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scribendis · 5 months

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𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐒𝐞𝐚

Daemon Targaryen x female reader (third person perspective) ❖ husband & wife

Warnings: smut, profanity, these two are SO horny, dirty talk, p in v sex, size kink ish, breeding kink ish, just a little bit of throat grabbing Rating: 18+ MDNI Word count: ~5,100

Summary: Mere months after their wedding, Daemon left his young bride to join the War in the Stepstones. His victory and subsequent return to King's Landing three years later meant that his wife would never spend another night alone in their bed.

A/N: I hope all my Daemon girls out there enjoy! This one's dedicated to you! Also, this is barely proofread and not beta'd. Lordy help me. Dividers by @saradika | AO3 link | Wattpad link

Mini HV glossary for ~future reference: ābrazȳrītsos - little wife ñuha dōna - my sweet issa - yes

Prince Daemon Targaryen had not been her father’s first choice of husband for her. It had, in fact, been the lord’s intention to marry her - his youngest child and only daughter - to King Viserys following the death of his queen. The prospect of such an arrangement brought her immense pride, for her house would benefit greatly from the wealth and status that would follow. But, by the time their wheelhouse finally passed through the gates of King’s Landing, the marriage between the king and Lady Alicent Hightower had already been set in stone.

The king had thus suggested that she wed his younger brother instead, a prospect that her lord father balked at at first. Prince Daemon’s reputation certainly preceded him. No man called the “Rogue” anything had any right to take his precious daughter to wife. But when the Rogue Prince placed a wreath of flowers on her head and proclaimed her the Queen of Love and Beauty upon winning the tourney held in celebration of the king’s wedding, her betrothal to him was all but assured.

She allowed herself to be wooed by him and his devilish smile, feeling herself falling harder and harder for him each time she caught his gaze from across rooms and banquet tables. There could be one hundred people between them and their eyes would always seem to find one another. His, more often than not, studied far more than her pretty face, trailing downward to her ample breasts or the curve of her waist.

She had been told that Daemon was no great lover of dancing, but he offered his hand to her during every occasion that had musicians in attendance. And that hand found itself, more often than not, wandering dangerously past her hips as they moved about the dance floor. She was blissfully unaware of the fact that the prince would fuck his fist each night afterward at the thought of the places his hands had touched and what they might look like once he tore her clothes from her body.

It was no wonder, then, that Daemon made certain that she fulfilled her wifely duties as soon as they were wed. He was barely able to make it through their wedding feast without whisking her away to finally claim her. But that night, he ensured that the entire Red Keep knew exactly whose wife she was.

In those first days of their marriage, she felt that she hardly left their marriage bed. When her presence was required at court, she walked with such an ache in her thighs and between her legs that she wished she could lounge about in bed all day. Each morning, without fail, their shared chambers still held the warm, musky scent of their coupling from the night before. It lingered on the sheets and on her skin throughout the day, only encouraging her husband’s desires further once he returned to her side.

But their time together, it turned out, would be short lived. She and Daemon had hardly been married for three moons before Lord Corlys Velaryon’s invitation to join his house in the War for the Stepstones brought him hundreds of leagues away from her. Daemon could not refuse, for the potential glory of battle - his greatest chance to prove his worth to the realm - was a far more alluring prize than even his beautiful new wife. The kiss goodbye he gave her before climbing on the back of his dragon tasted bitter on her tongue.

She did not see her lord husband for three years. Life at court became a lonely thing. She was without children to care for or a husband to tend to. What she had was a husband whose actions in the Stepstones seemed to ripple all the way back to the Red Keep. To her. Slowly but surely, she watched her image deteriorate from that of a prince’s wife to that of a social pariah. How ashamed she must have been of her husband, the other ladies would whisper when they thought she was not listening - and, sometimes, when they knew that she was.

Their shunning of her only worsened as news continued to trickle in about the rising victory of the Triarchy. She would sometimes linger outside of the Small Council chambers and trail after Ser Tyland Lannister in search of any information he had regarding her husband. Toward the end of the war, none of his news was good. She had come to accept that she would awake any day now a widow at the tender age of one and twenty.

Until the morning that her maidservant burst through her door and all but shook her awake, uttering what, to her, was a garbled mess of words in her half-asleep state. But she did process enough to know one thing: Daemon had been spotted returning to King’s Landing.

She rarely wore the colors of her husband’s house, opting instead for her own house colors. But today, as she followed the crowd into the throne room, she wore a striking dress of blood red the same hue as her husband’s dragon, Caraxes, and a necklace of rubies to match. Today, she was once again a Targaryen bride.

She caught the eyes of some of the women who had spent the last three years lambasting her for her husband’s deeds. For his failures. She barely regarded them as she pushed past, her head held high and a smirk painting her lips. But, briefly catching the shocked look on Lord Beesbury’s wife, which somehow made the old woman look even more like a pigeon than she already did, she felt validation run warm through her veins. This would stop their wagging tongues.

In her place near the front of the throne room, she and everyone else watched Daemon approach the king. She had hoped but not suspected that he would find her among the crowd, so when his eyes flickered to her for a fleeting moment, she felt warmth radiate down her entire spine.

Though he had looked away to address his brother, she did not take her eyes off of him for even a second. His silvery-blonde hair, now cut short, gave her an admirable view of his face and neck. Though obviously kissed by the sun, his skin also bore other changes. Forehead creases and other new wrinkles, likely from frowning or stress or both. A mottled, pink scar painted the right side of his neck and disappeared below his armor. She dreaded to think about just how far it went and how many others lay beneath his clothes.

Truthfully, their time together before his departure had been so brief that she could not quite put her finger on all of the ways in which the war had changed him physically. From where he stood, the light pouring in from one of the high windows behind him highlighted a small scar just beside his right eyebrow. Did he have that before? She could not remember just now.

There would be plenty of time for her to relearn her husband’s body anew, just as he would hers. She did not realize how lonely a place the marriage bed could be with her husband so far away for so long. All she could hope was that he would still find her pleasing after their years apart.

Their reunion, it seemed, would have to wait, for the king was eager to whisk Daemon away from the eyes of the court following his return. Her disappointment meant little when measured against the wishes of the king, even though the ache in her heart felt all too real as she watched the brothers ascend the steps out of the throne room.

She fielded several congratulatory remarks and other words of praise for her husband from those around her - the very same individuals who had spent years speaking naught but ill about him, whether to her face or behind her back. But she had known all along that Daemon would prove them wrong.

The dispersing crowd soon filtered out of the throne room, with some individuals most assuredly sharing whispered words of gossip with their neighbors and others simply wondering when the celebratory feast would be held. She was one of the last to exit the room, a dizzying mixture of anticipation, relief, and disappointment churning in her stomach.

So when a hand caught her by the throat and another by her upper arm as she ascended the stone steps into the hallway, she was taken completely by surprise. She hardly had time to let out a frightened gasp before a familiar voice breathed into her ear.

“Will you not welcome the prince home from war, my lady?”

Her fear washed off of her just as quickly as it had come. Heaving a sigh, she smiled. “Daemon.”

He turned her on the spot so they were face to face, his hand moving to hold her by the nape of her neck so she could not pull away. But she would not have done so even if he had not held her in such a way.

“Gods, you scared me,” she continued. If he could only feel the way her heart was racing in her breast at his little stunt.

His bottom lip stuck out in a feigned pout. “And here I thought my dear wife would be excited to see me.” He placed his forefinger beneath her chin to tilt her face upward, his violet eyes studying the planes of her face as though he was seeing her for the first time all over again.

“She is.”

A satisfied grin tugged at Daemon’s lips at the warmth of her remark, though he did not release her from his embrace. Rather, he pulled her closer and leaned down to claim her lips for the first time since his departure. To kiss him felt so familiar, yet also like a distant dream of a time long past. He allowed his lips to linger, savoring the moment as though they did not have dozens of onlookers watching them.

“Should you not be with the king?” she murmured against his lips but felt him smirk.

“I have had to look at my brother’s ugly face since before I can remember,” Daemon replied, running his hand down the length of her spine until it came to rest in the small of her back. “I would rather have a moment alone with my pretty wife.”

That he had forgotten her or, at least, his burgeoning feelings for her during his years in the Stepstones had been a great worry of hers. He had been all too enthusiastic to leave her side and partake in the war to begin with. She often thought that, should he return one day, the two of them would be no more than strangers to one another. That whatever spark that had ignited between them in the early days of their marriage would have long since burned out.

But she recognized the look in his eyes as they roamed her face and continued downward, along the exposed line of her collarbone and shoulders before going even further. They ravaged her form as they had on all those evenings both before and after they were wed. He was entranced by the way her crimson gown enhanced her womanly shape. No doubt, he was toying with the thought of tearing it from her body right here and now, and reclaiming what was his for the entire court to see.

The mere prospect of such an act sent heat rushing through her lower stomach that pooled between her legs. She hadn’t worn her smallclothes beneath her gown today, remembering how tedious her husband had always found the extra barrier to be. He would have discovered that, if only he would have taken her by the hand and led her to their quarters.

“You heard what I told my brother,” Daemon continued, his breath feather soft and warm on her cheek. “About the title they bestowed upon me in the Stepstones.”

“King of the Narrow Sea,” she whispered, feeling her mouth go dry as she watched the violet of his eyes become consumed by black. “But… you gave your crown to His Grace.”

Daemon clicked his tongue as he would in disappointment at a child. “Would my wife not have me be her king?”

Gods, she began to ache with need at such a question. She knew he noticed every flutter of her eyelashes, every rise and fall of her breast, every lick of her lips. He was an animal playing with its food, enjoying the act of teasing her. Testing her to see if she had missed him.

“She would.” Her reply came out hoarsely, which only made the wicked smile on his lips widen further.

“And that would make you my queen,” he cooed as their noses brushed against one another. “Queen of the Narrow Sea.” His thumb moved slowly along the line of her jaw until it found the soft spot just beneath it where her pulse was hammering against her throat and pressed lightly.

She swallowed hard. “Queen of… of rocks and crabs and sand,” she said in jest, a paltry attempt at distracting herself from the now unbearable ache between her thighs.

Daemon chuckled shortly. “But my queen nonetheless.” His lips moved to her ear to deal their final blow. “Do not think that I have forgotten the sweet sounds of your moans, ābrazȳrītsos,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble like that of a dragon’s echoing throughout the Dragonpit. “Or the even sweeter taste of your cunt.”

She could not stay the soft whimper that fell from her lips. Her body practically trembled with unfulfilled need - three years of it. What a devil her husband was for inflicting such torment on her, and in clear view of every nobleman and servant who walked past.

And he was even worse for withdrawing from her completely and regarding her with a saccharine grin, though the dark lustfulness in his eyes belied his sudden pleasantry.

“My brother unfortunately demands my company just now, ñuha dōna, but rest assured…” He looked her up and down hungrily once more before stepping around her in a single languid step. “I shall be treating you like a queen tonight.”

Her eyes scanned the page of the open book that was draped across her lap, but the words may as well have been written in Lhazareen. She had gone over this page a dozen times but retained nothing, plagued by thoughts of her husband as she was.

The sun had long since set and here she sat, alone, by the fire waiting for him. Of course, the king was not to be denied his brother’s presence and she knew that Daemon was certainly basking in the attention and praise that was being showered on him. But she would still hold him to his promise.

Having given up on her paltry attempt at reading, she rose. Her bare feet carried her restlessly back and forth across the cool flagstone floor of the bedchambers that her husband had not slept in for three long years. With every turn, her eyes flitted to the door as though she could will it open with her mind alone.

“Seven hells, Daemon,” she sighed.

She had not sated her own desire after her husband had left her wanting earlier, so the anticipation of their reunion this evening had only continued festering inside her throughout the day. It gnawed at her now, an itch that only he could scratch.

What could she do to prepare for him, she wondered? There was no use in changing into a nightgown that would only end up on the floor. She had no wish to drink herself into a haze that would rob her of the pleasures of their lovemaking. In the end, she decided to perch herself before her vanity and remove the jewels adorning her neck, ears, and fingers. They would only get in the way.

It was when she dipped her head to unclasp her necklace that she heard the heavy wooden door push open. Her eyes immediately snapped to the mirror in front of her, only to see her husband already leaning against the far wall, admiring her. The mere sight of his lips curled into a half smirk was enough to send a rush of heat through her lower belly.

“Do you require assistance with that, ābrazȳrītsos?”

Daemon did not wait for an answer before he pushed himself away from the wall and sauntered over to her. Sneakily placing something on the cushion beside her, he took his place behind her and lifted his hands to remove her necklace.

“Red was always so becoming on you,” he whispered against the shell of her ear, admiring the color of the rubies against her skin before carelessly tossing the necklace onto the vanity. “You were destined to be a Targaryen bride.”

Her eyes fell closed as she felt his lips move downward to press to her neck. “Yes, I think I was.”

“Keep your eyes closed.” His words were a soft hum against her skin. “I have something to give you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. With her eyes closed, she could hear the rustle of his tunic as he turned. Smell the sweet aroma of wine on his breath. Feel the warmth of his arms enveloping her. Then, there was the cool touch of metal on her forehead and the sudden weight of something in her hair. His fingers gathered the long strands of hair that she had already unbraided and brushed, pulling them to one side of her neck. Once again, his lips found her ear.

“Open.”

She found her image in the mirror again and beheld his gift to her. A circlet cast in what she assumed was Valyrian steel with glittering rubies mounted along the front of the band. It fit her head perfectly and complemented the color of her hair in a way that no other accessory ever had before. When she reached a hand up to touch it, Daemon caught her fingers and brought them to his lips.

“Oh, it’s beautiful…” she breathed. The smile that lit up her features elicited one of his own. “This is what kept you, isn’t it?”

A look of pride flashed in his eyes. “My queen deserved a crown.”

She turned around in her chair to face him, her smile gone and her brow furrowed. The gesture was a lovely one, but it would be an insult to Queen Alicent for her to ever wear this publicly. And she had already spent the last few years as an outcast at court; she would never take risk worsening the others’ view of her. “Daemon, I-I couldn’t possibly wear this. Not at court…”

“Then wear it for me,” he crooned, slowly smoothing his hands along the warm skin of her exposed shoulders. “And nothing else.”

She couldn’t bear it any longer or deny her burning need for him. He could ask anything of her and she would submit. He had her in the palm of his hand and he knew it.

“How… how do you say ‘queen’ in High Valyrian?” Her voice was but a breath, trembling and full of lasciviousness.

Daemon smiled crookedly. “Dāria.” His thumb brushed across the spot on her neck where he could feel her hammering pulse, just as it had earlier. “Ñuha dāria.”

She knew enough of his mother tongue to know what that meant.

My queen.

“And ‘king?’” Her throat felt painfully dry, now.

He leaned forward, his gaze reflecting a mixture of playfulness and possessiveness. “Dārys.”

She watched as what little was left of violet in his eyes was overtaken by the black of his pupils. His hand at the side of her neck squeezed slightly. His nostrils flared. And, all the while, he wore the same half-smirk on those lips of his that she wanted to kiss every last inch of her.

“Say it,” he growled.

“Ñuha dārys.”

Their lips crashed together in a devouring kiss far more passionate than the one they had shared in the hall that afternoon. Daemon easily lifted her into his arms and bore her toward their bed, just as he had on the night that they were married. He did not break their kiss for even a second, not to breathe or to utter soft words of yearning and love. They had so much lost time to make up for and tonight would only be a start.

With barely any care for the intricately sewn gold buttons that trailed down the back of the dress, his hands began to rip the garment open. He tore at the red fabric with the ferocity of a beast while his tongue danced with hers. They were caught in a swirling storm of desire and longing, heat and passion - and they were perfectly content to let it sweep them away together.

Buttons scattered across the flagstone floor to be lost forever underneath the heavy furnishings, and soon her dress joined them as it fell in a heap beside their bed. Daemon’s roguish smirk returned when his hands cupped her bare arse and pressed her against him.

“It’s hardly befitting of my queen to strut about the palace without smallclothes like a common whore.” He bit down gently on her bottom lip and relished in the soft mewl that rose in her throat. “Any man could…”

As his voice trailed off, she felt his fingertips ghost over her hip before moving to her center and sliding into her wet heat. His fingers curled inside her immediately, expertly finding her most pleasurable spot as though it had not been years since he had last fucked her. A stuttering, wanton moan left her, only encouraging him to continue.

“...take advantage.”

Daemon coaxed her back onto their bed, never pulling his hand away from where, with rapacious speed, he was already bringing her to the brink of the most carnal pleasure. But as she pushed herself up onto her elbows in search of his lips, he pulled back.

“Uh uh,” he hummed. “Look at me, ābrazȳrītsos.” He no longer wished to kiss her, choosing instead to watch her with the same darkened eyes as he had earlier. He saw it all. The way her half-lidded eyes struggled to stay on his, the way her brow twitched and furrowed, the way her neck strained with effort.

And she was ablaze beneath him, the dragon’s touch inside her reigniting a fire that she had not felt in so long. The warmth of it began to spread through her as his fingers swiftly brought her to her release, which spread through every limb until it consumed her like a wildfire in the countryside.

There was a grin of satisfaction on Daemon’s face when she opened her eyes again. To him, no sight could have been better than that of her beneath him, breathless, with flushed skin as she lay in the haze of her release. And to her, the image of him licking her wetness from his fingers with such lecherous desire in his eyes could have finished her once more.

He sat back on his haunches to remove his doublet and tunic, which joined her gown on the floor as though they may as well have been dirty rags. She barely had time to study his bare torso, scarred and more muscular than it had been when she had seen it last, before he was upon her again. When he leaned over her to kiss her, her own hands took over and began to fumble at the closure of his breeches.

“My poor little wife,” he rasped, “left without a husband to fill her all this time.”

Her lips curled into a sly grin that she knew he could feel against his lips. “Perhaps I have taken a lover in your absence.”

“Name the man and I shall have his head.” Daemon spoke in jest, she knew, but she also surmised that a certain level of sincerity lay beneath his words. Any man that would dare touch the wife of the Rogue Prince would incur his wrath. “Nay, his cock, and he may live out the rest of his days as a eunuch. Perhaps I will have him sent away to become an Unsullied or a priest of Boash.”

He watched her face intently as her trembling fingers finished their work at his breeches. She had already been brought to pleasure but the sight of his thick, hard cock emerging from his trousers as she pushed them down renewed that same need inside her like an ember that had been rekindled into a blaze. A memory bloomed in her mind of when she had first laid eyes on his manhood on the night of their wedding and how she had doubted that it could even fit inside her. She found herself considering the same thought now.

“O-on the contrary,” she managed, dotting her tongue out to wet her bottom lip. “I have had to pleasure myself.”

“Oh?” Daemon’s eyes narrowed and his lips parted as his hand lifted to her chin to hold her gaze so she had no choice but to see his lust. “I would have you show me sometime, ñuha dāria,” he purred with voracious need. “But for the rest of tonight? You will not cum anywhere but on my cock.”

He took her firmly by the hips, his calloused fingertips digging into her skin as he pulled her with him so that she straddled him. And then, in a brief moment of tenderness that barely concealed his near-animalistic desire, he twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers. “Know this: your cunt shall never go unfilled again. And perhaps I will put a babe in you, now that I am home.”

“Please.” Her voice, though barely a whisper, was heavy with want.

“Issa, ñuha dāria.”

Daemon pulled her hips down so that she sank onto his cock, too impatient to give his wife any time to adjust after three years apart. A soft whine left her at the sudden fullness, the way he stretched her as though he had claimed her maidenhead for a second time. He did not let even a second go to waste before he began to guide her movements atop him. She was at the mercy of his hands, which demanded her pleasure and the closeness of her body without remorse.

What he need not demand was the sweet cries of ecstasy that passed her lips, which filled their bedchambers and, likely, spilled into the hall outside of their door. They felt almost sinful to listen to and, yet, were the most beautiful sounds that he had ever heard.

“Gods… Daemon…” she moaned, her body arching into him. She had spent so many nights whispering his name into the darkness of their bedchambers as she brought herself to release at the thought of him. But to have him beneath her, inside her, around her once again was pure bliss.

At the sound of his name on her lips, Daemon pressed his face between her breasts and groaned hoarsely. “That’s it, ābrazȳrītsos,” he panted against her flushed skin, his fingers moving further to grasp her by the arse and pull her closer.

It would not be the gods that would make her cum tonight; it would be him.

She could feel it, the pleasure beginning to tighten inside her. She was at his mercy, lost in the feeling of him bucking his hips up into her and the sensation of his lips at her breasts. It felt impossible that one should experience such rapturous delight as this. In every touch and every choked growl that left him, she could sense that he felt exactly the same.

“Daemon, please–” Her words left her as a high-pitched squeak, signaling to him just how close she was to falling over the edge. Her body began to tense, her thighs trembling on either side of his hips. Her hands flew to his upper arms, grasping and almost pushing, as if to try and escape the wave of pleasure that was fast approaching.

But he would not let her go until it consumed them both.

With his hands still at her hips, Daemon pushed her backward until she was buried in the soft blanket that had been so perfectly laid atop their bed mere moments ago. His body sunk into hers, taking over from her previous ministrations atop him as her hands anchored themselves to his shoulders. He rutted into her like an animal, starved as he had been of her body for the last three years.

She felt herself shudder when his lips planted kisses along her jawline and moved up until they found her mouth. He swallowed every desperate moan that left her, the taste of them growing sweeter and sweeter the closer she came to her peak.

Her walls began to clench around him, her breath hitching with his every thrust. Any words she may have uttered only coiled at her throat, her thoughts meaningless as the building pleasure finally unfurled inside her. He held her steadfastly as she came around him, his touch her only lifeline as the heat and delirium ravished her completely.

“Cum with me,” she gasped against his lips. He would have kept going, brought her to another peak before finishing, but her soft plea was enough to end him, too.

“Fuck…” he groaned, thrusting into her one final time as he spilled himself inside her.

And when their shared pleasure had passed, her vice-like grip on his shoulders released. The light touches of her fingertips traveled across his back, feeling each new scar that he had acquired in the Stepstones. But he relished in her gentle touch after so many years of war, and allowed himself to collapse against her.

The weight of his body was soothing, his warmth a balm for her lonely heart. Their breaths slowed and, soon, the only sounds in the room came from the fireplace opposite their bed. It crackled and burned, its radiant heat intermingling with the lingering warmth of their coupling.

Daemon eventually lifted his head again and reached a hand up to straighten the circlet that had half fallen off of her head in their final throes of passion. He paused to admire the sight of her, still in a daze and wearing a sleepy smile on her lips. He kissed her once more and, when he withdrew, she saw that his eyes had regained some of their earlier hunger.

“Do not think that I am finished with you, ñuha dāria.”

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bless-my-demons · 8 months

Text

Redamancy: Chapter Twelve

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: None

Notes: I’m thinking one more chapter and then we dive into New Moon? Lordy, prepare yourselves for the angst in the stuff I’ve prepped lol

Word Count: 1400

Series Masterlist

• March 19th, 2005 • Hospital - Phoenix, AZ •

Jasper

Pulling into a parking spot in the Hospital’s adjoined parking garage, I let out the breath I’d been holding since dropping Y/n’s mom off at the airport and let my head fall back on the headrest. In the last week I’ve never been more scared, worried, keyed up than I have ever been in my immortal life.

Y/n and Isabella managed to slip past Alice and I at the hotel on some half-assed rescue mission… I promised Edward I’d protect Bella and I didn’t, now she has a broken leg and was almost on her way to turning into one of us. With as much experience as I have in war, keeping an eye on two teenage girls is a challenge? I nearly crush the keys to Carlisle’s car in my hand, the plastic groaning in protest.

I could’ve lost her.

The realization hurts and angers me all at the same time. Not only do I need to watch myself around humans, but I also have a singer, someone I’m falling hopelessly in love with and I feel so-so out of control. I can’t protect her at every twist and turn and it’s eating me alive. She’s human and frail, not meant for my world and yet she’s been sucked into it because of me.

I exit the car and find my way back to Y/n’s room before visitation hours end. My thoughts are a mess until I step in her room and her scent washes over me, scorching - but soothing. Soothing because she’s still here, she’s breathing and her monitor is still beeping.

I take up my post in the chair in the corner even though I know she’d prefer me at her side. From here I can still watch her while I get a grip on my raging emotions and the thirst licking flames down my throat.

She has less wires and tubes today, preparing for discharge in a day or two. After finally waking this morning, she managed to convince her mom she was fine enough to leave her here under Carlisle and I’s watchful eye with the promise to constantly keep her updated. I could feel her mother’s torn emotions - sadness with a twinge of anguish because she had to get back to work, but strangely enough - relief when she assessed me before making her decision to go home. Nevertheless, I reassured her that I would drive her daughter back carefully while using my ability to ease the anxiety that bubbled up.

Y/n’s breathing sped up slightly signaling that she was waking from her nap, so I sat up straight in my chair.

“Jaz?” Her quiet voice croaked out.

“Still here, darlin’. I just dropped your mom off at the airport.” Standing, I quietly roll her bedside table closer that has her cup of water.

“Jasper?” She asks again after a sip.

“Yes, sweetheart?” I respond, pulling my chair closer to the bed while keeping my eyes down.

“Look at me, please?” The soft plea almost tears my heart in two and my eyes snap to her bruised face. “Talk to me?”

“We can talk once you’re discharged-“

“No, this clearly needs to happen now.” So demanding, even lying in a hospital bed.

“You could’ve died-“

“But I didn’t-“

“Don’t even start with that.” My tone comes out a little harsher than I intended and I squeeze my eyes shut as I sit, pushing my hands through my hair as my elbows rest on my knees. “If Alice wasn’t watching, if I didn’t have a clue as to where you and Bella went…” My eyes scan the room for something to focus on, but I settle on her face, “If I was a fraction too slow getting to you, you could be dead - both of you.”

“I knew you’d come for me, Jasper.”

“You don’t get to make decisions like that when I’m supposed to be protecting you, Y/n. You don’t get it.” I stress, grabbing the hand not hooked up to an IV and cradling it in mine. “We’re in a hospital right now and you have broken bones. You were in a coma.” I want to yell my frustration suddenly.

“What don’t I get?” She asks.

“What?”

“You said I don’t get it, what don’t I get?”

“You… you’re everything to me.” I whisper as I run a finger gently down her bruised cheek, the swelling around her eye having gone down slightly.

Reader

I’m not entirely sure I heard him correctly. You’re everything to me. He said it like it was obvious, inevitable, easy.

“You-you can’t mean that.” I glance to my lap and pick at the coarse hospital blanket as my nerves get the better of me.

“Darlin’, I wouldn’t be here worried out of my mind if I didn’t.” His icy fingers tilt my chin up to meet his dark eyes. “You… you test me in every conceivable way and I can’t get enough.”

My throat closes up and I fumble for a response, “Jasper-”

“Don’t do that to me again, don’t run away from me like you can’t ask me for anything. Your safety is paramount and I don’t ever want to feel that helpless again.” His hand cradles the back of my head like it’s the finest piece of glass and my heart is ready to burst.

Just when I feel on the verge of a heart attack from his words, my nurse barges through my door.

“Is everything-“ but she stops short and smiles knowingly at Jasper perched on the edge of my bed, “Try to keep her heart rate down? You had me worried it was something much worse.”

I finally notice the quick beeping of my heart rate monitor and I swear, I could pass away right here from embarrassment. And if that weren’t enough, my nurse winks at Jasper as he replies “Yes ma’am.” with a sneaky grin to her on her way out.

I’m tempted to smack his arm for teasing me, but decide against it since it’s still tender from being sprained.

“You’re worse than my mom.” I grumble, trying to fold my arms while still attached to wires and an IV line.

“Oh sweetheart, don’t go comparing me to your mother.” Smiling to himself, he settles back into his chair as we wait for my evening round of medication.

He’ll be the death of me, my new mantra.

• March 20th, 2005 • Hospital - Phoenix, AZ •

Reader

Discharge papers are signed, I’m dressed in new clothes Alice left for me, and I’m currently being wheeled to the exit by a nurse who adamantly refused to just let me walk out of here on my own. Thankfully Jasper isn’t here to witness this and is instead pulling the car around to the door with an overhang, conveniently providing him cover from the rising desert sun.

The heat is a dry blast to the face once the automatic doors slide open as I’m wheeled to the curb and I’m thankful Alice picked a light sundress. The thoughtfulness in her supernatural ability is just another reason to love her.

My nurse helps me stand as Jasper parks in front of us and jogs to my side. I catch him doing a double take as I turn to thank my nurse and grab the last of my things from her. I feel his eyes roam over me as I climb in the car and sure enough, once I sit and turn to him, I can tell he has thoughts he’s hesitating with.

Gently shutting my door, he returns to the driver’s seat and steers the car through the crowded parking lot.

“You look nice, darlin’.” He says, glancing at me momentarily.

“For someone this banged up?” I’m still sporting a bruise under my eye and a wrap on my injured wrist. My ribs have been protesting all the movement I’ve done since getting out of bed this morning.

“Even banged up you’re still gorgeous.” His compliment is quiet, but the words are echoing in my head and ratcheting my heart rate up yet again.

And I swear I hear him mutter through his teeth as I watch his fingers tighten on the steering wheel, “This is going to be a long car ride.”

#bless-my-demons #redamancy series #jasper hale x reader #twilight #twilight fanfiction #jasper whitlock hale #jasper hale #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper whitlock #jasper hale x female!reader #female reader insert

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lyinginbedmon · 1 year

Text

Oh lordy is there bad things going down across the VTuber space right now so I’m gonna try and unpack them for ease of comprehension.

Real quick: A VTuber is essentially just a regular livestreamer but instead of a facecam they have a custom model (usually made of layered images but also often a full 3D object) that tracks their face and such. Big tiddy anime girl representation to say the least but it’s a very creative space.

Next: Silvervale, Silver for short. Silver is one such big tiddy anime (wolf) girl, who is part of a corporate group of VTubers called VShojo. I probably don’t need to describe much more for the purposes of this post.

Hogwarts Legacy is a video game based in the bigotry-entrenched universe of the Harry Potter franchise by notorious face-of-transphobia Joanne K. Rowling. Since its announcement in 2018, trans individuals and groups have quite rightly highlighted numerous ethical and moral problems with the game ranging from the inherent bigotry of the setting, to the involvement of literal far-right YouTubers in its development, to just the basic stuff like its success greenlighting further instalments all while Rowling pockets royalties to (expressly) further fund her anti-trans projects (which includes her writing Literally being read into record to quash things like the Equality Act).

The general advice, which would be true regardless of your actual thoughts on the game or franchise, was to just not play it. That way Rowling makes less money, fewer future games are made, and nobody gets hurt as a result. You end your day $60 better off that you can spend on some other big game that isn’t basically radioactive.

To say the Video Gamers did not take that advice well would be an understatement, but things get really ugly when a streamer who otherwise professes to creating a calm and friendly atmosphere, who makes claims to being an ally, gives in and plays the Wizard Game. I’m not going to say that people haven’t been harassed for playing it, almost certainly someone has, but I just don’t have the data to be certain that it goes much further than just posting “trans rights” in chat.

Enter Silvervale. Despite half a decade of advance warning that she shouldn’t play this game, she played it anyway. Live on camera. The community she’d fostered for years didn’t take this well either, and the stream ended early amid purported harassment from the chat. Silver wasn’t the first VTuber to play the Wizard Game, but she was one of the first English-speaking ones.

Things could have just quietly ended there, but Silver then returned to streaming with more of the game and a statement that she had been “harassed” by “freaks and degenerates” on Twitter. Not her best choice of words, but the damage was done.

Because of the 5-year leadup to the Wizard Game releasing, the right-wing mob had already noticed the controversy around it and had made Huge investments into buying and promoting the game as well as spewing vitriol against anyone who even slightly suggested that doing so was in poor taste. They naturally then flocked to Silver’s defense and, following her unfortunate description of “marginalised people making their discomfort known as they had declared they would Years in advance” using language straight from 1930s Germany, started directly attacking any streamer who voiced their intent not to play the game however detailed their reasoning.

As a brief aside, there’s some confusion over how Silver’s chat moderation is set up, seemingly blocking such phrases as “trans rights are human rights”. Some say it’s an overzealous automod, others that her moderators are actually blocking the phrases, it’s unclear and not hugely worth focusing on here. But I mention it because it’s one of the common points made as people state their side on this issue.

This has essentially made Silver the face of transphobic bigotry in the VTuber community, whether or not she actually considers herself aligned with such bigots. Multiple smaller and independent trans VTubers have completely stopped streaming because of the bile being spewed at them by people with the likes of #IStandWithSilver in their bios. The overlaps between accounts on social media posting in her defense and numerous far-right hate movements is as undeniable as it is unpleasant to catalogue.

And boy that’s just the foundation of this whole sorry affair.

Another VTuber who is part of the same company as Silver, VShojo, is Apricot (more commonly called Froot). Froot not only decided to vocally not play the Wizard Game, but to post a tweet saying that she would personally donate to UK trans children’s charity Mermaids for every like the tweet received. She added that her brother is trans and she supports him immensely.

So the bigots that leapt to Silver’s defense very predictably started calling Froot a paedophile and child groomer, which is more or less what they label every pro-trans individual ever these days. Froot had to lock replies on her charity post and her post about her brother as a result, though the tweets remain up.

Most recently, a third peer in VShojo called Ironmouse came to Silver’s defense specifically in opposition to the alleged harassment she received which, again, anyone could have seen coming in the last 5 years by googling the Steam page for this game.

And honestly, at this point, whatever actually happened to Silver in that first stream is completely irrelevant because she’s become the rallying cry of people who actively want to exterminate the entire trans community from cradle to grave and literally beyond. And so much of it could be resolved or at least get the wind out of its sails if she took 5 minutes to just apologise for and disavow everything that happened in her name after she decided to keep playing the Wizard Game.

But, and I say this with no disrespect to Silver, I’m not holding my breath.

#long post #vshojo #vtubers #drama #wizard game #I've been trying not to just constantly talk about this issue #but the disk horse just keeps getting WORSE

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occidentaltourist · 1 month

Note

General thoughts on handsome Sam Arias?

Oh gosh, so many. I haven't had a chance to think about her in quite a while - thank you for this ask!

Sam was such a good addition to the cast, and it's really too bad it wasn't feasible for Odette to stay longer than one season. Sam and Alex had such a nice chemistry, too - and with Ruby right there just as Alex was starting to think about children ... sigh. I'd have loved to see them explore that more.

Post-S1, I also think Reign was arguably CWSG's best Big Bad. The duality of Reign and Sam, how formidable she was as a physical equal to Kara, her backstory and deep bond with Lena, Lena's determination to save her even in the face of Kara/SG's wrath ... oof. I wish they'd gone with the comics backstory of the Worldkillers as originally being created by Kara's father rather than the witches, but still - so much to love about Sam/Reign's story.

And I know it took some fudging at the end, but I'm GLAD they saved Handsome Sam at the end of the season, and she and Ruby got a happy ever after! If only she'd have come back earlier in S5 to talk Lena out of the mind control foolishness and remind the writers that she exists and can convince Lena and Andrea to talk too! Lmao. (Lordy, can you imagine a season with all three of them together??)

#asks #supergirl #sam arias

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julesthequirky · 2 months

Text

The Choice: Chapter Seven

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn’t be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there’s a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters/Pairings: Fem!Reader, Dean, Beau and Ben (Soldier Boy)

Warnings: Language, typical Soldier Boy behaviour

W/C: 1,541

A/N: As you can see (for those who saw my post earlier) I have split the chapter into two. It wouldn't look right with all the chapters around the same and this one not.

A/N 2: Also it has crossed my attention that as much as you guys love these fics, please don't upload the ficpic to another social. I know none of the images are mine and you can decide to ignore my request, but it do 'make' them with the intent of them being uploaded solely by me. So far I've seen it on the pin board app.

Pulling yourself out of your reverie and ignoring the moisture between your legs, you located Dean in the hat section. He, of course, had on a cowboy hat and posing in front of the mirror.

“Lookin’ good, cowboy.”

Dean spun round with a sheepish grin on his face.

“You really think so?”

You nodded, reaching up on tiptoe, and angled the hat better. His green eyes bore into yours, and the moisture between your legs intensified. Those butterflies stormed your belly, causing a tingling to cover your entire body. Oh Lordy. Staring into his eyes had your brain short-circuiting.

“I love Westerns.”

“I know.” You replied as you moved your hands away.

His lips curved into a smile, which didn’t help the fluttering in your stomach. The Stetson he wore blocked off the surroundings, forcing you to focus only on him. You noticed how green his eyes could get, how the freckles speckled across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. You noticed the 5 o’clock shadow across his jaw and chin, the slight crook in his smile and just how pink his lips were.

Caught in his gaze, your heart beat just that little bit faster, and it ached just that little bit harder for the hunter.

“What d’ya think?”

You blinked and tried pulling words from your mushy, in-love brain.

“I think you should get it.”

He nodded and took the hat off.

The rush of Boot Barn came surging back. For a moment, you’d forgotten where and what you were doing. It was silly, silly schoolgirl feelings. Feelings you should push aside, but they just managed to get in the way.

A tap on your shoulder had you whirling around. It was just Beau with the boots and a selection of jackets.

“I couldn’t decide. Could you help?”

You nodded and took the jackets from him. All three were indicative of Beau’s style in Big Sky—black denim with a faux fur lining, tanned suede with a fur collar, and a typical blue denim jacket.

“I can’t decide either. I bet they’d all look great on you though.”

Beau blushed as he smiled, exactly the way Denise had complimented Beau in the first episode of season three. Dean, Beau and Ben shared this smile, and you had Jensen to thank for that.

“Darlin’ you say any more, and I’ma go redder than a farmer’s neck in the middle of summer.”

Damn that Texan. You gave him the jackets back and reached on tippy toe for a light brown Stetson. He ducked a little bit, allowing you to place it atop his head.

“There. It suits you.”

Beau’s face and neck went redder than a farmer in the middle of summer, leaving him speechless.

You clapped him on his shoulder and turned, only to be immediately put in a dour mood. Ben leant against the store’s wall, sweet-talking a female employee. Your heart whomped in your chest, emotion making it tighten. You weren’t sure why, but it felt like rejection.

The female employee smiled in Ben’s direction, giving him all her attention, twirling hair around her finger. Jealousy stabbed at you hard. Fuck him.

Ben turned his head to see you looking. He smirked and turned his attention back to the female employee. Instead of storming over there, you turned on your heel and went straight to the cashier with Beau and Dean.

At Walmart, you picked up a few plain colour t-shirts, Wrangler jeans, underwear, and socks for all three. Dean picked out a few flannels, as did Beau. Ben wandered around, trying to get your attention, and the petty person inside of you gave him the cold shoulder.

“You can’t be mad at me forever.”

You said nothing, moving the cart by some graphic t-shirts. Dean placed a set of two pyjamas, a long dressing gown, and a pair of slippers into the cart. Ben still had clothes to find besides the bare basics you had picked up.

Reaching out, you picked up a t-shirt with an American Eagle with the flag behind it. Patriotic. Sure, it was stereotypical, but honestly, you had no idea what he would wear. You pulled the t-shirt off the rack and brought it to Ben’s chest. He pulled a face at being treated like a child, but he wasn’t helping. You threw the T-shirt into the cart. Ben fished it back out, annoyance etching his face, and picked up a size bigger. Right. He was jacked. You’d forgotten that with the extra muscles, he would need a size larger than Beau and Dean.

You pushed the cart further, but Ben stood in front, gripping the metal, stopping you.

“I saw you when I was talking to that woman. You were jealous.”

You scowled and pushed against him, trying to ram the cart past, but all it did was jam one of the front wheels.

“Admit it, Y/N. You were jealous.”

Your scowl deepened. Ben wasn’t going anywhere, it seemed. Not until he got the truth from you. To evade him, you went to roll the cart backwards. The metal creaked in his hands. The cart wouldn’t budge.

“We’re not going anywhere until you admit it.”

“Why? So you can feel smug with yourself?”

Ben moved from the front of the cart to you. The metal had warped where he had held it, bending under the pressure of his hands. He stood tall, clearly using his height against you. You strained your neck, looking up. A dumb smirk sat on his face.

“Maybe it will make me smug, or maybe I’m trying to prove something to myself.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion.

“Like what?”

“Doll, what makes you think I’ll tell you before you admit to me your jealousy?”

Your scowl came back.

“I wasn’t jealous.”

He snorted with laughter. “Yeah, and I’m a virgin.”

You moved the cart, but he stopped you, again putting his hand on the cart.

“Sweetcheeks, just admit it.”

It was embarrassing to admit. Your pride made you too stubborn to admit. Your hands tightened on the bar. He tested you. on purpose. For what reason? Probably to find out if it would make you jealous or not. Well, it did, and he was probably right. But you weren’t gonna tell him that.

“Just pick out some damn clothes.”

Ben laughed. That deep booming laugh and walked away, allowing you some time for yourself. He knew how to push the right buttons. He knew how to get under your skin. Was that a good thing? Your ex couldn’t even begin to scrape the surface.

You followed as Ben wandered around the clothing section of Walmart. He grabbed some grey sweatpants and undershirt tank tops and threw them into the cart.

“You’re such an old man…” You muttered.

Ben turned around, throwing you a dirty look. Seems he didn’t appreciate that comment. Who wore undershirts in this day and age? Nobody you knew, that was for sure. He had only picked out a handful of clothes. Guess he didn’t need much.

You found Dean and Beau trying on boots. They were laughing together, doing impressions of someone. You didn’t get it until Dean lowered his voice, made himself look all serious and barked out:

“I fart the star spangled banner!”

Of course, it was a perfect imitation. Beau collapsed with a fit of laughter. Behind you, however, was another matter. You turned and collided with Ben. He huffed and snorted, nostrils flaring like a bull preparing to charge. You pressed your hand to his chest. Fuck, it was hot.

“Fuck you, you bendy legged fuckface!”

He stepped forward, forcing you back. You pressed a hand to his chest again.

“Please, Ben. He was only messing. He didn’t mean anything by it.”

Ben huffed, hands curled into tight fists. He didn’t care that he was in public, but you did. He took another step closer, again forcing you to step back.

“Watch your mouth.” Ben warned and walked off, presumably to cool off.

You stared after him, calling his name until you could no longer see him. It frustrated you at how sensitive the Supe was. It seemed he could give it but couldn’t take it.

“Jeez, he can’t take a joke, can he?”

You swiped a hand down your face and turned to Dean and Beau.

“Y’know, I was kinda hoping that since you both have a nice friendship thing going, that Ben would join in and have the same.”

Beau sat on the stool, looked at Dean and then at you.

“Darlin’…”

Honestly, you didn’t wanna hear it.

“Tell me you were only messing around, D?”

Dean sighed.

“Yeah, I was just messing around.”

But from his tone, you could tell he was lying. An array of emotions pained you, but disappointment was the biggest one that fatigued you. You had expected better of him and Beau.

“I’m gonna go look for him.”

Dean stood, moving the shoebox out of his way, before stepping to you.

“Y/N, c’mon…I was only messing around.”

“Oh, yeah? Who else did you impersonate? Or was it only Ben?”

“He does a really good Yogi bear impression.” Beau piped up, not helping at all.

“I know!” You snapped, storming off.

Tags: @yvonneeeee, @curlycarley, @angelbabyyy99, @sassy-pelican, @k-slla, @deans-spinster-witch, @ashdoctor, @eretsupremacy89, @fanfic-n-tabulous, @deans-number-one-fan, @afro-hispwriter, @justjensenandhisalteregos, @tiredstrangerr, @zemosdarling228.

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lanabuckybarnes · 22 days

Text

Brain rot, Brain rot.

18+ Minors DNI

(I do not own any photos used, credits go to the original owners)

A little piece I’ve created about my favourite roles that Seb has played (the ones I’ve watched so far) because Mr Lee Bodecker and Nick have got me in a literal chokehold.

( I know about their red flags but girlies im colourblind).

Just wanted to try something a little different, Warnings are under the cut.

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x reader, Nick Fowler x reader, Steve Kemp x reader, Bucky x reader

Warnings: Spoilers for the movies, mention of Cheating (It’s Lee being unfaithful per usual), Dark Lee, Manipulation, Throat fucking, Size kink, Breeding Kink, Mentions of Pregnancy, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Teasing, Cock Warming, Pussy Eating, Mentions of Cannibalism, Biting, Dry Humping, Dark Steve I suppose (Steve being Steve), Voyeurism. DO NOT READ IF THESE TRIGGER YOU, if I’ve missed any warnings please let me know.

Whew Lordy.

Lee bodecker is a filthy man, with 100+ glaring red flags and you still peruse him?! It’s a wonder the townsfolk don’t have you sent to the looney bin. He absolutely loves it when his little mistress (you) wraps herself in his leather coat, just the thought of you wearing it gets him all possessive.

He loves a lady he can manipulate— bend and train to his will. A girl that when he comes stomping into her little cottage she’s there with a steak on the table and her mouth open for him. Not only does a sweet little lady appeal to him because of their naivety but because of just how shy and innocent they really are.

If you in a pretty white frock while he fucks your face is the last thing he sees as he closes his eyes on this world, he’ll die a happy man.

Also size kink demon, loves when his thick hand engulfs your thigh or when you have to go onto your toes to kiss him, loves it when one of his big ole palms can hold your wrists above your head while he pounds away at you. It’s like a ritual now for him to sit his fat length over your pussy just before he plunges in, he loves imagining just how deep he’ll be hitting you when he fucks you.

Talks about getting you pregnant A LOT. You never knew it was a kink till you were talking with some of the older ladies about your ‘mystery man’. When you brought up the fact that he’s constantly moaning about swelling that little belly up, giving you his son, they all confirmed what he was experiencing was a thing most ‘manly men’ felt. They assured you it would be a great honour to have a man’s son but you played with the hem of your dress in guilt and shame, he wasn’t your husband and he thought of you as nothing more than his little side piece to make up for his boring wife.

Please ride this man while wearing his hat, he will not survive.

Nick Fowler, I don’t really know much about him— I mostly watched clips of him on YouTube but I just imagine him with a phat daddy kink. When you whimper daddy for the first time he just about spurts right then and there.

Loves teasing the shit outta you, how many times have you came on his fingers and tongue? You don’t know but you feel fucked out— you don’t think you could handle another, Nick just scoffs.

“Come on baby another for me” he encourages, his sopping fingers circling your sensitive bud and all you can do is lie back and take it.

When he’s had a real bad day all he wants is for you to get those fucking clothes off and sit on his cock, you don’t have to move he just wants to feel your warmth and how you squeeze against him.

Now if you think you were insane to go after someone like Lee you must actually be crazy to let Steve near you, even after finding out his little ploy, how you were nothing more than meat to him— you still let him fuck you. This man knows how to eat, he’s down there for every course, slowly spreading your folds with his fingers and liking a strip up from your hole to your clit before diving straight in. He’ll have you loosing your voice over the way you scream when he drags orgasm after orgasm out of your pretty body

Constantly talks about eating your flesh while he kisses you, occasionally biting down nice and hard leaving teeth marks all over the meaty parts of your body. Even before you found out he was a cannibal he’d be biting and licking on you, he called it sampling the meat before he bought in.

Dress up nice and pretty for him, he loves it. He loves nice light colours and lacy material, the way it makes your skin look all flawless and doesn’t clash with the dark marks he’s given you has him hard in his pants quicker than you could imagine. Another man who loves being fully clothed while you’re practically naked. Has cum in his pants an embarrassing amount of times when you’ve straddled him, grinding your lace covered kitty against his bulge.

Although I write about him all the time I can never fully flesh out one of the fantasy’s I think of him in. This man, although awfully shy about his sex life with others, will and has absolutely ruined you in public places. A restaurant, he’s played with your little clit under the table and fucked you in one of the bathroom stalls, in a car while you, Sam and Steve were going on a road trip. Even once in Tony’s house during a party— Tony had almost caught you two bumping and grinding in his laundry room, the thought of how close you two were to being caught had Bucky biting on your shoulder and coming all up your back quicker than he’d ever done before.

—

I have no idea where all these come from but I’m loving it.

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danses-with-dogmeat · 5 months

Text

Day 31 -- Edward Deegan

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober 2023, Day 31 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don’t interact.

Aphrodisiacs with Edward Deegan x g/n!Sole

Lordy lordy, how I was SO excited to write for this man. And hopefully this doesn't disappoint!

Sorry it took so long to get out as well, some life stuff came up this past week that held me up, but it's out now! 😁

I hope you all enjoy immensely lol 😏

Also, thank you to everyone who indulged me this October! Your support (especially with some of these lesser-known characters) was absolutely amazing! ❤️ I'm going to be taking somewhat of a lil break for the next couple weeks to post everything on AO3 and recover lol, but after that, I'll post an update and see about opening up requests for the first time in... Jesus, a VERY long time. I'll talk to y'all then!!!

Here is the link to my Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Aphrodisiacs, masturbation, fantasies, voyeurism-ish, attempted confessions, actual confessions, kissing, touching, hand jobs, affection, sweetness, cuddling.

Words: 4.6k

The door burst open with a crash, almost rattling off its hinges in his haste, in his salacious wrath and desperation. Edward closed it just as aggressively, feeling the surface of his skin itch, feeling his breath pull in with heavy, heady gulps that had his chest straining at the seams. Sweat poured from him, in a way the ghoul didn’t even know it could, with his ruined skin.

Is it happening? Is it… working?

He hoped so.

After the hell he just went through? The embarrassment of the overwhelming heat that was encasing him, the labor of his breaths, the haze in his expression. Normally, he’s cool as can be, smooth, stoic, even, but he was gasping, shaking, and more so than that, he was tenting out the front of his cargo pants to the point of blunt obviousness.

The symptoms don’t matter. He told himself, as the memory of Sole's baffled expression flashed in his foggy mind. As long as it works, none of it matters at all.

They’ll see him, for the first time, he hoped, Sole would see what he was before he was… this.

Edward didn’t like to wave his own flag too vigorously, no, he wasn’t a vain man, but he had been… maybe handsome was too strong a word, but he hadn’t been this, that’s for certain. Jack had reminded him time and time again, that he had been more attractive back before his ghoulification, but now he was more intimidating. It made his job of protecting the family and occasionally threatening people a bit easier, they both agreed on that account.

When it came to Sole though… he wasn't sure he wanted to be intimidating.

He didn’t know what he was doing, trying to get wrapped up with a pre-war widow(er) like them, but logic had nothing to do with this shit. Before them, he hadn’t cared, hadn’t minded the way he looked, hadn’t minded his solitude, his loyalty to this family and lack of contact with anyone outside of it. Edward had always promised not to dabble in Jack’s serums, no matter what outcomes they promised, but when it came to Sole, when it came to being… acceptable by their standards, he’d thought this was a good idea, thought it could make him… well, desirable was another strong word for him to use, but he at least hoped they could see him as something more than Jack Cabot’s bodyguard.

Edward growled as he tugged his hat from his head, throwing it to the worn, wooden floor below. His room was dark, musty, and consisted of nothing more than a weapon’s trunk, a dresser and a single bed on the far side of the little room. He cast bits of armor and clothing over the whole of the floor as he moved towards that shoddy mattress, hearing it squeak and protest as he laid back on it and tugged at the stiff fabric of his cargo pants. His underwear followed shortly after, both being kicked to the base of the bed as he spread himself out on it.

He felt he could crawl out of his own skin, hell maybe he wanted that. Maybe the transformation was happening now, but… goddamn, why was he so hard? Why was his mind so... stuck?

It’s true, he was usually thinking of Sole these days, but never this… disrespectfully. That curious expression of theirs as he excused himself from their and Jack’s meeting, the way their eyes had followed him out, the concern he saw there, right at the end. Oh, but how he craved their attention, even when it worried for him.

He imagined the sort of expressions they’d make if he had his hands on them now, if he could’ve stayed, thrown Jack out of the dining room instead of leaving himself. He could take them over the table, lying down the dining mats to keep the wood from harshly bruising their soft skin as his hands moved over their body, as he laid overtop them, pressing them into the oaken hardness until they were arching against it, setting his mouth on them, his lack of lips, his hot tongue, hearing them gasp, feeling them grow needy beneath his worshipful touch.

Edward’s breaths left him in pants now, very nearly moans as he found his dry, rough hand moving over his rigid, drooling cock.

What the hell?

He hadn’t even realized he’d grabbed ahold of himself, he’d been so wrapped up in his fantasy. Already, the sensitive skin around his shaft burned with the ungentle friction of his hand, but… he couldn’t stop himself, no matter how he tried to use logic, tried to think about the pain his thrusting palm was causing him, it was even more painful to consider pulling away, to leave himself stiff and wanting.

It was impossible, too, not to think of Sole. As much as it made him feel dirty, it made his teeth grit and his chest ache, there was nothing else in Edward’s head. No thoughts beyond them. He had no past, no present, no Cabot issues, no frustrations beyond the need to be near to Sole, the want to feel them in his arms, the gripping, dizzying necessity of feeling their warmth all around him, caressing, encasing his cock.

It was shallow, it was rude, it was creepy, but fuck… it felt too good.

He kept imaging it, in details like brushstrokes of a world-famous masterpiece, he saw the light in their eyes, the way their hair spread like a crown around their head, splendid and mussed from his attentions, the glisten of their spit on their lips, of his spit mingling there from their recent kisses, that vein bulging in their neck from the strain of holding back, from the greatness of the pleasure he brought them.

“Sole, holy shit…” Edward rasped through gritted teeth, hearing the slap of skin as his hand moved rapidly over his erection, hitting the base of him with such force it had him flinching and bucking into his touch in the same movement.

“Wish you were here.” He growled out, his voice a dry husk, breathless and scratchy.

If they were here though, is this really what they’d want to be seeing? Want to be doing... with him?

Probably not. Edward’s mind tried to reason. Still though, shit doesn’t stop me from wanting it. Needing it.

What the hell was in that serum?

The ghoul felt his cock might burst into flames with the increasing friction of his hand. He felt the foreskin catching at his textured palms, his calloused fingers, he felt pre-cum drooling down steadily, slicking what little it could as his hand tugged and bullied himself until tears sprung to the corners of his pale, bloodshot eyes.

Sweat poured in rivers down the grooves of his flesh, unchanged, unsmoothed and still just as ghoulish as it’d been yesterday and a hundred years before that.

If it doesn’t heal me… what will this serum do?

It was all his mind could afford to think. In short sentences, simple collections of words, as the bulk of his focus remained on Sole. Their face in the throes of pleasure, the imagined feel of them all around him. Their sweet scent, gritty but old-fashioned, somewhere between the adventures of the Commonwealth and home. The way their nails would scrape at his skin, the way they’d breathe his name, the way they’d seek him out, their eyes, their lips, their affections, all for him... In this ideal, fictional headspace of his.

Still though, Edward's imagination had his body frantically catching up, growing closer and closer to his release as he painted the image in his mind of what they’d look like in the midst of their own climactic end, brought about by his hand. The way they’d cry his name, grip tightly to his cock, pull him further into their desperate grasp as they shuddered below his frame– it was so real, his imagining of it all, that Edward went tumbling over the edge right along with them.

The ghoul couldn’t help the gasps leaving him, the moans that he begged the drywall not to allow to pass through, just in case Sole’s meeting was over now, in case Jack came to check on him, in case the house was silent, but for him. It was no use pleading with the house though, not when his voice was so stubborn.

Not when his imagination decided to materialize something beyond his comprehension– beyond his wildest fears.

“Shit… Ed– I’m sorry, I should-- yeah, I'll just...”

Sole’s voice was so quiet, like it was entering his ears from another dimension; distant, like melodies from a neighbor’s radio across the street.

He almost didn’t react to their presence at all.

Almost.

No true words left the ghoul, then, as he frantically pulled the scratchy blanket over his lap on the mattress. It did little to cover the way his erection still stood, stiff and stubborn, tenting the fabric as he moved to conceal it and as much else of him as he possibly could in such haste.

Edward allowed himself one clear of his throat, before he began apologizing, explaining his actions away, pleading their forgiveness, questioning if they saw anything– all at once in a strange amalgamation of nonsense that even he scratched his head at.

“S-sorry. Not– This isn’t– You should probably– Ah, shit, Sole…” He ended with a defeated shake of his head, feeling embarrassment of two separate types heating his ears and cheeks with each passing moment they spent looking over at him. First, was the shame of this person that he loved and admired seeing him utterly debased and wretched in his dark little room, with their name on his tongue as he did it. Second… Well, the shame that he’d tried to change himself for them, without even knowing if they were interested at all, that he’d been so desperate as to do this to himself, rather than simply be honest with them.

Two hundred years of protecting an ancient, powerful family from all manners of incomprehensible harm, and he was still a coward. Afraid of his own feelings, afraid of rejection, afraid of his own damn skin.

“Are you…” Their gentle voice snapped him out of his mental anguish, “I just wanted to come and check on you. After you ran out on the meeting, well… It looked like you were gonna be sick or something. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Edward gulped, audibly and visually, and felt another wave of heat threaten to consume him, his cock jerking angrily below the blanket as a chill ran up his spine.

Knock it off. His command to his body became more of a plea as he felt the serum bubbling up in his veins once again.

“Wish you hadn’t seen this, Sole.”

They didn’t leave, didn’t cringe or cry out or laugh at him, not when they first saw him, and not now. No, instead, Sole reached around and closed the door with a click behind them as they stepped into the dim little room, and made their way to sit on the far edge of his bed.

“Are you alright?” Their bright eyes stayed locked to his, “What happened, Edward?”

His name on their lips was like a firebrand to his heart, setting it aglow with new, resounding affection that made his fingers twitch and his teeth grit together.

“The serum…” He managed out, “Thought I could take some. See what happens, see if…”

Edward’s own gasp interrupted him, as his body carried on with its basal needs without his consent. His fists clenched until his knuckles ached, until he felt the blood flow from his wrists halt in its tracks.

“That’s what did this to you?” Sole blinked at him, their eyes remaining respectfully on his face as his body reacted to their voice, their proximity, the continuing effects of that damned serum. Still though, even with all their unflappable respect for him, Edward could see they way their fingers fidgeted, the way their face seemed to heat, the way they so stubbornly made sure to keep their gaze on his face, and as far from his lap as they could without being overtly obvious.

"Jack said that he was experimenting a bit with the serums, but this is... Well..."

Sole cleared their throat as Edward mentally kicked himself.

Should've checked with the boss before trying this shit out on myself.

Idiot.

They must've seen the way he chastised himself within, for in the next moment, Sole scooted themself closer, and put a hand on his covered knee.

"I don't know if it's any of my business, really, but... Why did you take it?"

None of their business..? Edward could've laughed aloud at that. If only they knew.

"Thought it could help." He said vaguely, his voice still strained, his breath still more rapid than it had any right to be.

The place where their hand laid over his knee, even with the bed sheet keeping their skin from his, zapped life-giving defibrillations all throughout his body. It charged the blood in his veins, collected in pockets of heat in his chest, the base of his spine, the back of his head, between his legs, imprisoning the words in his head that he fought to pull out through his mouth. He wanted to tell them the truth, felt he needed to now, that they deserved to hear it, but his body demanded more. It wanted to act on his debased musings and pull Sole into his arms right now, to set his hungry mouth upon them, to tell them, not with his voice, but with the grip of his hands, the aching need of his heavy breaths, to show them, in favor of messily prying the words from his throat.

Can't do that. His true self told his body firmly, as many times as it could, to keep his hands in place on the mattress, to keep his eyes on the wall, rather than sweeping over their vault-suit clad body.

If I give myself an inch, I may not be able to stop.

That terrified him more than any other effect the serum could have on him. It scared him and made his mind and body tremble like the thought of becoming feral.

"Help what?" Sole prompted with a gentle whisper, and he could taste their breath as it washed over him. Jack's dessert coffee. Chocolate bon bons. Those sweet, frozen cherries the family has managed to keep all these years.

Edward's mouth watered.

"Edward?"

He must've been silent longer than he realized, but finally, the ghoul was able to blink, to take in a breath and hold it there, rather than panting it back out straightaway like a dog.

Maybe it's wearing off?

He could only hope.

Yet... The persisting aching firmness of his cock, the sweat collecting at the base of his back and along his chest, under his arms, it all told a different story.

"Sorry," He all but choked out the word. "I... It was for you."

Forcibly, he took the chance and set his gaze upon their face, trying to keep his body under his firm control as he took in their reaction.

"M-me? How... Why?"

Why? He let out a dry chuckle. That's a dangerous question to ask if you want to be out of here before dawn.

"Wanted to be better. Wanted to change so you could... So we..." A forceful shudder ran through his body, stilling his tongue, forcing his muscles to clench until they knotted, making his hips buck up off of the mattress until Sole was forced to pull their hand away.

"Shit--" His voice was back to a growl: low, intense, and charged with carnal desire he only dreamed he could keep at bay. "Have to leave, Sole. It's coming back."

"W-what is?" They stayed firmly, infuriatingly, next to him on the bed, their voice concerned, but also... something else.

"Edward," He felt his cock pulse and drool below the sheet at the way his name left them. "Tell me how to help you. I want to help."

"No." The ghoul shook his head, even as it fell backwards, slamming into the wall behind him as his body writhed and demanded attention.

"Please."

Fuck. He thought, his head still shaking in denial. Don't say that.

"It hurts me to see you like this. Especially if I had something to do with it."

Everything to do with it, more like.

"T-touch me."

It left him before Edward had a chance to reign it in, before his consciousness could plead with this serum-induced need of his and tell him to be patient, to speak to Sole, to tell them the whole truth, to take things slow, to make it last.

To his surprise though, instead of being offended, of scoffing and walking away, of looking disgusted or scared at his request, Sole, at last, let their eyes trail down his body. They even smiled as they bit their bottom lip, and moved their hands out towards him.

Without thinking, Edward leaned forward and into their touch, letting their palms press to the rough hills and valleys of his frame, letting them slide over his bare, glistening chest until one moved up to his face, and pulled him into a surprisingly lustful kiss.

Their passion rivalled his own, even, as they crawled almost on top of him, as their fingers thirsted for more area to touch, as they tilted their head and set their soft, warm lips upon his with vigor, kneading over his own marred mouth like his tongue held the key to their survival. It seemed theirs really did, in his case. His body needed them-- their touch-- like life needs water, needs air, needs sunshine, like a heart needs blood and a mind needs a thought. These feelings, the sensations they inspired, were a direct product of his being, but also the very reason he seemed to exist.

Edward finally gave permission for his own hands to set upon them in turn; though, he held back the force that the serum screamed to take them with. Stiffly, his palms caressed their waist, the jut of their hips, the small of their back, up to the base of their neck. He touched them like he was meant to cover them in it, like he was stained with paint meant to encase their entire being. Edward let himself kiss them, too, with the fervor this heat within him demanded. Let himself commit the shape of their lips and the sweet taste of them to his memory.

In case I never get the chance again.

He wasn't sure he'd blame them, if that was the case, but... at this point, there were many signs that pointed to something he hadn't considered.

Do they... Have they wanted me too? All this time?

Edward wished he could ask, but thoughts were like rising steam, and he wasn't able to grasp onto a single one and form it to words. Especially as Sole's hands travelled over him, as their lips left his and they moved their body downwards, adjusting so they could pull the sheet from overtop his bare form.

They did it slowly, their eyes asking before their voice could: 'Is this okay?'

He nodded to them, breathless, with his hands still firmly set upon their body, and they slid the scratchy blanket off him and to the unoccupied side of the mattress.

Sole barely took a pause, their eyes looking him over with just enough time for him to doubt their attraction-- no, their tolerance-- to and of his appearance. But then their hands were moving again, one sliding to the back of his neck, urging him back to their beckoning lips, while the other grazed over the head of his weeping cock, and took it in-hand.

"I've wanted this too, you know." Sole whispered into him, their hand moving slowly but firmly along the stiffness of his shaft, building that ever-growing heat in him to the point of pain.

Edward's mind was so addled, so distracted by their blinding touch, that he almost didn't hear what they'd just confessed. His eyes blinked open, his grip tightened unwittingly on their body as his expression pleaded 'tell me again.'

"You don't have to change a thing, Edward." Their thumb circled over the overly sensitive slit in his cock, and he pulled a hissing breath in between his teeth. "I want you just the way you are now."

Sole leaned in again, and he pressed forward more firmly than intended, thanking them with actions rather than the words he couldn't seem to muster in his current state. He moaned into the kiss, even, as their hand continued its relentless stroking, as it circled and tugged at his skin in a way more delectable than he ever seemed to master, than he ever thought was even possible.

But maybe that was because it was Sole's hand that was doing it.

They tried to pull away, to take in a much needed breath, and Edward couldn't help himself, couldn't pry his phantom lips away from their skin. He set them upon their cheek, down to their jaw, feeling the way their muscles clenched there in response, the way they shuddered when his rough lips journeyed to their sensitive neck.

Edward could feel everything.

He wasn't sure if it was the serum, or just the way his mind and heart clung to this contact-- to the fact that he was really here, doing this with Sole, with the man/woman of his dreams and most profound desires-- but he could feel every raise of a goosebump on their skin, feel their pulse thundering in their veins, could taste the essence of their being in their scent, on their flesh.

Their whole story: living before the war, the soap they'd used all those years ago, the cream they'd rubbed into their skin, and then their years locked away in their frozen prison, the hint of ice, of coolness they radiated from those long years, the ache of their great sadness, the strain of their muscles for undergoing that horrendous trauma. It was all there, beneath the touch of his lips, caressed by the heat of his breath. Edward cherished every bit of it, loved them for their scars, the same way they cared for him in spite of his own.

He didn't know why he didn't let himself see if before, didn't let himself believe it was true, but they really were a fine match.

Him and Sole... they understood each other. He knew their experiences better than any born and raised wastelander could, knew their struggles more intimately than the Cabot family ever could... and Sole knew of his own suffering more than any other human ever could.

Why'd I have to turn to extremes so soon? Risk fucking this up...

It was the only question-- the only thought-- he could stand to formulate as of now, as their grip squeezed over him, as their stiff fingers wrung his pleasure from his core out to the surface. Edward felt it building, felt the swell, the rhythm of his bucking hips grow fevered and desperate, and he felt their smile, even, before he glanced up to see it.

It was a focused sort of grin, their brows were drawn, their pupils blown wide and dark and wanting in a way that he thought it might just be his own reflection shining in them.

How could Sole look this way, for a man like me? A man, that isn't even--

The ghoul didn't have time to finish that thought, not as their thumb swiped over his tip again, as their other hand went down to join the first, massaging and kneading over his aching, burning, destitute hardness until he was holding back cries.

The meat of his wrist fit between clenching teeth, his forehead pressed to the hardness of Sole's collarbone as he leaned into the contact, aching and screaming for more with everything apart from his voice.

If Jack heard, or Wilhelmina...

If he hadn't been so occupied, he might've shuddered at the thought.

But this? Letting go, being vulnerable, allowing himself pleasure, a moment that was truly private between him and Sole? Anything was worth that. He'd lose his job, his room here, his name, his life, if it meant he could do this, see this, feel this again, with Sole by his side, in his arms, touching him this way.

He half wondered if he'd passed out in his bed after the last bout of pleasure, if he'd fallen asleep and the serum inspired the sweetest dream there was.

Sole's voice though, the feel of them, the way their scent and being surrounded him in every way... it couldn't be the case. It was sweeter than he believed reality could be, especially these days, but damnit, there was no doubt in his head that it was real.

"Let go, Edward."

Their voice was pleading with him, their hands pulling him along, never ceasing, as they brought him straight into that all-encompassing bliss. He couldn't hold back now, not at his climax, and Edward's head flew back, his muscles straining, his mouth falling open to release the most animalistic of sounds: a groan from the very base of him that had Sole writhing and gasping right along with him.

I made him sound like that. Their touch cried out as their hands squeezed and clenched until his essence was spilling out onto his clenching stomach, pouring down over their fingers and soiling the bedsheets below.

"Yes." Sole breathed, and he felt another shudder jolt through him, another spurt of seed from his pulsing cock. "That's it, hon. Let go for me."

Tears were collecting at the sides of Edward's eyes, his relief and euphoric release leaving him in trembles and heavy breaths.

It took a few moments, took the last of his pleasure to bleed out, and then Edward was back on earth, back in his room, back in this skin once more.

Sole pulled their touch from his over-sensitive cock, wiping their soiled hands carefully on the bedsheet before lying down beside him and resting their head on his shoulder. A cool hand smoothed its way over his body, making a home over his sweltering, still-heaving chest as Sole clung to him.

The serum hadn't quite worked, not the way Edward had intended it to, but... It really had worked though, hadn't it? Not the way he imagined, sure, but the end result was... close enough.

He didn't even realize it, not until his cheeks began to ache, but he was smiling, grinning toothily like a fool in love, as Sole rested against him, as he wound his arms around their form, holding them close, savoring every ounce of the person who accepted him, who didn't turn him away, who cared for him... as he was.

"Thank you." He rasped, sliding his hands over them as soothingly as he could manage.

Sole only hummed, a sweet, happy sound, and he felt the vibration of it throughout his body as they lay against him.

He felt at peace, then. He felt warm, he felt sated and valued and more content than he could ever recall before, and yet... A familiar sort of churning, a boiling sensation rose from deep inside him. His muscles twitched and his tired member gave a rousing pulse between his legs.

Edward could only swallow and do the ghoul equivalent of blushing, as Sole's wide eyes peeked up at him with one eyebrow quirked in question. Though, as he looked down at them-- in a coy, apologetic sort of way-- they still wore that fond, fiendish smile.

The night wasn't over just yet.

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout companions #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 npcs #fallout npc #fo4 #edward deegan #fallout edward deegan #edward deegan fo4 #sole survivor #sole #g/n!sole #dwd.nsfw #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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lavender-romancer · 8 months

Text

He's So Pretty

Jim Kirk x Reader CW: distress, angst, romance

Kirk had no idea you felt the same way for him as he did for you, as you plan to leave Starfleet. Is it all too little too late for the two of you?

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

He felt dead inside, Kirk wouldn't show it but he couldn't stand the fact you were leaving and it hurt even more that he'd never gained the courage to be honest with you. His plan was to have a meeting with you as a farewell in his Captain's quarters before you left the enterprise when they docked in Yorktown to refuel in a few weeks. But he didn't know if he could wait that long, he'd been holding this in for so long it felt like it was begging to be let out. You were too good for him and he knew that his feelings were real because he hardly ever bit his tongue but he was terrified you wouldn't feel the same as him. The only person to ever get his tongue tied, the only person who he would always be looking for in a crowd, it was unexplainable how much he cared about you. But now... now you were leaving and fuck, he wished you knew everything going on in his head.

"You're gonna kill yourself with guilt if you don't say something," Bones said in a matter of a fact way.

"I am aware, Bones." Jim grinned because he knew how dumb and high school it all was.

"Just tell the damn girl!" Bones exclaimed.

"Oooo. What girl is this!" Both the men jumped at the sound of your voice walking into the bar, they both went silent "Awh come on, is this a boys club conversation?" You put your hands on your hips and Kirk laughed.

"Something like that, dumbass," Kirk looked up at you and you rolled your eyes before punching his arm.

"You love me really, no matter how many times you insult me. You're gonna miss me!" You reached over the bar and grabbed some vodka making yourself a quick mixed drink.

"More than you know," Bones muttered so only Jim heard and gave him a look.

"Right, drink up Cap!" You cheers' with Jim and then both downed what was in your glasses.

"No cheers for the doctor I see," Bones rolled his eyes and you shook your head

"Absolutely not letting you run free! I'm just pouring another drink my dear doctor." You poured a vodka shot and looked at Bones who was regretting speaking up.

"Cheers to that I s'pose!" You and Bones clinked glasses before knocking your heads back. Kirk just looked at you in awe, his eyes looking up in adoration. Bones noticed it first and smiled to himself.

"What's with the puppy eyes, Kirk?" You teased and Jim very slightly blushed. He thought he hid it well but you couldn't help but think about how pretty he looked.

The following week, Kirk was mentally planning when to have that meeting with you, he had two weeks left till they docked. That wasn't that much pressure but he'd been holding in these feelings for nearly 6 years and didn't really know what to do if you didn't see him the same way. Kirk had absolutely no idea how you thought of him, he knew you were friends and maybe a bit flirty from time to time but nothing that couldn't be explained by being close friends. I mean Jim flirted with everyone, he was an Aries through and through so it didn't surprise him that regardless of gender he was going to be a bit playful. But with you, he had actual physical reactions and it was like being a teenager with a pathetic crush. You gave him butterflies, you made him nervous blush and hide his face and pretend he hadn't noticed your hand on his arm.

Kirk couldn't help but believe you knew what you were doing but it seemed so unlikely because you were so confident, you were afraid to tell someone how you felt. Why would you keep your feelings towards him hidden if they were there?

"Y/n, you've been asked to the Captain's quarters," Nyota told you with a friendly smile.

"Oh lordy, what kind of going away malarkey has been prepared, I wonder." You grinned at your friend and she raised her eyebrow.

"Oi you, get that mind out of the gutter," you rolled your eyes. "I'm sure it's sweet , he's always been very thoughtful when someone leaves the ship."

"Oh I'm sure it's very personal…" she winked and you covered your mouth so you didn't laugh.

"What merriment have you two clowns got into then?" Bones asked as he walked past with some new equipment he'd been testing.

"You have to be nice to me, Bones. Leaving orders say so," you narrowed your eyes at him, he stopped

"Oh is that so, Sunshine?" He raised an eyebrow "And on whose authority is that?"

"The Captains of course, I've been summoned to his quarters for what I can only hope is an attempt to celebrate my leaving without sounding too excited," you laughed and Bones said nothing.

"Cat got your tongue?" Nyota asked Bones, folding her arms with a smile.

"Oh not at all, I'm just holding it so I don't gossip like some old woman." Bones raised an eyebrow and you looked at him, puzzled.

"Well what does that mean then?" You paused and he said nothing "Bones? What are you talking about?"

"I mean if I can get in on some gossip where Bones is involved then I'm all ears." Nyota let one side of her mouth turn up.

"You two are out for trouble, look it's not my secret to tell so you'll just have to find out eventually yourselves." Bones gave Nyota a knowing look and you looked between the two of them till Bones looked away.

"Well what the hell was that?" You exclaimed looking at Nyota.

"Well now I know you have to go and see Kirk right this second," Nyota leant against the corridor wall and had to put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

"You," you pointed at Nyota, "you are a troublemaker." You laughed and headed off in the direction of Kirk's quarters.

You had no idea what Bones was on about but deep down you hoped. You'd been pining after Jim for so long it felt like an age, you had known each other for so long that you really didn't think there was any way Jim could've gone this long without revealing his feelings. You got drunk together so often and had never even kissed, he'd never revealed any secrets about his feelings whilst inebriated. Being realistic if Kirk hadn't revealed his feelings whilst being drunk it was unlikely he had those thoughts in his head, he was so easy to get secrets out of when drunk. But you couldn't help thinking about the weird interaction between the three of you a minute ago, what did they know that you didn't?

You knocked three times of Jims door and held the sides of your skirt with your thumbs pressing against your fingers through the fabric. It was so damn frustrating how nervous you were when you could just be walking into a normal and civil meeting. Getting your hopes up was a dangerous activity especially when it came to heartbreakers like Jim Kirk.

"Y/n!" Jim exclaimed, opening the door with a big smile, he stood back and let you step in.

"To what do I owe the pleasure." You looked around the room you'd been in often and considered that you might never see it again.

"Come sit," he gestured to the sofa with a bottle of wine on the table and two glasses. "Your departure has made me think about a lot of things." As you sat down Jim began pouring.

"What kind of things Kirk?" You narrowed your eyes.

"It's hard to determine, I mean definitely thinking of the past" Kirk carried on for a while, talking in what you would call filler but you weren't listening. He looked so fucking pretty, his eyebrows moving every now and then, his hair a bit ruffled after he had got changed. Jim was so so pretty and you didn't know how to focus on anything else, watching his lips move you just wanted to shut him up and kiss him.

"Y/n?" You snapped out of it "Do you know what I mean?" Kirk asked and you had to think for a moment about what would be a neutral reply so a question you hadn't heard any of.

"....yes?" You said in a curious tone and Jim laughed.

"You weren't listening were you," he smiled and you giggled.

"Not my fault you look so pretty," you mumbled into your glass as you took a drink, you thought it was quiet enough but Jim had heard and he almost choked on the wine in his own mouth.

"Was that a compliment I just heard?" Jim tried to play it cool but his voice cracked on the last word and you burst out laughing.

"Okay well now you deserve no explanation if you can't even get through puberty properly." You smiled at him and he raised an eyebrow.

"Well I'm not the one who thinks I'm pretty, am I. Hmm?" Jim teased.

"Well, I'M not the one who can't speak without sounding like a pre-teen." You shot back, jokingly narrowing your eyes at him.

"You're a little shit, you know that?" Jim asked, placing his glass down.

"Well you won't have to put up with it for too much longer will you," you joked and a silence fell between the both of you, joking like this had made Kirk forget about that fact "Are you okay, Kirk?"

You looked deep into his eyes and it took all his willpower not to take your face in his hands and kiss you. Instead he stood up and walked around the room, hands on his hips he sighed.

"Well now I know you're not alright," you paused and stood up, there was a distance between you both and you were slowly closing it down "What's wrong?" You asked at almost a whisper.

Kirk turned around and you were only a few steps away from him, his eyes were unreadable but looked deep into yours. He closed off the gap between the two of you and took you into a deep hug, you were caught off guard but didn't stop him. Instead you wrapped your arms around him just as tightly and leant your head on his shoulder. Closing your eyes the moment felt like forever and you didn't want to let go because it would mean you leaving him was something real. Kirk's hand went up to the back of your neck and slowly stroked your hair. The affectionate action could have made you cry if you weren't so determined to not reveal to him how you felt.

"There's something I need to tell you, Y/n." Kirk said near your ear and you drew apart, still holding onto his arms

"What is it?" You looked into his eyes and tried to read them, glancing down at his lips you bit the inside of his cheek.

"I've loved you ever since I've known you, Y/n. I can't help it and- and I've tried to show it but fuck, you won't let me. I can't think straight when you're around me and I've been pining after you for so long it doesn't even feel real that you're leaving now," Kirk's eyes held so much emotion you feared you might fall into them. How…how was this real?

The silence had been considerable now and you didn't know what to do, your mouth slightly open and staring into his eyes. You couldn't find the words so you just hugged him again, closer than before. Jim held the back of your head, scared you'd slip away forever. You mumbled something against his shoulder and he perked up.

"What was that?" He whispered and you turned your head to lay your cheek on his shoulder.

"I can't believe this has happened, I- fuck. I wasn't expecting it," You whispered and it made Kirk so anxious that he just held you until you'd eventually slip away.

"You can leave whenever you want," Kirk told you and you really did feel like you could but you didn't want to. Kirk may have been holding you but only because you allowed it to be so.

"What if I don't want to?" You asked, slightly pulling away from his shoulder and looking into his eyes with a smile.

"What?" Jim whispered, not believing what you were saying.

"What if I don't think what you're saying is crazy," you let your hands run down his arms till you were holding his hands "I don't know what you know about how I feel o-or how I…" you trailed off trying to find your words "But my feelings aren't so far from yours."

"You're making me fucking hope for something now," Kirk grinned.

"Oh shut up, talk like the normal Jim, please. I'm not used to you being all soppy." You teased, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek.

"You mean say something like how fucking highschool this all is?" Jim gripped your hands before looking down at your lips and back to your eyes.

"I mean I'm not surprised you come neatly packaged up with some drama." You raised an eyebrow and he just rolled his eyes.

"Oh do shut up," he let go of your hands and put them on either side of your face before leaning forward and kissing you.

You rested your hands on his forearms, leaning into the kiss as a warmth spread into your stomach. It was almost unbelievable that this morning neither of you knew how the other really felt and honestly you found it extremely endearing how honest Jim was.

"All the planets, places and people to see but all I wanted was you," Jim whispered when you drew apart and leant your foreheads together. You smiled and looked at him, he looked so lovely, all happy and pink cheeked.

"You're so pretty," you paused and he laughed "No I mean it, just so pretty." You trailed off and looked into his eyes, you could only imagine what they would look like in between your thighs…

"Someone's getting distracted by a thought, you've got that glazed over look." Jim narrowed his eyes.

"Ohhhh, nothing…" you turned around and pulled his hand with you "Just how much prettier you'd look going down on me. You know, nothing that exciting." You sat down on the sofa and held your wine in your hand as you crossed your legs. Bringing the glass to your mouth you raised an eyebrow and Kirk ran his tongue along his top set of teeth, thinking.

"I mean I can't say what it would look like from your point of view, but seeing you like that would be angelic," he walked towards you and knelt down Infront of you.

"Guess you'll just have to prove it won't you," You were teasing him now but Jim didn't seem to mind.

Jim was running his hands up your thighs until he met the hem of your dress, moving his hands inwards till they met the crossover of your legs.

"We could test your theory, you know, for research." He gave you a shit eating grin and you uncrossed your legs, leaning down to be face to face with him.

"Come on then pretty boy, prove your worth to me." You whispered and he looked so damn excited he could burst, you always suspected Kirk had a submissive streak.

#jim kirk imagine #jim kirk imagines #jim kirk x reader #james t kirk x reader #james t kirk #jim kirk #star trek fic #star trek fanfic #jim kirk alternative reality #star trek alternative reality

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jeanmoreausautismstickers · 6 days

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tsc spoilers to share the brainrot but just a few small moments for you that are just sitting in my head that I NEED to talk to someone about

- jeans promise to Kevin

- Jean hurting Jeremy during practice “Away, Jean. You’re hurting me.”

- “Now I am not safe with you, Captain” because jer asked about Riko

- jer calling Kevin and asking if Riko broke his hand

- just fucking RIKO oh man we knew he was bad but lordy lordy lord he’s a monster

What do you think of it? How do you feel about Jean? Or Jeremy?

I need you to know that all of things you've noted made me cry. okay anyway

tsc spoilers under the cut xx

Jean's promise to Kevin? I fucking threw up brother. like it just. that whole scene and all the complicated feelings has about Kevin (and Neil) but he's still not breaking Kevin's promise. he still makes promises with Neil. like just that small, almost childish hope in him. he doesn't hate Kevin nearly as much as he wants to say he does now that he's gone and I'm so obsessed with it

oh the "Away, Jean" scenes broke my heart because I have a feeling Nora might use Jeremy saying Jean hurt him in the future. be it Jeremy finally Losing It about something and snapping (unlikely) or Jean using it as an excuse as to why he shouldn't look at Jeremy (very likely). they both break my whole heart with this scene, but I loved watching (well reading) Jean grow as a player and as a person, and start to understand that he can change his little habits. it'll just take time and watching his coaches and captain give him the grace he needs for that learning curve has me nawing on the bars of my enclosure

on top of that, Jean telling Jeremy he didn't feel safe? gagged. the fact that Jeremy, despite KNOWING it was a bad choice, stepped away and respected Jean's (slightly self-destructive) boundaries? screaming and yelling and crying my eyes out. that scene hurt me in so many ways, but the biggest one is the fact that Jean knew Jeremy would respect him if he said it. I mean it was like a punch in the throat, but it created a lot of trust between them based on Jean's boundaries and I cannot be normal about it

I'm not gonna lie, I giggled a bit at Jeremy's absolute rudeness on that phone call. like it was definitely heartbreaking and I want to give Kevin a hug. and Jean. and Neil. but the gall to call someone and immediately ask for their traumatic backstory is crazy. anyway, that scene was sad but other than giggling a bit at Jeremy's word choices, it didn't evoke a ton of emotion in me? i already knew about Kevin's had from TFC-TKM so it didn't surprise me, but I did feel terrible for Jeremy and how he found out. he will be making GOOD use of his therapist in the future I just know it

I HATE RIKO. OH MY GOD. the whole book everytime I say his, or Grayson, or Zane's name I had to say a quick prayer for the murderous thoughts running through my head. I hate him I need to hurt him even though he's already dead

i loved this book so much. once the mental illness about it dies down and I can think of it without my heart crumbling I'm going to reread it. I loved all the characters (minus all of the Ravens of course) and I cannot wait for tsc2 to come out. I'm sooo excited and I hope we get a bit more on Jeremy's family and how he thinks he ruined it. it was such a beautiful book and it makes me so sick to my stomach (in a good way) and I love it like my firstborn

I loved loved loved Jean and Jeremy, both separately and together. the parallels of Jean's family giving him up as a child but Jeremy's family not letting him leave even though he's an adult? Nora is fucking insane and i love her for it. her brain is just so good. I hope they get more of Jean accepting he has a family with Cat and Laila and Jeremy. I hope he starts referring to the house they share as HIS house, instead of calling it Laila's. I know he already called it home but I need him to take personal possession of things other than his notebooks. he and Jeremy deserve the whole world and I trust Nora whole heartedly to give them that after she torments us first ♡♡♡

#tsc spoilers #jean moreau #riko moriyama #jeremy knox #grayson johnson #zane reacher #coach rhemman #neil josten #kevin day #the sunshine court #the foxhole court #the raven king #the kings men #all for the game #aftg #tsc #nora sakavic

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envious-dior · 9 months

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SKIN CARE SCIENTIST HEADCANONS

headcanons if you, a scientist, were apart of grace augustine’s team and managed to score not one, not two, but THREE hotties !! (tsu’tey, neytiri and our favorite colonizer, jake !!)

i will format this properly and prettily LATER

i have HEADCANONS and THOTS and they need to be released

that’s so emo of me tehe !!! “released”

okay back to one of my previous posts about YOU (but not really you, it’s just an OC without a name really) being on augustine’s team and literally only being there for skincare purposes

you bedazzled your name tag, you have a pink lab coat and bedazzled goggles !!! queen shit

its actually hilarious bc you probably only got recruited after writing a compliant about her book on botany bc it didn’t have the properties on how it does with human skin, is it a natural moisturizer or sunscreen or what auggie ???

and that somehow got you recruited

you are always talking back and need to have the last word she HATES you

jake on the other ??? y’all are BESTIES. he ADORES you to pieces

you call him “meals on wheels” after hearing lyle make a comment about it (again) bc you thought it was hilarious. you are the only he doesn’t mind hearing it from !!

anyways you and jake are besties from day one !!

this will be a fic one day and bc i self project, you now have curly hair (you are tender headed like me :(( )

you are FLABBERGASTED when your avatar has straight hair bro you are LIVID

you went on a rant for like five minutes after seeing your avatar and jake literally went heart eyes on you, baby boy has been crushing since DAY ONE

you, on the other hand, have not !!

he adores it when you complain. you complain a lot.

youre probably a privileged kid, you hate bugs, but adore the floral life of pandora. you are literally sobbing on your uncomfortable bed as you hear, whatever pandora adjacent of a cricket is, making noise near your ears you are trembling and you are complaining to anyone who will listen

jake is listening and has definitely killed more bugs than he could count

you are there when jake runs away to play with the flowers !!

and you look hot, auggie (grace augustine, you call her auggie) forbade you from wearing your skirts but you have jean shirts, a blouse tucked in or whatever, your killing shir !! girl boss girl queen !!

jake decides to fucking KILL YALL but taunting wild animals

you hate white men

you do not have an athletic bone in your body, you are literally whining and he’s telling you to stfu.

do you listen ??? no absolutely not, why listen to a white boy who was in the military ?? there is no good reason too !!!

yea Neytiri hates the absolute both of yall when she’s stalking y’all

you are also going heart eyes on her, as well as jake . jake type of people is people who are way out of his league apparently, or rich heirs(heiresses)

jakes trying to flirt while you’re absolutely silent bc lordy lord SHES SO PRETTY !!!

she had a symmetrical face, wide doe eyes and pretty lips you literally don’t stop thinking about her features, she’s so pretty you cannot look away

she thinks ur the fucking weirdest bro

but tsu’tey ??? TSU’TEY ???

you love a man whose holding a literal blade to your queue !!!! jake has an awkward hard on he doesn’t know whether to be jealous of you or tsu’tey

in this au ?? POLY RELATIONSHIPS RAAAAAAAAH

your probably semi-fluent in navi bc… ur actually meant to be on pandora lol

you tug on jake’s ear when he tries to approach etyukan (??? idk how to spell his name yall sorry) and now ensures a mini argument between the two of you

"JACOB CAN YOU FUCKING NOT—”

i wholeheartedly believe in jake sully’s full name being jacob timothy sully

it’s just right i cannot explain it he looks like a jacob timothy sully

ur mini dispute is only interrupted by mo’at whose touching all over you

you ??? heart eyes. you love her voice, the way she speaks, how she pronounces certain words !!!

i love mo’at and her voice she’s amazing she’s everything to me

she probably hates you

“im apart of the jarhead clan 🤓” you are stifling GIGGLED

BECAUSE THATS SO STUPID ??? ITS STUPID !!

you explain that ur a scientist, but ur not just any scientist, youre a cool scientist !! skincare RAAAAAH !!

they are not impressed with you. tsu’tey, who you decided that you will marry one day, is snorting at your words and calls you an idiot.

you are HEARTBROKEN

jake is now stifling his own giggles

he doesn’t laugh he GIGGLES he’s my lil meowmeow

mo’at decides neytiri will have to teach jake and you their ways, you are definitely complaining bc you can’t run without bursting a lung but she shoots you a look and you instantly quiet down

because it’s mo’at if she tells me to stfu, im shutting the fuck up what can i say

neytiri has to deal with two dimbasses and tsu’tey laughs until mo’at decides he’s also helping

PLOT TWIST !!!

yea that’s all i got im so tired imma head to sleep yall goodnight

#⠀⠀⠀ —⠀⠀❛⠀ my writing ! ⠀❜⠀⠀ᥫ᭡⠀⠀ˎˊ #• ˚₊✩⠀— dior dior dior !!#jake sully x reader #tsu’tey x reader #neytiri x reader #diors stupid headcanons !!#avatar headcanons !!

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lokorum · 8 months

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1 ,6 , 10, 12, 22, 36, 37, 57, 77 for Gortash x Isa ?👀

oh oh ooooooooohhhh thank you so much for your ask!! i hope you'll enjoy reading it!! <;3

1. who’s the primary protector of the two?

hmm, i can easily see at least a couple of reasons why tav if they are durge - gonna be fiercely protective of gortash and vice versa since they're the only two "survivors" of aaaaaall this mess they themselves created years ago. so i think they are kinda on the same lvl here? (especially after events of bg3 uuhhh)

but also - their understanding of "protection" is very different. for isa it's all about making sure that no one in the same room with gortash has access to sharp objects. (he kills rivals, neutralizes threats -that kind of stuff). while enver on the other hand protects through being extra thoughtful - he double checks all possible drawbacks of their plans; willingly spends time to manipulate\misinform people about anything related to bhaal's church; makes sure isa has the best gear and equipment, all that jazz!!

6. who holds a grudge the longest? definitely 10000% i'm absolutely certain - its gortash. if he turns out not to be the most vengeful bitch across the whole sword coast (and the one with a very good memory too) - i'm guilty of misinterpreting this character and should be punished by romancing someone super cute and kind (please dont do this to me).

what made me think that way is a sweet combo of his delusional perception of the world + his self-esteem, i guess? though in more close relationships i imagine him being the kind of person who, when offended, either becomes cold and distant, basically silent-treats you, or acts like nothing happened bc he can't\doesn't have time to process the situation. healthy coop mechanisms? i bet this stinky lil men never heard about them.

isa, well, isa is more of a "i deserve to bleed" kinda person............

10. which of the two is quick to speak and which one is quick to listen? ohhhhhh on any day of the week - gortash is a talkative one!! and isa are getting their "very good boi" badge and a cake for saying more than 100 words in one day (it rarely happens)

12. which of the two rolls their eyes the most often? gortash thinks it's him but he is wrong.

22. Who gets more easily embarrassed? gortash thinks it's not him, but it is.

36. who’s better at dealing with emotional trauma? WELL to paraphrase wendigoon: between planning to usurp all toril and going to the therapy - they chose violence.

37. who’s more foulmouthed? since isa's vocabulary consists mostly of "um", "ha?" and "heh", gortash once again is our winner! i think his criminal past left a mark on his speech, no matter how he plays all lordy and nobly these days. piss him off - and im 99,9% sure you'll hear something coooooolourful.

57. who’s got the highest pain tolerance? ohhh definitely isa for this one!! they can go days and days without treating their wounds, and they are horrible at realising they're wounded in the first place! broken bones, broken and exposed bones, deep cuts, bruises, concussions, knocked out teeth, burned skin, sliced skin, frostbitten skin, you name it - they had it. the way isa treats their body deeply horrified enver when he noticed the pattern but tbh??? sometimes i look at enver and think that he is one of those ppl who will lie down and cry if you slap them

77. who's more likely to execute their threats? both!! it's a family activity.

phphph ive made memes...............................................................................................................................................

#enver gortash #the dark urge #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate #lord gortrash my beloved #ketheric thorm #tagged the grandpa bc of the single meme #but im proud of it so jdfhkjshdfkjhdf

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yandereunsolved · 1 month

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I am kind of obsessed with the idea of Evan Peter's characters with a magic system like Steven Universe. If you aren't familiar, the most bare-bones way to explain this is that certain characters are able to fuse with each other because of their bond. Their mind, body, and soul become one and create an entirely new being. If their fuse is unstable, then they will defuse. If they take a lot of damage, they will defuse. They can also stably defuse and return to their separate forms. If you want to know more about what I am talking about, go to the Steven Universe Wiki under Fusion Gems.

Now imagine Evan's characters fusing to create new characters. Tehe. Especially in a yandere setting.

Your toxic boyfriend Kai Anderson takes you to the Cortez to spend the night because every other place is booked. You both meet James Patrick March. Kai and James click together like puzzle pieces. One is an aspiring cult leader and the other is a mass murderer. They both have grown to be madly obsessed with you. Kai is only willing to share because James is even better of a manipulator than he is. They fuse and create a new being— their obsession and individual abilities multiply tenfold.

Giggling and kicking my feet in the air rn.

Quicksilver and Tate? Peter moves into the Murder House and you're their neighbor. Peter acts like Tate is his brother. Tate is totally a normal human boy. Nothing to see here. They both are all lovey dovey with you... so they fuse by accident once because Peter runs through Tate. Then, they decide to show you their fusion.

The yandere Evans forcing you into an unstable fusion??? Uh, oh. :( Darling, you don't understand. You are precious to them. This is the only way you can be with them in mind, body, and soul. They need this. They need to be one with you.

The wholesome babies being Kit and FrankenKyle. Kit doesn't really understand the entire undead thing but he helps Kyle become more human. You are the witch/warlock/[insert other magical thing] that is currently taking care of Kyle. Kit just adores how sweet and loving you are with him. They both fuse over their mutual attraction to you. The fusion is a bit unstable because Kyle is undead— so his scars show up on the fusion. Imagine those eyes??? Kits look and Kyle's innocent baby expression??? You have an oddly charming, himbo boyfriend now. Sometimes he struggles to speak and maintain eye contact.

Austin Sommers and Mr. Gallant. More giggling. It would be such an odd pair but it'd work. It'd work. You totally know that it would.

Luke Cooper & Colin Zabel. Shh... Lordy, lordy. Give Luke some credit. He never intended to fuse with anyone. He thought the idea was fucking stupid and useless to begin with. Ugh, a detective— so how did they fuse? You work for Michael Scott and therefore with Luke. Someone broke into the office after hours (Michael bribed you into helping teach Luke office skills. It was coming along horribly and Luke just kept flirting with you.) and that person tried to kill both of you. A masked gunperson. Colin comes in to help solve the case. Both Luke and Colin... end up fusing when Luke shows he gives a shit about something. Which is you and your safety.

This is already so long. Anygays, do you want me to expand on this idea:? Genuinely curious. Cause I would love to see what people come up with... and what if there was just an au of Evans fused characters??? (Even non-ahs related— I write a lot of ahs. that is why I am saying this.)

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queer-overwatch · 12 days

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another Sombra rq!!!! I love her sm ok,, ty for the last request btw bc LLORD I LOVED IT 🛐 okay this time I'm thinkin sombra x fem reader who REALLY adores the way olivia looks and stares at her all the time but then reader is super insecure abt herself,,, as always any format!! have a blessed day!!

Sombra x Insecure!Reader

Yippie! FYI Sombras my dps main so everytime we get a request for her I'm like "MINE" and yoink it before Xorn even has a chance to see it lmao, hope your happy with me doing everything for Sombra >:3 -Frisk

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"I don't know what he was doing, something stupid obviously" Sombra, you're wonderful, pretty, smart, amazing girlfriend, was talking shit as per usual, though this time it was about Reaper.

You were trying to pay attention, really! But it was hard, especially when Sombra was in the best lighting ever, and her hair was just slightly messed in a way that makes it more gorgeous than you could put into words.

It was hard to focus on anything but her, especially with how pretty she always was. Despite how bad you knew it was, you couldn't help but compare yourself to them sometimes. It wasn't normally on purpose, it was just hard to not feel out of place dating someone so perfect. She was so smart and the absolute best at her job, even when working with people so "incompetent" as she'd say. "Hey, querida, are you listening to me?" You're snapped out of your thoughts by Sombra flicking you on the forehead, staring at you seemingly annoyed. Good lordy even her annoyed face is pretty, you've really got an obsession. "Hm? Yeah! Yeah I'm listening, sorry." You reach out and grab the hand she used to flick you, rubbing her knuckles with your thumb as you nod for her to continue talking. "Right, well anyway, I don't know why these old people keep coming to me with their tech problems, I'm not tech support! The only person who I told I'd help is Siebren!" You nod along, half listening to her rant and half in your own head. How did she manage to look so beautiful even while pissed? You had no clue what her secret was, not to mention her amazing fashion sense. One time you tried to dress like her, took one look in the mirror, and immediately put on the baggiest clothes you had.

You loved her, obviously, and were always more than happy to take her out on dates, using any excuse you could to admire her, but you refused to dress up the way she did. Dresses just didn't look right, no matter how you styled your hair it didn't look the way you wanted it too. God forbid you try and go to the beach, you'd be sitting in the shade in a hoodie and sweatpants before you let her see how...disappointing you were. "Anyway, how was your day, estimada?" She drags you around, checking on some expensive looking technology you couldn't even think of touching, let alone understanding how it worked. "Boring, I didn't do much, never do really." You laugh off her question, trying to make a bit of a sad joke to distract her. She stares at you for a bit, silently judging what you think is everything about you. Maybe she finally realized that she was far too pretty to be with someone like you. You didn't think you were like, hideously ugly, but maybe she did?! What if she was planning to break up with you, who would want to date you if you were rejected by the Sombra!? "Fair enough, a day off does sound nice, actually. I'd love to laze around all day in pajamas, lucky you!" She pinches your cheek, teasing you as she finally looks back to one of her many screens. "Really?" It was hard to imagine, the usually dolled up Sombra, lazing about and dressed so casually. You were sure she's still look just as amazing as usual despite it, she was somehow so effortlessly perfect. You were, uh, there. "Maybe you should take a day off then! I'm sure they can handle one mission without you, even if your team is as useless as you say they are!" You grab her shoulders, spinning her to be facing you with what you can imagine is the biggest smile she's ever seen on your face. Any opportunity to be able to simply bask in her glory was an opportunity you were going to make use of! You could imagine it now, her sitting there, watching tv in an oversized T-shirt and shorts. There was no way your imagination could do it justice, you had to see her like that in real life or you'd simply keel over and die. "Maybe, I should be free tonight actually" She shrugs noncommittedly, but you could see the slightest hint of red in her cheeks! That meant it was a yes!

"Perfect! I'll go find some movies for us to watch! You better hurry finishing up whatever it is you're working on! I love you, be ready at 8!" You dash off, leaving her with a peck on the cheek and a timer to set.

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Scrambling around your room, you desperately try and make yourself look presentable but also try to make it look like you didn't try and this is just how you are 24/7. Sombra was always so flawless, you couldn't ruin their night by being ugly! You check your phone and nearly throw it across the room. It was already 7:58! What if she was waiting for you and she thinks you stood her up and gets mad?! You'd never forgive yourself if you made her wait on you! Glancing in the mirror, you stop worrying about the time, or what movie you'll watch, or how your little date will go. Everything was suddenly replaced by pure shame. All that time you spent trying to look on par with your girlfriend, and this is how it came out? All that effort and energy and materials for..this? Was it even worth it to try in the first place? You loved Sombra so, so, so much, but no matter what you did it felt like you were playing the role of the ugly girl obsessed with a movies main character that's just there for comedic effect.

You're knocked out of your own thoughts again by a tap on the shoulder, getting a feeling of deja vu. You turn and see Sombra, as perfect and gorgeous as ever.

"You ready yet, slowpoke?" She takes your hand, dragging you out of room before you can bother to respond. Leading you to her own private corner of Talon's base, a forgotten storage room that she'd stolen and made her own, a password for the handmade high-tech door and everything.

She shoves you down onto a beanbag and takes her spot next to you, dragging one of your arms around her shoulders and handing you a remote for the tv she'd snuck into the room years earlier.

"You gonna pick something or not?" Again with her teasing, this time though it didn't feel like her words would sink into your brain and repeat in a much meaner tone when you looked in the mirror. This time it felt soft, less stressful.

You nod, smiling and throwing on an old action movie you were reminded of last week. You both got comfortable, and you felt her rest her hand on your stomach, head against your shoulder.

It felt nice to be touched, especially by someone like her. It was hard to imagine, someone like her loving someone like you, but if she could love you, maybe you could learn to love yourself too.

#sombra overwatch #overwatch x reader #sombra x reader #olivia colomar #fem reader #angst kinda #I but a happy ending bc im a sucker for happy endings <3 #Xornk

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