#unless he absolutely can't avoid it
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shadesmcgee · 2 days ago
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NYOOM
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spurgie-cousin · 8 months ago
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i ask this in 100% good faith as some one who's just read over Trump's 2025 manifesto: what the fuck are we supposed to do
like i know the big call is to not vote for Biden or Trump and trust me I do not want to vote for Joe, but the manifesto is going after the rights of women, pregnant people, every type of person under the LGBTQ umbrella, POC, and in a political climate where Roe v. Wade was overturned i feel like it's completely possible that he'd be able to achieve at least some of that so
is there a 3rd party candidate I don't know about?? or what is the plan here bc tbh as a queer person and someone who was planning to be pregnant in the next year I'm scared as hell like are we really just not voting? It's 7 months out and I feel like no one is agreeing on what to do
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gremlinmodetweeker · 6 months ago
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Hugging König
Hope you like your spine breaking, bro. No seriously this guy will give soul crushing hugs. It's gotten to the point that the only safe way to hug him is to give him an awkward shoulder side hug. Anything more and you risk your life.
If you've gotten to the point that this man is willingly hugging you without holding himself back, you are one of the blessed(?) few to ever experience this phenomena. Don't get me wrong, he does the awkward polite hug when leaving parties before, but other than that the only time he hugs people is if they hug him first, and even then he gives an awkward pat on the back before he subtly shimmies away. The only others close enough to experience a true König Hug (tm) are Horangi and his family. If you've gotten the privilege to have this man hug you, you've earned his deepest trust and respect.
The only way to get this oaf to loosen his grip is if you squeak, which will remind him that he is in fact a big man and so he'll relax a bit, giving the true glory of a König hug. Once he relaxes his grip, they are the absolute best hugs. They're so warm and he's got a nice amount of softness to his form, so you can sink into his chest. If you want to hold on, he'll rock you gently and tuck his face into your hair. Honestly, if it weren't his first instinct to kill everything with overbearing kindness, he might actually be a viable hug therapist. Sadly, unless you train him otherwise, he's a chiropractor.
In the end, you can probably train him to be a bit gentler and not crack your back whenever he comes back home to you (unless you have a death wish, in which case hats off to you for being able to take it). Sometimes he'll get overwhelmed and forget his training, so just watch out for that. Maybe put a barrier between you and him when he comes back from a long deployment if you want to avoid meeting God prematurely. Also, I'm sorry to tell you this, but please don't assume your training will apply to anyone but you. Pray for anyone you introduce this man to.
However, one thing you can't train out of this man is how he hugs you. His favourite hugs are a bit of an ordeal. He'll crouch down and envelope you in a hug and then stand up straight so your feet are dangling. This is regardless of your height, btw. He's done this to Horangi (it took him a whole minute to process what happened because nobody's picked him up in a hug since he was 12). You, his partner, are most certainly not immune, no matter your size. You weigh over 300 lb? He'll lift you. This man has one helluva dead lift.
You will be lifted.
You will be crushed.
Nobody is safe from König's hugs.
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astrologysaysno · 29 days ago
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I keep giggling at 1 am in the morning about the idea of an A/B/O SVSSS Au where Shang Qinghua is an omega but absolutely sucks at it.
So imagine that he's presents as an omega, but to Shang Qinghua, he can't seem to feel it. Everyone else seems to feel his 'omega-ness' when he presented, so it's probably just him that can't feel the change. The system himself said that he was an omega (A/B/O was never canon, so Airplane wouldn't have thought about what secondary gender SQH was) so he just has to roll with it.
The rest of his story is just him flubbing and epicly failing at this whole Omega thing. Even his system has given up.
His Non-A/B/O first life as Airplane has left his brain incompatible with his body, the motor skills and instincts that you're supposed to have going with your secondary gender are out of the picture, it is not built into his mainframe, so he's basically a de-facto beta with extra no second gender psychologically speaking.
His superiors are keeping a wary eye on him, his fellow peers a wash of mixed reactions to his overall behaviour, worried about who he is and his complete disregard for norms or basic instincts.
He appears completely scent blind to pheromones, nor does he seem to be able to control his own. His master remembers a time where he was the unfortunate victim of two aggressive alphas fighting in the dorms, causing so much havoc they ended up breaking his inkbrush.
The scent from him when it broke was so acrid and sharp they immediately ceased, though he seems to be none the wiser, acting in his usual cowardly manner while shakily asking them to stop.
His martial brothers have never seen him nest in all of the years he's been on the peak. Not a single piece of clothing, not anything comfortable. He simply had a single pillow and a blanket for cold nights as he dozed off. It doesn't help that he avoids everyone like the plague, so even if he tried, he didn't even have anything to build one with
(The system tried to give him the task of making a nest, and he completely misunderstood, building an actual bird nest on his mattress. The system decided not to give nor take points, simply choosing to shame their host for this stupidity. Shang Qinghua keeps it by the windowsill, a memento for unintentionally spiting fate and living.)
In comparison to the rest of his fellow An Ding Disciples, he's antisocialism incarnate, zero bonds that connect him to anyone. (Shang Qinghua can't afford that, not unless he wants the weight of people on his conscience when he betrays his sect.)
It's kind of like that one classmate everyone is familiar with, but no one actually knows them. They just see him in class and forget the rest. He's scarily competent in group works and is capable of working with people, but he's never gonna respond to your text to hangout after the project is submitted and graded.
His master sees this as a detriment. How is he going to be able to have healthy relations with his future pack as a peak lord if he can't seem to get the initiative to actually communicate and bond with them.
So he coordinates a trial run with the Bai Zhan and Qing Jing Peak to help their own head disciples get a grip. A mission to be given to them to get them to open up and become closer as friends.
It backfires tremendously, only ending with the three of them becoming more prickly or antisocial. Only the most formal of greetings will ever seem to come out of Shen Jiu's mouth now, barely hiding his sharp demeanour. Liu Qingge seems to be at least willing to talk to others now, but his relation ship to the future leader of Qing Jing has now soured.
And Shang Qinghua is now more apathetic to the idea of bonding to his future pack, rathering to become completely detached from them.
(Shang Qinghua is destined to be a traitor, so why should he allow himself to experience the cruelty of betraying someone he cares about. It would be kinder this way)
[Love the fact that I just went absolutely everywhere with no coherent thoughts. Enjoy the word vomit I guess.]
[The random sequel I wrote is here]
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movedto-gemini-atz · 5 months ago
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Yunho as your Boyfriend (Realistic + Astrology Based)
Contains NSFW, minors please use caution or dni!! I will put all NSFW headcanons under a cut if you're looking for more fluffy feelings in general and would like to avoid.
Background/Disclaimer: !!This is all my own interpretation based on my personal astrology knowledge and research. I consider myself an amateur!!
Please see here for other members
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Genre / Au / Trope : Smut, Imagines
Rating: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI
Warnings: mostly vanilla, c0ckwarm1ng mention, Yunho has a tights fet1sh??
Follow my new URL
YUNHO SUN Aries MOON Gemini MERCURY Pisces VENUS Taurus MARS Scorpio
Yunho as your boyfriend feels like the personification of a hoodie just out of the dryer, just a big warm hug for you both physically and emotionally. He's unusually honest and he definitely asks you out first. Mercury in Pisces can be challenged by their ability to communicate their true thoughts, I can see him saying strange or awkward things in front of you the first few times you meet, but by the time he’s resolved to ask you out his Aries and Taurus can take over. He will be straightforward with his wants and needs and doesn’t appear nervous at all when asking you out. He just feels comfortable and easygoing to be around and a lot of that is stemming from his Moon in Gemini and that Venus in Taurus (literally so silly and fun, like the boy next door type). He can make you laugh endlessly, not in a way that he's TRYING to be funny, I think he just does things that he doesn't realize are so silly and cute, sometimes bordering on being funny because he’s being so awkward about something. If you guys drank together he'd probably turn into the aegyo machine just to make you laugh and cringe and then feel absolutely mortified the next day.
He craves physical contact from you as much as he can get, like the "I can't fall asleep unless at least my foot is touching you" type. When you're at a restaurant with a booth, he wants to sit in the same booth. When you've both just woken up in the morning and you're trying to brush your teeth in the mirror, he drapes himself over you, sleepily swaying and rubbing his face into the back of your head which would be super cute and sweet if he also didn't have one hand sneakily slipping up under your shirt. He doesn't think of himself as the jealous type, and you might not notice that he is either. Taurus Venus placements can be more chill that way but his Scorpio Mars has him possessive of you. It doesn't present itself as aggressively as it might in someone like San (Scorpio in Venus AND Mars oooo boy) but more like if you're at a party and he sees you talking to another guy he might come up behind you and wrap his arms fully around you, leaning down and planting a big kiss on the side of your neck before giving the other guy an innocent "What?" type look. Instead of directing his jealous energy at you or starting a fight, he simply physically shows everyone around that you're his. I think this works well with his Mercury in Pisces since articulating and getting their deeply felt emotions doesn’t often come across how they want; his natural ability to physically show you his affection means he won’t be insecure about whether or not you understand his love for you. But just because he has an easygoing nature, you shouldn't push him too hard in the jealousy department. He needs to feel that your care for him is equal. He's never careless with your feelings and these placements can be extremely wounded and not show it.
Yunho loves having matching keychains, shirts, pajamas, etc. with you. Taurans are all about good food and showing their love that way, you'd probably gain weight in no time because he wants to feed you CONSTANTLY. His instagram feed is just selfies of you guys trying out that new restaurant or cafe. Rather than going out on dates every weekend, he's more of a stay at home together guy; movie nights, two player games, just cuddling and making out energy. He isn't over the top with gifts/displays of love, it might seem like he isn't as passionate as others but the peace and comfort he can bring is so rewarding.
NSFW HEADCANONS
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Romantically and Sexually his Venus and Mars sign working together create a bit of a double identity, your friends might not even believe when you tell them what he's capable of in bed because they only see that goofy sweet side.
Oral. He loves it, both giving and receiving. He'd love eating you out to distract you from activities; You'd be in the kitchen trying to start dinner when you'd feel him behind you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and kissing your ear before whispering that he needs to taste you right now and if you let him the next thing you know he'd be dropping to his knees behind you, yanking down your shorts and panties and eating you from the back, just slurping and sucking and making plenty of noise like you were the best meal he’d ever had. In the morning you might find yourself woken up by him kissing your thighs and when he notices you awake, and he gives you those puppy eyes, seeking permission to just lay between your legs as long as he wants, lapping at your pussy. He’d move his head away when he feels you getting closer and closer to your orgasm and look up at you with the most innocent smile while you whimper his name pleadingly, As your peak fades he would dip his head back down to kiss your clit and by this time you’re so swollen and sensitive, the gentle pressure of his lips sends shocks of heat through your lower body before he starts back up again, dragging his tongue through your folds and groaning softly, his eyes closed in appreciation for your taste. By the time he’s ready to let you cum, one of your hands is already tangled in his hair, holding his face steady while you helplessly move your hips against him and he reaches up to clasp your other hand, his long fingers feeling cool and comforting against your feverish skin.
When it comes to sucking him off, he likes to see how long he can keep you down there. It's not even about cumming for him he just wants to watch you struggle to take all of him. There would be times you'd be in the mood and try to kiss him and sit on his lap while he's busy with a game only for him to give you a sympathetic smile and tell you "I'll take care of you once I'm done with this game baby." If you pout and try to walk away, he'd grab your hand and pull you back, leaning up to give you a kiss before flicking his eyes slowly down your body and telling you to "get under the desk". Twenty minutes later his cock has gone from soft to fully rock hard in your mouth and you've been warming him obediently under the desk for that long, moaning pitifully ever so often, your jaw starting to ache but your head and body feel floaty. No thoughts in your head, just a pliant hole for him. If you start to try sucking or moving on it he pushes your head back gently before returning it to his mouse. "Bad girl, not yet. Go ahead and play with yourself for me, I'm nearly done". Hearing the rustles of you slipping your hand into your soaking panties to touch yourself while trying to hold yourself back from sucking him nearly drives him over the edge but he's able to keep it together long enough to finish his game before taking his headset off slowly and slightly moving his chair back. He’d gently guide his cock from your mouth before slapping it heavily against your cheek a few times, sending little shivers down your spine at the weight of it. “What am I going to do with you?” He’d ask, tilting his head to the side with that boyish grin, petting the top of your head so gently while his other hand guides his cockhead to press against your lips , smearing his precum around and around. He’d be completely caught up in how swollen they were because of him.
As far as kinks or fetishes I am getting strong 'office lady' and socks/nylons guy from him. Black tights especially, he'd probably be buying a constant supply from how many he rips open to get to your pussy or how many get covered in his cum from him asking for you to use your feet on his cock while wearing them. Seeing you in a pencil skirt, tights and heels for a job interview would have him acting so crazy, by the time you walk back through the door it's on sight, he fucks you right there in the hallway, with your hands and face shoved up against the wall.
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This is my first Ateez imagine, it was a lot of fun and I haven’t written in a long time, I’ll work to keep improving! If you share some of Yunho s chart or know someone with his placements and agree (or disagree!) with some of the interpretations I’d love to hear about it, I’m always gathering data 🤣
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whetstonefires · 3 months ago
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Thinking about the parallels set up between Wei Wuxian and Mo Xuanyu, and how actually most of them are oddly specious.
The sketch of the backstory lines up, but on close examination they're mirror images.
Wei Wuxian wasn't kicked out of his sect, he left it. Wei Wuxian didn't hate the house he grew up in, he loved it, and getting the people there killed was the absolute last purpose for which his dark powers were ever intended.
Jiang Cheng was no Mo Ziyuan--his jealousy was a complicated thing all twisted up with love, and while he would lash out at Wei Wuxian both as a casual means of shit communication and more damagingly in moments of high tension, he had neither the desire nor the ability to bully him, and in general respected his boundaries almost too well.
When Wei Wuxian destroyed himself about Jiang Cheng, it was to give him cultivation, and protect his life and happiness. He would never have killed him.
Madam Yu was a domineering aunt-like figure, who hated Wei Wuxian for reasons of reputation, and because she had resented his dead mother, but she crucially did not have the power to actually disrupt his lifestyle to any significant extent.
Mo Xuanyu was shut up in a small room to rot; Wei Wuxian didn't even attend classes unless he wanted to. Mo Xuanyu was weak and disliked; Wei Wuxian was brilliant and popular.
Mo Xuanyu's uncle is a cipher of a figure, without character or agency, a nonentity who is resented to death apparently mostly for what he didn't do; in theory he is the master of the house, but he certainly never protected his wife and son's punching bag from them.
And this is what got me thinking along this track: because people keep interpreting Jiang Fengmian as this, as exactly like Mo Xuanyu's nameless uncle, a nonentity who lets his wife make all the decisions, and is contemptible therefore.
He shows up in fic characterized this way all the time, handled narratively as a gap rather than a person, an absence where there should have been a parent, and it's...totally inaccurate? The man only has a few scenes but the things that are most firmly established about him are:
he regularly goes out of his way to protect Wei Wuxian
he's extremely fond of Wei Wuxian
he cares a lot about ethical behavior
he's conflict-avoidant and gentle
he can and will overrule Yu Ziyuan when he's made up his mind, and there's nothing she can do about it
his communication skills are mediocre at best
he doesn't understand jiang cheng
he has a dumb sense of humor
Now almost none of this made it into cql besides point 4 and maybe 6, 5 is technically there but buried by the cinematic framing, so I totally get why the fandom on the whole struggles to characterize him well, and it's easier to write him off.
But it keeps bugging me to see him and Yu Ziyuan squashed into the mold of the Mo, because not only is that boring and reductive and kind-of-missing-the-point, it's like. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng's characterization suffers a lot when you alter the environment and take away the influence exerted by their shared father figure.
Jiang Fengmian was Wei Wuxian's primary adult role model and it shows.
Jiang Cheng's relationship to his own sense of ethics is fraught because 'teaching him good ethics' was his dad's number one parenting goal, but they misunderstood each other so badly (partly because Yu Ziyuan kept loudly misinterpreting them to each other, which is so realistic I can't get over it, that's exactly how it works good lord) that Jiang Cheng has a direct association between the concept of 'doing the right thing even when it's hard' and a feeling of personal inadequacy.
The fact that Wei Wuxian got their dad-person's approval for being exactly himself and Jiang Cheng not only couldn't do that, he couldn't even get that same level of approval when he really pushed himself to rise to expectations, because Jiang Fengmian did not intend that warmth as a 'reward,' and so never realized he was withholding it, and therefore misunderstood Jiang Cheng's visible jealousy as a dangerous sense of personal entitlement that had to be carefully restrained, which reinforced his distrust of Jiang-Cheng-the-person and fed into a shitty loop where they were less and less able to relate to one another--that's fantastic. That's so human! I love it so much.
Both their failures are their own but at the same time it would never have gotten so bad if Yu Ziyuan hadn't been interjecting herself in there, in the middle of their relationship, fucking it up. That's family, baby.
I would ofc like if there was more fic engaging with the subtleties of all this because it's so good, mxtx did such elegant work here and it is not sufficiently appreciated. But it's the kind of thing that's hard to write good fic about; I am struggling with it myself.
So mostly I wish there was just more fic that didn't impose Mo Xuanyu's cliche angst backstory on Wei Wuxian, who has a whole different thing going on.
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bamfkeeper · 5 months ago
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Kurt going absolutely feral if he sees you hurt, you never expected him to be so vicious.
I think sometimes people get caught up in his playfulness and kind hearted nature but can be absolutely vicious when he wants to be. If you got hurt in battle or if someone hurt you in any way, he'd lose his mind.
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, descriptions of injuries and blood/cleaning wounds, gender neutral reader, unedited ignore mistakes.
WC: 1.4k
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Kurt loves you so much, and he shows it every single chance he gets. He's thoughtful, patient, and he listens to you whenever you need him to. Sometimes his friends forget what he's capable of under all that sweetness he displays. You do too.
You never saw him go all out in the Danger Room. Most of the time, training by his side consisted of Kurt sticking to you like glue and protecting you. You eventually had to ask him to stop, you needed to try to fight on your own. How else would you learn?
He still watched like a hawk, observing from a distance, since he could absolutely teleport to you if he needed. While the Danger Room presented threats in a fake projection and had hard obstacles, there was no real threat. Sure, you could get hurt, nothing would actively attempt to cause severe harm.
But real battles were different.
In real life, your opponent will try to kill you.
In real life, there are consequences if you aren't careful.
When your first mission came, Kurt insisted on coming with the chosen members for the team, he wouldn't let you go off on your own. You could handle yourself, he knew that. But he still couldn't shake the feeling of not knowing what would happen if he wasn't there.
"Kurt, I'll be fine. You know I've been working hard and I've passed all the tests," you said calmly, while he shifted beside you and gave you a small pout. You knew he was just trying to keep you safe, he cared so much and all he wanted to do was protect you. His tail wrapped around your leg and he sighed back.
"I know, liebling..." he whispered softly, "But I cannot help it. I know you are strong, and fully able to care for yourself." he held your cheeks and smiled at you. "I just want to make sure you'll be okay."
"I can't get any better if you're always there to be my safety net, Kurt." you cooed, but with a small frown. "Sometimes, I need to get hurt so I can get tougher. Or so I can improve my skills. Besides, Scott said I've been doing really good and that I'm ready, otherwise he wouldn't have chosen me for this mission." you added. "You know he can be a stickler."
Kurt chuckled in return, "Ja, he can be rather strict...but I want to make sure you're safe. I won't interfere, not unless I have to." Kurt promised softly.
During the big fight, you were facing three larger enemies. The men held weapons and began to swing them at you, but you were trained enough to dodge and avoid their hits. You were doing well, swinging back and avoiding their weapons, but three against one was hard. You weren't used to such relentless attacks, at least not from opponents hellbent on actually killing you.
In the heat of the moment, you mistook your step, not able to move out of the way quick enough. You feel a fist connect to your jaw, then your cheek, then the center of your nose. You stumble back and feel something flow down your nose, a metallic taste on your tongue.
You get a little roughed up, a few more good punches to the face and being tossed around from the sudden barrage of attacks. You had been caught off guard, as you were used to Kurt showing up within the second to defend you. You were grateful, but mentally cursed yourself for relying on him mid-battle.
Kurt fights off a few opponents and looks just in time to see you thrown onto your back and roll a little from the force of impact. He sees blood on your face and your body shake as you try to stand and recover. At that moment, he looses all composure.
He rushes at the opponent, "Stay away from them!" he snarled angrily, teleporting on top of them and knocking them away from you. He swings his swords and begins an intense duel with them. Hitting over and over, weaseling away from their reactive attacks while landing fierce strikes. You watch from the ground, your pain momentarily subsided as you witness his attack.
You have never seen Kurt so fast. He swings and jumps, his agile body moving almost like water, avoiding any counter the opponent had. If he wasn't battling, you would've been fooled that he was performing for the circus again. He was so elegant to watch, how he moved was hypnotizing. His tail wrapped around the opponent's arm and jerked so their fist collided with their face. Kurt jumped off and let the enemy fall onto their back.
He showed his swords, giving a growl, "Is that all you got, wretched bastards." Kurt spoke with malice in his voice, teleporting between them and knocking the two opponents down with a single twist and kick. When he landed he pointed his sword at them, silent victory.
Kurt glared down at the enemies while the rest of the team with you secured them. He didn't take his eyes off the men who attacked you, glaring and baring his teeth like an animal. He growled and watched as they were all gathered so the team could clear the area. Only after the men were secured did he turn back and rush to you.
"Liebling!" A sudden puff of smoke appeared beside you, and so did he. "Are you okay??" he asked, kneeling down as his hands gently took your cheeks, his eyes taking in your bloodied face. "You're hurt....it's okay. I'm here, I'll get you to the jet..." he carefully cradled you, your surroundings flashed with brilliant purple and black shades, like you were rushing through clouds with bright light peeking through before your surroundings suddenly appeared as the interior of the jet.
"Just relax. I will take care of you, where do you hurt?" he asked, quickly grabbing one of the first aid kits. Your ribs hurt badly, and if they weren't broken you'd be shocked. You had taken a few good hits to the face, and hitting the ground just made your hip sore. But luckily nothing too serious.
"Kurt...m'fine, really." you rasped out, slowly wiping your nose, looking down at the blood that had collected. "Just a little sore...I'm alright." you reasoned with your blue lover, but he shook his head.
"Nein, schatz...you are beaten black and blue..." he knelt back down and gently wiped your face with a rag to clean the blood. He positioned your head up slightly, dabbing a cotton ball soaked with rubbing alcohol. The smell made you cringe, and you leaned back as your cheek stung.
"Ow..." you mumbled, "Kurt, please. I can handle myself," you looked up to continue to talk but the look on his face made you pause. He was worried, he didn't like seeing you hurt. He wanted to take care of you, that was all. He looked back at you, his yellow eyes full of concern and sadness. So you held your tongue and allowed him to continue, even though you were fully capable of doing this, there was no harm letting him.
He dabbed your cuts clean, then applied some ointment to them. The entire time he tended to you, he made sure that he was very gentle. "Easy, liebe...just a little bit more." He applied the last butterfly bandage to your cheekbone and pulled back, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "Done."
You sighed with relief, sitting up with some trouble since your ribs were definitely damaged. "Thank you, Kurt...you're always so sweet to me." you smiled and kissed his cheek. He eagerly responded and he kissed you back after you pulled away. His tail wrapped around your waist gently and he positioned to hold you.
"We will leave soon. For now just rest...I promise to tend to you if I need to." he whispered, holding your head to rest on his chest. You couldn't fight him anymore, and you relaxed against him. His tail slowly rubbed up and down your back just as you liked, lulling you to sleep.
"Schlaf gut." he whispered, nuzzling his nose into your hair and feeling satisfied with you pulled against him. It scared him, seeing you on the ground like that. You didn't have any serious wounds, but he couldn't imagine if you did. He knew it was bound to happen one day, being part of the team meant every once in a while, injury will occur. He shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts.
Instead he just held you a little tighter, happy you were safe and okay.
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Thanks for reading.
*BAMF*
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dividers by @/adornedwithlight
Cover Images: Way of X #5 (2021); X-Men the Onslaught Revelation #1 (2021); Way of X #5 (2021)
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paragonrobits · 8 months ago
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i was just thinking about how in later Discworld books, even as its an unspoken understanding among everyone in Ankh-Morpork that Carrot is the King of the city and he's probably the last descendant of the original ruling line, not only does Carrot avoid pushing the narrative to exploit it unless absolutely necessary, but it never de-emphasizes the fact that he's a dwarf by adoption
Even in later books Carrot is still regularly writing letters to his family in their mine; he thinks of himself as a dwarf, he is CONSIDERED to be a dwarf by all except the most hardliners of dwarf society (and even they can't outright deny him dwarf status, the best they can do is say he is an anomaly); he might USE his narrative status as the One True King, but in his heart, to himself, he is still the child of the Ironfounderssons.
His human heritage is functionally irrelevant to him unless he needs to make use of it, much like his ancestral sword. And it occured to me, what if he actively chose to distance himself from his human heritage because he learned about them in later books and found nothing worth acknowledging?
Carrot is in a weird place because he is the One True King, a narrative status that makes him the good and wise king who knows only truth and justice and comes bringing goodness to all, and this is quite a contrast to the ACTUAL kings of Ankh-Morpork, who were universally at BEST a bunch of horribly useless and inept absolute rulers that are living embodiments of 'the aristocracy are dumber than a sack of doorknobs' the series leans into, and at worst are implcitly some of the most horribly sadistic and cruel people in the setting.
One particular example is Lorenzo the Kind, the last king of Ankh-Morpork, whose name was deliberately ironic; he was so horrifically sadistic that he spelled the end of the kingship because he's the one who was killed by Suffer-Not-Injustice Vimes, who because no one was willing to judge him because kings were considered Special, just dragged him off his throne, cut off his head, and the surviving family members were exiled from the city.
Lorenzo is the last member of Carrot's biological ancestry we have definitive information on, off the top of my head, and he paints a dark, horrific image. He's painted as the absolute nadir of horror from the ruling classes, and is heavily implied to have been a sadistic pedophile with a penchant for torture (at the very least Carrot and Vimes both note that he was apparently fond of children and was painted with a lot of them nearby at all times, discussing it in a way that suggests a DEEPLY uncomfortable topic neither of them wants them to address, and later in Feet Of Clay Vimes points out that Lorenzo had unspecified but horrific machines in the basement).
Carrot is very strongly implied to, at least starting from Men At Arms (in which he discovers he is the king), have investigated his ancestry, and he's able to elaborate on their actions and history, and this also marks the point where he carefully but firmly emphasizes his dwarf heritage for the rest of the series.
He found out who his ancestors were, and discovered they were horrifically evil people, and that Mister Vimes was fully justified in being proud of his ancestor putting them down like rabid beasts, and it leads to him firmly emphasizing that his family are the Ironfoundersson dwarfs.
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yandere-sins · 5 months ago
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If traumatizing the yans is your thing, let me present: a darling who lovebombs and ghost + an insecure/paranoid yandere! It'll work on yans like Azul, Idia, Malleus, and Scara since man's probably scared of darling leaving on the inside.
I'll pick the first two because they fit it so well, thank you for requesting! ♥
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Azul
♡ Azul is used to being, well, used. He profits from it more than anyone else, and honestly, it never bothered him before, even when a deal fell through. If the deal was important, he made it so it would succeed. That's why it was even more taunting for him when the deal he wanted to make with you kept being delayed. Why? It wasn't his fault; that much was very clear. You showed early on that you had every intention to seal the deal—become his personal attendant on call whenever he wanted in exchange for all the riches and things you wanted in life. Azul would have made you a star if that had been your goal, rich and famous and adored by everyone—while he was still pulling the strings in the background, making you share his bed at night without any exceptions.
♡ But there's no way he could stay mad at you for long. Sure, you never sign the contract that would make you all his, even though you coax him into expensive dinners and dates constantly that he pays out of his own pocket for you. However, with you feeding him dessert, giggling at his jokes, and complimenting his prowess and intelligence, Azul can't help but boast and blush at everything you say, looking more love-struck than ever when you hug his arm on the way home, telling him how great he is and how much you appreciate all he does for you. He is a great provider, but he loves hearing it from your mouth. You make him feel so good when you feed into his obsession; tell him he's the only one for you. That you can only rely on him and that you want no one else. Azul even promises to provide anything you want as you two stand in front of your home, brushing his thumb over your lips as he waits for you to give him the pleasure of kissing you, almost sealing the deal. He promises to give you all you desire when you come to sign the contract tomorrow—he could even come and pick you up for the appointment! But as he leans forward, you just grin, quickly kissing his cheek before leaving him high and dry in your doorway, offering him a wink as you close the door.
♡ And after that, you never show up. Even the twins are avoiding Azul's office, trying not to get too close to him as he is absolutely fuming, lashing out, and tearing apart anything in his way. It was all fun and games until you kept repeating stunts like that, and Azul's patience is wearing really thin. He plans to take the contract with him next time, place it in front of you the moment the overly expensive bill comes, and tell you how you'll have to pay this time unless you sign the damn contract. He even fantasizes about guiding your hand to sign the document before finally getting his piece of cake right then and there, out in public if he must. You've been putting off your responsibility in this relationship, and he's over it. But damn... he sure as hell wasn't ready for the waterworks to start once he puts you on the spot. And how can he do that to you? You are the loveliest creature he's ever met, and you tell him you love him so much and don't understand what you did wrong. Maybe he can be patient one more time.
♡ You've been playing with the devil for so long that you might not even notice as the weights shift. When Azul starts standing you up for dates, when, suddenly, he's too busy. He's always on his phone when you two are together, not as interested in all your compliments anymore. It makes you antsy. What if he's slipping from your grasp? Once the usual things don't work anymore, what else can you do? You should have known that, in the end, Azul always gets what he wants. Even if you keep trying to get out of this deal, he'll be the one with the last laugh! And when he keeps feeding you the same treatment you gave him, you are slowly falling into his trap. Azul will remind you that he really is so generous, right? He loves you after all that happened between you two, you know that, right? Wouldn't you like to enjoy all you have when you're with him unconditionally? Azul will give you the world because he loves you. He won't kick you to the curb; he'll always be there. It's so easy! You just need to sign here.
Idia
♡ Poor Idia. People kept telling him you were too good for him and that someone like you would never fall for someone like him. But even so... how could he not gaze upon you lovingly, wishing you'd come to his room with him to play games and cuddle all day long, his arms around you while you two slept and a smile on both your faces when you fed each other snacks. Imagine the surprise when you finally acknowledged him—talked with him even! You were so interested in his games and wanted to try them, sitting in his room like he kept dreaming about. But this time, it was real, and your knees were brushing, and everything was so perfect. You two really like each other, and you encourage him to go out with you just as much as you spend time in his safe space, giving him the opportunity to love you.
♡ His heart was always meant to break, but did you have to be so harsh? He simply didn't feel like going out with you that day. Idia doesn't really like your friends, and they don't like him. You keep saying you wished you could stay in with him, but your friends demanded to go out that night. It would be such a shame if you had to go alone, right? Also, why does he always have to pay? You know it is hard to say "no" when you make him seem like the most significant, most generous person in your life in front of everyone, kissing him and boasting about how amazing your boyfriend is. Because yes, he is your boyfriend. The word never loses its intended effect. You make him believe that every boyfriend has a duty to his partner to fulfill their wishes, and Idia follows it religiously. Until one day, he decides that enough is enough and that it is time for you two to do stuff he wants to do.
♡ It's hard to say what is worse: the arguing or the cold shoulder. You usually text him good morning and good night, so it hit him hard when you didn't let anything be heard for days. He caved after only one full day of this, apologizing and promising to make up for it, and immediately, he got the satisfaction of hearing from you again. You knew how to play him like a fiddle, and it worked!... but you underestimated Idia's obsession with you. And you believed him when he told you he had something special planned. You need to wear a blindfold, but you will not be disappointed. Maybe he's proposing, maybe he's gifting you a new car. Maybe there's a house waiting for you to live and decorate. Gosh, the possibilities!
♡ Don't be shocked when you remove the blindfold and find yourself locked in a cell. Look, Idia put up a gaming system and a huge shelf of the newest games to enjoy! Here, you can argue and scream as much as you want—no one will hear you. It's an underground prison, after all. Did you forget that this was his family business? You're such a jokester! As if he'd let you out just because you ask him nicely. Now you are his, and his alone. No one will find you here, and Idia gets to watch over you all day long! These cameras are the newest model, you know. Pretty fancy, eh? Idia does it because he loves you! You are so pretty, even with the despair on your face. He can't wait to spend the rest of his life with you, playing games and ditching responsibilities towards your friends. You only need each other, so just wait for him to come back. There's some more paperwork to declare you exceptionally dangerous, so there won't be anyone stupid enough to come close to what is his.
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thefanficmonster · 7 months ago
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Beautiful Things
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Benedict Bridgerton x Reader (Female)
Warnings: SPOILERS for Bridgerton S3 part 1, Minor Period-typical sexism
Genre: Romance, Rivals to Lovers, Fluff
Summary: They're both brilliant, and brilliantly stubborn. What a pair they'd make.
Benedict tends to thread through life without as much as a worried crease on his features. There are very few matters he doesn't take to lightheartedly. That being said, it came as quite the surprise the sharp current of uncertainty that ran down his spine when he found himself standing in front of the monstrosity of a building that is the Royal Academy of Arts on his first day in attendance.
It took him and his charm less than a week to woo and work his way through the crowd of ambitious up-and-coming artists. He's always been an easy person to converse and unwind with. That aura around him naturally draws people to him like a magnet. It is a miracle the man hasn't been hunted down by a debutant already.
Not for a lack of trying, of course. The young ladies of the ton, especially the ones who have been freshy introduced into society have had their sights set on him since he himself made his way into the rhythm of the ton.
Nothing's ever fulfilled him, though.
Being the child of a marriage filled with love that has extended long past the death of his late father, he holds love to a high standard. A standard no one has even come close to reaching.
Watching his siblings find that very sort of love his parents had is a bittersweet sight to observe. It leaves him filled with joy on the behalf of his beloved siblings and it gives him a sense of hope that eventually he too might find what they managed to obtain - not without obstacles, though.
On the other edge of the sword, however, is the never ceasing worry that the problem might be his. That his lack of seriousness bordering into blatant avoidance of the ladies of the ton is to blame for his unmarried status. Perhaps it may be his overly romanticized view of love which he'd like to believe isn't the case. He's seen love of that caliber blossom time and time again in his own home. There's no reason to believe that his turn won't eventually come.
That his standard won't eventually be reached.
Speaking of standards on a lighter note, this painting he's currently standing in front of is disappointing even his lowest requirements for a decent painting.
It is absolutely atrocious, he voices his distaste only briefly and only mentally, never one to voice such critique unless it is cushioned by a smile and a quick-to-follow lighthearted remark.
"It is absolutely atrocious." There is a sharp edge to the voice that does opt to voice the very same thought out loud with far less regard for the negative attention it might garner.
Turning his head to the side, Benedict can't help the smile that immediately tugs at the corners of his mouth.
There, a mere meter from him, stands the ever so cutthroat, no-nonsense, ambitious beast of a woman that is Miss Y/N L/N. A smile rarely grazes her features, her eyes are always icy with an emotion bordering into boredom and a stature that screams authority.
And bloody hell does Benedict enjoy himself in her company.
She is the only student in The Academy he hasn't yet swayed, nor does he believe that he ever will. There are too many walls around her for him to even attempt to start breaking them down. He believes he'll sooner die of old age than succeed in reaching whatever human emotions she might exhibit around people she doesn't dislike.
When it comes to expressing distaste, however, she's not at all hesitant to share it.
"Oh, show the piece some mercy, Miss L/N. It deserves the grace of at least a spec of your kindness." Apart from perfecting his art, one of Benedict's favorite hobbies these past seven months would most certainly be pulling on Y/N's strings. Although it hasn't helped him form anything close to a friendship with her, it has aided him on the mission to get to know her better despite her being a sealed envelope of a person.
"I unfortunately do not possess plenty of it, therefore I can not be generous with it." She barely spares him a look as she speaks. That has been the case for half a year with no progress.
Still, he's willing to weld at the wax until he can pluck and read the letter inside. It is, after all, the bare minimum. He'd at the very least like to make her time at The Academy slightly more enjoyable. Being the only woman in the arts department, she's been rather ostracized which is typically the best case scenario. On the far worse end of the spectrum are the manner-less and, quite frankly, brainless 'gentlemen' who vary from not being able to keep it in their trousers to putting down her and her art which far surpasses their own.
If only they had that aforementioned missing brain intact, they'd see they're not even a quarter of the artist Y/N is.
That is one of the few things Benedict does not shy away from proclaiming with his whole chest. Although well aware that Miss L/N can handle herself gracefully and sharply as always, he never misses an opportunity to put the filthy men in The Academy in their place.
"I believe you possess far more kindness than you let on. Though, I understand completely why you'd rather not show it. None of these lovely gentlemen are deserving of it." The inflection of his tone on those two specific words wins him a scoff from her tightly pressed together lips.
A small win. Baby steps.
"I hope you are factoring yourself in when you use general terms of such sort. I have no evidence you are any better than them." She says, subtly motioning to the crowd of self-titled art experts around the venue where their final works have been displayed for renowned artists to come and rate in precisely half an hour.
Benedict had recognized her painting the second he stepped foot in the ballroom like gallery of The Academy. Needless to say, it put the rest to shame. Even his own, he has no problem admitting that. The emotions relayed in the painting, each brushstroke, every color, every line - they pulled him in the second he laid eyes on it.
And no, he most certainly is not biased. He's a very objective man when it comes to art. It might be considered a conflict of interest, though, because to him she is art.
"Believe me, my lady, I would hate nothing more than to boast myself but I still do believe I stand out from this pleasant crowd. For, as I was told, mine was the only painting you gave a stellar review for."
Professor Hedingale, although a man in his late fifties with a rather intimidating exterior and a permanent frown etched into his forehead, is a major gossip. He has taken a great favor to Benedict for his warm nature and shared love of observing drama as it unfolds. That being said, it took him a total of three seconds before he informed his student of Miss L/N's surprising review. She had not given the other paintings as much as a second glance, opting to say nothing rather than tarnish them the way they honestly deserved.
Had he not been paying such close attention to each line of her face, he could've missed it. Luckily for him, he did not. That brief fleeting moment of surprise widening Y/N's did not manage to go by unnoticed.
"I have a very high standard for beauty and would never stoop so low as to give a biased and unjust review. If I find something abhorrent, I say so. If I find something beautiful, I'd never not compliment it the way it deserves." Benedict almost flinches when she turns to face him, establishing intense and quite entrancing eye contact. "I am not mean, Bridgerton. I am simply honest."
Words burn dry on his tongue, his breath dissipating in his lungs. Had she still not been facing him, he could have come up with a timely response. But something about her gaze being so focused on him has turned his brain to a pile of pebbles. Not a single thought is passing through his head other than a fact he's long established. In fact, he came to learn it the very first at The Academy. Every day since it has only been confirmed time and time again.
She's absolutely enamoring.
The moment dissolves with the loud bang of the grand doors to the gallery being pulled open, allowing in the crowd of world renowned artists that now hold the students' futures in their gloved hands.
Benedict is not surprised by the fact that all these critical artists are men. He's grateful no artist's name has been listed by the displayed paintings, otherwise Y/N would have no chance at winning their favor. Not objectively anyway. At least one would have undermined her because, although talented artists, that doesn't exclude them from being close-minded fools. And at least one would try to butter her up for a potential courtship.
Yeah, that's not happening
Upon getting a better look, he finds himself pleasantly surprised by a head of long blonde hair, undoubtedly belonging to a woman. A woman whose work he's become very familiar with knowing Y/N is quite an admirer of hers.
"Eleanor Easton." The name comes out almost breathlessly, barely getting past Y/N's lips.
Turning his attention back to her, he's rather shocked to see what the nerves have done to her. She's shaking like a leaf, all the confidence she typically exhibits has drained from her body into a puddle on the tiled floor.
"You should go talk to her, express your admiration for her work." It is more an attempt at vexing her than a suggestion but it's in no way bad advice. Even though Lady Eleanor doesn't look like she'd take kindly to the gesture, it would be a noble attempt.
"Are you mad?!" Y/N whisper-yells, her eyes wide in panic as she spreads open the hand-held fan she's carrying to provide a soft breeze to her extremely heated face. "I could never possibly do such a thing!"
"Why could you not? It w....oh, she's looking right at us....." Benedict has barely finished his sentence before he feels a gust of wind rush past him in a blur of sparkling fabric, lace and silk.
For a solid second or two, he's torn on what to do. Although his initial intention was to vex her, he's now worried she might actually be dissolving in a nervous frenzy and he can't let her tarnish months of work because of some jitters. He too would be a wreck of similar caliber if any of the artists he idolizes were to show up and he too would prefer someone snap him out of it.
So, he follows her out the wooden doors that lead to a maze of intertwined halls, the walls of which are immaculately hand painted. For a moment, he panics, worried he won't be able to find her on time in the chaos of intertwining hallways and painting rooms. But then, he remembers that he indeed knows her better than he thought.
He finds her exactly where he thought he would - standing in front of the wall painting he often finds her looking at in awe. She's never explicitly stated so, but he knows it's her favorite.
To say Y/N is not happy when she spots him would be an understatement, "Oh. for heaven's sake, can I not get a moment without you pestering me?"
He takes her words with an eye roll, "No. I am bringing you back in that gallery. You are going to stand tall and remain collected when they announce your painting to be the equivalent of the Diamond of the season. Do you understand?" He surprises himself with the tone of seriousness his voice has taken on.
See? He can be serious when he wants to be.
She lets out a frustrated sigh, vigorously waving the red fan in her hand in a pointless attempt to collect herself, "Bridgerton..." She closes her eyes for a second as to not spit everything she'd very much like to say. Still, she is a lady, though. "I am asking you to leave my sight in the next five seconds, for you are getting on my nerves."
With two long strides, Benedict minimizes the distance between them, passing the social boundary for respectful space and bordering onto a scandal if someone were to see them. He doesn't care, though. Most romances he's witnessed, if not all, began with a scandal.
Now it's his turn.
"Oh, is that so? Am I getting on your nerves, Y/N?"
"You're getting on my nerves, Benedict-" Her words come to a sharp end when he swipes the fan from her hand, halting the consistent motion. That seems to have been her last straw of composure, seeing as how the hand that formerly held said fan is now clenched in a tight fist and her eyes are squeezing shut. "You pesky, vex...-"
How rude of Benedict to interrupt the lady yet again, is it not? This time he does so by busying her lips with his own. He braced himself for a potential slap on the cheek before even leaning in but the impact never comes.
What he did not prepare himself for was her rather welcoming response, allowing herself to momentarily forget everything else and melt into the rhythm of the kiss. Melt into him. Her arms instinctively wrap around his neck while his hold her waist, fearful of her dissipating like a dream before his eyes.
It pains him that he has to end a moment of such culmination. A moment that the seven months they've known each other inevitably led to. However, they can always pick up this conversation later. For now, Y/N has credits to earn and a painting to be prized.
So, against his instincts, he pulls away.
"This isn't over." He says, his lungs catching up on minutes worth of air they didn't properly receive, "But for now, we have other matters at hand." With a tilt of his head, he motions down the hall - a clear insinuation.
With a similarly disappointed expression and an even more disappointed sigh, Y/N brings herself to nod. She reaches out to retrieve the fan from him which gives him the opportunity to sneak one more quick kiss just as a door opens further down the hall, rudely tearing them apart from one another.
Smacking him lightly with her fan, Miss L/N can't suppress the laugh that Benedict's smug prideful expression provoked from her. She accepts the arm he's offered her and allows him to lead her back the way they came from.
"What you said about beauty and how it should never go uncomplimented..."
"Yes?"
"Oh, nothing. I just wanted to say you're ravishing."
Another laugh breaks the illusion of her icy demeanor, "Why, thank you, Mister Bridgerton. Your painting was quite easy on the eyes as well. Professor Hedingale did not lie. I must say I'm impressed."
"Although I will accept the compliment, I'll have you know there's plenty you are yet to see. This is nothing. Prepare yourself to be truly impressed."
Giving his arm a subtle squeeze, she flashes him one last smile before they enter the gallery once more, "Doubtful."
That's the thing about rivalry, dear reader, it brings out the good, the bad and the beautiful.
The rest is best kept behind a close door, if you know what this author is alluding to.
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americankimchi · 10 months ago
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Do you have any tips for writing Obi Wan or any meta in mind with his characterizarion?
hmmm sure why not! i'll give a few tips on how i'd write obi-wan. mind you this is how i interpret the character, so ymmv.
i truly do not like it when fics have obi-wan voluntarily leaving the order. like it's so out-of-character for me in my head that the premise of the story + the writing would have to work triple-time to get me to stick around. now if he's been removed from it by an EXTERNAL SOURCE (not the order. i cannot stress this enough: the jedi kicking obi-wan out is so jarring to me i'll leave the fic in an instant) or somehow unable to return to the order for whatever reason, all is well.
not a prodigy, but a genius. obi-wan is an incredibly intelligent person with an absolutely staggering knowledge base in a wide variety of topics, but all that knowledge was earned through blood, sweat, tears, and time. he sat down with his game face on and put in the work. that's also why he makes an excellent teacher: he knows what most students will struggle with because he struggled too, and knows through experience how best to overcome them. i headcanon that it contributes to why he's such a good negotiator: he's really good at stripping down information to the essentials and communicating that information effectively and efficiently to others because of his intense study habits.
humble, but not ignorant of his skills. it's pretty impossible to fully divorce yourself from pride in your achievements, and i don't think it's healthy to not feel any pride at all, so i think obi-wan has a very clear understanding of his skillset and how best to use it. i don't think he'd be ignorant of how good he is at something, especially since the direct consequence of his aptitude led him to being a member of the jedi council. pretty hard to be blind to your strengths when you're being asked for your input on topics that directly draw from that knowledge.
averse to healthcare. listen i enjoy obi-wan whump just as much as the next obi-wan stan (the desire to put him in the cosmic salad spinner comes with the territory, i fear) but as a character who grew up in an environment that deeply cares for the well-being of all, and knowing that you cannot help others unless you yourself first have the ability to do so, i can't really see him ignoring injuries outside of combat scenarios. like on the battlefield he's got more pressing concerns than a pesky little shrapnel wound or five, but once the battle's over?? he might not be first in line to the medics but i can't see him avoiding them entirely. an army without a general is working at a sharp disadvantage and i don't think he'd risk his men by neglecting his physical health in that manner. note that i said 'physical'. make of that what you will :)
duty. obi-wan is the definition of a paladin. he takes an oath and by the force he's going to keep it. train the boy? absolutely, qui-gon. whether or not anakin chooses to respect that training is another matter, but he did definitively get knighted! refuse to kill anakin? listen he's handed vader his own ass to him twice post order 66 and each time he did it he did it nonlethally. that takes skill. that takes dedication. exile yourself to tatooine for 19 years and then decide fuck it, we ball, and die after Once Again Deciding Not To Kill Anakin Skywalker? step aside casper, there's a new friendly ghost in town. every time obi-wan commits to something the man COMMITS. you GOTTA respect that grind.
flirty but in the sense that he's going to match the energy someone brings to the table. like he's a negotiator. he knows how to read people and figure out the Vibes. if he thinks the other person will be 1) 100% receptive and 2) will respond with a delightful wit, why the hell not? obi-wan's highest stat is charisma and he's got expertise in persuasion. whether they're allies or not does not factor into this equation. he can have a little flirtation with morally dubious and potentially hostile characters. as a treat.
this has nothing to do with his character but i firmly believe that he and quinlan vos had at LEAST a fling when they were padawans. there is zero evidence to back this up aside from a few comics where they were being goofy teenagers together but i stand by this. it is an unshakeable aspect of obi-wan to me that has only gotten worse with the kenobi show.
no matter what, no matter how terrible or devastating or downright apocalyptic it gets, obi-wan kenobi will never fall to the dark side. never. it won't be easy, but that is a line he has never, and will never cross. i will not hear any "obi-wan touched the dark side during the theed generator fight" slander. if that was true tell me why the force theme was playing during his moment of triumph!!! Would John Williams Lie To Us Like That?? to our face?????
anyways i could go on forever about obi-wan because he is My Ultimate Blorbo but this post is getting super long so i'll leave it there. hope this helped even a little or at the very least was entertaining for you to read <3
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cfyslvr · 2 months ago
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General smut headcanons
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→ author's note: honestly I have no idea where this came from, I started a baji × reader fic but uhh.. I got bored of it :) my apologies I promise I'll finish it asap. honestly writing this was a little tricky for me bc I've never looked at chifuyu this way but I also had a few ideas and wanted to put them out there + I'm lacking when it comes to activity and headcanons are much easier to write than a whole ass fic so- here it is ^^ lmk if y'all want any other characters and I'll do my best to write them asap !!
→ warnings: smut, 18+, timeskip chifuyu (you'll never see me sexualizing by little blond baby), fem!reader, I would say minors pls don't interact but I know that y'all will read it anyway so 🤷🏻‍♀️ i wrote this in like 15 minutes so it might not be the best
Y'ALL idk why but my stupid ass tumblr won't let me put three pictures like I usually do 😭 I've been trying for like 10 minutes now and it won't work so just deal with the one picture (I'm gonna kms)
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- depending on when you two started dating, there's like a 90% percent chance you were his first.
- i feel like he would respect your decision on whether you want to wait till marriage or not, he's okay with either.
- i saw some people making headcanons that he used to watch porn as a teenager, but tbh he doesn't really seem like that type of person to me so I'll say he didn't do that.
- although he most definitely did see some interesting stuff from takemichi's gang and their nasty ass comics 💀
- i can also say that he probably has visited porn sites, not bc he's a porn addict or anything but bc he was genuinely curious (like most of us are).
- i also saw some people saying he'd be into one night stands, but once again I'd have to disagree
- to me personally, he seems like someone who would want to build a relationship with someone before engaging in something so intimate as sex.
- I also feel like he would wait for at least a year or maybe even longer to do it, especially if it's both of yours first times.
- as I said before, he has visited porn sites and saw makoto & yamagishi's 18+ comics, so I wouldn't say he's ENTIRELY clueless, but definitely not experienced
- that's okay, you can just teach him what to do if it's not your first time
- or even better, you can learn together!
- he may not be experienced, but WHEN I TELL YOU he's 100% a fast learner
- he's great with oral, like when he first dove into u you almost couldn't believe it's his first time !!
- when it comes to his length, I feel like he'd be a little bit smaller than the others, but that doesn't mean he can't make you see stars if you ask him to ^^
- he's VERY gentle at first, almost too gentle (if that's possible)
- I feel like that'd be because he's nervous, it's (most likely) his first time and he doesn't want to hurt his precious girl 😔
- once he's fully inside of you, it might take him more time to adjust than you 💀 buuut once he starts moving it's heaven
- would be very slow at first, you'd have to straight up tell him if you want it rough
- he usually takes intimacy very seriously and despite being inexperienced somehow manages to find the PERFECT center of rough and gentle to make you feel amazing!!
- he's into petnames, both giving and receiving them
- I feel like his petnames would be very sweet, some stuff like "angel", "honey", "love" etc.
- I can imagine him being a bit uncomfortable with degrading you, would avoid calling you "slut" or anything similar unless you're REALLY into it
- even if he doesn't like calling you degrading nicknames, I feel like he wouldn't mind being called those petnames when you're on top
- speaking of top, he's a major switch
- can rock your world if you ask him to, but can also whine like a needy baby when you're on top
- absolutely ADORES when you ride him
- I feel like he would let out whimpers and soft moans when you take control, might be a bit embarrassed about it so you'll have to reassure him that you enjoy hearing those precious sounds
- he's not good with dirty talk when he doesn't it intentionally, but I feel like he somehow manages to get you all riled out by accident when he just says what's on his mind
- he's more of a thigh or boob type of guy, but wouldn't touch you without your permission
- once you give him the go, he'll suck the shii out of your tits (it might be a bit harder to pull him off them)
- he's favorite positions are any of the more intimate ones, but I feel like he'd usually go for the classic missionary one
- he may not be able to last a million rounds, maybe three or four at best, but those 3-4 rounds are enough to have you feeling completely used, but also extremely satisfied
- puts your satisfaction before his own
- I honestly have a hard time thinking of his kinks 💀 I imagine him more on the vanilla side but I feel like he'd enjoy having his hair pulled and doing the same to you if you're comfortable with it
- also likes marking and biting
- he prefers being the one receiving the little bite marks and hickeys, although he LOVES seeing your neck and thighs covered in small purple and red spots 🫶🏻
- he also loves it when you give him head, but couldn't force you to do it if you're not into it
- he's the KING of aftercare
- he'll wash you, dress you up, make the bed all warm and cozy, bring you water, he'll even cook for you if you ask him to
- refuses to go to sleep until he's 110% sure you're satisfied and he thinks he's done a good job at making you feel loved afterwards
- loves cuddling and falling asleep together after a session
- honestly I don't imagine him having a very high sex drive, he can live perfectly fine without doing it often, sometimes you'll even have to do specific things in order to turn him on
- will buy lingerie for you only if you're comfortable with it
- i think he isn't the type to jerk off way too much, but it definitely does happen here and there
- the first time he jerked off with you in his mind, he was probably looking through photos of you that he took of you while letting out the smallest whimpers of your name
- will be extremely ashamed after it and would act like he committed 500+ war crimes when he finally admits it to you
- feels extremely relieved when you say you don't mind it
- idk about you but I'd ask him to send whimpering audios when he's at it 🤷🏻‍♀️ (I can't help it his voice is so attractive)
- overall a great lover, intimacy with him is amazing !!
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→ edit: y'all are nasty 😧 I legit posted this like a week or two ago and it got more likes than posts I made months ago wth (jkjk as long as I get likes) (jk again)
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queers-gambit · 9 months ago
Text
Damage Done
prompt: The Winter Soldier is activated and Bucky's lover is unlucky enough to be in proximity.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader
fandom masterlist: Marvel
word count: 5.4k+
note: oh, wow, Cherry wrote Bucky NOT in a Mafia AU?
warnings: takes place during Civil War, absolutely no plot - author just doesn't know how to shut the fuck up. cursing, violence, established relationship, small angst, injury, blood, hurt and comfort, Winter Soldier antics, choking, abrupt ending, maybe domestic violence? it's the WS.
it's really not that bad, it's not terribly descriptive but still tread carefully if triggered by these topics.
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"Keep them together," Agent Everett Ross commanded, a little man with a raging Napoleon Complex, gesturing at you and Bucky; the latter held in mobile, restrictive captivity. "He doesn't play nice if he doesn't see her, or so it's said," his eyes rolled.
"You're making a huge mistake!" You barked, struggling in the restraints they had you wrapped in.
"No, I don't think so," he sneered, approaching you as Bucky's unit kept moving. "I think the mistake was letting you out of anyone's sight. Tell me, how long have you been in cahoots with the Winter Soldier?"
"He's not the Winter Soldier anymore, you jackass, he's a person! A real, live human being! His name's James but he prefers Bucky! He likes plums," you were yanked away, still snarling, "his favorite color is blue, likes motorcycles, he has real guilt over his past transgressions, and you've got the wrong guy!"
"Oh, right, like you're the best judge of character," Ross laughed.
"Natasha! Nat! Fucking tell him!" You pleaded, struggling in the hold of the men who kept iron clad restraint on you and were starting to drag you away. "You've got the wrong guy! Bucky didn't do this! I wouldn't lie - not to you, Natasha! Tell him!"
"That's touching, really sweet," Ross mocked, rolling his eyes as you were finally overpowered and lead away.
"Hang on a second," Nat muttered, sharing a look with Tony. "Was her DNA or facial recognition anywhere at the UN? Anywhere near where the bomb was set off?"
"What's that matter - "
"Since they met, they've not parted ways," Nat spelled out. "He won't go anywhere without her - you, yourself, are keeping them together for interrogation - "
"It's just easier," Ross scoffed.
"No, you know..." She blinked in confusion, "You know, Bucky won't talk unless she's there - you know he'll be ten times as difficult if she's not in the room."
"So?"
"So, in the past two years, have you heard about him without her? Have you seen her without him?"
"Nobody's seen or heard from either of them," Ross shook his head.
"Exactly," she nodded, lungs tightening with nerves. "If you can't find evidence of her being in Vienna... Bucky might not be your guy... Besides, they're both trained to avoid cameras - "
"Mistakes are made," Ross waved off.
"Not by two highly trained assassins like them," she snapped. "Check the files, go back - look! Actually look, run her scans through facial recognition - if you don't find her, it wasn't Bucky."
"You're so sure?" Tony asked skeptically.
"I know her," Natasha nodded, "better than anyone. She's as good as my sister, she's as good as blood. I know her. I know she wouldn't run this risk - "
"Then you also know she wouldn't get caught," Ross laughed.
"Neither would Bucky."
The silence stretched, but Ross was stubborn; sneering at the Avengers and taking his leave with his own plan of action in mind. He left Tony and Natasha to deal with Sam and Steve as he went to observe the interrogation. When he got before the monitors, he watched as it took four different men to restrain you enough to hoist your locks up the wall until they were clicked in place by ultra-strength magnets.
You jostled, feeling the full extent of your containment, grunting when the pipe you were connected to shocked your entire system into submission. Everett Ross smirked at your pain; watching your tongue swipe over your teeth, arms high above your head, readjusting your weight in your feet, but otherwise, not moving.
Ross heard Bucky ask quietly, his eyes watching you carefully from inside the reinforced cell, "You okay, doll?"
"Looks like they learned from last time," you grit, the cuffs around your wrists electrified; charring your skin, making you grimace slightly in a veiled attempt to hide your pain from your lover.
"Don't fight, you'll make it worse," he advised softly, frowning, eyes glassy from restrained emotion.
"They could've at least put me in a bit more comfortable position," you sneered, glaring up at one of the cameras, shaking your head as if in disappointment.
"I don't think they want to play nice, sweetheart."
"Yeah, could've guessed that from when they arrested us," you shook your head, puckering your lips to gather the blood in your mouth; spitting it to the floor. "You good, baby?" You asked as the men who restrained you moved to plug in the power cell caging Bucky.
He nodded silently at you, bowing his head and letting his long locks curtain his face. You frowned, shifting again as you blindly felt your cuffs and designed a way to get free; watching the men stoically as they exited the room to make way for the psychologist. Your jaw clenched, the air smelling foul - alerting you that something wasn't quite right.
"Hello, Mr. Barnes," the accented man greeted casually, standing at a single table in front of Bucky, you off to the side; chains rattling as your defenses flared. The psychologist smirked and greeted you, too, assuring your real identity was known - something that Natasha released to the world about two years ago when HYDRA sent Bucky after Cap in DC. You didn't fault her, in fact, you respected her move, and after getting out of the blown-to-shit base, you had run into the Winter Soldier... Beginning your epic love story, both of you on the run from authorities and higher powers.
You smuggled Bucky out of the country, using fake aliases that had yet to see the light of day and therefor, wasn't released in the files Nat published during her takedown of the compromised S.H.I.E.L.D. agency. He was appreciative, pondering how he was meant to go forward in a world he didn't know; so, you agreed to stick around for a bit to help settle him, and that bit turned into a couple of years - the two of you inseparable.
There was an incident in London that almost exposed you, but instead, it just shined a light on your new partnership. Captain American, Nat, Sam, shit - even Tony Stark himself was unable to catch up; your trail going cold, Nat knowing your Widow training was running the show and keeping you safe. Granted, she probably could've unraveled the web you had weaved - but the truth was, she didn't want to. So, she kept quiet. Leading you all here...
"I've been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you both," the man you'd come to know as Helmut Zemo continued; playing his part very well, but not well enough to convince you of his innocence. Something about the man rubbed you the wrong way. "Do you mind if I sit?" He asked politely, feigning like you two had a choice. When he did, Zemo continued, "Your first name is James?"
He noted the way Bucky and you shared a look, both remaining silent. Zemo tried to assure, "I'm not here to judge you - either of you. I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?" Continued silence, your head subtly shaking - an act only Bucky clocked. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me, James."
"My name is Bucky," he croaked, your sigh echoing around the room.
"Hm," Zemo nodded, "I take it, she doesn't want you to talk?"
"She wants me safe," Bucky answered stiffly.
"That is admirable," the psychologist offered kindly, "a great display of love, is it not?"
"Jesus Christ," you shook your head, offering a glare, "you went through all that schooling to ask stupid fucking questions? Might wanna get your money back."
Zemo chuckled after humming, "I am merely trying to establish the connection you two share. I hear it is rare to find one without the other, that you two have become, uh, joined at the hip?"
"I protect her," Bucky offered, sharing a long look with you, "and she protects me."
"An equal partnership, would you say?"
"Yes."
"Buck," you warned, wrists twisting to hold the cuffs; being zapped, making your jaw clench and the veins in your neck to bulge.
"It's all right," his voice sounded like it was being put through a grater. "We're caught, doll, it's all right."
You huffed, eyeing Zemo as his eyes flickered between you two. He nodded, making a note in his little book, "I was warned that you would be unwilling to cooperate without her present. Why is that?"
"She keeps me safe."
Zemo hummed, "So you've said, and yet... Here you both are..." You were ready to lash out, but the doctor changed course, "Tell me, Bucky. You've seen a great deal, haven't you?"
"I don't wanna talk about it." Your restraints zapped you again when you jolted forward as if to physically silence Zemo, Bucky's head snapping over and his eyes drooping in sympathy. "Told you not to move, it'll only get worse," he told you softly.
"He's asking questions that will get him killed," you snarled, gritting your teeth as the electric currents seized most of your energy. But it was worth it, finding a little weak spot and letting your mind devise a specific plan.
"You fear," Zemo continued, "that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. I feel it is safe to assume, uh, your lady is privy to your past experiences? Perhaps, you two have shared a couple?"
"Just leave her out of this," Bucky pleaded.
"Don't worry," he assured you both, tapping something on his tablet before looking back at Bucky with a sick recognition. "We only have to talk about one. One mission... That I know you," he nodded at you, "were not present for."
"Kinda game you playin', Doc?" You sneered. "Think anything he says will change my opinion about him?"
"No, no, I know your relationship is too strong for that," Zemo smiled. "So, it's not so much what he will say... But what he will do..."
"The fuck does that - "
But then, the lights went out; darkening the room save for the lights individual to Bucky's holding cell. You perked up, the electric currents halting as the cuffs died with the power and gave you an opportunity to begin working on your escape. As red panic lights flickered, Bucky questioned, "What the hell is this?"
"Why don't we discuss your home?" Zemo offered. "Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn, no," he reached into his satchel, revealing a red notebook the world thought long lost... Buried in snow... Forgotten in time. "I mean, your real home," Zemo removed his glasses as you frantically started working.
"No, no, no, no, no, hey, hey, hey, don't - fuck!" You grit, trying harder to free yourself. "Bucky - Bucky, don't listen - ah, Goddamnit!"
The man you now understood to be a fake psychologist stood with a little flashlight, opening the red notebook, and began repeating words in Russian that would activate the decommissioned Winter Soldier. Bucky had told you all about these words, begging you to provide a shield against them should they ever be uttered again; but you had prior knowledge, the Winter Soldier someone you had been debriefed on during your time with other secret agencies.
"Longing."
"No," Bucky whispered, head tilting back in panic as he felt his stomach curl in a familiar pattern.
"Bucky - don't fucking listen, please!" You begged, still working to free yourself.
"Rusted."
"Stop," Bucky pleaded, sounding in pain.
"Don't do this!" You pleaded to Zemo. "You're fucking hurting him, please, stop!"
"Seventeen."
"Stop!" Bucky barked, his vibranium hand clenching in anger and pain; the entire arm whirring from the flex of his muscle. He began to pant, a deep growl emitting above your panicked whimpers.
"Daybreak!"
"You have no idea what you're doing!" You raged, Bucky screaming in pain as his mind was forcibly sunk back into dark recesses of his past. "Don't - Bucky, baby, listen to me - don't fucking listen to him, please, please, baby, don't do this!"
He screamed, breaking free of the iron restraints that kept him seated in the reinforced, mobile cell. "Furnace!" Zemo continued, ignoring the pain and panic you and Bucky were both thrown into.
"Fucking stop, please! You don't understand!" You begged, freeing one hand and working in vain to unlatch the other. Bucky was out of his seat, anger coursing like a palpable rain over you all - him screaming as his metal arm worked to pound into the strengthened glass surrounding him.
"Nine!"
"Bucky, please, baby, please, don't do this!" You tried a new tactic, hoping you were enough to cut through the brainwashing - but how silly to imagine. Decades of trauma was washing over Bucky again and your little words couldn't cut through the barricades of his mind.
"Benign!"
"You stupid fucking little man!"
Zemo rounded around the cell, Bucky still pounding away at the glass. "Homecoming! One!"
"DON'T!"
"Freight car!"
You whimpered in fear when Bucky punched the entire door off the hinges, freeing him at last; but the words were spoken, the damage done. He crouched on the floor, Zemo pausing to take in the sight, slowly approaching Bucky as he stood upright; the jangling of your chains louder and more frantic as you tried to free your last wrist.
"Jesus Christ," you whispered, trying to divide focus between the two tasks of freeing yourself and protecting Bucky - but being terribly unsuccessful as you watched Zemo stand in front of your dead-eyed boyfriend.
What a ridiculous, mundane label to assign someone like Bucky.
In Russian, Zemo questioned, "Soldier?"
And in Russian, the man you loved answered, "Ready to comply."
Zemo demanded in English, "Mission report. December 16, 1991."
You whimpered in fear, listening to Bucky give the report that would haunt you for years to come. Just as he finished, you managed to get out of the cuffs, but the clanging of your freed restraints caught Zemo's attention - who smirked with abundant cruelty. "Don't," you warned, backing out of the room just as officers began to flood it.
It was a brutal fight, trying to stave off Bucky once in his Winter Soldier mindset. You grunted as he engaged you, men dead at your feet - the lucky ones just knocked out. You grit your teeth, trying to defend yourself as Bucky operated mechanically; doing what you could to protect yourself, but it wasn't enough.
Blows landed, punching and kicking one another in an equal match of strength and stamina.
"Seize her," Zemo demanded, and in the next moment, Bucky had you by the neck; an effort that made you wheeze and claw at his bionic hand.
"Bucky," you begged. "Baby - baby - it's me, it's me, please, don't, it's me! Don't do this, baby, please, come back to me. Come back!" You struggled in his grip, trying to pry his hand open, "Baby, please, please, come back to me," spit drooled from your lips as he squeezed tighter. "This isn't you!" You managed to squeeze out, tears surfacing. "Not anymore, don't let them win!"
"Shut her up, Solider," Zemo commanded in Russian, your eyes widening and trying to beg Bucky again before he was sending you into a wall. He marched up to you, grabbing your hair, and surging his balled up metal fist directly into the bridge of your nose, breaking it, head jolting backwards, and effectively knocking you out.
When you came back into consciousness, it was to Steve's worried face; his hands caressing your cheeks and begging, "You all right?"
"Fucking hell," you winced, reaching up to prod the tender spot on your head; revealing blood.
"Got your ass kicked, huh?" He frowned.
"Watch your language, Cap," you smirked, wincing when your face throbbed. "Shit, how bad is it?"
He looked you over, offering, "Definitely a broken nose."
"Goddamnit - where is he? Where's Bucky?"
"Help me," a voice pleaded from the next room, Zemo playing his part by splaying out on the floor like bait.
"Don't trust him, something ain't right about him, Steve," you whispered, waving him on as you sluggishly hoisted yourself up the wall to lean against it. "Kept asking about Siberia, asking about shit nobody should actually know."
"Get yourself safe," Steve told you swiftly, nodding at Sam; who was checking on the status of the other bodies around you.
"Just find him, Steve, he's lost in his own mind - a threat to himself," you panted, slowly standing.
"I know - "
"You don't know," you shook your head, wiping a trickle of blood from your temple, "but you're gonna have to do more than understand him right now, Steve."
"I've got this," he promised, watching you nod and limp away. You had just missed the action, Bucky overpowering both Sam and Steve; getting to a safety landing and running into Natasha, Tony, and Agent Sharon Carter.
"We'll hash our bullshit out later," you panted, "but for now - "
You heard a commotion behind you, flinching out of sight when Bucky made himself known and began taking down rogue agents unlucky enough to stand before the Winter Soldier.
"He have an off switch?" Nat asked.
"Not that I've found," you frowned. "Split up."
Tony tried to engage Bucky first, using a mobile Iron Man device he wore on his wrist that used sonics to disorient Bucky. It only worked to a small extent, the two exchanging a few blows, Bucky firing a bullet at Tony's face at pointblank range that was saved by his technologically advanced glasses. Bucky got the upper hand, sending Tony flying back, letting Sharon and Nat attack.
He disposed of them both easily, stumbling when you caught him off guard and wrapped your legs around him. Normally, you'd do anything to have your legs around him - but this wasn't one of those times. You exchanged several punches, blocking one another, going for disarming hits but being of equal challenge; leaving small cuts and blooming bruises on each other as if to prove the engagement. Natasha rejoined the fight, two Widows showing Bucky up on a few instances, but he was heaving her across the room as you swung onto his shoulders in an impressive acrobatic move.
You heaved your fists down in a repeated fashion on the top of his head, Bucky charging at one of the cafe tables; slamming you down and choking you again with his metal hand. Both your hands held his, legs up around his neck to try to keep him at a distance for relief on your windpipe.
Through a strangled breath, you managed, "You could at least recognize me!"
"Who said I don't?" He growled, reaching out to snap a piece of wood from a chair.
You tried to regain normal breath, wheezing, "This isn't you, baby, you are not this person anymore - you're not a psychotic, robot killer! You're a man - please!"
"You don't know a damn thing about me," he seethed.
"I know everything about you," you strangled, "and I know this isn't you. Come back to me, baby, please! Y-You can't let the demons win, Buck, please - fucking listen to me!" But he only raised the wooden shaft above his head. "BUCKY, DON'T!"
"Who the hell is Bucky?"
You cried out shrilly when he jabbed the sharp wood into your shoulder, staking you to the table just as King T'Challa rushed onto the scene and stole your brainwashed boyfriend's attention. You hissed in pain, trying to yank the wood free but being unsuccessful; resulting in blood to splatter onto the tiled floor.
Hearing someone pant your name, you caught a glimpse of red and knew it was Nat, her face worried over yours a moment later. "Where's Bucky?" You coughed and winced in pain.
"Goin' up by the looks of it," she informed, "now hang on, this is gonna hurt. Want a belt to bite?"
"No, just do it, get it done, please," you panted, bracing yourself, and suddenly, without warning, your companion heaved the piercing shaft free from your flesh. Naturally, you cried out, groaning and clenching your jaw so tight, it nearly crushed your teeth into dust.
"Hey, you seen..." Sam arrived on scene, taking in your injury, "Holy shit, you good?"
"Yeah," you grunted, stumbling to your feet as blood bloomed into a bigger, brighter blemish on your tactical shirt. "We gotta go, Sam, we should get outta here."
"Hang on," Nat paused you two, your opposite hand holding your wound; her hands occupied by a smart device, "looks like Bucky tried to highjack a helicopter. Steve stopped him, but it resulted in them all crashing in the river."
"Shit," Sam breathed. "We gotta go find them."
"We need to get outta here, you know, away from the cops and agents," your head shook. "Get somewhere safe, away from this catastrophe. We'll regroup with Steve."
"Go," Nat permitted, "I won't say a word."
"You're one of a kind, Nat," you praised, pecking her cheek. "Let's go, Sam. And grab that First Aid kit," you pointed to the wall where the white box was mounted. He agreed and you lead the way out of the facility.
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Bucky groaned as he woke up, head lulling back before realizing he couldn't move his metal arm; finding it clamped in industrial weights. Sam called you both to attention, but while Steve jogged over, you remained in your place out of sheer distress.
You only vaguely listened to the conversation, hands trembling as your shoulder was bandaged to prevent further injury or infection. You did what you could to patch up any injury, and when you heard your name, you dialed in; Bucky asking, "Where is she? Is she okay?"
"You don't remember?" Sam sneered.
"No..."
"You stabbed her," the Falcon growled.
"What? N-No, I-I-I couldn't've - I wouldn't!"
"You did," Steve confirmed, pity coloring his words. "Punched her out pretty well, choked her, too. Broke her nose..."
"Please - Steve, please, tell me I didn't."
"I'm sorry, Buck."
"That why she's not here? She's in a hospital?"
"Actually, no," Sam trailed, "she's just in the other room."
"She didn't want to come here?"
Steve sighed as Sam informed, "Don't think she wants to see you right now, man."
"I didn't mean to hurt her."
"We know," Steve swiftly promised, nodding his head. "She knows it, too, you just have to give her some time."
Bucky looked utterly defeated, murmuring, "I scared her. Oh, my God, I scared her..."
"Gotta agree with you there."
"Sam," Steve reprimanded. "Look, Buck, she'll come around."
You waited until the two men left Bucky alone to regroup and stratify a new course of action. Slowly and almost sheepishly, you entered where Bucky was being kept, steps silent but he heard you anyways. His blue eyes flashed in concern as he met your gaze, mouth opening and closing as if words failed him.
"Doll," he finally breathed, "a-are you all right?"
"I'm okay."
"Don't bullshit me, how hard did I hit you? Steve said I broke your nose, I-I'm so sorry, doll, please believe me. What'd I do to your shoulder? Is that where I stabbed you?"
"Buck," you sighed, slowly squatting in front of him, "I need you to take a breath and know that I understand you were not in your right state of mind. You were forcibly triggered and sent back into that way of thinking, I know it wasn't you."
"I still hurt you, I still did it."
"Did you, though?" Your head cocked, eyes narrowing slightly, "Because I know my Bucky wouldn't hurt me, would never dare lay a hand on me - but the Winter Solider is a different story. You didn't do this, Buck, you weren't you."
"I can smell the fear on you."
"Well, yeah, it fuckin' scared me. I tried to stop that fake doctor, I tried to help, tried to save you and keep your safe. I'm sorry I was too slow, that I failed."
"You didn't fail anything, sweetheart... I-I failed you, I broke my promise to never hurt you."
"No, you didn't. The Winter Solider did all that, not my Bucky."
He frowned, repeating to ask softly, "Your Bucky?"
"My Bucky - the kind, charismatic, impossibly stubborn, kind hearted man I've loved the past couple of years who always gives me the crispiest fries, who has nightmares, who loves me unconditionally despite what I, too, have done in my past. And you know what I was doing out there while Sam and Steve talked to you?"
"What's that, doll?"
"Understanding that loving someone means loving their flaws, accepting them exactly as they are. So, while, yes, the Winter Solider scares the fuck outta me, he's still part of you and I can't authentically love you if I reject the Soldier."
His head shook "Your kindness is wasted on me."
"I think you should let me decide what's a waste and what's not when it comes to my own energy and emotion."
"I'm just gonna end up hurting you again. You're better off without me, baby, you and I both know you're better off keeping your distance. You should get out now while you still can."
"Not gonna happen. 'Cause you know what else I realized?" You reached up to caress his cheek, "I trust you beyond reasonable doubt, I trust you even if I'm afraid of the Winter Solider. I should've been faster, I should've helped you more, but I was powerless against that red notebook."
"You and I, both..."
You pet the cheek you were holding. "Buck, I know it was scary, I know how it must've felt being forced back into that mindset, but I want you to know that I'm in this for the long haul - you're not gonna scare me off. Because I love you, Bucky, and every single part of you - whether choking me out or not. Whether I earn a broken nose or not."
"I'm so sorry. I-I can't believe I did that, I'm so sorry, I hate that I hurt you. I'm so sorry, baby, I can't - I can't even put it in words how much I regret putting you in that position."
You smirked, "See? The Winter Soldier has no remorse, but my Bucky does." You gingerly reached out to curl his hair behind his ear. "My Bucky apologizes and takes accountability. There's no reason to not love that man - especially when he deserves it so much. Hey? Hear me? You deserve to be loved, too, Buck."
"And you deserve a man who doesn't run the risk of being turned into a psycho killing machine over a few measly words."
"I deserve to love my best friend, so let me do that. Say whatever you want, try to push me away - but I'm like a boomerang, baby, I'll just come right back."
"What kinda man puts his best girl in that kinda position? Who hurts the most important person in his life?"
"A man who endured decades of abuse," you laid your hands on either of his thighs, "a man who wasn't allowed control of his own mind. I can't - no, no, I won't fault you for that, Buck. Today wasn't your fault and I'll remind you of that as often as it takes. Don't you dare feel guilty because you didn't do this to me, okay? You didn't put me in any position - that fake fucking doctor did this, Agent Ross did this, special ops put us here. You, my sweet boy, didn't do anything to be at fault. You were trapped, but look at you now - freed, level headed, talking to me."
His eyes gleamed with a sheen of emotion, staring at the bloodied bandage wrapping your shoulder wound before his eyes danced over the bruising and other aftermath of your injuries. "I could've killed you," he muttered, tears filling his eyes.
"But you didn't - and surprisingly, neither did the Winter Soldier. Maybe there was a part of you still alive, wanting to refuse orders and not actually hurt me."
"Perhaps," he frowned. "I'm still so sorry, doll, I hate that I did this to you. It never should've happened."
Your head nodded, "I know, baby, and listen - I forgive you. Yeah? Hear me? I forgive you, this is in the past."
"Are you sure about me? You sure you wanna do this? Knowing I could flip a switch and hurt you - maybe even worse than today?"
"I'm sure about you, Buck," you agreed. "I don't wanna be without you, so, sign me up for whatever's to come."
"You might regret that."
"The only thing I could ever regret is abandoning you. I don't want to do this without you - I love our life together. In any world, in any lifetime, I'd still choose you. There's nothing that would make me regret you - regret being with you."
"You sure? I don't want to make you do anything out of your comfort."
"I love you, Bucky, yes, I'm sure. No matter what damage you think you might've caused, whatever damage has been done, I promise, that's not the truth. There's nothing about you that I could regret."
"Well, all that's left now is to get to Siberia, stop the other Winter Soldiers."
"And figure out a way to free your mind once and for all... It's what you deserve," you told him softly, rocking to your knees to meet his forehead with yours and caressing his cheek again. When you heard approaching footsteps, you sighed and pulled away from him to stand and turn, spying Sam and Steve. "C'mon, Cap, get him outta this. He's not gonna attack anyone," you requested, gesturing where your boyfriend was trapped.
"You sure?" Sam asked stiffly. "He did a real number on you alone. Not to mention all the other agents and cops he took out back there."
"He's good," you snapped, perking your brows at Steve, "and you two would do well not to throw what happened in his face, it wasn't his fault. So c'mon, free him, he's not a wild animal."
Steve agreed and lifted the machinery from Bucky's prosthetic, him instantly snatching it back and massaging where the joint met metal. Bucky stood with a set stare at Sam and Steve, as if anticipating them to lunge at him. His throat constricted, swelled with emotion when you stepped in front of him - posing barrier between the two Avengers and himself.
"You still got that phone on you?" Steve asked you softly.
"I do."
"Is it still unregistered?"
"You know it is. Who're we calling?"
"Reinforcements. We're gonna need help now that the Avengers will be looking for us. We gotta get to Siberia."
"Here," you agreed, unlocking the device and handing it over. "Who's first on your list?"
"Any Avenger who didn't sign the Sokovia Accords."
When he walked away with Sam again, you turned to face your lover directly; staring into swirling storms of baby blues. "You still with me?" You asked softly, reaching up to caress his hair again to push it behind his ear.
"Always. Got my six?"
"You know I do, baby," you smirked, stepping into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. "We'll figure this out, together."
"Together," he agreed, sighing deeply and returning your embrace tightly. His flesh hand rose to hold the back of your head, bringing his lips down to lay a chaste kiss on the top of your head. His voice rattled quietly, "Thank you..."
"Hmm? For what, handsome?"
"Believing in me. It's nice to think we can end this torment."
You smiled up at him, "You deserve freedom, Bucky, and to live without this haunting fear."
"I don't know about 'deserving' it, sweetheart. Done a lot of things that would argue against that."
"Maybe against the Winter Soldier, but Bucky deserves the world. Deserves kindness, accommodation, love and understanding. Now," you smirked and sniffled, giving his waist another squeeze before releasing and pulling back, "get your head outta this pit and focus, we've got a long day ahead of us."
He agreed, letting you take his hand and lace fleshy fingers together in a tether. Sam's face remained stoic and passive, but when Steve saw you two, he couldn't help but smile. Two years he hunted for Bucky and just today, he's learned his best friend's been shacked up with you - a warmth blooming in his chest over the idea of you two finding one another and loving each other.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Marvel masterlist
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lalunanymph · 1 year ago
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your stepbrother just can't resist you anymore — itoshi. r
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flirty!reader, pining rin, heavy stepcest sorz, conflicted emotions, forced orgasms, almost getting caught by parents trope, humiliation, dirty talk, pro-player!rin, rin is 22/ reader is 21, i wrote this completely blasted and came twice to it i fear
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Rin never thought he would take this too far. 
He was known to be meticulous, and calculative—a man made out of stone. On the field, off of it.
Fans chanted his name, and newspapers exalted him as the latest football legend. But, it did not change the grinding tension he felt whenever his reflection shone back his dark eyebags and pinched frown—a symptom of overworking himself too much.
Through it all, however, Rin always prided himself on being a smart man. 
That is, until he met you. 
His new stepsister.
You fit every stereotype of a stepsister Rin had heard of from his horndog colleagues. 
Pretty, with a too wide smile. Eager and ready to be his friend. 
He hated to admit how those cheap, sleazy pornos Shidou would mass share in their group chat had a grain of truth in them. 
If they didn’t, he wouldn’t spend his entire time avoiding you, hoping you never noticed how the hairs at the back of his neck stood whenever you passed by smelling of vanilla and sin. He would try to at least give you a hug, not tense everytime you so much as brushed your arm against his. 
The idea of self-hatred was not a foreign concept to Rin.
He had spent countless hours comparing himself to Sae, wondering if he would ever reach the pinnacle of such greatness.
His destroyed ego had been remade too many times to count. And he was starting to suspect you would be his final undoing. 
“Rin-nii.” 
Your soft voice jolted him from his thoughts. He turned the TV down, trying not to let his stare linger on how the shadows from the dimmed blue light threw the curve of your collarbones into sharp focus. 
Both your parents were out of town for the weekend, and you had the house all to yourself. 
Rin lived on his own in a penthouse somewhere in downtown Tokyo, and he rarely came home unless his father called him to have dinner together with his new stepmother and stepsister. 
There was no reason why he should even be here on a Friday night in the first place. 
Plus, with Sae still in Spain, he had no one to turn to as a buffer, and the onus of suffering fell on him to return your unsure smile with a half-hearted nod.
“Do you want to have dinner?” you fiddled with your fingers, and he hoped to whatever deity above tasked with listening to his pathetic ass that you hadn’t noticed the heat dusting his cheeks. 
“Sure,” his voice came out steady, almost bored. Just the way he always sounded. 
Rin’s practised poker face was handy when he had to sit opposite of you, pretending to be absorbed in his plate of udon while you struck up sparse conversation here and there. You talked about work, your colleagues. Sometimes, you brought up your mom and how happy she was on holiday with his dad. 
His father had told him how you were raised by a single mother for your entire life and never really had a family to rely on. This would be the first time you had male figures in your life—and you never failed to express your gratitude at how easily they took you in.
“Ah, ka-san sent me some photos of the seashore,” you mumbled wistfully, picking your phone from the table and scrolling through your gallery with a fond smile on your face. “Isn’t it beautiful?” you shared the screen with him and he reached out to steady your hand, accidentally grazing your fingers. 
He pulled back slightly, mumbling an apology. 
“It’s fine,” you beamed, stowing your phone back into your pocket. “How’s practice?” 
This was the reason Rin absolutely hated you. 
How you could feel his touches but never responded to them.
Was he the only one cursed to feel his heart doubling in size whenever you so much as looked at him? 
Rin wished he could pull back your tall curtains to uncover the orbit of your thoughts—if they were even a millimetre close to colliding with the idea of him. The nuclear reaction was enough to get his mind reeling, and the tightness of his breath and the front of his shorts was enough to snap him back to reality.
“Fine,” he muttered curtly, standing up abruptly, the back of his chair hitting the wall.
You physically recoiled back, and for a second, there was a shadow that passed your pretty eyes, one which you quickly put out when he turned his searing gaze to you.
“Okay, Rin-nii,” you whispered, and your resignation crushed his soul. 
Nice going, Itoshi. 
You slipped on a smile, taking his plate to the sink before he could protest. He couldn’t tell that your hands were shaking, chest crumpled almost to your ribcage with the cold sting of rejection.
“You…” 
His soft voice rose above the clanging of your thoughts, and you stopped scrubbing. Turning to him, your raised brows spoke of honest intentions to hear him out. Unfortunately, Rin was unsure of what else to say, and you waited for your older brother to break the awkward ice. 
The parting between his two lips which revealed his white teeth, zig-zagged through your pulsing thoughts, goading you to crash into him. 
Your shoulders fell from your ears, and you stopped in mid-motion. Cold water ran down your wrists like tears from a crack in heaven, calling you back into the light. But, you ignored the righteous siren.
Those teal eyes, framed with thick lashes and desperation slowly inched up your bare thighs, right to the crease where your cotton shorts was caught in between an affair with your plush thigh and the enticing slope of your—
Rin flinched and spun on his heel, darting up the stairs as quickly as his toned legs could bring him. 
You watched after him, frozen in one spot, fighting the current of disbelief and disappointment threatening to tear you apart. 
The fleeting glimpse of warmth that ignited within the chambers of your lower belly was extinguished by the cold harsh truth: your step brother absolutely hated you. 
Swallowing hard, you turned back to your hands that were starting to prune from the water.
You switched off the tap, drawing your hands out of the sink basin and letting them fall to your side, breath coming out in stuttered puffs. Not caring how a tiny puddle was forming under both your arms. 
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Rin snapped back awake to the sound of thunder crashing above his ceiling.
Like the heavens were rioting against the sins plaguing his thoughts, he twisted to this side, trying hard to squeeze his eyes close and allow his mind to drift off. 
Another clap of thunder, and Rin swore he felt a cold draft brush his arm.
The bed dipped behind him, and he jumped, a strangled yelp escaping his throat, ready to fight off whoever dared to interrupt his sleep.
When the whites of your eyes shone in the half-darkness of his room, Rin calmed down enough to exhale noisily, fisting the sheets to still his rapidly beating heart.
“What are you…?” 
Rin trailed off, anger dying in the back of his throat when the shape of you adjusted in the dark. He first noticed the dip of your shoulders, bare under black spaghetti straps. Following the curve of your collarbone which led right into the trap of your cleavage, he couldn’t help caress your soft skin with his heated glance. 
“You can touch them.” 
He blinked, and the whites of your eyes suddenly became more vivid even as the night darkened. The shape of your mouth was coming into focus, his retinas gathering enough light in the pitch black room to illuminate the soft flesh-tone pillows he wanted to bite down on in his frustration. 
The owlish blinks and stuck silence was cut off when you reached for his hands, pulling them into your lap. Rin felt the heat of your thighs seep into his skin, and a low gasp spilled past his defences. 
Lucky Rin, the man who could score even in an unfair match, couldn’t believe if he was dreaming or not when you guided him to slide his palms up your thighs, your touch loose around his wrists. Your night dress hinged off your hips, and he briefly casted his glance to the darkened triangle in between your thighs. It fell back in place, hiding your most vulnerable part like a hasty curtain catching him right in the act.
But, when his larger palms encased your breasts, both of them curving nicely into the concave of his trembling grasp, your nightie’s betrayal was quickly forgotten. 
“Fuck,” Rin whispered despite himself. You were softer than he imagined. “Is this real?” 
It took him a second to realise he had asked that question out loud like a fucking loser. 
Your chest vibrated noiselessly with the buried sound of a laugh. “I can’t believe it either.” 
He flexed his wrists, wishing he could close his fists around such delicate flesh. His grip waned, and he felt like he should drop his hands before this got too weird, when you stopped him with a soft sigh. 
“You’re scared, aren’t you?” 
The shadow of disappointment in your tone, the way your syllables fell flat against your tongue like a limpid towel made a shiver of contempt flash hotly in his chest.  
Taking control over the voices screaming in his head, Rin firmly squeezed your tits, hearing your gasp of surprise and ecstasy rebound across the room. 
“Such a fucking eager slut.” 
Those words slid past the curlicues of his tongue with an ease of deadly poison, each word slowly bringing you up short.
“What—”
“Shut up,” Rin glowered, feeling the stiffness of your excitement between his fingertips as he twisted and tugged on your nipples through the sheer silk. “You seriously interrupted my sleep for this?” 
He yanked you closer to him, your body sprawling open like a chest of precious scrolls above his own. Your hair fell into your face, and your scalp’s sensitive skin cried out when he tugged it back with one hand, forcing you to reveal the truth. 
“Only little sluts try to seduce their nii-sans.” 
The harsh collision of his hot breath and the stinging slap of his palm on your ass made you come up short. Your cry was smothered by his tongue pillaging past the barriers of your mouth, forcing it wide open for him to devour the softness of your sudden shock. 
You barely kissed him back when Rin rolled you onto your front, pushing your face into his pillows. Something hard and insistent was pressing down on your thigh, and you shivered when you felt him reach in between your bodies to yank his shorts down. 
“Begging like a bitch in heat—I’ll show you what desperation truly looks like.” 
“Rin—hah!” 
Another hot slap landed on your skin, this time in between your upper thighs. It seared through your flimsy bleats and protests, crawling up your throat as strangled cries when you felt him shove his hands through the gap of your legs, cupping the heart of your desire right in his palm. 
Two thick fingers parted the wet seam of your folds, finding the flushed pearl which had the power to make you agree to any transgression. Those digits twisted it slightly in between their callous grab, flicking, rubbing and tapping on the fleshy dome with feral insistence. 
You cried out, and a large hand slammed over your open mouth. 
“Shut up,” he whispered, fervently, like he suddenly remembered that the walls have ears. “Our parents, they’re…”
Rin trailed off when the stony silence from his parents room down the hall finally hit him. Like someone had thrown cold water over his unbearably hot impatience, it dissolved into greasy pits of lust which opened up right to the darkness winking at him.
Begging him to choose her. 
“... not here.” 
“Yes,” you whispered, and Rin didn’t know if your shunting hips brushing his aching cock was intentional or not. “T-They’re on holiday, remember? We’re all alone.”
The way you said those last three words—the breathy rejoice of this simple truth—made Rin lean his entire weight into you, the warmth of his breath brushing the shell of your ear feeling like the world’s most beautiful electric shock. 
“Good. We don’t have to be quiet when I fuck you.” 
You were tossed onto your back with barely any grace, and Rin raked his hot stare down the planes of your body at the same time his veiny, outspread hands made their way down towards your hips. He pulled back the flimsy red hem which had so cruelly denied him the pleasurable view of your pussy, baring your glossy folds to him.
“Wet already, little sister? I would’ve never expected this from you.” 
He drove his thick fingers back to the sacred promise of your heat, using your own desire as a lube to take him right down to the knuckles. Your sharp squeal filled him with a masculine pride no goal ever could.
The feel of your warm walls, sucking him in and lovingly keeping him there like nobody had ever done in his whole life, made Rin feel like he could win 20 World Cups in a row. His nostrils flared and he curled his fingers in a seductive motion he once saw a pornstar do. Your arched back and tiny squeal almost made him smile.
“How long have you waited for this?” he whispered, loud enough in the quiet of your heaving breaths. “How long have you waited for me to fuck you?” 
“As long as you’ve waited,” your returning whisper, pushed through the scarlet haze his fingers were eliciting in your body, caught him off guard. 
“As I’ve waited?” 
You nodded sluggishly, half-lidded gaze heavy with emotion when you whispered:
“Since the first day I saw you.” 
Him, in a weathered jersey, coming back from practice while both your parents stood side by side, a cinder block about to explode his entire world while you were seated behind them—hidden from his sights. You were only twenty when you first met Itoshi Rin, but you knew you would love him for the rest of your life. 
“A year ago,” the ghost of his laugh in the crook of your neck made the patch of skin it caressed explode into tiny sparks. “I hated you the first time I saw you.”
As he spoke, he started to increase the speed of his fingers, using his thumb to put constant pressure on your aching clit. Sometimes, he would rub a few circles into it, drawing out your torment and causing your legs to jerk.
“R-Rin—”
“You reminded me of everything wrong about my parent’s marriage. You were my father’s failure right in front of me. I wanted to hate you so much.” His voice quavered, and his fingers stilled inside you. He pitched forward into your neck, covering his powerless side with a muffled sigh right into your throat.  
“But, I could never hate you.” 
Despite how wrong everything was, his words were right. Rin never hated you or your silly laugh or your insistence in making sure he was comfortable around you. Maybe he never hated you at all, just the upheaval in his life that followed along with you. 
He couldn’t blame you for that. It wasn’t your fault that your mother’s love had severe consequences on his upbringing. 
“Never?” you brought him back to the ground with your quaking question. 
“Hmm,” Rin hummed, in a half-answer to your longing. “We’ll see about that.” 
Those fingers were back to bring you towards the edge, ready to have you spilling out your deepest release and desires for him to taste on his tongue.
Rin curved one arm around you, holding you to his chest while his leg instinctively hooked around your thigh, drawing it right to his side and keeping you open to his plunging fingers. 
The hand protectively curved around your shoulders was the same one which pushed your neckline down, revealing your sumptuous breasts topped with heavy, hard nipples right into the chilly room air. 
He eyed how those nubs stiffened and perked under his watchful gaze. Rin couldn’t resist the temptation to pinch them around with his thumb and forefinger, relishing at how such a simple action could render you breathless and arching your back. 
Your hips swayed like a wave threatening to break over his entire wrist, while he skillfully rocked your world with timely strokes and tugs. 
The wet sounds coming from between your legs and spilling from your mouth painted an entire map of your release—the hitch in your breath, the gasping quiver of his name, your pitchy squeal which broke off into a pathetic whine. 
Rin let your body find her release from its shameful tether, those watchful, beautiful eyes never taking off from your undulating hips and flushed chest. 
While you were easing down from your high, he prised your legs apart, resting in between them and thumbing the raw, angry red head of his neglected cock. Your small fists crumpled around his white sleep shirt, the tilt in your waiting hips and the hungry look in your eyes undoing his patience. 
He fisted the base of his cock, giving it a few strokes. Rin was no amateur, but he wasn’t exactly as experienced as the other players. A truth he would take with him to his grave—his ego always needed to know that he was the best.
In your arms, you proved to him that he was worthy of your visceral reactions. 
You gasped out his name when you felt the tip breaching past your rippling walls. It was an exquisite stretch your toys or fingers could never give you.
Rin set a pace which had your tits jiggling freely with every heavy slam of his hips into yours. He hadn’t bothered to fully remove your nightie; something about how the hem was haphazardly draped across your thighs with the full reveal being where his cock was currently churning your insides, and the lewd way your breasts were revealed to his starving eyes from your hastily pulled down neckline, added a layer of wickedness to this already sinful affair. 
He devoured your flushed cheeks with a debauched sneer.
You turned your face away into the fluffy pillows to muffle your groans, but he pried it back to his impatient gaze. Wrapping a hand around your throat, he kept you pinned to one spot, held in place like how a prey would be frozen in fear from a starving predator’s gaze. 
“I’m fucking you so well, huh, Y/N?” his gritted scoff warmed your blood, making it sing in your ears. “You’re taking me like a champ.” 
“Stop,” you whispered harshly, tightening your hold on his loose shirt. “You’re being m-mean—” 
Your protests died as a choked moan when he wrenched your thighs off the bed and hitched them over his broad shoulders. Rin wrapped his arms around your legs, lifting them off slightly from the soft mattress with his sheer strength.
This position deepened his strokes, and coupled with your shaky circles on your clit, it had you right at the edge. 
“Rin… Rin-nii…”
The featherlight whisper of that honorific slammed into him like a tidal wave. 
Rin picked up the pace, the slick sounds coming from your pussy intoxicating him with everything about your presence; your airy moans, the glossy tears in your eyes, how you scrunched his shirt in your hold as if he would float away if you let go. 
You clawed at his chest, scrambling to grip his dark green locks and the back of his neck to draw him closer. Your legs were fully in the air, the deep rut of each sweet plunge in and out of your eager, twitching hole a shameful sign of your surrender to Rin. 
“Say it again,” he growled, the snarl on his face both terrifying and arousing. “Call me that again, little sister.” 
You wasted no time in succumbing to the darker instincts tainting the air tonight.
“Rin-nii… nii-san… please fuck me good…”
He grasped the doughy softness of your hips, sinking his nails into the welcoming flesh to take more and more until you were crying for him to stop. Rin was selfish with many things, and you were not the exception. He wanted to own your every sniffle, sob and moan. Every exhale of pleasure you released was consumed to feed his ego. 
You belonged to him and only him. 
That thought alone could’ve brought him to his knees, and it nearly made him lose control over his own body. 
The teasing darkness, beckoning him into her disastrous embrace, called out his name in a slurry, seductive moan which sounded awfully like your own voice.
“Rin-nii! I-I’m close!” your choked whimper made the red fog in his mind thicken. There was a finger hovering right over his trigger button, held back by his rapidly corrupted morals.
He couldn’t cum in you, you weren’t on any protection, he would get you knocked up, your parents would kick him out, he would be a disgrace—
“Rin-nii, inside,” you hiccuped, slipping your hand right onto your mound; using your index and middle finger to pry your nether lips further apart so he could see the glistening chokehold of your folds clinging around his cock. “I want you to cum inside.”
Those words barely left your spit-soaked lips when a well of warmth filled you right up to the brim. Rin’s guttural groan was primal, muffled into your shoulder. 
You welcomed his weight on top of you; pushing his cock deeper and pressing on a spot which had you seeing stars and releasing all over his twitching length. 
“Rin…” your soft gasp reverberated through his ringing ears. He shivered when you scratched his scalp, the pleasurable itch running down his spine. 
There was nothing else uttered between you two. Sleep came like a feathered down blanket over your consciousness, dragging you into the dark from the sound of his jagged breathing. 
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Your stepbrother was right in between your thighs, eating you out for breakfast. 
Rin and you had woken up in a mess of limbs and dried cum, and rather than forcing normalcy after a night where the biggest boundary was crossed, you both continued to fall deeper into each other’s trap. 
“Rin-nii…” 
He had only fucked you twice, and yet, Rin was already feeling a possessive need to keep filling you up if only to hear you airily breathing out his name. 
His tongue slid through your folds, sampling your flavour with the patience of a man starving for his next meal. 
Your back was pressed to the expensive marble counter, and your fingers were yanking on his locks. 
“Mhm!” your teary hitched breath made him throb right in his sleep pants. 
Rin played with your clit, using his tongue to flick the flushed pearl and sucking around the greasy bud until your legs shook around his ears. 
Your nails sank into the underside of the counter, and he didn’t have to glance up to know that your face was crumpled in pure ecstasy. He could sense it in your hips—how they swayed like poetry in motion, spelling out his name and claim on you.
He flattened his tongue to let you slide your soaked folds over it as you struggled to find sweet friction; risking a peek up at you through his lashes. Your head was thrown back, the morning sun haloing your hair. Rin had seen a few women in the pinnacle of their own pleasure, but never one as breathtaking as you. 
Your moans were strained around your need to remain quiet, even as both your parents were still on holiday. He noticed your hand moving to cover your mouth in his periphery, muffling your moans behind a wall of flesh. 
Rin grunted; he couldn’t let you get away with this.
He retracted the pink muscle of his tongue back into his mouth, kissing your clit as a sweet consolation to his change of mind.
“Let me hear you,” he ordered, observing how you pried your teary gaze from the ceiling to the man right in between your legs. 
“Rin-nii,” your broken whisper stirred none of his sympathies. 
“Our parents aren’t home, so let me hear you,” he kneaded your hip with one hand, swollen lips pulled into an uncharacteristic smirk. “Unless… you don’t want to cum as badly as I thought you wanted to?” 
Your breathing hiked, and you tightened your hold on his hair. 
“N-no… m’wanna cum around your tongue…”
He sucked your clit into his mouth, using his lips to massage and roll the tiny bud. Sadistically enjoying how you flinched and tossed your head back to cry out his name. 
“Then let the neighbors know who’s eating you out s’good,” he growled into your flushed folds. “Let them know who this pussy creams for.” 
His words hit you like a freight train.
Running you down the tracks straight into madness, you let Rin order you around, control your reactions with his straitlaced dominance and encouragement to let go for him. 
You gasped, preened, cried out and moaned his name, calling him Rin, Rin-nii, Rin-Rin… 
His name sounded gorgeous wrapped in lust—your lust.
The sound of a car on the driveway knocked you back to the ground in shock, and from your stance in the kitchen, you could look out the window onto the front porch. Your parents were stepping out of the car, a few hours early from their scheduled arrival, lugging suitcases and joking around.
They couldn’t see you from the kitchen window’s heavy tint, but they were just a few feet away. 
“Rin,” you tugged on his hair harshly, begging him to ease up. There was a puddle of spit and juices gathering on the floor, right above where his mouth was still insistently connected to your clit. “Rin, t-they’re here—”
Those large palms caged your hips to the corner of the island, holding you down so you couldn’t squirm away.
“R-Rin!” 
“Cum first,” he muttered roughly, licking up and down your seam to tease you from clit to hole. “Cum on my tongue first and then I’ll let you go.” 
“No!” you whisper-shrieked, thrashing about, trying to push him off you. He stubbornly held on, pinning you to the edge of the counter with one arm, easily pushing his free hand through your thighs and plunging two thick fingers into your well-teased pussy. 
You gasped out loud, back arching.
Footsteps echoed down the gravel walkway, getting closer.
“Rin—”
Your toes curled, and the room started to spin. It felt like your entire skin was covered with flames licking every inch of your body—the biggest ember burning right where Rin was insistently eating you out. 
Despite every nerve that was drenched in horror, the coil in your belly never stopped tightening, thrilled by the possibility of being discovered.
“Rin,” you were sobbing at this point, whether in fear or ecstasy, you had no idea. Your body was in a raging battle, your self-control razed to ashes.
“... wonder how Y/N and Rin are…”
Your parents were just right behind the door, their voices breaching through your foggy mind.
They were a few feet away from opening the huge mahogany slab and finding your older brother on his knees, pleasuring you. 
Dad would freak out first. After all, he had explicitly told Rin to be nice to you—but he hadn’t anticipated how well the younger Itoshi would treat you.
Your mother would cry. She would curse you out for ruining the first family you ever had. 
And Sae, your other brother… 
The thought of your older nii-san and the disdain shining in those detached teal eyes (so similar to Rin’s yet so different) if he was the one to stumble upon the both of you, was the final push your body needed.
Flames licked your entire body, the world falling off its hinges. You crumpled to the floor, in time for Rin to catch you, his fingers furiously pumping in and out of your drooling cunt, squeezing you dry from the pleasure. 
He was frantically lapping at your clit, drinking up your juices, more of them splattered onto the floor. 
“Fuck,” he cursed, kissing and tonguing your folds as you shuddered and creamed around him. “Fuck, so good, so good—”
The lock clicked, and the front door creaked open.
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The elder Itoshi found nothing amiss in his house when he stepped in, his new wife trailing behind with their luggage and souvenir bags. 
His teal gaze swept over the spacious kitchen, and the only sounds in the house came from the living room where light was spilling past the archway. Someone was watching TV. 
“Is Rin here?” his new wife asked, always excited to see one of his boys. He hummed, tossing his keys onto the console table and shrugging out from his jacket. 
“Beats me. He comes and goes when he pleases—”
“Tou-san?” 
Sanjiro paused, recognizing his son’s voice calling from down the hall. 
“Rin-Rin?” 
Both parents ambled towards the light source, rounding the corner to find Rin scrolling listlessly through the channels, still clad in his sleep shirt and pants with a cushion fitted snugly in his arms, nestled right on his lap.
He peeled his disinterested eyes from the screen to assess them. “How was your holiday?” 
Your mother spoke first. “It was great! The weather was so good. How has Y/N been? She mentioned you stopped over for dinner yesterday.” 
Rin’s expression barely changed, only a flicker of recollection behind those impassive eyes. “Oh. Yeah, I did. I stayed over in my old room—it was too late to drive. I hope neither of you minded,” he added as an afterthought.
His stepmother, always there to reassure that he was always welcomed in their new house, stepped into her hostess role. “Of course not! This house is as much yours as ours.” 
Never mind that this luxurious double-storey once belonged to his biological mother and father. 
Recognizing that his new wife might have overstepped with this careless slip, Sanjiro cleared his throat gruffly. “So, did you at least try to be nice to Y/N?”
Before Rin could reply, he was cut off by a chipper: “Yes, he was!”  
You drew all three of their attention, bouncing down the stairs with an effervescent grin plastered on your face. You were ready for the day, dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt, hair damp from a shower.
“Rin-nii and I watched some horror movies last night and he made fun of me the whole time, did you not, nii-san?” 
There was a crack in his son’s composure—a look of annoyance that made Sanjiro want to chastise him when Rin spoke up, surprising the older man who could faintly make out a teasing lilt in his boy’s tone.
Which was completely unusual to hear coming from his sullen, withdrawn son. 
“Hard not to when you can’t even handle a jumpscare… little sis.”
said i would never write stepcest yet here i am oopsie anyway every reblog and (nice) feedback helps us manifest our own rin-nii bless
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shotmrmiller · 11 months ago
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Hi toni pls bless us with more cbf!simon, very thirsty for some of that 🫣
cbf!simon hides you from the 141. nothing personal, but you're the only good thing in his life, and he does not want to share.
he kept you as his most precious secret until you called his phone at an hour which you should've been asleep, while he was walking out of a debrief.
simon immediately thought the worst and answered the call in a complete panic.
"where are you?" his voice thundered across the room, and then when you responded, he let out a relieved breath. "sweetheart, you—" simon rubbed the back of his head and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "please understand me when i say that you can't call me like this again unless it is an absolute emergency. understand?"
simon turns around and notices the guys staring at him bewildered, with wide eyes and gaping mouths.
fuckin' hell.
"alright. go to bed, i'll be home soon."
another sigh. "yeah, and i you."
none of the guys need to know just exactly what he meant by his last sentence.
or, they meet you when they're in need to lay low for a bit, and the only place he can think of is your home. it's quiet, a bit remote, and this way, simon could also keep you safe, just in case.
he tells the guys that where they are about to go, they take to their grave, or he'll put them in it himself. he will not allow you to be used as leverage against him. ever.
they figured out that you had to be someone deathly important to him, but to see the way his 'Ghost' persona was shed once he walked in through the door was something they had to see to believe.
he doted on his little love. everything that needed to be done, he was already on it before you even asked him to. simon always shielded your body with his whenever in front of any windows, and his voice was so quiet and soft-spoken when talking to you, that the guys wondered if they were dreaming all of this.
johnny asks simon if he's been drugged, only to end up having to duck his head to avoid simon's fist.
cbf!simon is great, and is totally fucking you as the guys listen in.
maybe even goes to the kitchen to get water and asks them if they enjoyed eavesdropping on them.
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kalims · 11 months ago
Note
Hi, there! :D
I don't know if my request will be taken into account but you mentioned that it's okay to try.
I am not throwin' away my shot >:D (sorry my indoor theater kid comes out from time to time)
Type: Headcanons
Reader: Neutral
Scenary: The NCR boys see that a student from Noble Bell College or RSA who has been trying to flirt with the prefect, in a bold move steals the prefect's (first) kiss. How would they react and what would they feel?
I feel like it would be a rollercoaster of occurrences and complete chaos in NCR xD
If my request does not convince you, you can discard it without problems, but if not, take your time and without pressure, thank you 💐🌼✨👍✍️I love your TWST fics they always make me smile .
whisk away
premise. despite your many efforts of evading your seeming admirer, they remain persistent in their pursuit. you've considered just leaving them in the dust without an explanation whatsoever but you're too stunned to process the fact that they've just kissed you without a warning. next thing you know there's a murderous aura approaching.
characters. silver, jade, deuce, kalim, vil
note. you didn't really specify which characters jhshs so I took the liberty of scouring your blog and just put the ones you seem to like ^^ and I kid you not, used a wheel for the other 2 lol (so sorry, was gonna post this earlier but got busy since presentations came up so I only finished now.)
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silver
has a mixture of shock and anger. which is mostly for your sake honestly, he wasn't gonna intervene cause he felt like you would wanna deal with it on your own so he feels the absolute mortification slipping into his bones. if he wasn't fully awake, then he definitely is now!
fully ready to talk some sense into that idiot who has no sense of space, hello?
last time he knew, you weren't really dating anyone. silver would know if you did, cause you both talk practically everyday and a lover would be something he should be aware of... unless you didn't talk? I mean, who else would just kiss you like that?
someone unpleasant. he decides. one look at your face and he knows immediately that it wasn't something you expected as well.
just pulls up with a rare look of anger directed to the student, brows furrowed, shoulders tense and all. everyone's used to the serene, calm look on his features so seeing him look so different probably put off said student so they scampered after a promise made by silver if they dared to stick around.
"leave, or find out what happens if you don't."
gone is the anger *poof* and is fretting over you now. are you okay? do you want him to knock some sense into that idiot? literally tell him anything, order him to do anything, and he'll do it (within reason) my guy is just here for your sake tbh.
kinda gloomy cause damn, that was your first? he wanted both of yours to be first and some grade a hole just decided to shatter all that. it makes him all the more irritated so if he can't have your first kiss, he'll just take your second, and every single other kiss you'll give.
jade
take the murderous aura and multiply it tenfold!!
jade doesn't really need to reach you and make his presence known by a few words cause it seems like everyone but you within 10 feet radius of him is sensing the murderous aura he's emitting. if it's not feeling that, then it's seeing the eery dark smile present on his face.
and he seems to be having a death march towards a specific direction so everybody knows where to avoid atleast. cause it seems like anyone on his path is gonna get trampled and no one likes a messy hall.
student in front of you pales, deluding themselves that maybe he's just heading somewhere behind them to vent out that rage or something but they glance behind and almost piss their pants when there is in fact, no one present near anywhere and he's getting closer.
so... they wanted to live so they just bolted out. an experience with one of the tweels won't be good news, and if jade is the one who has them in his sights... they'll take the head start thank you very much.
with the students face memorized and tucked into a corner of his mind he smiles almost innocently at you when you spot him and strike the most casual of conversation.
well, that's under the guise atleast. he's shooting you subtle questions about that person to which you reply innocently. oblivious to the grave you're digging for them yourself.
oddly enough jade started being strangely affectionate, a hand on the small of your back, maybe on your shoulder, arm, or a pat on your head as gratitude. but he seems to like kissing the back of your hand a lot...
*turns his head in their direction after kissing your hand*
deuce
I'll be perfectly honest. he doesn't really have much of an impact in terms of the intense aura that should have been felt. he looks a normal degree of angry, that's why the person hasn't gotten chased off even with the clear signs that deuce will be swinging a fist at probes.
unfortunate that's exactly what the person does. despite your clear reaction of disgust they still use you to rile up deuce. cooing at him while reaching for you, and chuckling about how they didn’t even know him, nor is it any of his business to interfere between two... lovers?
oh so they wanted to impact? they're gonna get one right now 👊 since it seems like they want to get to know him so bad they can get well acquainted with his fists, you know?
he made a promise to himself not to get involved with these type of mishaps! or at the very least resort to more peaceful methods than using violence as a sort of communication. the guilt eats him up a little but he thinks he'd never stand for someone who would disrespect you so blatantly!
almost comically, he looks like he spouts a pair of ears that of a dog's and turns to you. looking more apologetic compared to the fiery look he had a second ago, if he had a tail it would be tucked between his legs out of shame or something.
"I'm really sorry," he says. sulking. deuce apologizes to you, not for his choice of knocking out this random in the middle of the street but because of the fact that he did it in front of you. (also he's kinda jealous...)
if asked, he can, and WILL do it again.
don't blame him though! discreetly whisks you away to grab a bite. having literally no regards to the body looking like it's soul got knocked out laying, and looking out of place on the ground. maybe someone will check on them but definitely not him, they deserve it!
kalim
gasps loudly. "noooo!"
which is like a public proclamation that seeing that did everything but please him. which also means he's basically admitting he's jealous in an indirect way, might as well just say he likes you or something (he probably will if asked because he thinks it's nothing worthy of hiding.)
bounds up to you asking who that is quite loudly to the point where it would seem like he just stumbled upon you cheating on him. it doesn't help that he actually looks sad, teary and all. jamil is off, having paused in his trail since he was previously chasing the boy who ran off.
now he isn’t sure if he wants to get involved now. this is so embarrassing.
lowkey other student would just look back and forth to you, then to kalim. the latter in question unintentionally ignored his existence to be honest, since he was too busy shaking your shoulders and probing the answer of you.
"why would you kiss a stranger...?" he trails off, you did answer. kalim is genuinely wondering to himself if it was that easy cause damn, he scratches his head. that made no sense (says the guy who is making no sense.)
he makes it so obvious that he's pondering with the finger under his chin, eyes lost pointed at the air and the unnecessary loud humming... at this point the atmosphere became more awkward because you and the student is staring at him in bewilderment.
drag him off please, and explain it to him elsewhere. public is NOT a good place. so instead of him saving you out of a situation like this, you save him? talk about being built different...
vil
what in the sevens... he surely hopes his eyes are working correctly lest he needs contact lens, or glasses for that matter. either way he'll positively be as beautiful as he ever was.
although he's very pleased that someone notices the extent of your beauty, there are... other ways to express fondness admiration for you, and vil just can't respect someone who doesn't seem to have any shame for themselves for pressing on boundaries.
so this... fool clearly is a mere taint on your image!!! rid of them immediately! you needn't dirty your pretty mouth, rook does love cleansing the world of dirt like them so it's for the better good if they just never dare to appear to your face ever again.
what better way to hurt someone than aim for their pride? *trash talks so good about their attitude that they actually be pondering their life choices*
don't get him wrong. he doesn't like them, like at all. vil can full well do more damage by nit picking details about them they probably aren't even aware of but he'd never willingly give another person a reason to be insecure about themselves, even if they did terrible things.
plus, there's better ways to teach someone a lesson. they'll learn.
who wouldn’t be scared of an angry vil? they scampered away pretty quickly from a few words, even quicker when he mentioned rook but it's their problem to be paranoid whether the hunter is following them or not to be honest.
frets over you right after. living the dream.
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