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#but even though its only been 3 days. I need to get it out and in the world.
xi-chan · 3 days
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Do you think you could write smt about Sunday or argenti with a partner that plays violin.. I've had this idea in my head for a couple days I just want to play them a nice song
of course love!! I love this idea btw- calm and romantic
thank you for your request <3
General Carnation
sypnosis: your boyfriend loves nothing more than to watch you play your instrument pairings: Argenti, Sunday x reader (separate) wordcount: 700 (Argenti), 636 (Sunday)
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ARGENTI
"Remember when you said you wanted me to express my hobbies more with you?" you asked, currently sitting in one of the many armchairs in your lover's spaceship. He averted his attention from one of his many roses to you as he thought for a little time. "I do believe I remember. Why are you asking?" Argentine plucked one of said roses before bringing one to your hair, smiling gently. "I used to play the violin when I was younger, but after some time I kind of neglected that hobby and have been unable to play," you brought a hand up to your hair and felt the softness of the rose petals on your fingertips. It was smooth and glazed over your skin, unlike the other roses on the ship- of course he gave you the best rose he currently had. "I wanted to play again, all of a sudden, and I wanted to ask if you wanted to, I don't know, maybe listen to it?" it's true that it has been a few years since you last played, mostly due to the fact that work and free time weren't the best companions and after meeting Argenti- well, let's say you didn't have to worry about work anymore but were instead bombarded with his love. Not that you minded.
"Why, of course, my love. Listening to you play would make my entire day." he took your hand in his and held it gently, only squeezing a little. You smiled at the gesture but worried about one small detail: "I don't have a violin anymore though. And I know that there isn't one on the sh-" "We'll go somewhere and get you one then," he interrupted, smiling brightly at you. "Are you sure?" you held his hand equally gentle and he nodded his head, before walking to the cockpit and entering a new destination.
The feeling of a violin was all too familiar for you. Even after years of abandoning your hobby, your muscle memory did not betray you. Before you got into position though, you took a good look at the violin Argenti bought for you: it was hand-made crafted with the best quality wood, no cracks, the fingerboard was made out of ebony and the strings were easy to press down- Argenti truly sought after the best violin for you. You smiled at the thought before placing the violin on your left shoulder, your bow in your right hand. Your fingertips rested on the strings and you took a deep breath, trying to remember the songs you used to play, while your lover sat on one of the armchairs, waiting patiently. "If you're in need of some time to prepare you're freely to say so, my love." your cheeks reddened at his remark and you shook your head, "No need, I think I got it."
Your body seemed to be working on its own as you moved the bow over the strings, and a harmonic melody was played. Argentinischer watched pleasantly as you played and a smile was upon his lips as you two made eye-contact. He never said a word as you played the violin, silently amusing himself with his view of you and during the refrains of the melody, he sometimes even hummed a little, making you smile softly. As you played, Argenti relished in the sight. You were beautiful. Another kind of beautiful that he never thought he'd find in his lifetime.
Once you began to slow down and eventually end did he get up from his seat to hold your face in his palms before kissing you softly on the lips, which you reciprocated. "I assume you liked it?" you asked, only above a whisper. He chuckled as he nodded, "Of course I did. You were wonderful, love. Would you mind playing more, whenever you can?" you merely placed the violin on the ground before you hugged him tightly, trying to ignore his armour though which seemed impossible, after letting out a small "yes" at his question.
Now, whenever he was navigating to a new planet or universe, you stood a few metres away from him, playing the melodies both of you liked the most.
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SUNDAY
The amount of workload he currently had was almost impossible to count. Piles and piles of documents messily stacked on his desk, and he himself wasn't any better. You offered to take some of the workload but he declined, saying that he can handle it by himself. He mentally gave himself a punch in the face as he realized how long he would have to sit at his desk before spending some time with you again. As he grumbled to himself, the doors to his office opened slightly, with you in the frame after, a violin in your hand.
"Ah, Angel, what are you doing here? I thought you wanted to meet up with my sister at Oti Mall." he said after lifting his head, his wings fluttering a little as he saw your figure. "I did say that, but Robin had to cancel due to some... complications with her next concert." as you entered his office, you closed the doors behind you before noticing the documents on his desk. "I'm assuming those are the ones you still need to finish?" you asked and he merely nodded his head slowly. "I apologize, but it seems I have no time to spare with you, Angel." Sunday placed one finished document on a neatly piled stack before grabbing another from the messily piled one. You shook your head as you walked towards his desk, standing in front of him. "Darling, have you even looked at yourself in the mirror? You're not Sunday anymore- you're every other day of the week that isn't meant for resting." Sunday held back a chuckle at your use of his name which surprised you. Normally he would glare a few seconds at you before you apologized- but, to be honest, nicknames like chicken wing weren't exactly names he liked.
"What's with the violin, by the way? I noticed it when you entered." he inquired. "Oh, that's-" you brought up the violin for him to see before you elaborated, "Remember when I used to play the violin for Robin after he music lessons? She said it calmed her mind so I thought it could maybe work for you." Sunday tilted his head, a finger on his chin, "I see. In other words, you want to play for me?" he gave his usual charming smile at you as you nodded. "If you don't mind, of course." Sunday shook his head before you placed the body of the violin on your shoulder. "Any specific song you want to hear?"
As you played, Sunday's mind really calmed down and the responsibilities that laid on his desk seemed to vanish in a blink of an eye, his focus entirely on you. The calm, and soothing melody that you played made his head feel like it's on clouds and he smiled half-present at you. For a second, you thought he fell asleep when you noticed his eyes closed, but he hummed softly after. Sunday knew that you were good with instruments, mostly with string instruments, but he could've never imagined that you were able to play such angelic tones that could surpass even The Harmony's tunes.
As you began to stop, Sunday groaned with a small "please continue", making you smile to yourself. "Angel, it does calm me down, why are you stopping?" you sighed as you pointed to his documents. "I'm distracting you, too." Sunday shook his head, taking a deep breath before focusing on a paper again. "Please, continue. I can work and listen to you." he said and you simply giggled before placing the violin on your shoulder again, the bow on the strings.
"Fine, fine. I'll continue if it helps." you say before playing again and Sunday smiled as he began to work again, more pleases and more efficient, as well as faster, than before.
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A/N: Btw I don't know how to play the violin but still tried my best
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livelaughlovesubs · 2 days
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do you write for nanami? if you do, i have a req :3
au where hes still with us (sniffles) and being a sorcerer is more of an on-the-side thing, and he's like an overworked office middle class guy whos also a wizard on the lowkey. sometimes he works so much he even forgets his birthday. but you didn't. ohhh no you did not. you're at home patiently waiting for him, and all you want is to spoil him for the night because he deserves it!! he deserves to just be taken care of, given the care he needs, maybe a little overstim in the process, but it's all with good intentions... (right?)
SORRY THIS IS SO LONG OMG 😭😭
anyway...... requesting a sub!nanami x softdom!female!reader with a little overstim <3 (out here exposing my service dom fantasies)
idk if you do emoji anons, but if you do can i be 🎱 anon? tysm!! i love your works and i hope your have a lovely day/night :) <333
So taking care of nanami on his birthday? Consider it done. Also welcome 🎱 anon, I’m happy about all my new anons ^^
Dom!reader x sub!nanami
Warning: blow job (reader giving), teasing, marking - hickeys, fluff, use of pet names
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Hands moving across the table, reaching for the dirty porcelain. The sound of plates being stacked could be heard, and you swiftly placed the dishes on the counter. Nanami tried to help, carrying the cake over to the refrigerator, though you stopped him. “Let me do it, it’s your birthday today! You are forbidden from working.” You declared, snatching whatever he was holding away and putting it in its rightful place yourself. “My birthday isn’t that important, just let me help.” He was such a gentleman, but you still stayed stubborn. Today was his birthday, yet he still went to work, he even did overtime. That’s not acceptable, at least now you should lift some burden off his shoulder.
Right, that was your plan. To take care of him, make him feel loved and happy. Also most importantly, not let him do any chores. Even if it doesn’t look like that, he also has to rest. You really adored him which is why you wished he’d take care of himself some more, and have a mesmerising birthday of course. So why did he look so troubled? You told him not to help. Instead of relaxing he looks uncomfortable or awkward. Just sitting there, watching you do it all. Seems like this part failed a little.. then it’s time to move onto the next one.
Still determined to make him enjoy himself, you brought him to your shared bedroom after watching a movie. “Could you please sit down, my dear?” You asked him, while slowly stripping your clothes. Until you were only in your undergarments. In the meantime the Blondie sat down, a slightly hesitant look on his face. He wasn’t sure what to do, since you’ve been taking everything upon yourself the entire time. His hands wandered to his belt, gaze never leaving your body. Before he could get rid of his belt, he felt your hands on top of his, stopping him gently. “Leave it all to me, alright?”
Nanami felt really embarrassed now. What was he, a kid? Why would he need help undressing himself? Despite his inner turmoil, he still let you do whatever you wanted. It looked like you planned all of this just for him, thus he’ll try to play along. The last thing he’d want is to inconvenient you. Slowly you pulled his belt out, then your fingers wandered up to his collar. He felt a slight tug as you pulled on his tie, untying the knot. Then you gently, and carefully unbuttoned his deep blue shirt. You were only focused on him, and nothing else, pupils glancing at his face every now and then. A smile spread across your features when you saw him furrowing his brows. “You can take off those glasses now.” You whispered, one hand reaching for his cheeks, caressing him while the other still held his dress shirt. His own hand moved upwards and took them off, placing them on the nightstand.
“Such beautiful eyes, don’t hide them from me all the time, hehe.” “I’m not hiding anything from you.” You sure hoped that was the case, considering how he thinks most of the stuff happening at work isn’t worth mentioning. Now that that was out of the picture, you resumed your previous antics, opening one button after another. Soon it revealed his muscular body, and you couldn’t help but stare. You have always loved everything about him, from the head to toes. Yet right now you were sure his torso was your favourite. How beautiful his skin was, as well as the little, barely visible scars from battles; or his firm chest with those cute nipples.
You moved your face closer to his, hands on his pecs now as you kissed him, locking your lips with his. His lips were soft and you were like in a trance when you kissed him. Before he got to enjoy it you pulled back, grinning from ear to ear. It was way too short for him, but he didn’t complain, he could never get mad at you. Afterwards you started kissing his neck. So carefully and tender, that it felt like a feather brushing over his skin, it was almost ticklish. His breath sharpened by a notch when you started groping his chest, squeezing that place with your fingers. In between kisses and smooches, you made sure to whisper into his ear, showering him with compliments. “I’m so glad to have you, my handsome and beautiful boy.” This continued for a bit, and soon his entire collarbone area was covered by red spots. Some hickeys were on his torso too. “You look gorgeous right now.” you commented on those trails of marks you left behind, before fumbling with the zipper of his pants.
You didn’t strip him entirely naked, only enough that you get to touch him wherever. Pulling his pants and underwear down a little to free his cock. He groaned a little when you wrapped your hand around his shaft, rubbing the part that is connected to his pelvis. “Y/n, darling.. don’t tease today.” Immediately your attention wandered to him again, shushing him with your finger as you said, “don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything, I’ll make you feel good today.” A light chuckle, then you played with his tip. The adoration you had for him was genuine, and visible in your eyes.
The way you looked so confident and eager to make him feel good was so adorable in his eyes, and he just can’t help himself but fall even more. Sighting a little before it turned into a breathy moan, “uhh,..huh.” Your delicate fingers were touching all the right places, and soon he was fully erect. One of his hands was clutching the sheets, while the other reached out to your hair, stroking it gently. This surprised you a little, but it wasn’t too bad so you let him be. Then you moved lower, until your lips were inches away from his dick. You let your saliva drool down, afterwards you licked his tip as a tease. “Hmm- i told you not to tease.” “Oh? Guess i forgot that then~” an adorable giggle followed, coming from you. He was truly lucky to have you here with him.
While he was still admiring the relationship you two have build, you took him into your mouth and sucked. Trying your best to avoid any teeth and using your tongue to roll it over his tip. “Ughh- haa..” his grip on your hair tightened. Normally you’d push his hand away, though today was a special occasion. Sweet moans and the occasional gasp spilled from his lips, eyes now clenched shut. Sometimes he’d bite his bottom lip too, to try and keep his voice down. You just continued taking more of him, using your hand to jerk off the rest that didn’t fit. “Darling.” He called out to you, but stopped mid sentence to compose himself. It was getting harder and harder to speak, or to think.
He could feel every fever of his being pulsing, his heart pounding like crazy. The blood rushed to his face and abdomen, making the rest of his limps go numb. Strength was leaving his legs and arms slowly, all while more and more pleasure flourished within him. How his body convulsed every time you licked his tip, or when the inside of your mouth clenched down on him. It felt warm and soft, so good he could feel himself getting closer to the edge.
“Ahh.. keep going, just like that.. please.” Finally he finished his sentence, pleading with you with a meek voice. You didn’t plan on stopping anyway, instead you wanted to make him beg you to stop at the end of this session. Smirking to yourself as you kept doing your own thing, enjoying the noises he’d make. Did it really feel that good? Was what you would have liked to ask, but this is fine too. As long as your lovely boyfriend looks ecstatic and full of bliss, you were content too. Out of nowhere his grip righted by a lot, enough to make it hurt for you. He mumbled apologies while saying, “ah.. I’m clo-close.. haa, sorry., darling…”
What a lucky boy. If today was any other day you would have punished him. Fine, guess you were going to be especially merciful with him. You didn’t mind the slight sting his tug brought you, mouth and hands still working on bringing him over the edge. He let go of your hair in the last minute and clasped it over his mouth. A silent moan left him, then a repressed groan followed. “Nghhnmmm…!! Ahhh..ugh..” his voice was beautiful, you could listen to him all day. Even though his hand wasn’t in your hair anymore, you still didn’t move away. Letting him cum in your mouth, before you finally moved back. When your lips left his dick you made a wet slurping sound, then swallowed everything he offered to you. “Delicious~” you smiled innocently as if you didn’t just make him see heaven.
Suddenly he moved closer to you, sitting up and hands grabbing your cheeks now. “Nanami? Is something?” You wondered, but that curiosity soon got replaced by shock and a joyful feeling you haven’t felt for a while. He kissed your forehead, cupping your face with his hands as he whispered, “I’m glad i can spend my birthday with you.” All while smiling so tenderly, with a calmness and warmth that was unfamiliar to you. Only sometimes he’d get emotional enough to be like this, and whenever he did, you couldn’t help but fall in love with him all over again. “Happy birthday, nanami.”
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beary-rambles · 2 days
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Undeniable Desire
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c.w season two spoilers; characters (addam and nettles), mention of dragonseeds (nothing more), loss of virginity (jacaerys) non virgin reader, smut, fingering (fem), oral (fem), p in v, clothed sex ?, possessive jacaerys, not proofread
summary: You are dragonseed and have become good friends with the prince. You think nothing of it and not expecting your desires to lead to anything but when you speak of what you think of your future his truer colors show.
w.c: 1.8k
a.n: anybody else cant stop thinking about bridgerton LMAO, i need to rewatch soon, anyways i hope you all enjoy :3 promise im getting around to requests i just needed to push out this idea 🥰 LOVE YOU GUYS
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You finally manage to shake off addam and his drunken rampage with a laugh telling him off. “come on you cant leave yet.” “I am going to bed you fool leave me be.” You knock him upside the head and he groans giving you the opportunity to walk away and turn back to the rest of them with a wave. Chimes of goodnights and sleep well are what your met with and you walk away, feeling eyes burning into you you turn back once more and see him staring at you with an unknown look on his face, taking a drink out of his chalice ignoring alyn next to him who was talking his ear off, not even sparing him a glance as he continues to stare at you.
You turn around attempting to ignore how your stomach burns and your face heats at the thought of him. Jacaerys Velaryon. You just like the rest of your ‘dragonseed’ friends have grown close to jacaerys during your time together. Yet you can’t help but feel their was something different about the way he looked at you and even other people can’t help but notice it either.
‘He is definitely wants to fuck you.’ ‘Nettles!’ The girl next to you laughs before chugging down her wine. ‘Do not say such things.’ Addam walks over and drops down to the spot next to you, ‘what are you two talking about?’ ‘The prince.’ ‘ah and how he wants to shag miss oblivious right here.’ ‘did you guys plan this?!’ You in your frustration rip the cup out of addams hands and chug it. ‘its not our fault he makes it so painfully obvious and you are so painfully oblivious to it.’ You shake your head and keep your gaze at the campfire in front of you. ‘It is not true.’ you don’t see the way the pair look at each other and instead start picking at the grass near you.
Even if it was true it wouldn’t matter, you certainly had no intention of sleeping with him. He was betrothed and he certainly did not seem like the type of man to lay around with any women he saw fit. He was the crowned prince for gods sake the heir to the queen and you were in the middle of a damn succession war feelings be damned and you were certain your friends were just playing jokes on you and he certainly just saw you as a friend.
You think nothing of it as you are getting ready to go to bed, just having put on your night gown after your bath, when the flap of your tent opens and you turn to it alarmed and let out a sigh of relief when you see him. “I am sorry i did not mean to disturb you.” “It is no issue my prince, Do you need something?”
You turn back to the mirror and fiddle around with your hair, eyeing the prince through the mirror. He just stares at you for a moment and takes a drink from his cup, you gulp and look away from him, pushing down your own desires attempting to stop your imagination from running wild. What if he just walked over to you and pushing you against the mirror, ripping off your dress and having his way with you, maybe he would drop to his knees and wrap his lips around your pearl, only letting go until you were withering and begging him to stop.
You shake your head and “Would it be selfish of me to admit i missed you? i feel as though we did not talk much today?” You smile lightly at his words and curse yourself for thinking such terrible things. Of course he simply just wished to see you, as he had been busy with his duties all day, only getting to see you all at the end of they day only for you to leave before getting to say a single word to him.
“You honor me my prince with your time.” He shakes his head with a laugh taking another sip, “i would give you anything in the world.” You flush and look down, fiddling with your dress too embarrassed to move from your place in front of the mirror. Hes just being dramatic you think, he does not mean what he says, especially since he seems to be drinking. “You are too kind my prince.” “Call me Jace i beg of you.” “Would you truly beg me?” “I would get on my knees at your feet and do whatever you asked.” Your knees shake as you press your thighs together, the heat between you legs almost unbearable, a part of you wants to shoo him away so you can put your hand between your legs and take care of yourself or find some poor soul in the camp to relieve yourself with. You don’t, you cannot simply ask him to leave for such selfish reasons, especially since you know deep deep down that if you sought out somebody else you would only be thinking about him.
He seems to realize you don’t plan on saying anything so he begins to speak. “You know they were all talking about something.” You give him an interested look in the mirror and he takes another sip, “About what they were planning on doing after this fight is over. Do you have any thoughts? About what you plan to do?” You look up in thought, “I haven't given it much thought if im being honest.” He hums but says nothing. “Maybe i go off to the reach, it sounds very lovely.” “You would not stay in the keep?” You laugh at his idea and shake your head, “Why would i stay there? What would you miss me?” He says nothing and you don't look at him, instead continue talking, lost in your own imagination. “I would probably travel around for a bit, then find some lord to marry he fuck some babies into me and then i live the rest of my life-” You gasp as your suddenly pushed against the mirror being completely trapped by him, you hadn’t even registered the cup being thrown to the ground.
“My prince?” He flips you around suddenly and your eye to eye with him. His hands grip your waist and pull you directly against him. “You will not leave.” “I don't understand-” “You are not going anywhere you will stay by my side.” He has an animalistic look about him, like he's about to eat you whole, completely bewildered by the idea of you leaving. “I have no place in the keep.” “Your place is by my side.” His words have such a finality and certainty about them as if he's giving you no reason to argue with him. “You are to be married, This is highly inappropriate.” Your words are pushed out like puffs of air as his hands have moved up to your chest, rubbing your nipples through the fabric, you can feel him hardening between your legs. “I shall take you as a my second wife, no one will argue i will be king.” “You are being absurd.” “Do you desire me?”
You pull him into a heated kiss. He quickly reciprocates, his hands moving from your waist to under your night gown and he lets out a delighted hum at the liquid on your thighs. ‘Are you bare?” “I was planning on sleeping.” He moans lightly before he pauses before actually touching, “Do you want this?” you nod feverishly, “Please touch me please.” wasting no more time he runs his fingers along your folds, “This is for me right? and no some stupid pompous lord in the reach.” “yes yes.” You answer him but he doesn't seem to be listening, mumbling to himself in anger. “I hate the lords in the reach, always with each other heads in their asses no way you will marry any of them, let them put a baby in you.” He sticks two fingers inside you, “I wouldn’t i wouldn’t only you.” The pit in your lower stomach grows as you watch in shock him drop to his knees in front of you, his body being lost to your gown as he begins to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers moving quicker to pump in and out of you.
You cannot speak so much of his name. Using one of your hands to cover your mouth to not draw attention to yourself, the other plays with one of your tits, sliding it under your dress. He does not let up, even has you orgasm once then twice, only releasing you after the third time and you fall back, leaning against the mirror with wobbly legs as he keeps a tight grip on you holding you up as he stands. You can see the shine of your own essence on his lips and jaw, you swear you can even see some of it dripping down his neck into his collarbone.
He simply stands there and watches you fiddle around with his pants to free him for a few moments as he licks his lips. “You do not know how often i have thought about this.” You look up at him and give him a smile, “You think of me?” “Every minute of everyday, my waking thoughts and my dreams are only filled with you.”
Before you know it he is pushing into you with a hiss and you chuckle with a delighted moan at his closed eyes and clenched teeth. “First time?” “I may not have been your first but i will be your last.” Giving himself a second to get used to your pulsing warm walls that seem to be sucking him in every second he begins to move. Hes a little sloppy, clearly unsure and if anything a little unconfident about what he’s supposed to do. You place your head on his neck, making sure your lips are right next to his ear and you begin to move your hips to meet his, moaning in his ear only for him to hear.
He gains confidence after a few moments and soon enough you have no longer and need to meet him as he begins to pound into you diligently. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his tunic as the pit in your stomach grows once more. “please tell me your close.” You’re shocked he’s even managed to last this long but nod and he groans in delight. “Please peak please together.”
The mirror behind you is completely covered with a foggy mist just as your eyes are when you finally release. You pray as you catch your breath that you two were quiet enough because you would rather be dead than me made fun of by your friends for finally fucking the prince. But as you feel his seed running out your lips and down your thigh you decide maybe it was worth it.
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perm jacaerys taglist <3
@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese
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geeks-universe · 6 hours
Text
The Fallen pt. 4
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Cooper Howard x F!Angel!Reader
A/N: This contains smut.
Cooper was angry.
No, he’d been angry when the shit-for-brains had the audacity to look at you like he was stripping your body bare with his eyes.
Now, he was furious.
Rage was an easy emotion, a comfortable one. For years it’d been his only companion, and slipping back into its familiar embrace felt almost natural to him.
Lucy had been too preoccupied with saying goodbye to her lover boy to see the carefully lidded fury, a snake in the grass ready to strike.
You’d noticed though.
Of course you noticed, just like you did every other damn thought that crossed his mind. Maybe you’d noticed the hundred different ways he’d imagined popping that weasel’s head off, of making you pay for the tiniest bit of himself he couldn’t let die.
When you’d proclaimed a shelter for the night- a sad little shack with three walls- Lucy had wandered off with some lame excuse of looking for supplies, the dog trotting happily along with her. Or maybe it was checking the perimeter. He didn’t care, hoped she died, really.
You set a lantern on the ground between the two of you, laying out your pack to get comfortable on the floor. Cooper didn’t bother, couldn’t sit down while the fire burned through his veins. It roared through every inch of his body, consuming him with a vexation he hadn’t felt in a long time.
That fucking roach should’ve lost his hands for touching you, for thinking himself deserving of your silky skin.
“You should rest.”
He barked a laugh- a harsh, aggravated noise wrangled from his chest.
“Ain’t as delicate as you.”
It was meant to be an insult, and fuck didn’t that just piss him off that you let it slide right off you. Unbothered, the same way you’d been the day he first met you.
The same way you’d been when that rat had scurried to you, vying for your attention.
“Coop-“
“So now you want to speak to me?” He straightened his back, standing to his full height as he glared down at your sitting figure.
It was an intimidation tactic, and he knew you well enough to know that it wouldn’t have the effect he was hoping, but it would make you privy to his frustrations.
“Seems like I’m a great choice when I’m the only one.”
Confusion furrowed your brows, quickly replaced by understanding. You let out a low sigh, eyes tracing Cooper’s figure in the dim light.
He didn’t like that you could be so calm, that you didn’t feel his wrath.
“You’re jealous.”
He snarled, angry at the insinuation- even more so that it was correct. It wasn’t just jealousy though.
You were his.
He hadn’t had something worth holding onto in a long damn time, and nobody would take what was his.
“If I was jealous everytime you opened those pretty legs for someone else, I’d never get any rest.”
Your eyes flashed- hurt, followed quickly by anger.
Good.
He wanted you angry.
Wanted you to feel the inferno in your chest, the way he did- to let it consume you in a blaze of abandon, come undone at the seams and show the person beneath.
“We’re not doing this,” you stated bluntly, still holding onto the last bit of restraint.
That wouldn’t do.
He wanted you unraveled, raw.
“Runnin’ won’t change a damn thing.”
Your hands pressed into your knees, a quick outlet of irritation before you stood up. Your eyes were still burning, but it wasn’t enough. You still had too much control.
“You’re such an ass.”
The smirk he flashed was cruel.
“‘M honest,” he argued, “and doesn’t that just piss you off?”
Your chest expanded with a deep breath, eyes unfocused as you talked yourself down. He was so close, you just needed a little push.
“Poor little dove, just wants to run away from her problems like she did her family.”
Bingo.
Faster than a blink, you were in his face, your teeth bared as you raised a fist. He took the opportunity, watching your rage swelter as he grabbed hold of your wrist and twisted it behind you.
Fuck if your rage wasn’t the most intoxicating thing- the rise and fall of your chest hypnotic, the bare of your teeth captivating. You growled, an angry, ominous noise that went straight to his cock.
Your back was pressed against his front, moving with the rhythm of your erratic breathing, teasing friction exactly where he wanted you. His fingers pressed into your wrist harder, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. You weren’t fighting his hold- waiting, listening.
“Maybe that’s why your daddy left you too.”
Your eyes seemed to glow with an inner fire as you tried to pull your hand from him. He held fast though, put every ounce of his strength into restraining you. You lashed out like a wild animal, movements irrational and erratic. Finally, when it was clear you wouldn’t get free, you spit at him.
“Fuck you.”
It was the most vulgar he’d ever heard you, his wrath mixing with desire. Warmth seeped into his cheek where your spit had landed, and in a quick kick of his legs, he dropped you to your knees hard.
And wasn’t that a damn sight.
“If that sweet mouth wants to be filthy so bad, why don’t we put it to good use.”
He talked slow, controlled, as he grabbed your hair, pulling your head back. Wild eyes traced the arch of your back, the smooth column of your exposed neck.
He wanted to take a bite.
Your eyes were burning into his, an anger he’d never seen before from you shining through. You looked like you hated him, like you’d burn him on the spot.
“Now, sweetheart, try not to use your teeth.”
He clicked open his belt buckle, positioning himself just enough to free his hardened length. He’d dreamt of this moment, had pleasured himself to the thought of you more than he could count. The realization that it was coming to fruition had him so hard it fucking hurt. He took pride at the hunger in your gaze, your mouth still twisted in a scowl.
“Don’t act all innocent now.”
Almost as if it were a challenge, spurred on by your temper, your hot mouth took his entire length in one quick movement and-
Holy fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You were impossibly warm, your tongue sliding the length of his cock while your eyes, the ones he’d spent so long admiring, stared into his own. You held his gaze, refused to look away as you hollowed your cheeks, daring him to keep going.
He didn’t disappoint, wrapping his hand around your hair just like he’d done with his lasso. Sturdy hands forced you to take him to the base of his cock, before pulling back out. He thrusted back in hard, unconcerned with the tears that gathered in your eyes as he slammed into your throat.
You were defiant in the way you took him, forcing a harsher pace than the one he’d set.
This had to have been heaven. Nothing on Earth could possibly feel this fucking good. His thrusts were feral, unrelenting, and you were meeting them with ferocity, your pretty lips wrapped so perfectly around his cock.
“Takin’ me so good,” he groaned, his abdomen spasming. The sound of your gags filled the air, tearing through any restraint he might’ve had.
It’d been a while since he’d felt any sort of pleasure, even longer since it’d been anything more than a quick fuck.
This, though…
This was a whole different beast.
Fuck.
He wiped at the saliva coating his cheek, staring into your eyes as he slid his fingers into his mouth, tasting your sweetness.
You moaned, and he was sure this had to be a dream.
Reality had never been this nice.
“My filthy girl.”
Another moan, and this one almost dropped him to his knees. Pleasure tingled up his spine, down to the tips of his fingers and the bottom of his toes. His body was practically vibrating, begging him for release.
He didn’t want it yet, wanted this moment to last an eternity. His cock was pounding into your mouth, your fingernails digging into his thighs- sweet pain mixed with hot pleasure.
Please, his body sung, begging for a release he desperately fought against.
His pace was brutal, chasing the high he both wanted more than anything, and wished would never come.
It wasn’t enough.
This wasn’t enough.
He needed more.
Needed all of you.
“You are mine.”
He emphasized on a growl, savoring the taste of you that still lingered on his tongue.
He was desperate for more, for every damn piece of yourself you’d give him. It’d never be enough, not enough time in the universe to get the fill of you he wanted- needed.
He was close now, only holding on by sheer will, and all it took was a tilt of your head and a long, low moan of what he only prayed was his name around his length.
Like a band, his restraint snapped, his hips surging forward as he grunted your name.
Fuck.
Fuck, his body was singing.
Fuck. Curses, unbidden, were falling from his lips. Pleas, praises, worships- fuck it all he couldn’t even tell anymore, blinded by the feel of your mouth.
It was hot, so hot, and you swallowed every drop he gave you, his sensitive cock was twitching, his knees trembling with the effort to stay on his feet.
You kept going though, pulling your lips back just far enough to lick his length clean, your eyes still so full of fire, the same fire racing through his body.
It was so much, too much almost, and yet he gave into the torturous pleasure, desperate for you, for whatever you’d give him.
His hat had fallen off his head when he threw it back, his legs shaking as you finally pulled away- and despite the overstimulation, his body still chased your mouth, not ready to feel the empty, consuming void left in your wake.
A breath.
A moment to consider what he’d done, what he’d said to you. It wasn’t anger in your eyes- not regret, either. He couldn't read it, couldn't grasp what you were feeling.
His heart pounded against his chest, exhausted arms releasing your hair as he slowly, cautiously, raised his fingers to your cheeks. Tears had fallen from how far he’d thrust himself into you. He wiped them away, let them press into the fabric of his gloves, as the air grew thick.
It was a soft moment, a gentle one, and he didn’t want to be the first to pull away.
So you did.
You got your feet and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, your jaw flexing as you looked like you hadn’t just sucked him fucking dry.
He tucked himself back in his pants and secured his belt, waiting for you to speak. It was a tense moment, drawn longer by the way you wet your lips, like you wanted to talk but couldn’t quite form the words.
“Oh, fudge, are you two okay?”
His finger itched with the desire to end the vaultie for interrupting this, for causing you to cast a worried glance in her direction before your damn walls were thrown back up. Whatever you’d been about to say, you definitely wouldn’t now.
“Just peachy,” you smiled, one that screamed inauthenticity as you took a step to face away from Lucy.
“Think I need some air though, I’ll be back in a bit.”
It was a dismissal if he ever heard one, and the vault dweller had the good sense not to try and follow.
“Your hat’s on the ground, there.”
She went to pick it up for him, but he swooped down before she had the chance and deposited it on his head. On a good day he didn’t have the patience for her, but right now he was feeling downright venomous.
“So-“
“Leave it.”
His words were final, tone brokering no argument. That was the only bit of grace he’d give her- one more word and his reply would be a bullet. She understood, could see the tension in his stance and gave him the space he desired.
But it wasn’t space he wanted.
It was you.
It was your voice, so gentle and melodic.
It was your touch, sweet and resolute- full of heat, of passion, of something that resembled life.
Instead, he got the cold, hard ground and a head full of vicious thoughts. Why did you plague his thoughts the way you did? Why did you make him feel so fucking human?
He didn’t want to.
Didn’t want that, any of it.
Not the fucking feelings, not the guilt, not the stupid fucking spark of hope in his cold, dead heart.
Let Cooper Howard die.
But it wasn’t that simple.
All of the anger in the world couldn’t turn his affection for you to hatred. It was a stubborn thing, and a solid one. No amount of pressure could bend it. He’d just learned to live with it- a deficiency he’d carry for the rest of his miserable time on Earth.
He fell to the ground there, not bothering with getting comfortable, almost like it was a punishment. Truth be told, he didn’t have the fight in his veins anymore, didn’t wish to have to struggle to get comfortable.
He was ready to lie down and accept what he earned.
His eyes slipped shut, and though the vault dweller fell into a light sleep easily, he could not. His mind simply wouldn’t stop, kept replaying that look in your eyes.
What did it mean?
Did you hate him?
He wouldn’t blame you, could never fault you for hating the monstrous thing he’d become. He’d bet you’d have fallen in love with him before- Cooper Howard, the gentleman.
That was the kind of thing you deserved, the kind of life he’d dreamt about with you.
He’d love you in those dreams, so unconditionally and flawlessly, with no restraint or regret. He’d praised the ground you walked on, and would cherish every moment he had with you.
Not now.
He couldn’t love that way, not anymore- didn’t want to, didn’t remember how, if he were honest.
There was a quiet, tempered crunch of sand, a boot moving slowly towards him.
He knew those steps though, knew that it was you who approached him. He kept his eyes shut, curious as to what your intent was.
If you killed him, so be it.
“Cooper,” you breathed.
It was a prayer, an admission, and a promise. He didn’t reply, didn’t even crack open an eye, just listened with all the ravenous hunger of a starving man, hoping you would say more.
You didn’t.
A shadow casted from behind his lids as you knelt down, reminiscent of earlier, but of your own volition. This wasn’t with rage, with an animalistic hunger.
This was with compassion, with something that resembled fondness.
A soft exhale left your parted lips, and if he imagined hard enough, he could see the expression you wore. It was kind, open- something he rarely saw anymore.
A weight settled on his chest then, your head pressed snug against the tattered shirt he wore. An arm wrapped around his middle, holding him close to your warmth. The words you spoke in then sounded lyrical, more natural than anything you’d ever said before.
He didn’t know the meaning, wasn’t even sure what language it was- but a heat emanated from the feather he’d tucked into his chest pocket, and he understood that it was you sharing a piece of yourself.
He listened to the beating of his own heart, the slowing of your breaths, as he felt a peace wash over himself that he thought was long gone.
There, in the dim glow of a worn lantern, with the most beautiful soul he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting tucked into his side, Cooper Howard emerged- the man he was- if only for a moment.
Tags: @lacontroller1991 @giggle-shade
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chainzzzzsaw · 2 days
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help i wrote something but its so bad and makes no sense i need someone to read it and help me 💀💀💀
(its soukoku angst:3)
(also tw for suicide)
. . .
He was having a panic attack, he couldn't breathe. He felt like he was drowning in the air that was far too humid to ever be comfortable in. His head was buried between his knees as he took harsh breaths through his nose and out through his mouth. In and out. He repeated to himself silently in his head. As he began hyperventilating, he felt cold water droplets fall down on his head, soaking his hair and the nature around him.
He was sitting in the grove of a dying tree in a place where only he and Chuuya knew about. They had gone here together years ago before Dazai had left the Port Mafia. He hasn’t been here in 4 years, so why was he here now?
He heard a crunch of dead leaves down the path he had come down. His eyes filled up with his own water droplets as he heard his name being called by the one boy he truly felt something for. “Dazai..?” It sounded muffled, like he was listening through a low quality video. He wasn't actually there. He felt dissociative. He wasn't there, but he was, and this was happening. He heard his name again, “Dazai!” followed by a tap on the shoulder. He couldn’t answer. Dazai lifted his head up and stared into Chuuya’s cold azure eyes. The longer he stared, the longer he felt his eyes and heart betray himself.
His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. It had been 4 whole years since he had last seen Chuuya, 4 whole years of his love stored inside him, did Chuuya feel the same about Dazai all this time? Why was Chuuya here now?
These were the thoughts that dashed from the left side of Dazai’s brain to the right side.
The tears that had been daring to leak out of Dazai’s eyes, had already started to come out, yet he didn't realize. The water drained out of his eyes, competing in a race to the end of Dazai’s face. Chuuya pulled Dazai up off the, now wet, dirt and said something. He didn't seem to hear it though. The rain began spilling over both of their faces now, mingling with Dazai’s tears that were still flowing.
As he felt himself slowly come back to reality, he realized Chuuya’s arm was holding his wrist, right on his bandages. He looked down, and Chuuya dropped it. “Why are you here? Why right now?” Dazai said with a whine, his voice feeling shaky, which was something that never happened to Dazai. “I always come here. I always come here and I wait for the day that you come back.” Chuuya responded almost as if he was breathless.
He felt every memory he had with Chuuya come directly back to him, stabbing him in the heart relentlessly. “Huh…” It almost came out in a whisper. Did Chuuya want Dazai to come back?
“Dazai. I- I can't just pretend like I haven't been thinking about you every day since you left… I was in love with you. That isn't something that just goes away with time.” Chuuya rambled on, but Dazai just stood there. He couldn't process what Chuuya was saying when he was talking so fast, he was going over every word in his head, but he was stuck on that word he heard.
Love.
I was in love with you.
Chuuya’s words replayed in his mind like a horrible song you can't get out of your head. It flew into his ear, and then through his mind, stabbing into his heart, and back out again, over and over.
He loved Chuuya too, he just couldn't say it. The words wouldn't come out of his mouth. Like an answer you know but you just can’t remember.
“Me? Why me? I’m not good.” Dazai didn’t even know what he was saying, better yet, he didn’t even know he was talking.
“Because you're Dazai.”
Dazai’s hands slowly brought themselves to the sides of Chuuya’s face. Chuuya flinched at the touch. He hesitated to speak, he couldn’t show vulnerability, even with Chuuya. What was wrong with Dazai? Couldn’t he let go of his pride for one second and just say that he loved him back?
Chuuya’s hands now rested upon Dazai’s, which were lazily placed on his face. He didn’t know when either of them started to lean in, but they did, and their lips touched briefly. Dazai felt his tears roll down his face even as they shared a kiss. They both pulled away from each other, wide eyed, and Dazai dropped his hands.
“…Woah.” Chuuya whispered. “Um… Uh… I’m sorry.” Dazai had guilt lingering in his voice. They hadn't even talked about how they felt for each other and here they were, kissing, after not seeing each other for 4 years?!
Dazai had a gut feeling that this wouldn’t go how he wanted it to. He wanted them to be together, stuck like glue as they once were years ago. But he knew that wouldn’t happen, not after everything he’s done, not with his current mental state.
The silence was unbearable, it consumed them both. Eating all the words they wanted to say until there was nothing left at all.
Dazai is scared to love Chuuya, he knows he brings pain to all of those around him. The misfortune and pain he has following him like a cloud is not something he wishes to push onto the one person he has learned to love. He doesn’t wish to burden him with the pressure of his feelings.
“I'm sorry…”
And with that, Dazai quickly pushed past him and jogged down the path and back to his apartment. Chuuya chased after him, not knowing what else to do, but he lost him along the way. He at least knew where Dazai lived because, as one does, he did some light stalking over the years they were apart.
. . .
Dazai had finally made it home after 10 long minutes of looking behind him to see if Chuuya had followed. Spoiler, he hadn’t. Dazai didn’t know if he was happy or disappointed about that, but right now it didn't matter to him.
His thoughts progressively got worse as he unlocked the door, stepping in quickly and dragging himself to his room. He bent down to his drawer, he felt his legs burn.
His fingers rummaged through the random items he had thrown in it, obviously searching for something. He pulled out his blade, sighing deeply, and then his eyes met the bottle of Prozac laying on the corner of his dresser, quickly snatching it up.
He didnt know which to use, but if he couldn’t choose between them, why not just use both?
And so he did. Dazai grasped both the blade and the pills, preparing himself for yet another suicide attempt. It wasn’t a foreign concept to him, as he constantly planned new methods to end his life and courageously attempted them. Dazai held a desperate hope, a wish, that one day, one of his attempts would succeed, granting him freedom from the burdensome chains of existence. He knew his attempts were always futile, yet he clung to a glimmer of hope, praying that this time, just maybe, it would be different.
He picked up the bottle of prozac and held it in his left hand, the blade in his right. His thoughts were flooding his mind and battling with each other. He felt so much regret filling his heart of all the things he didn’t do with Chuuya, the things he couldn’t do.
Dazai flung the blade and the bottle of pills onto his bed before making his way to the kitchen. He retrieved a glass and filled it to the brim with tap water. Returning to his bedroom, he carelessly dropped the cup onto his dresser. With a hesitant hand, he opened the bottle of Prozac, pouring an excess of pills into his palm. He hesitated, his hand hovering near his mouth, reluctant to ingest them.
Dazai wanted to die, he always has, it's what he's known for. So why was he hesitating? Was it because of Chuuya?
Dazai liked being in control, he hated that his mind was a slave to his heart.
He tried his best to ignore his thoughts and dropped the handful of pills into his mouth and swallowed them quickly, using the water as a chaser to get them down his throat.
He was a bit more dizzy than he had been before. He picked up the blade and held it vertically on his wrist. He took a deep breath and pressed down hard into his wrist, wincing as he dragged the blade down his forearm. He repeated the same action on his other arm, blood was now dripping down onto the floor in puddles.
He sat down on the floor with his back against his bed, using the rest of the energy he had left to cut anywhere else that would contribute to a successful attempt because he knew well that there was always a way to survive any suicide attempt.
His neck?
Dazai’s neck was leaking like a waterfall, spilling all over his shirt. He felt himself drifting in and out of consciousness. His eyes felt heavy. He knew this would be the attempt that brought him to that oh so peaceful deep sleep that is death.
What Dazai didn’t know is that Chuuya was on his way right now, passing through numerous red lights just to get to him. The first thing that Chuuya would see when he came into Dazai’s room, is Dazai’s body being drained of the life that was left inside of him. That thought alone gave his heart a squeeze.
He thinks he heard banging at his front door, maybe he's just delirious. Was Dazai dissociating again? The banging got even louder and then it stopped and a louder bang came shortly after with a crash following. The door was knocked down, Ha, it’s Chuuya.
Dazai heard his name being called along with heavy footsteps, but there was nothing he could do to answer. His skin was as pale as paper and his clothes were drenched in his own blood.
Chuuya kicked into Dazai’s room and saw his body, bleeding out. Dazai felt himself smile.
“I- wh — Dazai-” He fumbled on his words. Chuuya felt like he couldn’t move, he felt stuck. He was tearing up, his eyes now cloudy. He forced his body to move and brought his hands around Dazai.
Chuuya looked into Dazai’s empty brown eyes and felt sick, his hands trembling. Their eyes locked and Dazai’s smile immediately faded and his face turned into something akin to frantic.
Dazai had just realized that maybe he didn’t want to die. At least, not now.
Something about looking into eyes that were burning with life while he was about to run out of his own did something to him. Dazai felt his body slowly slipping away with each faint breath he tried to take in. Water began piling up on his lash line once again.
His lungs were begging for air and he felt lightheaded. Dazai was going to die now. He had slit his wrists, neck, and took way more prozac than any doctor would ever recommend.
Chuuya’s hands were holding onto Dazai, he was saying something but Dazai couldn’t hear it. A black veil began clouding over his vision and Dazai knew what that meant. He wanted to open his eyes, stop dying for a second so he could tell Chuuya what he’s been wanting to say since the day they met.
The last thing he heard was muffled yelling and a phone ringing.
. . .
Dazai’s eyes finally opened, but he wasn’t with Chuuya and he wasn’t in a hospital. He had finally succeeded at something, but death was something he no longer craved.
Whenever Dazai was with Chuuya, all his thoughts of suicide seemed to float away. When Dazai was with Chuuya, he didn’t have to worry about anything. When Dazai was with Chuuya, he wanted to try living. Chuuya was the lightbulb in Dazai’s dark room.
Dazai's life had always seemed bleak in Chuuya's absence. The fleeting moments of genuine happiness he experienced were intertwined with memories of Oda and Chuuya. With Oda gone and now Dazai's own passing, those moments felt even more distant.
Dazai now found himself overwhelmed by his emotions, their intensity hitting him like crashing waves. These waves, reminiscent of water, stirred memories of the cold blue hue of Chuuya's eyes.
help idk if im done with this but idk what to add.. i just hate this but i need input from others it feels so rushed to me
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bogan-mac · 2 months
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yellowjackets-1996 · 6 months
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I WANNA SEE THE DIRT UNDER YOUR SKIN; I NEED YOUR BROKEN PROMISES.
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icharchivist · 2 years
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it’s funny when i was a teen i was not following mainstream stuff because i was deep into ~i’m not like the other teens~ (and just liked stuff that weren’t mainstream anyway) but nowadays my biggest argument to not follow mainstream is that we turned every big things into pure FOMO where if you don’t watch something big right away you will know everything about it in the couple of months that follow and it will suck any enjoyement out of it if you decide to watch it later and it’s honestly pretty depressing.
#and i don't mean like knowing vague spoilers#i'm going to watch the new Thor for a bonding activity#i don't really care about Marvel and skipped all of phase 3 and half of phase 2 and 4#but it became a bonding activity to watch the newest  movies even though i have very little interest#i figured i should at least watch the 3rd Thor that i skipped in case i needed it and all#and i remember reading some interesting takes about it#but it was legitimately depressing to just have the feeling i've seen every single thing in gifset#there was genuinely nothing that i thought 'oh i didnt see that before'#the movie is objectively okay with better themes and directing than most mcumovies#and i came out of it underwhelmed because i saw all of it before#and idk it's sad as hell#i've also been feeling it for like. TV shows i am just midly interested in that i'm forced to bing on release date#like holy shit this is not the type of emotional involvement i want with those shows they're not engaging enough for this#(at least to me personally it doesn't talk about quality because the stuff i love the most qualify as trashy)#and it genuinely annoys me that i have to pour the same energy into mainstream stuff i only slightly care about#than i would pour into stuff i truly love#like when the new S/tranger t/hing season came out at the same time i wanted to follow up the last update in one of my mobage#i'm mostly following mindlessly and i don't care enough about it esp not how ppl talk about it online#but i had to postpone something i really wanted to read bc i was already seeing major spoilers online#and i think it's a shame that a show based on suspense get its spoilers everywhere on day One#i've spent yeas fighting the edgelord in me always saying i didn't care about mainstream just because i don't 'care for normies'#but now i'm circling back to it on the account of 'it makes social media unbearable and makes it sounds like homework and it sucks'#so yeah pretty sad i'm becoming an edgelord again that's it#ichasalty#ichatalks
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wishful-seeker · 8 months
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Tips on how to avoid being unintentionally ableist
1. When a disabled person says they cannot do something, and you wish to offer solutions, do not make a solution that involves them powering through pain, or something thats not accessible to the disabled.
Example:
Disabled person: "washing dishes hurts too much and i cannot do it."
Abled person: "what if you did one dish at a time throughout the day?"
This statement is not respecting that this disabled person just said they "can't". Always respect that. No matter how simple the task would be for you.
Disabled person:" i think ill use plastic silverware so i don't make dishes."
Abled person: "plastic is bad for the environment!"
This statement shuts down the most accessible and disabled friendly option that this disabled person can actually do because of the abled persons personal beliefs. This is not helpful, and ableist.
Better yet, instead of offering solutions, ask them directly "is there anything you need that you do not have that would help you do this?" This allows the disabled person to think about what would work, and they will always have a better idea of what would work than you do.
To add on to this, when we say we have no more energy to solve a problem or do a task, or change our lifestyle, we mean it.
2. If you feel discomfort when a disabled person is talking about their health, good and bad, that is ableist. Your discomfort is coming from a place that deams disabled peoples very existence as a bad thing and you need to fix that.
For example:
Disabled person:" this week has been rough pain wise, ive been through a lot, felt like my body was on fire. Lucky i got new meds though and i think they're helping!"
Abled person: "can we talk about something else, this is a bummer."
Disabled people should be able to exist freely without worrying about your personal comfort. Do you really think its appropriate to tell someone in constant pain that their life is making YOU uncomfortable?
3. Do not treat disabled people as tragedies, do not romanticize their old life or put their current one down.
For example:
Disabled person: "yeah my life is pretty difficult sometimes, ive lost a lot but i still have happy moments."
Abled person: "it makes me so sad to see what disabled people go through :(. You used to love rock climbing and running, i would love to see you move around more again."
This statement is putting more value on the disabled persons abled past, and ignoring their life as a whole.
4. Do not avoid speaking to disabled people because it hurts to see your loved one disabled.
For example: my grandmother avoids conversations with me because it hurts her to see me in pain. While she has good intentions it leaves me being unable to be close to her. This is very isolating to the disabled.
5. Do not stop inviting your disabled friend/loved one out even if they are never well enough to attend. Unless we specifically ask you to stop asking if we can go out, good chances are we want to know you still care because again, disability is very isolating.
6. When a disabled person says certain things in their health have gotten better or worse, do not challenge this because you don't see a difference.
For example:
Disabled person: "yeah things are getting a little better"
Abled person sees disabled person using their wheelchair like usual: "i thought you said you were getting better?"
Better and worse are usually small changes only the disabled experience, its not like abled people healing from a broken arm. Better to a disabled person could mean they can stand for 10 more minutes.
7. Do not expect disabled people to ever be abled again, and again, do not put more value on an abled life.
For example:
Disabled person:"I have been using a wheelchair for 2 years."
Abled person: "oh you're young, im sure you'll be walking around in no time!"
This statement invalidates and ignores the disabled persons current life by hoping they get a more abled bodied life. Its fine to hope disabled people get better, but you don't get to decide what better looks like.
Hope this helps, stay punk.
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harryshomebaby · 1 year
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this is literally the worst i've ever felt in my life and i have to leave for work in 20 minutes
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straawberries · 4 months
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I AM GOING TO BE KICKED OUT IN 6 MONTHS AND I AM NOT MAKING MONEY FAST ENOUGH TO BE ABLE TO AVOID HOMELESSNESS
hey girls its me again. ill.. try to keep this brief? as brief as i can atleast.
if you havent seen my previous posts, hi, my name is delilah, im an autistic transgirl system with ptsd thats living in an abusive household where im barely fed and am constantly miserable, and to top it all off, the second my birthday hits on JUNE 1 2024, i am going to be kicked out. i want to make around $2000 dollars before then, but i only have about $350 right now. at my current rate, i wont be able to reach my goal, and i dont know how im going to get housing if i dont. to repeat in big text so people pay attention:
if i do not get about $1700 more in donations before june 1 2024, i am going to be homeless.
im trying.. really hard to not give up but its looking bleak. because i live in a small town in texas where everyone knows that im an autistic trans loser, ive been unable to get a job, and ive been forced to do this. i dont enjoy being forced to rely on other people's kindness, but its the best and atp really the only option i have.
C*SH*PP - @delilahswagga
P*YP*L - @delilahkill
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i make pixel art too! dm me if youre interested, i do most things including furries/anthros, humans, chibi/dolls, backgrounds and scenes, and small animations
a lot of scams claiming things like this have been going around, so ill talk about myself some. click the readmore if you want to read that.
i have a really big love for performing, i fell in love with theatre years ago and performed the addams family musical as fester about a month ago as my biggest role on stage yet, and right now im in the process of getting ready for antigone as teiresius. i love music, and its one of my life goals to learn as many instruments as possible, and currently i own quite a few, though my favorites are my two ukuleles and my super cool electric guitar. i have 8 partners at the moment, and i have a very big desire to one day live with as many of them as i can. i pride myself on being the best partner i can be, and its been my goal to make all my partner's lives better (and i think ive been doing a good job at it :3)
i love cats an extreme amount, ive never had a cat myself (because my dad is insane and hates cats and tries to hit cats with his truck) but being around cats makes me super happy and always makes my anxieties go away, even when im having an anxiety attack or a panic attack. i really hope i can get a few cats one day, and i want to give them all silly food names :) my fursona is kind of a reflection of that, her name is bagel. some cat names ive thought of are mochi, chili, Supreme Pizza, or maybe french fry :)
im not sure if ill be able to achieve any of my goals if i dont get the financial support i need. ive been.. really close to giving up recently, but i dont want to have to do that, so im going to fight like this for as long as i can.
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reidmotif · 2 months
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For the Love of Lace
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Summary: Reader decides she doesn't want to pine for her best friend, Spencer, anymore, but still needs his help deciding what lingerie to wear for her upcoming date.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: breast and nipple play, fingering (r!receiving), lingerie talk, unprotected penetrative sex, no implied breast size, couch sex, best friends to lovers, possessive Spencer
Word Count: 3.7k
Masterlist
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Pining for your best friend definitely has its lows. There’s a certain sense of pathetic-ness that comes about when your friend is simply speaking, and your mind is occupied with the yearning to bridge the gap of distance between you two, and kiss them senseless. I think perhaps the biggest low that I’d hit, however, in the two years I’d been pining for Spencer Reid was the sexual frustration that came with being unable to see myself with anyone else. 
I’d never meant for it to play out like this. I thought it was an innocent crush, a byproduct of all the time we’d managed to spend with each other divulging into our personal lives and sharing the ordinary comings of the day together. However, there came a point where I looked at him and could see my future laid out so perfectly with him. A future of love, and laughter, and God, so much sex.  And no matter what I’d tried, the thought was too good to let go. 
It didn’t help that not only was he oblivious, he clearly didn’t return my affections. There were no signs of longing that I could deduce from his actions, and I’d decided to be reasonable about this. His actions were always remnant of a good friend, but a lover? No. There were no longing stares. No stolen brushes of fingers, or hushed whispers. It seemed that anything romantic about our relationship only emanated from my fantasies of what I wish we could be. 
And so here I was, unable to get past the mental block of wanting anyone as much, and it’d resulting in a long, exasperating two-year stint of celibacy. And Jesus, did it show. The tiniest thing Spencer did would set me off in a frenzy, and it left me feeling nearly perverted at a certain point. There’d been a day that he ran his finger down a page, attempting to locate a passage to display to me and all I could think about was how badly I wanted that finger in me. My mouth. Me. Anything. And then I realized I was lusting over my best friend’s hand, and considered the possibility of this being a serious problem on my end. 
My only block to getting laid was my own self.  And I certainly didn’t relish in the debauchery I’d clearly stooped low enough to indulge in, and so it was decided. This Valentine’s Day? I wasn’t going to watch rom-coms and wonder if Spencer and I could ever have a happy ending like them.
 I was going to man up, and go on a date. Easier said than done. 
I’d found the date, that bit was easy enough. Trying to find someone to hook-up with on Valentine’s Day is like trying to find sand on a beach. Plentiful and simple. 
What wasn’t easy? Feeling ready for it. I hadn’t been like that with anyone for nearly two years, and found myself worrying that my sexual skills had deteriorated with lack of practice, even though the thought was rooted in some ridiculous notions about myself. I knew that logically the sex would be fine, and hopefully, exactly what I needed to get over Spencer, but still. I wanted to ensure the best possible experience. 
I found myself going through the motions of date preparation. A manicure and pedicure. A facial. I even bought a fancier perfume to wear the night of. And of course, a trip to procure some new lingerie for the night. 
I’d always been indecisive, and with the choices presented in the shop, I found myself overwhelmed. I’d decided and picked up 3 possible pieces, and instead of determining between them whilst buying, I bought all of them, with the intention that I’d be able to make a choice in the comfort of my own home. 
Except now, it’d been a week, my date was tomorrow, and I still couldn’t figure out what would work for me. All three were equally as appealing, but which one was the best? The question haunted me, and continued to  haunt me as Spencer and I hung out. Despite my date tomorrow, I’d promised to keep up our tradition of binging episodes of Star Trek on Friday night together, except my head was clearly elsewhere, which he quickly noticed. 
Damn profiler best friend. 
“Alright, what’s up with you?” Spencer asks, reaching for the remote and pausing on some random frame of Spock’s face, the show taking less precedence than my lack of attention. 
I sigh apologetically, quirking my mouth to the side. “I’m sorry, Spence.” I say, taking a deep breath. “Just a lot on my mind.” 
Spencer tilts his head, his expression a little more worried. “Something important?” 
I shake my head quickly, not wanting to disclose the reasoning for my distraction tonight. Especially to him, considering my date tonight had the sole purpose of me getting over the man currently sat to my right. 
“No, no.” I say, softly. “Just.. stuff.” I voiced, quickly.
“Stuff?” Spencer inquires. 
“Stuff.” I affirm. 
Now it’s his turn to sigh, making a slight groaning noise whilst he did so. “Come on. I’ve known you for years. I know there’s something on your mind, and it’s clearly distracting you, so.. Please? Tell me?” He asks, giving me those eyes. A look that would make anyone weak in the knees. 
I find myself hesitating, and bite my lip, and in the end, it’s the way he’s looking at me that does me in. I opt to stay vague, but give him a bit more insight into my wandering thoughts. 
“My date tomorrow? I don’t know what to wear.” I say, shrugging. “It’s not very important, but I want to make it work, you know?” I continue. 
“Why don’t you just show me your dress then?” Spencer inquires. “I’m not a fashion expert, but it’s not like I’m unable to have taste.” 
I laugh a little self consciously, shaking my head quickly. “Oh no, no. It’s not a dress. It’s okay, Spencer. I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.” 
“Shoes? C’mon! I’m your best friend. I’d do anything for you.” He protests, coming closer to me now. 
“Not shoes.” I say, still shaking my head. “And no! I mean, seriously. There are some things you can’t do for me, and it’s fine. I’m fine.” 
“Jewelry? Hair? Makeup?” He implores continuously. “I’m all ears.” 
I realize there’s no way in hell he’s ever going to let this go, so I blurt out with little thought, “It’s lingerie!” 
He goes a bit quiet in thought, and then raises an eyebrow. “And that poses a problem?” He asks, softly. 
I blink a little. Yes. Of course that’s  a problem. I love you so much that it makes me feel weak, and I can’t be even more vulnerable in front of you. Not like that. 
But instead I shrug, running my hands through my hair. 
“I just.. Wouldn’t that be weird?” I say, hesitantly. 
“Not really.” Spencer replies, nonchalantly. “You’re my best friend. And I want to help you in any way I can. Nakedness doesn’t really bother me, and if it doesn’t bother you, I’d love to help you decide.” 
“Spencer..” I mumbled, still incredibly hesitant. 
“I’m your best friend!” Spencer articulates. “And logically, I can provide you with insight that only another guy could give.” He points out. “In a purely platonic, and logical sense.” 
I had to give him credit for that. It’s true. Spencer did have insight that none of my friends could provide, and I’d always entrusted him in helping me make decisions for myself and my life. And honestly, it was starting to get suspicious with how much I’d been objecting to this. The man had helped me decide bikinis, clubbing dresses- this couldn’t be any more different, could it? 
“Okay. Okay. Fine.” I give him a resigned nod, getting off the couch. “Alright. Wait here.”
He plants himself more firmly on the couch, his eyes trained on where I’d disappeared into my room, rummaging through the shopping bag until I’d found the first lingerie piece. 
It was a simple black lace bra and matching panties. The bottoms were a bit cheekier than a normal pair of underwear, and my legs were on display in full. My hair framed my pushed-up breasts, and I looked at myself in the mirror, slightly self-conscious at the fact that I was about to present myself this way to Spencer. 
How did I get into this mess? 
I slowly twist the doorknob, calling out to him. “Spencer! I’m coming out with the first one.” 
“I’m here.” is his reply, and I know he’s waiting, and so I slowly push open the door and come out in the light, a little more in his view. I give a half-hearted 360 degree turn, and look at him. 
“So?” I ask, my eyes finally meeting his, but the sight I’m met with is a lot different than the one I’m expecting. He’s slightly red in the face, his hands fidgeting in his lap- quite different from the more composed version I’d seen of him. 
“Is there something wrong?” I ask, quickly, feeling even more vulnerable as I stood there, half naked in front of a blushing man. 
“No, no!” He sputters. “I’m sorry. This is normal.” He gulps a bit and gives me a quick once over. “Sorry, I’ll be normal.” He clears his throat again and nods more definitively. “This one is nice. It’s simple.” He replies, as diplomatically as I’ve heard him. “Black works well with your skin and hair, and I feel like it brings out your eyes.” 
I nod, biting my lip. “Anything I could do to make it.. more than nice?” I queried. 
He narrows his eyes in thought.  “It’s already really, really nice, but I feel like stockings, or even a garter would even the attention from your breasts, more to your legs- which already look really nice, by the way.” 
It's my turn to blush and I nod quickly. “Stockings, got it.” I say. I blow out a breath of air. “One down, two to go.” I say, absentmindedly. 
“Better go back and try the other two, then.” Spencer says, with a smile. 
I attempt to return his smile and disappear back into my room, putting on the next piece. It was red, and a bit more showy than my previous piece. It was a criss-cross, cut-out lingerie. Lines of maroon fabric danced around my skin in a way that exposed the curve of my breasts, and connected to a simple, red thong. I walked out quicker than last time, a little less nervous now that the initial nervousness of appearing naked in front of him had faded. 
Despite my nervousness fading, it seemed like his had only increased. I’d only caught a glimpse of it in my hurried departure from my room to his line of sight, but had he.. been adjusting his crotch area?
 No. No. I mean, maybe he was turned on, but that was a completely normal reaction to a half-naked girl in front of a man. To my knowledge, Spencer hadn’t dated anyone in 2 years either, so it was completely possible he also had pent-up desires. This was normal. Spencer Reid did not feel the same way for me, not in the same way as I did for him. 
He quickly looks up and his hands are by his side in record speed. “This one is.. Wow.” He marvels, his eyes boring into my body. “Your breasts. They look great.” 
I can’t help the giggle that escapes me, a part of me secretly delighted that even if this was friendly, Spencer was enamored with my body in the way I’d always wished he would be. 
“Was that too much?” Spencer questions, upon hearing my laugh. “I’m only being honest. Your breasts look nice in this one. My eyes immediately went there with this piece.” 
I smile. “No, no. That’s what I need from you, anyway. That’s what I want my date to do too, anyway.” I say, dismissing his worries. 
“Right. Your date.” He says, curtly. 
I raise an eyebrow at the snippy reply, but don’t think much of it. “So.. the last one then?” 
“Yep. The last one.” 
“Right..” I mumble, going back to my room, slightly confused by the sudden change in demeanor, but ready to get this over with nonetheless. 
The last piece was a lot more revealing, in the sense that my nipples were exposed from the get-go with this one. A lavender slip, with transparent lace covering the breasts, and the silky fabric stopping right below my crotch. It was a bit more daring, but I still enjoyed the way it framed my curves, my hips, and my breasts. I wondered what Spencer would think, and out of modesty, I placed both my hands over my nipples, wanting to show the lingerie without fully exposing myself to him. 
I walk out, and this time, his gaze is intense. More so than I’d ever seen him in our years of friendship. 
“Spence..?” I ask, when he’s silent for a beat too long.
“Turn around.” He says, firmly, and I find myself listening instantly, baring my back to him, and no doubt he’s focusing on the way the fabric wrapped around my ass, leaving me slightly flustered and more on display than I’d ever felt tonight. 
“Spencer? Come on. Say something. Feeling a bit like cattle right now.” I voice, laughing a little nervously.
When I hear his voice again, I nearly jump out of my skin because he’s right behind me, his hands ghosting across my bare shoulders. 
“Don’t go.” He whispers, his hot breath fanning around my neck, sending shivers up my spine. 
I’m too nervous to turn around, so I keep my hands planted firmly on my breasts and murmur out my confusion. 
“What?” 
“Don’t go.” He repeats, more firmly this time, and I can feel his hand moving to grip my hip, orienting me to face him. “Please.” 
“Why not?” I ask, softly, my eyes wide as I try to read his expression. His pupils were dilated to the size of saucers, and I could feel his hands moving to cup my face, bringing us even closer. 
“I’d be an idiot to have not at least tried.” He whispers. “I’m sorry for doing this now. I’m sorry if this ruins everything. But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.” 
I feel my confusion bubbling up, my eyebrows furrowing a little bit. “Why.. what is this? Is this because of the lingerie?” I ask, my lips parting slightly. 
“No. God no.” I can see him emphatically shaking his head at my rumination. “This has been coming for a long time.” He murmurs. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t. I can’t physically stand the thought of someone worshiping you the way I’d like to.” He rasps out, and I feel my heart jump, my breath coming out faster. 
When I’m silent, unable to respond,  his fingers run across my lips. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers. 
I nod, and it’s like he’s been waiting all night, and then some. His grip on my face tightens and he brings me in for a searing, earth-shattering kiss. His lips move over mine desperately, and I feel his grip shifting to bring my hands off my breasts, and to replace them with his own, his hands now pawing and squeezing at the flesh, which draws a soft moan from me. 
He throws his head back at the noise, leaning to kiss my neck. “Fuck yes.” He mumbles, seemingly goaded on by the noises slipping through my lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans out, to no one in particular, just wanting to get the words out there somehow. 
I nod rapidly, and his hands are on my hips again, guiding me to the couch and laying me down. I move easily in his grasp,  a slight gasp escaping me as he climbs on top. His thumb goes to graze my jaw, leaning in for another kiss. It’s less rushed this time, slow and passionate. His tongue darts out to swipe over my bottom lip, and I open my mouth easily for him, reveling in the sweetness of how he tasted. 
He breaks off the kiss and moves down, kissing my breast between the lace. His tongue goes out to wet the fabric, and I’m arching my back at the sensation of the rough lace and the warm wetness now rubbing against the sensitive skin.
“You taste so good.” He mumbles. “God. Why did I wait so long?” 
“No clue.” I whimper out, desperately. “But don’t stop.” 
“I’m not stopping.” He says, gruffly, moving to bunch up the fabric of the slip until it pooled around my waist, exposing my dripping cunt to him. 
“I can’t stand the thought of another man touching you like this.” He whispers, his finger running up and down my wet folds, causing me to moan out needily. 
“Shh, shh, baby.” He murmurs. “You’ll get what you want soon enough.” 
Without warning, he easily slides two fingers inside me, and I can’t help but wonder if he was made for me. Given the way he effortlessly reached that spongy spot so deep inside me, I was compelled to say yes. The action prompted me to release a string of desperate moans and whimpers, increasing in octave with every second he pumped the digits in and out of me. 
“Yeah, you like that?” He mumbles, almost entranced with the way my cunt was sucking him in, tightening around his finger with each second he continued. 
“Yes. Yes, oh God.” I moan out, my eyes squeezing shut. 
“Open your eyes.” he demands, his thumb now darting out to rub harsh, tight circles on my clit. “I want to see your face when you come on my fingers.” 
My eyes snap open, and I can’t help it when I release another moan and feel my orgasm absolutely shred through me. My hips raise in an attempt to move off Spencer’s fingers, but he manages to follow my movement, nursing me through my orgasm, and watching every second of it. 
When it's over, he removes his finger and brings it up to his lips, sensually tasting my release right in front of me, never breaking eye contact- and the sight itself makes me need him all over again. 
I pull him in by the collar of his shirt, and my hands move to remove his buttons, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He laughs a bit and admonishes me, removing my shaky fingers. 
“Let me.” He mumbles, leaning back between my spread legs, and removing the clothing, before moving to his belt. 
I bite my lip as he hovers over me, and kiss him again. I can’t get enough of him. He’s all I wanted for so long, and here he is- mirroring my desire in the way I’d always hoped he would. 
“No man-” He breathes out, in between kisses, “could do this for you.” 
I nod in affirmation, continuing to kiss him. No argument there. 
“No man deserves to.” He adds, possessively, and it’s enough to make me clench around nothing, and I know at that point I’m more desperate for him than I had been the whole night. 
“Spence, please.” I groan out. “Need you.” 
He understands immediately and wastes no time, pulling himself out from his boxers, giving himself a few tugs before pushing inside of me, groaning as he feels my warm, wet walls grasp onto his cock. 
He remains there for a second, allowing me to adjust to his size. When he looks at my face again, and I nod, he starts to move, pulling out until only his tip remains inside of me, before slamming in. My jaw drops in a silent scream, and my hands go to grip his shoulders, and with the confirmation I was enjoying myself, he set on a ruthless pace, snapping his hips over, and over again, until I was reduced to a babbling mess in front of the man. 
He’s all I can feel at this point. His hands on my breasts, my hips, before he eventually rests both hands on either side of me and envelops me in his being. I can smell him, and the familiar scent only serves to tighten the coil in my stomach, reminding me that this was someone I’d loved so deeply for so long. Someone who was interwoven into the fiber of my being, and I know this is all I want, and all I’ll ever want. 
As we both feel our releases coming on at an alarming pace, he leans up to kiss me one more time, moaning against my mouth. I feel myself whimper before I feel my walls contract around his cock, my orgasm causing my back to arch even closer to him. The clamping of my cunt seems to drive him to finish too, and a warmth fills my deepest point as he groans into my ear, pulling out and lying against me. The two of us are panting, sweat sticking to both of our bodies and hair, lost in the post-sex haze and enjoying the proximity. 
He kisses my jaw and I giggle out and give a soft moan. “God.” I whisper. 
“Yeah.” He murmurs against my skin, and I can feel his smile. “Are you canceling your date then?” He says, a slight bit of glee in his voice. 
I giggle a little, finding his delight adorable and endearing. “Yes, Spencer. Obviously.” I murmur. 
“Good.” He whispers, laying his head on my chest. There’s a lull of quiet as my hands stroke through his hair, smoothing it out from our illicit activities just a moment ago. I can hear his grin as he breaks the silence. 
“Guess you could say I liked this piece the best.” 
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hiii!! omg. this took a while. yes this is more of a valentines day fic and its a bit late but hey!! got it out in february. this was actually written for @imagining-in-the-margins new beginnings challenge, so go ahead and check that out when you can. i hope you guys like this one. as usual, please reblog, like, comment, and show your support any way you can. thank you for reading, and i hope it was enjoyable <333 ty ty ty!!
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rose-lalondde · 1 year
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finally updating my sims game after 2 months of not doing that
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queen-of-deans-booty · 3 months
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Across Every Universe
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Warnings: fluff
Request by anon: Hey Jordan, can i request something where Dean Winchester always have a crush on the reader but never said something to her until one day Sam and Dean are transported (based on the episode French Mistake) and Dean actor Jensen and is married to the reader of the universe and she pass the whole day giving Dean hug and kisses because for everyone is Jensen. When Dean and Sam came back to their universe him and the reader start dating? Fluff 
Summary: Sam and Dean are taken back to the same place where Dean is known as Jensen Ackles and Sam as Jared Padalecki. This little trip makes Dean realize his feelings for you.
Square Filled: "god, if only you knew what you did to me" (2023) for @spnaubingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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x
No matter the position you’re in, you’re not comfortable. It doesn’t matter if you lie down on your side, your back, or your stomach. Not to mention the heater isn’t working in the Bunker so it’s very cold. You have three blankets over you while wearing long sleeves and pajama pants. The broken heater doesn’t help your running cold either. You’re not sure where you caught it from but you’ve been trying to stay away from the brothers to not get them sick.
That doesn’t keep Dean away, though.
He’s a complete sweetheart to you since he always brings you soup, makes sure you’re comfortable, and spends time with you even if you tell him not to go near you. You don’t know what you’d do without Dean in your life.
Speaking of, he knocks on your door and enters wearing his usual hunting attire.
“Going on a hunt?” you ask and sit up slightly.
“Yeah. I wish I could stay here and take care of you.”
“Other people need you,” you smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to stay in bed, watch movies, and make some soup later. Did you fix the heater, yet?”
“I have someone coming in a few days. He’s also on a hunt.”
“Right, no non-hunters here,” you chuckle.
“I’ll call you later and check up on you, okay?”
“My hero.”
You cuddle with your blankets more and Dean leaves your room with a slight blush on his cheeks. Before he closes the door, he looks back at you in thought. God, if only you knew what you did to me.
He closes your door and meets his brother in the library. As soon as they are packed and ready to go, they start the long drive to the next state over. When Dean gets onto the highway, Sam turns to Dean with a knowing smile.
“So, did you tell her how you feel?”
“Stay out of it, Sammy,” Dean rolls his eyes.
“How long have you had a thing for her? Years? When are you going to tell her how you feel?”
“I mean it, Sam. Stay out of it. I can handle it on my own.”
“Apparently not, or else she’d be yours.”
Dean punches his brother not gently in the arm and Sam laughs. Dean kept the music high so he could avoid talking about his feelings for you. They get to the town that has its residents sacrificing themselves in the name of God. If anything, it warrants some kind of visit from the Winchesters.
The town looks like a normal town with normal people just trying to live their normal lives. They have no suspicions that something is happening but they only just arrived. They get there late at night so they will have to do their work tomorrow morning. Dean takes out his phone when his brother goes into the bathroom to shower and calls you.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“I’m doing alright but not any better.”
“Did you take your medicine?”
“Yes, I did.” He can hear the smile in your voice and that makes him smile. “And I ate my soup and drank water.”
“Don’t forget to tell her goodnight,” Sam says loudly from the bathroom.
Dean grabs a pillow and chucks it at his brother. “Go take a shower. You stink.”
“Goodnight, Dean,” you chuckle, having heard Sam.
“Night sweetheart.” He hangs up and turns to his brother with a scowl. “I hate you.”
Sam and Dean actually get more than four hours of sleep that night but when Dean wakes up, he doesn’t recognize his surroundings. The motel is gone, the shutty beds and blankets are gone, and the peeling wallpaper is gone. What replaces it is a nice trailer, a comfortable bed, a big aquarium, and other nice shit that Dean has never had.
“Sammy?” he calls out. He gets up and leaves the small trailer only to run into Sam. “What the hell is going on? Where are we?”
“I don’t know.” Sam looks around and spots a name on the side of the trailer that’s behind Dean. “Oh, no. Look.”
Dean turns and sees the name ‘Jensen Ackles’ on the side. He turns back around and sees ‘Jared Padalecki’ on the trailer opposite his.
“You’ve got to be kidding me? We’re back in actor land? What happened last time?”
“Gabriel sent us here to avoid Raphael and his minions. I have no idea how we ended up here.”
“I bet it has something to do with the fact that people were sacrificing themselves in the name of God. My guess is that angels are involved.”
“There you two are.” Sam and Dean turn to see Castiel--Misha--walking toward them. “They’re looking for you two.”
“Yeah, we’re coming.”
If Sam and Dean didn’t do a good job trying to act last time, then they certainly aren’t going to do a good job now. It’s funny in hindsight but it makes for a very long day of filming. After the twentieth time messing up, Dean is ready to get the hell out of there to figure out how to get back to his world.
He looks to the right and sees you at the snack bar. He immediately calls for a time-out and leaves the set.
“Time out?” the director frowns and looks at him. “Everyone, take ten!”
“Y/N?”
“Come here, you have to try this. Gen made it,” you grin at Dean. You take a scoopful of food and present it to him. He opens his mouth and accepts the food, pleasantly surprised by the taste. “Oh, you have something on your mouth.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb and lick the food off. Dean is so confused about your behavior but doesn’t have time to figure it out. Your phone rings and you check who is messaging you. “I gotta go. Gen is here.”
You lean up and kiss him quickly before walking off. Dean can’t move after that quick kiss. You did it so casually like you’ve done it a thousand times. He is forced to go back to acting but he can’t do a good job because all he’s thinking about is your lips on his.
They aren’t getting enough filming done so the director calls it for the rest of the day. Sam and Dean convene outside to make it look like they’re busy so no one else talks to them.
“She kissed me, dude.”
“What?”
“Y/N or the woman who she’s supposed to be. She kissed me like we’re together or something.”
“Look, I’m glad you’re going through the five stages of teenage excitement but can we focus here? How are we going to get out of here?”
Dean looks around and spots you entering his trailer.
“Eh, you’ll figure it out. I’ll be back.”
Dean leaves to his trailer and Sam rolls his eyes in annoyance.
“Dean!” he hisses but receives no answer.
Dean enters his counterpart’s trailer and sees you where the bed is. You’re grabbing some night clothes out of the drawers since you’re not going to be leaving the trailer for the rest of the night.
“Hey, I talked to Gen about the cabin and she got it all set up for us this weekend. I’m so excited to spend some time away from all this for two days.”
“Are we dating?” The comment makes you laugh. “What?”
“Are you okay?” He looks kind of nervous so you walk over to him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but I do know how to make you feel better.”
“How?” he whispers.
You run your hands down his chest and take his hands. You take him to the bed and toss your night clothes onto a nearby chair. You fall onto the bed while pulling him so he lands on top of you but he stops himself with his hands so he doesn’t completely crush you.
You pull him down to kiss you and that’s enough to bring Dean into the delusion that you’re Y/N and you’re his. Your lips are softer than what he thought and your body fits so perfectly against his. He slips his tongue into your mouth to get familiar with you. You tug on his hair to get some traction so he pulls away from your mouth and kisses down your neck.
Your neck has always been a sensitive spot for you and he really knows how to work you up. He licks up and down your neck before latching onto the side of it. You gasp, tilt your head back, and moan something that brings Dean back down to reality.
“Jensen.” You’re not his. You’re not you. You’re Jensen’s. You’re not supposed to be with him. He pulls away and pants above you. “What’s wrong?”
“Can we just lay here instead?”
“Yeah, of course. Let me get changed.”
You slip out from underneath him and grab the pajamas you set aside earlier. You strip down naked and Dean has a hard time not looking at you. He can’t help but think you’re a complete stranger. The pajamas you’re wearing are revealing but he feels better at looking at you with clothes on. You climb into bed with him and cuddle into his side, and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your head.
“How did I get so lucky?”
“I’m the lucky one.”
“Tell me the story of how we met.” You look at him in confusion. “I want to hear it from you.”
“Okay, I got tickets to a red carpet event that my ex-friend invited me to. We were going to see the movie My Bloody Valentine because we thought it was going to be the next big movie. The entire cast was there, including you, meeting fans and taking pictures with them. When we locked eyes, it was like something was pulling you to me.
“You came over to me, complimented me on my dress, signed my poster with your number on it which I still have, and the rest is history. I never got together with you because you were a big celebrity. You were genuine, kind, funny, charming, and very sexy. It was hard not to fall in love with you.”
Dean notices the big ring on your finger and puts the pieces together.
“We’re married?”
“Yes, we are,” you laugh. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just… really happy.”
You lean over and kiss him. The next morning, Dean leaves his trailer before you get up. He doesn’t want to wake you even though he wants to. He finds Sam outside his own trailer with a book in his hands.
“Hey,” Dean sighs.
“I might have found a way out of here, no thanks to you.”
“What if we didn’t leave?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“The love of my life is my wife here.”
“That’s not your wife, Dean. She’s Jensen’s wife. She thinks you’re him. Why would you take that away from him? You have a girl waiting for you at home, a girl with whom you’re too scared to do anything about. Don’t take her away from him because you want what they have.”
Dean knows he’s right. He can’t stay here. He’s using this world as an escape from his own.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean sighs. “What do you have?”
“I found this book in the prop section. This might be a TV show but it does have some useful books to make it look real. There’s a ritual we can do.”
And a ritual it is. Once they get the stuff needed and perform it, they are brought back to the town they arrived in a couple of days ago. In order to properly tackle this town, they’re going to need some angelic help. Maybe Castiel can meet them back at the Bunker and figure something out then.
The first thing Dean does when he gets home is go looking for you. You’re still stuck in bed watching your favorite movies on Disney+. You pause your movie when your bedroom door opens.
“Hey, how was the hunt?” Dean doesn’t say anything as he kicks off his shoes. He climbs into bed with you and pulls you close to him. “Dean?”
“I love you,” he blurts. “I should have told you this years ago but I can’t seem to think straight when I’m with you. You make everything better for me, and you’re a better hunter than I ever was. God, I love you so much.”
“I’d kiss you but I don’t want to get you sick,” you smile.
“I don’t care,” he whispers and kisses you.
This is where he belongs. Right next to you.
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theonewiththefanfics · 5 months
Text
Homecoming (one-shot)
Synopsys: When Y/N goes missing during a simple supply run, she comes back with world-shattering news for Astarion. News he never thought to hear, and now he has a decision to make, one that will shift his life on its axis once more.
Set after the main events of BG3
Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader
Genre: angst, fluff, a bit of SMUT, but nothing explicit
Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, but nothing explicit, kidnapping
Word count: 8397
A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )
Part 2(ish) - Love Conquers All (one-shot)
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A home was not something to ever be taken for granted, that much they had learned during their adventures.
A home was a fire slowly crackling in the hearth, warmth expanding through the living room. A home was Astarion sitting on a loveseat, a book in his hands while he waited for his love to finish puttering around in the kitchen. A home was drying tea leaves and making preserves for the coming winter as she shooed him out, saying that his fussing would only hinder her process.
He’d huffed, puffed and whined, trying to make Y/N pull away from her plans just so they could curl up and read together, but she was adamant.
“I’ve already started.” She dropped an orange peel and pressed some lemon juice into the steaming pot. “It’ll be wasted produce if I just leave it now.”
“But it will take you hours!” Astarion whined like a child and even stomped his foot, making her snort.
“And it will take me twice as long if you don’t stop annoying me.” Y/N threw him a saccharine smile over her shoulder, batting her lashes at the pouting vampire. “Now, be a good boy, and quit pestering me. We’ll have all the time in the world, once I’m done.”
Astarion just groaned, going up to her and wrapping his arms around her waist, the incisors he usually sank into her neck now nipping at her lobe. “I can be a very good boy if you only let me prove it.”
“My love, you will be getting absolutely no sex from me, if you don’t let me at least finish this batch.” A shiver rushed down her spine as he licked at her neck, so close to that sweet spot he always used as a place to bite and drink from. But she had to be strong. The jams wouldn’t make themselves. “Every additional minute you keep me from this will be an additional day of your dry spell.”
The vampire spawn jumped back from her as if he’d been scalded, scarlet eyes narrowing in on her. “You wouldn’t dare. You wouldn’t last an hour!”
Y/N turned around, crossing her arms as a devious smile bloomed on her lips, a brow raised in challenge. “Would you like to test those waters?”
Astarion stood, staring her down. His crimson gaze was blazing from underneath his lashes, but she didn’t budge. They’d played this game for close to three years as a couple now, and she’d learned very quickly – Astarion was very much so a cat. But especially – he was a cat that liked to knock things over while keeping direct eye contact with you, though the second you placed a palm underneath whatever it was he wanted for to fall, all his need for chaos disappeared. It just wasn’t fun anymore.
For twenty long seconds, Y/N and her pale elven lover didn’t break, hoping the other would crumble and be announced as the loser, but part of what he loved about her, was her stubbornness. It was because of that part of her personality, she’d stuck by him when his doubts had crept in, when his own mind called him worthless and not good enough for her, almost as if to spite those vicious words in his mind. She didn’t give up on the people she loved, and as luck would have it, Astarion owned her heart.
But Y/N also knew how to handle a cat like him, so just after a few more tense moments, his eye twitched, and he huffed in defeat.
“Fine,” he scoffed. “But if you are not done by sundown, I shall have no other option but to drag you away from the stove. Kicking and screaming preferred.”
Y/N simply shook her head, and went to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling the man into a deep, breathless kiss, but not before nipping at his bottom lip, dragging the piece of flesh between her teeth and making him let out a desperate moan. “I’ll even let you tie me up if you wish to do so.”
Astarion’s pupils almost swallowed the red irises in a matter of seconds, as he threw his head back in a groan. “My love, you’re absolutely killing me here.”
“Then I hope whatever punishment you deem fit for me, will be just oh, so sweet.” Y/N stepped back, untangling herself from him, but the mischievousness in her eyes didn’t lessen.
She could see how the words tortured him, how it took every single last piece of his fraying self-control, to not rip off her apron and the clothes underneath and just lay her down on the kitchen table, legs spread with his mouth licking into her until she orgasmed.
With eyes holding nothing but pure lust and hands clenching and unclenching, Astarion retreated. Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t hot and bothered and absolutely dripping between her thighs, and the thought of finishing those jams was the last thing on her mind, but she did have to do it. If only to keep him waiting longer, knowing whatever his beautiful brain was cooking up would leave her screaming and shaking for hours.
They’d been growing their own vegetables and fruits, Y/N tending to them during the nights to spend more time with Astarion as he fussed over his flower gardens, so it would simply be wasteful to leave their berries to rot. The year had been very generous and offered a variety of things to gather, so a while back, she’d decided to pickle some of the tomatoes and cucumbers, turn another batch of peppers and tomatillos into sauces while the sweeter things would be turned into syrups and jams.
Y/N shook her head, trying to clear it from the haze of lust, as the aroma of lemons and cranberries, raspberries and oranges wafted all around, encasing her in the scent. She was just about to add the sugar when the tin rattled with the sound of the last grains left.
Her brow furrowed as she opened the lid and looked inside. Sure, enough it was empty.
The woman huffed. She was absolutely positive she’d gotten the right amount during the last trip, but somewhere along the way it seemed a miscalculation had happened, and now she had to get more. Y/N would have asked Astarion, and had the sun dipped below the horizon, he would have jumped at the request, but alas his little vampiric predicament forbade him from walking during the day, the sun still high in the sky from what she could see through a tiny slit in the shutters.
Quickly, Y/N snuffed out the flame below the pot, untied her dirtied apron and grabbed a basket from the pantry, tying a pouch of coins to her side. She only needed sugar, but maybe she would grab some other necessities as well. They were low on Astarion’s favourite wine, one he claimed didn’t taste like vinegar at least.
“I’m off to the market really quick,” Y/N announced as she peeked into the living room, taking in Astarion as he flipped a page in a book. “Do you want anything?”
“No, my love.” He looked at her like a love-sick puppy. “Just your darling self back as quick as you can. I have picked up some… inspiration for your punishment if you will. Just as you suggested, of course.” He closed the book, showing the cover to her.
Heat crawled all over her body as she read the title, one of her smuttier romances she had started to read, and when she could do nothing but gulp and nod, his smile turned from a sweet one into a wicked-fanged thing. It was all she needed to know whatever awaited her once she was done would leave her unable to walk. Gods, she needed to finish this whole thing up as quickly as she could.
Y/N was out the doors like the wind, the usual stroll to the market cut from half an hour into a brisk fifteen-minute jog, the thoughts of the man waiting back home for her at the forefront of her mind.
The needed sugar, some coffee beans, a loaf of fresh bread, Astarion’s wine and some sour cream were all bought in quick succession, Y/N didn’t even try to haggle. Her eyes drifted across various stalls and merchants and she almost deemed it done when her gaze caught onto a rose seedling. It was a beautiful bloom with blood-red petals that whitened at the very tips. She smiled and went to buy it. Astarion would love the symbolism even if a bit too on the nose.
Once satisfied with everything, Y/N marched across the market and was back on the road to home. It was a humble little house they’d purchased with whatever had been left in their pockets after all was said and done with the tadpoles, but Astarion had bigger plans. This was only a temporary situation.
“I want a whole room full of books. Nothing but books from one end to the other and then some,” he’d confided in Y/N one night after both were panting and spent from multiple rounds of bringing the other to ecstasy.
“And a large ballroom,” he continued, and Y/N couldn’t help the loud laugh that escaped her.
“A ballroom? And what will we do with that?”
“Why, have grand balls, of course!” He threw his hands up in the air as if her question was preposterous.
“Star…” Y/N tilted her head to look up at him from where she was lying on his naked chest. “You hate people. A ballroom full of them – it would be your literal nightmare.”
“I don’t hate people.”
“I don’t count.”
“Alright,” he conceded, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. Y/N placed her palm atop where his heart was and rested her chin on it, looking deep into his eyes. “I hate most people, simply dislike them, but I wouldn’t be opposed to a get-together, from time to time. Maybe… maybe see our friends. Catch up on how they’re doing. I absolutely despise to admit this and will say you are lying if you ever mention it to anyone, but I – I miss them… even Gale…”
A gentle smile lifted her lips as she brushed a wild curl out of his face and tucked it behind his pointy ear. “I think I’d really like that too.”
His eyes were so soft and full of love, that Y/N swore she could feel his heart beating once more in his chest, thudding against her palm in a confession of adoration.
She was almost out of the city by that point, already on the small, secluded road leading to their house which lay on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate right by the edges of the woods, so Astarion had easier access to game in between feeding on her when her attention was drawn back by someone calling out.
“Miss!” the voice, male she made out, yelled after her. “Miss, please wait!”
Instantly, her guard was up, but when a breathless man, looking to be in his late sixties appeared from behind a copse of trees, she somewhat relaxed. Y/N was still cautious, but if anything, she had a dagger holstered against her thigh. She was always prepared.
“Miss,” he gasped out, leaning his hands against his knees to catch his breath. “Miss, you are a quick one. I’ve been calling for you since by the rose stalls."
“Oh, I – I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you!” Y/N said but didn’t move forward. “How can I help?”
He huffed, as if regaining her breath, before fishing out a piece of fabric from his pocket, and extending it towards her. “You dropped this by the flowers.”
When she took a closer look at what he was holding, it seemed to be some sort of a silk scarf. She narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t own silk scarves and definitely hadn’t worn one on such a warm day. “You must have mixed me up with someone, as it’s not mine. Sorry, for you to have troubled yourself like this.”
“No.” The man furrowed his brow, taking a step closer. “I am fairly certain I saw you drop it. Such a fine piece… didn’t want you to lose it.”
Y/N took a step back, angling herself in a defensive position with the basket in front of her. She didn’t like the tone he was speaking in, nor the way his eyes seemed to be appraising her. “No,” she asserted. “It’s not mine.”
His back stiffened, eyes growing cold, the grip on the scarf tightening as he hummed. “Well… a pity then.”        
She took another step back, but he was already lunging at her.
Dropping the basket to the ground, she reached for the knife strapped at her thigh, but he was quick as a viper as she hadn’t even noticed when a rope appeared in his hands, lashing it at her. Years of having fought had kept her agile and aware, but years of domestic bliss with Astarion had dulled her senses a bit.
The rope caught and wrapped around her ankle, knocking her to the ground. Y/N’s teeth clattered and snapped, her tongue almost in between them, but as he rushed to pin her down, she twisted her leg around the rope and pulled, making the man lose his balance and stumble.
It was enough for her to swipe her leg underneath his, and send him sprawling. It was enough for her to untangle her legs and roll away as he snapped it at her head. Her clothes were dirty as was her face, but it didn’t matter. She’d cover herself in blood if needed.
It was almost animalistic how she pounced – teeth bared, a snarl ripping from her throat and hands forming claws as if she would gouge at his face with just his nails, but as her palm brushed her thigh, unclipping the holster for her dagger, Y/N didn’t see the man had crouched on his knee and swung the cord.
It knocked the air out of her, as it wrapped around her chest, and he pulled her down, hard. Her ribs were screaming as the tether tightened and tightened with every pull, but as she thought this would be it, something strange happened – instead of offering her the killing blow, he opened a palm, now covered in a leather glove, and blew the contents of it onto her face.
Y/N coughed and sputtered, but whatever it was, was fast-acting and her lungs, still incapable of proper breathing due to the rope couldn’t expel it. In just a few seconds, the bright day around her turned into darkness.
She didn’t know how long she was unconscious for, but enough time had passed to dry out her throat. Or was that a side effect of whatever was blown into her face? In any case, as she slowly came to, Y/N noted there was a soft mattress under her body, which was an oddity for someone kidnapped. She could even tell the dagger was still by her thigh, the comforting weight of the blade pressed under her. Even weirder, if you asked her, to not disarm your victims.
Darkness still encompassed her, but the soft cloth against her cheeks told her she hadn’t permanently lost her vision, but with her sight obscured, she had to rely on her ears. That’s when voices invaded her senses.
There were three people somewhere further away, most likely in a different room if taken by how muffled the words were. She focused harder on what they were saying.
Two men and a female, Y/N differentiated, when the woman spoke.
“This is not what we agreed upon!” she hissed, and a grumbly-sounding man scoffed.
“You said to get her to you. I did. You never specified how.” It was the same man who’d knocked her out.
“We want her to help us!” A different male voice, this one softer, even kinder, rebutted. “I highly doubt kidnapping is a good incentive for that!”
“Look,” her assailant said. “I fulfilled my end of the deal. She is unhurt, maybe she'll sport a couple of bruises and a headache, but that is her own fault. She could have come willingly but didn’t. Other than that, though – she is completely fine. Now you do your part!”
As the trio argued between themselves, more angry whispers than shouting, Y/N started to shimmy her hands which had been bound, out of the restraints. She had a good inclination they needed her alive but had no want of staying as a prisoner.
Though her fighting skills seemed to have mellowed, which she was not happy about, even a couple of years without mortally dangerous adventures, hadn’t changed how quickly she could slip her wrists from their bindings.  Astarion might need to get more creative during their debauchery.
Y/N froze the second she heard a door open and shut, two pairs of footsteps moving closer and closer to where she was. Her breathing was shallow and almost imperceptible, as she tried to make it look like she was still unconscious.
She could sense two bodies enter the room and one move to stand where she faced, the other going to her back.
Y/N tensed. In just a few moments, whoever was behind her, would notice her undone binds. But she’d be ready.
“Darling, please be careful,” the woman said, a tremble in her voice.
Good. Let them be scared.
“Don’t worry,” the man replied. “I’ll just make sure she’s – what in the -”
But Y/N was already up, the blindfold off and ready to pounce. This time, she’d have the upper hand.
For a second, the light in the room blinded her, but her sight refocused fast enough to take in her captors’ faces.
The woman was beautiful, with high rosy cheekbones, and jade green eyes so vivid they looked like actual gemstones. Her hair was long and dark, down to her waist while grey strands seemed to have invaded the brown tresses in some places, but she was still ethereally gorgeous, her pointy ears covered in piercings.
Y/N snapped out of the shock quicker and using this to her advantage, she was behind her in a matter of a blink, her dagger pressed tight against her throat.
A gasp entered her ears, but she just pressed the blade harder, making her whimper.
“Please!” the man made her look at him, but instead of bracing for an attack, he had his hands up in surrender. “Please don’t hurt her! We just want to talk.”
“Funny way of having a conversation you’ve got there.” Y/N tightened her grip on the knife, surveying the man. Again, those same pointed ears, but his eyes were the most brilliant blue she’d ever seen and his face was marred with more age lines than the woman’s, yet he still was as gorgeous as she. “Typically, only my enemies would knock me out and tie me up before spilling their grand plans. But I will be kind and give you a choice – what would you like to be – friends or foes?”
“Friends! Friends! Please! We – we’re looking for our son!” the elven man pleaded. “And we – we heard a rumour that you might know him. Have even seen him.”
Y/N narrowed her Y/E/C eyes, piercing his with her gaze. “I’ve known and seen a lot of people. Usually, others just ask me about them, they don’t have someone kidnap me.”
“And we’re sorry, we’re so very sorry, but we had to make sure you came. It went too far and we apologise, but please…” He took in a deep breath, worried eyes flipping between his partner and her. “Our son – his name is Astarion. Astarion Ancunin. Have you – do you know of him?”
Hearing his name, knocked the breath out of her as if they’d snapped a rope around her chest again, making her stumble back. Her grip on the woman released, and she used the moment to leap over to her partner, using the bed as a buffer. He instantly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her half behind his back, but not before checking if Y/N’s dagger had pierced the skin.
Tears brimmed in the eleven woman’s green eyes as she looked at her, not even caring that just a moment before she was so close to having her blood dripping on the floor. “Please,” she whispered. “I – I know we didn’t go about it the right way, but please… is it true he’s alive?”
"I,” Y/N stammered, her gaze snapping back and forth between the two.
Astarion.
They were Astarion’s parents.
Even after all this time, they were searching for their missing son.
Y/N should have noticed the details – how the woman had a small mole on her cheek right where Astarion did, how the shape of the man’s eyes was the exact same as his son’s. Astarion even had the same high cheekbones as his mother while his sharp jaw was that of his father.
What had his eyes been like before? Green like his mother’s or the sky blue of his father's? What had he been like as a child? No doubt as mischievous and scheme-prone as he was now, but who had he gotten it from? So many different questions rattled through Y/N’s brain as she kept glancing back and forth, before shaking her head and pulling her out of the shocked stupor.
“You – you’re Ancunins?” She had to ask. Had to make sure she hadn’t overheard them or maybe hallucinating because of the powder she’d inhaled.
“Yes.” The woman nodded, brushing tears from under her eyes. “Our son has been missing for more than two hundred years, and we almost lost hope until… until we heard about you and your company a few years back. How one of the party members resembled our little Star so much.”
They hadn’t been inconspicuous, though they had tried, so it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise that tales of their adventures had gone far and wide, especially after saving Baldur’s Gate, killing Cazador and the absolute, and Gods know how many other evils along the way. But she never thought Astarion’s parents would have heard of it.
In fact, Astarion had barely even mentioned them over the years, and, for whatever reason, Y/N had concluded they must have passed, despite knowing elves lived extremely long lives. Had he maybe tried to find them on his own and couldn’t? Or had he forgotten about them?
Until Astarion and Y/N had become an official couple and she’d commissioned a portrait of him as a gift on an anniversary, he hadn’t even seen himself in two centuries. He’d forgotten what he looked like. It didn’t seem too crazy to assume, the memories of his parents’ names or their faces, might’ve slipped away as well, or even the love they had for him. Especially knowing how deeply Cazador had ruined that notion for him.
She needed to get home. She needed to see Astarion, and then she could figure out what to do.
“I need to go.” Y/N nodded to herself, muttering under her breath. “I need to think.”
“No, please!” the woman lunged, trying to grasp at her, but she had a knife pointed at her chest in an instant, making the elf shrivel back, but still, she pleaded. “Please help us. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate! If you can’t help, who will?”
“I promise I will do my best,” Y/N said. “But I need time… I – I need to figure all of this out.”
Her mind was swirling like a hurricane, but the man interrupted her breakdown as she realised how pretty much her in-laws, had kidnapped her. “At least tell us this – is – is it true he is alive? Or have we travelled across Faerun under the pretences of false hope?”
In truth, Y/N wanted to take them by the arms and drag them to her house, but whether Astarion wanted to reach out and reconnect, was up to him. That sort of a choice was not hers to make, but she could grant them this one request.
“He is.” Y/N nodded.
And then she left as quickly as she could because if she had to stand there and watch as the elves crumbled into one another, cries of relief and joy escaping into the slowly setting day, she would crumble too. Their faces were already permanently burned into her mind, and she needed a moment to process everything.
By a stroke of luck or fate, Y/N instantly recognised she was in the woods on the other side of Baldur’s Gate, so retracing her steps to the market was fairly easy even though the whole way back home, she was pretty much stumbling around in a daze, knocking into people and tripping over her own two legs.
Her discarded basket was right where she’d left it, gold coins scattered around it. The pouch must’ve broken during the struggle. Y/N made sure to pick every single piece up and was more than relieved to see, that the rose bloom was still intact.
By the time she arrived, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, and as the last rays warmed her back, she extended her palm to open the door, though she didn’t even get to touch the handle as it was ripped open by a visibly distressed Astarion.
His eyes looked like he’d been crying, his hair as if he’d been relentlessly raking his fingers through the locks and his lower lip so bitten, there was a small hole where one of his incisors had gone through.
“Oh, thank the Gods!” Astairon instantly grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her in a bone-crushing hug, burying his nose into the crook of her neck. “Thank the Gods!”
Y/N dropped the basket over the threshold and closed the door with her foot, her own arms weaving around his middle, a palm soothingly brushing along his side, as he soaked her in.
“I’m alright, Star,” she said, kissing his temple and didn’t even make a noise as he gripped her waist tighter, right where bruises were forming. “I’m sorry I was gone so long, but I’m alright.”
“What happened? You said you’d be quick, but you were gone for hours! And you know what the worst part was – I couldn’t even go out looking for you because of the damned fucking sun!” Astarion cupped her face, turning it this way and that way, trying to find any injuries, but the biggest one would be in her head as she tried to figure out how to explain to him what had happened. “Gods, I am never letting you out of my sight again!”
Y/N indulged the vampire in the hug he pulled her in, holding him against her chest, trying to comfort him, but she was way too consumed with her new findings. Too quickly, as evident by the frown on Astarion’s face, she untangled herself from the embrace, anxiety immediately flashing over his handsome features.
She slid her arms from around his waist to take his palms into hers. “I – I don’t even know how to say this… How do you say something like that?”
Worry instantly marred his brow, and Y/N pressed a practised thumb between them, trying to soothe them away.
“Shit…” he muttered. “Did I do something wrong?”
“What? No!” She cupped his cheeks. “Astarion you’ve done nothing!”
“Then – then what?” He was tentative, still, scared Y/N might be angry at him. Or worse – wanted to leave, but her next words erased all that doubt.
“I…” She took in a deep breath. “Astarion, I met your parents today.”
Whatever he had expected, clearly that hadn’t been it. Probably a confession she’d met a past love, that their feelings were reignited and she wanted to go with them. But definitely not that.
He blinked once, twice, trice, completely and utterly stupefied before a small whisper of “What?” passed his lips.
“It’s why I’m so late,” Y/N explained. “They’d heard a rumour, that I knew you and had travelled with you during our tadpole situation, and came to me. Astarion, your parents are looking for you…”
A million thoughts seemed to swirl in his head, but Y/N held onto his hand through all of them.
“What,” he cleared his throat, “what did you tell them?”
“That I’d find them once I figured out what to do?”
“Which means?”
“Which means I would come home, give you this information and let you figure out what you’d like to do…”
So many emotions flashed across his face, but Y/N no longer needed that mind flayer tadpole connection it created – Astarion was an open book for her to read.
Joy. Such indisputable joy shone in his scarlet eyes before being consumed by confusion. Then anger and disgust and love, but by the end of it all his heart settled on one feeling – fear.
It’s what it knew best, though Y/N had tried her hardest to reduce it to ashes, yet still it lingered. She understood it, despite not being happy he ever had to feel it.
He feared what to do, what would be the right choice to make, he feared their reactions and what they would say of his disappearance or of his newest… condition. Would they accept him? Or would they be repulsed by him?
“What – what would I even say to them?” Astarion searched her Y/E/C eyes as if they held an answer, but when one magically didn’t appear, he hung his head, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I can’t even remember what they looked like. Their names, the house we used to live in… it’s all a fog.”
Y/N tried to give him an encouraging smile. “Well, your mother – she has the most beautiful green eyes. Like that dress you made for me for Summer Solstice, that same shade. And – and she has a little beauty mark on her cheek.” With a gentle thumb, she brushed over the mole. “Right in that same spot.”
His brows furrowed in concentration; his lips pinched tightly. “I – I remember blue eyes. Not green.”
“That might be your father's. His are azure I’d say. Like the summer sky. Gods, Astarion,” Y/N breathed out. “You look so much like them, but… honestly, the only thing you need to know right now is that they looked relieved.” Her voice was soothing as he tried to find lies in her words, but there would be none. “I didn’t tell them anything apart from the fact that you’re alive, and all I saw was complete and utter relief.”
Y/N placed a strand of hair behind his ear as he pondered. His carmine eyes slid to hers. “Do they want to see me?”
“Yes. It was the whole reason they sought me out because I might have a single scrap of information on you.” She’d mention the kidnapping later. Or maybe never, depending on how everything went. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.
“Is it,” he hesitated, as if ashamed to be asking such a question. “Is it alright if I think this over for a bit? I’m just – there’s so much going on in my head…”
“Of course, Star!” Y/N cupped his cheeks and placed a reassuring kiss on his forehead. “Take all the time you need.”
“Thank you,” he sighed, his shoulders dropping, but she just shook her head.
“Nothing to thank me for. Not for this.”
And so, they continued on like that for a few days – Y/N didn’t bring the subject up, but she made sure Astarion knew, she’d be there whenever he needed to talk. Yet her mind couldn’t help but worry about the two elves in that little cottage on the other side of the town. How horrid it must be to wait for an answer that might never come, but her love was her first and only priority. When he decided it would be time, she’d support him no matter what.
It was a week after the revelation (and subsequent freakout on Astarion’s part when Y/N had removed her clothes before him, and he saw the raw skin and bruises on her ribs. She spent the whole night convincing him it was fine and talking him down from hunting the mercenary and bleeding him dry. She didn’t mention it had been his parents who’d hired him but rather said it had been an unfortunate coincidence), when Astarion awoke with a certain determination, shaking her awake.
She swatted at him like an insect buzzing by her ear. “Leave me be, you blood-sucking, elf!” Y/N grumbled, burying herself under the duvet. “It’s too early. And stop hogging the covers!”
She was just about to elbow him in the ribs if he didn’t let her sleep more, but what he said was like cold ice being poured over her, waking her up completely.
“I think I want to see my parents.”
Y/N was sat in a second. The sheet dropped down, exposing her naked chest, but she didn’t even feel the chilly air biting at her skin, even though Astarion’s gaze immediately dropped down to her breasts, eyes blazing with want.
Rolling her own eyes, she pulled the cover so that it obscured her indecency. Though it was his favourite outfit of hers, they needed to focus on the important things. “Are you sure? You can take all the time you need. There is no rush to this, and it’s a huge decision to make.”
“I’m sure,” Astarion sighed, running a hand through his moon-white locks and dropping back onto the pillows. “It’s pretty much all I’ve been thinking about.”
Y/N worried her lip before sliding back down next to him, letting him wrap his arms around her body. She knew in moments like these, Astarion needed reassurance, and he craved being close to her. Holding her grounded him, and made his scattered thoughts into something solid.
She kissed right above where his heart lay. “If, you’re sure.”
“I am… I just… Will you be there?” Astarion looked down at her.
The woman gave him a smile. “Nowhere I’d rather be than by your side.”
Gently, he brushed a finger against her cheekbone and leaned to kiss her, thankful he’d found someone to walk the world with, especially during the moments he feared he might break.
The day before they’d decided on meeting, Y/N ventured out to the cabin to inform the elven couple of Astarion’s decision. Once they’d seen her walking up through the window, they were out before she even managed to get to the door, faces full of hope.
“Astarion, he wants to come and see you, but there are some… conditions…”
His mother’s brow furrowed, the grimace so familiar it sent a pang through Y/N’s heart, but she swallowed it. “Whatever he needs. Whatever you both need. Anything for our little Star.”
“So… please just don’t question this, but umm… physical contact – I know I can’t possibly understand how you feel, but let him come to you first. It might not make sense, but it’s important that he is the one to make that step.”
“Of course,” Astarion's father nodded, his mother eagerly agreeing.
“And umm… he’ll be different. He might not look like the elf you remember him being. The world wasn’t kind to him for a long time… Please don’t mention this.”
Pain flashed across their faces at her words. They must have assumed something horrible had happened to him, but to have it confirmed was a different kind of agony. But as Y/N had asked – they didn’t question, simply nodded, holding onto one another a bit tighter.
“Alright.” Her heart was somewhat settled. “Thank you. We – uh- we’ll see you later tonight then.”
And with that, she left only to find Astarion pacing the inside of their hallway upon her return.
“Is it sundown already?” He snapped his neck to her as she removed her cloak, visibly upset when Y/N shook her head.
“A couple more hours, I’m afraid,” she said, taking his hand and kissing his palm, placing it against her cheek. “Please stop worrying. It will all be alright.”          
“But what if I’m making a mistake?”
She raised her brow. “Do you think you’re making a mistake?”
“N-no?” Astarion huffed. “I don’t know. I know I want to see them at least once, but what if it’s best to leave the past in the past? Why torture myself and exhume it, so to speak?”
“You can leave it all behind if that’s what you wish. But, Star, you also have the rarest of opportunities people get – a second chance.” She stepped close to him, pulling his head down by the nape of his neck so they could rest their foreheads against one another. “But you can always leave. You can always say “no.” And if someone doesn’t get that, no matter who they might be, I will gut them navel to throat.”
Astarion chuckled, brushing his nose against hers. “My knight in bloody armour, always ready to ride into battle for me.”
Y/N pecked his lips in response. “As long as I get my kisses at the end of it – without a second to spare.”
They spent the couple of hours waiting until the sun went down cleaning up around the house and then it was time to go.
As Astarion took a deep breath before closing the door, Y/N squeezed his hand. “We can turn back whenever you want to.”
But he seemed determined, only giving her a reassuring smile and twining their fingers together, her hand in his solid hold.
They walked slowly, enjoying the warm night gracing Baldur’s Gate, and soon enough they were through the city and past the woods, a small log cabin coming into view.
He stopped them a few feet away, taking in a moment to gather his thoughts and emotions.
Y/N glanced at him encouragingly. “Are you ready, Star?”
Astarion took in a deep breath, held it in for a moment and then exhaled, nodding. With this confirmation, she released his hand and ventured to the door, gently rapping her knuckles against it, immediately returning to stand beside her lover.
Instantly his palm was back into hers, as if he needed her to ground him, reassure him everything would be alright as nervous energy coursed through his veins while they waited for the inhabitants to come and see them. And though it was probably no more than ten seconds since she’d knocked, it felt like time had stood still. Once the doors opened, even nature quieted down.
The breeze shushed the tweeting birds and seemingly even the worms digging underground stopped their burrowing as finally, after two hundred years, the lost Ancunin son returned.
They stood like that for what seemed like ages, just taking one another in, before a small sob of Astarion’s name from his mother’s lips broke the spellbound silence.
It’s when he rushed for her, the elf already on her feet, meeting him halfway. Her arms wrapped tight around his body, hands smoothing down the back of his head as all the while she kept whispering “My Star, my little Star, you’re home.”
Y/N was on standby, ready to rip her away if Astarion became overwhelmed. She’d asked them to allow him to be the one to make the first step, and they had, but with such all-encompassing feelings, she just wanted him to be safe.
Though all that anxiety dissipated like ice under the blazing hear of the sun when Astarion practically melted against his mother, his fingers digging into her shoulders and back as if he never wished to be let go, both of them crumbling to their knees, still in each other’s embrace.
Tears welled along Y/N’s bottom lashes and when his father joined them, wrapping his arms around his family, they fell like rain on an autumn evening. She had to press a hand against her mouth to not sob out loud, but it didn’t seem like anyone would care, as Y/N noted Astarion’s shoulders shaking while his mother and father were freely crying, all the while touching and caressing his face, trying to ingrain the memory of having their son back in their arms.
She couldn’t imagine that feeling, didn’t ever want to, of finally being reunited with a family which you were so brutally ripped away from. Y/N almost wanted to resurrect Cazador, just so she could drive a stake through his heart again, but that might’ve been a bit too morbid of a thought in such a tender moment.
“You’re home.” His mother pulled back, cupping Astarion’s cheeks and smiling from ear to ear. “Our little Star is back home.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he choked out, but his father shook his head.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re here. That’s enough for us.”
Y/N watched as he took in the people who’d searched for him relentlessly. He never knew they’d never given up. She wondered if there would be a time, he’d believe he was worth all it. She certainly hoped so.
“Thank you,” the elf with eyes like jade said, snapping her eyes towards Y/N. “You have no idea what kind of a gift you’ve bestowed upon us. We will never be able to repay you.”
She could only wave them off, a knot in her throat. “You owe me nothing. Seeing this – this is enough for me. I’ll – uh – I’ll leave you to it then.”
Just as she was about to turn around, Astarion jumped to his feet, untangling himself from the limbs of his parents, eyes full of concern. “What? Why? What’s wrong?” He was by her side in an instant, pulling her hand to rest against his chest.
“Nothing!” Y/N shook her head. “I just – I just think maybe I should take my leave. I can be back in a few hours if you’d like, but this just all seems like – like a private family reunion.”
Astarion scoffed, his free arm weaving around her waist, completely offended. “And what exactly do you think you are to me if not family, my love? Arguably, you might be the most important part of it.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that -,”
“Hush now!” he scolded her. “You promised to be by my side through everything. Are you breaking that promise?”
“No, I just,” she stammered. “Are you sure you don’t want me to leave you to it? This just feels awfully personal.”
“My love, you are the keeper of my heart. You are my true home.” Astarion cupped her cheek, resting his brow against hers, chest against chest, not caring who might see. “Without you, none of this would have happened. I could still be on that beach with a mind flayer tadpole wriggling behind my eye.” He took her hand, and kissed her knuckles, sighing as they brushed against his jaw. “I don’t want to do this without you. I want to relearn who my parents are, and I want them to get to know me, but a non-negotiable part of that is you. That is if it’s alright with you?”
A tear slipped down her cheek, as she looked deep into those ruby eyes that once held nothing but fear and pain, only to now show love and compassion and happiness. When she smiled, her grin could have rivalled the sun itself. “I’d be honoured.”
When they glanced at the two elves by the threshold of the house, they noted the horrified looks on their faces. Astarion’s guard was immediately up, but his mother beat him to it.
“My Star, I am so sorry!” She put a hand over her mouth. “We swear we didn’t know you two were lovers! We just...” She glanced at her husband in desperation, but it seemed the little scene they’d put on had rendered him speechless. “Had we known, we would have never…”
Astarion squinted at her, a dangerous note appearing in his voice. “Never would have what?”
“Oh Gods, we had your partner kidnapped,” his father finally got out, eyes only widening in more shock as it settled that Y/N wasn’t just a travelling companion or a friend, but just what she really meant to Astarion.
“You did what?!” His head snapped to Y/N who now retreated to stand between the two shocked elves, and her quite furious boyfriend.
“Astarion, it’s alright,” she tried to calm him down. “They didn’t know! Besides, I heard them arguing with that mercenary. They didn’t hurt me. In fact, I,” she let out a nervous chuckle, “I held a knife to your mother’s throat. So, call it even and let’s move past it?”
His gaze was hot like the flames, as it burned into her. “We will discuss this later.” He pointed an accusatory finger at her before taking a deep breath and exhaling. “This is absolutely not how I ever imagined a family reunion to go, let alone the introduction of my partner.”
Y/N’s shoulders dropped as he broke the settled tension, but something in his eyes told her she’d pay for her omissions. And oh, how delicious that punishment would be.
His mother still seemed to be all nerves as she invited them inside, spouting apologies in Y/N’s direction, but when she took the elf's hand in hers and gave a comforting embrace, she relaxed a little. “Let’s let the bygones be bygones.”
“I’d appreciate that,” she smiled, and wrinkles of age and time appeared around her eyes.
It was awkward at first, two centuries of hurt laying between them, two centuries of torture on Astarion’s end, of lost love and people, but slowly they opened up. And when his mother mentioned how he always used to bury his nose into strawberry fields, because it reminded him of his mother’s hair care products, it was like a damn had been opened.
The memories were still there, buried under layers of pain and horrors, but there. Maybe a little jumbled up and out of sorts, but with every hour spent together, locks were being broken and a light long lost lit up again.
Astarion had changed, but so had his parents. He let them know of his adventures, how he met Y/N and how she had turned his world upside down but abstained from the more gruesome parts. He wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Maybe not ever, but if he so wished, she knew his parents would be there to listen and welcome his vulnerably with open arms.
An hour before the sun resumed its place in the sky, Y/N nudged Astarion, telling him it was time to leave. She had little doubt in her mind, his parents had caught onto what he was, even if they hadn’t mentioned Cazador. If not for the shape of his elongated canines, or the colour of his eyes, which Y/N had found out had been a beautiful shade of pale green, then because of the brutal scars on his neck. But they still pulled him into a hug with such vigour, it was like they feared they’d never see him again, which was probably a thought always haunting their minds.
“Would – would you like to come over to ours?” Astarion asked, still holding onto his mother’s hands. “It’s a bit of a mess, our place, but if you come after the sun’s down, I’m sure we can have it proper enough to take on guests.”
It was an odd request, but thankfully, neither his mother nor father said anything about the specific time request, simply hugged him once more and promised to be by their door the second the sun dipped, wine and lemon cakes in hand.
As they waved their goodbyes, Astarion slipped his palm into Y/N’s and made sure they walked all the way back like that. Once behind a closed door, he pulled her into his chest relishing in the way their bodies melded together – two puzzle pieces finally connecting and forming the most magnificent picture to exist.
“What is it like to be finally home?” Y/N asked as he swayed them to a tune only, he heard.
Astarion shook his head, pulling slightly back so he could cup her jaw. “My love, I have been home for a long time now. I’ve been safe and cared for, all thanks to you.” His eyes were so full of love and adoration, she almost choked on a breath. “Now… now it just feels complete. So thank you… thank you for being my home,” he muttered that little confession against her skin, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you for keeping me safe.”
“Always, my love.” Y/N didn’t hide the tears rolling down her face and he brushed them away with a soft thumb. “Always.”
When their gazes locked, all she could see was excitement for what the new day had to offer, and she knew whatever was in store, as long as they were by one another’s side, there was nothing they couldn’t overcome.
But for all that, there was an important thing she was unaware of.
As Y/N entered their living room, talking to herself and making a list of what they had to do before his parents arrived, Astarion stood and watched her, leaning against the doorframe, all the while his hands rested in his pocket, where in one of them, a beautiful ring was being twirled between his fingers.
Before they’d left, his mother had slyly pulled it off her own hand, pressing it into his palm, and whispering to him while hugging that she didn’t want to see Y/N without it the next time around.
Astarion had no intention of living his life without Y/N as his fiancé for a second longer.
When she turned around to find him on one knee, he didn’t even get to ask the question before she responded with a shout of “Yes!” and jumped on him, pulling him into a kiss he swore breathed life into his still chest.
He couldn’t wait to reintroduce Y/N to his parents as his intended.
Now all was as it should be. He was finally home. And somewhere in the garden, a rose bloomed in full.
Tags:
Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger
Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird
A/N: This idea was inspired by that one post of a painting Astarion's parents probably had of him, but had put away somewhere just so they didn't have to look a the son they lost, so I rectified it (Link to the inspo pic :) :( Now they have a portrait of Astarion and his love right above their fire place :)
P.S. my tags are always open :)
P.S.S. please don't plagiarise or repost on other platforms.
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baekuras · 1 year
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nothing like leaving your broken shower curtain to be a problem for later/the next day because after almost flooding your bathroom you didn’t want to deal with that as well only to come back to it halfspread across the room at 3am after having completely forgotten about that disaster
oops?
#txts#this also might turn into a tuesday problem#bc aside from work i also need to buy so many things tomorrow#i didnt go shopping the entire week so my reserves are p low#not gone gone but some craving staples need to return#and they prob would be gone gone if i had actually eaten healthily aka enough but i digress#i was sick i get a pass shush#no1 reason as to why i actually get angry whenever i dont eat and watch that like a hawk#is my mother having been worried that i was definitely totally having an eating disorder in school#when all that was was 'i can only eat during those times and i am NOT making this backpack even heavier nor paying for more food'#combined with also not needing more bc....its school its not like i was doing much bc bleh but thats another brain bullshit#anyhow i refuse to have any eating bs simply out of spite#even though i do acknowledge it probably at least edges onto SOMETHING for some reason bc like#yeah its nice to have lost some weight#and i didnt NEED the lunch every day because i was fine#which are 2 thoughts i immediately slam down bc just awake in bed bc sick isnt 'fine' and it could be better than fine#also weight=fat/muscle distribution fits how i like it so who cares about a kilo or two#or 3 by now.....i should have cooked more pasta or smth...well or anything#ANYHOW this is your 3am rant of the day this went totally away from me but also made me remember to renew my shopping list#and i have to get ready for work in 4 hours but my sleep schedule is shot so...oops and goodnight
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