#they can ONLY do that at night because that's the safest time to be out and about | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ellemj · 2 months

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Look At Me

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Request by @daddy-bucky: one bed trope "with a bit (LOTS & LOTS) of breeding kink."

Summary: Bucky gets exposed to a chemical compound that heightens his already above-average sense of smell. Then he's stuck sharing a bed with the girl he's nearly fucked on more than one occasion.

Warnings: profanity, dubcon (noncon? if you look too close?), slight thigh fucking, unprotected sex, somnophilia, heavy breeding kink, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: This one took me a few days because I got a bit of writer's block around the time the smut started. Thanks to @daddy-bucky for this unhinged request, specifically for the part where you requested that he be feral, apologizing but can't stop himself, and for mentioning that he can smell her ovulating. You are unhinged and I love it.

There are worse things than a mission going sideways. There are worse things than being stuck in a safehouse overnight. There are even worse things than being hunted down by a few thugs from a HYDRA offshoot. But you’re sure that there isn’t anything worse than being shut in with a man that you’ve nearly slept with on more than one occasion.

You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, splashing cold water on your face as you try to come up with a way to make it through the night. You’re a four-hour drive away from the compound, and a five-hour drive away from the nearest SHIELD base. The safest option you had was to head to the closest safehouse and tuck in until morning, with a handful of modern-day HYDRA operatives hot on your heels. You start toweling your face dry and running through all of the mistakes that were made today.

The first mistake was believing that the intel you received about the new HYDRA facility was accurate, without doing the recon yourself. You were told that the facility is empty three days a week, only in operation from Monday through Thursday. That’s why you and Bucky staged your break-in for today, a Friday. Your second mistake was letting Bucky follow you into the lab, instead of having him stay at the door and keep watch. You don’t know what possessed him to take his own look around, to start reading the labels on the various vials located in glass refrigeration units and on benchtops throughout the room. Your third mistake was tucking your gun into your thigh holster while you searched through the lab’s computer, looking for the identification number of one specific compound that you were sent to retrieve. If you hadn’t holstered your gun, you wouldn’t have been caught off guard when a night guard came bursting through the door, pointing his weapon right between your eyes. If you hadn’t holstered your gun, you would’ve been able to shoot the guy yourself. Bucky wouldn’t have shoved you hard enough to send you crashing into one of the little glass refrigeration units in an attempt to get you out of the line of fire, before killing the guy himself. The shot leaving Bucky’s gun didn’t even register in your mind as you watched the glass door shatter and the vials inside shake around on the shelves. As you steadied yourself and shot Bucky an annoyed look, you didn’t notice the vial full of pale pink liquid was the only one that had broken and spilled.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked gruffly, grabbing you by the forearm and pulling you away from the broken glass. You nodded quickly, feeling perfectly fine after being seconds away from having either a bullet in your head or shards of glass in your skin.

“I’m fine, just help me find the vial labeled 012-6A, so we can get out of here.” You double-checked the ID number on the computer screen one last time as Bucky stepped around you and began rifling through the refrigeration unit that you’d just been shoved into.

Bucky wouldn’t have known that he inhaled enough manganese to cause hyperosmia. He noticed the pink liquid spread over the surface of one of the shelves as he stepped in close and read over the various labels on the vials that were still intact, but he assumed you’d already seen the spill and since you didn’t mention it, it must not have been a big deal. In truth, even if you’d seen it and been able to properly identify it as a manganese compound, you would’ve written it off as being a minor incident. You’d have to be continuously exposed to it, inhaling large quantities of it over time to really be in any sort of major danger. A little sniff in a lab accident wouldn’t send either one of you to the hospital.

However, one of the known side effects of inhaling manganese is significantly increased olfactory perception, or to put it plainly: a heightened sense of smell. You might be able to smell the cleaners used on the lab floors or the wet dirt stuck in the treads of your tactical boots, if you’d inhaled the manganese. But Bucky, already having a heightened sense of smell from the super soldier serum coursing through his veins, would soon be able to smell everything.

After finding vial 012-6A, the two of you were tailed from the moment you left the compound until Bucky started weaving in and out of traffic, doing everything he could to shake the tail. You notified Fury and Sam of the situation and within minutes, you had an address to a safehouse and were on your way.

Bucky carefully folds out the couch bed, watching the thin mattress unfurl before him. It might just be the most uncomfortable looking bed he’s ever seen, but it’s not like he ever sleeps much anyway. You, however, are in for a rough night. Before you went to shower, you found a set of sheets and a quilt tucked away in a closet and set them out. Bucky begins making the bed but something isn’t quite right. As he lays the flat sheet over the fitted one and begins tucking the corners at the foot of the mattress, he starts to wonder why the he can smell the metal springs beneath. The metallic scent is strong, as if he’s pressed his nose right against the springs and inhaled as hard as he could. He stands up straight and sniffs the air, instantly overwhelmed by the plethora of smells circulating in the air. What the hell is going on?

When you emerge from the bathroom a moment later, you find Bucky standing in the middle of the tiny house, running a hand through his hair and looking a bit bewildered.

“Bucky?” You call his name softly, slowly crossing the room and eyeing the bed that he’s made up for you both. He keeps his gaze trained on the floor, not even acknowledging your presence. “Bucky, what’s going on?” You try again.

“Everything smells really strong.” He answers dryly, still not looking up at you. You narrow your eyes at him and start scanning his features, looking for any clues as to what might be going on.

“What do you mean? Don’t things always smell really strong to you?”

“Not like this, this is…I can smell your shampoo.” He says. His blue eyes flit up, meeting your gaze and holding it.

“What did you touch in the lab?” You ask suddenly, already leaping into action. You sit on the side of the couch bed and reach for your bag that sits on the floor, dragging it over to your feet. You rummage around for your laptop, fishing it out as soon as it hits your fingertips.

“I didn’t touch anything.” Bucky promises, shaking his head. He takes a couple of steps back, away from the bed, as if he can’t stand the smell of your shampoo or whatever else he smells on you. You begin typing quickly, working to open a secure video call line to Bruce Banner. “There was a spill, in that fridge I pushed you into.” He remembers, recalling the liquid that was spread over the shelf.

“Did you breathe it in?” You cast him a glance over your shoulder as you sit and wait for Bruce to join the video call.

“No, I mean, I don’t know. There wasn’t an odor, it didn’t feel like I breathed anything in.”

“What color was it?” You ask, already narrowing down the list of chemicals in your head based on the fact that it was odorless.

“Pink, clear.” Bucky answers. He’s rubbing the back of his neck as you wrack your brain. Pink, clear, odorless, hyperosmia-inducing. You have a theory, but you need Bruce to confirm. Your shoulders relax as your mind begins to realize that the chances of the chemical having been life-threatening are very low. There aren’t very many chemicals out there that are known to cause hyperosmia, and the ones that do are really only dangerous in large amounts. Bruce’s face appears on your laptop screen and relief washes over you.

“Hey, I have a few questions for you.” You say kindly, smiling at the scientist that you’ve grown familiar with. Bruce smiles back at you and Bucky catches himself narrowing his eyes and wondering how close the two of you actually are.

“Shoot.”

“There was a spill in the lab, Bucky may have inhaled something odorless, a pink aqueous solution. It’s causing hyperosmia, he says he can smell my shampoo from across the room.”

“More than his usual hyperosmia?” Bruce questions thoughtfully.

“Yes.” You and Bucky both respond in unison. You look over your shoulder at him again and notice how uneasy he looks, how he’s being sure to keep his distance from you. “I’m thinking it’s some sort of manganese compound.” You guess, turning your attention back to Bruce.

“You’re probably right. Just be on the lookout for any symptoms that would suggest otherwise, but if it was a small spill and he only inhaled a minimal amount of vapor from it, I wouldn’t be too concerned. The only worry I would have would be not knowing how manganese might react with the serum, but I can do some research on it and let you know what I find.” Bruce pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and crosses his arms over his chest.

“That’s what I was thinking. We’ll let you know if anything else develops, just send me whatever you find.” After a few more exchanges between the two of you, you end the call and shove your laptop back into your bag. Bucky remains across the room, watching you carefully, like he’s afraid to get too close.

What you don’t know, is that Bucky can’t just smell your shampoo. He can smell you. Your hair, your skin, your everything. You leave him be and head to the tiny kitchen connected to the living room, in search of a glass of water. Bucky inhales deeply through his mouth, trying to avoid smelling anything, but your scent lingers in the air and it’s suffocating. He’s going to have to sleep in the car just to get away from it.

---

“Bucky, you’re not sleeping in the damn car and neither am I. There’s a reason we’re stuck in this safehouse, we’re staying put.” Your tone is stern as you stand blocking the door. Bucky sighs heavily. He knows he could easily move you out of his way, but he also knows he’s treading dangerous waters already. The two of you have always had an indescribable tension, a palpable energy between you. One drunken night a month ago, you nearly fucked. You were drunk, he wasn’t, but he might as well have been with the way he lost his self-control when you leaned into him and rested your hands against his abs. The heated makeout session that ensued was electric, with your back pushed up against a wall in whatever bar the team had been hanging out in that night. The only reason you didn’t go through with it was because the grating sound of John Walker’s voice echoed down the dimly lit back hall right before he turned the corner and saw you pushing Bucky away. Only a week after that, Bucky caught you staring him down in the gym, clearly enjoying the sight of him shirtless and sweating as he threw punches at the bag. An hour later he had your lips against his in the elevator, desperately kissing and licking as much of the skin of your jaw and neck as he could before the elevator reached the main living floor. He would’ve taken you right there if the elevator was any slower. The third and final time was a week and a half ago, when, during an undercover mission, you both seemed to have trouble keeping your hands off of each other. Your covers gave you an excuse to be a little handsy, but continuing to be handsy the entire drive back to the compound wasn’t quite so excused. You were so distracted that you didn’t notice the car following you, not until Redwing picked up on it and Sam alerted you both. That was the night you both decided to stop whatever it was that was going on between you. It was dangerous and addictive and it only served as a distraction in the field. So, you stopped it before it ever truly began.

Bucky moves around to the opposite side of the bed, shooting you a moody look before tugging his shirt off and baring his chest. Your eyes drift down to the dog tags that hang around his neck as he starts pushing his pants down his legs. Suddenly he’s standing there wearing nothing but boxers and dog tags, and your mouth is damn near watering.

“You’re sleeping in that?” You ask incredulously, gesturing at his distinct lack of clothing. Bucky chuckles and pulls the sheet and quilt back, sliding under the covers with ease. The thin mattress curves down to support his weight and the springs creak loudly.

“You’re sleeping in that, so you can’t complain.” He mimics your gesture as he refers to your oversized t-shirt and lack of pants. It isn’t your fault. You didn’t have much in your bag, this was never supposed to be an overnight trip. You sigh as you sit on your own side of the bed, turning your back to Bucky. He turns off the lamp beside the couch and the room is cast into darkness.

While you’re sitting on the side of the bed, reminding yourself why the two of you decided to leave each other alone, Bucky’s lying on his back, breathing through his mouth. He can still smell you. The vanilla scent of your shampoo makes him want to bury his face in your hair and inhale as deeply as he possibly can, it smells so fucking sweet.

An hour later, you’re sound asleep next to Bucky, with your back facing him and the sound of your soft, steady breathing filling the quiet space. Every single minute that’s gone by since you slid under the covers next to him has be spent actively trying to ignore the smells in the air. First, all he really noticed was your shampoo. After fifteen minutes of lying next to you, he could smell the lotion you put on your legs that morning. Ten minutes later, he was ready to bust down the damn door to get to the car. He could smell you. Something so distinctive, something that was sending his entire body into overdrive with every breath he inhaled.

Now Bucky lies there, clenching his jaw and covering his face with both hands in an attempt to stifle the scent that he’s trying to pretend isn’t there. He’d have already gotten out of the bed and locked himself in the bathroom, the closet, or even a fucking kitchen cupboard if the bed springs weren’t so damn loud. He can’t make a move that big without waking you up, so he remains frozen. It’s not until Bucky hears you whimper in your sleep that he pulls his hands away from his face and turns his head to look in your direction. Though the scent of your unconscious arousal is affecting him so strongly, the sound you made momentarily redirects some of the bloodflow away from his cock, toward his head. The tone to your whimper was fearful. It escapes your lips again and Bucky watches as you begin to shake beside him. Fuck. Of course you have nightmares. You’re so similar in so many other ways, he should’ve assumed you were plagued the same way that he is.

As your eyes dart back and forth rapidly beneath your closed eyelids, your breathing quickens more and more until your body begins to feel deprived of oxygen. That’s when you wake up, gasping for air, in full fight-or-flight mode. You’re on your side, grasping the quilt in your left hand and desperately searching the darkness around you for anything familiar.

Without thinking, Bucky rolls onto his side and slides his vibranium hand over your hip. Though he can’t feel it, your shirt has ridden up above your thighs and his hand lands partially on the waistband of your panties and partially on your skin. You tense at his touch initially, still trying to figure out where the hell you are, but that touch is something familiar. Your mind latches onto it, and suddenly you’re remembering the last three times you felt it. Vibranium against your skin, his lips on yours, every nerve ending in your body firing at the same time. It’s familiar, so familiar that you relax after a couple of seconds and lean back. Your back brushes against his chest and his grip on your hip tightens a barely noticeable amount as he realizes you’re moving. He doesn’t want you to move back too far and find out that he has a full-blown erection while you’re recovering from a nightmare, but he also doesn’t want to stop you from finding comfort.

“You’re safe.” He whispers close to your ear, taking in the scent of your shampoo once again. His eyes close as the vanilla temporarily covers up the smell that’s been driving him insane for the past hour. “We’re in a safehouse.” He assures you. Your breathing begins to slow and your shaking limbs calm as you move your left hand. You release your grip on the sheets and slide it beneath the covers, running your palm over the crevices of his vibranium hand. So familiar.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” You apologize softly, taking in a shaky breath and flattening your hand over his metal one.

“I wasn’t asleep.” Though you know how he operates in the field, how he likes to be kissed, how infuriating he can be when he insists on doing things his way, you don’t know much about his sleeping habits…or lack thereof. Suddenly, the evening’s mission comes flooding back into your mind. You remember him being exposed to something and experiencing hyperosmia, with you and Bruce only being able to speculate about the chemical he inhaled. You make a move to look over your shoulder at him and when you do, your body almost enough to let your ass make contact with his crotch. He squeezes your hip so hard that you almost peel his vibranium fingers off of you.

“Shit, Bucky.” You speak through clenched teeth as he holds you firmly in place against the mattress. “What are you—”

“Don’t move.” He groans. The tone of his voice is one you’ve heard once before, when you were licking and sucking the skin along the column of his throat in the elevator that day. Instead of listening to his clear command, you try to wiggle an inch or two away from him, as if that would help the situation, but it only makes Bucky’s problem more obvious. His hard cock is straining against the fabric of his black boxers, and as you move your hips once again, it brushes against your ass and you feel it. You feel it and you freeze. “Fuck.” Another groan leaves his lips and you feel your cheeks heat up. Your nightmare from moments ago is forgotten.

“Is it…is it from what you inhaled earlier? Tell me what you’re feeling.” The words come tumbling out of you with urgency as you grow more and more worried.

“Yeah. No. It’s just—fuck.” Bucky swears again, exhaling quickly and then inhaling through his mouth. “You smell so goddamn good, I don’t know what to do with myself.” You’re both silent, so silent that you can hear the way he’s mouth-breathing just so he doesn’t have to overwhelm himself with your scent.

“Bucky—”

“You saying my name only makes this worse.” His grip on your hip tightens slightly and you try to keep your own breathing shallow, so you won’t be moving even a centimeter more than necessary.

“What can I do to help?” You ask quietly. What can you do to help? Bucky bites his lip. Your question is so innocent, so kind, and yet all he can think about is actually letting you do the one thing that would help him right now.

“Let me sleep in the car.” He sighs. You can tell he’s struggling, you can tell he’s in need, and as much as you hate that he’s in that kind of position, you can’t help but feel a little excited about the fact that he’s in it with you.

“You know why that’s a stupid idea. What else can I do?” While you’re lying there in front of him, offering your help, Bucky’s squeezing his eyes shut as he remembers the taste of your lips and the skillful way that you ran your hand along his thigh in the car after that one mission, letting your fingertips just barely skim over his bulge. He remembers every fucking detail of the way you kiss and the memories paired with the fact that your ass is still pressed against him make him feel as though all control is slipping away from him.

“Remind me why I can’t have you.” His request takes you by surprise. It takes a moment for your mind to gather the words that will give him what he wants.

“We work together.” Three words? That’s all you can come up with? With his cock pressing against your ass, your mind is going on strike.

“We work together.” Bucky repeats. That’s a shit reason, sure as hell not a good enough reason to get him to let go of your hip.

“It’d ruin our working relationship.” You try again, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in.

“It would.” Bucky agrees. Your reasons really aren’t even registering in his mind. He’s loosening his hold on your hip but instead of letting go completely, he starts dragging a vibranium fingertip along the waistband of your panties, almost absentmindedly. Your breath hitches in your throat when his fingertip ghosts over your lower stomach, but he slowly drags it back to your hip. He loves the way your body responds to even the slightest of touches.

“It could end horribly.” You point out, trying to keep your breathing steady as he continues tracing the waistband of your panties.

“It could.” He says with a small nod. Bucky doesn’t think as he leans in and presses his lips against the side of your neck. One kiss. One deep inhale. Another kiss. Another deep inhale. You catch yourself arching your back the tiniest bit, pressing your ass against him more.

“There isn’t a single good reason for us to do this.” It’s the last thing you can think of. Bucky pulls his lips away from your neck and his hand stills on your hip.

“There isn’t. It would be a pretty bad decision.” He acknowledges. That’s when you feel him adjust his legs and grind into you. “We might end up hating each other.”

“We can’t have that.” You tsk, biting into your bottom lip after the words leave your mouth. Neither one of you has enough self-control to separate at this point.

“You can have whatever the fuck you want.”

The soft whimper that leaves your lips at the undeniably filthy sentence he’s just spoken against your ear makes him grind into you harder. He can’t think straight when you make noises like that, when you smell like you do. Fuck. You don’t say a word, so he slides his vibranium hand down your thigh and wraps it around your knee, hitching your leg back and over his own. Once he has you a little more spread and leaning even more into his space, he grinds against you from the new angle. You feel his erection against your clothed cunt and the already wet fabric between your legs gets a little more soaked.

“I thought you just agreed that this would ruin our working relationship.” You whine. Please don’t stop, please don’t stop, please don’t stop. Though you sound like you’re being reasonable, your mind is anything but.

“I’m thinking about ruining something right now.” He grumbles against the side of your neck, nipping at your skin.

“We can’t do this.” You say firmly, reaching your left hand down to pull his vibranium one away from your leg that’s still hitched over his thigh. When your palm glides over the now warm metal, you can’t seem to push his hand away. Instead, you intertwine your fingers with his and fight to hold in the moans that are threatening to spill from your lips if he keeps grinding against you the way that he is.

“I know, baby, we can’t.” Bucky groans, rutting into you a little harder and faster, as if he’s trying to get just a little more pleasure out of this before it ends.

“We can’t.” You repeat. Why your hand lets go of his and moves to reach over your shoulder and tangle in his hair is beyond you. Why you pull him further against your neck, encouraging him to kiss and lick you even more is lost on you. Why you don’t do a damn thing to stop what’s currently happening can only be chalked up to how badly you’ve wanted him to fuck you since the first time you kissed him in that bar. Bucky doesn’t dare to say a single word more. He isn’t going to risk talking a little too much sense into you. So, he starts sucking on your neck, leaving obvious marks as you whimper and moan out those sweet, irresistible little noises that have him wanting to fuck you ten different ways.

Bucky’s holding onto the tiniest thread of self-control, it’s all he has left, a damn thread. Every single one of his senses is overwhelmed as he grinds himself against your barely clothed body and tastes the skin of your neck.

“We’re not doing this.” Bucky sounds so resolved, but even as he speaks the claim, he’s pushing your leg off of where it was hitched over his own and guiding you onto your stomach. He doesn’t want you on your stomach, fuck no. He wants you in any position where he can see the faces you make when he buries himself inside of you for the first time, when he starts fucking you the way you’ve needed to be fucked for weeks now, when he cums inside of you. But Bucky knows if he has the privilege of seeing your face through all of that, he won’t ever be able to look at you the same way. He won’t ever be able to go back to working with you in the field. It would ruin your working relationship just like you said. So, he makes sure you’re on your stomach when he starts pushing your shirt up and running his palms along the skin of your back. There isn’t a hint of protest from you as your back arches against his hands and your ass raises up ever so slightly. Even as Bucky begins tugging your panties down your thighs, not a damn word.

Your scent. Your fucking scent. As soon as he has your panties halfway down your thighs, he knows why he couldn’t resist you. You’re ovulating, and he can smell it, the pheromones, just radiating off of you.

“Fuck.” Bucky groans headily. He completely abandons his effort to tug your panties any further than your knees as he rolls on top of you and gets his cock in just the right position to slide between your legs. His hard shaft presses against your wet cunt as he lowers himself onto you and lets his length move between your upper thighs. “You’re already so wet, fuck.”

It only takes a second for you to have Bucky’s entire cock soaked with your arousal, and he hasn’t even been inside you yet. You can’t stop yourself from arching your back and pressing your ass up and into him as he teases you, dragging his length back and forth along your cunt but never giving himself the chance to slide in.

“Bucky…” His name leaves your lips as a needy moan and you don’t have to say another word. You don’t have to ask him to do it. He braces himself with his forearms on either side of your head, his knees on either side of your legs, and lets you shuffle your own knees until they’re underneath you enough to raise your ass off of the bed. A breathy whimper escapes you as a shiver runs down your spine.

“If you keep saying my name, I won’t be able to pull out when I need to.” Bucky warns you, just as you feel the head of his cock teasing your entrance. You think he’s about to push in, when he lets his cock slip away from your entrance and run lazily through your folds. He does it repeatedly, letting it rub against your clit over and over again, listening as your breaths come in more and more ragged at the stimulation.

“Shit, you’re right. You’re not wearing a condom.” You point out in a rare moment of clarity. Bucky chuckles and uses one hand to move your hair away from your neck, before leaning down as pressing a kiss there. You push your forehead into the pillow, muffling the soft moan that you can’t hold back.

“I’m not wearing a condom.” Bucky repeats, as if he means to say that he wouldn’t wear one even if he happened to have one.

“You’re not wearing a—” You’re cut off by Bucky thrusting half of his length into you so suddenly and forcefully that the rest of your sentence disappears from your mind entirely and your hands move to grip his wrists beside your head. You dig your nails into him without realizing as your muscles tense and you press your face into the pillow once again.

“That’s it, get used to it.” Bucky encourages you. It’s such a simple thing to say yet it sounds so filthy coming from him in this moment. It is filthy. He takes a moment for himself, focusing on how tightly your pussy is gripping the first few inches of his cock, how your arousal is basically dripping down his shaft as he lets you adjust to him. That little thread of self-control he was holding onto earlier has frayed more and more and he can’t stop himself from forcing the rest of himself inside of you, until his balls are pressing against you and you’re screaming into the pillow.

“It’s too much, oh my god, it’s too much.” You moan out as you lift your face from the pillow and rest your chin on it instead. You don’t dare to try and look over your shoulder at him, you can barely move without feeling the sting of his cock stretching your entrance.

“No, no it’s just an adjustment.” Bucky coos, pressing another kiss to the back of your neck and inhaling the sweet vanilla scent of your hair. “You’re taking it so well already, just relax for me.”

Your body listens to him. You feel yourself relaxing. First, your hold on his wrists eases until you’re no longer leaving nail marks in his skin. Then, you let out a deep exhale and sink into the mattress beneath him. Bucky’s in awe of you. He knows he’s big, and he knows it’s probably been a while since you’ve slept with anyone with the way work keeps you busy near 24/7. You really are taking him so well. He starts dragging his length out of you slowly, but only a third of the way before he’s pushing it back into you again. The wet sound that results makes him fucking feral. He does it again. Then again. And again. The next thing he knows, he’s holding your hips with your ass up in the air and your face down on your folded forearms as he fucks you so hard that the springs of the couch bed are threatening to snap. With every loud creak of the springs, there’s an equally loud sound of skin smacking against skin. It’s animalistic, the way he’s fucking you.

“Fuck, I’m so close.” You whimper. You bite into your forearm, surely leaving a mark, as he sets a tortuously pleasuring pace. You can feel him reaching a spot inside you no one has ever reached before and it has your eyes rolling back in your head.

“I know, fuck.” Bucky says breathlessly. He pounds into you over and over again, chasing his own release as he feels the walls of your pussy fluttering around him. You’re right there and he can tell. “Cum on my cock, so I can pull out and cum all over your fucking back.” He groans, sounding so damn needy. You can’t think straight. You’re definitely not thinking straight. That’s the only reason you say what you say next.

“No, I’m not cumming if you’re going to pull out.” You say defiantly, actively fighting to hold back your orgasm. Bucky thrusts into you even harder, letting you know that he most definitely likes the sound of not pulling out. He leans down until his chest is pressed against your back and he’s close enough to whisper against your ear.

“You’re going to make me cum inside you when you’re fucking ovulating?”

“How do you—”

“I can fucking smell you.” He rasps against your ear. “Answer me. You really want me to do this?”

You don’t even take a moment to think about it, not a single moment to consider the possible consequence.

“Please.”

It’s only a few hard, deep thrusts later when Bucky’s rhythm grows sloppy and he gives you every single drop of cum he has, fucking it all into you almost recklessly. With every last thrust into your cunt, he’s fully aware that he could be getting you pregnant. He’s fully aware, and yet, he doesn’t have a single fuck to give.

---

It’s the smell of your arousal mixed with his cum, dripping out of you and into your panties, that wakes Bucky around midnight. It’s only been a couple of hours since he was buried deep inside of you but it feels like it could’ve been days ago with how hard his cock is right now. He reaches beneath the covers, palming his erection through the fabric of his boxers as he listens to your steady breaths. You’re sleeping so soundly beside him, with your back turned to him and the covers pulled up just past your waist.

A few key thoughts run through Bucky’s head as he lets his hand run along his clothed length. How serious is this to you? Have you wanted him as badly as he’s wanted you since that night in the bar? Is it just physical for you? A surface level attraction that you momentarily gave into because he was horny and shoving his cock against your ass in a shared bed? But you let him cum inside of you, while you’re ovulating. When your body is fully ready and capable of beginning a pregnancy, you let him pump an entire load into you without a hint of hesitation. You didn’t just let him, you said please. Bucky’s suddenly pushing his boxers down his thighs for the second time tonight, wrapping his fist around his length, and rolling over to face you.

He doesn’t think there’s ever been a better scent than the one emanating from between your legs right now. He can picture the way his cum is swirled together with your arousal right now, probably threatening to soak through the thin fabric of your panties and drip down the soft skin of your thighs until it reaches the bedsheets beneath you. It’s that thought that spurs Bucky on, that makes him tug your panties to the side and press a gentle kiss to the side of your neck as he guides his cock between your legs. The moment he feels the warmth of his own cum from earlier drip from your folds to coat his shaft, he starts mumbling against your skin.

“I need you.” He whispers into your neck, fighting the urge to bite into your skin as the head of his cock notches inside of you and begins to slide in. “Wake up.” Your eyes flutter open just as the head of his cock has fully entered you and the rest of his shaft is following. A raspy swear escapes your lips as your back arches and you start to tense up at the sudden intrusion. Bucky’s vibranium hand flies to your hip, stilling you as he continues pushing in.

“Oh my god.” It’s all you can say as he bottoms out inside you and immediately starts pulling his hips back. He sets a much slower pace than last time, rhythmically fucking you sideways. “I’m sore.” You whimper, turning your head slightly to muffle your moans in your pillow, just like you did earlier.

“I’m sorry, I know.” Bucky groans against your neck, continuing to thrust in and out of you. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He can’t stop. He can’t make his hips still, he can’t pull out of you and let you recover. He just fucking can’t. He fucks you as gently as he can, using his own cum from earlier as lube. With every slow thrust, your soreness dissipates more and more and pleasure begins to replace it. When he cums inside you the second time, it’s without warning, without one single worry about pulling out. He just does it and expects you to take it…which of course, you do.

---

You wake up two hours later, with aching thighs and the slightest hint of a burn on your neck from Bucky’s scruff. As you lie there in the darkness, listening to the sound of Bucky breathing softly mere inches behind you, feeling the excessive amount of cum pooling in your panties, you only seem to be able to think about one thing. Both times that he’s fucked you, he did it from behind. You didn’t get to see his face once. Not once did you get to see how he reacted when he felt the walls of your pussy clenching around him, the face he made when you told him you didn’t want him to pull out, or the way his eyes screwed shut and his mouth fell open when he was cumming. You’ve been deprived of it.

Why does it bother you so much that he hasn’t looked in your eyes either of the two times he’s fucked you? Is he trying to pretend you’re someone else? As tears begin to rim the edges of your eyes, you tell yourself that you’re just being emotional because you’re ovulating. God. You wouldn’t have even known you were ovulating if he hadn’t told you himself.

Truthfully, you’re not even horny. Yet, you find yourself rolling over as quietly as possible, making sure the bed springs don’t creak beneath you. You’re silent as you tug your panties down your legs and toss them onto the floor. You’re even more quiet as you pull the covers back just enough to let you stealthily straddle Bucky’s hips, making sure you don’t touch him yet. Who knew this is what you’d be using all of your professional training for?

He begins to stir when your fingertips graze over his lower stomach. He draws in a deep breath as you tug his waistband down and free his already hard cock from the confines of his boxers. His eyes are blinking open, studying the sight before him as you wrap your hand around his shaft and stroke it firmly. That’s when he comes to his senses and his gaze lands on your face.

“Shit.” He breathes out as you sink down onto his length with determination. Your face. He can see your face. The way your features contort as you try to fit all of him in at this new angle is ruining him. This is exactly what he didn’t need to see, so he tries to talk some sense into you. “You’ll be too sore if we do this again, three times is too many.” Bucky says quietly, running his hands up your thighs to grab onto your hips. You’re only an inch from being fully seated on his cock when he holds you still, not letting you slide down any further. He doesn’t want it, you think. What man tries to stop a girl when she’s already sitting on his dick? He just wanted to fuck you in the dark, with your face invisible to him, and then he wanted to be done with you. Tears well up in your eyes a little more and you dare to look down at him. His gaze coasts from where you’re both connected, up the front of your t-shirt, to your face. That’s when he sees the watery layer over your pretty irises.

“Just let me do this.” You plead, pushing his hands away from your hips and taking in the last inch of his length. Bucky inhales sharply and screws his eyes shut as your tight, wet cunt envelopes his cock completely. He can’t deny you. He can’t deny you, so it’s his turn to fist the sheets as you start moving your hips. You alternate between sliding up and down the entirety of his length and grinding in deep, slow circles when he’s fully sheathed inside you. Even as a tear falls from your face and lands on his bare chest, he doesn’t open his eyes.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m already so close.” He groans, lifting his hands and covering his face with them. He wants nothing more than to roll you over and fuck you missionary. He wants to rail you into the mattress until its deformed and concaved to fit your body. He wants to pin you down and look into your eyes as he fills you for the third time.

“Look at me.” You whisper, moving your hips a little faster. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Bucky groans beneath his hands, and reluctantly removes them from his face, resting them on your thighs once more. His eyes focus between your legs again, but after a couple of seconds his lifts his gaze to meet yours.

“How do you still look so damn pretty after taking my cock the first two times?” He asks with a pained groan. You know he can’t possibly have much to give you after the first two times, but you’ll be damned if you’re not going to take what you can get. You start bouncing on his cock with increasing desperation, chasing your own orgasm. “You even look pretty with tears in your eyes.” He says with a softer tone.

Right as Bucky nears the edge, you feel his cock twitching, you feel his abs tighten beneath your hands, and you lean down. Your nose brushes against his and for a second, you think about kissing him.

“You know why I didn’t want to see your face?” He asks, his ability to form a complete sentence surprising even him. He pushes your hair back, cupping your cheeks in his hands as you continue riding his cock. “Because I knew I’d memorize the way you look when you’re stuffed full of my cock, and I didn’t think I’d ever be able to look at you the same way again.”

“So you were okay with potentially getting me pregnant but not with looking me in the eye?” You ask incredulously, your hips slowing. Bucky groans and thrusts up into you impatiently.

“Don’t talk about being pregnant, fuck.” He thrusts up again and a smile plays on your lips. His hands move from your face down to your waist as he starts setting a pace.

“Bucky, you fucked me raw. You came inside me twice. I’m probably halfway to pregnant right now and you’re about to do it all over again. We can’t talk about it?”

In the blink of an eye, Bucky’s rolling you over, making sure his cock stays inside of you as he lays you on your back and immediately starts thrusting into you.

“Fine.” He grunts, pushing your thighs up to your chest and draping your legs over his shoulders. He buries himself in you deeper and deeper with every snap of his hips. “I’ll look you in the eye right now while I make sure you’re so full of my cum that there’s no fucking way you aren’t pregnant. Is that what you want?”

“Fuck yes.” You moan out as he pounds into you. Within seconds, you’re a panting mess on the couch bed and Bucky’s staring down at you with a passionate, determined look in his eye.

“Look at me when I’m cumming inside you.” He commands. “Look at me when I’m getting you fucking pregnant.”

TAG LIST:

@sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @blackhawkfanatic @kentokaze @nyashonality @h2oaffirmations @sadeyes61 @lulawantmula @i-l-y-3000 @armystay89 @fandomsfeminismandme

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #mcu #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier

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angelltheninth · 1 year

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Do you think that Team Blue Lock would stare if their girlfriend gets soaked in the rain? How would they act? Would they bring her home?

This could be both cute and spicy so I'll sprinkle in a bit of both.

Pairing: Yoichi Isagi, Bachira Meguru, Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi, Hyoma Chigiri, Kunigami Rensuke, Mikage Reo, Nagi Seishiro x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, teasing, awkward boner mentioned, kissing, slightly suggestive, bathing, literal sleeping together

A/N: Most of this is pure fluff but there are some slightly suggestive bits. Nothing explicit but just a little something to give you a taste.

Isagi wanted to wait until the rain stopped, he knew it would get pretty bad if you left now but you pulled him along anyway, insisting on getting home because you had a surprise waiting for him. Granted your house was close but you still got wet from the rain. He stared a little as you opened the door but looked away quickly, not wanting to seem like a pervert. Now was not the time to stare. That can happen after you've given him his surprise, your first time.

Bachira looked at you a little, of course he did. He didn't hide the fact that he was very attracted to you. At the same time he knew it's not good for you to stay like this so he quickly accompanied you home. He waited in your room, on your bed, as you took a warm bath. He got wet too but he could just warm up and he'll be fine. He did take one of your oversized hoodies though. He looked so goofy, sitting cross-legged on your bed, wearing a cat-eared hoodie and boxers.

Sae quickly takes you to his place, him staring at you while you're soaked through is just the kind of thing people want to catch him doing to write the next story. No way in hell is he giving them that, moreover he's not letting anyone else see you like this. Your shirt, so wet that he can see your bra, is for his eyes only. As wonderful and ravishing as you may look right now, and as hard as he is right now, his first priority is getting you warmed up. You can use his shower, his towel, his shampoo, anything you want while he finds you a shirt you can wear.

Rin immediately pulls you against his chest and pulls the side of his uniform jacket over your head, keeping you close while making way to your place. He doesn't really care if he gets wet but he would like to take a shower as quick as possible to prevent getting sick. You first though. A thing that he didn't anticipate is both of you currently being alone, fresh out of a shower and wearing very little clothes. Or how his body would react to a sight of you wearing only a single shirt and panties. A little embarrassing for him, especially when you laugh and reach for it, offering your assistance.

Chigiri knows you can't run as fast as him so he throws caution to the wind, picks you up bridal style and makes a run for his house. It's not the safest thing to do but it's the only thing he thought of on the spot. He was pretty winded after that kind of fun, not so much to not accept a kiss from you, or to return it while you looped your arms around his neck. It's getting pretty stormy out there and he doesn't think making another run would be good for anyone, so why don't you stay the night. He'll warm you up real good. By cuddling of course, get your mind out of the gutter. Unless... you ask politely.

Kunigami blushes a lot when he notices how wet your clothes really got by the time you got to his house. Man it was raining just a little when you started walking too, who knew it would pick up this fact. You chuckle at the choice of his words, him being confused until he follows your line of sight. Oh. Oh! Pay no attention to that, he'll take care of it. You just go take a bath before you get cold. He gets even hotter and more flustered when you suggest taking a bath together. That certainly is an option. And it would warm you both up faster. Fine but don't stare at him, otherwise he won't be able to hold back.

Reo could have sworn he packed an umbrella. Oh well, you made it back to school before it got too bad but... there's very few students and staff members left, most of them waiting for the rain to stop or to be picked up by someone. His uniform didn't get too wet and he has his gym clothes from the day so if you want to he can lend you those. He won't peak while you change of course, he'll be the perfect gentleman about it. At least he tried to be but he failed to consider the fact that you won't be wearing a bra underneath the shirt anymore.

Nagi stayed home that day and was very surprised to see you soaked from rain on his doorstep. Homework could have waited, you shouldn't have visited him right now. Oh he wasn't sick he was just too tired to go that day. You on the other hand will get sick if he doesn't get those wet clothes off you soon. He didn't mean that to sound perverted he's just really worried about you. While you take a bath he'll make you something warm to drink, then you can come to bed with him and he'll warm you up with his body.

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queerfables · 7 months

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I've been weighing this for a while and I've finally settled on a reading of Crowley's big revelation in 2x05 that makes sense to me. It's my best guess at what's going on in his head, accounting for the conversation that leads up to this moment, and the conversations that follow.

Full disclosure, I don't have much evidence to discount the possibility that this is Crowley realising how he feels about Aziraphale, except that I think the overarching narrative of Good Omens holds together better if he already knew. I do think my interpretation is stronger in context, though.

Let's review, then: Crowley and Nina have a conversation in which Nina assumes Crowley and Aziraphale are a couple, Crowley denies it, and Nina refuses to believe him. She pries into the reasons he might be lying and finishes up by saying, "Other people's love lives always seem so much more straightforward than our own." Crowley walks off looking like he's been hit by a truck.

In his next scene, Crowley is getting day drunk at the French restaurant across from the bookshop. He invites Aziraphale to drink with him, which Aziraphale declines. Crowley quickly starts brooding about the archangel they're hiding in the bookshop. "I spent last night worrying if he's going to wake up. What if he remembers who he is? What if he's faking it?"

I think there's a clear and direct line from conversation A to conversation B. Crowley realises that everyone can see he and Aziraphale are in love. Crowley panics about Gabriel regaining his memories. Rather than a revelation of feelings, I think this was a revelation of danger. Crowley and Aziraphale have survived through secrecy and deception, and it's hitting Crowley that their performance is slipping, under what could be the most intense scrutiny they've ever faced.

This could be a factor in Crowley's subsequent confrontation of Gabriel. I agree with @baggvinshield that pushing Gabriel to jump out the window was a test, but I also think that behind the calculating strategy is scared animal instinct. Gabriel is a threat that it would be safest to just eliminate. Crowley needs to be really fucking sure about him.

It makes sense if the conversation with Nina is what triggers Crowley's fears to resurface, because Crowley's just spent almost a full day alone with Gabriel and he wasn't on high alert the whole time. He let his guard down a little when discussing gravity and while summoning the rainstorm for Maggie and Nina. He was pretty keen to get out of there when Aziraphale got back, but he also sounded fairly relaxed when asked about Gabriel. I think in that moment he's more unsettled by Shax lurking around and the consequences of harbouring a fugitive than afraid of Gabriel himself.

I think Crowley's revelation reads like a romantic "oh" because that's what we're primed to expect. It's a common trope, right? Someone accuses the romantic leads of acting like a couple and they realise it's true. But I think that Crowley's jump to fretting about Gabriel makes more sense if he's realising how obvious their feelings are than if he's only just realising what they mean.

#good omens #good omens meta #fable talks good omens

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thisaccountisagainstmywill · 21 days

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BG3 Characters Safest Driver Headcanons

I've been thinking about that poll from months ago way too much, so I've pulled this from my drafts. In this essay, I will explain why Boo is the best driver. Astarion: Terrible. Absolutely terrible driver. He is doing his makeup with the visor down, looking at the mirror more than the road. Suspend your disbelief, he's driving in this universe. He can use mirrors. ♥ You have to grab the steering wheel, regularly. Without warning, the man twists around to find his purse in the back seat because he wants a different eyeliner than what he grabbed. You are on aux duty. He hates everything you've picked. 2/10, he lawyered his way into that license Gale: You would think he would be safe, but then you remember that Gale didn't pay attention in boring classes. And how hard could driving really be?? The man knows how to drive perfectly textbook. He also thinks he knows how to do it better than everyone else. He does not adapt well to poor drivers. The roads are full of poor drivers. He is yeling "Zipper!" at the merging traffic. You spend five minutes in the parking lot so he can find just the right song for the trip.

6/10, you will probably not die Halsin: The man drives slow, I'm sorry. He's fuel efficient as you can get with the windows down. He pulls over and stops traffic for ducks crossing the road, no matter what the current road conditions are. He stops to show you the new tree the neighbor got. He is a Yellowstone Park tourist. He wants to show you the world, one traffic-stopping mid-road parking job at a time. There is no music, we are listening to nature today. 4/10, you will be rear-ended with him and not the way most people want Jaheira: I stand by what I said last time: Jaheira reminds me of so many older women I know. She drives like she wants someone to start shit with her. She's so conditioned by having 5 kids fighting in the backseat at all times that every time she's behind the wheel she's having Vietnam-level flashbacks. Her blood is pumping in her ears. There is no road, there is only the red of her vision. She won't start the road rage incident directly, but by god, she will end it. (You tried to ask about music, but the look she gave you when asked killed the question.) 5/10, you make it to your destination intact. But at what cost? Your pants are a different color at the end of the trip than they were at the beginning. Karlach: Karlach is talking with her hands while she drives. She's fiddling with the radio constantly. You've blown four red lights. Three of them were the same red light because she took a wrong turn. She will not use GPS, she's got the vibe of where she's going. She was trying to show you something on her phone at the same time. It cannot wait. It was so good you have to see it right now. The tunes are so loud she hasn't heard the sirens behind her. 4/10, the tunes almost make up for it Lae'zel: You are helping her check her mirror distance before you get in the car. You are buckled in before the car even starts. You are not allowed to touch the light in the car if it is dark out. She was taught that it's illegal to have on at night and she takes that shit seriously. You are on blindspot-watching duty at all times. You're not allowed to have music on the in car, it is a distraction. 7/10, we are efficient, but we are miserable Minsc: Minsc cannot drive. Minsc was meant to drive today, but Minsc got into the wrong seat. We are all relieved. Jaheira trained him wrong on purpose and will kill you if you correct him. 0/10, don't even try. He will survive the accident, you will not. Minthara: Minthara, light of my life. She is gremlin cackling and riding bumpers the whole time. People are pulling off constantly to get away from her. You are white-knuckling in the passenger seat and are too afraid to let go of the bitch-bar. You pray her airbags are up to date because your life has not stopped flashing before your eyes since you got onto the road. We are exclusively listening to The Flight of the Valkyries. 7/10, it is shockingly efficient when no one else is on the road anymore

Shadowheart: I have been in many a 'Shadowhearts' car. The car is more of a problem than she is. She drives the type of car that makes people go, "You live like this?" She drives a manual. She was not trained to drive a manual. Almost every single dash light is on, the ones that aren't had their bulbs die out years ago. We don't know how old that trash is, but it lives here now. She has one of those cassette players that has to hook into your phone to come out the speakers. Good luck finding the right adaptor in the mess. 4/10, girl get your shit together Wyll: Wyll is the best driver, hands down...when he is alone. Like all things in his life, his greatest flaw is being too polite. He turns his whole fucking head to look at you when you talk because that is the polite thing to do. The road is secondary to how important your conversation and companionship are to him. And you can't not talk him! He's asking you genuine questions about your day because he's interested. You get to listen to whatever you want and he's totally down for it even if it's not normally his thing. He'll find something he likes about it. Alone: 100/10, he somehow makes everyone better drivers by just being on the road With you: 5/10, Wyll, please, look at the road. ;_;

Boo: My eyes are closed. It's better this way. We made it there in record time. I don't know how it happened. I don't need to know how it happened. ?/10, it's best if you don't think about it

#bg3 #bg3 shitpost #shitpost headcanons #astarion #gale #bg3 gale #karlach #lae'zel #shadowheart #bg3 shadowheart #wyll #bg3 wyll #halsin #minthara #minsc #minsc and boo #boo #bg3 boo #jaheira

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nogenderbee · 2 months

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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕊𝕒𝕗𝕖 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: May I request the demon brothers with a reader who likes being with them because they feel safe around them?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hi! Absolutely! Headcanond seemed a bit too boring so... I did oneshot. I guess reader could be seen as shy in some? So sorry if this isn't what you wanted but hopefully, it won't interrupt much and hope you like it anyway!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

You were just walking next to Lucifer with coffee in your right hand and his hand in your left. It was late night and you were walking back home after a date, you honestly didn't even care about the fact you were just about to pass some clearly drunk rebels, unlike Lucifer.

You were walking on his right side two you were basically out of reach for them. You just continued your little chat while your boyfriend was the one being caucious about this whole situation.

When you finally walked out of their reach, you could hear him sigh and turn his attention back to you. Just from the posture, you could tell... it's not gonna be the happiest conversation.

"Y/N... you know I appreciate you having conversation with me but I think it'd be better if you could keep it down when we walk by more problematic demons."

"Why tho? I don't think we should have worse time because of them."

"Yes... but haven't you considered the fact they might not be the nicest? Not speaking about the fact they were intoxicated and may've hurted you."

"I don't think so. I really just feel safe around you and that's why."

You certainly made all of his arguments escape his head. You could see small sparkle of pride in his eyes as his expression turned from scolding to gentle smug.

Seriously tho, what made you think it was good idea to boost his ego even more?

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Mammon got you out of the house, mainly by claiming he's not gonna make you pay again this week because he won in casino last night so he's treating you today! Sure, money isn't everything but those little demon owns you thousands of Grimm by now... it's nice to see him pay sometimes too to know there are feelings on your relationship after all.

You were walking through city with one restaurant in mind when he suddenly stopped and pointed at the jewellery shop.

"Hey, wait for me here, alright? I'll just go grab something from that shop!"

"Can't I just come with you?"

"Well uh- you could but... it's gonna be quick, yeah? It's not like someone will steal ya!"

"And what if they would?"

You said it kind of jokingly but also with slight worry... you felt the safest around him, it was only natural you wanted to go with him rather than wait here.

He also changed his expression and he actually thought of it. It didn't even took him long before he grabbed your hand and walked with you on his side into jewelery shop.

"Alright human, THE Mammon has you covered! Just don't peek when I tell ya not to!"

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You tugged on Levi's shirt, trying to get him off his console for 3 hours now... you respected his dedication and fact he wanted to beat up the impossible boss but he's loosing his sanity and you're getting hungry. And since all brothers except you two are away, you wanted to go eat in the city.

"C'mon Levi!! Let's just go order a pizza, have a little walk and we can come back home!"

"You realize you coule just go without me? I'm not gonna run away from this room anytime soon..."

"Well yeah but I don't want to go alone! It's safer with you!"

"You could always ask Lucifer to go with you? Or Diavolo? Or-"

"No, none of them make me feel safe like you do."

You looked up at him, seeing flushed face, open mouth and widened eyes. It was clear you caught him off guard and you couldn't help but grin knowing it's gonna be so much easier to convince him now.

"So? Can we go now?"

"S-Sure... let me pause..."

He wanted to tell you to wait for him to calm down but he simply couldn't bring himself to it, so he just paused his game and followed you to the city.

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You were actually walking alongisde Satan from your little cat cafe date quite comfortably. That's untill you noticed some shady demons on your way. Your boyfriend seemed to simply not care so you just got on the side closer to wall and catched his hand.

You simply felt safer behind him and even tho he wasn't looking your way, it didn't go unnoticed to him. You maybe not realized it at first but after he sent you small smug right as you passed the other demons, you knew he had you all figured out...

"Feeling this paranoid?"

"What's wrong with going behind person I trust?"

"Nothing. I just thought it's cute act. Are all humans this cowardly?"

"It was more of a survival instinct than cowardness..."

"Call it however you prefer."

You could just look at him upset as he chuckled at your reaction. Seems like he knows what he'll rub into others faces for the next few days... but it's still the fact that's the most important to him. People are usually scared of him and you feel safe around him, avatar of wrath? You're definitely something...

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@miya-akane - come get your cat lover!

You were casually walking through streets and carrying Asmo's bags as Asmo was thinking of shop you haven't visited yet today. And we know, you HAVE TO visit all the shops around here!

But when you were walking past shadier alley, you felt slight shivers down your spine... not only it was looking like out of a horror movie, you also heard from news, just today that there were kidnappings and murders happening recently.

Pink haired devil seemed to notice your concern and immidietly grabbed your hand in attempt to reassure you a bit and calm you down.

"Hey now. No need to get so scared when you're around me! Let's just have fun!"

Maybe he knew about your opinion on him, maybe he said that just to tease you? Who knows? What's important is that his actions worker flawlessly!

"Right... thanks a lot."

But your answer left him with small gasp as if not believing you admitted it just like that. So he was just teasing after all!

"Oh my, really?! Awh~ Alright then, sweetheart, I'll fulfill my job as tour prince~"

That definitely made his day and it'd definitely be hard to restrain him from posting anything related to this situation on Devilgram. He even hummer an upbeat song for the rest of the day and took you with him absolutely everywhere even after coming back home.

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@vodka-glrl - come get your pretty princess~

Beel actually knew that his body shape and sin itself could scare others easily and that most of his brothers felt safe around him. Also, he'd always offer to tag along when you were a bit too scared to to somewhere. Even then he didn't expect to ever hear it directly from someone else than Belphie...

"Thanks again, Beel... I shouldn't have watched that horror movie at 1am I guess..."

"It's fine. You already thanked me with food. And as much as I don't mind... you really should go to sleep earlier. Don't human need like 8 hours of sleep?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know... But still. I'm happy it's you who went with me because I had no worries for the entire way! Out of all brothers, you're the one that makes me feel safest."

Beel stopped munching there for a second and looked down at you with slight surprise, but later on it turned into a grateful smile.

"No problem. I'm happy to put my reputation to protect ones I care about!"

What a cutie, he was smiling for the rest of the day too. All brothers thought it was just some delicious food but you, Beel and Belphie knew very well it wasn't the only thing that was causing it. It was honestly sweet to see him follow you with his legs or eyes like a little loyal puppy.

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Walking through city with Belphie looked like either him being carried on your or someone's back, or him looking like he's gonna drop and sleep on road any second. Even then, you took out no one else than avatar of sloth alone to accompany you.

Despite his lack it energy, you knew he could be dangerous. Heck, you alone probably know it better than anyone! So despite him being lazy as always, you actually felt safer than around anyone else! Well... maybe you could use Beel's company to feel even more safe but your boyfriend was still definitely enough. It was just trying to convince him to keep going that was hard...

"I'm so tired... you already have enough, let's just go home..."

"Just a while more Belphie. I still have one or two more shops to visit!"

"You said the same thing for last 6 stores... Couldn't you take Asmo with you instead?"

"Uhm... well technically but I prefered you. You're the one I feel safe around."

He suddenly stopped complaining and you could swear you just saw him getting slightly bit more energetic and motivated after hearing your voice. Also his pout changed into gentle smile as he finally wasn't walking like he'll collapse anymore.

"Oh... alright one more store. But I'm warning you, if we go through 2, I'll tell asleep on you..."

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@miya-akane - come get your sleepyhead~

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clericofgale · 4 months

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The stars will be our bed

I'm seeing a very popular narrative that asking for physical sex during Gale's act 2 scene is better for his character development, and the astral scene is bad for him. Or at least not as good. While I do prefer the astral version more, I disagree with the notion that either one is better for Gale's plot development. I've done both options depending on the what felt right for that specific Tav at the time. As always, if that's the narrative you want to build, there's nothing wrong with it.

For me personally I think both are narratively sound for his character development. Yes Gale needs to know he doesn't need magic to be loved, but Gale also loves magic. It's his life, his passion and his artistic medium of choice. What he needs is balance, not total rejection. You want the man, and the magic.

"Tactful, Bowing to the player's desires"

If you insist on regular sex, that's the devnote that's attached to it. Gale is acquiescing to what you, the player wants. Gale wanted to share his magic with you, but you refused. He doesn't care either way, as long as he's spending the night with you. The approval numbers are the same. He obviously prefers the astral sex because it's what he's used to and confident in, but either is fine.

One thing we have to remember is Gale also uses magic to find connection. In the act 1 weave scene, Gale and you share thoughts over the weave. It's exactly what he's trying to do in Act 2 as well. It's a mind meld sequence using the weave. I don't think Gale is trying to use magic to as a front in this scene, despite the "I can wow you" sentence if you refuse. I think he's trying to share his inner self with magic as the canvas, and connect with you in this most intimate way. It's akin to Fane's scene in DOS2 where you share Source with each other and also mind meld.

Gale wants to distill a lifetime's worth of affection into one night because he feels he will die soon. The scene is his "Last Night Alive". Gale, the artist of the weave puts on his final and private show for his beloved. He weaves stars and invites light to the land of shadows. He's prepared for days for this whole sequence, and you only need to trust him.

If you do he leads you into his innermost world. First, where he feels safest, and the balcony that brings him comfort. Then the book of a thousand days and nights filled with his love for you. The amount of time he wishes he had left to show you his affection, physical or emotional.

But he only has one night.

"There are endless worlds out there. Countless ways to declare love. Infinite ways to express it. Too much for one night.. but we shall try."

The astral scene is him trying. He multiplies as he refuses to let go your hand. He caresses every part of your mind, body, and soul. Gale tries desperately to sear every fiber of your being, of the one he loves onto his own soul. He wants to feel everything you do, and the weave is capable of that.

"Your bodies and minds weave together in a masterpiece of intimacy. Never have you felt such wonder, such love - as vast as the universe itself, and just as heavenly. "

You are one and the same that night. Where Gale ends and you begin is a mystery; he is lost in you and you in him.

"We are all sensual vessels. Illusory magic lets us sail farther, and feel more deeply."

The scene is beautiful, both narratively and visually. This is not a man trying to use magic to demonstrate his worth so you won't leave him. This is a man trying to use magic to weave a tapestry from two spools of thread in one night. It's ok to let him do so. It's also ok to remind him he doesn't need to. Whichever feels right in that moment is the right choice.

They all end in giving Gale renewed hope. Magic was merely the medium on which it blossomed and thrived. Whether from a bed of stars or a bed conjured under it, your love is what gave it life.

Thanks for reading this way too long cold take.

#act 2 spoilers #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 spoilers #gale thoughts #baldur's gate 3

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twdbegins · 4 months

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Floral Sheets

⋆˙⟡⋆˙⟡

Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader Tags: Fluff. Word Count: 2.1k "Not ready for tomorrow yet."

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The sun had set over Alexandria long ago.

The hues of orange and purple had faded with the falling sun and transformed the sky into a canvas of inky black, speckled with twinkling stars -- a perfect end to an otherwise arduous day.

Alexandria was thriving, and everyone in it was better than they had been in years...possibly since the apocalypse had begun.

Once a quiet suburban neighborhood, it had become a safe haven for Rick and his fellow survivors in a world full of the living dead. Alexandria was more than another camp...it was a symbol of human resilience and a testament to their will to survive.

There was a consistent supply of food, shelter, water, and (most importantly) safety. It was the safest and the healthiest that Rick and his group had been in a long time.

Alexandria had blossomed into a perfect sanctuary, and everyone was grateful for it. But such a thriving community required intense and constant work to keep it to that standard. Keeping track of weapons, supplies, and all the basic resources was vitally important. When certain supplies were to the point of restocking, Daryl was almost always the errand boy.

He could handle himself better than anyone in Alexandria. He worked well alone, and he could get himself out of a dangerous situation if he found himself in a pinch.

Daryl knew that he had a long day ahead of him from the moment his feet hit the floor early that morning. He had several stops to make on his journey outside of the walls of Alexandria, and a few of those stops were quite out of the way.

Not to mention, the blazing heat of summer was nearly blistering during the day, and even during the night hours, it wasn't much cooler. It was so humid that sometimes it made the air so thick that it felt like breathing soup.

Daryl was used to the heat, and while it didn't bother him all that much -- it still made a long, tiring day even longer and more exhausting.

And the moment that he stepped through the door late that night, he felt a sense of relief crash over him. It was significantly cooler inside your house, and he was so glad to be out of the heat and at home.

He had three things on his mind when he entered your home: food, a shower, and you.

If he could have it his way, he would've liked those things in reverse order -- but he couldn't bring himself to wake you just for a shower you didn't need, and he doubted you wanted to be disturbed just to sit with him while he horked down whatever he could scrounge up for dinner. And he knew you definitely wouldn't want him crawling into bed without eating or showering.

His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor, his steps heavy and not as quiet as he wanted them to be. He knew that you would be long asleep by now, and he wanted to do his best to keep you sleeping peacefully.

He made a beeline for the kitchen, his stomach grumbling and growling with the simple request to be fed. He smacked himself for not snatching a can of something for himself when he was unloading the goodies he had picked up that day, but when he opened the refrigerator -- he realized that he didn't need it.

Right there, sitting perfectly wrapped on the center of the top shelf, was a plate of that night's leftovers that he knew you had saved just for him.

He didn't even need to see what the leftovers were to know that he was about to scarf down every last morsel on that plate. He didn't even bother heating it up because eating it cold didn't make a difference to him in the slightest.

He rinsed his plate (a habit that he only came to have after living with you full time) and left it in the sink to be washed in the morning before moving on to his next step.

He opted to use the shower on the opposite side of the house, knowing that using the one connected to the bedroom would surely end up with you waking up to the sound of him clambering around.

He was caked in dirt, sweat, and who knows what else. He felt five pounds heavier just with whatever was sitting on his skin and clothes. Daryl didn't mind getting dirty and staying dirty, but tonight it was actually bothering him a bit.

Needless to say, a shower was needed.

It was well appreciated nonetheless, and the stream of water felt incredible on his tired muscles that were in need of rest. He took his time though, maneuvering around the tiny guest bathroom shower and scrubbing his body until his natural skin tone wasn't obstructed by muck and grime.

He lathered soap on his face, ears, and neck thoroughly, watching the evidence of the long day wash along the shower floor and down the drain to never be seen again. He rubbed his eyes, feeling his eyelids grow heavier by the minute.

The fatigue was setting in fast. Between his fed belly and the relaxation of home, several hours of sleep were calling his name...and no matter what anybody said, Daryl had made the decision to sleep in the next morning.

After all, he knew you were awaiting him just across the small house, and he would never pass up an opportunity to wake up with you.

Once he felt fresh and clean, he turned off the water and stepped out. He dried himself, wrapping the towel around his waist to make the short journey to the bedroom. He gathered his dirty (an understatement) clothes so they could be washed later, knowing to toss them in the hamper (also a habit he developed post-living with you) by the closet.

His feet made it to the closed bedroom door, and he was slow to open it. As he knew you would be, you were curled up in bed

He stopped in the doorway for just a moment to observe you. Your eyes closed softly and your breathing steady brought a flutter to his heart. It let him know you were comfortable and safe...you felt safe.

You were the balm to his weary soul, your presence a comfort he had come to rely on. He didn't watch you for long, knowing that he would much rather be with you up close than from afar.

He approached his side of the bed, carefully adjusting his pillow and peeling back the covers...to reveal quite the surprise.

Ordinarily, Daryl wasn't sure if he would've even noticed. However, this was such a difference that he wasn't sure if he couldn't have not noticed.

New sheets. He thought to himself, the corners of his lips turning up slightly.

In terms of quality, this bedding was a major upgrade. Your last set of sheets were very plain and, despite the fact that they kept you warm, were just plain overused.

But in terms of looks? Daryl wasn't so sure that this new bedding was an improvement.

You had mentioned to him a time or two that you wanted to change up your bedroom. Alexandria was proving to be your permanent home for the foreseeable future, so making your house the way you wanted seemed logical. Over time, Daryl had managed to find random furniture pieces out in the world outside the walls. Lamps, chairs, and whatnot.

Sheets, on the other hand, were much harder to come across. Frankly, Daryl hadn't ever found a set of sheets that were suitable for sleeping on...no matter how many times you washed them.

Daryl studied the sheets. They were light pink, decorated with a simple printed pattern of roses. It wasn't the tacky grandma type of floral/rose design -- this pattern was much more simplistic...dainty even.

Daryl didn't exactly love the sheets. But a bed was a bed, and as long as you were in it, he didn't rightly care.

Least the comforter is the same. He thought to himself.

He climbed into bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He tried to keep his movements slow and gentle, but Daryl wasn't exactly known for being graceful.

He winced when you began to stir with a whimper, a brief look of panic in your eyes when they opened.

“Hey, hey…” He rested his hands on your shoulders. “It’s just me.”

You stared at him through squinted eyes for only a moment before sighing out a breath of relief and falling back into your pillow. You wasted no time moving closer to him, snuggling up to him with a content, soft smile.

"Hi." You whispered.

"Hey, pretty girl. Sorry I'm so late gettin' in."

You shook your head, not even giving it a second thought.

"It's okay. How was today?" You asked groggily.

He wrapped his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead. He felt the stress and pressure of the day melt away in the feeling of you.

"Can't complain. Got what we needed," He said. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"It's okay," You shrugged. "I'm happy you're here."

Your face was nuzzled into his neck, the smell of bar soap from his recent shower filling your senses. Daryl danced his fingertips along your back, noting that you were much warmer than he was from being in the bed for longer.

Speaking of, he knew it wouldn't be long before you wanted to discuss your new addition to the room.

“I got new sheets.” You mumbled, but even in your state of half sleep, he could tell you were excited about it.

“Mmhm.” He hummed. "I noticed."

The sound of his indifference caused you to pull your head back to look at him.

“You don’t like them?” You asked.

“A bit girly for me. Glad you like ‘em though,” He said. "Where'd you get 'em?"

"Michonne actually. She and Rick were out today and found a place stocked with that sort of stuff," You explained. "It must've been a Bed Bath and Beyond or something."

"A what?" He snorted.

"Bed Bath and Beyond. It was a furniture/home decor retail store back in the day," You explained. "That was a joke, but it had to have been some kind of home decor store. I don't know how else they could've found bedding this nice and new."

Daryl gave a small chuckle, amused by your high enthusiasm for just a set of new sheets. But he understood that they were much more than just sheets to you. They comforted you, and they gave you something to be excited about.

"What do you have to do tomorrow?" You asked, and Daryl couldn't help but groan.

He didn't want to think about tomorrow yet. He had literally just finished today. He knew that, even with a late start, he would have a day just like today: busy, hot, and exhausting.

For now, he wanted to enjoy the end of today...or what was left of it at least. He wanted to hold you close, get some sleep, and be thankful for another day survived.

And hope for many more to come.

"Same ol' things," He sighed. "Not ready for tomorrow yet."

You understood what he meant and ditched the topic. He smirked when you kissed him, which was your way of changing the subject and when you had run out of things to say.

Not that Daryl minded.

He held your face in his hand, keeping you close and preventing you from straying far from him. He felt himself melt into you, the best feeling in the world after a day like this. He wished he could have this every night.

His kisses were lazy and slow, which was a bit out of the norm for him. You could tell he was fighting sleep, and you didn't blame him in the slightest for being tired.

"How about we get some sleep? I know you're exhausted." You brushed a strand of hair from his eyes, noting how heavy they looked.

Normally, he would've fought for a few more minutes...but tonight, sleep sounded all too good.

"Yeah." He agreed.

"Talk more in the morning?" You asked, and he gave a grin.

"'Course, baby." He pressed his lips to the crown of your head.

Daryl shifted further under the covers, making sure that you were snuggled in and warm. Daryl kept you close for the rest of the night, sharing kisses when he could and keeping you in his dreams.

All wrapped up in those pink, floral sheets.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x fem! reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon one-shot #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twdbegins

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imababblekat · 4 months

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Taking Care Of Baby Mutant Turtle W/ Donnie; Hc's

@valen-yamyam16 ,"hello how are you? I hope you're well, for days I have the idea of the f!reader with donatello taking care of a mutant baby turtle that they rescued from the TCRI or something like that donie and reader can be two fools in love who haven't confessed yet. Hehe(also I imagine the newborn baby maybe 2 weeks old,and I don't know if you want the others to interact with the baby?)"

~xXx~

first off, the tiny tike for a reason unknown to anyone, is that they only seem to stay calm when Donnie and you are in the same room, but you BOTH have to be there! No exceptions!

it's like they know on some cosmic level that you two like each other, and are trying to get you both to hook up by playing some pseudo game of house

Mikey once joked that they're like you're little cherub, and you couldn't have shoved a pillow fast enough over his face to stop him from blurting your crush on his brother to the world

Donnie on the other hand thinks it's some kind of taunting joke the universe is playing on him for all the endless pinning he's felt towards you

but if anyone ask, he uses science as an excuse, saying that the baby mutant most likely imprinted on you and him as you both were the first to find them in a TCRI lab

Whatever the case is, you two work as a team to care for the little one

Donnie does everything he can to make sure they’re at optimum health, and you help with that by providing nutritional foods

They might be mutant, but no way are they starting life off on just pizza!

You learn so much about turtle health from Donnie, and he ends up learning a lot about taking care of children from your own experiences with human kids

Donatello gets extremely excited about picking out clothes for them, and you find his excitement very adorable

Part of you wonders if it’s because he didn’t get to have much of that option growing up, and so have no qualm with indulging in buying cute articles of clothes that your closest friend picks out for your little one

Donnie nearly dies when you two show up in matching onesies, and just about ascended to a different realm entirely when you present him with one as well, hand crafted by your own hands!

that baby is the safest baby in the world you best believe!!

not only do they have three amazing uncles and super bad ass grandpa, but neither you or Donnie would ever let any harm come to that child

Since the baby turt is so attached to you, everyone thought it best you live with the brothers and Master Splinter for the time being

This leads to many nights falling asleep in the lab or Donnie’s room since the small bab really wants to be near him as well

Just like with the four brothers Master Splinter collects baby pictures of the newest addition to the family

His favorite by far is one he took of Donnie and you huddled together next to a makeshift crib with the baby being cradled by you both, each one of you fast asleep in the others embrace

~xXx~

#bayverse donnie x reader #bayverse donatello x reader #bayverse tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #aged up tmnt #@valen-yamyam16 #imababblekat's writing

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soobnny · 1 year

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meet odd — han jisung.

trope. acquaintances to lovers. college au. u live in the same apartment floor. fluff.

synopsis. you get to know han jisung under strange circumstances or alternatively “we live in the same floor and the room between ours always has really loud sex so now we’re both in the main lounge at 2am… do you want this last bit of ice cream?”

word count. 2.3k

warnings. mentions of sex (from the apartment neighbor), cursing

note. hello hello! another skz fic hihi send an ask if u wanna be added to my skz perma taglist :’) i hope u enjoy this silly little story

part 2

There are a lot of things you love about your apartment – the free water and electricity bill, how it's walking distance from your school, the really cold study lounge, and the cat that frequents your small balcony.

For its price, you really couldn’t ask for anything more. The cheap monthly pay goes perfectly with your very strict budget as a broke college student. So, truly, you couldn’t ask for anything more.

Actually, maybe you could.

Within all the great qualities your apartment has to offer, there lies one really, really big setback. The apartment right next to yours and your painfully thin walls. The amount of times it has fucked you up in the head after a long day of classes and exams are immeasurable.

Cue the soft banging of your head against your wall and the pillow around your ears to block out the noises, serene smiling as you greet her the next day as you walk out of the apartment together to head to your early morning classes.

The months before she moved, your apartment had been the safest haven to retreat to – where you could stare at the ceiling after a long day, finish your school work quietly before getting comfortable in your bed, and rewatch a show you’d seen a million times before sleeping to prepare for another battle in your university.

Now, your armor is faltering, and the number of hours of your sleep is decreasing gradually fast. Each night was just repetitive banging of her bed’s headboard against the wall between your apartment rooms and obnoxious moans.

You honestly wouldn’t have minded if they weren’t so fucking loud about it.

And if they didn’t go at it until the crack of dawn.

You hate to be told to be grateful. There’s a clear border for when you’re valid to feel frustration over your situation – when you’re allowed to be ungrateful for the downcast of your neighbor in your life.

Because of your predicament, you’ve found multiple alternatives to aid you in overcoming this temporary challenge. There’s a pair of noise canceling headphones on your nightstand that you begrudgingly used your savings up on to purchase, and you’d been a constant visitor in Seungmin’s dorms.

However, you can only go for so long before you start displaying lower back pains from Seungmin’s old and fucked up couch. His roommate, Jeongin, doesn’t help much either when he enjoys talking your ears off as he does anything but study for his classes.

This is what your new living situation is like. You live off Seungmin’s dying couch and the random stabs of pain on your lower back, your apartment neighbor having the time of her life, and the newly formed bags under your eyes.

You’ve definitely thought about marching up to her room and talking to her about it. But what the hell were you supposed to say? It isn’t exactly the easiest thing to confront people about their sex life.

That’s how you find yourself retreating from your apartment at the ass crack of dawn to sit at the main lounge for a bit, defeated with slumped shoulders and heavy eyes.

They can’t go on for much longer, right? You just had to wait at the main lounge for a few more minutes and you could go back to the comfort of your own bed.

“Good morning.” There’s laughter in the voice of the only other person lounging on the couches of your lobby, legs crossed with a tub of ice cream in his hands.

You recognize him as Han Jisung – the other apartment situated right next to your sex addict neighbor. You’ve only really seen him a few times, in the elevator, leaving for the gym as you come back from school, and you’ve only really shared a brief exchange of hi’s and hello’s. Seeing him in a hoodie and sweatpants with glasses on has your stomach doing a summersault.

He is so painfully handsome, jumping straight out of his hot-boy-with-humor trope.

As soon as your eyes meet, the two of you laugh so loudly and so hysterically. You just know. You know why he’s here at 2am with his tub of ice cream. He’s at the main lounge for the exact same reason you are, and something about that feels so humanizing and funny to you.

There’s a shared understanding in your crinkled eyes and cracked smiles and heavy panting from laughing too hard at your predicament. You don’t care that you look crazy with your messy hair from tossing and turning from your bed all night. Nothing looks or sounds crazy to Jisung.

He’s scooting over the couch to leave the space next to him for you, his hand dropping down to pat the spot so you can sit right next to him.

You’re quick to walk over and sit next to him, and he gives you a smile, fingers drumming over the arm of the sofa with his thigh pressed up against yours slightly that makes your heart beat erratically.

“Want some?” His round boba eyes look at yours as he nudges the tub of ice cream in front of you, twisting his body so he can face you better.

The scent of his cologne is holding you ransom.

None of this feels real, but you swear you can’t be making this shit up. You can’t be making up pretty Han Jisung with his slightly long and a bit disheveled hair and his puffed out cheeks as he chews on his ice cream.

Staring down at his offer, you go over your choices. Although, when someone offers up free ice cream at 2am when you need comfort the most, you don’t think there’s really a need to go over your invisible choices. There’s an obvious answer – the one you take as you grab a spoonful of his ice cream and stuff it in your mouth.

You close your eyes at the cold sensation, a smile creeping up on your face instantly. You’re the happiest you’ve been today already, in this moment, eating ice cream with the boy with worn out converse and the sweetest laugh.

“How have you been coping?”

Jisung knows exactly what you’re talking about, and he finds it hilarious how you’re labeling his response to your shared neighbor as ‘coping mechanisms’. His lips twitch up as he rolls his head back to rest on the cushions.

“You can only go so far with noise canceling headphones.”

“I know right!” Your face lights up as you take another spoonful of ice cream, nodding your head in agreement.

“I tried staying with a friend for a bit, but I’m tired of living off protein shakes and cuddling on the same bed. A double sized bed cannot fit me and Changbin.” He shivers as he recounts his experiences with the boy.

“Changbin as in Seo Changbin from the Music and Performing Arts department?”

“Yeah! Binnie! How do you know him?” Your question makes the smile on his face brighter.

“My friend Seungmin knows him. I’m definitely telling him you shaded his love for protein shakes and that you hate cuddling with him.”

“I don’t hate cuddling with him!” Jisung defends himself, shaking his head aggressively. “I would cuddle with him on a bigger bed.”

“Dude…” He laughs.

Something about how he has experienced the same struggles you have is a little haunting, but also comforting. To know you’re not the only one who has gone through the mockery of begging to stay at a friend’s or purchasing those stupid overpriced headphones.

“Wanna… uh, nevermind.”

“Hm?”

Jisung isn’t the most straightforward person in the world, but something about the way you’re looking at him with wide, curious eyes is intoxicating, and it gives him enough courage to continue talking.

Clearing his throat, he repeats. “Wanna go out for a bit?”

Han Jisung’s voice is very deep and very convincing at 2 in the morning.

“They’re not gonna be done soon?”

He studies your hopeful features and pats your shoulder in comfort. “I don’t wanna ruin your small ray of hope, but they were going at it until 4am last night.”

Grimacing, you drop your head in defeat. “If that’s the case, then let’s go.”

That’s how you find yourselves at a creepy, run-down convenience store near your apartment, purchasing more ice cream and looking through the stalls for anything to buy.

“Hey, Hannie!” You call out to him at the back of the store, and he comes padding over with a splash of giddiness in his heart at the nickname you give him.

His friends have called him that a million times, but it sounds different coming from you. It sounds so natural, like you were always meant to say it.

He bites down his lip to prevent himself from smiling further. His heart flutters at the possibility of you being a constant in his life. Hannie, Hannie, Hannie. It slips out of your mouth so easily that he wonders if the universe purposely gave you two that neighbor for this specific moment.

For him to meet you at the main lounge and invite you to the convenience store (and into his life in the process).

Is this what those stupid male leads feel like in those romantic comedies he binge watched with Changbin?

Jisung used to think it was absolutely ridiculous to meet someone and form an entire life with them in their head, but he finds himself doing the same in all his hypocrisy.

When he arrives to where you’re standing, he watches in amusement as you spend the next few minutes trying your hand at a run-down claw machine – desperately aiming for the pompompurin keychain.

First, you play with eyes of determination and careful movements, and then you’re smashing at the buttons in frustration.

Pretty, he thinks.

He can’t help but swoon at the sight of you with an oversized hoodie, smashing at the claw machine with your eyes half open and your lips pouted in defeat.

“Want me to try?”

You’re aware that claw machines were always faulty and deceiving, but you allow Jisung to try and win the keychain that’s probably cheaper to buy than the amount of money you’ve inserted in the coin slot to play the game.

With the plastic bag of ice cream and candy on his left hand, he uses his right hand to control the stick so he can angle the claw the way he needs it. Leaning forward, he focuses on getting the keychain you’ve been aiming for, pressing the red button after a few seconds of pushing it around.

His lips twitch in a smile when he sees the claw land exactly where he needs it to be, and he sneaks a glance at your anticipating face – heart speeding up at the sight.

“Oh my god. And you got the one I wanted?!” Jisung crouches down to grab the keychain from the prize slot before handing it to you and it immediately finds its home on the zipper of your wallet.

He has a proud smile on his face when he sees you hugging your wallet to your chest with a newfound happiness brightening your features. Even the convenience store lady is impressed at how he was able to get anything from that claw machine at all.

Maybe that’s what the graveyard shift does to you. It tires you out so much that you find someone winning at the claw machine game fun.

With an ice popsicle on your hand and your wallet with your new favorite keychain on the other, you and Jisung start to make your way back to your apartment. It was getting late, and they have to be done by now.

There’s a few moments of peace before you hear Jisung audibly trying to suppress his laughter. He’s trying not to giggle, and you know exactly why.

Your jaw drops, hitting him on his upper arm before sulking.

He doesn’t even need to tell you for you to know he’s laughing at your ice cream eating skills (your popsicle’s already melting and you’ve desperately been trying to finish it before it dissipates for the past few seconds).

There’s a taunting smile on his face as he apologizes. “I’m sorryyy.” He drawls the last syllable, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“You just look so cute.”

Something ricochets in your stomach the moment he says that, and you really hope he can’t hear your heart racing over his obnoxious giggling.

Jisung doesn’t know where he got the confidence to say that aloud. He’s also hoping the streetlights are dim enough for you not to notice the redness on the tip of his ears.

When you arrive, you immediately recognize the boy hurriedly rushing out of the apartment as your neighbor’s boyfriend. And when he speeds past the pair of you with a sheepish and shy smile on his face, you immediately make eye contact with Jisung.

Another fit of laughter breaks out.

And as you laugh and giggle over the poor boy’s obvious embarrassment, your eyes drift over towards Jisung, your newfound friend and how his eyes glint with genuine happiness and how he feels so comfortable to be with.

Similarly, Jisung finds himself mirroring your gaze. Somehow, he feels that starting today, things are definitely going to change between the two of you and the possible shift of your interactions into something more constant makes his heart flutter.

Before today, Han Jisung was just another boy who lived on the same floor as you, who you shared a few small pleasantries with. However, as the pair of you walk back to your rooms with your plastic bags of popsicle and candy wrappers and the hint of laughter still bubbling in your throats, you can tell that this moment right now with him feels like the beginning of something wonderful.

You hate to be told to be grateful, but in the stupidity of your own reflection, you are. For what – you’re starting to think it has something to do with the boy next to you.

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bau-drabbles · 7 months

Text

the night we met, part 3

a/n: hope you enjoy! mentions of torture and guns throughout, kinda long and unrealistic but its fanfic so 🥴

what if haley never died that day? but what if your love for hotchner had to?

part 1, 2

"have you found her yet?!" hotch barked the order out as penelope frantically searched through copious amount of cctv footage all at once. several computer screens were open for the team, trying to find a clue on the location of where you had been taken.

"not yet sir" garcia whispered, her fingers practically flying across the keyboard silently begging for any sign where you could've left. hotch tried to reign his anger back in, this wasn't anyone fault but himself. if only he had caught up to you, just 60 seconds before you wouldn't have been here. if only that stupid kiss hadn't even happened, you wouldn't be god knows where getting tortured.

he takes a breath, knowing deep down it's not the time to react emotionally but it's hard not to, it's hard to even think rationally when he knows the likelihood of you surviving wasn't all that great. his profiler brain knew the possible outcome from this wasn't exactly high and with every second his worst fear could potentially become true.

"have you found her?" haley's voice cuts in and hotch shakes his head, his fingers pinching his temple for any signs that he must've missed. it feels overwhelming around him, flashes of people and the sounds of you seeping through his mind. it's dizzying trying to piece together what's real and what's not, flashes of you and that damned kiss is all that plays on his mind. the softness of your lips, the utter desperation between you both, the sheer passion that radiated in waves, all of it. he needed it again, he craved it.

it's even worse when his wife, the mother of his child, the very woman you almost got shot for, is standing there looking at with concern but he doesn't take any notice. he never would've though haley's voice could be so shrill and irritating, he never could've imagined himself recoiling away from her. so he simply doesn't answer her, sighing as he tries to go over the footage with garcia. he should tell her about the kiss but his lips remain closed, not willing to share anything more about you to her.

"well i can help-" "haley please. go home protect jack, he needs one of us" hotch dismisses her, his heart becoming in control of the situation. he can't stand to look at her, feeling so guilty for kissing another woman but even worse because he didn't regret doing it. his only regret was not kissing you for longer. still, hotch knew he was being overly harsh but the pure fear, the worry of you being alone and he wasn't there was enough to send him tumbling into a pit of pure distress.

but he took a breath, now was not the time to become emotional. he had to get his head in the game. the risk of losing you was too much to bear but the thought of you being out there, chained to a devil was enough to keep him going.

"police have set up roadblocks blocking any main exits in the city. if they've travelled, they can't leave the country" jj and emily come in, but the information isn't enough. who knows what the man could've been doing to you by now, who knows what terrible inflictions could've been upon you.

"we've checked any significant location but they've all come negative, the detectives are checking for any last known locations and the camera footage when they leave...." morgan and spencer are next to enter, their shoulders deflating in disappointment and sadness being unable to find you.

"we'll find her aaron" rossi pats hotch's shoulders and though the sentiment is sweet, any hope is starting to crumble and diminish now. you were just here, how could they not find you yet? the bau was supposed to be one of the safest buildings, how could someone so easily take you away like that?? his resolve was breaking and if he wasn't careful, all the feelings that were locked up tightly would begin to spill before he could've comprehended it. the truth he was too scared to admit would be admitted and he didn't know how long he could hide it for

before anyone could respond, a beeping appeared. and there beheld a sight they wished they would never have had to see.

taking a good glance at you, all seven team members found their hearts shattering piece by piece in their chests. a chorus of horrified gasps and exclaims echoed throughout the room and hotch could barely even breathe, the words dying on his lips

"aaaand here we go" you hear a click, the whirr of a computer and it takes you all your strength to awaken. an overwhelming feeling of tiredness practically envelopes your body, how easily you could fall into the darkness that awaits your presence. and then the unfamiliar feeling of being tied up grabs you attention, fear courses through your veins as your eyes open and adjust to the setting. it felt like a hospital room but this was no place where people were fixed. the sickly smell of blood and bleach is strong in the air, its overpowering and nauseating

but you calm your mind, it wasn't the time to panic. you had to think, you had to fight, you had to survive

your vision was slightly blurred looking at the man who held you captive, trying to ignore the intense throbbing in your head. your hands were cuffed to some chain, holding you upright on your feet. but he loosens something and you fall to the ground with a soft thud, vision spinning from the lack of hydration and the beatings he had given you prior.

"ohmy god.... y/n??" a breathless whisper echoes throughout the room and painfully, you glance at the camera. there, all your team members stood in complete horror. you see hotch and for the first time since you had known him, he's at a loss for words. just looking at you with so much pain, so much anger, so much fear.

you could feel your cheeks burning from shame and embarrassment, at your situation or the kiss you didn't really know. you didn't even want to know.

"y/n?? are you okay??? someone tell me she's okay please-" garcia looks on tearfully while morgan comes behind her, guiding her to the computer. truthfully they didn't have an answer to her question but they needed to focus, to keep you alive. and you didn't need to be disrupted, not when your life was at stake.

"that was to prove she's very much alive so none of you have to worry" and just like that you're brought up to your feet again, groaning when the handcuffs pinch the skin tightly. there's so much pain, you can't even pinpoint where it hurts the most.

"what is she dressed in?" someone seethed and you blink in confusion, craning your neck to see your body. it was a black gown you were in, a slit riding up the thigh. it was beautiful, too pretty to be drenched in blood. a stark contrast to the situation you were in now.

"don't worry i didn't change her, i had someone else to do it for me. my prizes have to look picture perfect" he brushes a piece of your hair and you swing your head out of the way, eliciting a kick from him. you don't even cry out, gasping for air at the momentum he had lunged at you with. your hands grip around the handcuffs but it was useless, you couldn't claw your way out of metal.

"you stupid bitch!" his fingers grip your face, you could see just how much his rage consumed him. it was unnerving to say the least, the slightest thing seemed to tick him off. there was no telling what he could do to you in this state

"enough!" hotch grits out, his fingers clenching into tight fists by his side. piece by piece his facade was cracking underneath the unsub's hammer. he couldn't reign in his control this time, not with your life being threatened

"who are you?" you grit out painfully, trying to stop the wave of nausea hitting you over and over. the man doesn't answer, the head of his gun trailing from your chin to the centre of your neck. you hear the click of the revolver and your breath is hitched, wondering if he was really going to kill you this way. wondering if you'd be shot in front of your team that remained helpless on the other side

"i've always wondered what the price was for killing an fbi agent was-" you see the man's cruel smile hit you can't answer, the fear felt overpowering.

"don't you dare" hotch snarls, surprising everyone with the intensity of his rage. and to your surprise, it had worked. the man eyed hotch and with a soft grin, dropped his gun and you felt your lungs take their first breath. tears pricked your eyes, the tiredness was practically swimming in your body but you couldn't crumble. not in front of the unsub, not in front of your team. and especially not in front of hotch.

"i think we should play a game, no?" the man smiles sadistically, pointing to you again. any strength you once held was shattering minutes by minute. your mind and body fighting over one another, wanting to give in and give up but forcing yourself to stay awake no matter what

"leave her alone! i can have you arrested on multiple accounts of-" hotch's face was unreadable, his hands etched tightly around the monitor but the unsub gestures to his mouth, to silence them all.

"if you want her alive, you'll do what i say. good luck trying to pinpoint our location, right now the cell service is bouncing around several cell towers all across the globe" frustrated, hotch looks towards garcia who was working feverishly and she sadly nods, it wasn't a clear location no matter how times she tried to hack into the system. she was hit waves and waves after a firewall which could take hours, time you didn't have to spare.

"so back to the game, who wants to start? oh and if anyone moves," you feel the pinch of a knife resting dangerously on the pulse in your neck.

"one twist and she's on the ground and i'll be miles away. and this would've been all for nothing" he moves the knife down to the centre of your neck. leaving spots of blood in its wake. all of them look helplessly at each other, the unsub had them right where he wanted them and they knew. any slight movement would guarantee your death, any secret calls would have you beaten before they could hang up.

you were all at his mercy, whether they liked it or not

"derek morgan" the unsub peered around the group and his eyes settle on him eerily. morgan gulps a little, trying to calm his shaking hands. his eyes looks at you helplessly then back to the unsub where his gaze had hardened as puts up his profiler front once more

"we're starting off easy, how many years have you and agent l/n known each other" the question was simple enough and yet it felt like he asked into the lions den, suddenly feeling rather exposed and confused. as if any answer to this simple question would be wrong even if it was the truth

"wha-" derek began but he heard a sound of disapproval and your shocked wince as you were yanked back by your hair

"wrong answer" you weren't even given a warning or a countdown before you feel a surge of hot white pain floods through your body. painful screams rip out through your mouth, your hands desperately clawing at the handcuffs but its to no avail. the team stand there panicking, yelling at the man to stop. the pain was intense, you could've almost passed out from the pure agony crippling you

"waitwait wait stop stop!!! it's three!!! i've known her three years!!!" derek shouts, banging the screen and the pain is low dull one, you gasp and gulp for oxygen that never fully reaches your lungs.

"if you had answered the first time around, none of this would have happened would it?" he scowls, giving you a nudge with the stick. you gasp out for air, your tongue heavy on your lips as your body groans against the ties holding you up

"hurry up garcia" hotch commands under his breath to penelope, her eyes watering as she's trying desperately get some location on you. jj and emily help, trying not to look at the horror that was unfolding and focus their attention on bringing you back safely.

"i'm so sorry, i'm so sorry-" morgan whispers, his hands shaking looking to and back from you and the unsub. hotch can only stare with his mind spinning, breathing coming out in short bursts, his heart feeling like it had plunged to the deepest darkest parts of the earth. he's losing his composure and as much as he's trying to reel it back, it keeps slipping from him. leaving nothing but a vulnerable scared man

"how you doing?" the man prods your head and you could only gasp at the anguish flooding your body. if it weren't for the incredibly tight rope holding you upright, you would've collapsed a long time ago.

"doesn't she look so pretty?" he holds your face mockingly and turns so the rest of them can see. every member of your team feel their hearts shattering and splintering, their hitched gasps of panic at the beating.

"agent hotchner" the unsub asked another question, his dark eyes settling on hotch. a manical grin on his lips as he revels in the alarm he has inflicted on the whole team. as if it gives him satisfaction that your life danced in his hands and your team members could do nothing but watch

"truth or dare?" the unsub smirks and hotch looks at you, his stoic facade crumbling. his heart was falling into a million pieces he's not sure he'll ever recover from

"truth" hotch utters, his voice completely free from the cold tone he usually dons.

"do you love agent l/n??" the chain holding you upright once again loosens, and that sends you tumbling to the floor in a broken beaten pile. your heart was racing, partly because of the pain but mostly due to what he would answer. with a good amount of strength, you raise your head and look at the camera. looking at his face, how his eyes flickers with so many emotions and how you can practically see his resolve breaking away

hotch was a good liar but seeing your broken defeated face, being unable to help you, he had answered the question without even realising.

"yes" the murmur was soft, his voice cracking as he takes in your approach. he had caused this. he had done this to you. the promise of protection was nothing more than jumbled words at his feet. he broke the very thing he swore on you, how could ever look at you the same again?

"aww what a cute lil romantic story this has evolved into" the unsub had cackled and your head shook, glaring at both hotch and the man who had held you captive

"there's nothing... romantic about this" your voice was weak but firm, refusing to even meet hotch's eyes.

"shut up" the man had gripped you, ignoring the protest your team were calling. it felt like too much, he held your chin and you look at him, it was now or never. you had to escape, you had to be free.

you had to survive

with one swift move, all your strength goes in knocking him down. he tumbles to the table, breaking the rotting wood with ease. the instruments clatter and you get up, hissing when your abdomen stretched a little. looking down, you see your body littered with blood and bruises. a huge burn mark plastering your side as the dress ripped apart but you didn't have time to feel sorry for yourself when you hear voices crying out that he was attacking again

"in front, y/n!!" derek commands and you duck, making him fall into the table. you quickly grabbing the keys from the scattered objects on the floor, jamming it into the lock and twiddling until you felt a click. the metal loosens and you feel them slipping off, eternally grateful that for once the universe was on your side.

you didn't get time to react for when you look in front, he's there again. but your leg connects with his groin, remembering the training moves you were taught. the force of the kick was enough to paralyse him for a few minutes as he screamed. you looked around, quickly trying to find some keys to unlock the door. your freedom was close, you could practically taste it as you rushed around.

and then you had made the biggest mistake of looking into the camera for a second.

in that second you catch a glimpse of hotch's face, it completely startles you. as if the world had stilled for a fleeting moment and all you see is hotch, just looking at you with so many emotions it's hard to decipher which is the most dominant. how despite everything, you want to hug him and never let go. your body inbetween his arms and your head against his heart, protected against any and all bad in this world. and then you remember the heartache he's caused you, the moment that had led up to you getting captured and every memory is a dagger to your heart. how could things have gotten so wrong?

but it was that moment that was used to the unsub's advantage

you hear screams echoing in the room but you don't comprehend until you feel a burning sensation completely puncture your abdomen. gasping, you look down to see blood gathering at your feet and dripping down your legs and before you even look back up, the object breaks the skin a second time. as if it was all in slow motion, your teams watched the horrific steps play out like a twisted play.

"i told you not to mess with me, you stupid bitch!" he grips and twists the object once more, resulting in a breathless gasp leaving your lips. the pain felt intense, a throbbing sensation overtaking you as you collapse. the horrible sound of your skin being punctures all but echoes in hotch's head, unable to do anything but to scream your name. shocked screams echo in the bau room, penelope's fingers are furiously typing away as she squeezes her eyes, unable to stop the horrible penetrative sound of your skin being stabbed in her mind.

the pain grows worse by the second and your scream dies on your lips, eyes fluttering closed ready to accept and await the darkness that overtakes your consciousness.

"nonono.... no!!!" hotch could barely manage a whisper, banging the screen as if he could magically appear to your aide. but he was simply doomed to watch you as you suffer and collaspe to the ground, breathing quickening. this couldn't be, this couldn't be the end.

you can see him and painfully you turn to watch his face. you don't know what emotions has crossed over his features, he still looks as beautiful as he did the first day you had set eyes upon him. how lucky you were to experience what it was like to be kissed by such a man, to be able to be in the presence of such a wonderful person. your tears had blurred your vision, not out of pain but out of gratitude. even laying on this cold floor, bleeding out, you were purely thankful for him.

he had protected you before and now it was your turn, this way he could focus on his wife and child. you would never be in the way again. there's a hint of the softest smile upon your lips as your eyes close. your fists loosened, limbs becoming limp as you closed your eyes, allowing the darkness to fully encapsulate your mind and body. maybe in a different world, a lighter one, you and hotch could be together against all odds.

the screen fizzles into a black page and hotch barely lets a breath out he didn't think he was holding. his hands have gripped the chairs, he didn't trust himself to stand without the support. he could feel his eyes prickling with the tears as hard as he tried to disguise them, his world was falling apart at the seams and he couldn't do a thing to fix it. all he wants is to be with you but now he didn't even know if you were alive anymore, that thoughts sends him further spiralling in his despair. he wanted nothing more than the ground to completely swallow him whole, the lump in his throat growing bigger as his team members looks at him. partly with concern, fear and pure sadness.

the room was completely silent, everyone's faces covered with a look of pure sorrow and so much anguish.

penelope's tears won't stop trickling down her cheeks. emily and jj look at each other with helplessness, their tears shining underneath the lights. morgan and reid lean against the table their hearts thundering in their chest, completely unable to process what had just taken place while rossi sits by a chair his head in his hands at the pure shock and pain running through him.

"it-it didn't look that terrible, she could still.... be alive" against his better judgement reid offers his support softly. the crushing weight of your absence completely crumbling hotch in a way they've never seen before.

"she was stabbed twice, reid. don't be so naive to think she could've possibly survived that alongside with the beating he had delivered. you above all, should know that much" his voice was harsher than he intended, heavy as the lump in his throat grew bigger. it felt like the air was being cut off, his thoughts ricocheting across from one another as his knees give way and he crashes to the floor in pure defeat and torture. he could faintly feel someone come to his help, his name being called but his mouth refuses to answer. all he can think about, all his mind is replaying is the moment before you closed your eyes. how he wasn't there to help you, how he couldn't rescue you this time.

you could've still been there with them had he been to your aid just 60 seconds earlier. if he had chased you quickly, you wouldn't be beaten and bruised within an inch of your life and now you were... gone. his heart felt like it was being twisted painfully, gripped tight as the thought of never hearing your laugh and seeing your smile became permanent. the dam had broken and the tears spilled down his face, his hands clutching the carpet but to no avail.

what we he supposed to do now, haunting by the memory of you like this? what was he supposed to do haunted with the ghost of you?

#criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader angst #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x y/n

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blkgirl-writing · 4 months

Note

hi!! i just read your massive headcanon list for gale (loved it btw) and i desperately need one astarion as well!! ❤️

Astarions Massive list of SFW and NSFW headcanons (Part 1?)

Literally of course!! I wasn’t sure the people wanted this so I was waiting for a request. I’m bundling a lot of my astarion requests in this one too so if you see an ask you did it’s probably inspired!

TW: Acended Astarion section, details on physical and mental abuse there. I will put a warning for where it starts and ends. Some headcanons are more illuded to "female" anatomy, not all headcanons will reveal much

Astarion is somehow so soft with his touch yet rough and almost feral when he really desires you

He will trace every inch of your body with such light, soft fingers, but grab onto your hips tight and nearly thrust you into him. Gently kiss you neck before sinking his teeth into your skin

Because honestly his true desires, wants, and needs, are unfiltered and less calculated than his normal affair

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

TW START

I do have to include acended astarion here because I don’t want to write him fully, so here’s that section. I feel like too many people want acended Astarion to be loving and caring. That unfortunately isn't the truth of the cycle of abuse

It doesn’t last, his love for you. It extinguishes fast, like water to a flame. He becomes cold and controlling

The only was I can see a happy future for tav and Astarion ascended is a Durge, where you rule the land together, ignoring the heart you once had together. It’s lots of bickering. If chaos is your turn on, this is it

Lots of hate sex and screaming matches. At least one per month where you both loose your voice before the argument ends and red marks across eachothers bodies

And honestly, I think one of you kills the other, in a fit of rage. But still whoever dies would get a grave stone. Small, unlabeled, a sort of revenge for the people who wanted it all. Forced in a common place with no success flaunted and easily forgotten

TW ENDED

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion holds hand in his sleep, rather than cuddling

A hand is all he needs to feel like he’s in the safest place in the world

Full spooning is just too intimate and personal until much later In your relationship. He wasn’t ready for something so real yet

There's a lot of pushing and pulling til he gets comfortable, but he will always make sure you know that he loves you and wants your touch, there's a lot of learning along the way

He just hasn't experienced the seriousness of true love and compassion for someone he truly feels he can't lose. It's scary, loving so much that your death would lead to his emotional one, if not physically as well

Astarion would never admit it but he would do just about anything for you

he becomes somewhat soft, which, initially annoys him, but he finally accepts it after a few weeks

He realized when you looked at him, with brightness in your eyes, asking him something important, he really wasn't listening

All he could think was to never make those eyes cry again, he'd do anything to stop you from feeling like that again

Your first date isn't very planned

After a fun but quick night on the beach, you get clothed and Astarion stares at you, taking all of your skin in, as it slowly gets hidden by clothing. A bit of a shame, he couldn't see you bare all the time

There was a blanket and you both lay on it for some time, in silence. Slowly, you feel his pinky finger graise yours. You hook them together, and simply watch the moon in the sky, fading in and out of sleep. Astarion doesn't get any closer or further, but he does sigh a few times

And for the first time, when you wake up, he's still there

Your second date was much more of a traditional date, at least for you two

Astarion had the bright idea to sneak as much alcohol as possible from the inn

feet dipped in the cold water of the docks, four bottles of quality whiskey polished off, and working on a fifth, you were positively hammered

Astarions head was leaning on your shoulder, arm slumped around your waist

the laughing and mumbled words only get louder and louder with each sip, and at some point, Astarion looks up at you, a small glint of his sharp teeth peering out of a smirk, and he leans into you further, pressing his lips against yours doe a deep kiss

it was almost aromatic. A charm whispered in your ear that made his lips taste like roses and sugar, with a hint of copper, you feel your own tongue lick his bottom lip, needing more of whatever that taste was

the night was a blur, after that. Too drunk to really remember much the next day, but you both knew there wasn't going back after that. There was a bond, now, with feelings more than just lust and need

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion fucking you feels like getting close to a campfire, warm, hot, even, like getting any closer may kill you, pounding and scraping, biting and bleeding, breath thick and hot

When you fuck Astarion, everything feels light, it flows like water over a riverbed, he lets you ravish him in a gentle, caring sense

His attention is all over you, but your neck clearly has his attention-grabbing the back of your neck, kisses down it, bite marks, hickeys, licks, even cum, sometimes, purposefully dripped on your face, but mostly on your neck and collarbone

It definitely also is just a very obvious placement, it can show that you fuck, he fucks you, and you love it. It gets to the point where there are faded bruises, bite marks, and scratches littering across your whole neck, it almost looks like tattoos, and a few passersby comment on it.

Astarion had a very smug smile on his face that day, and that night he ravished you with more passion than ever before

What else can I say, Astarion fucks, but I do think once you really start your relationship, there's a lot of re-learning of what he really wants

so sex starts off fairly vanilla, adding stuff in, changing it out, uses of safe words and communication being key, a safe, loving space between you and him where he is never used and he never uses you, it's just pleasure and ecstasy

I believe he'd be open to a closed relationship as well, at least for a while, especially if you choose the path of the underdark for your future

Literally not even once do you wear protection either lol

It's messed up so TW, I have a feeling Cazador made sure Astarion could never procreate, giving him an attachment to anyone is dangerous, and something to fight for even more so. Having his own offspring would never be an option for him

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

There would never be normalcy in your relationship, that's kind of the beauty of it

Every single day is different, there is never a moment that passes with Astarion that isn't unique

Especially when Astarion is adjusting to a life where he has to think and care for another, a routine isn't comforting to him, spontaneity is important in your early relationship

Astarion is still very romantic in his own ways, kissing your fingers hugs from behind, small, light touches across your whole body

The first time you nearly die? my god. He's incredibly distant for a few days

and when you ask what's up he would definitely blow up

like what were you thinking? Going in like that, you could have died! You could have left him alone again

He cries softly in your arms, then, repeats how you could have died. It seems like forever, that he stays there, tears dripping down your skin, cold

From then on he always looks back at you, in battle, before striking, to make sure you're ok, accounted for

------

hey! What other HCs would ya'll like me to add in the next part! I haven't romanced Astarion more than twice so I may need a little help there, haha. But thank you for reading!!

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic @fapqueen

(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)

#astarion #baldurs gate 3 #x reader #smut #baldurs gate #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion x dark urge #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate headcanon #headcanons #x reader smut #x reader fluff #fluff

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fear-is-truth · 1 month

Text

𝑳𝑬𝑻 𝑴𝑬 𝑩𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑫𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳 ⴰ༢ ୧

── being kai anderson’s manipulative girlfriend hc

tags: fem! reader. nsfw + sfw. kai is a warning himself, you aren’t any better though (manipulative behavior.) talks of murder, sex

taglist || masterlist

☪︎ ִ ࣪my friend said that this hc sounds like how she’d imagine my relationship with Kai. kind of a low blow but also the best compliment ever so.. no complaints

your ability to see through his lies and manipulation frustrates him to no end, as Kai was accustomed to everyone doing whatever he told them to

you won’t follow every single order Kai gave you, unless you think it’s feasible. most of the time, you operate on your own terms

your independent activities would annoy Kai, as he prefers to maintain control over all activities in F.I.T

however, once he recognizes how your actions benefit the cult's agenda, his fury would give way to reluctant admiration

as his girlfriend and second in command, you hold a delicate position in the cult - dangerously close to the centre of power and yet somehow the safest, as your connection to him gives you some degree of protection

any cult member who annoys you? good as dead. you’d find a way to frame them or make Kai get suspicious of them

he hates it when you boss the other cult members around, but also secretly thinks it’s kinda hot

Winter would have mixed feelings about you. she thinks you’re cool but she’s also lowkey afraid of you because you remind her of her brother sometimes

you’re the only one who can keep Kai in line (sort of)

but you’re also capable of making him worse. and vice versa (couple goals)

he puts a tracker in your phone, which you found out and dismantled it

pinky power is completely pointless

it’ll be personal contest— who’s the better liar? you two have the best poker faces

you were the first one to drink the “poisoned” kool aid. risky move but worth it

you carry a bottle of Adderall for Kai at all times. he even trusts you enough to let you administer the pill directly into his mouth

ways to manipulate him

kill for him. that’s an instant hard-on

feed that ego. you praise his leadership skills, intelligence and charisma, deepening his belief in his own superiority

mother him. wash his hair when you shower together. assist him with shaving. lay out his clothes for him. make him manwiches

behind the guise of nurturing gestures, every act of practical care serves as a small manipulation, reinforcing his dependency on you while gradually asserting your influence over him

you’ll have him wrapped around your little finger

councilman at day, clown at night

you’d play a crucial role in his election campaigns, acting as the perfect arm candy to bolster his public image

in public settings, you display affection in subtle yet very calculated ways:

holding hands, staring into each others eyes, sharing deep kisses— strategically timed for the cameras to capture

and the media would eat it all up

it’ll enhance Kai's image as a loving and passionate partner

you were the one who came up with the staged assassination stunt

Meadow was getting too close to Kai, and it irked you. so you planted that idea into Kai’s head, and he put it into action

Meadow got laid and then died, Kai got elected councilman, and you have your man all to yourself.. win-win-win situation!

wear a sexy clown outfit that comes with a corset and shows cleavage

it will distract Kai and piss him off because he has to maintain his dignity as a leader while trying to hide his raging boner

violence also turns him on; Kai likes his girls crazy. be the harley quinn to his joker

incorporate deadpan humour. during these fucked up situations, gotta lighten up the mood with disturbing and witty remarks

nsfw headcanons

Kai would ask you to seduce more followers into joining the cult

and the hypocrite would get so jealous, even though it was his idea

sex will be bomb though. he’d put in extra effort to prove that he’s superior

you give each other hickeys, lots

needless to say, you’d be the sub. that’s basically the no.1 rule in your relationship

better to squeeze a few tears during sex. it’ll fuel his ego, big time

if you’re giving him head, gag on purpose

he tells you that once he becomes president of the U.S, you’d be First Lady and he’ll fuck you in every single room in the White House (132 in total)

needless to say that you’re going to be the perfect mother of his messiah baby

a/n: i’m actually a sweetheart, don’t listen to my friend. oh and buzz-cut kai can rail me

TAGLIST @acidbrainstorm @evanpetersmybf @alittlesil @kaiandersonsdevotedwife @ellaaaaa44 @newwavesylviaplath @warrenlipkaswife @slvt4jamesmarch @kaismanwich @maddaline @evpeters87 @lacucarachapisser @howtobesasha @nickrhodeslittledarling @bluerthanvelvet444 @r8ttenapples @nahoyasboyfriend @kai-slut @lak3cityqui3tpills @coentinim @doll3tt33 @taintandviolent @babygorewhore @stveharringtn @violet1737 @sukirosiac @slutforgarlogan @90sbr1descake

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utterlyazriel · 2 months

Text

whom the shadows sing for — (and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: here she is... chappie four <3 thank u for ur patience and 1000 kudos to the anon that made a plot suggestion that i had already written lmao-- as always let me know what u think! things are heating up....

word count: just under 4k

synopsis: You return to regular training for the first time in a month. Azriel asks a favor from Rhys and finds you in a less than stellar condition when he returns to camp

CHAPTER FOUR :: FRIENDS

Velaris is a sight for sore eyes.

After nearly a month of endless white scenery, of the blinding glint of the sun against snow, paired with endless pine, the sight of a city is a reprieve in itself.

And because it’s Velaris — because it’s home — something else settles within Azriel.

A hackle that always stays on high alert finally lies down. The constant agitation of his shadows falls into a calming hush. He breathes easier.

He's back with his family and can be here to keep them safe if need be. He's back to the closest semblance of comfort he's ever known.

Where do you find comfort?

Azriel blinks a little, taken aback at the abruptness of the thought.

The lone shelter in the mountains, spaced out from the circle of buildings, every bit representing your isolation from the people of the camp — that was your home.

Where you resided and took solace from the world in, the place you felt safest. But... it's no place of comfort. It's a crutch. A necessary support. Somehow, Azriel has no doubt that if you could survive out in the snow, burrowed amidst the elements, you would, if only to have one less thing to maintain.

You've never even seen a city before, he thinks. All you know is the mountains.

Suddenly, eyes cast across the breathtaking beauty of Velaris, the hum of the Sidra carving its way through his beloved home, the buzz of people on the streets, Azriel recalls the very time he lay eyes on it himself.

It never stops being breathtaking. That much is true, but then again, there was no comparison to the first time.

The warm feeling that had grown in his chest. The way something he hadn't known ever existed within him had unfurled, like a flower blooming in the sun. Something Azriel now knows to be hope.

He hadn't known a place this beautiful could exist.

Wouldn't have been able to dream it up when all he had known for so, so long was darkness and shadow.

Even in the time after the cage, all there was to see was the white of winter and the cold bite of the harsh mountains. He learned how blood looked melting into the snow, how to sleep with one eye open, and all the different shades of cruelty.

Azriel remembers being unable to comprehend the sight, the stumble in his heart at the indisputable proof before him. That despite what had been drilled into him by his father, his brothers, by every Illyrian warrior who punched down on bastards, there was a place where peace reigned above all.

People who lived in harmony. Where Art and music are considered a treasure alongside other skills, each equally important. And Azriel belonged there, as much as any of them.

It had been one thing to walk through the city, to marvel at every cobblestone, at the trims lining each and every window, to have people regard him with such a polite and casual manner — not a second glance at his wings or his hands.

It had been something else entirely to fly over it as night fell.

Mountain ridges illuminated by his most constant friend, the rising moon, watching the moonlight spill over the dark red rock of the mountain and paint it ever softer. Sweet ocean air and the very perfume of the city intertwined within the current as he soared above it, mighty wings beating.

Azriel could remember that first day and night in Velaris vividly, like an unforgettable dream. How easy it had been to fall in love with it, to let its arms unfurl and to allow himself to make a home within them.

Looking out across it now, as Faelights begin to twinkle and blink to life as the night creeps in, all Azriel can think of is how much he wants that for you.

To bring you here. To have both of you fly above the city and wander down the streets aimlessly, to show you that there were places far kinder in this world than all you had known before.

He yearns for you to have the same dawning realisation he did—that so much more existed outside of those gods forsaken mountains.

Azriel knows you're a very guarded male. You have more than enough reasons to be. He's already pushed a thousand boundaries you have and each time you let him into your sanctuary in the mountains is a sign of enormous trust.

Maybe for that reason, Azriel wants to be the first to extend that kindness to you.

A twinge in his chest sings a different, golden answer.

Azriel ignores it and steals one more look out at his home, swallowing down how all logic seems to be pointing to the same thing, time and time again.

He finds the High Lord in his study, papers stacked high on his desk that have only grown higher in Azriel's absence. His dark hair is tousled in a way that means he's been running his hand through it too much.

Azriel lifts the shadows from beneath his feet as he enters, letting the other hear the sound of his soft footsteps. Rhys looks up at the new arrival. Despite his tired appearance, it does nothing to dim the grin that overtakes his lips at the sight of his brother.

"My, my, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

Azriel grins back, stepping forward Rhys pushes back from his desk and stands. His usual wings have been hidden away through his magic and Azriel notices their absence when he pulls him into a brief hug. Rhys lingers close, his violet eyes raking over his friend.

"Not bad to see you either."

"You flatter me." Rhys purrs, his voice all buttery and smooth. "You've got new eyebags. Overworking yourself as usual, are we Az?"

"I presume you make such lovely comments about Feyre too?"

"And risk her wrath?" Rhys smiles, eyes glittering at the mention of his mate. "Never."

Azriel rolls his eyes, letting his obvious endearment at his brother's happiness show. They truly are a perfect pair.

He crosses his arms across his broad chest tightly, if only to hide the fleeting flicker of wanting the spools tight in his chest. A ribbon of envy, woven between his ribs.

If Rhys notices, he doesn't comment. Instead, he says, "Usually, you're itching to escape the mountains but not this time I see."

He pauses, eyeing up the Shadowsinger to see what response it'll give. Azriel yields no comment back. Expecting this, Rhys smiles.

"Either way, you'll be happy to hear that Cassian has returned from his time off and is ready to resume his usual duties."

Azriel stills at the words.

He knew that Cassian would at one point return to his usual positions and that Azriel himself, would return to his spymaster post. But it's come sooner than expected. Perhaps, time with you has been passing far quicker than Azriel thought.

"I found the cause of the rumours."

"Yes, I assumed you had," Rhys says, wandering back around the deck to slump into his chair. He leans one arm against the armrest, his knuckles against his temple.

"I also assumed that you spent all that time dealing with it. Much of a problem?"

Azriel considers his words carefully. The trust he's managed to garner with you is fragile, though he knows his friend would not severe it or interfere if he asked.

Another part of him knows it's unusual behavior of him, to offer his skills so willingly to a stranger. But, well, you're not exactly a stranger anymore.

"There's a male.” Azriel begins, choosing his words carefully. “A bastard, the one causing all the stir-ups. He feeds the other bastards when he can. It's what had Lord Mylind kicking a fuss."

Rhys curses lightly at the realisation of just which camp they are dealing with.

"He's learning to make healing tonics," Azriel continues, noting how Rhys' head straightens up a fraction. Interested. "In hopes of slipping them to freshly clipped females. To see if it can reverse the damage."

Rhys sits back in his chair completely, his hand brushing over his mouth in deep contemplation. For a moment, he says nothing.

"I suppose I don't need to ask if there's been any female training then."

Azriel feels himself glower instinctively, his wings hiking up an inch higher without meaning to. He thinks of Lord Mylind and the conversation he had on the first day in their camp. The sheer display of male arrogance, snarling, and threatening violence outright.

"No.”

Rhys curses again, his eyes crushing closed. He seems to filter through a pained reaction, his face contorting until it lands on a tired resignation.

“The camp of Exordor made very good on a bargain struck during a very hard time.” Rhys grits the words out.

Something dangerous flashes in his eyes at the mention of the deal that had turned sour. A cold ripple of night shudders through the room.

No amount of soldiers supplied during the war had been worth the suffering that camp Exodor alone produced— or continues to produce if the whispers that came out of there held an inkling of truth.

It’s a rotten place, tucked deep in the mountains, and some of the worst brutes Rhys has ever had the displeasure of meeting were born in the bowels of that place.

“It doesn’t lift for another 50 years." Rhys sighs, his voice wavering with a hint of shame. "I can’t touch them without slaughtering them all— innocent or not.”

Azriel didn’t say anything for a moment. This information is not new. He watches as Rhys digests his silence, leaning back in his chair as the wheels spin in his head, dizzyingly fast.

For the second time, Rhys' brows jump.

“You’re helping him.”

Not a question.

Azriel nods.

"You don't want Cassian to take back over."

"No," Azriel murmurs. "Not yet. The male is... He's guarded. Isolated. It has taken time to earn his trust. I believe in what he wants to do and I believe he has what it takes to achieve it.”

He thinks of the quiet evenings within your shelter, your patience as you taught Azriel what you could — how you took every piece of information from him on the chin, not one complaint of ever tiring. He thinks of the heaving in his chest, the tug on his heart.

"I ask that you let me see this out." Azriel finishes, his shoulders rolling back as he stands tall. Let Rhys understand how this had become more than just a mission to him; it’s a personal calling, one he must answer, one that he needs to see out to the end.

Rhys surveys him intensely, unblinking for a moment. Then something devious crosses his face, catching in a smile.

"That's not the only thing you want to ask me, is it?"

Azriel looks to the ground, suddenly bashful. This would be entirely too revealing of the closeness he felt, to ask this, to offer this. He asks anyway.

"I wish, with your permission, to take Heartstriker." Azriel's voice rumbles lowly. He forces his eyes back up, meeting Rhys' strong gaze. "To gift to him."

Something dips into Rhys' smile, threatening a smirk and for that reason alone, Azriel feels his ears tinge hotly. His face remains calm, however, giving nothing away.

"Heartstriker? As a gift?" Rhys repeats, with a sly smile. "Pray tell Brother, when's the wedding? Since when have you ever been known for gift giving, let alone something as dear to you, such as a sword? I might just have to meet this bastard."

Azriel’s ears only get hotter, betraying him. He prays it doesn't show on his face, though he's sure the increased swirlings of his shadows give him away. And Rhys’ infallible ability to read his flustering each and every time.

"Is that permission?"

Rhys, seemingly realising he won't be getting any juicy details, quits tormenting his brother with a flourish of his hand. He leans back in his chair relaxed, a softness creeping into his expression.

"It's been yours to take all these years, Az." Rhys finally lands on. "You did earn it, after all."

—

The shelter looks bigger without him here.

Betrayingly, it’s the first thought you have when the door swings open, letting you into your nest of safety. You heave in a breath that rattles loudly and it gets swept up in the foul whistle of the Mother's Kiss.

On your side, your blood-soaked hand clutches your abdomen tightly. Pain spiderwebs up your body, fraying every nerve with a burning agony.

Every step feels loud and clumsy.

You cough as softly as you can, yet still feel the warmth of blood on your lips. The familiar metallic tang overwhelms your mouth.

You must be dripping blood behind you, dragging a slushy mess of crimson snow in on your boots. Fuck, what are you doing again? Your head throbs. They must've knocked your head hard this time if you're losing focus this quickly.

The Mother's Kiss howls fiercely, a reminder of the cruelty outside your little haven.

Right. You remember you need to close the door— and you shove the deadbolt closed along with it. If your ribs were aching a little less, you would reach up and do up the second deadbolt too, at the top of the door. You try to anyway.

Your arm gets mid-way up before you freeze, pain lashing every nerve in your midriff, enough to make you wince loudly. The bindings on your chest aren't helping. For a moment, dark spots dance before vision as you quickly tuck your arm back down, moving too quick.

Fuck. Fuck. One deadbolt will have to do.

It feels as if the whole world lurches when you take your next step, blurring like thick taffy for a split second. You stumble towards your bed and realise as you sink onto your knees on the edge of it, you need to dress your wounds.

Another bloody cough. Has your nose stopped bleeding yet? It's impossible to tell between each and every other ache.

What were you doing again?

Without meaning to, you begin to slump over, nearly lying down in your bed.

Dressings! That's right, you need to make sure the wound on your side isn't still bleeding, need to make sure it's clean when it finally begins to clot, need to...

Need to... what did you need to do?

That's right— you need to sleep.

Your head crumples against the pillow like a dead-weight as you collapse against it, exhausted. As your consciousness wanes, you cough again, a splatter of red spraying your pillow.

Not good, you think absentmindedly. Eyes slipping shut, you miss the familiar figure out the window, approaching through the storm.

—

You're wincing before you even realise you're awake.

Crackling. Logs spitting out little snaps fill the air, the quiet roar of a hearty fire; the first things you hear when you come too, far too slowly for your own liking. Your left ears hum loudly in discomfort— no doubt a result of one of the harsh hooks you had caught in the face earlier today.

Next, you smell something... clean?

Your tongue comes out gingerly, licking your cracked lips and you realise quite suddenly, there's an absence of blood on them. The thought slams into you at the same time you realise; you hadn't been able to stay awake for long enough to even light a fire.

Panic reaches through your ribs and grips your heart, tight, and you sit up without thinking.

Pain follows you closely like a lazy afterthought that slams into you, soaking into your body meanly and making you regret moving so fast. Your head swims heavily, throbbing dully.

A pained noise threatens to leave your lips and you force it down. Then force your head up, eyes blinking rapidly, trying to assess the threat, trying to do something.

Panic squeezes your heart painfully again when your hazy vision clears just enough to reveal the shape of a body before you— your blood chilling in your veins as you realise there's somebody else in here with you.

The whimper you held back before slips out before you can help it, your body squirming backward without thought. Your breaths comes out in sharp pants, bursts of pain accompanying each one, and right as you hit the wall, your vision focuses.

Your lungs empty in relief.

It's Azriel before you, on his knees, his scarred hands are held out in front of him.

They aren't touching you, just hovering, his palms up to indicate he means no harm. His wings are tucked back, hunched down to be smaller than usual, and all around him, his shadows whirl about animatedly.

There's an expression on his face you've never seen before.

"—on't move," He's saying, his low voice finally registering in your ringing ears. His hazel eyes are fixed on your face, darting about quickly. "You'll re-open your wounds."

He's talking about your wounds but for some gods forsaken reason, all you can think is how surprised you are that he came back.

The thought loops endlessly, like a holy mantra —he came back, he came back, he came back— and you realise that you were both terrified and also sure that he wouldn't be coming back at all.

That somehow, somewhere along his trip back to his home, he would have realised you weren't anything worth coming back for.

"Azriel?" You wheeze.

Just to check—you have to check.

Maybe he's a mirage. He certainly would be the kindest mirage you can think of.

You think you see something soften on his face, his wings dropping an inch lower behind him. His hands are still held out before you, still waiting. He's endlessly patient. His shadows seem to slow a bit, less frenzied.

"Yeah," He murmurs gently in response. His hazel eyes burn as they take in the sight of you again. "They got you pretty messed up. huh?”

You're sitting on your bed still, you realise. Blinking slow, you take an inhale, trying to put together how he got here— your eyes fly to the door. It's locked, this time with both deadbolts secured.

Azriel follows your gaze, turning his head slightly. "They're a good precaution. Don't be dissuaded that the spymaster of this court managed to get past them."

You wheeze again, some delirious laugh that gets cut off when pain splinters through your side. You groan lowly, unable to hold it in and your hand creeps slowly to paw at your side.

Faintly, you can feel the scrape of bandages on your skin, covering the wound, and sigh in relief. It makes your diaphragm sink down, the bindings around your chest shifting and that sends a frantic bolt of alarm through you once more.

“You—” The word scratches out your throat and you cough weakly. Every instinct starts to light back up, hackles rising— there has never been someone else around when you're too weak to defend yourself. It takes a moment with eyes closed and measured breaths to lean into your trust. You trust him, you know you do.

“You... patched me up?”

The question comes out wary and pointed despite your efforts. Though that might just be the gravel in your throat from having your face beaten in.

You don’t know how to covertly ask if he saw— if, that when he pushed your bloody shirt up to nurse the slash in your side, he noticed the gauze around your ribs.

It's an alien and terrifying thought, Azriel finding out. A worry deep in the marrow of your bones warbles in response, a thousand hairs standing up on end at the possibility.

How a revelation of that magnitude could sever the first trust you've had in years.

How it could lose... the first friend you've ever truly had.

A string of nausea tugs in your throat, bile threatening, and you have to swallow it down with the crippling fear that's been thrust into your system.

This is how it goes. The intrinsic balance of the world —to be gifted closeness and friendship, is to submit to the possibility of losing it.

Back against the wall, it settles into you very starkly, a thought sharp and clear; you do not want to lose him in any way.

Some part of you thinks he must see you as some kind of starving mutt, growing far too attached to the first hand that feeds it. But looking at him now, his shadowed face and kind expression, the depth of his eyes... you're convinced he sees something more to you.

And you want him to, desperately.

In a way you can't comprehend, can't begin to understand— how can you be so tied to someone you've known for so little? How can it hurt so much to be parted from him when you're barely friends? When he doesn't even know who you truly are.

Perhaps, you think, this is what all friends are like. You wouldn't know, you haven't had any before.

Azriel nods mutely, a strand of his dark hair falling over his forehead. He seems to be considering his words carefully and you take the moment to steal a few deep breaths.

When he speaks, his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard. "I understand that might be... crossing a line. But—" A waver in his voice. "— but I could smell the blood from out in the storm."

There's something left unsaid in his sentence, his tone clipped. Whatever it is, you're far too tired to discern it. Your body, overwhelmed with tension, abruptly loosens as the perceived threat of danger seeps away. It drains you, a sudden wave of tiredness cresting upon you— because you know, undoubtedly, you're safe now.

Not quite meaning to but unable to stop yourself, you sink down and fall limply against your bed. Your wing curls over you defensively, a blanket and shield all in one.

Azriel's hands finally lower, resting gently atop his thick thighs. His shadows dim their chaotic activity, almost lazy with how they whirl about his neck and shoulders. You wonder absentmindedly what they feel like against his skin.

Looking back at his face, you find his eyes haven't broken their watchful gaze on you— intense enough to stir up an unfamiliar warmth within your chest. You avoid it and his eyes, your tired eyes catch sight of something behind him.

"You brought...?" You can't quite finish your sentence, a vicious shiver wracking your frame, making you curl up closer. Tiredness chases it, the threat of sleep looming closer and closer.

Your eyes close without meaning. In the darkness, Azriel's voice swims before you, muted and far away.

"You have to get better before I can give it to you." His voice has dropped to a whisper. It makes your lips twitch in an attempt of a smile. It's funny, hearing a legendary Illyrian warrior like him whispering.

"Okay," You might say back— though you're not sure if it sounds like a word at all.

It doesn't matter. You're already asleep.

—

tags <3

@strangerstilinski @janebirkln @itsswritten @mischiefmanagers @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @idkitsem @illyrianbitch @jeweline16 @fightmedraco @iamjimintrash @maeandering @spideytingley @aneekapaneeka @cassianswh0reeee @viciane @astarlitsoul @mybestfriendmademe @archiveofcravings @reputaytionn-13 @bionic-donut @chessebookgirl @itseightbeats @littleblackcatinwonderland @twsssmlmaa @fanworrior @skysayhi @vintageoldfashion @tequilya @fabulouslyflamboyant5

#azriel #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x you #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #whom the shadows sing for #whom the shadows sing for (and the thief’s echoing hymn)#OKURRRR #LETS GO #I HAVE TO LEAVE FOR WORK IN 10 MINS SO IM JUST POSTING #if theres things wrong with it.... well ill deal w that later #enjoy! <3

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