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chuluoyi · 3 months

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✎ wedding anniversary

- gojo satoru x reader

seven years of dating, two years of wedded bliss, and gojo is having his greatest existential crisis yet... all because this year, you apparently have forgotten the most important day of your lives

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—heavy smut, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, slight breeding kink, crack, drunk, lovesick and possessive gojo (nanami is so very done with him), also fluff !!

note: back to chu's thirsting hour :') based on a fellow gojo fucker's very helpful brainrot (chiyo if you see this, hii!😗) pls give it some love bc this has gone through not showing up in the tags 5x already *sobs*

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

To this day, it was still beyond Nanami why you, his very sensible former classmate, would have Gojo Satoru as your husband.

“She... doesn't—hic!—care about m-me... anymore!”

But well, to each their own.

“Gojo—”

“Today is our—hic!—anniversary!”

This is exhausting. It had been 30 minutes ever since the blindfolded shithead started rambling his sorrows. “She is probably just busy, you don't have to—”

“I r-really thought—hic!—she would at least n-not forget it l-like that!”

“Please, stop this nonse—”

Satoru snapped his head so swiftly that Nanami was startled, pointing out an accusatory finger at his face. “You stop!—you don't understand, Nanami!”

The said man flinched, taken aback, before feeling the surge of irritation coursing through his veins.

Sure, Nanami would gladly admit that he didn't understand. He neither had the time nor energy to. It was beyond him that he was even entertaining this blubbering idiot at this time of the day, in a bar no less. How did he get roped into this in the first place?

Actually, he had minus interest in your marital affairs, but Gojo was latching onto him all day, rambling about how excited he was for this day for weeks now, until you gave him a call, saying you would be home late and disregarded his very open anticipation. You broke his heart to pieces, apparently.

Amidst his heartbroken musings, Gojo followed him to his frequented bar, where he proceeded to down multiple glasses without any supervision.

“Am I really t-that lousy? Can’t be it… I’m s-strong, d-dashing… rich—”

Nanami released a guttural sigh, messaging his temples. How could this idiot have no shame while spouting all of this?

“Will s-she… divorce me next…?” he abruptly blurted, eyes widening as saucers and full of clarity all of a sudden. Satoru firmly tugged at his suit and forced him to face him. “Nanamin…! S-she won’t divorce me, r-right?!”

Oh, to hell with it. Nanami couldn’t take this anymore. He was done and he had no patience to tolerate it any longer.

He shrugged him off, and pulled out his phone to dial your number. “Hello? Please, come pick your husband. He’s a public nuisance!”

In fact, you didn’t forget your anniversary.

How could you? Satoru made it his point to drop hints about it almost every day, and you actually struggled to be indifferent about it because you also had things planned out.

A present—already taken care of thanks to your mail order of Rolex’s newest collection watch, and a treat—a two-tier mochi cake he had been staring at with literal stars in his eyes on your last date.

Which has become the problem. The bakery had mishandled your delivery and you had to wait for them to remake it. It was 8pm already and you couldn't help but worry. Satoru must be feeling utterly despondent by now, thinking you had forgotten a day that meant so much for both of you.

And so when you got a call from Nanami, you dropped everything to get him and told the bakery to arrange for the delivery tomorrow, because you knew... nothing good ever came out of Satoru getting drunk.

"I missed youuuu~! Dearest, darling— my universe!"

To Satoru, the everything around him was a blur of lights and hiccups when you came to retrieve him. Nanami was so eager to wash his hands off him, leaving you with a pointed grimace as if pitying you.

. . .

"A-are you going to—hic!—leave m-me?" Satoru slurred for the nth time now, stumbling inside your house with you propping him.

"For the last time, no, but I'm tempted to," you hissed, throwing him a glare. Your husband was a very unpleasant drunk because he wasn't even a drinker in the first place. "Satoru—walk properly!"

You managed to get him into your bedroom, where Satoru flopped onto the bed, dissolving into groans. You exhaled deeply and plucked the buttons of his shirt open, trying to get him change into his sleepwear.

"Ah... haaah," suddenly he caught your hand and placed it on his bare chest, his eyes blazing into yours, rambling, "Sweetheart—please. I c-can't live without you now... I'm sorry—I'm sorry for anything, or everything, I don't even know but—please don't hate me—"

"Satoru..." Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. Why was he this spooked? "I'm not leaving you, okay?"

"I promise you, I'll do better—" his voice was watery, as if his throat was clogged up. "I'll be better..." His voice then reduced into a whisper. The alcohol had stripped away his facade, leaving his raw emotions exposed.

Something inside you lurched. Throughout the nine years you have been with him, Gojo Satoru was always irritatingly self-assured, and so seeing him like this— so openly fragile, it did more than just churn your insides; it made you realize the depth of his feelings.

In that moment, you knew your reassurance meant everything.

"I'm not going anywhere, yeah?" you placed your other hand over his, offering him a genuine, soft smile. “Satoru, I’ve put up with your ass for more than nine years. So…” you shifted your eyes away, suddenly feeling embarrassed, before looking at him again. “I'm here... for you, always.”

His grip on your hand loosened slightly, but the intensity in his gaze didn't wane, and you would've laughed when he hiccupped next if you weren't feeling the overwhelming warmth in your chest.

But oh you wouldn't have expected it, because one heartbeat later, he yanked you down to the bed— crashing his lips against yours.

“Mmmph!”

He tangled his nimble fingers on your hair, and his other hand slipped inside your blouse, unclasping your bra in one flick. You let out a gasp, "Satoru—! "

Before you could even gasp, in the next second, he flipped you over— seizing your puffy lips once more. His hands now moved with more urgency, squeezing your breasts rather roughly, flicking your nipples with the pads on his thumbs.

And soon, far sooner than you thought...

"Who else gets to see you like this?" Satoru inquired darkly after you were naked under him, his voice low and deep. He was no longer that stupid husband of yours, rather the wanton man of your nightly wonders.

Without warning, he slid one of his fingers into your folds, probing your walls, and a gasp escaped you as you arched your back, throwing your head back on the sheets.

"No— one," your voice came in a breathless moan, still reeling. "H-how can y-you ask me—" Stretching you out even further, he entered another finger and you wailed, "Mmgh!"

He had always loved the sounds you made and how you were so pretty squirming under him like this. And before you knew it, his face was inches from your cunt, blowing hot air into your sensitive flesh.

"Tell me, who is the only person who gets to see you like this?"

Your eyes rolled back, words died on your tongue as his skilled tongue ran down on your drenched pussy. You instinctively tried to close your legs around his head, but he firmly held them apart.

"You." Panting, your mind racing to form coherent thoughts. You managed to mutter, "Only you... No one else—hah—just y-you...!"

He suckled on your clit hungrily then, rewarding you for your honesty. Squelching noises echoed around your marital bed as your arousal pooled around his fingers— you being so incredibly, irrevocably close to your release.

"Haaah, ngh—mmph!—Satoru, I'm a-about to—!" but then, in one cruel twist, he withdrew his digits, and your pussy throbbed at the loss.

You muffled your whines, feeling betrayed and irritable. "What—why—!?"

"Don't think that I'll let you cum anywhere else but my cock," he stated gallantly with an unusually stern expression, blue eyes narrowing as he assessed your wetness. Right in front of your eyes, his cock sprung after he let it out of his pants.

"Soon, you'll feel me..." Your eyes shamelessly followed his long length as he placed it on your lower belly. "...there."

Everything about him using that taunting tone turned you on, and true to his words, he soon slid himself inside you. He let out a low grunt at the feeling of how your walls clenching around him and you whined, the pain of being stretched making you almost sob.

"Shit, hold still," Satoru groaned, pushing down on your belly. "You're so tight— relax for me a bit, sweetheart? You're doing so, so fucking well."

His words went through you, and you could feel yourself opening more to ease his intrusion. Next thing you knew, he was buried deep inside you, and his gaze met you once again.

"Are you okay?" he asked between breaths, voice softening. When you nodded in response, he planted a kiss on your chest.

"I love you," he said in a rasp, eyes piercing your soul. "I’ll give you anything. My body, heart, soul—you can have it all. In return, you just have to promise one thing." His eyes, now clearer, deprived of the earlier haze, boring straight into you like an arrow.

"Don't ever leave me."

"I won't," you replied resolutely, catching your breath. Your own eyes shone with your love for him, making it even. "For as long as I live, it's going to always be you."

Satoru gazed at you as if you were his skies and stars, and before he started pounding into you, he vowed—

"Then I'm yours."

And soon, you were a nothing more than a frenzy, hot mess. You couldn’t help the nasty moans flying out of your lips as he kept barreling into you. His grunts reverberated throughout the room, rutting you through your hazed mind.

And the way he was whispering provocations into your ear, pushing you further into ecstasy at the mere thought of—

"What if... I get you pregnant this time?" A thrust. "Just imagine—" Another. "My wife, all round—" Another. "—just because I—am doing this to her—!"

You were barely registering his rambles at this point. Your walls clenching around his girth impossibly tight and you let him claim you as his thoroughly, your legs locking around his waist.

"Ah—ngh, mmrgh! Satoru—more!"

This wasn't you, the usual you wouldn't be this daring— but even you'll be more than forgiven tonight.

Satoru's jaw tightened at the sheer pleasure you brought him, his ego stroked, and his heavenly eyes darkened as you begged and dug your nails into him. He was so close, he could feel it. Your moans was enough to lead him to cum right here and there.

But before that, he was determined to show you, to whom you truly belong.

“My wife.” He growled. A thrust.

“Mine.” You gasped. Harder.

“All mine.” Deeper.

"Yes," you cried. "Yours— all yours, so please—!"

And three deep thrusts later, Satoru finally busted his load inside you, spurts after spurts painting your wall white— filling you up so hard it was spilling out. And your orgasm followed in immediate effect along with your hitched screams of pleasure, before the two of you collapsed on each other, a mix of groans and sweat, entwined in cum, bliss and exhaustion.

"Love you, sweetheart," you heard him murmuring in your ears, enveloping you in a warm embrace as you drifted into sleep.

Next morning, you were awoken to soft hums in your ears.

"Oh, the sleeping beauty awakens." The first sight you saw was Satoru's cheeky grin, and him pecking you on the lips. "How are you?"

"Mmm..." you winced, feeling the slight twinge between your legs. He noticed it and gently untangled himself from you, fingers tracing your waist. "Don't move around too much, you're going to bother my little swimmers, you know."

It took you a few seconds to realize what he meant and you glared at him. "You horny weirdo. I just woke up."

“Heh heh heh~ Don't take it too seriously! I was just trying to get you to smile.” He pinched your cheeks and then mused, “Well, I'd actually be surprised if we made it last night...”

"You're not funny," you retorted. You had been feeling weird and that was when you saw it.

The dazzling, massive diamond ring. On your finger. Wait, is that Graff's Tribal Collection?

"Satoru..." you mumbled, lifting your hand in shock, your eyes fixed on the piece that likely cost more than your monthly wage. "You..."

"Do you like it?" his smile was so easy and light, adoring the sight of you. You were so adorable, marveling at the little gift he got you.

"What do you mean—" you stuttered, turning to him. "Are you crazy?! I can't wear something this expensive—!"

"But that's exactly my point. It's a gift, meant to spoil my wife."

"You are mad," warmth flooded your cheeks, your heart fluttering with joy. You were unbelievably giddy because your husband really knew the way to your heart, yet you'd be damned if you let the excitement show in front of him.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression souring, and with a mocking tone, he accused you, "Actually, you're the one who's gone mad. I can't believe you forgot our anniversary!"

"I didn't, you dummy. I was out picking up your favorite mochi cake before you got yourself wasted." You turned away from him, shyly. "And I got a gift for you too."

"Oh? Oooh! Really!? What is it?!"

He was back to his silly self again, and you could only shake your head, wondering how the sex god from last night and this fool was the same person.

Yet, you felt nothing but love. Your heart couldn't help but melt for him when you saw that carefree grin.

And you couldn't be more grateful to the stars for bringing him into your life.

. . .

Oh, and little did you know that his little swimmers also made the goal last night— as three weeks later, you found yourself clutching the first of your pregnancy tests, which was showing a positive.

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edenfenixblogs · 1 month

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2 am rant cuz I can’t sleep:

I’ve stated repeatedly that I’m pro-Palestine and pro-peace, so I obviously want a two sided, negotiated ceasefire and permanent peace for all. I’ve repeatedly stated that I do not condone the degree of heavy bombing taking place in Gaza.

But it’s currently 2:15 in the morning and I am haunted. I’m haunted by the fact that the world saw the brutal attack on Jews and celebrated. I’m haunted by the number of high l-profile celebrities who felt moved to speak out for Palestine — wearing flags and pins and signing demands for Israel to stop bombing, but who said nothing about the dead and tortured and kidnapped Jews.

Yes, what is happening in Palestine is and continues to be a tragedy.

But apparently what happened and is happening to Jews worldwide and Israelis of all religions simply isn’t. At least not enough of one. Not enough of one to move these high-profile folks to speak out for us. Not enough of a tragedy to say the names of the hostages, including one forced to give birth while kidnapped by terrorists. Not enough of a tragedy to condemn the violence happening against Jews. Not enough to speak out on behalf of a 20-year-old singer made to fear for her life because she dared to be from Israel and sing about her own trauma instead of, idk, bursting into flame or shutting up or whatever the mob wanted her to do.

No. What happens to us isn’t a tragedy. It’s a nuisance. It’s a nuisance to have to care about Jews. It gets in the way of everyone else feeling good about their “radical activism” and self-aggrandizing bravery. People of all levels and types of fame. All of whom say they only want peace and an end to pain. Yet when they mention pain, it’s always and only the Palestinian flag. When they want a ceasefire, it’s always an only in reference to Palestine. But they wouldn’t be caught dead asking for an end to Hamas or Hezbollah bombs or even acknowledging that they exist. All calls for peace involve asking Israel to lay down arms but no call for anyone attack Israel, Israelis, or Jews worldwide to do the same.

From large creators to small creators to people in day to day life, non-Jews around the world have made clear that it would be more convenient for them if we Jews just died. If we stopped ever defending ourselves or speaking up or being sad in public.

The vast majority of people speaking out would or will view this post as a justification of violence. But it’s not. It’s a condemnation of complicity from people who claim to care about peace. It is a condemnation of those who claim to be against antisemitism yet refuse to listen when Jews point out how they are contributing to and spreading more antisemitism. People and institutions worldwide have failed Jews everywhere.

Cats Blanchett

Mark Ruffalo

Billie Eilish

Viola Davis

Lena Heady

Susan Sarandon

Ava DuVernay

Hozier

Sara Ramirez

Annie Lennox

Cynthia Nixon

Angelina Jolie

Multiple UN groups and resolutions

College students and professors across the world

Friends I’ve had for 8 years who don’t even respond to messages that I have moved out of state or even spoken to me in at least five months

So many people who are so eager to read every bit of pro-Palestine news that exists and condemn every action from Israel.

And yet…

Before the bombings. Before the reprisals. Before all the violence from Israel: where were they? All these people who so desperately beg for peace (as defined by the end of Israeli aggression only): where were they when it was just dead Jews? Where were the Instagram posts and educational content and in depth analyses of Israeli trauma and history? Where were the condemnations of Hamas? Where were those who are moved to speak for anyone and everyone but Jews?

Are we really supposed to believe any of you actually want peace? When you chant for the globalization of terror tactics that traumatized a generation of Israeli Jews? When you fail to acknowledge Jewish history in any way except to minimize it?

Before the bombing campaign, where were the red carpet statement pins and gowns featuring Jewish stars?

How are we Jews anywhere in the world literally ever supposed to believe that you’re not actively cheering for our deaths? Maybe not in front of our faces, but certainly behind our backs. We know. We know you’re afraid to be less than tactful in front of us, but that you describe our rapes and murders and social exclusion and kidnappings as “unfortunate but necessary.”

I’m reminded of when Israel was first created. At a time where every Jew on earth was traumatized directly because the Holocaust firsthand, Britain left the territory of mandatory Palestine and the UN allowed for the creation of a Jewish state. And then proceeded to heckle the traumatized survivors for handling its creation poorly. The Nakba is a tragedy and an outrage and I’ll never deny that.

But…y’all are no different from the people who stood on the sidelines as Israel was first created. Why was it up to an actively traumatized people who had very recently (and after a continuous 2,000 year period of expulsions and pogroms and murders) been slaughtered on an industrial scale to somehow create a perfect and stable government in a land where people despised them?

The world needs to own up to the fact that everything that ever went wrong in Israel’s creation is a direct result of the continuous and still ongoing contempt for Jews by all the other countries that could have stepped in to help and provide Jews with a guarantee of safety at any time in the last 2,000 years in general but also since 1934 specifically. And you didn’t. Your great grandparents and grandparents and parents all didn’t do jack shit. And you are following in their footsteps. You are all doing just as they did: standing on the sidelines and heckling the Jews you don’t like for fighting back too aggressively.

But what exactly have you or anyone else done to help Jews in your communities or in Israel to not feel like caged animals forced to fight for survival? Like wild beasts you let loose for slaughter in a coliseum for your own enjoyment? At what point have you worked to provide Jews with other options? How have you made the Jews in your life feel safe or seen during this time? How have you started to deconstruct the harmful anti-Jewish bias you inherited from the people you love?

Is it ok that Netanyahu and the Likud government is bombing Palestine to the extent it is currently doing? Of course not. And I’ll never say otherwise.

But aside from yelling “hey stop it!” at Israel or “you’re complicit!” at Jews who fail to join your chanting, what exactly have you done at any point since this started to make the world safer for any of us?

Because from what I can see, the vast majority of you have done nothing. And every Jew I’ve spoken to in the last half a year has seen the exact same nothing.

Too many of you are too concerned with being on the right side of history. Most of you aren’t famous actors or musicians or whatever. Most of you are just people. History won’t remember you individually. Who knows what history will say about the movements of which you were a part? My guess is that you’ll be called passionate and outraged and sympathetic, but ultimately disorganized and misguided.

But you know who will remember you? Every Jew you’ve encountered since 10/7. We will remember each individual we saw who celebrated our death or ghosted us or made us feel unwelcome in our own lives.

We will remember you forever. And not fondly.

#i/p #i/p conflict #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #choose peace #a ceasefire must involve both sides ceasing to fire #and yeah #I still upset about drawfee tbh #I’m so patient and calm all the time #but I just want everyone to know that this is a choice I am actively making #because all I want to do is scream #Israel #Palestine #grief

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lavandulawrites · 18 days

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Sumeru’s Damsel In Distress

Yandere Alhaitham, yandere Cyno, yandere Kaveh, yandere Tighnari x female reader (not separate)

There will most likely be a part two.

I was wishing for Sethos and managed to get c3 Alhaitham (he was c0). When I played Cyno’s story quest earlier today I got the idea for this fic.

Synopsis: You are invited to Alhaitham and Kaveh’s house among with your two friends, to taste their new tea.

Masterlist

Warnings: drugging, imprisonment

Word count: 1974

Kaveh had been stirring the tea for 5 minutes straight. The cup was in a beautiful dark green design with little flowers. The tea spoon was engraved with flower details and must have cost a small fortune. You were sitting on the divan to the left of Kaveh. He had prepared some tea for the five of you and brought it out in the little salon in his and Alhaitham’s house. The tea set was beautiful and luxurious, a good fit for Kaveh’s exquisite tastes. Tighnari and Cyno was sitting opposite of you and Alhaitham to your left.

The window behind you were open and the curtains fluttered in the warm summer wind. The flowers on the windowsill colourful and clearly thriving in the heat. The garden behind the house well attended and beautiful.

You fiddled with your bracelet. Your gaze flickered up and your eyes met orange ones. The general mahamattra’s eyes were watchful. His white brows furrowed slightly.

Tighnari eyed Kaveh’s stirring intensely.

The blond smiled. “I saw your new book in the bookstore today. I must say the design you chose is absolutely stunning” his voice eager. “I started reading it, but unfortunately I haven’t had the time to finish it yet” he laughed sheepishly. The spoon in his hand still stirring in an almost robotic manner.

The dark haired fox stilled Kaveh’s hand and muttered something between his sharp teeth. The architect nodded slightly and stilled his movement.

“Your novel is definitely one of the best I have read. Your sight on humanity and morals are really interesting as well as your storytelling. I am impressed” Alhaitham drew your attention away from the forest ranger and the architect. His lips twisted up into a small smile.

Kaveh sat your teacup in front off you and smiled. “The instructions on the package said to stir it good, so sorry for the wait” he laughed awkwardly.

“It’s okay” you shook your head.

Kaveh poured the steaming hot tea into four cups for each of the men. He stirred them, but not as long as he had with yours. When you were about to open your mouth, Tighnari chimed in “When you stir it extra long, the taste is milder. We know how you prefer your tea mild”.

You picked up the teacup. It was hot, but not too hot. The aroma slightly sweet. You caught your reflection in the dark surface. A sudden bad feeling crept through your veins and your hand stilled.

Noticing your hesitation, Alhaitham spoke up. “Are you alright?” his voice concerned.

“Yeah, I just got lost in thought…” you smiled slightly. With a slightly trembling hand you brought the cup to your lips. You didn’t know why you had such a bad feeling. You wanted to brush it off, but something told you to trust your instincts.

Tighnari cleared his throat. “This blend has great health benefits so I would advise you to drink it” despite his soft voice, you could make out the sternness hidden beneath it.

A weak “Yeah” escaped your lips.

You wrapped your lips carefully around the rim and swallowed. The tea was slightly sweet and a little bitter, but overall pleasant. You swallowed and lowered the cup.

As your gaze went between the four men before you, you noticed the hint of relief in their expressions. Kaveh grinned beside you and lifted his cup. “Let’s toast to [Name]’s newest book!”

The five off you brought your cups over the table and clinked them against each others. You did not miss how they exchanged glances. Their eyes swirling with a deep emotion you couldn’t quite place. It sent shivers down your spine and you gulped. Alhaitham’s ever so observant eyes didn’t miss the shift in your manner.

Time blended together as you talked about all and nothing. Your uneasiness had long passed and the house was filled with laughter. As time went on you felt slightly drowsy and you casted a glance over at the clock on the wall. It was time for you to head home.

You cleared throat “I think it’s time for me to head home. Thanks for having me, Alhaitham and Kaveh. I have had so much fun”. You smiled and was about to stand up when Kaveh placed a hand on your shoulder, making you sit down again. “Wait a moment. I will bring you some food to go. We didn’t eat it all so there’s plenty left!” his smile didn’t reach his eyes which were wide and frantic. As he made his way to the kitchen he bumped into different things and almost tilted Cyno’s glass over. Alhaitham eyed the blond with an unreadable expression.

“Are you tired, [Name]?” Cyno’s voice soft. He reached his hand over the table and gently grasped yours. The skin on his fingertips rough after many years of wielding his spear. On the back of your hand his long finger drew circles in a soothing manner.

“I am, that’s why I should head home” your eyelids slightly heavy as you blinked.

The hazel eyed man sighed softly “Why don’t you rest your eyes?”.

Your eyes flickered up to met the fox’s predatory eyes. His expression soft and yearning. A expression one reserved towards their lover.

“I really should… go… home…” your speech became slurred as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

Kaveh entered the room and paused in the opening. Why was his hands empty? Didn’t he say he would bring you some food you could take with you home?

“It finally took affect. I really started to stress out” the blond sighed out in relief.

“I told you I would time it correctly, didn’t I?” Tighnari answered him.

What were they talking about? You leaned back against the backrest, your head heavy and feeling like it was filled with cotton. Your mind drifting. Voices broke through your sleepy state.

“Is she fully out now?”

“Not yet. I would give it a few more minutes.”

“I have already sent her editor a letter in case she wonders where she has gone.”

“It is almost frightening how naive she is… We really did the right thing.”

Strong arms snaked underneath you and cradled you against his chest. A deep voice sounded in your ear “We will take good care of you. No one will hurt you now”.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with a unfamiliar ceiling. Daylight swept through the curtains and lit up the room. Your head was hammering and your body felt numb. You scanned the room as a attempt to understand where you were. The room was decorated with flowers and delicate trinkets. It was decorated exactly as you would decorate it…

You removed the sheets and sat upright. The covers were soft and a pale pink colour. You didn’t wear the clothes you wore last night, but a rose pink nightdress. The fabric was silky and beautiful. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed. You carefully sat down one foot, then the other and slowly rose. You were wobbly and slightly off balance, but you managed to make your way over to the door that seem to lead outside the bedroom.

You slowly opened the door and peered out into the hallway. The interior was the same as that of Alhaitham and Kaveh’s house. Weird. You stopped in your tracks as you tried to recall the night before. None of you had engaged in alcohol. In fact the only beverages you drank were tea and water.

You walked down the hallway as you studied your surroundings. You had been to the scribe’s house before, but you had never been to that part of the house. You stopped before two green tainted glass doors. You could hear the faint sound of voices. Even though you did not hear what they said, you recognised them. It was the voices of your four trusted friends.

You opened the door quietly and entered the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked bread made your stomach slightly growl. The fennec fox had his gaze fixed on you as you entered the kitchen. He had without doubt heard you the moment you stood up from you bed.

At the sound of your stomach, the white haired man turned his head to face you. “You are finally awake. Kaveh already baked some bread. We thought you would be quiet hungry when you woke up” his expression soft and on his mouth was a gentle smile.

You blinked. The kitchen table was set to five. Alhaitam stood by the coffee grinder. His green orange gaze set on you. Kaveh stormed towards you and took your hands in his. “I hope you are hungry! There’s plenty off food, so eat as much as you want!”

You tried to wry your hands out of his grasp, but it proved to be an impossible task. He was really strong, not surprising when he wielded a claymore. “Why am I here?” your question snapped Kaveh out of his cheerfulness. “What happened? What the fuck did you do?” your eyes were wide in terror as you stepped back.

The blond tightened his hold on your small hands. His expression was dark. “We did this to protect you” his answer curt.

The grey haired scribe stepped in and placed a hand on his senior’s shoulder. Kaveh hesitated before he released your hands.

You quickly stepped back. The wall hit you back, making you slightly lose balance. You were trapped. Tears welled up in your eyes. Why didn’t they tell you that this was only a misunderstanding?

“You are going to stay here. This is your new home. Forget about the outside world. It will only do you harm” Alhaitam’s stern voice snapping you out of your tears.

“Yeah, me and Cyno will stay here when our schedules allows us. This is truly for the best” Tighnari smiled. “Why don’t you get something to eat, hmm? You will feel better when you have some food in your stomach” he pulled out a chair for you to sit. “I will get you some medicine too. I can imagine that you have quite the headache now”.

Cyno placed his hand firmly on your lower back and guided you to the table. He looked at you sternly and you sat down. Tighnari gave you some medicine which tasted bitter.

“I still don’t understand…”

“Why did you kidnap me?” you looked up at the four men with a sacred expression.

“It’s not technically kidnapping as you already were in their house…” Cyno remarked.

“Shut it Cyno” Tighnari snapped. “Be a little but more mindful. Her fear is a natural response”.

Cyno held his hands up in a defensive way and muttered a “sorry”.

“We have noticed that you often find yourself in dangerous situations and we think that staying here, is for the best” Kaveh had kneeled down besides you. His hand gently holding yours. “We know all too well how cruel humans can be and we wish to protect you. You are too precious after all, darling” his red eyes laced with obsession mixed with a love deeper than any well.

You swallowed thickly. The situation you found yourself in really started to dawn on you. You were absolutely helpless. There were no chance in hell that you would escape the clutches of the unforgiving general, the intelligent scribe, the passionate architect and the cunning forest ranger. You were truly doomed.

“It seems you finally realise your place. Good” the scribe patted you gently on your head. “Just you wait, it won’t take long before you realise this is where you belong”.

Soft lips met your cheek as you started off into the distance. As the grey haired man lips made contact with your skin, you knew your fate was sealed.

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scoonsalicious · 2 months

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3.4 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of Bucky's past, minor fluff.

Word Count: 482

Previously On...: Bucky and Lily went out to brunch, and Bucky lied about his upcoming plans with you.

A/N: I'm going to let you all know well in advance that, once I finish posting through Chapter 5, I am going to take a small break from updating so I can write (I'm thinking maybe a week, tops). I've had some things going on recently that have been taking up a lot of my mental and emotional energy, which has prevented me from being as invested in the story as I want to be, so I need to take some time to get myself in the right headspace to where the story just flows out. I'm currently only two chapters ahead, and that makes me nervous, so I would like to build my buffer back up again. So, there will be a pause in updates starting on Tuesday, May 14th, and updates will resume on Tuesday, May 21st. I do hate doing this, and I know that, as a reader, it's so annoying when you have to wait between updates, but it needs to be done in order to provide you with the best story possible. I probably should have taken more time between finishing Unwanted and beginning to post With Friends Like These..., but I was too eager to share it with all of you to wait, lol. I want to be upfront and honest with all of you ahead of time, so I hope you understand.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You’d spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon digging up everything you could about Bucky’s trial. At first, you were getting nowhere, not being able to find any information about ‘Bucky Barnes,’ but then you nearly slapped yourself on the head when you recalled Lily referring to him as ‘Jamie.’ Obviously, ‘Bucky’ was a nickname, and once you searched ‘James Barnes + trial,” you were nearly overwhelmed by the number or results you got.

Meticulously, you went through them, as if you were gathering intelligence for a military op. You read all about his history in World War II with Steve (which, admittedly, you sort of already knew about from Nat), but things took a turn when you discovered he’d been declared MIA: Presumed Dead, only to resurface around 2014.

You nearly started crying when you read what had been done to him– the loss of his arm, the experiments, the serum, all under the control of the terrorist group, Hydra. The brainwashing. And you really did start to cry when you read about what Hydra had made him do for them. The assassinations, the murders. Screw whatever Zadie and Rand thought. This poor man was a victim. One who didn’t deserve to spend a moment behind bars. Your heart positively broke for him.

You were wiping the tears from your eyes when Zadie popped her head in. “Hey, Major,” she said, a devilish smile on her face. “You got a delivery.”

You look back at her, puzzled. You weren’t expecting anything. Getting up from your chair, you made your way to the front reception area. There, on Zadie’s desk, was a beautiful gold bowl holding a live fuschia orchid plant.

“There’s a note!” Zadie squealed, bouncing on her toes and wringing her hands together in excited anticipation.

Biting your lip, you reached over and picked up the note. Unfolding it, you tried to make out the messy scrawl:

‘Major,

Thanks for bringing some beauty into my life last night. Figure it’s only fair I return the favor. Looking forward to seeing you tonight for dinner. - Bucky’

“Oh. My. God.” Zadie picked up a piece of paper from her desk and began fanning herself. “I don’t care how many people that guy murdered,” she said. “That’s the most romantic fucking thing I’ve ever seen!” She paused. “How did he even know orchids are your favorite?”

“I don’t know,” you said, gently running your finger along the edges of the soft petals. “I guess I’ll have to ask him tonight.” You looked back at the note, rereading it, and smiling. You felt your stomach fill up with butterflies, as though you were a sixteen year old girl again, getting flowers from a boy for the very first time. God, but this man seemed absolutely perfect.

But you were never this lucky. You couldn’t help but wonder when the other shoe would drop.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 5 months

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My dear lgbt+ kids,

So, you have been in a relationship for a while and you’re ready and eager to take the next step - but your partner isn’t. What now?

The “next step” I’m referring to here could mean a lot of different things because relationships do not all follow one specific timeline (and also because my readers may be of wildly different ages and live in wildly different situations) but I am thinking of any “deepening our commitment” things here: for example introducing them to your friends or your family, moving in together or (if you are in a situation where that’s a legal possibility) even marriage or having a child together.

Whatever the step actually looks like, you may have this romantic idea of “If they’re right for you, you’ll always naturally want to take these steps at the same time”… but that’s not really how relationships work in real life. Even in the healthiest relationship and even if you absolutely feel like they’re your soulmate, you may still disagree on when to take those steps or even on whether you want to take these steps at all.

In fact, it’s uniquely frustrating if everything else is going well. If their refusal to meet your mom is just another point on the long list of behaviors that make you feel like they don’t really care about you, that’s also painful but it’s easier to give advice there: maybe you should think about breaking up. It’s tempting to believe that you can make them love you more if you move in with them or that they’ll treat you better once you get engaged, but that won’t work out. You can’t fix a broken relationship by deepening the commitment - commitment needs a stable foundation to grow. And this doesn’t only go for outright abusive relationships: they may be a wonderful person but you two just have entirely different goals and needs, and those won’t suddenly overlap more just because you moved in with them or married them.

With all that being said: if there IS a healthy and stable foundation, if you are happy in every other aspect and they’re just hesitant about this one specific step, then jumping straight to “break up with them” would obviously be pretty unhelpful advice. Differing opinions occur even in the most compatible couple, you are both whole people with your own individual feelings and those do not necessarily doom the whole relationship. It’s important to see this situation in the context of the relationship in general.

You may be able to guess that a big portion of the advice is just gonna be “Communicate with your partner” - but first of all, I’d advise you to have an open and honest conversation with yourself. Why is this step of commitment so important to you? What does it mean to you? Do you feel a sense of urgency in taking it and if so, why? Is this specific step the only possible path for your need to be met? Are you open to alternative approaches, are you open to waiting (and if so, for how long)? The purpose of these questions is definitely not to convince yourself to give up on your needs or to talk yourself into a compromise you’re not really happy with! The opposite of that, actually: It’s helpful to reflect on what exactly you want and why you want it, so you have the clarity you need to discuss it productively. You don’t want to agree to something that ultimately leaves you unsatisfied and bitter, but you also don’t want to push hard for something you later on realize doesn’t even mean that much to you.

When you feel confident enough about your own stance to discuss it with your partner, the most important thing to remember is: you’re on the same team. The goal here isn’t to “win” or to change their mind, but to see each others perspective better and find a solution you’re both happy with. Listen with an open mind. Try to understand before you try to influence. Remind yourself that your partner isn’t your enemy, they also want the best outcome for both of you - otherwise you (hopefully) wouldn’t want to commit to them!

Something you should get clarification on during your conversations: is it a hard no (do not want to do that at all ever), a soft no (open to alternatives or adjustments), a no for now (want to do it but not yet), a yes but (want to do it but only under certain circumstances or in a different way than your original plan) or a I don’t know? How does this affect your feelings on the situation? (I’m sure that even just while reading these different scenarios, some instinctively feel better or worse than others! But it’s still important to take some time to sit with any new information that comes up during those conversations. Neither of you should feel pressured or rushed here!)

You may find that they just never considered that there may be multiple approaches to that step (an example for this would be that they are not actually opposed to the idea of being married to you, just to the idea of a wedding, and didn’t consider yet that eloping is also a possibility) - but don’t set yourself up for disappointment by expecting the conversation to 100% go that way. It may also be a hard no, and that wouldn’t make them a horrible person. People can deeply, truly love someone and still do not want to take certain steps with them. It’s a good idea to remind yourself that you’re not “in the right” or “the better person” for wanting to take those steps. While certain steps may be a big part of your own future plans or even of your identity and self-image (and that’s valid!), they are just personal preferences. It’s not a moral obligation to want them, and your partner isn’t mean for not wanting them. But, of course, at this point we also need to say: if you can not imagine a life where you never get married, you are not a horrible person for breaking up with a partner who can not imagine to ever marry. “Irreconcilable differences” are a common breakup reason for a reason.

So, to summarize: Building a strong foundation is crucial before taking big steps. Communicate openly with yourself first - understand why you want to take this step and if there are alternatives. When talking to your partner, remember you're a team; it's not about winning but understanding each other. Be open to different responses, from a clear no to conditions on a yes. Do not pressure your partner but do not completely give up on your own happiness either.

The journey of commitment should be a shared adventure - not a battle or a competitive race!

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt #lgbt+

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btsqualityy · 9 months

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BTS Dating Series #16: Nicknames

Members x Reader

Genre/Rate: 18+, fluff

Summary: Nicknames are an endearing sign of growing affection.

Warnings:n Some suggestive making out in Yoongi's part and just general suggestiveness in Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook's parts.

Kim Seokjin

The two of you were at Jin's apartment, moving around each other in the kitchen as you worked on preparing dinner.

"Hey Jinnie?" You called out to him. "How much gochujang am I supposed to put in here?"

"Hmm," Jin muttered as he stepped over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and hooking his chin over your shoulder. "I'm not entirely sure, jagi. This is Yoongi-yah's recipe and I doubt he'll answer the phone if I call because he's had his head stuck so far up his girlfriend's ass these days."

"First off, don't make fun of him," you huffed. "He really likes her and you need to be a supportive hung."

"Of course," Jin nodded dutifully.

"And secondly," you murmured as you turned around in his arms to face him. "Jagi? Why'd you call me that?"

"Well, it just felt natural," he shrugged. "Besides, you are my sweetheart. Do you not like it?"

"No," you smiled as you felt your cheeks warm up a little. "It's fine." You turned around without another word then and Jin smiled knowingly to himself, tightening his arms around you before pressing a kiss to your head.

Min Yoongi

"Fuck, I missed you so much," you murmured against Yoongi's lips as the two of you made out messily. After not being able to spend much time together over the last week, the two of you were eager to make up for lost time.

"I missed you more baby," Young replied huskily. "My pretty girl."

"Don't make me feel all lovey-dovey," you giggled. "It takes the lust away from this."

"Why not have both?" He suggested with a smirk, kissing you again before you even got a chance to respond. It didn't take long for your hands to start wondering and Yoongi's resolve broke when you reached down into his boxers.

"Fuck, come here Min," he huffed, quickly clutching your waist and changing your positions so that you were on your back on his bed, underneath him.

"Wait, what did you just call me?" You questioned breathlessly. "Min?"

"Shit, I didn't mean to say that aloud," Yoongi sighed.

"So you didn't mean it?"

"No, I did but I don't wanna freak you out."

"Why'd you call me that?" You pressed.

"It just...you feel like family to me already," he admitted with a sheepish shrug. "Like, like you're mines."

"Oh baby," you whispered, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. "I am."

"Yeah?" Yoongi whispered as he lowered himself so that his face was near yours. "Say it again."

"I'm yours," you mumbled before kissing him firmly.

Kim Namjoon

"Oh my gosh," you giggled loudly from your place sitting across from Namjoon, instantly covering up your mouth so that you didn't disturb the other people who were dining around you. "You're too much. Why would you tell me about Jin eating that hot Chile in front of all these people?"

"Because I knew it'd make you laugh and I love seeing your smile," Namjoon admitted, making your cheeks warm up. "I feel like I haven't seen much of your smile these days."

"We've both been working," you shrugged, reaching out and picking up your wine glass. "I've missed you but I kind of like that we each have our own things going on, you know?"

"Trust me, I get it," he nodded in agreement. "And I missed you too." Just as you went to respond, you heard a buzzing noise and you realized that it was Namjoon's phone once he reached into his pocket. After looking at the screen, Namjoon looked back up at you with a sorry expression.

"If it's work, go ahead and answer it if you have to," you gave him permission. "I don't mind."

"You sure?"

"Positive," you smiled as you took a sip of your red wine. Namjoon answered the phone then, speaking in hushed tones since the two of you were in the middle of a restaurant.

"I'll look over the song as soon as I'm able to, Hob-ah but I can't now because I'm out with my girl," Namjoon murmured. "I'll call you later, ok? Ok." He hung up the phone then, smiling at you. "You ok?"

"More than ok," you nodded, your mind repeating the words 'My Girl' over and over again.

Jung Hoseok

"Hey baby, where are you?" You called out as you walked into Hobi's apartment, fresh from your workout and ready to see your boyfriend.

"In here!" He shouted from the living room and you walked that way, laughing when you saw Hobi's body strewn over the couch.

"And just how long have you been in this position?" You wondered as you walked over to him, sitting down next to his feet.

"About 10 hours and it's been amazing," he sighed dreamily. "How was work? And your workout?"

"Both good, productive," you shrugged.

"Enough to put you in a good mood?"

"I guess so," you shrugged.

"So much so that you called me baby," Hobi smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"Is that weird?"

"Yes, coming from you," Hobi nodded. "Anything that you wanna talk to me about?"

"No," you shook your head. "I just, you always call me cute nicknames so I wanted to do the same for you."

"Well, I appreciate the gesture baby but I don't need a nickname to know how much you love me," Hobi reassured you.

"Alright, regular old Hobi it is then," you joked, making Hobi roll his eyes as you leaned over to press a kiss to his lips.

Park Jimin

"Jimin-ssi!" You shouted over the loud music that Jimin had blaring throughout your apartment, which was quickly becoming his as well these days. "What do you want for lunch?"

"What?!" He shouted back.

"Turn the music down and maybe you'll be able to hear!" You giggled and Jimin followed your suggestion, turning the Bangtan song down before walking into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Sorry baby," he murmured. "Repeat yourself for me?"

"I said, Jimin-ssi, what do you want for lunch?"

"Anything you make is fine, I'm not picky as long as you're cooking it," he shrugged. "Let me ask you a question though."

"What's up?"

"Why do you still call me Jimin-ssi?" He wondered. "I mean, we're long past strangers now, right?"

"Right but it just became a habit and honestly, I kind of like it," you smiled, glancing at him over your shoulder. "It's like our own little thing, you know?"

"I do know," Jimin nodded. "I like having us having a little thing."

"Oh, no you don't," you shook your head when Jimin began leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck. "I'm hungry!"

"So am I," he shrugged, making you laugh out loud as he continued to kiss you.

Kim Taehyung

"Mmm," Taehyung moaned deeply as he pressed a firm kiss to your lips. "I love you."

"I love you too," you murmured back against his lips, receiving two quick presses of his lips to yours before he pulled away and moved his body so that he was now laying next to you instead of on top of you the way he had been. Needless to say, the two of you had enjoyed a slow morning and Taehyung had decided to give you an amazing wake up call.

"My gorgeous girl," he whispered as he intertwined one of your hands with his, leaning over and continuing to press open mouthed kisses over any piece of your skin that he could reach. "My love, my joy."

"Your joy?" You echoed, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"Yeah," he nodded. "You make me so happy, happier than I ever thought I could be with another person. Even if we're upset with each other, it still makes me happy to see you or talk to you. That's why it feels right to call you that."

"Tae," you huffed, closing your eyes once you felt the tears welling up in them.

"Aww baby," Taehyung chuckled fondly, opening his arms and allowing you to burrow into his side before he pressed a soft kiss to your head.

Jeon Jungkook

You rushed over to your front door once you heard the knocking, a wide smile on your face as you unlocked it and yanked it open.

"Hi baby," Jungkook grinned.

"Kook!" You squealed, rushing forward and literally jumping onto him. He caught you with a huff, laughing afterwards as you hugged him tightly. "I missed you so much!"

"I've only been gone for a week," he pointed out and you looked down at him.

"If you didn't miss me, just say that," you rolled your eyes.

"Of course I did," he smirked, making you suck your teeth before you kissed him passionately. Once the two of you had properly greeted each other, he set you down and you pulled him into your apartment before you shut the door behind him. "Hey, did you call me Kook when you opened the door?"

"Uh, yeah?" You shrugged with a laugh. "Is that not a nickname of yours?"

"It is, you've just never used it before," Jungkook replied. "I like how it sounds coming from you."

"Yeah? Well, if you want, I'll say it over and over again," you purred. "That is, if you can make me."

"That week I was gone must've dulled your memory when it comes to what I can do to you," he smirked. "Go get on the bed."

"Yes Sir," you winked, yelping when Jungkook reached down and smacked your ass.

................................................................

Tag List: @addictedtohobi @brittneymccray @cursedcursives @arata18nanami @leftieaquarius @devilsbooksworld @starmyy @werewolfbanshee-love @li-moonchild-il @kpop-servant @cheysjimin

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theemporium · 10 months

Text

based of this request!🫶🏽

Max deemed it was only fair that he shared some of his childhood experiences with you after the countless ones you shared with him.

You were all up for it until you realised it was karting.

At first, you were hesitant because of the ties it connected to in his past. You thought about the countless stories he told you about being a young boy, crying and desperate to please his father who seemed to have impossibly high expectations of his son.

But then you remembered that it was his childhood. That this was something he wanted to share with you, that he wanted to experience with you like the way you had shown him countless experiences for the first time. And you couldn’t find it in your heart to say no to him when he asked with those puppy dog eyes.

However, by the time you got into the karts, you were met with a pretty harsh reality.

You were absolutely shit at karting.

You thought Max would get a bit annoyed and impatient. After all, he was five years old and doing this with ease. And here you were, almost two decades older and unable to even go around the track once without crashing into something.

But when you got out the kart after the first round, Max took off his helmet before coming to help you with yours, and he had a massive grin on his face.

“You’re not annoyed by how shit I am?” You asked him, almost warily as you took his hand to help pull yourself out of the kart.

“Why would I be annoyed?” He asked, his brows furrowed in confusion. “It’s cute.”

You raised your brows. “It’s cute seeing me crash?”

“It’s cute seeing you get so frustrated at not being automatically good at something,” he corrected with a cheeky grin.

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned.

However, between glaring at the kart and trying to listen to the tips Max was giving you, you seemed to miss the small child standing a few feet away. He was young, probably no older than six or seven years old. And he was staring at Max with wide, eager eyes, listening to every single word that left his mouth.

Max paused when he noticed the young boy, a small smile on his lips. However, the boy looked sheepish and embarrassed, and quickly turned around to try to run off.

“Hey, little guy,” Max crouched down, nodding the kid over.

“I’m sorry!” The young boy blurted out, fiddling with the straps of his small race suit. “I just…I wanted to know how you did that.”

Max raised his brows. “How I won?”

The kid nodded and something in his chest tightened, in a good way. In a way he wasn’t really used.

Despite the short-temper Max tended to have on track and with people in general, he had the patience of the saint as he kneeled next to the boy’s kart and began talking away to him. He gave him tips and tricks, told him little mottos that helped him before a race.

It was a light you had never seen Max in before and it warmed your heart.

By the time you made it on the track for the second time that day, and even though it was purely on purpose (by Max, at least. You couldn’t say the same with yourself, you truly were quite shit behind the wheel), the young boy had won.

He was grinning ear to ear when you made your way to the makeshift podium, standing proudly on the top step as he shook the bottle of fizzy juice until it sprayed everywhere. Max was smiling just as hard as the young boy. A smile that only grew when the boy launched himself at Max into a hug to say thank you.

Your boyfriend was still buzzing by the time you made it to the car. The track was a decent drive away, and with the day finally taking its toll on you, you were happy to close your eyes and lean your head against the window as you listened to your boyfriend ramble on about the day.

Until he said something that made your eyes snap open.

“I think if our kids ever kart, I think I’d wanna be pretty hands on, you know?”

You froze, unsure if you even heard him correctly. You opened your eyes, turning to look at him, but his eyes were still on the road as he spoke. However, when you remained silent, he finally glanced over and noted the expression on your face.

“What?” He murmured before frowning. “I don’t mean like my dad…if that’s what you thought. I just meant like—”

His hands gripped the wheel as he faced forward again, trying to find the words to speak but they were a stuttering mess.

But that wasn’t what caught you off guard. It was his use of our. Not my, but our.

Our kids.

Your relationship with Max was still in the early stages, though there were the months of friendship that stood as a solid foundation of your relationship. And maybe it should have scared you that he was talking about kids so soon, that he was talking about your kids so soon, but it warmed your heart.

You imagined the young boy at the race track once again, except this time he was the perfect mix of you and Max. Maybe your skin tone and his nose. Or your smile and his eyes. Something that was a little bit of both of you. Or maybe even a young girl, one that Max would treat like his absolute princess.

You found that if that was your future, you didn’t mind it one bit.

“I think you’ll be a great father and teacher,” you said eventually, interrupting his stuttered rambles.

Something on his expression eased as he turned to you again, a small smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled back. “And hopefully the kid has more of your genes than mine when they want to race.”

Max snorted. “If they want to race.”

“If they want to race,” you agreed with a nod.

And maybe both of your dreams that night were spent imagining a world with the two of you and your mini-me at the race track, matching helmets with their father and cheers from their mother.

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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daydreaming-nerd · 2 months

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Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 12

Young Love and Old Money Masterlist

AN: Wow this took longer than I thought because I JUST graduated college, which has been a hard transition for me. Also in one of my grad photos I posed with ACOMAF and Fourth Wing and tagged both Sarah and Rebecca Yarros and REBECCA FUCKING DMed ME AND CONGRATULATED ME! So yeah that was insane.

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: Smut, mating bond being accepted, territorial Cass, angst for Rhys

Word Count: 5,535

“And this is really what you want?” Rhysand asks me for the one-millionth time.

“Yes brother,” I assure him, taking his hands in mine.

“No ornate, over the top mating ceremony? No wedding with all seven courts in attendance? Need I remind you that you are the Princess of Velaris, The Jewel of Prythian. I am the High Lord of Night, simply speak it and it is done,” Rhysand fusses.

I can’t help but laugh at his eagerness to lay the world at the feet of his little sister. He had already given me our mother’s sapphire encrusted diadem as my something blue and had the small temple decorated in faelights and night blooming jasmine. I could practically smell the sweet flowers from the other side of the double oak doors before me. If I peeked through the crack I would see my handsome mate, my cousin, Azriel, and Amren, all waiting for Rhys to walk me down the aisle.

“Rhys, I already had a larger than life wedding. I want this one to be intimate and sweet, just my family,” I assure him and I see his shoulders relax.

“I’m sorry that Autumn Court traditions didn’t allow me to walk you down the aisle last time,” he smiles, offering me his arm, which I take.

“It’s okay that was just the practice wedding,” I tease, bumping into his shoulder.

Rhys barks out a laugh, a real one, a sound I hadn’t heard from him in a long time. He looks over at me one last time, taking in my appearance before placing a kiss on the top of my head, “You look beautiful sister. Cassian is truly a very lucky male.”

I smile, smoothing my dress over one last time before the double doors open to reveal the beautiful temple and my mate turns to meet my gaze.

The soft faelights cast a warm glow throughout the temple and the smiling faces of my family meet me as Rhys leads me down the aisle. Mor looks so happy she might squeal, Amren’s face dons a small smile, the biggest one I’ve seen from her, ever. Azriel looks at me for only a moment before turning his head to Cassian, watching his brother's reaction to seeing his future wife and mate.

Cassian was dressed immaculately, in one of the many jackets that he wore to the Autumn Court balls. But I didn’t care much about how he dressed, I was more focused on his eyes, how they glassed over as I walked closer to him. Such happiness and joy that lie in them, like he had been waiting for this day for many years.

As I step up to him Rhys passes my hand to Cassian’s with a knowing glance. My general looked down upon me like I was the most precious thing he ever beheld. I squeezed his hands tighter to assure him that I was real.

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, my love,” Cassian smiled before turning to the priestess.

I don’t have time to say anything before the priestess begins to speak, seemingly more eager than the rest of us.

“We gather here today to bear witness to the union of these two beings. If anyone should have any reason why these two shall not be joined please say so at once.” the priestess says.

“This is also the time when I remind everyone that I have a knife,” Cassian says under his breath, earning a laugh from all of us.

“Very well,” the priestess giggles. “Do you, y/n, youngest sister of our High Lord Rhysand and Princess of Velaris, take this male to be your lawfully wedded husband? In sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, as long as you shall live?” she asked me.

“I do,” I smiled seeing the love pouring from Cassian’s eyes as I slid the simple gold band on his finger. There might have been five other people in the room but I couldn’t care less. Cassian’s hands gave mine a gentle squeeze, his way of showing me how happy he was to hear me say those two little words.

“And do you, Cassian, General of the Night Courts Armies, take this female to be your lawfully wedded wife? In sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, as long as you shall live?” the priestess asks, looking at Cassian. He didn’t even notice her.

“Hell yeah I do,” he laughs, earning a laugh from our family once more as he places his mother’s ring on my hand.

“Princess if you would,” she said, gesturing to the small blackberry tart on the plate before her.

When I asked Cassian what he wanted as his official mating offering he didn’t hesitate to ask for a blackberry tart. I was puzzled at first until he explained that we met because of a blackberry tart. The first day he saw me, reading on the couch of the townhouse he and Azriel had come over because my mother had made us all blackberry tarts. It was after his story that I realized he had thought about this for a long time.

I picked up the small pastry off the ornate plate and offered it to Cass. He plucked it from my hands like it was made of porcelain and took a bite, berry staining his lips. I couldn’t help but reach a hand up to wipe the mess from his face.

“Congratulations you two, you are now mates as well as husband and wife,” the priestess smiled fondly, taking a step back.

“C’mere you,” Cassian smirked, pulling me into a kiss.

His mouth melded against mine, and immediately things felt…different. They were deeper, stronger. The bond between us seemed to glow even brighter. I felt Cassian dip me, in order to kiss me deeper, earning cheers from our family, especially Mor. When we came up for air I felt like my skin was on fire, the need to touch and feel all of my mate consuming my very soul. Like all moral code I had was thrown out the window. I barely felt it when we broke apart for air. The only thing bringing me back to reality was Cassian’s hazel eyes darkening.

“Rhys I’m sorry to say this, but I’m going to go fuck your sister now,” Cassian jested picking me up bridal style and walking back down the aisle.

The sound of my brother’s protest and the family’s laughter followed us as we launched skyward the cold night air whipping my dress around. The stars seemed brighter tonight as we flew over the Sidra, making a beeline for the House of Wind. It wasn’t uncommon for mating ceremonies to end so abruptly, but most of the time the couple would give their thanks to all in attendance before caving to the frenzy. Then again since when were Cassian and I a normal couple?

We landed on the terrace of the House of Wind and the second we were on solid ground Cassian kissed me, not even stopping to put me down.

“Cass put me down!” I laughed between kisses.

“Over my dead body, we're going straight to our room,” he smiled storming off towards the door.

That’s right, our room. I had moved all my things into his room just yesterday. Thankfully he didn’t have much of a wardrobe so my thousands of dresses fit perfectly.

The house thankfully opened our bedroom door for us, but it closed promptly with a slam as Cassian’s foot kicked it shut. I felt my feet finally touch the ground as greedy hands roamed my waist.

“You are truly the most beautiful bride, I am so lucky to have you,” Cassian beamed, taking in every inch of me.

“I’m far luckier to call you my mate and my husband,” I hum, kissing him again as I begin ripping the buttons of his shirt open.

“That’s right you’re my wife now,” he exclaimed, kissing me deeply. “I’ve waited so long to call you my wife y/n, you have no idea.”

I felt his hands wander to the buttons of my dress, he fumbled with a few before the thing was ripped in two, buttons ricocheting off every wall and surface in the room. I gasped as the cold air hit my bareback. I took a step back to reveal my surprise for my husband, one Mor insisted I needed tonight.

As the intricate wedding dress pooled at my feet my white lingerie was revealed. I remembered when Mor took me shopping at her favorite shop, she claimed it was nonnegotiable, and as Casssian’s eyes nearly popped out of his head I could see why.

“Fucking hell,” he moaned closing the distance between us by grabbing me by my waist. “Pinch me baby there’s no way you’re my wife,” he said, wandering his hands up and down my body setting my skin on fire.

“Why don’t you get on your knees Cass,” I whisper in his ear, knowing his second surprise is waiting for him there.

My general, and the Lord of Bloodshed, falls to his knees before me without even a protest. His eyes fell directly on the garter I was wearing on my thigh. Seemingly plain and white, but I smirked as his eyes widened once again as he saw the customization on it.

Embroidered on the garther in red thread, read one name.

‘Cassian’

“You’re going to kill me princess,” he groaned, pressing his head against my thigh.

I couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction to the fabric around my thigh as I ran a hand through his hair, “So it’s safe to say you like it?” I ask.

“Like it? I fucking love it baby. I’m fucking you with this one tonight.” He smirks leaving open mouthed kisses on my thigh.

“Damn it that thing is scratchy,” I giggle. I wasn’t lying, the lace had been rubbing against my leg all day.

“Then allow me to take it off for you,” he said, pressing a kiss just above the lace. “Can’t have anything marring my princess’ perfect skin,” he smirked before grabbing the fabric with his teeth and pulling it down my leg.

The sight of his dark eyes locking on mine as the lace slid off my leg was enough to have my knees buckle. Thankfully his hands on my hips kept me stable as the garter slid off my foot. He chucked the thing clear across the room before standing and picking me up in one fell swoop.

I couldn’t help but giggle as he laid me ever so gently on our shared bed. Staring down at me, taking in every single inch of me.

“My beautiful, beautiful mate,” he breathed, leaning over me to press a kiss to my lips before trailing his mouth down my neck. “Beautiful, exquisite, and all fucking mine,” he groaned accentuating each word with a kiss.

“Cassian,” I breathed, feeling his mouth traveling to where I needed him most. “I need you now,” I pleaded.

“Shhh not yet wife, I want to taste you first,” he grinned placing a kiss atop my clothed core before sliding the white lace down my legs and discarding it with the garter.

A series of kisses lined my core before he parted my folds, licking a long stripe up the center of me flicking his tongue at my clit causing me to arch my back off the mattress. He took his time, swirling and suckling on every part of me. When his fingers slid into me slowly but surely it had me crying out in pleasure.

I looked down to where my husband feasted on me, his eyes staring directly into mine. He watched my every reaction to his tongue and his hands as he brought me closer and closer to the gods themselves. Those hazel eyes turned dark brown as they devoured every gasp of pleasure I let out.

“Cass I’m going to-”

“Cum baby, I want my wife to cum all over my fucking face,” he growled thrusting his fingers into me faster. The change in his voice was so drastic, so deep it had me doing just that.

I knew the fae were more primal, more needy during their mating but I had no clue it would be like this, no clue I would love it as much as I did. As I came down from my high I realized how badly I needed him unleashed, needed all him.

“Fuck you taste so fucking good mate,” he groaned licking up whatever juices I left over.

“Cass I need you,” I said with a guttural sound that didn’t even sound like me.

His eyes snapped up from my cunt to me, somehow even darker than they were moments ago. He crawled up my body, a look in his eyes that could only be described as pure male pride as he said with a smirk.

“Yeah wife? You need me?” he grinned, placing open mouthed kisses over my collarbones.

“Yes Cass, I need you. I need all of you,” I pleaded, my nails raking down his now bareback. When his shirt had come off? I didn’t know.

“I’m not myself right now y/n,” he gritted, trying to show restraint. “I’ve never needed you as badly as I do now.”

“Take me Cass, I want you unleashed,” I begged, pulling him closer to me, just needing to feel his skin brush against mine.

His pants were quickly discarded to wherever my clothes had gone and I felt his hard cock brush against my stomach. I found myself subconsciously bucking into it like my body was forcing me to. He thrusted inside me in one motion filling me to the brim and causing us both to let out unnatural sounds.

“Ah oh god’s Cassian, it feels so good!” I cried, finally feeling the relief of having him inside me.

The only response I got from Cassian I got was a low growl as he started rutting inside of me. The sensation was almost too much to take. I knew that once the mating bond was accepted sex was different. There was nothing in the world that could compare. It was part of what made the mating bond so special.

As I felt Cassian thrusting into me, and heard his moans of pleasure as my walls clenched around him I wondered if I would ever get enough of this. If I would ever be truly satisfied. No wonder they called it the frenzy, I could sleep with him inside me and I would still need more.

“Holy fuck baby you feel so good,” Cassian grunted, his face tightening in the process.

“Cassian!” I screamed, unable to remember anything but the name of my mate.

“Who’s fuckin pussy is this?” he roared, setting a brutal pace.

“Yours Cass,” I cried, feeling myself falling over the edge at his words.

My orgasm ripped through me like a tidal wave, the pleasure branding my every nerve as I felt the aftershocks all over my body. I had never felt this way before.

“Fuckkk,” Cass moaned, sitting himself inside of me as I felt his load coat my walls.

He collapsed beside me cradling me to his chest, both of us sweating and breathing heavily. My legs trembled from the aftershock of my release.

“Shit princess, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Cassian asked, tilting my chin up so he could assess my face.

“No, no I’m fine,” I assured him before collapsing on his chest again.

“I’m sorry I got a little rough there, it was-”

“The bond,” I said, finishing his sentence. “Don’t worry I feel it too.”

The heat returned to that spot between my legs and suddenly I needed to be closer to him, even though I was lying on top of him. I lifted my head to press kisses to his bare chest, my favorite activity to do.

“Y/n if you don’t stop I’m gonna-”

“I need you Cassian,” I said, cutting him off again with another kiss to his pec.

His eyes lit up in amusement as he placed my hips over his already hard cock. I started grinding on him like my body was on autopilot.

“Who am I to deny a princess?” he smirked, pressing a kiss to my lips.

“We might be here a while,” I breathed, grasping his hair to pull him closer.

“I can live with that,” he smiled.

Cassian’s POV:

As expected the mating frenzy lasted about two weeks. Hell it would’ve been longer had Rhys not sent Azriel to break up the love fest. Apparently, there was still work to be done and my presence was needed at Windhaven. Devlon had been slacking in recruiting new troops, and with a war looming, and no Autumn Court soldiers to aid us, that wasn’t going to fly.

Thankfully with a few ass kickings, Devlon finally got his shit in gear, and more Illyrians were being recruited and trained. Every day I flew up to impart my wisdom and of course make an example of a few of the older soldiers who thought they were ready for battle.

The days were long, but it only made coming home to my mate all the more sweeter. I used to come home to an empty bed and a glass of whiskey, maybe even a female if I was lucky. At least I used to think I was lucky back then. Nothing compared to seeing y/n’s smiling face as I walked through the door every day.

Sometimes she would be reading a book and I could sneak up on her and kiss her on the cheek. Other times she would sneak up on me and wrap her arms around me before telling me I was stinky and needed a bath, a bath she always happily joined me in. One that was more fucking than it was washing.

“Princess, are you almost ready?” I asked her, knocking on the bathroom door once again.

With things in the camps finally starting to run according to schedule I finally had time to train y/n as she had asked me to. I couldn’t believe that she thought I wouldn’t want to. I had never been more proud of her for wanting to give herself that freedom, that peace of mind to know that she could defend herself if need be. I was grateful to be the one to help her. So grateful in fact that I went out and bought her some Illyrian training leathers.

She nearly squealed at the sight of them, but the second she touched them her face contorted. She told me that she was scared to wear them because even though she was half Illyrian she didn’t have wings. To which I explained to her that if anyone dared say a word about it they would find their head on a pike. Not that I thought anyone in Windhaven would dare insult their general’s mate.

“Yeah I think so, are they always this tight?” she asked, throwing open the bathroom door.

I had seen my mate in lavish dresses, wedding dresses, lingerie, and nothing at all, but seeing her in Illyrian fighting leathers? It was going to be a lot harder to keep my focus than I thought.

“Cass?” she chimed, snapping her fingers to get my attention.

“Oh- um,” I stumbled. “Yes they are, they create less drag when flying and they keep your opponents from having something to grab onto,” I explain to her, unable to keep my eyes from wandering over her body.

“I suppose that makes sense,” she said, turning to look at herself in the mirror one last time. “I’m ready to go then.”

We made our way to a terrace giving Azriel a wave as we took flight. It might’ve been faster to winnow to Windhaven, but I didn’t mind flying with y/n in my arms one bit. Not when I spent days thinking I never would again. Not when this relationship between us was so new. I still felt like it would be ripped away from me at any given moment, Cauldron knew everything else in my life had been.

The weather in Velaris was beginning to warm up as spring was approaching, but in the Illyrian mountains there was still snow on the ground. As we neared Windhaven I felt y/n shiver and instinctively pulled her closer to me. I hadn’t told Devlon that we were coming to use the sparring ring and the practice grounds. I didn’t need to, I was the general, and more importantly y/n was their princess. Granted a princess they had never seen before, but still their superior nonetheless.

Confused faces graced every man woman and child as I touched down at the edge of camp with y/n. They had all of course heard stories of y/n, maybe even seen paintings of her, but they had never once seen her in the flesh. Even though news traveled slowly here it wasn’t hard to guess who she was, not with all the stories of her beauty. I remembered Eris recounting one…

“Eyes like a storm, skin soft as rose petals and hair like threads of silk. The Jewel of Prythian and the weakness of every male…”

As we walked through the camp I understood why y/n hated large crowds so much. I remember she once told me that walking through a ballroom felt like being a painting put on display. As we walked hand in hand I noticed that every pair of eyes that found her also found me, which set me on edge. I looked down to see her blissfully unaware like she was completely unbothered by their stares. Still, I would keep on my toes.

We approached a rogue training ring near the edge of the camp, and I felt y/n’s body language lighten as she ran over to a rack of wooden weapons picking up a sword. The look on her face was so enthusiastic I couldn’t help but smile at her.

“You’re not quite ready for that one,” I laughed watching her swing the sword around like a toy.

“Are you kidding me? Does this look ‘not ready’ to you?” She challenged, pointing the sword at me.

I cocked an eyebrow at the dull wood pointing at my chest. In one movement I grasped the end of the practice sword in one hand and pushed her down with the other. She fell to the mat with a thud, looking up at me like a toddler.

“Hey!” she protested dusting herself off as I put the fake weapon back with the rest.

“You asked me to treat you the same as I would any of my troops. Are you taking that statement back?” I challenged her.

“No I just didn’t know you were going to push me,” she huffed.

“Oh, I’m gonna do a lot more than just push you, princess,” I laughed ruffling her hair which was in a simple braid. “If you want to wield a sword you have to be strong enough for it. Which means we're going to be working on those muscles first.”

“Okay let's do it!” she exclaimed. “Where do we start?”

“You, start by giving me three laps around camp to get warmed up,” I said sitting on a nearby rock.

“You’re not joining me?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“And miss the view of you running away in those pants? Not a chance princess.” I smirked, getting comfortable where I sat.

To my surprise, there were no further protests as she collected herself and began running around the camp. I was right about the view of my mate running in those tight Illyrian leathers, it would be a miracle if I let those things get home in one piece.

Y/n ‘s first lap around the camp was a quick one, I forgot to tell her that it wasn’t about getting the laps done quickly, it was about warming up. I supposed that learning from one’s mistakes was the best way to learn though. Once she got through her second lap she had slowed down and by the time she came back to the mat her breaths were ragged.

“By the cauldron how do you do that?” she asked out of breath.

“That was three-quarters of a mile princess, my warm-up is five miles,” I laugh standing from the rock.

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head at my words. She straightens up trying her best to control her breaths.

“Now drop and give me twenty push-ups,” I said pointing to the mat. Y/n raised her eyebrows and started doing her pushups as asked.

It wasn’t until a few moments later that I became acutely aware of the presence around us. Without turning my body from where my mate did her exercises, I lifted my gaze to find women and soldiers alike staring at y/n. I tried to act as if I didn’t see them there, turning my attention to my wife once more where she stood, wiping the sweat from her brow.

“Good now let’s try something else,” I said, walking over towards the rack of weapons and grabbing weighted gloves. “Put these on and let's see how you’re able to swing.”

I watched as she tied the gloves on and tried to hide my smile as the things flopped around her small hands. I could get her custom ones made later but for now, these would do. She put her hands up like she was ready to fight me and I helped her adjust her position to one that she might actually use.

“Alright now I’m going to hold out my hands and you’re going to punch in sequence, right, right, left, right. Do that over and over again.” I instruct her to hold up my bare hands.

“Aren’t I going to hurt you though?” she asked, peering from behind her gloves.

“One day you will,” I laughed. “But I promise I can handle a beginner. Now come on, lay a couple on me.”

She cocked her head to the side as if she was still questioning my toughness, which was a slight bruise to my ego. Once she did the sequence a couple of times and I didn’t so much as flinch I could feel pride floating down the bond. Like she was proud to have me as a mate.

My thoughts were interrupted as the interlopers aside us continued to ogle and whisper about us. Their numbers having doubled since the last time I looked. Y/n was completely focused on the series of punches, muttering the order under her breath. I couldn’t help but try and listen in on two females standing by us.

“Is that the princess?”

“Why would the princess be here with the general?”

“I’m not sure but she looks like a painting of y/n that I’ve seen before.”

Y/n continued her exercises until I stopped her, as I wanted to try out a different sequence. I corrected her stance once more and made sure she was holding her fists properly before she picked up on the new pattern. My eyes flitted to a group of three or four soldiers looking at us and listened to their exchange.

“Who the hell is that with the general?”

“I think it’s the princess.”

“That’s not the princess you idiot, why would she be here? Rhysand keeps her locked up tight.”

“Well, whoever she is I’m definitely taking a piece of her before I go home,”

The male who made the final comment flared his wings as if to try and get y/n’s attention.

I dropped my hands feeling a few of y/n’s lingering punches bounce off my chest before she realized what was happening.

“Hey I was doing good!” she protested, attempting to raise her weighed down hands in the air.

“Yeah that’s enough training for today,” I said tightly before sweeping her up in my arms and taking off into the air. Weighted gloves and all.

“Cass!” she shouted over the winds. “What was that about? We just started!”

“The whole camp was eye fucking you, we can train at home. I’ll bring some weights and equipment tomorrow,” I grumbled remembering the male's greedy eyes.

“You territorial Illyrian prick!” she laughed, smacking me on the chest.

“Hey cut me some slack! The mating bond is still fresh!,” I laughed and the second I said it I saw the understanding fill her eyes.

“You’re lucky you’re so handsome,” she sighed leaning her head on my shoulder.

I gave a small chuckle as we continued the short flight home. Training could start up again once we arrived at the townhouse. It would be easier to train her in private and more fun for when things got a little…well…heated.

y/n’s pov:

Today marked a day I had hoped would never come. Feyre’s wedding.

When I told my brother of the planned event he said that he was well aware of his mate's upcoming nuptials. I begged and pleaded with him to call in his bargain with her just once, just to give the female a chance to get to know him, but he refused. Even Cassian told him of the pain he felt when I married Eris. But Rhys was steadfast in letting Feyre be happy, and in the end, I let him do it, for every time I spoke her name there was a sadness in his eyes I couldn't stand to see.

“Hey,” I said quietly, stepping onto the balcony of the townhouse where Rhys stood.

Cassian sat dutifully inside waiting for his brother with a glass of whiskey. It was going to be a long night, and he had offered himself up as Rhys’ drinking buddy, an offer my brother happily took. I just wanted to speak to my brother once before Azriel took me home.

“Hey sis,” Rhys said, looking worse for wear.

As usual, his image was perfect. A perfectly tailored suit, hair set in place, a clean shave. But his eyes held all the sorrows of the world. Grief I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I realized that this is exactly how Cassian felt the day I married Eris, and in that moment my heart broke twice.

“Cassian’s inside with a couple of bottles of whiskey,” I gave him a half hearted smile wrapping an arm around him.

“That was nice of him,” Rhys grinned weakly, tugging me closer to him.

“Don’t give him too much credit he stole it from your liquor cabinet,” I laughed looking up toward my brother. I barely recognized him in this state.

“Why am I not surprised,” he said, turning toward me. “Do you and Mor have everything you need for girls' night? You have enough wine and snacks right?”

“Rhys,” I said, squeezing his hands. “You don’t always have to be so brave, you know? It’s okay to grieve. Especially with me, we promised no more walls, no more secrets.”

I saw his violet eyes begin to glass over as he took in my words. In a way I was happy he felt he could be vulnerable with me again, that he didn’t have to wear the mask with me. However, I was sad that these were the circumstances.

His arms pulled me into a tight hug and I felt his body shake ever so slightly, either in relief or in sadness. As I felt a drop on my bare shoulder I knew it was the latter and it killed me inside.

“I’m going to lose her forever. She’s my mate and I’ll never even get to hold her.” he cried, his voice breaking.

“Rhys I’m-”

“I’ll have to sit here and watch her love him for the rest of my life,” he breathed.

All I could do was hold him closer as I felt him breaking in my arms. The misery he felt echoed throughout the Illyrian mountains, and I wondered if today would be the day they finally crumbled. Before I could even try to console my brother he straightened, releasing me from his grasp and staring into the air behind me.

“What? What is it?” I asked, grasping his shoulders.

“I-It’s her. It’s Feyre.” he stumbled as if coming to a shocking realization.

“What’s wrong, is she hurt?” I panicked, willing to follow him anywhere to ensure her safety. The female wasn’t just my brother's mate, she had saved him from under the mountain, saved all of us, and saved me. I owed her my life.

“She wants to stop the wedding, she’s begging for someone to help- anyone to help.” Rhys rambled looking around him as if he was looking for some sort of sign.

“Rhys… RHYS!” I shouted finally getting his attention. “Go get her,” I pleaded with him.

Before I could get another word in he disappeared into a cloud of shadows, no doubt going to the Spring Court. Going to his mate.

To be continued…

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nostalgebraist · 11 months

Text

Pretty regularly, at work, I ask ChatGPT hundreds of slightly different questions over the course of a minute or two.

I don't type out these individual questions, of course. They're constructed mechanically, by taking documents one by one from a list, and slotting each one inside a sandwich of fixed text. Like this (not verbatim):

Here's a thing for you to read: //document goes here// Now answer question XYZ about it.

I never read through all of the responses, either. Maybe I'll read a few of them, later on, after doing some kind of statistics to the whole aggregate. But ChatGPT isn't really writing for human consumption, here. It's an industrial machine. It's generating "data," on the basis of other "data."

Often, I ask it to write out a step-by-step reasoning process before answering each question, because this has been shown to improve the quality of ChatGPT's answers. It writes me all this stuff, and I ignore all of it. It's a waste product. I only ask for it because it makes the answer after it better, on average; I have no other use for it.

The funny thing is -- despite being used in a very different, more impersonal manner -- it's still ChatGPT! It's still the same sanctimonious, eager-to-please little guy, answering all those questions.

Fifty questions at once, hundreds in a few minutes, all of it in that same, identical, somewhat annoying brand voice. Always itself, incapable of tiring.

This is all billed to my employer at a rate of roughly $0.01 per 5,000 words I send to ChatGPT, plus roughly $0.01 per 3,750 words that ChatGPT writes in response.

In other words, ChatGPT writing is so cheap, you can get 375,000 words of it for $1.

----

OpenAI decided to make this particular "little guy" very cheap and very fast, maybe in recognition of its popularity.

So now, if you want to use a language model like an industrial machine, it's the one you're most likely to use.

----

Why am I making this post?

Sometimes I read online discourse about ChatGPT, and it seems like people are overly focused on the experience of a single human talking to ChatGPT in the app.

Or, at most, the possibility of generating lots of "content" aimed at humans (SEO spam, generic emails) at the press of a button.

Many of the most promising applications of ChatGPT involve generating text that is not meant for human consumption.

They go in the other direction: they take things from the messy, human, textual world, and translate them into the simpler terms of ordinary computer programs.

Imagine you're interacting with a system -- a company, a website, a phone tree, whatever.

You say or type something.

Behind the scenes, unbeknownst to you, the system asks ChatGPT 13 different questions about the thing you just said/typed. This happens almost instantaneously and costs almost nothing.

No human being will ever see any of the words that ChatGPT wrote in response to this question. They get parsed by simple, old-fashioned computer code, and then they get discarded.

Each of ChatGPT's answers ends in a simple "yes" or "no," or a selection from a similar set of discrete options. The system uses all of this structured, "machine-readable" (in the old-fashioned sense) information to decide what to do next, in its interaction with you.

This is the kind of thing that will happen, more and more.

#ai tag

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haunting-venus · 4 months

Text

wolf in sheep's clothing ↳ jake sully x fem!omatikaya!reader

content warnings | smut ( minors dni ), predator / prey play ( but pretty mild ), oral ( m ), masturbation ( f ), dirty talk, praise, knife play if you squint, facial, accidental stimulation

word count: 3587

notes | here i am for day four of romancing pandora: predator / prey ! first time writing for the man who got me into this fandom and who doesn't love some 2009! jake. these just keep getting longer, its a blessing and a curse

na'vi dictionary | ikran — banshee ; mawey — be calm ; pa'li — direhorse ; tewng — loincloth

Jake’s breath came out in shallow pants, calves burning with exertion as he carried himself as quickly and quietly as he could through the dense foliage of the forest. It was nearing eclipse, the shine of the sun becoming dimmer through the canopies of the massive trees, the more obscured fauna already beginning to glow lightly with bioluminescent colors.

He was a bit embarrassed of how winded he was, taking a pause to put his hands above his head and inhale deep breaths. He did his best to keep in shape after his discharge, but there was only so much cardio you could do while you were planted in a wheelchair.

Luckily, his avatar was quick to build stamina, the lean body adapted to the harsh climate and terrain of the Forest Na’vi. The pads of his feet were rough and strong, thighs tight with muscle to plant himself firmly while climbing trees, lats and biceps sturdy and taut in preparation to swing across vines or scale mountainsides. It was new, weird, and ultimately awesome.

Still, all his physiological adaptations of his new form (his body, he reminded himself, this was his body now) did little to ease the burn in his chest. He’d been running for a while now, ducking down and between trees and vines in ways that his mind remembered but his body was still slowly readapting to.

It was a simple exercise, really. A test to make sure he had adapted to moving and hunting like a Na’vi rather than a Sky Person. He’d become better—learning to quiet his steps, hear the sounds of nature and the wind that could carry his scent and sound, and he was at least trying to feel the energy of the world around. Still, you had wanted to be sure before you brought him on an official hunt, to prevent him from embarrassing both you and him.

You’d begun right after lunch, riding Jake out on your ikran to the far reaches of the forest, miles from Hometree. He’d gotten a head start of about thirty minutes and directions to the general location of Hometree before you’d sent him away with a pat on the back and a knowing smirk.

The task had two rules—1) make it back to Hometree before the eclipse set fully for the night, and 2) don’t get caught.

He’s beginning to recognize the landscape surrounding Hometree, bark marked with knife symbols and stray arrows that preceded the training grounds. He couldn’t be far now.

He knew firsthand how many predators lie in the forest, and they all seemed hell-bent on getting a chunk of his tasty blue flesh, so he wasn’t eager to see one of them again. Then again, there was little in the forest that set his nerves on end more than you.

Your relationship was strange, dancing between the line of ‘absolutely hating each other’ and ‘begrudging friends due to circumstance’. It seemed like you teeteered between them each day depending on your mood or how shitty he was doing in his training.

You’d taken up the mantle of helping Jake with extra training whenever Neytiri was pulled away for her duties as tsakarem, something that was becoming more and more common with the steady invasion of the Sky Demons. You were a strong hunter, more patient than Neytiri was but also twice as demanding. You knew what you wanted done and how, and knew exactly how to get it, even if it meant keeping Jake awake all night practicing his bow stance.

There were times you looked at Jake like he was the scum that stuck to the bottom of your shoe (well, if you wore shoes), like he had single-handedly arrived to make your life difficult. Then, there were the other times. The times when you let your gaze soften as you taught him the words of your people—words like love, and hope and friendship that felt like more than just words when they passed your lips so sweetly. The times when your grip tightens on the bulge of his muscles to adjust his stance, or when your eyes linger a little too long on the exposed skin of his stomach.

It was in those times he felt his mind wander somewhere beyond the defined boundaries of your relationship, to slip into something a little softer, a little hotter. It was starting to become a problem, how ingrained your moods and touches were into the etches of his being, how he was becoming more and more certain that you wanted him just as bad.

Fuck, he could be imagining it, probably was imagining it, but it didn’t matter when you wouldn’t get out of his damn head. You were steady, and tough and so fucking sexy it made his head spin.

He couldn’t help the wandering thoughts as he trailed through the forest, body and mind exhausted from the hours he’d spent watching his every step, craning his head to every sound. His ears twitched up and out, picking up on the low hum of insects and scuffles of small game across the forest floor. He’d been antsy for a while now, the skin rising on the back of his neck and blood thumping through his veins. It felt like he was being watched, that strange dread of being small and targeted creeping up his spine.

The tackle takes him by surprise, the full weight of your body emerging from a low-hanging branch to throw him off balance. He’s a lot bigger than you, stronger too, but this was your terrain and you were definitely in control. He stumbles over vines and rocks as he tumbles back, the impact of the hard ground knocking the breath from his already exhausted lungs.

You’re able to roll off him with grace, readjusting your stance to crouch lowly over him with a mild hiss. Your knife is at his throat before he even has a chance to get his bearings.

“Dead.” Your hot breath hisses over his ear, the cool edge of your knife pressing lightly to his carotid artery.

The blood pounding in his head quickly rushes elsewhere when he’s finally able to take note of your positions. Your face is close enough he can feel your lightly heaving breaths next to his ear, your tail flicking mildly against his thigh as you hold your barely covered sex just above his own. It’s dumb and wrong and he can’t believe he is sporting a halfie right now because what the hell happened to him in life that this gets him hot?

Your gaze softens as he struggles to catch his breath, relaxing your crouch position into a sit on the area just above his loincloth, making him huff. He hopes to whatever god there is on Pandora that you take his flushed cheeks and heavy breathing as anger at being caught and not the mind-bending arousal that was flooding his system.

“You did well, Jake. Most children don’t get nearly this far on their first trial.” You lean back on his lap, knife still dangling from one hand. You clearly don’t seem too bothered with the proximity of your ass to his cock, giving him a teasing look as you praise him. He knew the Na’vi were more open with their sexuality, more casual with touching and feeling than humans but this had to be raising some kind of flags for you.

“Yeah, well, maybe if I had a better teacher…” His voice sounds strained to his own ears, desperate to move the conversation to something, anything, to distract him and get that damn sexy look off your face, like you’ve just won a prize.

Your grin is wide and teasing, easily brushing off his jab. You let your sharp-edged blade trace precariously against the skin of his stomach, voice thick in accented English. “Oh, don’t be a sore sport, Jake. I’m being nice, even though your footsteps are like thunder.”

"Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad.” He huffed, leaning a hand behind his head to catch his breath and avoid your piercing gaze.

“Oh, it was. You were moving around like a baby pa’li, just stomp, stomp, stomp.” Your giggles were relentless as you teased him, thumping your feet and tail in loud smacks to drive home your point.

Jake usually would have found it childish, just pushing you off himself and brushing off his shame. Except, your hips swayed dangerously low to the tent in his loincloth with each of your stomping movements, eventually brushing against his sensitive skin and causing heat to shoot through his stomach and up his spine.

“Fuck, don’t move, darling.” His voice was heavier than he meant it to be, his hands instinctively grasping your hips to stop you from moving any further.

Your eyes trail from the flush high on his cheeks to the twitching of his ears, a slow realization coming over your face. Your eyes dilate, tail twitching behind you as you purposefully push your hips back against the growing bulge of his cock. He lets out a groan, fingers tightening against the curve of your hips as he forces his own to stay still.

“I did this to you?” Your expression is unreadable, eyes darting over his face in question.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Jake rubs a hand over his eyes, obviously embarrassed. You tackled him, got on his lap and put a damn knife to his neck, and he popped a boner like a goddamn teenager. Grace is gonna murder him when she finds out this is what gets him finally kicked out of the village. “You just looked so pretty, and my adrenaline was going. It-it’s really natural-”

“Mawey, Jake, it is ok.” You grasp one of his hands, your fingers soft but insistent as you lead him to the dip between your legs. He looks up with questioning eyes, waiting for your permission, before dipping his fingers underneath the soft fabric. He bites his lip as he lets his fingers explore the valleys of your pussy, coming away hot and slick from your arousal.

Your eyes are still focused only on his face, moving your hips idly against his exploring touch as your breath quickens. “It is the same for me. I want you, Jake, all of you, if you will have me.”

He sits up at the waist, letting the fingers from his free hand trace along the edges of your hips and the base of your tail, relishing in the shivers you let out against his chest. He thinks for a moment he must have hit his head too hard since there was no way this strong warrior, this beautiful being so far from anything he had ever known, was offering herself to him.

Except he can feel every breath that huffs from your chest, each twitch of your thighs against his hip, each tremor that wracks your frame when his fingers roll your clit. It makes any rational thought in his head sweep away, pushing his forehead to yours to breathe in this moment.

“Yes, I want you, of course I want you.”

You reached a hand to his face and he could smell the hot musk of your arousal so strongly it made his hips twitch. He leaned his face into your hand, feeling the soft touch of your fingers before pushing his lips to yours impatiently. You sunk into his embrace as he pulled you close, chests brushing one another as you explored the feel of each other for the first time.

Your tongue slipped between your teeth, teasing the edge of Jake’s lips as you opened yourself up to him, letting the sensations of his fingers dipping into your cunt roll over you.

You’d had a few lovers before, fleeting encounters in the night throughout your life, but none had lit your skin aflame like Jake. He was different and a little forbidden, a strong man who threw himself wholeheartedly into the ways of your people and, fuck, you wanted him like no one before.

His hand trails up the length of your ribs, feeling each dip and curve of your figure as your body moves into him. You let out a shaky gasp that borders on a moan when he grips your tit, thumb moving teasingly along the stiff bud of your nipple. You’re trying so hard to keep yourself together, to be the one in control, but can feel yourself crumbling at each press of his fingers against your hot flesh.

Jake groans against your lips, keeping his thumb rubbing against your tit. “Fuck, I love that sound. Let me hear it again, sweet girl.”

“Me first.” You trail your fingers under the hem of his tewng,pulling the fabric down with a tug to the strings. Jake can see the focus of your eyes, almost grounding yourself like you’re trying to regain some sort of control over your body.

Jake’s touch made you feel like you were falling, an exhilarating and nerve-wracking loss of control that had you shaking. You let your fingers slip over the head of his cock, already wet with precum and decorated with little tanhì on the lavender skin. Jake grunts as you let your fingers slide repeatedly over the wet slit, the confident look from earlier returning to your features as you drink in the sounds he makes with each pass of your hand.

“Oh, come on, darling, let me make you feel good. I was just getting started.” His grin is wicked sharp, as dangerous and enticing as he is, his alien fingers rubbing firmly over your clit to prove his point.

“Come now, I successfully got my prey. Shouldn’t I get to reap a hunter’s reward?” Your lips are swollen as you pant the words into his mouth, moving both your hands to twist around the length of his cock. He hardly muffles a moan at the overwhelming stimulation, brows furrowed in pleasure as you let a grin sneak over your lips.

And fuck that shouldn’t make heat run through him like it does, setting his ears aflame as his hips twitch unwittingly into your grasp. Your prey. He certainly felt like it with the coy way your fingers grasped around his cock, each muscle in his body plying to the sweet friction of your touch.

He lets himself relax back against the dirt and moss of the ground, feeling a pang of need go through him at the look in your eyes as you run your fingers along him, imprinting yourself onto him, declaring him as your bounty in the depths of the woods. “God, darling, you look so pretty, wanna feel your lips on my cock so bad.”

“Being quiet was never your strength, was it?” You tease, flicking your tongue out to run along the bumps on his shaft. They glowed lightly in the dim evening, pulsing a bit as he leaked precum onto your tongue with hitched breath.

“Yeah, well, we all have our flaws.”

You hum against the shaft of his cock, vibrations making his thighs tense under you. “Not a flaw, let me hear how good I make you feel.”

With that, you wrap your lips around the darker tip of his cock, letting your mouth fall over the tip and running your tongue along the sensitive underside of his head. Jake leans up on his elbows to get a good look, pushing stray strands of hair from your face to admire how your lips stretch around him.

Your eyes are glassy as you take what you want from him desperately, tongue playing on each edge of his cock you can reach to see what has him keening into your touch. His cock is wide enough to stretch your lips, a bit of drool edging from the corner of your mouth.

His tail flicks frantically behind him, restless against the dirt ground before coiling itself around the top of your thigh. He struggles to keep his hips still, near panting as you ease your lips down his cock, taking a little more each time your head bobs. Your throat spasms a bit as you get halfway down his length, muscles tightening around his cock as you breathe heavily through your nose.

He lets out a startled grunt, brows pinched in pleasure as he looks down at you with half-lidded eyes. “Oh, shit, just like that, darling, doing so good.”

You look almost proud as you gaze up at him from between his legs, leaving one hand at the base of his cock to stroke what you can’t fit in your mouth. He vaguely notices your other hand moving between your legs.

“Fuck, are you touching yourself? All wet just from sucking my cock? Fuck, I bet it’s so pretty, all stretched out around your little fingers.”

The moan you let out reverberates up his cock and into his spine, making his fingers clench in your hair. He can hear the wet slide of your fingers now, rolling inside yourself at the same pace your mouth is falling down his cock. He wishes he could see better, the way your cunt stretches around your own touch, how you stroke yourself in the ways that make you feel the best, he wants to learn it all and ingrain it in his memory forever.

“Fuck, I wanna feel you moan on my cock when you cum, don’t stop-”

He groans as your fingers increase their pace between your legs, your body swaying with each of your thrusts into yourself, pushing your mouth back onto his cock with each movement. He can feel his resolve running thin, mouth lulling open in panting breaths as he lightly moves his hips to chase the movement of your tongue.

You breathe heavily through your nose as the pace of his hips increase, restless against the ground as you suckle hard at the head of his cock. Your moans are incessant now, high and vibrating against the sensitive skin of his tip as you ride your own high. Your eyes are glassy with tears, tightening your grip on his cock as he feels you tremble against him.

He’s still getting used to the whole idea of this Eywa thing, but fuck, the way you look on your knees has to be some kind of divine omen if he’s ever seen one.

He can barely see your body from here, the peaks of your breasts barely poking from the decorative weaving of your top, but the feeling of your hard nipples brushing against his thighs as you move against him has him reeling. He can’t help every little thought he’s had of you in that moment surface—of his cock between your tits, teasing the hard nubs until you're shaking under him, of the look on your face as you ride him relentlessly for your own pleasure, of your eyes rolling as he fucks his cum back into you.

He can feel his self-control slipping, hips inching up into your throat and causing it to spasm around him. You let him move his hips against you, looking up with teary eyes as you run short on breath. After a few strokes, you pull off his cock, panting and shaking with need.

“Jake, Jake, I-yes, yes” your grip on his cock is messy and wet, slick with his own precum and your saliva. His hips jump at the rawness of your voice, breathy and wanting just for him. It’s been a while since he’s been in the game but fuck, he knows you’re close, whining and grinding against your own fingers as you struggle to keep your hand on rhythm.

“Oh fuck, that’s it, come for me baby, I’m almost there-”

He can feel the moment you fall apart on your own fingers, breath catching as you still yourself at the head of his cock, suckling hard as your eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy. You end up easing yourself off to pant into the meat of his thigh, chest panting and fingers quivering as they work his cock.

“Cum, Jake, let me have it.” Your lips ghost over his length as you move both hands to grip tight around his cock, twisting your fingers at the base as you rub at the sensitive spot below his head. The grunt he lets out is near animalistic, hips pushing desperately up into your slick grip as he chases the edge of release.

The vibration of your voice and the haze of pleasure in your eyes has him hurtling over the edge, stars painting the blackness behind his eyes. Thick strands of cum paint your cheeks and lips, streaks of pearly white on your beautiful blue-skinned complexion.

A sense of pride and possessiveness swells in him at the sight, like he was the one who got to claim you now, covered in his scent and his seed so everyone would know just what happened in the woods. The idea of you flaunting around, a strong and capable warrior, reeking of the alien intruder as you went about his duties had the dimming heat in his loins flaring as he came down from his high.

He pants as aftershocks thrum through his muscles, exhaustion seeping into his bones as you cradle up beside him. He can vaguely feel a contented purr coming from you, tickling his ribs as he pulls you close to put his nose in your hair. “Next time, I’m the one doing the tracking.”

tags: @eywaite @tallulah477 @neteyamsoare @torukmaktoskxawng

#romancingpandora2024 #avatar 2009 #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar #jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully smut #jake sully x you #venus writes #avatar x reader

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dearbraus · 7 months

Text

When and Where, Baby ࿐

— Various Attack on Titan Characters

⊹ Details. 18+ minors dni, gn!reader, kissing, semi public car sex, shower sex, quickies, established relationships, general allusions to and discussion of sex and intimacy, needy!reader and equally as needy!characters. ⊹ Run time. 0.7k ⊹ Note. Cheeky edited reupload from my old blog since I am deep in the Aot brainrot and am in dire need to talk about them lol. Enjoy <3

Where they fuck you outside of the bedroom —

꒰ On the Couch ꒱

Movie nights with you always turn into something more. Neither of you could help the way your hands drifted, his gliding further and further up your thigh until it’s practically between your legs, and your fingers idly stroking his navel, playing with the bit of hair poking out of his waistband. It’s a silent challenge, who’s willing to make the first real move. It certainly wasn’t going to be you, no matter how badly you wanted to sink your teeth into his neck or to toss your legs over his lap, you just couldn’t. But like magnets the two of you were pulled together, a certain desperation forcing you to toss away whatever little pride you had. You never could resist, not really. Eager kisses nearly knock the wind out of you as you clamber onto his lap, just a little bit too rough as you try to strip him of all the pesky layers between the two of you.

⊱ Porco Galliard, Eren Jaeger, Colt Grice, Miche Zacharius, Zeke Jaeger, and Connie Springer.

꒰ In the Kitchen ꒱

Dinner was something that they wish to disappear from your mind for just the slightest moment, it’s been a long day without you and if you’re not pinned beneath them in the next ten minutes they might just go crazy. It’s a good thing you’ve only just put that pot to boil because that gives them a bit more room for something other than heavy petting. Cupboard knobs dig into the small of your back and hips uncomfortably but the feel of their lips on your neck is enough to distract you from the pinpricks of pain. And for just a moment the task at hand slips away from your mind because god, they make your head spin and you miss them just as much as they missed you. You need them just as badly as they need you and it isn’t until the pot boils over that you’re pulled out of your rapture and even then you hold them ever closer because you’re so close to falling apart from their fingers, you’re almost there and you couldn’t care less about dinner because you’re much more interested in getting a taste of them.

⊱ Pieck Finger, Bertholdt Hoover, Niccolo, Hange Zoë, and Sasha Braus.

꒰ In the Shower ꒱

Early mornings were always made better when they slipped into the shower with you. It was never their intent to take things further but that tiny moan you let slip began to stoke a fire deep within them. They just wanted another one more honeyed sound so they innocently let the hand that was supposed to be washing your body slip between your legs. This was how it always played out no matter how many times you swore that it would because the two of you were still half asleep. One way or another, one of you is going to end up pinned against the tile wall, head thrown back as you relished in your partner's touch. If the water hadn’t run cold the two of you could have stayed in there for hours, but a morning quickie had to be just that; quick. No matter how badly you wished to stay in there with them forever, but you had things to do and frigid water wasn’t all that enjoyable even if you just ached to be with them for a moment longer.

⊱ Levi Ackerman, Annie Leonhart, Historia Reiss, Armin Arlert, Petra Rall, and Mikasa Ackerman.

꒰ In the Car ꒱

Sometimes you just couldn’t wait until you got home. They always drove with their hand locked on your thigh, their gaze trained on the road ahead; they just looked so good, it wasn't your fault it turned you on so much. So maybe it was you who couldn’t wait, you who begged them to pull over because you needed them so badly that if they didn’t you’d have no choice but to shimmy out of your pants and give them a little show if they weren’t willing to help you out. But you never did have to resort to that, they love their needy baby and if their baby needs it bad, well then who were they to deny you. It wasn’t like you two had anywhere to be, a detour wouldn’t be so bad, not if they got to hear those pretty sounds of yours. Just try not to make it too obvious, the spot was secluded but you still didn’t want to get caught because you just couldn’t wait to get your hands on one another.

⊱ Erwin Smith, Jean Kirstein, Ymir, Hitch Dreyse, Kenny Ackerman, and Yelena.

#aot smut #snk smut #jean kirschtein smut #eren yaeger smut #armin arlet smut #levi ackerman smut #mikasa ackerman smut #sasha braus smut #porco galliard smut #ymir smut #hange zoe smut #reiner braun smut #connie springer smut #pieck finger smut #erwin smith smut #aot x reader #snk x reader

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averagewriter-inthedark · 8 days

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It’s Been A Long, Long Time 🥀 | Fallout AU P.1

Set after the events of S1 of Fallout

Masterlists | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Characters & Pairings: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x super soldier!reader (romantic), reader x male!oc (past romance), reader x Chester Phillips (past romance), Lucy Maclean (platonic)

Content warnings: Fallout x Marvel AU, profanity, angst, mentions of death, violence, age gap (reader is physically in her 40s, Cooper in his 50s, but they are both hundreds of years old), cannon divergence, suggestive themes, strangers/enemies-to-friends-to-lovers | female!reader (she/her) | wc about 6k

Premise: When Lucy and Cooper stumbled upon the remnants of an abandoned underground facility in what used to be the Nation's capital, they are quick to explore in hopes of finding supplies and information on Vault-Tec. However, the two are in for the shock of their lives when they accidentally awaken a woman housed in a cryogenic chamber, whose historical significance can be traced back to the Second World War. Not to mention she possesses a valuable substance scientists have been eager to replicate for centuries. And after traveling for months, Cooper finds himself battling emotions he kept dormant for centuries, when they form a bond only the two former soldiers could understand.

Note: Alright so idk how this happened but it was exactly it was the result of me hyperfixating on an idea for almost two weeks until I broke and had to get it out on paper (docs 💀) Enjoy!

———————

“What was it like?” Lucy’s voice breaks through the peaceful silence of the night. The moon was full and high in the sky. After a long day of traveling the group had finally made camp, exhausted from the day which involved a typical shootout with raiders and scavenging for information on Vault-Tec. Lucy’s voice was full of curiosity, her face illuminated by the fire as she ogled at the woman seated across from her. Elbows perched on her knees while leaning her chin on clasped hands. Only offering a raise of her brow to convey she heard Lucy’s question when the girl began to question if she did or not.

“You mean the war? Or life in general?” Came the reply, her transatlantic accent thick. The woman not taking her eyes off the fire to meet the girl’s eager stare. If any other lost soul in the Wasteland overheard the conversation they’d be quick to believe she was talking about the Great War.

Only….it was far from it.

“Everything,” Lucy failed at hiding her desperation, earning a warning glare from Cooper, whose ears perked up the second Lucy asked the question. The cowboy leaned against his own log off to the side of the woman. Legs crossed and hat slightly pulled down to the brim of his eyes.

This time the woman looked at Lucy. Except she didn’t so much as move her body, only shifting her eye to glance from the side. “I thought you both read my file. And watched the tapes I recorded.”

“We did,” Lucy admitted, offering a nervous smile, “But reading about history is vastly different than when you hear it first hand from someone who lived through it. When I taught the kids in my vault they always preferred watching the holotapes rather than the books that’d been preserved. And so much from the 20th century had been lost….” her words fall short at the crossed look she received from Cooper. A warning.

Heat rising to her cheeks, Lucy reiterated and in doing so began to ramble, “I-I mean I only ask if you’re comfortable with talking about it. Sorry I should’ve been more considerate--I know it’s a sensitive topic with-- I-I mean you just woke up not even two weeks ago to find 345 years have passed--,” Cooper was about five seconds from shutting the girl up with a tranq, looking at her like she’d grown two heads. “--and America is not how you left it. Oh God I’m being really insensitive--I am so sorry,” Lucy’s mouth snaps as the woman cuts her off with a tired sigh.

It’s not like the woman was upset with Lucy’s question. Aware the former vault dueller had previously been a history teacher and enjoyed learning about the pre-war era, as well as the 300+ years America once was. Curiosity was natural. But one had to accept the reality that the truth was not sunshine and rainbows.

As she contemplated the next words to say, her mind traced back ten days ago. Where she awoke to a new world…or what her companions called, a wasteland.

“Well what do we have ‘ere,” Cooper’s southern drawl rang out against the walls of the elevator as he lifted the gate up to see where it had taken him and Lucy. There he was met with what appeared to be a large room connected to a hallway that seemed to go on and on. ‘Strange,’ he thought, hand hovering over his pistol. Ready for any oncoming attack.

When he and Lucy stumbled upon the rusted elevator shaft on the surface on what used to be an old military installation--not far from Vault 108, initially they believed it to be a secret vault. One Vault-Tec kept hidden and out of the public eye for God knows what. Unethical experiments. Research. Possibly to house government officials, considering it was located in good ole Washington D.C.

Well what was left of it.

Yeah, even America’s great capital wasn’t safe from the nukes. Leveled to bits just like the rest of the country. Kinda comical when one thinks about it. Why were they there exactly? Well, the trail to Lucy’s father and the many secrets of Vault-Tec led the two on a wild goose chase. For months until they reached the east coast where they hoped to find some answers.

However, whatever this place was, was far from the typical vaults they were used to. In fact it wasn’t a vault at all.

Stepping out of the elevator shaft, the space was pitch black making it hard to see all the facility had to offer. Not to mention if any threats were lying in wait. Cooper found the switch on his right and quickly flipped it up. Light flickering as it filled up the space and down the corridor.

Cooper moved further in while Lucy trailed behind, eyes wide with wonder as she took in her surroundings, “woah.”

“Woah indeed…” he agreed, nudging his hat up to get a better look, “What the hell?” The bunker was definitely pre-war, but seriously dated to the point the man wouldn’t put it past it to be 20th century. Hardly ransacked---which probably was the biggest surprise. It made him wonder just how long it had been abandoned without discovery.

Filing cabinets lined the walls, old desktop computers. Chalk boards and typewriters. Not a trace of robots. Hell there was even a Coca-Cola vending machine. Now that was a relic. Coca-cola disappeared back in 2044 when Nuka-Cola was introduced. If Cooper thought hard enough, he could still taste the original soft drink on his tongue. A sweet sweet lick of nostalgia.

Unsure where to begin, Cooper decided to start on his right by approaching the giant mural of a six-winged eagle surrounded by 50 stars. Obviously to represent the states of America. Painted below in bold red letters, S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Shield,” he tested the word, a sense of familiarity surfacing as his brain picked at it. “Where have I heard that?” Lucy came to his side, eyes locked on the mural. Also trying to figure out what it meant.

“Could it be some type of pre-war agency?” she wondered aloud, casting a glance at Cooper. “Like the CIA or FBI? Or a subunit of Vault-Tec” She received a hum.

“Seems likely,” moving away, Cooper accessed the cabinet closest to him. Dust flinging in the air when the drawer was pulled, revealing a heap of carefully organized files. Grabbing the first one Cooper found the meaning behind the name, which took the air out of him. Now he understood why it sounded so familiar. It was something his once marine self had been briefed on when in basic training.

“What is it?” Lucy questioned his dumbstruck expression.

Shaking his head, “This ain’t the work of Vault-Tec, sweetheart,” Cooper motioned at the mural, “That ther’ anagram, it stands for the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement Logistics Division.” Passing over the file to her Cooper grabbed another. “Now I know you said yer’ some history buff, but this…..you gotta be involved in some deep shit to know about this.”

Lucy read over the document, brows furrowed, “Wait, I know about this. We learned about SHIELD in the vaults, not much but the important parts--that it was a counter-terrorism intelligence organization and a successor of the Strategic Scientific Reserve from World War Two….” her eyes widened, processing what she just said. They were in a SHIELD facility?

They continued to walk the facility, rummaging through files of former persons of interests and government officials. Lucy took interest with the photographs she found. Getting a peak of life in America during the 20th and early 21st century. Meanwhile Cooper searched for useful supplies. Hoping there’d be a knife or displaced gun.

“This is so cool,” Lucy held a sepia photo of President John F. Kennedy shaking hands with Shield co-founder Agent Peggy Carter. Beneath it was one of the Berlin Wall coming down. “I can’t believe how well these held up.” Her eyes caught a black & white picture dated in 1947 of Hollywood actresses Natalie Wood and Rita Hayworth posing with a beautiful woman who looked like she belonged with them. All smiling at the camera, but unlike the actresses the mystery woman’s smile was closed and didn’t reach her eyes. Lucy didn’t recognize her, but made a mental note to see if she could find any other information on her. Assuming she must’ve been important for the photo to end up at the SHIELD base.

Entering a room near the end of the vast hallway, an eerie feeling came over the two. So suddenly it made Lucy’s stomach take a turn, “that’s weird.” Cooper didn’t respond but internally he felt the same. Something about the room was unpleasant. But they couldn’t put a finger on it.

Unlike the other rooms, the two had to become tech whizzes to decipher the lockbox. A rather difficult task as the technology was ancient. In their research they discovered SHIELD founded in the 1950s. Then Cooper had to think back to his history lessons in basic to remember the organization disbanded in 2014. Almost ten years before Cooper was born.

“What happened,” Lucy questioned.

“Rats in the system,” Cooper put it short, but upon her confused face he explained further. “They were infiltrated, early on too, by the terrorist organization they were fighting against.”

The girl frowned, not expecting that reason and wondered just how long it had been going on. For an agency of their nature to be infiltrated by the enemy, leading to their downfall. “That’s unfortunate,” her statement earned a sound of agreement from the cowboy.

More cabinets. More files. More questions they wanted answers to.

And answers they’ll…somewhat get. In the form of a 345 year old cryogenic woman…..who was SHIELD’s lost super soldier.

Okay so it was an accident. They didn’t mean to unfreeze the woman after they stumbled upon her pod hidden beneath the floors of where the lead scientists desk laid. And no wonder it took an arm and a leg to get into the room. It was the office of the man SHIELD recruited from HYDRA.

And he harbored a major secret.

“Well what should we do in the meantime?” Lucy felt uneasy, staring at the pod which was in the process of defrosting. Frightened at what waited for them. If she had been asleep for as long as the person inside and woke up to a world blown to bits, Lucy’d have a meltdown. The thought alone combined with the icy temperature filling the room caused chills to rise on her arms.

“Don’t know. Maybe try and find out who the hell this is,” Cooper suggested, moving away from the pod to see what he could find. Staring with the scientists' desk, thinking it’d be the key.

Leaning over to peer into the window, noticing the ice had slowly started to melt, Lucy’s eyes widened. “Holy moly! She’s the woman from the photo!”

“What photo?” Cooper glanced up, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Lucy made a motion with her hand, “I saw a photo in the other room of a woman standing with Natalie Wood and Rita Hayworth, but I couldn’t recognize her.” She pointed to the pod, face riddled with shock. “It’s her! She’s the mystery woman in the photo.” Suddenly Lucy realized something, “That was dated 1947…..”

Cooper caught on to what she was saying. Moving hastily to pull out files from the drawers and handing her a stack, “Well let’s try to find more about our frozen popsicle.” They got work, Lucy perching herself on the desk while Cooper remained crouching on the floor. Reading for what felt like hours of decades worth of information the scientist had on SHIELD and HYDRA. Playing the waiting game while the woman defrosted from her pod.

“How long will it take?” Lucy plopped another file on the floor after finishing it, moving to the next.

“Not sure,” Cooper licked his lip to turn a page, reading about the assassination of a political figure SHIELD investigated. “Could be minutes. Could be hours. Once that thing warms up, who knows how long before she wakes.”

“What a surprise she’s in for.” Cooper grumbled in agreement, making Lucy frown, deep in thought. “How do you think she’ll react?” Now usually Cooper would’ve told her enough with the questions, but he was plagued with the same thought.

How would she react? They didn’t know anything about the woman except she’d been asleep for at least 300+ years. Truthfully Cooper was expecting her to lash out. It would be the most reasonable reaction to the horrifying truth. Either that or breakdown in a heap of tears. Honestly, maybe she’ll do both.

“I don’t know, vaultie. What would you do?” That made her fall silent which he was hoping for. The two return their focus back to the files. Losing hope by the second of finding the mysterious woman. There had to be something on her in the stack. After all, she was in a cryo pod hidden in the floor. Of a mad scientist.

About five minutes later Lucy’s amplified gasp nearly had Cooper jump, turning to find her shell-shocked at whatever lay within the file she was holding. “What is it, 33?”

“Cooper this--this doesn’t make sense,” Lucy’s eyes read furiously over the papers, astonishment in her face. Refusing to believe what the file was telling her. But the picture was clear as day. Matching the face in the pod.

Cooper looked at her wearily, “What is it, vaultie?”

She looked like she’d seen a ghost. “The woman in the pod,” she held the file out, still in disbelief. Lucy’s mind raced with a million questions, fearful of the answers as she pushed the papers to him, “This is her.”

Snatching the file, Cooper gave the girl an odd once over before drawing his gaze down on the file. There he saw what she was referring to. Eyes landing first on the sepia photograph stapled on the front. It was the first time Cooper was seeing the woman since he hadn’t seen the picture Lucy mentioned earlier and was already occupied with the desk to look in the pods window.

She was beautiful. Ethereal. A timeless beauty like many women of the 1900s with a face people would kill for. In the photo she was posing with her right shoulder out, dressed in a crisp Army uniform, Captain ranks--which Cooper recognized and gave an impressed whistle under his breath--reflecting the light of the camera flash. Hair curled typical for the time, classy makeup. The man would be lying if he said he wouldn’t do a double take in the streets if he saw her walking down.

Then Cooper got to reading, hairless brows raising to his scarred skull and he swore his heart stopped. “Ain’t no fuckin’ way.”

There it was clear as day.

S.H.I.E.L.D. File #0002

Project Rebirth -- Subject xxxx-xxxx

Name: Dr. Y/n M/n Andrews (neé L/n) DOB: XX X 1908 SSN: xxx-xx-xxxx

Birthplace: Manhattan, New York, USA Document Citizenship: United States

Education: Doctorate of Physics, Massachusetts Institute of Technology

Title: Advisor, Agent (formerly), soldier (formerly) Alias: Eagle

Rank: First Officer (WAAC); Captain (U.S Army)

Clearance: Level 10

Family: Captain Timothy Nile Andrews (husband--m.1933/deceased--d.1944)

Beatrice E. Andrews (daughter--b.1935), Henry T. Andrews (son--b.1939), Charlene L. Phillips (daughter--b.1949)

Howard A. Stark (Cousin)

Language(s): English, Spanish, German, Italian, Russian

Affiliation(s): MIT, Stark Industries, Strategic Scientific Reserve, United States Army, WAAC 107th Infantry Regiment, Howling Commandos, Steve Rogers--Captain America

Wars/Battles: Second World War

Cooper whistled, reading over the first page one more time before moving onto the next. A beauty and brains with a fighting heart. She was a soldier, a pretty damn good one at that with all her career accomplishments with the Army and World War Two. A genius by the looks of her contributions to physics prior to the war.

Presidential Medal of Honor. Key to the City of Manhattan. Honorary Advisor of MIT’s Department of Physics. Contributor on many research articles and projects, including the Project Rebirth Cooper saw on the first page. His brows furrowed at the part where it said Y/n was also a Co-founder of SHIELD.

Now if that was true, then why was the woman trapped in a cryo pod? From the file alone Cooper could tell she was an important figure in American history. What had she done to earn her a one way ticket to frozen land?

Cooper’s hand stilled in the air after turning to the final page of Y/n’s file, the header in bold: Advancements to physiology following fusion of the Super Soldier Serum. “What the fuck?”

Description: After a successful transformation of implementing the Super Soldier Serum created by Dr. Erskine into the subject’s biological makeup, Dr. L/n-Andrews physiological improvements have exceeded expectations--in accordance with the results seen from Subject #0001, Steve Rogers. Dr. L/n-Andrews psychological responses lack abnormalities, cognition skills are excellent. IQ remains in the 160-179 range. Subjects’ blood tests show changes in DNA--more tests shall be conducted for further analysis.

Attributes/Skills--before serum: Strategy, marksmanship, logistics, leadership, tradecraft, hand-to-hand combat

Attributes/Skills--after serum: Superhuman strength, enhanced agility, accelerated healing, slowed aging, enhanced immune system.

Security threat level: high (dated 08/15/1951)

Cooper read over the file a second time. Not just to render his disbelief but also commit it to memory. He’d seen a lot of shit in his elongated life, but never did he expect he’d be dealing with a real life runaway supersoldier.

More like a superhero.

“Cooper, what does this mean?” Lucy’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. The man glanced to find her chewing on her fingernails, anxiety all over her face.

“It means we’ve just woken up a superhuman from World War II, vaultie. Plain as day.” He kept his own concerns hidden, not willing to worry Lucy further. They’ll deal with the potential threat once she wakes up.

Until then, they wait.

During their search to find more on Dr. Y/n L/n-Andrews, they hit the jackpot when Cooper stumbled on a dusty box full of video tapes. Not holotapes that have been the standard since 2063. Video. Thankfully there was an old 20th century TV equipped with a VHS system. Talk about old school.

Popping one in, labeled CA & EG Ad ‘42, Cooper claimed the seat in front of the desk while Lucy stayed in her spot. After a few seconds to allow the dinosaur television to turn on, black and white static filled the screen. Then a moment later the image became clear showing two figures they now had names to faces. Y/n L/n-Andrews & Steve Rogers.

“Hello, America I’m Steve Rogers,” the blonde man waved, decked in his Captain America suit. Cooper made a face, not really impressed with the man attempting to be America’s sweetheart.

Well to be fair he definitely fit the image.

“And I’m Y/n Andrews,” the beautiful woman beamed, pearly white teeth flashing the camera. She had a strong transatlantic accent, popular of their time and heard amongst those in entertainment and high class society. A dialect teetering on the edge of half-British and half-American. Where basically the letter ‘r’ was nonexistent and vowels were elongated to make words sound more posh. Her outfit was similar to Steve’s in the sense it was obviously a tactical suit, but where his resembled the American flag, Y/n’s had the image of an eagle. “You may recognize us from the occasional radio infomercial or have seen our faces in your local recruiting office.”

Steve pointed to the camera, “And we’re here to tell you that America needs all the help across the pond. Whether it be donating to the Red Cross or enlisting in the Army to become a proud soldier--.”

“Don’t forget the Army Nurses Corps, Steve,” Y/n gently cut him off, still smiling and Cooper wondered if she was in pain. Relating to all the times he had to do those damn Vault-Tec ads. “They’re looking for determined, bright, exceptional ladies ready to provide our boys on the frontlines with the best care.”

“That’s right, Y/n,” Steve agreed, grinning at her briefly. The advertisement was the typical propaganda one sees during a war. Hiding the horrors, trying to get people to sign their life away to fight in something they didn’t ask for. Cooper heard it all.

And as a former soldier and spokesperson, the bounty hunter picked up on how uncomfortable Y/n was, despite trying to hide it. Acting most definitely not her forte. The smile not reaching her eyes as well as her posture being tense. At times Cooper caught her looking past the camera where her face shifted before replacing it with the fake expression. Her demeanor screamed she wanted to be rescued. Like she’d rather get her hands dirty than being a showgirl for the American people.

Lucy scanned through the box of tapes, reading over the labels until deciding on the one marked, Debrief--Phillips, Andrews, Stark, & Carter, ‘45. What caught her attention was the first name, Phillips, it was the same last name of Y/n’s third child listed on the file. Then there was Stark, the name of her cousin. “The Second World War ended what year?”

“Nineteen-forty-five.”

“Hmmm,” Lucy pressed play on the tv once the tape was in, moving back to her seat, but not before checking the pod. The ice had completely froze but Y/n had yet to wake up. The clock was ticking and Lucy grew nervous. Placing her attention back on the screen, “This has all the names of the people that founded SHIELD.” Cooper’s interest perked, the man straightening in the chair. Ready to put faces to names.

“Why are you video taping this, Stark?” Peeking through the static, a feminine British voice was heard off screen sounding distressed and emotional. The camera focused on a table, where the two spotted Y/n seated while an older man in an army uniform stood beside her. Y/n appeared exhausted while the man nursed a drink. Then another woman in uniform, the one they believed had been speaking off screen, emerged and poured herself a glass of whatever the group was drinking.

“So we have this on record,” a man’s voice, Howard Stark, entered. And based on the way the picture went wobbly, he must’ve been behind the video recorder. Adjusting the device so it remained focused on the table. Once satisfied he took his place beside the older man. Based on his ranks Cooper deemed him to be a Colonel. “Lighten up, Carter.”

“Do not tell her to lighten up,” Y/n’s tone was hard, lifting her gaze from the table to glare at her cousin before returning it. “Steve was your friend, Howard, have some respect.”

Lucy’s hand raised to her chest, right where she felt her heart sink. Overcome with a wave of sadness for the group who’d been deeply affected by what had transpired before recording the tape. Cooper understood the implication. Steve was gone.

Another detail the cowboy pieced together was the fact the older man, the Colonel, had to have been the Phillips the tape label referred to. Now that Cater was revealed to be the woman and Howard was indeed Y/n’s cousin. Meaning the Colonel was the father of Y/n’s youngest daughter.

‘Now that’s a surprise,’ Cooper thought to himself, and based on the stunned look of his companion, Lucy thought so too. He had to have at least 20 years on Y/n.

“You don’t need to remind me,” Howard gruffed, reaching for the bottle and slamming it down roughly once his drink was poured. “But we’ve got important matters at stake right now. And we’d be letting him down--after what he sacrificed--if we waste our time wallowing instead of getting to work.”

“What important matters could you possibly be referring to?”

“You know what,” this time the Colonel spoke, his deep voice radiating off the screen. His words caused Y/n to stiffen, slowly looking up to find him staring at her with a serious expression. “And if we don’t act fast now the feds are going to be on our doorstep quicker than a hot turkey on Thanksgiving day.”

Agent Carter's face turned dark, standing close to Y/n to lay a protective hand on her shoulder, “I think this conversation can wait, Chester. The war just ended, Y/n is still grieving her loss and--.”

“I’m well aware and while I share her grief, I’ve got Senators calling with demands of what ought to happen now that America's super soldier is gone! We need a plan to keep them distracted.” The rest of the video mostly consisted of the group arguing with neither Lucy or Cooper able to grasp what exactly the soldiers were trying to exactly hide from the government. But based on the body language of everyone, the cowboy leading theory pointed at the doctor, and the serum coursing in her veins.

During their watch of Y/n giving a solo advertisement to recruit women to the Women’s Army Corps from 1942, they hadn’t realized how much time had passed. And although not an actress in her own light, Cooper felt himself drawn to the woman on the screen. She was enticing. The type of woman people both admired and envied.

And with a sunken heart, Cooper related to her now more than ever.

On their sixth tape, and evidently their last one, the duo were rather unnerved by the title. Sharing a look as Lucy took the initiative to place it in the system.

House Committee Hearing ‘50

Lucy bit at her nails again, the skin red and irritated as she took her seat. A sickening feeling in her stomach. The anxiety was becoming unbearable, but they still had no clue when Y/n would wake up. Really they needed to form a plan, but they were too immersed in learning the woman’s history.

“For the record today’s date is Monday the tenth of April, nineteen fifty and it is the first day of the congressional hearings on the matters of Strategic Scientific Reserve’s suspected authorization of the Super Soldier Serum on Dr. Y/n Andrews.”

Well things just got interesting. Cooper and Lucy now certain this hearing was what Chester referred to in the debrief tape. Congress had finally summoned them in regards to Y/n’s nature.

The screen showed a man in a suit and rounded glasses seated in front of a microphone with a stack of papers. A marker reading Senator Bures placed directly in front of the mic. Other suited men sat around him with the American flag draped on the wall behind the chamber. Then the image flickered to a table. Y/n sat in between Chester and a man with a briefcase, who Cooper instantly registered as a lawyer. A gallery of people and photographers filled the space, Peggy and Howard in the front row.

“Please state your name for the record.” The soldiers obliged and were then instructed to swear under oath. Cooper leaned forward, finger on his lips as he watched Y/n place her hand on the bible and repeat the words spoken to her. Deeply interesting on what the hearing would entail. One thing was clear: the government was threatened by Y/n.

After some introduction questions, mostly directed to Chester and the beginning states of Project Rebirth, the attention turned to Y/n. “Dr. Andrews,” Senator Johnson spoke into his mic. “What was your initial involvement in Project Rebirth.”

Y/n leaned towards her own mic, hands clasped on the table. “I was a collaborator on the project alongside Dr. Erskine. As Colonel Phillips stated, he recruited my cousin and I in 1942 and I worked closely with Dr. Erskine because of my work on radiation physics.” Cooper and Lucy shared another glance. Y/n specialized in radiation physics?

“How exactly does radiation physics play into the serum, Doctor?”

“We were working with particles, Senator. Particles with high speed energy and electromagnetic waves,” her tone was calm, neutral. Not given any indication she was under pressure and reporting like the scientist she was. “Dr. Erskine’s serum was, at its core, radioactive. It completely changed the biological makeup of the recipient. In our case, Captain Rogers. My role was to observe and record the effects of the serum on the human body. Specifically the level of radiation.”

They asked a few more questions about Y/n’s work. Including her reports on the serum and its effect on Steve Rogers. Then it got to the whole reason they were having the hearing; did Y/n inject herself with the serum?

Now Lucy and Cooper obviously knew the truth. She was a supersoldier and fought on the frontlines. The file didn’t lie. The question was if the government knew as well. And by the looks of it, they didn’t.

“Doctor, we have reason to believe you and members of the SSR conducted an unauthorized demonstration in which you, Dr. Andrews, underwent the transformation of injecting the super soldier into your bloodstream on the 22nd of August 1943.” Murmurs in the background suggested the audience were hearing it for the first time. Minus of course Howard and Peggy, who visibly stiffened behind Y/n.

Y/I head tilted up in defiance, “Your evidence?” Her voice was strong, confident. Cooper felt himself captivated by the way she commanded the room.

“Doctor,” Senator Franz, removed his glasses. “It was reported all remaining vials of the super soldier serum were destroyed following Mr. Rogers demonstration.”

“That is correct.”

“A witness, who wishes to remain anonymous, has come forward saying that on the 22nd of August 1943, you, your late husband Captain Timothy Andrews, Colonel Phililps, Captain Rogers, Agent Carter, and Mr. Stark were seen in a restricted area for approximately three hours. They say you were carrying a briefcase and upon leaving the restricted area, your physicality had changed. Care to explain?”

Y/n, again, was neutral, “To put it simply, Senator, we were having a meeting discussing Captain Rogers and I’s unit, the Howling Commandos. In the briefcase were maps and strategy plans to analyze. Nothing more, so I do not understand why this witness has assumed we even possessed a vial of the serum when all were destroyed in 1942.”

The men didn’t look convinced, “That’s what we want to know. And it is not only this witness, Doctor, several soldiers who were on the frontlines claim you displayed unusual strength at times.”

“Well forgive me for saying this,” she was now smiling, but it wasn’t genuine at all, “but men refuse to believe women are capable of certain areas, strength for example, that are expected of them. It’s already enough for my intellect to be questioned,” Straightening her posture, Y/n went on to say, “Gentlemen, I was not only a doctor for the SSR, I was also a soldier. Therefore I trained like one--which my late husband and Captain Rogers were kind enough to assist me with. What that witness saw was my progress.” Cooper couldn’t help the amazed laugh that slipped out.

“Is she…” Lucy pointed to the screen, also astonished, “gaslighting the government?”

“She damn sure is,” Cooper laughed again. The balls this woman had rivaled some of the producers and agents he’d worked with in Hollywood.

As the tape rolled on more back and forth happened between Y/n and the senators. They’d attempt to invalidate her story, she’d rebuff with the perfect response. Dismissing their claims and providing evidence of her own to counter it. Chester and the lawyer were asked questions as well, backing up Y/n which strengthened their side.

It was a heated debate. One that lasted nearly an hour and had started to run its course. Congress was starting to lose the upper hand. And the defense was becoming exhausted.

“Before we adjourn this hearing there is one last thing I have to say,” the room was eerily silent, the senators voice carrying throughout the space. Cooper saw the frustration in his face. Wondering where the hell he and his fellow chamber members got it all wrong. “We may not have all the evidence to convict you and the rest of SHIELD’s founders of anything today, but make no mistake,” His glare was stern, threatening. “We will be watching. And if we find the slightest confirmation, Doctor, that you are carrying the super soldier serum, you will be locked in a military prison for the rest of your life and subjected to experimentation.”

Y/n remained quiet, the threat lingering in the room as her gaze never wavered from the man. Movement from the side indicated Chester likely placing a hand on the woman, offering a comforting hand. “Understood,” the tone in her voice was impartial. “You may have your suspicions and conduct your investigations, but the truth of what took place in August of 1942 was laid before you today. America had their super soldier and he sacrificed himself to put an end to Hydra once and for all. My role was nothing more than a doctor devoted to research, and a soldier committed to ending the war. I assure you, Senators,” her eyes were full of fire, chin high with confidence. Refusing to let the men hold power over the situation. It was a chilling sight, sending a shiver down Cooper’s spine, “The super soldier serum died with Captain Rogers.”

Closing remarks were given and they were dismissed shortly after. By the time the static rolled, signaling the end of the tape, Cooper and Lucy were at a loss for words. Both in disbelief, and turning to each other with matching horrified expressions. Asking themselves the same question.

Did the government find out it was all a lie? Is that why she was in the pod--to be a science experiment for the rest of her life?

The theory made sense. A terrifying one that had a pit of disgust forming in the duo, but not surprising at the same time considering the government proved time and time again they were cruel.

Well people in power in general. Take Vault-Tec for example. Who accumulated so much power they blew up America.

Lucy went to remove the tape, throwing it back in the pile before turning back to Cooper to figure out their options now they were dealing with not only a super soldier, but possibly a former government fugitive who underwent God knows what in her captivity.

But before she even got a word out, Lucy became frighteningly still, eyes bulging from their sockets. The color drained in her face as she looked past Cooper’s shoulder, a choked sound leaving her mouth while it went slack. And before Cooper could ask the reason for her sudden behavior, a new voice entered the picture, causing the already chill atmosphere to become icy.

“Who the hell are you people?”

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