#why must they always protect who they love with everything they have
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pixeltwix · 2 days ago
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{McGucket Family Tree}
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I did promise to extend my lore and story for Fiddleford just as I did for Emma May in this post, buuuut for today I’ll be doing a more general Fiddleford family post without diving into his life in depth (I swear I will get to it eventually though. Today will just be small details and their designs :P )
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The McGucket family definitely gives off ‘weirdo’ vibes. They’re a well known family in the town, but they always have a bizarre aura about them that sets them all apart from the rest
Bobbie Jean, his mother, and Arlo, his father, settled a bit later into a family than most others would in town, but their patient natures only brought about a very loving family
Blanche is the first born followed by Fiddleford some years after, but now you may ask, ‘why doesn’t anyone else have a goofy name?’
Per McGucket family tradition the first born son is always to have an unconventional or silly name, otherwise it’ll bring about bad luck. The McGuckets are very superstitious people after all!
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To play off the weirdo vibe and unconventional energy of the family though I feel all of the McGucket kids have something about them that keeps them apart from most others
Blanche isn’t interested in romance or relationships despite the towns folk gossiping and calling her a spinster for her age
Fiddleford is exceptionally smart and capable of things beyond average comprehension
Lenore is artsy, independent, and favors women over men. Thankfully her parents would never force her into a marriage and protect her at home
Darla is the sweetest kid you’ll ever meet, but her anxiety is 10x worse than Fidds, speech not easy for her even with her own family
Huck is the second born son, but definitely not a farm kid. He detests everything about it and has tried on many occasions to set the pigs free
And then Sally has zero filter, enough said on that. She wastes no punches verbally and struggles to make friends on account of it
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But then of course there’s the newest lady in the McGucket family, Emma May. I could talk for hours about her, but joining the family wasn’t exactly the smoothest transition for her
Growing up in a very unorthodox setting with cult influence she was unused to being welcomed into a home where kindness was given without strings attached
The McGuckets were more than happy to help her understand this though and even happier to learn about the woman who managed to steal their (usually socially inept) sons heart
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While poor as the McGucket family is I imagine their family home has been with them for generations. Naturally as the family grows so too must the house. I’d imagine their place looks a bit of a mess with all the steady added additions to the house and barn, but it’s all so chaotically organized and right it difficult to not be endeared
While the main house is packed and lovely most of everyone spends the majority of their day out working the land and taking care of the animals
Thankfully they are not alone as the family is quite extended and equally generous and kind
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There are plenty more men who have fallen victim to the silly name tradition that the McGuckets have, but the two closest in age to Fiddleford are the most relevant
Thistlebert and Diddsley were really his only friends aside from his siblings growing up, but really these two already felt like older brothers anyway
Thistlebert has an affinity for ‘saucer people’ always curious of alien life even if he doesn’t have the intellect of Fidds to understand it
Meanwhile Diddsley acts as more of the enthusiast for chaos. Always encouraging Fiddleford when they were kids to make the next big thing for them to wreak havoc with. Be that mini pig robots or tractors that can go over 80 mph, he was always the first to give suggestions
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Like I said, this will not be the post where I hyper focus on Fiddleford himself, but to conclude I’ll simply say- The McGucket family is literally so silly
Like they’re all very capable and hardworking people, but they will find time to be fun and enjoy their lives without being serious all of the time
In a way it helps them cope with the conditions of their lives and the struggles that they realize most likely will never go away
But despite that every generation becomes more and more optimistic, Fiddleford’s literal dream to be that he an make enough money to provide for his own family one day
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princeparadiso · 1 year ago
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Adios Bolas, I won't leave without her.
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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months ago
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How kny men treat their pregnant wife
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Pairings: Obanai x fem!reader; Rengoku x fem!reader; Sanemi x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,5k
Warnings: I went absolutely insane in Sanemi's part lmao, let me know what you think about maybe even more kny complilations in the future?🤍🫶
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Obanai – super overprotective
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„Darling, you really don’t have to be cautious all the time. I’m fine and it’s mid-day.”
“You never know”, the man next to you mumbles while positioning himself in front of you.
Since the day Obanai found out that you’re expecting your very first child, he never left your side. Not even at night, when he’s usually out fulfilling his duty as a hashira. And if he must go, he always makes sure that you’re not alone.
“I really don’t want to bother you, but Iguro-san sent me here to keep an eye open for you”, Mitsuri explained with reddened cheeks after appearing in front of your door at sunset.
You sign to yourself with a small smile crawling up your face. You never really realized that your husband is so eager to have a child. When the two of you first met, he acted so cold towards you that you were convinced he hated you after saving your life in your village back then. It wasn’t until he showed up at the butterfly estate on a random day and handed you a bouquet of flowers that you realized how hard you fell for that man yourself. Despite his cool and composed walls, despite always staying in the background and leaving disgracing comments from time to time. You really learned how to love the serpent hashira for the man he is: kind, loving, protective and smart.
“Why are you not coming over to cuddle me instead?”, you suggest oh so sweetly while opening your arms as an invitation.
Obanai side-eyes you up and down, his mind visibly racing behind those gorgeous eyes.
“But what if I hurt you and the baby?”, he mutters, still standing his ground.
“I’m not made of paper and the baby isn’t as well. And also, I’m carving nothing more than a hug from my husband at the moment.”
Slowly but surely, he finally turns around. As if you’re made of porcelain, he wraps his arms around you oh so gently. Have you ever seen your husband this cautious and sensitive around other human beings? You’ve seen the way he beats up the other corps members in his training sessions on a daily basis. A giggle escapes your lips before you’re able to stop it. Your man really turned soft due to this pregnancy.
“What’s so funny?”, he grumbles, his vibrant eyes set on you.
“You’re too hesitant to give me a real hug and yet, you’re beating up innocent kids during training. Come on now, I said I want a real hug!”
Before he’s able to protest, you press yourself against him with full force, allow your head to rest against his beating heart. It’s been ages since he last cuddled you the way you always loved it. With your body resting on top of his and your arms wrapped around his broad chest, everything starts to feel like home.
“Don’t you think that’s too dangerous? The baby-“
“The baby will be fine. I can handle a tight hug, darling. I really missed this…”
He shifts his weight underneath you and gently starts rubbing your back. Oh, how much you adore your husband and those sweet little moments between both of you. You never imagined to love someone like this, to fall head over heels for a man who is the complete opposite of yourself. But here you are, falling even harder day by day.
“And…you really think this is safe?”
“I’m absolutely sure it is!”
Obanai pauses for a moment, his eyes almost piercing through you.
“I think you should go and see Shinobu later”, he finally presses out.
“Come on, I already told you-“
“This doesn’t feel safe at all. We’re leaving in just a few minutes”, he continues while wrapping his arms around you.
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Rengoku – the proudest soon-to-be dad
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“I made you breakfast, my love!”, your husband announces while entering your shared bedroom in his plain white kimono.
“You’re way too kind, Kyojuro. You know I could have done it myself”, you reply while lifting yourself off the futon.
“Oh, let me help you up!”
Gently, he grabs your shoulders and helps you to get up. With your swollen belly, things aren’t as easy as they used to be. By now, you aren’t even able to see your feet anymore.
But it’s all worth it. He’s all worth it.
“Look at you”, he mutters with unusual low voice.
When his hand starts caressing your belly along with that loving gleam in his eyes, you almost forget how to breathe. From the day both of you found out that you are expecting a child, Kyojuro fell head over heels.
“You look so breathtakingly good, my everything. I could stand here and stare at you all day, little flame.”
It almost seems as if Kyojuro’s already heavy feelings doubled during your pregnancy. Not a single hour goes by without him telling you how gorgeous you look, that you are an angel walking on earth.
Even though you know you gained a few pounds and how swollen your face looks. He doesn’t care about the fact that sometimes, you are too exhausted to wash your hair or that you didn’t dress in something nice since your clothes started to get too tight.
Your husband adores each and every fiber of your being.
“Stop, you’re making me blush”, you giggle while playfully freeing yourself out of his strong arms.
“I’ll never stop telling my pregnant wife how gorgeous she looks! How are you feeling, my love?”
You find yourself trapped in his arms with his eyes all over you again. God, will you ever get tired of looking at him, of seeing those vibrant eyes?
“I’m okay. I just feel a little heavy.”
“I’m so proud of you for enduring all of this. Shinobu already told me this pregnancy doesn’t go easy on your body. You’re a real fighter, (y/n)!”
“A fighter? My body is supposed to do this. There’s nothing special about that”, you try to brush his praise off, cheeks already turning dark red.
“Don’t think about it that way. Your body might be equipped for a pregnancy, but Shinobu informed me about all the things you have to endure and how painful and tiring it can be-“
“Did Shinobu really explain all those things to you?”, you mutter through your hands that cover your face in sheer embarrassment.
“Of course! After all, I’m your husband and it’s my duty to support you in the best way possible!”, his beaming voice replies proudly.
“And I can’t wait to meet our little wonder.”
The second he gets on his knees, you see stars. Oh so gently, he pulls your kimono to the side and starts caressing and kissing your womb. Your knees threaten to fail you, feelings all over the place. God, you really don’t deserve a loving and caring husband like him, you don’t deserve all those feelings he holds for you and your unborn baby so openly.
Before you’re able to stop yourself, a violent sob escapes your lips.
“No love, why are you crying?”
Kyojuro meets you eye to eye in an instant, his hand carrying away every little tear that threatens to stain your face.
“It’s just…You are too kind…I don’t deserve your praise…”, you croak out.
“You deserve this and so much more. Now come on, I made you mochis with the receipt Kanroji taught me…”
You sniffle uncontrollably in his arms.
Wait, did he just say…
“You mean my favorite mochis?”, you mutter.
“Of course, little flame!”
“Oh…Then…Maybe we should get going, then…”
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Sanemi – doesn’t even know yet
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Fuck fuck fuck.
You stare at Shinobu in sheer horror. This can’t be true. Definitely a mistake. A cruel joke, maybe.
You…pregnant?
“Tell me you’re joking”, you mutter under your breath.
Just when you thought things between Sanemi and you started to get better, than you finally managed to live besides. Calling yourself his wife was never easy, especially due to the fact that he only married you because your family literally sold you to him in exchange for not killing you right on the spot. The two of you never seemed to get along that well.
You swallow hard. That night was an exception. You came home drunk, you didn’t know what you were doing when you seduced him, when you began babbling about something as stupid as feelings.
You swore to yourself that you’ll never fall for your husband. And now you’re expecting his child.
“I’d never joke about something like that, (y/n). It seems like somehow, you managed to get pregnant”, Shinobu replies in all seriousness while taking off her gloves.
Fuck.
“He’ll fucking kill me”, you mumble to yourself.
“Maybe he’ll skin me before that, slice open my belly like a fish-“
“Can you just stop?”, Shinobu interrupts you in all urgency.
“Shinazugawa might not be the most empathic man walking on this earth, but he also didn’t marry you for nothing. I’m sure everything will be fi-“
“Absolutely nothing’s fine. I’m fucking screwed”, you huff in frustration while yanking up.
You’re completely fucked. There’s no way in hell Sanemi will ever find out about this, not in this lifetime. You have to make sure that this stays a secret.
“Don’t you dare to tell him a single word about this, got it?”, you literally threaten Shinobu with your shaky finger pointing at her.
You, expecting a baby.
From Sanemi Shinazugawa.
Without even waiting for her reply, you storm out. Are you able to get rid of this situation? Mindlessly, you rub your belly when a new wave of memories from that fateful night hits you.
“I might l-love you”, you blurted into the room, Sanemi’s widened eyes staring at you in sheer horror.
“You…love me? Just yesterday, you told me how much you hate me”, he clarified with harsh voice.
“Are you drunk, (y/n)?”
“I…might be, yeah. But I mean it.”
Against all voices that begged you to stop, you darted towards him.
Until you sat on top of him and wrapped your longing arms around his neck.
“I love u, Sanemi.”
“I can’t believe a single word you say, shithead.”
“Watch me, then.”
It happened so fast you still can’t believe it. One passionate kiss, your hands wandering underneath his uniform, his muscular frame on top of you.
“You really want this?”, he huffed against your cheek, usual so maniac orbs filled with nothing but pure lust.
“Yeah”, you breathed out.
Urgh. You dig your nails into your hair, head spinning instantly. What kind of fuckery is this? Your first night ever and now…you’re pregnant? As if things between you and him aren’t already cringe enough.
“Why are you looking like shit?��
His oh so familiar voice makes your guts turn. For the split of a second, you are literally one movement away from puking all over his feet.
“Why are you talking shit?”, you spit at him, shoulder bumping against his as you try to get away from here as soon as possible.
But Sanemi grabs your wrist before you’re even able to think about your escape.
“Why were you at Shinobu’s? You never visit her.”
“I’m not feeling well”, you jeer at him.
“You even refused talking to her when your bone splatted out of your damn leg. Don’t fuck with me, (y/n). You didn’t come here for nothing.”
“Yeah, I really shouldn’t have done that”, you snap, violently ripping away your wrist.
This is way too much. Your family, Sanemi, that damned pregnancy. You thought this hell trip was over when Sanemi somehow managed to accept you, you really thought you could leave a rather peaceful life.
God, what a fucking fool you are.
“Hey, what the hell is going on? (y/n)!”
Just before your knees hit the ground, you feel Sanemi’s strong arms lifting you back up.
“What the hell has gotten into you!?”
“I’m pregnant!”, you scream on top of your lungs.
“All of this because of that damned night, because I lost my fucking control. I’m pregnant…”
Sanemi’s arms around you tense up immediately. Fuck, you can’t even bring yourself to look at him.
Truth is, you love that man. Fuck, you fell for him harder than you ever imagined, so badly that you can’t stop thinking about him. And that night, you allowed yourself to get a taste of him. After all, maybe this was all you need to finally forget about him, right?
What a fool you are.
“You’re…what?”
Violently you rub away the tear that starts rolling down your cheek.
“You’re…pregnant…”
“Saying it again and again won’t make it disappear”, you bark at him.
“I’ll be a dad?”
Huh? What is that unusual tone in his voice. Did Sanemi Shinazugawa really sound…joyful?
“Yeah…”, you mutter.
In the split of a second, you find yourself devoured in his arms and captivated by his glossy eyes. Your heart skips a beat, mind not able to follow the scene that lays itself out in front of your eyes. He doesn’t look angry at all, not even sad. No, he looks as happy as you’ve never seen him before.
“I can’t believe it. I never imagined this to happen”, he whispers while grabbing your face.
“Gosh, let me kiss you.”
“You want to kiss me?”, you shriek.
Despite your growing feelings for the wind hashira and those countless secret looks you’ve shared with each other, it was always a quiet agreement between both of you to never express any feelings. No hugs, no kisses, no questions. Just living side by side. Fuck, you never even allowed yourself to even gaze at his lips before that fateful night.
And now you’re lying in his arms, pregnant while he asks for a kiss.
“I mean…yeah”, you finally breathe out.
And then his lips crush against yours. Longingly, passionately, filled with so many emotions that you fail to breathe. All this time, you tried so desperately to hate that man, to hide your feelings from him in order to protect yourself. But all it took was a single night and that unexpected pregnancy to make you realize that maybe, allowing yourself to discover your own feelings isn’t that bad, after all.
Maybe, everything will in fact turn out alright.
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Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp
@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt
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justaz · 11 months ago
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country bumpkin merlin not knowing anything about city life and accidentally courting arthur without knowing
merlin, watching gwen give lancelot her favor: why do you do that
gwen, heart eyes at lance and not paying that much attention to the conversation: so he knows i’m rooting for him
merlin, with an Idea: ah.
gwaine, lover of chaos, pisser offer of nobles and royals alike, ultimate wingman: merlin…you have such lonely lips. shall i introduce them to mine?
merlin, unaware of the game gwaine is playing: so you can steal my breath away? i think not, scoundrel
arthur, crushing his goblet in his hand:
merlin: arthur’s been in a bad mood recently :( i should cheer him up
merlin, remembering when arthur was put out when merlin brought morgana flowers and not him: i know just the thing
merlin, bringing a bouquet of carnations, roses, and tulips and setting them on arthur’s table while he’s eating breakfast: good morning, sire
arthur, trained on flower language in hopes that one day when he was to take a queen he could woo her easily, trying not to audibly choke on his sausage as he reads merlin’s declaration of love sitting in front of him:
arthur, who recently found out about merlin’s magic and was trying to find a way to bring it up, catching him in the act and watching merlin panic to explain himself:
merlin, Freaking: and i swear to you arthur, i have only ever used it for you. my magic is yours. my life is yours. i am yours. i would never do anything to harm you. i have protected you for years and will continue to do so at your side if you’ll have me
arthur, already believing them to be courting, desperately trying to figure out if that was a proposal for marriage or not but tired of being confused and deciding fuck it: here.
merlin, taking it: i…uh…huh?
arthur, watching merlin with hawk eyes and trying to figure out what he’s thinking and feeling: it’s my mothers sigil
merlin, confused as FUCK but is focusing on the fact that arthur is handing him something of his mother rather than a death sentence: my…my lord?
arthur, realizing how scared merlin’s must be about him finding out about his magic and trying to comfort him while also proposing, killing two birds with one stone: i will always keep you at my side, merlin, so long as we both shall live. if you’ll allow me.
merlin, almost collapsing with relief and tearing up, smiling at arthur as if he had parted the storm clouds to allow sun to shine down on them in that moment: of course…of course, arthur. always and forever.
merlin, watching the castle staff rush this way and that: wow. this banquet must be incredibly important
sir leon the long suffering, day one ride or die, one of the original merthur shippers: banquet? merlin, this is for your wedding
merlin, overworked and exhausted: my WHAT? to WHO??
leon, regretting everything he’s ever done in his life that led him to this moment: to…arthur?
merlin, over joyed but also absolutely befuddled: i’m getting married to ARTHUR?????
leon: you two have been courting for the past year or so, have you not?
merlin: i’ve been COURTING ARTHUR?????? FOR A YEAR?????????
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thesilmarillionblog · 5 months ago
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COME CLOSER
Summary: Reader asks her friend, Soldier Boy to take her virginity.
Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader
Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), virgin reader!, smut, language, rough Soldier Boy, beard kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, friends with benefits
Word Count: 4052
A/N: English is not my first language.
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You grabbed the gun from Ben's suit and placed it in your bag without even waiting for a response since you knew he wouldn't refuse you. “May I take this?” you said. “Just for safety issues.”
Ben joined the team to kill Homelander months ago, and because you two have been on missions together for so long, you two have kind of gotten to know one another. He frequently teased you, and most of the time he really got on your nerves. Another thing Butcher's wanted from you regarding Ben was to make sure you kept an eye on him while he was high or furious. 
He sighed, “You are already in safe hands,” and then gave you a little push toward the car, where Butcher and the other members of the team were waiting. “You know that you are something different. Trying to protect yourself with a firearm in spite of the fact that you already have three supes with you, me included, who are the strongest and greatest.” 
“After the job is completed, even the biggest dicks become smaller. I wonder if your gigantic ego will ever be smaller one day, Ben.”
“Not mine,” he winked at you in between his laughter before the two of you entered the car. “How on earth does a naive virgin speak like that? I must discipline your dirty mouth at some point.” 
He pushed until you reached the other side of the seat, and you muttered, “Shut up.” Your face flushed. “You leave no space for me.”
“Do I look like your personal driver?” Butcher growled at Hughie to come in too, questioned in a disapproving tone. Then Butcher turned back to Hughie, who was sitting in the passenger seat, and said, “Where the fuck is your girlfriend?”
“She arrived earlier with the others. They were driven there by Frenchie already.”
“Will you shut up and drive?” Ben messed with your hair for a while while ignoring what you said that he was going to ruin it, saying to Butcher in an irritated manner. 
“Good boy gone bad, huh?” Ben ignored you and filled the entire seat between your complaints. Butcher murmured, “Let's fucking have some fun there since we may not be finding any free time soon, Navy girlies.” 
Luckily, Butcher managed to locate a club devoid of supes, but it was still massive and insane, complete with loud music. Hughie's gaze found Annie right away, and Butcher followed after him while he winked at the girl who was staring at him with a chuckle. 
You gave Ben a drink and complained, “Do I have to babysit you?” Even though all of the girls were capturing his attention, he was undoubtedly hearing what you were saying. 
He patted your head and said, "Babysit me?" with a look of astonishment. "Sweetheart, it's me who has been watching you for several months. After all, it's easy for you to get into trouble." 
"Me?" As he messed with your hair, you giggled and attempted to push his hands away. "You're always on the verge of being furious for no reason at all, and I have to keep your ego boosted when you are about to lose it." 
"Or maybe I act it this way to get you even more anxious; what do you think? Your human face looks so funny when you're trying to calm me," he smirked and remarked with arrogance. 
Punching him in the chest, you said, "You're impossible," although your wrist ached. You sighed in agony, "Fuck, Ben," and made sure everything was okay by looking at your hand. Thankfully, there were no physical wounds. 
"Why the fuck have you tried to punch me now? Haven't you still learned I'm built to last?" he complained, gently massaging your hands. 
You muttered, "You're so annoying," while he sighed and released your hands. "I can't imagine why almost nobody likes you." 
"All you do this evening is talk rudely with that lovely mouth of yours and spit poison. Also, you are to blame. How many times do I have to tell you not to try to punch me? Wish to adopt a tough-ass persona? You're just a little sensitive, soft doll," he continued to tease, causing you to flush with rage. 
"Remember the day I gave myself a Temp-V injection? When I really punched you, you seemed rather surprised, and I'm sure it hurt." 
“I didn't think being a temporary Supe could happen, and that was a while ago.” Ben continued to smirk and replied, “Keep that in mind. I was merely trying to comprehend the change in your scent when you unexpectedly struck me and pushed me against the wall. You know, I should have been doing that. Of course, I'm not referring to the punching; rather, I'm speaking to the second one, but more gently.”
Ben flirted with you, giving you a tiny pinch on the chin and a wink. He was perhaps the most flirtatious man ever, but the reason he acted this way was that you told him you were a virgin, and even when he understood you were becoming too shy and a little anxious, he continued to tease you verbally. You didn't feel uncomfortable about it, though. 
“Whatever.” You rushed to end it, fearing he would start talking even more profanely. You tried to silence him by putting your palm over his mouth. “When are you going to shave this beard? It's really lengthy.”
He murmured, “I thought you liked it longer and thicker,” as he combed his facial hair. 
This time, instead of being annoyed, you giggled. “You're impossible.” 
You said, “I'm going to check on Annie and others,” feeling a little guilty for something you didn't even understand when you saw him searching for women who fit his tastes. “So that you can have your fun.”
Ben, who had just bought a drink for himself, approached a redhead who had been staring at him passionately ever since he entered the bar. You led the way to join Annie and the rest of the team, but you were carrying a heavy weight that you couldn't quite explain. You did your best to ignore the stupid ache in your heart and laugh out loud at Butcher's half-made-up stories. It was a rare, heartfelt moment of calm after months, shared by all of you as you briefly watched the redhead woman take Ben's head and lead him to the second floor.
Ben's social batteries ran out after a few hours, and when he got into a fight with Butcher, you volunteered to take him home in your car because you were starting to have headaches too. Annie and Kimiko were dancing in the center; it appeared like they were just getting started. Either their heightened enthusiasm was to blame, or you simply didn't feel like having fun at that particular time. Ben was the source of your annoyance because he preferred to spend his time in the club having fun with other women and left you kind of alone.
You just said, “I will drive Ben back; just stop arguing for once,” and snatched Butcher's keys. “I assume everyone will be arriving home late. It appears that Kimiko and Annie won't be calling it a night anytime soon.” After observing them for some time, they realized you were right. Kimiko was high as fuck.
Ben didn't have a shower in his own room, so he quickly took one in yours once you drove home. Surprisingly, he hasn't complained to Butcher about it in any manner, and you've allowed him to use yours anytime he needs to, even if he occasionally takes a shower a bit too frequently, leading you to believe that he does it on purpose to irritate and enrage you so that you two can argue. But no matter what, his unique word choice never failed to make you chuckle.
As he was taking care of himself in the bathroom, you considered something you had long since ignored: your virginity. You could never go one step beyond, not even if you were in your mid-20s. You just didn't want it to be just one fleeting, pointless act, and you didn't feel anything at all. Perhaps you were a shamefully traditional person who was eagerly awaiting the realization of your real fate.
Ben used to make jokes about your virginity, which you didn't mind, but tonight it kind of got under your skin and made you feel uneasy, like there was something wrong with you. It just didn't seem right at all to be a virgin in your mid-twenties. 
“You appear to be lost in thoughts. What's consuming your mind so much?” Ben queried. 
His long beard and damp hair were pouring over the floor as he emerged from the bathroom, his thick, muscular belly wrapped in a towel. Your eyebrows are raised between your sighs. Though you always knew he was extremely attractive, he seemed even more so at this moment. 
Ben glanced at your short dress too, seeing that you were staring at him as your lips parted slightly in a hint of yearning. He smirked, conceited, seeing your legs pushed together. 
“I think I can make a guess.” He walked over to sit on the bed next to you and mumbled. 
You hesitantly said, “I was thinking something,” not quite sure what to say exactly. 
“About?”
You abruptly asked, trying not to flush too much as you moved the bed and fully turned your body to face him. “Would you take my virginity?” 
Ben exclaimed, “What?” with his lips parted in wonder as he tried to understand what you meant and raised an eyebrow. 
“You already heard me.” 
Ben laughed and ignored your request, saying, “Are you drunk or do you need to jerk off? You're going to be a good nun when you grow up.”
“I'm serious here,” you said, blushing red from embarrassment and rage at the fact that the fact that he didn't take you seriously at all.
Ben's mocking expression changed to one of confusion as he realized you were serious. “I thought you were waiting for the love of your life or something. Why did you change your mind all of a sudden?”
“I wasn't waiting for someone,” you denied right away. “I decided being like this bothers me, and I want to change it.”
You continued, “We have known each other for months, and I think we kind of formed a good friendship during this time,” before he said anything, you added, “It must be okay to ask your friend for help, and it's better than to be with a total stranger, right?”
“I'm not the right person to share something like that.” Ben said in a serious tone, “I don't know why you made this decision so quickly, but you'll regret it tomorrow, I promise. If you are horny, I can give fingerfuck you, though.” It was clear that he was not hearing you clearly. 
“It's not really that significant, is it? I didn't wait for someone right away, as I had said. If I knew I would regret saying it, I wouldn't have said it in the first place. What's the purpose of friends?”
Hesitantly, you reached out to touch his damp arms to gauge his reaction while also conveying your concern. You felt your small confidence begin to fade as you noticed he was staring at you with the same expression, so you brought your hands back to yourself. “Well, of course I won't try to convince you to take my virginity if you don't want to get into such an intimate interaction with me,” you said, trying not to seem offended or disappointed. “It's a different issue.”
Your heart raced under your thin dress as you anxiously awaited his response. 
“I would fuck you with pleasure; it's not that I don't want it,” he added, examining your bare legs and breasts as they rose and fell in time with your heavy breaths. He whispered, placing his rough palms on your chin. “But I can't promise it won't hurt, and I don't want it to be just a one-time thing.”
You muttered, “I know it's going to hurt,” and at last he relaxed and seemed to agree. 
He smirked and continued, “I'll fuck your cunt whenever I want,” staring right into your eyes and making you tremble at the sensation. “You'll spread your legs for me and beg me to fuck you.”
“It's better,” you said as his hand lowered to your throat, causing you to become even more thrilled. You chuckled awkwardly and murmured, “Practice makes perfect, right?”
Your lips parted in ecstasy as his thumb massaged your hardened nipple, and he gently pinched it between his fingers through your dress. He didn't even slightly break eye contact with you, as if he wanted to watch every move you made. 
Ben mumbled, “I wonder if you're dripping under there already,” as he climbed on top of you. Feeling uncertain about what action to take, you placed your quivering hands on his large chest. 
His palm stroked your pussy through your underpants, and you clenched around nothing, murmuring, “I feel like it.” You were already embarrassingly drenched; you knew that. 
“Ben,” you murmured quickly, and his hand instantly froze there. He stared at you, confused, not knowing if you wanted to stop or not. You grabbed his wrist and stopped him just as he was about to return his hand to himself. “Can you do the entire job for tonight” you said in a hesitant manner. “I have absolutely no idea what to do.”
Ben surprised you with a kiss on the forehead and said, “Of course I'll do the entire job. You just lay down and relax. I'm going to take care of you well, okay?”
You nodded quickly, trusting that Ben knew what to do when he started to rub your pussy through your underwear again. Your hips rose higher to meet his movements as he played with your clit with a gentle thumb. “Let's get rid of your dress, huh?” he said, helping you to remove it from your body. You were lying under him naked, except for your underwear.
You wanted to hide your body with your hands because you felt a little shy, but you forced yourself to look at him with courage because you wanted this to be good. Even if he was already erect under the towel, he ignored his own needs to give you the pleasure you needed first.
Then he pinched your nipples once more and added, “You have such lovely tits.” Before you could respond, he put his warm lips on one of your tits and started sucking, giving you very light bites. You were a little scared that he could harm you because you had a big power imbalance since he was a supe, but you chose to put your trust in him because you knew he had experience having intercourse with normal people just like you.
As he continued licking both of your nipples, you placed your hands behind his hair and pulled. You pushed his head to your tit as you raised your hip to match his movement, but you moaned loudly when he ripped off your panties and inserted one of his meaty fingers inside of you slowly, even though you were trying really hard not to scream. It was difficult to take even one finger, so tears welled up in your eyes, but you didn't want to ruin the moment.
Groaning, “Fuck, you are tighter than I expected,” he lifted his head.
When he noticed your pained expression, he began to gently massage your clit with his thumb once again. Thankfully, this helped you feel better, and after a while, you began to slowly tighten around his finger.
He asked in a rough voice, “Do you like me fingering you?” and continued to push his finger in and out. “Your pussy is so adorable and swollen. You so desperately need me to fuck you raw.”
He commanded, “Tell me it's just for me,” tensing up his motions as you continued to tighten around his finger.
You said, “Just for you,” and he attempted to press another finger, but you were simply too tense to take it. You said, “Ben, be slow,” in a panic.
“In order for you to take me easier, we need to properly prepare your little pussy. Now spread your legs and don't cover that adorable cunt,” he gave another command. It was then that you realized you were attempting to press your legs together.
You spread your legs so he could see you as per the directions he gave. You let out a loud cry of pleasure and agony as he carefully inserted another finger. Ben swallowed your groans and stretched you with two fingers, his warm lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.
You were moaning inside his mouth while his tongue and fingers dominated you. Ben felt your wetness on his fingers, your hips rising to match his rhythm, and he felt like he might come without even touching himself.
With a harsh voice, he commanded, “Cum on my fingers,” and proceeded to fuck you while your walls tensed up. With a loud moan and his name between your lips, you nailed his biceps while he watched you orgasm under his touch. “Good girl. You are so easy to make cum. Fuck, you're a needy one.”
You continued orgasming and wetting them while Ben held your fingers within. Even though your pussy felt extremely sensitive, he continued to finger you without giving you a minute's break after your climax had passed.
“Ben, it feels sensitive.”
“Fucking take it,” he growled. “You'll come as much as I want you to.”
You muttered, “I don't think I can,” as your legs continued to shake uncontrollably.
“You can and you will,” Ben responded, and he proceeded to fuck you even more forcefully than before.
The bedroom was filled with obscene noises, and your eyes welled up with tears of pleasure.
“Cum to me,” he commanded again, and you instantly clenched around his fingers. Putting your hands over his head, you kissed him, pressing your lips to his in an attempt to stop your moans.
As you orgasmed, you sensed him grinning slightly against your lips throughout the kiss. He whispered, “You're so fucking tight, you're almost going to lock me inside your pussy,” as you calmed down after your climax subsided. “I guess you're ready now.”
Your eyes widened with fear and dread as he removed the towel from his belly and threw it to the ground, revealing his firm cock. Ben began to give himself brief strokes while spreading your legs apart. Aware of your discomfort, he smiled slightly at you. “I'll do my best to be gentle. You're enough soaked already.”
You nodded to him, waiting tensely as you watched him pump himself between his rough hands. You tensed up abruptly as the tip of his cock touched your entrance, and he took himself in hand after giving it enough strokes.
He said, “Relax,” and kept pushing the tip inside. “Fuck, take it already.”
You attempted to let him in, your legs trembling with desire and dread, but you couldn't stop clenching.
You whimpered, your eyes welling with tears, as he thrust his cock inside with a forceful move. You also pulled his hair around his neck. Your hips were being held in place by his hands, preventing you from moving them. You were certain that it would bruise badly.
You cried out in fear, “Ben,” as he persisted in pushing. Tears fell from the corner of your eyes onto the covers when you were nailing his arms.
He groaned, “Calm down,” and gave you some time to relax. “It's just the head.”
“Sorry,” you said, ashamed that you weren't able to bear pain and adding unnecessary difficulty to the procedure.
His eyes widened at the sight of your face, and he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead. He whispered, “Hey, it's okay. You take me so good, so warm,” in between kisses and proceeded to place his cock inside of you once more. You knew it was a major step for you when you felt like he broke your hymen. This time, his hands gently remained on your hips as he sensed a change in your feelings.
Thank goodness, you relaxed between his kisses and compliments, and your wetness allowed him to enter at last. Ben gave you time to get used to his size after his cock completely filled your insides.
After planting another hard kiss on your lips, he asked, “Are you okay now?” and stroked your cheeks. 
You responded, “I'm okay,” as the agony lessened and you began to get pleasure from his cock pulsing inside of you. 
Ben put his hands on the sheets, and as he started to move slowly inside of you, you locked your legs around his hip. 
He groaned, “You're so tight around me,” as he began to move faster. “I should have fucked you sooner.”
He gave you quick kisses, and his bushy beard tickled your chin as he began to fuck you quickly and roughly. “I'll turn this little cunt addicted to my cock.”
As you continued to moan beneath him, he gave another order: “Tell me you want me to fuck you hard.”
You murmured, “Please,” and he slowed down. 
Ben wrapped his hand around your neck and said, “Beg me properly,” but he wasn't using force against you. 
You sighed, “Fuck me hard, please, Ben.” You moaned as you saw his mucsles stretching as he continued to penetrate you quickly and roughly. Your hands nailed his chest and broad abdomen. 
He put your legs on his shoulders and stated, “I'm going to fuck you every day; make you my little cumslut. Do you enjoy having your friend fuck you? Does this turn you on?”
When he kept talking filth, you couldn’t stop clenching around his cock.
He moaned, “Fuck,” in between hard strokes. “Look at this pussy clench. You really get turned on by it.”
Ben intensified his movements as your legs trembled with pleasure around his hips, and you felt your climax strike with a loud moan and a cunning sneer on his face. You tried biting your lip to muffle the moans, but it was difficult as Ben fucked you raw, on top of you, dominating your whole body. 
He whispered, “I'm going to fuck your face another time,” and put his thumb inside your mouth. “Suck it. Prove to me how much you crave my cock inside your mouth.”
You groaned in displeasure as he slowed. Ben strictly said, “Suck it, show me how badly you want my cock inside your mouth, and I'll fuck you as you need,” when you lifted your hips to get him to return to his previous rhythm. 
With the expectation that he would like it, you put your lips around his thumb and started to lick it with your tongue. 
He mumbled, “Fuck yes, gonna cum inside that mouth,” and started fucking you quickly and roughly once more. 
He muttered, “Almost there,” and continued to fuck you while staring at your bouncing tits. 
His hardness continued to throb inside of you as you tightened around him one more time and orgasmed. He moaned and spilled inside of you, filling you with his thick and warm ropes. 
Ben continued to fill your pussy as your climax subsided. You felt incredibly satisfied because you felt so full of his seed. 
When he was finished, he carefully pulled out his cock, exposing the blood at the tip. Ben gave you a long, hard kiss on the lips when he noticed you were staring at it. 
You offered him a tiny smile as he whispered, “Come closer,” and he embraced you with his large arms. “Are you alright?” 
You continued to stroke his beard while responding, “Yes.” Actually, you've never felt better.
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hoshifighting · 4 months ago
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jealous!wonwoo
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— synopsis: wonwoo brings you to his friend's birthday party to finally introduce you to his friends for the first time. however, your kindness is having an unexpected effect on him.
— WARNINGS: smut, jealousy, possessiveness, slut shamming, penetrative sex, rough sex, creampie, mentions of blood, cum, a lot of dirty talk, dom!wonwoo, jealous!wonwoo, kind!reader.
it's changkyun's birthday, and you stand in the midst of it all, your fingers tracing the rim of a cold drink, feeling a little out of place but excited nonetheless. it's your first time meeting wonwoo's friends, and he's been talking about them for weeks, making you feel like you've already known them forever. he was thrilled to finally introduce you, the person who’s captured his heart, to the people closest to him.
wonwoo’s been glued to your side all night, smiling proudly as he watches you effortlessly charm everyone around. he loves how gentle you are, how kind, and he was confident you'd get along with everyone. that’s why he fell for you—because you make things easy, even the hard stuff. but now, as he stands talking to jihoon, something feels off. he can’t quite pinpoint when it started, but a weird knot's been forming in his stomach.
“so, y/n,” changkyun grins, rolling up his sleeve to show off a fresh tattoo on his forearm. “what do you think? it's still healing, but i think it turned out pretty dope.”
you lean in closer, eyes widening in appreciation. “oh wow, that's amazing! i've been thinking about getting one for ages but never had the guts to go through with it. you must have a high pain tolerance,” you laugh, lightly brushing his arm with your fingers.
wonwoo’s eyes flicker over to you, catching that moment. something about the way you’re leaning into changkyun’s space, the genuine interest in your voice—it rubs him the wrong way. 
he tries to focus on jihoon’s story about a songwriting mishap, but all he hears is the distant hum of voices. he can't help but feel a pang of something—jealousy? possessiveness?—as he watches you interact so easily with his friends, especially changkyun.
“yeah, it hurt like hell, but it was worth it,” changkyun chuckles, glancing over at you. “maybe you should get one too, then we could be tattoo buddies. what do you say?”
you laugh, a warm sound that feels like home to wonwoo, but now it’s mixed with an unfamiliar sensation. “maybe i will,” you say playfully.
wonwoo feels a strange twist in his chest, like something fragile and delicate is being tugged at. he knows you’re just being your usual sweet self, but seeing you get along so well with changkyun, someone he’s always been close to, brings out a protective side he didn't know he had. he doesn’t like this feeling—this weird, prickly sensation crawling up his spine. it’s not like him to feel insecure, especially around his friends.
he tries to shake it off, but it's like an itch he can't scratch. “hey, y/n,” he calls out, trying to keep his tone light, “come over here for a sec. i wanna introduce you to jihoon properly.”
you turn towards wonwoo, catching a glimpse of the slight tension in his eyes. you can sense something’s off, but you don't want to make a scene, especially not tonight. 
you nod and give changkyun a quick smile. “sure, be right back,” you say, walking over to wonwoo and jihoon.
“everything okay?” you ask quietly, searching his face for a clue.
wonwoo smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. “yeah, just wanted to make sure you were having fun. it’s a lot, meeting everyone at once.”
it doesn't take much for wonwoo to feel uncomfortable again. even as you chat with jihoon, he can't help but feel a flicker of unease. jihoon's quiet personality, paired with your genuine curiosity, makes wonwoo's insides twist.
he knows you're just being gentle, like always, but that's the thing—everyone likes it. not just him. and that thought gnaws at him, despite knowing it's irrational.
he tries to brush it off, but the more he watches, the tighter the knot in his chest becomes. the final straw comes when jihoon leans in closer, discussing something that makes you laugh, your eyes crinkling at the corners. without thinking, wonwoo excuses himself and heads straight for you, an unfamiliar urgency in his step.
“hey, can we talk for a sec?” his voice is calm, but there's an edge to it you can't quite place.
you glance at him, noting the tension in his posture. “sure,” you reply, excusing yourself from jihoon with a polite smile. wonwoo leads you to a quiet corner of the room, away from the prying eyes of his friends.
“what’s up?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light, but the atmosphere feels heavy.
“let's go home,” he says, avoiding your gaze. the abruptness of his request catches you off guard.
“home? already?” you echo, genuinely surprised. “but it's still early, and we haven't even had cake yet.”
wonwoo shrugs, his expression unreadable. “i just... i think we've been here long enough.”
you can sense something's off, but he's not giving anything away. it feels strange, leaving the party so soon, especially when everyone seemed to be having a good time.
and while he tries to mask it, you can read him like a book. deep down, you know he's somehow mad. 
the car ride home is silent, tension thick in the air. you try to ask him what's bothering him, but he brushes it off, offering vague reassurances that everything's fine. it's frustrating, his refusal to communicate, and you decide to push him—just to see how far he'll go, denying what's clearly eating at him.
once you both arrive home, you kick off your shoes and head straight for the bedroom, ignoring his attempts to engage in conversation. his eyes follow you, growing more intense with every step you take away from him.
 the silent treatment is intended, a way to force him to confront whatever he's hiding. wonwoo stands in the doorway, watching as you busy yourself with trivial tasks—checking your phone, removing your jewelry. the longer you ignore him, the more palpable his anger becomes.
“y/n, can we talk?” his voice is low, barely containing his frustration.
you continue to avoid his gaze, feigning interest in your phone. “about what?” you ask, your tone almost dismissive.
that’s all it takes. 
something in wonwoo snaps, the last remnants of his patience fraying. in two quick strides, he's in front of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you close. the sudden movement startles you, and you drop your phone, eyes widening in surprise. his grip is firm, not painful, but enough to let you know he's serious.
“stop it,” he growls, his voice laced with an unfamiliar edge. “stop pretending like you don't know what's going on.”
you blink up at him, “i don't know what you're talking about,” you say, but the slight quiver in your voice betrays you.
wonwoo's eyes darken, a dangerous glint flashing in them. “don't play dumb, y/n. you've been doing this all night—flirting with my friends, acting like it's nothing.”
your breath catches in your throat, caught off guard by his accusation. “i wasn't flirting,” you protest, but the words feel weak, even to you.
“oh, please,” he scoffs, his grip tightening slightly. “don't give me that innocent act. you know exactly what you were doing, batting those pretty eyes, laughing at their jokes. you loved the attention, didn't you?”
you feel a flush of anger rise in your chest, but before you can retort, he pulls you even closer, his breath hot against your ear. “you're such a fucking slut,” he whispers, the words dripping with venom. “enjoying every second of it, making me look like a fool.”
his jealousy, his possessiveness, it's intoxicating in a way you can't quite understand. and he knows it too, sees the way your breath hitches, the way your body reacts to his words.
“is this what you wanted?” he hisses, his hand slipping under your shirt, fingers digging into your waist. “to push me until i snapped? well, congratulations, baby, you got your wish.”
before you can respond, his mouth is on yours, rough and demanding. it's not a kiss; it's a claiming, a punishment. he kisses you like he wants to devour you, like he's angry with himself for wanting you this much. you kiss him back with equal fervor, matching his aggression with your own, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. he groans, the sound vibrating against your mouth, and you feel a surge of satisfaction.
with a growl, he pushes you against the wall, hands roaming over your body with a frantic urgency. he tugs at your clothes, tearing them off in his haste, not caring if he rips fabric or skin. there's no time for tenderness, no room for gentle caresses.
as his fingers slip beneath your shirt, they pause, feeling the delicate texture of lace and satin. his breath hitches when he discovers the coquette lingerie you’re wearing, complete with tiny bows adorning the bra and panties. you can almost hear his thoughts—did you wear this just to tease him?
he yanks down the waistband of your panties, revealing more bows trailing down the sides.
the sight of you, so perfectly dressed to seduce, makes him want to tear everything off and claim you right there and then.
he grabs your hips, his grip firm and commanding, and without another word, he pushes you harder against the wall, positioning himself behind you. the soft, feminine bows are the last thing on his mind as he enters you without warning, rough and rigid.
you cry out, the sensation heightened by the feeling of the lingerie still partially clinging to your body. the combination of pain making your knees to buckle, and he doesn't give you time to adjust. 
“you think this is funny?” he hisses in your ear, his voice dangerous. “teasing me like this, showing off like some kind of slut?”
he doesn't give you time to adjust, thrusting into you with a punishing rhythm, his hands digging into your flesh. “this is what you wanted, right?” he grits out, his voice a harsh whisper in your ear. “to be fucked like the slut you are?”
you moan, the sound echoing in the room. he pulls your hair, forcing your head back as he pounds into you, each thrust harder than the last. it's brutal, almost savage, and yet you can't get enough. you revel in the way he takes you, the way he owns you, body and soul.
“god, you're so fucking tight,” he groans. “so wet for me, like you were just waiting for this.”
you bite your lip, trying to stifle your moans, but he notices. he always does. with a snarl, he reaches around and grabs your chin, forcing you to face him. “don't hold back, i want to hear you. i want everyone to know how much you love this.”
you can't hold back anymore. the intensity of his thrusts, the harshness of his words, it's all too much. you cry out, your voice raw and desperate, echoing off the walls.
“w-woo,” you sob, your voice shaky and breathless. 
every thrust feels like it's tearing you apart, and the sensation of his big cock stretching you is overwhelming. he growls at the sound of his name, making you feel like you're teetering on the edge of something explosive.
wonwoo’s hand slides down your body, his fingers tracing the curve of your underbelly with a teasing slowness that contrasts with the brutal pace of his hips. he knows exactly what he's doing, savoring every second of your desperate whimpers. 
his hand dips lower, and when he finds your clit, he circles it with rough, intentional movements that make your whole body jolt. the pleasure is electric, a stark contrast to the roughness of his thrusts, and it sends you spiraling.
“getting fucked like a little slut, all dressed up in this cute lingerie just for me.”
you can only moan in response, your mind too clouded with pleasure to form coherent words. his fingers work your clit with a ruthless accuracy, driving you closer and closer to the edge. every flick of his wrist sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you, and you can feel the tight coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter.
“such a greedy little thing,” he continues, his voice a low, rumbling purr. “clenching around my cock like you want me to fill you up, huh? you want me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow?”
his cock feels impossibly big, almost splitting you in half, and you can’t help the way your body responds, muscles clenching and pulling him deeper. it’s too much, and yet not enough, every thrust bringing you closer to the brink of thoughtlessness.
“fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, his voice strained with effort. “gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that.”
the knot in your belly twists tighter, the pressure building to a fever pitch. the world narrows down to the feeling of him inside you, his hands on your body, his voice in your ear. you know you're about to fall, your orgasm so close you can almost taste it.
“please, please,” you babble, your voice a desperate plea. “i’m so close, wonwoo, please—”
his hand speeds up on your clit, his fingers pressing down with just the right amount of pressure. it sends a shudder through you, and with a final, brutal thrust, he pushes you over the edge. 
your orgasm knocks you down, your entire body convulsing with the force of it. your walls clench around his cock, almost pulling him over the edge with you, and he lets out a low, guttural moan.
the world blurs as the tides of your orgasm continue to wash over you, your body trembling with aftershocks. you can feel him throbbing inside you, his cock twitching as he chases his own release. the sensation is almost too much, and yet you crave it, needing to feel him come undone inside you.
“cum for me,” you whisper, “please, wonwoo, i need it—”
with a strangled groan, he thrusts into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you as he finally lets go. you feel him pulse inside you, the heat of his release filling you up. 
you can feel yourself dripping as he pulls out, the sensation of his cum mingling with your own. your pussy feels almost numb, a lingering ache from the vigor of it all. your legs are trembling, barely able to hold you up as you try to steady yourself against the wall. your breaths come in ragged gasps, each one punctuated by a soft hiccup that you can’t seem to control.
 “hey,” he murmurs, his voice softening as he gently turns you to face him. “are you alright?”
you nod, though the effort it takes to stay upright makes your knees wobble. 
he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close and guiding you to the bed. as you sink down onto the mattress, the world seems to tilt slightly, your body still recovering from the overwhelming sensations. wonwoo sits beside you, his hand stroking your back in soothing circles.
“i’m sorry,” he says quietly, his tone filled with genuine remorse. “i didn’t mean to be so rough.”
you manage a small smile, leaning into his touch. “it’s okay.”
he nods, his eyes still searching yours for any signs of discomfort. “just... let me take care of you now,” he says, his voice tender. “lie back.”
“woo…”
“hm?”
“i'm yours.”
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psychedelic-ink · 1 year ago
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𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort
word count: 4.9k
summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.
warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)
a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it
a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕
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Joel was never that into gambling. 
Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy. 
He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it. 
Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way. 
However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up. 
One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs. 
Liam folds. 
A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants. 
“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat. 
Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.” 
“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.” 
Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak. 
“You still have that pretty girlfriend?” 
Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.” 
“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins. 
“Fuck you, Miller.” 
“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.” 
Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes. 
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“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.” 
“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.” 
You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.” 
That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?
“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.” 
“You should’ve thought of that before.” 
“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.” 
“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?” 
“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.” 
“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.” 
You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.
“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.” 
“You can’t leave, where would you go?” 
The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world. 
And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes. 
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You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing. 
Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color. 
Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded. 
The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate. 
You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart. 
You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything. 
And it seemed like you were no exception. 
Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners. 
You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear. 
“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.” 
Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there. 
And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam. 
It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much. 
And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self. 
The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another. 
You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel. 
There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down. 
“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.” 
After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you. 
“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.” 
He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?” 
“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.” 
“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”
Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow. 
Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.” 
“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.” 
Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue. 
He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?” 
“God, yes.” 
You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard. 
Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.
He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most. 
Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh. 
“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.” 
Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion. 
Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed. 
“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?” 
It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?” 
“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.” 
The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage. 
“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue. 
Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight. 
After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin. 
“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.” 
He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?” 
“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.” 
You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”
Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely.  “Don’t make me say it again.” 
You sink to your knees immediately after that. 
He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek. 
You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks. 
“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.” 
You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.” 
“Get on with it then.” 
Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock. 
“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth. 
“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”
Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.  
“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.” 
As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass. 
“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—” 
His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses. 
“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.” 
Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts. 
“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.” 
“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.” 
“Is this pussy mine?” 
“Yes, it’s fucking yours.” 
Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning. 
He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?” 
“Yours! It’s fucking yours!” 
Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking. 
You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger. 
“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?” 
“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust. 
“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words. 
His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously. 
“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?” 
“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.” 
His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.” 
Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him. 
With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.” 
“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.” 
Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!” 
You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you. 
“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!” 
“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself. 
“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.” 
You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful. 
You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone. 
“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—” 
Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out. 
If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips. 
“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls. 
“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.” 
“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss. 
Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss. 
“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?” 
“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you. 
Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm. 
Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides. 
Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together. 
“I think he left, sweetheart.” 
“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.” 
Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore. 
5K notes · View notes
earth4angels · 5 months ago
Text
𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
jacaerys velaryon x aunt!targaryen reader ͟ ͟ ͟ friends to lovers, sexual content but no smut, incest (reader is aunt), fluff, semi angst(?), aemond being dumb, jace knows how to fight, i refuse to believe laenor never taught his kids how to defend themselves. slight switch of povs, basically the dinner fight, but added my own take, not edited.
summary: after the accident in driftmark the relationship between y/n and jacaerys became distant, when it came to the petition of the heir to driftmark, feelings came back full force. it took a bloody fight yet again to get jacaerys to act on his feelings before it was too late. but also, to unite the house of the dragon.
a/n: um? this is probably more than 1k words, i really went in. i had so much fun writing this & gosh.. do i have the guts to expand their relationship BUT ANYWAYS ENJOYYYY
somewhat based on this request. jace tag list: @jacaerysgf, @star611, @jules420, @gracexthoughts, @astrxq, @reyndaisy, @hxtd
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For as long as Jacaerys can remember, he had always felt deep affection for his dearest aunt who was no more than a year older.
At first, it started with a childish admiration for how she spoke to him, how she would run her fingers through his curls when he would run towards her after sword training, read stories about the doom, or Visenya who she claimed was the best warrior to ever exist. Jacaerys admired her, she was his favorite aunt not that he had many but besides Helaena, she was his favorite. Again, it started with a childish crush. The smallfolk had a joke spread about how if anyone wanted to find Y/N, one had to look for small Jacaerys who followed closely behind her like a pup.
She never minded the talk, she loved her siblings and her nephews, it was one thing that differed her from her own brothers, who grew to despise the Velaryon boys. She loved Jacaerys, the way he always spoke of his growing bond with Vermax, the small adventures they would take to the gardens, or the adventures they took through the secret passages, and the library. She especially loved the moments he would sneak her strawberry cakes during her high valyrian studies when no one was looking. To her, Jacaerys was so dear to her heart, she dreamed childishly how it would be if they married.
She never understood why the hatred grew to the point everything that pointed toward her older sister was prohibited. Her siblings never had a close relationship with their father, but she did, she enjoyed the stories her father told her, but she mostly loved building and painting his replica of the seven kingdoms with him. Her father, King Viserys had always talked to her about protecting their own, as it was said, the House of the Dragon had to stay together to hold the realm united.
"Damn bastard," Aemond muttered under his breath as he rushed past her dusting his now muddy training gear. She narrowed her eyes at her brother, the word bringing her to wince. It was not the first time she heard it, at the age of 6, her mother had prohibited her from spending time with her half-sister and her children since the fight at Driftmark. She understood why, but she could not bring herself to be cold towards her half-family.
"Brother, enough." Y/n had her hand up to his shoulder, Aemond's one eye glared at her, "You must learn to let go of this anger, it is treason to speak of that word out loud."
Aemond scoffed, "Of course, my dear sister, protecting the bastards, you still defend them after what they did to me?" Aemond had snatched his eyepatch from his eye, showing its bright blue glow of a gem towards her.
"Brother... we were all children! Luce was only protec-" She choked as she was now slammed against the wall, a hand tight around her neck, she wildly stared at him, alarmed.
"Protecting? Dear sister, you are more than a fool. You rather protect bastards than the blood of the dragon?" Aemond chuckled in disbelief, "You, the same as father are fools."
He let go of her as she slumped against the wall, her hand clasped around her throat as she heaved, trying to get air back into her lungs. She watched teary-eyed from the loss of air the shadows of her brother grow distant with the further he went down the hall.
"Y/n?" a voice spoke from the opposite side of the hall. She looked back to meet the face of her once-best friend. "Seven hells! What happened?!"
Jacaerys rushed towards her, lifting her carefully as if she were the most fragile jewel to exist. In a sense to Jacaerys, she was.
She blinked, confused as to where he had come from. The last time she saw him, they were children, and he had promised to write her, yet after five ravens, the letters stopped, causing her to believe he had grown to hate her for what happened that night. It was then she realized why Aemond was so upset, why her mother suddenly left her and Heleana from embroidery to attend the council. Her mother avoided greeting her half-sister. Today was the petition of who was going to take over Driftmark. The house of the dragon was united once again, but not in the way she wanted to.
"Nephew?" She asked, confused again.
"Come, sit here. Let me get you some water," Jacaerys had placed her in the comfort of the shade of a tree. He had removed his cloak, placing it on the ground for her to sit as he ran to get her water. She stayed in silence beside her dry coughs that slipped once in a while. Jacaerys appeared again with a glass of water, she muttered a soft thank you before she drank till her throat was once again free from the harsh itches.
She looked toward him, finding him looking at her softly, his eyes burying themselves in the soft lilac color of her eyes. She blushed, coughing to avoid looking at him instead she focused on the grass beside her, picking at it softly.
"So... care to explain why you have a red mark on your neck?"
Y/n bit the inside of her cheek before she focused her stare on the blank blue sky, if Jacaerys was not paying attention he would have missed the soft murmur of her voice, "It was nothing."
Jacaerys opened his mouth to argue when the bells of the castle banged so hard that they echoed through the hallways.
"Don't think I won't let this go y/n," he spoke softly beside her, she only blinked in response. He shook his head as his tongue touched the roof of his mouth and he let go, making a sound that almost sounded like a click.
"You should go, my sister would probably be worried as to why you are taking so long. It is rude to keep your mother waiting."
Jacaerys rolled his eyes, before he lifted a hand towards her, a gesture for her to grab onto it. She stared at his pale hand, taking a moment to admire the changes, he was muscular now, and no more stood the boy who almost looked easy to push around. She followed the path of his hand toward his face, her breath hitching when she realized he still wore the necklace she had made him when they were children.
"You... you kept it?" Y/n stuttered, pointing to his neck. Jacaerys hummed, touching it delicately, his fingers rubbing softly at the soft shells. She had made that the day of Laena's funeral, she went and followed the path towards the beach to find seashells. She made it in hopes for him to feel better. She never thought he would keep it after all those years.
"Why wouldn't I?"
She stood up on her own avoiding his touch in fear she might want to curl into the safety of his hold.
“Go figure. You stopped writing to me.”
“What?” Jacaerys stood in front of her, stopping her from stepping another step further from him, “I never stopped? What do you mean I stopped? I sent so many ravens to you. I never heard from you after the fourth or fifth one.”
Now she was confused. “I sent you ravens too! You never sent me any back, I waited… I figured you just blamed me for what happened,” she muttered.
Jacaerys did another click with his tongue, before he reached out to her, her small hands fitting perfectly well inside his.
“Whatever happened that night, it’s forgotten. We were children, you were not even there for me to blame you. Aemond being your brother changes nothing, I still care for you just as much as I did when I was a child.”
She tightened the hold of his hands between hers before looking into his eyes, all she found was a soft gaze, not anything that was malicious, as she would find mostly in Aemond’s eye.
She opened her mouth, then closed it, she did not want to tell him how she felt for him. It was like Jacaerys had read her mind, though he was one year behind her, he always looked after her, to Jacaerys - she was everything he wanted in a wife, and he dreamed of making her as such.
“I’ve missed you, did you not?” he lifted one hand to caress her braid that was left falling off her shoulder to slowly reaching for her cheek where he held her delicately once again.
Y/n smiled, the fluttering feeling in her stomach making it hard to not release a giggle, she felt home.
“Of course I did Jace, I missed you so much.”
Ser Arryk spoke from the entrance of the garden, his armor glittering with the rays of the sun reflecting it, “Princess? The queen is expecting you in the grand hall.”
She nodded, feeling regretful of not spending more time with Jace, she had so much to tell him, to get caught up on.
“Thank you Ser Arryk, I will be there in a minute.”
She looked towards Jace again finding him still looking at her, a glint of mischief flashed, she narrowed her eyes making him smirk, “I guess you have to go aunt.”
The way he said it made her want to clench her thighs together, she cleared her throat, “I’ll see you soon my dearest nephew.”
He laughed like the word from her mouth was the biggest joke he had heard. His curls bouncing with the shake of his body, he reached down for her hand, placing a lingering kiss, “Princess.”
She watched as he turned, walking towards the grand hall passing Ser Arryk who bowed his head. Her stomach was still fluttering, all she wanted to do was jump and roll in the comfort of her bed, but she needed to meet her family and yet again witness another rift between the family.
"Her children," a long pause echoed through the grand hall, Y/n had her hands interlaced with each other, squeezing them so hard her skin was becoming white. She quickly glanced around the room, noticing her brothers smirking with anticipation, to her half-sister's family. She came across the eyes of her prince, who looked seconds from using his sharp sword to kill. She licked her lips, the anxiety building, she knew what was coming, and honestly, she was looking forward to it.
"ARE BASTARDS! And she is, a whore," Vaemond exclaimed.
Echoes of gasps and murmurs were heard, but Y/n blocked it as it all happened quickly. The blood splattered harshly like a quick burst of wind splashing her dark emerald dress. She gasped, her body being pulled back by Aegon who quickly acted to wipe off the blood off her dress and the little that landed on her face.
She would lie if she said she did not enjoy what she saw, in fact, she was glad it happened. That word being tossed around needed to be acted with a consequence, and she was proud of Daemon for warning those who followed Vaemond in speaking of her family that way.
The court ended and she was left rushed to her chambers, her ladies-in-waiting rushing to prepare a quick bath as her father requested them to have dinner together.
"You all can go," y/n spoke as she untied the laces off her dress.
"Princess-" Elydia, her closest handmaiden reached towards her to help her protested.
"Please, I need to have some moments alone, I will notify when finished."
"Princess."
She sighed, the weight on her shoulders becoming too heavy, she rolled her head side to side to relieve the pain. As she sunk into the rose-covered bath, moaning in bliss from the warmth she was sunken into, a knock was heard from her bed chamber. A familiar series of knocks, one that she missed hearing, sparking a rush of adrenaline.
She rushed to throw on a light blue gown, her hair soaking the silk material, making her breasts noticeable. Her footsteps were rushed as she reached the familiar wall by her bed, she knocked a similar tune before she pushed into it.
Jacaerys stood behind the wall, in his hands laid a wooden box with letters, her letters.
"Hi," he spoke softly, his voice sending butterflies all over her body
"Hi," she moved aside to let him enter her room, her eyes flickering quickly to the door of her room before eyeing the male before her, "What are you doing here? If my guards, see you... the scandal we could be in!"
He smirked, his plum juicy lips - she did not want to stare so much but she could not help observing him - quirked to the side, "That did not stop us when we were children."
She scoffed, "You said it yourself when we were children."
He smiled mockingly before he stopped in his tracks. He did not expect to see her so... vulnerable. The fantasies started to play out in his mind, he recalled all those moments he thought of her late at night. The fire ignited inside of him when he saw her in the garden, her hair flowing through the wind, her soft features to her soft lilac eyes.
Jacaerys wanted to propose to her mother a betrothal, to finally make y/n his, to act out all the fantasies he thought when she appeared in his mind.
"Jace?" She whispered, feeling self-conscious about the way he stared at her. He looked ready to bounce, his brown eyes scanning her up and down, she squeezed her thighs together.
"You... aunt I can see you wholly," he cleared his throat to avoid his voice sounding so raspy.
"Excuse me?" Y/n was confused until he gestured to her body, "Oh... Oh!" Her cheeks blossomed with a deep scarlet red tint; she rushed across the room to grab her robe tightly wrapping it around her body.
Jacaerys cleared his throat again, "Um... I just wanted to stop by before we saw each other at dinner again, the letters you had sent me."
Her cheeks still stained with red walked towards him, gathering the box between her hands, "So what with it?"
"I received and sent you letters y/n. I never stopped writing to you, I even made Mother annoyed with how many times I have asked her if there was ever anything sent to me."
She blinked her confusion, "Jacaerys I always wrote to you, your letters never came but I always sent you updates how things were here - "
"I know of everything, but I am giving you complete honesty on the fact that I never stopped," he stepped towards her, his hand on her cheek with his thumb rubbing soft circles calming her.
"What do you want me to do with that information? Do you know how much our families hate each other? How much Aemond goes around cursing Luce's name, your name? I shouldn't even be talking to yo-"
She stopped when he stepped closer, she felt his breath on her lips, her eyes darted down his lips to his eyes. Her breath hitched, he was so close. So close, she just wanted to taste how soft his lips truly were.
"Tell me to go, and I will. I will never bother you again, but tell me, you never want to see me, and I will."
Jacaerys hoped she never spoke of the words, as he wanted to kiss her, to tell her of the once confession he wrote in those many letters. She was just so pretty; he wanted to steal her and take her to Dragonstone where he wanted to marry her. He wanted to taste the sweetness between her legs, to have her scream, moan out his name, to fill her belly with the future heirs of Westeros.
His hand stayed on her cheek as he continued to stare, waiting for her to speak. Her breaths came out shallow and she began to shake with need.
"Don't go," she whispered, her hands reaching to grab his shoulders, pulling him closer towards her, "Please don't leave me."
"Gods," he wrapped his arms around her as he shakingly asked her, afraid she will finally reject him, but he hoped, "Can I kiss you?"
She gasped, the dazed look in her eyes fading as she began to pull away, "No... No... we can't Jacaerys! We are not betrothed, we are not promised to each other, my virtue could be quest-"
Her rambles were left to the old gods to wonder as Jacaerys placed his lips on her, "No offense, but you talk a lot."
She groaned against his lips at the jab he made but melted into the kiss, a kiss she longed for as the feelings that she did not want to admit surfaced. She only read books about the acts of kissing, yet she felt as if she knew with the way she kissed Jacaerys.
Her core suddenly felt tingly with how he was holding her, his hand deep inside her hair as the other ran down the silk of her gown to hitch a leg around his waist as he guided her down her bed.
"Jace..." she moaned, her throat begging for air as she pulled away, yet he did not stop, his lips trailing down her cheeks, prepping her with soft kisses to finally nipping at her throat. She moaned again.
"I have always wanted to do this," he whispered against her throat, "I badly want to take you, to have you sore, so fucked out of your mind that you forget your own name," he raised his head, his elbow by her head to prep himself just so he can look down at her.
She breathed heavily, "You..." she reached out, "You can't..."
"I would never dishonor you that way, but I will fight to make you, my wife. I will speak to mother, to my grandsire."
"Jace..."
He placed a kiss on her nose, smiling when she let out a giggle, "Tell me you also want me."
"I never wanted to admit it, but I do, I have always wanted you."
A knock disturbed their sweet bubble, and they both scrambled away from each other as y/n pulled her gown down. Jacaerys grabbed his cloak she did not even realize he had removed as he moved to the secret passage again.
"Princess? The queen requests your presence, dinner will start shortly."
She looked at Jacaerys as he whispered, "I will see you soon aunt." Y/n rolled her eyes but still smiled as she nodded.
The wall closed, and as if nothing happened, the room became quiet once again, she gathered her thoughts as she replied, "Almost done, please help me dress Elydia."
The entire time she was prepped for dinner she was smiling to herself. She could not wait to see her prince again. She had even requested for her hair to be loose, just two small braids creating a crown decorated her. She had wanted to look perfect for him.
Dinner was awkward, to say the least. Her family was beyond divided, as she sat beside Helaena, it was too quiet, the only noises came from the cooks who were walking around to place the food on the table. She watched as Aemond sent nonstop glares towards her nephews.
She had found out through Helaena that Aemond had lost against Jacaerys during training. Jacaerys had taken his sword one minute into sparring. It finally made sense why Aemond was so upset when she came across him in the garden. Her lips tugged into a quiet snicker at the idea of her brother being put in his place.
As she drank her wine, her father spoke.
"It pains me to see our family divided. As the house of the dragon, we must be united to have the kingdom prosper in peace. All of you must leave behind your childish arguments! Do it for me, your father, your brother, your husband, your grandsire. Leave behind this anger!"
As her older sister stood to make a toast in hopes of making peace with her mother, she made eye contact with Jacaerys who was already looking at her. He smiled softly at her before he looked towards his mother, his mouth turning into a smirk as he hid it behind his glass of wine. Her eyebrows furrowed, and as she was going to question her sister's voice came through.
"... It has been decided for the good of our families, and to make the future of House Targaryen stronger, that Princess Y/n, and my son, Prince Jacaerys be wed. They shall be in the future the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."
Alicent shot up from her chair, "What?!"
Viserys wheezed but held strong as he banged his hands onto the table preventing an argument once again, "I wholeheartedly agree to this proposal as my dearest grandson himself asked to be wed to my beautiful daughter. They are to be wed as soon as possible."
Y/n couldn't help but smile widely, "Thank you, father," she looked towards her oldest sister, "Sister."
"Har! Har! Har!" Daemon raised his glass with a mischief glint in his eyes, his mouth into a wide smirk, he enjoyed seeing Alicent and Otto Hightower's plans get ruined.
Her mother could not argue against the newest betrothal since the King had officially declared it. She also had made peace with her once close friend as they toasted to each other. However, that did not stop her brothers from having a mind of their own, their mouths ready to retaliate.
As the night passed, and her father was no longer there to hold the peace, she held her breath as she knew, no she felt the anger boiling from her family. Aegon was the first to let out jests, and with that followed Aemond who did not hold back.
Jacaerys stood, his hand slammed into his uncle's shoulders to sit him back onto his seat, "You will keep your mouth shut about my betrothed. Jest all you want about me, but my wife-to-be, you will keep shut. Understood?"
Aegon snickered, satisfied with the reaction, he lifted his hands up in surrender.
She did not want to admit how it ignited such a need for her soon-to-be husband. She has never found him any hotter than what he looked like. His curls covered his dark gaze, his veiny long hands clasped together as to hold himself back.
"Boys. Enough. Let's finish dinner without any more arguments." Rhaenyra spoke in hopes of stopping the tension that was boiling.
It was enough for a moment. As Lucerys snickered at the pig that was placed on the table, in hopes for his uncle to join in the fun, as he believed it was an innocent act of jest. The blood came and what was a peaceful dinner, turned into the dragon's war.
"I dare you to say that again," Jace spoke from beside her, his hand holding hers to calm himself.
"Are you not proud of your house, dear nephew?" Aemond mocked, Aegon snickered, as the adults surrounding them stopped their dinner to hear what was going on, "I thought you considered yourself a strong knight."
A growl-like rumble came from Jacaerys as he rushed to punch her brother over and over. She scrambled towards them, yelling for them to stop, Aemond had gotten two hits through, but Jacaerys had the upper hand as his knuckles were bloodied. The guards had come to pull her brothers and nephews apart.
"Enough! All of you, back to your chambers! Now!" Rhaenyra spoke, sending them to their rooms. Y/n felt the angry tears stream down from the exhaustion of the fights between her family.
She yelped when a hand pulled her into the shadows of pillars. With a scream stuck in her throat, she widened her eyes at Jacaerys who had his hand on her mouth to stop her from screaming.
"Come back home with me, we will marry before the old gods," he whispered.
"But if I leave, I can potentially make mother and grandsire even more mad..."
"You are already promised to me, the realm will soon learn of it, ravens are being sent as we speak. Nothing will be able to stop our union, please. Just come home with me."
She hoped she was not making a mistake, for she loved Jacaerys so much more than waiting around for her family to come between her happiness. She only hoped, this union, would unite the realm and stop any possible war that Helaena had spoken of. As she kissed Jacaerys in the shadows, the said sister smiled as she poked another thread into a gown to continue the embroidery.
"From the blood of red and green, the pain will end as the union will bring peace once again."
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hellishjoel · 7 months ago
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reborn
1.4k / pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader
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summary: Joel’s long hair is a testament to a long life in Jackson, Wyoming. He hasn’t had time to get it cut since the birth of his daughter. 
warnings/information:  joel’s long hair appreciation post!!!!!, fluff, established relationship, a little swearing, soft!joel, girl dad!joel, jackson!joel, mother f!reader, ellie and joel are just fine okay!!, obvious maria appreciation, reader doesn’t have a physical appearance but has given birth
A/N: this is super short and I wrote it in 24 hours - you all know why we’re here, we saw that new picture of long haired joel miller and yadayadayada now we’re here! graphics by @saradika-graphics
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There’s a new baby in Jackson. 
One more teeny tiny resident. The population sign must be repainted to acknowledge its three hundred and fifth resident. 
And she’s your little girl. 
She’s not just perfect, she’s the center of your universe. Wrapped in a freshly hand-washed baby pink blanket, a testament to the hours of labor in Jackson’s makeshift delivery room. Joel held your hand throughout. 
This was his second child, but his first with you. The flood of emotions was overwhelming, and you promised to stand by him, even if you could never truly understand the pain tangled with newfound joy. 
But you should have seen the way his eyes softened at the first sight of her. Everything changed, for the both of you. His once-buried fatherly instincts took over, walking with the delivery nurse from your bed to the small cleaning station. He couldn’t let her out of his sight.
Already so protective and wound around her little finger from the moment she took her first breath and wailed her first cry. 
Scream it, little one, tell the world you’re here and that you’re ours. You are already so loved with your big glowing eyes and round cheeks, your small hands curled into your chest, and you kick your tiny little feet. Stomp, roar, live. 
You’re born into the most dangerous time in history, but your parents are here to protect you. The moment your baby girl was born, you and Joel were reborn. 
One month old, and nothing has changed. Except for your and Joel’s sleep schedules. Tommy gave Joel temporary leave from patrol duties, which Joel did not protest. He found it impossible some days to leave the house for food and supplies. 
Ellie was helpful. Despite no blood relation, she and Joel shared many qualities. She didn’t let you lift a finger if she could help it. She had moved into the garage a few months back. After all, she was a teenager who loved having space.
“You sure you don’t just wanna move back inside the house, Ellie?” She was here more often than not, and her company and help were dearly appreciated.
“And wake up to a crying baby twelve times in the middle of the night? I love you guys, but no thanks,” she teased as you playfully rolled your eyes. 
“That’s fair. But the offer still stands.”
Ellie shrugs nonchalantly and lands beside you on the couch, laying her head on your shoulder as you both stare lovingly down at the baby sleeping soundly in your arms. 
“I know, but you should make my old room the baby’s new one. Besides, Joel just set up my stereo, and I blast that thing non-stop. No baby is gonna like that.” 
“Oh, trust me, we know.” You whisper as you kiss the top of her head, your cheek nudging against her brunette tresses tied back into a ponytail.
Ellie cooks some sort of monstrosity in the kitchen upon Joel’s return from Tommy and Maria’s. He holds piles of Maria’s hand-sewn diapers and onesies. She was a God send, a woman you consider a Jill of all trades. 
Oh, Maria. She always desired that Jackson would not fall into turmoil like most of the country had surely found its way to. In her eyes, Jackson would remain a thriving and welcoming community to those who were good of heart. 
That woman worked to the bone to ensure that Jackson’s residents were safe and happy. Living here was like living in a snow globe, safe from the outside world and protected from danger. 
As the de facto leader of the Jackson settlement, she wore many hats. From trading and supplies to security and community welfare, Maria made it her mission to ensure that all new families found their new home in Jackson to be an inviting one—a safe haven from their old lives and here to start anew. 
“Maria bartered for new cotton,” Joel whispers as he enters the living room, quiet so as not to stir the baby. 
“She did?” You ask softly, sitting up slightly as you feel his hand cup your cheek from above, tilting your head back so he can give you a proper kiss. 
“Yeah, she was gonna try and find somethin’ alternative to cotton for the diapers, but they set her up with some scavenged materials and clothing to make lots of diapers out of. Plus, gave her some stuff to cultivate it here. Y’know, be self-sufficient.” 
“Wow,” you mutter tiredly, rubbing at your eyes as your daughter begins to twitch in your arms. “I think she hears her daddy’s voice.” 
Joel cooes softly, quick to drop the items off on the kitchen counter with haphazard abandon. He grunts quietly as his knees scream for rest until he sits beside you on the couch with open palms. You delicately hand him the baby, and his eyes twinkle at the sight of her. He was adorably cute when he baby-babbled, though he swears he never does. 
“Hi sweet wittle girl, pretty pwincess, did you have a good day with mommy?” 
It takes you this long to realize how much his hair has grown out. Your fingers softly weave into the greying curls, twirling one around your finger before you let it fall into its natural waves. 
“It’s so long, baby,” you whisper like honey.
He lets out a quiet chuckle and absentmindedly leans into your touch. “I’know. Haven’t had time to get it cut,” he turns his attention back to the little girl swaddled in his arms, “and I think I know who’s been keepin’ me so damn busy.” 
You hum and gently clutch the curls at the nape of his neck, truly in awe of how long they were. You’ve never seen him let it get this long. As Joel would say, this is Tommy long. But was there really a look he couldn’t pull off?
“I, uh, I don’t want you to cut it.” Your words come off shy and sweet, making him melt as he slowly turns to look at you with a raised brow. 
“Is that so?” His southern twang rolls freely off his tongue. 
“Mhm, you look so handsome. I think I would cry if you got rid of that thick mane of yours.” 
He chuckles again, a low and sultry one. “Alright. I’ll keep puttin’ up with it.”
“Mmm, please do. It’s sorta doin’ somethin’ for me.” 
Joel pauses and watches as the aging sunlight shines over your face. He takes your hand in his large calloused one and squeezes, circling his thumb along your wrist. “You’ve given me a life I sometimes don’t feel like I deserve. A happy one. I don’t think there’s a way I can ever say thank you or I love you enough for how my life has turned out. Without you, I might be dead.”
“Oh, Joel,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against his own, both of your eyes falling closed. “You are deserving of every moment of happiness in this life. You make my life worth living. You saved us.” 
Joel lets out a wet chuckle, kissing the tip of your nose before meeting your lips delicately. 
In this light, the amber glow of the sun setting just beyond the walls outside, he’s so handsome. It truly makes your heart skip a beat. After all these years of pain, loss, and suffering, Joel is happy. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to make him. 
During the first few weeks in this new and unfamiliar settlement, Joel would shoot up in the middle of the night, upset that he had fallen asleep. He hadn’t slept in a home with four solid walls in so long, none of you had. You remember the first night he slept soundly, snoring like a madman and nuzzling into his pillow. He was safe. There were no clickers in waiting, no scavengers to fend off. His people were protected. He could breathe. 
Never did you once think that at the ends of the world, there would be room for you to feel like this. Reborn. It led you to Joel and Ellie and continued with your baby girl. Your lives are getting a second chance. 
You didn’t know how long it would stay like this because nothing was forever. But you would wake up tomorrow morning and run a hand through Joel’s hair, through the pretty curls that tickled his neck, and the opportunity for it to keep growing would be another sign that your lives weren’t ending. They were only just beginning.
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wordsinhaled · 4 months ago
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thinking about payneland from the perspective of a pining charles having fallen first the night they met in the attic is wild because like
he meets this boy who is incredibly soft and kind to him, comforts him, protects him from being scared as he’s dying
and everything’s a bit hazy anyway and you know, why not, why not, why not. so charles is all, “i think i’d miss kissing. do you miss kissing? 👀”
genius really. except edwin is like, no
so charles is like ok, never mind, no worries, fine. just misjudged it a bit, didn’t i. not to worry. still, i really like spending time with you, let’s stay together forever, yeah?
he dedicates himself to being the best friend edwin could possibly ask for. edwin doesn’t seem interested in anyone in any way, really. maybe edwin’s just like, above all of those things. or doesn’t care for them. that happens! charles gets it! anyway edwin’s only the best person anyone could even imagine spending an afterlife with, so it doesn’t much matter
and for thirty years it really doesn’t matter, except in tiny moments when charles maybe lets a little too much adoration bleed into the looks he gives edwin, which is fine because edwin is giving him the same type of looks back and it doesn’t have to be anything, it’s just how they are. and if he sometimes has to shake himself to keep from staring at edwin’s bare forearms when they’re relaxing in the office, well. that’s not for edwin to worry about. it doesn’t matter what kind of love it is, charles feels them all for edwin and he knows edwin loves him too
but then they go to port fucking townsend
and suddenly it’s very clear edwin is capable of those types of feelings. of being flustered and lost in daydreams and shy around someone the way you are when you’re interested. edwin is doing all of those things - and it’s not directed at charles. it’s directed at monty. at the cat king
not that he should have presumed. after all edwin can and should go on and like anyone he wants. it’s his right and edwin certainly deserves his chance at happiness, after everything he’s been through. but there had been this tiny, tiny part of charles that had always thought “if edwin ever did have those types of feelings, they would be for me”
and all of a sudden it’s like. all of charles’ pining could actually come to fruition, except it won’t because edwin has somehow chosen monty and his astrology books. because some whiskery tosser has gotten his claws into edwin and much as charles postures he won’t dare actually pry them out because he doesn’t want to interfere in edwin’s fulfillment
charles is right here, has been right here for three decades - being content for the most part, except in fleeting moments when it got to him. and it would be fine if edwin simply chose someone else - natural even - but the part scrambling charles’ brain is that it feels like edwin hasn’t even considered him. never mind that charles has got an entire elaborate plan for how he’d court edwin if edwin ever gave a singular sign that he welcomed it. but instead edwin has chosen this time to wake up to his feelings and entirely overlook charles as a romantic prospect
charles is not going to be a miserable arse about it. he’s going to be supportive. he’s going to be nice to bloody monty because monty has apparently unearthed feelings in edwin. feelings edwin deserves to have. and if he’s honest, he has to give the lad some credit for managing to find a side of edwin charles has yearned quietly for for three decades in a matter of weeks - just by being forward with edwin in a way charles wouldn’t dream of trying
anyway imagine charles’ utter confusion and disbelief when edwin is all, “actually it is not monty i am in love with at all, but you, charles”
and charles is just like, “but i thought you and him were…? you said… i mean—you don’t even notice me that way!”
“i must assure you i do.”
and then he gets to have a kiss that he has waited for and hardly let himself want properly for thirty years
like……. PINING CHARLES, MY FRIENDS
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yestrday · 2 months ago
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: ̗̀➛ DESPERATION INCARNATE yan! xiao / gn! reader
in every life, he had sworn to protect you. in every life, he had failed. in this life, he'll make sure that it won't happen again. to keep the you in this life from ever slipping away from him like you did so many times before.
in which xiao falls in love with you in every life and slowly goes insane.
( reincarnation au, w4r, lots of blo0dshed and decápitation, graphic description of vi0lence, mention of xiao's sl4very, deáth... lots of it, sort of enabler aether but for a lil bit, the beginnings of a yandere, angst. lots of it as well )
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“you know, yéyé says that if you make a wish on a dandelion seed, then your wishes will come true!”
the unnamed adeptus fixes his golden gaze on a fellow prisoner, sitting across from him with a bright smile. the prisoners around them have given up already, with their dull, glazed eyes and the repeated prayers of deàth spilling from their cracked lips. but this odd one, although their face caked with grime and their hair matted from bloòd, smiles at him from the darkness.
“... dandelion seed?” he goes, not bothering to wince or be embarrassed by his raspy voice. this dull life strips you of your dignity and pride. there’s no use in saving face when you’re looking at deàth right in the eyes. “i have never heard of such a thing.”
“oh, you don’t know?” the little prisoner cocks their head at him. “it’s a curious thing! it’s a flower with fluffy petals covering the middle part. yéyé said that whenever he takes a walk on the borders between liyue and mondstadt, he’d pick some for himself and make a wish!”
the adeptus scoffs. “wishes have no place in my world. actions must be taken if you want results. your grandfather sounds foolish. now be quiet, lest you want the god to take care of that noisy tongue of yours.”
his fellow mate sticks said tongue out at him and gives him a dirty glare. “how rude! my yéyé is the smartest one in our village, you know. he takes a record of all the crops harvested. he’s veeery important! besides, don’t you want to know what he wished for?”
he sighs. it wouldn’t hurt to indulge this one’s yapping for a little more time. the painful groans were starting to take a toll on him and conversation, no matter how foolish the premise sounded, was a nice change of pace. even if his throat was hurting from use because of the god’s neglect to give them drinkable water. “what is it, then?”
they grin at him. “he wished for mondstadt’s harsh winds to disappear! isn’t he cool?”
“why wouldn’t he use the wish for himself?” he cocks his head. “it seems to be more efficient and logical.”
the little prisoner stares at them from behind their bars.
“... what.”
“you are so dull to talk to.”
ugh, this little—! they were the one who started the conversation! before alatus could snap something back, they fall back dramatically and shake their head at him in a pitying manner. “wishes aren’t made to be efficient and logical, stupid! they won’t always work! that’s why they’re just wishes!”
he decides that this thing is absolutely aggravating to talk to, but he won’t deny that he likes their company. “then what’s the use of doing something so useless?”
they laugh. it echoes through their cell, a pleasant tune before it escapes through the bars and gets lost in the sad symphony of groans and lifeless pleas. they continue to laugh like they were underneath liyue’s vast blue skies instead of an underground tomb. “isn’t it obvious, mister adeptus? it’s for hope!
“if you wish on a dandelion and blow the seeds away, your wish will be carried for all of teyvat to hear! and then– and then! even if it’s just a teeny bit of hope, you’ll start to feel that everything can be possible!”
“sounds inefficient.”
“that’s why i said you’re so dull to talk to.”
“hmph.”
“i don’t understand why you keep coming back down here, mister adeptus,” comes the familiar cheery voice of his once prison mate. the surrounding cells are all empty, filled with corpses of the dead long gone. the young god has no time to spare any thought for the useless mortals hanging in his underground prison. the adeptus slides a tray of milk and bread between the bars and into the lap of a grinning face.
even you, he thinks as he examines their sallow face and dry lips. you have been forgotten.
 “you have plenty of companions upstairs. shouldn’t you be celebrating and parading around with them? i heard through the cracks that you’ve got plenty of rice wine to waste.”
“they are not my companions,” he snaps, but they don’t flinch as they snack on the food. “they’re fools who waste their time mindlessly partying and deriving pleasure from the pain of the weak. and i’m… i am nothing more than the god’s plaything.”
he sinks to the ground, sighing. “... [your name],” he whispers, staring at them tearfully from behind bars. “i will get us out of here, i promise.” his hands, shaking and caked with blood, gently reach for their cheek. it’s rough and awfully thin, and something in his chest breaks whenever he sees such a beautiful thing covered in dirt like they were nothing. “i’ll get you back to your village. i’ll make sure that you’ll see your grandfather and your siblings again.”
their hands squeeze his lightly, not having the energy to reciprocate his tenderness like they used to. “i know,” they whisper back to him. they smile up at him, though it is now weak and shaky. “... your hair is green.”
his brows knit together in confusion, but they brush back a few stray strands and smile at the feel of it in their palm. “... i’ve never seen a dandelion, you know. but my yéyé says that dandelions are green. i don’t know if it’s this shade of green but…” you close your eyes and chuckle. “it’s nice to know that i have my own dandelion right in front of me.”
“...?!”
“my dandelion… i have a wish to make,” you mumble to him. alatus closes in, ready to serve you your heart’s deepest desires.
“anything… anything you want, [your name], i’ll make it come true. so…!”
“smile for me, will you?” you peer up at him, watching confusion take over his delicate yet rough features. “you always look so sad. as my dearest friend…
“my only wish is that i see you smile. even if it’s just once.”
the adeptus returns the next day, milk and bread on a tray once more. they are wasted on the floor.
a corpse smiles from the shadows of the cell.
he thinks back to the wish he couldn’t fulfill yesterday. try as he might, it’s hard to stretch his lips into a genuine smile.
maybe it’s because he’s collapsed on the ground, yelling in pain as his whole world blissfully sleeps in the corner.
maybe it’s because whenever he tries to smile, it doesn’t feel right.
not when there’s no one to smile for anymore.
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the end is nowhere in sight, yet rex lapis keeps pushing forward.
alatus’ spear plunges into the guts of the demons, spurting black blood over his lithe body as he pulls it out. around him, his fellow yakshas are also hard at work. bosacius tears bodies apart with his four bare hands, splattering more blood and leaving a gruesome sight behind. menogias clicks his tongue and furrows his eyes at the electro yaksha in disapproval.
“can’t you be a bit more graceful, bosacius?” he steps out of the way as bonanus and indarias team up to fling a particularly mighty foe across his way. “these corpses are dismal to look at!”
bosacius laughs boisterously, hoisting an enemy up in the air and cracking their skull on a rock in one fell swoop. “i can’t be bothered, brother! this is the way bosacius fights! with bare hands and strength! corpses are not meant to be looked at anyway!” crack. crack. the gruesome sounds of his fighting are lost in the sounds of war around them.
with a clever twist of his body, alatus sends a corpse to the four-handed idiot to which he skillfully catches without even sparing a glance. “less talking, more fighting,” he says ever so curtly. “rex lapis requires our immediate assistance. do not dally.”
bosacius and menogias send each other a knowing glance, quite familiar with alatus’ undying loyalty to their senior adeptus. the fighting continues and alatus continues to let himself get lost in the chaos, never minding the mysterious ache that binds his chest tighter and tighter with every demon purged. when the battle is won, no one celebrates. it’s hard to, when you feel the blood of the thousands you have massacred drying on your skin. alatus approaches rex lapis, his toned back shadowed by the rising sun as he overlooks the aftermath of the war.
“you’ve fought well, alatus,” rex lapis’ deep voice acknowledges him, brown eyes still steady on the horizon. “you do well to keep the contract.”
“i do not need a contract to serve you, rex lapis,” alatus starts humbly, lowering his gaze in respect. “i owe you my freedom and life.”
“you say that, yet i now have you enslaved to kill for another cause. to me, there is no difference.” rex lapis casts a glace on his most loyal follower. “yet you say that i have given you freedom.”
alatus takes note of the dry bitterness underneath rex lapis’ otherwise gravel tone. “i have signed the contract of my own free will,” he professes, daring to gaze his golden eyes into his lord’s similar ones. “you need not worry about me, my lord.”
rex lapis chuckles, before beckoning alatus to his side. “look at her harsh winds and cold peaks,” the senior adeptus muses. “our nation is blessed with vast plains and tall mountains, but our neighbors shoulder the bitter cold while fighting their side of the archon war.”
“indeed,” alatus could only say. “but your victory is sure now, my lord. soon you will rebuild liyue to glory once you’ve taken the seat of the seven.”
“mmm, yes,” rex lapis hums. “the war nears its end. seven victors from different nations, including bitter and wintry mondstadt. i wonder what sort of archon will rise from mondstadt. our borders are joined together— while violetgrass root themselves on the stony sides of our mountains, their dandelions withstand harsh winds even as their seeds threaten to fly. perhaps their new archon can give them a home where they can grow unbothered, while i build our citizens to be as resilient as a violetgrass.”
… dandelions…
“apologies for the unnecessary question, my lord, but… have you seen a dandelion?”
“oh, they’re curious little things indeed. native to mondstadt. if guizhong had time, she used to walk by the borders and pluck them to make a wish.”
alatus’s breath hitches at the familiar tale. “... what did she wish for, if i would be permitted to know?”
rex lapis’ lips turn into a half-smile, hardened eyes softening at the memories of a dear friend long gone. “she wished for liyue to prosper under my rule. never used a wish on herself.”
“... huh.” the wind blows back alatus’s matted hair, revealing forlorn eyes as they gaze at the sun. “... i wonder why they all do that.”
“does this all sound familiar to you, alatus?” the younger adeptus looks up to see his lord gazing at him with a soft look. alatus shakes his head and straightens his back, taking on the stance of a soldier once again.
“no. this is not the time for me to be concerned with another nation’s trivialities.” he bows his head to the adeptus and starts to make his exit. he doesn’t know why, but a gloved hand takes one of the stray strands of hair self-consciously and turns back to rex lapis. “another question… if i may be so impudent to ask.”
“impudence is not a word to be used on you, alatus. go ahead.”
for a moment, alatus’s confused and conflicted face makes him look like the young adeptus rex lapis saved from the hands of a cruel god. now he is not a battle-hardened soldier, but a lost boy who doesn’t know what to do. “... is the shade of my hair… similar to that of a dandelion?”
the older adeptus cocks his head at the unusual question. “far from it, no.” he studies alatus’s look of disappointment as he lets go of the strand. “why do you ask?”
“... nothing, my lord.”
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moments of respite like this are rare in this current era of warfare, so soldiers cherish every single second of it. but for alatus who has only known bloodshed ever since his days at the mercy of the young god, this temporary peacefulness is a waste of time. in a camp just outside of liyue harbor, alatus and his fellowmen idle around a crackling campfire.
“you’re too fidgety, alatus-gē,” pervases laughs as he takes a bite out of his grilled ticker fish. he raises one to alatus’s face. “care for one?” when the senior adeptus scowls and turns his head away, he shrugs and scoffs it down stick and all in one gulp. “more for me then.”
“those malevolent gods continue to let their underlings rampage as we sit here and idle,” alatus frowned at the seemingly peaceful campsite of his fellow yakshas and even a few outstanding mortal warriors. “we should be making plans and calling reinforcements. the war will not end unless we bring that monster down to its watery grave.”
“oh my,” comes a motherly sigh. a young woman with silvery gray hair smiles slyly at alatus. her slender figure stretches across the log serving as a seat in front of the campfire, the cleansing bell tinkling delicately at her side. “you youngsters are quite eager to get into danger these days. not everyone has the energy to keep battling, you know? why i—” she sighs mournfully, pressing her fingers to a supple cheek “— even i need my beauty sleep. charging into the fray daily with no rest is just too much!”
“ping,” he addresses the newcomer. “i see that you are as vain as ever. if you’re not willing to put your all into this war, why did you even enter the contract?”
“i am upholding my end of the contract,” huffs ping. “but only within reason! you’re the one who’s out of reason.” she waves him off with her hand, shooing him off like a stray dog. “take a walk or something. call it a night patrol to ease yourself. i’m afraid your scowl is going to affect me and give me wrinkles.”
alatus takes a good moment to ponder the suggestion before he feels ping’s eyes narrowing at him threateningly. with a deep sigh, he takes his spear with him and teleports himself to a quiet walkway some ways off the guili assembly. war had touched this side of liyue too, it seemed, with swords rusted with blood plunged to the ground and tattered kerchiefs belonging to soldiers waving solemnly in the air. alatus knows this place to once been the safe haven of rex lapis and the late guizhong’s people before the war took the sweet goddess’ life and perished her to dust. now it is mere ruins, a reminder of the evil deities are willing to commit for power.
alatus has years of battle experience under his belt, but it doesn’t make the feeling any better as he stares at these relics. he focuses his gaze on the moon and walks by.
… rumble rumble…
a weathering wall shakes just a few steps away, alerting alatus’s senses. he quickly arms his spear as he vigilantly approaches the spot. the place is teeming with ruin guards and other dangerous mechanisms and although mindless machines are no match for him, alatus is not one to underestimate an opponent. when he peeks around the corner, it is not the eerie glowing eye of a machine but a pair of eyes about to glaze over.
covered in soot and dirt, a raspy voice tries to speak out, “w… wa… ter…”
alatus blinks in surprise when he finds a human instead but quickly teleports somewhere to get drinkable water. in a moment, he appears again in front of them and swiftly tips the saucer into their mouth. gently lifting their head, he watches as they desperately glug down the water. some of it spills from the sides, but the light in their eyes quickly revives until they pull away with a gasp.
“ugh… ha! i thought i was a goner there!”
alatus freezes.
two shining [eye color] eyes peer up at him gratefully as a wide grin spreads across their face.
“thanks a lot, mister adeptus.”
they are escorted into liyue harbor. alatus does not talk to them or even spare them a glance, afraid of whatever feelings that may arise should he do so. he’s aware of the curious glance they send his way, scrutinizing his every inch. he doesn’t like how they stare at him with awe and absolute trust. this is an era of warring gods, where adepti like him dig into flesh and blood to pursue their ambition. fools who cling to whoever feeds them die easily.
they continue staring. it feels like fire as his guilt and memories long pushed away pour from his heart and threaten to consume him whole. his steps feel heavier, as if any second now and the earth will cave in and send him straight to hell. unconsciously, his eyes glance back to them and they… smile.
it hurts.
flashes of a corpse long gone come back to him and he tears his eyes away. he shakes this haunting feeling away, yet their stare that bears the weight of decades' guilt continues to burden him all the way to camp.
"ping," he says gruffly, catching the attention of the group. everyone's a bit startled at the arrival of a newcomer, a dusty and malnourished one at that, but even more so that alatus decided to trek uphill instead of just conveniently teleporting himself. "take care of this one," is all he curtly says before plopping down underneath a tree and closing his eyes.
ping huffs in disdain and gives him a dirty look, but quickly changes it to give the newcomer a warm smile. “come now, sweetie,” she coos, placing a comforting palm on the small of their back and escorting them to the bonfire. “you’re positively shivering! it makes sense, given that that yaksha’s always so cold.” at this alatus grunts, but she doesn’t pay him any mind. “here’s some soup and a blanket to cover you with. my gosh, you’re so dirty! what have you been doing? playing around in the mud?”
you eagerly take her up on her offer, and soon you’re swaddled in a thick blanket and bowl of carrot soup to enjoy in front of the fire. “i was actually studying some of the leftover ruins at the assembly. i thought that maybe i could get some useful things and use them for myself.”
ping gasps dramatically at your story– a young adult scrapping for leftovers in the middle of the war– and alatus rolls his eyes. “poor, poor thing!” she cries and draws you in for a hug. “don’t worry. here at morax’s camp, you won’t have to suffer through that anymore! you’ll be cared for until we can find a suitable place for you and the other survivors to live!”
you laugh. “i think you have the wrong impression, ms. adeptus, i’ve had it pretty easy compared to others during this war. what i’ve been scrapping are materials!”
ping cocks her head, and alatus even peeks out from the tree he’s hiding behind. “materials, darling?”
“yes! screws, tree bark, metal, you name it. i’m finding them so i can continue making my gadgets.” you fish into your bag, and they can hear the clanking of metal and other stuff as you sift through the mess. “ah, here it is, one of my favorites!” you pull out a curious box, the cuhui wood engraved with liyuean details. you gently snap the box open and reveal a little figurine made out of precious stone, frozen in an elegant twirl reminiscent of liyue’s traditional dances. you begin to crank the little knob at its side, and when you release it a pleasant tinkling of sounds fills the night air.
ping stares wide-eyed at the pretty treasure, listening to its sounds with a fond look on her face. even pervasive hums as he gnaws on his nth fish, his scratchy voice humming along with the old lullaby. other nearby campers close their eyes and let their minds wander for a while, to a place where lullabies such as this sang all day and wars didn’t raze grass and civilians to the ground. for a moment, they let themselves be deluded into a moment of peace.
when the tinkling fades away, only the crackling of the fire remains. “pretty, isn’t it?” it takes ping a moment to snap out of her trance before nodding enthusiastically.
“quite! oh, if it didn’t look so perfect slotted between your hands, i might have snatched it for myself! although,” she nervously chuckles, feeling the stern gaze of the silent adeptus lounging behind the tree. “i might not have the chance anyway. a certain someone has been glaring at me ever since i conceived the thought.”
“maybe he wants it for himself?” pervases jokes. “he could do with it, what with all that stress.”
“hmph, i’ve no need for such trivial things.” he goes back to resting against the trunk without another word.
ping sighs and shakes her head at you, like a disappointed mother. “he’s always like that,” she laments. “he’s morax’s most faithful servant, i’ll tell you that, but sometimes it makes me wonder what will happen after this war is over. surely he won’t be going around slaughtering monsters?!” she raises her hand to her mouth like the thought was too unforgivable.
pervases hummed, thinking hard and long about how his senior would act in a time of peace. “hmm… i think alatus-ge would like to fish. he seems like the type.”
the image of the bloody general fishing floats above your three heads. ping waves it away. “as if!” she scoffs. “he’d just spear the fish and be done with it!”
“what kind of person do you think alatus-ge is…?”
“alatus, alatus!”
something twists at his gut, a mix of anticipation and dread, but he stops in his tracks to wait for you. you catch your breath beside him. “you’re so fast for someone so short!” you complain. “how do you do it?”
“slowness isn’t an option on the battlefield,” alatus curtly says before turning to assess. you’re covered head to toe in dirt, and your fingers are covered in grime like you’ve been digging. he sighs and rubs a speck of dirt from your cheek. “another one of your foraging hunts? you can always tell me if you need something. it’s too dangerous outside the camp.”
“i used to tell you, didn’t i?” you pout. “but you can’t tell the difference between a cork and a screw!”
alatus blushes. he can’t really wrap his head around these machineries. whenever you and cloud retainer got into one of your excited conversations about tinkering and machinery, alatus could only pretend like everything you just said didn’t make his head spin. if you got into another of your rants about the intricacies of machines or whatever, everything you said went into one ear and out the other.
“but you still listen, don’t you?” ping and pervases teased him with knowing grins. he had hit them over the head after that.
“... tus! alatus! ugh, you’re not listening again!” you had gotten into a lecture of the differences between corks and screws, but now you shake him by the shoulder with furrowed brows. “you’re always like this. is machinery really too hard for you?”
“everyone has their strengths.” he ruffles your hair, smiling softly when you visibly relax. “you wouldn’t want me to tell you about how to efficiently kill geovishaps, do you?” when you make a face, he laughs slightly. “thought so.”
“they just… ugh. they just smell so bad!”
“... they smell like rocks.”
as the two of you finish the rest of his patrol, alatus doesn’t miss a moment to watch your every movement. here, under the red rays of dusk, you look so alive. your cheeks could be healthier, but alatus is comforted with the knowledge that you stuffed yourself full this morning. your eyes have a twinkle in them, not the last sparks of ember that you had tried to hold on for so long. and you smile… because you want to. not because you had to. not because you had to comfort your fellow friend in prison.
“looks like we’ve walked too far,” alatus comments, sighting the dandelions swaying in the distance. “we should head back to camp before it gets too dark.”
“oooh, dandelions,” you muse. you and alatus stand side by side, taking in the dandelions swaying in their pastel heads swaying in the wind. “i heard they were pretty, but seeing them in person is better.”
standing by your side, alatus takes in your countenance. there is an indistinguishable look in your eyes as you watch their seeded heads bob and sway, your smile somewhere between content and forlorn. the setting sun paints your face with an orange hue, only serving to make you look as if you’ve come out of an oil painting itself. alatus’s breath hitches and he tears his eyes away from you.
self-consciously, he rubs a teal strand of his hair before tucking it back. “do… does my hair…” you turn your gaze to him questioningly, and his pale face burns at the embarrassing predicament he’s put himself in. “does my hair look like the dandelions?”
you stare at him for quite some time, only blinking and not saying anything, before you tilt your head back and laugh. alatus’s face only reddens further and he hits you with his elbow in his embarrassment. you only continue to laugh, even as alatus is beginning to throttle you and beg you to pay no heed to his words. when you’re done laughing, alatus huffs at you and refuses to look at you.
“oh, you… silly adeptus, i would have mistaken you for a pure-hearted maiden there!” you giggle into your hand, and alatus’s brows knit themselves in huffiness as you continue to tease him. “come on, you have eyes. they’re not even close in color!”
he kicks you lightly in the shin, before turning around and walking off to the distance. “come on. let’s head to camp before night,” he says as if nothing’s happened. you stare at his back for a while, a teasing smile on your face, before shaking it off and hurrying to catch up to him. when you catch up to him, you leap at him with your arms around his neck, ruffling his hair with a bright smile on your face.
“don’t be too grumpy, alatus!” you laugh, even as he sends you a look of frustration. “once this is all over, we’ll come back to this place and make wishes on those dandelions!”
“don’t forget about me, mister servant,” you lightly laugh behind your bars. “bring me lots of food, okay? then once you get me outta here, we’ll have a big ol’ feast at my yéyé’s.”
one of the guards tug at alatus’s shackles but he clings to your cell even as they grunt and pull. “[your name], i’m not leaving you! i can’t! i won’t!”
you chuckle. “stupid mister adeptus. who’s going to swipe cake for me then? now go, shoo.” you wave him away, smiling weakly. “i know you’ll come back for me. you always will.”
you’ve always had a knack for being the unluckiest person alive. even if your smile was so bright that it seemed to ward off evil, tragedy always seemed to tightly coil around your neck like a noose. he wanted to be the one to cut it off, in both the last life and this.
once again, he always seemed to be too late.
“they’ve broken through the formation!” indarias yells, slamming a fiery fist through her enemies. the pyro-blessed yaksha, usually so playful and coy, looks at her comrades with panic. “there’s no one left at the camp to defend them anymore. they’re— they’re all—!” she swallows down the bitter reality, pervases and her other comrades’ gored bodies flashing through her mind. “the civilians can’t defend themselves from all those monsters!”
“shit.” menogias slices through a foe and turns to their youngest, standing atop a pile of bloodied corpses. karmic debt wraps him and the other yakshas like a dense fog, and it gets harder to breathe with every passing second. still, he calls out to him.
“alatus—!”
the young yaksha only spares him a golden glance, before slipping the bloodied mask on. “you don’t have to tell me twice.” and he disappears into the air.
you are not there when he reappears at the camp. no one is. everything is on fire, and he can barely see what’s in front of him thanks to all the smoke and ashes polluting the air. he hisses at the burning in his lungs, but he perseveres forward as he strains his ears for any signs of life. the faint clashing of weapons and maniacal laughter is far away, but they grow stronger as he continues.
he steps on something… fleshy. growing dread rises within him as he slowly looks down.
that… is a severed hand.
biting his tongue, he rushes forward through the sea of flames. more and more decapitated limbs and bodies litter the area. arms, legs, torsos, feet… the handiwork of psychopaths, no doubt. because an ordinary soldier would not do this. not to civilians. not to people who could not defend themselves. he sees no face to mourn for. he sees no head to remember.
roars of laughter peal through the air as he braves a wall of fire. as the sky is dyed red with both fire and dawn, alatus’ face pales when he sees the enemies marching around as they shout triumphantly into the chaos.
your head, beautiful as he had always remembered, parades past him on a wooden stake.
when karmic debt takes over, he doesn’t remember anything the next morning when he sobs and cradles your sleeping face, surrounded by the bodies of foes and allies alike.
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in your next life, you are both strangers. he looks high and low for you in liyue, but he does not find you.
celestia orders the seven archons to launch an attack on khaenri’ah, and alatus and whoever is left of the adepti is ordered by rex lapis to stand by in liyue and eliminate any escaped khaenri’ahns. although he has nothing against them, he is more than happy to follow his lord’s commands, because he has nothing else left to do but do his duty.
surely enough, the khaenri’ahns have found some escape route that leads up to liyue. unfortunately for them, alatus and the others are there to massacre them without hesitation.
in one of the escapees, his eyes widen behind his mask as he meets your scared eyes. in this life, they have diamonds in them, and they stare back at him with fear and unfamiliarity rather than mischief and friendliness. he thinks you still look beautiful.
even as he drives a spear through your chest.
when the massacre is finished, he tries to find your body. but there are too many of you, bodies upon bodies and the stench of death heavy in the air. he cannot find you, his pearl, in this bloody sea of corpses.
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years have passed, and he has not seen you since.
well, that would be a bit false. he does see you, but not… you. he does not walk with you in flower fields to admire your face bathed in sunlight nor does he watch you rummage through ruins for scraps of metal and machines. he does not idly chat with you behind bars to pass the time away nor does he help soft bread to your chapped lips as he comforts you with promises of your freedom and your yéyé.
he sees an image of you, the hallucination that his karmic debt has conjured for him in his nightmares. you smile at him ever so sweetly, joining him in his bed at wangshu inn. you’re always so pure and pretty in your nightdress when you sidle up to him to share in his warmth. but when you lean over to press a kiss to his cheek, alatus’ eyes shoot wide open as he feels your hand wrap around his neck and squeeze. he should fight, he could fight, but how could he? your face is twisted in hatred and disappointment, whispering to him about his betrayal and failure to save you. ‘you killed me, you left me, you fed me to the dogs.’
how could he fight back, when all you have said is the truth?
and so alatus, now named xiao, wakes up for another day drenched in his sweat and tears.
he is patrolling guili plains when he spots a familiar head of gold and the tinier head of white walking idly through the grasses. it’s not unusual for aether and paimon to be here, but they’ve thoroughly explored and exhausted this area of any treasures, and last he heard they were in fontaine. he hides away in a tree, observing their usual back and forth as they seem to wait for someone.
“like i’m saying, they’re an hour late!” paimon fumes, stomping the air as she throws a tantrum. “what if someone happened to them? oooh, paimon knew we should’ve picked them up from mondstadt! they’re always so clumsy!”
“oh, don’t get your crown in a twist, paimon,” aether says, nonchalant as ever. he glances towards xiao’s way and hums to himself, as if partaking in a fun little secret (he’s always been so perceptive, xiao muses), and takes a bite out of his sunsettia. “geniuses like [your name] are always like that. losing track of time, getting caught up in some curious thing they encountered on their way… they’ll be here soon, promise.” he hands out his half-eaten sunsettia to paimon. “sunsettia?”
“ew, gross! don’t hand paimon your leftovers!”
xiao perks at the familiar name, opening one eye as he lazily ruminates the familiar syllables in his head. [your name], [your name], [your name]... like he could ever forget that. he whispers it in his sleep, prays to your hallucination like a god, screams it every morning… [your name], [your name], [your name]... he watches aether finish his sunsettia and sighs to himself. he shouldn’t be silly. numerous people with your name have appeared in liyue ever since he’s last seen you, and not one of them was you. he shouldn’t get his hopes up.
“— iiii’mmm! so, so sorry!” a sobbed yelp breaks the peace of the plains from the distance. a hefty backpack overshadows the figure carrying it, running as fast as they can with the weight on them. they skid to a stop in front of the traveler and paimon, who greets the newcomer with an amused smile and a huffy face. the backpack ungracefully lands on the grass with a loud clang, and its owner falls alongside it as they try to catch their breath. “i’m so— huff— sorry! i was— hah— on my way here when i— huff— came across a travelling merchant. they had all these goods from fontaine and i— hah— couldn’t resist!”
paimon once again stomps the air. “well, you should try to be more mindful from now on! it’s rude!”
“i’m so~ory,” the eccentric figure whines pitifully. they rummage through their bag and pull out a pretty tin box, the kind used to store cookies. “forgive me, paimon?” in the usual paimon fashion, her eyes twinkle upon seeing the pretty sugar cookies stored inside, and upon the first bite all is finally forgiven.
“hm, is it just me or is someone watching us…?” they wonder, looking around the guili plains for any signs of life. “i feel this, uh, weird pressure. or am i just delusional…?”
when they turn, xiao catches their eyes through the canopy of leaves on the tree he’s occupying. his breath hitches, his eyes widen, and the world seems to halt to a stop.
you unknowingly lock eyes with the adeptus, cocking your head as you try to find the stranger peeking on your little group.
you blink when the pressure is finally gone, and you look back at the highly perceptive traveler in confusion. he only regards you with a small smile and shrugs.
“you’re awfully interested in the engineer, don’t you think?” aether playfully muses as he walks in on one of xiao’s rare times of relaxation. he lounges on wangshu inn’s balcony as he overlooks the scenery beneath him, almond tofu in hand. “why don’t you greet them for yourself then?”
xiao doesn’t spare him a glance as he brings a spoon of the silken food to his mouth. “unnecessary.”
aether rolls his eyes, taking the spot next to xiao as he studies the adeptus with a smile. “don’t be like that, you introvert. you’re always following us around while they go study liyue’s machines. i’m sure zhongli would be pleased to know that you have friends outside of us and the other adepti.” xiao scowls when aether uses his lord as a guilt trip, but doesn’t comment any further. “[your name]’s a wonderful person, if not a bit ditzy at times. i think they and cloud retainer would get aloong quite well if they ever met each other.”
he thinks back to your second life, where you chattered the night away with the crane adeptus about machinery and the like. bathed in the glow of the campfire, alatus would only dare observe from a distance as you talked passionately with stars in your eyes. aether observes as xiao’s eyes soften. “they did.”
the traveller huffs a laugh, slumping his cheek against the wooden railing as he looks out to the scenery too. “reincarnation, huh? there were things like that in other worlds as well.”
he’d never admit it, but he had always been pleased by the fact that aether had the shared experience of living for eras, if not longer. the other adepti were never close to humans, but aether and his sister had always walked alongside mortals in order to observe their stories. xiao lets the wind graze his cheek. “... did you ever have someone you wanted as well?”
“i made many friends but…” aether quirks a small smile, tapping his fingers on the wood lightly. “my sister was really all i needed.” he notes the hidden pain in his voice. “we’ve traversed many worlds together, and we will always have eternity together. but you don’t have someone like that.”
golden eyes meet golden, and xiao shudders at the sly look that aether gives him.
“well, unless you do something to change that.”
‘damn you, aether.’ the traveller’s always been sort of a bastard hiding behind gentle manners and a pretty smile, but he never thought that he’d stoop so low as to awaken the dark feelings that he’s kept repressed for so long. ‘sly dog.’ he makes a mental note to not react when aether calls for him next as some sort of petty revenge.
today, you are alone. your backpack is lighter, thankfully, otherwise you would not be able to travel through the huaguang stone forest’s cliffs and falls. he’s joined you on this journey since you started a few days back, but he continues to grow with paranoia every time he sees you walk too close to the edge. he’s also saved you a few times, summoning wind to stabilize a shaky glide or carrying you further away from the edge when you started rolling in your sleep.
his heart twists when he settles you back in your sleeping bag. he takes in your sleeping face, murmuring nonsense in your sleep, and the sides of his lips tug into an unconscious smile. you’ve always had that habit in the lives that he’s known you in, and he pushes aside the strands of hair to take a clearer look at your face. when the babbling subsides, your dopey grin relaxes itself, and the heartaches begin once again. so many times he’s watched over you like this, but the last time he had was… was when you were…
your face, peaceful and oblivious, overlaps to a bloody, dismembered one. xiao inhales sharply and shakes the image out of his head.
he starts with your cheek, caressing it softly with his calloused fingers as he revels in your warmth. they trace every feature— your fluttering eyelids, the in-betweens of your eyes, your twitching nose— until his thumb presses on your lip. this was not a luxury he could afford back then, but now, now.
‘i can protect you in this world.’ he thinks. his lips brush against yours, but he does not lean in further.
‘all my past transgressions, i will make it up to you.’
you smile in your sleep peacefully, just as you did... so many years ago.
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you appear in xiao’s dream once more.
it starts off the same as always. you are draped in fine liyue silk, batting those innocent eyes at him as you call him to your shared bed. he knows what will happen next, having relieved this for centuries on end. you will crawl upon him, you will wrap those hands around his neck, and you will admonish him. xiao stares at the alluring image of you and does not budge from the foot of the bed.
“[your name], come to me.” your image cocks its head in confusion, but you follow anyway. now that he’s met the real you, he can clearly see the difference. your hair isn’t that shade, your eyes are much too wide and— ah, his image of you has slowly been creeping away from his mind after years of separation. the thought of it twists his heart.
he watches you crawl over to him, tempting and innocent like a newly wed bride. you sit on your knees dutifully, awaiting his next command. he reaches out, strokes your hair— it’s not as soft as this in real life— and smiles darkly.
“i love you, [your name].”
you smile. “i know.”
“i always have. even after all these years.”
“i know.”
your eyes held so much light and passion than this blank-minded image of you. he inhales. “i’ll miss you.”
you furrow your brows, frowning in confusion at the sudden confession. “alatus, what are you talking about—?!”
xiao’s face is unmoving as he watches you choke on your blood, staring up at him wide-eyed as your hands shakily reach up to the spear embedded through your chest. “a– la– tus…?” he does not respond to your weak call, yellow eyes dull as you bloody his spear and heave with every gasp. “wh– how could…?”
“i’ve met you, [your name],” he whispers. he thumbs away the blood trickling from your lips. he breathes in slowly, knocking his head against yours. your image stares at him in betrayal and fear. “in this life, i’ve finally met you.” he feels your image dissipating and he brings you in closer. “finally. after all these years.”
“a… la… tus…”
“this time. this life. i promise you.” he entangles your bloody hand in his and presses a kiss to it. “we will finally be together.”
“no matter what.”
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ellecdc · 9 months ago
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hi lovie !
I ADORE your writing and get so excited everytime you post 😭
I wanted to ask if you’re okay with writing a poly!marauders x reader fic where r is an overthinker and over analyzes small things. It brings r to think the boys are mad at reader so r begins to close off— happy ending w/ healthy communication, just them reassuring r
🤍you can absolutely ignore this!!
thank you baby! I'm so glad to have you here with me 😭 thanks for your request 🫶
poly!marauders x fem!reader
CW: insecurities, overthinking, belief of conflict, eventual healthy communication skills, men behaving rationally (that's how you know it's fiction) jkjkjkjkjk 👀
You knew you were overthinking; you could actually hear yourself spiraling as you chewed aggressively on your cuticles. You ran through every single interaction you and the boys had throughout the past few days and couldn’t help but come to the same conclusion every time.
They were mad at you.
And even saying it aloud made you feel silly because, really, what could you have possibly done that would have managed to upset all three of them without knowing about it?
There had been a few disagreements between the four of you since the beginning of the relationship; more specifically since you had joined the relationship. 
The boys, it seemed, went through most of their more volatile fights prior to you meeting them. 
But that didn’t mean there weren’t arguments. There were always differences of opinions, some hurt feelings, and learning everyone’s sensitivities and love languages etc. didn’t happen overnight; it took time.
One thing you were particularly thankful for was that you had yet to ever feel like the boys were ‘ganging up’ on you. Your argument always stayed between you and the participant of the conversation and everyone else opted to stay out of it unless they felt they could provide some helpful insight. 
But for all of them to be mad at you without some big blow up happening? You couldn't imagine what would have caused it.
It wouldn’t have been anything you said or done to Sirius, as he was a very head strong person who preferred to face things upfront and head on. If you had done something wrong to Sirius, you would have heard about it. 
James was a wild card since he usually wore his feelings on his sleeve, but he also had a tendency to paint a smile on his face and smile through the pain in order to keep the peace. 
Remus was often stoic and the voice of reason, but you also knew he could be incredibly sensitive.
Oh god... had you done something to upset Remus? You must have...it’s the only rational explanation. He’d likely be telling Sirius not to say anything to you, and since Sirius struggled in biting his tongue, it would make sense that he opt for the “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all” route.
And though James did tend to smile through the pain in order to keep the peace, he was also fiercely protective of his people – particularly when those people don’t seem inclined to stand up for themselves.
Oh god. Is this why they asked you to come over tonight? They wanted to talk to you...no, they wanted to break up with you. 
By the time James opened the door, you had forgotten you even knocked. He was all bright smiles until he took in your form – he was disappointed to see you. 
“Hello, honey. Come on in.” He said, though his words were stilted, sounding oddly scripted and rehearsed. 
“Hey sweets!” Sirius called from somewhere in their flat, “have you eaten yet?”
“Yeah.” You called back, having to clear your throat when your voice came out gravelly. You could feel James’ eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.
“Moony’s running late from work, but he’ll be home soon.” James announced as he ushered you into the living room.
You scanned your surroundings, cataloguing everything like it might be your last time in here.
You found signs of Remus’ love of trinkets and the oddities everywhere you looked, as well as signs of James and Sirius feeding into that by bringing him home things they’ve found as well. There’s a small pewter fox you bought on your trip to the coast sitting on one of the shelves of his bookcase.
Picture frames lined the walls; evidence of Sirius’ love for photography, his camera, and his favourite people.
And the god-awful pillow James found at an estate sale and insisted it have a place on the couch. It was ugly, it was lumpy, it didn’t match with anything else in the space, but it was James’ and he loved it.
Sirius came bounding into the room and rubbed at James’ shoulder affectionately, pecking a quick kiss to the crown of your head in hello before breezing by to head to the kitchen.
“He just got a home a few moments ago, he’s gonna heat up some leftovers for him and for Remus when he gets home.” James explained.
“Do you want any, doll?” Sirius called.
“No, I’m okay. Thank you!” You tried your best to sound upbeat while a horrid feeling settled in your stomach.
James seemed to feel just as awkward as you did; keeping his eyes dutifully on you whilst trying to appear that he wasn’t. His leg bounced anxiously underneath him as he leaned onto the arm of the grandfather chair he sat in – across the room from you.
It may as well have been an ocean worth of distance with the way it left you feeling.
Sirius returned to the living room a few moments later and made himself comfortable on the other end of the couch from you, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table after placing a glass of water directly on the coffee table. You wanted to chide him, knowing Remus would have him by the bollocks if he saw, but you didn’t know if it was your place anymore.
Sirius asked you how your day at work was and you offered him a vague “oh it was alright. Long. How about yours?” which started him on a long tangent about some of his more colourful customers today and how tiresome he found people in general. He and James shared some quips and anecdotes about worst moments in their various retail experiences, and you thought about how much you were going to miss this.
“Okay, what is going on?” Sirius snapped abruptly, causing your head to shoot up so quickly that you heard it crack.
“Huh?” You asked sheepishly.
Sirius’ brows furrowed as he stole a glance at James before turning back to you. “You’re being weird...what’s going on with you?”
But you didn’t get a chance to answer when the sound of the front door alerted everyone to Remus’ arrival. You hated that you visibly tensed at the sound of him moving down the hall.
“Hey bubs. Is she here?” You heard him ask James, since you and Sirius couldn’t yet see him nor he you from his position in the hall way.
You felt your face scrunch up miserably and quickly brought your hands up to shield your face, choking out a silent sob.
“Yeah.” James responded, though his voice was but a whisper as Sirius added a “whoa” at the same time. 
“What did you guys do?” Remus cooed and made his way towards you having spotted your distress.
“I’m sorry.” You muttered miserably, both for whatever you’d done to cause this conflict between the four of you and also for your embarrassing display of emotions.
“What are you sorry for, dovey?” Remus asked softly as he knelt in front of you, gently taking your wrists and coaxing them away from your face. 
“For upsetting you all.”
Remus’ brows furrowed beyond their worried state and into a more confused state as he turned to look at the other two boys in bemusement. 
“Well, I don’t think any of us are happy that you’re so upset, love, but we’re not upset. You don’t have to apologize.” He pressed.
“I don’t think that’s what this is.” James input from his place across the room.
“I’m sorry. I’m not quite sure why you’re mad at me, but I’d like to talk about it with you and I promise not to do it again.” You cried, sounding disturbingly and embarrassingly close to begging.
“Mad at you? Is that why you’ve been such a weirdo tonight? You thought we were mad at you?” Sirius asked incredulously.
“Don’t call her a weirdo, Pads!” James chided, standing from his chair. 
“Why’d you think everyone was mad at you, dove?” Remus asked, ignoring the squawking of his boyfriends behind him as he forced you to hold eye contact with him.
“I... I don’t know, I guess things just felt kind of off this week and then...I don’t know.” You admitted dumbly. “And then I got here and, it just felt weird.”
“I’m sorry, angel.” James apologized, suddenly beside you having taken to sitting directly on top of (a very petulant) Sirius. “You seemed distressed and... I got nervous. Usually, Rem is the better one at handling these things, I wanted to wait until he got here to broach the subject. Sirius, though, has the tact of a bull.”
“So, you were just going to let all of us sit here awkwardly until Remus got here to save the day, huh? Not on my fucking watch.” Sirius groaned as he positioned himself to kick James not only off of him, but off the couch completely. This caused Sirius’ glass of water to topple off the coffee table and onto the rug below it.
“Nice going, Prongs,” Sirius spat victoriously from his place on the couch, “look at the mess you’ve made.”
“It wasn’t even my cup!” James defended.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that wasn’t on a fuckin' coaster, Sirius.” Remus reproached darkly, tossing the dark-haired boy a glare over his shoulder.
Sirius just smirked and then winked at you. “There you go, dollface, now everyone’s mad at me instead.”
“Awe, Pads!” James cooed from the ground before launching himself back onto Sirius. “Look at you, taking the heat off our pretty girl.”
Remus shook his head in exhaustion, but you could see a fond smile ghosting his lips from his place before you.
“Trust me, dove. You’re the least of our problems.”
You chuckled wetly and wiped the tears (and more embarrassingly, the snot) from your face. “I’m sorry. I feel rather silly now.”
Sirius, having given up on his instance to be the little spoon between he and James, looked around James’ broad frame in his lap to face you. “How about this; if we’re ever upset with you, we promise to tell you. If we haven’t said anything; it’s safe to assume we’re not mad. Okay?”
You nodded in agreement.
“And...” James continued. “Next time you find yourself feeling like this, maybe you can tell us, too?”
You nodded emphatically. “Yes, I promise. I’m sorry.”
Remus kissed the backs of both of your hands and stood from his knelt position in front of you.
“No more sorry’s, dove. We’re all good.”
James stood from Sirius’ lap to place a warm kiss to the space between your cheek and ear and whispered another apology for your being upset.
“Hey, Moons?” Sirius called.
“Yeah?”
“Are you heading to the kitchen?” He called with the sort of smirk that caused you and James to exchange a suspicious look.
“Yeah.”
“Can you grab me a glass of water, please?”
“Fuckin’ hell Sirius get off your arse. And use a sodding coaster.” Remus bellowed from the bedroom.
“See? You’re the least of our problems.” James repeated, stamping another kiss to your cheek. 
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marsprincess889 · 3 months ago
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VEDIC ASTRO OBSERVATIONS
Part 4
I thought, why not
Editing and finishing this as I have a face mask on
Bharanis are very sensitive, in a very misunderstood way. They're often either dangerously passive and stubborn or fiercely proactive, and this comes from the fact that they can read people well, and are sensitive to the energies around them. They know the importance of sticking to their own convictions/their way. Bharani is the place where you MUST NOT be fooled into submission and gaslighting, no matter who it comes from. It's where all kinds of forces try to enforce influence on you, right when you are so aware of your true calling/desire(s). That's why this nakshatra is so prominent in the charts of great philosophers and thinkers. They are defensive and secretive, but it all comes from the necessity to protect their truth, which is their life, and everything to them. Do not mistake their defensiveness as childish defiance. They know the pain of giving up and the strength it requires to stand up to themselves.
I said this multiple times, and I'm saying at again: ketu is VERY IMPORTANT. look at your ketu nakshatra and just take it in for a sec. Its infulence is on everything. Since you can rarely attribute that infulence on a specific thing in a person, it's often overlooked, but once you start looking at ketu in charts and apply it to the native/their life, you cannot unsee it. Also, when you are being natural, when life feels effortless and when you don't think a lot, oftentimes the appearance of your ketu will come to the surface, i mean, you'll be able to see it physically. Ik I don't look like my ketu nakshatra at first glance but boy do i see it when I look in the mirror, and I like it a lot. Oftentimes, as I've noticed, people love their ketu.
Your true essence, I think, is moon+ketu(very personal and mostly private but extremely important. They color the most of your inner world), then sun+ascendant(your way of dealing with the world, also very important) and atmakaraka+amatyakaraka(your path to yourself). Your chart ruler(ruling planet of your rising sign) is kind of separate but still visible, and it colors the whole chart, but unlike ketu, it's more on the surface and more visible in the native's behavior. I'm not saying you should disregard other placements, but this is how I see them.
Some nakshatras that I think are most prone to agitation/reactiveness(in order of their appearance from Ashwini to Revati, not ranked): Ardra, Ashlesha, Chitra, Vishakha, Purva Ashadha(?), Dhanishta.
In contrast, most stoic and hard to get a reaction out of: Pushya, Magha, Purva Phalguni, Uttara Phalguni, Uttara Ashadha, Shatabhisha, Uttara Bhadrapada.
Ketu in Ashlesha is dangerous like I know it personally(I don't have it tho). Ketu, unless exalted and/or developed by the native(conciously or subconciously) is mostly in a state of ignorance. Ashlesha is, dare I say, the most manipulative placement, but the tragedy is that Ashlesha natives kinda need it, that's what they know. It's the torturous place of attachments and distance and forced attachments and forced distance, of abuse and healing and alertness on a deeply nervous and emotional level. Ketu, the planet of raw, dangerously powerful stored energy and experience in a place like that can be horrible, for both the native and the people around them, especially if the native is unaware of their behavior.
Uttara Phalgunis can be taken for granted by others, especially people they're close to, but those people still refuse to let the U. Phalguni native go. They're so "Sunny" and supportive that some people refuse to take them seriously. The thing with Sun nakshatras though is that they have inner strength and are in no way naive, they just have trust because they trust themselves and know and are proud of their convictions. U. Phalgunis' convictions almost always include support and loyalty to people close to them/dear to their heart, but unfortunately, not everyone can appreciate that for what it is and pass it off as naivety. Mostly it comes from people who value manipulation, which Uttara Phalgunis hate. Uttara Phalguni women/girls especially can be seen as "good girls" at first glance, or as "vanilla", but in reality, it's based on their inner strength and trust in themselves. Ik this sounds biased, that's just because it's personal and I know many examples of it, mine and others. This one's for the "good" ones.
Interesting thing I've noticed: Krittikas, despite being a Sun nakshatra, have a reputation of being "aggressive"? I would not say they're aggressive, but they can be more reactive than other sun nakshatras. Krittika starts in Aries(ram), which is ruled by the active Mars. It's yoni animal is a sheep/goat/ram(sources vary). I mean, its essence is that of fire, and its meaning is "to cut", so, they're kind of aggressive about their individuality/selectivity/. They're aggressively stoic, if that makes sense.
To expand on the point above, a great way to understand nakshatras is to view their ruling planet as what is given/what we have, and the rashi(s) that it's in as what is done with it. So, for example, if Bharani is about protecting/defending(mars/aries) beauty, life and love(Venus), Mrigashira(the Taurus part) is about beautifying/enjoying(passive venus/taurus) pursuit/defiance(Mars). You can see how different those are, especially because a planet ruling a rashi is not the same as a planet ruling a nakshatra, they manifest slightly differently.
Another great way to understand nakshatras is to learn their mythology. I am very well aware that different sources say different things, and ik it's more tiring than rewarding to go from site to site but you can take little details that are consistent and stick to them. For example, Revati's god Pushan is known as the one who guides, who nourishes, but he's the nourishing form of a Sun god. So now you see that Revati is solar in nature, rather than Saturnian(its opposite). It's all about association and how different associations relate to each other. I think this kind of approach is better than relying on other people's opinions and observations.
So, this is all I guess?
Interact pleaseeeeeeeeee 😩💕 esp reblog and comment
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vhaos-chaotic-writing · 23 days ago
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(TFP) Yandere!Autobots - Types of yandere
WARNING: Yandere behaviour, yandere harem, describing types of yandere, typical violence from the series and a little bit more, Reader is gender neutral and in the Autobot faction. Use of (Y/N) (minimun).
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Optimus Prime is an overprotective yandere.
Clear from the start - even before the war, the Prime hated the idea of you being hurt or in any kind of pain, either if it was physical or emotional. He can't help but always think of your safety, even if it meant to keep you locked inside of the base.
His presence is overbearing, always there behind your back and acting as your shadow. You don't bring yourself to ask kindly to have some privacy or be allowed to do more than just rather small tasks at the base - he looks so happy being by your side and always looks like his spark is breaking in half if you express the minimun discomfort.
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Ratchet is an obsessive yandere.
Servo on servo with Optimus, he is quite overprotective too. But what makes him different from Optimus is that Ratchet gets hysteric and euphoric in the blink of an optic if it is about you. You would get scared to see the many things he keeps and knows about you.
Knows everything about you, both in the medical field and personally for he is the bot you get to pass more time as the others are out on their missions. Has his optics on you nearly all the time, analizing and keeping every little detail, data and informatiom about you. When he is all alone or with any of his teammates, he gushes quietly about you, spilling every little detail he learned recently or holds dearly to his systems.
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Bumblebee is a self-aware yandere.
From the bunch, Bee is the one to know what he and the others are doing is wrong. More than wrong. They were holding you hostage, lying to you, their love for you reaching sickening levels, and he is sick of himself... but can't bring himself to stop. His self-awareness then translates to a validation-seeking behaviour.
He needs your smile, your words of approval, your soft praise, your gentle touch - everything so he doesn't crumble down. He feels lost without you, that's why he is always following you and doing anything so you can look at him with those precious optics of yours that make Bee forget for a moment that what he is doing is wrong.
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Bulkhead and Wheeljack are clingy yanderes.
Something that makes them different from one another is how their clinginess is masked - while Wheeljack flirts and tries to woo you, Bulkhead gives you small gifts and wishes to pass time with you. Wheeljack loudly demands your attention with flirting, compliments and keeping a servo on you, while Bulkhead does it quietly, his gifts always accompanied with a 'would you like to pass time together?' or 'wanna train together?'
You are their universe - they must be around you to feel alive and in calm. Spare them a glance, a word, anything and they'll melt and wish for more.
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Arcee is a violent yandere.
Like Bee, Arcee is self-aware, but it is her love for you that moves her wrath, and viceversa - her anger moves her devotion for you. Arcee had lost many loved ones, like Tailgate and Cliffjumper, stucked in a cycle of grief, spiraling in the anger stage. But the anger is never directed at you (never, ever), but at the Decepticons and anyone who stands in her and her team's way to protect you.
You bring peace to her hurt soul, making her fall deeper in love for you - but once you turn your optics away, her anger is back, ready to destroy everything if it means to show you how much she loves you. And you've witnessed how her hysteria taking over, to then melt the moment she gets to see you, bringing her tranquility.
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Smokescreen and Cliffjumper are worshipping yanderes.
Oh, Primus - if Cliffjumper was still alive, he and Smokescreen would be a helmache whenever both opened their mouths, as they would talk non-stop about how amazing, precious and unique you are. While Smokescreen is a 100% worshipper "(Y/N) is a flawless deity!", Cliffjumper is a worshipper that acts normal in front of you, but once you leave, he talks and talks about you, praising anything you do.
Both definitely lean on the stalkering side, too - and in their optics, you are free of any sin, of any flaw. You are perfect. And if you give them a small compliment? They feel this rush of euphoria.
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Ultra Magnus is a passive lovestruck yandere.
In front of others, Ultra Magnus does his job as an autobot, following Optimus' orders and guiding his teammates. But when he is all alone with you, he changes - he seems to be in a passive, dream-like state, as all he does is sigh, kneel in front of you and whisper his prayers, holding your servo and begging softly for your benevolence and blessing.
Like others, he is also a worshipper, but a very soft, calm one - for his worshipping must be only for you to hear. He prays everyday to be worthy of you, to be your knight in shinning armour. Ultra Magnus will always view you as an angel, an ethereal being and sigh his spark out of love for you.
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Hope y'all liked it! (*^▽^*) Vhaos out!
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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months ago
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The Imperfect Couple - 6
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Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader
Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.
Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.
Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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“How long have you known him?” Bucky’s voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp, watching every reaction.
“Five years,” you answered, keeping your tone steady. You didn’t want him to pick up on any hint of tension.
Bucky frowned, a strange sense of familiarity tugging at him. Ian seemed like a typical journalist, but something else about him gnawed at Bucky's instincts.
He rarely interacted with foreign reporters, so why did Ian’s presence feel… off? He was sure he'd figure out why this feeling wouldn't leave him.
Before either of you could say more, Greg appeared, clipboard in hand, and gave you both a pointed look. “Alright, you two, time to get ready. The event’s about to start. Let’s make sure everything runs smoothly.”
You nodded, feeling the butterflies in your stomach begin to stir. You’d been on stages before, but not like this. Not with Bucky, not under the gaze of an entire country.
Bucky noticed your hesitation and moved closer, placing a firm hand on your lower back. “It’s going to be fine,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. “I’ve got you.”
You looked up at him, trying to read his eyes. Was he just saying that for the cameras? Or was there something deeper there? It was getting harder to tell. You nodded anyway, more for yourself than for him, and straightened up. You had to play your part, just as you always did.
At the Convention
The large venue buzzed with excitement, lights shining down on the stage like spotlights in an arena. When Steve Rogers walked up to the podium, the room went silent, all eyes on him. He was the golden candidate—charismatic, confident, the embodiment of what the people wanted.
The room buzzed with anticipation as Steve Rogers approached the podium, every eye in the venue locked onto him. He stood tall, his presence commanding, radiating the quiet strength he was known for. After a brief moment, he began speaking, his voice steady but filled with passion.
"Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Americans," Steve’s voice echoed with gravitas, "Today, we stand at the threshold of a new era. We face challenges that require not just strong leadership, but leadership rooted in integrity, honor, and the unyielding belief in the power of the people."
The crowd quieted further, hanging on his every word.
"For too long, we’ve watched division grow. But I believe in the strength of unity, the strength of standing together—one nation, bound by a shared responsibility to protect our freedom, our families, and our future. And I pledge to lead with the same unwavering commitment that I’ve given to this country my entire life."
He took a brief pause, allowing his words to sink in, then continued, his tone growing more impassioned.
"I am not just here as a candidate, but as a father, a husband, and a son," he said, gesturing toward his wife, Peggy, and their children standing nearby, his parents behind them. "I want a better world for my family—just as I want a better world for yours. A world where opportunity isn’t reserved for the few but shared by the many. A world where every child grows up in safety, with access to education, health, and the opportunity to pursue their dreams."
The applause began to rise, but Steve held his hand up gently, signaling for quiet once more.
"This is not just my campaign. This is our campaign. Together, we will fight for a future that respects the dignity of every individual. We will build an America where justice is not selective but a right for all. Where leadership is about service—not power."
His voice crescendoed, igniting the room.
"Because I believe in us. I believe in the promise of America, and I believe in the strength of the American people. Together, we will rise to meet the challenges of today, and together, we will create a brighter, fairer, and stronger tomorrow."
The room erupted into thunderous applause as Steve’s words settled over the crowd. He stepped back, waving, as Peggy and their children joined him at the front of the stage, a living testament to the family values he championed.
With that, Steve Rogers sealed the moment—an electrifying speech that echoed far beyond the walls of the convention hall.
The crowd erupted into applause as Steve stepped aside, making way for Bucky.
Now it was his turn.
You watched as Bucky walked to the podium with the practiced ease of a man who was born for this. His dark suit was perfectly tailored, the overhead lights catching the sharp angles of his face. As soon as he began speaking, the room hushed again.
“I want to thank everyone for being here today,” Bucky started, his voice strong, yet warm. “Serving alongside Steve has been the honor of my life, and I am proud to stand here as the candidate for Vice President. My family—my parents Julius and Caroline, my siblings Shawn and Hazel, my nephew Nate, and my brother-in-law Tim—are with me today.” He motioned to the side, where they all stood. Caroline’s expression was as rigid as ever, while Julius offered a rare smile.
Then Bucky’s eyes found you.
“And of course, my wife. She’s been my rock. She’s stood by me through the hardest times, and I can’t imagine being here without her.” His voice softened, but the sincerity in his words cut through the noise in your head.
You smiled on cue, the kind of smile you’d perfected over years of practice. But inside, everything felt muddled. Bucky spoke as though you were his whole world, but you knew the truth. This was a performance. A calculated move to protect his image.
The applause was thunderous, but it sounded far away as you fought the emotions swirling inside you. Bucky looked the part—strong, dependable, built for this kind of role. He was doing everything right.
But you? You were pretending. The smile you wore for the cameras wasn’t for him; it was for the part of you that wanted to see Caroline suffer, to see her envy every look Bucky gave you on that stage. But underneath the spite, you felt something deeper, something far more complicated.
'Can I really keep doing this?' The question lodged itself in your mind as the applause rang out again.
You watched Bucky continue his speech, looking every bit the man of the moment. He thrived in this atmosphere, while you felt like you were drowning in a sea of lies. Every glance from the audience, every flash from the cameras, reminded you that none of this was real.
When he finished, the room erupted in applause again. Bucky turned to you, offering his hand. The warmth of his palm against yours was meant to be reassuring, but it only deepened your confusion.
As you both exited the stage, his grip tightened slightly, just enough for you to notice. He leaned down, voice low in your ear. “You did great,” he whispered. His words were laced with a strange tenderness that made your stomach flip.
You nodded, but deep down, the weight of this act was crushing you.
🌸🌸🌸🌸
As the convention wrapped up and the crowd began to disperse, you and Bucky maneuvered Tim’s wheelchair carefully. The excitement of the day was still buzzing in the air, but you could sense the underlying tension between Bucky and Ian as Ian approached you and Tim.
Ian greeted you with a friendly smile. “Hey, I’m working on a piece about the election from the perspective of the candidates’ families. What’s it like for you and your family during all this?”
Bucky, standing beside you, made a subtle move to place himself between you and Ian, a protective gesture that didn't go unnoticed. “I’m not sure if that’s appropriate,” Bucky began, but Tim cut him off.
“Of course! I’ve never been interviewed before. It’ll be good to share my side,” Tim said eagerly, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.
Bucky looked at Tim, then at you, his frustration evident in the tightness of his jaw. He sighed and stepped aside, unable to argue with Tim’s excitement or your reluctance to refuse a friend’s request.
Ian turned to you, his expression curious. “You never mentioned your brother before. It’s clear you two have a strong bond.”
“She’s a private person,” Tim interjected with a hint of pride.
Ian raised an eyebrow, glancing back at you. “You really seem to know her well.”
“We may not always show it, but we’re very close. She’s been like a second mother to me, especially after I lost my leg,” Tim said, his voice carrying an unusual warmth.
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at the unexpected praise from your brother. It was rare to hear him speak so openly about his feelings.
Ian smiled as he jotted down notes. “This story is going to resonate with a lot of people.”
After a while, Tim excused himself, leaving you and Ian alone. Ian’s demeanor shifted subtly, becoming more serious.
“Thanks for giving him the chance to speak,” you said with a slight edge. “You know, it feels like you just handed him a chance to embarrass me.”
Ian chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. “Isn’t that what siblings do? Cherish these moments of difference before it’s too late.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean,-?”
Before you could ask, Ian pulled you aside, his face set with determination. “I heard there’s a divorce in your marriage.”
You stiffened, your eyes widening in surprise. “How did you find out?”
Ian’s smirk was almost smug. “Don’t underestimate my skills. You vanished, then reappeared, acting like everything’s perfect. I pieced it together from the campaign.”
He leaned closer, his frustration evident. “Not once did you mention him. And now, suddenly, you’re playing the loving wife. It’s irritating.”
You crossed your arms, feeling a wave of anger and discomfort. “Are you planning to use this information?”
Ian’s expression softened, though his eyes were intense. “I don’t know yet. But a few people already know.”
You flinched at his words, a shiver running down your spine.
Ian’s voice dropped to a reassuring whisper. “Don’t worry. They’ve only heard rumors. No one has solid evidence. I could protect you. Because you deserve someone better.”
You gulped, unable to speak. Ian’s concern seemed genuine, but you couldn’t shake off the pain from your marriage with Bucky. Your emotions were still tangled, and you didn’t want to get involved with Ian’s feelings, especially now.
You glanced up and saw Bucky watching you from across the room. His eyes were locked on you, his gaze sharp and intense. It felt like he was assessing every movement, every word. The tension in his stare made your heart race, and you could almost feel his frustration and jealousy from afar.
🌸🌸🌸🌸
As the car sped through the night, the backseat felt increasingly cramped, the air thick with unspoken tension. You stared out the window, trying to avoid Bucky’s piercing gaze. The city lights flickered past, a blur of neon and shadows, as you stewed over the conversation with Ian and the unresolved questions it left.
Bucky's silence was more oppressive than any words. His jaw was set tight, and the muscles in his neck were rigid. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold, laced with an edge of command. “Don’t meet Ian anymore.”
You continued to look out the window, your reflection a ghostly image against the darkened glass. “He knew about the divorce,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Bucky’s breath hitched, his grip on the seat tightening. He was silent for a moment, the weight of your revelation settling in. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. “Well, that means I’m on the right track. Every politician has skeletons in their closet.”
You turned your head sharply to face him, eyes narrowing. “You’re not afraid if the rumor leaks out?”
Bucky’s gaze remained steady, but his jaw tightened slightly. “I’m not gonna lie, I am afraid. But I’m more worried about how it’ll affect you.” He paused “But look at the bright side. It narrows down the list of people who knew about our marriage.”
You turned to him, eyes narrowing in frustration. “You’re playing with fire, Bucky.”
He leaned closer, the space between you shrinking rapidly. His expression softened into a smirk, but his eyes held a dangerous glint. “I’ll win this for you. I still remember that moment when you wished me to win, just to spite my mother. I need that brave Y/N.”
You could feel the heat from his body, his breath mingling with yours as he drew nearer. The car’s dim lighting accentuated the intensity in his eyes, a smoldering gaze that made your pulse quicken. “Don’t make this about me,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
Bucky’s smirk deepened, and he moved even closer, his face inches from yours. “But babe, this is all for you,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl.
His proximity was overwhelming, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. You swallowed hard, the line between anger and something else entirely blurring as his lips almost brushed against yours.
Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you were caught between the anger at his manipulation and the undeniable pull of the unresolved feelings you still harbored for him. The confined space of the car seemed to shrink around you, the air charged with a mix of frustration and unspoken desire.
Bucky’s gaze locked onto yours, his smirk fading into an expression of intense focus. His hand reached out, fingertips grazing your cheek in a feather-light touch that made your skin tingle. “I need you to trust me,” he said softly, his voice carrying an almost desperate edge.
You hated him for the pain he’d caused, but his touch betrayed your emotions, making it hard to stay firm. And he knew it. You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.only the charged, almost unbearable closeness between you.
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avocado-writing · 4 months ago
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Hi dear! I would like to appreciate your works. I really enjoy everything you wrote, Wish you have a great day! 💗
Since you're taking requests, could you please write Wade with a polite, sweet and delicate partners. He's with a person who's the definition of "Too pure for this world and MUST be PROTECTED at all cost" His partner showers him with love and validation, and always love to listen to him! Thanks! 💓
possibly based on real life events.
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Wade Wilson is so in love, it must be sickening to everyone around him. 
In fact he knows it is and he does not care. He’ll say “look at this meme the love of my life sent me!” and the person who he shows will roll their eyes, as if you don’t have incredible taste in cat pictures. He’ll monologue constantly about how cute you are and how much he loves that scrunchy thing you do with your nose. He’s recited committed-to-memory facts about you so many times that his friends can parrot them too. 
“Yes, I know what their favourite film is, I know you took them to a special viewing of it for their birthday. It’s cute, Wade,” says Laura, patting him on the arm condescendingly. Well, it’s not his fault you’re so wonderful! There isn’t a single thing about you that’s not perfect. He’s constantly bowled over about just how much affection he can fit in his body for you. The other night he was going on about something stupid - he can’t even remember what now, maybe it was about the new Taco Bell menu? - and then realised you hadn’t interrupted him once to shut him up like most people would.
You’d looked over the top of your magazine at him when he’d pointed this out, brow cocked.
“Why would I want you to shut up? I like listening to you talk, Wade.”
Marry you. He’s going to marry you. Every day, then divorce you every day too so he can marry you again. 
You are probably too good for him. Most of his social circle thinks so. You’re patient and kind, when you’re not at your job - where you work at a charity adopting out senior animals, as if you could be any more of a fucking angel - you like to spend your time in his shitty little kitchen, baking desserts for him to get home to. He’ll find you getting Al to taste test for you and his apartment full of laughter and joy. 
Man, he’s definitely put on like, six pounds since the two of you started dating. He needs to be stronger in the face of your cupcakes. 
They are really fucking good though. 
He walks in that night with a plushie under his arm. It’s a cow. He remembers you mentioning offhand how cute you thought cows were, so he decided to grab the biggest one the toy store one the way home had just because he knows it’ll make you smile. You don’t need any more stuffed toys; you sleep with them all in the bed and they’re pushing him off the side at this point because of their sheer number but, well, he likes seeing you happy. 
And then he hears sobbing. 
“Sweetheart?” he asks, immediately panicked. Are you injured? Has someone come to hurt you - has he painted a target on your back because of his job? Bile fills his throat as he stumbles forward…
…and there you are, sitting in front of the TV, PlayStation controller in your lap as tears run down your face while the end of the game plays out. Wade has never felt such relief in his life, laughing as the ache of it is taken from his chest. You turn to him with wide, watery eyes. 
“Don’t you laugh at me, Wade Wilson!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But babe… are you crying at the end of Kingdom Hearts?”
“No!” you lie, trying to mop your face off with your sleeve. Then the music hits its crescendo from the crappy speakers and you start wailing all over again. 
He loves you. He’d kill a million billion people for you. It would take a hell of a long time but hey, one word and he’d do it. If anyone even lifted a finger to hurt you he’d execute them so thoroughly that every generation of their family would be wiped out of existence too. 
To put it in terms you’d approve of, he’d do anything for you. But he also knows you’d never ask him to. You’re just that wonderful. 
“… would it help if I got us take-out and you started playing the second one?”
“Uh-huh,” you manage to confirm. 
“I could be in this fucking game, beat Donald Duck’s little feathery ass. Disney, make it happen.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry about it. Pizza or Chinese?”
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