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astrobydalia · 1 year ago

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🪻Lavender Observations🪸

it's pisces season my dudes so here's my fave pisces aesthetic... this music video really spoke to my pisces moon soul so I wanted to pay homage to it. As always enjoy the observations!

work by astrobydalia

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🪻✨Capricorn risings are very full of themselves to be honest. They have an overall pleasant reputation and are loved (Libra 10th+Cancer 7th) but for some reason they're actually very individualistic and conceited deep down, like they think of themselves as being 'on other level' than others. I think this is because their shadow revolves around their ego (Leo 8th house) and we all know they love status but unfortunately fame and popularity tends to change them and/or take out their toxic traits (Scorpio 11th house). Basically they’re the type to become extremely entitled individuals just because they’re successful

🪸✨The virgo placement urge to have a harmeless and innocent personality/reputation while also engaging in the most unholy, taboo and sometimes immoral activities behind the scenes............ iykyk

🪻✨I’ve noticed Geminis are what people think Aquarians are??? Idk Aquarius placements are the most chill and unproblematic people I know and typically don’t make any fuss out of their “quirks” or opinions, they’re just living and vibing them on their own. Geminis on the other hand are the chaotic manic pixie girls/boys or the mad scientists with the most random and out of pocket interests and ideas. They always be leaving me like ‘wtf are you talking about?🤨’ They’re also opinionated af and will jump into controversy pretty easily.

🪸✨Oh! And Geminis are WAAAAAAAAYYY more detached than aquarius dude. Geminis are air AND mutable, for them it is extremely easy to move on and detach from things

🪻✨All the people I've met who's had cosmetic procedures done (botox, plastic surgery, fillers, etc) always had libra placements and/or Neptune aspecting the ASC. Overall Venus and Neptune influence is big in people who wanna look like a glossy instagram filter

🪸✨Chiron in the 6th house are HUGE control freaks due to feeling like reality overwhelms them too much, they feel like their life is never sorted out. They are also the type to overwork themselves with pointless things or hyper fixate on short-term goals cause it gives them a sense of control

🪻✨Capricorn placements are attracted to ambition and independence. It is not so much about age difference that they look for, but rather they like it when someone has their own things going on for themselves and has solid life values that they stick to. Capricorn's love language is supporting your ambitions and you doing the same for them so.... they need to see potential in you and with you

🪸✨Libra+Scorpio placements are VERY envious people and tbh I've seen this in everyone who has this mix regardless of how developed they were.... The type to befriend/get close to people they're secretly jealous of to either ruin them or get a taste of what they have. Seriously these natives are never happy with just themselves they're always focusing on how good others' things are

🪻✨People with fire in their big 3 HATE it and get defensive when other people make unsolicited assumptions about who they are or when people assume they can know the native better than the native knows themselves. It’s hard for them to brush that kind of thing off, they don’t like to feel like people are ‘appropriating’ their identity. The type to be like “you don’t know me or my story so stfu”.

🪸✨All of the Scorpio moons I've met had at least a phase in their life where they had a very unhealthy relationship (scorpio) with food (moon)..... They always seem to turn to food when going through a hard time but in a very self-destructive way

🪻✨Sagittarius is as much of an escapist as pisces. They both crave for things to be good, positive and unserious (Jupiter)

🪸✨I’ve noticed women with personal planets in Aquarius usually have very thin and sparse eyebrows and usually enhance them with makeup

🪻✨Natives with Mars in Capricorn are SUPER hairy. A very thick and stunning head of hair and/or noticeable and abundant body/facial hair. Their hair is usually deep and dark as well

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🪸✨Scorpio Moon men I’ve noticed are attracted to a woman who is a bit cold, mean or is not easy to get to her because it makes him feel like she can handle him and his intensity. They’ll likely commit to a woman that captures his heart in such a way that he knows she can potentially hurt him more than he can hurt her. Deep down they wanna be the softer one in the relationship cause they’re a water moon after all

🪻✨I personally never had any 2nd house synastry relationship that actually involved money (except for business relationships ofc). Instead people who had planets falling in my 2nd house always make me feel like a million bucks frfr 🥺 They made it clear that they valued my opinion, my talents, qualities etc (essentially they valued all I had to offer which is 2nd house themes) and also made me feel like they favored me in many ways, like I'm a part of their top priorities, one of their 'faves' and wouldn't let me go easily. I have to say this turned pretty superficial in some cases on both sides, with 2nd house synastry there's a tendency to think of the person in terms of what they can offer be that money, time, services, advice, skills....

🪸✨That been said, you're more likely to be hired or promoted by people who have their planets in your 2nd house because they value your talent and skills. The best feedbacks I've gotten were mostly from clients who had their planets in my 2nd house

🪻✨Cancer Jupiter gives a very loving and caring husband that will totally adore you and provide for you both emotionally and financially. Husband is bound to be highly emotional and sentimental as well, the type to make it obvious to the world that he is truly in love with you. This is Jupiter's exaltation so this placement really gives Disney's Prince Charming vibes fr

🪸✨I've also noticed Scorpio Jupiter gives a similar kind of husband^ but less Prince Charming and a more 'dark fantasy novel'. This placement is giving Edward Cullen’s “your scent is like a drug to me” vibes when it comes to your husband

🪻✨With debilitated Jupiter (Virgo, Gemini, Capricorn) you might get a husband that is kinda detached and could even be distant or indifferent depending on other aspects or positions. Best case scenario is they love and support you but they are just not good at showing affection for some reason and might provide in more practical/straight forward and less sentimental ways. Again, house position,aspects,degrees, etc will give nuance

🪸✨I find Virgo and Aquarius are so similar in that they’re kinda judgmental of people and also tend to be very detached and analytical

🪻✨A crazy amount of athletes and fitness people have debilitated Mars

🪸✨I've also seen a lot of YouTubers, podcast hosts, etc have Sun-Mercury conjunction which makes a lot of sense lol

🪻✨Moon/Venus in Scorpio/8th house natives have a 'I hate everyone but you' kind of love. They really do have a level of misanthropy in their personality but it's low-key amusing

🪸✨Couples that have this best friends and partners in crime dynamics always have 3rd house synastry, I haven’t really seen 11th house as much… The 3rd house creates a fraternal understanding in a couple, two keen minds thinking alike (Gemini, twins, etc)

🪻✨I’ve actually observed 11th house synastry is pretty messy??? It creates connections (any kind) that are a bit all over the place tbh. You really don’t know if you’re gonna be together forever or fall apart tomorrow. You haven’t talked to each in years now one of you is reaching out like nothing happened and both people are keeping it chill the whole time specially the planet person. I guess this dynamic is okay between friends, colleagues or acquaintances (which is what this house rules) but when it’s a romantic or more intimate relationship…. Like I said it’s just messy, not necessarily bad, it be can refreshing and exciting but it has to be your cup of tea (I assume Air venus/mars people will dig it). You’re always wondering what’s next with this person, it feels like the sky’s the limit. I’ve seen this synastry a lot in couples who make odd decisions in the relationship that make people often question if the couple is actually serious about each other like that or not like being engaged for too long, etc

🪸✨Capricorn moons are extroverted or at least they easily pass as extroverts in social situations. They really stand out to me for having a very defined public persona that they’re mostly known for but they’re not really like that in private at all, you’d be surprised for better or for worse lmao

🪻✨"My love language is all of them" = Leo Venus

🪸✨Virgo placements are just as talkative as Gemini placements, they ramble just as much (Mercury). The difference is Virgo’s speeches are usually more thoughtout and eloquent like a presentation they’ve practiced a hundred times, in fact they tend to talk about the same stuff and repeat the same jokes, themes and rambles in most conversations because they like to stick to what they know (earth). They’re 100% the type to give you an unsolicited lecture on whatever it is they’re interested in. Gemini’s speech on the other hand is usually more spontaneous, random and chaotic, they tend to brainstorm out loud and enjoy finding new ideas in conversations (air). They’re more likely to wonder, play with ideas and ask ‘what if’ questions cause they like to explore the possible connections of different things

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🪻✨Pluto-asc aspects/Pluto in the 1st house/Scorpio rising come across as the cool girl/boy. They always have some unattainable energy to them that people secretly look up to and this admiration often translates into jealousy

🪸✨Aries in the big 3 always have something with their forehead. Either they have a big forehead or they have a sacar there etc

🪻✨Capricorn placements work hard and party HARDER. This results in them having a rather fast-paced life style honestly

🪸✨Istg Virgo Moons got a stick up their ass. In their minds they are judge, jury and executioner and never give people grace or just the benefit of the doubt. I don't doubt they're soft deep down but damn they can be very very stubborn and they can get mean easily.

🪻✨Best Virgo placement imo is Virgo mars, I’ve noticed they tend to channel the best traits of virgo (constructive criticism, self-accountability, collaborative, understanding but know what they don’t tolerate)

🪸✨When I first joined Tumblr I read an observation that said Aphrodite (1388) conjunct Mars creates injuries or scars from beauty products and that is SO true! I have this and I've burnt myself several times with curling irons and laser hair removal gadgets

🪻✨All the people I’ve met who loved country music, country life style and that sort of cowboy aesthetic mostly had Sagittarius placements 🤠🐎 (myself included lmao)

🪸✨People with Virgo+Scorpio placements are the most intimidating people I've ever met. Imagine the nitpickyness of Virgo mixed with the intensity of Scorpio.... yeah... not the best at going easy on others or letting people in. Don't test them, they have a “get away from me you fucking scumbag” energy whenever they’re upset or simply dislike something and are the hardest to please. They are very sensitive deep down tho, very sweet and selfless if they genuinely like you.

🪻✨Sagittarius is the master, teacher, guru and guide so it makes a lot of sense for the Sagittarius Pluto generation to be hung up and obsessed (pluto) with influencers, life coaches, etc (sag)

🪸✨Moon in the 3rd house natives tend to make vey quirky movements and gestures with their mouth/jaw when they speak or they're very expressive with their mouth like they may grimace or pout a lot

🪻✨Cancer Mars men are huge mamas boyzzzz!! The type to be completely dependent on their moms/wives to even fry an egg and provide overall home security. They will marry a dominant woman who is fully or mostly in charge of the house and family stuff

🪸✨Speaking of, men with domicile or exalted mars (Aries, Scorpio, Capricorn Mars) can be huge assholes if underdeveloped. If immature they can channel toxic masculinity since mars feels very comfortable here it could go a bit overboard and give fuckboy vibes. The type to be very controlling, inconsiderate and always feel entitled to sex

🪻✨On the opposite end, men with debilitated mars (Libra, Taurus, Cancer Mars) are super chivalrous and often present themselves as very polite, thoughtful and modest. Very popular among women for sure. They can be players and have huge ego too if not mature but even then their energy is very inviting

🪸✨Fire moons process their feelings by letting things out in the moment as they come either through anger, humor or simply speaking their mind. They can often appear rude when expressing something that they feel very strongly about but they'll always value authenticity above anything else

🪻✨Earth moons process their feelings by creating a course of action. Like they internally make a plan for things they will do in oder to make themselves feel better, fix their issue or fulfill their needs on a long-term/permanent basis. They could develop a whole personal system or life style that caters to their emotional needs

🪸✨As we all know Air Moons process their feelings by rationalizing their emotions. Ironically, this can make them lack some emotional intelligence because they put so much focus on their feelings making sense that they don't allow themselves to feel their feelings and figure out what genuinely feels right for them

🪻✨Water moons process their feelings by fully owning their emotions. They find comfort in the mere validity of their own feelings which is why they often have this tendency to victimize themselves, blame others for their issues and constantly look for sympathy

🪸✨I’ve very very very often seen Sagittarius/Jupiter in 7th house, Sagittarius Groom/Juno/Briede creates age gap with spouse!!! As mentioned, Sagittarius is the master and guide of the zodiac so with the influence of this sign in your marriage you are bound to have a teacher-student dynamic where either one of you has much more life experience specially in relationships

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work by astrobydalia

#astrology #astro #astro observations #astro notes #zodiac #birth chart #astrobydalia #astrology observations

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kirammanswifey · 1 month ago

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《Hearts Beyond Reason》

Viktor

writer's note: hello here, ican't explain how much i enjoyed writing this, i have a soft spot for viktor. btw, for those who don't know, this story came from one of my arcane imagines, here is the link in case you want to see the other scenarios, of which i will continue to upload little stories like these during the course of this week, tomorrow it's jinx's turn ;)

link:

warnings: kind of a smut, blowjob, praise kink, mature language, princess treatment for my man, pet names, and a little bit of fluff... just a little bit, we love sassy viktor, also, reader is a baddie.

The auditorium was filled, a sea of brilliant minds awaiting eagerly. Viktor, a renowned scientist specializing in artificial intelligence and robotics, approached the podium with a modest posture, though his reputation preceded any presentation. With his calm and precise voice, he explained how his latest research in biotechnology could revolutionize smart prosthetics.

From your seat, you took quick notes, constantly reviewing to ensure nothing slipped by, as everything coming out of his mouth was incredibly brilliant and unprecedented. You had covered many scientific conferences, but there was something in his approach, in his ability to balance technical complexity with humanity, that kept you intrigued. Maybe it was his distinct kind of Czech accent or the way his eyes drifted to the ceiling, avoiding focusing on the crowd in front of him. He was nervous; public speaking wasn’t his forte, you immediately realized, and you found it incredibly endearing.

When he finished, the room erupted in applause. Apparently, you weren’t the only one impressed. You wasted no time and rushed toward him, dodging other attendees as if in a Mario Kart race.

"Excuse me, Mr. Viktor," you said, adjusting your glasses and catching your breath. "I’m a journalist from The Innovator's Journal. Could I have a brief interview?"

Viktor turned toward you, assessing you with a probing gaze.

You met his eyes with a faint smile, your long lashes fluttering in a cautious flirtation. Subtle non-verbal manipulations you had learned over your career, because journalism wasn’t an easy job, especially not for women. Sometimes, you had to make use of certain physical attributes to draw the attention of interview subjects.

But Viktor didn’t react the way others did. He didn’t look beyond your face.

"For The Innovator’s Journal?" he asked, his accent soft yet distinct. You nodded, mesmerized, and he seemed to consider your request. "I generally don’t accept impromptu interviews, but you seem... determined."

You took a step closer, but without fully invading his personal space, just enough to better perceive his scent. His fragrance was an esoteric, almost magical blend—soft yet noticeable. If stars had a scent, it would surely smell like him.

"I know how to seize opportunities when I see them," you replied with a sharp smile, not fully showing your teeth, as if toying with the possibilities.

A flicker of what seemed like amusement crossed his gaze before he nodded.

"Five minutes," he said, leading you to a quieter corner.

You blinked quickly, not expecting such an ultimatum. However, you didn’t keep him waiting and pulled out your recorder. Clearing your throat to keep your voice steady, you began.

"Your research has been described as a bridge between biotechnology and humanity. Is that what you’re aiming for?"

Viktor slightly tilted his head, as if finding the question deeper than expected.

"I seek to close the gaps," he responded calmly. "Between human abilities and the opportunities that technology offers."

"But some critics argue that it could make people too dependent on machines. How do you respond to that?"

You were known for being controversial; you liked pushing people to their limits. You loved seeing their reactions and enjoyed tense environments. Maybe it was a bit machiavellian, but you didn’t mind, you saw it as part of your job.

His eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger but because he was thinking carefully.

"Dependency isn’t the problem, but how we use what we create. Tools are an extension of our abilities, not a replacement."

He knew what he was doing. He had answered with careful words—if he weren’t a scientist, he’d have had a brilliant career in politics. His response was decisive, but you were expecting more, so you decided to take a risk with something more personal.

"And you? How do you see yourself on this bridge between humanity and technology?"

You asked it clearly regarding his physical disability, as he still walked with a cane and hadn’t implanted one of his much-publicized smart prosthetics.

He paused for a moment before answering. His gaze drifted slightly to the room before returning to you.

"I suppose I’m someone who walks that bridge carefully. It’s a fragile balance, but it’s necessary."

The way his words resonated, heavy with a sort of melancholy, made you forget, for a moment, that you were supposed to be the journalist. There was something more to him, something not easily revealed.

When you finished, you stored your recorder and dared to smile at him again, this time without ulterior motives—a genuine smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Viktor. It was a fascinating conversation," you said, tempted to add that he was equally fascinating, but you refrained.

You didn’t want to scare him off. Viktor seemed like the type of man who didn’t have much female contact, you could easily tell by his physical discomfort. When he spoke with you, his body was tense, and he didn’t gesticulate much. He seemed more like a robot than a person.

"A pleasure, Miss," he responded with a slight nod.

There was a brief silence before you decided to take the next step.

"I must admit, I’m not only intrigued by your work but by you as well. Would you like to continue this conversation over dinner?"

You felt your heart race when that question escaped your lips. You hoped you hadn’t scared him off. It was the first time in a long while that a man had caught your attention so intensely.

For a moment, Viktor seemed surprised. Then, his expression softened, though still laden with reservation.

"I don’t usually accept those types of invitations," he admitted, though his tone didn’t sound too convincing.

That wasn’t a rejection, at least not a definitive one. He was evaluating you. Clearly, he didn’t trust you yet. You adapted to the situation and played his game. You weren’t going to let such a man slip away so easily.

"And I don’t usually make them. Few things capture my attention enough to take such a risk. You see, Mr. Viktor, I’m not easily impressed," you replied, maintaining a confident gaze.

His lips curved just slightly into a smile, a kind of wry smirk that was impossible to read.

Viktor was an enigma you were dying to decode.

"In that case, I’ll accept. After all, curiosity is a virtue," he handed you his personal card with all his contact details, practically leaving everything in your hands, giving you the final word.

Your heart skipped another beat, and as you watched him leave, you knew that conversation was just the beginning. Oh, and you couldn’t wait to see what was coming next.

Viktor decided to go for one of his typical nightly walks after escaping that room filled with important names and fake smiles. Fortunately, he managed to slip away before getting caught up in that pathetic charade. Viktor despised those events; the so-called "scientists" who attended seemed more interested in taking pictures with him than in seriously discussing their projects. They didn’t care about science. In fact, Viktor often doubted whether they had ever opened a quantum physics book in their lives.

The sound of Viktor's footsteps echoed softly on the deserted sidewalk. It was one of those quiet nights when the city lights seemed to dissolve into the horizon, and the stars began to shine brightly. The calmness centered him, pulling him away from daily worries. During these moments, he could reflect on his research progress but also on the purpose science gave him. Sometimes, when the air was fresh and clear, he allowed himself to think of something more personal.

The conversations from that day at the conference still lingered in his mind. Her. The journalist he had spoken to after his presentation. There was something about her that had unsettled him: her sharp curiosity, her direct way of asking questions, and, most of all, the way she wasn’t afraid to challenge him. That had left him pondering. After so many years in the academic and scientific world, it was rare for someone to go beyond technical topics and ask him something more personal. But she had done just that.

A sigh escaped his lips as he looked up at the starry sky. The stillness of the universe, the precision of planetary orbits—all of it seemed to have a purpose. But in his own life, everything was in constant flux. After the interview, she had asked him out. It had been unexpected, but Viktor couldn’t help feeling intrigued. The sensation of uncertainty and anticipation kept him on edge as he walked through the nearby park.

The sound of a message interrupted his thoughts. He pulled out his phone, still gazing at the stars, and saw a LinkedIn notification: a connection request from her. Something in his stomach flipped. What was she expecting from him? A deeper conversation, perhaps? It was a world of unknowns. Viktor wasn’t someone who let curiosity drive him, but there was something about this woman—something about her intellect—that kept him captivated.

One step at a time, he thought, as he accepted the request, not really knowing what to expect from it.

Three days later, in the cozy restaurant where they had agreed to meet, Viktor couldn’t stop rehearsing the words he had mentally prepared. This wasn’t the kind of social situation he excelled at; the conference had been easier, more technical. But now, sitting across from you, there was something that made him feel vulnerable. It wasn’t just his work at stake.

You arrived on time. He watched you as you walked through the restaurant door. The warm light from the lamps highlighted your face, but what immediately caught his attention was the way you walked: confident, yet with a seriousness that belied any facade of superficiality. He had seen you in your role as a journalist, but now, here, he couldn’t help but feel disoriented by your presence.

"Are you nervous?" you asked with a slight smile, noticing the small drops of sweat on his forehead.

"No, just... thoughtful," Viktor replied, more out of habit than sincerity.

The conversation began with that slight tug of awkwardness, something he had already anticipated.

You both took a seat, and after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, you started asking him questions about his research, careful to use a tone that indicated you weren’t just interested in professional matters.

“Why did you choose biotechnology, Viktor? It’s not an easy or straightforward discipline.” It was the first time you addressed him informally, and it seemed to please him because you noticed his shoulders relaxed.

Viktor studied your face more closely. In your gaze, there wasn’t just curiosity but genuine interest. Finally, he could see that you weren’t merely seeking more information for your work but something more.

“It’s a way to try to surpass my own limits. Since I was a child, I’ve been obsessed with the idea that the human body can be improved, even when physical limitations seem insurmountable,” he said, his words tinged with vulnerability. He looked at you and felt satisfied seeing you listening intently. “At some point, I realized I wasn’t just trying to improve my body but others’ as well.”

You didn’t look at him as a distant scientist but as someone who had dedicated his life to a cause. The sincerity in his words struck you unexpectedly.

“But what happens when science becomes too big? When humanity is lost in the process?”

Viktor paused. That was the question he feared most, yet you had posed it with a disarming naturalness.

“That’s what I try to avoid,” he replied, almost in a whisper. “Science should serve humanity, not dominate it. But sometimes... the path forward is uncertain.”

At that moment, the air between you grew tense. Viktor’s universe, which until then had been filled with cold equations and formulas, seemed to crumble a little before you, as if everything he had built was only a reflection of his own insecurities.

The waiter brought the food, but neither of you seemed to notice.

“I’m surprised by how open you are about this. Most people with physical disabilities are quite reserved when it comes to their condition,” you said sincerely, trying to lighten the moment, though the seriousness of the conversation lingered.

“The truth is... no one’s ever asked me before,” he admitted, unable to suppress the faint smile that formed on his lips.

You continued to observe him, this time with more depth, more intensity.

“I think that’s what draws me to your work, Viktor. It’s not just the science; it’s the way you constantly question yourself. It’s as if you’re searching for something more than just solutions.” You were fascinated, and you weren’t afraid to show it.

There was a silence—the kind of silence that invites something more. Viktor pondered how to explain himself.

“The search for answers never ends. And sometimes... that’s all you have.”

You smiled, amused. Conversations with him were always unpredictable. You glanced around the room, noting the soft lighting, the dancing shadows on the walls, the distant murmur of other diners… It all faded when Viktor spoke. Every word that left his mouth seemed designed to disarm you, to subtly but directly pull you out of your comfort zone—a remarkable feat for a journalist like you.

“So, what drives you to follow this path?” you asked, your voice soft but loaded with genuine interest, studying every reaction Viktor gave. With each new sentence, you sought to challenge him, wanting more than his opinion—something beyond his scientific facade.

Viktor looked at you over his glass of wine, his gaze more cautious than he would have liked to admit. The way you were interested in his words was unusual. Most people saw his research as mere achievements or theories. But you saw him—the person, the man behind the genius.

“It’s not just about science,” Viktor replied, but his voice sounded less sure than he had hoped. Something in the air between you unsettled him. There was something in the way you looked at him, with an intensity that made him feel exposed. “It’s about changing the rules, about finding what... what others don’t see.”

You smiled, but not kindly. There was a glint of amusement in your eyes, playing a game only you seemed to know.

“And what do you see, Viktor?” you asked provocatively, your lips curving with mischief. It wasn’t just a simple question. Every word you spoke was a touch, a brush, something that pushed him to let you see more, to say more than he was willing to reveal.

Viktor felt trapped in your gaze but couldn’t look away. Something about you stirred the need to talk, to expose his vulnerability. The tension was palpable; each new interaction seemed like another step in an invisible dance.

“I see a world full of possibilities…” he replied, more by instinct than reflection. He was far from his scientific research, from the cold and calculated equations. Here, there were no formulas he could apply. It was just you and him—and a chemistry as tangible as the air surrounding you.

You let your eyes slowly glide over him as if evaluating every facet of his being, every word, every gesture. It was a silent analysis, one you didn’t bother hiding. Viktor could feel himself being drawn into your scrutiny.

“Is that all you see?” you whispered, leaning slightly closer to the table, keeping your eyes fixed on his, determined to unravel his mask of control. “I think there’s more, something you haven’t said.”

The air between you thickened. Viktor swallowed hard, feeling his heart beat faster than usual. You had hit the mark, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to continue this conversation—not with the way you were looking at him now, like a predator stalking its prey.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice lower than usual, though something in his eyes glimmered with more than doubt—there was something urging him to let go.

Without missing a beat, you picked up your wine glass and, in a motion so smooth it seemed casual, brought it to your lips, looking at him over the rim. You said nothing, but Viktor understood the silent invitation. The chemistry was there between you, dense and palpable. The brush of your lips, the way your fingers grazed the glass… Everything was a subtle provocation, a game neither of you was willing to lose.

Viktor leaned slightly forward, letting the distance between you shrink. His breath hitched for a moment, and when he spoke, his tone was low—so intimate it almost felt like a confession.

“I’m not a man who lets himself go…” he said, but his words didn’t convince even himself. He was caught in the current of what was happening, in the tension woven between your bodies.

“Are you sure?” You raised an eyebrow, your demeanor now a little more challenging. Your voice carried a subtle provocation but didn’t lose the softness that characterized your way of speaking.

You were a challenge, and Viktor, though he denied it, was more than willing to accept it—to accept you.

The conversation veered into more personal matters, and as it did, the words became softer, closer, as if the two of you were walking a fine line between professional and intimate. Viktor realized that every phrase that left your lips not only challenged him intellectually but also disarmed him emotionally.

Time flew by, and when dessert arrived, both of you knew the night was far from over. Viktor was restless, but in a way unfamiliar to him.

You, on the other hand, enjoyed your effect on him. It was so amusing to see how he held his breath when you 'accidentally' grazed his right leg with your heel under the table. The way the corners of his mouth trembled, creating a slight pout, as if silently asking for more. You found yourself in total surrender—if that man asked for the moon, you'd head to space to fetch it for him. But, of course, you wouldn't let him know that. Not yet.

At the end of the dinner, after talking about everything and nothing, Viktor leaned forward, looking at you with an expression that, for the first time that night, showed a mix of determination and something else... something unsettling.

"Would you like to come to my place?" he asked, his voice now firm, though tinged with a touch of uncertainty. There was something in his words that made him more vulnerable, as if he needed this connection, this closeness.

And you couldn’t help but feel the same.

"I’d love to," you replied, and your confirmation hit Viktor like a direct blow to the heart.

It was clear: the night had only just begun.

Viktor's house was exactly what you expected from him: minimalist, functional, almost austere in its decoration. Yet, there was something incredibly cozy about the way everything was arranged. The dim lighting, the soft classical music playing in the background, the faint aroma of incense that filled the air... Everything was meticulously designed to soothe, to find the balance he so clearly sought.

The atmosphere was perfect, but you couldn't help but feel that the air was heavy, charged with something more than just the fragrance of the incense. It was as if Viktor's home itself reflected the inner struggle he carried: orderly, precise, but so, so empty.

Viktor watched as your eyes scanned his home with a mix of curiosity and caution. In your gaze, there was something he couldn’t quite read—an air of control and, at the same time, total vulnerability. It was obvious he wasn’t used to showing his private life, but he said nothing.

As usual, you broke the silence first. You approached the living room table, lightly touching the polished wooden surface, your fingers brushing against the objects decorating it.

"You have an… interesting house," you commented in a tone that could be interpreted as sarcastic. You wanted to tease him.

Viktor glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a slight hint of discomfort visible on his face.

"I don’t like distractions," he replied curtly, but the look he gave you was more complex. A hint of something hidden beneath the surface, something he wasn’t ready to share.

You didn’t bother to insist. Instead, you turned toward him, and before Viktor could react, you stepped forward, eagerly. Every step you took felt as if you were crossing an invisible boundary, challenging every rule Viktor had built for himself. You wanted to push him to his limits, to shatter his perfect facade, to strip him bare in both body and soul.

"I think distractions are necessary sometimes," you murmured slowly and sensually, your tone laden with subtext Viktor immediately recognized.

He stood frozen, unable to look away. Something in your voice disarmed him, something in your presence made him want to open up in a way he wasn’t accustomed to. And yet, he couldn’t resist it.

"And what kind of distraction do you have in mind?" His voice came out deeper than he had intended, with a hint of unease he couldn’t disguise.

Your tongue traced the edges of your lips slowly, not quite touching your lipstick, just teasing, just enough to draw his attention to your mouth. When you succeeded, you smirked wickedly.

Viktor swallowed hard, unconsciously licking his own lips, an involuntary, clumsy act that left him defenseless against you.

"How about a conversation without filters?" you suggested, your voice almost a whisper.

Your fingers moved closer to his chest, gently brushing the lapel of his jacket, exploring every inch of his form with your eyes before deciding whether to touch or not, like a soldier in unknown territory. Viktor swallowed with difficulty, feeling his body respond to that simple touch, that closeness he hadn’t anticipated.

You didn’t back away for a moment, keeping eye contact with him while your fingers still toyed with the fabric of his clothes. Viktor felt a weight in his chest, not just from the tension of the moment, but from the need to step away, to stop letting you control him this way. Yet, something in him didn’t want you to stop.

"What I want, Viktor..." you began, your voice a whisper charged with a confidence that unsettled him, "...is for you to show me who you really are. Not the genius everyone knows, not the scientific leader everyone respects. Just you. The man behind it all. Show me the real you."

Viktor took a deep breath, feeling those words cut deep. He had never allowed anyone to see him that way. He had never let anyone get this close. And yet, here you were, making him feel like it was impossible not to open up to you. Like it was impossible to deny the need to surrender, even for a moment, to something beyond science, beyond reason.

You moved even closer, your lips just a few centimeters from his. The distance was minimal but enough to make the tension between you almost unbearable. Your breaths mingled, and Viktor could feel the heat emanating from you, the palpable desire surrounding you both.

"And if I don’t want you to see that?" His voice was low but defiant, as if trying to protect himself from something he knew, deep down, he could no longer avoid.

You found yourself smiling again, but this time it wasn’t a playful smile. It was a smile of understanding because you had confirmed your suspicions.

Viktor was afraid of connecting with someone. Maybe he didn’t even know how to do it; maybe he never had and had always convinced himself he didn’t need to—that with his machines and equations, he would have enough.

"Then why am I here?" you asked, not moving back even a millimeter.

For a brief moment, Viktor felt trapped. He couldn’t lie, couldn’t keep his distance. Something inside him wanted to give in, wanted to feel vulnerable, for once, without the weight of perfection he imposed on himself.

"Because..." he began, but his words faded into the air when you pulled him toward you, your lips brushing lightly against his. It was a fleeting touch, so brief that Viktor barely had time to process it, but it left him trembling, gripping his cane tighter as he felt he might lose his balance.

You looked into his eyes, waiting for a reaction, any kind of response, some indicator, a confirmation, anything. Viktor stood there, motionless, but his thoughts were a whirlwind. The strength he had resisted with all night dissolved in that contact, and for the first time, he felt the raw, real desire to embrace vulnerability. To let go.

Without a word, Viktor kissed you. At first, it was slow, cautious, and clumsy, as if testing the waters, afraid of diving too quickly. But you weren’t interested in caution; you pulled him into you, craving more contact, more friction, more intimacy...

Your tongue made its way into his mouth, tracing his front teeth and laughing in his face when you heard him sigh in surprise. Your hands traveled to the back of his neck and you took complete control. You devoured him. You sucked and bit as you went. You ate up all his moans and swallowed him greedily.

When you separated, you both breathed heavily. Viktor, his mind clouded by desire, felt a strange sense of lightness. For a moment, the scientist in him had completely disappeared. You didn't waste his moment of confusion and pushed him onto the couch behind him. Viktor fell awkwardly and humiliatingly, his cane had fallen to the floor, and his long, weak legs were spread wide. His brown hair was messy, and his eyes were as wide as they were bright.

You smiled, he looked ready to be devoured. You took a step and raised your foot on the furniture, placing it right in front of Viktor's crotch. You bent your torso and appreciated his blush up close.

"Don't think about it too much, Viktor. Just... let yourself go. Let me take care of you. Can you do that?" you asked, taking him by his thin chin, he nodded slowly and shakily, like a lamb at the mercy of a wolf, and the truth is that metaphor was not so far from reality.

He's not used to relinquishing control, but in this moment, he finds himself craving it. Craving you. And you noticed it, you noticed his desire, his wish to lose himself in you, so you were going to give him your best. You wanted to make him feel good. Really good.

"Oh, aren't you a pretty boy?," you said, pressing the sharp tip of your heel into his cock. Viktor inhales sharply, his hips bucking instinctively into your touch, he was like a hungry puppy. A strangled moan escapes his lips, his eyes fluttering closed at the sudden surge of pleasure-pain. "So obedient and willing to help, to give his best, as always."

He flushes at your teasing words, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coloring his pale skin. Viktor's not used to being called sweet or pretty, least of all in a situation like this. But the way you say it, with that wicked gleam in your eyes and that smirk on your lips... it makes him want to be those things. For you.

Humming softly, he reaches up to cover your hand on his chin with his own, guiding it to his chest. His heartbeat is rapid and strong beneath your palm, a silent testament to his desire. "I am not... accustomed to such directness", he admits, his voice rough with need. "But I find myself appreciating it." Viktor's other hand comes to rest on your calf. It's a tentative touch, almost hesitant, but unmistakably eager.

His broken voice. His defeated expression. The way his hand caressed your leg, so sweet yet so hard. It was too much. You needed to please him as soon as possible.

"You're so cute," you had to bite your lip to keep from cursing, "Can I eat you?"

Viktor's eyes widen at your bold question, a wave of heat rushing to his cheeks and other more sensitive areas. He's not used to such crude, direct language, especially not from someone as cool and collected as you show to be. It catches him off guard and sets his heart racing.

As you kneels down in front of him, Viktor's breath hitches in his throat. He looks down at you, his amber eyes searching your face for any hint of jest or deception. But he finds none. Only a hunger that matches his own, a desire that makes his stomach flip and his mouth go dry.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Viktor nods. His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, his words almost lost amidst the pounding of his own heartbeat. "I... I would like that. Very much," he swallows hard, his tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips.

Viktor's hands come to rest on the couch beside him, gripping the fabric tightly. He's not sure what to do with himself, how to act in this new role of his. All he knows is that he wants you, wants your touch, wants your everything. And so, with a deep breath, he spreads his legs a little wider, a silent invitation.

"Can I take off your pants?" you knew you didn't need to ask, it was more than obvious that you both wanted to. But your goal was to enjoy this new facet of Viktor, you were liking this tender and submissive Viktor a little bit too much.

Viktor feels is heart pounding in his chest as he stares down at you kneeling before him. The sight sends a jolt of anticipation and arousal through his body, his cock throbbing almost painfully against the confines of his pants.

With a shaky nod, Viktor lifts his hips slightly, allowing you to slip your fingers under the waistband of his pants. His breath catches in his throat as you start to tug them down, inch by torturous inch. The cool air of the house hits his skin, making him shiver and his member twitch. Once his pants and underwear are off, Viktor sits bare before you, his legs splayed out and his arousal evident. He resists the urge to cover up, forcing himself to stay still and let you appreciate him. His cheeks burn with embarrassment and desire, his chest heaving with each ragged breath.

"You're even prettier down here," your compliment makes him choke on his saliva.

The way you look at him, with your eyes roaming hungrily over every inch of his exposed flesh... it makes him feel powerful. Desired. Needed. And Viktor has never felt needed.

He squirms slightly under your intense scrutiny, his cock jumping at the slightest brush of your fingertips against his thigh. Viktor's voice is low and rough when he speaks, his words laced with need.

"I am glad you find me pleasing. I must admit, I have never been inspected quite so... thoroughly before," his lips twitch into a tentative smile, his eyes darkened with desire as they meet yours.

Well, that was a new side. A sassy and naughty one. And you loved it even more.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Viktor reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear. He was so sweet, you wanted to hug him and never let him go.

His fingers linger on your cheek, tracing the delicate curve of your jaw and the soft swell of your lower lip.

It was impossible for you not to smile with tenderness, you let your face rest on his thin hand. Then you looked him straight in the eyes, your desire to tease him never completely went away.

"It's so funny how you keep using your fancy talk despite being in this situation," you had to comment, and as expected, the blush returned to his cheeks. Adorable. "Here, take my hair."

Your request was very unexpected.

Viktor blinks in momentary confusion as you hands him your long hair, unsure of your intentions. But as your warm breath ghosts over his sensitive flesh, he quickly forgets his bewilderment, replaced by a surge of anticipation.

He takes the silky strands in his hand, marveling at the weight of them, the way they slip through his fingers. Viktor's heart races as you lean in, your lips parting to reveal the wet heat of your mouth.

And then, you takes him. All of him. Viktor's head falls back against the couch, a strangled moan tearing from his throat as your lips seal around his throbbing cock. The sensation is incredible, unlike anything he's ever felt before. Your tongue swirls around his length, exploring every ridge and vein with a curiosity that borders on reverence.

Viktor's grip tightens on your hair as he fights the urge to thrust into the wet heat of your mouth. He was so overwhelmed, so consumed by sensation. It's terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

His breath comes in short, sharp gasps as you works over his cock, your head bobbing up and down in a steady rhythm. Viktor's never been more grateful for his weakness, for the way his leg keeps him rooted to the spot, unable to move anything but his hips in shallow, aborted thrusts.

You looked at him without stopping sucking at any time, you were hungry for him. You loved seeing him so vulnerable and so pleased by you. In fact, you wanted to give him more pleasure, you wanted to take him to paradise and bring him back.

Viktor's eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused as he stares down at you. The sight of you, so hungry and eager, your lips stretched around his throbbing flesh... was almost too much to bear. His breath comes in harsh, ragged pants as you continues your assault, your tongue and lips and the wet, sucking heat of your mouth pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Viktor's fingers tighten almost painfully in your hair, his hips jerking and stuttering as he fights the urge to lose himself completely.

Your eyes meet his, intense and filled with a passion that makes his heart race.

His balls draw up tight, his cock pulsing and throbbing as his climax approaches, and with a pathetic cry, Viktor comes undone, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave. His cock jerks and pulses as he spills himself into your eager mouth, his fingers tightening almost cruelly in your scalp as he rides out the aftershocks of his intense orgasm.

As the waves of pleasure start to subside, Viktor slowly comes back to himself, his breathing still ragged and uneven. It takes a moment for the reality of what just happened to sink in - he just came, hard and fast, in your mouth, and you just swallowed it.

Viktor was mortified. A deep, blotchy red spread across his pale skin, creeping down his neck and pooling at his collarbone. Each shaky breath he took only seemed to fan the flames of his embarrassment. His hands, usually steady when working on intricate mechanisms, now trembled as they gripped the edge of the couch. When he tried to pull away, mumbling apologies, you stopped him gently but firmly.

Your hand stayed where it was, warm and reassuring, keeping him grounded in the present moment. “No, Viktor,” you murmured softly, your voice calm and soothing, like a balm for his raw nerves.

“I… I’m so sorry,” he stammered, his voice rough and broken. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you, his golden eyes fixed somewhere far away, as though retreating into himself might erase what had just happened. “That was… incredibly inappropriate of me. I couldn’t control myself… I couldn’t…” His voice faltered, fading into a silence heavy with shame.

Without a word, you shifted closer, carefully settling onto his lap. Your presence made him tense at first, but as your warmth seeped into him, you felt his rigid posture begin to soften.

Viktor swallowed hard, his lips trembling as he tried to continue. “I feel so selfish,” he admitted in a hoarse whisper. “I couldn’t hold back… and I couldn’t… I couldn’t give you anything in return. I didn’t—” His words broke off, and he turned his head, as if hiding from you might shield him from his own insecurities. “I’m pathetic.”

Your heart ached at his confession. It wasn’t just his words—it was the weight they carried, the insecurities and self-doubt that had clearly plagued him for years. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug that was firm but full of tenderness, as if trying to hold all the broken pieces of him together.

Your fingers found their way to his messy hair, threading through the soft strands with care. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back slightly to cradle his face in your hands. His cheeks were still flushed, and his expression was a mix of embarrassment and surprise, but he didn’t resist.

“Viktor,” you said gently, your tone low but filled with conviction. “Look at me.”

He hesitated, his golden eyes darting nervously before finally meeting yours. They were full of hesitation, as if he were bracing himself for judgment. But all he found in your gaze was warmth.

“Do I look like someone who’s disappointed?” you asked, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Before he could stammer out a response, you continued, your thumbs brushing lightly across his cheeks. “This was our first time trying something like this. It’s normal that it was so… intense. It’s a natural reaction, Viktor, and nothing to feel ashamed of.”

He blinked at you, his confusion evident, but you weren’t done yet. A playful glint sparkled in your eyes as you leaned in slightly closer. “And if I’m being honest,” you added, your voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, “I enjoyed every second of it. I’ve been fantasizing about moments like this since the day I met you.”

The way his eyes widened and his blush deepened was almost enough to make you laugh. But instead, you smiled softly, leaning in to brush your lips lightly against his ear. “Besides,” you whispered, your tone teasing but full of affection, “this is only the beginning, pretty boy. We’ve got plenty of time for moments like this.”

His breath hitched at the nickname, and for a moment, he looked completely disarmed. He nodded slowly, his embarrassment still evident, but there was a flicker of trust in his gaze now.

It was then that you noticed the exhaustion etched into his features—the dark circles under his eyes, the slump of his shoulders. It was obvious that he had been working tirelessly, likely pushing himself past his limits, as he always did and confessed to you. And now, after everything that had just happened, the tiredness seemed to weigh on him even more.

“Do you want to cuddle tonight?” you asked casually, though your tone was laced with affection. You already knew the answer. He was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and he needed rest.

Viktor looked at you, his expression softening into something that resembled gratitude. “Yes… please,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Without another word, you guided him to lie down with you, pulling him close until his head rested against your chest. His arms hesitated at first before wrapping around your waist tentatively, and you could feel the tension slowly melting away from his body.

As you ran your fingers through his hair and whispered soft reassurances, you felt his breathing slow, syncing with yours. He sighed softly, his entire body relaxing in your embrace. In that quiet, intimate moment, you felt a wave of protectiveness wash over you.

Holding him like this, you silently promised yourself that you would always be there for him. To remind him that he didn’t have to face his insecurities alone, that he didn’t have to be perfect to be loved. He was enough—just as he was. And as he drifted off to sleep, you knew he felt it too.

The first rays of dawn began to filter through the windows of Viktor's home. The atmosphere, which had been warm and charged with intensity, was now tinged with a calmer, more reflective silence.

Both of you lay together on the sofa, your bodies entwined and your breaths synchronized. Viktor rested against you, his face buried in your hair, his fingers tracing abstract patterns along your back as if trying to memorize every detail of this moment.

"I never thought..." he began, his voice barely above a whisper.

You lifted your head to look at him, the light in his eyes still a mix of disbelief and tenderness.

"Never thought what?" you asked softly, your fingers brushing against his jawline.

"I never thought I’d need this as much as I do now." His confession was simple yet heavy with meaning. His barriers had fallen, at least with you, and you both understood the weight of that.

You smiled, feeling how deeply those words resonated within you. There was something profoundly beautiful about seeing someone like Viktor—so used to solitude and sacrifice—allow himself this kind of vulnerability.

"We all need something, Viktor. Even you." Your tone was gentle but firm, making it clear you wouldn’t let him retreat behind his mask of self-reliance again.

Viktor nodded but said nothing more. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and steady. It was a simple gesture but full of quiet affection, a language you were both beginning to understand.

As the hours passed, you talked about mundane and profound things, from his advancements to favorite books. The walls of Viktor’s home, which had once felt so empty, now carried an unexpected warmth—a spark neither of you was willing to extinguish.

Before you left, Viktor reached for your hand, his grip gentle but firm.

"I don’t know how to fit this into my life… with you," he admitted. His words were sincere, almost fearful, but his gaze said something else: he wanted to try, and for the first time, he was willing to open that door.

You looked at him, and with a calm smile, you squeezed his hand.

"You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just… don’t close the door before seeing what’s on the other side."

And with that, you left his house, though not without one last look that spoke more than words ever could.

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anundyingfidelity · 8 months ago

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OUT OF MIND — Soldier Boy/Ben

Summary: Ben believes he's alone in the lab, that you're just a product of his imagination and insanity. Is not like that, you're more real than he ever thought.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 1.3k.

Warnings: sexual content, p in v, blowjobs, handjobs, heavy non-con (such as reader taking advantage of Ben), nudity, some angst, mentions of torture and being unconscious.

Note: *another one* this is part of @artyandink Jensen's drabble marathon (if it can't be due to the content of this is totally okay tho!) Anyway hope you like this dark piece of crap I had on my drafts because I could never write a long fanfic ever again, I'm taking so damn long to write.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

The last doctor left, metal door closing behind his back, leaving you all alone with the man lying down in a too uncomfortable stretcher, hands and ankles tied.

The doctor's instructions were clear. He didn't care what you'd do to the experiment in the room. No one cared. As much as a scientist you were yourself, you stayed until late, admiring the former hero at your complete mercy, with nowhere to go or a voice to yell for help. Not that he might needed though.

The room was cold as you paced to remain by his side. His chest going up and down, eyes closed as he slept thanks to the dosis of gas you always administered before taking the tests of his blood and getting into the good part: the torture.

Tens of scientists and doctors stepped the lab to test his strength and powers, gifting him of endurance and new abilities along the way. You were one of them. And this was your price for making him indestructible instead of killing him, switching completely the main objective of the reds. You never really talked to Soldier Boy, more than just the silent moans and gasps leaving your mouth when you actually got into business. Ninety nine percent of the time he was unconscious under the effects of the gas, but he did caught you on top of him a couple of times, or just sucking him off until he was hard in your mouth. The only thing further than talking was his green eyes staring at you, just as he woke up from the slumber. But that made it a thousand times better.

With your fingertips, you traced his bare arm. The skin hot against your hand, finding the way up to his muscular chest, and then down his stomach, stopping right above his crotch. Your mind started wandering all over with the past memories of you and him inside that same lab room.

It was wrong, but you couldn't stop.

You've done this countless of times, what was with doing it again? Besides, he was a piece of shit of a man as far as you knew, using women as appliances and then tossing them like garbage once he was bored. You had to have fun too. Your hand went under his pants, softly playing with his shaft, as your free one went to brush away the mess his hair was doing on his forehead, so delicately.

His cock grew hard thanks to your touch, jerking him off smoothly. It only made you yearn for him more, the wetness between your legs increasing as you rubbed your thighs together to feel some friction that could relief you for a moment.

You pushed your skirt up and took off your panties, completely desperate to feel him inside you. But before you pulled his pants down enough to free his dick, ans you leaned down to take the tip of his cock between your lips, sucking him just right to earn a somewhat loud gasp from his throat. You took him deeper in your mouth, soaking his shaft with your saliva and stroking with your hand what couldn't fit.

Just as you tasted some pre cum, you pulled back and climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs and lining his cock with your cunt, rubbing yourself on his length. You moaned softly sinking down on him, your tight, wet walls engulfing his dick, until your ass met the hot skin of his thighs. His cock twitched inside you as you rolled your hips in slow, deep movements, that soon became desperate. Biting your lip, you unbuttoned your blouse and pushed your bra down. Quickly, you held on his chest with the palms of your hands, riding him.

Soldier Boy brows furrowed, his breathing became unsteady as much as yours. Sometimes he looked like he would wake up in any minute, but he wasn't really able to. The features on his beautiful face used to change as you had your way with him because it was natural, and you loved to be in control. The only thing you'd regret was his big hands not being put into good use because of the restraints around them. You were so close to your climax that you wished he could bury his nails on your ass and mark it red while you're bouncing on his cock. Maybe someday you'd do it the right way. But not right now. Control suited you and you liked being on top anyway, playing with your tits at your own pace as they bounced with every thrust.

His cock met the deepest parts inside your pussy and you played with your clit and your folds, reaching sweet release and coating his cock with your juices. You continued the steady rhythm of your hips, going for a second orgasm, his dick throbbing so hard you would just fuck him until he spilled inside.

You let out a raspy moan as he came, filling you up and triggering your climax again, thighs shaking. You recovered your breathe, feeling his cock softening inside your pussy. His brows went back to normal, but you felt his heart still racing. Shifting on top of his cock, you reach his bearded cheek, caressing his features.

"I wish I could see underneath all this," you mumbled. "But I'm afraid you'll wake up for real and kill me."

You smirked just a little at the thought. Probably he'd just agree to fuck you if he was awake and back to his old self again, not drugged, not put into sleep. He was the perfect toy nonetheless.

But then, his eyes fluttered open softly. He thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him, watching your face as the bright, white lights iluminated the room. Soldier Boy often believed you were a ghost from his twisted mind, that there was something inside his mind tormenting him to the point he was being used for sexual pleasure by an unknown entity. But your touch, the heat of your body, and your weight over his own told him otherwise. You were fucking real, straddling his lap, with his dick buried balls deep in your tight cunt, tits out and messy hair and lab coat. Soldier Boy groaned, hands clenching into fists.

He spent so much time, decades, inside those concrete walls that there was this primal need inside that couldn't be met. And you were there to make it true from time to time, even if he wanted it or not.

"Good morning, sunshine," you mocked when he tried to free his wrists, but was too weak to do so. "The gas effect is fading away I see."

He grunted as you pulled off from him, climbing down to fix your clothes and putting your panties back. Soldier Boy tried to scream, but his throat was sore; he had to fight the restrains on his limbs, however it was useless. He was so powerless and fragile for a moment.

"Shhh, it's okay," you whispered, putting your hand on his forearm. He looked at you with a mixture of fear and rage. "You're gonna be okay. I always take care of you," you smiled as the stretcher began to shake while he tried to set himself free. "Now don't try it, you're a good boy. Aren't you?"

Soldier Boy groaned like a scolded puppy once you combed his hair with your fingers.

"You've been here for a long time, and no one has ever taken such good care of you as I do," you said, leaning down until your lips were close enough to his ear. "So you better obey me and keep being a good bitch for me."

Once you pulled back, he got the perfect close up of your face before you turned around and left the room, the sound of your heels echoing before the metal door finally closed. In less than five minutes, the chamber was filled with novichok.

Before sleeping again, Soldier Boy knew it was real.

The woman fucking him on his dreams and living nightmares was so damn real.

Soldier Boy taglist

@delaynew

@k-slla

@thesilmarillionblog

@onlyangel-444

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@daisy-the-quake

@jackles010378

@mostlymarvelgirl

@deans-spinster-witch

@drasticemotions

@stoneyggirl2 @sapnaploves

@believeinthefireflies95

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy/ben x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy smut #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x reader smut #soldier boy the boys #jensen ackles the boys #tw noncon

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jadeazora · 2 months ago

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Which Pokemon Villains are homophobic:

Giovanni: Would founding 🌈Rainbow Rocket🌈 count as rainbow capitalism? (It sounds like the name of a company that manufactures dildos, tbh.) I don't think he's supportive, but it doesn't bother him either. All he cares about is if you do your job well. He has men and women in his organization both thirsting for him. Have you met Archer? (His only true loves are money and power; Silver feels more like a precautionary heir.)

Archie/Maxie: are divorced. Also this was an image the official Japanese Pokemon Twitter fucking dropped with the caption "they're getting along well!" Definitely not homophobic:

Cyrus: dgaf. His whole thing is purging the world of emotion, so love's got to go too. (Pretty much everybody is under fire here.) He probably doesn't give a shit what you do in the meantime tho.

Ghetsis: 100%, no fucking doubt in my mind, regularly calls people slurs. His list of slurs is also *VERY* comprehensive.

N: Who do you think Ghetsis's favorite target is? I feel like he's completely chill with it, tho is personally entirely incapable of discerning the difference between romantic love and the love between friends.

Colress: If it isn't his "how to draw out a Pokémon's true strength" research, he doesn't care. You do you. 👍

Lysandre: His whole thing is beauty, and beauty isn't limited to gender or sexuality, and love is a beautiful thing, so why limit himself? Bro's pan.

Guzma: He takes outcast kids off the streets and gives them a home. No way he's homophobic! You got disowned? You're a fellow outcast in his eyes, and your home is with Skull now! (He's dating Plumeria, but is bi to me.)

Lusamine: initially, probably not since she's super controlling and not really a supportive mother to begin with, but since she does end her story wanting to do better for her kids, I feel like she would come around eventually and try to be better.

Piers: Nah, he's with Raihan and his little sis "fancies" Gloria. Next.

Rose: I feel like he would probably engage in some rainbow capitalism here and there, but he's generally friendlier than the other CEO-type villains personality-wise and there's several members of the Galar League who feel bi/gay (Nessa, Piers, Raihan), he wouldn't really be homophobic.

Volo: I don't think he cares that much, but if he can use homophobia to manipulate somebody, he totally would call them a slur. It really just depends what tool he has in his arsenal he feels would be the most effective way of manipulating you.

Penny: she literally calls your mom so pretty her brain glitched. I feel like she could get mad enough to doxx you if you tried to bully gay/trans kids in her presence.

Sada/Turo + the AI: As scientists, they're too wrapped up in their work to care (hell, they barely paid their own son any mind) and the AI knows being gay is something found naturally across species, so homophobia doesn't make much sense to them. Sada also strikes me as bi, and Turo strikes me as ace (with him, I think it's the outfit).

230 notes · View notes

phoward89 · 11 months ago

Text

Based on this ask

WARNING: dub con, non con, dark!Coryo, dom!Coryo, soft!dom!Coryo, overstimulation, vibrator, sex (p in v), slight degradation, spit kink

Coriolanus Snow was thriving under Dr. Gaul. Between his studies at the University ( double major in Military Strategies and Political Science) and his work as Dr. Gaul's assistant (he was quickly promoted from intern to personal assistant due to his cunning and cold nature, which impressed the mad scientist) he was a very busy young man. You didn't see much of him anymore, even though he's been your best friend since you were both little.

You weren't mad about it though. You understood, he had responsibilities and spending what little time he had with you was impossible. He has a family to spend time with.

And a girlfriend.

Your stepfather, General Prometheus Byzantine, had made sure to drop the fact that Coriolanus Snow was seeing Livia Cardew one night during dinner. He just casually dropped the ball, as if he was talking about the weather.

Your little brother, Darius, who had just started the Academy, gave you a sad look of empathy. He knew how you felt about your best friend.

You thought that your parents didn't know, but they did. Your mother and stepfather knew that you were, somehow beyond all logic, in love with your childhood best friend. And your stepfather, being a wartime hero, was on the war council that was headed by none other than Dr. Gaul.

Yea, the same Dr. Gaul that your best friend, Coryo, was studying and working under.��

You didn't know it, but your stepfather talked to the mad scientist about how he was going to be arranging a match for you soon, but he needed her little lab rat out of the way because he was around too much. Would corrupt you. General Byzantine also told Dr. Gaul that you were too sweet, too innocent for a young man like Snow. That he'd never approve of the match, so she better push him into somebody else's arms and away from you.

Cue Coryo's relationship with Livia.

But unknown to you, that relationship ended before it even reached the month milestone.

The real reason why the platinum blonde that held your heart in his large, calloused hands was absent so much from your life was because of the project he was working on with Dr. Gaul.

A very important project that was commissioned to cure the female ailment known as Hysteria. Something that doctor's stopped diagnosing near the end of the early 20th century.

But now, well into the 22nd century, Hysteria in women's back and the treatment for it can be quite time consuming and strenuous on a doctor's wrist.

So, Dr. Gaul and in extension Coriolanus Snow were commissioned to recreate the treatment tool of old that was used to help alleviate women's hysteria thru hysterical paroxysm.

The tool of old was an industrial grade electric vibrator. To be used by doctors to treat stressed and agitated women by bringing them to orgasm via clitoral stimulation.

It truly was a practice done in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. One that, apparently, was back.

Or at least the vibrator part of the treatment for hysteria would be back once the device was finished, tested, and approved. Until then, the doctors of Panem have to do manual clitoral massages to treat hysteria.

“Mr. Snow, the device is ready for live subject testing.” Dr. Gaul told Coriolanus, turning the vibrating tool off and placing it down on the work table.

Coriolanus wanted to laugh his ass off at Dr. Gaul's professional demeanor when it came to announcing that the vibrator was ready to test on pussies.

When his mentor told him what she'd been commissioned to make, he sprayed his tea out of his nose and literally choked. He couldn't believe that doctors had to bring their female patients to orgasm by roughly rubbing their clits because they were agitated and stressed due to sexual frustration. And the fact that the Capitol husbands were sending their wives to doctors for both the diagnosis and cure of hysteria (sexual frustration) baffled him.

Couldn't the husbands just play with their wives pussies themselves?

Dr. Gaul assumed that Coriolanus’ reaction to her commission project was one of proper breeding. Proper gentlemen are brought up to treat their women like dainty china dolls in bed, and to only use them for heirs. That lust was wrong to feel for a wife, a woman of proper breeding. That a gentleman was expected to join a sporting club (a sex club or brothel) in order to enact his base and lustful needs.

So, Dr. Gaul assumed that those teachings were the reason for Coriolanus' reaction to them having to invent an industrial grade vibrator for medical use.

She never once thought that the platinum blonde was judging the Capitolites backwards view of sexuality.

Coriolanus wasn't shy when it came to sex, but maybe that's because he spent some time in District 12 as a peacekeeper. Sex wasn't dirty and taboo in the districts. Hell, random hookups behind an alley with someone you met mere minutes earlier was a norm. Girls that looked so cute with their big doe eyes and simple cotton dresses would drop to their knees in a snap of a finger to hungrily suck cock. Those same girls would bend over, eager to take a cock. And half the time they didn't care what hole it was shoved in. Ass or pussy, as long as they got a good pounding that made them see stars. And then there were those handful of girls that would let a pair of Peacekeepers spit roast them.

So, safe to say, Coriolanus had a sexual awakening while a peacekeeper. He learnt what he liked, what he didn't like, and all of his kinks over the course of a summer.

And his sexual appetite didn't change when he returned to the Capitol. But, unlike the other gentlemen in the Capitol, he didn't join a sporting club. He wasn't going to pay for a sex club membership when he could go out to Pluribus’ club, pick up a pretty girl, and fuck for free.

He just wasn't counting on the capitolite ladies to be prudes.

And the biggest prude of all was his ex.

Livia Cardew.

She didn't want to do anything-

ANYTHING-

-until her wedding night. All because of what she was taught, what all proper Capitol girls were taught.

And just the thought of sucking cock disgusted her. She even slapped him across the face when he suggested it.

So, before they reached their month anniversary, Coriolanus broke up with Livia.

He also threw himself head first into his studies and work as a way to keep his mind off of sex. Settling for fisting his cock and his fantasies fluttering behind his closed eyelids when his urges got too much to handle.

And now, here he is, helping Dr. Gaul invent a vibrator to get all the prudes of the Capitol off because their sexual frustrations are making them unbearable bitches to live with.

“When do you plan on conducting the tests?” Coriolanus asked Dr. Gaul, watching her as she boxed up the vibrating invention.

“I need to recruit some young ladies, of all different ages, from the districts for medical testing.” Dr. Gaul began while locking the invention up in a cabinet. “Of course, their families will be compensated with a small payment, since they'll be tied up here for some time.” The wild, frizzy haired woman sickly smiled while crossing the lab. Coriolanus followed behind her as she explained, “All of that will take time, so I conclude that testing will take place within the next 4-6 weeks at the earliest.”

Dr. Gaul exited the lab with Coriolanus right behind her. “I’d like to test it on a friend of mine, right away. That is, if I have permission to do so, Dr. Gaul.”

“And does this female friend of yours just happen to be General Byzantine's stepdaughter, Y/N?” The scientist asked knowingly, walking down the white hallway leading out of the heart of the lab.

“Yes, that would be her. She's been my best friend since we were children; she'd help me test out the vibrating tool without a second thought.”

“You should tread lightly, Mr. Snow. General Byzantine is in the midst of arranging a matrimonial match for Miss Y/N. Her helping test out our little invention is not going to sit well with him.” Dr. Gaul warned her prodigy, turning down a corner and walking down another stark white hallway.

Coriolanus felt like all the air from his lungs had dried up; leaving him breathless and suffocating. You were going to be handed off to some undeserving asshole. That wasn't right. It wasn't fair either.

You were supposed to be his.

It was common knowledge between your mother and his Grandma’am that when he was ready to settle down, he'd seek you out.

But your stepfather was almost done finalizing an arranged marriage for you with somebody. With somebody that wasn't him.

That was complete and utter bullshit.

Now more than ever, Coriolanus wanted to test that vibrator on your pussy. He wanted to make you cum multiple times; turn you into an overstimulated, crying, babbling mess begging for more. Begging for him to fill you up, fuck you with his cock and make you his.

And by God, he was going to make you his.

And he's going to use that invention, the industrial grade vibrating medical tool, to do it.

“Dr. Gaul, what the general doesn't know, won't hurt him. Besides, I’ll be testing a treatment for hysteria on my best friend. A treatment that, once married, her husband might send her to see a doctor for.”

Your husband was never ever sending you to get your pussy played with because Coriolanus was going to take care of your pussy himself. He wasn't going to let anyone touch you.

Only he's allowed to do that.

Just like he's the only one that's allowed to marry you.

“Very well, Mr. Snow, you have my permission to test our invention on your female best friend.” Dr. Gaul nodded as they reached an elevator. Hitting the button to open the steel box, she asked, “When do you want to conduct the testing?"

“As soon as possible.” Coriolanus honestly told his mentor. “I’d like to bring her here tonight, if she's free. If not, then the soonest day she has open in her schedule.” He said as the metal doors in front of them dinged open.

“And I imagine you want to be the only one conducting the experiment on your live test subject?” Dr. Gaul knowingly asked as they entered the elevator. The mad scientist might be diabolical, but she was very intelligent and knew that Coriolanus Snow was going to use that vibrator they invented to ruin you. And to do that, he'd want to be alone with you, to break you.

The scientist thought it was amusing. How her pupil wanted to ruin you with a vibrator because he couldn't have you.

What she didn't know was that Coriolanus wanted to ruin you, but not because he couldn't have you. But to make you his. To make you pliable to him; want only him and abandoned all of your family’s plans for you just in order to receive endless pleasure from him.

“Yes.” Coriolanus firmly said as the doors to the elevator dinged shut.

“Very well, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul nodded as the elevator began to ascend. “You may have your privacy conducting your experiment on your female best friend.”

You were home with your little brother while your parents were out at one of the finest restaurants in the city. Unknown to you, they were meeting with your potential future husband to discuss your dowry along with his expectations as your future husband.

Your brother was doing his homework and you were sitting on the living room couch, watching tv whenever the doorbell rang. You ignored it, assuming that either the Avox or the housekeeper, Marisol, would answer it.

You guessed correctly when you heard the heavy footfalls of shoes echoing against the marble floors. You didn't pay it any mind, assuming that one of your brother's friends had come over to study or something.

“Miss Y/N, your friend Mister Coriolanus is here to see you.” Marisol announced, standing in the archway of the room.

You tore your attention off of the TV and looked towards the living room entrance only to see your best friend strolling by your housekeeper.

“Thank you, Marisol.” You simply dismissed the middle-aged woman, causing her to nod and walk off.

You were shocked to see Coryo. It's been so long since you've seen him. “Coryo, what're you doing here?” You asked in awe, standing up and closing the distance between the two of you.

Before you could even approach him for a hug (that you so desperately craved from the platinum blonde man), Coriolanus told you. “I've came to ask you for some help testing an invention I've been working on with Dr. Gaul.”

“Oh…” You sadly sighed, letting your disappointment linger heavily in the air. And here you thought he came over to see you because he missed you. No, that wasn't the case. He didn't miss you at all; just needed you to help him on some project for work.

“Darling, what's wrong? I thought you'd be happy to help your best friend.”

“Are we still best friends, Coryo? I never see you anymore.”

“Of course we're still best friends, little dove.” The platinum blonde assured you, pulling you into a tight embrace. His hand trailed up and down your spine in a tantalizing touch that sent shivers throughout your nervous system. “I'll never abandon you, babygirl. I’ve just been preoccupied helping Dr. Gaul with a very important invention and studying for my University classes.” You could feel the thump, thump, thump, of his heartbeat as your head rested against his chest while your arms circled his wait. Hugging him close.

You missed hugging your best friend; you missed his scent and how he made you feel safe.

“I was hoping to see you at the University during lunch, but I haven't been able to. I guess you must be busy or maybe don't take your lunch break in the University’s dining hall.”

“I don't go to University, Coryo.” You told him, causing him to blink and stare at you in disbelief.

Coriolanus couldn't believe his ears. You weren't enrolled at the University. How could that be? You always wanted to study either science or medicine. It was your dream; you always talked so passionately about it before he was sent off to 12 to be a peacekeeper.

“”Why not? I thought you wanted to study science or medicine?”

“My stepfather and mother says it's a waste of time since I'm just going to be a socialite and one day a housewife.” Was the honest answer you gave Coryo.

The platinum blonde man wasn't too pleased by your answer. Not by a long shot. Who were your parents to control you; arrange for you to marry some rich asshole that would suppress you.

If you wanted to study at the University then so be it. You should be able to.

And then a marvelous idea popped into his head. It was a great way to get you to agree to help him test out the vibrator too.

“If you help me by being my test subject tonight, I’ll get you a late midterm enrollment into the University in the science field. I'll even arrange for you to be my intern, considering that I'm Dr. Gaul's assistant.”

“Coryo, you'd do that for me?” You gasped, hand covering your mouth due to your shock.

“Yes, my sweet girl, I'll do that for you." Coriolanus confirmed with a nod. He flashed you that charming, manipulative smile of his, only to say, "I'll do that and more for you, if you just help me out with testing a new invention for me.”

You chewed your bottom lip, thinking over your options. Truthfully, the only option you had was to say yes. Saying yes would both get you into the University and repair the cracks in your friendship with Coryo.

“Okay, I'll help you.” You agreed, smiling at your best friend.

“Excellent.” Coryo smiled, so wide that too many pearly white teeth were showing. The smile seemed feral, perhaps even deranged in a way. Slinging an arm over your shoulders, he suggested, “Let's go, shall we?”

The lab he escorted you to was in the belly of the Citadel. Deep in the basement where nobody would hear you. He had explained, as the elevator made its descent, that the room he was taking you to was soundproof and didn't have any cameras installed in it. That it'd just be you and him; that nobody would ever see the experiment. And he'd just relay his data to his boss, Dr. Gaul.

You didn't know why he told you that. It sounded a bit weird to you, but you just nodded along and told him okay.

You felt a bit nervous as Coriolanus led you down the basement hallway and to a door. He used his electronic key card paired with a panel retina scan to open the door. He led you into the room, only to stop by the doorway to flick on the light switch.

The too bright florescent lights flickered to life, revealing a lab table of sorts with straps and stirrups attached to it. As Coryo slammed the door shut, you noticed that on the counter next to the lab table was some sort of hospital gown and some type of large, thick wand.

You looked over your shoulder at your best friend, only to ask him, “Why’re there straps and stirrups on the lab table? And a hospital gown on the counter, Coryo?”

“It's to test out the new invention, darling.” Coryo told you as if he was talking about the weather. “You'll need to get dressed in the gown and have your legs parted so I can properly conduct the experiment.” He explained while heading over to the counter.

“But the straps, Coryo? Are you going to tie my wrists down too?” You asked, a bit concerned, while trailing behind him.

“It's so you don't try to stop the experiment.” He dryly told you. “Now if we're done playing 20 questions, put this on and get on the lab table.” He said, handing you over the medical gown. Your fingers brushed as he added in, “Oh and take off your panties. Your pussy needs to be bare for this little experiment.”

“What?” You asked, sucking in a deep breath between your teeth. You had to let him see and use your bare pussy for the experiment? Like what? Why? “Coryo, I didn't agree to this…”

“Yes you did, Y/N.” Your best friend reminded you as his icy blue eyes cut right into your soul. Sighing, he rubbed your shoulders. “I promise, you'll like what I'm going to be doing. Just do as you're told, okay?”

“Okay.” You reluctantly gave in. “Can you turn around so I can change?” You asked, feeling a bit awkward about your best friend seeing you naked, as you slipped out of your kitten heels.

“I don't see why it makes a difference, darling. I'm going to see your pussy; might as well see your tits too.” He chuckled, leaning against the counter with his arms folded over his chest. His icy blue eyes roaming over your form as you began to unzip your dress.

“Coryo, you have a girlfriend. Think about how she'd feel if she heard you right now.” You told him, pulling off your dress and folding it up.

“I don't have a girlfriend, Y/N. So whoever told you that's mistaken.” Coryo told you as you placed your dress on the counter.

Your brows rose up in surprise as you unhooked your bra, “Really? But I thought you were seeing Livia Cardew.”

Livia Cardew.

Of course, you knew about him and her. What you didn't know was that it didn't even last a month. And he made sure to tell you that. He also assured you that he was single; had been single for months as you finished undressing.

You were relieved that he wasn't avoiding you because he was spending all of his time with Livia. As you put on the examination gown, you asked Coryo, “If you're not busy with Livia, then why have you been ignoring me?”

Your words made bile rise up into the platinum blonde's throat. He felt sick that you thought he was ignoring you. He wasn't ignoring you. Wasn't he? He's just been busy constructing a life for you two.

A soft look crossed his features as he sighed, “I didn't mean to ignore you, little dove. I've just been busy with my studying and working as Dr. Gaul's assistant.”

“Yea…” You trailed off in a long, airy sigh. You honestly wanted to believe your best friend, but didn't know if you should.

“Let me tie this for you.” Coriolanus offered, gesturing to the hospital gown. You just nodded and turned around, causing him to tie up the little ribbons on the back of the medical gown.

Like with all medical gowns, your ass was showing. The platinum blonde smirked seeing your round ass, only to grab it with his large, calloused hands.

“Coryo?” You asked in a startled tone, looking over your shoulder at your best friend as he massages and rubs your ass.

Coryo just smirked before smacking you on the ass and saying, “Go get on the table.”

Turning around to face him, you said, “I’ll get on the table, but I want to know why you grabbed my ass.”

“Maybe I grabbed it because I'm an ass man; happen to like yours.” Your bestfriend told you with mirth twinkling in his baby blues, only to walk over to the counter to grab what he needed.

“I thought men liked boobs?” You asked while making your way over to the examination table.

“Oh, I like tits too.” Coriolanus stated, in a tone that was too cheerful for the atmosphere of the sterile lab, while pulling a pair of latex gloves out of a box that was on the counter. The loud sound of latex snapping as he pulled on the gloves echoed throughout the room. “Tits and ass. Good ole T&A does it for me.” Coryo joked, trying to cut the tension in the room, as you nervously sat down on the table.

As you adjusted yourself on the table, placing your legs in the stirrups, you heard your best friend ask you, “Do you want me to use the lube or to get you wet the old fashioned way?”, from his place across the room at the counter.

“What?” You asked, your eyes nearly popping out of your head. He couldn't mean?...

“Jesus, Y/N, please tell me you've played with your pussy before. Cause if not…this is going to be one hell of an experience for you.”

“Coriolanus! This isn't something ladies talk about to their gentleman friends.” You scolded him.

Coryo decided to forgo the bottle of lube, opting to just grab the large vibrating wand. Making his way over to you, he said, “That mindset’s why I had to help Dr. Gaul invent a damn vibrator. Because sex's so taboo to talk about in the Capitol.” Coming to a stop at the lab table, he placed the vibrator down on the sheet, right below your spread legs.

“I’ve spent some time in the districts, as you know while serving as a Peacekeeper, so I don't share the same close minded views when it comes to such things.” Coriolanus explained while walking up the length of the table. Stopping where your wrists were, he explained, “I'm not trying to embarrass you, Y/N. I want you to enjoy this thing I've got to test out. And in order for you to do that, I need to know if you've touched yourself before. I need to know if you know what to expect, what to feel.”

“Fine…I’ll answer you.” You gave in while your best friend strapped down your left wrist.

The platinum blonde arched a brow, his hand resting resting on your right wrist, as he waited on baited breath for your answer.

An answer of, “Yes, I've played with myself before. There, you happy now?”

“See, it wasn't so hard to tell me that. Now was it?” Your best friend remarked while strapping in your right wrist. He stroked your hair and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I'll make sure you're nice and wet before we begin. Just relax and enjoy the experiment.”

Coriolanus, true to his word, made sure that you were wet. He used the rough pad of his thumb to circle and tease your clit. He didn't apply to much pressure, just enough to get you moist.

Coriolanus wanted you to enjoy this, but he wanted to make your pussy weep and flood juices from the vibrations of the wand. He could always drive you crazy with his hand another time.

And there’s going to be endless moments between you two after tonight.

“I'm going to start the experiment now. Okay, darling?” Coryo told you, picking up the vibrator and turning it onto the lowest setting.

“Okay.” You nodded.

“Just relax for me.” He instructed before pressing the buzzing wand to your clit.

The light vibration against your clit felt good. So good in fact, that you let out a tiny whimper.

“See, I knew you'd like this.” Your best friend said, only to turn the vibrator up another notch.

“Mmmm…Coryo…” Your breath hitched up in a tiny whine. The slight chance in speed against your clit sent wetness to pool from your pussy.

“You're doing good, my little dove.” Coriolanus praised while teasing your pussy with the vibrator.

Without warning, he turned it up to the third level. He pressed it hard against your clit, needing to see you cum. He craved the sight of your pussy gushing for him. And he'd keep amping up the speed of the vibrator to do it.

And the large industrial vibrator had 10 speed settings.

So…

You were in for a long night.

“Oh my God! Coryo!” You moaned, the vibrations of the third setting on your clit driving you closer to cumming.

“Feels good “ Coryo stated with a smug grin on his face.

“Yes.” You nodded. Your legs, spread wide in the stirrups, began to tense up as you mewled, “Feels so good, Coryo. So, so good.” Your pussy began to spasm as you cried out, “I-I m gonna cum, Coryo.”

“Be a good girl and cum for me.” Your best friend told you, holding the vibrator firmly against your twitching clit. “Cum right now. Do it, cum like the little slut you are.”

You didn't know if it was the vibrations against your clit or the dirty, demanding words Coriolanus told you, but all of a suddenly you were cumming with a moan.

Coriolanus’ icy blue eyes shined in excitement as he watched your juices flow out of your pussy as you came. Oh, he thought you looked so beautiful. He could stare at your soaked, leaky cunt for hours.

You thought that your best friend would turn the vibrator off, unstrap you from the table, and end the experiment with the vibrating wand, but he didn't. In fact, Coriolanus turned it up another notch.

“Coryo, I already came. You gotta stop.” You told him, trying not to let out a high pitched wine, as your clit began to throb.

“Sorry, baby, but we're not stopping until all 10 speeds are tested.” The platinum told you, a mischievous smirk on his lips. Adjusting the pressure he was using to hold the vibrator against your clit, he simply said, “We're only on the 4th speed.”

“Oh no…” You trailed off in a broken moan.

“Oh yes!” He mocked, watching your pussy as it began to pool once more. “Perhaps I should turn it up?” Coryo asked while turning up the speed.

“Coryo!” You screamed as your second orgasm hit you, causing your pussy to spasm and squirt juices onto the lab table you’re on.

“Oh, so you're a squirter?” Coryo asked, a wide smile on his face, as his eyes locked onto yours from his place between your pussy.

If you weren't so blissed out right now you'd be embarrassed.

“I'm going to turn the speed up again, see if we can get you squirting some more.”

“Oh, God, Coryo. Please, please, stop. No more, I'm too sensitive.” You begged, feeling like you couldn't handle any more.

Coriolanus did something you weren't expecting. He stretched out his arm and took your hand in his, holding it. “I know, you're sensitive, baby girl, but you can do this. I know you can go all the 10 speeds for me.”

“Coryo.” You whimpered, lower back arching in an attempt to get away from the vibrations assaulting your puffy, swollen clit.

“Y/N, baby, calm down. You can do this; I wouldn't put you thru this if you couldn't.” Coriolanus told you while cranking the speed up once more.

Coriolanus loves seeing you overstimulated and thrashing about on the table for him as he talking you thru everything. But, his pants were starting to tighten. He needed to fuck you and fast, so that's why he decided to switch the vibrator to level 6 so quickly instead of teasing you.

“Coryo, please, please.” You begged, but for what you didn't even know.

“What do you need, Y/N? You need to cum again?”

“Yea.” You desperately nodded as tears began to brim your eyes. “I'm so sensitive but I need to cum so bad.”

“You're such a little slut for me.” Your best friend chuckled, only to press the vibrator harder against your clit and turn it up to level 7. He adjusted the position slightly, causing you to cum with a loud scream. Once again your pussy squirted your juices everywhere. This time your thighs were wet, the table underneath you was wet, and even Coryo's shirt was soaked.

Coriolanus is positive that if he didn't have you strapped down then you would've flown right up off the lab table.

“I know you're sensitive, but I know you have one more in you. Can you give me one more, baby girl? Hmm?” Coriolanus cooed, stroking your hand with his long fingers as he turned the vibrator up to the next level.

“I dunno, Coryo.” You sighed, feeling listless, as you felt even faster vibrations against your too sensitive and swollen pearl. Your pussy’s quivering and your asshole’s clenching from the overstimulation you're feeling. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you cried, “I-I’m aching so bad, Coryo. I need something more, but I'm so sensitive.”

Coryo knew just what you needed. Your body was craving his cock. And, honestly, his cock was painfully rock hard from watching you that he's going to be stuffing you full once he's made you come again from the vibrator.

“You need my cock, Y/N.” Coriolanus told you, matter of factly. “Don't worry, once we're done, I'll flip you over and fuck you.”

“I'm a virgin, Coryo. I'm supposed to be saving myself for my future husband.” You informed him. You couldn't just sleep with him, you had to stay pure. What would your future husband think if you were already used up on your wedding night. If there wasn't any blood on your thighs to signal that he was the only one to claim your purity as his prize.

“You've done that, darling. You've stayed pure for me, but I can't wait any longer to have you.”

Your toes began to curl and your fingers were clenching into fists as you felt a hot, unbearable tingling began to build up inside of you, despite how overstimulated and sore your clit was. “You want to marry me?” You asked, more like moaned, as Coriolanus turned the vibrator up to the 9th level.

Your nails dug into his left hand as your pain began to turn into pleasure once more. Coriolanus thought you were so beautiful like this. Spread out before him, helpless and to his mercy. All fucked out, begging for things you didn't even know you wanted or needed- until now.

Oh, and the unorthodox marriage proposal was the icing on the cake for the platinum blonde man. Made this night all the more special. “Of course I want to marry you, Y/N. I'd be a fool not too.”

Tears blurred your vision, sticking to your lashes, as you wailed, “Coryo, please, this is too much.”

“You're doing such a good job for me, darling.” Coriolanus praised you, causing warmth to pool in your lower belly. “Just one more speed and it'll all be over, baby girl. Just one more for me, yea?” Coriolanus assured you as his lust blown eyes raked over your writhing form that was strapped down.

“Okay. Just one more.” You agreed, causing him to turn the vibrator onto the last setting.

The 10th speed.

The vibrations sent a harsh jolt straight to your core. You became an overstimulated, babbling mess. Your head thrashed, your pussy spasmed, your asshole clenched, your legs shook, and your eyes were literally blinded with tears. The feeling was oh so much. It was both euphoria and hell at the same time. The pain ebbed into pleasure, a white hot pleasure that seemed impossible to reach.

And before you knew it, you were cumming hard with Coryo's name on your lips like a prayer.

Coryo quickly turned off the vibrator and tossed it to the side. The large wand crashed into something, but he didn't care. He just needed to get you unstrapped so he could fuck your 5th orgasm into you.

Fuck, he was so hard and needed your cunt so bad.

Quickly, Coriolanus pulled your legs out of the stirrups and lowered tje metal things down to the sides of the table. Then he rushed up to the top of the table. To free your arms.

You were panting and fluttering your eyelashes, attempting to see thru all of your tears, as your best friend quickly unbuckled your wrist straps. “You did such a good job for me, baby.” Coriolanus praised you. Kissing you on the forehead, as your newly freed arms limply lay by your side, he asked, “Can you sit up for me or are you too fucked out?”

“I dunno, Coryo.” You honestly told him. Your body was numb with pleasure, so you had no idea if you could sit or not.

“Shit, did I break you?” He asked, pride laced in his baritone, as he helped you to sit up.

“I’m fine, just feel a bit numb’s all.” You told him, pressing your face against his chest as he held you.

“Yea, you're too fucked out.” Coriolanus proudly chuckled.

Lifting your head up to look at him, you innocently asked, “Why's your shirt all wet for, Coryo?”

“That's all you, little dove.” He told you while petting your hair. “You came so hard; soaked everything near that pretty little pussy of yours.”

“Oh…” You buried your face in his chest. You were embarrassed; afraid of his reaction to you cumming so messily. “That's never happened before when I- you know- while alone in bed.” You admitted, hoping that he wouldn't think you were weird or something for making such a mess.

Coriolanus found your innocence to be cute. You were embarrassed about the spectacular show you put on for him.

And only him.

Because you've never made yourself squirt before.

Pride swelled in his chest at the mere fact that he had you squirting over and over again.

Him.

“Y/N, my dove, what you did was natural. It was very special too.”

“It was?” You asked, lifting your head to look up at him.

“Yea.” Coryo nodded. “Not everyone can squirt.” He explained with a smile. Pressing his forehead against yours and bringing your hand to cup the large bulge in his too tight pants, he said, “I need to fuck you so bad. Make you mine, Y/N.”

You palmed his bulge, causing him to let out a strangled moan. “Did you mean it when you said that I don't have to wait anymore? That you’ll marry me without my virginity?”

“Y/N, my darling rose, of course I'm going to marry you.” Coriolanus told you with a firm certainly in his voice as he cupped your face in his large, calloused hands. “I’m the one taking your virginity and I'm the one that's marrying you, so the order of the two doesn't really matter.” He told you in a tone that was too sweet, perhaps even on the verge of manipulative.

Coriolanus kissed you, his lips pressing against yours in a passionate, bruising force. You were taken back by the kiss, but quickly responded to it by melding your lips with his. It felt like he was sucking all of the air out of your lungs as he kissed you.

Breaking the kiss, his lips ghosted yours as he swore, “I'll bring you home with me tonight after we fuck and tomorrow I'll go talk to the general; tell him about our engagement.”

“I'm going to need a ring.” You reminded him, a small smile on your lips.

“I'll tell Grandma’am I'm ready to give you her heirloom ring in the morning. She'll know what that means.” Coriolanus assured you while picking you up and bending you over the lab table. Unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, he warned, “This is going to be quick.” You heard his pants pool around his ankles as he told you. “You’ll enjoy it, but I'm too hard and you're too stimulated for me to drag this out too long.”��

Coryo quickly pulled down his boxers, causing his cock to slap against his stomach. “Hold onto the edge of the table, Y/N.” He instructed, grasping his dick and giving it a few pumps.

Looking over your shoulder, as he lined his angry red tip at your soaking wet entrance, you asked, “Is this going to hurt, Coryo? I heard it hurts the first time.”

“With how your hole’s sloppy and dripping, my cock’ll easily slip in. The stretch might burn, but it won't hurt.” He explained before pushing into you.

You bit your lower lip as you felt his large cock stretch out your tight walls. It stung a bit, like he said it would, but it wasn't painful. Not like some of the rumors you heard.

“Such a good girl for me, baby.” Coriolanus praised you. Continuing to push himself into your tight, wet heat, he pressed a kiss to your spine (a part that was exposed by the gap in your medical gown) and cooed, “You're taking me so well.” His breath was hot against your skin as he assured you, “Just a little bit more and I'll be balls deep, Y/N.”

Coryo and you both let out little moans whenever he bottomed out. He felt so good inside of you. You felt so full, and it fanned the flames of your desire for him. And Coriolanus felt that being sheathed in your tight, wet warmth was heaven. The feeling of your cunt gripping his cock was better than anything he could've ever imagined.

When he pulled his hips back, causing his cock to deliciously drag against your walls, and pushed them forward, driving his cock deep inside of you; hitting your special spot deep within you, you let out a delighted scream.

“That's it, let me hear you scream for me, my good little slut.” Coryo told you, his hips roughly snapping against yours as he chased down both your highs.

He knew with how sensitive you were that it wouldn't take much to get you cumming. He also knew that if he pounded into you mercilessly then he'd be quickly cumming too.

“Feels so good Coryo.” You whined, clawing at the edge of the table as you felt the head of his cock press up against the spongy spot inside of you. The spot that had your cunt clenching around him.

“Fuck, your cunt's so tight. So perfect, baby.” Coryo began to babble, the feeling of your tight virgin pussy sending him into overdrive. He swears, it feels as if your cunt was made for his cock. It fit him like a glove. A perfect fit. Squeezes him just right, takes him without any problems.

Coriolanus was pussydrunk on your perfect pussy. A pussy that he was claiming as his.

And only he's allowed to pound your pussy. Paint its walls white with his cum.

You let out a loud shriek when you felt his cum heavy balls slap against your oversensitive clit. That only causes him to dig his long fingers harder into your hips and piston even harder into you.

The lewd sound of your cunt loudly squelching paired with skin slapping skin and your loud moans filled the lab. The lab table beneath you was shaking from how hard Coriolanus was fucking you from behind. But you were so out of it with pleasure that you were worried around the table flipping over.

And even if it did, that wouldn't stop the platinum blonde from fucking into you like his life depended on it. No, he'd just keep pounding your pussy.

“You feel close.” Coriolanus gritted out as his fast paced movements got sloppier. “I'm close too, baby.”

“I’m gonna cum, Coryo. I-I’m gonna cum.” You announced in a mewl, your hips pushing back against his in a desperate attempt to chase your release.

“Me too. Me too.” Coryo told you while bending his body over yours, pressing his chest flush against your back, and grabbing your hands with his while rutting into you as quickly as he could. "Fuck, I'm gonna fill you up with my cum. Fuck a baby in you; show everyone yours mine."

All you could do was let out a string of babbled broken cries as Coriolanus had you cumming for the 5th time. And as your cunt tightly clenched him, he made a couple more sloppy thrusts before shooting his hot, thick ropes of cum into your womb.

Coriolanus laid on top of you, holding you as his cock was still buried inside of your pussy. He let go of your hand, only to grab your jaw and bring your head up towards his. Using his thumb, he wrenched your jaw open, only to hover his lips above your parted ones and spit into your mouth. The feel of it was disgusting, unnatural even, but without even thinking twice you swallowed his spit.

Coriolanus’ baby blues sparkle with possessiveness as he watches you swallow down his spit as if it was fine wine. Caressing your jaw, he told you, “You're not just my best friend, Y/N. You're my girl.”

His girl. That made your insides melt. You’ve always wanted to be his girl. You've always loved him.

And now you're his girl.

FINALLY

His girl.

“I'll help you get dressed in a minute, then we'll go home.” He told you before leaning in to give you a kiss.

“Okay.” You whispered against his lush lips.

Oh, how you couldn't wait for him to take you home with him. Where you belong.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth

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twoflowers · 3 months ago

Text

Sentimentality - Sanji x Reader

Read on AO3

Description: The newest addition to the Straw Hat crew grapples with their easy affection, and especially with the attention from their doting cook.

Tags: SFW, character study, slight slash, scientist reader, no use of Y/N, female reader. First impressions, nakamaship.

Word count: 1397

Special thanks to @mere-mortifer for the encouragement to post my Sanji fics. I love your Sanji very much.

This one isn't very slash-y and honestly feels a bit incomplete to me, but I'm obsessed with this man in a psychological way and need to post at least something, even if it captures only an ounce of my insanity about him and the crew.

Also: thinking about making this into more of a series (as the reader is kind of based on an OC of mine...!). Please, please, Sanji fans: give me any and every prompt you can imagine.

Sentimentality

Every morning you settle into the golden-glowing comfort of the breakfast table: the press of arms against arms, the jostling of bodies to the time of the waves, the hard wooden bench softened despite it all.

The captain is not at all what you expected. He’s a kid, and a downright grabby one at that. You have to slap his rubbery hands away from your plate at every meal, and if you don’t catch him, Nami always does.

You sit next to Chopper, whose tiny, furry body is so very warm. He likes to plan the day over breakfast, still thrilled to have another scientist on board. You watch him nibble at pancakes with his blocky teeth (it really is hard not to coo over him, but he has his dignity to uphold, so you restrain yourself!) and sip his milk and grin, white mustache and all. Robin leans over with a napkin to clean Chopper’s mouth, and he fusses, but concedes. Some of his drawings hang on the fridge, secured by magnets. You think of siblings with a pang in your chest every time you see them.

Roronoa Zoro is inexplicably softer than you imagined. There’s something about the curve of his cheeks, the careless sprawling stance, the way his nose whistles lightly while he sleeps. He barks laughter at Luffy, leans on his swords like they’re children, even smells better than Nami likes to say.

Robin terrified you at first, but you quickly became a sucker for her mellow gaze and old book smell. Besides, educated women are always of interest to you. Nami and Robin are incredible, always encouraging: proof that somehow, someway, a woman who has been chased out of her old life and hunted by the darkest parts of herself can uncurl and be seen.

The first few sleepless nights aboard the Going Merry, you stared at the ceiling, heart pounding at the vulnerability of sharing a room. You are a scientist. You’ve long denounced the need for sentimentality, though Luffy manages to wring a few spare drops out of you every day. How could you have accounted for the love that permeates every board of this ship? How have you gone your entire life wondering if belonging like this could exist, only to find it among a notorious pirate crew- a crew who, really, is more bumbling than you could have imagined? How can Luffy stroll into any place- town, restaurant, heart- and break down every wall without a second thought?

And the cook…

You have to look away from him sometimes. The first time he made a meal for you, he sank to a kneel to present it, like he was a servant and you were a queen who could take his head at any moment, and have it willingly. You took the plate with shaking hands and nodded a thank you. When he stood back up, there was a bit of dust on the knee of his fine-pressed pants. You kept your eyes on it as he fluttered around, crooning to the women and brusquely serving the men. What were you supposed to make of that?

Sanji squeezes your heart like it’s an old rag. The way he remembers your favored flavor profiles makes your toes curl. You’re not even sure you’ve managed to smile at him yet, even a month after joining the crew, because he throws you so off-balance you’re left feeling like you’ve been thrust into a hurricane without any solid structure to grip onto.

His… whatever it is- admiration, loyalty, devotion, all of the above and more- has only gotten stronger in the past month. He floats into the lab as if on a cloud to tell you he made you a snack and left it outside, mindful of the potential for contamination. He tells you how lovely your eyes look that day, and every day- that you are the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, and that he lives to serve you.

“A snack for you is outside, miss,” he says today, like he’s itching to bow. “I prepared carrot cake and spiced milk for you, with turmeric, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Let me know if anything is not to your liking.”

You side-eye him from your bench, pipette paused in midair. Miss, miss, miss. Every time he says it you’re left breathless. As usual, you nod and mutter a thank you, still focusing on your work, lest you do something stupid like offering him your hand to kiss or backing him into a wall to taste his neck.

He usually leaves right away, but you don’t hear the door close today. When you look back at Sanji, he’s beaming, eyes practically heart-shaped.

“May I make anything else for you?”

“No. That will suffice.” Something in your chest is shouting at you for being so formal with him.

“I like carrot cake,” you add.

Sanji’s smile turns tremulous and melty. A hand moves to cover his heart. “I will keep that in mind. And I don’t wish to disturb you- your work is very important- but it will be best eaten soon, while it’s still warm.”

You surprise yourself by setting down your pipette and moving to the sink to wash your hands. Sanji is still lingering at the door as you scrub between your fingers and under your nails, similar to the way he washes his after handling raw meat. You take extra time drying off, the feeling of him behind you prickling at your neck.

In the hallway, the cake and milk are placed carefully on a table. The mug is to the top right of the plate, handle tilted at the perfect angle for you to grab. A dainty dessert fork leans against the plate, next to two sprigs of mint forming a heart.

“I almost don’t want to eat it,” you say. “It looks perfect.”

“I can make you as many as you’d like, all with love. Please. It’s my pleasure.”

You lift the fork, and Sanji leans forward with the eagerness of a child witnessing a magic trick. When you take a bite of the cake, his visible eye widens.

“It’s delicious. Thank you, Sanji.”

Sanji lets out a shaky breath. “Of course, miss. I can make you anything your heart desires, provided I have the ingredients. And if I don’t, I will make sure to procure them as soon as we make landfall. And if you want them before that, I'll swim to shore.”

Why does the man have such puppy-dog eyes? You know with certainty that he would do anything you asked of him, or else die trying, and you’ve hardly spoken to him. There’s a string of tension in his body when he’s around you, loosened slightly now that you’ve complimented his food. Is he just that eager to please?

You have met many men happy to go through the motions of wooing you for one reason alone, but something about Sanji tells you that he would be at your beck and call for the rest of your life, even if you never said “thank you” again.

You nod, moving to try the spiced milk, which is, of course, perfect.

“I noticed that you like cinnamon, so I tweaked the recipe to add more.” He sounds hopeful. “You don’t find the turmeric overpowering?”

“No, no,” you shake your head, lowering the drink. “It’s good. You’re very… perceptive.”

“Of course! I pay special attention to my lovely ladies.”

You’re included in this group, somehow. Why does that make you want to push and prod at him, despite the measured indifference you’ve culminated?

“Sanji,” you say, and he snaps to attention.

“Yes?”

“Could I have some marmalade with this?”

This is the first time you’ve requested anything from him. A broad smile spreads across his face.

“Right away.” He falls into a bow before walking down the hallway. When he’s out of view, you hear him begin to run, legs pounding the wooden floor strong enough to rattle the pictures frames on the walls.

You pluck a sprig of mint from the cake, grinding it between your teeth. It’s refreshing, new, with a bit of a kick. You smile to yourself, imagining Sanji in the kitchen, carefully scooping marmalade into a dainty dish, heart thrumming with the thrill of receiving an order from his newest object of affection.

#sanji x reader #one piece sanji #opla x reader #one piece x reader #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x you #character study #fluff #this is my first fic for sanji and it's not very slashy #but it certainly contains some of my tenderness for this silly cook #sub sanji #sure i'll tag that!#sanji calling me miss would fix me.#my fics

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remnantglow · 5 months ago

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hi! sorry to bother! any sci fi recommendations with women in them? gay women would slap but i don’t want to be too demanding.

that is not too demanding at all! all of these are heavily focused on women & almost all have gay protags:

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone - poetic romance novella about two women on opposing sides of a war spanning all of time, unfolding through letters

The Space Between Worlds by Micaiah Johnson* - a tense, dark story about a world in which travel between parallel universes is monopolized, and a woman who is dead in almost every single one

Ammonite by Nicola Griffith - 90s lesbian/feminist scifi classic; thoughtful social sci-fi set on a world where a virus killed off all men and most of the women, about an anthropologist who's come to study the inhabitants and test a vaccine

The Echo Wife by Sarah Gailey - domestic thriller about a brilliant scientist whose husband clones her to make a "better" (more docile & housewife-y) version of her - and is then killed by the clone, leaving the two women to cover up the murder

The Luminous Dead by Caitlin Starling - unsettling, claustrophobic horror about a caver on an alien world, her untrustworthy handler being her only contact with the surface world

The Fortunate Fall by Cameron Reed* - bleak, heartwrenching 90s cyberpunk about a lesbian news reporter in a dystopian regime who uncovers more than she bargained for

Light From Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki* - emotional & hopeful scifi/fantasy mix about a trans violin prodigy, her teacher who has a deal with the devil, and an alien running a donut shop

some more, rapid-fire: Dawn by Octavia Butler* (iconic classic sf, first contact); The Telling by Ursula K. Le Guin (social sf, envoy-on-alien-world); The Seep by Chana Porter (utopian, unique take on alien invasion); The Splinter in the Sky by Kemi Ashing-Giwa (space opera, spy thriller); The Paradox Hotel by Rob Hart (time travel, murder mystery); The Outside by Ada Hoffman (cosmic horror); Gearbreakers by Zoe Hana Mikuta (dystopian YA, mecha); Woman on the Edge of Time by Marge Piercy* (classic sf, time travel)

(*books with an asterisk are ones I'd particularly recommend looking up the content warnings for, as they can get quite heavy)

#i could keep going honestly there is SO much good scifi with women in it.#&it was no bother at all!!! i love recommending scifi :]#in fact feel free to get way more specific than that. this was easy mode #books

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 10 months ago

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4: UNDERCOVER MISSION

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

The tension between you and Bucky builds during an undercover mission.

Word count: 4.2k

Warning: ongoing miscommunications, some dirty talk, Bucky Barnes being am awkward dumbass

The mission was simple, but you didn’t want to be the one taking part. It was an undercover op where you had to integrate yourself into a community of people who were high-ranking members of a terrorist organization. It was a challenge for the other Avengers to mask their infamy. So you and Bucky were the natural choice since Bucky was now unrecognizable from his appearance as the Winter Soldier. Also, times had progressed, and S.H.I.E.L.D. technology allowed him to disguise his vibranium arm with a hologram. The first time he had put it on, a look of sadness had crossed his handsome features. He had hidden it well from the scientists and engineers, but you could see it in his eyes, the hollow haunted glaze that made you long to throw your arms around his neck and hold him until he would smile and the small crinkles around his eyes would lengthen as this steel-blue orbs sparkled. But this wasn’t your place anymore.

"Jamie! Look how amazing you look!" Priya exclaimed.

You rolled your eyes and scowled. Who had allowed her to attend the fitting in the first place? Glancing around, you couldn’t see anyone else who seemed to object to Priya’s presence. In fact, some of the men and women seemed to be more focussed on her appearance than they were interested in the success of Bucky’s holographic arm technology.

"Yeah, it’s gotten better." Bucky flexed his bicep and opened and closed his fist, marveling at how realistic the skin looked. "Thanks," he nodded at the project lead.

"How does it feel, Jamie?"

Bucky shrugged. "Can't feel anything."

"It looks so realistic! Will you wear it all the time?"

You were lost in tracing the contours of Bucky’s muscular back and shoulders when Priya’s words brought you back to reality. “He doesn't need to wear it all the time,” you snapped.

“No, of course not,” Priya replied calmly, as though you were one of her small patients throwing a temper tantrum. “But sometimes James doesn't like the attention his arm draws. It makes him uncomfortable. So it would be good to have an option for him to avoid people staring.”

She was right, it would be good for Bucky to be able to wear t-shirts without being stared at, or feeling ashamed or self conscious. You despised that Bucky had to hide who he was. He was a veteran and shouldn’t have to feel the need to hide the sacrifices he had made for his country. But his past as the Winter Soldier was well known, making him a target for drawing scrutiny. You gritted your teeth, trying to formulate a counter-argument but failing. It was excruciating watching Bucky put a loving arm around her, pulling her into his side. He used to do that to you, just never so publicly.

“Thanks, Doll. It’s good to have someone looking out for me.”

The urge to punch Bucky in the face was something you did your best to push away. “Yeah, you don’t really need me here.” You slipped off the table you were perched on and turned to walk away.

"Don’t you and Bucky have to pretend to be a couple?" Priya called after you. "For this mission?"

Her questions made you stop in your tracks. Had Bucky really shared the sensitive information regarding your mission with his girlfriend?

"Yeah?" you answered, cautiously.

“Shouldn’t you hang around and see how Bucky is in a relationship then?”

“Thanks Priya, but I don’t need instructions on how to act in a relationship.” Your tone was laced with the spite you felt.

"Cricket!" Bucky looked at you, angrily.

You hated it. It hurt that he felt these emotions towards you. But you were desperate not to lose his friendship. In a way, you hated yourself for not having the courage to tell Bucky how you felt. And you knew that if you wanted to keep your friendship with him, you would be the one who needed to stay civil. It was harder that you’d originally thought. You were a good agent, you excelled at undercover work, but when it came to Bucky, you felt like you’d lost your mind. Your emotions were a rollercoaster ride and you often felt like you couldn’t hold back your screams any longer.

“I’m sorry, I-I-”

“It’s alright, Jamie.” Priya put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, that probably sounded really patronizing. I just want James… both of you to be safe.”

You nodded, a heat rising up your neck and reddening your cheeks. She knew. The pitying look on her face told you that she knew how you felt about Bucky. It was humiliating. This would have been the perfect time for the ground to open up and swallow you. But alas, of all the times you’d been surprised by the loss of integrity beneath your feet, this was the one time where the floor remained as sturdy as ever.

“Don’t worry, Cricket and I have been partners for a long time. We’ve got this. I’m sure she’ll take good care of me.” He turned to you and smiled softly. “She always does.”

You didn’t quite know how to interpret Bucky’s use of partners, he had always called you his friend. What had changed now? You returned his smile sadly. “I'll do my best.”

Bucky took the hologram off his arm and handed it back to its creator. “I'll come by tomorrow for this. Come on, Priya,” he put a hand on her back. “I'll take you home, I need to get an early night, we leave pretty early tomorrow.”

Priya smiled at him, “Sounds great, I can say goodbye properly there.”

With a heavy heart, you watched them leave before following at a distance where you wouldn’t have to hear their chatter. Bucky had never looked so animated before and jealousy burned inside you. So you decided to head back to your quarters where you could treat yourself to a comforting dinner and fall asleep to escape the pain and anxiety of what was to come.

Your alarm went off at 4.30am and you groaned, rolling out of bed. There was no time to lounge around, there was a mission to complete and you always set your alarm for the last minute. A quick bracing shower woke you sufficiently enough for you to dress in a light, comfortable travel outfit and grab some coffee in the kitchen at the end of your corridor. You finished making a coffee for yourself and were pouring the leftovers into a travel mug when a slightly disheveled Bucky made an appearance.

"Thanks," he grunted, taking the mug you offered him.

"I thought you were getting an early night?" you smirked at him.

"Always a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?" he replied, sarcastically.

"What happened? Goodbye took longer than expected?"

It was Bucky’s turn to smirk. "Actually, we ended up having to say it several times."

His words made your face fall and your eyes twitch dangerously. It was time to retreat from this conversation. "We should get going."

Bucky nodded, falling instep beside you silently. He had noticed the change in your tone.

"Cricket?"

"Is everything okay between us?"

"Yeah! Why do you ask?" Your face remained impassive, but your soul was screaming with fear.

"Things have changed so much. I guess… I was just checking."

"You don’t think we can do this?" you asked, trying to deflect from the real issue at hand. But your question held more depth than you cared to admit.

"It just feels like we’re not as … in sync as we used to be."

"And why do you think that is, Bucky?"

Bucky stopped walking. "Ever since I introduced you to Priya, you’ve built this wall between us. I don’t understand what your problem is, Cricket. She’s been nothing but nice to you."

You took a deep breath, knowing you needed to choose your words very carefully or the truth would come spilling out and the embarrassment would be unbearable. "I don’t have a problem with Priya."

"Then what is it? What is your problem?"

You tried to think of an answer, but the only words that your brain screamed at you were "I LOVE YOU!"

"I don’t know," you whimpered. You bit down on your lower lip to stop it trembling, but nothing could stop the tears building up in your eyes. You dropped your head to hide your face but not soon enough for Bucky to catch sight of the water fall from your eyes.

Bucky wrapped his arm around you, sweeping you into a much needed hug. He smelled like home. You missed his warmth, the closeness you’d had. Bucky’s sturdiness made you want to melt into him, to break down, to confess your feelings to him. But the vibration of your phone brought you back to your sad lonely reality.

"Hello?" you answered the device.

Bucky wiped a stray tear from your face with his thumb as he listened to Steve’s voice asking where you were.

"We’re coming, Steve." Bucky raised his voice so Steve would be able to hear him through the phone in your hand, before reaching over and hanging up the phone. "You gonna be okay?"

You nodded, sadly.

"I'm worried about you, you know that, right?"

"I'll be fine, Bucky. I won't fuck this up."

"Not the mission. Fuck the mission. I'm worried about you."

"I'll be fine, Buck. But thank you… for caring."

The two of you reached the hangar bay where Steve was waiting impatiently with your mission packs. He handed them to you wordlessly, analyzing your faces for signs of concern. You avoided eye contact with him, hoping he wouldn't notice your slightly reddened eyes.

"This one's important. We all need this to work."

"We got this, Cap!" You saluted him with a grin plastered across your face.

Steve rolled his eyes at you and even Bucky couldn't help but smile as you led the way to the quinjet. Bucky was going to fly the two of you to a southern Italian resort where the conference was taking place. The conference was a cover for major arms dealers and Bucky would be posing as a representative to a S.H.I.E.L.D. fabricated 'bad guy’ named Zandor.

Bucky’s cover was James Road, Zandor’s right hand man and you were playing Sabrina Road, James's wife. You had been told to expect a high end affair at a deluxe resort where the various representatives would schmooze with each other, gathering intelligence and allies. You weren't worried about your safety, not with Bucky at your side, but you didn't want your cover blown or to fail to get what you needed.

Bucky had once told you that he had never felt like a ‘James’, Bucky was the only name he had really known. It always made you wonder why he never asked Priya to call him ‘Bucky’. You wondered how he would react to you calling him James for the next few days.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Bucky interrupted your musings.

"Hmm?" You turned to face him, hoping he wouldn’t ask too many intrusive questions. For some reason, tears seemed too close to the surface for your liking these days.

Bucky set the quinjet’s controls to autopilot and swiveled his chair to face you. "Steve gave me something before we left. One of them is for you."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small velvet box. Inside it were a beautiful pair of matching wedding rings, made of a shiny rose gold. Bucky slipped one onto his finger and held his hand out, palm facing up. But the other ring wasn’t what he was offering. He was holding out his hand for you to take, so he could place the ring on your finger. What you wouldn’t give for that moment to be real!

"Here, hand it over." You snatched the ring unceremoniously out of the velvet box, your heart pounding. The metal was cool against your skin, and you marveled at the delicate craftsmanship. The rose gold glimmered in the soft light of the quinjet’s cabin, casting a warm glow.

Bucky’s eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the ring back from you. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. For a moment, the world outside the quinjet ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, suspended in this charged atmosphere.

He held your hand gently, turning it so your palm faced down. The ring slid onto your finger smoothly, a perfect fit. He wanted nothing more than to hold on to you forever, lost in the comfort of your touch and your eyes. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. His cerulean eyes held a mixture of vulnerability and determination. It was as if he was silently saying, this is real, even if it’s just for this mission.

"James," you whispered, testing out the name. It felt strange on your tongue, yet oddly right. He didn’t flinch or correct you. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

"Sabrina," he murmured, his lips brushing your knuckles. The intimacy of the moment stole your breath away. You wondered if he could hear your heart racing.

The quinjet hummed around you, cocooning you both in its metal embrace. Outside, the world continued to spin, but here, in this stolen instant, time stood still. You wanted to believe that this wasn’t just part of the mission—that maybe, just maybe, there was something more between you and Bucky.

But reality crashed back in. The mission, the danger, the arms dealers—they all loomed ahead. You couldn’t afford distractions. Not now.

"Thank you," you said softly, meeting his gaze. "For this."

Bucky’s smile was bittersweet. "We’ll get through this, Cricket. Just like we always do."

And with that promise hanging in the air, you both returned to your roles—the undercover couple, James and Sabrina Road. But as the quinjet soared toward Italy, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this mission held more than just secrets and lies. Perhaps, hidden beneath it all, there was a chance for something real.

The rings on your fingers seemed to whisper their own silent vows, binding you together in this dangerous dance. And for now, that was enough.

Bucky landed the quinjet in a small isolated airspace that had been predetermined to be safe by S.H.I.E.L.D.. Nat had scouted the area a few days previously and ensured an SUV was waiting for you. Both of you changed into casual holiday clothing.

Bucky’s transformation was nothing short of remarkable. The once stoic and battle-worn soldier now stood before you, bathed in sunlight, a vision of rugged charm. His light blue shirt clung to his broad chest, the top buttons undone, revealing a tantalizing hint of skin and chest hair. Beige slacks hung low on his hips, tailored to perfection. The aviators perched on his nose lent an air of mystery, shielding eyes that had seen too much. He was beautiful.

And then there was you. In a pink floral print summer dress, you were a burst of color against the backdrop of wilderness. The fabric swirled around your legs as you turned, catching the sunlight like a thousand petals. Bucky’s jaw dropped, mirroring your own reaction. His gaze traced the delicate curve of your collarbone, the soft slope of your shoulders. The air crackled with unspoken tension of the last few weeks.

The change in location seemed to have freed you from the burden of your emotions. There was a thrill of anticipation that bubbled inside you. Was it excitement or anxiety? You never could be certain, but you felt it at the start of every mission. It was you and Bucky against the world and there was no one else you'd trust more with your life. Steve and Nat had brainstormed a few ideas for James and Sabrina’s relationship but they left the details down to the two of you. They had decided that the couple you were playing would be newly weds, as Nat always said, people were uncomfortable with public displays of affection. They had even gone as far as securing the honeymoon suite for your stay.

As the bellhop ushered you and Bucky into the honeymoon suite, the room unfolded before your eyes, a symphony of silk, candlelight, and rose petals. The air hung heavy with anticipation, like a secret whispered in the dark. The bed, a grand centerpiece, stretched out like an invitation, an intimate promise.

Yet, despite the plush surroundings and the illusion of newlywed bliss, unease settled in your chest. You stole a glance at Bucky, his features were etched in sunlight and his eyes, usually steely and guarded, now held a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in a long time. Perhaps it was the flickering glints of light between the net curtains or the soft strains of music playing in the background, but this charade felt more real than you’d anticipated.

The bed loomed large, its expanse inviting yet treacherous. It was a stage, and you were the actors, playing roles scripted by someone else. You remembered the nights when Bucky’s warmth had chased away your nightmares, the way his fingers traced constellations on your skin. But this bed wasn’t meant for whispered confessions or stolen kisses, it was but a prop, a cruel reminder of what you couldn’t have.

You glanced at Bucky again, wondering if he felt the same dissonance. His jaw was clenched, and his gaze lingered on the bed. Did he remember the nights in safe houses, huddled together for warmth? Or was this just another mission, another mask to wear?

"I guess this is a bit of a waste, huh?" Bucky commented, dismissing the tension.

You forced a laugh. "Let's get this over with."

Bucky followed you out of the suite, his awareness heightened by the people milling around. As you were about to mention their presence to him, his arm slid around your shoulder. You smiled up at him, perhaps the bond between you hadn’t completely faded. In the lobby, a lounge area beckoned, its bar opening onto a sunlit terrace and pool.

"What do you think, James? Too early for a drink?" you asked.

"It’s always happy hour somewhere, baby," Bucky replied with a charming smirk.

He ordered drinks for both of you, and you settled near Nadal, your target, who was downing mimosas as if his life depended on them. He was an older Latino man who was not only handsome, but impeccably groomed. He was dressed in casual clothing, but his attire radiated power nevertheless. Bucky placed your drink in front of you, sitting close, his arm around your waist.

"Time to put on a show?" Bucky inquired.

You smirked, sliding onto his lap. "Jameeeeeeees," you whined loudly. "I thought we were on holiday. Is this why you didn’t want to take me to Hawaii? You’re always working. What about me? I have needs too, you know!"

It worked—Nadal’s attention was now squarely on you.

Bucky chuckled, locking eyes with the target. "Women!"

"Can’t live with ‘em," Nadal drawled.

"Can't fuck anything else."

You stiffened with surprise with Bucky's language. You noticed he was more reserved about using foul language, you had always chalked it up to being Steve’s influence. Now that Bucky had Nadal’s attention, they chatted amicably and you took the opportunity to make the most of your surroundings; identifying security cameras, bodyguards and escape routes. You hadn’t noticed how much you had been squirming around on Bucky’s lap, because his grip on your thighs suddenly became very tight, holding you still.

His action didn’t go unnoticed by Nadal. "Save the action for the bedroom, kids!"

Bucky slapped your ass, salaciously and you gasped. You hadn’t expected it, neither had you expected the rush of desire between your legs. "James," you whined. It was clear that your role on this mission was mostly to cast suspicion away from your partner, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t play your part well. "You promised me you wouldn’t do that in public. You know what it does to me," you pouted.

"Better not let the little lady down, Road." Nadal winked, rising from his seat. "What room are you two in?"

"Managed to bag the honeymoon suite, for this one."

"Ahh, so it’s you I lost out to?" he chuckled. "Well my husband and I will be next door. Try and keep it down, your wife seems like a screamer." With that Nadal left you and Bucky alone in the bar feeling uncomfortable in more ways than one.

"Guess we’ll have to give them a show tonight," you grumbled, dropping out of Bucky’s lap.

"Yeah," Bucky replied, but from the way he was gazing off into the distance, you weren’t totally sure he was listening.

"What is it?"

"The competition."

"Great," you mumbled. "Guess we gotta get access to the intel before they do."

"What do you think our chances are if we play it by the book?"

"Slim, they look like they mean business. And they probably have the funds to challenge our bid."

"Should we go back to the room? Nadal is probably expecting some… noise." Bucky looked uncomfortable as he spoke.

"And we’ll be better equipped to know if they leave their room."

It didn’t take long for the two of you to saunter back to the suite, Bucky’s hands were all over you and you couldn’t help but wish that it was voluntary rather than duty. You kept up a shrill giggle to make people around you look away. Once in the room, neither of you seemed to know how to proceed. Bucky had never been forthcoming with his feelings at the best of times, often switching them off when it came to work.

"So, umm… so what now?" you asked.

"He’s probably in there right now." Bucky put his ear to the wall as you waited silently for his assessment. "Someone's moving around, don't hear any talking."

"Set up a camera so we know when they leave?" You pulled a small device out of your bag, tossing it to Bucky. "There was a plant on the table outside."

Bucky didn't need to be told twice, he was out the door and back in under 30 seconds.

"Wait!" You whispered urgently. "Slam it shut."

Bucky complied with your request, with a confused frown. His eyes went from narrowed to goggle-like as you moaned loudly.

"Ohhhh James!"

Bucky gave you a horrified look before mouthing at you across the room. "What’re you doing?"

"James, I want you!" You delivered your line with as much lust as you could muster. Smirking at him, you dropped your voice. "Giving them the show they're after."

"Oh God, you make me so wet. I love when you push me up against the wall."

You motioned wildly at Bucky, who rolled his eyes and threw himself against the wall of the neighboring room for effect.

"I've been waiting for this all day. I want you so bad. Here, feel!"

Bucky closed his eyes, a deep flush darkening his face as you looked at him expectantly.

"God, you're so wet, baby." Bucky's voice was husky. And for a moment you wondered how he sounded in bed.

Focus! You told yourself.

"Only for you, baby. I can't get enough of you touching me. I want your fingers inside me." You continued, pressing your face against the wall. "I can't wait until I get to rip these pants off of you."

"What do you want me to do to you?" Bucky eventually found words to contribute, having turned away from you.

You loudly moaned a few more times for effect. "Come on Mr Road, my badass arms dealer husband, you can do better than that!" you goaded him in a whisper.

"Are you serious?" he muttered.

"Tell me how much you want me," you cried.

Bucky thought for a moment, before choking out. "I want you so much, baby. I want to feel myself inside you and I want to fuck you so hard. Now get on the bed." Not once as he spoke did he make direct eye contact with you.

Was it wrong that his words had your cunt clenching uncontrollably? You fanned your face before you noticed Bucky pointing at the bed. Oh right! You flung yourself on the luxurious mattress, making sure that it rocked against the wall. "Please James, I want you inside me." Your voice was suddenly breathless.

Bucky sat down on the other side of the bed, tugging at the crotch in his pants. They seemed to be tighter than they were before. He used his legs to rock the bed.

"Fuck me, James, fuck me harder." You crawled up to the headboard rattling it enthusiastically. "Whatever you do, don't stop."

Bucky moaned. It was a good thing he was facing away from you, he thought as he pressed his palm over his growing erection.

"That feels so good, B-James. Oh my god, I'm gonna come." You squeezed your legs together, trying to control the throbbing between your legs. Bucky’s name had almost slipped past your lips, and you hoped he hadn't noticed.

"I'm going to make you come so hard."

"JAMES! OH YES!" you screamed.

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

Tag list: @samodivaa @scoonsalicious @literaryavenger @noonespecial90 @browneyedgrli @vicmc624 @cjand10 @capswife @julvrs @ordelixx @sashaisready @sebastians-love @thealloveru2 @belleofthebooks @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @rabbitrabbit12321 @love-isnt-greed @hhiggs @winters1917 @blackhawkfanatic @calwitch @learisa @daybleedsintonightfa11 @eviltinkerbell14 @torntaltos @terry2227 @behindmygreyeyes @lillianacristina

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #my best friend's girl

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sephirthoughts · 9 months ago

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Vincent’s lingering obsession with Lucrecia is excellent drama, but their story is not a doomed romance.

This is an unpopular opinion, but I don’t think Lucrecia deserves nearly as much pity and excusing of her actions as she gets. This is not character-hate post, it's an analysis of a character I think gets short shrift as a Mother-Mary in a bell jar, and deserves better.

Lucrecia is morally grey. Charcoal grey. I love complex, morally grey characters, particularly when they're women, since usually women are relegated to roles that infantilize and objectify them, particularly in video games, which have historically been a very backward, androcentric medium. I strongly dislike brainless victims, subject to the whims of the male characters, without much agency, and Lucrecia was not such a character.

Lucrecia was an adult with agency and brains. She was a grown ass adult. She was a brilliant scientist. She made decisions with her eyes open, and even sacrificed her unborn child to her work. She is a very interesting character. The fact that she didn't idolize motherhood as the end-all of female existence, and that her obsession with her work was stronger than her desire to be a 'good mother' makes her far more interesting than otherwise. The fact that she regretted it later and wanted him back doesn’t magically make her a good person, or change the choices she made. It demonstrates guilt and remorse, which are part of character development. The bottom line is that she committed atrocities in the name of science, then felt guilty about it later, once she realized how devastating the consequences were to her personally. To say she didn’t know what she was doing or Hojo manipulated or controlled her is to infantilize and disrespect her character. She’s not some sacrificial angel who was a victim of circumstances; she was a willing participant in her own downfall.

Lucrecia is a tragic character, but she's not a romantic lead. Except in Vincent's head. After all was said and done, she had one of those too-late changes of heart that make tragedy so emotionally impactful. She had a human reaction to Vincent's death and felt terribly guilty for her role in all of it, as she should. That doesn't mean she loved him, it means she wasn't a monster. She lost her son, and gradually, Hojo's callous inhumanity and her inability to escape the net she wove with her own hands closed in on her. Did she deserve to never hold her baby son and never see him even once? No. But she caused it, with her own actions. That's tragedy. She was miserable, bereft, and riddled with guilt, so she made a last-ditch effort to make something right...by doing more insane science shit that turned Vincent into a monster. Seeing that she'd only made everything worse, she tried to kill herself, but was unable to, and thus ran off to become a crystal statue in a cave (this is a trope that I dislike, but that's the story, so that's what we've got).

Vincent is a bad judge of the circumstances. Vincent persists in seeing her as a lost love, and someone from whom he was unjustly separated by circumstances. The fact that he is so blinded by his feelings for her that he places her on this pedestal and can't blame her for what she did is excellent characterization, and I love it, but it's because he’s wrong. He loved her. She didn’t love him (I think she was in love with his father, but that's just icing on the tragedy cake, at this point). His lingering attachment, not to the real Lucrecia, but to the idealized version of her he has in his mind, is a very sad reality that adds so much delicious pain to his character. In the end, he is unable to blame her, because he loved his image of her (and Hojo is a way easier target for anger, because he's literally the worst), which speaks far more to his personal bias in the situation than to her actual role in it. She’s not moustache-twirlingly evil like Hojo but she’s not Vincent's star cross'd soul mate tragically torn away by cruel fate. Lucrecia was her own person.

In summation. Their story is not a doomed romance, it's a complicated, messy, ugly tangle of thorns, and one of the best written tragedies in a game that literally bleeds tragedy from every orifice. It's got one-sided love, obsession, mad science, betrayal, jealousy, fetal experimentation, murder, corpse reanimation, and a guy who can't die, and is left to deal with the consequences of everyone else's actions by himself forever. No one is innocent and no one comes out unscathed…strike that. Vincent is innocent and Hojo comes out unscathed. But still. Lucrecia is not a holy mother, she's not a brainless victim, and she's not Vincent's lost love. She's a person he loved, and who didn't reciprocate. Most importantly, she's a person. A whole-ass, complex, morally grey, fully developed person, who made terrible choices, then made even worse choices, and in the end, couldn't escape the fate she wove for herself.

And then wound up encased in crystal so she could be a pretty statue forever cause the game devs just couldn't help themselves I guess.

#lucrecia crescent #vincent valentine #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #ff7 vincent #professor hojo #warning: hojo #science!#opinion #i wrote this without pre-planning sorry it's rough and scattered #don't burn me at the stake #my opinion may change

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kazekagevi · 6 months ago

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Bonds Beyond Words: If Eywa Wills It

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

Pairing: Aged-Up!Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: dark themes, mention of suicide attempt, eventual NSFW, aged-up! Neteyam, reader has PTSD, Neteyam dislikes humans (except for you), eventual jealous/possessive Neteyam, future Olo'eyktan! Neteyam, Jake Sully appearance, random Human!OC's, interspecies slow burn, angst, fluff, probably OOC, POV’s all over the place, forgive the inconsistencies.

Summary: You settle into your new home at High Camp. You have a conversation with the Olo'eyktan, Jake Sully.

A/N and Disclaimer: If anyone would like to be notified/tagged in future updates, please comment on this post! Forgive any present tense inconsistencies.

This story contains explicit content and is only appropriate for audiences 18+. MDNI. Please do not repost my work.

Your adrenaline plummets. You rest for hours without interruption.

The room Max has put you up in is nice, but you know it’s too spacious to be permanent. You lie comfortably on a lumpy couch. Sometimes the dim lights flicker, there’s a constant mechanical hum, and the blankets are scratchy, but you nap peacefully for the first time since cryosleep. It’s homely. You need this moment of respite.

Hours later, you wake to the smell of something fragrant cooking. You’re so hungry that you feel nauseous.

As badly as you want to leap from the couch and venture into the kitchen, you lie still. You continue to cherish this time to yourself—you’re unsure when you’ll get such an opportunity again.

You let the events of the past week wash over you like a tidal wave. Tears come and go, just like mental flashes of the faces of the many women and allied wardens long gone. As demoralizing and dehumanizing the experience was, you became a tight-knit family because of it. Your pain is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before—as much as you miss them, you know they’re better off dead than being torn apart and transformed into the RDA’s breeding machines. It leaves a tart feeling in your mouth: it’s upsettingly bittersweet.

Wading through the water of your thoughts and emotions is treacherous. If you swim too long, you know you’ll drown.

You push away the blankets, then fold them neatly. You swipe beneath your tear ducts. After standing by the door for ten minutes, you gain the courage to place your palm over the entryway censor. You make it two steps out before you’re stopped.

You’re startled by a woman’s whistle—it’s reminiscent of a catcall. She leans against a doorframe with a toothpick between her canines. She’s human. She’s stocky and muscular. The woman wears a navy-blue jumpsuit and combat boots. You can tell her hair was once jet black, but it’s starting to grow in gray. “Welcome, new girl,” she says.

“Hi,” you reply sheepishly. You introduce yourself—first name only.

She does the same: “I’m Mia.”

You shake hands—you note that her palms are very calloused. Mia must be involved with hands-on labor.

“Listen, I don’t like to beat around the bush,” says Mia. She leans in closer, like she has a secret to tell you. “You need to shower,” she confesses, this time much quieter. There isn’t a lick of malice in her tone. “Like, immediately.”

You appreciate her honesty, but your cheeks flush. Mia pulls a chuckle from your chest. “I know,” you reply feebly.

And so, Mia takes this moment as an opportunity to give you a proper tour of the human’s facility at High Camp. You’re going to be living there, after all.

Admittedly, there isn’t much to see. Together, you stroll through the science shacks and a few vacant laboratories. You meet a few more scientists. You return to the two flex rooms, like the one you napped in; Mia shows you the barracks and bunk beds, the link units, and the kitchenette. Norm is cooking what he describes to be his very own fusion recipe: a soup that combines both human and Pandoran ingredients. In passing, you apologize to Norm for spitting on him, again—you’ve already apologized four times, but once more couldn’t hurt. He makes it abundantly clear that everything is well between you both.

“I would do the same if they captured me,” Norm confesses. “Much worse, in fact.”

Your tour ends at the showers. Mia leaves briefly, then returns with a towel, a new bar of soap, a plastic hairbrush, a few garments of clothing, and a toothbrush and paste. “This is all we have right now,” Mia explains.

It’s more than enough, you think.

Tears well in your eyes at the sight of these items; although necessary for most humans, to you, these things feel like a luxury.

“There’s hot and cold water knobs. The hot water alone won’t last long. Try to maneuver the knobs to use hot and cold at the same time,” she says with a short demonstration. Warm water spits out of the shower head onto the tiled wall in front of it. You hold out your palm—it’s bliss.

You’re solaced. You thank Mia one last time. She takes her cue to leave and gives you some privacy.

---

Despite the lukewarm water diminishing to icy-cold after only a few minutes, you spend a long time in the shower. You wash your hair. You scrub everything, at least twice. Your pruned fingertips feel foreign angst the metal knob—you haven’t been allowed a long enough shower since your past life on Earth.

The clothes Mia left for you don’t fit quite right. The pants drag on the floor and aren’t secure around the waist; you take a step, and your trousers pool at your knees. You have no choice but to create a makeshift belt with spare twine and an aptly-sized piece of elastic from Mia’s sewing kit. As you weave the components together, you realize her sewing kit doubles as her first-aid box. She must use the same thread to stitch seams on fabric and cuts on skin. You take this opportunity to gently reapply scar ointment and new dressing to the stitched slash beneath your collarbone.

The tanktop she gave you, on the other hand, was made for someone with slightly smaller anatomy. In comparison to the pants, it fits skin-tight snug. Luckily, the undergarments are trouble-free.

When you re-enter the common area, everyone is there. It’s down-to-Earth, you note—the thought makes your lips curl into a smile.

You spend a few moments observing. Most of the scientists look like regular people. They’re plain. Modest, simple. There’s nothing particularly special about any of them, barring their bright smiles. People involved with the RDA don’t smile like that.

It isn’t long before the “plain scientist” exception enters via the airlock entrance.

At first, you think he’s naked. You instinctively cover your eyes with your palms to give the guy some privacy. You faintly hear him yell something out the door through the glass—you can’t discern any of it, so it must be in Na’vi. You peek through your fingertips.

Once the front airlock closes, the human male removes his oxygen mask, hangs it on a hook by the entrance, and presses his hand to the entryway scanner. He strolls in casually, like he owns the place. The young man wears nothing but a loincloth and carries an old leather satchel. Painted, blue streaks mark his body in horizontal stripes.

It clicks for you quickly—he sees himself as one of them. He wears his loyalty to the Na’vi. It’s… admirable.

When he speaks again, he greets Max in English and makes an inside joke with Norm that flies over your head. He chucks his bag onto a nearby stool and smoothes his hands over his ash-blonde dreads.

Inevitably, you’re curious to know more. Your thoughts buzz with questions—instinctively, you’d like to interview him.

“Food’s ready!” Norm calls.

That’ll have to wait.

The room descends to orderly chaos. A scientist you’ve already forgotten the name of is gathering silverware. Another gives everyone a bowl or mug. Metal chairs scrape across the floor as people line up in front of the kitchenette. Mia is adamant about having her mug, which is bright pink with a broken handle. Norm serves stew with a metal ladle. Someone else passes out dethawed bread rolls from the walk-in freezer.

They make jokes in passing. They ask each other questions. Occasionally, they bicker, like when one of the scientists scolds Norm for giving him too big a portion. They’re a family. It’s lovely, you think.

Then Mia calls your name. “Please,” she says, “join us!”

The room quiets down. You briefly make eye contact with the semi-nude young male. He’s around your age—maybe a year or two younger.

Entering the common area takes only a sliver of bravery in comparison to the courage you had to collect in order to survive thus far; it’s still scary, nonetheless. You gulp.

You’re provided a bowl. Norm serves you a heaping portion of soup. Max pours you a glass of water from a large pitcher at the end of the table. You’re offered two dinner rolls—just this once, Mia says. People move their chairs to make room for you. Your heart swells.

“This is-” Mia begins.

Your interruption is far from rude—you introduce yourself instead. First and last name.

---

Dinner runs its course. It began with juvenile questions; the community simply wanted to know more about you as a person. They never banked on someone taking one of the empty bunks. They were all being used as precious storage. What’s your name? Where did you come from?

The spotlight is uncomfortable—blinding, even—but you squint through it. You want to interview these people, but it’s your turn instead.

When some of the scientists begin asking about the RDA, however, the group rears towards an unsettling interrogation. What was it like? they ask. How many were there? Could you spare any details on the escape plan?

With every intrusive question, you intake another mouthful of the fusion stew. It tastes funny, like a bad pun or cringey joke; but you’re too hungry to care.

“Did you ever see the General?” The human male whom you now know as Spider asks. “She was short. Blonde lady, resting bitch-face. General Ardmore?”

Mia snorts. Norm clasps his hands together. “Alright, everyone. I think that’s enough,” he states. "Let's not overwhelm the newcomer."

The scientists look at each other, humbled and slightly ashamed. They give you apologetic stares and quiet redresses.

Max offers to do the dishes. He knows he’ll regret this act of selflessness, but he does it for you. The rest of the scientists leave their empty bowls at the table and retreat to the barracks. Mia pats your shoulder before exiting with the others.

You turn to Norm once everyone’s left. You hold out your bowl. “Can I have some more?”

---

You’re on your third helping of soup and fourth glass of water when there’s a series of raps at the door outside the airlock. For a split second, you’re back in your cell. You’re reminded of your least favorite warden’s early-morning roll calls.

You flinch—your body instinctively jerks. But you don’t realize this until you’re swiftly saving your water glass from falling off the table. You rub your brow with the back of your head; you can’t break two things on your first day.

“Is it him?” Max asks Norm. Max is elbows deep in soap suds and dirty dishes. He starts scrubbing faster.

“Think so,” Norm replies.

Who’s him? You’re left to wonder as you scrape the bottom of your soup bowl and take your final bite; there’s no more stew left.

Norm stands from the table and strides over to the airlock. “Come in!”

You nearly twist your neck trying to turn around before the door opens.

A tall, blue humanoid enters. He has to crouch when breaching the threshold—the door frame is just too short. It’s the first Na’vi you’ve seen since your interaction with the Na’vi in the forest; spare for Grace, the one in a glass tube full of liquid in the common area.

For a moment, you think this Na’vi is the one who saved you. But as they grab a respirator mask and enter once the airlock is closed, your assumption is proved to be false.

The Na’vi nods to Norm. “Good to see ya, Max,” the male Na’vi says, peering into the kitchen. Notably, his English is fluent; but above that, his accent is strangely commonplace among humans. Nothing like the Na’vi from the forest.

Max peers at him over his shoulder. “You too, Jake,” Max calls back.

Your eye twitches. You face forward. Your visage pales.

“Let’s talk about all of this for a moment,” Norm tells Jake Sully. He agrees. Their footsteps get quieter as they walk away from the common room and round the corner. Max dries his hands with a dish towel and follows them.

You hear bits and pieces of their hushed conversation while you chug another glass of water.

“You’re sure?” Jake Sully asks. “Completely positive?”

“There’s no way,” one of the humans responds. “When she thought she’d been recaptured by the RDA, she tried to slit her wrists. A spy wouldn’t do that.”

Someone adds something to that point, but it’s indiscernible.

“You’re right,” replies Jake.

There are footsteps again. You keep your head forward.

Max clears his throat. “You have a visitor,” Norm says.

You push away the empty glass and bowl, then rise from your seat at the table. Your eyes meet pale yellow—the same shade as the other forest Na’vi’s irises.

Jake opens his mouth to speak. “I’m-”

“You’re Jake Sully,” you interrupt. He’s like a myth come to life. During your imprisonment, the girls and wardens talked about him nonstop. He’s a Pandoran celebrity.

Your face turns crimson. It’s one thing to interrupt Mia, but it’s another to interrupt the goddamn Olo'eyktan, the leader of his people. Not just any, but Jake Sully in particular. You’re mortified.

You’re unsure how to greet him properly. Should you kneel? Your body scrambles to do the right thing—you bow, curtsey, and offer your hand to shake all at once.

Jake Sully breathes into the respirator around his neck, veiling a small chuckle. He takes your hand and shakes it gently; due to his size, his engulfs yours.

“Have a seat,” he says. You do.

Jake Sully can’t possibly fit in any of the chairs, so he defaults to sitting on the floor. “I may be asking for a lot,” he says. “But in order to grant you asylum here, I need to know everything.”

He is asking for a lot. You’ve been through nothing but hell. Your face heats up just thinking about the things you’ve witnessed. You don’t want to relive it. Maybe Norm stopped the others earlier because he knew this was coming.

As you look into Jake Sully’s eyes, you know malignity isn’t his intention. It quite literally has nothing to do with you, actually. You know that the Olo'eyktan’s job is to keep his people safe. That’s Jake Sully’s motive. He has to know you’re safe. It’s a two-way street—in order to grant you safety, he must be able to ensure his own.

---

You relay your history on Pandora thus far. It takes over an hour to get through everything. It doesn’t help when Jake asks a dozen questions, and tangents branch off into more tangents. Half-way through the conversation, however, you already know you’re earning his trust. You pinpoint the exact moment, in which Jake admits the reason he joined the RDA and decided to come to Pandora when he lived in a human body.

It’s just the two of you now—Max finished the dishes a while ago and Norm left because he needed rest.

Jake avoids your eyes every time you mention something particularly harrowing about your imprisonment. You’re as precise as you are descriptive. Towards the end of your testimony, he looks at his feet for ten minutes straight, while you reiterate the prison break. He can’t say much in response. He acknowledges that the ordeal must have been horrific.

“Sounds like something out of this old dystopian novel,” Jake mutters. “I think it was called The Handmaid’s Tale.”

Lastly, you tell him about the Na’vi in the forest who saved you.

“Do you know him?” you inquire.

Jake nods. “I do. His name is Neteyam.” He chooses not to elaborate. He omits the fact that Neteyam is his first-born son, next in line for his title.

“Neteyam,” you echo.

Jake nods again when you mimic his pronunciation. It’s not bad, he thinks. Not as bad as Neteyam said, when his son was harping on your horrible accent after bringing you, a human, to High Camp on his ikran. Something Jake never thought he’d see.

“I’d like to thank him,” you say. “He saved my life. How do you say thank you or show gratitude?”

Jake rubs the back of his neck. “I think you should spend a week or two or three here. Take some time to yourself before you consider leaving the science shack and interacting with my people,” he says awkwardly albeit bluntly.

Your brows furrow. His tone of voice suggests there’s no room for protest.

“Spider, Norm, Max, and everyone else will teach you the ways of the Na’vi,” Jake says. “They all speak the language fluently. And if you want to interact with and live amongst my people, then so will you.”

You nod. You consider telling him the very reason the RDA chose you and your talents—that that was exactly what you came to Pandora to do. “So I will,” you reply simply.

“If you see us, then we will see you,” Jake says in Na’vi.

You catch none of it, but nod confidently anyway. He scoffs.

“Good talk,” Jake says lastly. He takes another breath through his respirator, then leaves through the airlock, just as he came.

---

A/N: Feel free to leave any and all comments on this chapter! The exposition is almost done, just hold on a little longer! The exposition continues in the next part, but Neteyam will make an appearance, I pinky promise!

Next part is projected to come out a week from today, Tuesday. I will try to keep a consistent posting schedule.

Thank you all so much for the kind comments and notes thus far! <3

#avatar the way of water #avatar 2009 #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x human reader #self insert #self insert fanfiction #x reader #atwow

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