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simsadventures · 3 years

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Mellow Hearts

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky take a vacation by the ocean, happy to just spend some quality time together by the beach.

Warnings: fluff, smut (MUST BE 18+ TO READ THIS STORY)- lovemaking, sweet and tender you guys, nothing animalistic this time

Word Count: 1186

A/N: Some shorter Bucky action for my lovely followers. This is also a super late fic for my friend’s Laura’s @imanuglywombat writing challenge #uglywombat4Kchallenge, where I picked the song by Nick Murphy- Talk is Cheap (Talk is cheap my darling/ When you’re feeling right at home/ I wanna make you move with confidence/ I wanna be with you alone,) and the moodboard Beach, which is the picture for this fic. Anyway, enjoy my lovely people, and once again, congrats Laura for reaching such an amazing milestone.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist __ Masterlist

His heart beat against your skin, and you couldn’t believe this was happening. Life had been hectic in the past few months, and there were rare moments you and your man could spend together, let alone together for longer than 24 hours. So, the chance of going on a vacation for a week, where you didn’t have to worry about being called to a mission and not seeing Bucky for a week minimum.

To have him in your arms now was priceless. It was the whole aura in the room that got you going ever since you arrived. The hotel was situated near the beach, so much so that you could taste the salt in the air coming from the ocean when you opened up the French windows. Bucky mentioned multiple times that you tasted a bit salty, but that he enjoyed it immensely because it was something new. And he was all in for trying novelties with you, especially when it came to you and the taste of your skin.

Seeing Bucky in this new environment, where he didn’t have to be the Sargent, always alert and ready to fight any danger that would come his way. But here he was calm and in peace, smiling freely and not caring about his diet like he did back in New York. He was his best self when he was out of the team, and you often wondered if it weren’t better for you two to just retire after so many years serving the world, and leave for some quiet place wherever he would like, and just live happily there.

But Bucky thought it was too soon after all that had happened with Thanos, and you let him call the shots because you really didn’t mind either. What you did mind, however, was when he wasn’t rested and happy, and so you pushed on Sam to just let you two off the hook for at least a week so that you could get your strength back. And as even the always-blind Sam saw, Bucky needed to get his mind back into peace, so he let you two go.

That’s how you found yourselves on the coast of Spain, sitting on the bed by the open balcony door, staring deep into each other’s eyes.

When you woke up that morning, you felt quite sore from the escapades of the previous days, both in the room and, quite dangerously, even on the beach and in the sea, because, as the trip showed, Bucky was quite the exhibitionist and the idea of getting caught thrilled him to the bone. You didn’t mind some semi-public action either since you knew Bucky and his super-hearing and super-strength would hear anybody actually coming near you and would carry you to safety.

Bucky was worried that he hurt you from the low moans escaping you in the morning, but you relentlessly assured him that you were okay, just a little sore here and there. When the information finally hit his brain, he realised he didn’t have to go sex-free for the day, and the mood changed quickly. But unlike all the other days, when you two acted almost purely on animalistic instinct, this morning you craved a deeper connection.

Sitting on top of Bucky who was sitting as well with your legs entangled around his torso, you threw your head back as Bucky’s hips moved from left to right, creating friction on your sensitive clit that you so needed. He always knew what your body was asking for and was very quick to deliver.

Sweat was glistening on your skins, and in the light of the early morning sun, Bucky looked more beautiful than ever. And you were sure to tell him over and over again.

“You’re so handsome like this, Buck. Fuck, if you could only feel what my heart feels. It’s so full when I’m looking at you, your pupils blown and your lips just a little redder because of my kisses. You look so happy, and my heart literally swells my love,” you moaned as you ground your hips against his, and Bucky hissed in pleasure. You could even feel his cock do a little jump at your praise.

It was a long time ago that you found your spot boy had a praise kink, and you used that to both your and his advantage. Every word of love you said was the truth, which made it that more alluring to Bucky.

“Fuck, doll, you’re so beautiful like this, riding me gently and just staring in my eyes. I feel like I’m staring right into your soul, and do you know what I see? My home. We don’t need to speak, because I often feel like talk is cheap, but I know you, and I know your heart, and you are my home. Fuck, I love you so much!” Bucky was speaking through his teeth, the pleasure taking over his speech, but you appreciated his effort.

And he was right, you were each other’s home no matter where you found yourselves. This was more than love; this was the complete conjunction of souls. Each move he made was felt not only in your pussy but also in your heart, because of the way he looked at you. Like he would do anything for you. His actions spoke louder than the words, and each thrust of his hips sent you both closer to your climaxes.

What Bucky saw in your eyes was taking his breath away. You were confident in your love for him, which you conveyed with each little kiss, each little nip at his lips and his neck. Your eyes showed him how deep your love ran that it was interlaced with the very essence of you, and when the realisation hit him, that you were utterly and entirely his, most probably forever, he came with a loud grunt and stutter of his hips, triggering your own orgasm so much, so you shouted and fell into his open arms, where his erratic but happy heart awaited you.

“We should take time off like this more often, doll, I think it suits us,” he said to your hair, and you chuckled at the relaxed expression on his face when you looked up.

“Yeah, I think making love three times a day on a daily basis does suit us,” you smirked, and Bucky pinched your side but still laughed with you.

“We should hit the beach soon if we want to catch some good spots, doll,” Bucky mused, and you just hummed, not really sold on the idea of leaving the comfort of neither the room and Bucky’s arms. He tried to make a move towards the bathroom, but your arms held him so tight he gave up the idea of leaving very shortly after feeling your arms locking behind his back. You wanted him near, and he would give you anything you asked for. Because he would do anything to be with you alone, and he wished this vacation never ended. Maybe leaving the guns behind wasn’t such a bad idea.

Taglist in reblogs (trying to make these tags work!! Ugh, Tumblr!!)

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choicesarehard · 3 years

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I keep my streams about Wolf Bride light-hearted. It’s been a hell of a year, and I think we all need a space where we can laugh together. But part of responsibly consuming problematic media is being aware of where it fails. And that’s why I think it’s important to talk about Morgan, and Wolf Bride’s troubling depiction of blindness.

Morgan is one of the first Love Interests in Choices to have a canon disability. She is representation many players with disabilities, like myself, are eager for. But like any form of representation, writing a blind character requires research. A quick google search will lead you to numerous visually impaired voices who outline the tropes and stereotypes that harm their community. Wolf Bride has included nearly all of them.

signal boosts are appreciated

Not All Blind People Wear Sunglasses

Morgan is shown wearing dark sunglasses from the moment she appears on screen. And there are certainly blind people who wear sunglasses — particularly those who (unlike Morgan) can still perceive some degree of light and dark, and experience painful light sensitivity. But no context is ever giving for Morgan’s use of sunglasses. In fact, they aren’t even addressed for four chapters.

[ID: Two screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box over a forest background, and reads “You glance at Morgan, and are surprised to see the dark glasses still covering her eyes.” The second features a labeled image of her sunglasses, placed over a black background, with a selectable button that reads “What does Morgan look like without these?”] What follows is a scene Pixelberry could have used to provide insight into an assistive device the sighted community may not be entirely familiar with. They could have touched on degrees of visual impairment, or why some blind individuals need dark lenses while others don’t. They could even have explained that for some individuals with visual impairments, dark lenses make tasks like reading or navigating dimly lit spaces harder. Instead, and far more troublingly, MC is given the option to ask Morgan not to wear them anymore. And depending on your choice, the book is coded to remove the sunglasses from her sprite in future scenes. This reduces an assistive device to a fashion choice, something our MC can wish away if they don’t find it attractive. And that isn’t okay.

Unusual Eyes

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box placed over a forest background that reads “With a start, you realize her pale eyes aren’t looking at you, aren’t seeing you, aren’t seeing anything.” The second features Morgan’s sad sprite in the same forest setting, and a text box that reads “...I’ve been blind since birth.”] Morgan has a customizable sprite. But regardless of the ethnicity you select for her, she is depicted with pale blue eyes. And that troubles me. Because the stereotype that all blind individuals have cloudy, distorted, or unusual eyes is pervasive and harmful.

Even when it isn’t tied to another harmful trope — the blind character as mystical seer or psychic — this stereotype create an expectation that blindness is something that always manifests in a visible way. And for millions of blind individuals, that isn’t the case.

And while cataracts, trauma to the eye, and corneal infections can all cause the clouded effect most of us recognize from media, none turn your brown eyes into blue. Heightened Senses

Another common stereotype in media is the blind character who’s remaining senses have become heightened as a compensatory mechanism, often to a supernatural degree.

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features Morgan’s surprised sprite in a forest setting and a text box that reads “I guess I sort of...feel things. Like the place on my cheek where the branch blocked the wind.” The second features Morgan’s neutral sprite in the same forest setting, and a text box that reads “I can smell the dew on the leaves, and the moss on the bark. Can’t you?] Individuals with visual impairment may learn to rely on their other senses to navigate the world around them. But they do not suddenly gain the ability to sense the location of a branch based on wind patterns, or to accurately throw a dart at a carnival game ballon based on its smell.

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eight of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box placed over a carnival background that reads “Pop! Pop! Pop! Three darts fly through the air, striking their targets.” The second features the white MC with straight blonde hair. Her sprite is surprised, and beneath it is a text box that reads “So you did that by smell, too?]

This trope may seem harmless — after all, it gave us Daredevil, a beloved blind superhero — but it contributes to the unachievable expectations we often place on real-world individuals with visually impairments. And that isn’t fair.

Of course, we all suspected Morgan’s abilities were due to something other than heightened senses. And that in and of itself is a problem.

Magical / Supernatural Abilities

To the surprise of no one, Morgan exhibits these unusual abilities because she is a werewolf. But choosing to give a blind character magical abilities should only be done after asking yourself some challenging questions. As visually-impaired Tumblr user @mimzy-writing-online explains:

Your blind characters don’t need a magical ability that negates their blindness. [Ask yourself why it’s so important to you to give them one]. If it’s because they can’t do all the things you want them to do without it, then should you really have written them as blind in the first place?

And that’s the thing. Morgan isn’t actually written as a blind character, not when it counts. Morgan shoots bullets with accuracy, runs through unfamiliar terrain, and navigates moving objects with ease. She doesn’t use common assistive devices like canes or screen readers. Her sunglasses are discarded at MC’s request. The scientific papers that fill her research facility are not digitized for accessibility or written in braille.

Even her dreams, which should be reflections of how she perceives reality, look identical to Bastien's — which makes no sense for someone who has been canonically blind since birth.

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapters Five and Eight of Wolf Bride. The first features a scene from Morgan’s lucid dream. Set in a glamorous hotel, it includes visual details like twinkling lights, and patterned carpets. The color is tinted a grey-blue and the exposure on the image has been increased to an unnatural level. The second features a scene from Bastien’s lucid dream. Set in a forest, it shares the same tinted and over-exposed qualities as the first.]

Her blindness isn’t an integral part of her character. Instead, it’s a narrative device, paraded in front of the reader when it can further a central — and deeply disturbing — plot point. [content warning: discussion of discrimination and child abuse / abandonment ahead] Morgan Was Left to Die Because She Was Blind

And Jesus, what a plot point it is. In Chapter 11, we learn that Morgan was left to die in the woods because she was born “wrong, sickly, blind.” But the only canonical disability or illness she is ever shown to have is her blindness.

[ID: Three side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eleven of Wolf Bride. The first two feature the white MC with straight blonde hair’s shocked sprite in front of a forest background. The first text box reads “I don’t understand...” followed by two dialogue options “Why was Morgan abandoned?” and “Is that what you do to full moon babies? Kill them?” The second panel’s read box reads “Just because she was blind?” The third panel features the old woman Noemi’s sad sprite, placed over a forest background. Her text box reads “If we know an infant will not survive, it is best to let it die quickly.”]

I...am frankly having a hard time thinking through the screenshot-induced fury to make a coherent argument here. To imply that blindness is an impairment so limiting that death is the only foreseeable outcome? That being born blind somehow makes a child “wrong”? The ignorance and prejudice shown in this scene is staggering.

But equally troubling is the response of the main characters to this revelation. Yes, in fiction, bad people sometimes do bad things. But Noemi isn’t shown to be a bad person. Neither is Bastien, who knew what his pack had been guilty of in the past, and even seeks to justify it to a limited degree.

Most shockingly, Morgan herself, who in the second screenshot below has just overheard that she was left to die as an infant because she is blind, isn’t angry or upset. She’s almost apologetic, still seeking a place within the pack.

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eleven of Wolf Bride. The first features Hispanic Bastien’s sad sprite in front of a forest background. The text box beneath him reads “It doesn’t happen often, Clara, but...” The second features white Morgan’s sad sprite in front of the same forest background. The text box beneath her reads “I didn’t mean any harm. Especially after...what I just overheard.”]

By introducing the idea that a child born blind cannot survive, let alone thrive, without superhuman abilities, and then failing to soundly and thoroughly refute that idea through the characters we identify with, Pixelberry is unintentionally perpetuating the same false beliefs that have led to real-world instances of infanticide for centuries. And that isn’t okay.

I don’t know where Pixelberry will go with the story from here. Perhaps in today’s chapter some of these concerns have been addressed...but I doubt it. In the meantime, I’ve also written to their support staff to express my deep concern and disappointment in the treatment of Morgan’s character. And I’d encourage you to do the same.

Will I continue to keep streaming Wolf Bride? For now, yes. My VIP subscription is already paid for, and frankly, I want to see Morgan’s arc through. I guess the small part of me that was excited for the representation is still hopeful the narrative can be corrected.

But I’ll be adding a content warning at the start of each stream for ablism, and that’s something I never thought I’d have to do. Screenshots courtesy of CrimsonFeatherGames on Youtube

#playchoices #pixelberry #choices vip #wolf bride #choices wolf bride #cw: child abuse #cw: ableism #anti-wolf bride

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Chapter 5 of The Quiet Room (ao3 or tumblr pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4)

Nie Mingjue took three tries to wake up.

In all truth, he wasn’t that badly injured – if it hadn’t been for how tangled his spiritual energy already was, steeped in resentment from his wayward cultivation and burned by trying to keep a saber’s pace from within a human body, a night’s rest and some tonics would probably have been enough to put him right. But it was, and he was, and so the concern of his doctors was all the more pronounced.

The first time he woke, it was to Nie Xiaoxuan, a cantankerous old doctor who’d lost all patience with her patients years before Nie Mingjue had been conceived, looking down at him with a scowl, saying, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Go back to sleep!”

A needle had descended, leaving him not much choice about the matter – it was a good thing he was used to such rough treatment, or else he might’ve worried. Instead he found some comfort in how some things were always the same, and his Nie sect’s objectively awful bedside manner was one of them.

He slept.

He woke a second time to arguing outside his door in the middle of the night, whispers and hisses that were so loud as to be unworthy of being called lowered voices –

“– the Sect Leader deserves to know!”

“Nie-er-gongzi gave the order, and it was obeyed. There isn’t any need to disturb the Sect Leader’s recuperation over nonsense.”

“Nonsense?! Do you know what the implications will be? Nie-er-gongzi is still young, he doesn’t understand –”

“Sect Leader was once younger still. There is still sect discipline, or are you making an official challenge to his judgment? If so, you should be bothering Nie-er-gongzi, as the one who gave the order, and a council of peers that would be assembled to determine if his judgment was flawed.”

“I - no. I won’t.”

“If there’s no challenge to the quality of Nie-er-gongzi’s judgment, then there’s no reason to talk to the Sect Leader.”

Nie Mingjue smiled, proud of his sect and of his brother – even if he didn’t know exactly what it was that Nie Huaisang had ordered that had caused such a stir – and went back to sleep.

He woke up the third time to the sounds of a guqin.

He’d always been slow to wake from an induced sleep, and this time was no different – his body was heavy, confining, and it was a long time before he managed to open his eyes. A half-shichen at least, and yet the guqin continued steadfastly onwards.

So by the time he did manage to open his eyes, the first words out of Nie Mingjue’s mouth were, “Wangji, please stop making a racket.”

The sound of the guqin paused.

Nie Mingjue turned his head to look at him. Lan Wangji looked better than he had the last time he’d seen him, in that horrible mixture of nightmare and reality that had been their flight from the Cloud Recesses and the terrible strain of flying all the way to Qinghe in a single night. If either of them had been lesser cultivators, they wouldn’t have been able to manage it; even at their level, it was considered highly unwise, and they had known that they were spending life energy rather than spiritual qi to buy them the strength they needed.

At least it had been late enough that both children, initially excited by all the rushing around involved in their escape, had quickly lapsed back into sleep instead of descending to tears.

Still, better was a low bar. By the end of their flight, Lan Wangji had had blood soaking through his white robes, his eye locked on the horizon and unable to focus on anything nearer, his entire body wracked with occasional shudders – if he’d been anyone else, he would have been screaming.

He still look pale and bloodless, his eyes hunted and guilty and tired, stark white bandages visible beneath the pale (but not white) robes that looked like something Nie Huaisang had once owned, but he didn’t look about to expire, so Nie Mingjue would take that as a victory.

“I would have thought,” Lan Wangji said carefully, laying his hands on the guqin chords to stop the sound, “that you would prefer that it not be silent.”

“There’s silence and then there’s silence,” Nie Mingjue said, trying to shrug and abruptly realizing that that was a bad idea. His shoulders and neck and back all hurt – possibly he’d dislocated something in trying to get out of that horrible room. Probably, even. “Not wanting to be locked in a room designed to be as close to nothingness as possible doesn’t necessarily mean that I don’t want some peace and quiet once in a while…I shouldn’t have called your playing a racket. It’s very good. There was just a lot of it.”

Lan Wangji blinked, then shook his head. “I do not take offense,” he said, simply enough that Nie Mingjue believed him. “It is a surprise that you think the way you do about silence, even now. I myself have been…struggling, with the concept.”

“It’s very loud here,” Nie Mingjue said knowingly, and Lan Wangji averted his eyes. “It’s all right if you don’t like it that much, you know. Has Huaisang talked with you about the options for soundproofing?”

“He has,” Lan Wangji said. “I have not yet accepted.”

“Why not?”

“It feels –” he hesitated. “Like a step backwards. My Lan sect has always valued silence, quiet – not just valued, but imposed, even on those for whom it is not appropriate.”

Like you, he meant, or maybe he was thinking about little Lan Jingyi, the orphan he’d stolen away from his own sect – truly stolen, since unlike little Lan Sizhui Lan Wangji had no guardianship rights over him to justify taking him away.

Nie Mingjue hadn’t objected to it, figuring that it didn’t make much difference to the amount of scandal he would undoubtedly causse whether he had taken away one child or two when he convinced the Second Jade of Lan to abandon his ‘seclusion’ in favor of refuge at the Unclean Realm. Anyway, if Lan Wangji had concluded that it would be better for the child to leave, then it probably was – Nie Mingjue trusted his judgment.

Just like you trusted Lan Xichen’s?

“Each sect has a different cultivation style,” he said, deciding not to think about that right now. “With both strengths and weaknesses. My Nie sect has a martial style, aggressive and overpowering; your Lan sect, although it still follows the orthodoxy of sword cultivation, focuses on contemplation, thoughtfulness, and, yes, quiet. Who is to say which is better than the other? They’re just different.”

Lan Wangji was frowning.

“Sometimes I think Wen Mao made a mistake when he abandoned sects based on preference and style in favor of raising up his clan,” Nie Mingjue confessed. “And your ancestors and mine, too, in following his lead. Look at Huaisang – to cultivate a saber is his heritage, his birthright and his duty to our bloodline, and so he must do so despite being clearly unsuited for it.” He paused, then sighed. “Not that he’s all that suitable for anything else, either.”

Lan Wangji shot him a quelling look, disapproving, but in the sort of way that Lans had when they were amused by you.

“Still, we’re all cultivators, each of us fighting against fate,” Nie Mingjue continued. “While we must be guided by our traditions, we must also each find the path that suits us best. You’ve always enjoyed the quiet, Wangji; you welcome peace, prefer order, thrive within the confines of your sect’s rules. Finding the point at which you and your traditions part ways does not mean that you are morally obligated to give up everything about them.”

“Not even when those traditions have caused so much harm?”

“Even so,” Nie Mingjue said firmly. “We’re all on a path, and in choosing to take a new turn, you are not disregarding the past, but adding your wisdom to that of those who came before you. I made changes to my Nie sect’s cultivation style once I became sect leader, just as my father did before me; my brother will make still more when he takes the position after I go. Each of my Nie sect disciples practices the Nie sect style, but each one takes it and makes it their own. Keep what helps, discard what hurts.”

“But in this case, is it not the very same thing?” Lan Wangji asked. His brow was still furrowed, the matter clearly one of great concern to him. “I have always turned to the quiet for comfort and strength, sought seclusion to temper myself and test myself, and yet – in the absence of all noise– I found myself slowly going mad, locked away and alone. You yourself nearly died from it. What lesson can I take from this, if not that the quiet is evil?”

“You can take the lesson that too much quiet can be an evil, in the same way too much medicine can be a poison,” Nie Mingjue said. “I might hate your jingshi, since it doesn’t suit me, but I’m given to understand that it often helps, too. It brings peace to cultivators who are tormented by a mind full of thoughts they cannot quiet and helps them fight the demons in their hearts, it allows those who are too connected to the world to tear themselves away. It was built for a purpose.”

“It was,” Lan Wangji said. “A purpose it has now betrayed.”

Nie Mingjue didn’t have anything to say about that. He’d once told Lan Xichen that he thought his sect’s practice of introducing children to that place until they learned quiet whether they liked it or not was inhumane and cruel, and Lan Xichen – in a rare moment of sarcasm – had asked him if teaching them to cultivate a saber spirit that would eventually consume their minds with rage was somehow meant to be morally superior.

To each their own faults, he supposed. Perhaps the next generation would do better.

(He found himself thinking things like that a great deal, these days. He was only in his twenties, and yet his thoughts resembled an old man’s – the feeling of death stalking his footsteps, the day nearly done, his legacy a book that seemed to be nearly completed.

That had been what had driven him to stop his sessions of Clarity with Jin Guangyao, in fact. He’d been reviewing a plan for renovating the western courtyards of the Unclean Realm as part of a long-term plan to get more air and light in there and he’d found himself thinking I probably won’t be here to see this completed, and that had been when he’d realized that it was time to start seriously planning for succession.)

“Perhaps it is the conflation of different things,” Lan Wangji mused, more to himself than anyone else. “The quiet, being alone, loneliness…and yet you can have quiet without being alone, you can be alone without being lonely, you can be lonely without quiet. A balance between disconnecting from the world and connecting with other people.”

That sounded like poetry, and Nie Mingjue could see Lan Wangji’s fingers twitch towards the guqin – he’d probably been inspired.

Nie Mingjue sighed and put his hand over his eyes. His father had told him that being an elder brother meant a life of sacrifice, and he’d been right. “All right,” he said. “Go ahead and play something. I know you want to.”

Lan Wangji was silent for a few long moments, and then his fingers began to move, the too-familiar sound of the Song of Clarity rising up to fill Nie Mingjue’s ears.

“I didn’t mean for me,” Nie Mingjue clarified, rolling his eyes while his hand was still hiding them. The Lan were always so earnest. “I’m not even meditating right now, Wangji. Don’t waste your effort.”

Lan Wangji’s fingers stilled briefly, then continued.

“Chifeng-zun –”

Nie Mingjue pulled his hand away long enough to give Lan Wangji a stern look – he’d already told him several times to refer to him more casually, and however long or short his stay at the Unclean Realm was, if they were going to endure a scandal together, he was simply going to have to adjust to their ways.

Lan Wangji looked long-suffering.

“Mingjue-xiong,” he conceded, and Nie Mingjue nodded, pleased. “Please pay close attention to my playing. Identify if there are any differences between my rendition and –”

“Wangji,” Nie Mingjue interrupted, feeling pained at the very thought. “I can’t.”

Lan Wangji frowned at him, his eyes showing distress.

Nie Mingjue felt guilty at once, and exhaled a sigh. “Wangji, you know I don’t cultivate with music,” he said. “It’s all just interminable plucking to me.”

Lan Wangji’s eyebrows shot up. “Plucking?” he echoed, and Nie Mingjue winced – he’d probably shocked poor Lan Wangji’s conscience. “Mingjue-xiong…you really don’t like music, do you?”

“Not in the slightest,” Nie Mingjue confessed. “I can more or less follow a beat or rhythm, and military calls are fine no matter what instrument is involved, but the rest is all a mess of pointless noise. I can’t tell if the notes are high or low, which ones go before the others, and apparently there are different tones in music as there are in speech? Except in music, certain of them apparently sporadically considered bad, in a variety of different and exciting ways, sometimes but not others, none of which make the slightest difference – ”

He stopped talking on account of Lan Wangji having started to make an unusual hiccupping sound.

Nie Mingjue squinted. Was Lan Wangji…laughing?

If so, he was sorely out of practice. Though now that he thought it, that seemed to make some sense.

“Forgive me,” Lan Wangji said, shoulders shaking – he’d stopped making audible noise, but he was evidently still suffering from an attack of hilarity. “You speak so well, Mingjue-xiong; I had not realized that you suffered from amusia.” He saw Nie Mingjue’s frown of confusion and clarified, “Tone-deafness.”

“I say so all the time!”

“I had incorrectly assumed, as I suspect many have, that you were using the term colloquially,” Lan Wangji said. “How do you fight alongside my brother? I have seen you do so flawlessly, without any impediment, even when he wields Liebing.”

“I can follow along with what he’s doing with his qi,” Nie Mingjue said. “We have been close for so many years, and his spiritual energy is as familiar to me as my own –”

Lan Wangji flinched.

Nie Mingjue stopped talking.

His heart was heavy in his chest, weighed down with feeling, all those things he’d been so carefully not thinking about suddenly stifling him. Lan Xichen, his childhood friend, his lover, his beloved…

He’d hurt him.

Nie Mingjue couldn’t bring himself to believe that the act had been intentional or malicious, not even when Lan Wangji’s arrival made painfully clear that Lan Xichen hadn’t even bothered to supervise him. It simply wasn’t in Lan Xichen’s nature to do such an underhanded thing –

(You once thought Meng Yao wouldn’t do that sort of thing, either. Do you make a habit of blindness?)

He had known Lan Xichen for such a long time, though. If he didn’t know him, both virtues and faults, what person existed that he could say he understood?

No, Lan Xichen must have been trying to help him, not hurt him. And yet – regardless of his intent – he had.

He had hurt him very badly.

Lan Xichen hadn’t listened to him, had ignored him, disregarded him – Nie Mingjue had been as clear as he could be about how he felt about the quiet room. Perhaps he hadn’t told Lan Xichen about his youthful attempt to see if he could handle it, at first out of simply not wanting to appear weak in front of his lover, but later out of (admittedly petty) principle: shouldn’t his ‘no’ be enough? Shouldn’t Lan Xichen have trusted him?

He hadn’t.

He’d trusted Jin Guangyao instead.

Jin Guangyao with his smiles and slippery manner, with his so-believable excuses and always-present rationalizations, always the victim in every exchange they had – Lan Xichen always went to comfort him first after they had another one of their arguments, Nie Mingjue recalled abruptly. He’d called him on it once, in his anger, but Lan Xichen had explained that he knew how strong Nie Mingjue was, how resilient, and that his “A-Yao” needed his sympathy more.

Nie Mingjue hadn’t thought much of it at the time. He was resilient, and anyway he knew how frightening his rages could be; he’d thought perhaps that Lan Xichen simply wanted the excuse to be elsewhere until he’d had a chance to calm down.

He’d rationalized a lot of things. Maybe too many. But this?

This was too much.

“Mingjue-xiong,” Lan Wangji said hesitantly. “About – about my brother…”

Nie Mingjue grimaced, and Lan Wangji felt silent once more.

Nie Mingjue’s heart cried out for his lover, the kind and gentle man who might be a little too reluctant to express himself, a little prone to going with the will of the majority to avoid confrontation, a little inclined to panic at the thought of disappointing people, but whose faults only made him the more human, the more loveable.

But Nie Mingjue had slept, and slept well, and even if his heart was still tangled, his mind was now clear.

“I have long thought,” he said carefully, painfully cognizant of the fact that Lan Wangji was Lan Xichen’s younger brother, “that fate had arranged for your brother and I to meet, and that we would live the rest of our lives intertwined, our hears and minds filled with thoughts of one another. But it seems to me now that that was perhaps – not our destiny.”

“My brother has wronged you,” Lan Wangji said solemnly.

“I still believe his intent was good,” Nie Mingjue assured him earnestly. “Your brother has – more reason than most, I think, to resent my intransigence on matters of my health, and to suspect – to suspect –”

He stopped, swallowed. He had long been (politely) termed to be a straightforward man; it was not in his character to stutter over his speech, to be unable to say the unvarnished truth no matter how painful. Even if it was his lover who was causing him such pain.

“Wangji,” he said instead, and Lan Wangji looked at him. “You know that my family – does not live long lives.”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“It is not uncommon,” he said carefully, “for those in my family to begin to show signs of decline before the end. A certain rigidity of thought –”

“You are not so far down that path that your thinking has become impaired,” Lan Wangji said abruptly, his voice unexpectedly fierce. “Moreover, your refusal was not new, but consistent with your prior thoughts, your opinion expressed repeatedly and consistently. Do not make excuses for him.”

Nie Mingjue was a little surprised, having expected Lan Wangji to defend his brother, but then he recalled the matter of those thirty-three marks marring Lan Wangji’s back. Even if Lan Wangji’s conduct had been wrong, it had been motivated by love, and at any rate the others in the Lan sect had not died – no one had died, except for Wei Wuxian, and Lan Wangji had only been able to offer his beloved the succor of his presence for a short time before he returned to submit himself to punishment.

Impulsive, hot-headed, passionate – it might not be the actions of a Lan, but, as a Nie, Nie Mingjue found his sympathies lay with Lan Wangji in this matter. Yes, he had defended a murderer from being torn apart by the hands of his victims, and Nie Mingjue would not say that he did not think it was necessary for Wei Wuxian to die, but even those that had been duly tried and sentenced to the worst capital punishment might still be allowed the mercy of a good meal and the touch of their lover’s hand before they were executed, and a bit of disobedience against one’s elders was to be expected in any love affair.

Was fending off a few old men to buy a few shichen of love before its premature end really worth a punishment that would have crippled anyone weaker?

“Actions matter more than intent,” he agreed, wondering how he could convey his thoughts on the subject without being offensive to the Lan sect, “but that doesn’t make intent meaningless. To act from love and affection is still better than for – other reasons.”

He wasn’t sure Lan Wangji had understood his meaning: the other man only lowered his eyes.

Nie Mingjue’s mind reluctantly returned to his own troubles.

“I’ll speak with Xichen,” he decided, even though he knew it was probably a bad idea. Lan Xichen’s conduct, however it was meant, could be understood as having brought him to the very precipice of death – enough justification to start a war, given that Nie Mingjue was a sect leader. Their respective positions meant that a disagreement between them could never be simply personal, but was also political; if Nie Mingjue allowed his soft heart to convince him to forgive Lan Xichen, he would be setting a poor standard for the future. “He can explain what he was thinking. If I find his explanation unsatisfactory, I will – tell him what I told you.”

Nie Mingjue was blunt and direct, sparing no one – not even himself – but he was not so cold as to be able to cut off a relationship that already spanned the majority of his life sign unseen. He would give Lan Xichen one chance to salvage things between them, to be shocked into sobriety by the extent of how things had gotten out of hand, to genuinely apologize –

“I think,” Lan Wangji said, very slowly, eyes still locked on the floor as if there was something fascinating there, “that brother’s explanation may omit that he was distracted by his other lover.”

Nie Mingjue’s heart froze in his chest.

“Other – lover?” he said dumbly. Lan Wangji refused to look at him. “Wangji – are you saying – Xichen has..?”

Lan Xichen wouldn’t. Surely he wouldn’t.

“Lianfeng-zun has told him lies, and Brother accepted them without verification,” Lan Wangji said, and his voice was bitter. “I believe that he feared confronting you on the subject of a man he knew you disliked, and also saw an opportunity to obtain his heart’s desire – to not give up anything and yet gain something he wanted. And Lianfeng-zun is known to be skilled in anticipating people’s desires.”

Nie Mingjue stared at the ceiling in a daze, his mind whirling.

So many little things suddenly made a belated sort of sense.

The way Lan Xichen seemed so certain that all the troubles between them were only temporary, the way that he entreated Nie Mingjue to think kindly of Jin Guangyao as if there was a stronger bond between them than a lost former friendship and a new sworn brotherhood. The way Jin Guangyao acted more intimately with Nie Mingjue whenever Lan Xichen was present, only to return to a more professional remove once they were alone – he’d assumed that was because Jin Guangyao knew that Lan Xichen would protect him if Nie Mingjue got annoyed with him for such familiarities and that Nie Mingjue would not want to upset his beloved by scolding over something so minor.

But if, for instance, Jin Guangyao had told Lan Xichen that they had been lovers once, those public intimacies, and Lan Xichen’s joy in them, all suddenly took on a new flavor –

Surely Lan Xichen knew that Nie Mingjue would never have done that to him?

Skilled in anticipating people’s desires.

Nie Mingjue had noticed Lan Xichen’s fondness for Jin Guangyao from the first, back when Jin Guangyao had been only Meng Yao, and he’d known that Meng Yao had respected and even revered the beautiful, powerful, and chivalrous Zewu-jun. He’d been pleased when they’d become friends, hadn’t minded the occasional light flirtation – he’d been so certain that nothing would come of it, trusted in Lan Xichen’s morality and their love. He himself was not skilled in wordplay the way they were, nor as sensitive to the subtle changes in a conversation, preferring to stay silent rather than risk mis-stepping, a habit formed of too much responsibility and exposure to politics at too early an age. Why shouldn’t Lan Xichen get to enjoy the cut and thrust of charming, clever conversation with an expert at the art?

They had all been friends back then. Nie Mingjue had been so proud of his prized deputy, and pleased beyond measure that Lan Xichen liked him as well; Nie Mingjue had so few friends that the addition of another one was something he treasured. Even if Lan Xichen’s good sense had surely told him that such betrayal was impossible, given Nie Mingjue’s character, he might still in his reckless desires allow himself to be intoxicated by his affections and believe it for just a little while – just long enough to taste Jin Guangyao’s lips, perhaps.

That’d be enough.

Nie Mingjue knew Lan Xichen well; he knew his lover’s faults as well as he knew his virtues. If Lan Xichen had allowed himself to act foolishly for a moment, he would have panicked at the thought of coming to terms with it, and Jin Guangyao was so good at soothing his panic. Too good: where Nie Mingjue, in his harshness, had always advised revisiting mistakes and learning from them, no matter how difficult the process, Jin Guangyao would always recommend being kind to oneself, taking care of oneself, avoiding the pain that came with tackling one’s flaws and erroneous self-conceptions head-on.

Too much care for the self would eventually mean not enough care for others, Nie Mingjue had always thought, rolling his eyes whenever Jin Guangyao earnestly held forth on his views. But Lan Xichen had liked it – and why wouldn’t he? It was easier to put yourself first, to refuse to admit mistakes were mistakes, to rationalize events until you were always the victim and everyone else wrong. It meant you didn’t have to confront your own capacity for cruelty and selfishness, could conceive of yourself as always virtuous and always good and always right.

Right, rather than righteous.

Justified, rather than just.

The way Jin Guangyao always did.

Yes, Lan Xichen might allow himself to kiss Jin Guangyao, or more if Jin Guangyao pushed his advantage – which he would, Nie Mingjue had no doubt of that – and then, after the fog of lust had cleared, Lan Xichen would realize that he’d have to confess the entire thing to Nie Mingjue.

An emotional confrontation of the sort he hated most.

And then, of course, just as Lan Xichen was most upset and vulnerable, Jin Guangyao would offer him a way out – a way for Lan Xichen to continue to see himself as a good person who had done no wrong, who didn’t need confront anything – a way to get a new love alongside the old, to have Jin Guangyao’s clever speech and gentle care while not losing Nie Mingjue’s steadfast affection and support.

It was not uncommon in their times for a man to have more than one wife and entirely possible for him to love them both equally; the idea of a triad was not so strange. But Lan Xichen should have asked.

He didn’t.

He didn’t ask because some part of him knew that the answer would be no, and, just as he had with the quiet room, that was not an answer he wished to accept.

And that…that was not something that could be blamed on Jin Guangyao, as much as Nie Mingjue would prefer to do so.

That was all Lan Xichen.

Lan Xichen...how could you do this to me?

Nie Mingjue closed his eyes in pain. It felt as if all the air had been knocked out of him, like a really good punch might do - he felt hollow, weightless, disconnected, as if he had been struck by a blow that had shattered his bones and he was drifting in that blank space in the moment after the blow landed but before the pain reached his brain.

The full weight of the revelation would hit, eventually. He would feel it all, eventually.

“I see,” he said, and he did. Lan Wangji was upset over it in a way that suggested that he had only recently learned the truth. Given the speed of their travel, that meant he must have discovered it while conversing with Nie Huaisang – and that was another problem, because Nie Huaisang was their father’s son just as Nie Mingjue was, and nothing sparked their rage more than an offense against a loved one. “Thank you for telling me.”

“It is what I should do.”

Nie Mingjue nodded, his throat tight, his chest dull as if there was a knot where his heart had been - yes, he would need some time to deal with this.

“Huaisang is managing well?” he asked, not quite able to bring himself to actually ask for a little more time before he had to return to being the stern and untouchable sect leader, before he had to once again take on the mantle of power and make all the decisions – to force himself to react as a politician rather than a betrayed lover. It would be disgraceful to give into such weakness.

“He is,” Lan Wangji said. “He has given orders that you may not leave your room until the end of the week at the earliest, so as to remind the disciples of the benefit of rest following an injury.”

Nie Mingjue loved his brother.

“Very well,” he said, and decided not to ask about what Nie Huaisang might or might not have gotten into over the last day or so that had led some disciples to think they needed to disturb his rest in order to tell him. It didn’t really matter. They needed to adjust to taking Nie Huaisang’s orders as if he was sect leader in truth – especially if Nie Mingjue’s health continued to deteriorate…

He didn’t have time to think too much on that before Lan Wangji spoke again, saying, “Even if you do not understand music, you can follow the emanations of qi from an instrument, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Nie Mingjue said, a little puzzled by the sudden shift in conversation but deeply relieved to have something to think about - anything, really, as long as it wasn’t the brutal feeling of his heart being torn to shreds within his chest.

“So if I were to utilize musical cultivation, you might be able to determine if I were using the same patterns as you had heard others use?”

“I suppose so,” Nie Mingjue said. It would be extremely irritating to have to pay attention to such small ebbs and flows, especially when he was also trying to meditate and draw the qi into himself for the fullest effect, but he was familiar enough with Clarity by now that he probably could if he really had to. “But why?”

“A suspicion,” Lan Wangji said. “Nie Huaisang has pointed out that Lianfeng-zun’s actions in connection to my brother are suggestive of malice against you, his actions in convincing my brother to lock you into the jingshi doubly so, and yet he comes to visit you regularly, purportedly to improve your health.”

Purportedly.

Nie Mingjue grimaced again, but this time it was with anger at himself – because the suggestion did not shock him the way the information about Lan Xichen had. Meng Yao, Meng Yao, he thought, I wish I didn’t believe this of you. I extended my trust to you twice over, and each time you have disappointed me…it’s my own fault, I suppose, for being arrogant enough to think I could change you.

“Thank you, Wangji,” he said, suddenly tired. “I understand your implication, and we will of course need to examine whether it is correct. But not today.”

“Of course,” Lan Wangji said, and stood up. “I will take my leave and go tell Nie Huaisang to move me into one of the soundproofed rooms. I require time to contemplate the subject of quiet.”

That made Nie Mingjue want to smile, though he couldn’t quite manage it, still twisted by all the revelations that had relentlessly pounded against him since he had awoken. “Good,” he said instead, turning to nod at Lan Wangji in approval. “I hope your meditation on the subject is fruitful.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji agreed. “As you said, I must find my own path, be guided by tradition but not unduly restricted by it. But there is one point in what you said that was incorrect.”

“Oh?”

“You said that I should not, without consideration, throw out my sect’s traditions,” Lan Wangji said, and he was standing stiffly, at attention, with his face as serious as it ever got. “But at the moment, it is not my sect. You have given me permission to stay here, and I intend to do so.”

Nie Mingjue’s first thought was oh that’s going to have some serious political implications, followed immediately by I guess I did do that didn’t I and someone is going to wring my throat over this, probably Huaisang, but very shortly thereafter with if this is what he needs then so be it.

Still, he could do nothing but watch, stunned, as Lan Wangji lifted his hands to his forehead and very deliberately removed the forehead ribbon that marked him as a member of the Lan sect – the symbol of his family, the symbol of his restraint, which he would normally have never allowed another person outside his family to see him without – and, just as deliberately, wrapped it around Nie Mingjue’s wrist.

“I would ask that you keep this for me, Mingjue-xiong,” Lan Wangji said, and his tone when he said Nie Mingjue’s name was the same as when he called Lan Xichen brother. “Until such time as I decide to reclaim it as my own, or discard it forever.”

“Of course,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice a little faint from shock. “Whatever you need, Wangji.”

Lan Wangji looked at him, grateful, and saluted deeply before leaving.

Nie Mingjue lay back down on the bed and stared at his wrist for a long moment.

This is going to have some serious political implications, he thought a second time. And Lan Xichen won’t ever forgive me for stealing away his little brother.

A moment later, he shook his head at his own foolishness. Lan Xichen had made his choices.

Now he would have to pay for them.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #the quiet room

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pickacardreading · 3 years

Text

WHAT WILL HAPPEN FOR ME IN 5 YEARS😍 (CAREER + LOVE)

Choose the pile that sparks a memory for you. It has your answers

1. WAXING CRESCENT MOON

I'm sorry to tell you darling but in 5 years, things are quite rocky in regards to school or career. But since these are minor arcana, it won't take away so much of your life. With Ace of Swords in reverse, at the start you will likely still be in the same position as you are right now or previous years. If you're now in high school or middle school, you're going to move to the same quality of school. The same with your job. Here's the point. In that place, there is going to be disharmony between you and those people in regards to misunderstandings between you and friends. Most likely these will be felt so much during group projects. So in school or college, you may have a hard time getting team members who help you out during group projects and at work, your coworkers will not really understand what you want them to do or the suggestions that you give to them in regards to work. This will make you feel trapped because you feel people don't wanna cooperate with you and you will feel that you have to fight alone throughout these projects all this time. You will feel not appreciated by them and a lot of time too you will feel alone meanwhile people seem to be working well in groups. So be wary about that, keep in mind about this. This is just a life cycle. You are being reminded to believe in the impossible. Yes things are sticky at first but you are going to be able to find the ways out. So in terms of you not being able to cooperate with your friends or coworkers, you either will have your skills elevated so that you don't need much help from them or there will be unexpected help for you so it will help you get through the task. Overall it'll benefit you in some ways although it's painful at first.

In regards to love, there will be a new man in your life. This man unfortunately will cause you sadness, confusions, and fears. This man will leave you feeling deserted as if you are not enough for them. This man is a young man who has fire placement (Aries, Leo, or Sagittarius) and he's an active person. He has a grand vision of himself and loves to achieve something in his life so he'll make plans to achieve his goals. He's also in touch with his intuition so he's also touchy in his feelings and most likely will always take decisions based on what his heart says. You and him are going to be official which means it's not going to be situationship or anything. You are warned here that things will not be good for you at first because it'll challenge you with your sense of self. There will be sadness in terms of this relationship. But the good thing is the challenge and sadness will only be there at first. After those challenges, there will be happiness. You are going to feel fulfilled in this relationship. Overall as we have seen that both your career or school and love will be rocky, the intention here is for your transformation especially regarding your love. You are asked here to reevaluate your sense of self in regards to how you see yourself and really have to see how much capacity you have for loving yourself. Perhaps before this, you haven't truly loved yourself like yes you love yourself for parts but only the good parts. But you still reject the bad parts of you. Through this relationship, you are being challenged to accept yourself as a whole. No more rejecting the parts of you that you are dissatisfied with. You are asked to embody all parts of you and even if you feel dissatisfied with yourself, you are advised to accept yourself as a whole and also do something to enhance the part of you that you dislike. So in terms of physical appearances, you can go to beauty salons, do skincare, workout, makeup, choose good clothes. Anything that makes you feel more beautiful. So you'll be transformed both in physical and inner lives. At the end, you will feel fulfilled as throughout these challenges, you are able to transform yourself through problems that occur in your school, work, and relationship which lead you to a better version of yourself. Check your natal chart to see if in 5 years from now, Pluto will form an aspect to your inner placements (Sun, Moon, Rising, Mercury, Venus, or Mars) or it will be in angular houses (1st, 4th, 7th, or 10th) or 8th house. You should check if your Saturn also forms aspects to your inner placements or in angular houses. This will give more explanations on how you cope with that. For example if you have Aquarius Venus, in five years Pluto may have conjunct your Venus which means both of your love life and career will be transformative for you and although it's painful, it'll make you reevaluate how you approach those fields and thus push you to make changes.

2. WANING MOON

In 5 years, your school or career will be amazing. If you are still at school, you're going to get so many achievements or recognitions. Say you join many competitions that make you achieve trophies, certificates, or even money. You are going to collect those accolades and even may have your own dedicated space to put all those trophies or certificates in. So when you go to that space, you'll remember these are what you have gained. Clearly you are going to parade on your achievements by looking at those accolades and making them in the closest position possible to you. Those accolades will be tied so much to you. Wherever you go, people will recognize you. Ohhh this is a student who won that competition or this is a student who got many honors. Your identity will be tied so much to your achievements. If you're working, similar things will happen to you. That you are going to get many recognitions like the best worker or someone who initiates the pivotal change to the company or place where you work

Continue read:

3. NEW MOON IN TAURUS

Things in 5 years are looking good for you. In regards to school or career, you'll get your dream. The thing is in order for you to get this dream about school or career, this dream relies so much on a woman. If you are a woman, then it means whether you achieve your dream or not depends on you. But if you are a man or other genders, whether you achieve your dream or not depends on your mom or other female figure in your family.

Continue read here:

PSA: For some reasons, Tumblr doesn't let me post a long read. Which is why I make a link to redirect to the rest of the readings. Hopefully you don't mind❤

#pick a card reading #witchblr #tarot reading #lenormand #oracle #tarot #free reading #free tarot reading #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #intuitive reading #free intuitive reading #divination community #divination #pick a card

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captainkurosolaire · 3 years

Note

I challenge you to pick five Tumblrs in your social circle and tell them something you admire about their blog!

Only 5? I could probably do 500. However, that's determined by what's considered my social circle. I'm often in my head being incredibly social continuously is really a challenge of mine. I'm always actively marching to something, my flame of passion when I have it, I can do some crazy stuff but it diminishes relatively quickly, so I try to cling. But I'll up your thing and list 25 of my fave people. Ask me this same thing in a Month, I'll keep doing 25, until I do all the people. How about that? (If anyone wants to be taken off mention let me know.)

@eligos-venator

- Has one of the most intelligent and sophisticated minds, I've had the pleasure to know. Literally admire all his aesthetics, work, head-cannons, ideas. It's only a benefit that the dude shares some OC characteristics to my own (Winning features). I really enjoyed the short-thread we did. It was incomplete, mainly because of my faults. I want to actually be better to give him a proper delivery and RP worth his time, but he's incredibly worth the investment of eyes.

@mischiefandmystics

- If there was a Mount Rushmoore of writers who kept me in this endeavor, encouraged me. Sun'ra is one of them. His characterization skills, writing, the delivery and how believable his character is, they're masterful acts.

@mishivymendi

- I wouldn't be nearly tamed or as creatively freed if it wasn't for this gem. She broke my shell, I really didn't at a time ever see myself being anything really beyond a smut writer, but Mishi not only saw potential in me, but brought it out. Her stories and world's she brings to life are so majestically colorful.

@asymphonyofash

- My go-to. He's another pillar individual who saw things in me past just the obvious perception, (Probably second longest XIV RPer I know.) Taught me a lot of the lore, I shot him up and he's sort of become my stapled rock. He's right aside Sun'ra met them about the same, both took me under their wing's as I quietly observed and absorbed.

@lavender-hemlock

- We're always up and front with each other, never feeling like I couldn't say anything around, extremely rare to share that these days. Her gif's are legendary, something on my own terms I want to soar in quality. The writing she does is astounding. Character has so many mysterious pages that are quite addictive to want to explore and learn them. (Encore 20 below-cut)

@under-the-blood-moonlight - Her sweetness and artwork and overall is just a friendly presence to be around. I cherish them so much. One I can jive with more darker undertones with. She's one the most hardworking and ambitiously creative people. I'd mail them infinite hugs if could. Thanks for being you! @roxinova - I owe a lot of credit to her. She's constantly OOC and everything was nudging me too be more inclusive to things and involved heavenly. It's rare for me. I'm really horrible about that my autism sets me back socially, I constantly will be drowned by the next day and be reverted back to better off alone, that's my major crux and weakness. But her thoughtfulness, these things, aren't ever foreign to me, I do pay attention probably better than any would ever give me credit. She's a beacon model to have as a friend. @corpse-dancer - Haven't ran into many words with them, but her character, screenshot game, expressiveness, they're all a marvel to constantly see, alongside her attitude and bringing life character. I do think if I were better, we would click quite splendidly. They've recently reminded and motivated me to pick-up my daily-practice, or try too. Keep being a rockstar. @fair-fae - Few who wouldn't know who she is in this community. She's been in my opinion a huge core. I'm certain she's inspired many who weren't even RPers too try it by seeing her at the Quicksands or elsewhere, a tyme ago. Making no exception, I was even one of those. I used to be in QS every-single day and was often doing my shameless stuff. Though her presence first did show me there's a lot more. I admire her in all fields. Also appreciate her adopting me to the FC and her always thinking of others and giving events, or her aesthetics and portrayal, its the epitome of swan elegance. @thorcat - One of my most treasured friends. Been RPing with them for a longtime. There's never anything complicated between us or a rift of drama, it's just let's go and have fun. We really mesh well, I've welcomed nearly ever character and got the privilege to RP with nearly all them. They always open up envelope and help me, settle on back and just laugh. Whether used to be waking up to their characters humping my afk one or use randomly having a hardcore banter between Ufah and Captain and capturing them as a voidal pet. Memories with them isn't something I'd ever want to lose. I love ya! Never stop enjoying life for anything. @lukawarrioroflight - I get in the gutter find myself lacking motivation or writing, discouraged even... But I never have felt, I could ever do any wrong with this person, they bring the light out of me. So no matter what, how many hospital-beds I yearly visit, it's because of this rare nature, that I come back, even if they're the only one's ever to read my stuff. I would do it for them alone. @scholarlybreadbun - I've only been back recently and they've so much warmth. Their presence is the sun of inviting. The couple and posing all the shipping that stuff makes me even melt. I'm not particularly talented in regards to posing couples, but I took notice of them along time ago and set on quietly improving. Really like them for them, wouldn't ever want them to change that. Ideally look forward to be in their orbit longer so I can bask in them. @seascrapes - Been mutual with them for a while. Their aesthetics and character is all S+ level. I appreciate throwing back tagged prompts with them, one of many people I really think would be enjoyable to collab with any other seafarers. The artwork and pieces of Tal Brook, are breathtaking as ever exceptionally too, not to mention. Love your stuff matey, you're a king. @mai-takeda - Is a myth. Her absolutely sheer friendliness and her attitude, are so positive influencing, I was so thrilled to be welcomed with her and boosted by them early on. I couldn't see myself, wanting to exist where they didn't have happiness like the same she always delivers by just doing so many soft-things. Not to mention her writing... She's a whole world to throw yourself gazes

under. @zhauric - It doesn't go far either without the same breath of Mai, I could say about Zhauric. He's someone worthy to look-up and also recognize they're passionate and inviting, hoisting up literally everything. Could easily find any of their characters comrades with my own, or jiving alongside. Not to mention last XIVWrite, they slaughtered it. So enjoyable to read them all. I like how organized their blog is too, motivated me recently to redux my entire thing. @cadrenebula - They have so many diverse characters and their entire roster is vibrant and is imbued with a massive flux of life. They are able to encapsulate so many character's voices and portray them so effectively too, I really admire that greatly. They've made me think bigger and try myself recently at actually undertaking a huge roster of characters too. I've taken many breaks, but I always am so graciously returned often with them close-by and that's so incredibly sacred. I've seen a lot of people get discouraged or quit, leave, departure, etc. But they always seem to have a bigger house then they had last I took a break and I enjoy peaking in. @silvernsteel - Her artist and gif-work are awe-aspiring, there's little unrecognizable by her photo-sets and edits. They helped me even tip-toe into uncharted with giving me the recipes to try incorporating gifs into my arsenal. Plus so delightfully pleasant to actually talk with and just chill. I want nothing less in life, than the beauty they give, to be returned to them for eternity in all their glorious air. If ever needed anything of me, they've got me. @spotofmummery - We talk about passion or friendliness or overall a person to even remotely try to be, I got to include them. Their web-series and writing, screen-work, everything they do is fantastic. And that's furthered back nearly any I've met showcase or immortalize how just genuine of stellar person they are. I wish them always the energy to create and sparks. @snow-covered-moon - They've never been anything less but absolutely a diamond to know. I enjoy their character, their almost always abundant of energy that's very rub inducing. Their WoL character stories, writing, screen-shots, everyday they open up a new pandora box of joy, there's no mistaken love behind their character and that's infectiously easy to also enjoy something when the author does too. Always healthy to be around, I never feel short of vitality when they're close-by. @letheofthelost - Always cheerful or least encapsulates with me, they're a carnival ride. Just pure epic story-telling and engaging equally as passionate, constantly writing characters, not looking for anything outside of RP or anything really just being their selves, they fade all others. I love their presence, them as a person. Enjoy any character they'll ever come and throw under me, or a change of pace. Always feels easily understandable between one another. @crow-iv - Together we're an unfiltered, unstoppable wake of pure passionate writers and art. But I would say they're far ahead of me, in every regard. Already able to portray multiple characters in a scene and do such in-depth thinking, alongside even sketch or draw right afterwards or a scene. They're so talented, huge reason I set-out on giving them a Crew of cast and actual stories to-tell when I'm actually caught up and if they interested and we both have the room, I really think if further myself, I can be better and supply more for them to draw and I want to see them soar. I want to give them all my improvements and effectiveness. @trishelle - They've such a reinforcing personality and aura around them that easily bolsters anything that dares thinking they're about to be depleted so energizing. Aesthetics, characters, all them are so lively that further compliment their own mun's great welcoming presence. Worth hundreds of smiles and stars, keep high. Wish I had more time to dedicate to learning you! But I do notice and appreciate you. @fracturedfantasia - One of my people, I like to retreat and just talk my full

head-cannons with or learn, share insightful and inquisitive thoughts about philosophies and multi-culture things. Or plotting and in-general, they're a well of information and brimming ideas, they are every making of what makes a quality friend. When you can generally be open-about-all that's a real one right there. Their characters and tarot readings, I always would implore if they're offering. Thanks for giving me any-time. You're truly a treasure. @violet-warder - Never have even came to words with them yet unfortunately but didn't mean as a mutual, I haven't admired all their screenies, writing, or the aesthetics they bring of their character. Glamours is real end-game, I like all what you've done and put together. I care strictly about what represent and give, I don't want to see them ever think anyone want's them gone, they are abundantly so talented and possess things only they can deliver. I think recently came back too, and I'm glad to share, hopefully, overtime I can build you better up. Or eventually even talk, but I'm certain you are a busy-body person too, so we're relatable. @layla-grey - I have a lot of underline issues that set me back as a flawed person, but I've never not been anything but someone who's open, it's why I always do include my f-list in anything or etc. I'm not here to present this facade, and really don't care to be an image crafted by another. No one as of recently or now, am I close with as an RP partner or friend with then this stunning masterpiece. I never let-up on story-telling or anything so I can eventually use my Crew or other Characters, to give them anytime a master entertaining day, they push me to not be short-changed. IC and OOC I would devote my full attention too cause they've never shed from me. Didn't ever matter how much silence or anything, they're always around. And don't expect anything out of me or pressure. Just accept me and I equally share that sentiment, I want you to have everything in this world has to offer. ----- This is just a fraction of people, I've paid attention, noticed or know. I've been around in this Community for many years. There's a lot of things I could say about it, more probably then anyone else. But what matters to me, is recognizing the people who are here, that work hard, build others up, support, constantly are a beam. I don't need to interact with everyone, to know when someone is generally out for good. Or they're out for bad I've learned inquisitiveness longtime ago, I had to survive and remain afloat. I just go out and be me, and along the way, I get to find people like these, who help bring out the best me. I am nothing without these people, creators, writers, artist. I'm a terrible friend, horrible person, I don't have the energy to interact NEARLY with as much as I'd like with you all, If I could clone myself, or if things were different, I would drop it all to be in your orbits more if could. But, do know I appreciate you. And even if you ever do depart from this whole community or anything, know that anything you share, or give, that stuff does matter, somewhere, someone was aspired, if nothing else, by me. ONLY you can give the worlds you see and I am thankful. Do love yourself.

#I acknowledge you #Love you #Keep doing you #Asks answered #I'm the one guy who's never not going to be filtered or unspoken #To many people have left or been broken #Don't you ever think about it.#There's so many many more #But I'll recharge for next time

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bjy-on-ao3 · 3 years

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Kinktober 2021, Day 4

(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

This is another one that probably could have been longer, and I’m not 100% sure if it fits the prompt as planned. I’m hoping it’s still likable though, all things considered!

Summary Sometimes things don’t go quite as planned. When Reader’s plans to spend the day with Barbatos are interrupted, they try to get their way, even if it means getting in the way of work.

Tags/Warnings Blindfolds, Bondage. Creampie, Gags, Kinktober, Kinktober 2021, Oneshot, Prompt, Reader-Insert, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex

Kinktober 2021, 04: Brat Taming (Reader x Barbatos | Obey Me!)

You had gone to visit Barbatos that day expecting to spend some quality time with him, having finally arranged a day when he wasn’t swamped tending to the needs of the prince and the castle. Shortly after arriving, abuzz with excitement to finally have some alone time with him, Barbatos had received news that an impromptu celebration was being held the next evening - meaning whatever spare time he left to him was suddenly gone.

The news had made you cross to hear, knowing that Barbatos would be required in the kitchens on such short notice, though you had tried to hide your discomfort. To your credit, you thought you had done an admirable job when all a part of you really wanted to do was protest how unfair the latest arrangement was. But Barbatos was dutiful to a fault, and directly fussing over things would do little good.

Instead, you took the opposite route, and offered your help, thinking perhaps additional hands involved in the chore might lend it to be completed more swiftly. Unfortunately, you had vastly underestimated just how much work needed to be, as well as how much patience you had for it. The first couple hours of work had gone on well enough, but it seemed to be unending. You found yourself tiring of the tedious tasks, internally groaning at the work left before you still. Briefly, you wondered if the assignment was actually some curse neither of you was quite aware of, but you quickly dismissed the absurd thought.

You paused in the middle of stirring a bowl of ingredients, glancing out of the corner of your eyes to Barbatos busily plowing through each new culinary task, little phasing him. He was the picture of efficiency and focus, and the kitchen air was heavy with the various smells of seasonings and sweet flavorings, and citrus courtesy of his efforts. You watched him work as inconspicuously as possible for a moment, a new idea slowly coming to you. An idea that was far more alluring, though one admittedly much less productive than the task at hand.

Turning your attention half-heartedly to the bowl in front of you, returning to stirring, you finished it and pushed it aside. You searched for a proper excuse for the scheme you were hatching, finding it in a multitude of bottles and jars of ingredients for some of the next things on Barbatos’ long list of to-make recipes. Resuming the guise of a hard-working assistant eager to assist with the prepping and cooking, you moved to gather more ingredients and dishes, brushing purposefully close to Barbatos as you went by. You leaned forward to gather a bottle or two, reaching around him and feigning a hint of clumsiness that led to stray touches.

Lights taps and pats on his shoulders and arms played off as helping you balance. Strokes on his waist or hip, daring to creep a little lower. All manner of touches that seemed innocent enough. But you knew, or rather hoped, that it might distract Barbatos and broach his focus, and potentially lure him away from his chore. He remained just as unphased as before, though, hardly giving you a second look, save to courteously steady you or to make a polite quip to be a bit more careful.

After several unsuccessful attempts, you frowned at your lack of progress. Though you weren’t to be put off so easily and moved onto your next plan of action without lingering on the thought too long. You stood closer while you worked on your latest project, mashing an assortment of ingredients and fragrant herbs into a mortar beside Barbatos. Still grinding the contents, you subtly slipped your spare hand down, reaching more brazenly for Barbatos’ thigh. Your fingers brushed the cloth of his pants, creeping inward more slowly.

Barbatos cleared his throat pointed, his only acknowledgment of your attempt before he caught your hand by the wrist, pulling it gently away before you could properly feel him up as you had planned. You pouted again, further frustrated by his determination to ignore you. You still weren’t done yet, though. You tried the same thing, making the motion less obvious, more alike to an accidental slip. But even then, Barbatos dismissed your wandering hands, stopping only to speak for a moment, but not to address your meddling in the way you had hoped.

The look on his face was sterner than before, a hint of warning to stem your interruptions and focus. “Now isn’t the time. There’s far too much work to be done.”

You met his words and stern expression with a stare of your own, though one much more petulant. You silently huffed, fuming and pouting further, staring down into the muddled mass in the mortar. While you considered your options next, you went back to actively helping prepare batters and sauces, and icings. Barbatos moved away several times, pausing to place unbaked cakes and pastries into the large ovens or put assembled treats away to chill until the next day.

At some point, he returned to the counters with a platter of golden brown pastries assembled in an orderly pile. It was obviously one that had set for some time already, the tops of the stacks already topped with stiff peaks of colorful whipped frosting. As Barbatos turned away to resume work, a new scheme sprung into your head, prompted by the confections set out before you.

For much of the work before, Barbatos had only stopped to give you more than passing attention - or at least you had thought - to offer advice, or give you instructions. At last, though, he looked toward you, recognizing how you looked when you were truly onto some new plan. Barbatos had kept a careful amount of his attention dedicated to you, though you hadn’t yet realized.

He was good at feeling out when you had a mind to try and cause trouble or to grab his attention, whatever the situation. He had known as well that once you started, you weren’t going to give up easily, even if it meant acting rather childishly in your determination. He recognized the look on your face as you eyed the decorated pastries. When you glanced over, checking if he was paying you any mind, he knew you were about the act up again.

Sure enough, you set down your current tool, reaching your newly free hand in the direction of the pastries. The sharp, sudden mention of your name though made you flinch and halt with your arm outstretched.

“Haven’t you misbehaved enough for one evening?” Barbatos said evenly. The words had still startled you, even though you had been aware you had more of his attention than before.

Your nostrils flared, and you blew out an angry huff, recognizing the tone of Barbatos’ voice and debating your next move. Should you behave and drop it for the night? No, that wasn’t an option. You had to push your luck, challenge him. Your irritation demanded nothing less.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to misbehave if you’d pay me more attention in the first place,” you snapped back in defiance. You turned back to the pastries from before, thrusting a finger toward the large pile of frosting on the pastries’ peaks arranged in an ornate pattern.

“I know you understand those for tomorrow,” Barbatos continued, his voice still even, but more warning, accompanied by another commanding call of your name.

“Well, maybe I don’t want to keep waiting,” you snapped, though it was quite clear it wasn’t sweet treats you were being impatient about.

You looked at Barbatos markedly, turning and dipping your finger into the frosting and scooping out a section, ruining part of the decoration. Looking back, you raised the coated finger to your lips. His gloved hand caught your wrist again, more firmly than before, and when his eyes locked with yours, his glare was piercing and cool. You suppressed a shudder but refused to break or back down.

“That’s enough,” he declared sternly.

What he did next was in stark contrast to the tone of his voice. He didn’t release your hand immediately, instead tipping your frosting coated finger toward him and sucking it into his mouth. His tongue rolled hotly over your digit, cleaning the sticky, cloyingly sweet icing from it. Your brows shot up, and another shiver threatened to creep down your spine while you swallowed hard. You had gotten the attention you had so petulantly been trying to achieve from Barbatos, but at the same time, it had shattered your resolve.

That attention was lingering, though, a taste to quiet and rattle you.

“I think it’s time you retired for the night,” Barbatos decided after pulling your finger from his mouth and letting your wrist free, foregoing any more contact with you and leaving you wanting, stirred up from that one action alone. Yet, there was something mischievous, almost dangerous in his tone, something that rang familiar. “You will wait up for me. When I am done, we will discuss this. Have I made myself clear?”

You nodded meekly, your streak of mischief shaken and relegated to the back of your mind. “Yes,” you answered quietly. Your mouth felt dry, and a tenseness grew in you, something halfway between anticipation and uncertainty.

“Excuse me?” Barbatos questioned expectantly.

“Yes, sir, perfectly clear,” you added, his words prompting you to remember your ‘manners’.

“Good.”

Barbatos turned back to the counters, leaving no room for further dispute. You saw yourself out of the kitchens, calming your thumping heart down as you went. You flagged down a Little D, requesting aid to return to the guest room you normally stayed in when you came to visit Barbatos or stayed in the castle for any other occasion. You gave your thanks upon reaching the room, closing the door behind you and flopping onto the bed with a frustrated sigh.

You tried to preoccupy yourself for a while thereafter, browsing apps and messages on your DDD, answering friends, and checking in on the demon brothers. It could all only keep your attention for so long, though, and eventually, you drifted off to sleep from boredom with the device at your side. ---

You weren’t sure how long you had slept when the soft click of the bedroom door awoke you. You glanced blearily to the door, just able to make out Barbatos’ silhouette against the darkness of the room. Though the outline of him was difficult to see, he was hard to miss in other ways. As he approached the bed, the ominous glow of his eyes, casting his face in a sickly green pallor, was the most noticeable feature.

You jolted up on the bed, recalling Barbatos’ instructions to wait up for him. But it was too late - Barbatos had already seen you sprawled out asleep on the bed, disobeying him once more. Passingly, you noted you hadn’t been the one to turn the lights off in the bedroom.

The bed sank with Barbatos’ weight when he reached the foot of it. He poised himself over you on his hands and knees, and you instinctively sank back against the sheets. As he leaned down, something cool, thick, and scaly curled purposefully around one of your thighs, teasing slowly further.

“Misbehaving again, already? You’ve been very insolent today. I’ll need to give you a much more thorough lesson this time, won’t I?”

#kinktober #kinktober 2021 #shall we date? obey me!#obey me barbatos #fanfiction #writing #ao3 #barbatos

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superbadassnatural · 4 years

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A Lot to Make up For

Summary: Dean threw a fit when he saw something he didn’t like. To say you were angry with him was an understatement. The least thing he could do was make-up for his behavior. Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 4,647 Warnings: smut, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v, little bit of spanking, jealous!Dean, mentions of fwb relationship, a bit of crack? A/N: this was written for “SPN Bi-Weekly Challenge” hosted by the amazing @supernatural-jackles. There are three prompts in this one and they are all bolded. I’m trying to understand why tumblr flagged this post when I uploaded the gif I made, which is similar to this one, but not flagged it when I used someone else’s. Either way, at least one of them worked. Please, enjoy it!

(x)

When you decided to come to the bar, you didn’t expect it to be this crowded. Loud conversations competed with the sound of the electronic music. Somehow you managed to find an empty barstool and ran for it. You ordered a beer, sipping at it, unsure of what you were really doing here.

You needed a night out. It had been a while since you last went out by yourself. You usually hung out with the boys, but this time you didn’t want to. It’s not like you didn’t want to be around them, you just wanted to enjoy some quality time alone.

A man sat beside you. He seemed to be around your age and he was definitely a sight for sore eyes. The man turned to you, introduced himself, and started a small talk that turned into an interesting — and mostly funny — conversation.

Andrew was good to be around. He was a stranger, but he somehow knew how to make you laugh. He even bought you a couple of beers and fries.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get out of the bar and have your way with him between the sheets. Or maybe it was the way he was flirting with you that was making those thoughts run through your mind. You didn’t even notice he was that close to you. Your knees brushed each other under the wooden counter. His knuckles ran down your forearm. Every now and then his brown eyes would descend to your lips as you spoke. He wanted it as much as you did.

“You know, I was thinking...” he scooted closer, eyes leaving yours to dart to your painted lips. “Maybe we should-“

“Oh, there you are,” a familiar voice interrupted him.

Dean. He stepped towards you, a smile playing on his lips. Both you and Andrew frowned.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, sweetheart,” his hand made its way to your waist as he planted a kiss to the side of your head.

“Dean, what’re you doing here?” You asked, trying to pull away from his hold.

“I was worried sick, baby,” he said. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“I’m sorry,” Andrew stepped in just as confused as you. “Who are you?”

“I’m Dean, her boyfriend,” he beamed, holding out his hand, but Andrew didn’t take it. “Listen, thanks, man, for taking care of her. I’m glad you were keeping her company. Who knows what would happen if you weren’t here. Maybe some bastard would’ve tried to take advantage of her.”

“Her boyfriend?” The man was trying to wrap his mind around what Dean was saying.

“No!” You jumped it.

“Yeah,” he said at the same time as you did. “I don’t know why she’s saying I’m not.”

“Sorry, man,” he looked at you as if you were some lying bitch. “She told me she was single.”

“I am single! He’s my friend.”

“Well, I don’t know if she’s told you, but she suffers from short-term memory loss,” Dean pursed his lips.

What the hell is he talking about, you thought to yourself.

“You know, like Dory from Finding Nemo,” he added. “She probably forgot we were dating. She’s probably going to forget about you too so I suggest you go away. If she forgets you and sees you, she won’t understand a thing. It’ll only make her poor mind even more confused.”

“It must be hard to deal with that,” Andrew sighed, buying Dean’s crap. “Well, I’ll leave you guys be. Sorry about that, man.”

Andrew headed out of the bar. You were too dumbfounded by the whole situation to go after him and explain that your best friend was delusional. He probably wouldn’t believe it anyway. Dean burst into laughter.

“Are you out of your mind?” You nearly roared at him, slapping his hands off of you.

“Oh, you gotta admit that was funny,” he gushed between laughter.

“No, Dean, it wasn’t,” you glared at him. “It was ridiculous and extremely disrespectful. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home.”

You stormed out of the bar with Dean hot on your tail. Your blood was boiling. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just let you get some tonight? You stopped in front of your car and turned to him.

“Get lost, Winchester. I don’t want you near me tonight.”

“C’mon, sweetheart. I’m your best friend. I’m your favorite person in this whole world,” he bargained.

“Best friend?” You chuckled humorlessly. “Since when best friends do stuff like that? Seriously, Dean, that was low even for you. I don’t wanna see you tonight or tomorrow or for the rest of the week! Not even if you’re covered in gold.”

“Not even if I’m naked and covered in gold with your favorite chocolate?”

“No. Actually, the thought of you naked just made me throw up in my mouth a little.”

“Well, that wasn’t what you said a few days ago,” he had the cockiest grin playing on his lips. Maybe he thought he could charm his way and you would forgive him.

“Fuck you,” you sneered. “If you do so much as follow me, I’m gonna murder you!”

Hopping in your car, you turned the engine and headed home. Your hands gripped tight the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. You couldn’t for the life of you understand what had gotten into him. He’d never acted like that. He didn’t have the right to.

In about ten minutes you arrived at the condominium you live in. Parking in your spot, you let out a frustrated sigh before climbing off the car. You were glad he didn’t follow you. At least he had a little respect for you.

As you stepped foot into your apartment you rushed to the bathroom. A shower would do wonders for your tense muscles. Maybe it would even wash your anger away. You turned on the water and checked the temperature before hopping in. You relaxed immediately as the warm water hit your skin.

Although you felt more relaxed after showering, your mind was still on a thousand miles per hour. Dean had never behaved the way he did tonight. Throughout your eleven years of friendship, he had never disrespected you or crossed any boundaries. But tonight he did. Maybe he was angry because you decided to hit a bar and didn’t invite him. It doesn’t justify his behavior.

You’d be lying if you said you were just friends. Over a year ago, after many drinks you and Dean had sex. It was nice, but you barely remembered anything the following morning. So you did it sober. It might have been a dumb idea, but boy it felt good. Dean suggested you should keep doing that and you agreed. No strings attached. No exclusivity. Just two friends blowing off some steam every now and then.

What you have with Dean doesn’t give him the right to act the way he did. He’s not your boyfriend. Both of you agreed that it was okay to see other people and even have sex with them — always with protection. Aside from Dean, you only had sex with one person since you started to fool around. Now, when you finally got the chance to hang out with some guy, he decided to show up and throw a fit? Who does he think he is?

“Ah, screw him,” you mumbled.

Shifting into your ideal sleeping position, your body relaxed on the mattress. Thank God for memory foam. It didn’t take long for tiredness to take over and for you to drift off to sleep.

The unceasing sound of the doorbell ringing startled you. You stood to your feet abruptly, but soon regretted when you felt dizzy. Putting on your robe, you headed to the front door not even bothering to look through the peephole. It seemed to be some kind of emergency. No one would be ringing the doorbell this late if it wasn’t urgent. Unlocking the door, you opened it.

“Hey. How can I-“ you stopped once you met his green eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Y/N, I’m sorry-“

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” you hissed, trying to push the door close but his feet stopped you.

“I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t care. It’s fucking three in the morning. I have to get up early to go to work,” your hand gripped tight to the knob, ready to close the door in his face if he tried to come in. “I’m sorry, but not everyone works for their dad and can show up late everyday.”

“We both know tomorrow is your day off,” he said. “Please let me in. I need to talk to you. Then you can kick me out and go back to your beauty sleep.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, stepping aside for him to come in. “But only because I’m mad at you and I’m in the mood for a fight.”

“Can we fight so we can have angry make-up sex later?” A smirk appeared on his plump lips.

“Sex with you?” You snickered. “Never again.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he pleaded. “It’s been two weeks since we had some fun.”

“Did you come here so you could get laid? Did ou wake me up just so you could have sex with me? Really, Dean?”

“No, of course not. If I wanted to have sex with you, I would have texted you first,” he said. “I came here to apologize.”

“Oh, so you know you screwed up. Good.”

“Would you let me finish?” You rolled your eyes crossing your arms over your chest. “I came here to surprise you. I thought we could have a sleepover since you don’t have to go to work tomorrow. I even brought my Die Hard collection so we could watch it tonight. I bought two slices of pie on the way. Cherry for me and apple for you. Imagine my surprise when I open the door and there’s not a single light on.”

“So what? Are you telling me that it’s my fault now? I should have stayed home waiting for you?” You pointed your finger at him. “Is that the reason why you did what you did at the bar?”

“I looked for you everywhere. Then Jess told me you went out for a drink at Hardy’s. So I went after you. When I saw that guy with his hands all over you, I flipped. I knew I couldn’t punch him and start a fight so I did that.”

“You know you’re not my boyfriend, right? Or my father for that matter?” You stepped closer to him. “So why did you have to ruin things for me tonight? I’ve never done anything like that to you. Never! Why did you have to be such an idiot?”

“I was jealous, okay?” He growled.

“It still doesn’t give you the right to do that, Dean,” you yelled at him. “You know, Dean, every time you, Sam, and I go to a bar, you leave us on the table to hit on the bartender. I wouldn’t have a problem with that if your brother was single. Don’t get me wrong, I love Jess, but if Sam was single then he’d hit on someone and I’d be free to do that too. Or even better, I could make out with him!” You exclaimed, knowing it would piss him off. “Oh, Jess told me some things that you probably don’t wanna know, but they were really interesting. In case you don’t know, girls talk about sex too. From what she’s told me, I bet he’s better than you. I mean, he’s definitely bigger so-“

“Shut up!” He yelled. You could see his jaw tightening as the veins in his neck throbbed.

“You know what’s even worse? When Jess comes with us, I’m third-wheeling most of the time. For some reason, they won’t let me get two feet away from them.”

“I hit on the bartenders to make you jealous. It’s all fake,” he nearly barked. “I thought that maybe if I did that I’d get a reaction from you because I’m too much of a coward to do the right thing.”

“You do remember our agreement, right? Just sex. No feelings. We are non-exclusive. We can see other people and even have sex. We made a bunch of rules back in that day. One of them was no cockblocking,” your blood was boiling in your veins. You could feel your anger grow with every word you said.

“I’m sorry, okay? But I couldn’t just stand there and watch that son of a bitch getting all handsy.”

“While you were having fun with bartenders and girls you met every time we went out, I was alone. Since we started this, I’ve only had sex with one person and it was-“

“Terrible. I know you said the guy was awful.”

“It’s not that I think I should be having sex with half of the men in town, but if you can have sex with everyone you want then why can’t I? Every time I try to hang out with someone, I get sabotaged.”

“Ever since we started this, I’ve only had sex with you. I tried to be with someone else but it didn’t work because she wasn’t you.”

“Oh my God, it was you!” Reality downed to you as you ignored him. The sound of your raged heart much louder than his voice. “You sabotaged me every time! The broken lock, flat tires, and all that crap that happened every time I got close to a guy. They were all you.”

“Yeah, it was me,” Dean barked. “You deserve better than those guys.”

“Who gave you the right to do that, you idiot? Why did you have to do that?”

“Because I love you dammit!” His voice was much louder, causing you to flinch.

“Well, maybe that’s the problem!” You yelled back at him.

You spun around completely done with him, your head was pounding in your skull. The last thing you saw before storming out of the apartment was his jaw wiring shut as his eyes filled with rage.

The door slammed with a loud thud, startling Dean. He was pulled out of his angry trance when he noticed he was standing alone in the middle of your apartment. He knew he had screwed up big time. He’d not planned on confessing his feelings to you tonight. Especially not like this.

You stood dumbstruck in the hall just outside your door. Everything happened so fast. One minute you were peacefully asleep, the other you and Dean were almost jumping at each other’s throats. He shouldn’t have said he loves you. And you shouldn’t have stormed out the way you did.

“God, what have I done?” you sighed.

The sound of the door opening and closing echoed through the corridor. You didn’t want to turn around. You couldn’t face him.

“You realize you just stormed out of your apartment, right?” He let out a small chuckle to try to light up the mood.

“You see what you do to me?” You turned around to face him. His green eyes held anything but anger. “You make me so mad that I do stupid things like storming out of my own home when I should’ve kicked you out.”

“Hey, you don’t need me to do stupid things. You can do that on your own,” he held his hands up, a cheeky grin playing on his lips. “Now let’s get inside, shall we?”

You only nodded, following him back inside.

“So what do we do now, huh?” He asked, shutting the door.

“You don’t love me. I mean- you do, but as your best friend.”

“No, Y/N, I love you as more than my best friend.”

“Stop,” you argued. “You can’t, okay? Or you’re gonna ruin everything.”

“Ruin what? We both know this is not a friends with benefits shit. It never was.”

“Dean-“

“This is not one-sided and you know it, Y/N,” he said, voice deeper than usual. “What we did… what we do is not just sex. Or do I have to tell you how many times we actually made love?”

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice wavered.

“Because I love you, Y/N.”

“Then don’t. You’re screwing things up.”

“Why can’t you just admit it? Why is it so hard for you to finally say it?”

“I can’t risk losing you,” you said low enough that he almost didn’t hear you. Almost. “The moment we take that step there’s no going back and I can’t risk losing you. I can’t.”

“You’re not gonna lose me,” he placed his hands on both sides of your hips, his body incredibly close to yours.

“You can’t promise me that.”

“You’re right. I can’t, but I’ll do anything to be with you.”

Fingers curling in the collar of his flannel, you pulled him to you, capturing his lips with yours. Your heart skipped a beat as he returned the kiss. It was slow at first, almost uncertain. The soft press of his lips made you melt into his touch. Your tongue caressed his plump lips in a plea for him to allow you to delve into his mouth. A muffled moan escaped his lips as his hands came up to cup your face, thumb circling your cheek.

You pulled away in need of air. Your eyes were still closed as you rested your forehead against his.

“I don’t know about you but I’m still down for some angry make-up sex,” he said between panted breaths.

“Dean-“

“Stop denying what you want, Y/N.”

Swallowing thick, you opened your eyes only to meet his green orbs hooded with lust. With arms around his neck, you wrapped your legs around his waist, lips colliding with his. Warm hands held you by the back of your thighs as he walked towards your bedroom. He pushed you against the wall, placing you back on the floor. His lips graced the skin of your neck with sweet yet hungry kisses. Your body was pressed flush to him. You could feel his heart beating fast against your chest and his growing bulge against your pelvis. A moan left your lips as one of his hands hiked up your leg and squeezed your thigh over the silky robe. Dean pressed himself to you and you bucked your hips, the feeling of his erection against your soaked pussy setting your body on fire.

Hurried hands fumbled with the knot tying your robe. He pushed it off your shoulders, revealing your naked before him, the soft material pooling around your feet.

“Fuck,” he said in a low grunt as his eyes wandered over your bare chest.

A smile spread on your lips. Always the same reaction from him. You unbuttoned his flannel, dropping it to the floor. As Dean yanked his white shirt over his head, your hands reached for his naked torso, traveling down to his abdomen and stopping over his belt, quickly unbuckling it. He pulled down his pants, standing in front of you only in his boxers. You pushed him towards the bed, straddling his hips as he sat. Hungry lips captured his plump, pink ones, his hands snaked to your back. The soft touch of his fingertips sending shivers down your spine.

“Need you,” a breathy moan escaped your lips.

Dean’s back met the softness of the mattress, green eyes sparkling at the sight of you on top of him. You leaned and his hands reached for your breasts. Fingers nipped at your hardened bud as his mouth enveloped the other. His name escaped your lips in a tiny whimper as you rolled your hips against him. He released your nipple with a pop and planted kisses everywhere he could touch.

You pushed down his boxers, revealing his hard cock in all its glory. Your small hand wrapped around his length, stroking it before circling the head with your thumb.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he hissed. “Want you. I need to taste you. Come up here.”

You crawled up, knees around his broad shoulders. As your hands met the headboard, he lowered your body to his face. Dean wanted to take his time. He peppered open-mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs. He ran his nose over your folds and you let out a frustrated moan.

“Stop teasing.”

“Tell me what you need, sweetheart,” although you didn’t see it, you felt his lips curl into a smirk.

“I need to cum.”

Three teasing licks from your slit to clit caused your breath to hitch on your throat. He wanted to drive you insane and he definitely knew how to do it. Dean licked and sucked your most sensitive parts. Parts he knew by heart. His tongue entered your channel and you saw stars. Fingers finding their course to his hair, gripping it to the point of pain. A guttural grunt from him made your whole body shudder. You tried to buck your hips against his sinful mouth, but his strong grip on your hips restrained your movements. He kept pushing his tongue as far as he could, tasting your sweetness as he feasted. Muffled moans and husky hums escaped his lips, reverberating through your soaked folds. He enjoyed this as much as you did.

“Hmm, yes,” you moaned.

When you felt his grasp on you loosen, you rolled your hips. All your self-consciousness fading as the need to come grew stronger. Your hands dropped to the mattress, ass angling up. His tongue started to circulate your clit, sending small shivers through your body. You glanced over your shoulder, eyes landing on his hand stroking his cock slowly. Your cunt clenched around nothing. His teeth grazed over your bundle of nerves, nipping slightly. The burning coil in your abdomen tightened. Dean sealed his lips around your clit and you went off as a rocket. Your legs trembled around his head as he kept sucking. Waves of pleasure washed over you.

“Fuck, Dean,” you yelled out his name along with a bunch of obscenities.

Dean moaned as he lapped at your juices. He licked you clean until you rode out your orgasm. He kissed your sensitive clit before helping you scooting down so you could meet his face.

“Hi,” you smiled as you laid on top of him.

“Hey,” his plump lips were shining with your release, his cheeks a bright pink.

You leaned to capture his lips. A moan was muffled by his mouth as you tasted yourself in his tongue. The kiss didn’t last though. Both of you were in some serious need of air to make it last.

“I bet the neighbors know my name,” he beamed with the cockiest smirk.

“Oh, shut up,” with a roll of eyes, you started to plant open-mouthed kisses down his throat.

“You know they do. Especially after tonight. The way you-“ he stopped as you sucked at a sensitive spot on the side of his neck. “Shit, Y/N. Need to be inside you.”

He flipped you onto your back, laying on top of you. His lips attacked yours in a hungry, bruising kiss. Your hand reached for his cock, positioning it at your entrance.

“No, not like this. I have other things in mind,” he said with a crooked grin. “On all fours, sweetheart.”

Dean pulled away and you did as told. Your ass perked up and his warm hands gripped your hips. He squeezed your skin and you groaned in anticipation. The tip of his cock circled your entrance.

“Please,” a sweet little cry escaped your lips.

You whimpered as he pushed inside you ever so slow. His massive size stretching your walls to fit him. Dean groaned. He slid out almost completely before thrusting into you with such force that you gasped.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunted. “You feel so good. So tight.”

His blunt fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips as he pounded into you relentlessly. Sweat broke through your body as your breath started to come in short spurts. His hand collided with your right cheek, causing your body to jerk. Then he did the same to the other one and you hissed. Dean leaned against you, kissing your shoulder blade.

“You like this, don’t you?” His voice barely upon a whisper, hot breath fanning at your clammy skin. “You like it when I take you just… like… this?” His thrusts matched his words, sending you over the edge once again.

“Yes!”

His hand smacked harder at your right cheek as he pulled away. That definitely was going to leave a mark. Your skin tingling at the stingy sensation. He slammed in and out of you like a madman. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room along with shameless cries and husky grunts. The heat in your core started to grow even more. You fell forward into the mattress, fingers curling the sheets. Your walls pulsated around him as your orgasm hit you abruptly. Dean sent another five deep-seated thrusts and had you screaming into the pillow in pure ecstasy.

You were so lost in the feeling that you didn’t notice Dean flipping you into your back. He leaned down nuzzling into your neck, before sliding back into you. He kept driving in and out of you, his breath erratic. Your hands slapped against his back, nails digging into his skin, heels digging into his ass. You needed as much of him as you could get.

“Come with me, sweetheart,” he nearly pleaded as he pulled away from your neck.

His hips pistoned against yours, sloppy thrusts aiming for the final push. The thumps of the headboard banging against the wall mixed with the sound of his balls slapping against your ass. Dean delivered three deep thrusts before his body stiffened. He held himself there as he painted your walls white with his seed. Your orgasm rippled through you. You clenched around him so tight, milking his cock for all its worth. His green orbs locked in your lust blown eyes as his lips parted in a perfect “o” shape, mirroring your expression, though no sound came from any of you. Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes as pleasure washed through you.

Dean collapsed on top of you, his head nuzzling in the curve of your neck. He placed a kiss to your skin before rolling to his side. Both of you waited for your breaths to even. Only then, when the room had grown quiet, you noticed the orange glow in the room caused by the strays of sunshine that managed to get past the blinds.

“Hot damn,” he let out a content sigh.

“What we did tonight… it should be illegal,” you half-chuckled.

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” he had a stupid grin on his face the whole time.

“Don’t sweetheart me,” you pouted. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Really? C’mon! I thought I had made myself up to you by making you come three times. Wasn’t that enough?”

“Of course not! You cockblocked me. Who knows how many times I would’ve cum if I was with that guy,” you shrugged.

“None. Plus, he doesn’t love you so it wouldn’t be nearly as exciting as this was.”

“You still need to make yourself up to me. ’Sides, you didn’t even tie the record, Dean. I’ve made myself come more times using just my fingers and a couple of toys.”

“Is that a challenge, sweetheart?”

“Only if you wanted it to be,” you smirked.

Dean rolled over you, his hand making its way to cup your mound. “I bet you still have my cum dripping from this tight pussy.”

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

I’d love to know what you think of this one! Please, consider sharing your thoughts with me via reply, reblog or ask!

Dean Sweethearts:

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