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#guilt sounds like crunching
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Who are you trying to convince?
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The little human gave the apple chip to me.  You probably can't have apple chips, so stop giving me sad giraffe face.  I'm doing you a favor! [chews faster]
Thanks for visiting the blog and we hope you all have a great weekend!  Stay safe out there and we'll be back with more bunny cuteness on Monday.
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iovesia · 6 months
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loose ends. coriolanus snow.
cw. toxic relationship. dark!coriolanus. manhandling.
"after everything i did for you—" his booming, hoarse voice echoes through the desolate forest. "this is how you repay me?!"
your heartbeat drums in your ears, chest tightened as if he was stepping right on you, as you hide behind boulders. each crunch of twigs under his large boots crept closer to you. like a measly little mouse, you crept and crawled faster, the mud and dirt staining the rose smelling shawl on your shoulders.
"i.. i just wanna talk.." coriolanus' tone switches at the drop of a hat. his mind dancing on the thin line between desperation and rage. was there a difference?
"i'm not gonna hurt you," he lies.
the jabber jays mock him, faintly singing his words through the forest, and only making you feel more suffocated. your tired feet, and burning thighs ached as you knelt down in the creek. cold water from the river sloshing at the bank, freezing your skin as it hits you.
"where are you?" coriolanus' voice is a meer whisper, "where.. are.. you..?" his faint breathing, and paranoid mumbling gradually faded under the sounds of the river and birds chirping.
you peak your head above the creek, seeing no sign of the gun-wielding lover. no sight of his platinum blonde hair within the stalks of dark, brown trees. naively, your nails dig into the dirt and you hoist yourself out the damp creak. a relieved sigh leaves your lips, eyes fluttering closed.
"found you."
you freeze. the color drains from your face, once you open your eyes to the familiar sight of dirty army boots. your frame trembled as you craned your neck up to him. coriolanus towered over you, his face dimmed by the sun shining down on him, creating a twisted silhouette glow around him. a devil in disguise.
suddenly, his hands tried to grab at you, but you duck under his reach. your feet kick against the dirt, lunging yourself to the side as you run. your fruitless attempt at escape was cut short: your head meeting the ground as you collapsed.
a pair of hands grip at your biceps, roughly turning you over like you weighed nothing. a sluggish groan escapes your lips, and you flutter your eyes, barely making out the shape of his face.
"corio.. corio please.." you beg softly, lower lip quivering as tears clouded your sight. "it's me.. please.. you can trust me—"
"no loose ends, you know.." coriolanus interrupts, his brows knitted together. his hateful baby blues shoot daggers at you, his nails digging into your skin as he shakes your body.
"corio!" you whimper, chest heaving from exhaustion and utter terror. "i won't tell anyone.. i swear! please.. i wasn't going to say anything.."
coriolanus shakes you violently once again, offended at your words. he leans his face down to you, hot breath hitting your cheeks. fat dollops of tears roll down your cheeks, and even pinned down ruthlessly, you look softly at coriolanus.
"we promised we'd always take care of each other.." his comforting words spoken in such a cold tone did nothing to ease your mind. his nose flares, brows furrowing harder, and his nails almost drawing blood. "did you mean it?"
a beat.
you hiccup quietly, lip trembling as the words die in your throat. coriolanus' patience was drawing thin— but the utter fear in your bones ate away at you. all you can offer is a shaky nod, weak sobs mewling from you.
your simple gesture was enough to loosen coriolanus's grip on you, letting your fall back against the dirt. he chews his lower lip in concentration, his intent gaze never leaving you and you can see the cogs whirring in his mind.
his large hand gently strokes your sweating face. a flash of guilt shimmers in his eyes when you wince at his touch. coriolanus hovers over your frame, his knee now on either side of you, trapping you under him.
"you know i'd never hurt you.." he says quietly, his head lowering to yours. his pink lips barely brush against yours. his calloused fingers lightly wipe the tears and dirt staining your cheeks. "i promise."
his weak promises taste bitter on your tongue when coriolanus presses his lips to yours, his tongue swiping along your lower lip. your soft gasps are muffled as he swallows your sounds, his hands now on either side of your face.
his once warm, and gentle kiss .. now just felt cold, and suffocating.
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incognit0slut · 3 months
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Tempting the Cowboy
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Summary: The team has been trying to bring Spencer back to the BAU after he hung up his badge to live on his ranch peacefully. It’s a good thing you’ll do whatever it takes to persuade him, even if the rugged cowboy wants to bend you over in the barn.
warnings: (MDNI, 18+) softdom spence, nipple play, handjob, fingering, female and male oral, semi-public sex
word count: 6k (i had too much fun, okay?)
a/n: This is such a random plot. Cowboy spence seemed so impossible, but then again, so did prison reid and look what happened.
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Never in a million years would you ever have thought that a certified genius with an IQ of 187, after fifteen years of dedicated service to the FBI, would change career paths and settle down in the countryside. Yet here you were, driving to the middle of nowhere, trying to find that man.
The GPS led you down dusty backroads, past fields of golden wheat and weathered barns until finally, you arrived at his ranch. The scent of hay and the distant sound of cattle filled the air as you stepped out of the car and you couldn't help but feel out of place.
Your usual black pants and fitted blouse seemed like a striking contrast to your surroundings, especially with the sleek boots on your feet. Adjusting your shirt, you finally approached the farmhouse, the gravel crunch beneath your feet echoed with every step you took.
A group of men caught your eyes as they emerged from a weathered barn at the end of the road, and you found yourself approaching them instead. Clearing your throat, you called out to them.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," you began, "I'm looking for Spencer Reid. Is he around?"
The men exchanged knowing glances before one of them, a weathered cowboy with a straw hat shading his face, spoke up.
"You must be lookin' for the doc," he said, nodding towards the stable. "He's over there tendin' to the horses. You can't miss 'im."
With a grateful nod, you followed their directions. Nerves fluttered in your stomach as you walked into the stable, unsure of what to expect from the man who had once been your colleague but now seemed like a stranger in this unfamiliar setting.
As you pushed open the creaking door, the scent of leather and hay washed over you. Inside, you finally spotted him, his back turned as he tended to a horse in the corner of the room. His familiar profile was a stark contrast to the rugged surroundings, and for a moment, it felt surreal to see him in this new role.
Gone were the suits or knitted cardigans; instead, he was clad in well-worn denim and leather that gave him a distinctly different, yet undeniably attractive appearance. His sleeves were rolled up, showcasing the definition in his arms and a cowboy hat was perched on his head, its brim casting a shadow over his features, while his tousled hair peeked out from beneath it.
It was a side of him you had never seen before—one that seemed more at peace, more connected to the land than the city. And as you watched him work, the soft murmur of his voice filling the room as he spoke soothingly to the horse he was gently brushing, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt knowing you were going to ruin his peace.
As if sensing another presence in the room, he suddenly turned his head before his gaze fell on you. A genuine smile curled at the corner of your lips as you approached him. "Howdy, cowboy."
A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes as he straightened himself, which was quickly replaced with realization at your sudden visit.
"I was wondering when they'd send you here," he remarked, his tone a mixture of amusement and resignation. You returned his smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly at his familiar demeanor.
"I guess today is your lucky day." Your eyes scanned the rustic surroundings of his ranch, taking in the simplicity of his new life. "Well, this is quite the change of scenery."
He chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his tone as he gestured around the farmhouse. "It's definitely a far cry from the city," he admitted. "But it suits me."
"It does seem like you've found your place here. It's... different, but in a good way."
Spencer's smile widened at your words "It is different, and I like it here," he agreed. "Which is why I'm going to say no to whatever reason you're here."
You raised an eyebrow. "I haven't even said anything."
"You didn't have to, everyone else has already said their piece." He turned and focused his attention back on his horse. "And the answer is still no."
You silently studied him as he finished his task. He was right; your other teammates had already been here before you, trying to coax him back to the BAU. But you couldn't help but feel a sense of determination rise within you. Spencer Reid might be a stubborn cowboy now, but you knew deep down that his brilliant mind belonged with the team.
But knowing no one else could crack his stubbornness, you knew you needed a different approach and the only way you could think of was to reel him in with his current interest. "He's beautiful," you acknowledged, nodding towards the horse he was working on. "What's his name?"
"She's beautiful," he corrected. "And her name is Mildred."
The name didn't sound foreign to you. "You must really have something sentimental with that name. Didn't you name one of your mugs Mildred?"
He tipped his head back. "You remembered?"
"Of course, I do," you replied with a grin. "I remember a lot about you, even if we didn't have much time getting to know each other."
The memories of your time at the BAU flooded back. The way you joined the team right before Spencer had decided to take a break, which had turned out to be more permanent than anyone had anticipated. Although it was hard to forget a guy like him. You remembered when your eyes first fell on him and how your heart fluttered at his awkward yet charming smile.
There was something about him, something magnetic and intriguing that drew you in from the very beginning. It was a pity he had to leave shortly after you joined the team because you swore your admiration wasn't one-sided, but with Spencer gone, any hope of exploring those feelings had faded away.
As you stood before him now, you couldn't help but study how different he was yet still managed to look the same. The rugged cowboy attire he now wore seemed worlds away from the suit and tie he had once donned as a profiler, yet there was a familiarity to his features that remained unchanged.
But one thing was for sure, despite the time and distance of not seeing him, you were still attracted to Spencer Reid.
"I remember a lot about you too."
You laughed. "That's because you have an eidetic memory." Spencer simply flashed you a sheepish grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You slowly took a step forward towards him. "Can I touch her?"
He nodded, gesturing towards Mildred. "Go ahead. She's quite friendly."
You approached the horse cautiously, extending your hand to stroke her mane gently. Mildred nuzzled against your palm, her warm breath tickling your skin. A sense of calm washed over you as you felt the gentle rhythm of her breathing.
Spencer watched you with a soft smile, his gaze warm and reassuring. "She likes you," he remarked, his voice low and soothing.
You smiled back. "I like her too," you replied, your fingers trailing along Mildred's soft fur. Then your eyes glanced over to him and the gears in your head started to move. You needed to act as stealthy as possible. "So... how fast can horses go? In general?"
His smile widened at your question. "Well, it depends on various factors like breed, training, and terrain," he began, falling into his familiar role as an educator. "On average, horses can reach speeds of around 25 to 30 miles per hour, but some breeds can go even faster, reaching speeds of up to 40 miles per hour."
You nodded, absorbing the information as you continued stroking Mildred's fur while keeping your true intentions hidden behind a facade of innocent curiosity. "Are mammals usually that fast?"
"Actually, yes," he replied. "While horses are known for their impressive speed, they're not the only mammals capable of reaching high velocities."
"...how about bulls?"
Spencer raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued by your sudden interest in bulls. "Bulls?" he echoed, studying you intently.
You met his gaze, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, bulls."
He continued to scrutinize you, his sharp intellect picking up on your evasive behavior. Spencer may not work as a profiler anymore, but he could tell when someone had ulterior motives.
"Alright, what is it?" he finally asked, crossing his arms.
You sighed, trying not to focus on the way his arms flexed at the movement, and took another step towards him. If you were going to convince him to return to the BAU, you needed to be honest with him. "Well, you see, the current case we're working on is... it's a bit unusual."
Spencer's curiosity was piqued, his interest evident in how he leaned in slightly, waiting for you to continue.
"Three victims were found dead under suspicious circumstances," you explained, choosing your words carefully. "The strange part is, all three victims were found with injuries consistent with being trampled by bulls."
"Trampled by bulls?" he repeated, disbelief coloring his voice.
"It sounds bizarre, I know. There have been reports of aggressive behavior from a nearby ranch, and the local authorities suspect that the deaths may be connected to the bulls on the property. But the thing is, the autopsies showed that it might not even be caused by any type of animal."
"And you want me to help with the investigation," he summarized.
"We could certainly use your help," you admitted, hoping that he would see the significance of his involvement.
Spencer fell silent for a moment, his gaze distant as he considered your words. Then, without saying another word, he turned on his heels and began to walk towards another part of the stable, a hidden corner shrouded in shadows. Your heart sank as you watched him move away.
"I don't think I'm the person you should be looking for."
You followed him, determined not to let him slip away without a fight. "You're exactly the person we should be looking for! With that smart brain of yours and your knowledge of farm animals, we could profile the Unsub in no time."
His steps faltered momentarily as your words reached him, but he didn't turn back to face you. Instead, he continued walking, his silhouette fading into the shadows of the stable.
"I appreciate the sentiment," he called back over his shoulder, his voice tinged with resignation, "But I'm not sure I'm the right fit for this anymore."
"Reid," you called after him, quickening your pace to catch up. "Please, just hear me out."
"Y/n," he warned dangerously low. The way he spoke your name affected you more than you'd like to admit. You cautiously took a step forward.
"Do you know how long it took me to do a geographical profile of the crime scenes? Or how Alvez spent two nights going through stacks of documents when you would've finished it in like an hour?" You let out a sigh. "It's so different without you, we miss you."
He slightly faltered at your words again but remained quiet, so you tried again.
"We could really use your help, Spence, at least on this case. The team needs you." You watched him try to do some other task as if trying to ignore you. "I need you."
He remained silent for a moment longer, the only sound the soft shuffle of his boots against the stable floor. Then, slowly, he turned to face you, and there was a subtle shift in his expression, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
"...you need me?"
You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his unexpected question. The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in as you became hyper-aware of the proximity between the two of you. Your gaze involuntarily flickered over every detail of his face, taking in the curve of his stubble jaw, the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, and the lines etched on his brow.
You also noticed his lips. Those damn kissable lips, pressed together in a thin line as he waited for your response. You found yourself inexplicably drawn to them, a surge of desire coursing through you at the mere thought of what it would feel like to press your own against them.
Shaking yourself from your inappropriate thoughts, you forced your gaze back to his eyes, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment at where your mind had wandered. You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat.
"Yes," you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I-I need you."
As the words left your lips, a heavy silence fell upon the room. You could feel his eyes on you, his gaze intense and searching, as if he were trying to interpret the depth of your confession. For a moment, neither of you spoke, and you could hear the sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears, the rhythm erratic and unsteady.
"And you missed me?"
You held his gaze. While your words might not have been an outright confession, it wasn't exactly a lie, and there was no reason to deny the truth.
"I missed you," you admitted, your voice sounding more breathless than you intended. He smiled. Then, slowly, he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, the warmth of it searing through you like a flame.
"Fine, I'll help you," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "On one condition."
Your heart skipped a beat, anticipation coursing through your veins as you waited for him to continue. His gaze held yours, unwavering and intense. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, from your wide eyes to the slope of your nose, before lingering on your lips. For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sound of your shallow breaths. Then he finally spoke.
"Be honest with me," he responded, his fingers tracing a gentle path along your jawline, "Do you need my help with the case or do you need me for something else?"
You met his gaze, searching for the right words to express the truth of your intentions. "Both," you admitted after a pause, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need your help with the case, but I also... need you."
A satisfied smile curled on his lips as he gently cupped your cheek, pulling you closer. But just as you thought he would close the distance between your lips, he paused, his warm breath teasing against your skin. His next question hung in the air between you, a challenge and an invitation wrapped into one.
"Tell me what you need me for then."
Your breath caught in your throat as his lips hovered tantalizingly close to yours. "I-I need you to kiss me," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, your words tinged with urgency and desire. "Please."
His gaze darkened. "I never took you as one to beg," he remarked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "But I must admit, I quite like it."
Then slowly, almost hesitantly, he closed the remaining distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light touch. You could still feel the smile playing on his lips, but only briefly before he moved them slowly, capturing every curve of your soft lips.
He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, holding your jaw in place. His hand cradled your face, holding you gently but firmly, while his other hand explored your body. It trailed down your back, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you, before settling on your hip. You gasped at the sudden contact and he seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue delving deeper.
With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer. Your fingers tangled in his hair, knocking off his hat onto the floor before tugging lightly at the roots, eliciting a low moan from him that vibrated against your lips.
What had started as gently molding your lips together turned into a passionate dance of tongues, leaving you moaning and breathless. He slowly pulled away, his eyes slamming shut as his forehead met yours, both of you gasping for air while you tried to regain your composure. His breath mingled with yours, a heady mix of desire and need, as he spoke in a ragged voice.
"You," he gasped, his words laced with raw intensity, "Taste better than I imagined."
Your head was spinning. How could he consume you with just a kiss? You had dreamed of this moment, of being close to him, but you never imagined it would affect you as deeply as it did now.
"Do you even realize," He pressed on, his voice low with pent-up longing. "How much I've wanted to do this?"
Your head was swimming in a haze of desire as his lips trailed along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. "Yeah?" you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts.
He nodded against your neck. "Ever since I saw you."
"Wh-Why didn't you say anything?" you managed to stammer out, the words barely audible amidst the dizzying sensation of his lips on your skin.
"Wasn't sure you felt the same way."
You took a moment to process his words, the warmth of his breath against your skin adding to the whirlwind of sensations coursing through you. "You should've said something, it would make this whole convincing you a lot easier."
He paused, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses along your neck. "I don't know," he finally murmured. "I think I need a little more persuading."
His words sent a jolt of desire coursing through you, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the intoxicating sensation of his lips on your skin.
"I can persuade you in other ways."
Spencer lifted his head, his gaze meeting yours. "Then show me," he breathed, his voice thick with desire.
There was no room for hesitation. You leaned in, capturing his lips with yours in a desperate, passionate kiss, fully aware of the risk of being caught, but his mouth on your body felt too good to care. It wasn't like you hadn't fantasized about this exact moment, about the feel of his mouth on your body, the way his hands would explore every inch of you with a hunger that mirrored your own.
His hands found your hips, pushing you to the nearest wall before his fingers fumbled with the buttons on your blouse. It was clear you both decided that the risk was well worth the wait.
"May I?" He asked, his fingers still working on your front buttons.
You laughed amusedly. "You already are."
His response was a chuckle of his own before he buried his head in your neck again. The opening in the front of your shirt chilled your body, sending goosebumps all along your skin as his hands caressed over your lacy, black bra covering your breasts, thumbing your hardened nipples.
He leaned further down, trailing his lips over your cleavage, before sucking softly on the spot. The sensation made you gasp, knowing well enough that there would be marks left behind, but you didn't care. Wanting to give more to him, you reached out between your bodies and pulled down your bra, granting him more access to your skin.
His eyes drank in the sight before him hungrily. He gently rubbed against the small pebbles on your chest, wetting his lips as he did, eyes completely trained on them now. Without warning he surged forward, tongue darting out to lick a long, flat stripe against one of your nipples. You let out a surprised moan at the action, fingers tugging at his hair tightly and head tilting back before snapping down to look at him.
A choked moan left your lips as he continued sucking, licking, twirling his tongue around it while playing with the other with his hand. "Spence..." you whined, your voice sounding clear in the room.
"Shh," he mumbled against your skin. "Keep your voice down."
You nodded helplessly as he released your nipple before wrapping his lips around the other one, giving the same attention. He repeated the motion, rolling your wet nipple under his calloused palm, having you arch your back and push your chest into his face. He didn't have to be told twice, immediately giving it a hard suck while pinching the other one.
The sensation traveled along your body before it lowered between your thighs, forming an ache the second his hand trailed down your stomach. His fingers finally found the hem of your pants, before dipping underneath the material, slipping right underneath your panties. Your breath hitched when two of his long fingers slide between your folds, spreading your slick before finding its rightful place on your clit.
"You're so wet," he whispered in a daze, trailing his lips back up your collarbone. He couldn't believe how drenched you already were. "All this for me?"
You nodded, gasping when he stroked up and down your folds, coating his fingers with your arousal. Your hips buckled against his touch and he didn't hesitate when he started rubbing your clit, feeling your body writhe under him. A sudden pressure of his fingers sent pleasure shooting through you, and your head fell back to the wall, mouth agape, face flushed.
But before you could relish the pleasure, he suddenly pulled his hand out of your pants before tugging you, urging you to follow him. As he led you deeper into the stable, your heart raced with anticipation. You followed him silently, feeling a rush of excitement as he pulled you behind the stacks of hay, sheltering the two of you from prying eyes.
The rustling of the hay beneath you echoed in the room as he pulled you closer, his touch igniting a fire within you as you pressed your hands on his chest. With trembling hands, you began to undo the buttons of his shirt, and his gaze never left yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
As your fingertips brushed along his skin, you felt the warmth radiating from his body, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He wasn't muscular in the conventional sense, but there was a lean strength to him that was undeniably attractive. Your fingers continued their journey downward, skimming lightly over the softness of his stomach before teasing along the line of hair that trailed further down.
Your hands found their way to the buckle of his belt, fingers deftly working to undo it. He made no move to stop you as his gaze remained fixed on you. There was a hunger in his eyes, urging you for more, yet he remained patient, allowing you to take the lead. And then you tugged down his denim, not much than an inch but enough for you to pull his cock out.
He was warm and achingly hard, and a low, guttural sound escaped his lips as his hips bucked into your palm. His eyes fluttered closed momentarily, a shudder passing through him as he surrendered to the sensation. You looked up at him through your lashes, the corner of your lips quirked up in a smirk.
"Shh," you whispered, echoing his words. "Keep your voice down."
He chuckled softly, eyes meeting yours. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Not as much as you are."
You proved your point by tugging his cock harder, pumping up and down his length. His head fell back, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he fought to stifle his moans. You couldn't help but find it endearing, the way he struggled to keep quiet, his brows creasing in concentration. It was a pity, really, because you liked hearing the raw, unfiltered sounds of his pleasure.
You swiped your thumb along the tip of his cock, gathering the slickness before rubbing it along his length. His head snapped down to look between you, his eyes taking in the way you quickened your pace, pumping him in your hand. A sense of urgency overwhelmed him the moment your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip, and he leaned in, shoving his own tongue into your mouth.
The way your fingers gripped his cock had him moaning into the kiss which you happily accepted. As he felt that familiar knot tightening in his stomach, he knew he had to act quickly. With a gasp, he pulled away from the kiss, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as he reached between you to halt your movements. With a sense of urgency, he shrugged off his shirt and laid it carefully on the stack of hay behind you.
"Turn around," was all he said as he pushed down his pants to uncover himself, leaving you empty for the moment.
You obliged, turning while gripping the hem of your pants and slipping them down your legs. Without hesitation, you pushed your panties down before kicking them off, giving him the perfect view of your soaked slit. It didn't take long for him to drop onto the floor, his hands running along the back of your thighs.
"Look at you." He leaned closer, his breath brushing your damp skin. "Aren't you a pretty little thing?"
You leaned forward and arched your back at his words, earning a deep, low sound of approval from him. One of his hands gripped your ass, slowly kneading your supple skin as his other hand grabbed onto your right leg, hiking it over the stack of hay. He had a better view of your wetness in this position, and you bit down your lips when you felt his fingers brush over your entrance.
A finger slipped inside you, then two, and when he started to pump them in and out of your tight walls, you pressed yourself further onto the stack of hay underneath you, trying to hold yourself back from making too much noise. Your arousal dripped from your core to coat his fingers and he was mesmerized by how eager your body was for him, how your hips rocked back against his hand.
But you needed more. His touch, his warmth, his presence—it wasn't enough. Your body ached for him, every nerve alive with desire.
"Please..." you breathlessly begged him, wanting to feel him inside of you, wanting him to rid your body of the tension, of the ache between your legs. Your jaw slacked open when you felt his mouth press against your clit before giving a slight suck.
"Tell me what you need," he ordered, breath deep and raspy and strained against your wet skin. He sucked onto your aching nub once again as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you. "And I'll give it to you."
"Please," you gasped, overwhelmed with the sudden force of his fingers and tongue between your legs and the pleasure that coursed through your body. "I w-want to f-feel you."
He pulled his fingers from within you, but his mouth was still exploring the wetness of your skin. His eager tongue worked wonders against your pussy, drawing out every second of pleasure as your hips rolled against his mouth. A whimper slipped from your lips as his tongue worked on your clit faster and you found yourself unable to contain yourself any longer.
"S-Spence..." You whined, not caring how desperate you sounded. All that mattered was your need for him. "Please..."
He placed a kiss on your swollen clit. "Be specific, baby, tell me what you need."
His endearment sent shivers down your spine, and you felt yourself spiraling further. Without hesitation, you begged shamelessly, "I-I want to feel y-your cock."
A low groan fell through his lips as he got off the floor, positioning himself behind you. "Say more words like that and I may lose the hint of self-control I have."
"I just—I just need you to fuck me," you didn't recognize the choke in your voice when you whined again.
He had no intention of protesting as he slipped between your legs, finally allowing you to feel just how hard you made him. For a moment, he pushed his hips toward you, grinding his cock against your folds, feeling your arousal soak his flesh.
"Is this what you wanted?" His hand gripped his cock to ease the tip over your entrance, pushing into you slowly, gasping when your walls clenched around him eagerly.
"Fuck, yes," was all you could manage to whimper, eyes screwing shut as he filled you up. And when you could barely stand anymore, becoming a quivering mess beneath him, he finally thrust deeper, pushing his hips against your body, earning a gasp with your mouth falling open.
"Oh my god." You could barely speak, barely form words, or even think as he pressed a hand to on your lower back, holding you in place as he dragged his cock out of you, only to ram himself back inside.
"Harder," you begged him, so breathless once again, "F-Faster."
He listened to you; he listened to the way your body moved against him, the way your walls tightened around his length. The way you stifled a moan and curse and huff anytime he thrust just right to have you pushing your hips back to him, your body trembling, shaking, and your legs nearly giving out because the pleasure became too much to bear.
"D-Don't stop." You had no shame in begging him. Not when he could make you feel so good, not when he was holding onto your hips as he continued to thrust into your dripping cunt.
"That's it," he encouraged, hips beginning to fall into a steady rhythm. "Tell me how good it feels. Beg me not to stop."
"So-so good," you babbled. "Don't—don't fucking stop."
He obliged your words by pushing apart your legs even further. Your face twisted in pleasure, so sensitive and overwhelmed as his hips smacked against your ass and he thrust himself harder into you. Sweat began to bead against his forehead once he pumped his cock into you harder, faster, earning every little whimper, even the ones you lacked the strength to release.
Thoughts of getting caught, of knowing anyone could walk in when he was buried deep inside you, left both of your minds. Neither of you cared when you were so wrapped up in one another. Not when you hiked your leg higher, allowing his cock to hit the spot that had you quivering in his hold when he slammed into you again.
Then he suddenly released his grip on your hips, slipping a hand between the two of you to press his fingers to your clit. The sudden increase in pleasure had you gasping in pure bliss. The room began to spin, air rushing to your head and the harder he fucked you, the deeper he thrust, and the faster his fingers rubbed against your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold your sanity any longer.
He sensed your desperation in the way you gasped his name over and over again, and he thrust into you with more force than before. You tightened around him, squeezing him so damn hard he was tempted to lose all control right then, but he persisted in bringing your pleasure first. The sloppy sounds of your arousal coating his flesh filled the room, and with one, final thrust, you gasped before the pleasure finally consumed you.
He abruptly released your clit as he took hold of your hips again, keeping you in place while ruthlessly thrusting in and out through your bliss. His fingers pressed harder, drawing out every breathless moan, every strained whimper, every gasp of his name until your body grew too weak.
But he was far from done, slowing his hips to hit deep within your walls with aggressive thrusts, bringing his own high closer and closer as you whined from the overwhelming sensation, too sensitive, too far gone to handle much more, shuddering with every push of his cock within you.
"Where—" he groaned, your slick cunt too much for him, your juices drenching along his pelvis. "I'm close—"
You managed to snap your head over your shoulders. "Pull out, pull out."
You watched through fluttering lids as he gripped himself in his hand, and with trembling legs, you kneeled before him, gripped his cock in your hand, and took him fully in your mouth. He gritted his teeth at the sensation, sucking a breath in through his teeth as he felt your tongue dragging along his length.
You pushed further, hollowing your cheeks as you continued to swallow him down until the tip of his cock finally reached the back of your throat, nose pressed against his pelvis. He tipped his head back as you started to suck him, gagging around him when you felt him thrust his hips into you.
His eyes flicked down again at the sound only to find you looking up at him through your lashes. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, before cradling your soft cheeks in both his large hands, and began thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth. Obscene noises filled the room as he continued to use you, tears welling at your lids and saliva building at your lips, seeping down your chin.
He continued to pump himself into your mouth, slowly starting to lose control, getting so lost in how warm your lips were wrapped around him. His jaw fell open as he released a final groan, brows creasing and eyes screwed shut, thrusting so deep before the first shot of his release filled your mouth.
Then a few more shots followed and you swallowed every drop down your throat as he continued to look at you in wonder. His breath was punching out of his chest in ragged, overwhelmed gasps, sweat glittering at his temples while he silently groaned through the pleasure.
His head dipped low as you dragged your tongue up his length for the last time, from the base of his cock to the tip, and you finally licked him clean. A few moments of catching your breaths passed before he gently pulled you back to your feet.
As you both quickly fixed your clothes and adjusted your hair, he retrieved his cowboy hat from where it had been discarded on the floor, placing it back on his head with a grin. Then, without hesitation, he drew you close, his lips peppering your face with sweet, tender kisses.
You laughed at his sudden affection. "What's all this for?" you asked, smiling up at him.
"I feel obligated after... all of that," he confessed, his lips brushing softly against yours before he withdrew slightly. "You're amazing."
Your smile widened at his words, a soft warmth blooming in your chest. "And you're not so bad yourself," you replied teasingly, wrapping your arms around his neck. "So, was that enough to convince you to come back?"
"Almost," he murmured, his voice low and filled with warmth. "I think I need a bit more convincing."
You quirked an eyebrow. "I don't think I have it in me for round two."
"No, not that," he said with a laugh. His hand slid down to rest on your lower back, drawing you closer to him. "Have dinner with me tonight and I'll come by the office tomorrow."
You smiled up at him, a flutter of excitement dancing in your chest as you took in every detail of his rugged features—the subtle crinkle in the corner of his eyes, the hint of stubble along his jawline, and the warmth of his brown eyes that seemed to shine brighter in the light.
Your gaze lingered on his cowboy hat, and with a mischievous grin, you reached out to grab it, placing it atop your own head.
"Then you've got yourself a deal, cowboy."
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luveline · 6 months
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kisses before dinner —the harrington family gets ready for a dinner party. mom!reader, 3k
"...and I told mommy she needed my help but your mom doesn't like listening to me anymore," Steve says, eyebrows pulled together, "because of that one time I told her the side of the refrigerator was supposed to feel warm and it broke. But I'm usually right."
Wren blinks at him dopily where she lies in the dip of his thighs. Steve has his knees up, back flat on the couch and head propped by a pink fluffy heart pillow from Bethie's bed to speak to her face to face. 
"I promise you'll understand when you're older. I'm a genius." He strokes her little forehead. Steve's youngest daughter is too baby to look like anybody, but he's starting to think she looks like him anyway. "And now mom has to run the washing machine again when we were already super duper busy." 
"Shut up!" you yell from the kitchen. 
Bethie giggles from the same place, seemingly, raising her voice to join in, "Yeah, daddy! Shut up!" 
"That's so not nice." Steve shakes his head at Wren in dramatic disbelief. She smiles at him. "Isn't that mean? Don't you think that's sick?" 
"You're being a know-it-all again!" you continue. "And we'd be less busy if you were helping me!" 
"I'm sick of helping," Steve says conversationally. "I help all day long." 
Wren gurgles and lifts one of her hands toward him. Steve holds it in his, rubbing at her palm with a gentle thumb. She totally gets what he's saying, agrees with him no doubt, breathing out heavily as Steve gives her hand a wave up and down. 
"Steve," you say, dropping the angry act to pull him in, "please, sweetheart, I really do need your help."
"How am I supposed to say no to that?" Steve whispers. "Does she guilt trip you that way?" 
Wren doesn't giggle, but the breathy, happy sound she makes as he crunches forward to kiss her forehead is close enough to make Steve laugh himself. He moves her carefully into the curve of his arm and stands, wishing he could stretch, exhausted by another long week but undeniably happy. "Let's go see what they want," he murmurs to Wren. 
You and Bethie are in the kitchen by the stove. She's wearing oven mitts too big for her, and you're crouched behind her offering steady instructions. "Don't touch the sides, my love. Only the baking tray. If it feels warm and you're not happy, tell me, and I'll take it straight away." You wear your own oven gloves.
"I can do it," Beth insists, squaring her features. 
Beth takes the baking tray and its cookies into her hands, walking with short steps to the counter, where she slides the tray up high. You lean over her to make sure it's settled before closing the oven and dashing a kiss into her cheek. "Well done, gorgeous girl," you say, scratching lightly at her shoulder as she preens under the praise. "One day you'll be making cookies all by yourself."
"But not for a while?" she asks, startled. 
You kiss her again. "Not for a long, long time." 
"Did you need my help or my approval?" Steve asks, his hand making a small thump with each pat he taps into Wren's back. "A taste tester, right?" 
"I need you to find your other daughters. I have no idea where they are," you say with a rueful smile. 
"Okay." Steve has carried babies. He's carried them for years, tiny ones and ones too big to need it, carried nonetheless. But something about Wren in all her newness makes him nervous. He hates carrying her up and down the stairs, too aware of the times he's missed a step or tripped up. "Can you take her?" 
"Yes!" Bethie says, running to her unofficial chair at the dining table and holding out her mitted arms as she sits. 
You nod at him and take the seat next to her. Steve hands Wren over into her sister's waiting hold, more than confident you're still there to take over if things get overwhelming. Wren looks comically large in Bethie's lap. 
"I have her, dad." Beth leans down to touch her nose to Wren's. "Hi, Wren. Hello, hello," she says softly.
Steve gives your cheek a swift but loving stroke and leaves in search of the other kids. He can hear Dove in her room talking to herself in make believe, but Avery, the oldest, isn't with her, nor is she in her bedroom. Steve knocks on the bathroom door. 
"Are you in there, Ave?" 
No answer. Steve raises his voice. "I'm coming in." 
He peeks inside slowly but she's not there. Eyebrows raised, Steve asks, "Avery, where are you?" Nothing. "Avery Harrington, don't make me worry! Please." 
He lets his head drift to one side, listening for an answer. Avery rarely gets told off and she hates it; she'd jump to tell him where she was if she were up here. 
Or so he thinks. Just as he's taking the stairs again to look for her someplace he must have missed, he hears sniffling coming from the master bedroom. 
Idiot, he thinks, relief taking tight hold. He doesn't like not knowing where the girls are. He should've checked your room to begin with. 
"Ave?" he says, opening his bedroom door. "You in here?" 
"I'm here, dad," she says, peering up from the space between the top of the bed and his nightstand, kneeling on the carpeted floor. 
"What are you doing down there? We gotta get ready for Aunt Robin's party." 
Her cheeks shine in the slice of light from the open door. Steve closes it behind him and flicks on the big light, rounding the end of the bed to help her up. He hooks his hands under her arms and pulls her into his chest, bed springs creaking as their joined weight lands. 
"Why are you crying?" he asks, cuddling her to his front. "What's wrong? Why didn't you come and find me? You can't stay here crying all by yourself, that's not cool. How am I supposed to make it better if I don't know what's wrong?" 
"Dove bit me." 
Steve gasps. "Again?" 
"On my hand, dad." She holds up her wrist. "It hurts." 
He presses his cheek to the top of her head, taking her arm tenderly to analyse the bite. It's a nasty thing, not bleeding but cruel and stark. "I'm sorry," he says. 
"You said I can't be mean–" 
"No, you can't–" 
"But it was really mean." 
"I know," he murmurs, "but I just don't… we can't be mean to Dove when she bites because she doesn't know it's wrong, okay? She doesn't remember. She knows it's the wrong thing to do, but by the time I tell her she doesn't know what she did." What Steve means is that the first time Dove bit Avery, Avery reacted on impulse and slapped her sister in the stomach. There isn't a bridge yet to connect to Dove why she might have received such a thing (though Steve teaches all the girls that hitting is never okay no matter what), so Dove just thought she was being hit. It was a very tense half hour of tears. 
Steve rubs Avery's back as she starts to cry in earnest. "I will tell her not to bite you, honey. I swear, I won't let her be mean to you. I'll tell her until she understands." 
He's been trying to teach Dove not to bite, but saying 'no' doesn't seem to do anything. Positive incentives don't last, and taking her toys wouldn't make much sense, because again, she doesn't get it. 
"You know," Steve says, wiping her cheeks tenderly, "I'll tell her again and again and again until she stops, and it'll work, because it worked with you." 
"What?" 
"You used to bite me sometimes, but you used to bite mom all the time." 
Avery looks at him in horror. "I did?" 
He puts her down onto her feet and takes her hand. He'd like to tell her this story while sitting down, but Robin's house beckons and time is running short. "Mom would come home from work and you'd be very happy to see her, but she would ask you what you did today and where we went and you'd bite her." 
He peeks into Dove's room and finds her missing. Downstairs, you say, "No! No, no, babe!" and he assumes she's been found. 
"Why would I do that?" 
Steve holds her hand buoyed between them as he descends the stairs. "We decided it was because you missed her. When your Dove's age you don't know how to say that. You don't even know what that is. I'm a thousand years old and I don't even know what I'm feeling half the time. So mom stopped hugging you after work for a bit until you calmed down." 
"But I don't go to work, dad. Why did Dove bite me?" 
"What were you doing?" 
"We were playing with Mr Scruffles and the care bears and she just bit me for no reason!" 
Steve stops at the bottom of the stairs. "Were you being a bossy boots?" 
Avery glares at him. "I just told her to stop taking Funshine bear." 
"Well," Steve says, smiling at her in apology, "maybe, next time, you can come and tell me, and then I'll tell her to stop taking Funshine bear, and then when she wants to bite someone she bites me instead of you. That could work, yeah?" He would much prefer it. 
Steve takes Avery to the kitchen, where you've transferred Wren into her bassinet while Bethie eats a cookie, her cheeks messy with chocolate, and Dove languishes in your arms, small hands touching your hair curiously. 
"Dove, will you look at this?" he asks, showing her Avery's bite mark. "You see that, honey? That's what you did when you bit your sister. We don't bite."
You gasp. "No!" you say, stern but far from cruel. "We don't bite. We only bite when we want to eat something." 
Dove frowns. 
"When you bite," Steve says, trying to appeal to her smarts. It'll stick eventually. "You give Avery an owie. That's why we can't bite, okay?" 
Dove can tell she's being chided even if she doesn't totally get why. "No," she says unhappily. 
"Can you say sorry to Avery?" you ask, reassuring her with a gentle squeeze. "Say, I'm sorry, Avery." 
"Sorry, Ave'y," she mumbles. 
Avery can't glare for long. She doesn't hold a grudge, not like her dad. "It's okay. You didn't mean to." 
You beam at Avery like she's hung the moon. "You're so nice, my big girl. Can I have a look at your wrist? Did that hurt?" 
Her mother's concern draws fresh tears. You swap children, and Dove quickly forgets what happened as Avery cries in little sniffles on the countertop. Steve brims with a familiar brand of pride as you comfort her, kissing and offering treats to help her feel better. I picked the right one might be applicable, only Steve didn't choose you so much as he happened upon you one day like a miracle, and then begged to keep you. Luckily for him, you've always been very agreeable on that front. 
(As in, you love him more than can be said in any one language.) 
"What are you upto?" Steve asks Bethie.
She shows him her food-covered hands. He nods like this is awesome, but in reality chocolate stains her t-shirt and she's going to have to change before they leave. Dove rams herself against his leg and looks up with her eyes widened. 
"What?" he asks. 
"Um…" 
"What do you want?" he asks, softer. She starts to frown again. Steve bends. "Drink? Crackers?" No dice. "What about some pear slices?" 
Dove loves pears more than anything, the sticky, sugary sliced kind from the can. Her frown disappears and she walks off, thankful to be understood. Steve's just grateful he wasn't bitten.
"What else did you need?" Steve asks, winding around you where you're cleaning Avery's cheeks. A damp washcloth drips down your arm.
"More time. Have any?" 
"Wren's bag is done, bottles done, Bethie's dinner." He whispers the last part. Bethie is a picky eater and she grows pickier with time, and Robin knows this, but she's not a parent (as sweet and caring as she might be for the girls). Only something you or Steve have made is something Bethie will deign to eat, and she's insecure about it despite having no reason to be. "Beth needs a new top. Your blouse needs to go in the dryer, and I can't find my nice pants. Avery?" 
"I don't need anything." 
"You sure? You have Mr Scruffles?" 
She wraps her arms around your neck. "Just want a hug." 
"Then I guess I'm busy while daddy does all my chores," you tease Steve lightly, your touch similarly soft where it tracks up and down Avery's arm. "I'm sorry Dove bit you again. It's not fair. Not fair at all. Maybe we should only have you playing downstairs until me and dad figure it out, okay? I don't want her to keep taking bits of you." 
Steve clears the checklist. Not to brag or anything, but he's a pro. You both are. Life is hectic as always and you knew getting out the door would be a process, so you planned accordingly, and you arrive at Robin's with time to spare, though Dove smells strongly of sugary pears and Bethie's new shirt has fingerprints on the back. 
"Hi, crew!" Robin greets. "It's my favourite Harringtons!" 
"We're your only Harringtons." 
"That's not true, I went to college with a Harrington." Robin ushers the girls inside. They want one thing and one thing alone —hugs. Dove is the most insistent, dropping your hand to offer Robin her arms. She picks the small girl up and smiles at her with a monumental amount of love. Robin doesn't have favourites but Dove demands it, sometimes. Avery says, "Hello, Aunt Robin," and hugs her stomach, while Bethie puts her arm behind Avery and hugs them both. 
Steve's arm shakes. "Any chance I can get through? This is a really heavy baby." 
"Hi," Robin says, ignoring him without guilt. "You guys are the best part about having a best friend." 
Steve logs that one for later revenge and eases around the mass of bodies to take Wren into the living room. "Holy fuck," he says, "I thought you weren't coming?" 
Eddie rolls his eyes. "I wanted to see the girls. It has nothing to do with you." 
They hug and pat each other on the back, and then Eddie drops to his knees in front of Wren's car seat to smile at her. "I love her so much. Can I have this one? Y'already have so many." 
"No you absolutely cannot. Where's Dustin?" 
"They're all in the backyard. Mora's teaching them how to make grass flutes, or something." 
"How'd you get out of that?" 
Eddie shrugs. "She doesn't like me. Doesn't make any sense, goth and metal are like brothers." 
"Is she goth? I thought we settled on hippie who wears dark clothing." 
"You guys are such losers!" Robin says, like a tree adorned in girl-shaped ornaments. "Don't bitch about Mora." 
"Don't swear in front of my kids!" 
You, having taken off your shoes and coat, unlike Steve, shimmy around the table. "He said 'fucking bitch' in front of Bethie the other day," you gossip, sitting by your friend's side. Eddie gives you a quick hug. You're undoubtedly his favourite Harrington. 
"He's a disgusting man who shouldn't have kids." 
You gasp and elbow him. "How dare you." 
"Can we go play with Stinky?" Avery asks Robin. 
Robin puts Dove down, short hair flying every which way, "If you can find him. But be nice, okay? He's agitated today. Mora says it's something about the supermoon." 
Avery laughs and Dove races to follow her sister up the stairs. "Ave, remember what I said, okay?" Steve calls after her. "Come and tell me if she's being bad! And no going in the bathroom!" 
Bethie remains, oddly. Though it's obvious why she's stayed the longer she lingers, her gaze flickering between you and Eddie. 
He holds his arms out. "Hello, Beth. You want a bro hug?" 
Bethie laughs and meanders into his waiting arms, where he pat-pat-pats her back like he did to Steve, eliciting a wave of happy giggles. "You've gotten so big again!" Eddie says, moving her away kindly. "Woah!" 
"I'm glad people have stopped saying that to me," you joke. 
Steve's delighted, laughing loud and sudden, and you're always pleased to have made him laugh, practically collapsing in his direction. He pulls at you until you're arm's reach. 
"What does that mean, Eddie?" Bethie whispers. 
Eddie pulls her into his lap. "It means your mom is happy about baby Wren being born." 
"I'm really happy too." 
"I bet you are! Your dad told me you're like his little helper, is that true?" 
Steve turns into your cheek. A quick stolen moment before he kisses under your ear and pulls away. "Wow," he says, smiling at you, "could we, like, actually have a conversation right now? A full one?" 
You beam. "What do you wanna talk about?" 
Steve could happily talk about everything and nothing with you. Before bed you guys are usually tired but excited enough to be alone together that you'll talk about the colour of the new dish soap or Avery's broken pinky nail. "Seen any good movies lately?" 
You give him the look. He practically invented it, that sticky, gooey eyed love as you murmur, "Mm, no. Don't think so. How about you?" 
He leans in for a kiss. 
"Yikes," Eddie says, covering a giggling Bethie's eyes with his hands. "Robin, house rules, please!" 
Steve drops his arms heavily over your shoulders for a warm hug. "He's just jealous," he whispers. 
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lizslibrary · 2 months
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Facade
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Summary: Bucky x Reader fic where Reader is sick but decides to go on a mission anyway.
A/N: This is my first fanfiction, please comment or critique it; I am always open to suggestions. I also struggled on finding a good ending, so I just decided to leave the rest of the story up to the imagination of the reader. 🥰
Warnings: assassin!reader, Sickness; flu, overexertion, guns, fighting, fainting, Slowburn (Picks up in the end,) angst, fluff, guilt, angry Bucky
Word count: 2,007
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I lean my back against the side of the jet, trying to appear as normal as possible. We were going on a HYDRA intel mission and I was sick. I knew going on this mission was a bad decision, but I couldn’t let my team down.
 As I took a deep breath, I could feel a pair of eyes watching me; I didn’t even have to look over to know it was Bucky. He stared at me with his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted slightly backward. I could tell he knew something was wrong, but I didn’t bother meeting his gaze.
A few minutes later, the plane landed in a remote location, and slowly, the back door dropped with a soft hiss. I unstrapped my seatbelt and hoisted my gun over my shoulder walking down the ramp and into a thick layer of snow. The cold air felt nice against my flushed cheeks, and I sighed as I watched the rest of the team trail out of the jet.
Steve stood confidently as he began giving orders, “Sam and Natasha, patrol the outside; make notes of everyone entering and exiting the compound.” “y/n, Bucky and I will take the inside, working on containing and evacuating evidence that may be crucial to Hydra’s destruction.” Steve stood silent for a moment. “Does everyone understand?” 
Everyone nodded and stood next to their partners. I notice Bucky watching me from behind Steve. I turned my head away from him so I wouldn’t give myself away. I knew that if he found out I was sick, he would stop the mission and make us turn around.
“The snow is thick, walk slow and conserve energy…we have the whole day ahead of us,” Steve says, beginning to walk forward.
Everyone trudges behind Steve in silence, our footsteps making quiet crunching sounds through the snow. I follow closely behind Steve, while Bucky trails closely behind me. I make sure to place my feet in Steve's already deep footprints, the last thing I wanted was to be drained of my energy before we'd even reach the compound.
I look up at the dark gray sky; we must be high up in the mountains, looking down on what seems like endless miles of nothingness.  It wasn't surprising that HYDRA would be located here, being a rather isolated organization.
A little while later I began to make out the rectangular shape of the compound through the dense snow that was falling from the sky. My hands were getting numb from holding onto the straps on my gun holster and my legs ached from walking through the snow. Steve looked over at me, I saw concern but I just gave him a reassuring nod and pushed forward.
As we got closer, I noticed that the base was a massive, grey complex. The building was made of concrete and had no windows, just little square holes that littered the walls...it reminded me of a prison.
Steve came to a stop and crouched behind a concrete barrier, he motioned for us to do the same. The team huddled beside Steve and watched the camp, it was only a few yards away allowing us to see movement from behind the large, barbed fence.
"Send Redwing out, we need to see the safest route for entry," Steve ordered. Sam was quick to oblige, sending the drone into the snowfall.
It hovered above the entrance to the complex, giving us an accurate view of how many guards there were. There were three men posted around the entrance, all wearing black helmets. One of them remained stationed by the gate while the other two patrolled around the gate.
Sam watched the feed from the drone, scanning the screen for any more guards, "Seems like there are only three near the entrance...if you can take them out you have a clear path to a set of double doors." Sam said looking at Steve out of the corner of his eye "The problem is...how are you gonna get in?"
"Tony said that there should be a keypad on the outside, luckily for us he managed to find the code," Steve said with a small grin on his face, I could hear a small chuckle come from Bucky.
Natasha shook her head "I wouldn't expect anything less from that man."
"Sam, keep a watch on Redwing and head to the left side of the building. Natasha, you take right." Steve says "Bucky y/n, follow me...be aware of your surroundings."
As soon as the plan is said, we jump into action. Steve begins creeping towards the front of the complex, with the sound of our footsteps ringing in the snow-covered ground, while Bucky and I cover him. Steve slams his shield into the neck of one of the guards while I wrestle another to the ground and knock him unconscious. My head is spinning as I stand up but I help Bucky take care of the last guy.
With the first threat taken care of, we hurry over to where Steve is standing, "This way," Steve points at a door on the side of the building. We follow closely behind him and watch his back as he types in the code on the keypad.
  He grabs the handle and turns it.  The door creaks open slowly, revealing a very dimly lit hallway. Steve leads the way down the hall.  The smell of damp stone fills the air, with the faint scent of blood and gunpowder lingering in the air.  We follow silently behind Steve until we get to the end of the hallway, where it opens up into two different hallways.
“I’ll take the right side, y/n Bucky go left,” Steve says
Bucky and I walk down the left hallway and I can feel my palms getting sweaty with each step. Something felt wrong, where was everyone? Why were there no HYDRA agents? I glance over at Bucky and see that he has a crease in his eyebrows, I could tell he was wondering the same thing. I grip my gun closer to my chest, it was eerily quiet and something felt off…very off. 
As we near the end of the hallway we enter a large room. It was filled with old dusty computers and lots of filing cabinets. I approach one of the computers and take out the hard drive making sure to put it in my pocket in hopes that it will be important intell. I watch Bucky enter a side room and suddenly the lights turn off and I jolt when I hear the loud slam of a door shutting.
It’s pitch black and I can hear footsteps circling me in the room “Y/N!? Y/N!” Bucky is pounding his fist on the other side of the door. 
I feel disoriented and dizzy as I try and move around the room “Bucky!? Where-?” I am cut off by a gloved hand covering my mouth; I scream and slam my elbow into the person behind me.
My breathing becomes more labored as I try and fight off the people attacking me. I feel myself on the verge of passing out.
 I grab my knife out of my pocket and slam it blindly into someone's torso. I lose my balance and I fall backward, causing my head to slam against the corner of the table. I let out a yell of pain and felt a warm liquid running down my neck.
I scramble back into a wall and feel someone else's hands on me, I try and fight back but my movements are disoriented; I am helpless. 
As soon as I feel all hope is lost, the door bursts open filling the room with light. Before I know what’s happening gunshots ring out and silence fills the room. My vision is swimming and I see a familiar, blurry silhouette approaching me; guilt fills my stomach.
“M-..sorry Bucky…” I slur as fight from blacking out.
Bucky scoops me up in his arms, and before I know it he is sprinting out of the compound and into the snow. My body is limp in his arms and I can hear him murmuring incoherent prayers as he runs.
Soon, we reach the jet, and he quickly puts me on the medical table. Everything around me is blurry and I don’t know what is happening.
I am so tired. Maybe I should sleep. Bucky wouldn’t be mad if I just slept for a minute…
--------------------------------------------------
My mind is pulled into the dark, tempting world of sleep.
A bright light fills my vision as I wake up. I blink a couple of times in an attempt to get my eyes to adjust to the light. What happened? Where am I? Several thoughts plagued my mind all at once and my body flings itself into an upright position.
Bucky stands up as soon as he sees me awake "Hey, hey! You're okay, you are safe.." Bucky says, gently trying to get me to lay back down.
The memories of last night flood my mind and I feel an intense wave of guilt in the pit of my stomach. I take a small glance at Bucky and notice the relief in his eyes quickly turn to that of hurt, maybe even anger. The look in his eyes pained me to see, I knew he felt upset about my actions.
"Bucky...I-"
"Why?" he says suddenly, staring me straight in my eyes.
"I'm sorry..."
Bucky closes his eyes in an attempt to calm himself "Sorry doesn't cut it." He says sharply "You almost died y/n."
I look away from him and shake my head "I know...but if I hadn't gone someone could have gotten hurt."
I watch anger form in his expression "Liz." His serious tone forces me to look at him "Are you not listening to me? You almost died!" His tone gets louder as he talks, "When I brought you back on the jet you were burning up and sweating...did you know that your fever almost reached 103."
Bucky takes a step backward and faces the wall, he rakes his fingers through his hair. "Do you understand that had I not been there and broken through a metal wall, you would be dead." He turns to face me again "Do you not understand that if you had died in that room; I would have blamed myself?" He looked me in the eyes "Do you not understand that if you died, I would have nothing else to live for?"
"Better me dead than you," I say quietly.
Bucky clenches his fist and inhales a sharp breath "Never, and I mean never, say that shit to me ever again." He grabs my hands and stands silently. "y/n, you give me a reason to wake up in the morning; the feeling I get when I see your gorgeous, happy face in the morning makes me feel alive."
I stare at him speechlessly and he continues "I know this is a terrible place, and a terrible time but I have to tell you..." The look he gives me makes my body tingle "I love you. I love you too much to the point where it hurts...and when we were in that compound I watched as the life drained from your eyes, and I felt more scared in that moment than I have ever had in my entire life...because I knew that If you were to die, I would have nothing left to get me out of bed in the morning, I would have nothing left to get me home safe from missions, I would have no more life because without you; I have none."
Bucky's words make it feel like the world has stopped, like it's just me and him and nothing can stop us from being together. I stare at Bucky's beautiful eyes, and he stares at mine; they tell me that I am here, that I am alive, and that I'm next to the person I love and care about most in this world.
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14thgalerie · 6 months
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i peeled my orange today
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• pairing: james potter x reader
• now playing:
• word count: 1.3k
• genre: angst
— a short one that i did last night. peeling fruits had always been something that shows the tenderness of humans to me. that one poetry reading about oranges made my heart clench at the thought that came to me of best friend!reader who has always pined for james and the bittersweetness of being too late.
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There he was standing by the edge of the lake, his slender silhouette illuminated by the pale blue moonlight. At the crunch of stray leaves, he turns to look at you, his expression containing surprise.
In hushed communion, you stood in silence beside him, opting to fix your gaze on the languid current of the water before you. Capturing a mental photograph of the delicate interplay of the light as it hits the dancing small waves deep into your mind, ingraining the image to a corner that you could visit now and then when you forget the laughter that bounced against the corridors.
For a while, you chose to linger in the sound of the rusting trees surrounding the castle that casts a melody for you. You were in no rush to speak your mind, not when there was a clear understanding that he would stand sentinel for a thousand years should you want to.
17 years of friendship told you that. Threads of shared laughter and silent conversations. Tales that were shared with no urgency.
And so, in the fragile and sacred lull of the moment, you reveled in the comfortable silence. If the years it took to be freed from your heart was to be likened, it would be a while before he could fathom to be in the same space as you.
“James.” You call. Slowly, you turn your head to face him, only to discover that his attention is transfixed on you already.
Finding that gaze studying you; flickering ever so slightly across the features that painted your face— perhaps he already knew the words that were poised to slip out of you. After all, he did know the twists and turns of your soul much more intimately than any other. Those pretty eyes mirrored the waters in front of you with the light hitting the silvers on his waterline.
The 15-year-old kid within you felt enraged to see the swarm of emotions that drowned you in those eyes.
A tempest of desire, and longing, woven with heaps of frustration, and guilt. It was something that held you captive and consumed you for longer than you dare admit, threatening to swallow you whole. As you stand before him, your brain struggles to recall how exactly you escaped it.
Reaching out the hand closest to him to grab his warm hands, missing the way it enveloped your shivering ones. You couldn’t help the fluster of memories that came rushing back and the instinctive way your tear ducts activated.
“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, a tremor infused in the last syllable.
“For what?” You ask, brushing aside tears with a subtle flutter of your lashes. Thumbs caressing the skin on the back of his hand, moving with a patterned path. You didn’t notice it but he did and that realisation added to the weight to the lump that blocked his airways.
“I just stand here and yet I still manage to upset you.” He says, a hesitant exhale lingering between the words.
“What made you think that?” You press.
“If the past year wasn’t enough proof of that, then I don’t think I even know you as well as I would like.”
The words hung in the air like a storm cloud threatening to explode. His lungs relax as he realises how he held his breath when you moved your eyes away. 
The combination of his emotions, adding the ones he still couldn’t pinpoint, left him staggering in his stance. If it weren’t for the way his knees locked from his many years of quidditch, he would be beside you on his knees. 
Every second that passed felt like a sharp blade. The pain was hollow yet deep, striking the centre of his heart and reaching throughout every nerve in his body. And it was only a deep, and unending sense of devastation left in him.
He knew what was coming, a somber revelation that loomed over his head for several weeks already. Yet, he resisted the need to acknowledge it, not when your own countenance showed no obvious indication of it. Thus he indulged himself in this false pretense, allowing himself that at least. Alas, the days kept getting shorter, and the hours were swift in their passage and he was left gripped by a sinking fear as you kept getting further and further away from him even though your physical body remained next to him.
As you always did from the ungraceful encounter on the path to the Hogwarts Express when he was 11, your faces meeting the stone cold ground with a huff.
He couldn’t accept that this would be the culmination of a slow, painful unravelling and elimination of all he knew that defined his every day.
His soul was incredibly and seamlessly intertwined with yours, so intimately bound that he trembled at the thought of the scissors you wield, deadly afraid that they would sever it when he least expected it, leaving behind a scorching mark upon his very essence.
“I peeled my orange today.”
In the hushed atmosphere, your words hung in the air, an admission that crushed you to admit out loud. But from the anguished expression of the man opposite you, you could easily surmise that his emotions far surpassed yours and were nowhere near the ones that hit him at such a mundane divulgence. 
The lake’s tranquil waves lapped against the shore in a rhythmic pattern. The serene waters played a soothing contrast to the tempestuous tide swirling in the recesses of his mind.  He didn’t say anything for a while, the silence between you was heavy with unspoken shared vulnerability. 
However, for you, surprising as it was, it was nothing but a statement now. The words transcended meaning except for a mere reflection of a newfound learning. Something you were proud of enough that you shared the thought with him.
At last, he spoke, his voice filled with subtle remorse that is obscured by a quirk of tenderness that he kept reserved for you. “You did? You didn’t spill the juice all over your hands?” 
James was surprised at himself for the unexpected eloquence that flowed from within him, a symphony of words that were likened to a normal conversation between the two of you. Astonished at the way his voice remained unnervingly steady and held no tremors. It seemed as if the invincible, vice-like grip that threatened to crush his vocal chords vanished.
You cast your gaze upon him again, your eyes directly looking at his own. In that silent exchange, his vulnerability was laid bare, accompanied by a sense of helplessness in them.
Because unlike you, that sentence meant a lot more to him. Because for him, it meant that he could no longer tell you how much he loved you when he couldn’t peel oranges for you anymore.
Your impatient self wouldn’t be hovering next to him as his hands tenderly tore apart the tough skin of the citrus until the soft flesh of the fruit was revealed. The scent of sweet citrus filling the air and the twinkle in your eyes at the pleasing aroma as he splits it apart. The calloused flesh on his fingers that were a stark contrast to the way the figures were so gentle in separating each slice.
It meant that he could no longer ignore the pout that formed when you noticed how he gave you the better half.
James’ heart ached and throbbed in the worst ways possible at that bitter realisation.
“I love you.” 
So despite knowing it was too late, he summoned the courage to tell you in the way you’ve always yearned for in the sidelines. 
In reply, you whispered “I love you too.” accompanied by a genuine smile that felt natural.
He just didn’t expect your hurt to feel like this. 
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masterlist
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drurrito · 1 month
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Are You The One? - One
A/N: I've been sitting on this idea for a minute. Some quick background on AYTO: it's a gameshow -- there's usually 9 or 10 couples that are matched based on compatibility. They have about 10 weeks to figure it out by playing games and going on dates. They pair off at "matching ceremonies" to see how many light beams they get to clue them in on who might be a perfect match. Anyway, here goes nothing--all mistakes are mine of course.
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, Jerk!Vision lol
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No match!
Wanda stares at the screen, mouth agape and mind racing. Vis squeezes her hand.
"Wanda-"
"You're not my match," Wanda whispered, "you're not my match and we only have two matching ceremonies to figure everything out."
"That doesn't change what we have," he turns to her, taking both her hands into his.
"It changes everything," Wanda bites, "I wasted so much time with you," she runs a frustrated hand through her hair. Vis just stands there, arms stupidly hanging by his sides. Wanda thought she was winning this game by sticking with him. She ignored everyone's pleads for her to pick someone else the last few matching ceremonies. That one beam of light was her and Vis without a doubt.
Until now.
"My match is still here," she's quiet again. Vis looks like he's still processing. He's been extremely persuasive up until this point. Vis would just talk Wanda out of actually playing the game every time she mentioned talking with anyone else. To the rest of the house, he sounded like a broken record, but to Wanda--he sounded like her favorite song.
"So, that's it?" Vis mumbles, his face contorts into something like disbelief, he looks foolish.
"That's the point, Vis," Wanda doesn't spare a second glance at him as she leaves.
----------------
The house buzzes with conversation. Wanda is sitting on the patio alone, twirling her glass in her hand.
"Hey," Shuri slowly approaches the seat across from Wanda. After the Truth Booth, everyone gave Wanda some kind of sympathy. A hug, some words, tight smiles and other gestures that did nothing to stop Wanda's stomach from churning something awful. The guilt has been making her shoulders sag heavily since coming back.
"We've been crunching the numbers," Shuri starts again, Wanda keeps her eyes on the dancing glass in her hand.
"We think your match could be y/n."
That gets a side glance and cocked eyebrow from Wanda, "she barely talks."
"Because she makes you do all the talking," Shuri shoots Wanda a knowing look who only rolls her eyes in response. You were good at getting Wanda to talk on your group dates. It only took a few questions to spark a conversation among the whole group, actually. Sometimes you just shared a comfortable silence, it threw Wanda off so bad. How can you connect with someone without a conversation?
"Look, y/n has won two dates in a row with you, that's two more dates than Vis ever won. Plus, you guys haven't sat together at a matching ceremony yet. If it's not you, then it has to be Carol--but we don't have any more time left to figure this out. If some of our guesses end up being correct this week, then we can figure out the rest of the matches from there."
"So you want me to sit with someone that I have no chemistry with?" Wanda asks, trying not to sound less than amused with the plan.
"Technically, you don't have chemistry with anyone," Shuri says without missing a beat, it makes Wanda flinch.
"But," Shuri drawls, "now that Vis isn't helicoptering over you, there are a few days to see if something sparks between you and y/n before the ceremony."
Wanda shifts in her seat with a heavy sigh that all but burns her nose. Outside the island, finding love is hardly ever a team effort. But in this game, teamwork is key. While getting a blackout would have costed money from the prize fund, it would have crossed off a lot of potential couples. That one beam belongs to someone, just not to Wanda and Vis.
"Have you talked to y/n about this?"
"Told her before your Truth Booth," Shuri flashes a nervous smile, "if it's any consolation, she was also hesitant at first."
Wanda can't help but look puzzled. She chews on her bottom lip for a few moments before nodding slowly.
"Alright, I'm in."
------------
Wanda walks back into the house with Shuri. Everyone is sitting around in the living room, half of the group is gossiping about Bruce and Natasha sneaking off into the boom boom room for one last time. Shuri gives Wanda a parting glance before sitting down next to Namor. Half the room has paired off into new couples, Wanda realizes. Vis is nursing a bottle between Tony and Steve, Wanda doesn't look at him as she makes her way over to you. You're busy nodding along to whatever Thor is talking about, while Carol is leaning against you as she talks to Maria. Your eyes are on Wanda as soon as she fills in the space between you and Thor.
"Hey," you give a warm smile that Wanda barely notices over the burn of the alcohol in her throat.
"Hey," she rasps back to you.
"I'm sorry about today," you look frustratingly genuine as Wanda searches your eyes for a few beats, looking for a reason to be mad at you. She gives up, turning back to her glass to down the rest in one gulp.
"Yeah, me too."
---------
As it turns out, you're also good at having conversations. It only took one "and what about you?" from Wanda to get you to actually participate. Vis was seething from his spot on the couch until Tony tugged him away to talk with another group. Maria had to do the same against Carol's protests when she realized you and Wanda were trying to hit it off. Your housemates continued to leave until it was just the both of you sitting on the couch. Wanda never noticed. She figured the two of you were alone this whole time with the way you looked at her.
Wanda is listening to you talk about your favorite movie when she fails to stifle a yawn.
"Shit, it's late," you watch the clock in the kitchen, realizing that you can hear it's ticking now. The rest of the house is dead silent. Wanda thumbs at the ring on her index finger. Shit, where is she supposed to sleep now? All the beds are likely taken.
Except for one.
"Hey," your voice is gentle, "I can sleep on the couch, you take the bed."
"I'm not going to ask you to do that-"
"You don't have to," you take a breath, "I just want to give you space, if you want it."
Wanda's brows furrow, space? She thinks back to the night when Vis made out with Hope and insisted on sleeping splayed on top of Wanda afterward. Space was never an option with Vis, that's why she's looking at you like you just grew a second head. You wordlessly grab Wanda's glass to wash, your way of giving her some time to think it over. You're drying off your hands when Wanda walks up to the bar.
"What side of the bed do you sleep on?"
-------------
Wanda tries not to think about the fact that you like to sleep on the left side while she tries to fall asleep on the right, the side she prefers.
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rinzsu · 5 months
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FLOWERS, MY LOVE .ᐟ
cw: itoshi rin, fluff, gender neutral, established relationship, wc 300+, this is by far my fav piece of mine your boyfriend has other methods to express his love for you
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„rin.. what are you doing?“
silence, followed by the slight crunching sounds the paper made as he folded it. that’s right.
itoshi rin, sat on the floor of your living room, surrounded by loads upon loads of pastel pink paper, folding it into dozens of little flowers.
you took a step closer, picking up a blossom that was laying astray before examining it closely. it must’ve been one of his first tries.
it’s petals were uneven, with one or two of them bent downwards. overall it looked like it was on the brink of falling apart, disfigured by the way he must’ve haphazardly thrown it on the wooden floor in his frustration of messing it up.
you smiled. he must’ve spend hours on making these, you noted while looking at the bunch to his left, little pastel flowers piling upon another.
you took another step towards him, stopping beside him to examine the flower he was currently crafting.
it looked downright perfect, petals forming a little crown around a little silver gem in the middle of the blossom matching perfectly with the soft pastel pink of the paper.
“are these for me?”
your question seemed to have startled him, the little jump he made upon noticing your presence beside him gave him away.
he turned to look at you, cherry red tinting his cheeks as his eyes washed over with confusion and guilt.
“you’re home early. you weren’t supposed to see them before they’re done.”
you giggled at him. he looked at you embarrassed before turning back to his task at hand. stubborn as ever.
you watched as he turned the flower in his hand, it’s downside facing upwards as he took ahold of the liquid glue, filling it into the small hole on the bottom before carefully closing it with a soft green pipe cleaner.
he gently collected the other flowers beside him, adding the his newest creation into the bunch before tying it tightly with a cream colored ribbon.
your boyfriend took one last look at his masterpiece, handing it to you together with a small note after giving an approving nod and a satisfied hum.
you gratefully accepted the bouquet, hugging it close to your chest while reading the little note.
with love, your rin
you smiled. these last few days rin has been feeling guilty every time you said i love you.
you understood tho, knowing full well that some people have difficulties expressing their feelings verbally, especially this early into your relationship.
you turned to look at him again, anticipation and nervousness swimming in those teal orbs of his.
“thank you rinnie.”
i understand. i love you too.
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© rinsque 2023. plagiarism, translation and distribution of my works outside of tumblr is not permitted.
note. this is a repost from my old blog. while i tried not to repost too many of my old works,, i just can’t live without this one for it is one of my favorite pieces
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mokulule · 3 months
Text
The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached (Catnip) - part 10
First|Masterlist
It was near noon. Tim was in civilian dress outside of Jason’s door. He took at deep breath. Worrying did not help. It did not help to think about the fact that Jason had pointed a gun at Bruce last night. That he had looked very close to pulling the trigger.
It wasn’t that Tim hadn’t noticed something was up with Jason. Of course he’d noticed, a blind man would have noticed. But this was Jason, something was regularly up with Jason. And like when wasn’t his relationship with Bruce strained? Basically never? 
But things had been getting better. Jason had stopped crime-lording, left that to his lieutenants, who as long as they followed the rules, operated relatively unmolested in Crime Alley. It worked. He kept apart, but he was on the same comms as them. He helped out if there was trouble. He cared, they all knew he did. Even if things were still hard. 
It was a bit back and forth but generally the relationship between the bats and Red Hood had been getting better - like the overall trend, Tim had a graph. There was a prognosis that Jason may join them for Sunday dinners in a couple of years. So it was not so weird that Jason had been drawing back, Tim had assumed that was just some of the regular fluctuation that happened now and again. 
But this?
Jason pointing a gun at Bruce?
That was more than just a fluctuation! That was something else, and it all lead back to Jason meeting the Ghost about 5 weeks ago. Jason had been odd that night, there had been something uncertain, hesitant, about him. Tim had brushed it off at the time, there could be any manner of reason for Jason to act a bit off, guilt being the obvious one. Jason for all his gruffness did not like accidental violence, his violence had a purpose and was doled out to those he deemed deserving. 
At one point that had been Tim. 
That thought sat heavy in his chest as he took another deep breath. 
Was he the best person to do this? No, probably not. But someone needed to do it. Dick was on a Justice League mission halfway around the world. Cass would probably have been safest, least likely to piss Jason off, but Tim couldn’t outsource this. Tim needed to talk to Jason, to assess him himself. 
Finally, heart steeled, he knocked on the door. 
There was movement inside, footsteps coming to the door. There was a rumble in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the text:
You should not be here.
Tim scowled at the door. “I am not leaving. I need to talk to you.”
There was a moment of silence that dragged. Tim would wait out here all day if he had to, he was stubborn like that and Jason knew it, which is why eventually the sound of the locks turning reached him. Tim carefully kept the victory out of his face. 
Jason didn’t meet his gaze as he let him in and locked the door behind him. He didn’t bother to reset the traps. Instead he padded barefoot over to the kitchen counter.
“Coffee?” He asked, voice scratchy.
Tim didn’t respond immediately eyes too busy following the small trail of blood Jason left behind where he stepped. 
“Tim?” His eyes snapped up, meeting Jason’s tired eyes. 
“You know me,” Tim finally responded weakly. Jason looked… sick, was probably the best word. He was pale, the bags under his eyes so dark they looked bruised. His hair was unwashed and there was something about the weariness in his posture that made him look small in his loose t-shirt and sweatpants. 
Something about the image deeply alarmed Tim and he retreated with a, “I’ll just use the bathroom real quick.”
He noticed the crunch under his shoes even before he saw the broken mirror over the sink; that explained why Jason’s feet were bleeding. Fuck. He sank down onto the closed lid of the toilet and put his head in his hands. This was so much worse than he’d thought. Tim could handle anger, not whatever that was.
“Fuck,” he repeated his earlier thought, quietly and emphatically. Then stood, flushed and washed his hands, to keep up appearances - for something to do. Stalling didn’t help.
He walked back out to find Jason sitting at the small kitchen table with two cups of coffee, one of them placed in front of the empty seat across from him.
Tim sat down and picked up the mug with both hands. He sniffed the rich aroma before taking a sip, Jason had great coffee.
“What do you want, Tim?”
Tim looked up and opened his mouth to reply, something, a deflection, but Jason didn’t let him.
“You’re obviously not here for my sake, so cut to the chase.”
Tim’s mouth clapped shut and his lips thinned. Outrage burst in his chest at the implication that he didn’t care. But Jason was right. He wasn’t here to check on Jason for his sake, he was here to assess him. To make sure what happened last night would not happen again. He was there for them, for the mission, not for Jason. 
Jason was right and it stung. 
Well far be it for Tim to further try to delude them both. 
“I need you to stay away from the Ghost.”
“Like Hell!” Jason snarled jumping to his feet, and there was the Jason Tim had expected, and he held the instinctive fear in an iron grip, not letting it reach his face. There was only a tiny tremble as he brought the cup back up to his lips.
Jason paced. Then turned on Tim, eyes with just a hint of the green they didn’t talk about.
“You cannot bench me,” he spat.
“I’m not. I’m asking you, Jason.” Tim carefully set down the cup.
Jason frowned and this was the one chance Tim had to convince him, he had to make it count.
“He disappears as soon as you get within 20 yards of him. I will figure out a way to capture him, but I cannot do that when he keeps disappearing. I need you to hang back.”
Jason was wavering, his hands clenching and unclenching.
“Please.” Finally Jason sighed and the weariness was back, he sat back down heavily. Leaning his head on his hand he spoke quietly, “he needs help, Tim.”
Tim didn’t know what made Jason so certain of that, but Jason didn’t know what Tim suspected either, what the ghost could be building. 
“But first he needs to be stopped.”
There was a long moment of silence...
“I’ll hang back.”
“Thanks.”
-
Taadaa! The misery continues... Things will be coming to a head soon, I don't know if you can feel it? I just have to write a small Danny POV, and then Tim coming up with the plan and then we'll get into it, it's exciting.
If you wanna subscribe to the story you can do so here
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lendeah · 4 months
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My first fanfic post! Hope you enjoy it, and feel free to share any requests💌
THE GRAVE SCENE™️
Summary: You know the summary😈 A reimagining of the infamous grave scene.
Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav
Word count: 4.9k
Warnings: + 18, NSFW, dom!Astarion
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*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚
The morning after the battle with Cazador, the heaviness in my limbs felt like weights, my muscles aching and sore from the physical exertion of the fight. But it was the weight on my heart that was truly crushing, each beat feeling like a burden too heavy to bear. Astarion wasn't in the camp, as he had rushed out after killing his former master, needing to be alone to process the turmoil within him. The image of his primal screams as he repeatedly buried the blade into Cazador's chest was burned into my brain, haunting me with every breath. As I watched helplessly with my companions, Astarion was torn apart piece by piece, both physically and emotionally. I knew that sound would haunt me in my worst nightmares for years to come.
At that moment, my fingers longed to reach out and comfort him, but deep down I knew it would be more for my own benefit than his. So I remained still, my hand held tightly by Shadowheart's as I had to witness to the man I loved being ripped appart. I didn't shed a tear when Astarion screamed at me in rage and pain, didn't cry when he refused to come back to camp that night. But as soon as the moon rose high in the sky and everyone else fell asleep with somber looks in their eyes, I allowed myself to finally break down.
I sobbed and screamed into my pillow, releasing all of the pent-up emotions that threatened to consume me. My heart felt heavy with grief and guilt. I had been so caught up in trying to protect everyone and defeating Cazador, as well as our other enemies that I didn't realize how much Astarion was struggling with his past. I should have paid more attention, should have reached out to him sooner. His hunger for power was no secret to me, but as he begged and cried in front of me, I almost caved. Even though I stood by my decision of not helping him ascend, a part of me felt guilty for taking the choice away from him, much like how Cazador had done.
The sun had long since set and another day had passed, but still I remained in bed, cocooned in my sheets with only the sound of my own sobs to keep me company. The weight of the world seemed to press down on me as I lay there, until with a heavy sigh, I finally mustered the strength to sit up. With trembling hands, I wiped away my tears. It was time to face Astarion, to offer him whatever comfort and support he needed. Even if it meant braving his anger or facing his rejection.
The darkness of the night surrounds me as I step out of my tent, the moon casting a pale light across the campsite. I can see Astarion's tent in the distance, a small flicker of light coming from inside. The only sound is the soft crunching of leaves and twigs under my feet as I make my way across the place. My hands tremble slightly as I reach out to pull back the flap of Astarion's tent. When I take my first step inside, I notice it is lit by a single flickering lantern, casting shadows on the canvas walls. The dim light revealed the scattered remnants of broken objects, and in the center of it all, I can see Astarion sitting cross-legged on a bedroll, his eyes red and puffy from crying.
At first, I think he hasn't noticed me, but then he turns to me with a wistful expression "I should probably start getting used to the shadows again. Who knows how long I have left in the sun?" He says, his voice rough. The thought tightens my chest and I resist the urge to reach out and hold him
"Don't say that" I reply softly "we could still find a way to control the tadpole."
I take a seat beside him on the bedroll, being careful not to startle him.
"Maybe, but even if I could control it, it's a dangerous game. I'd spend every day waiting for something to go wrong." He says, his eyes filled with sorrow. "For the tadpole to find some new trick, reassert itself, and make me a slave again. Maybe never seeing the sun again is just the price of freedom." he finishes, his voice cracking with emotion. Seeing him so broken shatters my heart into a million pieces.
"I'll be with you either way." I reach out slowly, my fingers trembling as I grasp his hands, trying to convey my feelings through touch. "I hope you know that," I whisper, my voice barely above a breath.
He looks at me, his face softening as he takes in my expression. His guarded walls seem to crumble, revealing a vulnerability I hadn't seen before.
"I think I do." He says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth ",assuming we survive, of course. Because a horrible death is always just around the corner with you." His lips curl up into a mischievous smile and his eyes sparkle with amusement. I can't help but grin back at him. His hand gently squeezes mine, sending a reassuring warmth through my fingers. We sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, enjoying each other's company.
But then, his face takes on a more serious tone. "There's... something I'd like to show you, if that's all right? Something out in the city."
I frown "What is it?"
"Something I haven't shown anyone else." he says with a shy secretive smile.
"Oh, how mysterious" I reply teasingly "Fine, I'll come," I say, making sure to play up my casual indifference.
We step out of the tent and into the night, as he silently takes me along the city, and I let myself be guided into the dark streets of Baldur's Gate. The city is alive, even though it's around midnight, streets buzzling with the sounds of merchants haggling, people drinking, and horses trotting. It's a stark contrast to the darkness and sadness that had filled the tent just moments ago.
He takes me through narrow alleyways and side streets, navigating through the crowds with ease, as if he has made this way many times before. Finally, we come to a halt in front of the metal fence doors of a... Cemetery?
His usual playful demeanor is gone. I can feel the weight of each step, every breath I take as I follow him deeper into the eerie silence of the place. The moonlight casts a ghostly glow upon the rows of tombstones, echoing through the stillness of the night. The graveyard is appropriately silent - there isn't a proverbial soul around.
I raise an eyebrow, looking at Astarion with confusion and skepticism "A little stereotypical, don't you think?" I joke, breaking the silence.
"Perhaps, but some things are classics for a reason." he replies.
As we walk through the space between graves, I can feel the weight of death around us. We stop in front of a worn tombstone, looking really neglected. My heart drops, as I comprehend the reason why we are here. I watch Astarion as he kneels down and wipes away the layers of dust and dirt, revealing the name more clearly. Astarion Ancunín.
"Nearly two hundred years and I never came back." he says, his voice heavy with emotion. "Not since the night I woke up down there. I had to punch a hole in the coffin and claw my way through six feet of dirt. Then when I finally broke the surface, retching up dirt and congealed blood, Cazador was waiting. From that day on I was his." His face contorts as he recalls the memory. "Until today." He ends, in a whisper.
I slowly place a hand on his shoulder, trying to offer some sort of comfort. "You were never his. Whatever he had, he took it by force" I say, looking deep into his red eyes.
"Maybe, but he did take it. There is almost nothing left of the person I was. Just a name on a rock" He adds with sorrow. "For nearly two centuries I stalked the Streets like a ghost while the person I was lays here, dead and buried. Now I need to figure out who I am, what I want." A small smile plays on his lips as he meets my gaze, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
"And, what do you want?" I ask, my heart fluttering with excitement.
He stays silent for a few seconds, and then
"You... I want you." he finally confesses, his voice raw with vulnerability. Another moment of silence follows "You were by my side through all of this. Through and pain and missery. You were patient. You cared. You trusted me when that an objectively stupid thing to do." He pauses, swallowing hard before continuing. "I feel safe with you. Seen. And whatever the future holds for me, I don't want to lose that."
My chest constricts at his words, my eyes watering a little. I had always felt a strong connection with Astarion, but hearing him express his feelings so openly and honestly makes my heart swell. Astarion's face is illuminated by the moonlight, his red eyes sparkling with emotion and his lips turned up in a small smile.
"You won 't." I whisper, my voice laced with determination. "Whatever comes next, I've got you." I say, as my hand reaches out to cup Astarion's cheek, feeling the soft edges of his skin.
"Thank you" he says softly, and after a beat, he looks at the gravestone again "Well, I should probably fix this"
The metal glints in the moonlight as he carefully carves a new date on the stone, marking the beginning of a new chapter in his life. Astarion kneels over the damp, musty earth, his eyes focused on the gravestone in front of him. The moonlight casts a soft glow on his face, emphasizing the lines of determination and sorrow etched into his features. As the vampire gets silently lost in his thoughts, I am struck with an idea, a simple yet touching gesture. I search around until I find what I'm looking for, and I pick a small flower from the ground. I slowly kneel next to him, and place it gently on the grave, adding a splash of color to the otherwise shadowy scene.
A small smile spreads across his face when he notices, "Cute" he says, the word rolling off his tongue like a caress. With a sigh, he follows "I've been dead on the ground for long enough. It's time to try living again" He turns his body to me, reaching for my hands and holding them tightly in his. "With everything that life has to offer"
My heart stutters at the implication of his words.
"Meaning...?" I ask, trying to sound coy. A mischievous smirk plays on his lips as he leans in closer and whispers,
"If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded" His words send shivers down my spine, and I laugh, feeling a surge of desire mixed with anticipation.
"Sounds good to me" I whisper back, my voice filled with playful allure.
He brings a hand to my cheek, stroking it lightly, "You know, I didn't care for you when we first met. But I do now. Being with you is about more than lust or manipulating you into a tactical alliance." He pauses, steady gaze locked onto mine. "I love you." he breathes "I love this. And I want it all"
My heart is about to burst out of my chest, tears threatening to flow out of my eyes. There is only one thing I want in that moment, as I lean in slowly, my lips meeting his in a soft kiss.
"I love you too" I confess against his mouth. The moon shines down on us as Astarion's lips press against mine. It is a gentle kiss, filled with love and longing. I reach back, running my fingers through his white strands. My heart swells with emotion as I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. Astarion's hands move down to my waist, pulling me even closer as our bodies melt together in the cool night air.
Our kiss intensifies, becoming more passionate and urgent. Astarion's tongue dances with mine, exploring every inch of my mouth. I moan into the kiss, feeling pure pleasure coursing through my body. Then, he lays back for a moment, and looks at me with a fire in his eyes I have never seen before. With a wicked smile, he pushes me down onto the dirt of his own grave, and my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. His red orbs flash with raw desire as he hovers above me. Astarion's lips descend upon mine again, my fingers finding their way into his curls again, his skin warm against my own.
The moon casts its silvery glow over us, illuminating our passion in the eerie quiet of the cemetery. Every sensation heightened, every touch more intimate, as we surrendered to the ecstasy of the night.
As Astarion's lips trail down my neck, and I shiver with desire, my heart pounding erratically. He kisses my neck, my collarbone, my chest - wherever he can reach, with slow, deliberate moves. He slowly pulls away, staring into my eyes with a fierce intensity, as his hand trails down my cheek, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw. Suddenly, I am aware of how long it has been since our last encounter, when he asked me to keep things non-sexual for some time.
"Are you sure about this?" I whisper , concern lacing my words "We don't have to rush it if you are still not ready".
His eyes darken at my words.
"I'm more sure than ever," he replies, voice barely above a breath. With that, he leans in again, his lips crashing into mine. I can feel the urgency in it, the hunger that courses his body as he claims me.
With nimble fingers, Astarion swiftly undresses me as if it were an art form. My heart races with anticipation as his eyes drink in every inch of me.
He lowers his lips to my neck, trailing soft kisses down my throat to my collarbone. I tangle my fingers in his hair, silently begging for more. But instead of his usual fangs piercing my skin in hunger, he showers me with gentle kisses, each one making me shudder. My skin prickles with goosebumps as Astarion's fingertips trace over every inch of my exposed flesh, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through me.
Astarion's lips trail down my chest, his hands exploring every curve and dip of my body. I can't hold back the moans that escape my lips as he kisses and nips at every sensitive spot he finds. He looks up at me from the spot between my legs, and I swear it's the most sensual sight I've seen in my life: his lips swollen and glistening with the taste of mine, his hair tousled and his cheeks flushed with passion.
"My god, you are breathtaking" I say under my breath.
He chuckles, warm breath brushing against my inner thighs. "I'm well aware".
And then he dives in. His tongue darts out to taste me, lingering on my most sensitive spots, swirling and teasing me to the point of insanity. I arch my back, trying to push deeper into his mouth as the pleasure builds, my heart pounding in my chest. I moan his name, the sound lost in the cemetery's silence. My body trembles with the pleasure, my muscles tensing and then relaxing, over and over again. I can feel Astarion's hands on my thighs, his fingers slowly massaging the insides of my legs.
"Astarion," I breathe, my voice barely audible over my own gasps and moans. "I need more."
He looks up at me, his eyes filled with passion and hunger. His lips curl into a smirk.
"How do we ask?" he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
With a wicked grin, Astarion lowers his head again, his lips brushing against me, tasting me, teasing me. I shiver with anticipation, my body responding to his every touch. I grip the dirt beneath me, as my heart pounds hard in my chest.
"P-please" I cry out.
Astarion's lips curve into a smirk at my plea, his fingers trailing down my thighs as he continues to kiss and nip at my skin, but not where I want him most. "Please what, my dear?" he asks in a low voice, his breath hot against my skin.
I bite my lip, trying to catch my breath as I struggle to form coherent words. "I...I want..." I stammer.
And then, he thrusts two fingers inside me. I cry out, my body jerking in response. Astarion's fingers move in and out of me, his thumb pressing against my clit in a slow, rhythmic motion.
"You meant this, right?" He asks, his voice low and husky. I can only bring my hands to his hair and give it a sharp tug in response. At this, Astarion lets out a low groan, his mouth working harder. His fingers continue to move inside me, his pace increasing as my body responds to his touch. I can feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, my mind consumed with nothing but pleasure.
I arch my back, pressing myself against him, wanting more of him. Astarion's free hand moves up to cup my breast, teasingly pulling at my nipple and squeezing it as he continues to thrust his fingers inside of me. The combination of sensations is almost too much for me to handle, my head going dizzy and vision blurry. I can feel him everywhere.
"Please," I beg again, my voice hoarse with desire.
Astarion pulls his fingers out of me and I whimper at the loss of contact. But before I can protest, he guides me into a sitting position and kneels in front of me, slowly getting out of his clothes. I take my time to admire his lithe body, the planes of the muscles decorating his chest and stomach. He gazes up at me with darkening eyes before leaning in to kiss me passionately.
His hands roam over my body while our tongues dance together in a heated frenzy. I can taste myself on his lips and it only adds to the intensity of the moment.
He pulls me into his lap, and when I lower my gaze, I see that I wasn't the only one affected by his ministrations. His arousal is evident against my thigh, and a shiver runs through me at the thought of what's to come.
My hands glide over his strong shoulders, running to his back, feeling the ripple of his muscles and the scars beneath his skin as he continues to explore every inch of my body. His breath hitches, latching his mouth to my neck and sucking hard. Then, he reaches my breasts, taking one of them into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the hardened nipple while massaging the other with his hand. I moan loudly at the sensation, arching my back to offer more of myself to him. Astarion's hand travels down my stomach and between my legs as he continues to suck and tease at my hardened nub. His fingers trace over my folds before delving inside once more.
I gasp at the feeling, pleasure coursing through me as he sets a steady pace with his fingers. His mouth now moves to my other breast, giving it just as much attention while still pleasuring me below. The combination is almost too much for me to handle and body trembles with ecstasy as Astarion brings me closer and closer to release.
But just when I think I can't take it anymore, he removes both his mouth and fingers from me. When I look back at him, his eyes are hooded with lust, and he has a devilish smile over his lips, showing his canines.
I whimper "Stop teasing".
Astarion chuckles at my plea, his eyes dark with desire. "But teasing you is so much fun," he says, his voice husky.
I pout at him, but deep down I know I am enjoying every moment of this game between us.
"Fine" he says finally "No more teasing", and he smirks again. Then he grabs my body effortlessly and turns me into his gravestone on my hands and knees. "Hold on tight, sweetheart," he commands with a mischievous glint in his eye. Goosebumps spread across my entire body, but I can't decipher if they are from excitement or fear. As I place my hands on the tomb, I feel the coolness of the stone against my skin, it's rough edges. I lay my eyes on the new carvings, the name in it, a bittersweet irony washes over me as I realize that this place, where he took his last breath, is now a site of new beginnings and life, and the profanation of his tomb doing nothing but stir me on.
I feel him position himself behind me, his hands roughly grabbing my hips and pulling me back against him. The tip of his erection presses against my entrance, and I can't help but shiver in anticipation.
I feel him leaning above my body "Are you ready?" he whispers in my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine.
"Yes," I breathe, my voice barely audible. I'm still trembling with desire, but I'm ready for him.
With one swift movement, Astarion thrusts inside me, filling me completely. My breath catches in my throat as he fills me with his thickness, and I moan out loud in pleasure and pain. He pulls out almost all the way, then thrusts back in, deep and hard. My hands grip onto the gravestone, my nails digging into it as I try to hold on to something, anything, to ground myself.
"Harder," I plead, my voice shaky.
Astarion obliges, his thrusts becoming faster and harder.
"You like that, don't you?" He groans.
I can feel every inch of him inside me, stretching me and filling me completely. Astarion's hands move from my hips to my breasts, squeezing and massaging them roughly. I arch my back, pushing myself against him as he hits just the right spot inside me and I whine loudly. Astarion's pace starts to become erratic, his breathing heavy against my neck. His hand reaches between my legs again, massaging my clit as he continues to thrust inside me like crazy. The combination is mind-blowing and I can feel myself feeling so close to ecstasy. By now, I'm sure I am drooling over the ground beneath, but I can't bring myself to care.
"Come for me," Astarion growls, his voice low and commanding.
With his words pushing me over the edge, I explode in a wave of pleasure, screaming his name as I ride out my orgasm. Wave after wave of  pleasure courses through my body, making me shake like crazy, and I know if I wasn't grabbing the stone, I would be on the floor by now.  Astarion's hands are caressing my back as I come down from my high, and I feel him hard inside of me still. For a second, I think this is going to be it, but Astarion isn't finished yet. He eases himself out of me, his touch gentle as he lays my body down on the cool dirt beneath us. His lips meet mine once again, but this time the urgency is mixed with tenderness and a hint of vulnerability. Astarion pulls away slightly, his breath ragged as he stares into my eyes, his while curls tickling my face.
"You're mine," he growls, his voice barely a whisper.
I look into his eyes, filled with love and passion, and I know without a doubt that I am his. I smile up at him, reaching to stroke his face.
"Yes, I am" I say, my voice just as soft.
He slowly pushes inside me once more, grunting and keeping our eyes locked. My body is sensitive after my first orgasm, and I let out a hiss in response.
"Say it" he grunts "say that you are mine".
My breath catches as Astarion continues to thrusts into me, the overwhelming sensations of pleasure overcoming any lingering sense of sensitivity.
"I am yours," I pant, my voice filled with devotion and longing. A slow smile spreads across Astarion's face, and he leans down to capture my lips in a passionate kiss. He then lowers his mouth and sucks hard on the skin below my ear, and I know I will arrive bruised at the camp. The thought of our companions knowing should ashame me, but it only excites me. Being marked as his.
"Mine" he repeats, and with a feral growl, Astarion thrusts into me with renewed vigor.
My body responds, arching and undulating beneath him, my nails dig deep into the flesh of his back, marking him as mine as well. He grabs my hands, intertwining our fingers as we move together in perfect harmony. His movements become slow and deliberate, the moment turned intimate.
"I love you," I whisper, my voice hoarse from the intensity of everything.
Astarion's eyes lock onto mine, and I see the depth of his love and devotion for me there. "I love you, too," he says. Astarion's movements become more desperate as he chases his own release, but never breaking eye contact with me, like he wanted to memorize every detail of my face, to etch it into his memory forever.
As he feels himself nearing his climax, he reaches down and grabs the back of my thighs, pulling me even closer to him and teasing where our bodies are connected. The sensation of his rough hands on my skin sends hard shivers of pleasure up my spine.
"Look at me," he commands, his voice gruff with desire. "Look at your master".
The word makes something primal awakens in me, leaving me dizzy with desire, as I look up to meet his gaze. Astarion's eyes are locked onto mine as he drives himself deeper inside me, our bodies rhythmically colliding with a loud smacking noise that fills the silence of the graveyard.
"I love you," he groans once again, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
I can feel my own climax building, my body responding to his every thrust. The sensation of being filled by Astarion, knowing that he is mine and I am his, is unlike anything else in the world.
"Come for me, darling," he groans, his eyes never leaving mine.
With one final push, I feel myself shattering into a thousand pieces, my orgasm washing over me like a tidal wave. I cry out his name, my voice echoing through the ancient ruins around us. Astarion's own climax hits him like a freight train, his body convulsing as he pours himself into me. I feel his seed filling me, and a wave of warmth washes my body as I revel in the sensation.
For a moment, I simply lay there, basking in the afterglow and the feel of his sweaty body pressed against mine. Then, slowly, I gently run my fingers through his hair, smiling tenderly at him. He trails soft kisses over my shoulder, leaving goosebumps over my skin.
"I'm yours," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Forever."
Astarion shows a delighted smile that radiated from deep within him, and he pulls me close.
"Thank you" He whispers hoarsely.
I furrow my brows and look up at him. "What for?"
He looks down, and I think I see a hint of embarrassment color his cheeks "For being with me, despite everything." he says "For loving me even if I'm nothing more than a spawn"
I give a soft kiss to the skin below his throat "I don't love you for your power, Astarion" I say softly "or your beauty or your abilities. I love you for you, because you deserve to be loved"
He seems to get a little emotional at that, but only holds me closer to his body and keeps caressing my back.
After a few minutes in comfortable silence, he leans down and whispers in my ear, breath warm against my skin. "I didn't know you could be so obedient"
I turn my head to look at him, a mischievous smile forming on my lips. "I didn't know you liked me being obedient," I reply, teasingly.
Astarion chuckles and pulls back slightly to look me in the eyes. "Oh, sweetheart," he says with a smirk. "There are so many things you don't know about me."
Without warning, Astarion pulls out of me slowly, and with a satisfied grin, he helps me to sit up and leans in to kiss me tenderly.
"As much as I enjoyed this new begginings graveyard fretting, this place is giving me the creeps" He says, looking around at the dark and eerie background. "Let's go home”
We gather our clothes and begin to dress, but not before we take a moment to relish in the warmth and safety that we found in each other. As we walk away from the ancient ruins, hand in hand, we can't help but smile and think to ourselves that maybe, just maybe, we found more than just a new beginning in the depths of that old, dark place.
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simplylatte · 10 months
Text
" Married to the Undead "
A Corpse Bride x Welcome Home AU created by @sketchquill
Idea: Y/N failed the wedding rehearsal and ran to the nearby forest out of fear and frustration. They rehearse their vows. When they finally get them correct, they unintentionally agree to marry.. a corpse?!
Reminders: Psst, hey! This will contain spoilers for Corpse Bride, it is heavily recommended that you watch the movie before reading here in order to understand the story! Also, keep in mind that this is NOT related to the cannon story of Welcome Home!! I do not know Clown or their friends personally, nor do I have any works associated with them!! This is purely for fun!! None of the characters or ideas belong to me!!
Reader is gender neutral!
In case you're new here, Wally is the groom (or Bride in the movie!)
I'll shut up now, I hope you enjoy!!
♡------------♡
Oh god, what have you done?!
The rehearsal did not go according to plan, not even close. Not only did you screw up the vows on more than one occasion, you set Howdy's mother on fire. On fire!! You were a nervous wreck in there, and you couldn't bring yourself to stay there another second. Without looking back, you ran out of the room, leaving everyone inside behind. You couldn't help it. The way everyone stared at you when you slipped up was adding more and more pressure until you couldn't take it anymore. Their glares was drilled in your mind as you ran tirelessly.
You ran and ran until you came up to the bridge. On top of the bridge, you stared at the frozen water underneath you. You hung your head in defeat, taking out a small flower that Howdy had generously gifted you hours before. It had a nice scent to it, like lavender and honey. You frowned, furrowing your brows as you sighed.
"Oh, Howdy.. I wish I could say them perfectly to you. Instead, I walked in and set your mother on fire."
You stood quiet, taking in the cold chills that filled the air with snow and icicles everywhere. You allowed yourself to slip away in thought for a moment. You couldn't help but think of the wedding tomorrow. You couldn't deny that Howdy was very handsome, but was he really the one for you? Goodness, it's better off if you just ran away and never came back. Maybe that'll fix the issue.
Your thoughts came to a halt when you heard someone call your name from the distance. You perked your head up, glancing over at the city that was far from you.
Oh shoot.
It was Eddie. It was difficult to read his expression from how far you were, but you knew he was worried from how he spoke.
"Y/N? Y/N, where are you?" Eddie shouted for you, hopping for your return as he longed to know if you were okay. Guilt filled your heart as you stepped away. No, not yet. You couldn't bring yourself to return. Feeling much worse, you turned on your heels and walked away into the frozen forest that laid in front of you.
The cold air was bitter, you shivered as the sounds of snow crunching underneath your feet filled the atmosphere. While you were walking, you thought that perhaps, this would be a good time to rehearse. No one to stare, no one to judge. You took a deep breath as you ventured through the forest.
"With this hand, I will lift your cup. What, no!" You face palmed in embarrassment from your mess-up. Lift your sorrows, not cup, you mentally told yourself. This was going to be awhile..
"Your wine will- No. Your cup will never empty."
"..What was that last line again?"
"With this candle, I will.. I will set your mother on fire, ugh. It's no use.."
You groaned in frustration. Is this how you'll do at the wedding? Mess up in front of a large crowd? Mess up in front of your soon-to-be groom? It felt pointless, it was slowly dragging you down as you felt you couldn't get the vows right. You sat down at a nearby rock, head in your hands. Maybe you really weren't ready to marry. The thought shook you to the core. You had no choice, yet you kept messing up.
You reached into your pocket and took out the ring. It was a simple gold, yet it held so much meaning. You looked at the ring in hopes to find the right words, maybe a small reminder should do the trick. You stared at it for a moment as thoughts ran through your mind. You took a deep breath and stood up, raising your right hand as you held your left hand to your heart.
"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows."
You turned to a nearby tree. It had multiple branches sticking out of its sides. With a small smile, you dashed to it and took one branch into your hand.
"Good evening, Mr. Pillar. You're looking fine, if I do say so myself."
You turned your gaze to another tree, one that has been cut and dead. You shuffled your way towards it, patting it a few times on the rough surface if the dead oak.
"My goodness, Mrs. Pillar, you look simply divine!"
There was a decently sized tree bark that stood out to you. You ripped it from it's place, imagining it as a candle.
"Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine."
You took a few paces up front, kneeling down and positioning the broken bark piece to a twig, pretending that it was another candle. You imagined the bark in your hand was lit with a spark.
"With this candle, I will light your way into darkness."
The air seemed to have gotten colder, but you didn't mind it for the moment. There was an oddly shaped branch that stood out from the ground. At least, you thought it was a branch. It looked perfect for the quick practice. You knelt down to the branch, raising the ring above it.
"With this ring, I ask you to be mine."
You place the ring onto one of the sticks. You felt the air go stiff. The crows around you began to fly away in a hurry. You turned around, looking around as you felt accomplished for saying the vows so perfectly. You smiled to yourself. Sure, you'll have to explain your absence, but at least you're prepared for the upcoming wedding.
Your thoughts came to a halt when you heard something snap.. and take your arm!
"AAH!" You screamed. You tried to pull your arm back, but that something was pulling you to the ground. Your entire right arm was in the ground. You could feel your arm get pulled out of its place. You shrieked in pain as you turned and pled away as hard as you could. It had a strong grip, but you eventually managed to break free from the grip. You stumbled back and fell on your back. You quickly shuffled to get up, looking down to.. see an arm on your arm!? You screamed once more, frantically waving your arm for it to let go. Just as you managed to fling the decapitated arm away, you felt the ground rumble.
You begun to back away as another arm reached out of the ground. It was a rising corpse. Oh. Oh god. What have you done?!
The corpse rose from it's grave. From the looks of it, it was dressed up as a groom. The groom stood over you, its veil covering the face. Your heart began to race, your breathing became heavier as the groom lifted his veil, revealing his face. A stitched up corpse that stared at you with a large smile.
"I do.." He whispered.
Oh hell no.
With no second thought, you immediately pulled yourself up and bolted out of there. You ran and ran, trying to get away from the corpse. The moment you turned your head, you saw him following you. He had just stitched his arm back into place. The way he stared at you with a large grin was creeping you out.
As you ran, you slipped and ran in place on the frozen water. You were just about to fall when you grabbed onto a nearby branch and pulled yourself out from the ice. You didn't dare to look back. Despite feeling breathless, you ran as fast as your legs could carry you. The moment you turned your head to look, you slammed yourself against the tree.
You backed away as pain overwhelmed you. Your vision became blurry. You turned around and barely made out the groom that was still approaching you. You couldn't tell if he was walking or running towards you, but you didn't want to stick around to find out. You immediately turned around, accidentally slammed yourself against the tree once more. You groaned in pain, but just managed to get out of there. Upon leaving the forest, you ran through a a dead bush that still had many sharp twigs intact. You didn't think twice about changing routes, so you ran straight through, causing your clothes to get ripped in some places.
The crows flew nearby as you ran up to the bridge, breathing heavily. You paused to take a breather, frantically looking around to see that the undead groom was nowhere to be seen. Thank goodness..
Just as you turned around, he was right in front of you.
You yelped in surprise and backed up, but was blocked by the wall of the bridge. You leaned back, feeling your heart race faster as fear and anxiety overwhelmed you. The groom stood close to you, cupping your face. His hands were ice cold, causing you to shiver. Your eyes met his. His eyes were dilated, you could've sworn you saw hearts. You tried to lean farther back, but the groom held your face in place.
"You may now kiss the groom.." The groom closed his eyes as he slowly leaned in towards you. You wanted to push him away, but you were frozen in shock. You couldn't move. You began to feel dizzy and lightheaded. You couldn't bear to look anymore. You squeezed your eyes shut. In a moment's notice, you felt his lips meet yours. You grew breathless, and before you knew it...
Everything went black.
♡------------♡
I'm going to end up writing the entire AU as a movie, aren't I?
But in all seriousness, thank you all for the support of my last writing. It geniunely means a lot to me. I was not expecting it to get so well received, but I'm happy that you all enjoyed it. Remember to take care of yourselves! <3
837 notes · View notes
swoonbots · 1 year
Text
Wally: Overstimulated Drabble
CW: Vomit
Summary: Reader gets overwhelmed at their welcoming party.
---
Your past meal laid splattered across the bright patchwork grass. It left a burn in your throat, and you groaned.
To say you felt bad would be an understatement, there was a pounding behind your eyes. Sweat dripped off you. You groaned, shutting your eyes tight.
Today had started off good. You had finally finished moving into your new neighborhood, sure you were the only human but that wasn't so bad, right?
Wrong.
These puppet folk didn't understand the limits of the human body. That horned girl has nearly ripped your arm out of its socket in her excitement to show you around the neighborhood.
You were practically tossed around all day and at the end, you were invited to this living house called 'Home' where a welcome party was thrown for you.
You were grateful, of course. Everyone was so, so kind to you, showering you in gifts and praise. But it was all so... Overwhelming.
Thankfully, the party was nearing its end. The sun was going down and everyone was beginning to lose their energy. You took this moment to escape the thundering laughter and much too friendly touches and escaped into Home's Backyard. A forest.
As you stumbled deeper and deeper within the woods, the sounds grew more silent and you released a breath you hadn't known you were holding.
It came to you all at once.
Vomit spews past your dry lips, gasping for air.
Too much. It was all too much. The bright colors, the constant flow of voices. Guilt racked your mind. They were only being friendly. Yet you couldn't help but feel bad. Your head hurt. And you were tired. Your body shook and trembled beneath you.
"Neighbor..? Is that you? Why'd you leave..?"
A monotone voice approached you from behind. It was Wally's. The man who was somehow okay with living inside a sentient house.
"I'm fine, " you called out, your voice hoarse, "Go back inside."
"But I don't want to. It's a bit too loud in there. Julie and Sally have taken to karaoke."
Sounds horrible, you thought to yourself.
The grass crunched under Wally's shoes, "Did you come out to take a break? You were looking a bit pale in there."
You stood back up, turning to find his voice .
"... Yeah. Sorry. I'm just.. a bit overwhelmed at the moment."
"That's okay too... They're like this whenever someone new moves in."
Wally's figure revealed itself to you, lax as always.
"It's getting dark out. Let's go back inside. I'll tell them that it's time to go home for the day."
You perked up, "I-! That isn't necessary! They're having fun, I dun wanna ruin that just cause I'm a little overwhelmed."
Wally just shook his head.
"You're not the only one. Home is starting to get tired too.. It's not neighborly to overstay your welcome.. Come."
Wally's felt hand slipped into yours, "It's important to let the people around how you feel, Neighbor. Or else nothing will change."
Wally spoke barely above a whisper. You appreciated that. He led you back to Home.
"Let's not make your first memories here sour ones, hmm?"
---
A/N: Inspired from last night when I had too much sugar and felt like actual garbage. I feel like the world of welcome home would be a sensory nightmare. Anyways, Wally, Howdy, and Eddie are up for requests.
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a-not-so-clean-blog · 2 months
Text
Quincy x male reader smut
Hunted
Primal play. Hurt/ comfort. General anxiety
2900 words
It was a stupid bet. You were frustrated because you felt that he was being over protective. The feelings had been building for a while but you simply reached your boiling point. Normally you didn't mind, you knew how protective he can be, especially because he's watched so many people he's cared about die. However, today you were tired and just wanted to go for a hike by yourself. Quincy of course didn't want you to go alone because you could get lost or hurt. Be it a wild beast, poacher, or one of his own hunting traps, the forest was filled with unseen dangers. The conversation turned into you yelling at him for making you feel weak. After you finished yelling he calmly asked if you'd like to prove to him you could survive on your own. A game of tag. All you had to do was touch him and make it back to the cabin.
Easy enough, right?
You should not have challenged him. You were running in circles, hopelessly lost in the middle of his woods. The winding game trail turned into wild, untouched forest making you lose any sense of direction you had. You would have felt completely alone if not for the nagging feeling of burning amber eyes on you from the darkness.
The leaves crunching underneath your feet, the occasional snap of a twig in the distance and the rustling of wind in the trees. Besides that there were no other sounds, everything was eerily still and not even birdsong could be heard. It felt dangerous, like you were being stalked. Well, you were being hunted. He was like the moon, always following, always watching, and always just out of reach.
You knew he was close, he had to be, but there were no physical signs of him anywhere. No footprints, no broken branches, nothing. Nothing but this nagging feeling and the hair on the back of your neck standing on end.
You had always felt safe with Quincy. He was always someone you could lean on for support, but what do you do when all that strength that supported you targets you instead. When the loving lazy teddy bear turns and bares its fangs.
Anxiety steadily grew as the night grew longer and shadows danced in the moonlight. One wrong step and the darkness threatened to swallow you whole. Hours passed and your hands started shaking, your legs were tired, and your nerves were shot. Every sound coming from just beyond the tree line only served to worsen the intense feelings of fear.
“I give up.” Your voice cracked. “Quincy, please come out. I want to go home. You win.” Your throat was tight from stress and croaked under the strain. Your vision blurred as your eyes became glassy with tears that threatened to spill at any moment.
No longer melting into the chorus of nature, the distinct sound of footsteps rustled in front of you. How he got in front of you without you noticing, especially considering his size, you have no idea, but that didn't matter right now. You run into his arms full force, throwing yourself into him and he doesn't even need to brace himself. He was ready, waiting for you, to welcome you back into his embrace. A few hot tears rolled down your cheeks and soaked into his shirt. An overwhelming feeling of relief flooded you as you held him in a vice grip. Afraid that if you loosened even a little bit that he would disappear into the darkness once again.
Physically and emotionally exhausted you were now only being supported by Quincy's strong arms wrapped tightly around you. After feeling scared and alone for so long right here felt like the safest place in the world. Your chest heaved as you tried to take calming breaths. Seeing how you were failing to calm yourself down Quincy's large hand rubbed up and down your spine trying to help. He spoke slowly, words of comfort, but everything was muffled and distorted by the sound of your own pounding heart.
Guilt tugged at his heart the entire time he was watching over you. He knows you saw him as a predator even though he was genuinely acting as a protector. Scaring away monsters that lurked in the woods and even disarming a few of his bear traps so you wouldn't fall into them. Not a single moment past where you weren't his top priority. Yet, the more he watched you the more the strange feeling grew in him…
He picked you up, grabbing you with a little more force than was necessary, and started making his way back to the cabin. Soft words of apologies fell from his lips, but you were still too overwhelmed to hear it.
He knew you were never in any real danger, not with him lurking in the shadows. However something about the way your once bold and defiant movements became smaller, more cautious, and almost prey-like as you ventured deeper into unknown territory flipped a switch in his mind. Normally letting his prey fall into a trap was his preferred method but something about actively hunting you awakened something deep in his mind, a feeling that he has always ignored and pushed back down into the darkness. He was a man, but something about you made him feel like he was something else entirely. A hunter, predator, maybe he was simply another beast that roamed the woods.
All he knew is that he ached for you, hungered for you. Now that he had you he struggled with what to do next. Torn between comforting or devouring you.
You left yourself open to so many opportunities to get gobbled up by him or any other animal. He lost track of how many times he was ready to pounce on you, sweet, oblivious you. Now once again you were completely vulnerable as you rested from your ordeal. He watched the broken rise and fall of your chest slowed into something more rhythmic, as the sound of your gentle breathing enchanted him more.
For now he can swallow his instincts and make sure you're taken care of. He's done enough to hurt you today and it would be bad if he lost himself to his desires.
You took the cup of water and snack he gave as a peace offering. It helped to calm you a bit more. The stale taste of anxiety being replaced by the sweet fruit. He moved to sit next to you on the bed, gauging your reaction. He knows he went too far but he still didn't want you to be mad at him. Maybe he's being greedy thinking that way, but you didn't try to move away from him so that was a good sign. He put his hand on your back and his stomach twisted when he felt your heart thundering under his fingers. It's been almost an hour since your little game ended and the adrenaline still coursed through your veins. Maybe that was why he wanted you so bad. Whatever scent you were giving off was pure excitement to him.
Before you knew it Quincy was on top of you. One hand on the small of your back pulling your hips together, and the other hand right beside your head supporting his weight so he wouldn't crush you. You were completely caged and the kiss was rough and famished. He bit your lip just hard enough to make you yelp, but that was enough to snap him back to his senses.
He froze as he hovered just an inch above your face. His eyes dilated till they were almost black with only a small ring of copper surrounding the void. He was panting heavily and he knew that he lost himself. A look of fear and guilt etched into his face. You were still breathing heavily and he could still feel your pulse racing even through your clothes. You must have been terrified. Of course you were, he was nothing more than a beast. “Sorry…” His voice a quiet rumble.
The moment he pulled back your hand shot up and grabbed his collar. Every symptom he mistook for fear melted into something else. A need that formed in the pit of your stomach. Maybe part of it was fear, but maybe, just this once, you liked it.
His eyes went wide in surprise and your brain almost entirely shut off. Not being able to think of any words to express how you were feeling you simply decided to grind your hips against his. The rough material of your pants pushing against your cock as you rub against Quincy's bulge.
For a moment his eyes glazed over, something primal trying to take over but he's desperately fighting against. It was stupid but even after everything that happened today you just wanted to be ravaged by the man on top of you. Was it because he was actually showing initiative and making the first move? Whatever the reason you wanted more.
“Don't stop”
Two little words was all it took for him to pounce on you again. His lips crashing into yours with a passion you could taste. He all but tore the clothes from your body, leaving you totally exposed underneath him. The air in the cabin was cool compared to the heat he was radiating. You could feel his muscles were bound tight like a spring, moments away from exploding but he still held himself back.
You two have had sex before, but you were always the one in control. He would spend half an hour just making sure your ass could take him comfortably, and you would ride him at your own pace. He was always careful about not grabbing you too hard or leave any marks. So gentle and cautious, he was always treating you like glass.
But not today.
He broke the kiss just long enough to lift his shirt over his head and discard the useless fabric. Large muscles curated over years of rough living made him a sculpture of perfection. Small scars littered his skin but the moment you reached out to touch him you had your hands pinned above your head. In that moment you could have sworn you heard a low growl come from his throat, but any thoughts were quickly dismissed as his tongue and teeth attacked your soft neck. His free hand teasingly ghosting your cock only to slip a finger into your ass. It was impossible to hold back your moans as he left a trail of hickeys down your neck and chest. Sharp bites comforted by a wet lick before moving to the next spot.
Soon he slipped in another finger. Moving his whole hand he was practically fucking you with his thick fingers already. You weakly pulled at his hand binding your wrist, not trying to break free but wanting to pleasure yourself more. Your cock twitched, craving the same attention that Quincy was giving to your hole.
Without warning he pulled his fingers from you. The feeling of emptiness made you whimper as your ass tried to squeeze around nothing. Though you were nowhere near as loose as he normally made you.
He finally released you to take off his pants and free his cock. It stood proud, just as long, fat, and monstrous as always.
The way he looked down at you sent a chill down your spine. It was like he was picking you apart with his eyes. Like he could see your every weakness and desire, and he was looking for the perfect opportunity to pounce.
You averted your eyes for only a moment and in a flash he settled between your legs. One leg by his waist and the other he pulled up to his shoulder, giving himself the perfect angle to dive in.
He wavered for a moment, a moment of clarity in his lust. He leaned in close to you, close enough where you could feel his ragged breath dance on your skin. “Tell me to stop.” You could hear the slight tremble in his voice. If you asked him to stop he would. You know he would. However, stopping is not an option today. Not for either of you.
“Fuck Quincy. I need you.” Your voice was breathy but clear. It made his heart race and his mind go foggy.
Slowly but firmly he pushed his cock into your tight ass. He felt so much bigger than usual because of the little amount of prep. You almost screamed when he finally bottomed out. His chest heaved as he made himself go slow. The steady rocking of his hips became faster and harder until he was slamming into you like a beast in rut.
Grunts and moans filled the room, as did the sound of skin slapping. He grabbed your cock and started pumping. The growl that he gave when the stimulation made you tighten on his dick almost made you cum.
“Ah-aah Q-Quincy!” You weren't going to last much longer. Not when Quincy is looking at you with that hunger in his eye. Like he would wreck anything or anyone if it got between you and him. Maybe you were his prey, but more than that you were his.
Every moan and mewl you made just made him harder and further fed his primal urges. He didn't even try to stop himself from sinking his teeth into your neck, right under your jawline. Leaving behind a clear mark, a claim that couldn't be hidden by clothes.
“F-fuck, I'm gonna- nnnnh-” Your back arched as you cum hard onto your chest and stomach. He continues to jerk you off as he fucks you, making your head swim and sparking your skin with overstimulation.
With a final hard thrust he releases his cum deep inside your guts, painting your insides white. He let out a grunt as he filled you up.
As you both catch your breath he looks at you with such a desire that you haven seen before. Your head and heart were filled with emotions you couldn't hope to name but they were welcome nonetheless.
He pressed his large frame against you so you could feel the vibration of his voice. Low and sultry. “Mine.” Without warning he started moving his hips again. You were already seeing stars from the pleasure but this was overwhelming.
You don't know how many times you had cum, but Quincy never stopped. Not until your ass was overflowing and dripping with his hot thick cum. The only reason he stopped was because he could see you fighting true exhaustion and losing. Struggling to simply keep your eyes open even with him pounding you into the mattress.
When he did pull out your ass hole gaped, still remembering the shape of his cock. The cum that dropped onto your skin soon turned cold in the open air. You couldn't bother moving or cleaning up though and let yourself fall into sweet unconsciousness.
Quincy watched over you for a little while as you fell asleep. He still had the stamina to continue, but what was the point if you couldn't look him in the eye as he marked his claim on you. After he watched your breathing steady and your expression shift from an exhausted ecstasy to a peaceful contentment he let out a sigh and got to work.
It was uncomfortably warm when you woke up. Like you were sleeping just a foot away from a fire pit. You tried to move but quickly found you were being held in place. Behind you Quincy held you in a bear trap like grip. The more you squirmed to get up the tighter his arms coiled around you. Still, he was conscious enough not to squeeze too tight.
“Quincy, let me up. I'm dirty..” you try and nudge him awake but he just grunts in response. “Quincy…”
“Go back to sleep. You're fine.” He grumbled with no intention of letting you go. After everything he did last night his heart aches at the idea of you not being in his arms or surrounded by him. A feeling that was contrasted by the guilt he had for being rougher with you than he wanted.
His disgruntled comment was right though. Your skin was clean and dry, all except for between your ass cheeks. You also became acutely aware of the bite marks and hickeys that covered every inch of your exposed skin. Not that Quincy was much better, his skin littered with red scratches and a few hickeys of his own. The events of last night fully dawned on you and made your heart race again. Flashes of feral Quincy filled your mind. He was daunting and devoted, scary yet tender. You naively thought he was tame but never truly got to peek at his wild side until now.
He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his nose brushing against a particularly sensitive bite and making you shiver.
“Rest. We will get up later.” His voice was back to its normal soft tone. So different from the primal growl in his voice last night. Hopefully you'll get to hear that voice again soon, but for now it's best not to fight him and just enjoy the quiet comfort he brings.
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bumblesimagines · 11 months
Text
Imagine:
Getting help from Daryl
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Request: Yes or No
~~~
Your feet hurt. They've been hurting for weeks. Staying on the move had sounded like a good idea at first: less chance at meeting strangers, less chance at losing things, less opportunities to get attached. But now, as you run blindly through a forest with the dead following and every muscle in your body weeping, you're beginning to rethink the idea.
The leaves crunch beneath your boots and you breeze past a large tree, only having a split second to see the man before you slam into him and crumble to the ground. You groan, pain blossoming in your shoulder and it only intensifies with the backpack strap digging into your skin. You hear him curse and huff as he gathers himself and then regains his footing. An arrow catches your eye but you don't dwell on it and instead crane your neck to look up at the man, hoping to see a friendly face.
But he looks terrifying.
He glares down at you as if your existence ruined his day. He sucks his teeth and adjusts his crossbow over his shoulder, his glare remaining persistent as he looks over you, likely searching for any signs of a bite. You can help but notice some minor details: his backpack is small, hardly any use for weeks or months of solo travelling, his body was full and muscular meaning he'd have to have at least a semi decent diet, and he looks clean. Barely a speck of dirt on his face.
"You oughta watch where you're goin' next time." He speaks in a gravelly voice soaked in a southern accent. His glare softens the slightest bit. "You good?"
You don't get the chance to answer that no, you are most definitely not good. before the groans and growls of the dead grow louder. He turns and instinctively grabs his crossbow, aiming at them and shooting near-perfection accuracy. You take the distraction and swipe the arrow from the ground, stumbling up onto your feet and bolting in the opposite direction. You hear him shout after you but you don't stop. Either the dead will make a meal out of him and slow down or they'll keep him occupied until he takes them all out. You feel a prickle a guilt at the relief that fills you.
You make good distance, at least a mile or maybe two, before you slow down. Still in the forest but progress was progress. Your chest burns and you slump against a tree, leaning against it to keep weight off your exhausted legs. Your fingers loosen around the arrow and the guilt returns.
What if you had judge him too quickly?
What if he had been a husband and father?
What if his people came looking and somehow found you?
Your eyes squeeze shut and you brace your hands on your knees, feeling your bottom lip begin to quiver. Good people were hard to come by in the recent years, and he had the chance to put an arrow in your skull but didn't. Anyone else would've done it. You would've done it. You had done it.
The familiar hiss of a walker fills your ears, far too close for comfort. Your eyes snap open and you turn your head to look at it but before you can react it lunges. It's weight forces your knees to buckle and you collapse on the floor again, arm pressed to its collarbone as its jaws snaps inches away from your face. Your free hand searches for the arrow you dropped in shock and your finger brushes against the tip of its metal.
Then, you hear the whizz of an arrow and a squelch.
Blood splatters lightly onto your face and the walker thankfully goes limp. You shove it off you in one quick motion and sit up, whirling your head around to look at your savior.
"The hell were you thinkin' runnin' off like that?!" The man from before snaps at you as he walks forward, ripping the arrow from the walkers skull and tucking it back into its rightful spot.
"I was thinking I didn't want to die."
"Yeah? How'd that work out?" His demeanor seems odd. It almost feels as if you're being scolded by an old friend. He offers his hand and you stare at it. You want to take it. You really want to take it. But doubt creeps into the back of your mind.The outbreak had brought the worst out of everyone. It couldn't have been any different with this stranger. He doesn't let you think too hard on it though before he grabs your arm and flings you up onto your feet.
You take a moment to regain composure and try to avoid his gaze. You spot the arrow on the floor and pick it up, offering it back to him. "Thank you for helping me." You murmur and wipe away the leaves and dirt sticking to your clothes and arms.
"You been out here a long time, huh?" His voice gets softer, gentler. There's a hint of familiarity to it. He watches you, this time without the cold glare, and clears his throat.
"Name's Daryl."
"(Y/N)."
"Tell me, (Y/N). How many walkers you killed?"
Gifs aren't mine.
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stayteezdreams · 11 months
Text
Hooked on You: Part One
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Plot: When on a walk through the park, your day gets sidelined and possibly your whole life changed, when you suddenly get hit in the face with a snowball.
-Part Two-
Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Gn!reader
-Meet-Cute Masterlist-
Words: 2.4k
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As the snow crunched under your feet, you enjoyed the giddy feeling the snow gave you. You didn't care if you were cold, the beautiful white atmosphere around you warmed you from the inside.
Making your way through the park, you watched as kids, families, and couples walked along, some building snowmen, or making snow angels. Somewhere up ahead you could hear the sound of joyful yelling.
The yelling got louder as you rounded the corner, seeing the culprits appear from behind some trees. You were a little surprised to see three guys around your age, having a snowball fight.
Their laughs and yells met your ears, and you couldn't help but giggle and smile. They seemed to be having fun, and you couldn't help but feel a little jealous. It had seemed like forever since you had had that kind of fun with friends.
Most of your current friends were a bit more serious and "mature", you couldn't really picture having a snowball fight with any of them, and them enjoying it.
Though your eyes were still on the boys, your train of thought was suddenly sidelined as your vision was clouded by white, and your face shocked with the feeling of cold snow. Jumping out of surprise, and letting out a small yelp, you heard the gasps of the men nearby.
Wooyoung really didn't mean it, he hadn't even noticed you walking past. He was so preoccupied with trying to hit Mingi, who had just finished peppering him with snowballs, that he didn't care to watch what else he might be aiming at.
As he threw the snowball, he watched as Mingi dodged it, sending it flying past, and directly into the face of someone walking by.
Wooyoung's face contorted to surprise and guilt as he let out a surprised yell. Mingi and Yunho gasped and cringed with embarrassment as they struggled to hold back laughs.
Wooyoung quickly began running over to you, watching as you wiped the snow from your face.
Apologizing profusely as he approached you, he prepared himself for yelling, embarrassment, or even offense and cursing. What he was not expecting however, was laughter.
As you wiped the last of the snow from your face, you couldn't help but let out a bubbly laugh. It had caught you so off guard, and his obvious mortification as he ran up to you apologizing, sent a shock of amusement through you.
Looking up, you met the man's eyes as you continued to giggle. He was looking at you with shock, but it slowly morphed into a pleasantly surprised smile.
The others behind him stared at you in surprised as they gave each other amused looks.
Wooyoung let out a small chuckle "Are you okay?"
You nodded, letting out one last small giggle "Yes, I'm fine."
Wooyoung's fast-beating heart seemed to turn from embarrassment, to enticement. The second your eyes had met his, and your smile beamed, he felt butterflies. Not the mention your laugh was adorable.
The same happened to you when you looked up, meeting the bright startled eyes of the attractive man. Part of you thought you had seen him around, but you weren't quite sure where.
"I'm really sorry, I didn't do that on purpose." He said with a soft tone, though he was repressing a laugh.
"Oh, I didn't think you did." You said reassuringly.
Wooyoung looked you over, and seeing some snow stuck to your hair, he reached out and brushed it away, before suddenly realizing what he was doing and pulling his hand away. You brushed the rest away with a shy smile.
He wasn't sure what was taking over him, but he couldn't help but feel so drawn to you. Was it the way you acted? The way you looked? Your smile, or your laugh? All of it?
After giving a polite glance to the two men standing behind him, you cleared your throat, unsure of why the man in front of you seemed to be locked in on you. It was making you nervous, as butterflies rampaged in your stomach.
Yunho and Mingi could sense what was going on as Wooyoung stared at you. He thought you were cute. They smiled at you politely, wondering what Wooyoung was going to do.
"I should go" You said softly, ready to excuse yourself and allow the boys to get back to their game.
But as you started to walk away a hand suddenly gripped your wrist, not tightly, but it was enough to stop you.
"Wait!"
You looked at the man with a shocked gaze as his face broke into a smile "You should stay!"
You raised your brow in confusion, as you saw the other two glance between each other.
"What?" You said with a bewildered chuckle.
"Yeah! Come on, it's fun" His smile was contagious but you were still uncertain.
"Uhm, I don't know about that."
"Come on!" He continued, his voice almost turning into a whine "I'm outnumbered, I could use some help."
He gestured back at the two men before he looked at them, you couldn't see the look he gave them, but the others suddenly nodded and all encouraged you to stay.
You laughed again "I really don't know-"
Before you could finish, he began tugging you towards the others. You gave one of the men, a tall blonde, a look of confusion and he laughed "Best to go with it I think."
"Yeah, we'll go easy on you." the other said.
You laughed softly before speaking with a hint of challenge in your tone "Do I look like the type who needs pity?"
The man's face contorted to surprise before he let out a laugh, followed by the others laughing as well.
"See, I could tell!" The man who had dragged you into this said "You'd get along with us great! So stay, at least for a little!"
You looked at him and then between the other three, who just smiled at you. As much as you had intended to do today, you couldn't help but ignore the pull you had towards him, and you couldn't ignore how much you had been jealous of their fun before.
"O-okay, fine"
"Yes!" he cheered "You're on my team!" He stuck his tongue out at the others as he dragged you over to a bench. You heard the others laugh as you smiled in amusement.
Watching him crouch down and start to pile up snow, you noticed he had a grin on his face.
"I have a question." You suddenly said and he looked up at you, almost taking your breath away
"Yeah?"
"What's your name?" You let out a soft giggle.
"Oh!" He laughed as he stood up straight "I'm Wooyoung!"
"Y/n." You returned and his smile somehow got bigger.
Looking over at the others, he pointed them out one by one as they looked over, hearing their names.
"That's Yunho" he said pointing to the tall blonde from before, who waved at you with a big smile "And that's Mingi." The other tall one with bright hair waved at you as well.
"This is Y/n!" he called out as they greeted you with laughs.
"You know, you didn't consider I might have had somewhere important to be before dragging me into this." You teased.
He looked at you with curiosity "Did you?"
You hummed "No."
He let out a giggle before he started making a snowball, which you joined him in doing after a moment. He glanced up at you, and had to tear his eyes away before he got caught up in staring.
Wooyoung knew from the moment he heard you laughing after he hit you with a snowball, that you were special. And when your eyes met his he felt like he had gotten hooked.
"How good are you at snowball fights? After what you said to Mingi it seems like you've got experience." He joked.
You looked up at him and smiled, and he felt his breath hitch.
"I got banned from taking part in snowball fights at school because I was too good."
His eyes widened in surprise as you laughed and continued
"I got too into it and would take out my own teammates." There was a teasing tone in your voice as you eyed him.
"Is that a threat or a warning?" He asked with a raise in his tone.
"Well I do owe you one." You said with a blunt yet joking tone.
He let out a laugh that made you grin.
"That is true." He admitted before he giggled again.
Oh yeah, he was definitely hooked.
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Everything you had planned to do today, had been pushed to tomorrow, as you spent the next two hours hanging out with Wooyoung, Mingi and Yunho.
You had gone from having a snowball fight, which you and Wooyoung won, though barely, to building snowmen.
You weren't sure how or why it happened, but you felt as though you had known the three boys your whole life. Especially Wooyoung.
You got along better with him, then half the friends you had known for years. You dreaded when you would part ways, but you hoped maybe you'd see him again.
The warmth of the cup in your hands sent a pleasant chill through you. The cafe you were now in was a bit crowded, but you didn't mind. Wooyoung sat in front of you, as Yunho and Mingi sat on the bar stools at the window nearby. It was curious you thought, since there were two seats at your table.
You glanced at Wooyoung, who gave you a smile, and your heart sped up a bit. Were they sitting further away on purpose?
"I already paid for yours by the way." Wooyoung said after he sipped some of his own drink.
"What? You didn't have to!"
He grinned at you "I know, but take it as an apology for hitting you with that snowball."
"I thought I already got you back for that?" You asked with a teasing tone.
He giggled as he nodded, recalling how you had gotten him with a snowball in the back of the head when he wasn't expecting it.
"I deserved that, but you also deserve this, I did sort of kidnap you." He said with an amused, and almost embarassed smile.
You laughed, hoping our face was not visibly flushing. "Well thank you. And as it turns out, I didn't really mind the kidnapping in the end." You said softly.
He giggled softly as he looked down at his drink, and you couldn't help but think about how cute he was. Your heart clenched a bit and you looked down at your own drink.
When your drink had been finished, you checked the time and let out a soft sigh "I really do think I should go now."
"Really?" He asked, with obvious disappointment in his tone that made your ears burn hot.
You nodded, though you felt it hard to leave.
As you reached for your gloves, Wooyoung felt panic rush through him as he reached out and grabbed your gloves first, stopping you.
You met his eyes and he smiled "Wait, before you go. I- would you... want to hang out again?"
Your heart jumped, and you could see the anxiety in his eyes as he asked.
Your stomach fluttered as you smiled "I'd like that."
His eyes widened, but he shook it off quickly, smiling as he took out his phone and set it in front of you "Can I get your number then? So we can plan something?"
You nodded as you took his phone, quickly inputting your contact info before handing it back and rising "I had fun today Wooyoung, thank you."
He grinned and nodded "Me too."
Watching you as you said goodbye to Mingi and Yunho before leaving the cafe, he felt his heart sink a bit as you left.
As Yunho and Mingi came over to the table and sat down, they eyed him curiously.
"At least tell me you got their number?" Yunho asked.
Wooyoung couldn't hold back his grin, as Yunho and Mingi shared a knowing stare before they teased their friend.
You had only been walking back home for about ten minutes before you felt your phone vibrate. Taking it out, you read the text and felt a giddiness wash over you.
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[Text transcript if images don't load]
WY: 'Hey Y/n it's Wooyoung!'
Y/n: 'Hey Wooyoung :)'
WY: 'Oh good, honestly I was kind of afraid you gave me a wrong number'
Y/n: 'No! I wouldn't do that.'
WY: 'You know, I was going to apologize for hitting you with a snowball again, but I decided against it'
Y/n: 'Oh? Whys that?'
WY: 'Because if I hadn't hit you, I wouldn't have met you.'
You felt your chest tighten as you stopped in your steps for a second before taking a deep breath. Was this going where you hoped it was? Typing a reply, you held your breath.
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Y/n: 'That's true. Though who knows, maybe we would have met anyways?'
WY: 'That's a nice thought!' 'I wanted to ask you something else though.'
Y/n: 'What?'
WY: 'I know you already said you'd want to hang out again, but do you think maybe instead, we could make it a date?'
Wooyoung stared at his phone, unblinking. Yunho and Mingi talked across from him, but he couldn't hear them, his heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his head.
As your text finally came though, he felt as though he could pass out, he felt so excited.
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Y/n: 'Yeah. That would be nice Wooyoung'
WY: 'Really!? Great!' 'Are you free this Saturday?'
Y/n: 'Yes!'
WY: 'Perfect! How about we meet at the park where we met? Say three?'
Y/n: 'Sounds good to me, see you then.'
WY: 'See you!'
You couldn't erase the grin on your face as you made your way home. Your mind immedietely started racing. You went over everything that had happened, and then you couldn't stop thinking about what might happen when you saw Wooyoung again.
He had actually asked you on a date!
Your day had started out well, but you never imagined it would get this much better. How could one random event lead to this? Three new friends, with one possibly becoming more?
The only thing that could get better, was for Saturday to come quicker.
xx
Let me know if you are interested in a part two (the date)~
A/ns: Yes I notice the typo in the text, no I can't be bothered to re-do it lmao Also, idk why but when editing this, I put the text images side by side and its fine, but when posting it they show up one after another as big images for me. Idk if it's appearing like that for you guys, but sorry about that.
Taglist: @bubblesreplies, @halesandy, @why-am-i-sad
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louveshin · 8 months
Text
scared of love | shin hati x fem!reader
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summary. after rescuing you from pirates, shin gives in to her desires when she’s finally alone with you back on her ship.
content warnings. minors dni. shin hati x reader, yandere!shin, dom!shin, afab!reader, bottom!reader, smut; dubcon (?), choking kink, marking, fingering (r receiving), a little blood (not really), overstimulation
word count. 2.9k
notes. mostly a part two of “your savior” but this can also be read as oneshot. i had two similar requests asking for dom!yandere!shin and decided to combine them into one hehe, i hope u like it
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The darkness settled around you as you walked through the dense forest on the way back to Shin’s ship. Your steps felt heavy, and the silence weighed on you like a suffocating blanket. The only sound was the crunch of leaves underfoot, and it seemed as if the forest itself was holding its own breath. It was quiet, yet there was an underlying tension in the air. Shin trailed closely behind you, her presence a constant and protective shadow. It was clear that she was determined to keep you within her sights, her watchful eyes scanning the surroundings with a vigilance that ultimately sent a shiver down your spine. And though you were grateful for Shin's rescue, the closeness in the dark forest made you nervous. You had to admit that she was undoubtedly scary tonight, and you weren’t exactly sure if the pirates were much less dangerous than she was. The silence between the two of you felt heavy, and the sense of being followed closely by her unwavering gaze was both comforting and unsettling.
Curiously, you eventually turned around to check on Shin, and the sight that met your eyes made your heart skip a beat. There, in the dim moonlight filtering through the trees, you saw Shin with traces of dried blood staining her clothes and her skin. The fear that had gripped you began to ebb away, if only slightly. Shin still bore the traces of the battle; her expression remained solemn, and the intensity in her eyes hadn't faded. But she saved you. She protected you. And you were grateful.
Relief finally washed over you as the familiar silhouette of the vessel came into view. But your sense of security was short-lived as you approached and noticed the telltale signs of the fierce battle that had unfolded earlier. Scratches and scorch marks were littered along the ship's hull, clear evidence of the desperate struggle that had taken place when the pirates had captured you. And although you put up quite a fight, in the end, there were too many of them and only one of you.
"I’m sorry about your ship," you said, slowing down as you came closer to it.
Shin didn’t even stop to say a word. Instead, she lowered the ramp with a push of a button and walked right past you. With a heavy sigh, you accepted her silence as you followed her into the ship. The atmosphere inside was as cold and silent like the forest you had just left behind, and you couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in Shin’s head. You couldn't shake the nagging feeling that Shin was upset with you for getting captured by the pirates in the first place. It was a thought that gnawed at you, filling you with guilt and regret.
You watched as Shin took control of the ship's controls without uttering a single word. Her skilled hands moved with grace and precision, manipulating the ship's systems with ease. It responded to her commands, its engines humming to life as it lifted off the ground and gracefully ascended into the dark expanse of space. The silence between the two of you was palpable as the ship hovered in the void, the stars outside casting a soft glow over Shin's determined expression.
"What about your mission?" You asked, halfheartedly expecting to be met with another period of silence.
"I have what I came for."
Her tone was cold and firm, just as it usually was. With a small nod, you retreated to your small room on the ship. It was a modest space, just large enough for the essentials—a bed, a place to put your weapons and your clothes, the walls adorned with faded star charts and a few personal mementos. You sat on your bunk, lost in thought, replaying the events of the night over and over in your mind. The silence around you was stifling, broken only by the soft hum of the ship's systems.
But, your thoughts didn’t linger for long as a shiver ran down your spine and an eerie feeling washed over you. Without warning, you turned around quickly, and to your surprise, you found Shin standing silently in your doorway.
"For kriff’s sake, Shin," you breathed, meeting her eyes with both a sense of worry and shock.
Shin remained wordless, her gaze fixed on you with a look that held a multitude of unspoken emotions. It was as though she had something to say but chose to express it in silence, intensifying the tension in the room. Like she couldn't tear her eyes away from the person who had been absent for what felt like an eternity.
"I think we should get you cleaned up," you say softly, taking a careful step towards the light-haired woman.
You reached out carefully, your fingers lightly touching Shin's gloved hand, and offered a reassuring smile. To your relief, Shin didn't resist. Instead, she allowed you to guide her towards her room, which was slightly more spacious than your own. You gently guided Shin to sit on her bed, and she complied, her earlier intensity giving way to trust in your actions. She watched silently as you moved purposefully around the room, and before long, you returned with a wet rag and a small bowl of water. You stood before Shin, your eyes meeting hers with a reassuring look, as if to say that everything would be okay.
With utmost care, you began to gently clean the dried blood from Shin's face, dragging the wet rag against her skin softly. Shin sat patiently, her eyes never leaving yours. And you had to admit, you were nervous being this close to her, especially after what she had done. It was for you; you had to remind yourself. She did it for you. And you had to thank her somehow, at least.
After finishing cleaning her face, you set the rag down and began to move your hands to the hems of her bloodied robes. But with a strong grip closing tightly around your wrists, Shin stopped your movements, gazing at you with those intense eyes once again. She stood from the bed suddenly, her tall figure towering over you.
"S-Sorry," you started, squirming a little bit under her touch. "I know you can do it yourself; I-I just wanted to help—"
"Are you afraid?"
You blinked up at her sudden question, "N-No."
"You’re lying," she said, using your wrists to pull you closer. "I had to kill them... Anyone who hurts you. Anyone that touches you. They have to die. You have to understand that. I’ll kill anyone who lays a finger on you—even anyone that dares to look at you."
Her words sliced through the air like a blade. Her eyes, wide and crazed, bore into yours with an unsettling fervor, and a small, but twisted smile curled upon her lips. The weight of every word hung heavily in the room, and you trembled in fear, not just from the pirates but from the intensity of Shin's unwavering protectiveness. It was a declaration that revealed the depths of Shin's devotion for you, but it also left you uneasy about the darkness that lay within your savior.
"You’re mine," Shin continued, pulling you even closer until the front of your body pressed against her bloodied robes. "Do you understand? I’ll protect you forever... So, don’t be afraid."
Before you could respond, Shin leaned down, closing the distance between the two of you, and planted a rough, lingering kiss on your lips. Oh, she always wondered what those lips would taste like... But, as your lips met, you hesitated, confused by the uncertainty that filled your stomach. With a slight push, you gently but firmly distanced yourself from Shin, pushing lightly at her chest and breaking the kiss.
"Shin, we can’t," Your voice trembled as you spoke, avoiding her eyes in the process, "We shouldn’t…"
Instead, Shin ignored your words as her hand crept up to your jaw and pulled your face back towards her. The next kiss she pulls you into is suffocating and rougher than the last. Shin is far too impatient; far too greedy. With the thoughts of you submitting to her, forcing you to beg for her, making you moan and scream for her—it dirtied her brain in the most pleasurable way. She groaned against your mouth, her other hand traveling downward to palm your ass. There was no way she could’ve restrained herself if she knew that everything that came before would lead up to this very moment.
Her tongue delves into your mouth when you moan and squeezes the flesh of your hips, lapping up every bit of your taste. Shin greedily swallows your whimpers, muffled against her lips. But when your arms reach up to wrap around her neck, Shin nearly loses her composure and turns to grab you by the waist, lifting you up and throwing you onto her bed. You’d be lying if you said that her manhandling you wasn’t one of the most attractive things you’ve ever experienced.
The blonde’s mouth waters at the sight of you, laying there looking up at her with innocent and anxious eyes. You had her wrapped around your finger, and you didn’t even realize it. Shin brought her hand to her mouth as she stared at you, biting the fingertip of her glove and pulling it off, her eyes never leaving you. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as she tossed her heavy armor and her lightsaber down onto the floor like they were the last things she cared about. Her hands reach the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your hand before going lower to work on unbuckling your pants and pulling them down your legs. Then she hovers over you, placing a hand by your head to support her weight and the way you look up at her, with nothing but your underwear on, god, it makes her absolutely exasperated with desire.
Shin immediately drops her head down to lick, suck, and litter kisses along the skin of your neck, down to the valley of your breasts, marking your skin with bruises at every inch she can get her lips on. And when your hands started tugging on her bloodied robes, Shin grabbed your wrists and pinned hard them above your head with one hand.
"Stay still," she commanded you, her face hovering just centimeters over you with her eyes boring in to yours, as if they were saying that there would be consequences if you were to disobey her—and angering her was the last thing you wanted tonight.
In a swift motion, the blonde rips your bra right off of you, causing you to gasp at the sudden action. For a moment, Shin almost forgot how to breathe as she stared down at your breasts—oh, how soft and plush they looked, like they would fit perfectly in the palm of her hands. And they do. Your whimpers fall on her ears while she massages your breasts slowly and carefully, relishing in the feeling of how perfect they were. With an occasional pinch to your nipples, Shin can’t help but smirk when you tense up and your quiet moans go an octave higher. Unable to control herself any longer, her mouth finds it way to wrap around your nipples and sucks hard. Each second, your moans got louder and louder, and Shin decided she’d make you scream tonight. and by the stars, you looked so, so beautiful.
Shin eventually releases your nipples with a pop, traveling and littering kisses up your neck once again, right on top of all of the bruises she left for you. When she reaches your mouth, she wastes no time pressing a rough kiss against them, pushing her tongue past your lips with no warning. She swallows your moans once again before pulling away slowly, a string of saliva connecting together from your lips.
"Open your mouth," she says again in that commanding tone.
You don’t hesitate to follow her order, eagerly parting your lips immediately, only for her to slip two of her fingers in, pressing them against your wet tongue. A sigh falls from Shin’s mouth as you slurp and wrap your tongue around her digits. She pushed her fingers deeper into your mouth, losing her mind over the way you gagged around her fingers.
Shin smirks at the sight, "Good girl."
After a moment, she pulls her fingers out of your mouth, carefully inspecting how wet you had made them. She kisses you again, distracting you from the way her hand treads lower down your body until her fingers reach the hem of your panties. With her face pressed against your neck, breathing in your scent, Shin slips her hand underneath the fabric as the pads of her fingers prod at the flesh of your sex. A gasp escapes from your lips the moment she presses your clit on accident, dragging her digits through slick folds until she’s forcefully shoving them inside of you. Shin jaw drops at the feeling of your warmth wrapped around her long fingers as you throw your head back and moan, your neck straining against her face. The words Shin was planning to voice out die at her mouth before they could leave, getting lost in the feeling of your spongy walls.
The ship is filled with lewd sounds that fell from your mouth and the wet, squelching noises, and only the vast expanse of the stars outside of the window seemed to bear witness to all of this. And it drives her absolutely insane to know that she’s the only one who could hear this right now, floating in space inside her ship with just the two of you inside.
Shin’s eyes flashed with intensity as your moans got louder and louder each time she fucked her fingers into you. She had never been one to be gentle—it showed in her training and her daily routines. And despite her natural inclination towards aggression, Shin had made a conscious effort to temper herself around you. But, god, there was no way she could hold herself back anymore after this.
Pulling her head back, Shin watches you moan and writhe underneath her, throwing your head back each time she hits that sweet spot—a spot that she found in a matter of seconds, like it was second nature to her. It felt so fucking good; almost too good. And so she presses, and presses, and presses until you clench around her fingers and come right onto her hand. Your juices trail down her wrist, and it only takes a second to admire the way you shake and tremble after she’s given you one of the best orgasms of your life. But Shin goes right back into fucking you once more, all while her thumb circles over your clit, at a faster and harder pace than before, barely giving you any time to catch your breath. You scream and squirm underneath her, whining pathetically about how it’s too much for you to handle, but she only smirks and makes no effort to slow her movements, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you. She was going to fucking ruin you.  
“S-Shin, please,” you tried calling out to ask for a chance to catch your breath. Even when you try to push her hand away, Shin holds you down, and you’re stuck with feeling the overwhelming pleasure build up again and again. “T-Too much—”
"I told you to stay still," Shin says, completely in awe as she watches the overstimulation rack through your entire body.
Without even thinking, Shin wraps her hand around your neck and squeezes, your broken moans turning her on even more than before. She loses herself at the sight of your mouth agape as you gasp for breath. The way you moan her name nearly drives her to the edge. Your mind was numb from the pleasure, and your grip on her wrist loosens as you throw your head back in euphoria. She pumps and pumps and pumps her fingers into you over and over again, until she brings you to your high once more. Then she makes you come a third time, a fourth, a fifth, a sixth—you couldn’t even count anymore—up until you gush all over her hand for what seemed like the third time tonight.
And she’s all you can think about. Shin, Shin, Shin. She presses her mouth against yours once again, moaning against her lips as you try your best to calm down. Your body shakes against her own, quivering as Shin uses her other hand to palm your thighs soothingly. Your essence leaks all over her bed, her hands, and her pants and Shin thinks it’s perfect. She thinks you’re perfect—the prettiest thing she has ever laid her eyes on. Your body goes limp as soon as you come back down from your high, still trembling slightly as Shin slowly pulls her fingers out of you. For a while, she just stares at the way your wetness coats her fingers. You watch her lick a long stripe over her fingers, and the way she rolls her eyes back at the taste of you.
Before you could even form a singular thought, your eyelids fell closed, and it was almost like your brain melted away. Shin seemingly fucked every brain cell out of you, and you could barely even think anymore. She smiles when you pass out right in front of her. A part of her wishes that she went a little gentler on you; maybe then she’d get to fuck you for a little while longer. But she was too impatient. You laid in front of her on her bed like a gourmet meal served on a silver platter.
It was perfect. Shin was obsessed with you. She needed you more strongly than the word love could imply. And she was going to slaughter anyone who dared to take you away from her.
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