#at least drag race will cure me

[thebuttsymposium]

I require a LOT of vespene gas rn

[beril66]

So I am reading banger character analysis of various necron characters from people like Ghost and Magistralucis so I wanted to put my two sents in about two things; the absolute HYPOCRISY of Orikan the Diviner and necrons as a whole;

Those who have read I&D no doubt remember the incredible Opera scene. It was probably the most profound part of the entire book; more than their hilarious feud , their team up aganist Orks and subsequent betrayals , their clashes of importance of culture and history and complete disregard of it even if its your own (put a pin on that we'll come back to this) , the heartwrenching flashes of memories or even the final kaiju battles at the end. These two old coots finally FINALLY have to breath methaphorically and just...talk.

Well mostly Orikan talks. Conveniently 'just' remembering it was Trazyn who dragged him into the biofurnaces (even if you think for a MOMENT it's while possible HIGHLY improbable.) So he engages Trazyn in the way it would impact him the most. Through cultural analysis. Both @ghostinthegallery and @magistralucis did analysis on these scenes better than I ever could and I want to a particular parts of Orikan's speech because even as I know practically nothing about 40k or necrons (I&D is my first 40k book) it always made me laugh out loud at the absolute GALL of it.

"Children of Important people, judging by their clothing, though Orikan had no interest in this world or its Byzantine ideas of hierarchy' and

"but we call each other low and bumbling because we are highly civilized"

I legit laughed myself silly here before the gut punch of their interaction continued because... the ridiculous amount of lack of self awareness and hypocrisy just absolutely stunned me.

This is the SAME species who before the biotransference killed each other for basically for sport.

The same species who calls those who are in the lower class as 'it' and has literal philosophical works that brings their SAPIENCE AND SENTIENCE into question (Aristotle would be PROUD)

The same species where a crown prince can get away with shooting 50 commoner soldier in the head as a 'LESSON IN RULING' .

Same species STILL in some cases look down on Imotekh the fucking Stormlord just because he is apparently a 'sandborne'.

Same species who turned their entire lives and culture into a death cult.

The same species who seem to ironically instead of uniting and searching for a cure of their condition just continue to paint galaxy in red with their own and other species blood.

The same race after Old Ones rejected them decided to not just fought aganist them but TRIED TO DESTROY EVERY OTHER PEOPLE THEY COME ACROSS until Old Ones kicked their asses enough.

Tangent here; I mostly agree Old Ones refusing to at least cure them of their cancers is a massive dick move but a counter argument can be made; if you saw a species like necrontyr spread in the galaxy conquering everything they see (and lets be honest here.. if they had vassal species they most likely treat them worse than any Sand born) and the only thing keeping them in check is their sickness , internal political bullshit and equevalant species...would you help them?

And after ALL OF THAT you just...turn each on other and start to REALLY go at it to the point you get the attention of hungry melicious star parasites.

After completely ignoring the increasingly desperate warnings of your almost always correct court astromancer and paint him as insane and a charlatan;

THEN these things, using higher echelon's desperation for eternal life fool you into turning your entire race into soulless terminators because suprise!! During your transformation of course the 'gods' duped you and not only they stuck you into sub-optimal metal coffins , not only (some lore bits implies nobility %100 aware and content) %95 precent of your population is lobotomized , not only you are made to forget %98 of your entire culture even forget where your homeworld is , not only you sacrificed every single class of your young children and will NEVER have future generations EVER, but the cherry on top of this shit cake is your souls are gobbled by said star parasites and also ALL of you, SK included turned into their slaves.

So you and your new masters start a 5 million years worth of war so horrific you give chaos such a power boost , killed about %80 of the galaxy , forced psykic frogs into tearing the first anus in reality and drove the possibly only species keeping the Chaos Gods in check into (possible) extinction. You fucked the afterlife for everyone else until the heat death of the universe in Milky Way.

After that little debacle you turn on your gods , fought them, shatter them (and 'kill' one that in some shape harmed the reality) then after seeing the absolute devestation your gods and kind inflicted go to 60 millions of years of sleep which lets be honest helped more than hurt as mental problems were cropping up BEFORE the end of the war (TDK)

Now you are waking up and did you learn ANYTHING from all of the 5 million worth of life experience?

They learned jackshit thats what happened. Every single sapient necron even the likes of Trazyn, even Zhandrekh are still making the SAME mistakes and inflicts same cruelties they kind always had done.

Trazyn is at the end of the day is a thief and a kidnapper. I&D happened BECAUSE he was so stubborn to steal that gem he wounded the World Spirit and caused the Deciever shard to gain enough power by sending some Aeldari souls his way before Slaanesh can take them. My guy killed an ENTIRE WORLD for a joke.

We all know the reason he is so obsessed with his work is to keep himself sane and have a purpose but just imagine the GOOD he can do. He library rivals the actual BLACK LIBRARY in universe. He tried to help at Cadia and it was amazing to see but at the end of the day even Trazyn didn't seem to grasp that the galaxy is dying in front of him and he can CHANGE that. Or unwilling. This is the worst attributes of the necrons; not caring when they actually really SHOULD.

Zhandrekh is as much as the setting allows is a good man. He could be considered kind even in Flesh Times. He is an honourable man. He is also a terrifyingly competent warlord serving Imotekh whose damage seems to be his insaitable desire to conquer and CONTROL (as much as we know GW for what? 8 years didn't characterized him other than "really clever , great general , obsession with proving his worth and control by dueling with strong opponents"). I think people forget about that about him. He didn't lost a SINGLE campaign aganist Imperium. My senile old sweet man is TERRIFYING.Not much more to say about him honestly he is a good dude in a horrific setting with dementia and married to his bodyguard.

Now lets come to Orikan. Orikan the Diviner is %100 has the right to be a resentful bastard to his own people. He tried so hard to stop the catasthrophy of biotransference. Not only he didn't succeed but they THROW HIM AGANIST HIS WILL into the fires.

What I really like about him however is while he is a venomous , back stabbing little bastard who takes a little too much pleasure of his people' suffering he has these...flashes that shows there is SOMETHING kinder underneath deep deep DEEP down. He didn't want to destroy Serenade. Interestinf thing about him is he only refers to humans as an "it" ONCE. And thats a corpse something even we do. These are very small but it shows Orikan ISN'T just a complete and utter douchbag XD

That being said Orikan abject denial of basically anything positive about anything or anyone necron or not shows how small minded he can be. His destruction of necrontyr artifacts, his dismissal of human anything without giving it a try (like apperantly SK prepared shadow puppet theater for palace kids? How is that a drivel Orikan???) Etc. He simultaneously despises everything necrontyr/necron that ISN'T his or Vishani's provess in their fields yet claims total superiority in everything Necrons do as he insults them. He is the single most hypocritical character bar chaos SM.

Don't get me wrong its a great character work and shows us how flimsy necron identity even is. Because minus general archetypes of their dynasties they have...none. Soulless God Killers isn't an identity. It's the curse of their entire species however metal (pun intended) it is to turn your treacherous gods into cattle. At the end of the day however advanced tech they possess or claims to have high manners (if they are sentient enough) or 'elegance' they are as barren as a civilization can get in all account bar tech.

And the fact that they can call themselves 'Civilized' making me giggle for the sheer absurdity of it BECAUSE they equate technological advancement as 'Cultured amd civilized'.

Necrons while I LOVE THEM and want them to have a happy ending (I want that for all species honetly everyone is horrible in 40k its okay :D) are the indisputed the WORST people in this shithole of a galaxy.

Imperium in many ways are lightyears ahead of us technologically would we call them civilized? Aeldari despite all their tech and arts were creating blood orgies on bodies of sacrificed children and I didn't met many people who would consider even the today's Crafworld Aeldari civilized.

Necrons are the same as these two. There is beside technology and cultural ticks no difference between them. Orikan calls the class system of Serenade 'Byzantine ideas' while he himself is subjected to the EXACT SAME THING in Mendragora court.

So if we rib on the Imperium and Aeldar...why shouldn't we on necrons?

All the races of the Milky Way are sides of a multi-faced coin (except Tyranids obviously). Bloodthirsty , cruel savages with certain exceptions in characters because they are marginally less shitty than the rest (Trazyn , Zhandrekh , Oltyx , Yenekh , Eldrad , Vulcan , Farsight , Shadowsun , Jaghatai Khan etc.) Who wants the same thing.

Necrons are just the most delusional of them all and its so tragic it loops back around to being funny. All races have fell from grace in Warhammer. The Necrontyr might be the only race started with very little redeeming qualities though. And the have not changed a SINGLE BIT in 65 fucking MILLION YEARS besides Oltyx (who because the Flayer King. A literal flesh tearing and wearing monster) . A single character. This is beyond horrific when you think about it.

Ironically in 40k DAOT humans might have been the most civilized race ever existed. They had peace treaties with ORKS. Interex have not eradicated Mega-arachnids just banished them to a world where they can live and let live. Diasporex just wanted to be left alone. Humanity even Aledari used to have compassion. Necrontyr and necron minus few never had that as a SOCIETY. Not to their own NOT to others. (I am not humans fuck yeah! In the slightest but...history speaks for itself)

And with their souls gone it seems something needs to shake them up so badly to start actual REFLECTION of eho they have been/who they are. Because with the way the are going...their minds will give long before their bodies do.

Sooo...this is my 'analysis' of the hypocrisy of Orikan and Necrons as a whole considering them so above all despite being in the same mudpit wirh other races. Would love to hear your opinions do you agree? Disagree?

[sugawara-levi]

We’ve been friends pt. 4

❀ Chifuyu Matsuno x reader

❀ friends (to lovers?), same friend group, fluff

❀ cw: alcohol, partying

(see notes on the bottom about possible taglist)

<- pt.3 navi. pt.5 (coming) ->

Stay here

Hearing your thoughts didnt really help though. It only served to make you even more aware of how clouded they were.

In between thoughts of snacks and something more filling than alcohol you found yourself lingering on the feeling of Chifuyu’s leg pressed against yours earlier. The thought of his arm brushing against yours when he reached forward to play his cards gives you goosebumps.

“Ugh”. Your head hitting the table gives momentary relief. At least one less thing to worry about: keeping your head upright.

“Hey, you thought you could make snacks and get to keep them for yourself?”, Baji barged into your thoughts.

“Urk”, is all you can muster, forhead still resting in the hard wood.

“Damn, that bad huh?” You could understand that he was talking about drunkenness, but for half a second you had thought he was talking about something else. That he had somehow seen through you and meant to talk about his other best friend. The small, blond one.

Your head shoot up a bit too quickly before you came to the realisation that he couldn’t possibly know what was going through your head. Even you didn’t know what was going on in there.

“Yeah...”

Grabbing for your arms he drags you up from your seat and lifts you into his arms.

“Okay sleepy pants, let’s gooo, only one cure!”

“noooo! leave me beee”, at least you got the popcorn with you before you’re reunited with your dancing friends.

He ended up being right, it was a good cure. And a good distraction from your mind. Even though the source of your confusion was right there with you the music didn’t leave room for overthinking. And with your friends there it was easy to act as normal around him. Even though your thoughts raced every time you locked eyes, and you found yourself avoiding his gaze, not wanting to know it’s meaning.

This was okay. You could avoid this, easy.

An hour slipped away into nothing and suddenly you were all in a hurry to leave. You had learned from previous years not to trust yourselves with fireworks, so you instead left it to others and opted for the view from a nearby hilltop. Of corse this meant an approximately 10 minute hike that quickly turned into half an hour on nights like this. Which is why you were all clambering into the hallway at ten to half 12. The fight for space and all of you trying to find your own clothing while also managing to get dressed in the over crowded room was a sobering experience. But that might've been good to be fair.

“Ow! My foot!”

“Hey that's my jacket you-”

“Come ooon we have to goooo I don’t wanna miss it”

“Just, stop pestering!”

“And stop pushing!”

Several ow’s later you all tumble out the door on top of each other. Tripping on the doorway you fall face first toward the porch, luckily someone else and their puffer jacket is in front of you and you bring them down with you. Soon follows the rest of the group as they were pushed out the door from those still inside.

“Hey, who’s elbow is that in my chin?” You mumble into the jacket your face is now plastered against.

“I think it’s mine,” comes a pained voice from somewhere under you. It’s the puffer jacket, Chifuyu. He had somehow managed to twist his body before hitting the ground and had therefore landed on his back.

“Can you, remove your arm from under me? Uh, I think I landed on it.”

Without noticing you had grabbed for him for support while falling. While it didn't give much support it did give a rather awkward situation and a rather obvious pain in your right arm now that you thought about it.

“Yeah just let me.” You lift yourself up from him a bit so that he can lift his shoulder for you to move your arm. He whines as he rolls away from under you and lays on his side, massaging his shoulder.

“You good?” you offer, as you sit up cradling your own arm.

“ Yea…” he rolls over and gets up in a seated position opposite you. “How’s your arm?”

“Uuuh it’s, uh, yeah it hurts quite a bit actually.” You look down, avoiding his gaze again. “I think your shoulder landed on my fist or something, my knuckles hurt.”

“Sounds about right, think I got a fist-shaped bruise on it.” Your eyes flick towards him and catch him grimacing, still holding his shoulder “You got a good fist at least, damn, could knock out a horse probably. Mmfh.”

When he opens his eyes in your direction he’s met with yours, and you look at each other for a minute. Mixed with your existing confusion about him this is just too much. It's absurd. Your onsetting smile is met with a question in his gaze, that quickly turn into a crooked smile and suddenly you're both battling for air between laughter and tears of join mixed with pain.

“Stop laughing, now both my shoulder and my stomach hurts!”

“I knoww! I can’t stop, my arm hurts too much too!”

“Hey what’s going on out here? Did you not get up yet?” Emma suddenly towers above you.

“Ow, no” you both laugh back at her.

“Well you look fine, we’re all ready to leave so let’s goo!” You’re wiped off the ground from countless arms and you’re all ready to go again.

“That lost us a good 10 mins probably, everyone ready to leave?” Draken takes control of the situation as Mikey starts walking first.

“You okay, y/n?” It’s Baji, giving his certified bestie-services to yours truly. You give him a short nod and a “yeah” while the scrunch of your nose reveals that you’ll probably hurt for a couple of days still.

“What about me,” Chifuyu states more than asks as he’s also being pulled up from the ground by the same lanky gentleman. “you don’t care about me anymore?”

“You can take it.” Baji shoots back and nudges the other’s unharmed shoulder.

“Hey, ouch, wounded soldier here!” Chifuyu scoffs back with humour.

“Y/n, this is your doing, help me.”

“Like you need it”, but still, you get over to his side and let’s him drape his arm around your neck. “Just don’t hurt my arm more than you already did.”

“Touché.”

©sugawara-levi: do not copy or republish as your own

a/n: I have a slight fear that I somewhere along the way left how chifuyu really is and instead just made my own version… there will be less alcohol from now on I priomiiiise

a/n 2: I’ll make a taglist if there’s interest! message me or give an ask or comment on the post or whatev you feel like if you’re interested 🫶

[laundrybiscuits]

(Hanahaki AU tag : Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3)

(CONTENT NOTE: equivalent of conversion therapy discussed at the end of this one. just stop reading after the ——— if that's going to be bad for you.)

Eddie twists away from the yellow light of the van, trying to get his body under control. “Sorry,” he wheezes. “Not a singer. Shouldn’tve smoked before trying to belt metal shit.” He hunches over and picks the last jaundiced petals from his mouth, crushing them in his fist before dropping them as casually as he can into a clump of grass. 

His mouth is clean when he turns back around. He climbs back into the van and slumps against the wall, strumming something mindless, more to feel the comfortingly solid corners of his guitar tucked up close to his body than anything else. 

“If you don’t warm up first, with those kinds of vocals, it’ll fuck up your throat,” he says. 

“Never knew that.” Steve hands Eddie a water bottle. “Sounds dangerous.”

Eddie takes a sip, willing the water to drown out whatever’s growing in his guts. He pictures it like a punishing rain. “I live on the edge,” he says.

“Uh-huh,” says Steve. “Drink your water, Evel Knievel.”

Eddie takes another gulp, knowing it won’t do a damn thing. He sits back and starts picking out some chords that resolve into a Springsteen song. It sounds sweeter on a solo acoustic like this and he rolls with it, fingerpicking the melody and humming along, giving it a folky strum to fill it out. 

Steve sings along with the chorus, going da da da when he doesn’t know the words. His voice isn’t too bad; a little unpracticed, but smooth and warm. It feels right for the small space they’re inhabiting, the dim warm van on one side and the rolling shadows of Illinois prairie on the other.

“You’re pretty good at that,” says Steve when the song’s done.

“Don’t sound so shocked, Harrington.” Eddie gets up to tuck the guitar back into its bag. “We should probably turn in. Get an early start tomorrow.”

He’s been pretty carefully not thinking about sleeping arrangements. He doesn’t think Steve’s likely to pitch a fit over sharing a mattress with another guy, but at least he’s got the moral high ground here as the person who didn’t initiate this little buddy-comedy storyline. 

Steve puts up some token bitching, but shucks his jeans and gets under the blanket readily enough.

“Figured you would’ve brought along some silk pyjamas or something,” says Eddie, when the silence makes him feel too fidgety.

“I didn’t have a lot of time to pack, okay?” Steve huffs, throwing an arm over his eyes. “When Henderson told me you’d canceled all your stupid wizard games, I drove over right away. I guess you didn’t see me ‘cause you were just starting to load up the van. Figured I had about a half-hour before you disappeared, so I just raced home and grabbed whatever I could in five minutes.”

“Right,” says Eddie. “And then you decided to launch an ambush.”

“Yeah, yeah, how else was I gonna get you to talk to me?” 

“Well, you’ve got me now, Steve. I’m an open book, what d’you want to know?”

“Why are we on this roadtrip, Eddie?”

I’m here to get away from you, thinks Eddie. You’re here because…I don’t know why you’re here. 

“Freedom,” he says instead. “Adventure. The American Dream.”

———

There are places, Eddie knows, that specialize in cutting out the bloom for very specific cases. Except it’s not really the bloom they’re trying to cut out. 

There are places, Eddie knows, that will drag you away and put you in a room and tell you that the person you loved will never love you back. They’ll do it again and again, until you believe it, and if you start coughing up flowers, they know they’ve won. They’ll cut it out of you and send you home and tell you that you’re cured. They do it to people, to kids, who fall in the kind of love that needs curing. 

They did it to Wayne. 

Wayne doesn’t like to talk about it, but it’s why Eddie lives with him now: his uncle, the black sheep in a family of jailbirds and junkies. The only one so unforgivable that his parents, Eddie’s grandparents, paid good money to get him sent to a place in Ohio back in ‘46. 

As far as Eddie’s aware, Wayne’s never relapsed. Even had a girl for a while, before Eddie came to live with him. Eddie’s old man wasn’t gonna shell out the cash to send him to any kind of doctors who’d get him fixed, and anyway he’d been too young to have a chance at blooming when they caught him messing with Ollie Peterson from down the way. They don’t talk about it, him and Wayne, but they both know why it’s been the two of them in a trailer in the middle of nowhere, Indiana.

So Eddie thinks Wayne’ll get it, afterwards. Wayne’s never tried to change a single thing about Eddie, just made space for him to be the way he is. Wayne’ll respect that this is how it has to be.

He’ll send a postcard once they’re a few states away. There's still time.

[cloudycleric]

Hi :D

Your YouTube channel is so positive and amazing!! Hope you’re doing well! :)

But anyway, if I may ask, have you ever watched Young Royals? If you haven’t I think you might like it :) But idk who am I to say- just had a lot of fun binging it a while back.

ALSO if I can ask, what are some songs that remind you of byler? A few that remind me of byler are Wouldn’t it be Nice by The Beach Boys, Heart to Heart by Mac DeMarco and Sunsetz by Cigarettes After Sex.

Totally okay if you don’t want to answer these though :)

young royals is on my list of shows to watch!! ill get to it eventually i promise but my tv habits right now consist of stranger things, survivor, & all of rupaul's drag race

SONGS lordy i have SO MANY songs i have literally at least 15 playlists im not kidding. sorted by genre. ribs by lorde, boys dont cry by the cure, best friend by rex orange county, aeroplane by greer, harvey by her's, pool house by the backseat lovers, dear prudence but the siouxsie cover, literally every song to ever exist ever

[snailsandpuppy-dogtails]

Fifteen Minutes

Smut fic Sunday Robinwest Follow up to Under Pressure(not smut) smut WC:5,486 Ao3

Don is comatose, Judy rushes to get him to the hospital, but on the way Don awakes up only for Judy to realize he's been infected by a space microorganism that first cures him, but will then kill him if they don’t have sex. (shout out to @bacchicly ,you amazing lady, for helping me figure out where part 2 was going 😅)

Hoisting Don in to the chariot she’s reminded of Evan, though it’s not the same. Then, she had all the room, workspace, and equipment of a medic chariot, and the assistance of a driver so she could focus her undivided attention on him, not that it had helped… but now, she was alone and equipped only with a cramped, standard issue Jupiter chariot and the supplies in her medkit. She tried to think of the positive: at least she had them, if one of the crew back at the worksite hadn’t let her take the vehicle to track down Don while the two medic chariots transported the injured crew members to the hospital, she wouldn’t have gotten to him in time…not that it had helped.

She had let herself get distracted, wrapped up in her emotions, in his. This is exactly why doctors aren’t allowed to work on family, they’re too close. She wasn’t acting impartial, she wasn’t focused. If only she had been.

If only he hadn’t left. If he had just stayed put he’d be in a hospital right now. Instead, more minor trauma had been inflicted upon his body, she’d had to drag him out of the house, down the steps, and over gravel. She’d tried to dead man lift and sling him over her shoulders, but it hadn’t worked, Don too heavy, to big, Judy too petite, physics working against them, she’d toppled and fallen. From the ground she pushed, rolling his body off of hers and crawled away huffing against the side of the open chariot, sticky with sweat.

Lifting hadn’t worked, she’d have to continue dragging him.

Standing up Judy positioned Don so that he was sitting up, back leaning against the door step. She climbed in behind him, got down on her knees, and with her arms under his armpits, lacing her hands across his chest and interlocking her fingers, she lifted, pulling and pulling, grunting and straining, dragging him against the vehicle. With all the time it took to get him here, there was no way she could waist more time trying to get him up on the chairs to buckle him in. Thinking quickly, she darted back to the house grabbing the pillows off the couch and ran back out stuffing them between Don’s body and the backs of the front seat, making sure his head was as immobilized as much as possible, hoping the wedge would be enough to keep him in a mostly stable position until she got him to the hospital.

She punched in the coordinates, Judy heading out before the chariot had a second to plot a rout with terrain mapping. If Don could see her now, he’d be impressed. Or scared. She was “flooring it” pressing the chariot to go as fast as it could before warning sensors turned on; she decided if they did, she might even press her luck with them just a bit in the spirit of the man unconscious in the back.

Speeding through large swath of undeveloped land it was like she was back on the path to collect oil again; though this land was green and flush with life she was racing through the landscape with a ghost. Here she was alone, just Don to keep her company, but he couldn’t do that now, one more person in danger. Another life lost because she was too slow.

Not this time.

She wouldn’t let it happen this time.

Silently she’s thankful the chariots do so much on automation; every chance she gets she allows her attention to be drawn to him, head turning, breath held tight. She’d affixed the tablet monitoring his status to the dash panel so she wouldn’t have to rely on warning sounds, but she still turns, helpless to do anything but drive, helpless to make him better, to bring him back. When her eyes aren’t drifting over the eerily serine looking prickly mechanic, they’re flickering from road to tablet. Constantly shifting, road- tablet- Don- tablet- road- tablet- Don. As if anything would change. As if she wouldn’t hear the shrill alarm go off before she had a chance to read it.

It is at the very moment her eyes are shifting, body turning to the back, that the device goes off. But not for the reason she fears. Not for the reason she expects. No, Judy whips around and flashing in front of her is not a panel issuing an unfavorable update to his precarious head injury, that would have been a welcome message to what she sees instead.

Priority Infection Detected: Specimen 3927. Solution: Neutralize Saliva. Cure: Untested.

No.

It couldn’t be.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

She couldn’t. She couldn’t she couldn’t she could not. She didn’t have any experience! Not any real, practical, experience…Sure, as 20 year old who wasn’t entirely sheltered, and as a medical student she knew, like literally- what to do…but now? NOW? Her fists clenched tight, white bone straining under taught brown skin, and then, released, hands flying and slamming back down, the aggravated growl ringing out “FUCK!”

And like some sick practical joke, some poor blue collar comedy, she heard him groan and stir from the back seat.

It was something they’d been researching in the lab as a potential wonder cure. The saliva of this alien microorganism seemed to infect the human body and prompt miraculous recoveries for colonists from whatever injury or sickness they were afflicted by. The down side though, was that the infection would irreversibly stop their heart 15 minutes after apparently stabilizing them.

The only known cure for that side effect so far was something the medical field really couldn’t lean on, couldn’t…with good standing prescribe, and weren’t entirely endorsing. One patient and his wife had been so over come with emotion at the sudden and amazing rehabilitation, they…exuberantly expressed their joy and gratitude at being reunited…

Sex. Sex was the only cure.

The running theory was that there was something about the combination of vaginal secretions, ejaculant, temperature spike, and fluid expression that made the body uninhabitable for the infection. Killed it. But those things really couldn’t ethically be replicated in a hospital by a medical team.

It was laughable. All of ten minutes ago they had each finally worked up the courage to be open and honest and exposed in their feelings for one another…and now she was going to have sex with him. Before they’d ever even gotten to go on a proper date.

An unusually slow drawl came drifting from the back, “Uh...Hey, Jude, whose chariot am I in…and how did I get here?”.

Before she could answer, the monitor chimed again, this time Don was popping up, leaning over the center console, head crammed between the two front seats.

“Hey! Lay-”

“Cranial pressure reduced? Negative trace of intracranial hematoma? Doc, I understand some of those words and prefixes, but do you mind maybe putting it in regular people terms?”

And then the screen flashed back to the other one. The warning.

“Specimen? Saliva?! Judy Robinson was I licked by something?! …Doc, you’re not answering, it’s kind of making me nervous…”

Judy slowed the chariot to a stop, pulling far off the road, they didn’t have time to drive somewhere absolutely secluded, but at least they were in a colony transition spot, undeveloped land.

Judy turned to face him, her hand bracing flat against the back side of the front passenger seat, eyes meeting his square. Her mouth fell open, but nothing came out. It was absurd. This was Don, they were adults, she was a medical professional, and she cared for him… knew he cared for her, and yet, she was floundering to bring herself to state plainly what exactly needed to be done.

The look she wore she knew wasn’t very professional or reassuring, she could see it reflected back in his eyes, it was full of concern, nerves, and worry. Judy bit her lower lip considering how to tell him. Direct. Clinical. She needed to get to the point so he wouldn’t die.

“Don, you were hit in the head with a large piece of shrapnel-”

“I know, Doc, I was there…”

“Just. Shh. Let me say everything first.”

“You, I believe, sustained an intracranial hematoma- bleeding in your skull, it created a lot of pressure, you then went unconscious. I dragged you to the chariot that I borrowed from Mike so I could get you to the hospital as fast as possible-”

“Then why are we stopped, Jude-”

“JUST- SHH! WE DON’T HAVE TIME! YES you were licked by some thing. Something that is very bad. First, it cures you, but then, it kills you.” Tears welled in her eyes, the prospect of losing Don now, after all they’d been through, after how close they’d grown, after what they’d finally been brave enough to voice to each other and the small hope of continuing that. He was her family. She’d told him that, even before today, they had become the Robinson-West family, and she was going to do what needed to be done for family.

Don’s face fell, “But it says cure untested, not unknown. Doc. There’s a cure right. Jude?”

“There is something. There’s one reported, untested case of recovery. The patient had sex. That’s what we need to do within the next ten 10 minutes, or you’ll die.”

Suddenly the very stressed and panicked look he’d been wearing vanished. “HAAAA, Haaa.” Don’s face broke, head wiping from left to right, “This is a joke, right? You’re messing with me? Payback for scaring the shit out of you. You almost got me! Look, I’m sorry, I wo-”

Judy clenched her fists lest she grab for him, shrilly yelling, “DON, THIS IS NOT A JOKE! I understand how it looks, but we do not have time for this!”

He jerked back, realization setting in, fully comprehending the situation he was finding himself in, but still unwilling to believe, “You’re telling me we need to…Have you ever even…?” Don swallowed the dry lump forming in his throat that had nothing to do with the imminence of his own mortality and everything to do with feeling like an absolute creep in the moment. Sure, Judy was older now, but it was still Judy and this was not how he had wanted to start off their relationship. Hell, they hadn’t even talked about…Anything.

Judy glared, determination and anger flaring up disguising her embarrassment, “No. I haven’t. So you better be good, West.”

With that uniquely Robinson will of steel she unbuckled her harness and switched on the window shades, but nerves flipped low in her stomach. Taking a quick breath in through her nose, she pressed them down, expelling what wouldn’t be helpful, and turned, climbing between the front seats to join him in the cramped and hard space of the back floor. She spotted the pillows she’d grabbed for securing his head and perversely considered the serendipitous role as dual comfort. It was a tight fit, hard, and dark, and uncomfortable; and she tried not to go to that place, the one that said the last time she was taking care of someone in one of these that someone ended up dying in her hands. Tried not to think about how that was exactly what was on the line now.

He wished he was a bigger man, a better man. A better man unafraid of dying wouldn’t put someone he cared about in this position. Try to find a different solution…But he was scared. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live and maybe take her out some where, cook for her, sit with her at family dinners and not have everyone wondering, because it would be obvious, everyone would know. He didn’t want her as a secret and he couldn’t have her from a distance, he wanted one thing that hadn’t been sullied or rushed. One thing to go right, that was honest and good. “Princess, maybe we should talk abou-“

“We do not have time to talk!” Judy snatched his hand in hers, roughly bringing it up to her breast and then alighted, kissing him fiercely. And while kissing Judy was very nice, and he had enjoyed it quite a bit not too long ago, now it was different. Now he could feel the race of her heart in his palm and the acceleration of her lips on his. Where before it was like a great sigh and relief felt and promises being made, now it was bitter, stress and urgency, the kind of thing that striped enjoyment.

It was a vicious cycle of despair, performance anxiety, and confirmation, one causing the other, intensifying the next, and that wasn’t even him considering how this, even though it wasn’t, felt like taking advantage. He couldn’t get it up if he wasn’t enjoying himself and he couldn’t enjoy himself thinking about the clock ticking down to his death. But there was also the part where he felt exploitive…greedy. Greed had never been an issue before, he had never batted an eye at putting himself first, but with them, with Judy…. He wouldn’t ever do anything like that, he hoped she knew. The self inflicted guilt trip was pointless though, because this wasn’t working. Even with her soft body in his hands, even with her warm lips on his, her enthusiasm, his blood ran cold refusing to flow down.

Defeated, Don groaned and pulled back, “Princess, I don’t think this is gonna work. Don’t get me wrong, you are very beautiful, and very sexy, and I would REALLY like for this to work-" he laughed that tense nervous laugh he gets and it killed her a bit knowing even now they couldn’t find peace. “but the whole death thing is kind of putting a lot of pressure on the moment, not to mention…”

But she felt the mounting pressure just the same and wouldn’t let this be the end. Judy’s sharp tongue pierced his ramblings “And here I thought the options of fuck or die would be an easy choice for Don West.” She immediately regretted it, throwing her hands up, then cupping them around his shoulders, looking him in the eyes, “I’m sorry, that was dark and unfair. I’m sorry.” She thought for a moment, sitting back on her heels, then commanded simply, “Undo your pants.”

“Judy, honestly, I’m softer than ice cream in July.”

She brushed aside his defeated attitude, ignoring his words and reached for his button and fly herself. “Just trust me.” Sliding her hand past the band of his briefs, she pulled out his indeed very limp dick, looking up at him with a half smirk, she tried to inject some much needed levity to the situation, “I can see now why the sale was $2.99”

“You know what-“ Don’s rebuttal was cut off however, by the sight of Judy first licking her lips, then, bending over, licking his shaft. She scooched back as much as she could, feet and calves pressing into the seats, then up her tongue trailed from base to tip, large eyes never leaving his.

Shock seemed to pull him, if only momentarily, out of his own head. Judy felt him grow slightly stiff in her grasp, and felt an irritating wiggle of pride inside. With a small smile, she went on, plan seeming to have the desired effect. She licked him again, but this time when she reached the tip, she pursed her lips, pushing them down, slowly parting, slowly enveloping the head in her warm, wet mouth. As she did, she made a little gratified moan, moving her head in an S pattern. Don’s back pressed firmly into the curve of the door, head rolling back, “I am a bad, bad man…” Judy bobbed up and down, sucking hard, cheeks going hollow, and squeezed the base. Her tongue formed a slick, soft curve hugging the bottom of his shaft and she rubbed it against him as she moved. Don’s hands moved to her head trying to clutch her hair, but she was wearing it in that cute long banded pony tail, he really didn’t want to mess it up, so he brushed his hands down her head, then gathered the ponytail in his hands, something to hold on to. “God, princess, yes. Doc, Jude-" he was petting and flexing, his breath becoming heavy above her, his cock swelling and hardening between her cheeks. Judy gave one last long, firm suck, pulling off the tip with a wet “pop” and pumped her hand a few more times.

Don’s cock, now fully erect and slick stood to attention with zero aid. His cheeks were flush, and his eyes were glazed, lids drooping, he sat up pulling her to meet him, pulling her into another kiss. Judy leaned into it, but her hands stayed focused, now undoing her own button and zipper, shoving them down her thighs, and trying her best to shimmy one knee and then the other. It didn’t work, she broke the kiss, hovering to disrobe and discard the items of clothing. Don watched as Judy stripped in front of him, curving brown legs, smooth flat stomach, she didn’t need to take off her shirt, but she did anyway, giving him the heavenly view of her pert round breasts supported by a very practical basic demi bra. And then his eyes went back up to hers and his heart nearly broke.

She was terrified. She’d never admit it, but he knew it. Could see it. Even if she loved him, even if he loved her, the only reason they were doing this was because he was a dead man if they didn’t. Don took her hand, pulling her to lay down in the cramped space next to him, pillows supporting their shoulders, pulling her into a hug. He nuzzled her neck and kissed it, arms wrapped around her waist, “Judy Robinson, I love you. And after this, we absolutely do not need to do it again until you’re ready…if you don’t want to do this, if it’s too much…” He was going to do it, going to tell her, give her an out. Make that sacrifice.

“What? Let you die?! Don shut up, I can do this.” But the proclamation was laced with tears. Tears that rolled down her cheeks and soaked her words, blurring the meaning of them. She wasn’t crying because she was scared of doing something new, she was crying at the thought of losing Don. Losing someone she loved. As much as she didn’t want to think about it, as much as she would have liked to simply enjoy this for what it was, there was the reality of it hanging over them.

Tears. Great. She was crying. He could feel himself growing softer. Tears were only ever a turn-on in very specific circumstances, coercion under the threat of imminent death was not one of them. He cupped her jaw, holding her until his lips found hers, “Jude, don’t cry. It’s gonna be fine, it’s gonna be fine.” he kissed her again and again, kissing her deeper, with all that he had, with everything he could muster to make them both forget, until Judy grew breathless, panting into their melded lips. Don’s hand slid in large, broad, comforting strokes down her back, coaxing her to relax, hand traveling to hip, and then to thigh, squeezing gently. He felt her breath falter as his fingers brushed up the seam of them, murmuring the joking assurance against her mouth, “You’re in good hands, one of us knows what we’re doing.”

Judy’s heart thudded, thoughts in a tug-o-war between how much time they’d used up already, about how much they had left, and what was happening, her first time literally required to save a life. Keeping her eyes closed, she tried to focus on his touch, the rough pads of his fingers parting her, sliding up and down, back and forth, a fat middle finger teasing and circling at her entrance, then gliding back up. Don’s lips moved back to her neck, lightly nipping and licking, tongue forming a point to match what his fingers were doing down below, her abs constricted and she breathed out a shuddered breath when his fingers spread around her clit framing it and rubbing around it. Instinctually, she brought her leg to drape on his, pulling herself closer, he felt her flesh pulse and throb against his fingers, moving the two back down, he slowly inserted the tip of one large middle finger, then the index, pushing all the way, pulling back out, dragging them against the top as he exited her, pushing back in, and pulling out, fingers crooking and spreading, Judy’s breath coming in deep and long draws, hips rocking, his fingers curled making short, firm strokes inside her, thumb rubbing at her clit, Judy grasped his shoulders and panted his name, pleading, “Don-” and he was sure it was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever heard, her feet dragged and kicked in the narrow space, hitting seat bottom and his leg, Don kissed her forehead, inserting a third finger, stretching her, pumping curling fueling her. Judy, so slick already, Judy, calling his name, Judy, rubbing against him, gasping at his actions. His strokes came faster, thumb working in tight sloppy circles, firm, harsh, harsh, firm, he pushed and his fingers curled and then Judy was clawing at his shoulders and her thigh was pressing into his and her walls were clenching and fluttering around his fingers, hips thrusting forward and body arching back as she startled, coming.

Her eyes slammed shut, whole body tensing, his hands warm and large on her, his lips strong and insistent and comforting. Her breath holding tight as she pulsed at his command.

Don pulled his hand out, rubbing the slick damp all over her clit with the fingers he’d had inside her, then rapidly did away with his own pants and hooked her leg back around his. Taking her cheek back in his hand, eyes locking on hers, even now, he found he’d stop if she asked, if she needed him to. A thumb brushed her kiss swollen lip, and then Don quietly dared between them, “ready?” With her eyes locked on his, she merely nodded pulling him close, kissing him. Ready or not, it’s what needed to be done, and really, there were worse things that could be done.

Lining up, he pushed into the heat of her, Judy cried out and he almost felt criminal. This was something she’d come to on her own, her cared about her…really cared. He paused, giving her time to adjust, relax. Judy so tight, all around him, he blew out a breath calming himself, not wanting to blow his load, then proceeded to kiss and suck at her neck, a hand working between them to play with her vulva, fingers once again running up and down on either side, running up and down the edges of his cock, and mumbled praise and compliments that reverberated against her skin, “You’re so good, you’re doing so good. Princess, you’re prefect, just relax, listen to my voice,” his lips skipped across the front of he throat and down her chest, “focus on the feeling, that’s right, that’s my good girl.” Don sliding the straps of her bra down, folding the cups of her bra under, licking and sucking at her nipples, his lips making warm, damp Os around them, his fingers rubbing and massaging, and gradually she relaxed, getting wetter, less tense, he started to slip further in, slow and measured, then out, his hips rocking and pulling.

Getting into it, forgetting herself, endorphins ramping up and body adjusting, she added her own small movements. She swiveled, dragging up and down, thumbs brushing against his chest, fingers curling around his sides, pulling off his shirt.

“Needed me to match you?�� She hooked her leg higher, tighter, and Don pulled back up, kissing her deeper.

“Matching couples costumes” she quipped back. His hand between them moved to her thigh, brushing up, gripping her ass, giving a loving squeeze before sweeping back down to hold her leg in place as he increased the speed of his thrust.

“I didn’t realize we were at that point yet” The conversation was lighthearted, completely incongruent to the action, to the situation, and yet it felt completely familiar, Don barbing her, Judy playing back.

“We’re moving at warp speed here, West, try to keep up.” Blunt nails pulling through dark waves, digging into scalp, she reeled him back in, kissing him with force, nose smashed to face, breath panting against him, holding him to her, not willing to let go, her hips now snapping with his when suddenly Don rolled them, her back flat to the floor, head meeting pillow, his pelvis weighty and flush to hers, the meat of his groin rubbing heavy on her clit with every thrust, her leg falling open and Don readjusting it, holding it and keeping it wrapped to him, hitting further, deeper, different. Her hips matched in shallow thrusts as they fell together finding their rhythm, A loud moan passed her lips, shoulders pulling up off the pillow and god damn, did he feel so good.

Despite the pull and tug of every bit of him demanding double, faster, harder, deeper, he stayed mindful of Judy, he didn’t want her to hurt, was determined to make this as pleasurable an experience as possible. Causing pain was no way to show you cared, and more than anything he desperately needed her to know he cared. His fingers still on her thigh flexed, loosening his grip, and god the effort it was taking, he felt the oscillation, the internal pull, tipping, tipping, so far and yet so close, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t feeling her cum around his cock, feeling those same slick walls sucking hard around him, pulsing and clenching swallowing him down, no, that he needed to feel. For himself, for her.

His lips were at her ear, Judy’s head hooked over his shoulder as he whispered, “Tell me what you want, what makes you feel good, Princess; if this is my last and your first I want to know” His hand was kneading up and down her side, from chest to thigh, easing tension, feeling her, lighting her up.

Her cheeks flushed at the bluntness the question required, but she writhed under him and quickly answered, “I- I think I can take more…and your hands, what you were doing earlier…”

Grinning lips pressed into her neck, soft, soothing, “I am good with my hands.”

He trailed a few more gentle kisses down her neck before sitting up, sitting back on his heels, and took her hips in his hands, lifting her, pushing back in, and held her as he picked up the pace, thrusting faster, harder, his thumbs stroking her hipbones as he slid her up and down his lap, up and down his cock thrusting down into her with more force, Judy crying out again, but her arms stretched up curling around the door handle, “Keep going- yes- like that-” low guttural moans peeled from her throat and filled the air around them, Don feeling it as he built her up. She was close, and thank god, because they didn’t have much time, but besides that, from this angle, her tits looked spectacular, her hips were angled up his lap, but the rest of her was down low, head on the pillow, tits in her face, tits pouring out of her bra bouncing and circling, hypnotic, every thrust sending them in perpetual motion, he wanted to bury his face in them, lick and suck on them until she came from the feeling of that alone. From this angle he could also see her abs pulling tight, flexing and tensing, could see his cock shoving into her, Judy stretched around him, slick and shining with her juice, and he should be focused, cross that finish line, but he’s kind of lost focus, if this is the end…he needs to do it. Don pulls out again, effortlessly lifting her thighs to his shoulders and dives in, licking and sucking and tongue fucking, Judy shrieks and twists in surprise, “DON- OHMYGO-“ but it’s quickly broken up by her laughter, hands flinging “No! Don! We need to, you need toaaaaaa-" His lips are wet and sloppy and as strong on her clit as they were on her mouth, that pointed tongue now doing the things his fingers hand been doing, and like that Judy comes again, eyes slamming shut, hips jolting and then he’s lowering her and penetrating her before she’s come down and he’s fucking her hard and doing that thing with his fingers and he's rubbing her and fucking her and she’s so wet and he’s so so hard and hot and she can feel him throbbing, his pulse crashing into hers her walls crashing around him and his fingers are so far in her hip she’s sure she’s going to have bruises before they get to the hospital, but he’s coming and she’s coming and he’s not dead and and and

Don freezes, a kick to his gut, and then he’s coming in hot spurts, he curls forward, hand on her clit sliding to her hip, pulsing, thrusting again and again and again, a groaning moan holding her flush against him not letting her slip an inch down his legs.

When he stops, Judy starts laughing again, Don, sucking in a breath, pulls up from his posture, “You’re laughing? Judy Robinson are you laughing at me? You know that could cause some pretty serious self-esteem issues in a lesser man.” He lets go of her hip, sliding his hands down her thighs, Judy slides back, energy zapped, “You’re alive.”

Don comes down on his hands, laying next to her. She wraps her arms around his neck kissing him, grinning and dazed. “Time’s up and you’re alive.”

“So, I guess we’re not in a rush any more…Don’t need to get to the hospital.” his palm is spread wide on her naked back and all he wants to do is know that feeling forever.

Judy makes a face, one he’d swear was regret, and her body shies away, “Don, we still have to go. I commed the hospital, with an ETA before I left. They’re expecting me, they’ll send a team out looking for us if we don’t show up.”

He let her pull away, but kept his arms around her, shrugging as much as he could with one shoulder pressing into the floor, “So comm um back and tell them it was a false alarm, I woke up, I’m fine.”

Judy rolled her eyes, pursing her lips, “Yeah, genius, except, remember the device? The device right there that’s been monitoring your vitals and giving me readings? Yeah, it’s been recording everything: all of your vitals, all of your progress, every diagnoses it’s given. It updates your health file in real time.” She let go, sitting up to get dressed, “And besides that I have to get back to document your care…and hopefully not face an investigation into a) fraternizing with a patient or b) treating someone I’m involved with…”

He didn’t like where this was headed, didn’t like how that sounded. Don sat up, reaching for her arm, gently pulling her to look at him. “Hey, I meant what I said. I love you.” His thumb brushed up and down her arm, “Jude, I don’t want this to make things weird, I told you we don’t need to do anything until you’re ready. I meant that too. Still do.” and then tugged her a little closer, Judy let herself be pulled, but Don stopped, their faces a breath apart, “Doctor Robinson, can I kiss you? Because I’d really like to kiss the woman I love, for saving my life.”

He’s leaving it up to her, but he’s not making a ‘no’ easy. Judy bit her cheek, the slightest smirk breaking from pursed lips. “The woman you love huh? How often are you gonna say that?”

“Welllll, by my count I’ve only said it out loud once, but I plan on saying it about as often as you’ll let me without kicking my ass.” He beams at her, that shit eating, “tell me i’m wrong,” taunting, cocky smile. She loves seeing that smile.

Judy grins back, leaning in and placing a consolatory peck to his lips and pulls away. “Now come on, get dressed.” she pats his chest, standing hunched over put on her pants, ”I’m not kidding, they’ve probably already sent out a search ambulance.”

[firewoodwander]

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” + Coreel UwU

The work is important: this is all Mereel can think about.

The work is important. More important than he is, more important than any one of them. They’re making the cure and it’s almost from scratch, and he’ll make it even if he has to work with the demagolka they prison-broke. But, for whatever reason, not everyone seems to share his exact perspective on things.

When he gets back to the house it’s nearly daybreak. The sky outside is lighting and the birds are growing restless in their perches, nocturnal critters safe in their burrows. It’ll be nice to lie down; he’s stiff from hours of travel and many more sitting around in armour. His brothers blame their new discomforts on Kal’buir for letting them get used to the civvie lifestyle, but Mereel’s suffered the poor adjustment every mission he spent in the grim guts of Triple Zero, and he knows it’ll only ache a bit.

“You’re back late again,” says a voice from the ’fresher door. Mereel almost chokes on the skip of his heart as he spins, wrong-footed and surprised.

Corr watches him with mild amusement. He’s not wary, nor surprised himself, but maybe that’s because he’s caught Mereel like this before.

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” he apologises, watching Mereel relax his shoulders and reholster his decee, but he has some edge to his tone (knowing? Resignation?) that Mereel doesn’t quite like.

“Are you keeping track, now?” he asks, drawling and sardonic. “Can’t really help it when the fence doesn’t keep to my schedule, but I can tell them you set me a bedtime.”

“It’s not that.”

Mereel grunts. All he wants is to hit the hay and knock out for a while before he has to sift more data. He doesn’t want to argue, or fight. Least of all with Corr.

Speaking of, his friend seems to be skulking around in the dark. When he steps out into the hall there isn’t a light to switch off, just pre-dawn lighting his face in a fuzzy, far away pale light. When he steps closer Mereel can see the crooked lash that’s fallen to his cheek, and the displeased twist to his mouth that isn’t thanks to the pull from his scarred jaw.

“You work too hard.” It’s said like it’s a bad thing, a sour taste in Corr’s mouth he’s been made to swallow. “Have you considered letting someone else take over, just for a while? So that you can rest before you work yourself into the ground.”

Mereel grunts and shifts his weight. “Like who, Corr?”

“Anyone.”

Corr’s fingers click quietly against one another when he clenches and releases one fist. Mereel’s gaze drops before he can rein himself in, drawing back up slowly but not far enough to meet Corr’s earnest (too earnest) worried expression.

“And what’s it to you all of a sudden?” he grouses. There’s no bite—he doesn’t know if he has any left. Just fatigue, and a sweaty palm he swipes down his face and lets drag over his neglected stubble. “You’ve never taken an interest in chasing spies before.”

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” Corr segues, voice soft. “When you think I won’t notice, I mean.” Mereel opens his mouth to deflect—anything, with anything—but Corr cuts him off. “You won’t let me look back, even now, even though I know you want to. See,” he reaches out and rests his hand on Mereel’s wrist. As if he were under the control of someone else, Mereel feels his throat constrict around a swallow and his body lean forward, magnetised. Corr smiles. “I know you, too. You’re looking after all of us; you can let me look after you when you need it.”

There’s a long, drawn out quiet around them. The house will come alive soon, some of their family waking even sooner. The weight of The silence presses down on them and all Mereel wants is to rest.

He turns the arm in Corr’s hold, taking his hand in a loose, grounding grip.

“Stay with me?” he rasps. He can barely get the words out, forced between his lips by instincts racing seconds steps ahead of his conscious mind. He swallows again once it computes, wants to pull away, slam a door or something—

Corr tightens the grip, pulls him in with just a press of fingers.

“Of course.”

[felassanis]

"Small" checklist of things I want in Dragon Age 4:

Better hairstyles is obvious

Better looking armour is also obvious. Give me more variety other than "shitty trench coat a school shooter would wear"

A Varric romance. If this is going to be the last game he appears I do not see why you can't throw the dwarf lovers a bone Bioware

Combat similar to Dragon Age 2. I prefer button mashing and getting to whack enemies with my staff than holding trigger while a boring animation plays.

Put Kieran in the plot, he has so much potential. Or at least some kind of revisit to Flemeth taking in the Archdemon soul or what it means that Solas may have that very soul too. Just something with the Archdemon we fought in DAO.

Let us wear Antivan Crow armour.

Please pay homage to the background we pick in character creation. I really don't want another instance of Lavellan suddenly going brain dead when visiting and ancient elven ruin and suddenly having amnesia about their culture and history. Make the world react to our race. Make characters make comments about our class. If our elven protagonist goes to an alienage, don't have them be utterly oblivious to the squalor most elves live in. Because they would be AWARE.

An update from our Warden. I don't really expect the warden to make an appearance because that is insanely tricky. But another letter, or a character updating us on where they are at. Like say, if Zevran makes an appearance in da4 and he was romanced, have him explain if the Warden has gotten any closer to curing the Taint.

Piercing options in the character creation.

A resolution on Anders.

Honestly you know what would be sick but also unlikely but I'm gonna put it here anyway NAVAL EXPLORATION AND COMBAT. I see some concept art featuring what looks like underwater exploration and it reminded me of Black Flag. And if Isabela is back, then it can be her ship we explore by.

More demonisation of the Chantry. Inquisition, as much as I do like that game, leaves such a sour taste in my mouth over the attitude towards the Chantry. It is a powerhouse of abuse and hatred. an instigator of genocide and cultural appropriation and for it to be treated like a sick puppy that just needs to go to the vet is terrible. Going to Tevinter, somewhere that just disregards the Chantry, should offer an environment where we can finally explore how bad the chantry is.

Blood magic specialisation and more exploration towards its positive uses.

Antivan Crow origin.

Divinity Original 2 mechanic where magic and bombs can inflict elements onto the environment. So like, if you make it rain and then cast an ice based power. The puddles will turn to ice and make enemies slip. Spicing up combat.

Also divinity original sin 2 mechanic where you can romance anyone because your idea of attractive might not be same as your player's. because Fane was the best romance and you nearly skipped out on Solas being an option so....can't really trust you to decide who we can and can't romance.

For Dwarven players. Make the camera cut half their face off its so funny.

Speaking of dwarven players please try and work with propertions. Even if that's making new animations for love interests to bend down or pick up their dwarven lover during kiss scenes. Believe me the game will look better for it and your fans will appreciate it when their small dwarf doesn't suddenly GROW.

Also, more romance scenes in general? Idk it feels like such a drag when you wanna romance a character but across 40+ hours of gameplay you only have 3 romantic cutscenes.

More personality. The Inquisitior was so wooden and I would love a system like the blue, purple, red dialogue wheel to make a come back because as simple as it was IT WORKED. Hawke felt alive especially purple. And have companions COMMENT on your disposition. Have serious characters call you an arsehole or hide their smiles when your character is being snarky.

[twittercomfrnklin2001-blog]

[Rec]

Arguably the best found-footage horror film and one of the few in which that format makes dramatic sense, Jaume Belaguero and Paco Plaza’s [REC] (2007, Prime) is a totally immersive film experience. A news magazine host (Manuela Velasco) and her cameraman, Pablo, are filming a typical night at a fire station when the crew to whom they’re assigned is called to answer a distress call from an apartment building. What they discover is the start of an infection that turns people into fast zombies, and before long they’re trapped with the tenants as the government seals off the building until the plague can be identified and a cure developed. You could get whiplash watching the film. Pablo is pretty quick on his feet. But Balaguero and Plaza wisely build at least one oasis into the picture — a series of often comic interviews as Velasco gets the tenants to talk about what’s going on. The infection has its convenient side. The medical examiner sent into the building states that the time between exposure and full-blown infection varies depending on one’s blood type. And since we don’t know the characters’ blood types, they can turn at whatever point suits the filmmakers. One has been holding on for over a day. Another gets bitten and it’s presto, instant zombie. But it’s the rare horror film that gets to me, and when my dog jumped off the sofa at a key point, I had to peel myself off the ceiling. Back in 2007, the film got some resonance from 9/11, with its depiction of policemen and fire fighters risking their lives in a building that reeks of death. It’s also got a more contemporary power now that we’re dealing with COVID. There’s even a character who’s a Spanish Karen. Balaguero and Plaza didn’t think the film would go anywhere and considered releasing it direct to DVD. But it took off at the international box office, inspiring three sequels in which one or both were involved, a tepid American remake, a spirited take-off on DRAG RACE ESPANA and even an immersive theatrical experience.

[daedalmirage]

POST-TRIAL 3.2 | “ LIVIN' ON SOMEONE ELSE'S PAGE ! ” | SIR GAWAIN | 🚒 |

He's quiet, for a long time.

Perhaps characteristically quiet, perhaps not. His gaze one more of observation -- Gawain's usual lightness evaporated for something much more-- Dutiful.

Like how he dutifully shifts, every so often, as Marigold speaks -- to let her look at them more, to turn her to face those she would prefer to address. His breathing matching hers.

And how he dutifully listens to the rest of them -- positing theories that he, believes, Inkyo is trying to shoot down--

(All of it so incomprehensible--)

Ultimately, his gaze only slightly widens when Misery comes back in -- but not to drag Inkyo to a punishment; not to stop this explanation that--

It's when she speaks that he starts -- gripping Marigold tighter -- pulling her in with deep distrust. Before....

(So they had always had to die -- but it--) (He almost feels embarrassed -- as if he should feel bad to have taken this seriously-- because--) (....)

(...He supposes he can't get too upset. Not with how today was going --)

He lets it sit for a while, Ray taking the plunge in trying to untangle any of this -- and giving, at least, some kind of help. Though he still has questions -- and it would be a waste to not speak--

The first thing he says is a stall. It's meant to buy him time:

"Anyone else startin' t'feel a little like a rat in a cage...? Guess this is what we get for bettin' on a miracle cure, twice... almost feel like I should apologize."

A hard swallow. His eyebrows furrow -- his chin resting on Marigold's hair -- a twitch to his mouth -- once, twice.

"...."

He doesn't know where to start. He doesn't know how to address this. It feels a race to a shining beacon -- a finish line -- their salvation -- but the path there is muddy and unclear and the paths diverge and mesh and force him up the cliff and down a hill and into the sea and he doesn't even know if he can reach it--

(They want to help the rest of them -- but how? He highly doubts--)

Maybe it's best to voice his confusion. His eyes casting around all of them:

"...I mean, two people are babysittin' us. But-- I mean-- what does that mean? Why do we gotta be babysat? All we're supposed t'do is kill each other. We die here, we end up on th'other side fine -- marks off, as Rayster said -- as Ms. Pluto an' Ms. Sonia can corroborate. So what's with all th'delayin'? You'd think someone would have just put us into a Battle Royale by now...."

His tone remains calm, level headed. But Marigold can feel his muscles twitch -- how his fingers dig into the hold -- his heart beat rapid.

"We gotta be executed? Just do it all at once. What's th'point of all these punishments an' leavin' us alone f'a month? What's th'point of makin' us kill each other -- slowly, takin' fuckin' months? Makin' alliances an' likin' each other an' hatin' each other an' drinkin' an' partyin' an' fightin' an' whatever else?  It's torture.  What's the point?"

....

"An' -- don't mind me askin', Ms. Pluto, Ms. Sonia -- I know neither one of ya can be my biggest fans -- but why th'fuck are they keepin' y'all around? Your curse is gone. Why do you need t'just hang out? Why can't y'go home?"

A tsking noise. He shifts Marigold in the hold.

"...Y'know. There's been somethin' that's botherin' me this whole time...."

....

"An' maybe it's nothin'. But y'know, guys like me, we think of shit like this. The money. Why th'fuck is the money s'good for us t'be here? Eradicatin' in batches, yeah? ENDRO knows th'cure, but Laplace brought us here. ENDRO's finally lettin' us in on it. Y'don't think...."

...But he ultimately lets that sit.  Something tugging at his neurons, something giving him an icy chill. He prefers not to speak it.

"But, y'know. I ain't exactly th'guy people key into th'bigger picture, so I ain't real good at spottin' a conspiracy. Maybe a smarter guy can point us in a better direction...."

[angelamajiki]

PARINGS: Brother! Tamaki Amajiki x Female! Sister! Reader

CW: yandere, incest, stealthing, con to noncon, quirk play, riding, manipulation, possessiveness, slight angst, implied kidnapping

AN: thank you to @suzuki-violin-school for beta reading!! @sightoru @bonesoftheimpala come get y’all juice

You always had a strange relationship with your big brother, seeming to be just a touch close for your parent’s liking. But the pair of you never paid too much mind to it. Something about it just felt natural and right. You were thick as thieves, always confiding and comforting each other when no-one else seemed well enough to do the job.

When you ran to your brother’s house the second your first boyfriend broke up with you for a completely arbitrary reason, leaving you to cry on your nii-san’s shoulder to deal with your heartache.

“I told you he was no good for you, bunny. I knew from the start that something was wrong with him. There’s no one that’s good enough for my baby sister.”

Then it happened again. And again. And again, until it seemed like every partner you’ve ever had lost interest after the first few months of your relationship. It was devastating to feel unloved and unwanted, but at least you had your big brother to make everything better. Tamaki always reminded you how much he loved you, how smart and intelligent you were, how anyone would be lucky to have you, and the people who have dumped you were complete fools to not see what a gem you were.

And anyone would be lucky to have your big brother; you reminded him as well. The number seven pro hero who had finally blossomed into a confident, top-tier hero with a heart of gold. He was so strong, not to mention a heartthrob. Maybe it felt wrong to be jealous of the attention he gets from the media for his work along with his looks. Still, maybe it was because you knew better than anyone else that one day, the devotion he showed towards you would be the devotion he showed towards his own partner.

Not that you ever planned to tell him you didn’t want his undivided attention to be cast elsewhere, but just like everything else about your relationship, it flowed out naturally when you were crying about your recent first date that had ghosted you after dinner.

“Tama-nii, I’m never going to find someone! Why does no one want me?”

You sobbed into his chest, clinging to him like you did when you were a child, searching for the lost innocence of your youth in his arms. His strong hands embraced you without question, without judgment, as he kissed the top of your head tenderly while shushing you gently.

“Oh, bunny. That’s not true at all-”

What could he know about your struggle? The media treats him like the very man who hung the stars in the sky, and how could you blame them? He was the moon, the very embodiment of tenderness that waxes and wanes with a gentle, shimmering brilliance that you can’t help but hide in the shadows of.

“Yes, it is! What could you possibly know of not being wanted when you’re just going to end up leaving me like everyone else does?” His silence spoke louder than your own sobbing. “One day, you’ll find someone and leave me to be alone again because no one wants me!”

His hand, that touch you’ve become so familiar with, gently strokes your lower back.

“Who said I don't want you? You're making assumptions, little bunny.”

His words tickled your ear, got your heart racing as he quelled your cries of anguish. “Because I certainly do.”

Nimble fingers tilted your chin up to meet his soft gaze, lust clouding his eye like the calm before the storm.

“B-But not like that-”

“Exactly like that.”

His words lit a fire in your core, but forced ice to run through your veins. Your brother could never have you in the way you wanted him to, the way you needed him to.

“It's not that simple.” You choked out, straining to contain yourself from your fleeting desires. This fleeting feeling of weakness can't let you risk your relationship with your brother, or worse, let him be your everything for just a moment and watch him walk away when he's done. “We can't.”

“And why is that? Isn't it obvious that I'm not going anywhere unless I'm with you?”

His face inched closer to yours, a blush splattering his pale skin up to his ears.

“It’s wrong-”

Your eyes flicked to his lips for a brief moment as you found yourself frozen.

“Not if I love you.”

Plush lips sealed over yours, enveloping you in the tenderness you'd had always envied him for. The love, the obsession he had for you had come crashing down in waves over you as you kissed him back, eager to feed off his affection and attention.

Teeth and tongue clashed together in a messy display of the taboo; hips pushed flush against each other as you whined into his mouth, sobbing in the relief of finally feeling yearned for.

The question of whether or not it was right wasn't plaguing you anymore, not like it did you when you scorned yourself for the infectious desires that coiled in your core late at night. His love cleansed you, cured you of your ailment as his tongue and lips made their way to your neck.

Sweet nothings tickled your ear as he nibbled and kissed along your tender flesh, leaving bright pink spots in his loving wake. The tears from your eyes dripped onto his hair, but neither of you seemed to care.

“Don't cry, my love.”

His words were like a symphony, enthralling you with the melody that he carried in his voice and the song he sung to soothe your overwhelmed state. “Let your big brother take care of you, okay?”

Clothes were discarded in a flurry, tossed somewhere beyond the couch the two of you were grinding on. His hands were so strong, yet so gentle as you were carried like a princess, his princess, to his bed where he no doubt intended to indulge in every one of your desires.

Your knight in shining armor kissed you breathless under the moonlight that trickled through the window, casting his shadow over you. Even now, he stole the limelight but you couldn't find it in yourself to care this time, not when he touched you so lovingly.

Nimble fingers kneaded and pulled at your plump flesh, making their ways down to the wetness between your legs. Shame flushed your face as he throatily chuckled. “Wet for me already, imouto? You're flattering your nii-san.”

The pad of his thumb circled your clit gently, sharp eyes watching as your body jolted and twitched at the sensation. “You’re acting as though you've never been touched before.”

You hear the smile in his voice without even seeing it. It only served to flush your shame even further, avoiding the eyes that were fucking you with everything they had.

“Don’t take those pretty eyes off of me.”

His middle finger prodded gently at your hole, teasing the twitching thing with circles of his forefingers. Shyly, your eyes turned to him, begging, pleading for him to stop teasing already!

And how could he deny such an unspoken request from the love of his life? Tamaki already knew what you wanted before you even did, he always did. He’s been able to read you like a book, already knowing what would be on the next page before it was written.

Still, he liked to tease, or more so needed to. It would fuel him like no other to finally hear you beg for him, beg for the love only he knew how to give you. Not that he would be so selfish to deny you of all that you wanted, he was more than prepared to spoil his lovely princess.

But, the man couldn't deny the inklings of his insecurities coming back to bite him. There was a chance that you could regret this later, that you would run far from his reach the second the realization that you slept with your brother donned on you. Tamaki wouldn't have it, now or ever.

Your moans drew him back to the present as his finger pumped in and out of you, dragging along your spongy, wet walls that gripped him oh so nicely. He could hardly handle the anticipation of getting to feel you around his cock.

“N-Nii-san! I can't wait, want you inside!”

Your broken cry sent a shudder down his spine and a jump to his cock. Such a desperate little thing you were, but you were his desperate little thing.

Maneuvering the both of you, he sat you in his lap while holding your ass flush to his hips.

“You know what to do, pretty girl.”

Swallowing thickly, you pulled his cock out of his boxers and positioned yourself to sink down on it.

“Y-You’ll pull out, right?”

“Of course, imouto.”

That was all you needed. Determined to please him, you pushed just the tip in before sitting all the way down on it. A choked gasp filled the space as you felt the fullness of your brother’s cock inside of you.

“S-So full, nii-san!” He stretched you perfectly, letting any pain fade comfortably into pleasure.

It was then that Tamaki decided he would ruin you, not only for himself but for anyone else who dared to think they would be able to please you.

As you ground your hips down into his, you couldn't help but start to feel him grow inside you. Was this normal for sex?

“Ah! Hold on, it's really starting to hurt nii-san.”

Your hips lifted off of his, only to be slammed back down by those strong hands you've come to love.

“Just relax, princess. I'm doing this because I love you.”

Admittedly, this was his first time to try to manifest this part of his body, but he had to try for you, didn't he? Your future with him depended on it. The kiss he pressed to your temple was to soothe himself more than you, focusing on the horse meat he had eaten early that day just after you called him.

He shushed your struggles, hugging you close and stroking the ever-growing bulge in your stomach as he completed his manifestation.

“There we go.” He kissed your cries of the pain away. “It’s okay, you’re okay, princess.”

You had to understand that he was doing this for both of you. He’d ruin that cunt of yours, make it so no man other than Tamaki and his quirk could ever satisfy you.

“You were made to my cock, and mine alone, princess. I'll make you see that.”

The pain was nearly unbearable as he began to thrust up into you, hitting your cervix with the strange cock head he had produced. His hand stayed flush to the bulge on your stomach, stroking it gently as he pounded into you from below.

Your cries and moans meshed together in a perfect melody, one that was always destined to be sung by the both of you, together as one.

Neither of you were going to last long, not with his quirk in play.

“Oh God, I'm gonna cum, princess!” His thrusts became erratic, pounding into you with a new vigor.

“Y-You promised to pull out!” You cried in frustration, feeling his cum fill you up to the brim and dripping out of even with his cock still inside. Tamaki thumbed at your clit to help push you over the edge as he shrunk his cock back down, feeling you cum around him with a cry and shaky legs.

He pulled out, looking at the bulge his cum inside you left behind as he pushed on it gently, watching it gush out of you.

“Now no one else will ever want you.”

[rebeccccccaaa]

TEᑎᔕIOᑎ

_____________________________

ᗩGEᗪ ᑌᑭ!ᑭETEᖇ ᑭᗩᖇKEᖇ ᙭ ᖇEᗩᗪEᖇ

ᔕᑌᗰᗰᗩᖇY: You and Peter have always been very flirty and touchy with each other. You chalked it up to just how he is, not that you minded. But what happens when Peter gets hit with Hydra’s infamous sex pollen and all he seems to be doing is moaning your name. 

ᗯᗩᖇᑎIᑎGᔕ: smut of course lol 18+ (virgin kink?, first time!reader, experienced!Peter, etc, unprotected sex cuz i forgot to write that lol be safe though, and a digusting amount of fluff) 

ᗩ/ᑎ: (non/dub con as per usual with sex pollen fics) although i tried to make as consensual as possible 

ᗯOᖇᗪ ᑕOᑌᑎT: 4.0k (i’m so sorry this is so long lmao)

_________________________________________

“We’re back!” Tony shouted, his voice echoing in the building. They had gone on a mission to infiltrate yet another Hydra base.

Peter was currently sitting and watching television and you were watching from the kitchen making two drinks for you and Peter. You both looked to the team walking in before scurrying beside Bruce and Tony who walked straight into the lab. 

“What did you get this time?” you asked excitedly. Sometimes the team brings back really cool things back from missions and in particular the Hydra missions have the coolest things. Unusually, Thor too walked in the lab before you all circled around the table and Tony placed a plant. 

He backs away as did Bruce and Thor so after looking at Peter with wide eyes you both also stepped back. 

“What is it?” Peter whispered.

“A plant,” Thor said.

“Not shit, Goldilocks. What does it do? You told us to take home, now what?” Tony said.

“Well, Man of Iron, it’s a sex pollen plant.”

“A what?” you gasped.

“Most planets use this as a sort of breeding plant; some species don’t really have the… stamina that Midgardians and Asgardians have.”

As Thor explained this, Tony and Bruce huddle away from the plant moving towards the computer to write down notes and data about what Thor was telling them. You followed pursuit also being intrigued by it. 

Unfortunately Peter did not follow and instead moved closer to the plant to take a closer look. The flower was beautiful. The petals were a soft shade of periwinkle and the pollen was yellow almost like gold. The same shade of golden yellow dust swirled around the flower itself. It was hypnotizing. He really wanted to smell it.

Suddenly as Peter got closer just to give it a quick sniff, he could smell an almost overbearing amount of your scent. That delicious scent of vanilla and lavender that you smelled so nicely of. That scent that made Peter want to run his hands through your hair and his nose along your neck. 

“One thing you should never do is inhale its pollen, if one does it could heighten their desires into madness.”

Peter looked up with wide eyes knowing he just did something he probably shouldn't have done. 

“What desires exactly?” Bruce asked.

“Well, sex.”

Peter started coughing.

“Pete are you ok?” you asked walking up to him.

He looked you in your eyes and his own dilated insanely. You backed away slightly concerned for your friend only for him to take a step closer to you. The lab coated with silence analyzing his behavior since it was so unlike him. Tony got up from sitting on a stool and Thor puffed his chest anticipating his next move; he was certain the boy breathed in the plant’s pollen. 

“It smelled just like you,” he whispered close to your face; his hands reaching under your shirt slightly.

The minute he put his hands on you, all three men ran you and Peter. Bruce pulled you behind him while Tony and Thor grabbed Peter dragging him away from you. You felt hot after what Peter had just done; in front of people too. He thrashed in Thor’s and Tony’s grasp, groaning and shouting from them to let him go. 

You felt tears brimming your eyes. You did not like Peter like this. He was crying and begging to be with you, which you’ll admit surprised you. 

“What’s happening to him?” you asked from behind Banner.

“The boy seems to have inhaled the pollen as I said not to do.”

“Yeah I get that! Why is he crying? Is he hurt?” you asked.

“Not exactly, the pollen will affect his mind and simulate pain as if he were to die, but his body will be perfectly fine.”

“What?” you all said at the same time.

“How do we fix it?” Tony asked.

“Y/n, baby. Please,” Peter practically moaned making everyone kind of uncomfortable.

“Well, the only way I’m aware of is, well, sex. And it seems like Peter desires the young lady,” you eyes widened and you shifted under everyone’s stares. 

“No, no way,” Tony said; you were like a daughter to Tony and therefore boys were something he wasn’t too keen on the idea of you having. He still thinks you’re too young even though you’re already a consenting adult. 

“Tony, the boy-”

“No, I’m not letting Y/n do that. We’ll find a different cure. Take him to his room and don’t let him out.”

“Tony, are you sure about this?” Bruce asked Tony.

“Yes I’m sure, Banner. There’s no way in hell I’m putting her in that situation. It’s not fair. Now come on, more time talking, less time finding a cure.”

“Technically there’s already a cure,” Thor muttered. 

“Go!” Tony pushed him out. 

“Is he gonna be ok?” you softly asked, hearing his cries and screams for you as Thor took him to is room.

“He’s gonna be alright, bug,” Tony said, hugging you. 

Steve and Nat both walked in the lab after changing out  of their clothes concerned with all the screaming they had been hearing.

“What happened?” Nat asked.

“Thor had us bring this plant home for analysis and turns out this shit makes anyone who smells the pollen horny as hell.”

“Really? Come on Tony, we heard the kid crying and screaming. What’s really going on?” Steve didn’t believe him at first.

“He wants to… have sex,” Bruce said shyly.

“Wait really?” Nat asked.

“With who?” Steve hesitantly asked curiously.

Tony and Bruce simply look at you, which you curled into yourself feeling embarrassed. 

“Oh no, honey are you ok? Did he do anything?” Nat asked, holding your hand.

“I’m fine, I’m just worried about him.”

“Don’t. We’ll fix this I promise,” Tony said getting to work.

Well now it’s been 8 hours and Peter is still crying and moaning your name. You had been in Nat's room with her, Steve, and Bucky. Sam and Thor had been outside ‘patrolling’ Peter’s room making sure he was as ok as he can be, though it’s been proven that he seems to be in excruciating pain. 

Tony and Bruce had been in the lab the entire day, you’d think they made wonderful progress and found a cure by now but no. All they’ve found was normal samples of Peter’s… everything. He was physically perfectly fine. 

You were very quiet as they played video games and watched movies. You couldn’t help but feel burdened because you knew you could fix all of this. All you needed to do was go to Peter’s room and let him have his way with you. It’s not like you wouldn’t mind. You and Peter have always had this sort of tension and extra friendly behavior between you guys ever since you met. 

To say you hadn’t developed feelings for him would be a huge lie. 

“Are you ok?” Nat asked you.

“No, not really.”

“I know you want to help him but it’s for the better. Let Tony and Bruce find a cure.”

“Actually that won’t be happening anytime soon,” Thor said, walking with Sam. 

“What happened?” Steve asked.

“They haven’t found anything and although Peter will be physically fine, mentally he could be extremely traumatized by the time they find something, if anything. The pollen mimics physical pain until sexual ‘needs’ are fulfilled by the person they desire most,” Thor looked to you at the end. 

“I want to help him,” you said.

“Y/n, that’s not fair to you,” Steve said.

“And it’s not fair to Peter if I don’t help! He didn’t mean to smell the flower. I can't just sit here waiting for nothing to happen when I can go in there and help him!” you argued, “If I don’t, he’ll not only hate you for keeping me away from him but me too for not trying.”

“Don’t be silly, he’d never hate you,” Nat said.

“He will if I’m the reason he’s going to be traumatized for the rest of his life.”

“Come with me,” Nat said, holding your hand.

“Nat,” Steve warned.

“Steve, you and I both know this has to happen. They’re adults,” Nat shot back. 

You followed Nat out of the room. 

“Are you absolutely sure about this? Your first time should be special-”

“First time?” your eyes widen.

“Y/n, I know you're a virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin,” you mumbled.

“Really? When was your first?” she poked.

“It was- was in, it was high school,” you stuttered.

“With who?”

“... Tommy?” you said after a long moment of silence, trying to come up with a name.

“Tommy?” Nat smirked.

“Yeah, he was in my history class,” you lied.

“Ok we’ll work on that,” she said.

“On what?”

“Lying.”

“Hey, virginity is merely a social construct made by men who think their tiny dicks have the ability to change a woman’s life. It’s gonna be like a five second pump; I’ll be in and out,” Nat laughed at that.

“Ok, fine. Follow me.”

You followed her to Peter’s room where his moans and groans got louder with each step you got closer. Truthfully you were a bit nervous about the situation. Sure you did imagine your first to be extra special in a dim lit room with flowers and with someone you love. Well, now it looks like it’s going to be a dark room with your best friend who’s in the room driven by magic sex pollen, but at least you love him. 

You got to the door and Peter instantly knew you were on the other side. His senses overwhelmed him with your scent, your racing heart beat. You exchanged a few words with Nat before she hugged you and left you to go into his room alone. 

You slipped inside and immediately met with Peter crawling on the floor to you in nothing but a pair of boxers; a large prominent tent formed where his dick was. 

“Y/n, you’re here,” he rubbed your legs and kissed your thighs softly still on the floor at your feet. 

“Yeah, I am. I’m here to help you,” you said shakily.

“Oh god, you smell so good,” his hand reached up behind your thighs towards your ass and you panicked. 

“Peter wait,” you pulled his hand away. 

“What, baby? What’s wrong?” he too panicked.

“Nothing, I just… I’m kinda scared.”

“Of what? Of me?” he stood up and backed away from you.

“No! Not of you. I’ve never… done this, you know?”

“Y/n, why are doing this then- ugh!” he groaned, a wave of need and sexual frustration rushed over him making his body cramp. 

“I want to help you,” you grabbed his hand; he pulled his hand back very quickly and retracted his body over to the bed. 

“Peter, please let me help you,” you walked over to him.

“No, Y/n. I can’t do that to you.”

You were getting tired of his arguing. You wanted to do this. You rushed to him and took your shirt off hoping that’ll prove a point or something. 

“Look, look. I want to help you, Pete. Let me do that,” you cupped his face making him look at you. 

His eyes were so dilated nearly black as he looked into your eyes. His hands caressed your bare stomach and lower back making goosebumps rise across your body. He leaned forward running his nose along your neck breathing you in. He used every ounce of control he had in his body to not flip you on the bed rail you into the mattress. He had to be gentle. The idea of you never have been touched shouldn't have turned him on as much as it does. 

Your stomach fluttered and you let out a shaky breath. Arousal pooled in your underwear with each move that Peter made. Your hands rested on his shoulders unsure of what to do but thankfully Peter moved your hands in his hair and you gently ran your fingers through his curly brown locks as he kissed and nibbled at your neck. 

He moved your bra strap down your shoulder tracing his lips along your collarbone to your shoulder.

“I'm so sorry, baby,” he whispered against your skin.

“It’s ok Pete, I want to help you. Teach me. Teach me how to make you feel good.” 

He practically growled picking you up and laying you on his bed. He kissed your stomach and left small bites and purple marks littered across your belly. He looked at you to make sure you were ok before pulling your shorts down your legs and off to the side. He continued to kiss up and down your legs growing harder at the small pants and gasps you made above him. 

“I'm gonna give you a little taste, ok darling?” he whispered against your inner thighs.

You nodded and lifted your hips off the bed for Peter to easily take your underwear off. You grew embarrassed at how wet you were. Peter only chuckled before going in a licking along your entrance. You gasped and clenched your thighs together, only to wrap around Peter’s head pulling him closer to you.

This isn’t Peter’s first time eating a girl out so he was obviously quite skilled in bringing you a lot of pleasure from his tongue alone. Now in his twenties, after high school and after his identity was revealed, Peter somewhat tumbled his way into playboy town just like his mentor. 

Girls left and right shot their chance to spend a night in the spider boy’s bed. But when Peter met you, oh boy, the kid fell in love. You were this innocent little thing that Peter just wanted to hold and take care of all the time. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. He stopped seeing other women in hopes that one day you’d be out of your mind enough to give him a shot. 

Now here you were, laying in his bed like an angel, letting him have his way with you because he was shithead and smelled the flower when he wasn’t supposed to. 

Your hips squirmed around, pressure building up in the pit of your stomach. You moaned loudly as you got closer to your oragsm. Your hands went to Peter’s hair making him hum when you tugged on his hair. His vibrations pushed over the edge and you came for the first time that night on Peter’s face.

“God that was hot, baby. Are you ok?” he asked, crawling up your body after discarding his boxers.

“Yeah, that was amazing,” you cupped his face, smiling.

He leaned down and kissed you for the first time ever. His hands roamed your almost naked body except for your bra of which you still had on. Not for long of course. Peter leaned back to sit up pulling you with him so you were now sitting straddling his lap. 

You could feel his dick against you and your body shuddered in arousal. His hands wrapped around you to skillfully remove your bra, the last piece of clothing left on you. When he did so you covered yourself in instinct never having been naked in front of anyone before in your life. 

“Don’t cover up princess. You’re so beautiful. I wanna see you,” he whispered, cupping his hand under your chin so you could look at him.

“Sorry, it’s- It’s a lot,” you whispered back. 

“I know and I’ll try to go slow but if I’m not inside you right now I think I’m gonna pass out,” he moaned. 

You looked down in between your bodies to find Peter’s dick big, swollen, and red. You felt bad because you don’t know if it’ll fit inside you and it looks painful. 

“Please, Yn,” Peter had tears in eyes begging for you to take the pain away.

“Ok, I’m ready.”

Peter grabbed his cock and lined up to your entrance. You got up and slowly sank down feeling him stretching you out. With how aroused and wet you were after Peter’s mouth you were able to slide all the way down without feeling too much pain.

Peter moaned when he bottomed out and grabbed your face you kiss passionately. You moved slowly up and down and soon all the pain you felt subsided into pleasure and you too started moaning above him. 

“You look so fucking good riding me, princess.”

His words made you moan even more embarrassed that everyone can probably hear you and Peter having sex. You bit your lip in hopes to silence the moans as much as possible, but Peter didn’t like that.

“Don’t. I want everyone in this building to know who fucking you this good,” he flipped you over onto you back and started thrusting wildly. 

“Let them know what a good little girl you are for daddy. Let them know who’s name you’re gonna be screaming all night.”

“Peter oh god,” you moaned.

“Huh? You like it when I call you a good girl?”

“Yes!”

“My good girl. My little slut,” Peter groaned in your ear.

You were getting insanely close to your climax and Peter’s words only sped up the approach. 

“Daddy, I think I’m close,” you whispered, pleasure becoming overwhelming.

“Let go baby. Cum all over my cock,” he said.

Your oragsm ripped through you and you practically screamed into his ear. Pleasure came over you in a huge wave. Your eyes screwed shut and your legs wrapped around Peter’s torso pulling him impossibly close. Your body felt limp under Peter’s and when you opened your eyes Peter's face held worrisome and frustration. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I haven’t came,” his voice trembled.

“It’s ok. We can keep going,” you said tiredly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he buried his face in your neck.

“You won’t hurt me, Peter. I promise.”

He kissed softly before gently flipping you over and thrusted into furiously.

Six hours later Peter finally came after you did so nine times; and that was before you stopped counting. Your body shook and Peter cleaned you up. He had a small fridge where he kept drinks from time to time and grabbed a water bottle for you to drink. 

You breathed heavily after drinking a copious amount of water before laying back down. You turned to check the clock on his bedside and saw that it was around three thirty in the morning. Peter crawled into bed with you, both still naked not caring enough to change. He held you impossibly close, burying his face in your shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry. Are you ok?” he mumbled in your skin. 

“I mean it was a lot,” you chuckled.

“I swear if it weren’t for that stupid fucking pollen our first time would have been softer and special,” he said, making you look at him with surprise. 

“What do you mean?”

“Uh, well, look. Y/n, I really like you and I know that timing is horrible but it’s true. I promise.”

“Well, I like you too,” you smiled at him.

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

“Wow. God, you’re amazing. Thank you for today,” he whispered, cuddling you close.

“Of course. I’d do anything for you.” 

You both fell  asleep soundly in each other's arms until you both woke up the next day from loud yet muffled voices downstairs. The sun was shining very bright, lighting the whole room up brightly. You stirred around and peeked over Peter’s sleeping body to find that it was around noon already and you two were still in bed. 

Peter moved a bit slowly waking up. You turned around to face and watched his beautiful face slowly come to life. His eyes met your eyes and you both smiled before bursting into giggles; hiding your face in his chest. 

“We’ll have to get up soon, you know,” he said, making you sigh dramatically.

“Let’s run away, before they make fun of us. They had to have heard, right?” you said, slightly panicked.

Peter just laughed and shook his head. He reached to kiss you, moving your hair off your neck eyes widening. 

“Oh man,” he said, thumb rubbing the dark spots he left on you.

“What?” You pushed the sheets off your body feeling intensely sore. You heard Peter gasped as you trotted to a mirror.

Your body was covered in bruises and hickeys that Peter left for literally everyone to see. When you looked in the mirror you yelled Peter’s name completely shocked at the state of your body. 

“I can’t believe you!”

“Well, in my opinion I think you looking fucking sexy,” he said coming up behind you.

“I like them,” you said shyly, “But everyone’s gonna see them, no?”

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen next time.”

“Next time?”

“Hell yeah. Only if you want of course,” he chuckled, “Let’s take a shower before we grab some food.”

That was filled with giggles and little touches. Kisses were exchanged practically every minute. You both came out of the shower and Peter so generously lent you a pair of clean boxers and one of his shirts fitting way too big on you. He wore these delicious looking grey sweatpants and a tight fitted black shirt. You practically drooled over him.

“No, later,” he winked.

He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers before heading down stairs preparing for what could be an upcoming disaster. You came down stairs meeting everyone appearing to be arguing probably over what you did. Everyone noticed you two and immediately stopped conversing. 

Tony sat on a stool, arms crossed and an unamused look staring at you both while everyone else looked down or at each other, anywhere at but you guys.

“Before you say anything, everything that happened is my fault,” Peter pulled you behind him. 

Tony simply looked at you and made you feel shy and ashamed somewhat under his gaze. He told you to stay away and you didn’t listen.

“Don’t even look at her. She has nothing to do with this,” he said when Tony shifted his gaze.

“Relax, kid. Look we all talked. Thor told me about the effects the pollen can have mentally and the trauma it can impact when ‘untreated’ for too long. We weren’t going to find a cure anytime soon and I don’t even want to think about the consequences you’d have to pay because I'm a stubborn old man who didn’t like seeing the kids not be kids anymore. You both are adults and I had no right to interfere with that. Besides everyone knows you two are in love.”

“We’re not in love,” Peter mumbled.

“Love is such a strong word,” you mumbled simultaneously. 

“Don’t argue with me,” Tony said. 

“Sorry,” you both whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted.

“We also agreed that starting today we will be installing soundproofing in both of your rooms and Y/n, maybe put some ice on…” he pointed to your neck but then waved around your whole body because you were pretty beaten up. 

“Thanks, guys,” Peter said holding your hand again.

“Congrats on getting the girl finally,” Steve said.

Before you two left you saw Nat wink at you and you smiled running away with Peter most likely to go cuddle and maybe fuck another round if your body feels better. As much as you hate to admit, thank god Peter smelled that fucking plant. 

[opalesense]

you asked for it

kaeya & f!reader [NSFW]

4.2k words • ~30 min. read

summary: after a frustrating and touch starved week, kaeya catches you playing with yourself despite promising you wouldn’t while he was gone. needless to say, he is not happy.

warnings: sadist kaeya, lots of degradation, choking, bondage, spanking, belt whipping, facefucking

notes: i’m so embarrassed to post this because i’ve never written a full nsfw thing before hahahhddhdhd anyway i’m going to hell... also if you can spot canon voice lines i’ll give you a smooch

"I’M HOME, PRINCESS!"

 Kaeya's alluring voice marked his distant presence outside the bedroom door. The sound of the front door closing behind him made me jump and snapped me out of my daydreaming state.  I could hear him taking off his shoes and putting his bags down on the dining table, the sounds of his coat shuffling off his body and onto the coat rack making my thoughts race even faster.

 He's home already?  I thought he was coming home tomorrow!

 "Our new recruits did so well in training that Jean let me off a day early.  They don't need anything else from me for now," he said, as if he were reading the questions that bubbled in my head.  "Can you believe it?  I hardly ever get a break.  I guess today is truly my lucky day."

 Panic began to bubble in my stomach now as I heard his footsteps quickly advancing towards me, giving me no time to cover up the sticky situation I put myself in.

 Literally, a sticky situation.

 I had been spending the last half hour curing my loneliness in bed, using my hands to replace the pleasure I was missing so badly from Kaeya.  His sudden return home made me curse under my breath. I was so close to a release too.

 I quickly pulled my fingers away and sprung up from the bed, rushing to the dresser to find some clothes to throw on.  But as soon as I pulled the nearest shirt over my head, the bedroom door creaked open, revealing the handsome figure standing and immediately pinning his eyes at me.

 "Hi, Kaeya!" I turned and took a few steps towards him, immediately wrapping my arms around his torso and burying my head in his chest.  He smelled like sweat and hard work.  "Welcome home, sweetheart!"

 "[Y/N]," Kaeya placed cold hands on my lower back to return the hug and gave me a sweet smile, "what were you doing just now, cutie?"

 "I was just about to take a bath," I quickly lied and cupped his face with my dry hand to give him a peck on the cheek.  "Care to join me?"

 His expression suddenly changed from gentle and loving to unimpressed.  He could see through my lie – I could tell.  He was always so good at spotting my lies. His blank eyes pierced through mine, sending a shiver down my spine.  Or maybe that was his hands slowly freezing up my skin with his vision, the annoyance easily seeping through his sharp stare.

 "Are you sure, princess?" he reached to grab my other hand and lifted it up to his face, licking my wet fingers without breaking eye contact. He let out a deep growl at the taste, his eyes turning more dangerous by the second.  Any hopes of me escaping this lie were completely gone now.  "It doesn't seem like you were... 'just about to take a bath.'"

 "Kaeya..." my body quivered at his strong grip on my hand, "Listen, I’m so sorry, I was just so lonely without you–"

 His face inched closer to mine as he slowly walked both of us to the edge of the bed.  "You couldn't wait for a week?" his sharp voice tickled my ears, "I specifically told you to wait for me, didn't I?  You even promised me you would."

 "Y-yes, I did promise," we stood at the foot of the bed, my naked hips desperately pressed into his.  "I’m so sorry–"

 "Yeah, you’re 'so sorry,'" he mocked me and rolled his eyes with a smirk.  "You better be sorry, sweetheart.  I missed you too, but at least I kept up my end of the promise and didn't touch myself while I was gone, unlike some slut I know," he hissed.

 Suddenly, he wrapped his other hand around my neck and began applying pressure, pinning me down into the mattress.  His clothed knee spread my legs open and pressed against my sensitive clit, driving more shivers up my spine and triggering a moan from my throat that only came out as a weak whimper.  His face leaned down to mine to give me slow, gentle kisses.  "My slut," he whispered between kisses, squeezing my throat harder, "I can’t believe I’m in love with a stupid disobedient bitch."

 The insults only made my core light up with satisfaction.  I closed my eyes and relaxed into his touch, forgetting about all the consequences I knew he would lay out for me in a few moments.  I could tell he missed me just as much as I missed him with how gentle and loving his kisses were in contrast to his hand suffocating me.  We kissed as if this was our last time ever seeing each other, as if the world was going to end in one minute.  My heart thumped with excitement as the realization that he was finally back home began to settle in.

 He released my poor throat and instead ran his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp and deepening the kiss.  His lips began moving with a purpose, groans escaping and movements getting more and more desperate.  "[Y/N]," he muttered into my own lips, "I missed you so much, princess. You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this."

 He slowly separated his face from mine and nuzzled his head into my neck, biting and suckling my already bruised skin from all the other love marks he had given me last week as a memento before he left.  "I’m not going easy on you after this, sweetheart. Savor my mercy while it lasts."

 I grew restless after a few minutes of him licking and nibbling at my neck and started to grind my hips on his knee, wanting some kind of advancement in this hazy evening.  He took notice of this and paused his kisses, lifting his eyes to meet mine.  I pleaded for more action with a pout, to which he replied by removing his knee and instead tucking his thighs below mine with my legs pinned at his sides.  I let out a shaky exhale at the realization that his bulge was mere inches away from my holes.

 "What's the hurry, princess?" he leaned down to run his hands up my sides, dragging my loosely fitted shirt along with him.  "Is there something you're waiting for?"

 He pulled the shirt up enough to expose my anticipating breasts, perked with excitement at his chilled fingers.  I gasped at the bite of the cold air he was manifesting.  "Kaeya, please..."

 “Please what?" he traced a finger on the underside of my breasts and planted more kisses across my collarbone, "Use your words, baby.”

 "Stop teasing me, please," I begged with shame, "You know I want you...  I need you inside of me..."

 He hummed as if he were processing my answer.  Instead of using his own words, he responded by completely pulling the shirt off of me and twisting it into a long strip.  He grabbed both of my hands and pinned them above my head, purposefully pressing his bulge against my aching hole.  He hesitated to look down at me, his eyes becoming consumed with pure lust.

 "Final warning, [Y/N].  Do you want to do this now?" Any remaining gentleness seemed to slowly spill out of his voice as he made it apparent he was asking for my consent.  My core lit up once more knowing we were just getting started.

 I trembled with a mixture of excitement and fear, not knowing what he had under his sleeve tonight after the touch deprived days that broke our usually consistent sex streak.  We were two lovers in desperate need of pleasure.  "I need to be fucked senseless," my voice shakily begged, "I need to be covered in your cum by sunrise, sir."

 He raised his eyebrows at the vulgar language that spewed out of my mouth, knowing how uncharacteristic it was for me to beg before we've begun.  Judging by the evil smirk that formed on his face, those two simple sentences were enough to send him over the edge and into complete darkness.  An evil chuckle escaped his lips. The glint in his eyes that was once loving and sweet became borderline malicious within seconds.

 "Safeword?" he breathily muttered with a grin.

 "Diluc," I sarcastically sneered at him, knowing how much he hated when I used his brother's name as a safeword, even if it was just a joke.  His hand quickly struck me across the face, catching me by surprise.  The sting made my eyes swell with small tears.

 "Fucking brat, always messing around with me," he chuckled.  "But you know, I could always arrange something for the three of us–"

 "Kaeya!" I interrupted him and he laughed at my flustered face.  We had been joking about a threesome for quite some time now.  At least... I was joking about it. Maybe he seriously meant it.

 He guided his hands to make me sit up then pinned my arms behind my back. "It’s just a suggestion," he grinned at the thought while tying my wrists together with my own shirt.  "Oh, to see my little princess squirm with both her holes pounded crying with pleasure and pain...  That would be quite the sight indeed, don't you think?"

 “Please shut up,” I giggled, bucking my hips into his for an ounce of stimulation.  He tightened the fabric around my wrists and tugged at it a few times to make sure it stayed in place.  He gently laid me down again, enjoying the sight of my naked body fully exposed to him.

 "Now for the fun part," he smiled.

 He sat up to take his own shirt off and set it aside.  My eyes widened at the sight of his toned torso, my mouth practically drooling as my gaze traced his muscular abdomen.  His delectable skin glistened in the light of the fading sunset and I couldn't help but stare at his beautiful body.  To my dismay, my staring was interrupted by his shirt being placed over my eyes as he blindfolded me, pausing the fantasies in my head that came with that delicious sight.

 I felt Kaeya’s hands turn my vulnerable body so my chest pressed against the bed, my back arching to greet his face with my holes.  He snickered at the sight of me being drenched as a result of him teasing me for the past ten or so minutes with kisses and cold fingers.  All I could feel was his chilled breath tormenting my wetness and a hand caressing my inner thigh.  "Seems like you're so eager to be touched despite ruining yourself with your own fingers.”

 "Y-yes," I whimpered as one finger outlined my entrance, making me gasp.  "More..."

 He suddenly slapped my ass with his other hand, earning a yelp from my throat.  "I’ll think about it after I punish you, cunt.  Don't think I have forgotten about that."

 He got off the bed to stand up and pulled my body closer to the edge of the mattress.  "Now, count to fifty."

 I hesitated.  "Fifty? What do you mean–"

   "Do I seriously need to repeat myself for your dumb whore brain?" he responded slowly and sternly as if he were spelling it out for me.  "Count to fifty now before I leave you here and drink at the tavern tonight instead. You wouldn’t want to waste an opportunity to get fucked stupid by my fat cock tonight, would you?"

   I paused again thinking about why he'd want me to count in this situation before shyly starting.  "One–"

 SLAP!

 "Fuck!" I instinctively buried my face into the sheets as his hand stung my ass.  That hurt way more than it should.  That's why he wants me to count?

 "If I hear anything out of that mouth other than numbers I will not hesitate to leave you here.  No cursing, no gasping, no moaning.  Do you understand?  Now pull yourself together and count.  Start from one again."

 I quivered at the thought of him leaving me here after already being separated for a week.  I suppose the pain I’ll soon endure is my punishment, after all. So with no hesitation, I obeyed what he told me to do.

 "One..."

 SLAP!

 “T-two...!"

 SLAP!

 It hurt so bad and it had barely begun.  “Three..."

 SLAP!

 “Pick up the pace, my little painslut.  You can handle it."

 "Four..."

 SLAP!

 “Five..."

 SLAP!

 "You're doing so well, princess."

 Soon enough, we were nearing the end.  I truly underestimated Kaeya's strength with each smack.  Sometimes I forget that he's a Knight of Favonius, that he has a vision, and that he trains nearly every day to maintain his strength.  His blows were hellish now in comparison to the first few counts, which were extremely gentle in hindsight.  And he never hesitated with each slap, as if he wanted to do this to me for a long time.

 “Forty eight..."  I was a teary eyed mess at this point, trembling at the pain that stung like a million needles.

 SLAP!

 “Forty nine..." I whimpered, thinking about how i got myself into this situation, never being punished by him like this before.

 SLAP!

 “F-Fifty!"

SLAP!

 I sobbed at the aching pain while he simply chuckled.  He sat next to me and sighed contently.  "How do you feel, princess?"

 "P-please stop...  no more..." I muttered incoherently as the pain didn't seem to fizz away.

 "You have a safeword you know.  But it would be a shame to stop now when we’ve only just begun," he caressed my bruised skin with care, making me flinch instinctively.   I gulped.

 No.  I'm not going to stop here.

 "Tell me how you feel, my love.  Don't be shy."

 I paused, struggling to come up with the right words when all my brain could focus on was the excruciating soreness.  "I-it hurts s-so much..."

 "I know, baby.  But that's what you get for disobeying me.  You’ve learned your lesson, I hope?"

 "Yes, I-I've learned my lesson, sir," I breathily cried, "I w-won't ever do it again..."

 Suddenly I felt his thumb caress my wetness, eliciting a gasp from my throat.  "Oh?  But it seems like you actually really enjoyed that," he played with my aching folds as I stifled my moans, not sure if I was allowed to make noise.  "Well, princess...  that's not what a punishment is for, don't you think?"

 He pulled away his hand as he stood up which made me whine at the loss of touch.  I heard him undo his belt, but once it was off, I didn't hear him unzip his pants like I had hoped for.  Instead, I felt a leather strip gently trail down my thigh.

 "Your skin isn't that pretty shade of purple I was hoping for either.  In fact, if I had to take a guess, I would say it's red from pleasure instead of pain."

 "Wait, Kaeya!  No, please, it really does hurt...!" I weakly muttered as the realization settled in when he gently tapped my skin with the looped leather.

 "I don't think you realize how long I've waited for a moment like this, baby," his gravely whisper struck a genuine fear into my stomach, "A moment when you'd slip up so I'd have an excuse to make you quiver in pain.  You've been such a good girl for so long that I've never had a moment where I can make you beg for my forgiveness.  Which, as a matter of fact, there hasn't been a single moment so far where you've begged.  I assume you haven't actually learned your lesson yet."

 He brought his hand up to prepare for a blow.  "I'm going to brand you.  I'm going to make your skin raw until I feel tired.  And I can last all night and all day, baby.  You know that."

 He whipped the belt down to meet my thigh, creating a new kind of pain that made me cry out in desperation.  This was a new side of Kaeya that I have never seen before.  A new darkness had consumed him so suddenly that I sat on the fence of being terrified and being turned on at the same time.

 And this was still only the beginning.

 "Convince me to forgive you or bleed.  Your choice."

 He immediately whipped me at a quick, consistent rhythm, paying more attention to my thighs in addition to my already bruised ass.  At times the belt would land on my holes, which made me twitch with excitement and agony at the same time. This isn’t like him. Why is he doing this to me?

 "K-Kaeya, please stop!" I moaned out after a few hits, "P-please stop, I'm begging you!"

 “Try again, slut."

 More hits landed with sharp hisses sizzling off of my skin.  "K-Kaeya, I'm so sorry!  P-please forgive me–"

 “I don't even know what you're apologizing for," he interrupted with that damned teasing tone of his, "Could you remind me again?"

 The blows got stronger, more urgent and unforgiving, hitting any inch of exposed skin even if it was already raw.  "I-I'm so sorry for disobeying you...  I'm sorry for t-touching myself without your permission...!  P-please stop, I just want you inside of me–"

 He paused the hits to emphasize his words, which were muttered through gritted teeth. "I don't give a single fuck about what you want, whore. You’re just a toy for my amusement and somehow you still managed to fuck up."

 He quickly resumed the stings. "I'll be a g-good girl from now on!  P-please...  Please just forgive me!  K-Kaeya!" my voice slowly raised in volume in cries for the pain to stop.

 "Dumb whore.  It’s funny that you think I believe you."

 “Y-yes, I’m a dumb whore!" I scrambled for words and just copied his. There was no use in begging anymore. A part of me hoped I would be beat to unconsciousness under him just to relieve myself of this pain momentarily.

 He let out a groan and a low maniacal laughter, "Seeing your veins under my belt makes my cock twitch, princess.  I'm not sure if I want to stop, even if you kept asking me to."

 I couldn't take it anymore.  The pain hurt so bad but as fucked up as it was, I was still so unbelievably aroused by him.  The thought of him getting so aroused by me pulled out some kind of satisfaction within, despite the borderline torture I was experiencing. Maybe he was so comfortable with hitting me because he saw my body as just another criminal to interrogate and punish. Maybe he was releasing pent up frustration on me. Why is all of this so arousing?

 I felt my core light up as my thighs squeezed together.  For a moment, I forgot about the pain and a wave of pleasure washed over my body, sending twitches through the nerves in my legs. "K-Kaeya, actually p-please stop, I think I'm gonna c-cum...!"

 He disappointedly cursed under his breath and let me feel one last blow for good measure before letting go of his grip on the belt and tossing it onto the bed.  “Fine. That’s enough for now.”

 He climbed over my curled up body so his bulge pressed against my tied hands near my tailbone, my head trapped between his hands on the mattress.  He stayed hovering over me, slowly panting.

 "I don't have enough words to describe how much you're turning me on right now," Kaeya began to slowly whisper.  I could feel how hard he was by how he nestled himself into my tied hands.  "Your body shaking under mine, shaking in pain and pleasure...  And to think you were going to cum by my belt alone...  You really are a slut, [Y/N]."

 "K-Kaeya, I'm your slut...  and I need your cock in me now," I weakly interrupted him, "I n-need to be fucked...  right now, please, I'm begging you..."

 He stayed there for a moment, taking in the sight of my helplessness before standing up at the edge of the bed again.  He guided my shaking torso up to finally flip me on my back, pulling me closer so my head hung over the edge.  My lower half felt so relieved to finally make contact with the soft sheets, which were slightly damp from sweat and possibly my own wetness. I felt him wrap the belt around my neck, letting the loop gently tighten around my throat as he tugged.  I couldn't help but be reminded that he could kill me here if he really wanted to.  I was completely surrendered to him.

 I heard him finally take off his pants with the other leg, the scent of his sweaty skin tickling my nose.  I have never longed to get this stupid blindfold off and lay my eyes on his figure already. It had been so long since we’ve seen each other and now that he’s here I couldn’t even fully appreciate the sight of him. Nevertheless, I felt the shadow of his cock drape over my face and let out an exhale before he tugged the belt to catch my attention.

 “Don't make me tell you what to do."

 I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out eagerly which earned a chuckle from him.  He slowly pressed the tip of his cock into my awaiting throat, groaning loudly in the process.  he was surprisingly gentle about making sure I wouldn't choke immediately.  "F-fuck yes, [Y/N]...  taking all of it in like a good slut..."

 As soon as his long member hit the back of my throat, he tugged the belt tightly and groaned deeper.  My throat spasmed at the suffocating sensation which he responded to by pulling tighter.  I tried my best to relax.  "Behave," he reminded me.

 He began fucking my throat with no mercy, gradually quickening his pace but never pulling out or pausing to let me catch my breath.  He had trained my throat over the past few months for this, but the belt added a whole other level of difficulty and torment.  The muscles of my throat tightening around him more than usual made him breathlessly curse and praise me.  "Such a good slut...  My whore is doing so well taking my big cock...”

 He eventually let go of the belt to place both of his hands on either side of my face and fuck my mouth senselessly, ignoring my sputtering and cries for help at the suffocation.  It felt like I was drowning, but all I could think about was how good it felt to pleasure him, to hear his grunts and sighs of relief. His praises were consistent, a stark contrast to the way he degraded and pummeled me into the ground like a prisoner. Before I nearly passed out at the cut off oxygen, all his pent up frustration over the past week suddenly flooded my throat as his warm fluid was dumped into my mouth, deep groans and heavy breaths filling up the room.  His breath stuttered as I swallowed each pump of cum he fed me with hazy eyes, somehow enjoying this moment despite suffocating as he used his thumb to caress my face.  Kaeya placed a hand on the bed and pulled his hips away from my hanging head, leaning over my body and keeping only the tip of his cock inside my mouth.  I coughed and sputtered for a moment before pulling myself together to swirl my tongue over his tip, inciting a few twitches and extra drops of cum as a reward.  Tears and saliva painted my face, but at last, I finally caught a moment to breathe.

 "Keep licking and I might immediately cum again," Kaeya chuckled, cooling down from the heat of the moment.

 "I wouldn't complain," I playfully responded, letting out small coughs to clear my throat.

 "I suppose that's enough punishment for today," he gently lifted my head back up on the bed to provide better airflow.  He untied the blindfold off of my face so I could finally see him again.

 "Hi, handsome," I grinned, saliva dripping down my cheeks and into my hair. He ran his fingers through my hair and began massaging my scalp.

 "God... you are so inexplicably beautiful right now," he whispered desperately.  He began slowly stroking his cock in front of my face and deepened the massage, a proud yet cunning grin stretching across his face.  "But you'd look even more beautiful with my cum dripping out of your cunt, don’t you agree?"

 I moaned out his name and slowly lifted my knees up to my chest, teasingly using my hands to pull my thighs apart as an invitation. My eyes stayed locked with his. "Punishment's over, right?"

 He silently agreed, releasing his cock from his grip and taking another moment to catch his breath.  I watched him with pure lust in my eyes as he positioned himself at the crevice of the pillows in front of me then pulled my body forward to sit in his lap.  His sensitive cock twitched as the tip of his shaft kissed my dripping hole, aching to rearrange my insides.  He used one hand to pull himself down and shower my shoulder with bites and kisses, the other hand reaching down to massage my wet cunt, preparing for the night ahead.

 "My beautiful, stunning slut..." he growled into my ear between kisses, "I can't wait to see you completely destroyed by sunrise. You asked for it, after all."

[ah-ga-seven]

No More Pain | Jung Jaehyun

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x Fem!reader 

Synopsis: The lingering wounds of your miscarriage have reopened. Now that you are broken up, an unforseen change in Jaehyun’s life has brought him back to your doorstep. Will he be able to fix you this time? Or will he fail just the same as before?

Genre: Angst, One Shot. 

Warnings: mentions of the reader having a miscarriage, depression, alcohol addiction and heartbreak.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Probably one of the heaviest angsts I’ve written. I know the subject is rough but the idea came from a dream so I just had to write it down.

This was a different kind of pang to your heart.

You’ve had your fair share of tragedies, heartbreaks and disappointments, but this…

This feeling was nothing like anything you’ve ever felt before and quite frankly, you wouldn’t wish this upon your greatest enemy.  

It was a Thursday night, one like many where you decided to stay in and recharge from a busy day at your demanding job.

You were seated on your couch with a hot cup of tea as you mindlessly scrolled through your Instagram feed. Completely wrapped in the warmth of your favorite fleece blanket. But even the thick fluffy material couldn’t protect you from the cold shivers that ran down your spine.

You blankly stare at the post your best friend forwarded to you via dm and stiffened.  

Memories of the night you miscarried 4 months into your pregnancy flood back to you as you stare at his comment.

You remembered how broken he looked when the doctor couldn’t find the baby's heartbeat anymore.  

You remembered how he held you as you cried in his arms, promising that he’d love you just the same as he tried to console you to his best ability while suffering himself.

You remembered the pain and the relief of having Jaehyun by your side through it all. Glad that even though your life was about to change forever, he’d be the one constant thing you could rely on.

You remembered all of these moments like they happened yesterday, wishing future you could mentally prepare past you for what was going to be the hardest time in your life.  

The man who swore never to leave you did just that, and not even 6 months into his new relationship, your biggest insecurity was made into a reality.  

He had moved on for good, and even though you have no ill feelings towards him, you can’t help but feel anger over sadness right now.  

It was that easy to replace you. And that easy for him to find someone that could give him what you couldn’t.

Even though your miscarriage wasn’t the direct cause of why he left, the effects of the incidence on your mental health dragged him down with you. So both of you felt it’d be better to part ways for the sake of not wanting to hate or resent each other in the end.  

But God…you hated and resented him now more than ever.  

It didn’t matter to you that both of you started to date new people, because a part of you always held on to the fact that you’d somehow find your way back to each other, though the probability of that ever happening again turned to ash.

Your miscarriage broke you.  

No appetite for weeks, no motivation to get yourself out of bed and no cure for the monsters in your head who told you that Jaehyun was only sticking around out of pity for your broken state.

That same insecurity is what drove him into the arms of the women he told you not to worry about, and now they’re having a fucking child together.  

Knowing that that should’ve been you was a thought that was just too much to bear right now. You suddenly feel sick to your stomach, tears prickling your eyes as you rub the spot on your belly where the mini bump used to be 8 months ago.

You were finally doing better, thriving in your job and social life. Meeting new people and dating a few loose ends here and there, but you can already feel yourself spiraling back into old depressional habits as you stare at the picture once more.  

You pettily decide to like it, hoping it would spark interest from none other than your ex, and much to your surprise, it did.

Not even 20 minutes later your phone started to buzz on the counter as you poured yourself a glass of wine. You mindlessly retrieve it, expecting it to be your best friend but when you see his name as you take a sip you almost choke.

Is he serious?

You try to come up with what to say for the next 3 to 5 minutes but nothing in your head seems to translate your exact feelings to your fingertips.

You sigh in agony while leaning over on your kitchen counter with your phone still in your hands, reading his messages over and over again. You subconsciously start to bite your lip in deep thought, getting startled by your ringtone as your phone starts to ring in your grasp.

“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself, taking a big chug of the alcoholic beverage in front of you, putting on the bravest face and straightest posture to make yourself feel better before accepting the call.  

You knew you didn’t have to answer, but you were dying to hear what he had to say under these circumstances.  

“Y/N? Is that you?” His voice was unchanged. You didn’t know why, but you expected him to sound different, be different. Yet the same worry he’s always had for you was evident in his tone this time as well.

You clear your throat to avoid a voice crack and sigh. “Congratulations,” you tried to sound as genuine as you could, but you knew you sounded like shit.  

You start to play with the ends of your hair out of anxious anticipation, waiting for him to respond on the other end of the line.  

“I meant to tell you,” he starts. “I just…I didn’t know how and Chaeyoung suddenly uploaded the picture and-”

“Jae…please spare me the details,” you interrupt him. Saying his name like you used to felt like speaking a foreign language. He stayed quiet upon hearing your voice again and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Do you still live in the same apartment in Itaewon?” he suddenly asks, immediately alerting you to stand up straight because he could only be asking for one reason and one reason only.

“Y-yes.”

“Good, I’m on my way.”

Just like that, he hung up and just like that your heart rate starts to race uncontrollably.  

You down the remnants of your wine glass and hope he’s isn’t too close because your place looked far from neat. For the next 15 minutes, you run around, shoving things into random cabinets. Whether those items belonged there or not was the least of your concern and just as you fluff the last pillow on your couch, your doorbell rings.

You take a deep breath, calming your nerves as you walk up to your front door, taking it off the lock before you open it with a dramatic swing.

There he was. Jung Jaehyun.

As beautiful and put together as he always looked, no matter the circumstance. You forget how to breathe when you lay eyes on him and gulp. It’s actually him.

His big dark orbs widened as he laid eyes on you after months of not seeing you. His facial expression softened, slowly parting his lips to speak but you beat him to it when you broke out of your trance.  

“What are you doing here?” your shoulders fall as you look into his eyes for answers. The same eyes that once looked at you with so much love and adoration, but right now his pupils were stressfully darting back and forth, trying to read you like he used to be able to but he had no idea what you were feeling right now.

“Because I feel like shit y/n. Please let me in and let me explain,” he pleaded with a defeated tone.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “What is there to explain? You knocked up your girlfriend and finally got what you wanted. Why bother coming here? To rub it into my face?”  

Your plan of staying calm and collected went completely out the window just now and you could tell by the shock on his face that he did not expect you to be angry with him.

He took a step forward, backing you into your own hallway. His height towered over you when you stepped back and without looking back he closed the door behind him.

“Y/n. I would never purposely do that to you. Ever.” You ignore his statement, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I don’t remember inviting you in Jaehyun. Does she even know you’re here?”

You hold your ground, crossing your arms over your chest as you wait for him to counter your attack, but he simply shook his head. Knowing damn well that you’re acting tough just so you won’t get emotional.  

As he’s scanning the premises, his eyes linger on the red wine bottle on your kitchen counter and with a look of utter disbelief, he averts his attention back on you.

“You’re drinking again?” he asks with an almost condescending tone.  

“Did you come here to practice your parenting skills because no thanks Jae, please leave,” you bite back as coldly as you could, but he wasn’t having it.

“That shit almost killed you and you’re just casually drinking again?” He runs his hand through his locks out of pure frustration, not knowing what to do with the misplaced feeling of still caring for you just the same, while also knowing he has no business to tell you how to live your life.

The truth is, Jaehyun had no idea what he was doing here. Everything about the situation felt wrong and he couldn’t lie to himself any longer. Ever since Chaeyoung told him she was pregnant; he couldn’t be fully happy about it. He couldn’t commit to fatherhood knowing how much it broke your relationship. How much it broke the women he loved most to this day.

“A little red wine didn’t hurt anyone,” you mumble under your breath and that comment alone send Jaehyun’s emotions into overdrive, unable to hide his disappointment and worry for you any longer.

“IT HURT YOU Y/N. DAMN IT!” He raised his voice at you as he roughly grabbed your arm to make you look at him, which is the last thing you expected. He wasn’t mad at you. He was mad at himself. Mad at the fact that he wasn’t there when you needed him most and mad at the fact that this is what your lives had come to.

You might have previously dealt with your pain by drinking, and you might have mindlessly mixed your anti-depressants with your drink once, which…just might have earned you a trip to the hospital, but that was your lowest low and you made sure it’d never happen again.

You beat your demons by yourself when he had already moved on, so he had no place to waltz back into your life when he felt like it, just to judge you.

You’re absolutely fuming by now because of that same reason and much to your dismay you feel new tears well up in your eyes.  

“NO, YOU HURT ME!” you yell back at him as you smack his chest, the salty droplets streaming down your face as you kept hitting his chest to make him feel your pain. “YOU LEFT ME.”

Your knees got weak and you knew you looked absolutely pathetic as you crouched down in front of him. Shock took over his features as he got down on his own knees just as quickly, pulling you into the comfort of his arms. The warmth that you used to call home and the warmth that always seemed to calm you down engulfed you completely, a feeling your favorite fleece blanket from before could hardly imitate.  

He patted your head with assuring strokes, whispering sweet nothings to you as he held you on the floor of your apartment. Letting you sob the pain away in his black shirt. “Shhh, it’s okay…” he kissed the top of your head, caressing your cheek as he wiped away your tears.

You calmed down slowly, ignoring the suffocating ache in your head and heart while he made you feel safe and sound like he always did. You sat there like that for God knows how long, letting your minds go into overdrive as silence comforted the both of you.  

Ironically enough, this scenery was the exact same as the one in the hospital 8 months ago. You cried in his arms just like this when you had lost your child, but now you were crying because you had lost him. For good now.  

“I would never purposely plan to have a baby this quickly y/n, you have to believe me. Chae was on birth control but it just…happened,” he whispers, finally breaking the agonizing silence.

You stay quiet, closing your eyes to the sound of his low voice, letting his words register. “I was going to tell you. I was planning to ask you out for a coffee but as soon as she passed her first trimester, she was just so excited and made the announcement…it was just bad timing.”

“All of this is bad timing,” you mumble, which made him nod in agreement. He sighed into your hair as he continued to explain. “Y/n, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care for you anymore. I wish things were different, but they simply aren’t and I’m sorry.”

You sniff, dabbing your tears and your nose with the sleeves of your blouse before looking up at him through your lashes.

“You don’t have to apologize for moving on and being happy Jaehyun. It’s all I ever wanted for you.” You wipe the single tear that remained on the corner of his eye, not having realized that he shed a few tears himself too.

He leaned into your touch as he looked into your eyes before closing them, leaning his forehead onto yours while taking a deep breath.  

“I just want you to be ok.” He says suppressing a sob. “I can’t live this picture-perfect life knowing that you’re in pain y/n. It makes no sense; you deserve so much more it’s not fair.”  

Your lip starts to quiver as his words hit you, and you build up the courage to look at him again.  

He stared at you longingly and lovingly for the first time since forever and you knew a mistake was about to be made when he inched his face closer to you, but it was too late.

His lips made contact with yours and you completely gave in. Letting him lead you into a slow yet passionate kiss that took both of your breaths away.  Before things could get more heated, you realize what was happening and froze.

You take a hold of his wrists as you pull away, your eyes staring into his equally electrified ones as you recompose yourselves.

“I-I’m sorry,” he started. “I should’ve never confused you like that. Fuck. What the fuck am I doing.” He covers his mouth as he got up. Frustrated with his own behavior, he digs his fingernails into the palms of his hands to suppress the urge to swing at your door or any other object in sight for that matter.

You get up just as quickly as well. Straightening out your clothes before shaking off the nerves of what just happened.  

You take a deep breath followed by a shaky exhale as you opened your front door, turning around on your heels to look at an equally distressed Jaehyun.

He was about to speak; about to confess that he still loved you, but you stopped him by raising your hand, motioning for him to keep whatever he was about to say to himself.

Your eyes find his own and you take one last glance at the man that was supposed to be the pillar to your family. The man you used to call yours, and the man that you had hoped to still have a future with, despite everything.  

But you knew better.

You knew what was right and you knew what you had to do before things would start to spiral out of control again.

You stepped aside so he could pass by you, trying to avoid eye contact all while you could still feel his burning stare lingering on your fragile state.

You swallow harshly, licking your lips before you spoke as clearly and steadily as you could.

“For the sake of your family, please leave Jae…and never come back.”  

[falcqns]

he's gone for good.

pairing: sub!Bucky x Reader

summary: Bucky informs you about Steve leaving.

warnings: angst, sub!Bucky, crying Bucky, mentions of violence.

a/n: hope you enjoy!

when you opened the door, and was greeted with a crying Bucky, you had no idea what to do.

you may had known Bucky for many years, but he was never open emotionally with you. in front of you, at least.

you two had met when you were studying abroad in Bucharest, and ended up moving in right beside him. you knew who he was right away, and you also knew that he was most likely on the run from HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D., so you never revealed that you knew who he was.

a week into living there, you found out he had nightmares, but it wasn't until a month later that you found the perfect cure for them, home cooked food.

you were up late doing some research for a paper, when you heard the beginnings of a nightmare. you usually heard the terror and scream filled ends, not the beginnings, but you listened anyways.

he was calling out for someone. it took you a few seconds to decode what and who he was calling out for, but when you realized, your heart broke for him. he was calling out for his mom. his calls became louder and more desperate, before coming to a head with a shout, then sobs of heartbreak. it made you think of your mom, hundreds of miles away. it wasn't until you remembered that he was born in 1917, so his mom was definitely dead, that you moved from your bed.

you ran into the kitchen and pulled out all the ingredients for some chocolate chip cookies. eating homemade cookies always soothed all your pain when you were little, and you didn't want to think about the kind of food HYDRA fed him on a daily basis, if they fed him at all. you also knew he most likely wasn't eating properly here, as you’d see him come back everyday with plums, along with some type of street food that he found.

didn't matter what the street food was, he always had plums accompanying it. a quick google search told you that plums helped improve memory, so that was that question answered. an hour later, and the cookies were done, and loaded into a spare Tupperware that you had lying around, with a note on top letting hi know that if he ever needed to talk, you were there.

you placed it outside his door, knocked, and retreated to your unit just in time. thanks to an abandoned body mirror that sat opposite the wall that separated the two units, you got to see the smile that spread on his face when he saw the cookies and read the letter.

after that day, it became tradition.

every time he would have a nightmare, you would give him some type of food. whether it was chicken parm, French onion soup, cookies, cake, donuts, or even chicken nuggets and fries that you Uber Eat’d from McDonalds, you always made sure he was comforted.

it wasn't until a month before you were due to move back to your home country that you saw him face to face for the first time. you were bringing him some white chocolate macadamia nut cookies when he opened the door. he had a coat, hat, and leather gloves on, indicating he was going out.

he smiled and blushed, before speaking. “so you're the lovely lady that cooks for me,” he said, and you laughed before handing him the container with cookies.

“yes I am. I just made some more, actually.” you said with a smile as he took the box from you, and looked inside.

“well, thank you doll. these look absolutely delicious, I can't wait to try them.” he said with a smile and you felt your cheeks heat up.

he placed the box down on the table next to the door, and turned back to you.

“well, I'll let you get on with your day,” you said, as you turned to head back to your unit.

“actually,” he said, and you turned to face him. “I was just going to go on a walk since it was my day off today. do you maybe want to come with me?” he asked, and you felt butterflies form in your stomach as you nodded.

“sure! just let me grab my coat.” you said.

then, just like the cooking, the afternoon walk became tradition. you two would walk and talk about anything. whether it be work, school, or building drama, you always had something to talk about.

on a certain walk through a quiet little park, he confessed who he was, and was surprised when all you said was “I know.” he’d asked if you were afraid, and you said no. he’d asked if you were planning on turning him in, and you also said no.

you’d explained that it was obvious that HYDRA had control of him, and that everyone deserved a second chance. after your little speech, he’d kissed you, and asked you out on a date. you'd accepted, and started dating after your first date.

then, he was captured by S.H.I.E.L.D.. the two of you had been at the market together when he saw a newspaper saying that he had killed King T’Chaka with a bomb at the UN. he swore, and dragged you home. the two of you blew past your unit, and headed into his where you were faced with Steve Rogers. this didn't surprise you, he'd told you what he could remember about Steve, and you were expecting him to show up eventually, you just weren't expecting it to be so soon.

you could hear someone else, Sam, over Steve’s comm, and realized that there were police here, to capture Bucky. upon hearing this, Bucky shoved you out of the apartment, and down the hallway, with Steve following. he’d led you to a back entrance that you didn't even know was there, and told you tp leave the building until everything was over.

he gave you one last hug and kiss, and your first ‘I love you’, and he was gone.

you hadn't heard from him for 2 years, when you got a letter from him. according to the letter he had been seeking refuge in Wakanda, and had been freed of the Winter Soldier. he invited you to come and visit, and you did. you got to watch him tend to his goats (which he named after every avenger, even Tony) and interact with the Wakandan people, and the children. who knew a former brainwashed HYDRA assassin could be so sweet with young children? definitely not you.

then, just as you were preparing to leave and look for a farm where Bucky could continue to raise his goats and be with you, King T’Challa came to Bucky and gifted him a new arm, and informed him of a new fight. Bucky had begged you to leave, but you wouldn't have it. you had been working out and training since the day that you watched him and Steve fight against the police in Bucharest, wanting nothing more than to run in there and protect him.

so, you fought. it felt surreal to you to be fighting with the Avengers beside you, although there was no place you’d rather be. in that moment, as you were racing towards those “space dogs”, as Rocket had called them at one point, you didn't care if you lived or died, won or lost. you only cared about fighting beside the love of your life.

watching that same love of your life fade away to dust in a beautiful Wakandan forest broke you in two. you had just gotten him back, and you’d lost him again. you were trapped in your own head for days, wishing to dust away like him, just to be with him.

before you knew it, 5 years had passed, and you had joined the remaining Avengers. how you went from studying abroad in Bucharest, to being an Avenger, you had no idea, but you were grateful nonetheless. when Steve, Natasha, and Scott approached you with the possibility that you would be able to get Bucky back, you instantly accepted.

you joined Tony, Steve and Scott, and helped Steve in the fight against himself. when Tony failed to get the Tesseract the first time, you joined them on their journey into 1970, and was blown away. it wasn't exactly the time that Bucky and Steve were from, but it kind of felt like it in a way, and you instantly felt closer to Bucky, although Steve had to stop you from going to find Bucky, who was coincidentally only a few kilometres away at that point in time.

you fought with Steve and the rest of the Avengers against Thanos, and almost fainted from happiness when you saw your Bucky walk through the portal and run into your arms. you, once again, fought with the Avengers and Bucky to defeat Thanos once and for all.

then, Tony snapped his fingers, and your whole world changed. you didn't know it at that particular moment, but it did.

you attended Tony's funeral, and you and Bucky went home. a few days later, Bucky and Sam went to see Steve off to return the stones. you had no idea why, according to Bruce it would take about 5 seconds, but Bucky insisted that he needed to go, and said that he was sorry he couldn't join you on an afternoon walk, your first one with him in over seven years.

but, then he showed up at the door, tears streaming from his steel blue eyes, his cheeks puffy, and the smallest of sobs escaping from his rosy lips, and you knew something went wrong.

you pulled him into your apartment, and wrapped your arms around him. he nuzzled his face into your neck, and sobbed freely.

“what happened?” you asked. “did something happen to Steve?” at the mention of his best friend, Bucky sobbed harder, and your question was answered, albeit silently.

you pulled him into the bedroom, and stripped him from his clothes. you’d never dealt with a sobbing and heartbroken Bucky in person before, so you just went with what felt right.

you instructed him softly to go lay on the bed, and he nodded. you laid down on your side, and pulled him to lay on your chest. as your hands ran through his hair that was starting to curl slightly, you tried again.

“can you tell me what happened, honey?”

Bucky sniffled a few times and sat up. you did the same, and he fiddled with his metal fingers while he talked.

“y’know yesterday when Steve and I went out for lunch?” he asked, and you nodded. “well, he told me about your journey back to the 1970′s with him.”

you furrowed your brow in confusion, but nodded. “I-i guess he was dodging some workers or something because he hid in an office, an office that happened to belong to Peggy Carter. he said that he saw her through the glass, and that he realized that he could have the life with her that he’d always wanted, the Pym Particles safe in his pocket. he knew that he had to come back and bring everyone back, but then he was going to go back.” you didn't know what to think. that wasn't the Steve that you knew, the Steve that you had become family with over those horrible and painful five years.

“when he told me, I didn't really think he was going to do it.” Bucky said, his voice shaking. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he rested his head against your chest.

“even when I watched him disappear on the tunnel platform I didn't believe it. then, he showed up again.” he said, almost whispering.

“he was old. like grey hair, wrinkles, all of it.” he managed to get out in between sobs that were growing louder. “t-thats when it hit me. that he left me, for he-” he tried to say, before his sobs started full force again, and you pulled him to lay on you. he had his head on your chest, and his body in between your legs.

his cries continued, and you knew there was no stopping them. he was heartbroken, and he had to work through his feelings, not ignore them.

he swallowed, and continued to explain. “he left me for the girl he kissed once. which is great, he deserves to be happy, but I need him. I'm finally completely free, and I don't have my childhood best friend anymore.” he sobbed out, and you started to rock your body slowly to soothe him.

you wanted to cry too. cry about the friend that you’d never get to see again, but you couldn't, not yet. Bucky was hurting way more than you were, and you could push your pain down until Bucky was okay. you cuddled him closer to you, and spoke into his hair.

“its okay, baby boy.” you said, and he nuzzled deeper into you, the stress and sadness melting away from his body. it would return later, but it was gone for the time being. he sighed in contentedness, and his tears slowly stopped. you kissed his forehead, and felt him smile.

you ran your hands through his locks for the millionth time, and hummed a slow tune to him to soothe him further. you felt his breathing even out, ad light snores escape his mouth, and you smiled.

at least for a while, he was at peace, a peace he hadn't had in a while.

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Try

Warren Worthington III x Reader

Fandom: Marvel/X-Men

Summary: Warren has been through hell and then some, but will meeting his soulmate turn that around?

Note: That’s right, it’s ya girl, back on my BS. I watched Apocalypse again and BIG SURPRISE, I’m in love with Warren and Kurt all over again. Still hyperfixating on Pietro also, so…expect more fics for him as well. Anyway, I’m a ho for soulmate aus and I haven’t written one for birb boi in literal years, so here ya go.

Reader is: Gender Neutral

Warnings: swears, mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 2.8k

Warren knew one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt: he didn’t deserve a soulmate. He didn’t. There was no question in his mind. Anyone who was destined to end up with his winged, alcoholic ass had been fucked over by the universe. No one deserved to be stuck with him for the rest of their lives. And yet, these thoughts didn’t seem to erase the words written on his forearm:

Hey, um, you’re Warren, right? The Professor wanted me to talk to you.

Professor. He scoffed. He was never going to college. If his parents had gotten their way, their son “cured” of his wings, he would have ended up at Harvard or Yale or somewhere similar. But it was far too late for that. Sitting in a cage in the back room of an illegal underground mutant fighting club in Berlin…it was far too late for that. He’d probably die before he met his soulmate anyway, rendering the prophecy on his wrist—and theirs, for that matter—useless. A waste of space.

That was all he was anyway.

He spiraled. His dependence on vodka got worse. The fights got harder. He wasn’t making it out unscathed anymore, winding up with burns and scrapes and cuts, depending on what kind of mutant he was up against. One night, one of his cuts had gotten dangerously close to the writing on his wrist. He stared at it for a long time, tears burning his eyeballs until they escaped and dripped down his cheeks, angry and hot.

He hated it, but even after everything, he still had hope. He still had hope that things would get better; that he could be better, even if it seemed impossible.

And then it got…worse.

Apocalypse had come, turned his wings to metal, tuned into his anger, his rage at the world, turned him into a monster, complete with knives for feathers and winding tattoos framing his face. He wished he could blame it on mind control or something, but Apocalypse hadn’t brainwashed him, only used his anger against him. Turned him into a weapon.

And then everything went black.

When he woke up after the battle, he was in an unfamiliar room, large and white and sterile; it smelled like hand sanitizer. He heard the steady beeping of a heart monitor and when he sat up, he noticed how sore he was. His whole body hurt. His head spun. But he was alive. And when he looked down at his tattoo, the words were still there. Wherever his soulmate was, they were fine. His stupidity in joining Apocalypse hadn’t caused anything to happen to them.

For the first time in what felt like years, he breathed.

“You’re awake.” A voice said as a tall man with brown hair entered his room. “I’ll let the Professor know.”

“Where…” his deep voice rasped and the man pointed to a glass of water sitting on the table adjacent to the cot he was situated in. He picked it up and took a few long, greedy sips, not realizing just how thirsty he was until the cool drink hit his tongue. “Where am I? What is this place?”

“This is the infirmary at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.” The man told him, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “You’re safe here.”

Warren nodded hesitantly, but didn’t say anything else. Safe. The word was almost a myth to him at this point. But at least he felt like he could rest for a little while.

***

It had been a few weeks since Apocalypse and his horsemen had almost ended the world. Erik had decided to stick around, and two of the younger horsemen, Storm and “the Angel of Death,” respectively, had been absorbed into the school’s student body. You didn’t know the Angel’s name. No one really talked to him, not even Ororo, Storm, who had been quickly adopted by your friend group.

Supposedly, Peter had tried to talk to the Angel guy, but he didn’t say anything to him. Ororo theorized he probably felt guilty about the whole thing. She did. But you all knew she didn’t know what Apocalypse was really trying to do. He probably hadn’t either, but that didn’t seem to keep the grim expression off of his face.

It was on a nice, sunny day that Xavier called you into his office, and you went down without complaint, knocking on the door a few times before he called you inside. You sat in the chair across from his desk.

“Hi, Professor. What’s going on?” You asked.

“Ah, yes. Just the empath and healer I wanted to see.” He smiled brightly. “(Y/N), if you don’t mind it too terribly, I have a small job for you.”

���Of course! What do you need?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen our newest pupil, Warren, around.”

You thought for a moment. “The, uh, guy with the wings? The big metal ones?”

“Precisely.” He nodded. “Warren…he’s been having quite a hard time adjusting.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“He came to me yesterday discussing…well, quite simply, he was wondering if any of our mutants here would be capable of…reverting him to his previous state. His wings, before Apocalypse, were made of feathers. They’ve been serving as quite a reminder to him and it’s been weighing pretty heavily on him, both literally and emotionally.”

“Yeah, I’ve, uh, caught his vibes from across campus.” You nodded. “It’s like there’s always a rain cloud hanging over his head.”

“Yes,” Xavier agreed. “It doesn’t have to be right away, but at your nearest convenience, if you see him around, would you talk to him? Tell him I sent you?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll see what I can do.” You promised him.

As an empath and a healer, your first priority was helping others. And even if he was known to be a bit intimidating, you wanted to help him if you could.

So, you walked out of Xavier’s office, attended your final class of the day, and when it was over, you wandered out into the courtyard where, because of the nice weather, students were everywhere. And luckily for you, just as you suspected he might be, Warren was sitting under a tree, still sporting his leather jacket despite the warm weather.

You shielded your eyes from the sun and walked over towards him, your heart racing as you built up the courage to talk to him. So, you took a breath and said, “Hey, um, you’re Warren, right? The Professor wanted me to talk to you.”

He stared up at you for a long moment, his green eyes wide in shock. He took a breath, blinked a few times, glanced down at his wrist, and then back up at you. You could have sworn you saw tears beginning to form along his waterline, and you didn’t realize why until he said, “You’re my…No…Oh my God…I’m…I’m so sorry.”

You froze, your knees going weak. You glanced down at your bare forearm and read over the words he’d just said, exactly the way he’d just said them.

You’re my…No…Oh my God…I’m…I’m so sorry.

“Why are you sorry?” You whispered, lowering yourself onto the grass beside him, not trusting your legs to support your weight for much longer. Now you were the one with tears in your eyes. “Don’t be sorry.”

“You deserve so much more than me.” He insisted, his eyes locked on his boots, unwilling and unable to meet your gaze. “I can’t drag you into…this. Me.”

His emotions were heavy, a bleak blue and gray haze and you felt it radiate off of him in waves. His pain, his everything. And you felt it, deep within his chest. He thought you wouldn’t want him anyway.

“Warren…” You shook your head. “Why…Why would you think I don’t want you?”

He was shocked into silence for a few seconds, thinking over his words carefully, his jaw tense and hands shaking. “You’re a telepath?”

“Empath.” You corrected quietly. “And…a healer. Which is why Xavier sent me.”

“Oh. Right.” He swallowed thickly, nodding. “Did he…tell you why?”

“He did.” You smiled softly. “And I’m willing to try if you are.”

Finally, his eyes met yours and he could tell that you meant more than just the healing when you said it. The weak little voice in the back of his head was screaming for him to push you away like he pushed away everyone else, but looking into your eyes, a genuine and warm smile on your face, he just…couldn’t lose you.

He couldn’t lose anyone else.

***

Today was the day. Warren was sitting on a stool in the infirmary. Hank had run his vitals and the two of them were in the room waiting for you to come down after your class was over.

“(Y/N) is the one who saved you, you know.” Hank told Warren while he jotted down some notes.

“What?” Warren asked, snapping out of whatever daydream he had been caught up in. “What do you mean?”

“(Y/N) found you in the rubble. We didn’t think you would make it, but…they healed you. They insisted we bring you back here. Give you a chance.”

Warren was quiet for a long time, thinking about what that meant. Part of him wondered if (Y/N) had known back then that he was their soulmate, but he decided that would have been impossible with just their tattoos alone. Especially without context. They hadn’t known and yet, they’d still wanted the best for him.

“Didn’t know that.” Warren said, his voice soft and deep. He stared at the words on his wrist for a little longer, a hint of warmth swirling around in his stomach. Was this happiness? Was that what happiness felt like? He barely remembered anymore. But he knew there must have been a reason that when you walked through the door, his heart started beating a little bit faster.

“Sorry I’m so late. Professor Leaf kept us a little later than she was supposed to. Are you ready?” You asked taking off your backpack and setting it against the wall. As soon as you looked up at Warren, you felt the way his heart rate was increased and you didn’t miss the warmth swirled with the anxiousness. The anxiousness, you had expected. Even you didn’t know if you could pull off what you were going to attempt to do, but the warmth…it was a pleasant surprise.

“Don’t worry about it.” He told you, shaking his head. Was he…was he smiling? It was a small smile, sure, but you didn’t think you had ever seen him smile before. It looked good on him. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Alright.” You nodded, walking over towards him. Underneath where he was situated on a stool, Hank had laid out some pads from the training room, you assumed, to catch his metal feathers if they fell out rather than transforming back to his normal…feather feathers. None of you really knew how this would unfold. “Again, I’m not sure this will work. I don’t want to get your hopes up in case it doesn’t.”

“I’m not expecting it to.” Warren assured you, but it wasn’t in a rude way. “If it does, I’ll be pleasantly surprised. Cross my heart.” What he didn’t say was: You could never disappoint me. Not even if you tried.

“Okay.” You nodded, taking a few steps closer until you were standing right in front of him. He looked up at you and for the first time, you didn’t feel any negative emotions from him. Only anticipation and that lingering warmth. “Here goes nothing.”

You focused on the warmth in your own chest, the tingling yellow healing power that constantly swirled around your heart, and you forced it into your palms. You reached forward for his hands and he took the hint, his larger hands wrapping around yours.

Immediately, he gasped at the sensation, warm tingles running up his arms, down his spine. It stopped in the center of his back, right where his wings intersected with his body. At first, he didn’t feel anything. And then, he felt everything. The pleasant warmth flooded his metal wings, and one by one, the knife-like feathers fell out, each one landing with a thud against the mat situated underneath him.

Hank’s pencil jotted against his notebook as he took notes. He knew you were powerful, but he’d had no idea you were capable of something like this.

Neither had you.

Once the metal wings were gone, Warren felt a new sensation: another pair of wings, this one soft and familiar, slowly emerging from him. Part of him expected the process to be painful, like the one Apocalypse had forced upon him was, but it wasn’t. Warren chuckled to himself. Of course you would never hurt him. Not even unintentionally.

After a few minutes, the feathery wings had fully emerged, stretched out to his full former wingspan and he stared up at you in awe. You stopped your flow of power to him, but he held onto your hands, squeezing them to keep them in his grasp.

He looked back at his new wings, flexed them and moved them. They felt familiar, like they had always belonged to him.

“Thank you.” He said, giving your hands another squeeze, the warmth in his chest brighter and bolder than it had been before. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course.” You told him, squeezing his hands right back in a way that caused his heart to lurch. “I’m glad I could help.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but do you mind if I keep some of these for research?” Hank asked.

“Keep all of them, if you want. I don’t want them.” Warren told him, standing up from his stool, his hands still in yours. “So, um…do you want to go grab dinner or something?”

“Sure.” You nodded, smiling up at him. “See you later, Hank.”

“Bye, guys, have a nice night.” Hank said as you and Warren walked out of his lab. He couldn’t help but notice the way one of your hands remained in one of his as the two of you left.

***

Later that night, after dinner and after you and Warren had split for the evening, you were walking back to your room from Jean and Jubilee’s and you found Warren, lingering in his doorway, his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. His eyes widened when he spotted you and he held up a finger, indicating you should wait for him, so you did while he went into his bathroom and rinsed out his mouth, returning a few moments later.

“Hey.” He said, the word casual as it fell from his pink lips.

“Hey yourself.” You chuckled, feeling ridiculously underdressed in your pajamas. But then again, he was wearing his pajamas, too, a large black Metallica shirt and a pair of plaid pants.

“How…how are you? Feeling?” He stumbled over his words, chuckling as he rubbed the back of his neck. You felt a wave of nervousness rush through him. “Hank said sometimes you get tired after, uh, bigger healing jobs?”

“I’m fine.” You nodded. “For whatever reason, I never get tired when I’m healing you.” You chuckled, your cheeks heating up the slightest bit. “Well…I think I know why…”

“Heh, yeah.” He nodded, mulling over his next words very carefully. “Did you, um…I don’t know how to ask this. Did you mean what you said about…trying? About us trying…this. Trying us.”

“Of course I did.” You nodded and took a few steps closer to him. “You’re my soulmate.” You reached for his hand and he gave it to you, letting you play with his fingers. You felt the way his heart fluttered when you did. “Of course I want to try.”

“I’m broken.” He told you. “I’ve never done this before. I’m…I’m a lot, and I know that.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m a healer, huh?” You tilted your head. “And if we’re being honest, I’ve never done this before either. So how about we teach each other? Learn together?”

He smiled softly, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do that.”

You let go of his hand and instead took the last few steps between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his torso. He froze for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. It had been…a long time since anyone had hugged him. But after a few moments, his arms got the hint and wrapped around you, pulling you to his chest. He rested his head atop yours and exhaled a long, long breath. And for the first time since you’d met him, you felt a wave of peace wash over him, encasing him entirely as his wings gently cocooned you in their warmth.

You felt his lips brush against your temple, pressing a soft kiss there. You looked up at him and his eyes met yours before fluttering shut as he leaned in to press his lips to yours.