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shewrites444 · 1 year

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over [xavier thorpe x reader smut]

[written by me and only me. i have been super busy so it's a little shorter than usual, but i hope you still enjoy lovies ( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀)]

PART 2 LINKED HERE

word count - 1.4k

[summary: the reader, a normie, works with xavier during his shift at their local coffeeshop, where she learns about his crush on his classmate, wednesday, and intends to help him forget about it.]

[warnings: risky, public, dirty talk, oral, fingering]

"yeah, he never shuts up about her. it's kind of cute, honestly. tyler likes her a lot."

"what, no way! i don't know how she can like such an asshole!" xavier shouts in frustration, rubbing his forehead and leaning his elbows against the counter while i watch with a giggle, setting down one of the mobile orders on the endpiece.

i shake my head and walk past him to grab the next ticket, playfully nudging at his side. the lovesick boy was fairly attractive, i'd admit, but he was head over heels for this girl, considering he was already drooling over her to me, his coworker during his pilgrim world volunteer hours.

"don't get so fed up about it, dude. if she wanted you, she'd make it clear. tyler said she can be confusing, so i'm sure she is probably messing with the both of you." i explain, grabbing the cold brew from the fridge. "you may have to play the long game and wait. i'd suggest not doing that though, to save your mental health, you know."

xavier sighed, handing me a lid for the plastic cup after i poured the ice in. "i don't understand how you're so casual, and brutally honest, about all of this. haven't you had a crush before, just one you can't forget about?"

"obviously, we all do." i say, placing the new drink next to the other. i turn to face him, crossing my arms and shrugging. "but i just forget about guys. they're either too emotional, or have no emotions at all. it's better to just be single, and alone. you should try it - you look miserable."

"gee, thanks, [y/n]. best coworker ever. can't wait to spend two more hours with such a nice, lovely girl." xavier rolls his eyes, pressing the back of his body against the counter and looking down.

i smirk, walking over to the boy and lean against the counter aside him. i glance down, laughing softly. "you'd be a pretty cool dude to talk to for the next two hours if you weren't so down bad for a girl who just uses you for that sherlock homes shit she's trying to do."

"she doesn't use me."

i quirk my brow, tilting my head and crosses my arms at his statement.

"okay, at times. but that doesn't make her a bad girl!"

i sigh, throwing my arms into the air playfully. "here we go again! xavier picking the worst girl to like."

"shut up." xavier grins, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned back up. "let me live in my fantasy to help me feel better. like you said, long game."

"mhm. have fun with that." i tease, as i watch another paper print for a mobile order and walk past xavier, grazing my side against him as i lean up to reach for the sheet. i can feel a heat in my body from what i just did, biting my bottom lip as i grab the sheet and press it against the cup, feeling a presence behind me and seeing a shadow formulating aside me.

i turn around to see him standing infront of me, his hands both pinned against the counter on each side of me. i scoff, rolling my eyes with a grin. "so you'll try to use me, like wednesday does to you, as a distraction for your overall goal, because you're bored. funny."

"and you'll try to use me, like every other guy, so that you're a little less lonely every now and then. funny." xavier tilts his head, looking down at me with a smirk. "and i bet you find it kinky or some shit that i'm an outcast, too."

i set the cup down, moving one hand down to press against his pants. "if that's what you think my definition of kinky is, then i'm honestly a bit offended."

"then what's your definition?" he says as he leans himself down, pressing his lips against the top of my ear. "why don't you show me."

"why don't you get on your knees then." i snap back, moving one of my hands to hold the back of his head and nudge him down, watching as he followed what i asked.

i watch his khaki pants hit the tile floor as he tucks his hair behind his ears before reaching over to my shorts, unzipping them and sliding them down to my ankles, before he sticks one of his fingers into his mouth and into my entrance. i gasp, moving one hand to his head to guide him more towards me.

his tongue attaches to my clit as he begins to suck on it, one finger pumping itself in and out of me while he looks up to me, our eyes locking before i look up to the ceiling, closing my own while he stimulates me. one of my hands holds his hair as the other rests on the counter, which reminds me of where i actually am.

my eyes widen and i look around, noting that no one is in the coffee shop but in a way, it turned me on to know xavier was willing to do this regardless of where we were. i feel him slide another finger inside, snapping me out of thoughts and back to the knot that was forming in my stomach.

"you like that, [y/n]?" xavier pulls away from my clit, leaning himself back up to face me, now towering over me, while he pushes my body against the counter, helping me get on top of it, my ass pressed against the cold counter while he pumps his fingers into my warmth.

i lean my head against the cabinet and nod, a grin on my lips. "maybe, but that doesn't matter. it's not enough for me."

he smirks, looking down to push a third finger inside without hesitation, taking his free hand to hold the side of my face while he begins to rapidly pick up his pace, glancing down at me with the same stupid smile printed across his face from cheek to cheek.

i grip the counter with both of my hands, leaning up to press my lips against his for the first time during this entire encounter. i open my mouth to allow his tongue in, feeling my own juices touch my tongue while we continue to make out.

he persists, obviously trying to get me to reach my climax, as he aggressively finger fucks me against the counter. i bite his bottom lip, letting a small moan slip between our lips, which causes xavier to grin immediately upon my slip up. i earn one back from xavier as i reach over to his pants, unbuckling the buckle with one hand and sliding my hand into to rub against his hard length through his black boxers. i feel the boy sink against me, weak from any form of my touch.

"you don't know what i'd do for you to fuck me, [y/n].. you're so fucking hot.. fucking hell..." he moans against my lips as he slows down his pace, pulling his fingers out of my slowly, and attaching his thumb to my clit as he begins to rub, pulling his lips away from mine and looking down to lock out eyes. "do you want me to fuck you? hm? i'd fuck you right here, i don't care who sees. you're so fucking hot."

i tilt my head, slowly closing my legs enough to where his thumb was still able to remain attached to my clit. if there was anything that turned me on, it was playing games. if he really wanted me, he wouldn't give up.

"i think we both have work to get to, xavier. don't you think?"

he pulls his hand away a few seconds after my words, his eyes wide as he watches me shut my legs and slide off the counter, leaning down to pull my pants back up.

"no way." he buckles his belt back, leaning against the opposite side of the counter as he crosses one leg over to hide the erection straining from his pants.

i grin, walking back over to grab a cup for the order that i was supposed to make who knows how long ago. as i scoop the ice, i glance to xavier. "you like teases, clearly. but if it makes you feel any better, your girl is definitely missing out. so act the way you acted with me, with her."

xavier stands up, walking towards me and handing me the milk for the drink, watching me pour it as he wraps one arm around my waist, leaning down to peck the side of my forehead.

"i think my interests lie somewhere else at the moment." he grins, his other hand snaking behind me to grab me by the jaw, moving my head towards him to meet our eyes. "so this isn't over."

#xavier thorpe smut #x yn #xavier thorpe #x reader #wednesday #wednesday series #netflix wednesday #smut writing #fanfic #wednesday fanfic #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x reader

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jennycalendar · 10 months

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descending into deadlochposting on main i don't even care. this show is SO GOOD. i think the thing that really stuck with me throughout every episode is how committed it is to not fucking up women, and especially women of color, just to have a Plot Point + for Emotional Resonance!!! every woman on this show gets an ending that feels earned. (and yes that does include margaret carruthers.) there is just so much love woven into this narrative but they still manage to capture the grim miserable reality of patriarchy without EVER reducing a female character we care about to a Murder Victim or having her horrifically brutalized as an ending!!!! like holy shit, guys, it's actually fucking possible! you can create horror blended perfectly with humor and never actually fuck women over!!!

and yeah actually as a woc it felt really fucking good to watch a show where i got to see women of color (aleyna and tammy and sharelle and miranda and faye my beloved <333) just thrive and be silly and stupid and terrible and also lovable. and also, oh my god, revolutionary, NOT GET MURDERED, even though this is literally a fckin murder show!!! i said to my dad like midway through the series that i just got this sense the show understood how goddamn hard it is to watch television sometimes waiting for that character you love, who looks like you and has life experiences that resonate with you, to get killed, or to be treated like she's not important, and how dedicated it is to not just killing off women for shock value. every woman in this show mattered and had meaning and dimension.

because seriously, SO MANY INCREDIBLE WOMEN!!! abby with her perfect little haircut driving off into the sunset saying Of Course She Knows She's Right About Forensics. aleyna and her husband, her whole heart!!!! vanessa who in a lesser show would have been reduced to The Bad Woman, The Bigot, but we are shown how she has been abused and mistreated by men and how that's so informed her perspective + her genuine love for her son! sharelle who lays down the hard truths, who calls them out -- "all this civility but no fucking community" !!! miranda who learns that she doesn't want blood money from a woman who looks down on her cousin! tammy who is literally just all about that footy club the entire time even as men are being murdered and that's honestly so real of her. skye o'dwyer who perfectly captures that Emotionally Unavailable Dad energy except she's a lesbian and i love her. nadiyah who is Trying Her Best :) And Gritting Her Teeth About It :) faye who has no god damn patience for margaret carruthers and all kinds of blunt determined love for her niece and her daughter. vic who throws herself under the bus because she's just so determined to protect anyone she can after the women in this town protected her and kept her secret for so long!!! cath who parents her emotions and is definitely relentless in her guilting but also so relentless in her love. MARGARET CARRUTHERS WHO EXEMPLIFIES SHITTY RICH WHITE WOMAN. and of fucking course, the legends, the buddy-cop duo of all time, dulcie and eddie, who are just perpetually going around like this

except it's not even working because eddie chewed the leash off.

favorite show of the year by far. so so happy about it. rotating it joyfully in my brain for the next week, probably longer.

#deadloch #celia watches deadloch #deadloch spoilers #sooooorta??? in places????#i just . hgjkdhdkjh this is such a fucking show everyone should watch it #even if we don't get a s2 just having s1 was so worth it!

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baddestbittyontheblock · 4 months

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bucky barnes fic recs

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

✧╯ all things pink by @bucky-barnes-diaries tfatws!bucky x female!reader | fluff, 1.3k

-bucky being the sweetest boyfriend by bringing you flowers on your birthday.

✧╯ protector by @buckybabesonly bucky x female!avenger!reader, platonic steve x female!avenger!reader | angst, fluff, jealous bucky, bucky being slightly mean to reader out of over-protectiveness, minor character injury, 4.2k

-when steve gets injured on the field protecting you, bucky lashes out at you from fear of seeing you in danger, and jealously of steve’s arms around you.

✧╯ take me home by @miserable-sarah bucky barnes x reader | unprotected smut, NSFW, choking, kinda rough, praising (ALOT), smut, dirty talk.

-a guy hits on you at a club, bucky takes control.

✧╯ protector by @vxntagedior mob!bucky barnes x fem!reader | angst, arranged marriage, age gap, insecurity, violence, fluff ending, 1.5k

-the moment bucky fell in love with you

✧╯in the wee small hours of the morning by @hopelessromantic423 ex!bucky barnes x reader

-after breaking up with bucky, you miss him greatly but you don’t feel it’s your place to contact him. one sleepless night, bucky shows up at your doorstep and you two reconcile.

✧╯ one step at a time by @tmpestuous bucky x avenger!reader | angst, slight protective!bucky, mentions of death and killing, mentions of torture, blood, injuries, trauma, injured!reader. 4.5k

-when you get brutally injured on a mission with no way to contact anyone, bucky goes out to find you.

✧╯ touch it by @tmpestuous bucky x reader | 18+, MINORS DNI, smut, dom!bucky, needy bucky, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, rough sex, praise kink, dirty talk, explicit content, established relationship, some fluff, 2.7k

-bucky needs to feel your touch.

✧╯ i'm sorry if i scared you by @venusfalling bucky x reader | reader has long term injuries from previous battles, talk of injuries, canon typical violence

-you deal with the fallout of going to Madripoor with Bucky. part 3.3 of Where You Go, I Go. Based on Ep. 3 of TFATWS

✧╯ vodka on the rocks by @kinanabinks best friend!bucky x fem!reader | mature themes, angst, offscreen reader x john walker, sexual harassment, pictures taken without consent, hurt/comfort, protective!bucky, physical violence, mention of blood, fluff, a kiss.

-when you find out that someone you slept with secretly took photos and videos of you during sex, you feel betrayed - but bucky won't stand by and let that happen to his best friend.

✧╯ steel blue by @rassvetsky bucky barnes x reader | [4.3k] exes to lovers, angst to smut to fluff hehe, alcohol consumption, smoking, unprotected sex, making out, cunningulus, spit kink, marking, choking, bucky's such a gentleman

-"without giving you a chance to fight, bucky left. For your own good. but almost a year later, as it turns out, neither of you can handle being apart, and bucky missed you too much to play it nice when you're moaning out his name like that."

✧╯ dear january by @writing-for-marvel bucky barnes x enhanced!avenger!fem!reader | a little angst with discussions of bucky’s past & references to him having ptsd, reader has empathy related powers, fluffy ending

-while everyone else is celebrating the new year, all bucky can think about is his resolution and you, though the two are inextricably linked.

✧╯ 3 weeks waiting by @alwaysf0rev3r dbf!bucky barnes x fem!reader | needy!bucky (he needs a warning), m & f masturbation, face sitting, hand jobs, riding, desperate sex, slight sub/dom dynamic, m in f penetration, dirty talk, absolute filth, hair pulling, slight degrading, praise, creampie, age gap (buckys the age he is in the movies, and reader is in college, maybe in early/mid 20s?)

-you’ve been hooking up with your dad’s best friend for months, but you accidentally ghosted him during finals week. saying he’s desperate is an understatement.

✧╯ sunflowers by @bi-disaster-yn bucky barnes x fem!reader

-when bucky and natasha are assigned a mission to go undercover as husband and wife, reader can’t help but worry that their feelings from the red room will resurface.

✧╯ hold my girl by @pellucid-constellations bucky barnes x reader | 2k, fluff in bucky’s pov

-bucky comes home from a mission and needs time to hold his girl.

✧╯ bucky fic by @angrythingstarlight bucky barnes x reader | little bit o' smut, needy, whiny bucky

-“i have to go,”

✧╯ flash bang by @crushedbyhyperbole bucky barnes x reader | 18+ content mdni, smut, some angst, arguing, moody bucky, 1.2k

-how to win an argument with Bucky Barnes? Flash your tits, of course.

✧╯ sniper by @adrinktostopyourthirst bucky barnes x agent!reader | 18+, smut, violence and light angst, 8.9k

-reluctantly, you get thrown into an assignment with bucky and yelena, but bucky doesn't trust you as far as he can throw you. when he's proven to be correct, it turns out you're still a hell of a good team.

✧╯ almost speaking by @intrepidacious bucky barnes x fem!reader | 5.4k, miscommunication dialled up to eleven bc it's me; friends to lovers with lots of seething in between; set around christmas, but not a christmas fic; slight spoiler warning for wakanda forever just to be safe

-you and bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. that doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.

✧╯ three hundred by @adrinktostopyourthirst bucky barnes x reader | 18+. fluff and smut, 5.8k

-bucky always makes sure his best friend is okay, because that is what you need. he's caring, but very passive and nonchalant, because you need it. not him. he doesn't need that. he doesn't need you. does he?

#avengers x reader #marvel universe #marvel #marvel x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #fic recs

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desert-fern · 7 months

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Ring Around My Rosie - Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw X Fem!Nurse Reader (WWII European Theatre AU)

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw X Fem!Reader

Summary: The year is 1944 and the Second World War rages on. You have been a nurse in Belgium for nearly three years, having seen the effects of the worst things human beings can do to one another. One day, like always, an injured man is brought in. An American sailor too far from the ocean he came out of on D-Day and you both are entranced.

Warnings: blood, bullet removal, mentions of Nazis (it is a WWII AU so…), probably inaccurate depictions of wartime nursing, most likely factually incorrect WWII history, fluff so fluffy I gave myself a cavity just writing this, 1940s Bradley Bradshaw (yes, he is a warning)

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: If you can’t guess, this oneshot is a WWII AU inspired by a cover of Ed Sheeran’s Nancy Mulligan that I have linked here! I’m 90% I fucked up my Spotify Wrapped for this fic so I hope you enjoy!

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Well, I met him at Guy's in the second world war

And I was working on a soldier's ward

The scent of blood was thick in your nostrils as you dragged yourself out of the field hospital in Les Annais, Belgium. The Germans had been menacing your location for weeks, baiting your troops and sending fractions limping back into your capable hands.

You knew nothing of the tactics being used, very few did. You were here as a nurse, not as a tactician, not as anyone of note, save for being the longest serving nurse at the 51st Field Hospital. The others had bailed out as soon as they could, doing their duty but the gruesome fighting months earlier at the Battle of the Bulge had sent many fleeing.

It wasn’t like you could blame them.

You were still new, having joined up as soon as you could convince your father and while you were a month shy of 23, you had never experienced anything like this. Your grandmother had told your father off, reminding him that it was his own stubborn streak that raced through you.

But you were unprepared for everything you would have to do out here, hundreds of kilometers away from home, with the least amount of training that they could spare. At the beginning, you could only offer comfort to some of these men, being unable to save them from their wounds, as they cried for their mothers, wives, children, begging for the pain to end.

Sometimes - well, most times - these men were boys your age or younger. Lives that had only just begun were snuffed out in the most violent of ways and you were left to piece together your shattered heart day after day.

So you closed yourself off, choosing to help as many as you could. The conditions were brutal, the wounds you saw even more so. A year and a half ago, you didn’t know how it felt to hold down a screaming man so a doctor could try and save a septic leg. You were a shoulder to cry on, a smiling face despite the bleakness, and more often than not, an object of flirtation and admiration.

The sky was a miserable gray, like it always was. It seemed like the sky was trying to match the color of the tents scattered around the outside of the main camp, doing its best to hide you from the prying eyes of the German aerial patrols.

The Luftwaffe were always around. Luckily for you, they couldn’t aim for shit, but you couldn’t deny that the German movements had been far more frequent. Sometimes a young man crawled through the borders surrendering to the English and American forces and begging for help.

No one else would treat him, refusing to even get close to him.

You had chastised them all, reminding them of their promises to help those in need, and slowly you had gained some help in the care of these young men, though they were few and far between.

Shouts caught your attention, sending you racing through the muddy field back to the hospital. A group of soldiers, Americans by the sound of them, were calling for help and you would be a hypocrite if you didn’t help.

Hurrying through the door ahead of them, you saw a small group, maybe seven or so men approach. They were muddy, beaten and bruised, but your eyes fell upon the man being held up by his compatriots. “What happened?” You asked, quickly replacing a red headed man and half-carried the brunette towards the only open bed in the corner.

“A bunch of Krauts caught us by surprise, caught Rooster here with a few shots and some ass- pardon me ma’am, idiot jumped out of a tree and landed on top of him,” the man explained, helping you lay this Rooster on the bed.

You focused on the brunette’s bloody uniform, eyeballing the few bullet wounds in his arms, but you were the most concerned about the broken leg. It only took one infected wound and that limb would be gone. Not today, you thought. “Dot, I need the suture kit and a basin. You,” you stated, standing up to face the man standing next to you.

“Mulligan, ma’am,” he told you, standing up straighter. “Lewis Mulligan, US Navy.”

“Lewis, can you help me hold him down? I can’t stitch him up and hold him down at the same time.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Dot hurried over with the makeshift kit, placing it on the bed along with a basin of water. Unbuttoning his shirt, you found that two of the three bullet wounds still had the bullet in them and that the third had begun to clot against his shirt. Pulling the scissors from the pants pocket of your uniform and cutting the shirt away, you finally had a better view at what you were working with. “Fucking Krauts. Guess they must be really desperate to keep using shitty ammunition,” you remarked dryly, dipping a set of tweezers in a basin of cheap spirits.

Lewis didn’t say a word, clearly stunned by your foul language. “Ma’am?”

Sighing, you turned to face him. “Lewis, I need your help holding him down. The longer this takes, the bigger the risk of infection. I can’t do that if you are going to be shocked when I cuss and swear. Can you help me or not?”

He nodded, coming to stand on the other side of the unconscious man. Hands placed on his friend’s shoulder and hip, Lewis gave you a nod and you began.

The bullets were soft and slippery. They slid out of your tweezers more times than you could count, but you made it work, finally prying the two out of his shoulder and side. Lewis wasn’t looking at you, his face green by the time the last bullet clinked into the porcelain tray. “I can take it from here, Mulligan. Go back to your group, tell them…”

“His name is Bradley.”

You gave him a smile. “Tell them Bradley should be okay unless he does something stupid.”

He left you alone, perched on the side of Bradley’s bed, stitching him up. You saw his eyelashes flutter as you finished the last stitch and quickly stood up. If he lunged at you, you had to be standing. Enough men had grabbed at you when they woke up and you had quickly learned not to make that mistake again.

Too many bruises, too many sprains, too many punches thrown.

To your surprise, Bradley let out a groan and his eyes slowly blinked open. That groan turned into a hiss of pain as he tried to sit up. “Stay down,” you said gently, approaching slowly with your hands up. “You’re in a field hospital in Belgium.”

His eyes flicked to you, taking in your bloody uniform and trailing over your face. “The others?” He said in a panicked voice. “Where are the others?”

“Lewis and the redhead are outside, they carried you here. Seven of you came up to us, that’s all I know Bradley.”

A nod. “Thank you Ma’am.” Relief was written all over his face, in the way his eyes fell closed for a moment and his shoulders dropped.

“I just finished stitching up your chest, but I need to look at your leg. Can I do that?”

“Anything for you doll,” Bradley replied with a wink as he tried to lay down. But he winced and you were there, your bloodstained hands firmly holding his shoulders and neck while you guided him back down.

Never had I seen such beauty before

The moment that I saw ya

You moved quickly to treat his leg, finding that thankfully it was just a broken ankle and not somewhere further up. The number of men that had come in with a broken leg and left with one and a half was a number that you didn’t like to think about. It was far too high.

But Bradley wouldn’t be one of them and you couldn’t help but send up a prayer of thanks. The minute he’d opened his eyes, you’d been transfixed by the deep amber of them. A deep brown like the whiskey that was saved for special occasions and sparkled like a polished gun barrel or belt buckle. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen handsome men. Quite the opposite. You saw all kinds of men at their worst. Lots of them lookers, but you hadn’t felt a connection to one until him.

His gaze made it hard to focus as you fumbled with his boot lace, finally undoing it after what felt like hours. The smell still made you recoil a little, even after nearly a year in the nursing corps. Regardless, you still had to do your job. So you worked quickly, removing both boots and socks and compared both sides to assess where the break was.

A soft touch to his foot had him chuckle and you glanced up at him curiously. “Sorry, just ticklish, is all,” Bradley said sheepishly, hand coming up to rub at his mustache.

You gave him a smile before returning to work, splinting his ankle and cleaning the blood, sweat, and mud from his skin. “Better now?” You asked him, tucking a blanket over his body and helping him into a clean-ish shirt.

His eyes met yours and despite being in pain, Bradley shot you a small smile. “Better now that I can see my guardian angel.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard that one, sailor? More times than you’ve used that line on anyone in stockings.”

Bradley just grinned at your retreating form and let his eyes slip shut. The pain in his body was getting to be too much, but as he dozed off, he found himself listening to your voice as you reprimanded a soldier barely older than yourself for getting out of bed. You intrigued him, that’s all.

He said I was his yellow rose

And we got married wearing borrowed clothes

Weeks had passed since that first interaction and both you and Bradley had been writing to one another as often as you could spare. While in the hospital, you learned that he and his friends had been separated from their landing crew as they made their way inland from the coast. He’d been on Omaha Beach during what had become known as the “D-Day” landing in Normandy.

Not that he’d been allowed to tell you that, but he had anyways, trusting you implicitly. He’d had to leave after nearly a month under your care, but made a promise to come back.

You hoped he would, but neither of you knew what would take place.

The fighting had drawn closer to your hospital as the Allies fought for Belgium, liberating it in 14 days and wrestling it from German hands. There had been some celebration amongst your ranks, but your heart ached for Bradley, praying every night that he came back to you.

For now though, you had to settle for letters. Bradley’s smooth voice seemed to read every letter aloud to you, each word wrapped in that gentle, flirtatious tone he had used every day you had looked after him.

Doll. My darling Rosie, the most recent letter began. They usually started out with some endearment, God knows he had used enough of them as he tried to win you over despite your colleagues warning him that you wouldn’t fall.

You remember Lew? Well he told me that writing to you was a waste because I wouldn’t get any letters back, but I know you. You wrote me back like you always do. Means I’m going to have a nice big stack of letters waiting for me the minute the post catches up with us.

We’re still marching. It’s been hell on my ankle, but you patched me up nice and neat so I’m not too worried. At least the view is nice. I think you would like it where we camped tonight, crickets are chirping now as I write this and it’s peaceful. Kinda like those nights you spent sitting with me when we’d talk about everything and I would always get worried that you would get sick of me jawing and talking your ear off, but you never did. Spoiled me for a good listener. The boys here don’t talk much. Battle fatigue is crawling all over them and it is always quiet around these times cause no one says a word.

It’s awful lonely though, sweetheart. I miss your laugh, especially how you would have to cover it when it was the middle of the night. Closest thing to home I had in a while. I hope you can hear my voice in this letter because I know I hear yours every time. And I mean every word, Doll, I hope you know that.

When I come back, I want to take you somewhere nice. Get you all dressed up in something pretty but you would still be the most beautiful dame I ever saw if you came out in your uniform that I know you are wearing now. Maybe I’ll take you dancing like you talked about, holding you close for song after song and if I’m lucky we would be going steady after that. That kiss on the cheek you gave me before I left is just haunting me because I had a taste of the future, if you feel the same of course.

Call me a flirt, doll, but I’m just sweet on you. I’m doing everything in my power not to go AWOL and come all the way back to find you, but I hope this letter finds you well instead.

Thinking about you, my English rose.

Yours always,

Bradley.

Wiping a tear from your cheek, you carefully folded the letter back up and placed it with the others. They were all like that, yearning to be back here instead of wherever he was, thoughts of the future and he always, always, signed it off with “Thinking of you,” or lately “Yours always.” Every letter gave you hope and while you knew some of yours had likely been delayed, you always jumped up like you’d sat on a tack whenever the post arrived.

Dot had started teasing you the second that Bradley left, but one reminder of Lewis and she too was blushing. The two of you sat in your quiet fear, praying that neither one of you would get a letter from one of their unit mates saying that one or both was gone.

Your next letter went out the same day.

Hopefully, it would all be alright. So for now, you let yourself dream of dancing in Bradley’s arms, Glen Miller playing softly in the background as he held you close, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Hundreds of miles away, huddled under a thin blanket, Bradley pulled a creased letter from his pocket, finally having the chance to read it. As the letter slid out of the envelope, a sweet smell burst free and filled his nostrils. He recognized your perfume, the scent having filled him with joy every moment he spent by your side as he recovered.

Shifting a little and adjusting the blanket, he opened it up, catching a second page that tried to escape in the sudden breeze. Bradley moved his lantern over and began reading your tight script that had his heart skipping a beat each time he saw it fill a page.

Bradley,

I received another letter from you today and I thought I had best get writing so I don’t miss the post truck. I do remember Lewis. Hopefully he remembers Dot because she is patiently waiting for a response to her letter. I don’t think it matters, the sentiment is still the same and I would rather see you at the end of this harrowing ordeal than have you replay thoughts on paper.

I had been meaning to ask about your ankle. If it ever gives way, splint it like I showed you. I don’t want you to break it again, even if that would mean you have to come back to me. But for the moment, I am glad for your letters. They make me feel closer to you. Describe the view for me, please. I see nothing but muddy fields, canvas walls, and wounded men. Is it raining a lot on your march? I know your boots were ruined when you were brought here. Did you ever find new ones? He had, but the source of them sent his stomach twisting in knots. Pulling boots off a man killed in battle felt savage, like they didn’t matter as a person.

I miss our talks as well. I learned so much about you so quickly and I feel like I know everything about you. I miss the snort you make when you laugh, especially when I told you that the other nurses called me Rosie because I was the only English nurse here. I was worried you would stop breathing some nights the way you clutched your chest as you laughed like you had never heard anything so funny. But I would give anything to see your smile, the one where it reaches your eyes and it seems you swell up with joy. I know there isn’t much time for smiles now but if I could just give you one of mine, I would.

Send my love to the boys with you. War is hard enough without having to deal with loneliness at the same time and you all are in my thoughts and prayers. I miss you terribly and find myself daydreaming of you every spare moment I have, which is not often anymore, but I drift off to sleep with your past letters in my hands and your words in my mind.

Your confessions for after this war sound like heaven. I hadn’t let myself dream too long about what will become of us. We have both heard the stories of wartime romances often enough to know how precarious they can be, but if you have hope, dearest, then so do I. I’ll wear my best dress and you in your uniform, we will be the best dressed pair at the dance hall. Nothing sounds better than dancing close with you. I don’t care how presumptuous it is, the way my heart yearns for your nearness, I can give my answer to your most secret hopes without hesitation.

If you asked, dearest, I would be yours in a heartbeat. So long as you are mine as well. Bradley breathed out a laugh, trying not to wake his comrades. He had been kicking himself ever since he had sent that letter, hoping you felt the same and by the grace of God, you did. I may be English but we aren’t always prim and proper when angered. I could and would write a million pages with barely any thought, but the truck is waiting for me, so I must end this letter here. I hope my words keep you warm in this autumn weather and please, if you can, come back to me.

Stay safe, dearest.

Your Rose

The letter crinkled in his grip as Bradley bit back a wide grin. You were okay. You wanted to go steady. You cared for him. Fuck the war, he though. His doll was waiting for him back in Belgium and not for the first time, he hoped that the war would end for purely selfish reasons. You were waiting and his mama had raised a good boy who never left a woman waiting, he wasn’t going to start now.

The radio in the small hospital crackled as the BBC broadcast announced Germany’s surrender as Russian troops poured into Berlin. Cheers went up amongst the nurses and the men they were caring for, but you knew that the casualties were high on both sides. The United States still fought with Japan in the Pacific, chasing them back towards their island, and you knew that the fighting would go on for a long time.

The only thing? You hadn’t heard from Bradley in months, not since March of this year; 1945. It was now May.

The worry in you grew every day, trying and failing to hide it from Dot and the others around you. It hadn’t affected your work, but it affected nearly everything else. You were hardly sleeping, rereading his letters so often you had them memorized. “Thinking of you” was written in his neat handwriting against the back of your eyelids, and everytime you blinked, you thought of him.

A few days went by since that monumental announcement of the war’s end and some fighting was still happening but Germany’s surrender had a lot of Nazi sympathizers fleeing like rats. But world leaders were acting quickly and you knew that while it would be some time before you would return home to England, it would also not be enough time for Bradley to come back to you here in Les Annais.

So, like always, you went to work. The soldiers around you were still flirtatious, some even outright admitting that they were sweet on you, but you politely told them that you were waiting for your man to come back to you, and that while you were flattered, you just couldn’t.

Sweet smile after sweet smile. Bed bath after bed bath. Infected wound after infected wound. And still, no Bradley.

Then you heard your name shouted from outside. You had been packing your things, having received your letter to head back home, when Dot yelled so loudly you thought a hoard of Nazis were marching toward you. Racing outside dressed in your one non-uniform dress, you saw a Jeep full of men pull up. They too were yelling, and when you ran up, you saw a familiar face not half a meter away.

He was covered in dirt and grime, his hair longer than you had seen and his cheeks were covered in stubble like he hadn’t shaved in a few days, but it was still your Bradley in every way that mattered. “Bradley…” you breathed, coming to a stand-still with your hands over your mouth. You stood stock still, your heart nearly beating out of your chest as you took him in disbelief. “You’re safe…”

“Hey doll,” the rasp in his tone gave you shivers as you met his eyes. They were still the same color as the whiskey you all had drank the night the war was declared over, the same sparkle twinkling like the stars as he took you in. “Look at you. You look beautiful.” Bradley clambered over Simon, nearly elbowing him in the face in his haste to get out of the Jeep. “Prettiest picture I ever saw.

You blushed, ducking your head a little at his compliment. Bradley’s heart soared as he took you in, marveling at how his imagination had been unable to capture the picture perfect moment of you in that dress. You had lived in his thoughts for months, each letter sending pangs of loneliness through him as each moment without you passed. Now, standing in front of you, your hair curled and dressed like a million bucks, Bradley felt his love for you grow infinitely larger.

“You…” you began, looking up at him, your eyes wide in shock. “You came back, sailor.”

“‘Course I did. What kinda man would I be if I left my best girl waiting.”

Dot and the others were still watching intently, keen on seeing what happened when you both finally let your resolve snap. “Come on Rosie! Give your man a kiss!” Lewis hollered from where he stood with Dot in his arms. “He’s only been dreamin’ about this since forever!”

“Mulligan, I swear to God, shut your fucking yap for one minute,” Bradley yelled back, shifting his focus from you to his friend. “Sorry doll, Dot, shouldn’t have said those words with you around. Can you forgive me?”

Shooting Dot a wink, you caught his hand. “If you kiss me hard enough, sailor, I just might forget the whole thing.” You weren’t sure where the boldness came from, but it was worth it when Bradley’s face lit up.

“Is that right?” He said in a low voice. “Just one kiss?”

You shrugged as your gaze fell from his amber eyes to his lips and back again. “I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?”

That was all it took because next you knew, Bradley had picked you up in his arms and let his lips fall against yours, kissing you so soundly your breath left you in a rush. His hands around your waist held you so securely you didn’t fear falling. Your own hands cradled his face, subconsciously brushing away the tears that fell from his eyes.

He set you back on your feet, but his hands didn’t leave your hips. “So, did you forget about it yet?”

Smiling cheekily back at him, you replied “Forget what?” He chuckled and you let your palms slide down his neck to rest on his chest over his heart. “All that being said, dearest, I leave today. And I know you aren’t down yet.”

“We got separated from the Navy landing crew, doll. Kramer sent a telegram to the high ups and they are sending us on leave for a little while. Especially since we weren’t supposed to be in Berlin,” Bradley told you, a big hand running up and down your back. “So as long as I get to port at a reasonable time, I’m still doing my duty.”

“And when is that, Bradley?” Toying with his jacket, you found yourself chewing on your lip in thought.

“Hey.” His gentle tone had you looking up at his face that was filled with compassion. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’ve got it in writing and up here,” Bradley told you, tapping his temple. “My mama always said I had a mind like a steel trap.”

You leaned up onto your tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “I’m still going to worry, Bradley. I don’t know how not to. But I trust you. If you say you have it, then you do.”

Bradley leaned down to kiss you again, this time the fierceness of the gesture had you gasping against his mouth. “God I love you.”

The world stood still as you looked up at him. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course, Rosie. Unless you have some other beau running around London that I don’t know about.” He paused, looking down at you. “Wait, you don’t have a beau waiting on you, do you?”

Looking shocked, you shook your head. “No. No, I don’t. My sister was the looker of the two of us.”

By now, Lewis and Dot had run off somewhere and the other men traveling with Bradley had scattered throughout the camp offering help to the pretty young nurses still there.

The two of you were alone.

“Come on,” you said, tugging him towards your tent. “I have something to show you.”

“You could lead me off a cliff, Rosie and I’d follow you happily,” Bradley chirped, relishing in the pretty blush that dusted itself across your face. His body hurt from sleeping sitting up, he hadn’t had a shower and probably smelled terrible, yet even just being near him flustered you to no end.

And he loved it. Maybe not as much as he loved you, but how could he deny you? Your grip on his hand tightened as you pulled him to you, your other hand coming to rest on his jaw. “I didn’t want to do this in public, but I’ve been daydreaming about you kissing me like I’m all you have ever wanted, Bradley.”

The words raced through him, excitement building as he let you guide his face to yours. The first gentle touch of your lips to his had him smiling broadly, and he knew that you were smiling just as hard by the way you pulled back just a little. The next attempt went similarly; the two of you too giddy in the other’s nearness to kiss the other properly.

But he made it work, catching your chin and kissing you soundly. The gasp that fell past your lips gave him an opening and he took it, slipping his tongue past your lips.

Bradley had anticipated some kind of resistance, the feeling probably new to you, but he found none as he continued to kiss you like you were the oxygen he needed to breathe. If anything, you brought in your own fierceness to the gesture, your tongue tangling with his.

When you finally pulled back, cursing your need to breathe real air and not just Bradley’s closeness, you found that his eyes were still screwed shut. “Pinch me,” he breathed out. “This has to be a dream.”

“This is real, dearest,” you replied with a giggle. “Would I lie to you?”

“You promise?” The tone of his voice seemed so young to your ears, reminding you that for all your 25 years, and his 27, he was still too young to have seen everything he likely had seen.

“Of course.”

His eyes fluttered open, shining brightly with unshed tears. “Thank God. I don’t know what I would do if I had imagined you.”

“I’d say that you have a very vivid imagination then, dearest,” you replied softly, turning his face back to yours. When he’d looked away, you didn’t know, but you loved the sight of those warm eyes looking down on you and you would do anything to keep them in your life. “Besides, where would I go then? If I weren’t real, as you say.” Your fingers ran along the back of his neck, gently playing with the short curls. That was something else you hadn’t noticed until now; the natural curls that had emerged once his hair had a little length.

“Marry me.”

You froze, shock filling you from head to toe. “I beg your pardon?”

“Marry me, Rosie. I don’t have a ring, hell, I don’t even know if I’m going to have a home when I get back stateside.” The words poured out in a rush, but the emotion in his tone was palpable. This wasn’t just a wartime distraction to him. “All I know is that if I don’t tie you to me, if I don’t make every effort to keep you near, I’ll regret it forever doll.” Bradley’s eyes held nothing but sincerity, truth seeping from every pore as he held you, his big hands pressing you to him.

A deep sigh left your lips, the silence thundering in Bradley’s ears as he waited. You glanced up at him, your eyes misty with tears. “If I say yes,” you began, swallowing thickly. “If I say yes Bradley, you don’t get to leave because this is hard. I would be your wife, and you my husband. We do this together or not at all.” Tears had begun falling and you didn’t know if this was an accumulation of emotion from finally having him close or if it was fear. Fear of being wed and left in a heartbeat.

“Rosie, I would find the Chaplain now if it meant that I could spend the rest of my life with you. I would march to the Pacific now to end this war if it meant I could marry you faster. I fought for us just as much as I fought for my country and my mama would come down from Heaven like a shot if I even so much as thought about leaving you behind.” Bradley had ducked his head down, holding your teary eyes with his own. In the growing darkness, you could barely make out the ring of his honey-coloured iris, but you knew that he meant what he said.

How could he not?

“So, doll. What do ya say, hmm? Feel like being Mrs. Rosie Bradshaw?” The usual humor in his tone returned when he saw the meaning behind his words sink in. You understood him and trusted him deeply, after all he’d come back, hadn’t he? In what world would he do all of this and not mean it, not swear by it? Bradley had taken a step to close the distance between you both for the rest of time, pulled his heart out of his chest and held it out to you.

You met him halfway. “I’ve certainly been called worse, Mr. Bradshaw,” you teased gently, as you toyed with the collar of his jacket. “What makes you think I’ll come running when you call that name?”

“Because I’ll come running if you promise to call me that everyday, Rosie doll.” A giggle broke loose from your chest and the matching smile seemed to split your face in two as you watched Bradley’s face light up once he heard your reaction to yet another sweet name he could drop. ��You never did answer my question, doll. Are you gonna leave me standing out in the cold like some sort o’ schmuck or are you gonna let me in to get all the good lovin’ my weary bones need?”

You slapped his chest, cheeks burning under his attention. “My mother raised me to never let a man starve nor grow cold, therefore I believe I ought to marry you, dearest. How else am I to go on living when I have a very handsome sailor practically begging for my hand?” You were still smiling broadly and as you watched your words get processed.

“Yeah?”

“Of course.”

Bradley let out a whoop of joy, grabbing you suddenly before picking you up and twirling you around the yard. “Well dammit all! Rosie said yes!”

Cheers broke out from around the hospital. Nurses and the G.I.s were clapping and whistling in celebration that only got louder when you brought your hands to his face and kissed him so hard you could feel your lips bruise from trying to pour every ounce of feeling into it. “God, I love you,” you mumbled against his lips.

Setting you back on your feet, Bradley dipped you over a strong arm, bringing you into another sweet kiss that had you wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself as close as you could to his chest. “So,” Bradley mumbled. “When I find my mama’s ring, it’s yours. She would have loved you, Rosie. My pop too.”

You leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his nose. “I’m certain that they’re very proud of you, Bradley.” The softness of your tone combined with the sincerity filling every word was a shot straight to his heart. Tears sprouted in his eyes and Bradley brought you back up, hugging you tightly.

“I really lucked out, didn’t I? Meeting the most perfect girl this side of the Atlantic.”

A week later, you married Bradley William Edward Bradshaw in a simple ceremony at a small chapel outside London. His mother’s simple diamond and gold ring had slipped into your finger on the voyage across the English Channel while you had been staring out at the ocean around you.

You had scarcely noticed it at first, but when your eyes fell upon it for the first time, you swore that your heart had nearly fallen into your shoes at the sight. Bradley had laughed at your reaction, pulling you close and wrapping you in his arms for the remainder of the journey, all the while watching you trail your eyes over your hand time and time again.

It was all he could do not to press a kiss to your left hand every time he saw the ring catch the light, which was often, especially by lantern and lamp light.

Needless to say, the pair of you were very happy, and while Bradley had been tapped for deployment into the Pacific theater, his ship had only just made port somewhere in Spain before the US detonation of their super weapons in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The Japanese emperor had surrendered almost at once and from your position in London, you couldn’t blame them. You had always hated the unnecessary violence, the casualties just because and this was no different. The innocent civilians hadn’t needed to die in such a way as they had, though you couldn’t see a way of changing the course of the war.

But Bradley was safe and on his way home to you. In the end, you couldn’t help those affected by the tragedy any more than you had during the war in Europe. You would be trying to wrap a wound made by a cannonball with a tiny sliver of fabric, so you set about waiting for him to come back to you.

Now though, you needn’t worry as much. You were Mrs. Bradley Bradshaw and he had made many a promise yet never broken a single one. So the mere sight of his form on the dock eased it all.

Today started the rest of your life.

We got eight children now growing old

Five sons and three daughters

She and I went on the run

Don't care about religion

I'm gonna marry the woman I love

Down by the Wexford border

She was Nancy Mulligan

And I was William Sheeran

She took my name and then we were one

Down by the Wexford border

===

A/N: So, I hope your heart has a big ass cavity in it and that you enjoyed the cotton candy level of fluff that I just threw at you! Big thank you to @startrekfangirl2233 for being the best beta reader ever and @sarahsmi13s, I’m sorry for making you sob when I was sharing snippets

Read Roo and Rosie’s Christmas fic here!

Tagging: @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @horseshoegirl @roosterforme @@eli2447 @nobody7102 @gigisimsonmars @dcyllom @bobgasm @multifandomlover4life @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls

#fern writes #Ring Around My Rosie #wwii au #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #American Sailor Bradley X English Nurse reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 6 months

Note

Hello!! I love your Carmy fics and (if you are still taking requests) I would love to see anything fluffy with him! Maybe like a late night up with him or literally anything!

This is completely different. It's giving more like first time meeting slash cute cuteness but I hope it's still something...

Chicago rain

Carmen wasn't a lady man. The anxiety that crippled him made any interaction awkward and robot-like at times. Hence why he practically always avoided any outing. Too many stimulations. Too little capacity in his brain to deal with it all.

But then you had walked into the Bear one day. The weather in Chicago was brutal. The wet spell was without doubt trying to drown the city at this point. Carmy was busy in the kitchen. It was past the breakfast rush but still a good chunk of time till the madness of lunchtime hit. So everything seemed slow. The pre-prep that was done last night allowed everyone to take a needed breather. Carmen heard voices from the front. Surprisingly Richie's voice didn't sound bitchy. A laughter echoed and the door to the kitchen quickly opened.

"I need one of our best sellers and someone to start a big cup of tea", Carmy frowned slightly, no one ordered tea here. "Cousin, do we have towels without holes in them?", Richie raked through the drawers, making a mess of a somewhat organized place. "Man put that back as it was, I'll grab one for the back", Carmen huffed as he walked towards his office. "Bring it out front", Richie called from behind him.

If only he had known. If only he had known that his heart was going to leap out of his chest the moment he brought that stupid tower out, he would have done a double take. Here you were, drenched to the last fiber of your skin. Shivering so hard Carmen could practically feel his own teeth aching from the friction. "Shit", he muttered under his breath, your big eyes darted up to meet him. You two stilled a bit yet your composure came back way quicker. "Sorry, I'll clean the floor, I know I left quite a...", but your rant was cut with Carmen stepping forward as he wrapped the towel around your shoulders. "Forget about it", he said, "It's nothing, Richie will take care of it".

Your cold fingers brushed over Carmen's warm hands and he practically let out a hiss at how cold you felt. His brain was working so fast that he didn't even realize it as he said, "Come over to the back. I have spare clothes you can change into". You looked back at him, shaking your head, "It's all okay, I'll grab a cup and will head out", you pointed to the absolute miserable weather outside. You both looked at it for a while before you huffed, "Yeah, I probably won't go out...", your voice died down. "Then, after you", Carmen gestured towards the kitchen and this time you didn't fight it.

You were pretty much drowning in Carmen's hoodie but the warmth of it was much appreciated. Carmen as you had learned along the way had prepared a full three-course meal. Pouring second of the soup. "My brother used to say that it warmed both the body and the soul", you smiled at that, especially when Carmen had sat to eat beside you. You watched him work after that. The rush of the kitchen. The shouting. The clacking of the pans. The smells. It all felt like a dance of some sort. A rhythm that was so easy to get lost in. You watched it till your eyes grew heavy and sleep pulled you in.

Carmen had felt your eyes on him all night. But oddly enough they didn't make him feel uneasy. Quite the opposite. He wanted to carry himself higher. Show off the place. The things he did best. By the time he pulled enough courage to look back at you, he had found you sleeping with your head resting on his office desk. Even in the midst of the chaos he had stepped out. Quickly whipping his damp hands before he took a proper look at you.

Never had Carmen seen a girl so pretty in his life. Rarely did any girl awaken any reaction in him. But there was something about you. Something that called out to him. Carmen gently ran his hand up and down your arm, making you flinch as you quickly sat up. Nearly falling over with the chair.

"God, sorry, fuck", you steadied yourself, Carmen's hand falling over your shoulders. He met your tired eyes, smiling softly, "Why don't you lay down", he nodded towards the little couch. It wasn't anything fancy, but it did the job. "No, I've caused too much trouble already", you muttered but Carmen shook his head. "Nap for a bit, we should close in a couple of hours. I'll drive you home then", he offered, getting drawn in by your eyes once more. You quickly tucked your hair behind your ear, "I will never repay you for all of this", you mumbled. Carmen shrugged his shoulders, suddenly feeling bold, "Have dinner with me sometime. If you want, of course... you can say no. I would understand and it's...", he ranted on. You reached to touch his hand and his movements stalled, "I'd like that", you muttered, feeling your cheeks growing crimson. Carmy only nodded before once again motioning you towards the sofa.

You followed his lead, tucking your legs towards your chest for more warmth. Carmen quickly looked around, reaching for his big blazer as he carefully draped it over your frame. You smiled up at him and he was quick to follow your lead especially when a yawn slipped past your lips. He watched you for a moment. Tucking the image of you deep into his brain before he slowly turned around, carefully closing the door behind him as the chaos of the kitchen sucked him right back into action. Yet the feeling of something good looming right behind these closed doors didn't leave him all evening long.

#carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #the bear imagine #the bear x reader

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throwaway-yandere · 2 years

Text

Worksheets (Yandere!Alhaitham/Reader)

A/n: What's this, Ansy? Planning on two Alhaitham fics??? Are you not loyal to Dain or Ayat– Speak not, my comrade. Don't tell me that the new Archon Quest wasn't delectable lmao. Also, today was the first time I got a tip, and I??? I've never known happiness quite like that. I'm crying. I will remember you forever, "mommy milkers", I'll dedicate this fic to you ;;-;; (I'm pretty sure I know who you are "*chomp* *chomp*" but that name is entertaining lmao.) On another note, kinda loved how this fic turned out and this is prolly the closest thing I'll ever write to a "lime" lmao.

Unreliable Synopsis: (Student!Alhaitham era) Studying 20 languages is quite an exhausting task. It's a great thing Alhaitham is eager to help his "study buddy".

Cw: yandere themes, implied drugging and non/dubcon. Please don't read this if you're sensitive to the content mentioned. Your mental health matters.

—--------

Alhaitham, like you, is not the type to strike up an amusing discussion while he has a book in his hands. So he laid down his book and decided to take yours as well.

As Akademiya students, you are both bound by a single, exhausting clearance requirement: master 20 languages before graduation. So far, you think you're passable at best on writing romanized Inazuman script and laughable at worst on pronouncing proper Liyue intonations. You can already count yourself as one of the many students that won't see the light of employment next year, but Alhaitham won't let you sulk so readily.

"Time's up. You're done, right?"

He slid the textbook off the table and began flipping through your work.

You didn't reply. Instead, you felt the weight of your head on both palms. It's not that you're unable to reply. You just don't want to admit how illiterate you are in foreign linguistics.

"(Y/n), look at me when I'm speaking."

"I accept my fate." You muttered, soundly defeated. And then, you let yourself rest on the table. "Here lies (Y/n) (L/n). May they finally learn how to pronounce 印 properly in the afterlife."

Alhaitham rolled his eyes.

"Should I help send you off to Aaru Village? Want a proper goodbye from your old study buddy?"

"That would be quite nice, yes."

"Sure. I'll be happy to do that." He stopped flipping through the pages and focused all his attention on you. "If you started acting hysterical and destructive. But you're not. You're just miserable and reserved."

"Thanks for that wonderful assessment, Professor Alhaitham. I'm sure studying neurophilosophy helped you come up with that conclusion. Oh, your brilliance never ceases to surprise me!"

Alhaitham chuckled. His chuckles are almost always short-lived and 100% condescending.

"(Y/n), language is simply not your forte. But you do wonders in mathematics since we are almost on the same level."

You glared, finally meeting his gaze.

"Must you always brag about yourself whenever you try to cheer me up?"

"Hmm?"

"Lord Kusanali– don't tell me you haven't noticed that about yourself…"

He lightly smacked your head with your textbook. You winced, exaggerating your pain.

"Our conversation isn't about me, it's you. Now, enlighten me, how on earth did you manage to mistake Snezhnayan scripts in a Liyue assignment?"

"E-Eh?!"

You snatched your book back.

"Holy shit. You're right."

You may not like beer, the first time you drank one it tasted funny, but at that moment you decided that once exams are over you're going to get completely inebriated.

Alhaitham watched you reread your work and fondly memorized the way your eyebrows knitted and your eyes skimming through the pages. Your fingers gripped that book as if your life depended on it. That might as well be true knowing your passion for your degree, but he simply wished you will spare part of that zeal for him.

He used to study alone until you showed up. Freshman year was brutal and unkind, but when you insisted on becoming his partner the world had taken on a vibrant hue. Alhaitham never asked for a partner, but your proposal was enticing that he had to say yes. He lied and said he merely wanted to see where this would lead him before, but now he is proud to say he did not regret that decision. It's a shame that your persuasive techniques do not work well with complex Liyue scripts, if they did you would've aced these tests.

"Ugghhh... I hope I get buried raw so I wouldn't have to worry about funeral expenses too..."

Alhaitham did not mind that he's helping you work on your quote-unquote "bane of existence." Students at the Akademiya sometimes fear group work, but he's not one of them. He hopes for one in each subject should it entail that you'll be beside him. Should the assignment be on a frost-prickling mountain, he still wouldn't hesitate to tag along if it meant sharing his cloak and warmth with you. Alhaitham doubts he cares about any other factors. As a friend and intellectual collaborator, you've become irreplaceable.

That's why he won't let you fall behind.

"Chin up." He patted your head like you would a cat.

"H-Huh?"

"I said chin up," Alhaitham spoke, uncharacteristically soft. "I'll be right here beside you until we graduate."

You smiled, not at all comforted but grateful for the gesture. You sat up straight. "Thanks, Haitham."

When given the option to either comfort or critique, Alhaitham doesn't hesitate to choose the latter. This small moment made you happy. Back then, he used to be rather cold and skilled at getting you off his life. You subconsciously began to grin. Your friend Lisa was right, he softens when he's with you–

"Which is why I'll be sending you additional practice sheets for you to work on," Alhaitham added bluntly, his words dropping like a hammer. "I'm not letting you play games until you perfect writing these scripts."

Your eyes stared coldly back at him.

Nevermind. Forget it. He's the same as he had always been.

"Way to ruin the moment, Future Grand Scribe."

—----

Three days have passed and it's the last day of your dreaded linguistics exams.

Well, that sounds more significant than what it is. It's the last day of ALHAITHAM'S MOCK EXAMS, which is what it actually is, but you can't help but feel nervous as you would in a real graded performance. He takes practice exercises and their punishments very seriously. Last time was just a surprise quiz, so the intensity differed greatly.

Alhaitham took a seat at an adjacent table. He was amusingly dressed in a pair of glasses and an Akademiya professor uniform. You'd mock him for believing in you when you claimed you wanted the exam to be as immersive as possible, but his execution is far too effective for your liking. For crying out loud, he even received the alchemy professor's signed permission to borrow his room!

"For your last test, you need to translate this Liyue text back to Sumeru scripts. I'll give you… 30 minutes for this." He said, adjusting his timer.

Alhaitham cast a sidelong glance at you, pretending not to see your apprehension. His fingers lingered over the reset and split buttons.

"Are you ready?"

You felt your palms beginning to sweat.

"S-Sure."

He didn't care what your answer was– no professor would ever wait for a student. Alhaitham flipped the test paper to its front page.

"Timer starts now."

Nervously, you picked up your pen and paper and started reading. Alhaitham left the timer on top of the table and went back to drinking his cup.

Alright, here we go.

Decoding it was simple, at first. The start felt like a canned script for a traditional romantic light novel. You translated the messages back to your native tongue. Then, things started to become a bit complicated.

'I've decided to be entirely honest and truthful in this letter, so I'll start from the very beginning. I used to despise you.'

Your nose scrunched, amused. What an introduction. You pointed your pen in his direction.

"Is our friendship over, Haitham?"

He glared. "Quit talking. 29 minutes and 38 seconds–"

"Alright, alright. Geez."

'But you were so relentless that I couldn't help but cave in. Who wouldn't? You're personable and you share my beliefs about research autonomy. It's difficult to find someone who is an expert at both. You'd know that best.'

'It's pitiful that I can't handle the notion of losing you once this is finished. Many people do not consider me to be empathic and they frequently misinterpret my lack of emotional expression as a lack of empathy. But you've always been so accepting of me.'

'It's a shame that you left me when morning came. I've never felt solitude quite like that wake-up call.'

You grimaced as you continued to read the rest of the paragraphs. Whoever wrote this must be seriously lovelorn and obsessed because they wrote as if they've hopelessly known that their affections will remain unreciprocated beyond half a decade.

The author went on to describe how they had watched their beloved enjoy their life blissfully ignorant of the misery they had caused him. Given that Alhaitham creates everything by hand, the stark contrast between the material and his precise letterings does nothing to express the writer's frantic confession.

'I can't get the thought of you out of my mind. It's exhilarating. I've never been this stimulated before I met you.'

'I need you, even after our partnership is over.'

You can't get over how, in Alhaitham's fine handwriting, the author gradually spiraled from unrequited love to an obsession that can't be helped.

'You have qualities that no one else possesses. Traits that I want in a lifelong companion. You taught me things I didn't know I wanted for myself. And you are on top of that list.'

'As you're probably aware, you do have a guardian angel. I sometimes answer your assignments for you. Every morning, I pay for your coffee and leave sticky notes in case you overlook your deadlines. These are all unpaid acts of kindness, but they make me feel like I'm laying a better foundation for a relationship with you.'

'I admit, I don't mind following you around like an affectionate dog every now and then. Your schedule is predictable. You even handed me a duplicate with your new phone number on it. It's both pleasant and difficult for me to watch you from a distance, but what else can I do? Everyone knows I'm rather socially inept for this to play out as smoothly as I'd hope so I had to stoop to this method.'

'At least I learned not to break doors this time."

'Once we both graduate, I might not be able to see you again in my life. We will no longer work together as much as we did before. I wouldn't be able to see you laugh or make excuses just to touch you. I like being near you. Even if you consider me as a one-night stand. Even if you consider me as your biggest mistake.'

You looked at Alhaitham with a face that ridiculed his choice of picking this creepy excerpt. He didn't so much as move and continued sitting at the table, staring at you robotically calm.

You hope this Liyue person has already been apprehended by the Millelith.

You resumed deciphering after deciding to trust whatever bizarre letter Alhaitham had assigned to you. You were beginning to feel sorry for the person Alhaitham obtained the love letter from and its intended recipient... You wouldn't be astonished if Alhaitham pulled this letter from the hands of a mad scholar and deemed it a worthy linguistics exercise.

'You're mine and you will learn to love me. I've already decided on that.'

'I'm sure that declaration is bound to scare you, but I genuinely meant it. I can understand if you react violently. I wouldn't hate you if you tried to contact the authorities, but just know that eremites are useless against me.'

You scowled. Perhaps your study companion wanted you to be wholly aware that translating is not an easy task. If so, you're impressed by his dedication. You'd never read a letter like this again.

Then it got worse.

'That's why I need to take control again.'

'I need you to open your eyes– I need you to know that without me, you cannot survive in a world beyond academics.'

'You need me just as much as I need you, too.'

'So when will you invite me back to Dorm 569?'

You stopped reading and you felt the clip of your pen snap.

Slowly, you turned the paper to its back. Your eyes were glued to the table, unable to look at your study partner's face.

"Alhaitham…" You laughed sheepishly. "Do… Do you have to go above and beyond writing such a… personal sounding example? You know, the Akademiya doesn't allow plagiarism—especially when it's a creepy love letter."

Being batch-mates with Alhaitham, you're well aware of his eccentricities. And being batch-mates with you helps him pretend that there's nothing creepy about knowing a few minor details too.

But this is… is not one of them.

Alhaitham placed his mug down and began to peek through your worksheets behind you.

"Five minutes left, I'm guessing you're on the last paragraph?" He spoke as if your concerns were nonexistent.

"Of course I'm on the damn last paragraph!!!"

You immediately covered your mouth, looking around the room if you had disturbed others, before being staunchly reminded that you are alone. With him.

It's like reading a horror story at home alone on the weekends. The setting is safe, you trust Alhaitham, but your heart is restless.

Dorm 569.

It's your dorm number but it's not an innocent suggestion if– when it comes from him. The implication was sinister and cruel. There is a historical context that vastly changes the flow of this conversation. A context that you don't want to address plainly.

"This is just a joke, right?" You gulped dryly. Despite your treacherous nerves, you made a joke. "You're not stalking me, are you?"

He raised an eyebrow.

Alhaitham steadily reduced the gap between you two by holding your chair with both hands. Before you could realize it, he had already closed off all means of escape. You felt his breathing brush against you. Every inch of your body begged for a sprint as his green-orange eyes peered through your soul, calculating as they had always been.

You need to leave.

"You're going to brush off the rest of what you've read and focus on such a minor detail? You're not going to ask if I have feelings for you like a normal person?"

His breath smelled like coffee.

"I would if this fucking letter sounded anywhere close to normal!" You yell-whispered.

You combed your hair back with your fingers, feeling your entire body shaken by his implied agreement.

"Shit, Alhaitham… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell your ears out– I'm just a bit…" You laughed, sinking your weight on the chair's cross rail but he inched closer, maintaining the distance you had before. "Moved? I'm so bad at vocab, is that the word? Yeah, moved by that love letter, I suppose."

"Don't be sarcastic. You're frightened."

You scoffed.

"D-Duh, making jokes is a coping mechanism. Something you wouldn't relate to, I know."

He didn't move from his position.

You breathed in sharply. "What?"

"You still haven't asked."

"Asked what?"

"If I like you romantically."

"W-Well, you still haven't answered me either."

"Answered what?"

"... Is it true? Are you stalking me?"

He did not hesitate to answer. "In a sense, yes."

What…?

Your stomach flipped at his nonchalant reply. He tilted your chin up. The short distance between you two began to diminish as you felt Alhaitham's hair against your cheek.

"How else would I know your dorm number if I didn't, right?"

You slapped his hand away. "You know what I meant. This isn't funny at all. Please answer me seriously."

"I thought you think of me as a guardian angel. You wanted the truth and I gave you my thoughts." Alhaitham pressed.

You don't want to believe it.

You don't want to acknowledge that it was someone you trusted who forced you to bed.

"I am stalking you. Tell me– who else would've fucked you senseless that night? Go on, tell me, (Y/n)."

But you knew deep down that it was him.

You shoved him off, but he was stronger than you are. You've seen him in action, he did not lie when fighting eremites are child's play to him. You're his study partner, and you, unfortunately, know him best as he stated in that letter.

Dorm 569. That night was a blur and you've changed rooms since then. Another student, Soraya, began living in your old room. You couldn't bear to visit and see how the freshman was doing.

You never actively seek parties, and Alhaitham was the same. But one night, you both decided to finally experience the infamous "college life" by attending one. Your brain refused to unfold everything that transpired. Pieces of your conversations occasionally resurface, but they're all mundane yet bitter. Retracing your steps had a major discrepancy from drinking beer to waking up in your dorm with a broken door.

Nothing explained why your study partner was naked beside you, lovingly caressing your hair.

"Were you fantasizing about another man? One of our seniors, perhaps? Are you one of those people who get off on unbalanced relationship dynamics?"

There was no explanation as to why you woke up screaming.

And there were no words spoken about it the next time you bumped into each other.

He never mentioned it again.

And you foolishly thought that was the end of it.

"S-Stop…"

"If not our old seniors… Was it our Ethics professor?"

Your heart dropped.

Alhaitham laughed. His usually calm green-orange eyes that soothed you swirled with what you assumed was jealousy and self-loathing. Two emotions you have not seen before, or at least, did not acknowledge.

You both knew you were scared to face reality. But he doesn't want to play these mind games any longer. Alhaitham already decided on it. You will recall everything.

His grip on your chin tightened.

"It's him, correct? I won't forget the way you moaned 'Sir' when I pulled your hair. If I wasn't confident, I wouldn't be wearing this stupid pair of glasses and uniform just to woo you."

You could no longer speak. Alhaitham took it as permission to do anything he wants with you. Just like that night.

His lengthy fingers pinched your inner thigh.

"Then again, I don't think I can keep acting like him. Spiking a drink would be in his list of unforgivable actions I'm sure."

You trembled.

"Still won't answer, (Y/n)? Or would you prefer I call you Mx. (L/n)?"

Alhaitham scoffed, grinning.

"You don't have to answer. We have the classroom all to ourselves to test that hypothesis."

#yandere al haitham #yandere alhaitham #yandere al haitham x reader #yandere alhaitham x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere fanfiction #yandere oneshot #yandere genshin imagines #yandere male #tag: w - alhaitham #alhaitham #technically aint? but oh well lol #idk what tumblr wants from me #ansy-writes

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sashi-ya · 1 year

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𝕾𝖊𝖗𝖛𝖊 𝕸𝖊 +18. dom! Kuchiki Byakuya x F!reader

✦ requested by anon for the free requests ➜ Sashi! Hi! I was thinking you might write some nsfw dom Byakuya with female she/her reader. thank you 💞💟 ➜ Well of course I can! And here it is, so please enjoy ♡ ✦ tw: dom! byakuya. reader seems to be a servant of the Kuchiki clan... but is she really?. spanking. kinda degrading words. fingering. vag sex. unprotected. ✦ wc: 1.9k

On your knees, his palm lovingly caresses your cheek. It’s so soft, so gentle… Your naked body kissed by the soft breeze of a flowery spring. Scent of camellias, lips so red...

“What do you want, my servant?” he asks, his pristine gloves reminds you of an angel, and yet he is far away from being one… or maybe, perhaps, he is just like the most beautiful of them all, Lucifer… And, it is exactly him, a pure light overcoming night with its white shine.

“You, Kuchiki-sama. I want…you, Byakuya-sama” you moan, resting your head over his thigh. Your arms hugging his leg, he is so delicate. Your eyes fix on his dark blue sky ones, like a renaissance picture, like a mortal praising a God. “Make me yours, Byakuya-sama. Make me only yours”

The man whose orbs scan you up and down, scoff so sensually. He never smiles, he never laughs.. but that smirk is just for you, only for you. He looks at you with superiority and arrogance; and it makes you tremble, it makes your heartbeat go fast, your lungs to crave for a single molecule of oxygen.

His thumb plays with your lower lip, it slowly gets inside your mouth. Little strings of saliva form as he slowly grazes his fingerprint with your teeth. Byakuya pushes your tongue down, so delicate and deliciously.

Over sensitive, the taste of his skin… your unexpected gagging sound.

He changes his thumb for his index and middle finger, going deep inside your mouth with violence; with brutal intrusion, violating, and so dominantly. He presses down, lips spreading, making space. Your eyes tearing up, but it’s ok, even in front of your blurry vision he looks like Narcissus.

“How far are you willing to go for me, (Name)?” the captain asks, with a sharp look over your miserable drooling you.

You try to speak as your nails carve on his black hakama. You pull from them, down, down. It makes his hipbones show, protrude. What a beautiful pale skin, what a perfect work of art this soul is.

When he finally lets you breathe, and your mandible hurts from being stretched wide open, you try to speak. “I- I am willing to do anything my Sir Byakuya orders me to”

Ah, what a beautiful melody… your pleading voice, begging for him, subduing totally before his superior him. He lives for domination and rules, because he needs to control others and never be weak. If not… he might lose the battle against his own heart.

Byakuya blesses you with a kiss he never gives, it’s always like the first time you feel his lips against your lips. And they are soft, so heavenly. You wanna bite them, you wanna pull from them, you want them to turn from pale to red, filled with the pumping blood of his cold heart.

“Should I make you my personal servant, (Name)? Would you like me to have you whenever I come back here?” the noble asks, carving his slightly long nails on your cheeks.

“Yes, my Sir. I want to serve you, I want to be here whenever you come back so you can use me as much as you wish” you humiliate yourself to the point you have never. You don’t mind being just a hole for the new head of the noble clan you have served since you were a child.

A bigger, more sadistic smirk plasters in the commissure of his mouth. You have chosen the right words, and Byakuya is definitely willing to use you as much as he wants for as long as he wants and requires.

“Such a good servant. Your family has been serving this family since forever, and be proud, you have become the best in your duties” he says, lifting you up from your neck. He doesn’t need to make the slight effort to do so… Captain Kuchiki is strong, even if it doesn’t show.

He puts you on your feet. Your total naked body is like a midnight snack for him, taking a look at it as he walks around you softly humming. He inspects every corner of your anatomy; the noble boy is appreciating his new acquisition. He could have bought you, but you didn’t cost him any money… you came like a gift, like an offering, applying for the most wanted job in the Kuchiki manor… serve Sir Byakuya.

The captain of the sixth squad pins your hands back, he presses them against the small of your back. “Walk, beautiful servant” he orders, pushing you softly towards his room. The doors, that are rarely open, are now split part to part.

His beautiful dormitory, worthy of such a rich man, receives you with dimmed lights. You can barely see every detail, and yet it isn’t necessary. You are absolutely focused on his presence behind you, the reiatsu imprinting on your shoulders that could make you kneel again in a matter of seconds.

Your shins hit his soft bed. Huge, white sheets, a four-poster bed with fine silk curtains for more privacy. “Bend over here” he commands, slowly pressing your back down. Your belly hits the mattress, and his finger follow a path from your nape to the end of your spine.

“You have such a soft skin…” he whispers, while tracing circles over your glutes. He goes slow, so slow. It’s like a sweet treatment, almost tinted in love.

Such sweet words, however, have to be appreciated and thanked. “Thank you! Thank you Byakuya-sama! I don’t deserve such words from yourself” you instantly plead, trying to look at him, lifting your head up from the bed.

“Heh…” he scoffs. Byakuya, perhaps, didn’t like you spoke without permission and you feel the first scalding sensation over your ass. A spank, and then another one. It makes you squeak, loudly whining at it’s both painful and pleasant.

His hand, now heavy, pushes your face against the bed. Clearly, you need to shut up while he has fun with you.

“Let’s make this red and hot, shall we” he grunts, going for a third slap. Your toes curl, you clench the to the bedsheets. Your mouth drools on the cover, it’s hard to breathe as he keeps squeezing you against it.

You feel your core pooling wet. You are sure you must be dripping on the floor, you can feel your inner thighs get more and more moist… you just hope he is enjoying, indeed, such spectacle of horniness and arousal.

And oh, hell yes he is.

You can hear him grunt with each hit, the sound of your skin against his palm mixes in the lustful melody of his bodily reactions.

When he is absolutely satisfied, and probably his hand itches as much as your glutes, he pulls back your head taking a fistful of your hair. “You have make such a mess underneath you, your core can’t wait until I use you, right?” he asks, coming closer to your face, with his sharp mandible and the tickling kisses of his black hair on your back.

“I… I please, use me however you want, Byaku- Byakuya-sama” you struggle to answer him, as his fingers are already intruders of your insides.

“Yeah? Are you… sure?” he asks, fingering you faster and harder. Beckoning, hitting the right spot, speaking with his lips pressed against your cheekbone. Even though you are there to be used for his pleasure, it’s him who is making you reach climax. What can you say, this man is still a gentleman, even in bed, even ordering you around.

You can’t help but endlessly repeat how much you are enjoying his fingers inside you. And frankly, Byakuya seems to be in heaven because of it. Probably, the more you praise his skills, the more he will want you.

And indeed, he does. He takes out his fingers off you. You are about climax, he knows that perfectly well; the clenching walls as he tried to stretched them with just his fingers tells him so.

Byakuya lets go of your hair, and as you rest the stiffness of your head and back, you can sense his pants falling down. You swallow, you are dying to get at least a glimpse at his whole nudity; the image you’ve been dreaming of since the moment you step into this place.

“You seem to like being fingered this way, huh” he smirks, using your overflowing fluids to lubricate the tip of his sex and turning you around in a swift motion. He lifts you by your waist, helping you get all your body in bed. His sex hangs so deliciously hard, almost hitting his stomach from how erected it is.

You take a time to enjoy the image that transcends perfection top you. His eyelids fall, allowing his eyes to barely peak. His shoulders get the rained effect of soft, so silky black hair. His collarbones, perfectly framing his chest, with a little gap in which you would drink the pouring elixir of eternal love.

Your hand tries to touch, to even graze his godly anatomy, but he grabs your wrist stopping you. “You wanna touch? Do you believe you have your hands clean to touch my body?” he asks, reminding you where you come from.

You instantly widen your eyes. Denying with your head, pleading for forgiveness. But, Byakuya is only having fun. He is not that much of a bastard, and instead, he takes your hand to his lips. He sucks and licks each one of your fingers, making you gasp, making you indulge in the last drops of air that your body could reach because you are sure you have forgotten how to breathe.

“There, clean… you can touch me now” he smirks, taking your hand to his chest. You can feel the warmth of such sacred flesh upon your fingerprints. You are touching Byakuya-sama, his sex rests in between his and your belly, your legs are spread enough to have him in between them.

And nothing feels more like heaven than this perfect moment, in which your will rejoice from now on and every single night. And then, his hands end the same paradise that they started, he pins your wrists above your head, so passionately. Because Byakuya knows exactly what to do to be perfect, to act like the man every woman would like to be fucked by.

And when he is ready, his sex finds yours by itself. It fits so perfectly snug, sliding with no effort inside you. You whine, and curl your back as he goes deep with no mercy, with all he’s got.

Your hips search for his, your pelvis now collide one with the other. He pants with his lips separated, his chest and his chin is all you can see, but you can feel his whole entirety, his body and spirit, the soul within and what surrounds it, that’s the embodiment of such heart.

And while he gives you endless trusts, and while he makes you cum… he laughs so sexily and lovingly, kissing your lips so ready for his climax…

“You are such a good actress… “servant”, I loved it” “I’m actually scared at your skills. You- You aced the despot noble, you little shit” “Hey, don’t talk to your husband that way or I’ll order you to cle-“ “Shut up, Byakuya… I love you. We need to sleep, tomorrow we have work” “I love you too… But I wanted a second round…”

#byakuya kuchiki x reader #kuchiki byakuya x reader #byakuya x reader #byakuya kuchiki imagine #byakuya x you #kuchiki byakuya #byakuya kuchiki x you #kuchiki byakuya x you #byakuya #kuchiki byakuya imagine #byakuya kuchiki #bleach #bleach headcanons #bleach imagines #bleach byakuya #bleach x reader #bleach anime #bleach fanart

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xxventiswindblumexx · 1 year

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Sorry I've been a bit busy! But I did make this special story for my Smut Soulmate @hitomisuzuya 🥰

I'll be working on requests as soon as possible! Kinda short! 😭

⚠Warnings⚠:Yandere themes, possessive/obsessive behavior, electro play, choking, Dacryphilia.

You actually did it, you managed to escape the Balladeer, a feat none has every gotten but you. On the run now you hid in a small town outside of Inazuma. Your plan was to hide in the City of Freedom, it seemed like the best place to live, away from him. Unfortunately you were still being pursued by him, the very same man who kidnapped you. As if sensing where you were hiding he had already found out your exact location and would be upon you soon. He must have seen that you managed to escape his clutches because of it as well. You didn’t want to see how he punished those that aided you so easily, but for now it was the best option for you. The only way to survive this mess was to find shelter, find allies, and start making plans. You hoped they would help you get through this disaster.

It's been a week since your escape and all seems to be well so far, a small farm had let you stay with them, an older couple took care of it. In exchange of hiding you, you worked on the farm which wasn't too hard. However what seemed to bother you the most was your thoughts, he really had you manipulated, brainwashed into loving him for so long that even though you escaped you can't help but to miss him? It's conflicting everything, you yearned for his touch, his hold yet repulsed by it.

All this and more went through your head at night when you slept and when you got up in the morning. It's just so confusing and frustrating and you felt like crying. This situation isn't good or healthy, you're stressed beyond belief. You need to make it through this so you can move on, then hopefully things will finally clear out.

That morning was went you felt your heart stop, you where in the barn tending to the animals when you could hear his voice outside, he had found you and he was so close to his prize. Following the sound of Electro sparking and the couple screaming you quickly tried to make your way out the back only to run into a large Fatui Harbinger, Childe. He must've aided Scaramouche in finding you, looking down at you with a smirk he managed to grab you before you could scramble to your feet, crying and shouting as the Balladeer made his way to you. Slowly striding up as if this was a fun game for him.

"You had your fun, you tried but failed miserably, maybe next time try not to leave such a visable path in your wake" He hissed annoyed as he got closer, you close your eyes looking away as you felt him put something on your neck, peeking an eye open you see a collar on your neck with a chain lead to his hand.

"She looks quite cute with it, maybe you should've put it on her before this and she wouldn't have escaped" Childe said letting go now that you're in the collar. He only earned a scoff from the Balladeer "I didn't think I needed to, I thought she learned her place" His electric eyes glaring holes into your soul as you felt electro travel up the chain shocking you slightly "I'll be sure to not make that mistake again, let's go this place is filthy and disgusting" yanking on your chain as he walked, Childe travelling behind you to make sure you couldn't escape.

That night was brutal, chained to his bed in nothing but the cute collar you wore for him, just for him. Your body on display for the Balladeer, he took notice that most of the markings he placed on you had faded, maybe he waited too long to play your game, he needed to remind you who you belonged to. You were just another piece on his chessboard, a pawn used to get him what he wanted. But now, he was going to teach you lesson after lesson on how to obey, how to submit to him, how to please him.

His hands feeling your body sending electro through you, watching your body twitch pathetically under him. "You're such a disobedient whore, ill make sure you'll never think of leaving me again, you'll stay by my side until your mortal life runs out, you hear me!? " he shouted sending more electro into you causing a painful scream, warning signs chuckled from him. Your body decorated in these marvelous electro strikes, scaring into your skin, something that won't fade. He enjoyed it, he loved torturing you. The worst part is that you can feel the pleasure coming off of him as you whimpered in pain. A smile forming on his face once seeing your reaction "See what happens if you disobey?"

He continued his assault feeling his cock press against your entrance "I won't be preparing you, you'll just have to learn to take me as your master or accept the pain of punishment. " he laughed shoving himself into you, your back arching in pain and pleasure mixed. Your mind breaking under it all, his cock making a visable bump on your lower abdomen, his hand pressing on it smirking "I'll never get over how well your small supple body takes me so well, you'll never take anyone else like this so stop even trying to escape me, you're mine and mine alone" he hissed as his hips snap into yours harshly . His hand pressed onto your neck forcing you down "I know you're afraid of me but I'm here to save you."

As you felt more volts enter your system the Balladeer leaned in to kiss your lips harshly, claiming you as his own. "You'll soon recognize me as your god, submit to me while you still have a will Mortal! "

he ordered thrusting in deeply inside of you, causing more shocks as he began to pound inside of you "Don't forget you belong to me!"

He fucked you hard and fast and deep, your body convulsing with pleasure in each thrust, tears streaming down your face and gasps escaping from your mouth. He groans as he releases deep, his seed spilling into you, filling you up, you whimpering from the intense pleasure and he smiles "My good little slut" he praised thrusting his hips one final time before pulling out, wiping himself down and yourself soly so his bed doesn't get too ruined. Releasing you on your bonds only to keep his collar and chain tied to the bed post. "Stay here, try to escape again and next time I won't stop Childe from using more extreme measures in finding you" he hissed a warning before leaving the room.

#scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche #the balladeer

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staygoldwriting · 9 months

Text

⛱ Everybody Talks

Summary: This was a request from the lovely @maltinonka! ❤️

Hello there sweetheart 💜💛 It's me again~ and I have yet another request! This time for both of our pretty boys - Steve and Eddie. The request is pretty simple - song Everybody Talks by Neon Trees. You can go any direction with it. Have a nice day! ( ͡°❥ ͡°)

Word count: ~900

Warnings: teasing and flirting? nothing major 🙂

A/N: This one took me a shamefully long time to write 😥 But now it's here, so I hope you all enjoy! As always, please show love and support ❤️ ✨

“No diving!”

The sharp sound of your whistle sounded as you stood up, yelling at the kid who thought it would be a good idea to dive into the four feet. Summer in Hawkins was brutal enough, but sitting on your lifeguard chair right in front of the water felt miserable. You shook your head as the kid got out of the pool, giving you a pouty look. Sitting down and chugging your water, you watched as your coworker, Steve Harrington, swaggered past. He peered up at you through his sunglasses and smirked.

“Hey there, Y/N,” he smiled at you, but you groaned. He frowned at you, hands on his hips. “Are you even going to look at me?”

“No,” you said shortly, your eyes still locked on the pool. “Because if I look at you, you’re going to hit on me, again, and you’re going to ask me out, again, and I’ll have to reject you,” you looked down at him, “again.”

“I thought you liked persistence in a guy!” he whined. “Listen, I’ve gotta be honest with you, I got this job to spend more time with you. What am I supposed to do with my time if you won’t even grace me with your beautiful smile?” You looked down at him again, a smile breaking across your face as you looked at him pouting.

“Ha!” he exclaimed, pointing at you in triumph.

“Whatever,” you said, trying to hide your grin.

“Well, I guess I’ll take a swim now,” he said, smirking.

“Okay,” you said, elongating the word teasingly.

“Judge my butterfly,” he winked, then dove into the deep end.

“No diving! Ugh!”

“Some people have no manners.”

You turned to see who was talking to you and saw Eddie Munson standing by your chair, shaking his head. He looked up at you and winked.

“Hey, baby, down here,” he smirked, making you blush.

“May I help you?” you asked, chuckling.

“I was just wondering if you could move under the shade a little bit? It seems you’re turning the heat up too much,” he grinned.

“What a line,” you said, shaking your head.

“But did it work?” Eddie asked.

“Maybe.” You looked away from him, still smirking.

“So, what do I have to do to get you away from the chair?” he flirted.

“You have to get Harrington out of the water,” you joked, pointing at Steve.

“On it,” Eddie smirked, walking over to Steve, who was still trying to show off his swimming skills.

“Hey, big boy, how about ending your break to let that stunning lifeguard have a swim with me?” Eddie grinned.

“In your dreams, Munson, I’m this close to getting a date with her,” Steve said.

“Not if I have a say in it,” Eddie shrugged. Steve squinted at him, then got out of the pool.

“How about we let her decide?” Steve asked, hands on his hips.

“You’re on,” Eddie smirked, and they both turned to walk to you.

“Oh, my gorgeous love, Y/N!” Eddie called. “We have come here to battle for your affection!”

“Is that so?” you asked, laughing at them both.

“‘Tis so,” Eddie said, bowing.

“Yeah, I’m here to show Munson who’s the best,” Steve said, winking at you.

“Hope you brought a mirror,” Eddie smiled, then turned to you. “So, princess, how can we win your affection? A contest?”

“Sure,” you said, humored.

“Okay, so what are the terms?” Steve asked.

“Well, tell me what you all have to offer,” you said, leaning over and smirking. “What would a date with Steve Harrington look like?”

“Well, if you choose me, I’ll take you out to a nice dinner and a movie,” Steve smiled.

“I’m listening,” you smirked.

“I’ll pick you up in my car, a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers ready for you, and I’ll whisk you away to Enzo’s for some delicious dinner,” Steve smiled. “We can share some spaghetti and romantic moments in the candlelight. Then, we would go watch the new Tom Cruise movie and share some popcorn. I’ll sneak some candy in for us, and then we can sit in the back and watch the movie with you in my arms. Then I’ll take you home, and we can sit a while in my car or on your porch and talk, maybe more?”

“Very tempting, Steve, very tempting indeed,” you said, and Eddie scoffed.

“Just wait, Y/N, I’ll show you a good time,” he smirked, then dramatically opened his arms.

“A date with Eddie Munson!” he announced. “My instructions would be simple: all you would have to do is wear the most comfortable clothes you own. I’d pick you up in my van, pizza and soda waiting for us in the back. We’d drive out to a place away from the city lights, then we’d open up the back, lay a blanket down and stargaze. We’d eat, talk, laugh,” he leaned in, “live in the moment,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. “And then as our last activity, I’d bring out my guitar and sing you a song I’ve been working on. It’s about you,” he winked.

“Hm,” you said teasingly. “Both are very tempting.”

“But mine is more, right?” Eddie asked.

“No, it’s mine. C’mon, Y/N, I promise it would be a night you’d never forget,” Steve said smoothly.

“I would treat you like a queen,” Eddie interjected.

“I’d treat you like a goddess,” Steve countered.

You looked at their eager faces and smiled sweetly.

“I’ll decide later,” you winked. “My shift is over.”

-⛱-

Taglist: @tillkummer @mlle-ayka @sonicthehedgedoggo @klaine-92 @aurumbelis @onlyangel-444 @beep-beep-sherlock @morishitoshi @onceuponathreetwoone @toomanybandstocare @underthebatcape @zeldaknight @fieldofsecretss @prettyinpunk85 @igotbasicdrag @gothicfaires @thatonecurlygirl @luvthatlovestolove @loliakeoghan23 @dearelliewrites @mslunawinchester @aphex2winn @simonsbluee @inkedaztec @dumplinshee @pastel-abyss-x @frozenhuntress67 @hawkins-hs @witheringawayagain @theshinyrock @hollandcomics @pinkgothiccprincess @persephone13 @katsukis1wife @murnsondock @fictionlandslanddreams @srapalestina @babyghouly @madformunsonsstuff @harrys-tittie @middle--fingering @urmomgov @maybankstarkey @jbetches @stardustmunson @maltinonka @chaerfull @middle-of-the-earth @lilsunshine1092 @thehairington86 @the-weeping-author @bisexual-and-intellectual @loving-and-dreaming @dory-98 @carinacassiopeiae @munsonzgf @just-a-lost-princess @imvomitting

#staygoldwriting #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steveharrington #steve harrington fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #steve harrington #steve stranger things

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kentuckyfriedsatan · 21 days

Text

Thinking about putting my fanfics on tumblr one after another, even though I’m not really active here…

So let’s give this a try, but you can also just visit me on AO3, I’m KentuckyFriedSatan there too.

Devouring Desires

Summary:

Phantom struggles with dysphoria and desire. Mountain helps with a blow job.

(It’s less actual smut happening as one could suspect. But it’s definitely there! It’s a lot of conversation about it though, because it’s Phantoms first time.)

trans masc Phantom, dick and cock used for him, tw for slight gender dysphoria

Read it under the cut!

It’s the middle of the night and the abbey is asleep. Well not the whole abbey…

In the ghouls quarters there is blue light from a phone screen coming out under Phantoms door in the otherwise pitch black corridor. Phantom has been on earth for a few months now and finally caught up to most of the human stuff there is to know, including his own body. After his summoning, he had to discover that he had been given a vessel which was assigned female at birth, even though he felt like his body would have a different kind of anatomy. In the beginning he told no one, thinking it’s probably normal to feel a disconnect between himself and his body…in the pit he didn’t even have a physical form so that would make sense. But he found himself more miserable with each passing day and an immense jealousy for the guys.

What was the turning point was a deep conversation with Dewdrop after Phantom joked (he made it look like a joke at least) about how all of the girls probably feel jealous of the guys anatomies. He found out what it means to be transgender then and changed his pronouns and presentation.

Everything was starting to get better, like he could be happy with his body someday. But on the days many siblings of sin misgender him, his clothes don’t fit right and his voice sounds like acid to his ears, he begins to loose hope that he will ever achieve his goal.

It was one of these days today and what made this situation even worse was that his body betrays him. Phantom is horny. Horny after seeing a heavy make out session between Aether and Dewdrop. He doesn’t want to do anything about his arousal, but the need is so strong. He rarely plays with himself and never with others, not wanting to acknowledge this part of himself. Phantom reluctantly decides to give in to his arousal or he knows he wouldn’t sleep the whole night and feel even more shitty in the morning. To make it as fast as possible, he decides on watching some gay porn on his phone. Phantom heard some siblings talking about it and how great it is so it’s worth a shot right? He doesn’t bother searching for anything specific and just clicks on the first best thing.

After a bit of teasing, one man in the video lowers himself and takes off the underwear of his parter whose hard cock springs free. Without wasting any time he takes the cock into his mouth, bobbing his head in a fast and brutal paste while fondling his balls. Phantom who is laying in the same position as the receiver in the video begins to feel a bit of wetness between his thighs and he hates it, but he focuses his whole attention back on the video. The blow job continues and Phantom starts to grind his legs together to get a bit of friction. Sparks of pleasure fill him, but it’s not nearly enough to make him come. He knows that touching himself would do the trick, but then he can’t keep pretending he is the one receiving a blow job. His imagination is good, but not that good.

He huffs out a breath with frustration of his predicament, on one hand he wants to keep pretending and on the other he desperately needs to get off and stop thinking about it. He gets angry at himself, then he gets angry at the video and then angry at Satan to play such a cruel joke on him. On thing leads to another and he punches the wall before registering what he is doing and what time it is. Its to late, he hears noise in the room next to him. It’s Mountains room, of course he would wake him up. Mountain is the main protector, since he is the strongest and his room is next to the entrance. He also sleeps very shallowly and has extremely sharp senses.

Suddenly Phantoms phone pings with a new message.

‘For satans sake Bat, I can smell your frustration and arousal from here. If you want me to help, come to my room.’

Phantom stares at the text. Nobody has ever asked him so blatantly, and he didn’t expect it from Mountain who is usually the most reserved ghoul in the pack, not like Swiss and Dew who are very open about who they sleep with. He doesn’t know what to do now. Phantom is crazily attracted to Mountain and he feels really safe with him. They cuddle and kiss a lot and he knows that he can trust Mountain 100%.

So his lust clouded mind decides to give this a shot. If this would be Phantoms first, it should be with Mountain.

He pulls away his blanket and pats over to Mountains door. He doesn’t even get to knock before the earth ghoul throws open the door and pulls him into his room. It’s not completely dark, a little salt lamp and fairy lights give a nice and warm glow to the room.

They instantly turn to kissing and Phantom is so desperate that he begins to grind against Mountains forming bulge. Mountain pulls away softly and stares into Phantoms deep purple eyes.

“Wait, we should talk first real quick Bat.”

Phantom nods in agreement and they sit in the bed.

“Can you tell me why you were so angry?” Mountain asks.

“I was feeling dysphoric, and I’m so horny but don’t know how to do anything about it without me getting even more dysphoria.” He begins to explain, “and then I remembered that there is a thing called porn and I gave it a try, and I saw someone giving a blow job. I wanted to pretend that I could have that, you know. But then I remembered that I will never have it and that I will never be normal and have sex the way I wan to.”

“Thank you for telling me Phantom, and if you still want to, I have an idea we could try. It worked really well for Dew and I love doing it. But first I need to know that you really want to be intimate with me. I would never forgive myself if I took your first away from you, if you don’t really want me. I’m sure there are better ghouls…” He has never seen the giant ghoul this self conscious. But that’s a conversation he will have with him the next day.

“Fuck Mount, I definitely want you! I think about you all the time and I really want to do this with you.”

Mountain lets out a small breath of relief.

“Okay, that’s good, I really want you too. I was going crazy about you for too long now.”

Phantom can’t believe that somebody could want him, but he pushes the thought away for now, just happy that Mountain feels the same for him.

“Mount? How are we going to do this? I don’t know anything, you have to help me.”

“Of course Bat. Firstly, do you have any words you would want me to use for your anatomy.”

Mountain sees Phantom struggle with the answer.

“It’s okay if you don’t know, don’t worry about it.” The thing is, Phantom does know what he wants, but he feels too guilty to tell Mountain. He feels silly for wanting somebody to calls his clit a cock. How could he expect his partner to pretend he has one. He goes red and tries to hide his face in his hands, but they are pried away with Mountains strong fingers. “Hey it’s okay, you don’t have to be embarrassed. There are no wrong answers here. You don’t have to tell me and I can keep my words vague, but please don’t hold back because you are worried about what I will think.”

After battling with himself for a bit Phantom mumbles out: “I…I want…canyoupleaseusemaleterms?”

Thankfully Mountain understands and simply nods and smiles proudly. “Of course Bat, I will. Tell me right away if I say something that hurts you though. What are your limits today?”

“I want to keep my binder on and I want nothing inside. I’m sorry.” He feels like a failure.

“Don’t be sorry, I hadn’t planned on that anyway. There are many other ways to feel good.” Mountain calms Phantom and cradles his face in his giant hand. After kissing for a bit, Phantoms arousal is back full force and he whimpers into the deep and dirty kiss. Mountain breaks away from the kiss to pull his shirt off. Phantom is mesmerised with the broad and muscular chest and explores with his hands.

“Can I take your shirt off too, Bat?”

Phantom only nods but lifts his arms. When the tshirt is gone and he is sitting on the bed in only his sleep boxers, he expects disappointment , but instead the earth ghoul palms himself through his boxers. “Fuck! You are so handsome Phantom.”

Handsome! It’s feels so good to be called handsome instead of pretty.

Mountain can feel Phantom getting desperate, so he moves to the floor, now kneeling in front of the quint. He moves his rough hands over Phantoms thighs and kneads a bit. “You can stop me anytime you don’t like what I’m doing. Would you be okay with removing your boxers?”

Phantom nods hesitantly, hating got to be naked. He has a feeling as to where this is going. “You don’t have to do this for me Mount, I know it can’t be arousing for you.”

“I want to Phantom, I love doing this…especially if I can do it for you. And what about this,” he points at his fat bulge with a little wet spot, ”screams not aroused to you? You are so hot and I want to make you feel good. Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.” Phantom answers.

“Good. Then please remove your boxers, but close your eyes.”

He does as instructed and sits naked on the edge of the bed, eyes closed tightly.

Ever so slowly Mountain begins to pry open this legs to expose his dick to the cold air. He moves between his legs and Phantom shivers a bit, but Mountain places little kisses on the inside of his thighs and that sends heat through his body. After a bit more exploring kisses and touches Mountain purrs:

“I will suck your cock now Phantom okay? Keep your eyes closed until I tap your thigh.” Phantom is practically vibrating with anticipation as he feels Mountains hot breath. Gentle lips encase his heat and Phantom gasps. When he feels the tap, he slowly opens his eyes and looks down. He sees Mountain kneeling between his legs and he begins to bob his head like he would with a regular blow job. It’s all for visual, but it knocks the breath out of him. It’s like Mountain is really sucking him off. The earth ghoul hollows out his cheeks and gives a particular strong suck.

“Oh fuck, Mount! It’s so good!” He moans and grabs hold of Mountains hair.

Without moving his mouth away from him, Mountain taps against his own head, and Phantom knows what he means. He tunes in on the earth ghouls thoughts with his powers until he can hear them.

‘You’re doing so good Phantom, you’re so hot I love swallowing your cock.’ He emphasises his thoughts with a lick to the underside of his dick and Phantoms back arches with the sensation. He tries to not force Mountains head, but he can’t help but fist his hair even tighter.

‘Gide my head! Make me choke on you.’

That’s all Phantom needed to fully let loose and begins to move Mountains head, while thrusting his hips forward. Mountain hums and moans against Phantom and let him do whatever he wants.

He can feels his pleasure begin to approach a cliff and he whimpers with the intensity of it. Never before had it felt so good and the visual game they are playing works wonders for his dysphoria.

“Oh oh Mount! Ah fuck, I’m so close!” He nearly shouts with the intensity of it all. The moans can’t be held back anymore.

‘Do you want to come down my throat? Make me swallow it all?’

Phantom nearly has a heart attack from Mountains thoughts, because yes he desperately needs to fill Mountain up, to make a mess of the ghoul on his knees.

“Yes! Yes! I want to! You take me so well, so deep, I want you to swallow every drop!” Phantom is now fully into the fantasy and he has never felt so alive.

‘Then come for me Phantom! You are such a good boy. Do it!’

And Phantom does. He arches his back and presses his thighs around Mountains head, trapping him and keeping him as close as possible. He stumbles over the edge, his dick pulsating as he sees white. Phantom shudders as the earth ghoul keeps working him through it into overstimulation. He closes his eyes and pulls Mountain off, who immediately helps him back into his boxers before he opens his eyes again, to keep the illusion. The earth ghoul straddles Phantoms hips and kisses him with abandon.

“Thank you Phantom for trusting me. This was so hot. You are so hot.”

Phantom tastes himself when he licks back into Mountains mouth. He expected it to trigger his dysphoria, but the opposite is the case.

“I feel incredible Mount, I didn’t think it was possible for me to enjoy this.”

Mountain beams at him with joy and he is still hard and leaking in his boxers.

“Now let me take care of you.” Phantom says seductively.

#ghost band #the ghost band #nameless ghouls #ghost ghouls #fanfic #transmasc #phantom ghoul #mountain ghoul #smut #Phantom/Mountain

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deadgit · 9 days

Text

Okay, here's the post I promised based on @ocean--grey 's poll! So if anyone randomly finds this and is confused, the poll was a question about who makes Lister feel the worst about himself: Low Lister, Sebastian Doyle, or the brain-in-a-jar from "Out of Time." I went tag crazy in my reblog, and this is just what didn't fit 🤣

So, Lister was ganged up on and victimized by all of the Lows in a scene that has to have been one of the most disturbing things that ever happened to him. But one small, probably unintentional detail that I'm going to emphasize is this: all of the Lows were working together, and reasonably well. They all teamed up against him, a solid team, 4 against 1.

And so, I find it FASCINATING that this episode directly follows "Terrorform" and "Quarantine," two episodes that heavily emphasize the everyone vs Rimmer dynamic.

Social patterns can be brutal. At the end of the day, there's very little that makes people feel more together than disliking the same person, especially if they can feel justified about it. And Rimmer is extremely easy to dislike, justifiably.

But unlike Cat and Kryten, who have fairly simple relationships with Rimmer (they know they need him there, and he has a couple redeeming qualities, but they genuinely dislike him), Lister actually sees Rimmer as a human being, with feelings that matter. He wouldn't have chosen to have this guy play a huge role in his life, but he does care about him.

And, sometimes, he treats Rimmer terribly.

It's usually not just him. It's him, the Cat, and Kryten playing off of each other, having Rimmer be the odd-man-out. And he gives as good as he gets, so it probably feels fine, mostly. You can't say that Rimmer doesn't deserve to have his own terrible actions thrown into his face, now and then.

Rimmer was exhibiting some horrid behavior in "Quarantine." His treatment of the rest of the crew before the virus set in was vindictive and petty in really destructive ways. But it was also a direct reaction to his peers talking about shutting him down. (Notably, this was right after an episode where they all pretended to like him, then threw it back in his face.) He probably saw that as a genuine threat to his life, and responded to it the way he's been conditioned to, since he was a kid: weaponize rules, use every scrap of power you have, no one else will help you.

Lister has come to understand Rimmer pretty well by this point in the show. He understands that "the wrong parents" doesn't just mean that Rimmer is ambitious and vain; he knows the guy survived some genuine, serious abuse. (Notably, he's the only character who looked disturbed at Rimmer's Uncle Frank story. Even Rimmer didn't recognize how messed up that was.) Everyone has seen Rimmer at his worst, but Lister has seen him at some of his best, like in "Marooned" when he waxes poetic about friendship and sacrifice, and wants to mirror what he saw as an act of selflessness. Lister knows how badly Rimmer craves acceptance and respect, and knows that he's actually capable of being decent under the right circumstances.

But he doesn't exactly keep that knowledge at the front of his mind. Very understandable, when your bunkmate, say, locks everyone in a room for weeks without entertainment or decent food. And it's especially easy to forget about when you're with two other people who can't stand the guy.

But I think sometimes, when the others aren't there, he remembers that Rimmer is a very miserable, lonely person, who faces almost constant antagonism from everybody in his life. He brings it on himself, but I don't think Lister wants to be a person who enjoys teaming up with his buddies to pick on the group misfit.

And yet, in series 4 and 5 especially, he kinda IS that person.

And I can't help but wonder if his treatment at the hands of the Low crew (ganged up on, having his autonomy taken away, being bombarded with everything he hates about himself) wasn't, in part, a reflection of the way he feels about all that subconsciously.

#it's late so i hope this makes sense 😅#i think that series 10-promised land lister has finally found a good balance of ribbing the guy while watching out for him #which i love sooooooo much you have no idea #please don't read this as ''lister is mean to rimmer! bad lister poor rimmer!''#it's just musing about the cognitive dissonance of knowing that someone's behavior comes from deep hurt #but not being able to stop yourself from responding to it (particularly in a group dynamic)#which imo makes lister SUCH an interesting character

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streaminn · 8 months

Note

Since you mentioned Enid going through the anger part of the stages of grief it made me think it would be kind of interesting if the tournament accidentally reflected those stages, from Enid’s point of view, her whole year doing her best to have her pack be the Arcadia representatives could qualify as Denial, the animosity of being forgotten kickstarting Anger and maybe Bargaining coming as the bridge between Wenclair happens as a “”maybe”” alliance against the other schools (who in turn want the biggest threats of Nevermore and Arcadia out), it’s a nice step, they are kind of awkward as teams but they work, and Depression happens when Enid not only realizes her attitude definitely hurt her old friends to some extent (c’mon you know that little info reveal is going to be brutal) but that, in a way, she was right, maybe those horrible thoughts she had for so long of being inappropriate were right all along, they truly were better off without her, I mean, they are indeed closer now, they were there for each other when she was gone, and Enid? Enid had wanted to crush them under her heel to feel better over her friends not being miserable over her, which they had been, and all of this is her fault and—

Also fuck acceptance, we are not resolving this like proper adults, we are running off into the woods out of shame (and to not go into a rampage on the middle of a literal school) - The Choir’s suggestion, probably, Enid seriously considers it, though

Also a funny name fact, idk if we share this language tidbit but the Oars used for things such as rowing are called Remo in Spanish, coincidentally, our way of writing Remus, so I think the Rowers/Rowing team name is kind of fitting, also Rowers reminds me of Growlers and it accidentally follows the Nevermore Outcast name system

HOW'D YOU FIGURE OUT MY PLAN?? (has not been discreet at all)

Also bargaining is also Enid and Wednesday having time between themself outside the tournament. Where Enid sees wednesday getting affected by everything and offers a tour because there's no point in being up against you if you're distracted

Itd be like old times, Wednesday

Silly Enid, why don't you just say you want to hang out?

BUT NOT ENID RUNNING AWAY WHEN THE SHAME HITS 😭 I HAD A WHOLE ENDING THOUGHT OUT WHERE ENID AND THE PACK WON THE TOURNAMENT AND EVERYTHING

It should be a joyous occasion, there's people cheering and so much noise but even then Wednesday catches her eye

The nightshades look sad sure but they're patting each other in the back and essentially taking it in such a good sportsmanship way that it leaves a bitter taste on Enid's mouth

It's then that enid gets reminded that what's the point of winning when it isn't with her?

And it just slams into Enid that while this is another poe cup tournament, it will never be like the first, the one she won with Wednesday

#Military school au

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fool-errant · 8 months

Text

Company

Oops my hand slipped.

This is hot off the keyboard. No beta - we die like gnomes. Just felt like getting this out. As much as Astarion needs a hug and cuddles I imagine getting him to understand or accept the concept would be hard. Which is how we ended up here. Halla is my current PC - she's an actual DnD tabletop character of mine I dumped into the game. She's a lot better with words when she's doing her usual conniving shit. In this case - she's trying to be genuine. Which is new for everyone. They are both bad at this which is why I feel they work. Halla is a half elf bard - whose very meh with elven shit. And this takes place in the front half of Act 2. No spoilers in it just set dressing.

Astarion wasn’t sure why he’d assumed the nightmares wouldn’t reach him Here. Out in the middle of this godsdamned land covered in shadows. The land was brutal enough he’d thought he would be too tired for Cazador -even a memory of him -to reach. The worm was clearly eating the intelligent part of his brain.

As his mind cleared he found himself sitting up clutching his knees. His racing thoughts started dying down as he made his eyes focus on the campfire in front of him. The glow warding off the darkness of the curse and now his own dreams. A delicate cough attracted his attention from the fire. He found himself meeting a familiar pair of gold eyes. “Darling,” he said quietly with a forced smile. The woman wordlessly sat next to him. Close enough for him to feel her warmth but not touching him. Ever since their talk about their, whatever they were doing, she seemed more careful to not touch him. An odd amount of care that gnawed on him, being treated so delicately. Like he was made of glass. Him. It’d be funny if it wasn’t a relief. “Dreams again.” It was a question that wasn’t. She gave him a look he was unable to read. Concern? Exasperation? Exhaustion? It was late, and the days had not been kind to anyone. “It was noth-” he tried to shrug it off with a laugh. A lie. But the bard’s face changed to a more readable expression. Skepticism. He trailed off awkwardly. They had talked about being more…upfront. “It was Him.” he finally spat out. “Cazador.” The name hung in the air - sullying the aura of the campfire. Halla held out her hand. After a moment of hesitation he accepted it and found himself clinging to it like it and soon her whole arm like it was a rock in a raging river. Leaning slightly he found her bony shoulder under his cheek. Pushing himself closer, the woman offered no resistance, just a small hum in response. He breathed the scent of her, warm skin, her blood, her sweat, leather oil and the pine rosin she was always using on her violin. “Sorry about the stink, I need to do the washing,” she sighed. “It’s been hard to get the laundry service out here. Turns out they all run the other way when they hear “shadow curse.” He smiled weakly. It was a poor stab at humor, but it was still funnier than his lingering dreams. He briefly wondered about telling her he didn’t mind. That the earthy smells were better than the stale old decay and rot of his nightmares. That probably was something best left to himself. “I hope I didn't wake you. Did I?" nightmares were embarrassing. Nightmares where you were so loud you woke others were mortifying.

“Nah” she shook her head, her brown hair glinting gold in the firelight. “It’s my turn to keep watch. I drew the short straw tonight.” she offered with a shrug. The short straw was usually the darkest/latest shift in the night watch rotation. But in this place, there was little difference from the brightest to the darkest parts. Or even a night or day. Exactly how long they had been here was hard to calculate. Days flew by without any indicators but new injuries and horrors. It reminded him of the days in Cazador’s kennels, hours and weeks swept by like a stranger with no notice or regard. That might have been what brought the nightmares plaguing him tonight. The monotonous misery.

“Do you mind giving me my arm back?” Halla’s voice cut into his thoughts. Oh. He was dragged back to the here and now, the campfire. Clinging to this woman like he was a child with a security blanket. Fool. He let go of her arm like it was burning. “Karlach’s shift’s coming up.” she said getting to her feet. Straightening up Astarion nodded and gestured for her to go on.

Standing up with a stretch he turned to walk into his tent. Try to salvage the night - get some rest before they marched back into the cursed dark and shadows. If the shadows would leave him alone. He was about to duck into his tent when he heard a familiar voice behind him. “Erm.” Turning over his shoulder was Halla. She was probably here to chide him for being scared of nightmares, tell him it was nothing to worry about. “You uh…” she faltered, “want to come to my tent?” So that’s what this was. He’d assumed she was too tired for this. Shadowlands were hardly known for their, erotic qualities. Maybe this was payment. Get a shoulder to cry on, give some pleasure. He’d wondered how much of his words she had heard, how much she had meant of him making his own choices. Or how little she cared for sex. He had hoped. But he was a fool. “If that’s what you want.” he said trying to hide his exhausted resignation. She bristled, “Not like that.” she replied. “I meant.” her hands wringing, “I mean. Not for that.” She was usually so good at words it would have been amusing to watch her flounder if it weren’t his nerves she was playing like a bow string. “Want to sl-” she stopped gnawing on her lower lip before finally she spat out something that it took him a moment to realize was elven true tongue. The words for a night's rest and meditation. “Rest with me?” Her tone and language so formal and stiff it was impossible to sound lewd. “What?” he found himself staring at her in bewilderment. “If that was a proposition you have no right to critique mine.” The woman was of some elven blood so it wasn’t a surprise she knew the tongue. She had just never spoken it before. Her face was turning red, a performance he’d never seen her do before. “Do you want to rest with me?” she repeated again in Common her tone quiet. “Just rest. Just sleep. Nothing else. You don’t have to, you can say no if you want to. I just thought you could use the company.” Being alone he was used to. Even in a crowded room, or stacked like kindling with his “siblings” in their bunks. But did he want to be? Now? In this endless night and shadow. “I think” he swallowed. “I think I would like that.” He let her take him by the hand, as she led him to her tent. Karlach settling down by the fire, sharpening her axe, glanced up and smiled like she was going to say something but was silenced with a glare from Halla. The tiefling made a gesture like she was locking her mouth and went back to her business. He ducked to get through the door of the bard’s tent. She drew the drape over the entrance as they came in. They’d made love under the stars, fucked in his bedroll, but he had never gone into her tent. It had felt wrong to do that while he was toying with her, using her. Even with the new found freedom of the parasite it felt wrong to cross the threshold. Violate what odd trust she had given to him. But now he was being led in. It felt strange to be invited so warmly. Reminded him of all the other times he’d been trusted and shouldn’t have been. This was going to end badly. “One moment.” she said and tapped a lantern. The gray darkness of the tent was illuminated into a warm glow. The floor was a beaten battered carpet stolen in their wanderings. Its original design, now worn and faded, still provided some color and degree of separation from the dirt. A few books and scrolls were scattered about. Her boots and hat were carefully placed next to a stool where her armor rested. Ready at a moment's notice. Removing her sandals - the woman began arranging her bedroll and blankets. “You can make yourself comfortable.” Glancing around he tried to find a place to sit, but the only spare cushion that wasn’t part of her bedroll was providing a resting place for her violin. Touching that would be more of an invasion than entering her tent. Gesturing around the room he looked at her quizzically.

“Oh don’t be so dramatic. You can move that and sit there, if you prefer to meditate sitting up” she gestured at the musical instrument. “Or you can join me. If you like.” “I thought you said-” “I said sleep. And I mean sleep.” she said with more patience than he felt he deserved. Getting to her feet - she stooped, though less than he had to and gently placed her hands on his face. Lightly. Giving him space to move away if he wanted. He didn’t move from her touch. “We can share a bedroll, blanket, or pillows or whatever you like.” she said gently. She kneeled back down onto the bedroom and started to stretch out, pulling blankets over her. Leaving some for him, he noticed. A sweet gesture even if he didn’t need it. Carefully he laid down next to her, not touching her at all. When was the last time he’d shared a bed with someone? He wondered. Just for sleep. Not post cloitally. Surely he must have at some point when he was young. Alive. Those days were a blur to him. A blur of sunshine and comfort that swam away when he tried to focus on it. As Halla began to shift her pillow around he was pulled from his musings by a glint of metal. He reached under her pillow and his hand found a stiletto knife. “I never expected you to be the sort to use blades in the bedroom.” “That’s not for you.” she said rolling her eyes, taking the blade from him. “Old habit.” With that she tucked it back under her pillow. She wasn’t asking him if he cared or was concerned about it. He decided not to press her hospitality any further. An odd mix of naivete and steel. Sweet enough to invite a vampire to lay next to her but savvy enough to keep a knife close. He could respect that. “You can turn off the lamp if you want.” she murmured her voice half muffled by her pillow. She sounded like she was halfway off to dreaming. He hoped hers were more pleasant than his had been.

The light was better than shadows, real or imagined he decided. Leaving the lamp lit he closed his own eyes and tried to get himself to rest as well. At least for the moment he wasn't alone in the dark.

#fanfic #bg3 #astarion

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