arms, tears still streaming down her face.

“Baby, we can’t avoid it. It’s inevitable but I need you to promise me something ok?” She says softly, pulling away slightly so she can look Bucky in the eye.

“If I do die before you, don’t let that grief bury you alive, my love, ok?” Bucky opens his mouth to speak before she silences him.

“Take each day as it comes. And promise me, when the pain eases, you'll let yourself feel joy again.”

“But, you’re my everything darlin’,” Bucky sobbed, pulling her into his arms. She wound her arms around him, further deepening the embrace.

“And you are mine. But you know what my ma told me? Love doesn't end with death. It transforms into memories, moments that live on, even when the people in them are long gone.”

The pair sat in silence, content to just sit in one another's embrace before Y/n pulled away taking a deep breath.

“Now, as things sit, right here, right now, at this moment, I’m not going anywhere any time soon ok? We still have a lot of living to do, together, alright?” Bucky nodded.

“But I’m still afraid.” He whispered.

“And that’s ok, my love,” She whispered as a ghost of a smile danced across her features, “As long as we don’t let that fear cloud the beauty that surrounds us right now.”

Y/n laid back down, pulling Bucky down with her so that his head was resting on her chest where he could hear her heartbeat.

“We’re going to grow old together, and make lots of memories, so when the time comes, and one of us has to go, we have a lifetime of love behind us. And who knows,” She whispered, “Maybe, just maybe we will go hand in hand, and I’ll follow you into the dark.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky angst #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky x reader angst #bucky x you angst #bucky barnes x you angst

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fallingdownhell · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! I love your writing! :D Ive never made a request before so i hope i am in the right place haha. I'm being completely self-indulgent here... but could I get Kaeya, Wanderer, Tighnari, or Diluc ( or anyone else you may want to write for) fluff with a reader who is sweet and kind? Like they dont have a mean bone in their body, constantly compliment their s/o, cook them cute breakfast pancakes in the shape of a heart, bunny or with a smiley face,,, wear clothes that match theirs/clothes in their favorite color. Just super pure wholesome relationship shenanigans. :3 Thank you!! I hope this all made sense. And if you'd rather not write this then that's totally okay!!

First of, thank you so much for saying that. It really means a lot to me<3

Second, you're fine, it made perfect sense. I don't usually write a lot of fluff, even though I adore it, so I don't know if I'm any good at it.

But I gave it my all, so I hope something good did come out of it.

Characters Included: Diluc, Tighnari, Wanderer, Kaeya

Content: just pure fluff, nothing to worry about

Word count: 2,1k words

Thank you so much for your request. Hope you enjoy<3

Diluc

Your sweet and caring personality is a stark contrast to Diluc's own rough and closed of one, so I feel like at first, it would be a bit too much for him

He definitely has to get used to it first

He can't remember the last time he was showered in compliments that didn't regard his strength or wealth

simply just you existing, complimenting his choice of clothes, his hair or anything else, has this man speechless and sometimes, even blushing

and if you ever were to give him a... riskier compliment.. hope you enjoy watching a malfunctioning Diluc right in front of you

his face would explode in all shades of red, stuttering like crazy, trying to process what you just said

Diluc can take a bit of teasing, but don't take it too far with him or he will combust on the spot

the relationship with you also greatly improved his communication skill. He is still rather reserved and quiet, but he is a good listener and great at remembering stuff

over time, it gets easier for him to communicate about his wants and needs, what he likes and doesn't like

he can now openly talk about it with you, without fearing to upset you of feeling guilty about it, because he felt like that would be too selfish of him

everyone around you can see what a great influence you are to Diluc's everyday life

He feels much more at peace and doesn't look like he's constantly on edge, like he's about to murder the next person that comes into his line of vision

I feel like Diluc's love language would be quality time. He likes to spend time together, just the two of you. And he doesn't really care how the time is spend

It could be on a long walk, baking or cooking together in his kitchen, cuddling on the couch or the bed, he really doesn't care as long as he gets to be alone with you, no one and nothing to distract you around

invites you to permanently live with him in his mansion after only a few months of dating. Would be understanding if you told him that this would be too fast for you, but if you agree? He's over the moon, because that means he can spend every single second of the day with you when he's also at home

really grew to enjoy cuddling over the course of the relationship. Didn't see the appeal of it at the start, but now he knows why everyone is such a big fan of it

Cuddling is a must when you lay in bed together at night, he can't really sleep right anymore without you hugged close to him. He needs you right by his side

Diluc becomes more vocal a bit later on, starting to also give you compliments

overall, he needs a lot of time to settle in and feel comfortable in a relationship, but if you are willing to give him the time he needs, the rewards you'll get will be so worth it

Tighnari

Now, I may be a bit biased with him, because I love Tighnari, but I don't care

Tighnari would be a very attentive lover

he dates only with the intention of settling down and having a forever with you, so if you're not up for that, please tell him upfront so he doesn't waste his time

would take great pride if he is the sole provider for the both of you, since his instincts play a big part in that

he would take his time in a relationship, trying to ascertain if it works out between you two

feels very sure and secure in the relationship, but that doesn't mean that he never gets jealous

funnily enough, I headcanon Tighnari as one of the most jealous men ever. He knows you would never do anything to him behind his back, but he can't help his instincts. And when every little thought in his head just yells "MINE" he can't help but act on them. Don't blame him for it.

once he is sure that you are the right one for him and that he wants to spend his life with you, he would sit you down and talk to you about mating

he told you a few things about it and how he and his instincts work (because he is a hybrid and all), but he never went into too much detail

if you were to agree to becoming his life partner and mate, he would be so happy that he starts crying a bit

hugs you close to him and doesn't let you go for the entire night

He never thought that love and romance would be for him, nevertehless thought that he would ever find a mate in the first place. So excuse him for feeling overjoyed at the way his live is playing out right now

Tighnari's love language I think would be both physical touch and acts of service

he loves to pamper you and one of the best ways to do that would be to help you with household chores

every once in a while, when you decide to sleep in a bit, don't be too surprised when you wake up to the dishes from the night before being done and properly stored already.

The laundry that you washed and folded but didn't put away yet? Suddenly gone and neatly stocked in the closet.

When asking him about it, he just looks at you and goes "What? Am I not allowed to help my mate around the house a bit?"

Doesn't really expect a reward from you, but also won't complain if you give him kisses and cuddles for his help.

He really, REALLY, enjoys your cooking. Even when sometimes you make stuff he's not really into, he still eats it and every time finds something he does enjoy about the meal. But maybe that's just the effect you have on him as a whole..

Also, physical touch.. Tighnari can't go a day without touching you. It starts every morning, instisting to stay in bed for five more minutes for morning cuddles.

You're still cooking when he comes home from a long day? Hugs you from behind, kisses your neck and either helps you with the cooking, or just stays there and basks in your presence

He has to touch you in some way, shape or form every time he sees you, even if you just walk by him. He can't help it, just let him induldge, please

Wanderer

Now this man..

Hope you brought some patience with you, because you're going to need it

Before even thinking of getting into a relationship with him, you first have to earn his trust. And that's not something easily achievable

But, if you manage to do it and make him fall in love with you while doing it? Congratulations, he will be your forever loyal and loving partner from now on

He's still very bad at communicating, so maybe learn to read between the lines with him

He always acts like he doesn't like stuff that you do, but if you look closely, you can see the way he turns his head so you don't notice his red cheeks or how his tone gets a bit softer when he's embarrassed about something

In reality, he loves and appreciates everything you do for him

Even though he never fails to tell you how ridiculous you are for making his breakfast pancake into a heart-shaped form, he still quietly sits down and eats it, head turned to escape your gaze. He just hopes you'll never see how red his face gets every time

He once saw a stall on a market he was walking through that sold necklaces. On a whim, he bought one that had a single, indigo coloured crystal dangling from the string

When he noticed you wearing it almost every day, he felt like he suddenly gained a heart, and it leaped and wanted to jump out of his chest again. He didn't say anything but just hugged you from behind, holding you a bit tighter than he usually did

I think Wanderer would appreciate you even more if your love language happened to be words of affirmation

He can't even begin to tell you how much it means to him to get that constant, verbal reassurance that you love him and want to be with him

It's something he still struggles a lot with, not thinking that he's worthy of all the time and effort you put into him. But your words really help him, it starts to sink in that you're with him because you want to, not because he manipulated you or anything

As for the Wanderer himself, I feel physical touch would most likely be his love language

Not only because he gets the physical reassurance that you're actually here with him and this whole thing is not just a delusion or dream his mind came up with. It's also because it reminds him that you're alive and well in his arms, and you're not planing on going anywhere

one of his favourite moments is when you two cuddle, either in bed or on the couch, with his head laid on your chest. He can clearly hear your heartbeat like that. He feels safe listening to it and it is a safe method for him to enter the dreamworld without much problem.

A very devoted lover, although difficult at first, but again, the pay-off is more than worth the effort

Kaeya

There is one, very important rule in a relationship with Kaeya. One he will never, under no circumstances, ever break

Once a week, there will be a couple's night

During that time, the both of you stay at home together. No outings, no work, no going out with friends or family, nothing

Just the two of you, dressing up in cute little matching onesies, making dinner together (maybe have a little food war in the kitchen), cuddle up on the couch afterwards

Sometimes you play games together, other times it's a full on spa night with face masks, where you give each other massages and just pamper the other.

But the both of you are so grateful that you decided to implement this rule into your relationship

Kaeya's job as a knight can get rather busy from time to time, it happened on more than one occaison that he stayed at the headquarters for a few days uninterrupted. During that time period, you rarely got to see him.

Still, when it was time for date night, neither of you made exeptions. No matter how much work was waiting for him, Kaeya would put it on hold for this night. Because that's what you both agreed on and also, he really needs the break. He missed your presence and touch

Kaeya is another one who I think expresses his love for you through physical touch and quality time.

Precisely because he doesn't always have much time to spend with you, every second counts for him. To him, it does not matter how that time is spent, so long as it's with you

There could be thousands of other people around you, it could be on a night out with friends. As long as he gets to touch you, feel you close to him and have you there with him, he is happy.

Kaeya also trust you deeply. You're one of the only people he feels comfortable enough around to take his eye patch off.

Once you learned that his right eye is fine under that patch - except for a not so nice looking vertikal scar - and saw it for the first time, Kaeya also told you the story behind how he got that scar

Of course he is scared about your reaction to it, but when you lean close to him and softly kiss the scar, he realized that he never, not even for a second, had to worry about it. Because it's you. You are here with him, you make him feel loved and cared for. Of course there was no reason for him to ever doubt you

Wants to put a ring on your hand as soon as he can, but with how hectict his life can get, he would rather wait for it to calm down

But he knows, deep down, that you will be the only person he will ever love like that. And for nothing in this world would he ever let go of you..

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writethrough · 2 years ago

Note

feel free to imagine a sexy interpretation. Also, I'm going to add a loss of virginity here just for fun. In this scenario, Dream is finally willing to admit to himself that he loves the reader, but he's still not willing to confess (and he's also still a possessive/obsessive jerk), so instead he chases after the woman's dreams, especially until even your wet dreams. And 2 possible catalysts here, either Dream sees that the reader is dreaming about having sex with someone else and becomes insanely jealous or he sees someone flirting with the reader in the waking world and becomes insanely jealous XD. This is so Dream, like a king, he feels entitled to the reader and his time, and while he's trying to work up the courage to confess, he makes sure the reader can't hook up with anyone else.

I Am Yours, But Are You Mine

(Morpheus x Female Reader)

Warnings: Minor language, suggestive situations, kinda possessive Morpheus

Word Count: 1651

A/N: Oh my goodness, thank you so much for being so patient! Unfortunately, Morpheus has been one of those characters that I haven't been as motivated to write. And I hate forcing myself to write when I'm uninspired. Thankfully, I found sparks of it here and there.

I tried to follow your request as truly as I could (the lost of virginity didn't quite make it), but I ran with your possible catalyst options! I do think I need to work on my jealous/entitled Morpheus, though. I think he could've turned out better.

Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it! And thank you for requesting it!

Images of you and that human haunted him. It was all he could think about as he sat on the staircase to his throne. How that man approached you. How he smiled, and you returned it. How he made you laugh, soft and delicate.

Morpheus’ jaw tightened, and he snapped his book shut.

Was it too late?

Had he lost you before he could have you?

He closed his eyes, trying to fight those thoughts with the ones of you and him.

How, when Morpheus appeared, you greeted him with warmth and tenderness. How you touched his arm in reassurance or when you were startled. You knew he would protect you. It was instinctual how you moved closer and tucked yourself behind him.

He had never felt more vital.

And yet, earlier, you had that same kindness for that man.

How long had you known him? When did you meet him? What was he to you?

You would have told Morpheus about any romantic partners.

His fist clenched as his arm hung off his knee.

To think, mere days ago, he had realized that he loved you. He would have been content to dedicate himself to you silently. An ever-present confidant for his heart’s deepest desire. How quickly things could change.

He had to do something.

—

Morpheus had grown more agitated throughout the day. The more he thought about you and that man, the darker his mind became.

He had finished crafting new nightmares when he sensed you had entered the Dreaming.

He had to go to you. He needed to know what that man wanted from you—and if you wanted anything from him.

You didn’t need anything from that human.

He was quick to find you within your dream.

A replica of your home, which he found strange. Rarely did your dreams play out here. You were usually conscious within the Dreaming. And his heart went out to you, knowing your day must have been stressful.

He peered into your room and nearly unleashed every nightmare in his realm.

You were laid bare with that man hovering over you.

Morpheus’ knuckles whitened. And before he could think better—before he could calm himself. He swiped the dream away and sent you into the Waking World.

—

You woke with a frustrated groan.

Of course. Of course, you had to wake up when things were getting good.

You scrunched your nose when you recalled who had been in your dream.

You sighed. At least your subconscious knew not to dream about Morpheus in his kingdom. You might actually die if that happened.

Though, the replacement for him wasn’t all bad. You had noticed the similarities when you met him right away. Tall, black hair, lithe, but his eyes were brown and not the blue you had come to love. And where Morpheus’ presence held authority and power, the stranger’s had a shyness, a quiet confidence that you may have been attracted to in a different time. However, you only wanted one being.

You stretched before climbing out of bed.

You weren’t sure when you realized you loved Morpheus, but after you internalized it, you promised to never act on it.

There had to be hundreds, if not thousands, of creatures who had fallen for the Dream King. And yet, you had only heard of two that captured his attention. Who were you to think you stood a chance of being his? He was one of the most important beings in existence. You were a measly human—here and gone before he could blink.

You shook your head.

You were grateful for Morpheus’ friendship. He listened and held an interest in you that you couldn’t understand. You would gladly take whatever relationship you could have with him.

You slowly got ready for your day. You had more time with your early waking and decided to do more with your makeup. It had been years since you applied makeup for someone else’s benefit. But you wondered if Morpheus would notice anything different.

Scrunching your nose again, you rid that thought from your mind. Morpheus didn’t care about how you looked. He’d told you appearances meant little to him, that it was dreaming that held someone’s true soul.

You wished you could know his.

—

Morpheus would’ve broken his teeth if he were human—and perhaps his wrist, too, if he squeezed any tighter.

He stood with his hands behind his back, staring out the stained glass windows in his throne room.

He had stopped your dream from continuing, but the reality was different.

His entire arsenal of power was at his disposal. Morpheus could do whatever he wished to that human, but that would only end in you being upset with him—or furious if extreme enough.

No, Morpheus had to prove himself. He had to make you see that he was the only one for you—that only he could provide for and protect you—stand by you in the way you deserved.

And he’d do so tonight.

—

Morpheus appeared in your kitchen doorway, mind racing. Anger and fear and uncertainty beneath a stony exterior.

And then he saw you. As stunning as ever.

And it all vanished.

All except his desire to tell you.

Your kindness and strength had lured him to you the moment you met. He’d come to know how closely you held those you cared about, and somehow, he was one of them.

And the thought of letting you go, of you choosing someone else…he couldn’t fathom that.

You brought him so much peace.

You spun from your refrigerator to your island, produce in hand, and finally saw him.

“Shit, Morpheus!” You held a hand to your heart. “Give me a warning next time.”

His face remained as still as ever, but you swore you saw a passing gleam in his eyes.

“My sincerest apologies,” he said, stepping toward you.

You waved it away, half believing him.

“Want anything to drink?” you asked, chopping the first ingredient.

He scanned the food, but you weren’t entirely sure he was seeing it.

“I must ask something of you,” he said.

“Okay.” You placed the knife down. “What is it?”

“Have you found someone?”

You tilted your head, brow pinched. “Found someone?”

Morpheus never hesitated when speaking—and you weren’t sure that was the word for it now—but something made him consider his next question carefully.

“Are you spoken for?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, slowly connecting the dots.

“Are you asking if I’m dating anyone?” Your heart picked up. He had never asked something so intimate before.

“Yes.”

“No.” You licked your lips. “No. What brought this on?”

The faintest pink graced his cheeks. His eyes shifted to the side, then back.

“...You dreamt of him.” He breathed like something terrible would happen if he spoke louder.

Your heart clenched at his look of betrayal, trying to recall what he meant. Then, your eyes widened. He must have seen what happened at the coffee shop.

“Are you talking about that guy who came up to me?” you asked.

Morpheus shifted his chin downward, the most movement he used for a nod, and didn’t break eye contact.

“Morpheus…I don’t even remember his name,” you said, being as gentle with him as possible.

The space between his brows twitched. “You dreamt of him.”

Your head dropped in embarrassment.

You shrugged. “It’s been a while.”

It wasn’t much of an explanation. Although the guy had been attractive, you weren’t interested in him when he spoke—something unnecessary in dreams. All he had to do was get the job done, but with Morpheus' attitude, you could guess why that dream ended before anything could happen.

“Are you…jealous?” you asked.

“I am a king. I do not experience jealousy.” His head lifted ever so slightly.

“Historically, you do,” you said pointedly, trying to hide your smirk.

He hummed as if annoyed, but you knew better. You had stumped him.

“You are fortunate I hold you dear,” he said. “Not many can speak to me as such.”

You laughed breathily and stepped forward, grateful your answer pacified him.

You regarded him carefully. The smooth plains of his face, the sharp lines of his jaw and nose, his blue eyes. His lips. Your feelings for Morpheus were bubbling to the surface in a way you couldn’t ignore, and to think he possibly returned them? It nearly sent your head spinning.

“You know…I wouldn’t mind if you were a little jealous,” you said.

“And why is that?” He arched a brow, trying to remain composed.

“Because then it would mean you share my feelings,” you whispered. “It would mean I could kiss y—”

Lips were on yours—warm and powerful, a surge of pent-up passion. He’d waited far too long to taste you, to know the curves of your hips and the dip in your spine.

Your body melded into his as if he was the lock and you were the key. You opened him up to things he never thought he’d want to experience again. And you kept his secrets. You protected him. Made him feel safe. He was desperate to do the same for you.

You pulled away, but Morpheus followed, giving you quick kisses until you put a hand on his chest, laughing.

“Just…give me a second.” You inhaled. “One of us needs to breathe.”

The faintest pink graced his cheeks, and you grinned.

“I apologize. It slipped my mind,” Morpheus said.

You shook your head. “Don’t. Never apologize for doing that.”

You pecked his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, and lingered just beyond his lips.

“Guess I have someone else to dream about,” you whispered, each word brushing your lips against his.

He let out a low rumble. “There is no need to dream.”

His hands grasped the back of your neck and pulled you into him. You moaned when his sand whirled around you, knowing exactly where you were headed.

Taglist: @sayumiht, @hatterripper31, @snowsatsu, @1950schick, @navs-bhat, @bookshelf-dust, @sapphireonline

If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on.

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kyokutsu-sama · 11 months ago

Note

Hello! Glad to see you back! Can I request Aizen x Stronger Reader? The reader is cold towards Aizen, but somehow he falls in love first then her? Like enemies to lovers?

A/n: Hi!! Enemies to lovers has my heart and I'm happy to be receiving requests like this❤️

Tw: Suggestive content

Not even he could explain how things happened, it took time but he realized… or maybe he was already aware that this would be visible sooner or later. Cold to the core, strong and firm holding the hilt of your sword. He initially thought you were just going to be another pawn on his board but you, you were not to be underestimated. You knew about his plans and he knew that you knew, he wasn't afraid that you would tell the others about it because he was aware that you didn't care and so you wouldn't be a problem, but your coldness towards him could turn out to be.

He used to give you long looks, greet you in the hallways and even tease you because you thought you were one step away from him and his plans. At least that's what you thought and he liked it when you thought that. The more you hated him and avoided his presence, the more he insisted on staying close to you, proof of this was when you arrived at your room and found him rummaging through the papers on your desk. The tip of your sword went straight to his throat and he smiled at you when he saw you cross his eyes with your cold ones, he wasn't afraid of you or what you would do. That strange feeling was running through his veins again when that moment happened and a small drop of sweat ran down his face. Something that would not be usual for a man like him.

"What are you looking for, Aizen?" You said through gritted teeth

"Actually I was waiting for you to show up and while you were out, I was just taking a look at the things you had here. I hope I didn't bother you in any way" He explained himself with his look saying the opposite of what the words

"You already bothered me when you set foot here"

"I'm sorry, but I needed to come here." He walked away from the table and you sheathed your sword. "I think we should clarify the things, don't you think?"

"There's nothing to clarify between us, we have nothing to do with each other"

"We have, my dear… more than you can imagine" He approached you with slow steps

"And what would it be ?"

"You know a lot of things about me, things you shouldn't know but I'm not going to do anything about it"

"Oh, I know ! Your evil plans, is that it?" You joked, crossing your arms and looking at him

"My evil plans ?"He smiled at the way you named it

"I'm not interested in them even if I already know your moves"

"Are you sure?" He asked and you pondered for a moment. "Maybe when I reach the throne, you'll want to join me. It's not a bad plan and if you see what I'm trying to do, you should agree. I really admire you, you know? Your skills are exceptional and so are you" He approached and ran a hand over your face

"Are you trying to seduce me, captain? It won't work" You smiled

"We won't know if we don't try, will we?" He said, taking your chin between his fingers."Maybe you're hiding what you really want or am I wrong?" He whispered in your ear and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

Yes, maybe he was right, maybe you even thought he was a little like your type. He was cold inside more than he let on and you could read that in his intense gaze, but he would have to do better than that to get what he wanted from you. You weren't willing to give him everything so easily.

"What about you Aizen? Is there something you want to tell me that you're trying to hide? I thought you were colder and not given to romance" You teased. "What's wrong? Do I weaken you?"

"No, it's just a special affection for you, nothing more than that" He lied to himself at that moment and you knew

"Well, a special affection… I see you're a terrible liar" You chuckled. "But I must be thankful for admitting that you at least feel something. There's no need to be ashamed of it, you're more than that" You winked at him

"Are you so used to cliche romances that you can't react to more peculiar forms?"

"Romances of any kind have never been my type"

"So, what about love and hate? Two sides of the same coin" His hand slid around your waist and you let out a long sigh

"Are you referring to us?"

"You say you hate me, but your eyes say you love me. You're very easy to read, Y/n. Your words aren't what you really think, otherwise you would have already walked away from me while I touched you"He started placing kisses on the curve of your neck and shoulder

It was incredible how he had managed to turn the tables in his favor and point out in others the feelings that actually belonged to him.

"Aizen…" You tried to start a sentence but given that he was right in what he was saying, you even forgot what you were going to say

You hated feeling anything, no matter how small, for that man, he in turn felt the same way you did. His mask may have fallen but the feeling was there within the ice of his gaze.

"Am I right?"

"If you can satisfy me, maybe I'll say" You bit your lip, teasing him

"Miss Y/n, I always get what I want. I thought you also knew that beyond the plans"He said before finally reaching your lips

It was slow but warm, even though both hearts were cold. His hands gently pulled you closer to him and you placed a hand on his face and moved away from his lips, looking into his half-closed eyes.

"Am I part of your plans?" You asked

"You always were" He smiled, removing his glasses and put them aside and kissed you again

#bleach #bleach fandom #bleach imagines #bleach x reader #aizen sosuke #aizen x reader

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stayandot8 · 11 months ago

Text

Insomnia

Genre: Smut, 18+. Minors, do not interact

Relationship type: established boyfriend/girlfriend

Important Contents: smut, so 18+. MDNI. Oral (fem rec., p in v, unprotected (wrap it before you tap it kids), cockwarming) that's all I can think of, if I missed any let me know. Other than that, I'm...just gonna leave this here okayBYE

WC: 2.3k

masterlist

We went to bed two hours ago. Or at least, it felt like two hours had gone by since we laid down. I was snuggling my Wolfchan when I felt his human counterpart lay down behind me and wrap his arms around my waist. His breathing hadn’t changed since he laid down and he kept shifting around much like I had. My guess was that he had too much on his mind, like always. End of the year awards and performances and such. So it was no surprise that I hadn’t heard him start to snore yet.

It seemed I just couldn’t turn my mind off, even though I didn’t have any performances to worry about. Everytime I would feel myself grow closer to falling asleep, something would pop into my mind and drag me back out. It happened a couple times, I would be so close and I would literally feel myself being dragged back into my conscious mind with something else. And when it happened, I would just move ever so slowly until I got comfortable again so as to try not to disturb my boyfriend behind me. It was no use though. His snores never came, so the only logical explanation was that he was just as awake as I was.

“Chris.” I whispered into the darkness. A groan answered me, not exactly happy about it but willing to answer nonetheless. “Did you know that lemons are actually man-made?”

Silence.

Then a very groggy

“What?”

“Yeah, something about sour oranges and citrons.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw it on a tikok earlier today.”

“Baby, I love you. But I need to sleep.”

“We’ve both been trying for the past hour. It’s not working.”

A huff, knowing I was right but not willing to give up just yet. I turned around to face him, still with his arms locked around me. I couldn’t see his face that well in the dark, but I knew his eyes were still closed with resignation. I felt his breath as he sighed, knowing he wasn’t getting any sleep no matter how hard he tried.

“I think my mind is just going too fast and I can’t turn it off.”

“I know. Me too. But yours makes more sense because of how much you have coming up. You guys have so much to do during the end of the year, I don’t understand why they sign you up for so much.”

“Well, some of it is us. We want to do it.”

“I know. You’re all workaholics.”

“Can’t help it. We love what we do.” A pause. And a sudden… change in the air. He shifted closer to me. “You know what else I love?”

“Hm?”

“You.” He kissed my forehead. Then my cheek. Then the other.

“Well I would hope so. I am laying in a bed with you in the middle of the night with no intention of going back to the apartment I pay to live in even though I barely live there anymore. Although you sleeping shirtless is such a nice plus.” He ignored me and continued kissing those lips along my neck. He loved being around me, voicing this often enough until I started to believe him around our third month of dating. We couldn’t stay apart for very long, both of us equally needing the other like water to a fish. No matter how hard we tried, we just couldn’t stand to be apart unless forced to because of tour.

“Do you know what else I love?” His voice was thick with sleep, giving him a lower register that made my toes curl. He was still kissing me, leaving little chills wherever his lips planted. They were traveling lower and lower, from my neck to my throat to my collarbone over my heart. He noticed my breathing getting heavier and faster, goosebumps popping up everywhere he went and shifted so he was leaving over me. The moonlight shone just enough through the curtained window that I could watch his eyes go from sleepily distant to focused and alert. He watched my lashes flutter and my eyes darted to him, waiting for him to make his next move. Now I knew where this was going. And I knew it would work.

“What?” I asked, breathless. My nipples ached with how hard they had become in such a short amount of time. They poked through his t-shirt that I usually wore to bed. He caught sight of them and smiled to himself. He ever so lightly grasped the bottom of the worn cloth and lifted it slowly, to tease me further and let the anticipation grow. The sudden chill of the air was too apparent to me now, trying to appease the flush of blood now running hot through my veins.

“These.” He leaned down to blow his hot air straight on my nipple, the contradicting air making them ache impossibly more. I bit my lip to keep from groaning, but it didn’t suffice. It came out anyway, more strangled than if I had just let it out. “These beautiful tits are just perfect for me. I love how they look when you just get out of the shower-” He stuck out his tongue to press it against them, the muscle swirling circles around and around and he kissed it lightly. “And you’ve got your towel wrapped around you-” He kissed it again. “You hold it close to your chest and it makes them bigger somehow.” He latched on to it and tugged it enough so that when he let go, it bounced back gently. “Ugh. and that. That-” He sucked harder this time, making sure to swirl his tongue as he tugged it back further and let go. “-is my favorite fucking thing.”

He did the same to the other nipple, my hands flying to his hair as he worked his magic. My moans were useless to fight against now, growing louder and louder. I was sure that someone would knock and yell at us to cut it out. Shame I didn’t care.

He was too good.

His warm and wet lips licked and kissed and sucked and bounced their fill until my underwear was soaked, the scent of it now inescapable.

“Chris, please. Please, I need something.”

“What, baby? What does my pretty girl want?” He asked as he was sucking a hickey right above my heart, his favorite place to leave them. So you’ll always have me close to your heart, he once said. He had already left them scattered around my chest, knowing they were my favorite place to have them. He always kissed them after leaving them, especially the ones he knew would leave deeper marks. After the last one, he gently removed my entangled hands from his hair and started moving southward, leaving a trail of featherlight kisses in his path.

“There. I need you there.” I managed to whisper into the darkness. He let out a huff of laughter.

“You mean right where I’m headed? I know baby, I know you. I know you better than you know yourself.” He whispered into my thigh before he kissed it softly. “Don’t I.” He dragged my panties down just as slowly as he had lifted my shirt and threw them somewhere.

It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. He did. He really did. He knew what I liked before I had even told him. I didn’t have to. It was the way he knew me, like we were the same person.

He kissed his way up my thigh, skipped over my core to do the same thing to my left leg. I was writhing now, dying with the anticipation. He was good at making me wait, knowing just when it was too much. Like now.

He dove in with no warning, earning a gasp and yelp wrapped into one. He went straight for my clit, sucking as hard as he had with my breasts. He wanted to suck me dry just to make me wet again, just to prove to me that he could. He anchored himself by wrapping his arms around my thighs, something we learned the hard way that he needed to do or else they would squeeze his head. Not that he minded, but he made me lose all control of every limb that it made me feel safer. When he hooked his arms, he pulled me forward, bringing me straight to his waiting mouth. My fingers found his hair once again for something to hold onto, the feeling of the rapid increase of pressure in my core almost too much. The sounds of him sucking and moaning into my folds added to the fuzzy feeling that was clouding my brain, making it impossible to do anything but feel the pleasure this beautiful man loved to give. My mouth was stuck in an ‘O’ with the cries of pleasure coming from an exceptional suck here or a plunge of his tongue in my pussy.

He unhooked an arm as he slowed down to ease the intensity of the pressure. The feeling of clenching on nothing was so frustrating that I felt myself pulling at his hair harder than normal. But the harder I seemed to pull, the louder his own moans became. When he slowed enough for me to realize how hard I had gripped him, I released his hair. He pulled away, a string of our mixed juices following his insanely shiny lips.

“No, don’t you let go. You pull as hard as you need to.” His sultry tone was the reassurance I needed to do just that. I threaded them back through and he put a finger in his mouth then resumed, licking slowly circles on my clit once more. He pushed the wetted finger in my entrance, but it wasn’t enough.

“More.” I whispered, and he obliged. He thrust another finger in, the two stretching me as they drew apart. He was going slow, too slow, torturously slow. “Channie, you’re going too slow.”

“Baby, that’s not my name.”

“Daddy, faster, please.” I whined, ready to beg as much as I needed to to just get him to move faster…

“That’s my girl.” He picked up the pace, thrusting his digits faster until I was clenching again. “Is my pretty girl gonna cum?” I nodded frantically, the bubble so close to popping.

And then he stopped. I waited, trying to catch my breath. And then I heard, very loudly, him sucking on something. He was sucking my wetness from his fingers and staring, hard, at my pussy.

“Wha-”

“I want to cum with you.” It wasn’t a command, more like a declaration. One made from desperation as deep as mine. His boxers were off and he was stroking himself already. “You’re still on the pill?”

“You ask me this every time and yet the answer is always the same.”

“Good. because I don’t think I could pull out tonight if I tried.”

He lined himself up, prodding at my entrance and held himself there. He leaned over me once again, gently kissing me until I wrapped my arms around his neck and forced him closer. He slid the rest of the way and I gasped into our kiss. His size still surprised me even now. He always felt big no matter how many times we slept together.

We moaned together when he was fully inside and when he started thrusting, it was slower, more intimate. He was taking his time, contrasting his actions moments earlier. Every thrust up, my hips went with him, our breaths mingling as our foreheads stayed touching. With this slow pace, he was able to directly hit my g-spot with every thrust. I could feel him, all of him, in every move of his hips. He was taking his time feeling me, the warmth and the pleasure would crumble him if he went too quickly.

“I have to,” he said, reading my mind. Like he often did. “If I don’t I won’t last.”

“But I don’t want you to last. I want you to crumble like only I can make you.”

“Shit.” He buried his face in my neck. “You can’t just say shit like that, baby.”

I felt my bubble coming back, rising with the continued stimulation and essence of him. I might be the only one who could make him crumble, but my destruction button was well within his reach at all times. He knew I could fall apart with the right thrust, he just wasn’t hitting it. On purpose, I had just learned. Every nerve was on edge, every brush of his lips on my neck sending me higher. His hands roaming every which direction I could think of, cupping my chest and rolling my nipples with his fingertips, lighting them on fire. The bubble was closer and closer to popping with every lick, every thrust, every roll.

“Baby… baby, I’m close.”

“Me too. Let go, I’m right there with you.”

And like a match getting struck, the release sent waves and waves of pleasure through me. Chan’s orgasm hit him at the same time, filling my core with his warm seed. My hips moved of their own accord, meeting his thrusts in sync to ride it out together. His pants were mixing with my moans to fill the once dead air and drain any remaining energy I had left. He kissed my neck a few more times as we came down together, smiling as he did.

“I need to clean you up,” he started, cock still at attention inside me. “But I don’t want to move.”

“Stay. I don’t think I could get up if I tried.” They were the last words I could remember saying before the comforting darkness swept me away in its arms.

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yeoja-dream · 1 year ago

Text

Found/Fated/Forever

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Pairing: BTS OT7 x Reader Genre: Fantasy, eventual smut, porn with plot, slow burn, hurt/comfort Characters: Supernatural!BTS, Vampire!Jungkook, Supernatural!Reader Content Warning: Y/N in danger, medical scene & terminology Word Count: 3k

Jungkook held your body, cool, clammy, and lifeless in a state of panic. He didn’t mean to go that far, he thought desperately. He put his head on your chest and prayed to any gods that would listen that he hadn’t killed out outright, and a tiny blip of relief washed over him when he hurt the faint, slow beating of a heart. It wasn’t too late.

“What am I supposed to do?” He said, anxiously pacing. The idea hit him suddenly. If there was someone that could help, it was Namjoon.

Jungkook picked up your body, handling and cradling it like it was the most delicate flower. Standing in the middle of your apartment, in a puff of dark smoke, Jungkook willed the two of you to disappear, then reappear again on the roof of the largest general hospital in your city. At this time, the morning sun had begun cresting over the horizon, its warm rays falling onto the two of you. Jungkook for the first time felt his grip on you weaken and his muscles begin to strain and ache under your weight. Where you were weightless to him before, the sunlight was weakening him considerably. He wasted no further time dashing into the rooftop access door and into the hospital proper.

If Jungkook knew Kim Namjoon, and he was certain he did, he knew that it was almost certain that Namjoon hadn’t yet gone home from his shift as an emergency room attending. Jungkook hadn’t been to the hospital often, the stench of alcohol, death, blood, and other bodily fluids was overwhelming to his heightened senses and churned his stomach. Looking to blend in, he used the glamour magic afforded to him, disguising both of your forms as he navigated the halls, appearing to be just another doctor carrying a box of medical equipment. He paused, closing his eyes and concentrating, mentally pulling and tugging at the bond he shared with the older man.

Where are you? I am here.

Office. The bond answered back.

It wasn’t long until he was in front of the office of Dr. Kim Namjoon. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door.

Inside was a tired-looking, young man, busily typing and scratching down notes on a piece of paper. As Jungkook entered, he looked up, his expression initially pleased at seeing his mate quickly turned to one of shock and horror at what he was carrying.

“Hello Jungk-” Namjoon cut himself and stood suddenly from his desk, seeing the body he carried in his arms. “What the hell is this?”

“Help her, please,” Jungkook begged. “I can explain more later.”

Namjoon walked over, feeling for a pulse. “Did you do this to her?” He asked, his voice grave.

“Yes,” Jungkook replied, ashamed.

“Well you didn’t kill her,” Namjoon stated with a sigh. “She needs urgent treatment. Disguise yourself and bring her up to the 8th floor, B corridor, last room on the left. We will have a bit more privacy that way. I will be up right behind you.”

With a simple nod of solemn understanding, Jungkook turned on his heel, and made haste out of the office, following Namjoon’s instructions carefully. The B corridor on the 8th floor was sparsely populated, it appeared to be mostly storage for patient care monitors and machines, Jungkook noted passively. He tried the door of the aforementioned room, finding it unlocked, before letting himself in. The room was minimal, with a bed made up with only a pillow and a single fitted sheet, a bedside monitor, and a chair. Jungkook quickly laid you down on the bed before drawing the blinds to prevent any additional sunlight from getting in, it was making him feel like shit enough as it was.

It wasn’t much longer after Jungkook entered that Namjoon entered as well. He came, backpack slung over a shoulder and pushing a rolling table. Wordlessly, he unpacked the supplies and began setting you up on the monitors.

“Her pulse is thready, weak, and slow, but it's there. Regular rythm.” Namjoon noted out loud to no one in particular. “Her blood pressure is really low so I’m going to have to start her on a blood transfusion and fluids. Is that going to bother you, or do I have to kick you out?”

Jungkook shook his head emphatically. Namjoon nodded in understanding, but stood in place, unmoving.

“DO something!” Jungkook insisted, anxiously.

“I can count the number of times I’ve placed an IV on one hand and as for the IV pumps, they might as well be set to a foreign ancient language. I promise I am the last person you want handling this stuff. I’ve already paged my nurse, Clara. She should be here any moment.”

As if divinely timed, the door handle jiggled and opened, and a short, stout, human walked in. Clara was the veteran nurse of veteran nurses. She had been working since she graduated at the age of 22, she could place an IV in your forehead, she could run a code blue better than most of the resident doctors, and she was wise enough to know when to not ask too many questions.

“I got your page, Dr. Kim,” Clara said, walking in, and quickly assessing the situation.

“Clara, we are running a hypovolemic protocol on this patient. She needs bilateral peripheral IVs, 1-liter Lactated ringers at 120 milliliters an hour, packed red blood cells should run at 200 milliliters an hour, and platelets at 400. Take whatever blood you can and run a CBC, Jane Doe, stat. I have all the supplies here.”

“Yes, doctor,” Clara responded before quickly getting started. Clara worked fast and efficiently, with a work ethic born from years in the emergency room. Sliding the IVs in place, she expertly set up the fluids and blood products to transfuse and finally drew a vial of blood for testing. “I am going to run this to the lab. Will you be doing the transfusion monitoring, Doctor?”

“Yes. Thank you, Clara, for your work and your discretion,” Namjoon said, dismissing her. She excused herself with a simple head nod, and the two men were again alone in the room.

“She’s going to get better now, right?” Jungkook asked, bouncing his leg anxiously.

“She should,” Namjoon said, seriously. “But this is not over, and we will be discussing what the hell happened here because if I am doing some of the mental math here, I suspect this…” he said gesturing to you, “is an everyone problem.”

Jungkook looked away. The older man wasn’t usually so serious or harsh with him, and if he was honest with himself it definitely hurt on top of everything else that was going on, not that he didn’t deserve it.

The pair sat in silence for some time. Namjoon stood at your bedside carefully monitoring your vital signs. As the minutes passed, steadily your vital signs improved, and steadily Namjoon was able to relax.

“It was good you got here when you did,” Namjoon finally broke the silence. “She would have certainly died if you hadn’t.”

Jungkook swallowed hard at that. The last words you had said to him before this all started echoed in his mind, swallowing him with guilt. Please don’t hurt me.

After about 30 minutes, Namjoon received a message on his phone, your lab results. Confusingly, almost all the values were low. Did you even have any blood in your body, no one can survive this kind of low. Namjoon knitted his eyebrows together in confusion, and just as he was about to look up and question Jungkook, the monitoring alarms started blaring.

“Fuck!” Namjoon cursed. “She’s having a reaction to the blood. That should be impossible it’s O- blood, no one reacts to that! I checked it 5 times, FUCK! He cursed again.

“What do we do?” Jungkook stood now, panicked.

“Stay here, I need to get some medications I will be back as fast as I can.” Namjoon typically tapered his mannerisms and movements to the human world he worked in. He moved deliberately slowly, but at this moment, he allowed himself to use the maximum of his powers. Truly in a flash, he had gone and come back with armfuls of different medications he wasted no time in administering.

“This is really bad, Jungkook,” Namjoon said, looking over your body anxiously. “Her blood levels are so low, no human should have survived, and now she’s reacting to the one type of blood that everyone should be able to tolerate. I can give her some medications to encourage her body to make more blood cells faster, but I’m not sure she’ll survive that long.”

Jungkook stood, running his hands through his hair pacing. “She asked me not to hurt her, Joon. She asked me and I did this to her. She trusted me.” His voice waivered, boarding on tears.

“If I am right about what I suspect, you couldn’t control yourself, Kook,” Namjoon said, attempting to be comforting.

Jungkook continued to pace, chewing on his nails as he watched Namjoon attempt to resuscitate you.

“What if she wasn’t human?” Jungkook suddenly asked.

“What?” Namjoon asked, spinning around.

“What if she wasn’t human? She does crazy magic and her blood tasted weird. Different. I’ve drank a lot of human blood and it was never like that.”

Namjoon drew in a breath, answering in a cool, measured way. “You mean to tell me this woman can do magic and it’s only now occurring to you she’s probably not human? What human have you ever met that possesses anything resembling magic? Never mind the fact that her blood was completely unlike any other humans you’ve tasted, now I’m thinking the next thing we should be testing is your head because I’m desperately concerned that it is entirely empty!”

Jungkook looked down, ashamed, at the older man’s chiding.

“No wonder she had a reaction to the blood I gave her! Explains the impossibly low lab values too, she’s a bit more durable than the average human. Don’t be mistaken, these medications will likely have limited effect on her, and she is still gravely ill.”

“What can we do?” Jungkook asked, eyes misty.

“We,” Namjoon said emphasizing the word. “Can’t do a whole lot. You can teleport to Baba Yena and hope she’s feeling charitable today.”

Jungkook groaned internally. Baba Yena was known to be exceptionally powerful, but exceptionally apathetic. Legend states that she was older than time, older than the gods and the powers that created them. She possessed incredible powers, but was, in a word, incredibly stingy to whom she blessed with them. Jungkook’s run-ins with the woman had been scarce, but the few times he had, were certainly memorable. At all costs, he had wanted to avoid being around her, but on the other hand, it was the least he owed you after nearly taking your life.

With a heavy sigh and crossed fingers, Jungkook walked to the center of the room, and in yet another puff of black smoke instantly disappeared, leaving Namjoon alone with your body.

He sat next to your bedside, going between monitors, checking medication flow rates, and staring at you.

“If you keep fighting, I will fight for you,” Namjoon said. “Welcome to the family.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook appeared suddenly and to his relief in front of a large, dome-shaped house. Baba Yena’s house was located in a pocket dimension, and without the proper talismans or magic symbols, teleportation here was… unreliable. The house itself seemed to be made out of packed dirt or fired brick, the roof overgrowing with moss. The house was seemingly the only thing in the pocket dimension, and aside from Baba Yena’s home and overgrown yard, a black abyss stretched on in all directions seemingly endlessly.

Jungkook steeled his nerves, walking up the short, rough stone walkway to the large, wooden front door. There was no door knob, Jungkook suddenly realized, but as he raised his hand to knock, the door flung itself open. Taking it as an open invitation, he let himself in.

The inside smelled fairly pleasant of wood, and for good reason. Betraying the fired brick exterior, the interior of the home seemed that of a log cabin or other wood-inspired architecture. In the entryway, there was a single spiral staircase going up, and corridors leading to who knows where on the left and right. If Jungkook focused his hearing, from the right direction he could hear a female voice humming and mumbling to herself. He decided to follow.

The corridor was plain with wood paneling, but most bizarrely seemed to stretch on for much, much longer than it had first appeared. Jungkook found himself walking first for 1 minute, then 5, and when 10 minutes passed and he still hadn’t reached the room he was walking towards, his anxiety heightened. He stopped, thinking.

“I seek your help, Baba Yena!” He called out. He waited a few seconds, and when nothing changed he thought of a new approach. Baba Yena was also called the Knowing Mother, and to her, information was worth its weight in favors. “A girl of an unknown race lies dying in a hospital bed, and without your gracious help, she will perish an unknown, and her secrets will die with her.” Jungkook waited a few more seconds. He felt a rush suddenly and was nearly knocked off his feet as a large, invisible force picked him up, and shot him forward, dropping him off at the threshold of the room once impossibly far away.

Jungkook entered the room which he quickly assessed to be a kitchen of sorts with black and white floor tiling, scuffed with age, a dark wood table covered in various ingredients, tubes, flasks, and other unrecognizable equipment, a ceiling littered with drying herbs and meats, and a sink next to a counter, on which is something that was clearly freshly butchered. On the side closest to him, there was a forge of sorts, a large stone pit full of red-hot coals, perched over which was a large, black cauldron, the depth of which was at least half of Jungkook’s height. Standing over the cauldron on a step stool was Baba Yena, a diminutive old woman. Hair silver and white was wild and long, her face a map of wrinkles and liver spots, and her hands, gnarled, twisted, and bony. If she noticed Jungkook enter, she didn’t show it and continued stirring whatever concoction bubbled loudly in the kettle.

Jungkook cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, attempting to get Baba Yena’s attention to no avail.

“Baba Yena,” Jungkook began, taking a tentative step forward. “I bring you information in exchange for some of your magic.”

Baba Yena didn’t look up from her work but finally spoke. “The Liar Boy comes to me asking for favors, tell me Liar Boy, how does that pendant serve you?”

“It serves me well, Baba,” Jungkook said holding it in his hand instinctually. “There is a girl, not human, not demon, not fae, not angel. She is dying.”

“I see…” Baba Yena stirs her pot more aggressively now, reaching up, plucking a dried herb from the ceiling, and mixing it in. “You, Liar Boy are the one who almost killed the girl…”

“I was compelled by the Smoke. It is my fault nonetheless, and I have come to beg for your mercy.”

“I have saved you once, Liar Boy. Many who come to my doorstep don’t have even that many chances.”

“The girl is unusual and powerful. She could be of interest to you.”

“You again offer the girl as a sacrifice, and yet nothing of personal sacrifice, how peculiar.” Baba Yena said with a small cackle.

“I have nothing left to give,” Jungkook replied, forlorned.

“I see the girl,” Baba Yena said, staring into her cauldron. “The horned one cares for her well, but she is as ill as you say and- ah! She is mated to you, she holds your final Fragment, I see. No wonder the Liar Boy again finds himself on my doorstep.”

“You understand why I humbly bring myself to your home. Allowing her to die would be a punishment too heavy for someone innocent, she is guilty of only trusting me. I intend to earn her trust in earnest, and I only ask for the opportunity to do so.”

“So it would seem…” Baba Yaga said, half listening. She stares intently at something, the light from the cauldron giving her an even more menacing look. Her eyes dart around as if watching something intently, and Jungkook watches as her face twists into a wolfish smile.

“I ought to sever your bonds and cast your soul to wander the Astral Sea for being such a pain in my side, Liar Boy. I will help this girl, but not without sacrifice from you.”

“Anything,” Jungkook said earnestly.

“Oh, I have something in mind,” Baba Yaga said, climbing down from the step stool and waddling across the kitchen before phasing through a portion of the wall, disappearing from view. Jungkook could still hear the sound of items being shuffled, glass clinking against glass, however. After a minute or so, Baba Yaga returned, a dusty, palm-sized, green potion in hand.

“Drink this and we will be on our way.” She said, handing him the bottle.

Jungkook took it from her, turning it in his hand, examining the liquid inside. It was a sickly lime green color, and he noticed, to the dismay of his stomach, that the texture of the liquid was actually quite viscous and grainy. He wondered if it was a poison, naturally, perhaps one meant to weaken him severely but never kill him outright. He had a mind to ask, but understanding how fickle Baba Yena was, he knew better. He lifted the cork out of place with a solid thunk, closed his eyes, and focused on not vomiting as he poured the potion down his throat. He didn’t fight the wave of magical something that passed through his body, bracing himself for pain or weakness. He opened his eyes and checked his body, felt his face, but somehow, he felt completely fine.

“You’ll know what it does in time, Liar Boy. Now come, let's go save this girl.”

#bts #bangtan #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #ot7 x reader #namjoon x reader #bts x reader angst #bts smut #bts x reader smut #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x fem!reader #bts x oc #ot7 x reader smut #ot7 x you #poly ot7 #foundfatedforever #foundfatedforever part 3

162 notes · View notes

silvertidescribbles · 16 days ago

Text

Sweet Thing

“You made me listen kitten, to those cries, after flirting with me all day.”

Approx. 6.3k words

Pairing: Astarion x OC - See my little post about Alynea here. If you folks are curious to learn more about her, let me know :)

Content tags: MDNI, 18+ NSFW, smut, praise, begging, fingering, (mild) jealousy, depictions of blood/blood drinking.

A/N: Well, here I am posting smut ahah. Not a lot of context is needed, I've written it as much as I can into the fic itself. The vampire man has had a chokehold on me since the game came out, and I was compelled to write up one of my ideas of how he would go about seducing my tav while he's also struggling to keep his emotions separate :P.

Also, I have no idea how censorship works on here! Not entirely sure if this will get flagged in some way but oh well, such is part of learning. If you have the time and patience, feedback is appreciated <3 Is it strange to be nervous about posting smut? I don't know...

I hope this is enjoyable 😊

-Silver

Astarion waited impatiently in his tent, flipping carelessly through the pages of the novel he’d snagged during the day’s expedition. Despite his efforts, he found the tale within lacked the substance he needed to distract himself. Hells, he needed a distraction from what was happening outside his tent. He was positively sick of hearing Gale and Alynea geek out over magic together and he insisted to himself that he couldn’t be the only one.

Gale had made a habit of sitting late into the night at the campfire with the pale woman, a sneaky grin shared between them as they spoke of Waterdeep. Her a sorcerer and him a wizard, the two had bonded far too quickly for Astarion’s tastes, especially once it became known that both had been apprentices at Blackstaff. Even with his efforts to flirt with her, Astarion found himself further from the elf than he wanted to be. Another giggle from Alynea floated from the campfire up into the night sky, making him roll his eyes in irritation. Just how long was she going to make him wait? After all, she had promised to come to him after the others had gone to their bedrolls to let him feed.

Peeking out from his tent, Astarion was witness to how Alynea snickered at Gale’s words as she swallowed another mouthful of wine. The firelight cast a warm glow over her features and melded with the cooler palette of her skin and hair while her silvery eyes glittered. Albinism, she had said when asked. It explained the lack of colour in her, why her eyes twitched painfully under the bright sun and why her hair shone as white as bone, her pale skin only barely flushed with any warmth. As his eyes passed over the bruises on her neck, the memory of the first night she aided him rose to the surface.

“I’d hate to lose such a useful person over a little blood,” she had said so sweetly the night he’d tried to drink from her. “If that’s all you need, I’ll help.” He was honestly surprised she hadn’t staked him right there, and even more taken aback that she was willing to leave herself at his mercy. Alynea had struggled against him that night, body shaking as her blood was siphoned away. She hadn’t said anything in the moment, but there was something indescribable about the sudden head rush Astarion had experienced. It was invigorating and electrifying, sharpening his vision as a tingle arced down his spine. He would later confirm the wave of energy that washed over him when drinking from her wasn’t normal; the goblins he’d torn open a few days later did nothing to soothe the vampiric hunger the way her lifeblood did. Perhaps it was due to the magic she claimed burned inside her, though he couldn’t be sure. It was hard to believe at times she was such a fearsome spellcaster with her small presence and diminutive form, but the fireball she’d launched past his head earlier in the day begged to differ. Even though she was the shortest and physically smallest of the ragtag group, the rest of the party had quickly learned to not be the cause of her split hairs, lest they be the target of her next spell.

He was no longer reading the words in his book, fingers paused in the middle of turning the page as he realized he was reminiscing like a schoolboy. How embarrassing, he thought to himself. Sure, Alynea was another pretty face, but he couldn’t fathom why she lingered in his mind the way she did. The woman was a patriar’s daughter for hells sake—by all accounts she should be someone he held contempt for. Should was the operative word however, he was failing to find anything to find truly repulsive about the little elf. Perhaps the tadpole had scrambled his brain more than he’d like to admit. Before he could muse any longer on the thought, there was a noise that drew him back to the present.

“Astarion? Gale’s gone now. I’m… I’m here, if you would like.” Her warbly voice was soft outside his tent as she stood by, picking at the strap of the oversized top she’d chosen as a nightgown. Although intended for a man much larger than her the shirt made for an acceptable nightdress, if a little short. The sound of a book snapping shut alerted her to the vampire shuffling around inside the tent before the main flap was pulled back, a hand inviting her in. Crouching as she stepped within the boundaries of his tent, her pupils dilated as her vision adjusted. Being elves, the lack of light was no issue for them, Astarion could see her perfectly well in the dark, and he knew she could see him as well.

“Oh my... you’re in a distracting outfit tonight darling,” the vampire drawled. Alynea’s cheeks flushed pink at that as her fingers tweaked a strand of hair between them. “I can change if—” He waved a hand, cutting her off. “Oh I doubt that’ll be necessary. After all, I will be needing access to that pretty little neck of yours.”

She swallowed thickly at that, nostrils flaring slightly as his grin made her shiver. As she squirmed under his gaze a strange sense of irritation rose in his chest at the sight of her. The garment she wore hung loosely off her shoulders and low on her chest which left little to the imagination, the hemline only just reaching the top of her knee. It was a dress that, if one could even call it such, practically screamed sex appeal. Knowing she had been sitting shoulder to shoulder with Gale directly prior to this, jealousy stirred in him for a moment before he regained control. That bumbling wizard wouldn’t know what to do with Alynea even if she were to lie nude and expecting in front of him.

That mental image sparked a new sense of discontent in Astarion. He could hardly believe he was competing with Gale for her affections, dismayed at the thought of her possibly seeing them in the same league. In fact, he could hardly believe he was competing with any of them. Wyll was but a bright-eyed child, still wet around the ears. The warlock’s eyes shined with adoration for the woman, but it was clear he was unable to think beyond that. Shadowheart was just as bad, with the way she had roped the sorcerer into listening to her Sharran drivel. Astarion scowled at that, wanting to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Alynea cleared her throat, bringing him back to the present. “Are you alright Astarion?” There was an unknowable emotion in her eyes that made him shy away from her gaze, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Apologies,” he muttered. “I was distracted by a thought is all.” The excuse did little to sway her; she just stared back at him with those large silver eyes. Astarion tilted his head, seeing the way she looked down at the strand of hair she fiddled with. She was well within her rights to still be uncomfortable about the arrangement they’d made, though something whispered to him that it wasn’t fear of him that made her shy. Ever since the first incident, she’d insisted on giving her some of her blood when the group failed to find enough fights for him to feed from. Despite how palpable her nervousness was, she would take a deep breath and shake her head when he offered her an out, even as the anxiety rolled off her in waves.

Astarion shifted, adjusting his position to sit at one end of the tent with his legs spread. Given she was much smaller, he grabbed a pillow he’d swiped from the grove and placed it between his thighs. Frankly, she needed it, so he could reach her neck without craning his own horrendously. Alynea was fragile against him when his fangs were in her throat, and he didn’t want to risk hurting her more than he had to. Her willingness to let him feed from her was a gift and he would not squander it, he thought to himself. No, as much as he wanted to indulge, to feel her warmth fade as he drained every last drop from her body, he knew he couldn’t. Her generosity was one of the kindest things anyone had ever willingly done for him and he refused to ruin it.

He outstretched a hand to her to guide her as she sat down on the pillow, twisting around to press her back against him. The warmth of her skin was pleasant against his cool chest, something he always relished when she let herself nestle against his body. He paused at the way her muscles tensed when his fingers brushed along her ears, sweeping back her ivory locks to reveal her neck. The tiniest drop of guilt bubbled up in him upon seeing the lingering bruises from the last time, but it quickly faded away. He had plans to make it up to her tonight.

“Now, kitten,” he cooed into her ear, his lips only a breath away. “You let me know when you’re ready, darling.” Although she was insistent on letting him receive blood from her, Astarion had found she would flinch when he gave no warning before ravaging her neck. They had tried other veins, including her wrists or arms, but nothing had been as efficient as her throat for drawing enough. Despite how his gut would wrench with hunger at her scent, he found she handled the situation best when she was in control. How innocent, he had thought. But still he restrained himself; he could control his desires and he would.

At first, she had been telling him verbally when she was ready, but much to his surprise the last two times she had simply squeezed his knee to let him know she was prepared. Although she hadn’t been the quickest to warm up to him when they first met, it was the little things that told Astarion he was making progress with her. For all her sweet demeanor, she was a powerful sorcerer he wanted on his side. He’d slowly been gaining her trust and affection, and these intimate nights where she let him drink only accelerated the relationship. This time he was preparing to step things up, the scent of her blood filling him with a carnal desire to bend her over and break her.

“Sweet thing, you smell delicious tonight,” he whispered into her ear. She was wearing perfume tonight, same as the last few times. The aromas of mugwort and balsam floated up from her skin and filled his head as he remembered her picking the herbs earlier in the day. It was a sweet gesture, though it didn’t do much to distract him from his prize. Nevertheless, he was flattered by the effort. Sharp fangs slid out just a fraction from his gums, the pointed ends brushing along the cartilage of her upper ear. Alynea shuddered at the touch, squeaking out the tiniest yelp as one of his hands began rubbing along her arm. It was his attempt to relax her, to ply her to his want and to let herself go limp in his arms.

“Astarion, before you—” She paused, her breath hitching as his other hand innocently rested on one of her knees, thumbpad rubbing circles into her skin. “Yes, dear? What could possibly be the matter?” The low timbre of the vampire’s voice sent shivers down her body and she let out a short breath, unaware she had even been holding it.

“N-Nothing’s the matter,” Alyena stammered. Oh, how sweet that little stutter made her sound to him. She only ever stuttered like that when she was flustered, overwhelmed with her emotions. Those feelings always quieted down when he sank into her though, her shaky voice silencing to a soft “oh…” each time. He could hardly wait to feel her grip at his thigh, to signal to him that he could take her. “But I wanted to ask…” the man paused, lifting his head back slightly from her. She twisted around to look up at him and despite his best efforts, something twinged in the base of his stomach. A primal, growling desire rumbled in him, but he bit his tongue as those impossibly round doe eyes stared up at him.

“Um… Could you possibly take off your shirt before you do it?” A flush crept across her cheeks, a rare instance of her skin becoming rosy. “I… I like the way it feels, when you press your chest against my back, and…” Astarion cracked a devilish grin as she mumbled out her request, tripping and stumbling over her words. Something about it feeling safe when she was held in an embrace, how skin to skin contact felt, and so on. She blushed, biting a nail as she looked up. Liar, he snarked in his head. He knew she was attracted to him, despite her avoidance of the question when he had asked. She wanted a good piece of eye candy, that’s why she was asking.

“As you wish, so it shall be granted, darling,” he replied graciously to her. In a moment, his blouse was untied and slipped over his white curls, tossed aside to a forgotten corner of his tent. She paused to stare for a moment, biting her lip as her eyes took in his shape in the dark before sitting back against him. Alynea felt both panic and excitement rise in her throat as he settled back in, cool skin pressing against hers. She knew he could feel her heartbeat, smell the rush of her blood, though it wasn’t something she could control exactly. Truth be told, she had been working up the nerve to ask him to do this. She wanted the chance to see him up close without his shirt, and now she had her desire.

Although she had tried her best to keep the instances of blood drinking transactional, it had become more and more impossible. Gods, he stared at her in such a smoldering way. The way his eyes gazed into hers, how he cradled her body in his arms as he fed, all made her feel weak in the knees. The last two times after she had left his tent she had laid in her own bedroll, desperately chasing release with her own means. The loss of blood put a pleasant haze over everything, and she found herself soaked with need and desire as she fantasized about the tall, handsome man who practically eyefucked her every chance he could. She wasn’t stupid; she could tell Astarion was undressing her in his mind every time he saw her. She could only hope her eyes didn’t give it away as much as his did.

Astarion’s thumb was rubbing circles again. This time though, she tensed, feeling his hand far higher up than it had been previously. Where his palm normally rested on her knee, his hand had slid down to lay on her inner thigh. The hem of her nightshirt was pushed up, and she blushed seeing her own skin.

“Hm… you naughty girl, you’re not even wearing any underwear,” he purred. His voice made her blink and focus, becoming more alert to the position she was in. It made her blush further, realizing how she was fully lying back against the elf, heart thudding in her chest as his other hand moved lower, finding a spot at her waist. His touch made her voice catch in her throat, a particularly sweet sound coming out only barely above a whisper as he pulled her against him. “I…” she mumbled something, trying to think of a response, but finding none. Was he going to realize? Would he know she’d been planning this night in her mind all day?

“Shh, shh,” he hushed, his fingers dragging their nails over the milky skin of her inner thigh. Her leg twitched at this as his fingers moved closer to her groin, dangerously close. “Do you think I was oblivious to your antics the last two times?” His voice was a low growl now, a dangerous edge to it that she seldom heard, yet caused her belly to twinge all the same in response. “Coming in here, all perfumed, barely dressed,” he muttered into her ear. “Sitting here, all soft and sweet while you bled for me” he continued. “To then go back to your bedroll and whine the way you do,” he added, Alynea shivering at his voice. “Fucking yourself on your fingers while you moaned my name,” he hissed, mouth hovering over her neck, just behind her ear.

Alynea closed her eyes, her face flushed as she felt her stomach tie into a knot. She should’ve known, she realized. Of course a vampire, an elven one no less, would have been able to hear her whines, no matter how muffled. “Astarion,” she whimpered, her hand squeezing at his thigh. A silent yes, her way of giving him permission.

“The last two times,” he breathed out hoarsely, his tongue dragging along her neck and paying particular attention to the two bruises he’d left. She quivered under his touch, a hand coming up to cover her mouth as she tried not to squeak. “You made me listen while you made your desires known.�� Alynea could hardly breathe, with how tight the tension in her body was coiled. She was melting under every single touch of his now. “You made me listen, kitten, to those cries, after flirting with me all day.” She nearly palmed his head away when his fangs scraped along her ear, making her strain and push against him, rocking her body back. Astarion grinned, his arm coming around to encircle her waist. He had her at his mercy now, unable to pull away as his other hand pushed up the hem of her nightgown even further, exposing her.

“All while acting so innocent to me the next morning,” he growled. She gasped when his fangs pierced her, louder than she ever had before. Her body shuddered against his as she let out a low breathy moan, one that seemed to egg him on as his arm pulled her against him even harder. A sharp pain, now a familiar embrace, dulled her senses and made her weak as she became more pliable in his arms. As she lay there, she realized something; he was drinking slowly, much slower in fact than usual. Blinking, she opened her mouth to say something but only managed to let out a quiet strangled noise

Astarion’s cool fingers had found her. She was already wet, and he found only the slightest bit resistance as he slid his first finger in before her body caved, freely letting him push into her. His thumbpad now circled her clit and she let out the most pathetic little sob of pleasure as he continued to slowly, agonizingly slowly, drink down her blood.

Alynea let out the softest, sweetest little moan, her hips jerking in response. She wasn’t thinking, just moving in reaction to him. Still, he held her firmly, slowly suckling out more of her blood as he dug his fingers into her. Hells, he thought to himself, she smelled and tasted incredible. The arousal he had smelled on her had already tipped him off to her state of mind when she had entered his tent, but now it was a full crescendo. Her little whimpers and moans as she attempted to be quiet, to not wake the whole camp, were like a symphony to his ears. It was a delight to hear it firsthand and by his hand, rather than how muffled it was when she was in her own bedroll, crying into her pillows to reduce the noise.

“Oh, Astarion...” He stiffened at her voice; the way his name fell from her mouth was sinful. He hummed as he slowly siphoned more blood, increasing the flow into his mouth and making her cry out as he slid another finger into her. His other hand reached up, tugging down her nightshirt from her shoulders and freeing her torso from the garment. Her lungs heaved as his fingers worked away at her flesh, pinching and groping and massaging the soft skin. Her whole body jolted at the touch, hips grinding up against his palm. With a loud groan of contentment, Astarion released his fangs from her throat, continuing to suck and lick at the two new puncture marks he’d left behind. He would take more later, but for now his focus was on seducing the sweet treat in his lap.

“Fuck, oh gods…” she whispered as Astarion looked down, smirking at what he saw. “Just me,” he crooned softly. He could see the ghost of a smile at his quip on her lips, but it vanished quickly as she melted into his embrace. Pleased with his work, he committed the image to memory. Alynea curled in his arms with her eyes closed, brows furrowed as she squirmed, her chest bared and blushed pink in various locations where he’d pinched and prodded. She was such a pretty thing, pushing her hips against his fingers. “You’ve been waiting for this,” he murmured against her skin. “Isn’t that right? You’ve been wanting to fuck yourself all over my fingers for a while now, you little minx.” Soft, shaky breaths escaped her as she shifted in his embrace while he dug further into her, searching for the soft little pad of tissue that he knew would undo her. He chuckled, nipping at her with his fangs. “Answer me, kitten.”

“A—yes, yes I—” she winced when she bit her tongue fumbling for words as he slid in a third finger. She felt his chest tighten as he sucked in a breath, tasting blood in her mouth. Their gazes locked, her wide eyes looking up at him as his free hand moved to come up to her chin. Firmly, but still gentle, he gripped her jaw as he pushed her to look at him.

Astarion couldn’t help but grin at the sight of her. The smell of her blood leaking from a nipped tongue, mingling with her hot breath made his own belly twinge. Her pupils were blown out, a sight he recognized well as lust. She whined when he withdrew his fingers from her, but he tutted at her softly as he brought them up to his own mouth. “You are perfect kitten,” he groaned softly, reveling in the taste. The smaller elf shivered as his hand left a smear on her thigh as he adjusted her in his arms. He shifted her head to his other shoulder, adjusting his own body to better support her frame as she leaned into him, his thumb pressed against her bottom lip. This night was about her, not him, but she was irresistible to him all the same. The primal, carnal urge within him growled, yearning to take her, though he forced it back down. Not yet, he hissed at it. Not tonight. He wouldn’t destroy this. He wouldn’t.

When he kissed her, he could feel her heartbeat skyrocket. His other hand fell, resuming his motions as she moaned into his mouth. His tongue chased hers, the linger taste of her mixing with her blood, a soft groan escaping him as she whimpered. A sweet thing indeed, he thought to himself. He stayed there, kissing her and lapping at the swollen spot on her tongue that bled just the tiniest bit, enticing him to go further as he kept up the rhythm, fingers reaching as far as he could into her.

Alynea was speechless, her mind racing. Gods, she had been dreaming about this exact scenario for over two weeks now. His fingers felt heavenly as they moved rhythmically against her, every stroke sending another jolt of pleasure through her bones. She could feel her heart in her throat as he kissed her, a strong hand on her jaw keeping her there as his tongue delved into her mouth.

It was all beginning to be too much. Still, she did nothing to stop him as he carried on, feeling herself react more and more sharply the longer he continued. In the back of her mind she could hear herself moaning louder, the sounds harder to control as the pleasure became more intense. Despite the spells inside her that roiled and bubbled up, she kept it down as he slid his fourth finger in, the noises becoming more obscene as her eyes rolled back slightly, waves of heat continuing to build in the bottom of her belly. She had trained her magic well enough to not be worried about a mephit blinking into existence or thornbushes coming up to entangle them, but nonetheless she fought off the tingling feeling in her chest as the tension in her body continued to grow.

“Astarion,” she whimpered against his mouth, catching his attention. His fingers paused for a moment and she whined, rocking her hips slightly as if desperately telling him not to stop. “Astarion, I want you to bite me,” she pleaded, “again, on the neck.” She could feel him smirk against her lips as his fingers started up again, this time more feverish than before. “Oh, you sweet thing,” he whispered, hand still on her jaw. He tilted her head down against his shoulder and she groaned as she felt her orgasm starting to build. She could faintly hear him laugh softly as she began grinding her hips into his hand, biting on her tongue in concentration, legs shaking as she did so. With her head resting in the crook of his neck, she began to moan again, unable to contain her voice as she reached for her release. Alynea had wanted this for so long, her body was on fire with anticipation. She felt his hand leave her jaw, returning to massage her chest and she stifled her cries into his neck. His cool skin provided brief momentary relief as the pressure in her body came to a rumbling boil, but the rush of heat returned just as quickly and fiercer than before.

She didn’t know why he hadn’t returned his fangs to her neck and now she desperately wanted them. A part of her was laughing at the contradiction; his fangs sinking into her often hurt, yet here and now as she was a shuddering mess she wanted nothing more than that sharp, bright pain. Shivers rippled through her body at the thought, muscles straining against his four fingers he kept fucking her with. Fuck, she realized. Did he want her to beg? To plead for him to ruin her further?

Well, if that’s what he wanted, she had no qualms about doing so.

Astarion was a little surprised when Alynea’s hand palmed at his forearm. He didn’t really expect her to be able to think coherently in the moment, given how uninhibited she was making such sweet noises for him. There was something pathetically desperate about the way she weakly pawed at him, unable to put any real strength into her grip. Her head shifted, shaking slightly as her lips moved close to his ear. Sucking in a sharp breath as her lips grazed his neck while her nails dug gently into his skin, he bit back a groan as her tongue rolled over his skin. “You little minx,” he growled quietly, the low register of his voice sending a chill through her.

“Astarion, please,” she mewled. “Please… I need your fangs in me, I’m- I’m so close…” He stiffened a little at that, his own erection that was hidden by the pillow she sat on twitching at her pleas. He hummed, craning his neck down to the exposed skin. “My, my, who would’ve thought our fearless sorceress would be brought to her knees like this,” he crowed. “Moaning and crying like this, begging for me.” In the back of his mind Astarion was gleeful. He knew she was being too loud at this point; Wyll in his tent could probably hear her halfway across the campsite. He knew that the wizard nearby could definitely hear her cries. Perhaps this would finally send the others the message he'd been trying to tell them: She’s mine. She was his to hold close, to nip on the neck and to pleasure.

“Please… I’ve been… been so good, for you,” she whined into his ear, each breathy gasp making him bite the inside of his cheek harder. “I’ve let you take so much… so much blood,” she whimpered. The salt of her sweat left a tang in his throat, lips pressed against her neck as she continued to moan. He could tell she was getting close, with the way she was grinding herself onto his fingers, her heartbeat pulsing through her whole body.

“Oh, fuck, don’t make me keep begging,” she whispered. There was a frantic tone in her voice as she shuddered, continuing to grind against him. “Please, oh gods, I’m so close, I want your fangs in me when I—Astarion, please,” she wailed, completely lost to the hope of staying silent. Was that a tear he spotted in the corner of her eye? He could almost laugh in disbelief, though he would not betray her feelings in that way, at least not in the moment. Planting a soft kiss to her jawline, his fingers tangled themselves into her silver hair. With the slightest bit of force, Astarion pulled her head fast against his shoulder to expose her neck as best as possible. Alynea was shaking with need, sweat glistening down her body as he heard her voice become strained.

She was such a pretty little thing. And she was such an exquisite treasure when she was laid out like this, wanton moans muffled against his body as her nails dug into his arms, her hips moving back and forth against his fingers that continued to push deep inside her. “Sweet thing, don’t cry,” he purred. He could see her chest fall a little at the reassurance, as if some relief had come from his words alone. The sound of her blood rushing echoed in his ears, heartbeat thudding wildly throughout her body as her breathing became even more labored. She was right at the edge now, he figured. They had been at this for over ten minutes and the slow build up was clearly agonizing for her, to be this close.

His fingers slowed for a moment, withdrawing most of the way out of her, his thumb pressing harder against her clit as she cried against him in protest. She was so close, teetering on the edge of her release, but he shushed her to soothe her begging as he planted one more gentle kiss on her neck. “You’re right, darling,” he whispered. “You’ve been a wonderful girl, such a good treat for me,” he muttered against her skin.

“Oh, fuck!” Alynea cried out against his neck as the white-hot pain lanced through her own, feeling his fingers thrust back into her with full force. Eyes squeezed shut, she couldn’t see the wild and unfocused look in his eyes as he began to drink. The familiar hazy sensation from blood loss washed over her with force as he drank deeply, swallowing down mouthfuls of her blood as he fucked her onto his hand.

It was all simply too much. The pressure in the bottom of her belly swelled to a feverish pitch, before it all exploded. She could faintly hear him grunt as her muscles clenched, her whole body seizing up as relief washed over her, ripping through and out her body forcefully. Her hips bucked hard against his hand, thighs shaking as they tried to press together. His fingers had slowed, but continued to gently fuck her through the high as she felt his fangs begin to retract, her hips beginning to calm down.

After a moment, his fangs finished retracting and Alynea’s gasps settled down to soft mumbles as he lapped at her neck, helping to close over the new marks left by his feeding. There was a groan from her throat as his fingers lazily withdrew from her, her body aching at the sudden loss. She heard him suck in a breath, seeing how the cushion she sat on was freshly wet as a creeping embarrassment grew in her chest.

He grinned at her, not a glint of shame in his eyes as he lifted his hand, dragging his tongue from his wrist to the top of his palm as she watched with a heavy blush. Then, he reached for his pack off to the side and tugged out a cloth. That was enough to erase any lingering worry she felt as her breathing even out. After a moment, she shivered as he wiped her down as well before he placed the rag off to the side to be forgotten. Astarion sat quietly, seemingly unsure of what to do next with the quivering mess in his lap. After a moment she shifted, twisting herself around and surprising him as her arms wrapped around his torso. “Did you enjoy that?” She whispered, head resting still on his shoulder.

Something lanced through him with those words. She asked so innocently, so sweetly, as if he hadn’t just made her lose her mind on his fingers. There was a tinge of authenticity to her tone, something that told him she wanted to know truly if he had enjoyed it. “Darling,” he purred. “You were marvelous.” That wasn’t a lie, he mused to himself. He had enjoyed it, watching her unravel because of his actions made something in him swell with satisfaction. Pride, even.

“The next time you’re so desperate as to keep me up all night listening to you,” he spoke softly, more gently. “Don’t torture yourself. Not when I can help.” She seemed to relax at his words, her eyes unfocused and hazy as her heartbeat began to slow. Exhaustion was calling to her, even as Astarion pulled away to grab another pillow. “You should head to your bedroll, sweet kitten,” he whispered. To his surprise though, she reached out weakly, fingers tangling with his own. “I don’t particularly… care what the others have to say,” she murmured. She was falling into her trance now, voice heavy with exhaustion. “So… let me stay with you tonight here. …Please?”

Again, something in the way she spoke shot right through him. The intimacy of her fingers entwined with his made a strange sensation flood over his face. Although her eyes had closed, he said nothing, only nodding. Pulling a blanket over her shoulder and covering her half naked form, he laid her down on his bedroll. He had never done this part of sex, he thought to himself. Though she didn’t seem to be asking for much. Perhaps she just wanted to stay where a bedroll had already been warmed, instead of making the trudge back to her own tent.

In the morning, Alynea would be slow to wake. When she did, she reached for the amulet Astarion had swiped in the grove, her skin shimmering as the lesser restoration spell shook the sleep from her eyes. To her back was the pale elf, still shirtless from the night before, though he had made distance between them overnight. She blushed when she sniffed the air, heavy with the smell of sex, the smell of her. Yawning, she adjusted her nightgown as Astarion began to shift, waking from his own trance.

Red eyes met silver, blinking silently. Sheepishly, she smiled at him. “Good morning." A slight smile ghosted across his face before vanishing as he sat up, reaching for his blouse. “Sleep well, darling?” He asked. She nodded, reaching up to trace at the nicks left on her neck. She flinched a little when pressing on one of them; the tissue was sore. She looked over to him, whose gaze had also settled on it. Astarion smirked at her, looking down as he laced up his blouse. “My apologies, darling. It seems the bruising is quite... intense this time.”

When she finally left his tent, she cringed internally as she briefly met Wyll’s gaze across from her tent as she slipped inside, hastily changing out of her disheveled nightshirt. She knew the boy had harbored a crush on her since his childhood, and some part of her felt bad knowing he probably heard her cries last night. Likewise, Gale hadn’t come out of his tent yet either. She felt her face flush at the thought of her friend lying in his bedroll, forced to listen as she had wailed so openly for Astarion, moaning his name, begging him to undo her.

Later, the women who had their tents on the other side of the campsite would ask why the men were so quiet. Gale, ever the gentleman, had the grace to brush it off as being exhausted from a bad sleep while Wyll said nothing, staring down intently at his food. Astarion however, had rolled his eyes, scoffing something about humans and their need for sleep. Karlach guffawed at that, pointing out that it was no secret that Alynea had slipped out of his tent this morning and not her own, her neck covered in bruises. True to her word, when Astarion glanced over at the elf, she was chewing on a strip of bacon as she peered over a spell scroll totally unbothered. When she looked up to see the party’s eyes on her, she blinked, swallowing before saying the simplest, sweetest thing he had heard from her yet.

“Yeah, I did. He was good.”

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x oc #mdni #astarion #astarion ancunin #cw blood #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #fanfiction #astarion romance #sts alynea #sts fics #sts writing

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estellan0vella · 7 months ago

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The Outlaw and his Radical Woman - Toji Fushiguro AU Word Count: 5.5K Content Warnings: sexism, guns, violence, death Masterlist for Eras AU

The sun beats down on the small town as you stand on the makeshift stage, a wooden platform set up in the middle of the town square. The crowd is larger than you anticipated, a mix of curious onlookers, supportive women, and a significant number of sceptical, hardened men. The tension is palpable, but you've grown accustomed to it. After all, the fight for women's rights has never been easy, especially here in the wild, untamed West.

Your voice carries across the square, strong and unwavering despite the heat and the murmurs of discontent from some of the men. "We seek nothing but what is justly ours," you declare, holding your head high. "The right to vote, to own property, to be heard and respected as equal citizens!"

Toji Fushiguro stands off to the side, leaning against a post with his arms crossed over his broad chest. His dark eyes are watchful, scanning the crowd for any signs of trouble. Toji is an outlaw, a man with a dangerous reputation, but he's also your fiercest protector and staunchest supporter. Your lover is a walking paradox you find both intriguing and comforting.

His presence is a silent warning to anyone who might think of causing trouble. He doesn't need to brandish his guns or make threats; his mere existence is enough to keep most men in line. You can feel his eyes on you, a steady source of strength that keeps you going even when the glares and muttered insults of your detractors threaten to shake your resolve.

A murmur ripples through the crowd as a particularly burly man steps forward, his face twisted into a scowl. "Women ain't got no place in politics!" he bellows, earning a few grunts of agreement from his comrades. "Go back to your kitchens and leave the real work to the men!"

You pause, letting his words hang in the air for a moment. Taking a deep breath, you step forward, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Is it the kitchen you fear, sir, or the idea of a woman who might challenge your authority?"

The crowd goes silent, and you can feel the tension ratchet up another notch. The man's face turns an angry shade of red, and he takes a step closer to the stage, his fists clenching at his sides. Before he can make another move, Toji is there, stepping into his path with a lazy, almost casual grace.

"I reckon the lady's got a point," Toji drawls, his voice low and dangerous. "Now, unless you want to see just how serious I am about keeping her safe, I'd suggest you back off. Unless you don't value the use of your limbs"

The man hesitates, clearly weighing his options. Toji's reputation precedes him, and the gleam in his eyes suggests he's more than willing to back up his words with action. After a tense moment, the man grumbles something under his breath and steps back, melting into the crowd.

You flash Toji a grateful smile, and he gives you a barely perceptible nod and a wink before resuming his position. The interruption serves as a reminder of the stakes involved, but it also strengthens your resolve. Turning back to the crowd, you raise your voice once more, speaking with renewed passion and conviction.

"We will not be silenced or intimidated!" you declare, your voice ringing out like a bell. "Our fight is just, and our cause is righteous. Together, we will forge a future where our daughters and granddaughters can stand tall and proud, free from the chains of oppression!"

The crowd erupts into a mix of cheers and jeers, the women's voices rising in support while the men grumble and curse under their breath. You step down from the stage, your heart pounding with adrenaline and a sense of accomplishment. As you make your way through the throng, Toji falls into step beside you, his hand brushing lightly against yours.

"You handled yourself well up there," he murmurs.

"Couldn't have done it without you," you reply, glancing up at him with a smile. "Thank you, Toji."

He shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Just doing my part. Besides, I'd hate to see what these small backwater towns would be like without your fiery speeches to stir things up."

You laugh, the tension of the day beginning to melt away. "Well, there's plenty more stirring to be done. This fight is far from over."

"I know," he says, his expression turning serious. "And I'll be right here with you, every step of the way."

You reach the edge of the crowd and slip into the relative quiet of a side street. The sounds of the town fade slightly, replaced by the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant call of a bird. Toji stops, turning to face you, his gaze intense and unwavering.

"You know this isn't easy for me," he says, his voice low and earnest. "Being an outlaw, staying in one place for longer than a few days, it goes against everything I've known. But for you, I'd do it a thousand times over. To see you fighting for yourself and future generations. It's all worth it"

Your heart swells with emotion, and you step closer, taking his hands in yours. "And I wouldn't want anyone else by my side, Toji. You're more than just an outlaw to me. You're my partner, my confidant, my love."

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "And you're my everything," he murmurs against your skin. "Let's show these little towns, and the world, what we're made of."

The days that follow are a blur of rallies, meetings, and strategy sessions. Toji remains a constant presence, his silent strength a reassuring anchor as you navigate the challenges of your crusade. You speak to crowds both large and small, in towns and settlements scattered across the Wild West, always with Toji nearby, his watchful eyes keeping you safe.

The sun is beginning to dip towards the horizon, casting long shadows across the dusty town square as you stand once more on the makeshift stage. The crowd today is even larger, and there's an air of anticipation mixed with the ever-present tension. Your voice rings out strong and clear, echoing your earlier words and stirring the hearts of those who support you.

"Equality is not just a dream; it is a necessity!" you proclaim, your passion igniting the crowd. "We demand the right to vote, the right to own property, the right to be heard and respected as equals!"

The cheers from the supportive women and a few enlightened men are louder today, but the murmur of dissent from the sceptics remains. You glance at Toji, who stands off to the side, his dark eyes scanning the crowd with a sharp, vigilant gaze.

As you continue speaking, a sudden movement catches Toji's eye. A man in the back of the crowd, his face twisted in anger, is raising a gun. The intent is clear, and the sight sends a shockwave of fear through you. But before you can react, Toji is already in motion.

In one fluid, lightning-fast move, Toji draws his revolver and fires. The crack of the gunshot echoes across the square, and the would-be assassin drops to the ground, clutching his shoulder and screaming in pain. The crowd erupts into chaos, some people fleeing while others stand frozen in shock.

Toji is at your side in an instant, his hand gripping yours tightly. "We need to go. Now," he says urgently, his eyes scanning the crowd for any other threats.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest as Toji leads you off the stage and through the panicked throng. The sheriff, a burly man with a no-nonsense attitude, is already pushing his way through the crowd, shouting for order. He spots Toji and you, his eyes narrowing in recognition.

"Stop them!" the sheriff yells, but Toji is already moving, his grip on your hand firm and unyielding. "It's the outlaw and his radical woman!"

Toji's reputation is enough to part the crowd in places, fear and respect clearing a path. His eyes are sharp, constantly scanning for an escape route. As you reach the edge of the square, he leads you down a narrow alleyway, the sounds of pursuit echoing off the walls.

"Come on," Toji urges, his voice low and urgent. "We need to get to the horse."

You nod, breathless but determined, and follow him through the winding backstreets. Finally, you reach the stables where Toji's horse, a powerful black stallion, is tethered. He quickly unties the reins and helps you mount, then swings up in front of you.

"Hold on tight," he murmurs, his voice calm and steady despite the urgency of the situation.

You wrap your arms around his waist, and with a sharp command, Toji spurs the horse into a gallop. The stallion bursts out of the stables and onto the main road, hooves thundering against the ground. The sheriff and his deputies are in hot pursuit, but Toji's horse is fast, and soon the town begins to fall away behind you.

As you ride, the wind whips through your hair, and the adrenaline of the escape courses through your veins. The landscape blurs as you speed away from the town, the horizon painted with the warm colours of the setting sun.

After what feels like an eternity, Toji slows the horse to a trot, then finally to a stop. You find yourselves in a secluded glade, surrounded by trees that offer a sense of shelter and safety. Toji dismounts first, then helps you down, his hands lingering on your waist as he steadies you.

Toji looks you over, concern etched into his features. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice rough with worry.

You nod, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. "Yes, I'm fine. Thanks to you."

His expression softens, and he pulls you into a tight embrace. "I told you I'd keep you safe," he murmurs into your hair.

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with a grateful smile. "And you did. I don't know what I would have done without you."

Toji reaches into his coat and pulls out a small flask, offering it to you. "A little something to take the edge off," he says with a grin.

You take a sip, the burn of the whiskey warming you from the inside out. "Thank you," you say, handing the flask back to him. "For everything."

He takes a swig and then sets the flask aside, turning to face you. "You know, when I first met you, the troublemaking suffragette preaching to a crowd in a backwater town, I never thought I'd end up here," he admits, his voice soft and reflective. "But now, I can't imagine being anywhere else."

You smile, leaning into him. "I know the feeling. You've given me strength I never knew I had, Toji. Together, we're unstoppable."

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "Damn right we are," he says with a chuckle. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

You sit in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the night enveloping you in a cocoon of peace. As the stars twinkle overhead, you feel a sense of hope and determination settling deep within you. The road ahead is long and fraught with challenges, but with Toji by your side, you're ready to face whatever comes your way.

"Tomorrow's a new day," you say softly, resting your head against his shoulder. "A new chance to make a difference."

He nods, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm. "And we'll face it together, just like we always do."

"Did you hear what the Sheriff called us?" you ask teasingly, grinning up at your lover. "The Outlaw and his Radical Woman."

Toji chuckles, the sound deep and warm in the quiet of the night. "Quite the title, isn't it? Has a certain ring to it. You're an outlaw now, darlin'. Just like me."

You laugh, the sound echoing in the serene glade. "I suppose it does. The Outlaw and his Radical Woman – it sounds like a story for the ages."

Toji's eyes sparkle with amusement, but there's a seriousness beneath the surface. "It's not just a title, you know. Being with me means danger, always looking over your shoulder."

"And being an opinionated woman who travelled alone didn't mean any of that?" you ask, nudging him playfully.

Toji's expression softens, a mix of admiration and concern evident in his eyes. "You're right," he admits. "You've been facing danger long before I came into your life. But now it's doubled, and I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into."

You smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "I know, Toji. And I'm not backing down. We'll face whatever comes our way together."

The next few weeks become a blur of movement and danger, a relentless pursuit by bounty hunters dogging your every step. Each new town brings a fresh wave of threats, and you and Toji find yourselves constantly on the run, barely staying one step ahead of your pursuers.

One afternoon, with the sun casting long shadows through the dense forest, you and Toji find yourselves amidst towering trees, their canopy providing some cover. The sound of approaching horses tells you that the bounty hunters are close. Toji motions for you to follow him, and you both move swiftly and silently through the underbrush, hearts pounding in your chests.

"We can't keep running like this," you whisper urgently, the weight of exhaustion and fear heavy in your voice.

Toji nods, his eyes darting around, searching for a place to hide. "I know. We need to find somewhere to lie low for a while."

Just as the sound of the horses grows almost unbearable, Toji spots a small cave partially hidden by a thicket. He gestures for you to follow, and you both slip inside, the darkness enveloping you as you hold your breaths, listening intently to the approaching danger.

"I swear I saw them head this way," one of the bounty hunters' voices echoes through the forest.

"Keep looking. They can't have gone far," another replies, the urgency in his tone sending shivers down your spine.

You and Toji remain perfectly still, the silence of the cave pressing in around you, until the voices finally fade into the distance. Only then do you allow yourselves to relax slightly, the tension in your bodies easing.

"We need a new plan," Toji whispers, his voice barely audible in the dim light filtering through the cave entrance. "We can't keep running and hiding forever."

You nod in agreement, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling over you like a heavy blanket. "Maybe we can find allies in the next town. People who believe in our cause and can help us fight back."

Toji's expression brightens slightly, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "That's a good idea. But we have to be careful. We can't trust just anyone."

After a few hours, when the forest is cloaked in silence and the bounty hunters seem to have moved on, you and Toji emerge from the cave, the cool air of dusk washing over you. You share a look before continuing your journey under the veil of the night.

The next town you come across is small but bustling with activity, a lively contrast to the tense days of running and hiding. The main street is lined with wooden buildings, their facades weathered but charming.

You and Toji enter the town cautiously, keeping to the shadows cast by the setting sun. Toji's hat is pulled low, casting a shadow over his piercing eyes, while the collar of his coat is turned up, concealing the distinctive scar on his lip that would give him away. Your hand fan, elegantly decorated with floral patterns, covers the lower part of your face, lending you an air of mystery while hiding your identity.

The tavern, a two-story building with a swinging wooden sign that reads "The Dusty Trail," is alive with activity. The windows glow with warm light, and the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and lively music spill out onto the street. You push open the door, and the cacophony envelops you, a stark contrast to the quiet tension outside.

Inside, the air is thick with the smell of ale, roasted meat, and the faintest hint of cigar smoke. The room is dimly lit, with flickering oil lamps casting a golden glow over the wooden tables and the faces of the patrons. People are engrossed in their own worlds—some playing cards, others engaged in animated conversation, and a few simply enjoying their drinks in solitude.

Toji's presence, even concealed, exudes a quiet intensity that makes people instinctively steer clear. You stay close, your fan still covering your face, but your eyes take in every detail, searching for a safe place to sit.

In one corner, a group of men are engrossed in a card game, their laughter loud and uninhibited. Nearby, a woman with a mournful voice sings a ballad, her eyes closed as she loses herself in the music. At a table near the back, a group of women are deep in conversation, their expressions serious yet animated.

You and Toji exchange a glance, silently agreeing that these women might be the ones you're looking for. With a deep breath, you make your way over to them, weaving through the crowded room with ease.

"Excuse me," you say softly, your voice barely audible over the din. The women look up, their eyes widening slightly as they take in your concealed faces.

"May we join you?" Toji adds, his voice low and steady.

The woman closest to you, a tall figure with kind eyes and an air of authority, studies you for a moment before nodding. "Of course. Please, sit."

You and Toji take your seats, blending into the lively atmosphere as best you can. The women at the table exchange glances, curiosity piqued by your guarded approach. As the conversation begins to flow, you share your story, cautiously at first, but then with growing confidence as you gauge their reactions.

The tall woman with kind eyes, who introduces herself as Eleanor, listens intently, her gaze sharp and thoughtful. "You're the ones they've been talking about, aren't you?" she says quietly. "The Outlaw and his Radical Woman."

Toji gives a slight nod, his hand resting protectively on your knee under the table. "We are," he confirms, his voice low but firm. "And we're looking for allies."

Eleanor and the others exchange meaningful looks before she leans forward. "You've found them. We've been working in secret to support the cause. This town has more sympathizers than you might think."

As plans are discussed and alliances are forged, the atmosphere at the table becomes one of solidarity and shared purpose. Margaret, the seamstress, speaks passionately about organizing women in the town; Lily, the baker, offers her shop as a meeting place; Harriet, the former nurse, talks about tending to those wounded in the fight for equality.

Just as hope begins to blossom among you, the door to the tavern swings open with a loud bang. The room falls silent, all eyes turning to the newcomers—five men with hardened expressions, guns holstered but hands resting ominously on the grips. It's clear from their rugged appearance and the calculating glint in their eyes that these are bounty hunters.

The lead bounty hunter, a burly man with a scar across his cheek, scans the room. His gaze settles on your table, a sinister smile spreading across his face. "Well, well," he drawls. "Look what we have here."

Toji tenses beside you, his eyes narrowing. "Stay calm," he murmurs to you, his hand moving subtly to his side where his gun is hidden as you lift your fan higher.

Eleanor stands, her expression composed but her voice carrying an edge of defiance. "Can we help you, gentlemen?" she asks, stepping between the bounty hunters and the rest of the table.

The scarred man chuckles darkly. "We're looking for an outlaw and his lady. We've heard they might be in these parts. Anyone here seen them?"

A murmur ripples through the tavern, the patrons exchanging nervous glances. The tension is palpable, the room charged with the threat of violence. You glance at Toji, his face set in a grim mask of readiness.

Before anyone can answer, the door bursts open again, this time revealing the sheriff and a few deputies. The sheriff's stern face shows he means business. "What's going on here?" he demands, eyeing the bounty hunters with suspicion.

The lead bounty hunter sneers. "Just looking for some criminals, Sheriff. Stay out of our way, and there won't be any trouble."

The sheriff steps forward, his hand resting on his holstered gun. "This is my town, and I'll decide what kind of trouble we have here."

Without warning, the tension snaps, and the lead bounty hunter draws his gun. But Toji is faster. In a blur of motion, he pulls his revolver and fires, the crack of the gunshot splitting the air. The bounty hunter drops, clutching his shoulder, his gun clattering to the floor.

Chaos erupts as the other bounty hunters draw their weapons. The patrons of the tavern scatter, ducking for cover as gunfire erupts. Toji moves with deadly precision, his shots finding their marks with unerring accuracy. You pull your own gun, a small but reliable derringer, and take aim, firing at one of the attackers who had taken cover behind a table.

Eleanor and the other women move quickly, overturning tables to create makeshift barricades. The sheriff and his deputies flee the fray, leaving you and Toji to face the five bounty hunters, standing in front of the overturned tables to stop innocent townsfolk from getting caught in the crossfire.

A burly bounty hunter lunges forward, his gun aimed directly at you. Time seems to slow as you raise your derringer, your finger squeezing the trigger. The shot rings out, and the man stumbles, a look of shock crossing his face before he collapses.

Toji steps in front of you, his revolver blazing. "Stay down!" he shouts to the townsfolk, his voice carrying above the din. The crowd complies, ducking lower behind the barricades as Toji and you hold your ground.

Eleanor, not content to simply hide, grabs a fallen chair and hurls it at a bounty hunter attempting to flank you. The chair connects with a satisfying thud, and the man goes down, dazed and disoriented.

With two bounty hunters remaining, the odds are slightly more in your favour, but the danger is far from over. The remaining men, sensing their dwindling chances, become more desperate, their shots wild and erratic.

Toji takes a calculated step forward, his eyes locked on the nearest bounty hunter. He fires, the bullet striking true and dropping the man where he stands. The last bounty hunter, a tall, lanky figure with a panicked expression, hesitates, his resolve faltering.

Seeing his chance, Toji strides forward, his revolver aimed steadily. "Drop your weapon," he commands, his voice cold and unwavering. The bounty hunter's eyes dart around the room, realizing he's outmatched and outnumbered.

With a defeated sigh, the man lets his gun clatter to the floor, raising his hands in surrender. Toji kicks the weapon away, his eyes never leaving the bounty hunter's face. "Smart choice," he mutters.

As the chaos subsides and the tavern settles into an uneasy calm, you and Toji find a moment of respite amidst the lingering tension. Ignoring the curious glances of the townsfolk, you lean into each other, sharing a brief but tender kiss—a silent affirmation of your bond and your shared resolve.

In the aftermath of the shootout, Eleanor and the other women continue to tend to the wounded and offer comfort to the shaken townsfolk. Their bravery and determination inspire a newfound sense of unity among the patrons, and whispers of gratitude and admiration fill the air.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, the bond between you and Toji only grew stronger, fortified by the shared trials and triumphs of your journey. Together, you found solace and strength in the company of like-minded individuals, forming a ragtag family united by a common purpose: the pursuit of justice and equality.

With each town you visited, your message resonated with more and more people, drawing them to your cause like moths to a flame. Together, you traversed the rugged landscapes of the Wild West, from bustling towns to remote settlements, spreading your message far and wide.

Twenty-nine years later, the air in the Montana town square is crisp and cold, a sharp contrast to the stifling heat of those early days of your crusade. Autumn has given way to the first whispers of winter, and the town is adorned with the last remnants of fallen leaves. The crowd gathered today is larger than any you've seen before, their faces a mix of anticipation, joy, and a hard-earned sense of victory.

The makeshift stage, now a well-worn platform of polished wood, stands proudly in the centre of the square. It's adorned with banners and signs, their bold letters proclaiming messages of equality and celebration. You stand at the podium, your breath visible in the chilly air, feeling the weight of history pressing down on you. At 49, your face is lined with years of struggle and triumph, your eyes still bright with the same fiery determination that propelled you all those years ago.

Beside you stands Toji, his presence as solid and reassuring as ever. At 54, he carries himself with the same easy grace and quiet strength that drew you to him in those early days. His dark eyes, though touched with the wisdom and weariness of age, still hold that spark of fierce protectiveness and love.

Toji Fushiguro, protector, partner, and father to your son, remains a formidable figure. His reputation has softened with time, the once-feared outlaw now revered as a hero and ally in your shared fight for justice.

Megumi, now 20, stands with you both, his tall, broad-shouldered frame a testament to his father's strength and your unwavering spirit. The green eyes he got from his father, a striking combination of your determination and Toji's intensity, survey the crowd with a mixture of pride and resolve. He's inherited your passion for justice, and today, he stands as a symbol of the future you've fought so hard to secure.

Flanking you are the women who've become your closest allies and dearest friends over the decades—Eleanor, Margaret, Lily, and Harriet—each one bearing the marks of a lifetime dedicated to the cause. They are your sisters in arms, your found family, and together you've built a legacy that will endure for generations.

As you step forward to address the crowd, the murmur of voices quiets, all eyes turning to you. You take a deep breath, the cold air filling your lungs, and begin to speak, your voice carrying the strength and clarity born of years of public oration.

"Today, we stand on the precipice of a new era," you begin, your voice unwavering despite the emotions swirling within you. "For decades, we have fought tirelessly, facing opposition and adversity at every turn. We have marched, we have spoken out, and we have never wavered in our belief that equality is not just a dream but a necessity."

The crowd listens intently, their faces reflecting the weight of your words. You can see the pride and determination in their eyes, a testament to the shared struggle and the collective triumph.

"On this historic day, November 3, 1914, we celebrate not just the victory of securing the right to vote for women in Montana, but the realization of a dream that has driven us forward through the darkest of times. This right is not just a victory for women, but for all people who believe in justice and equality."

Cheers rise from the crowd, their voices a harmonious chorus of celebration and relief. You pause, letting the moment wash over you, before continuing.

"We owe this victory to the countless women and men who stood with us, who faced the threats and dangers with unwavering courage. We owe it to those who could not be here today, whose sacrifices paved the way for this moment. And we owe it to the future generations, who will grow up in a world where their voices are heard, their rights respected, and their potential recognized."

You glance at Toji and Megumi, drawing strength from their presence. Toji's eyes meet yours, a silent affirmation of the journey you've shared, while Megumi's expression mirrors the pride and hope that fills your heart.

"We are not done," you declare, your voice rising with conviction. "This is just the beginning. We will continue to fight for equality, for justice, for a world where everyone is truly free. Together, we will forge a future where our daughters and granddaughters can stand tall and proud, unburdened by the chains of oppression."

The crowd erupts into applause, their cheers echoing through the crisp air. Your heart swells with pride and hope as you step back, allowing your fellow ralliers to speak. Eleanor takes the podium, her voice carrying the same fire and determination as she recounts the struggles and victories of the movement.

Toji steps closer, his arm slipping around your waist in a gesture of solidarity and love. "You did it," he murmurs, his voice filled with pride. "We did it."

You lean into him, the warmth of his embrace cutting through the chill. "We did," you echo, your voice choked with emotion. "And we'll keep fighting, together."

Megumi joins you, his arm slung casually around your shoulders. "You've both taught me what it means to fight for what's right," he says, his voice steady and full of conviction. "I'm proud to be your son."

Tears prick at your eyes, and you squeeze his hand, grateful for the strength and determination he carries forward. "We're proud of you too, Megumi. You're the future we fought for."

As the celebration continues and the speeches give way to joyous mingling and heartfelt congratulations, you take a moment to look around at the faces of those who've become your family. These people, bound together by a shared struggle and a common dream, are the heart of the movement that has changed the world.

As time passed, you continued to witness the seeds of change take root and flourish. Women around the world stood up with one united voice, demanding equality and challenging the status quo. Through your unwavering dedication and tireless advocacy, you helped pave the way for a more just and equitable society.

But time is a relentless force, and eventually, it took its toll. You departed from this world, your spirit ascending to join the stars, leaving behind a legacy that would endure for generations to come. Toji, unable to bear the thought of living without you, followed not long after, his spirit bound to yours in an eternal bond of love and devotion.

Together, you are said to roam the rugged landscapes of the Wild West, your spirits intertwined in an eternal quest for justice and equality. Wherever there is oppression, wherever there is injustice, you are there, following the whispers of your names, serving as a rallying cry for those who dare to dream of a better world. Your legacy lives on, a beacon of hope in a world still striving for change.

On a moonlit night, your ghostly forms stand side by side, gazing out over the vast expanse of the prairie. The wind whispers through the grass, carrying with it the echoes of your past adventures and the hopes of a brighter future.

"Do you remember the first time we rode through these lands, Toji?" you ask, your voice a ghostly echo of its former self.

Toji's ghost turns to you, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "How could I forget? It feels like a lifetime ago, yet somehow, it also feels like yesterday."

You reach out, your translucent hand finding his, the touch sending shivers down your spine. "We've come a long way since then, haven't we?"

Toji's ghost nods, his eyes shining with pride. "We have indeed. But our work is not yet done. There are still battles to be fought, injustices to be righted."

Together, you stand in silent solidarity, your spirits intertwined in a bond that transcends time and space. As the stars twinkle overhead, you know that wherever there is oppression, wherever there is injustice, you will be there, fighting side by side as you always have.

And so, the legend of The Outlaw and His Radical Woman continues to inspire, a testament to the power of love, courage, and the enduring quest for a brighter tomorrow. As long as there are hearts yearning for freedom and voices raised in defiance, you will never be forgotten.

taglist- @sad-darksoul

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x y/n #jjk #jjk au #wild west toji #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #wild west #women's suffrage #suffragists #suffragette

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jinchuls-moved · 1 year ago

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𝙴𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ ·

╰┈➤ miya atsumu x reader

୨ about ୧ showing up at your house was the last thing you expected him to do; showing up when your husband was home made it far far worse

୨ content ୧ cheating (reader on their husband), angst

୨ notes ୧ i wrote something similar like a year ago on my first blog n wanted to rewrite <33

divider by @/cafekitsune

“Is yer husband home?”

He asks the question before you’d even had the chance to greet him, let alone acknowledge it’s was even him at the door—the man you’d all but ghosted 2 weeks beforehand.

“Atsumu.” Your hushed voice gives him his answer as you slide outside with him, shutting the door behind you. “Why are you here?”

“Why am I here?” He scoffs, “Why have you been ignorin’ me?” Folding his arms across his chest he raises an eyebrow when you start to shush him. “What?” He scoffs again, apparently his favourite sound to accompany the look in his eyes you’re not used to seeing—something you’d never thought would be targeted at you. “Scared he’ll find out?”

“There’s nothing for him to find out.” You hiss, glancing to your front window you pray your husband’s curiosity doesn’t get the better of him tonight—the last thing you want is for your mistake, no matter how big it was, to ruin what you’d begun to fight for; to fix.

“Nothin’.” He repeats with yet another scoff, as though you’d said the most unbelievable thing—to him, maybe it was. “4 months of nothin’. Frequent excuses for nothin’. Nights in my bed, comin’ to my matches and telling me yer marriage was on the ropes. Nothin’.” You’d never heard Atsumu so angry, so hurt.

Your stomach drops and the guilt finds its home, a feeling you’d become more than accustomed to at the sight of your husband. But not ‘Tsumu.

“Atsumu-” Your voice and face soften, and he falters at the sound of his name. Is he allowed to be angry at you, when he knew you were a married woman?

He should have listened when Sakusa warned him you were a bad idea.

“No, no.” He stops you, a hand in the air and a sigh escaping his lips. He might not have the right, but he was angry. At you. “Ya can’t just bat yer eyes and speak nice t’me and expect me to fall at yer feet again.”

“I’m not trying anything ‘Tsumu.” The nickname falls from you as though you hadn’t practically broken his heart. “I don’t want you ‘falling at my feet’ again.” Mocking his choice of words your eyebrows furrowed and what little of you still wanted him around disappeared—since when did he act like this? Even if he was frustrated, he had no right. “This was my decision and I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted. But he is my husband. I’ve messed up but i’m not willing to make it worse because you want a quick fuck and a free therapy session.”

“That’s not—” his animosity disappears but you don’t care enough to listen to his excuses.

“I don’t care, Atsumu.” Lifting a hand to stop him, you sigh. “Don’t come here again, don’t call, don’t text.” You begin to open your door again, stepping into the entranceway of your home, your voice is as quiet as when you’d started. “If I could turn back time, I’d never have let this happen.”

“Who was it, Love?” He hears the voice of your husband as the door begins to slowly close. Atsumu waits, yearning for your attention; hoping you’ll admit to the secret tryst and tell the man you married he just wasn’t what you needed but that Atsumu was, regardless of anything you’d told him.

But, of course, it never came. The door closed just as he heard your reply: “No one, Hon.” Surely ready to tell him one last white lie—that he was a salesman with a product you had no interest in or a nosy neighbour ready to accuse you of something your husband would never believe.

It’s that moment where Atsumu realises the things he was most scared of was coming true. All the nights he’s spent beside you in bed, spilling his deepest secrets and listening to every worry you had. All the times he’d barely held himself back from telling you just how in love with you he was and begging for you to leave your husband and run away with him—all those intense, aching feelings were his. Not yours.

#𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝑒𝒸𝒽𝑜 ༉‧₊˚.#atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #hq x reader #hq angst

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luimagines · 1 year ago

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Fake Engagement Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Part three will include Time, Wild and Legend.

Content under the cut!

Time

You sighed and shook your head. This isn’t going to work as well as your thought.

There was very few good to choose from but there wasn’t enough to fill up your entire group. You didn’t want to buy out their entire stock but it was looking more and more likely that either you left to find other options or leave these the locals without food.

“Take all the time you need.“ The shop owner waved you off, albeit suspiciously. He’s been watching you the entire time and it’s making you feel more self-conscious than you’re willing to admit. You can just feel his judgment about you taking your sweet time.

“Ah- thank you.” You can feel yourself flushing as you begin to reach for your wallet. “How much for the carrots?”

He eyes you up and down for a moment before a slimey smile appears on his face. “I’ll give you a discount if you can answer some questions of mine.”

You just wanted to make sure that your boys were fed! This is already taking longer than you’d like. But you can already hear the voices of some of the others if you didn’t take this deal. Besides, it’s just a few questions, right? How bad can it be?

You nod, playing with your wallet in your hands. “Sure.”

“What’s your name?”

You tell him and he smiles wider, leaning on the stall to get closer to you.

“That’s not a local name.” He comments with that same sleezy smile. “Where are coming from? Are you just visiting?”

You begin to feel a little more nervous. “Yes. Just visiting. I’m from very far away. I doubt you’ve heard of it.”

“Try me.” He smirks. “How long will you be here for?”

“Long enough so we can wed.” Time slides up behind you putting his hand on your hip. “The carrots, my good man?”

The man falters and leans back. “Wed?”

“Yes.” Time smiles easily. “We’re on our way to my side of the family for tradition. But we need food for the road. The carrots?”

The man frowns and pouts, muttering the price under his breath as he starts bagging up as many carrots as he can.

Time doesn’t seem to hear him. He simply takes a large pouch of rupees and drops it onto the counter, taking the bag away from the man with one hand and pulling you close to him with the other. “Thank you very much.”

He starts to guide you away from the stall, making sure to keep his eyes on the man.

You slowly begin to relax, leaning closer to Time. He seems to be leading you away with a purpose ad you’re too frazzled from the interaction to care.

“Are you alright?” He pulls away from you, brushing his hand over your hair. “He didn’t try to get any closer, did he?”

“No.” You take a breath. “Thank you. I didn’t know how to get out of there.”

“He was practically on top of half of the produce just to be closer to you.” Time growls. “Who knows what he had in mind. I didn’t trust it.”

You nod, hooking your wallet back onto your belt. “I didn’t even notice.”

Time nods, taking your hand. “Come on. Let’s back to the others.”

Flustered, you follow him without question. It’s only until that you reach the rest of your group that his words enter your mind. To be wed?! Like wedding?! TIME!

Wild

“Do you have a plan?”

“When do I ever have a plan?”

“Fantastic. We’re all going to die.”

“Love the energy. Let’s do this.”

You shook your head and followed the young man. “So if anyone asks what am I supposed to say?”

“That we’re married.”

“Hell no.”

“Ok, then we’re about to get married.” Wild rolled his eyes. “First of all, I would be a fantastic husband, thank you very much. And secondly, that’s the only excuse you can use to get into a party like this and not seem suspicious for sticking to my side like glue.”

You huff and plaster on a fake smile when you reach the gates. The guard eyes you up and down with more scrutiny than you personally think is called for before letting you both inside. You gulp, only to hold on to Wild tighter. “Is this a bad time to say that I hate these kind of parties?”

“Most people do.” Wild takes his hand out of yours, wrapping it instead around your waist. “But we’re here to start a whisper campaign, so we don’t have t be here for long.”

“How come you got in so easily though?”

“Hero and all that jazz.” Wild winks your way. “Rich people want publicity so I was virtually invited free of charge.”

“Does that mean I’ve been charged?”

“Not if you’re my fiancé.” Wild whispers teasingly. He raises his other hand, calling for a few drinks. “Just follow my lead and laugh and my jokes and we’re get out of this alive.”

“Lovely.” You fix your hair and try to act like a happy couple in love. You hadn’t registered just how many people would recognize Wild on the spot. Within moments you were being swamped with more and more people who wanted to talk to him. And you by consequence.

What were you doing with the Hero of Hyrule, they asked. How did you meet? How did you hear of this party? What are you to him?

And thus, your whisper campaign began.

You needed to get enough information out to this gullible people where you would seem innocent and believable and in turn, they would repeat your words in the next conversation.

Wild never once took his arm away from you and you found that your arm was perfectly comfortable being around him as well. With enough time, it no longer felt forced. You were simply having a good time with the Champion next to you as you tricked all these people into helping your next course of action.

“Time to go.” Wild whispered into your ear. You blushed at the close proximity, giving more nosey character the wrong impression.

So when Wild takes your hand and very purposefully drags you away form the party, looking excited at your flustered look, let’s just say that there were more whispers going around the nobility than you originally intended.

Legend

“And when I saw him, I knew that my life would never be the same.” You laughed around polite company. “After an entrance like that, how could it? But then he was just so charming and sweet, we decided to keep in contact.”

“Meaning, they found my workshop and visited every other day with sweet treats and flowery words.” Legend speaks up as he takes your hand. “I hate to interrupt, but I need to ask my beloved a question. Excuse us.”

You nod and allow yourself to be led away by the hero. He looks calm and collected, however, you’re nothing but a nervous wreck. And when he eventually pulls you both around a corner, your fears are proven true.

He spins on his heel and whispers harshly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Talking to people.” You whisper back just as harshly. “Like you told me to! What was I supposed to say? They think we’re together!”

“I heard that part!” He snaps. “And you just went along with it?”

You flick his forehead, trying to keep your voice down. “What do you want from me?! It’s not like any of them are ever going to see us again! We have to blend in and not look suspicious! We might as well give them half of what they want while the others get their job done.”

Legend groans. “Really? That’s it? Don’t you know what this means? They’ll talk all about the two of us. Word will spread and until we can get out of this town in one piece, everyone is going to think we’re together.”

You fail to see how that’s such a bad thing to be honest. It’s not like anyone would care that much about either of you. And it’s not like Legend is the only hero these people know about.

Legend however, seems to be growing only more agitated. “I can’t believe you! Or this! Why do I always get dragged into situations like this?”

He looks down, seeing something on his boot. He kneels, muttering to himself. After a beat he holds out his hand, still on his knee. “This is outrageous. Can you hand me an earring? I need to fix this real quick.”

You go to reach for one of your without question just as someone turns the corner. You can’t be found out. this is too crucial for anyone t be out of place! Thinking on your feet, you gasp, covering your hand. You cry out and jump on Legend. “Yes! I will!”

The poor unsuspecting soul flusters greatly before giving a polite clap and a congratulatory bow. “Happy tidings to the both of you!”

Legend puts his hands on you, steadying you before you both fall over. “Ah- uh- yes! Thank you! Sorry. I wanted it to be private.”

“Right, right, of course.” They cough before the scurry away- most likely to tell other about what they had just seen.

Legend’s eyes twitches and he throws you off. “When this is over-”

“You owe me.” You say cheekily, kissing his cheek for good measure. “Well, hubby, let’s go back to the party. It’s a shame we don’t have a ring.”

Legend groans louder, standing up. He takes your hand, taking a ring off of his finger and putting it on yours. “I can’t believe you did this. This was not in the plan.”

“Come on Vet~” You giggle, letting him do as he pleases. “Improvise a little. With this going around, everyone will ignore whatever Hyrule and Wind are doing.”

“You better be right.” He pulls away, admiring the ring for a moment before he gives you his arm to take.

“Rule number one.” You take it with a grin. “I am always right.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader

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