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#I'd have issues holding it with one hand
gnirewolf · 1 month
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oh yeah, found these gallon water bottles today. entirely too big...
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letter to his father - franz kafka // origin story, sink - desiree dallagiacomo // the autobiography of my mother - jamaica kincaid // caged: memoirs of a cage-fighting poet - cameron conaway
#you know you're in trouble when the painting of saturn devouring his son by francisco de goya almost makes it on here 🤡#like minds#murderous intent#like minds 2006#alex forbes#sad to admit i have been neglecting my (other) boy in my content lately#most of the time alex only really features in posts that are about him and nigel together#and if every there was a subject i'd be making a post about for alex it would ofc be about him and his daddy issues#i think it's because strangely enough nigel is easier to get a handle on in terms of character introspection#but that's probably down to the fact that regardless of whether you believe the narrative alex gives about who nigel was#we at least DO get a more solidly constructed idea of his character (yes even if it is the version of him put forth by alex#designed to paint himself as the victim)#alex on the other hand? gohd damn walking rorschach pattern ink blot test of a character#like *holding him up by the scruff of his neck* what does this character look like#you could have interpretations for this guy out the wazoo and it'll probably be wildly different from the person standing next to you#but one think i can say with certainty is this guy has a complicated relationship with his father#i don't think he hates him. but i do think there's a lot of resentment there too#that quote from ladybird where she asks her mother if she likes her and the mother says of course she loves her#and ladybird asks but do you like me? and the mother just responds that she wants whats best for her#to which ladybird says what if this is the best version of me#or something#that's them#to me at least#i suppose that's why alex was as drawn to nigel as he was#yes nigel was also spouting on about predetermined destinies foretold by fate and whatnot#but the fundamental difference is that nigel leaves all the power to achieve that in alex's hands#the only thing he ever really asks of him is for alex to embrace his inner most desires. no matter how dark or twisted they may be#alex's father is there telling him that a better version of himself exists if only alex could live up to expectations#nigel is there telling him that a better version of himself exists if only alex could forgo expectations of himself entirely#if that makes sense 🤡
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lunarlegend · 1 year
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endusviolence · 2 months
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Rowling isn't denying holocaust. She just pointed out that burning of transgender health books is a lie as that form of cosmetic surgery didn't exist. But of course you knew that already, didn't you?
I was thinking I'd probably see one of you! You're wrong :) Let's review the history a bit, shall we?
In this case, what we're talking about is the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or in English, The Institute of Sexology. This Institute was founded and headed by a gay Jewish sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld. It was founded in July of 1919 as the first sexology research clinic in the world, and was run as a private, non-profit clinic. Hirschfeld and the researchers who worked there would give out consultations, medical advice, and even treatments for free to their poorer clientele, as well as give thousands of lectures and build a unique library full of books on gender, sexuality, and eroticism. Of course, being a gay man, Hirschfeld focused a lot on the gay community and proving that homosexuality was natural and could not be "cured".
Hirschfeld was unique in his time because he believed that nobody's gender was either one or the other. Rather, he contended that everyone is a mixture of both male and female, with every individual having their own unique mix of traits.
This leads into the Institute's work with transgender patients. Hirschfeld was actually the one to coin the term "transsexual" in 1923, though this word didn't become popular phrasing until 30 years later when Harry Benjamin began expanding his research (I'll just be shortening it to trans for this brief overview.) For the Institute, their revolutionary work with gay men eventually began to attract other members of the LGBTA+, including of course trans people.
Contrary to what Anon says, sex reassignment surgery was first tested in 1912. It'd already being used on humans throughout Europe during the 1920's by the time a doctor at the Institute named Ludwig Levy-Lenz began performing it on patients in 1931. Hirschfeld was at first opposed, but he came around quickly because it lowered the rate of suicide among their trans patients. Not only was reassignment performed at the Institute, but both facial feminization and facial masculization surgery were also done.
The Institute employed some of these patients, gave them therapy to help with other issues, even gave some of the mentioned surgeries for free to this who could not afford it! They spoke out on their behalf to the public, even getting Berlin police to help them create "transvestite passes" to allow people to dress however they wanted without the threat of being arrested. They worked together to fight the law, including trying to strike down Paragraph 175, which made it illegal to be homosexual. The picture below is from their holiday party, Magnus Hirschfeld being the gentleman on the right with the fabulous mustache. Many of the other people in this photo are transgender.
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[Image ID: A black and white photo of a group of people. Some are smiling at the camera, others have serious expressions. Either way, they all seem to be happy. On the right side, an older gentleman in glasses- Magnus Hirschfeld- is sitting. He has short hair and a bushy mustache. He is resting one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. His other hand is being held by a person to his left. Another person to his right is holding his shoulder.]
There was always push back against the Institute, especially from conservatives who saw all of this as a bad thing. But conservatism can't stop progress without destroying it. They weren't willing to go that far for a good while. It all ended in March of 1933, when a new Chancellor was elected. The Nazis did not like homosexuals for several reasons. Chief among them, we break the boundaries of "normal" society. Shortly after the election, on May 6th, the book burnings began. The Jewish, gay, and obviously liberal Magnus Hirschfeld and his library of boundary-breaking literature was one of the very first targets. Thankfully, Hirschfeld was spared by virtue of being in Paris at the time (he would die in 1935, before the Nazis were able to invade France). His library wasn't so lucky.
This famous picture of the book burnings was taken after the Institute of Sexology had been raided. That's their books. Literature on so much about sexuality, eroticism, and gender, yes including their new work on trans people. This is the trans community's Alexandria. We're incredibly lucky that enough of it survived for Harry Benjamin and everyone who came after him was able to build on the Institute's work.
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[Image ID: A black and white photo of the May Nazi book burning of the Institute of Sexology's library. A soldier, back facing the camera, is throwing a stack of books into the fire. In the background of the right side, a crowd is watching.]
As the Holocaust went on, the homosexuals of Germany became a targeted group. This did include transgender people, no matter what you say. To deny this reality is Holocaust denial. JK Rowling and everyone else who tries to pretend like this isn't reality is participating in that evil. You're agreeing with the Nazis.
But of course, you knew that already, didn't you?
Edit: Added image IDs. I apologize to those using screen readers for forgetting them. Please reblog this version instead.
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wanders-in-wonderland · 5 months
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Treatment Plan
Last night was supposed to be harmless New Year’s Eve fun, partying with friends, dancing with strangers, and maybe finding someone to ring in the new year with. I remember dancing and taking shots with a really hot guy at some club where we'd shared a new year kiss. There's nothing else in my memory and I don’t remember when I passed out but I wake up alone in a medical examination room, naked, gagged, and strapped down to a bed with my arms above my head and legs spread wide.
The door opens and four men walk in. The first one I recognize is the hot guy I'd made out with. Except now, he has the look of a doctor, dressed in a white coat, wearing a stethoscope and holding a clipboard. The other three men are wearing nurses scrubs and not a single one acknowledges me as they step into the room and close the door behind them.
The doctor glances down at his clipboard and looks at me, smirking slightly. “It says here you’ve been admitted due to your issues with obedience and self-control. I promise we deliver the best results here, so you, darling, will be in tip-top shape in no time,” his voice is tinged with mockery and I try to shake my head and explain that this is all a mistake, that I have no idea what is going on, and I’m not supposed to be here.
“Day one of this treatment regimen helps us establish a baseline of what we’re working with and involves some sensory deprivation just to enhance the effectiveness but I promise, you’ll enjoy it,” he purrs, coming to stand next to my head before sliding a piece of fabric over my eyes. I struggle uselessly against the bindings, trying to dislodge the blindfold but it’s too secure to move. I feel hands hold my head in place before someone else slides headphones over my ears and suddenly, I’m blind and deaf to the world.
There is nothing to prepare me for what comes next, and no way that I can have any ability to sense what they plan to do to me. I can feel tears pricking at my eyes, absorbing into the blindfold when suddenly, I feel fingers trail along my ribs.
I let out a muted whimper, my body instinctively lurching in response. The feeling is so overwhelming and I’m absolutely senseless and helpless. The fingers linger around my hips and dig in gently, making me jerk uselessly in my bindings. It’s almost too much for my body to handle, the unknown touches, the horrible anticipation and suspense of not knowing anything at all.
Without warning, the fingers dig harder into my ribs, tickling me harshly and mercilessly. I wail behind the gag and thrash desperately, begging for it to stop to no avail. The fingers don’t let up and my entire world has narrowed to the unbearable sensations those fingers are drawing out of my bound body. There’s nothing I can do except endure it.
My wails have died down to little mindless whimpers as the tickling continues to ravage my ribs and hips when I feel the fingers pull away finally. I gasp for air, hoping that this torture is finally going to be over. Suddenly, I feel fingers brush against my underarms and I scream so hard my throat feels raw. I’m yanking and pulling at the straps holding me down but I’m bound too tightly. Tears are flowing freely into the blindfold as my body jerks. The fingers dig devastatingly into my underarms and I’m inconsolable. The tickling feels like electricity going straight into my nerves and it makes my mind hazy.
There’s no mercy and no stopping. The fingers find every vulnerable spot on my body and there’s nothing to stop the wretched tickling that’s making me want to curl into myself and disappear. There’s no acclimation to the feeling or becoming desensitized to it all. Every single movement feels like my body is dancing on a live wire and I have no choice but to experience every devastating feeling.
Another set of fingers finds their way to my hard nipples and I can barely draw in enough air to scream as the stimulation adds to the overwhelming feelings crashing through my body. Flicks against my nipples make me squirm and moan.
Then, my world lights up behind my blindfold when I feel fingers on my clit.
The combination of tickling at every sensitive spot on my body and the focus on my clit shatters me. Every single nerve is pulled open and vulnerable to unforgiving, relentless stimulation and I know I’m dripping wet onto the bed under me. It’s all too much for my brain to process. Every force on my body pushes me closer and closer to an orgasm and it’s unbearable.
A sudden flash of pain hits my clit as someone’s fingers sharply pinch my throbbing button and I wail as my orgasm barrels through my body. None of the stimulation lets up and the fingers on my clit continue to force waves of pleasure through my body while fingers everywhere else drive my orgasm even higher. I’m delirious and barely coherent between all of the different assaults of stimulation that wrack my body.
I feel the fingers on my clit pull away and I’m gasping and shaking. The tickling at my ribs and underarms doesn’t relent and I can barely catch my breath enough to sustain my sobs. Fingers brush against my inner thighs and I can’t help but whine, hearing only my wild heartbeat thudding in my ears.
Suddenly, there’s a vibrator slammed against my clit and my mind breaks. There are too many things going on but my whole being is driven to focus on the horrible vibrator pillaging my clit with no mercy. My next orgasm shoots through me with no warning, no build up, no gentle waves of pleasure. Just pure ecstasy shooting deep through my body, so hard that I can feel it in my bones and it renders me completely broken.
I have no concept of time or place as the torture continues. My body moves on its own accord as it struggles and trembles, futilely trying to avoid every touch. It could have been ten minutes or ten hours when everything finally fades away and all of the hands touching me are gone. I lie there, limp, unmoving, unthinking, barely conscious. It takes me an immeasurable amount of time to catch my breath, my body still feeling phantom aftershocks of pleasure and torment. I vaguely register the feeling of someone pulling the headphones off of my head and I’m able to hear again.
“Oh darling,” his voice is the first thing I recognize, “I suppose I forgot to mention, this treatment regimen has ten levels. And we can’t move on from level one until you learn to control your body and keep still during your treatments. Clearly we’re not going to get there today, but perhaps you’ll do better tomorrow. Otherwise, you’re in for a very long stay here…”
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dotster001 · 1 month
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Eric Venue
Summary: Vil x gn!reader (technically). Vil has always found your mannerisms to be endearing. They are less endearing when they are evoked by his father.
A/N: NEW DILF DROPPED AND I HAVE ZWRO SHAME AWOOGA!!! Special thanks to @animepaniclover122403 and @l1ls4y0 for being my eyes on the inside and getting me pictures. Warning, I'm on the EN server so I know absolutely nothing about Eric Venue so this may be very out of character.
Note: It's in my pinned post, and I've mentioned this in a couple posts, but if this is the first of my stuff you've read, I view NRC as an actual college, so reader here is 18+. If it makes you more comfy, imagine it as grad school age.
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Vil remembers the first time you met him. You wouldn't look directly at him, opting to stare at the floor as you mumbled incoherent sentences. Not a clear thought left your mouth.
Were you scared? Intimidated? Or, worse, did you not like the way he looked? That last possibility kept him up longer than he'd be proud to admit.
When he moved in with you during SDC training camp, he watched you walk into a wall three separate times. It was that third time that he realized what the situation was. You were flustered. How absolutely adorable.
Over the course of the weeks, you were eventually able to say more than three words to him. You continued to have issues looking directly at him, but he didn't mind that. It was cute. And a little bit of an ego boost.
Now the two of you were thick as thieves. And, in a teasing mood, he decided to ask you about your initial reaction to him. 
As expected, you couldn't look directly at him, staring at the floor as you fidgeted with clasped hands.
Then he heard, barely above a whisper, “I've never seen anyone who is as beautiful as you.”
His heart fluttered. He knew you well enough now to know that you were from another world…
Which meant…
He was more beautiful than anyone you'd ever seen in two worlds.
“Sometimes…sometimes I can't look directly at you because when I look at you I…I can't think, and my mouth goes dry.”
Adrenaline rushed through him, and he couldn't fight off the vicious grin as he cruelly took your chin in his hand, and forced you to look at him.
“You are so adorable.” Then, to absolutely destroy what little calm you had left he pressed a kiss to your nose. You immediately crumbled, your only life line the hand still holding your chin, as he hid his laugh behind a delicate hand to his mouth.
And now? Now he'd invited you home with him for summer break. He'd planned every day's outfit down to the hour, hoping to absolutely destroy you with his casual attire. Not that it was ever truly casual, but that was by design.
And, by the end of the summer, you'd ask him out, and he'd graciously accept. And then you'd live happily ever after.
He forgot to account for one thing…
“It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard quite a bit about you,” his father said with an amused smile, as he pressed a light kiss to each of your cheeks.
Vil knew immediately. Your eyes flicked to his father's, then your entire being crumbled.
“H-h-h-hi, Mr. Venue-”
"Oh please. No need to be so formal. Call me Eric.”
“E-E-E-”
“Father! I thought you had a meeting today,” Vil cut you off quickly, an unconcealed tinge of irritation to his voice. Not that you'd notice. You were too far gone, your face unsubtly turned down to your feet.
“I did, but I'd be a poor host if I didn't come meet your- what are they again?” His father smirked, a challenge in his eyes.
“I'm-I’m his-”
“Y/N’s my guest. My guest. No need to be a host, I have it all taken care of.”
Vil and his father smiled at each other for a moment. A moment too long apparently, because you ended up trying to speak again.
“Thank you for letting me stay in your home,” you whispered, barely audible.
“It's not a problem!” He reached out for your hands, taking them in his own, his thumbs gently caressing your knuckles. “It's wonderful that my son has people that are important to him. Would you, perhaps, like to stay forever?” 
In a move very much like one of Vil's, Eric gently tipped your chin up to meet his gaze. Vil watched your face fall under the spell he himself often placed you under. It took everything inside him not to act like a child in a rage. Instead, he placed his hands on your shoulders, and quickly steered you away.
“Y/N is very tired so I will show them to their room,” Vil said. “As I said, I will be their host, no need for you to take time off.”
His father laughed as he quickly shoved you into a nearby guest room. Not even the one he had intended to put you in. But he had to get you away from his dad.
“He smelled nice,” you whispered.
Of course he did. His father smelled of mahogany and expensive cologne. When he was little, that smell meant home. Now that smell meant-
“He was so pretty,” you said with a rather nasty voice crack.
Vil grunted. Grunted! Sevens, the effect you had on him.
Just as his father had done, he took your chin in his hand, and said, firmly, “You're min-my guest. Not his. So try to keep your attention on me.”
You looked at him with big innocent eyes. Vil fought back a distressed, lovesick sigh.
“Understood…but…what if,” you bit your lip, and Vil knew whatever was about to come out of your mouth would give him gray hair. Though, clearly that would be something you would like.
“What if, you shared me?”
He stared at you, opening and closing his mouth a couple times.
“I could be both of your guests!”
“What! Do you know what you're saying?” You had to! At least a piece of you had to, or you wouldn't be continuing the conversation. 
“I don't feel safe answering that question,” you said, your eyes narrowing in suspicion at his attitude.
“I'll be blunt, Y/N,” he said firmly. “You cannot date my father.”
“I never said-”
“You didn't have to. It's written all over your face.”
You opened your mouth to protest, closed it, huffed, looked away, then you turned back to him.
“Why not?”
Vil’s jaw dropped. He sputtered, then exclaimed, “Are you seriously asking why you can't date my dad?”
“He's a dilf,” you shrugged.
“You also can't look directly at him!”
“I can change-”
“Doubtful.”
“Wow, okay. I see what this is. You are intimidated by the thought of me as your step parent.”
“You can't be my step parent!”
“I knew it! You're scared of me wearing the pants between the two of us!”
“No! You can't date my dad, because you are supposed to fall for me!”
You blinked at him. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two perfectly manicured nails. There went his summer plan.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” He sighed heavily. “Oh, as in, you feel the same? Or oh as in, awkward, leave me alone?”
You looked away, and Vil was certain if he felt your cheeks, they would feel feverish.
“I-er-ugh.”
“Take your time,” he hummed his amusement coming back to him.
You glared at him, before crumbling again, and mumbling some gibberish. 
“You can't even talk to me, but you think you can handle my father?”
You glared at him, then took a calming breath.
“I like you too.”
“Thank sevens,” he pulled you in for a hug, holding back a snicker as he felt you tremble a little.
“You smell good, too,” you muttered, before hiding your face in his shoulder. He could feel his pride swelling.
But only you could bring it down just as quickly as you brought it up.
“Why can't you share me?” your tone sounded innocent enough, but he groaned as he pushed you out at arms length. 
“I absolutely forbid you from flirting with my father.”
“I have two hands, so I could hold both of your hands at the same time!”
“Y/N, do not make me use my unique magic on you,” he warned. He watched you glare at him, but you quickly lost your composure as he reopened his arms to you, and you buried yourself against him.
He had a whole summer to keep you away from his father.
Wonderful.
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buckyalpine · 1 month
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Imagine reader high as a kite after a minor surgery or something, still coming down from the anesthesia. He's taken you home and set up camp in the living room, setting out an array of snacks for you, happy to take care of you in your loopy state. You watch him with complete heart eyes while he fusses about, getting you a blanket and fluffing pillows. He is swiftly interrupted when you suddenly grab his wrist and tug him to sit.
"Doll, is everything alri-"
"James"
"Yes?"
"Where are the others" You ask very seriously, looking deep into his eyes. You grab his face, squishing his cheeks into a pout while he cocks his head in confusion because who else were you looking for.
"James"
"Yes"
"The others"
"What are you talking about doll?" Bucky bites back a laugh when you huff, over his confusion.
"Jamessss"
"That's my name, baby" Bucky coos, letting the hamster in your brain trudge along while you knit your brows in confusion. He brings his hand to gently stroke your hair but you swat it away and hold his cheeks again.
"You just one Jame. A Jame. How can you be a James when there is just one of you. To be James there must me two. At least"
"Two of me?"
"Two of you. then Jamessss makes sense" You nod, flopping over and curling up in the sheet he'd tucked you in. "I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts" You mumble to yourself, staring a your crotch, already moving past the issue of Bucky being just one Jame.
"Darling, you don't have-
"Big ones, small ones, I'd like to give you some head"
"What"
"What" You blinked and Bucky blinked right back, the two of you unmoving until he heard your stomach grumble. He got up and grab a few of the fruit he'd cut up for you.
"She's a pervert even when she's high" Bucky sighed to himself, knowing you were staring at his ass based on the snickers you were trying to keep down as he bent over to get the plate.
"You've got a lovely bunch of coconuts"
"Doll-
"There they are, all hanging nice n' low"
"Doll-
"Big ones, full ones, Jame, take me to bed"
"What"
"What"
Also here are the original lines of that poor song I keep debauching
I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts There they are, all standing in a row Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head
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brain-rot-central · 3 months
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Pegging Your Vampire Boyfriend: A Beginner's Guide
A/N: This is exactly what you think it is. Kudos to @kittenintheden & Shaurbox for teasing this pegging idea with me over a month ago. It hasn't left my head since.
Rating: E, a very hard E Words: 5.3k Pairing: Spawn!Astarion/Fem!Reader Warnings: 18+, pegging, bdsm- soft!Dom Tav & sub!Astarion, bottom!Astarion, praise kink, ear play, size kink if you squint, inappropriate use of magical scrolls, oral sex - fellatio, anal fingering, anal sex, trauma mention, intimacy issues, verbalized consent, blood warning
Summary: Astarion has been on the receiving end before, but not since he's gotten with you. Wanting to try it again, he propositions you in a rather intimate way.
“Darling?”
A soft, questioning voice calls out from the living quarters of your shared home. 
“I'm in the kitchen, love,” you respond. You're standing before the countertop, fileting a roast of beef into smaller portions for easier storage.
Wisps of bergamot fill your senses as the inquisitor reveals himself, arms wrapping gently around your waist. His nose dips into the crook of your neck, cool lips planting chaste kisses upon your skin.
“Oh, that smells divine,” he comments. Of course it does - it's a blood-soaked slab of beef. You laugh and lean your head into his, carefully slicing another steak from the meat. He covers the hand holding your knife and brings it carefully to his face, tongue lolling out to drag across the flat of the blade. He sighs in contentment as the blood soaks into his tongue, lavishing the flavor.
You wince as he releases the grip on your hand, gently placing the knife off to the side. I’ll need a new one, now, you comment to yourself. 
“Is there something you needed, Astarion?” you ask him.
He hums low in his throat. “Hmm, yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.” He peels himself away from your back and stands straight. His hands are still on your hips and you feel his forehead fall against your back.
In a whisper, he asks, “How do you feel… about taking the reins?”
You turn your head to the side, cocking an eyebrow as you ask, “What do you mean? I was on top last time.”
Astarion laughs against your back, a puff of cool air passing over your clothed skin. “I know, love,” he begins. “I mean to suggest that… you play the part of me. And I… well, you.”
It takes your brain a few seconds to interpret his words, but once it finally comes together, you feel a blush beginning to creep up your chest.
“Oh!” you exclaim, now with full understanding. “A-are you sure? I'm not opposed to it, but I have to admit… I've never done it before.”
Astarion chuckles lightly, tightening his grip around your waist, placing soft kisses along the side of your neck. “Neither have I, my dear.”
You peel yourself out of his embrace, turning your whole body toward him. A scowl lines your face; you know of his history.
“Well, I-” he stammers. “I've been with men, yes; laid on my back a number of times for them.” Astarion casts his eyes to the floor before continuing, “I have never done… this, though. With a woman.”
Expression softening from his explanation, you turn your body again toward the counter, moving yourself over to the sink to begin washing your hands. “Are you sure you want to explore this?” you ask, concern evident. “That it won't bring back… memories?”
He leans against the opposite end of the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “There's no way to truly know unless we try,” he explains. “Though, I must admit, it's been on my mind incessantly, as of late.”
It's your turn to laugh, grabbing a hand towel to dry your hands. “Really?” you ask. “You've been thinking about me fucking you?”
Astarion scoffs, a scowl forming on his face. “Must you be so vulgar?”
You smile, moving toward him to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I'd be your first?”
He sighs with an eye roll before saying, “Proverbially speaking, yes, you would be my first.” Astarion's hand comes up to hold your chin fast as he captures your lips in a chaste kiss. “My second first.”
You hum in satisfaction, wrapping your arms around his waist. He releases your chin and you rest your head against his chest. “So, how do we do this?” you inquire. “I wouldn't even know the first place to start.”
Leaning his cheek against the side of your forehead, he replies, “Not to worry, I've taken care of that already.”
“Astarion!” you exclaim, lifting your head from his chest.
He smiles as he meets your gaze. “I already told you I've been thinking about it!”
You lightly tap on his chest in a scolding manner before asking, “How did you know I'd even be okay with this idea?”
“I didn't,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders. “But even if you weren't, I'd still have something to play with later.”
Your face burns at his bold admission, images of him sinking said something into himself flooding your vision. You've never thought of him in that way before, but you quickly admit to yourself just how much it excites you.
“Hello?” Astarion asks innocently, waving his hand over your face. “Are you still with me? Have I given you too much to think about?”
“You're terrible,” you tease, peeling yourself from his embrace in a huff once again. Your face is as red as hot coals, head swimming. “When did you want to try this?” 
Astarion cocks his head to one side in thought. “I was thinking tonight?” he answers. “Or sometime soon. Whatever works for you, love.”
Nodding your head in agreement, you say, “Alright, then. Tonight it is.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Evening has fallen and you're fresh from the bath. You walk out into your shared bedroom, bathrobe wrapped snugly around your form as you dry your hair with a towel. Astarion bathed earlier as you cleaned the kitchen, telling you he would use the opportunity to prepare for your night ahead.
“Ah, there you are!” he exclaims in joy. “I've been waiting for you.” Dipping down into the drawer of the end table next to the bed, Astarion says, “There are a couple options we can choose from, darling.”
Astarion is dressed in nothing but his ruffled white shirt with the front laces undone, and his favorite pair of baby-blue and gold underwear. The hem of the shirt covers his underwear, giving off the illusion of wearing nothing underneath.
Standing up straight, he's now holding a tube of rolled parchment in one hand and a phallic toy in the other. “We have a scroll of Mystical Phallus,” Astarion explains, “or, your more traditional approach.”
You smirk as you run the towel through your damp hair, letting your bathrobe fall to the floor. Lifting your chin toward the direction of the parchment, you ask, “What's the deal with the scroll?”
Astarion clears his throat as the robe falls off your form, eyes quickly roaming over your newly exposed skin. He turns to place the toy back in the drawer, returning to meet your gaze before saying, “The shopkeeper explained it as ‘granting the caster a temporary phallus that's as close to the real thing.’ Not quite sure to what level it goes, but I'll admit - I am curious.”
“Alright, let's go with that one, then,” you decide, walking over to take the scroll from his hand. 
You're not too familiar with magic, being a soldier and all, but you've used scrolls before. Opening the paper tube, you're relieved to find that the spell is a rather simple one.
As you recite the incantation etched within the scroll, a faint blue light envelops the room for a mere moment. The light fades, the scroll disintegrating, and you can't help but notice an unfamiliar heaviness between your thighs that wasn't there before.
“Oh,” Astarion comments, shifting his weight onto one hip, accompanied by a hand. “Well, that's rather generous.”
Looking down, your eyes drink in the source of your discomfort. Glowing blue, and well endowed, lay a cock. Your cock, at least for tonight. It juts up proudly in the air from between your thighs, seeming like an extension of your clitoris. Other parts, thankfully, have remained unchanged.
“...Oh,” is all you manage, continuing to survey the mystical length. “This… this is mine?”
Astarion walks over, lowering himself onto his knees in front of you. “It would appear as such,” he states. “And my, oh my, how beautiful it is.”
You scowl, meeting his gaze. You're suddenly uncomfortable, his eyes flitting between yours and your newly summoned appendage. “I don't know what to do, Astarion,” you admit in a hushed tone.
He chuckles lightly. “Touch it, love,” he says, reassuringly. “Don’t be afraid. It's your cock.”
Nodding your head, you bring a hand up hesitantly to brush over your new addition. “Ah!” you exclaim in shock, your fingertips passing over the bulbous tip. A familiar pulling sensation in your groin begins to stir as you bend slightly inward.
Astarion, looking up at you with wide eyes, asks, “So? How does it feel?”
You can feel everything, as if this has always been part of your anatomy. Each feathered touch sends sparks of electricity up and through you, snagging behind a peculiar spot in your lower stomach.
“Real, Astarion,” you sigh in disbelief, giving yourself a few more tentative touches along the shaft. “I feel like this is my cock.”
“Do you, now?” he quips in a sultry tone. “Is it okay if I do this, then?”
Your mind barely has time to register what he might be implying before Astarion drags the flat of his tongue up the underside of your ethereal summon. Your vision blanks from the sensation, nearly toppling over had Astarion not been bracing you.
“Wh-what was that?” you yell, nearly breathless.
Concern outlining his face, Astarion asks from below you, “Too much? We can stop, if you want.”
You shake your head in disagreement. “N-no,” you respond. “No, that's not it.” Placing a hand on his head, you brush his fallen curls out of his eyes, meeting them with yours. “If this is even remotely close to how you feel when it's me doing this,” you explain, “then I appreciate the level of self-control you maintain over yourself.”
Astarion hums in satisfaction, placing a quick kiss along your shaft before rising to his feet. “It's a lot, I'll admit,” he tells you. Your length jumps in response, and he smiles. “Especially how you suck my cock.”
You're barely able to respond before Astarion’s kissing you; soft, but passionate. His hands grab hold of your hips, drawing you in closer until your centers meet. You moan into his mouth as he repeats the motion a few times, your jaw going slack under his ministrations.
His arousal is evident through the fabric of his undergarments, though not quite there just yet. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you roll your hips into his with vigor, a bolt of pleasure pulling behind your pubic bone. He groans, tangling his tongue with yours, and begins walking you back until you hit the wall behind you.
Astarion asks, “Do you want me to do that to you, darling?” breathily, breaking the kiss. A hand winds in your hair, pulling your head to the side as he licks a stripe up the side of your neck. 
You shudder under his touch, grinding your length against his clothed erection again, searching for friction. “O-oooh-nly,” you groan, “i-if you want.”
Astarion pulls himself back entirely, tapping a finger lightly on your chest. “Ah-ah-ah,” he chides, “I asked you. I already know what I want.”
You close your eyes in frustration, hips involuntarily lurching forward in an attempt to catch more contact. You feel how heavy your cock is - painfully hard between your legs, desperate for release. It throbs in time with your clit, and you feel the wetness of your arousal beginning to gather at the apex of your thighs. 
“Y-yes, please,” you gasp, thighs rubbing together in a hopeless quest for relief.
Satisfied, Astarion plants a kiss along your jaw, placing his hands on either side of your shoulders. “Good girl,” he purrs as he begins to kneel again. Tracing a line of kisses down your body, starting between the valley of your breasts, his hands move down to cup each within his palms.
Rolling the sensitive peaks of your nipples between his fingertips, your body jerks again, cock brushing ever so lightly against his chest as he continues kissing down the plane of your abdomen. Astarion, now sitting on his heels, braces his hands against your thighs. 
He looks up to meet your eyes through full lashes. “Please tell me to stop if it becomes too much,” he tells you, genuine concern lacing his tone.
You hum in agreement, a hand coming up to tangle within the silver locks atop his head. Watching as he closes his eyes, Astarion licks again at the underside of your cock, base to tip. You shudder as his hand wraps delicately around your shaft, peeling the foreskin back. He takes a few tentative passes with his tongue along your frenulum, meeting your eyes momentarily to gauge your reaction.
Your hips buck and stutter under his tongue, a string of pleasured gasps and guttural moans slipping past your lips. The hand in his hair tightens as he takes the head of you past his lips, suckling softly on the sensitive gland. 
It takes a world of restraint not to shove the rest of yourself into the inviting cavern of his mouth. Astarion must know this, however, as the hand still planted on your thigh moves to your hip, holding you still. He doesn’t leave you wanting for long, passing as much of your length into his mouth as he can manage, his hand following you down to the base. He flattens his tongue on the way back up, hollowing out his cheeks as he reaches the tip, only to do it all over again.
Knees growing weak, you push your back into the wall behind you to hold yourself steady. The hand in his hair slips, pads of your fingers passing just over the tip of his ear. Astarion moans at the faint touch, the vibration shooting up through your cock and spreading like wildfire throughout your abdomen. You perform the same motion again, and Astarion begins craning his head into your touch.
“A-ah-” he gasps, pulling himself off of you. “Darling, if you keep doing that, I-”
His mouth falls open in a delicate pant, eyes flitting closed as he works his spittle over your length with his hand. You continue toying with the outer shell of his ear, intrigued at this new discovery, and he rests his forehead against your hip. 
“I never knew you had such sensitive ears,” you comment as you look down, watching him rub his thighs together as his hips buck up and down into the air.
With a drawn out groan, Astarion explains, “I’m an elf, my love. We all have sensitive ears.”
“Noted,” you respond, shakily bringing a hand down to join him along your shaft. You softly peel off his touch, lacing your fingers together. “I-I think I want to try something else, now,” you admit.
Smiling, Astarion slowly rises to his feet, cradling your jaw within his hand. His lips, swollen and soft from his prior activity, find yours; his kiss is desperate - hungry. “What do you have in mind?” he questions between quickly stolen breaths.
A fire swells within your core, and you're suddenly met with the same raging intensity and desire displayed in Astarion's kiss.
Hand tangling within his mess of moonlit curls once again, you pull Astarion’s head back, exposing the marble column of his throat. He groans when you drag the flat of your tongue over the apple of his throat, hips jerking into yours.
“I want to try fucking you,” you whisper into his skin, grinding your conjured length against his concealed erection to punctuate your intent. The coiling in your core winds tighter, but not enough to snap just yet.
As his weight presses into you, his hands grip your biceps for stability. Another roll of his hips and he sighs, dropping his head down to catch your eyes. “Are you sure?” he questions, breathless. “Because I'd really like that.”
With a nod of your head, your hands travel up under the hem of his shirt to settle on strong, narrow hips. Your lips meet again, the kiss just as ravenous as before, and begin walking you both toward the bed. When Astarion’s knees hit the edge of the bed, he gently falls back, with you quickly closing the distance above him.
“You needn’t worry about preparation,” he reveals as you lavish attention on his neck. “I took care of that earlier.” 
He shudders beneath you as you mouth his scars. “Isn’t that part of this whole process?” you ask while hooking your hands into the waistband of his underwear, slowly tugging them down.
Astarion lifts his hips up and laughs, providing enough space for you to slide the cotton fabric down and off his form. “It is, but I figured it was gracious enough of you to entertain this idea,” he explains. “Prep for this is… well, intimate.” He averts your gaze for a brief moment, drawing a large breath in before continuing, “I would understand if it didn’t appeal to you.”
Removing yourself from his reach, you sit back over your legs. His face shifts uneasily at your sudden withdrawal. “Astarion,” you begin to tell him, “I’m not ashamed of your body. I want to explore this as a couple.” He’s drawn his legs together in a likely attempt at covering himself. You place a hand atop one knee, rubbing soft circles as you say reassuringly, “All of it, together. So, please. Let me?”
Astarion sits up with a smile, and rests his forehead over yours. “If you keep being this nice to me, I may just return the favor,” he says, light-heartedly.
“You already do, Astarion,” you tell him with a laugh. “Always the gentleman.”
His kiss is a quick peck over your lips as he tells you, “There's a bottle of oil in the bedside drawer. Grab it, and I'll show you what to do.” 
You nod, sliding off the mattress and doing as instructed. Astarion moves himself higher into the center of the bed, sinking into the comforter and pillows. The bed dips below him as you climb back on, bottle of viscous liquid in hand.
“Pour some into one palm and rub your hands together, love,” he instructs. “This helps warm the oil.”
Popping the stopper off the bottle, you pour the cool, thick, opaque fluid out into your hand. You reapply the cork, placing it face up on top of the bedside drawer, rubbing the palms of your hands together. It takes a bit, but inevitably your body heat begins to seep into the oil.
Astarion lay before you, eyes beginning to hood over as he follows your hands. His legs fall silently open as his breath hitches for a mere moment. “Good,” he says encouragingly, his voice an octave lower. “Now, come here. Between my legs.”
You move in closer and note how the hem of his shirt is obscuring his cock from view. You can just make it out, though - it pushes against the fabric of the shirt, tenting it slightly and you swear you see a small darkened spot right where the tip of his cock lay hidden. Looking up, your eyes drink in how his collar has fallen to one side, sliding down and off his right shoulder, exposing his collar bone. Astarion normally wears this shirt with the sleeves rolled up tight, yet today, he's chosen to wear them loose.
His hands, half covered by the cuffs of his sleeves, envelop yours in a gentle embrace as he guides your slickened fingers to his core. Astarion stills for a moment, and you look up to find him staring back at you. 
There's an expression on his face that you’re not immediately familiar with - it's not fear, excitement, or lust, really. Yet, the longer you study him, recognition begins to dawn over you. 
It's the same look you've given him countless times before on this very bed, having thrown caution to the wind as you entwine the very fabric of your souls together.
Astarion is… submitting himself. To you.
Something majorly delicate, knowing his past. 
You know of what he was forced to endure while being compelled into submission. 
The barrage of lovers who cared not for the person below them; who saw him only as a means to an end. A quick pump, a cheap lay, a tool to scratch a nagging itch.
“Some people refer to the moment of climax as ‘a little death,’” he’d once told you. That was before you knew just how many he'd lead to their actual deaths.
True to form, Astarion's words are often double-edged blades. His mind dances constantly on the edge of pleasure and shame. You see it in his face, now. He’s standing on that precipice, knowing not whether to jump head first or step back.
You swallow thickly and stare back at him, unblinking, before saying, “You can always tell me if it becomes too much, and I will stop.” You pause for a brief moment before adding, “Pleasure is my only intent, Astarion.”
A smile graces his lips as he welcomes your fingers to make first contact with his entrance. “Oh, my dear,” he says with a sigh, “I’ve never doubted that about you.”
Leaning over him as you press the pads of two fingers teasingly against his tight ring of muscle, you kiss him. Astarion groans softly into your mouth, his hands coming up to cup either side of your face as he arches into the kiss. He’s grinding down lightly into your fingers, meeting each of your chaste touches against him.
“How many should I start with?” you ask softly, breaking the kiss for a brief moment.
“Two,” he answers, voice but a whisper against your lips. “Whichever ones you want.”
Humming into his mouth, you begin pushing your fingers into his entrance. Astarion’s breath hitches as you breach the perimeter, shoving his head back against the pillows. He instinctively tries closing his legs around you, though you hold one open with your free hand.
You still your movements, giving him a chance to adjust to the intrusion. “Is it alright?” you ask him.
Astarion nods his head as he moves a hand under his shirt to toy with a nipple. “Yes,” he huffs out. “I'm more than fine, love.”
Emboldened to the task at hand, you move, gently pushing and pulling your fingers within him. You feel his muscles contract around you and you briefly wonder if this is what he feels when he's inside of you. The thought sends a bolt of pleasure to your cunt, reverberating as a twitch of your cock. 
You look down to watch your fingers as they work him open, and finally see his cock laying against the plane of his abdomen. Compared to the pallor of the rest of him, his length is flushed pink and red, and you can make out the labored beating of his undead heart as his cock thumps softly against his stomach. Pre-fluid seeps from his tip, gathering in a small puddle just below his navel. Bending down, you catch a small rivulet rolling off his hip with your tongue, tracing it back to the source. Astarion shudders under you, threading his free hand through your hair as he pushes down onto your fingers.
You're beginning to understand that this isn't too different from your usual sexual encounters with one another. It's truly just a mirroring of your typical positions. Out of curiosity, you curl your fingers upward in one particular pass, and his entire body spasms beneath you.
“Fuck, darling, yes… You've found it,” Astarion groans out, labored. The grip in your hair tightens and he begins fucking himself in earnest on your fingers, a string of moans falling from his lips as he passes that same spot over and over again.
Your cunt aches and your cock throbs watching the scene before you. To see him unraveling before you, submitting himself to the pleasure of the moment is intoxicating. His legs have fallen open again and you watch, diligently, at how easily your fingers glide in and out of his core.
“I- I need more,” Astarion suddenly chokes out. You meet his gaze and through lust-hooded eyes, he says, “Please… let me ride you.”
He's pleading, you notice. Begging. Your eyes travel down his form again, drinking in the wanton display of him splitting himself open over your fingers. Your cunt throbs; you think of nothing else in that moment but pulling out your fingers and replacing them with your cock. 
To hear the delicious whines, the sobs, the cries that would surely tumble freely from Astarion's lips as he came undone around you. You want this, just as much as he does.
Pulling your hand free from his entrance, Astarion sobs as you crash your lips into his. “I'd love that,” you tell him, honestly.
Astarion begins to sit up, concentrating on never breaking the kiss you share as he aids you both in switching positions. You lay back, him straddling your lap mere moments later. He grinds his taint against your conjured appendage, your shafts brushing, and he cries out in a gentle moan against your lips. He breaks the kiss, reaching for the bottle of oil on the bedside table, dribbling some onto your cock.
With a few languid strokes of your mystical length to spread the oil and he lines himself up over you. Your eyes meet and you hiss through clenched teeth as your tip kisses his entrance, feeling the pressure slide over your glans as he slowly begins to take you.
“A-ahh,” Astarion pants from above you, still holding your cock steady in one hand. You sigh as you feel yourself push past the first ring of muscle, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your hands grip at his thighs as the sensation threatens to overwhelm you, fingertips likely to leave bruises that will be gone come morning.
Once he feels confident that you're nestled far enough inside, he releases his hold on your shaft, resting the palms of his hands against your lower stomach. He continues to slowly take you further in, words in a language you're unfamiliar with spilling from his mouth, until he's flush against your thighs.
Both of you freeze in that moment - you struggle to control your ragged breathing as he flutters around you, Astarion taking a moment to adjust to this foreign, but not unpleasant, sensation.
“H-how do I feel?” he asks in a hushed voice.
Truthfully? He feels… astounding. Tight, wet, and warmer than you would have thought for a vampire. When he lifts his hips, you feel the air being pulled out of your lungs. His walls drag deliciously along your shaft, and a nagging pull starts to build behind your navel. 
Your mouth drops open in a silent gasp as your eyes meet his through hooded lids. “A-amazing,” you pant out. “You feel so good, Astarion.”
He moans above you, his head falling to one side as he rolls his hips over your cock. His shirt hangs off one shoulder, the hem obscuring his cock again from view. Though, you feel its weight slap against your stomach with each lift and drop of his hips. 
Astarion’s voice comes out strained when he says, “Tell me again… please.”
You feel your cock twitch within him; he clenches around you as he locks eyes with you, waiting patiently for a response. Strands of sweat-soaked hair stick to his face, and on one particular stroke of his hips, you brush up against that place inside of him that forces his vision to blur at the edges. His mouth begins to salivate.
“Please, please, please,” he begs impatiently, voice an octave higher now. He's practically sobbing, spearing himself over your cock so each roll is angled to hit his prostate. You meet his thrusts from below, coil winding tighter within your abdomen as his walls continue to massage your cock.
You're not going to last much longer.
“You're so good for me, Astarion,” you say, obliging him. “You're being such a good boy.”
Astarion's mouth drops open as he bows his head forward, his entire body dipping down over you as a shudder passes through him. “Yes,” he whines, rocking back on your hips with renewed vigor. You feel his cock lay flat against your abdomen in this new position. It drags over your stomach, pre-fluid dripping from his tip and onto your skin providing an easier surface.
I am! And beautiful - not enough people mention that.
His words from long ago echo in your mind as you drink in his expression. He's gorgeous above you; handsome to begin with, but as he slips further toward toppling over the Cliff's edge, his beauty is quickly becoming amplified as he continues to lose composure.
“You’re beautiful like this,” you coo to him, lifting a hand from his thigh to rub over an ear.
Astarion's body is wracked by yet another tremor as he cries, “Darling, if you don’t-, I will-, I'm going-!” His head nestles into the hand toying with his ear and his hips pump erratically over your cock, having lost his prior rhythm.
You suck in a sharp breath, jaw clenched as Astarion becomes impossibly tighter around your shaft, and you groan. You're so close, so very close that all you need is one more thing to push yourself over the edge.
“Let go, Astarion,” you say, somehow finding the rhythm in his desperate rutting. The sound of skin slapping roughly fills the room as your hips meet his on his downstroke. You wrap a hand around the outline of his cock tenting his shirt, and jerk him in tempo with your thrusts.
He’s sobbing, loud and unabashedly. With one particular pass of your fingers over the outer tip of his ear, Astarion suddenly unwinds. He yells his pleasure above you, collapsing onto your chest as wave after wave overcomes him. You feel his spend seep into the fabric of his shirt and onto the skin of your abdomen in a small warm pool. 
It doesn't take long for the involuntary spasming of his core over your cock to send you spiraling into your own completion. Moans slip freely past your lips and you feel your folds become soaked, drippinh down the cleft of your ass as your relief washes over you. You bury your face against Astarion's hair, breathing in his soft silver curls and the signature cologne you know so well.
As you both begin to come down off your highs, you wrap your arms around his back and hold him tightly against your chest. You feel the spell of the phallus lift, Astarion whimpering softly as it vanishes from within him. You both lay on the bed, panting, trying to catch your breath for what feels like ages.
Astarion is first to lift up his head and say, “That… that was amazing.”
“Mm,” you hum in agreement. You can barely open your eyes as fatigue begins to set in.
Taking a finger, Astarion traces circles absentmindedly into your skin as he rests his head back down over your chest. “Darling?” he asks softly. “May I tell you something?”
Sleep almost has its claws in you when you jolt back awake, forcing your eyes to snap open and find Astarion. “Hmm?” you groan in question.
With a quick huff, Astarion says, “I just wanted to thank you for doing this with me.” He places a quick peck below your jawbone before adding, “It was really nice.”
You sigh audibly, and say “It was, we should do this again.” Your eyelids are impossibly heavy; sleep is threatening to claim you and will do so in mere moments. “I love you,” you manage to mumble out before slipping gently out of consciousness.
Astarion smiles into your skin as he says, “I love you, too,”
I love this, he thinks.
I love us.
2K notes · View notes
subwaysurf45 · 1 year
Text
She’s Not Mad
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Summary: Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways. 
Words: 9k (if you’ve been wondering where I’ve been...)
Warnings: Bucky has mommy issues, mentions of oral sex, nudity, angst, fluff, college!bucky, slow burn
A/N: thanks for the patience! 
Masterlist
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A Couple of Weeks Ago…
“So, you’re not a thing?” Bucky asked as he shoved his laptop and notebook back into his bag, grabbing the handle of his water bottle and choosing to carry it with him for the walk. 
The two boys were higher up in the rows of the lecture hall as they peered over the two girls talking to the professor. Steve had his eyes drilled into Natasha, the girl standing off to the side as her friend went over a question she had. 
“She told me she is still figuring out her feelings since her last serious relationship,” Steve sighed as he packed up as well, “and I told her I’d wait- apparently this guy’s parents had given their family engagement ring and everything.” 
Bucky pulled the corner of his lips out tight as they began to walk down the stairs, “who’s the other girl?” 
“The one that was just asking the question is Y/N,” Steve watched as both girls left the room, “good friends, met last year, live together now.” 
“She’s cute,” Bucky said purely, no smirk or innuendo.
********
You sat over your laptop in the library with both hands acting as a brim to cover your eyes from the people around you. Tears rolled down your face as you studied the practice question, you felt pathetic and you tried to sniffle as quietly as possible. If anyone saw you silently bawling you’d drop out, it was stupid enough already when the librarian walked over and dropped a tissue box off without saying a word. 
“What do you mean?” you whispered to the page for the hundredth time, hoping for some answer. 
You had done the homework, you went to the study groups, you even extended your prof's office hours because you wanted to make sure you were doing everything right. Yet here you were, sitting alone on a Friday night because you still can’t do the practice assignment. Quitting felt like the only option, it wasn’t like everything was going to click; it was too late. 
This was just going to become the thing that you could never do, simple as that. Sometimes there are subjects that no matter how hard you try, you don’t have the flair. It was a tough pill to swallow but you’d never be able to do any work if you’d continue to hold yourself to a high standard, it was a win to get the little things right, not the entire question. 
The idea of failing was new to you. The jump from high school to college was still something you never adapted to, you always expected nineties on everything and not the mindset that C’s get degrees. 
Trying to do the question was like beating a dead horse, you needed a break. You ran your hands over your face and leaned back in your chair, hearing pops from your back as you did so, until you were leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. When you looked straight you saw someone already staring at you. 
He had longer brown hair that hit his jawline, blue eyes that jumped out at you, and a very concerned look on his face. He was familiar but you didn’t know what it was from. 
“Are you Natasha’s friend?” The guy came up to your empty table. 
“Yeah?” You wiped away your tears, extremely confused as he pulled out the chair right beside you to sit at the eight sided table. 
“I’m good friends with Steve, I think the two of them have something going on- not important, but I kind of know you and I'd rather not leave someone I kinda know alone crying, so…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” you rolled your eyes and faced your computer again, “the absolute last thing I need is something watching me cry, alright?” your bottom lip wobbled as you kept your eyes away from his at all times. 
He was still staring at you, “come on,” he sighed and moved his hand to comfort you but thought otherwise, “I’m not going to laugh at you or run and tell everyone I know I saw a girl crying in the library- y’know what they’d say?” You could see him tilt his head, “they’d say what’s the big deal, haven’t we all?” 
You scoffed, “no they wouldn’t.” 
“You’re calling me a liar?” 
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Bucky,” he stuck out his hand, “Bucky Barnes.” You shook his hand, “and since I am a Barnes and was raised by my ma I simply can not let this continue, it’s my obligation to either cheer you up or take you home.” 
You scoffed again and tried your best to hide your smile, “and I’m Y/N, and in my family we stress about everything and never give up so I can’t leave until I get this question, so…”
Bucky’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he flipped the laptop to face him a little better, “this is the class all four of us have together, alright,” he read over the question and immediately furrowed his brows before looking at you again, trying your best to hold it together. He knew the answer but couldn’t bear to see your reaction, it was painfully obvious you were beating yourself stupid over these questions. 
“Can you take a deep breath for me?” he asked like he was talking to a child. 
“I barely know you, dude,” you crossed your arms and ripped your laptop back to face you, “and I’ll have you know I don’t need a man to come in here and explain everything to me, alright, I’m going to figure this out on my own and I don’t need you, okay? So just head home, tell Steve I say hi.” 
Bucky took a deep breath himself, “that question isn’t marked on the homework, the reason you can’t get the answer is because the way to get it has most likely not been taught yet,” he paused and saw your face crumble, “and I didn’t want to freak you out because you look like you’ve been here a while and you seem to be beating yourself up and I just couldn’t-”
“Stop,” you whispered and covered your face with your hands, “just stop talking.” 
And he did. 
Trying your best to calm your breaths, it didn’t work. So fucking stupid, unbelievable, there’s no way you just spent close to an hour staring at a problem you didn’t even have to do in the first place. 
“Can you walk me home?” you squeeked. 
“Of course,” Bucky stood up right away and started helping you pack your bag, “I have some water, do you want it?” He held up his water bottle. You nodded and began drinking as you both made your way outside and towards your off-campus house. 
“Did you need to study?” you asked as you screwed on the cap. 
Bucky laughed and looked up at the night sky, “I was going for a walk because I heard there was a blood moon tonight, and there is, look,” he point up and saw the red mood looming above both of you, “and I just happened to walk past the library, I looked in the window and recognised your laptop as well as your hair, funny enough,” he laughed as he looked forward again. 
“So you just came in to see me?” you needed to make sure you were hearing this right, it’s not like it happens often. 
“I was going to introduce myself to you actually,” Bucky shrugged and looked over at you, “I know Steve and Nat are trying to figure things out and I thought friends of two people who might date should know one another. Then I saw you crying so I changed my game plan.”
You just nodded, slightly brushing into Bucky’s arm as you walked. It was hard to stay straight with the exhaustion taking over, every now and then you’d brush your knuckles past Bucky’s. He was a cute guy, and something about him being oh so caution around you made you feel important. 
“This is me,” you said later as you walked up the steps, “thanks Bucky, I hope we can be friends.” 
Bucky smiled and stood at the bottom of the steps, “if you ever get in your head again like that and need someone to pull you away, let me know- even in the middle of the night, alright?”
“Alright,” you laughed with your hand on the door handle. 
“I’m serious, Y/N. I look after the people close to me, I look after friends of friends like siblings,” there was no joking in his tone, it seemed other people doubted him on this promise. “I’ll give you my number,” he hand reached out for your phone. 
“I’ll be fine, you seemed to have good luck running into me,” you giggle and open the door to your house. Before it fully closed you felt resistance, looking over your shoulder you saw Bucky holding open your door. 
He was smiling, “then give me your number for another reason.” 
“Oh?” you turned and placed a hand on your chest, “you’re rather forward. 
“Well being cryptic didn’t work, did it?” He laughed and held out his hand again, “come on, I might need a study buddy one day- or even better, a lunch buddy.” you laughed as he tried to duck to meet your eyeline, “you don’t want to be my lunch buddy?”
“I’ll be your lunch buddy,” you giggled and handed him your phone, he wasted no time adding it in. “Goodnight,” you whispered and made it into your house, leaning back and resting against the door. You thought for a moment before breaking into a massive smile, replaying how he tried to keep eye contact with you. Or how he’d been so proud of how his mother raised him- “son of a bitch,” you whispered. 
He walked you back home and cheered you up. 
Just like he said he would. 
A Few Days Later…
Your phone must be hacked or something because your weather app said it would be completely clear today and sunny in the afternoon. As you sat in the cafe you thought it would clear up but it was only getting worse. 
All you needed to do was brave the rain and make your way home, but waiting for the perfect time when everything would let up for a moment was pointless. 
Walking as fast as you can with your head down, you saw your grey sweatpants become a darker shade instantly. It was a straight downpour with absolutely no sign of letting up, you swore you heard thunder when you waited at the crosswalk. Due to your phone lying to you, you had not brought a hooded article of clothing or umbrella so you just had to deal with everything going wrong. 
There definitely was thunder and the lightning was right above you, it seemed like you were the last person on Earth because everyone else was smart enough to stay inside right now; but not you. Down your little street you began to run, trying to get away from the lightning that was chasing you. 
If you could guess you’d say most people who had been struck by lightning most likely thought they were too far away, in denial as the sky opened up from above. It was hard to admit you were actually a little scared at that moment, rain getting in your eyes as you sprinted down to your house that was now in view. 
With your key at the ready you fell inside, slamming the door behind you. 
Natasha rounded the corner, “you idiot, I was trying to call you!” She screamed and saw your state, “Steve and Bucky are over-they drove over they could have picked you up,” Natasha got in your face to peel off the sweater, taking it off right over your head and leaving you in your bralette and those drenched sweatpants. 
“You took off my shirt when there’s boys here?” you whispered as you began to shake, covering your chest with crossed arms. 
“We guessed you were walking back so we put towels in the dryer,” as if on cue Bucky rounded the same corner with your fluffy towel ready, “thank you Bucky,” Natasha wrapped it around your shoulders. 
“Hi, Bucky,” you squeeked, “glad we keep meeting like this.”
Natasha had walked upstairs, most likely getting different pants. Bucky got down on one knee and slipped off your shoes, “like what?” he asked as he looked up, he reminded you of a little puppy somehow. He was as big as a great dane but there was an underlying softness that made you want to hug him or just let him wrap his arm around you. 
You huffed as you pulled the towel tighter, “when I’ve just done something embarrassing and you’re there to save the day.”
Bucky stood up with his arms crossed, “only you would think crying or getting caught in the rain is embarrassing,” he shook his head and reached out to rub your shoulder that was covered by the towel, “I like helping and I like making sure people I know are okay, you know this.”
“I do,” you whispered and walked further in your house. Before you could get anywhere near comfortable Natasha whisked you away to change your soggy pants as well as throw on a sweater, they had also been thrown in the drier, everything was very toasty and warm.
Steve was sitting on the couch, staring intensely at the football game going on. Natasha guided you back in and towards the couch. There was enough room for four of you but you knew thighs would be pressed up against one another, you were okay with that if Bucky was sitting beside you. Though you don’t see him often it was nice when you did even though you made it seem like it was embarrassing. Something about having someone who loves taking care of people take care of you so well caused you to crave it a little more. 
Bucky came around the couch with a mug, “hot chocolate for you,” he whispered and took the spot beside you, next to the arm rest. You thanked him and let your hand slightly burn on the mug when you held it, liking how the warmth began to spread up your arms. Natasha found her spot on the other side of you while Steve stayed on the edge, leaning forward and never looking away from the game. 
“This is really good,” you sipped it and whispered to Bucky, he just smiled and leaned into your side for a moment. 
“What were you working on?” he asked after a moment. 
“I was at the cafe for a little treat but before I was doing my elective course,” you spoke softly. It seemed like everything happened for a reason because you only got food at the cafe which left room for this hot chocolate now. 
“And that is?” Bucky giggled as he leaned forward again. 
“Art history,” suddenly, you were coy. Most people thought your elective was a bird course but to you it was actually interesting, it wasn’t often you were met with a positive response. 
His eyes got wide, “that’s sick!” Bucky readjusted himself off the couch, “I would have never even thought of that course, wow, that’s really cool. So, like, what do you-”
“Bucky, I love you, brother, I really do but-” Steve sighed, “can you please be quiet, this game is very important.” 
“I didn’t think the Big Game was on today?” you asked as you took another sip. 
“It’s not that,” Steve places his beer down, “it’s the State Cup Finals, it’s college football.” 
Natasha smiled and looked over, “his team’s the underdog and are actually on the road to winning the entire thing!” She giggled and linked an arm with Steve who was happy to cuddle up with her, “it’s actually very exciting once you learn the ins and outs of it.”
You just nodded and faced forward again, seeing Bucky out of the corner of your eyes rubbing his thumb on the neck of his beer bottle, staring off into space. The moment you leaned your head on his shoulder he looked over at you, your heart broke when you saw a sad smile. He was just trying to talk to you, he got excited for you and here he was being scolded. 
“Do you want to come look at some of my notes, or are you into this game?” you whispered and saw his eyes light up, both of you quickly stood and headed up stairs with your bag slung over your shoulder. 
The moment you walked into your room you felt everything slow down, Bucky slowly walked in and looked around. He was smiling to himself as he l took in your photos on the walls or posters, even your to do list seemingly growing on the white board you have mounted to one wall. 
You sat on the corner of your bed as he flipped through your notes, “so you’re, like, breaking down these paintings, it's not just the history of when they were painted?”
“Oh yeah,” you fiddled with the hem of your dry sweater, “most of these artist go insane and we look for that in the work or even just what was happening during the time with stuff that you’d learn in a normal history class but we look at if and when it get put into art,” this was your little thing you could talk about for ages, “very cool stuff.” 
Bucky nodded and flipped the pages, “your notes are amazing,” he whispered, “you’re a pretty good student, huh?” he looked over his shoulder and saw you sitting there, just staring at him as he made his way around your room. “What?” he giggled and made his way over to you, holding his hand out to get you to stand up. 
“Nothing,” you tucked your chin to your chest, getting coy at the attention. “You’re just…y’know, sweet.” 
Bucky just smiled and rubbed your arm, giggling as you both stared at one another for a moment. “Do you want to go back down?” 
“Sure,” you nodded and leaned forward, smiling as you both made your way back downstairs. 
The rain still worked its way down your windows as the beers and wine kept flowing. The game had ended a while ago but Steve and Bucky didn’t see a reason to leave, it was a good moment that no one wanted to end. You had finished your hot chocolate and moved onto wine, sipping it slowly as everyone talked. It was nice to be brought into this group even though it stemmed from Nat and Steve, there was good chemistry between the four of you. 
Talking to everyone was effortless, you didn’t need to act like someone else to fit in. no one was yelling over someone else to get their point across, there weren't any passive aggressive tones in anyone's jokes, it was carefree. It was relaxing to have people this easy to talk to. 
The only thing that wasn’t relaxing was the amount of times you caught Bucky staring at you. Everyone had migrated to the floor with their backs against different furniture so you could break out the board games, Bucky was sitting adjacent to you on your right and Steve adjacent on your left, Nat right in front. Every single move whether it be placing a card down or moving your little object around the board Bucky would find a reason to look at you. 
“Good one,” he’d pat your shoulder. 
“Let me move your piece for you,” he’d say before you could reach across the table. 
“Sorry…” he’d smile before taking your little object and moving it back four spots. 
He was very attentive, always watching and scanning. But the more you noticed it the more you figured out he was doing it to everyone, including Steve. Something happened whenever Bucky would either move Steve’s piece for him or go get another beer so he wouldn’t have to stand up, Steve would give this look. It seemed as though he was silently telling Bucky he knew something or he was pointing something out that had been a topic of conversation before. Bucky would try to laugh it off but Steve was very protective of Bucky, you just didn’t know why. 
The games had slowly come to a close, everyone not drunk but a little more than tipsy. Giggles flowed freely around the table as the conversation resumed again, your eyes were growing heavy as you traced the rim of your glass. 
“I’ll be back,” Bucky muttered as he headed to the washroom. 
The moment the door closed Steve sighed, “this kid.” 
“What?” you were getting protective, why was Steve about to talk shit about his best friend? 
Steve just shook his head, “It’s hard to see how badly Winnie fucked him up.” 
Your heart plummeted. Any tiredness had left your body faster than the little gasp escaped your lips. Who was this Winnie girl and why did he mess Bucky up? The thoughts circled your head, was he in an abusive relationship? Natasha looked like she didn’t know either, pouring more wine into her cup. 
When Bucky came back he sat closer to you and you couldn’t help but reach out and wrapped your arm around his. He must have been a little surprised but you rested your head on his shoulder and continued on like it was nothing. 
You were half asleep when Bucky tried to do something for Steve, maybe get him another beer but whatever it was it left Bucky looking like a sad puppy because Steve said, “Buck, relax, I can get my beers, thank you, but I got it, alright?”
Steve's tone was soft but also commanding, he wasn’t annoyed at all. With your eyes closed you pieced it together that Steve was trying to help Bucky in some way, maybe get him to relax a little more. It was out of love but Bucky was very quiet for the rest of the night. 
********
You and Bucky had started hanging out a lot more on your own. There were a lot of late night drives or study sessions, Bucky always came to the library to walk you home if you stayed late or had turned your brain into mush during your studying. 
What Steve had said stuck with you more than you thought it would, it didn’t impact how you saw Bucky but it made you more aware of his people pleasing tendencies. You wanted to do the same as Steve, tell him it was okay but you weren’t as close. You saw how hurt he was the last time and you just couldn’t do it to him. 
Currently you were both sitting on his bed, the movie was wrapping up. Half of his laptop sat on one thigh and the other half sat on Bucky’s, your arms were linked and there was a steady brushing of your thumb on his forearm. In all honesty, you thought you were lulling him to sleep when you looked up five minutes ago to see him fighting his dropping lids. 
When the movie faded to black both of you sat there for a moment, content with the sitcom that was coming up next. You looked up again to see him with his face scrunched up, his other hand was on his back. 
“What is it?” you asked and leaned over, he was rubbing a specific spot on his lower back with his thumb. 
Bucky held his breath as he leaned forward to move his hand, “I was working out this morning and there weren't any belts left for my deadlifts and I did something to my back.”
“Do you want a massage?” you offered, he’d do the same for you. 
“I’m okay, thanks,” he looked down at your head resting on his bicep. 
“I didn’t know you worked out,” you smiled, “you don’t have the, like, bodybuilder physique.”
Bucky laughed and wiped at his eyes, giggling to himself before answering. “I don’t want that look, but…” you could see the boast on the top of his tongue, he poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek. 
“Tell me!” you sat up, taking the laptop off your lap so you could fully face him now, “are you, like, ripped or something?” you both laughed as he hugged himself so you couldn’t feel or see anything, “you are, shut up!” you placed both hands on his shoulders, his face so red from laughing and embarrassment you just wanted to take a bite out of it. 
“Steve calls it a sleeper build,” Bucky managed to wheeze out, he was trying to play-fight you off of him. 
“What the fuck is that?!” you gasped as your hands reached out but he copied you and intertwined his fingers with yours. 
“It’s when someone has muscle but you can’t really see it in normal clothing,” his face was calming down as well, but that stupid smile was still on his face. “It just kinda happened, just how I am.”
You tried to move his arms around but you couldn’t, his fingers were still tightly woven with yours. You just laughed and fell back into him, cuddling up again. “I had a friend's mom who was an actual masseuse, so…” you shrugged, “I actually know what I’m doing because she’d give me massages and walk me through her process.”
“You just want to take my shirt off, don’t you?” Bucky taunted. 
“I want to make sure you’re not uncomfortable the entire time we hang out and for the rest of the week,” you giggled before snuggling into his arm again and watching the show that had come on randomly. 
It took three days before Bucky came back for that massage. 
You were hanging out again like normal and he was still trying to relieve the ache in his lower back. It was becoming sad to see him so uncomfortable so you kept reminding him of your excellent massage skills. After what you counted as his third groan of pain you just looked at him and soon enough he was asking you to turn around so he could take his shirt off and lie down. 
Choosing your angle to stand with your back to him was a science, you wanted to make sure you had the mirror to look at but you also didn’t want to make it obvious. Part of you hated yourself for wanting to catch and peek at his body but it was infamous now, you just had to look. 
And my god was it worth it. 
It wasn't an obnoxious amount of muscle that made it seem like the strength drained from his brain and into his arms. The sleeper build comment was right, you had no idea. His chest made you feel comfortable and protected, the kind of chest you’d want to fall into when the subway starts up too quick and you’re not holding onto anything. His arms were, and you already knew this, amazing at covering so much surface area for hugs. They were secure and trustworthy, you knew that when you hugged him he had you; it also helped to remember when he’d whisper it in your ear. 
“Okay,” his voice was muffled by pillows at the top of your bed. 
You turned around and were greeted by his back which was also an amazing sight, the kind of body sculptors would use and their go-to subject if no one else was there. “I have some lotion on my hands,” you warned and pressed your palms onto his back and quickly began spreading the lotion around. 
Though this wasn’t a proper table and he was resting on one cheek instead of face down you knew this was the best he’d get for a college kid. You started all over and slowly worked your way to focusing on his lower back. When you felt the knot you knew you found it, the thing was massive. The low groan Bucky let out was close to pornographic as you dug into him. 
Something about seeing him grip the sheets, making his veins pop out, did something to you. At first you only really saw Bucky as another friend or a good member of the friend group you stumbled your way into. But the more you spent one-on-one the more you realized he was your perfect guy. Any guy can be perfect physically but his personality enhanced your view for him, it made you appreciate his looks even more. 
His laugh always brought out the crinkle in his nose and those pretty teeth, the sound of him giggling was music to your ears and also was the perfect accompaniment to his squinted eyes or broad smile. The same with his little fist pumps he does when beating you at a game either around a group of friends of a video game, that stupid celebration he does every time causes him to flex his bicep but that’s secondary to the little circles he makes with his fist.  
You kept working away and looking at his rested face once in a while, seeing his eyes closed and the relieved look on his face. There was something so pure about watching the guy your slowly obsession over fall into simple relaxation all because of you, it was a treat. 
“How’s that?” you whisper, “Bucky?” trying to make sure your pressure wasn’t too hard for him you wanted to check in, but he had fallen asleep. With the opportunity in front of you, you reached out and placed your bent knuckles along his cheek, feeling the stubble tickle your fingers. 
You found him blanket on his bed and covered him up so he wouldn’t get cold with his shirt off, before leaving you placed a kiss on his forehead before heading downstairs for a snack. You also wanted to give him space, let him sleep peacefully. 
Steve was down there when you got there, another roommate of his cooking as you found Bucky’s section of snacks to choose from. 
“Where’s Bucky?” Steve asked as he looked over his shoulder, not for long due to the football playing on the TV. 
“Sleeping upstairs,” you ate the goldfish as you rounded the couch to watch the game. 
He seemed taken aback at your casualness, “what did you guys do…?” he slowly looked over, most likely trying to see if your hair was disheveled or anything was blossoming on your neck. 
“I gave him a massage,” you shrugged and fell back onto the couch, “his lower back has been killing from his workout a while ago.” 
You could see Steve look over his shoulder to see if his roommate was also hearing this, he looked over at you again and squinted. “So- and correct me if I’m wrong here- you gave Bucky a massage and put him to sleep and now you’re down here getting a snack?” 
“You would be correct,” you smiled, “would you like to do a once over of my neck for hickies or maybe rummage through the trash for condoms?” you sassed and plopped a few more goldfish in your mouth, “I was helping him.” 
That statement made Steve look over his shoulder again. The roommate just shrugged with a smile before heading down to his room in the basement, noodles steaming from the cup. You just looked at Steve as he tried to piece together everything, it was actually funny to see him try to understand. 
“Bucky doesn’t accept help from anyone,” Steve turned to face you, “it’s his thing to never want to be in debt with anyone when it comes to favours of any sort.” 
“Well,” you just sighed, “I’ve been picking up on that too but I got to him I guess, he let me do something for him.” That was all you could say because you didn’t have a full background of why Bucky didn’t accept help from anyone you just knew he didn’t; the only clues you had were Winnie and her role in this. 
“That’s good,” Steve quickly added, “I’m far from saying it’s bad, trust me, it’s just he’s been in a funk for a while when it comes to that stuff, it ebbs and flows.” 
“Do you think he’ll ever tell me?” you asked as you watched the game, too embarrassed of the question to look at Steve. It seemed there was this vital piece of information that made Bucky who he was that was dangling right in front of your face, you were falling for him but that thing that made him him was out of reach. When Steve first made the statement he siad that this Winnie girl fucked him up which implied something bad much have happened and that can also mean something isn’t necessarily right. You were never going to fix Bucky but you did want to understand so you could help be a better friend to him and not unconsciously get in the way of his mindset. 
Steve nodded, “he’ll definitely tell you,” he looked over and smiled, “I mean, you’re all he ever talks about, this kid is head over heels for you  it’s just…some guys have hard times coming to terms with their past, he’ll get there though.” 
“I know,” you nodded, “I’ll obviously never force it out but I do want him to be aware I’m here to listen, y’know?” 
“He knows,” Steve laughed and stood up, going to the cupboard and grabbing a little snack for himself as well. 
You took a deep breath before standing up and heading back upstairs, you were guessing Bucky was still fast asleep. When you opened the door you found him still laying on his bed in the exact same position, only now there was little snores coming from him. 
With a pout you crawled back onto the bed and sat next to him, placing your hand on his back and sliding it down to his arm that was bent up so his hands could rest under the pillow. Your thumb gently rubbed his arm for a moment before pulling out your phone and scrolling through it. 
The boredom ate away at you, instead of scrolling through your phone you went to his dresser to find some clothes you could change into so you could crawl under his sheets and sleep over. When you pulled open his top drawer you were met with his underwear and socks as well as a box of condoms tucked to the side, you just giggled to yourself at the painfully college male sight in front of you. 
Something about wearing his boxers made your face heat up, that was a level of intimacy you wanted to reach with him one day but you didn’t know if it was time. Looking over your shoulder after a particularly loud snore you smiled to yourself and picked up a black pair, as you held it up you remember seeing the waistband sticking out of his jeans while he reached above his head to grab something for someone - you weren’t focused on his actions at the time. 
Quickly slipping your pants off and pulling up the boxers you maneuvered to his closet, finding your favourite hoodie he wore very often. This moment of intimacy, moving around Bucky’s room while he wasn’t aware, caused a surge of confidence to shoot through you. Though you had never talked to Bucky about what the relationship between you was, you knew both of you could agree there was no room for girlfriends or boyfriends for either of you, this was the time to build the foundation for something better later. Having this idea of only being the girl in his room you took off your bralette and tucked it back in his top drawer, across from the condoms.
You didn’t choose this bra specifically but you were wearing a slightly lacey bralette, it was far from lingerie but the lace added something to it. Making sure you put it where it wouldn’t be obvious but also not hiding it, you grew giddy at the image of Bucky finding it. 
Before getting in his bed you tugged and tugged the sheets under his body before managing to get the covers fully out from under him. You scooted in and pulled the sheets up to cover both of you, it seemed he really needed the sleep because nothing was waking him up, not even the little hug you gave him before turning off the lights and falling asleep beside him. 
********
You were sitting in class aimlessly scrolling through your phone during your five minute break in your lesson, your art history professor was one of the best teachers you've ever had. She was funny but also well informed, she also had a big heart and didn’t need a eulogy as a form of proof if someone asked for an extension due to a funeral service that day. 
Bucky: What the hell is in my dresser? 
Without knowing the tone or context your heart dropped. You read the text with Bucky’s voice as if he was screaming at you, a hint of embarrassment in his tone. It was in your head, you didn’t know if it was a flirty tone either. 
You: Just my bra, when I stayed over a couple of nights ago I changed into your clothes and just absentmindedly put my bra in your top drawer. I probably was just going through the motions and thought I was at my place. 
Bucky: Can I pick you up from class, when does your lecture end?
Something about him completely disregarding your explanation - lie or not - gave you the worst feeling in the world. Ice poured down your back as you watched your prof make her way back up to the little stage she teaches on, you couldn’t keep the conversation going and just needed to deal with it later. 
You: sure, it ends in an hour. 
Bucky: I’ll be there. 
Part of you didn’t want to leave when your lecture was over, you stayed in the hallway for a moment and thought of every single end of the world situation that could happen in the car. Bucky didn’t seem like a guy who hit women but your anxiety didn’t let you leave out that thought. He also didn’t seem like the guy who’d reveal he’d been dating another girl the entire time but who knows, he could be in a three year long relationship as you stood there. 
With all these terrible situations playing out in your head you decided to face it head on, you’d walk in there and wouldn’t let him talk; just saying your apologies with your eyes closed before he could get a word out. 
You walked down the steps and to the right to find Bucky’s car parked in front, coming up in the blindspot. You took a moment to take a deep breath, opening the door and sitting down as quickly as possible. 
“Do you-”
“Bucky,” you put your hand out but kept your eyes casted down, “I am so unbelievably sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I don’t know if you already have a girlfriend and she found it and it caused a rift in your relationship, or if you like to sleep with other girls and one of them found the bra and got jealous so you lost your credit. I don’t know what made you angry but please, I am so sorry for what I did, I wasn’t thinking and I just put it in there and I-...” you just held your mouth open as you looked at the center console, you had run out of things to say. “Um,” you slowly looked up to see him frozen in shock, mouth still slightly open from when he began to say something, “sorry, you were about to say something?” 
Bucky had to physically rattle his head to get out of the shock he was in, “do you want to get some coffee?” 
Your eyes flicked up and it was your turn to stay frozen, “what?” 
Bucky pulled his brows together, “I was making a joke about the bra thing,” he seemed concerned at your extremely anxious state, “I don’t care what you leave at my place, I really don’t,” normally someone would laugh in awkward situations but Bucky didn’t, it felt like it made everything worse. “Do you want coffee?” 
“What is going on?” you couldn’t believe the situation you had put yourself in, nothing was making sense. 
“Don’t get all mad at me,” now it was time for him to scoff, “you’re the one that thought I was sleeping with multiple women while I’m actively pursuing you, you idiot.” 
“Don’t call me an idiot,” you huffed and faced the front of the car, crossing your arms after putting on your seatbelt. 
Bucky laughed as he reached over and turned your face so you’d look at him, “that’s what you took from that statement?” He giggled, “babe, I just said I was pursuing you, does that just fly over your head?” 
“Wait, what?” you grew more interested, “you want to date me?” 
Bucky nodded, “have I not made it obvious?” You just shrugged and began to feel small, curling yourself further into the seat of his car, “I would like to take you out and I would like to continue to collect little pieces of you at my place while doing the same to yours, does that make sense?” 
“Then what were those condoms for?” 
“The same reason our house keeps tampons in our main bathroom,” Bucky put the car in drive and began working towards to coffee shop, “if you ever need a tampon you go and grab one, if Steve ever needs a condom and he’s out of stock in his room he comes to me,” Bucky looked at you at the stop light. 
“Oh,” was all you could say. 
“But let me get a few things straight,” Bucky placed his hand on your thigh, “I’m not sleeping with other girls, I do not have a secret girlfriend, I am not mad you left your bra in my dresser and I tried to make the text seem flirty, and finally,” he went at the green, “I really like you and I would like you to be my girl whenever we get there.” 
“Okay,” you whispered, “I’d like that too.” 
“Then it’s settled,” it was a short drive to the cafe, “let’s celebrate over coffee, shall we?” 
You looked down at his hand on your thigh, “yeah, we shall.” 
********
Your body felt like it was floating, your legs tingled and it was hard to catch your breath. As you laid on your back with your hands on your bare stomach Bucky worked his way back up from between your legs while leaving kisses on your hip bones as well as your stomach when you lifted your hands. 
“How was that?” Bucky asked breathlessly, licking his lips before kissing you. 
You kept your answer waiting, probably because he knew it already, kissing him slowly as he wanted. He was fully in control right now, setting the pace and tone of this entire afternoon. When he pulled away for a moment you complimented him like always, your hands reached up to his shoulders and tried to push him to lay on his back but he stayed strong. 
“Flip over,” you whispered and ran your hands down his chiseled stomach, working your way up to his shoulders as your fingernails raked up his back. 
“I’m all good,” he shrugged. 
“But you’re painfully hard,” you tried again to get him to move but he just fell beside you on his stomach, not allowing you to touch him where he was in fact, extremely hard. “Come on, you always do this.” 
“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled and pulled you down with him. 
“I just want to do something nice for you, you never let me do anything for you or give you any favours,” in your head it seemed like a normal observation, it was true that Bucky didn’t let anyone do anything for him while he actively tried to help everyone in anyway he knew how. 
That seemingly struck a nerve, “alright then,” he sighed and got up from the bed, heading into the bathroom as he left you naked and alone on his bed, the most lonesome feelings in the world. 
“Where are you going?” you sat up, grabbing your shirt from the edge of the bed. 
“Going to go jerk off in the shower,” he said as he closed the door. 
“You can’t be serious,” you quickly stood and made your way to the bathroom that was connected to his room. You opened the door to see him already adjusting the tap before starting the shower. “Bucky, it’s the truth, it’s who you are but it’s the truth and as your girlfriend I want you to feel good, I want to give you pleasure like you do to me.” 
You reached forward and placed your hands on his back, slowly working your way to his shoulders so you could turn him around. There looked like shame had overtaken him as he stood before you, though he was larger in size he shrunk himself down to look small. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, he didn’t know what to say. 
“If I can’t give you head then can I come in the shower and wash your hair?” you didn’t even put on the shirt you grabbed, it was dropped to the floor. “Come on, honey, it’ll feel so good.” 
Bucky only nodded before stepping into the hot shower with you. You made sure he got most of the stream on him, you stayed in front and made sure his hair was soaked before getting any product. You could see his tenseness at first but the moment your hands made contact with his scalp his eyes rolled back, his shoulders relaxed. In that moment it occurred to you that you had actually never seen his relaxed state before. 
“Doesn’t this feel good?” you whispered, making sure you used your nails to really cleanse his scalp. “Doesn’t letting yourself relax and breathe feel so good, Buck?” 
“Yeah,” it came out quiet and broken. 
Your eyes were focused on his hair the entire time, making sure you lathered up and took your time. You needed to savor this moment for both you and Bucky, you wanted him to be relaxed for a s long as possible as well as taking advantage of doing him a favour; never knowing when your next opportunity would come up. 
Gently tapped his forehead, you got him to lean back. The water immediately took off the top layer of suds but you needed to rub out the deeper layers as well. Your fingers scrubbed until the trail of water rolling down his body was pure water and had no shampoo in it. 
“I’m going to- oh, my gosh Bucky,” you reached out and saw his red eyes, “when did you start crying?” 
“I can’t remember,” he whispered and tilted his head down, the water pushed his hair to cover his eyes. 
You pushed his hair back and pulled him out a step further so the water hit his back, your thumbs quickly wiped away a mixture of water and tears off of his face. He couldn’t stop crying as you tried your best to keep his face clear, “honey, what’s wrong?” 
��I-” he choked on his own words, “I’ve never let my guard down this much,” he admitted before breaking off into harder sobs, you swooped in and pulled him tightly against your chest. 
“I know it’s a new feeling,” you whispered, “but I want you to be able to do this all the time, let your guard down around me,” it was a shot in the dark by saying this but you did it anyways, “I promise I won’t hurt you, I’ll never take advantage of your guard down, love.” 
It must have struck something because his knees buckled, his hands gripped tighter as he desperately kept you close to him. You didn’t know if you were making him feel better or worse but the act of letting go was needed for him, you kept holding him until there was nothing left to cry. 
When he pulled away he stayed close, close enough that you kissed him under the gentle rain of the shower and played with his hair at the base of his scalp. His hands stayed on your back and held you close to him, making sure you were always touching him in some way. You tried to get a good read on him but he kept his head low and gently ran his hands up and down your sides, just feeling you. 
“You’re very safe,” you whispered. 
Bucky looked up at you for a moment before keeping his eyes down for a while, his brows pulled together and it seemed like he was trying to say something but didn’t know how. Both of you were open and vulnerable, naked in the hot shower. Tears threatened to spill over at the picture of Bucky crying in front of you. 
“It was my mom,” Bucky whispered, “the one who broke me-”
“You’re not broken,” you quickly corrected, cupping his face and stroking his cheek with your thumb, “don’t say that.” 
Bucky just shrugged, “I’m the oldest, I have four sisters younger than me - all different dads.” Bucky took a deep breath and pulled you closer, “my mom…Winnie was an interesting woman who never wanted to be pregnant but somehow always ended up pregnant anyways, it also didn’t help none of the guys wanted to stick around.” 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him the easy opportunity to hug you if he needed to. Nodding along, you encouraged him to keep going. 
“When my mom realized I could do the dirty work she would take advantage of that. I basically raised my sisters and somehow she managed to worm into my head,” he let out an angry laugh, “she’d say she loved me if I did things for her and I was a bad boy if I couldn’t or wouldn’t help her, she would say I didn’t love her if I didn’t change my sister’s diapers or bathe them while she sat on the couch.” 
“Bucky,” you were the one to instigate the hug, “that’s awful.” 
“And I’m aware of how I act now, all I’ve ever known is helping other people to make sure they love me,” he laughed again, “and it sounds stupid but I can never break out of the cycle, I always think I’m doing a good job or not being overbearing but then I start to second guess myself, you know?” he pulled away and looked at you, you quickly nodded. “I start to think about what people are saying behind my back and so I keep doing what I’m doing to stay on the safe side, I know it’s fucking annoying but I can’t help it.” 
“It’s not annoying, baby” you leaned past him and turned off the water as it grew cold, “and if you’ll let me I can help with that, I don’t want to fix you or change you, I just want you to be comfortable in this relationship and not think I’m secretly mad at you because you didn’t get me a glass of water.” 
Bucky nodded, stepped out of the shower with you and grabbed two towels. The conversation had naturally ended, Bucky didn’t have anything else to say. It was hard not to think he was overthinking again, the idea that you were causing him to stress out stressed you out. You were being truthful when you said you wanted him to be relaxed in this relationship, the last thing you wanted was underlying tension. 
Back in bed Bucky rolled over and cuddled into your breasts, holding you closely as you watched his head rise with your breath. You had no idea if he was asleep or not, you knew he wouldn’t mind either way if you played with his hair. 
“Thank you,” was all he whispered before falling asleep. 
********
You all sat around the couch to watch another big game. Though you had no idea what was going on you were just as into it as Steve. Half time had just started and you all took a collective breath, the two college teams were close. 
“Want another beer?” you asked as you stood up, looking at Bucky who was sitting on the couch. Steve and Nat had already filled up, you wanted another cooler and Bucky was almost done. 
“Yeah,” he quickly downed his final sip of beer before handing the bottle off to you. 
There was this anticipation in the room, you smiled and took the bottle and walked past Steve who was already looking at Bucky. The room seemed still when Bucky didn’t move, just pulling out his phone to look at something while the commercials played. Before making it into the kitchen you looked over your shoulder and saw the back of Bucky’s head, you bit your lip to suppress the smile that was growing. 
The moment you got back and sat next to him Bucky took your hand and pulled it into his lap. He fidgeted with your finger before looking over at you, “how’d I do?” he whispered. 
You laughed and leaned into his side, “how much did that make your cringe?” 
“I was in pain for a moment,” he answered as fast as possible before giggling with you as you clink your glasses together and take a long swing. With a deep breath he looked back at the game and kept your hand in his. Bucky must have not been paying attention but his phone buzzed, illuminating and accidentally showing his lockscreen. 
It changed from the photo of the two of you to a black background with white writing on it: 
Trust me, she’s not mad at you.
********
Thanks for reading, feel free to reblog and tell me what you think!
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4K notes · View notes
literaila · 6 months
Note
I'd love to request a reader who's obsessed with love languages (me fr) and is trying to figure out what peter's is without directly asking him
obviously r gets caught in the act
Thank you so much!!
-🔮
stalemate
tasm!peter x reader
warnings: teasing, fluff, complex relationship issues (lying)
a/n: i do believe peter’s love language is physical touch/words of affirmation but that’s a conversation for a different time
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*
“would you rather run errands with someone and hold hands, or run errands with someone and get kicked out of the store cause you’re ‘disturbing the other customers?’”
peter momentarily pauses his chewing, raising an eyebrow at you. “one of these scenarios involves me getting escorted out of the grocery store.”
“yeah, but because you’re having too much fun.”
he shakes his head. “no such thing.”
“clearly, there is.”
he rifles through the remainder of his food, like digging for gold, but his cheek is twitching, and his eyes are thoughtful as he looks down. “why cant i have fun and hold hands with you?”
“okay,” you point at him, leaning back. peter, though you’d put his food across the kitchen table, so you could sit face to face, was adamant that you were too far. so now there’s only a table corner separating the two of you. and these questions, of course, building up a careful foundation. “first of all, i didn’t say it was me—“
“who else would get us kicked out of a grocery store?”
“and second of all, because that’s not the question. holding hands or ribs-hurt laughing?”
“both of those sound equally painful,” peter keeps leaning towards you like he knows something you don’t. which he doesn’t.
you lean forward too, undeterred by his challenge. “so you’re a completely-silent-errand-running-with-a-healthy-five-foot-distance kinda guy?”
“we literally went shopping today.” peter gestures back to the kitchen, where bags of produce and sugary containers (peter’s pickings) remain. after dinner, you’d both swore, but you’re having a hard time finishing your food. “you know what kinda guy i am.”
so it goes, on and on. you asking peter the same type of hypothetical questions you’d been all day. he hasn’t seemed to question it, besides a couple of ill-fated looks.
and you do. know, that is. peter did almost get you kicked out of the store today, when he’d tripped over a sign and knocked down a whole shelf of boxes. this, he claimed, was the crime of a faulty layout. though, he’d bumped into the sign in the first place because he refused to let go of your hand, even when it was less than conscientious.
this, though, you don’t bring up.
“if i bought you a gift,” you continue, ignoring his carefully planned out bantering techniques. “would you want something expensive, or something heart-felt?”
“why is that a question?”
you stare at him, nonchalant, gesturing for him to continue.
“are you buying me a gift?” he asks, rolling his eyes at you.
“maybe. your birthday’s coming up.”
“it is november,” he says, dryly.
“good memory.”
peter snorts. “my birthday is in august. you know, like, two months ago?”
“hmm…” you lean your chin on a hand, staring into hard honeysuckle eyes with feigned confusion. “i must’ve missed it.”
“you got me a spider-man calendar.”
“don’t recall.”
“i can go get it,” he points over his shoulder, leaning, again, towards you. enough so that you can feel his breath, smooth and challenging. “it’s just in the bedroom.”
“answer the question.”
he sighs and leans back again, almost laughing. “heartfelt, obviously. like my very cherished spider-man calendar. which is for this year, i might add.”
“what a wonderful gift,” you smile too, adoringly, “you should thank whoever got it for you.”
peter furrows his brows, though not in confusion. “i did,” he says, softly, trying to break you.
but you remain where you are, smiling as cool as you’ve been all day.
which is to say, of course, that you’ve been dancing circles around peter and hoping that he hasn’t noticed.
you hadn’t even thought of it until two days ago, when out to lunch with your friend and she mentioned a book—fabled and probably recommended by some hot-shot magazine—about how to connect with your partner.
“love languages,” she’d said to you, “are the basis to every relationship.”
and this must have been true because despite a rough patch between her and her girlfriend, they were now as solid as always. and you could tell this, just from how at ease she’d seemed.
which, naturally, put you on edge.
not that you doubted peter, or your relationship with him. besides some run of the mill insecurities, peter was probably the loveliest person you’d ever met. so it was probably a bad thing that you had no clue—not a single suspicion, or thought—what his love language was.
thus, the questions began. and peter’s dubiousness doubled with every one you asked.
evident because he was still watching you. “are we acting out a scenario in which you need a visa and i agree to marry you?”
you kick him under the table. “what? i cant ask you questions?”
“i think this is the fortieth one today.”
“i’ve asked, like, three, and you haven’t even tried to answer any of them properly.”
“you know we’re in a real relationship, right? i know your favorite color and everything.”
you stand up from the table, grabbing your take-out container, and his, and walking to the kitchen.
peter trails after you, clearly noticing your evasion. “do you actually need a visa?” he asks, leaning against a counter, almost knocking over one of the grocery bags. “cause i think you’re supposed to tell the person you’re getting married to. so i can ask you some questions.”
“doesn’t seem like you’re having any problems with that.”
peter snorts and comes behind you while you grab something out of the first bag. his hands are warm as they wrap around your waist, resting on your stomach like a possession. “what’s up with you?”
“i’m unbagging the groceries.”
“you’ve been acting weird all day. do you need to talk to me about something?”
“no.” you pull away from him, putting some apples in the fruit bowl. “you’re crazy.”
“yes. i am the crazy one.”
you hum and walk around him, carefully not meeting his eyes.
after a couple minutes of this, with peter pretending to put things away, you break, uncomfortable with the silence.
“painting a room together,” you start, “or cuddling?”
peter pushes off of the counter, his teeth peaking behind his lips. “cuddling, obviously. you’re a terrible painter.”
he moves about a foot away from you, staring, again, like he knows something you don’t.
“what?” you ask him, closing a drawer. you cross your arms.
“nothing. nothing.”
but peter is grinning at you.
“what’s with your face?”
“what’s with yours?”
you roll your eyes at him, not moving. peter copies your stance, and the two of you remain as still as statues, testing one another.
finally, peter laughs. “you think i don’t know what you’re doing?”
“posing hypothetical questions?”
“i know what love languages are, baby,” peter steps closer to you. his hands just lingering by the seam of your shirt. “you’d make a terrible detective.”
despite the heat running through your body at being caught, you narrow your eyes at him. “me? it only took you all day to figure it out.”
“that’s cause i was giving you the benefit of the doubt. i thought you really wanted to know.”
“i do,” you cross your arms, bumping into him, offended. “i would’ve given up like three hours ago if i didn’t.”
“you’re crazy,” he says, simply. his look is amorous. “you could’ve just asked me.”
“no. i should know just from spending time with you. that’s couple 101.”
peter actually laughs. right in your face. he leans down, resting his chin against your head for support. “cant say i’ve ever taken that class.”
“well you should. it’s very informative.”
“okay, professor, then what’s my love language?”
you open your mouth. then close it. you push him back. “i’m not telling you.”
“oh,” peter tilts his head. “why not?”
“cause that’s cheating. figure out your own love language.”
“you think i don’t know what i like?”
“nope.”
peter shakes his head at you. “you just don’t know.”
“you just don’t know,” you poke his cheek. “you couldn’t even decide which cereal to get. we have three boxes now.”
“that’s called choice paralysis,” he informs you, as if you didn’t have this conversation earlier. “and you agreed to that.”
“sure,” you say to him, turning away.
“you’re a sore loser.”
“we’re not playing a game.”
“the elaborate ‘would you rather’ scheme wasn’t a game?” he asks.
“it was an informative questionnaire.”
peter gets in your way as you try to walk out of the kitchen. “then why hasn’t it informed you?”
you roll your eyes at him again. “c’mon, peter, you know that data can take weeks to process.”
he runs a hand up to your face, easily trapping you. “you just don’t know” he repeats softly.
he’s getting close again; resuming the game he’d lost earlier.
“you don’t know,” you say, stubbornly, not meeting his eyes.
“i know i like you,” he answers, breath marring your reaction skills.
and before you can even smile in response, peter is kissing you.
his lips are soft, pushing at you like he wants you to admit defeat. consoling you into a loss. convincing you to back down.
but you refuse.
you pull away, pushing his hand off of you. “that’s cheating.”
“we never set any rules.”
“well you’re breaking one.”
peter leans and let’s it go, crossing his arms as he looks at you, very arrogantly. “that’s okay,” he shrugs.
you attempt to catch your breath while peter stares at you, clearly thinking that he’s won.
“okay,” you say, pouting. “tell me. what’s your love language?”
peter smiles voraciously at this. he takes a step towards you, molding his body heat into yours.
then he shakes his head, his smile falling into something sweeter. “i don’t know,” he whispers to you, hand reaching down for yours, hair in his eyes. “physical touch, probably, before. but i like everything with you. i always want more, doesn’t matter what it is.”
you brush the hair out of his eyes, smiling.
though your intents are less than straightforward, there’s still a part of you that curls under this confession, like it just can’t take it.
“that’s sweet,” you whisper, leaning into him. he’s bent down so his nose is to yours.
peter hums, breathing in the smell of your skin, and pulling you closer and he stands there, lingering on the briefest of touches.
he tilts his head a bit, lips lined up with yours.
and you smile. “i’m not telling you mine,” you whisper to him, quickly pulling away and moving to the table, whistling as you do so.
you start to collect the trash you’d left there, hearing nothing for a moment, but peter’s heavy breathing.
you smile at the sound of his defeat.
“now that’s cheating,” he says, and you laugh.
*
1K notes · View notes
niningtori · 21 days
Text
make you cry | part one
part two | part three: hyuka's ending
pairing: beomgyu x you, huening kai x you in alternate ending
summary: beomgyu is your manwhore best friend who you've been secretly in love with for years. one night, he asks you to blur the lines between friendship and physical intimacy for his own convenience.
genre: ANGST, romance, smut (mdni), fwb
warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, dom!gyu, eventual sub!gyu, fingering (vaginal), dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!
word count: 4.2k
notes: hi friends! i'm not completely satisfied with this, but i'd rather it be done than sitting in my drafts. pls don't be mean ;_;
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being in love with your best friend is not for the faint of heart, you think. in some cases, it’s the easiest thing in the world, but beomgyu makes it difficult. he’s not a bad guy, at least not deep down, but as you watch him break the heart of another notch in his belt, you can’t help but shiver at the fact that he’d very easily do the same to you if you gave him that chance. not that you ever will, that is, but the thought still remains.
you met in grade school. for you, it was a classic case of love at first sight. you had just fallen off the swingset and the teacher had yet to notice you, so you were crying alone when he came up to you with a dinosaur bandaid in tow. he looked like an angel with the sun encircling him, and even as a child, you thought he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen as he held his little hand out for you to grasp. you had no chance to steel your heart when he asked you if you wanted to be friends, and after that, the rest is history. 
that was years ago, but the image of him holding out his hand is engraved in your bones. you think about it even now as you watch him make the poor, unfortunate girl in front of you bawl like a baby. she asks him why he's doing this, what she did wrong, how she can fix it to make him stay. but he's dead set on breaking her heart tonight. and you'll be the one who takes his tipsy ass home after he's done ruining this girl’s perception of love. you’re nothing more than a glorified lackey and enabler, but that's just how it is.
“god, i don’t know why they can never just let go. they always have to make it so hard,” he grumbles in the passenger’s seat of your car. he seems more annoyed than genuinely upset and you can’t help but to feel for the girl who he just unceremoniously dumped in the middle of a house party, so you speak up for once.
“it’s not her fault, beoms. she just really likes you,” you reason. not that it matters, anyway, but you feel better after speaking your mind.
“so it’s my fault? i just don’t get it. i told her no strings attached from the beginning. the fact that she took it seriously is her own problem.” well, nevermind about feeling better. you feel even worse for her now.
“it’s hard not to get attached to you,” you mumble.
“what?” he asks, not even really paying attention to what you’re saying, but still asking for the sake of being (what he thinks is) polite.
“no, it’s nothing,” you reply quickly.
“mmm,” he nods, completely preoccupied with his own issues to really give a fuck about what you have to say. then, as if by a stroke of genius, he says his next words without much thought.
“i just thought of something! you would never act like that with me, would you?” you can’t help but scowl. of course you’d act like that. you’re a normal human being with normal feelings. you’ve already fallen for beomgyu without the physical intimacy, so you can’t imagine how you’d act if you actually had sex with him. but you can’t tell him that, or else he’d start suspecting something.
“i guess not,” you sigh. 
“then why don’t we hook up instead?” he asks, genuinely earnest. 
“no,” you say simply.
“why not?” he frowns, somewhat offended.
“i’m not interested,” you shrug. you don’t realize that your indifference has the opposite effect on beomgyu. what he perceives as your disgust only interests him more.
“c’mon, i’d definitely show you a good time,” he argues.
“i’m fine, thanks.” 
“no, you’re not fine. you haven’t slept with anybody in months. not since what’s-his-name, right? it’s the perfect deal. i’ll give you the time of your life and i’ll get to fuck without any feelings involved.” you try your hardest not to say it’s too late for that. those words will never leave your mouth, though. or else he’d drop you like a hot potato.
“i said no and i mean no. besides, i kind of like somebody right now.” you’re not lying, really. you truly do like, even love, somebody right now, and he’s sitting right next to you.
“who is he?” he asks. “actually, your taste in men is so shit, i don't even wanna know.” usually, that would hurt your feelings, but this whole situation is so fucked up you can’t even find it in you to stifle your laugh. 
“true.” he cocks an eyebrow at your answer. you should, in theory, vehemently deny this. just how shitty is this guy for you to not even put up a fight? 
“okay, i lied. now i really wanna know. who is he? yeonjun?” he asks. you giggle even more.
“no. yeonjun is sweet, but no. and i’m not telling you, so you should give up.” 
“you think yeonjun is sweet in comparison? damn, this guy must be fucking scum,” he laughs. you can’t help but shake your head with an airy laugh of your own. yeah, he’s so awful he even makes yeonjun look sweet. at least it seems like yeonjun has a conscience when he fucks somebody over. beomgyu, for the most part, has none.
“he’s not all bad,” you say softly, still smiling and resting your head on the headrest of your car. 
“but still bad,” he argues. 
“mhmm,” you hum. “still bad.”
-
beomgyu doesn’t mention hooking up again after that, and for that you are thankful, you think. is there a part of you that regrets not saying yes? in a way, you do. who wouldn’t want to be even closer to the one they love? but you know the closeness would be a lie. even if you were in closer proximity physically, he’d still be far away emotionally. too far to ever catch him. and so you sit at the counter of this shitty bar and watch him try to woo one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen, and by the looks of it, it’s working. you smile bitterly and down another shot, making your stomach feel hotter and hotter. you know that by the end of the night, you’ll feel sick, but you’d rather be physically sick and drunk rather than emotionally sick and sober. 
“you okay?” kai asks, sliding into the seat next to yours and cutting into your daze with ease. 
“aren’t i always?” you answer with a wry smile.
“it’s that bad, huh?” he asks. beomgyu is your best friend, sure, but kai is the only person in the world who knows about your feelings for him. he also feels like the only person in the world who would understand them. 
“yeah, it is,” you mumble, downing yet another drink as you watch beomgyu grinding on the girl salaciously. 
“wanna get out of here?” he asks sympathetically. you should say no. beomgyu will be angry that you left  him, even if he’d ditch you in a heartbeat to get laid. but now, as you watch him shoving his tongue in the red-lipped mouth of the girl who will now be the impossible standard you’ll hold yourself to from hereon out, you can’t bring yourself to care.
“i do,” you smile, for real this time, and his grin matches yours.
you’re so drunk, you barely remember how you got home, but you’re here and so is hyuka. you don’t cry, even if he kind of wishes you would just so you could let it all out. you laugh, even, as he tells his dorky jokes and beats your ass in mario kart. things are going so well, you don’t even hear the pounding on your door until kai says something about it.
“i’ll get it,” he says soothingly when you unsteadily try to stand up.
“thanks, hyuka,” you smile. and that smile stays planted on your face until you see who’s at the door. beomgyu. and by the looks of it, he’s pissed.
“what the fuck is your problem?! how could you just leave me there alone?” he asks as soon as he’s let in. your face sinks and all prior happiness is washed away in an instant.
“you weren’t alone,” kai cuts in defensively. “she was alone until i came and got her.” beomgyu is actually a little embarrassed by this blatant callout, but he’d sooner die than admit it.
“well, she should’ve said something, at least,” he counters, face still hot and voice still as loud as ever.
“i thought you were going home with that girl,” you reply meekly. 
“and you couldn’t just ask?!” he snaps. 
“you’re being an asshole,” kai argues. “nobody wants to watch you tonguing down some random girl, and she’s not your babysitter.” the room is deathly quiet after this. beomgyu is fishing for words, but he’s too drunk to quite think of any at the moment. he wishes he were sober so he could put kai in his place, but the words never come. all he knows is he’s pissed beyond anything he can properly articulate and it’s driving him crazy. 
“you’re drunk,” kai adds sternly. “go home.” 
“hyuka, it's okay,” you say gently. “he's too drunk for that. he can crash on the couch.” beomgyu doesn't know why, but he scowls at the nickname.
“but —”
“it's okay,” you repeat. kai’s face looks torn. 
“alright, then i'll head out,” he relents after a few seconds. “the both of you just need some sleep,” he says with a sharp glance towards beomgyu, who is still fuming, by the way.
“thank you,” you say with a terse smile. he returns it with a smile of his own and shuts the door behind him. beomgyu watches the entire interaction and somehow feels even worse.
“what the fuck was that? is he the guy you’re hung up on or something?” 
“no!” you exclaim incredulously. “hyuka is a nice guy, and he’s just… helping me with some things right now.” you’re not the most eloquent person on a good day, much less while drunk, so that’s all you can really say at the moment.
“what ‘things’ could he possibly be helping you with?” he snaps before realization dawns on him. “you told him about that guy, didn’t you?! you can tell him but you can’t tell me?” 
“he… he just understands,” you say. you knew beomgyu wouldn’t just let this shit go and be done with it. he’s like a child finding out his dog likes somebody better than he likes him, and it’s exhausting.
“are you sleeping with him?” 
“what, no!”  you say firmly. 
“you are, aren’t you?” he sneers. “you won’t let me touch you, but you’re letting him?” 
“is it so hard to believe that a man just wants to be my friend without wanting to fuck me?” truthfully, yes. you’re good looking and his experience tells him that men always harbor those intentions. well, he does, at least. and for some reason, as he looks at you in your big t-shirt and sweatpants, those intentions are brewing even more. 
“beomgyu?” you ask tentatively. his eyes are so intense it seems like he’s even more pissed off,  somehow. your innocent look stokes the flames of what’s already been burning for you.
as if he’s possessed, he stalks his way over to you, grabs your face before you can even react, and plants a bruising kiss on your soft lips. you gasp when he meanly takes your bottom lip between his teeth and he can’t help but chuckle. the kiss is cruel for so many reasons, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t knock you off of your feet. you’re usually so restrained around him for reasons only you and kai know, but you feel your inhibitions melt as his tongue enters your mouth. he tastes like alcohol, but then, so do you, and he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, if his hungry kiss in any indication, he seems to love it. 
one of his hands travel under your big hoodie and he tweaks your already hardened nipple between his fingers. 
“does that feel good, baby?” he asks lowly, and you feel yourself becoming even more wet. you're too embarrassed to respond, but judging from his tone, he already knows your answer. 
his kisses are unrelenting and fierce, no gentleness or care to be seen, but you’re so sweet he can’t control himself. he’s been wanting to do this ever since he hit puberty, but you’ve never seemed interested in him for reasons he can’t understand. but now, you seem more than interested as you let him lead you to your bedroom. he lays you down on your bed and takes off your sweatpants. when he sees you, naked and glistening just from a few touches, he licks his lips in anticipation.
“all this from a few kisses?” he teases, rubbing his fingers up and down your slit. you can do nothing but gasp in response as he pushes one of his long, calloused fingers into your heat.
“s-so tight, it’s sucking me in,” he moans. “i can’t wait to see how you feel around my cock.” he adds a second finger and curls, hitting your sweet spot. all you can do is moan as he takes his thumb and rolls your clit. he watches your body rise and fall with the pleasure and it fascinates him like nothing he’s ever seen. your eyes are screwed shut, but he can’t help but prod and tease to see the different facial expressions you show him. before long, he’s pounding into you. the sound of squelches mixed with your moans only goads him further and further until you’re clenching down mercilessly on his fingers.
“aww, does that feel good, baby?” he coos. “wanna feel even better?” post-release clarity should hit you right about now, but you’re only more eager when he removes his clothes. his lengthy cock, angry and reddened, springs up and slaps his stomach. you whimper at the sight and he smirks at how needy you are.
he hovers over you and slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to rub his stiffened length up and down your slit. 
“gyu, you need a condom —” you begin to protest.
“why? i’m clean. and i don’t fuck just anyone raw,” he argues as the head of his cock comes dangerously close to hooking on your entrance. you’ve never been able to say no to him for any meaningful amount of time, so relenting isn’t out of the ordinary for you. but more than that, his words, though unromantic, spark a bit of hope in your heart. you’re special, you think. 
“do you trust me?” he asks. 
no. not at all.
“of course.” and he pushes in. his arrogance falters as you take him in, inch by throbbing inch. it’s a tight fit, and the way you clench around the tip of his cock only drives him further and further into madness. how can you feel so good? how can this feel so perfect? 
your poor pussy is equal parts trying to suck him in and trying to resist so the intrusion is forced out. to him, it feels like heaven. 
“t-tight!” he hisses. “relax, baby, or you’re gonna break me.” for some reason, his words comfort you, allowing him smooth entry until he’s completely sheathed in you. you both moan when he completely bottoms out, balls hitting your ass in the most lewd way. his precum mixed with the result of your release seep into the bedsheets. he stays there for just a moment, pushing your hair out of your face, and his next words are uncommonly tender.
“you look so pretty like this,” he muses, and you don’t even have time to blush before he’s unsteadily pulling out, pussy pulling him back in like it never wants him to leave, then thrusting back in again. 
“oh m-my god,” he says as he begins to ram into you. “so good, baby. you’re taking me so well.” 
“b-big!” is all you can manage to say as he continues to fuck you open.
“oh baby, are you going dumb on my cock? can’t even manage to get the words out, can you? it’s okay, don’t think. i’ll take care. of. you,” he says, punctuating each word with his mean thrusts. 
you’re crying now, the pleasure too great to stifle your tears. beomgyu thinks you look absolutely lovely like this, lovelier than anyone he’s ever seen, especially when he looks at where you two are joined and watches himself enter and exit your puffy pussy. each gasp, each breathy whine you emit makes him feel crazier and crazier. he aches so much, he has no choice but to continue pounding into you until he's relieved. so he does. he’s gripping the plush of your thighs like he might die if he doesn’t have something to hold onto. 
he leans over to give you a nasty kiss, all tongue and teeth. when he parts from you, a lewd string of saliva falls from your mouths and he can’t control the chuckle that escapes him when he sees your pupils are blown out as you flounder for his lips again. 
“look, baby. look at how good i’m fucking you.” you look down and see how his cock protrudes from your tummy as he rams in and out of you. “nobody else has fucked you right, but don’t worry, i’ll make sure to fix that.” your pussy involuntarily clenches at his filthy words and it’s enough to make you come.
“c-coming!” you manage to choke out as you spasm around him, back arching deliciously. he follows soon after, thrusts becoming uneven before you feel his cum shooting inside of you.
-
fucking beomgyu comes naturally, and often. he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. hooking up becomes almost a daily affair, but you’re so hungry for him you can’t bring yourself to protest. you fuck in his car, on his couch, over the fucking kitchen counter, even. all plans to go out with anyone else are immediately dashed in favor of being with him, instead. you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him, and even if you know, know, know it’s fruitless, you can’t help but relent when he looks at you like a man starved. 
“this can’t be good for you,” kai tells you one evening in the comfort of your apartment. it’s a rare occurrence to have a free night from beomgyu’s clutches. kai hasn’t seen you in weeks because you’ve been too “busy” with beomgyu. 
“well, i know,” you sigh, too tired to argue with him. 
“if you know, then why do you do it?” he asks tentatively. you can’t help but give him a look. 
“you know why,” you say. 
“he's just messing with your head. you know this can't end well.” you flinch at the word “end”. you know it, he knows it, beomgyu surely fucking knows it, but you can’t help but give in every time. “what are you gonna do when he inevitably fucks you over? and he will, just like always.”
“i… i’ll deal with it when the time comes,” you protest. he sees your defeated expression and lightly tilts your head so it’s resting on his shoulder. your retribution for your actions was always well on its way, but you didn’t know it would come so soon. 
you hear a key turning in the door. there’s only one person in the world you’ve given a spare to, so you aren’t surprised in the slightest when beomgyu walks in with that signature smirk on his face. he scowls a bit when he’s greeted with the scene of you and kai sitting so intimately.
“am i interrupting something?” he scoffs as you raise your head from kai’s shoulder.
“no,” kai replies before you can even fix your lips to respond. to your mild surprise, he doesn't push any further.
“whatever,” he shrugs, plopping down next to the two of you and pulling out his phone.
“wanna see this girl whose number i got today?” he asks casually, swiping through his phone eagerly. so that's why he didn't wanna meet up. your heart feels like a hole’s been blown straight through it. you and kai share a deep look, which beomgyu completely misses as he pulls up a picture of a beautiful looking girl. 
“this is her,” he says with a triumphant smirk. you don’t — can’t — respond. you just have a blank look on your face.
“what?” he asks petulantly. “she’s really pretty, look!” he insists, pulling up another picture. “she’s one of the hottest girls i’ve seen in a minute.”
any last shred of hope or dignity you have is strangled in its crib at his careless words. your eyes are hot and your stomach hurts so much you feel like you’re going to vomit. kai notices your discomfort and decides to put a stop to this once and for all.
“alright, that’s enough,” kai snaps. “nobody wants to see that shit.”
“what’s your fucking problem?” beomgyu retorts.
“my problem is that you’re a fucking moron. grow up.” beomgyu’s not one to get physical, at least not in a violent sense, but he’s on the precipice of breaking that streak at kai’s harsh words.
“stop, hyuka. it’s okay,” you say softly. beomgyu is so furious, he almost forgot you’re here, but he's genuinely confused by kai’s words.
“what's okay? what is it that you're not telling me?” beomgyu asks. 
“it's not okay, actually. he’s fucking you but he comes around and pulls this shit right in front of you?! she won’t say it, but i will.” 
“kai, don’t —” 
“she doesn’t care! no strings attached, that’s always been the deal.”
“you may be stupid as fuck, but surely you’re not that stupid,” kai sneers. “so if you say you don’t already know, you’re just a fucking liar.” beomgyu pauses at this. is he saying what he thinks he’s saying? surely you didn’t catch feelings, right? but one look at your face, and he knows kai is telling the truth. 
but why? and when?
“since when did you…”
“since always,” you say quietly. 
“oh, fuck. look, i —”
“it’s okay. i already know,” you cut in. and you do already know, but you can’t bear to hear him say it. beomgyu, in all his glory, processes this and instead of regret, all he feels is anger.
“i’m the piece of shit guy you can’t get over? are you fucking serious?”
“hyuka, you should go,” you say instead of letting him watch the melodrama unfolding before him. kai looks uncertainly between the both of you before relenting. 
“call me later, okay?” he says, wiping tears from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.
“okay,” you reply with a sad smile. he sends beomgyu one last scathing look before gathering his shit and slamming the door behind him. 
“you tricked me!” beomgyu exclaims as soon as the door shuts. “i would’ve never fucked you if i knew you’d be like this.” just like everyone else. he doesn’t need to voice the last part, but you already know he wants to say it, which just hurts you even more.
“did you really not know, or were you just pretending not to know ‘cause it’d be inconvenient for you?” that shuts him up. kai was right, he’d be stupid not to know. maybe not at first, but surely along the way. surely when you’d look at him so longingly after sleeping with him, or the way you’d look so sad when he didn't stay after sex.
“listen, i’m so sorry that you’re scared, or angry, or whatever it is you’re feeling. i really am. but are you so selfish that you really think nobody else is afraid to have their heart broken? and do you think that means you’re allowed to hurt everyone else instead?” you ask quietly. every new word pierces his heart like nothing he's ever felt before. he wants to say something, but for the life of him, he can’t think of anything quite fitting. 
“i think you should leave,” you say after what feels like an eternity of silence. he looks at you with watery eyes and you almost feel guilty, but you’re through with feeling things for him that he’d never have the courtesy to feel for you. “go,” you repeat defeatedly, striding to the door and holding it open for him and he feels more and more like a rat you want to chase out of your home.
he looks like he wants to say something, but one look at you tells him you’re done listening. with heavy feet and an even heavier heart, he heads through the doorway, pausing only before he’s about to cross the threshold. he has a sinking feeling in his gut that tells him this is probably the last time he’ll be here. 
“are we still friends after this?” he asks lowly, eyes wide and more desperate than you’ve ever seen them. 
“no,” you say simply, and shut the door.
notes: not a ton of smut in this part, but i think the next part will have more i fear.
taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast
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quinzzelx · 1 month
Text
Shadows and Starlight
Part 3
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: You and Azriel finally get it on.
Chapter 01 // Chapter 02
Word Count: 7K Oh lord
Warnings: This is pure filth! 18+ NSFW content. Explicit sexual content. Fluff! This can be read as a stand-alone if you don't want to read the first two parts- I'd still recommend reading the first two chapters. I have not proofread this yet!! There might be reoccurring words, weird sentences and/or grammar issues. I will do this as soon as I can.
A/N: Oh DAMN!! I popped this out in no time! This had me feeling some ways while writing. I am still so overwhelmed by the positive feedback I've received. You guys have honestly no idea how much this means to me. Sooooo, I really do hope you enjoy this! Let me know what you think, always happy about feedback.
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The satin sheets felt cool and smooth between your fingers as you fisted them with your hands. Cauldron, you had fought battles before, wars even, but right now with the way Azriel hovered over you, you knew you stood no chance. Whatever he wanted, you would yield to him, give it to him, everything, your whole being entirely. Only the moon’s light and the bright flashes of the falling stars outside illuminated the room. “How long?” The question left him with a slow exhale, voice raspy and strained.
Your heart was pounding with such favor and strength, so loud that you barely could hear what he just said, the question he had just asked. “What?” A yelp left your kiss-bruised lips when you felt his hands move to your thighs, squeezing them and yanking you forward a bit so that you sat at the edge of the bed, his bed. Every bit of air left your lungs then as he slowly bent over from his position standing in front of you, leaning over your flustered form. He gripped your chin, tilting it upwards gently to catch your eyes with his. “How long have you known for?” He clarified, eyes narrowing slightly at the possibilities of why you wouldn’t have told him earlier. Maybe you did not want him. Maybe your heart already belonged to someone else.
There was no anger in his voice as he spoke to you. “Just now.” You gasp when you feel the hand holding your chin up slightly wrap around your throat, his thumb brushing over your pulse point lightly. While his grip was strong enough to keep you still, head still tilted up to look at him, it was gentle, soft. One of your own hands found their way over the one wrapped around your neck. Hazel trailed down to watch where yours now clasped his, watching as your throat bobbed while you swallowed. He wanted to groan at the way you were looking at him when his eyes met yours again.
“Was that what you wanted to tell me before Feyre interrupted you?” His brows furrowed slightly when you shook your head lightly, as much as shaking your head was possible with his hand wrapped around your throat. You bit your lower lip slightly, breathing heavily. “No. It only snapped shortly after you kissed me.” Azriel found himself captivated by the way your chest rose and fell with every ragged breath you took. Captivated by how his hand felt wrapped around your throat, how it felt every time you swallowed, and how fast your heart was beating.
“I wanted to tell you how helplessly in love I am with you.” Your voice was shaky, mind clouded by the intensity of your emotions. Azriel shut his eyes then, letting his forehead fall to yours. In the charged silence that followed your confession, Azriel's grip on your throat tightened ever so slightly, a primal instinct surging within him at the vulnerability of your admission. His breath came out in short, ragged bursts, his chest rising and falling in tandem with yours as he struggled to process the weight of your words.
When he finally opened his eyes, the molten gold of his gaze bore into yours with a fierce intensity, as if searching for the truth hidden within the depths of your soul. "You have no idea what you do to me," he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion. With a shaky exhale, you leaned into his touch, the heat of his body searing against your skin. "I need you, Azriel," you confessed, your voice barely more than a whisper. "More than I've ever needed anything in my life."
Guided by pure need and longing, his lips crashed against yours once more, capturing your lips with his in a heated kiss. For months, he had wrestled with the forbidden fantasies that tormented his mind, visions of your body pressed against his, of the intoxicating taste of your lips against his own. The longing had gnawed at him, a relentless ache that he could neither place nor explain. Despite his best efforts to bury his feelings for you deep within his soul, they had persisted, growing stronger with each passing day until they became an undeniable force that drove him to the brink of madness. He had spent countless nights hating himself for thinking about you in such scandalous ways, but never dared to entertain the idea that you could be his Mate. And yet, here you were, in his arms, igniting a fire within him that burned brighter than any star in the night sky.
He cursed himself for his blindness, for allowing his fears and insecurities to cloud his judgment for so long. You had been there all along, his steadfast companion, his confidante, his best friend. And yet, he had been too blind to see what was right in front of him, too enamored by his love for Mor and lusting after Elain, too afraid to acknowledge the longing that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.
But now, as he held you in his arms, the truth was undeniable. You were his Mate, chosen by the Mother herself to be his partner, his equal. And as that realization washed over him, a surge of raw emotion coursed through his veins, overwhelming him with a sense of gratitude and awe.
His voice, though still tender, took on a more daring tone as he spoke, his hands trailing over the delicate lace adorning your dress. The fabric felt soft and delicate beneath the rough texture of his scarred fingers. "You're not just my equal," he murmured, his voice low and husky, "you're my other half, the missing piece of my soul. And I intend to cherish and adore you for all eternity, to worship every inch of your body as if it were my sanctuary." Your breath hitched, a soft moan escaping your parted lips. The tightness of your dress felt suffocating now, chest heaving.
Azriel straightens his back, now standing to his full height in front of you. Holding your eyes captured with his, his hands wander to the top-button of his black shirt. There was a unspoken promise in the way he looked down at you. As he stood before you, his wings casting a mesmerizing shadow in the moonlit room, you couldn't tear your gaze away from him. His fingers deftly undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing the intricate tattoos that adorned his muscular chest, you couldn't help but admire the sight before you. With each button released, your anticipation grew, the desire to feel his skin against yours overwhelming your senses.
His lips ghost over your neck then, inhaling your scent. A guttural snarl leaves him as he smells just how turned on you are, letting his lips trail up your neck to the shell of your ear. "You're mine" With a soft gasp, you tilted your head back, offering him better access to your neck. "Yours," you whispered breathlessly. Azriel nips at the skin just beneath your ear then. “So. Fucking. Intoxicating.” He raps in between hot open-mouthed kisses that trail back down your throat, ending at your collarbone.
Standing up from the edge of the bed, you closed the distance between you. Your fingers trembled slightly as you reached out, trailing them along the exposed skin of his chest, tracing along the lines of his tattoos, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. His head was tilted down, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. Azriel's gaze never leaves you as you explore his body, his eyes dark with longing and something deeper. He remains silent, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath, a silent invitation for you to continue your exploration. With each button that came undone, revealing more of his sculpted physique, your heart raced faster.
When the last button was undone, you pushed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. His skin was warm beneath your touch, his muscles tense with anticipation. "You're so beautiful," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of your racing heartbeat.
"I want to feel every inch of you." With a low growl, Azriel's lips brushed against the shell of your ear again as he spoke, his voice thick with want. "Then feel," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. As he turned you around, pressing his front into your back, you could feel the hard bulge of his arousal pressing against your lower back.
"Can you feel what you do to me?" Azriel's voice was a husky whisper against your ear as his front pressed into you, his painfully hard cock straining in his pants, hands trailing over the scarred skin of your back. You shivered at his touch, feeling the warmth of his hands as they came to a halt where the fabric of your dress starts again, right where your skin would dip into the curve of your ass. He wanted to rip that god-forsaken dress right from your body.
“I can't take it anymore," Azriel groaned, his voice thick with lust as he began unbuttoning the dress, his fingers trembling with anticipation. Each button that came undone sent a jolt of electricity coursing through both of you, the tension between you reaching its breaking point. When he reached the last button, just beneath your ass, his breath caught in his throat as he realized you weren't wearing any underwear. With a low growl, he threw his head back in frustration, calling you naughty as he slipped the straps of your dress off your shoulders.
Pressing a kiss to the spot where the straps had left small indents in your skin, he murmured against your ear, "You're driving me insane, you know that?"
You could only whimper in response, the intensity of his touch leaving you breathless and desperate for more. As he peeled the dress from your body, revealing every inch of your skin to him. “It’s quite common to-“  Your attempt to explain the impracticality of wearing anything underneath these dresses is cut short when Azriel kneels behind you, pulling the dress down to the floor with him. The words die in your throat as his lips press against the middle of the small of your back, sending shivers cascading down your spine. His touch and the cold air hitting your perked breasts makes your nipples harden.
You gasp as his kisses trail downwards, his lips leaving a scorching trail along your skin. When he reaches the curve of your ass, you feel his teeth graze over the soft flesh, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Your hands grip the edge of the bed tightly as you arch your back, offering yourself to him completely.
As you step out of the dress, Azriel pushes it aside, his gaze drinking in the sight of you standing before him in all your glory. His hands start at your calves, moving upward with deliberate intent until they come to rest on your ass cheeks, kneading them with a gentle yet firm touch. Azriel's eyes darken as he notices the slick coating your inner thigh, a silent testament to your arousal. With a low growl, he lets one of his hands travel there, his thumb grazing dangerously close to where you need him the most as he gathers some of your slick with his fingers. God's, you were so wet for him.
He hums satisfied when your body trembles under his touch, hands wandering to grip your hips again. "Turn around." He orders softly, urging you with his grip on your hips. As you turn to face him, your breath catches in your throat at the sight of Azriel kneeling before you, his eyes dark with lust, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that sends a thrill coursing through your veins. His tousled hair frames his face, adding to the raw allure of the moment, and you can't help but feel heat pool in between your legs.
His smirk only adds to the tension between you, his arm wrapping around the back of your legs to keep you steady. With a boldness that surprises even yourself, you reach out to run your fingers through his hair, relishing in the sensation of the soft strands beneath your touch. Azriel's eyes flutter closed briefly at your touch, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he leans into your hand, savoring the feeling of your touch against his skin. He opens his eyes again, his meeting yours immediately. "Remember what I said earlier?" He tilts his head in question, his gaze slowly raking down from your face to take in your breasts, flushed and perked, begging for attention, trailing down further to the curve of your hips, trailing even further to level his gaze, looking at your dripping cunt briefly. Pressing a heated kiss to one of the scars adorning your stomach then, he exhales sharply, the heat of his breath on your wet skin making you shiver. "It's hard to remember anything right now." You say with a gulp, struggling to even form words right now. His chuckles softly. "I said." He pauses, grasping your thighs with both of his hands now. "That I wanted your legs to frame my face."
Azriel's words send a jolt coursing through you. Your breath hitches as his hands grip your thighs firmly, his touch sending a jolt through you. With a shaky exhale, you nod in response, your gaze locked onto his with a mixture of pure need and anticipation. "I remember," you manage to reply, your voice barely above a whisper.
His smirk deepens at your response, his eyes gleaming with primal hunger as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin. "Good," he murmurs huskily, his lips trailing fiery kisses along the curve of your hip. He needed to taste you, feel you dripping on his tongue, needing to know if you tasted as sweet as you smelled.
Unable to contain your own arousal any longer, you whimper softly, your fingers tangling in his hair as you guide him closer to where you need him most. "May I?" he asks, looking up at you again. Something tells you that he was at the brink of losing all his restraint, but if you now said you wanted to stop, he would immediately. You nod eagerly in response, unable to find the words to express the overwhelming need that consumes you. "Yes," you breathe out, your voice barely a whisper, but it's all the permission he needs.
He pulls apart your legs slightly, all while holding eye contact. Subsequently, he tilts his head slightly angling himself and dives in. His tongue falls out, dragging along your folds hungrily, his nose brushes and presses into your clit. A sinful groan leaves him when he tastes your arousal on his tongue, sending vibrations through your core. Fuck, if he wasn’t holding you up with one of his arms, supporting your weight, you would have fallen to your knees right then. Your back arches involuntarily at the sensation, a low moan escaping your lips as pleasure courses through your entire body. Azriel's touch ignites an inferno within you, burning hotter and brighter with each tantalizing stroke of his tongue.
With each flick and swirl, he sends ripples of ecstasy coursing through you, drawing forth gasps and whimpers that echo in the stillness of the room. Azriel's voice is husky and thick as he speaks, his breath hot against your heated skin. "You taste divine” And god’s you did, if he were to die with his tongue buried inside your pussy, he would die a happy male.
You can't help but moan in response, the sound a melodic symphony of pleasure as Azriel's tongue continues its relentless assault on your senses. His hands both wrap around your middle then, pulling you flush against his mouth, as if he was trying to drown between your legs. When his tongue delivers a particularly harsh flick over your bundle of nerves, you can't help but react, gritting your teeth and pulling on his hair in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself amidst the storm of sensation. The action elicits a deep, guttural groan from Azriel, his own pleasure evident in the way his body responds to your touch. Shit, he liked that.
Azriel pulls back with an embarrassingly wet, squelching sound, his lips swollen and his eyes heavy-lidded as he gazes up at you. A glistening trail of your essence adorns his chin, evidence of the pleasure he has bestowed upon you. Lazily, he licks his lips, savoring the taste of you as he takes in the sight before him. Your face is flushed, your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. Every nerve in your body is alight with sensation, your mind reeling from the intensity of the experience. With a soft sigh, Azriel leans forward, pressing a tender kiss to your inner thigh before rising to his feet. The intensity of his gaze never wavers as he meets your eyes, heavy breaths mingling together.
Without a word, you lean forward, closing the distance between you, and your lips meet in a searing kiss. As your lips mold together, you can taste yourself on his lips, a heady mix of your arousal and his own taste. Azriel responds eagerly to your kiss, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you closer, deepening the connection between you. His hand wanders to cup your breast, kneading the soft flesh with a gentle touch, making a shiver run down your spine at his words. "You're perfect," he murmurs against your lips, his voice husky. "With every scar," he adds softly, his fingers tracing the lines of your skin, "every imperfection, you're still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
His touch is gentle, reverent, as if he's tracing a map of your soul with his fingertips. And in that moment, you feel seen, truly seen, in a way you've never experienced before. It's as if Azriel is not only exploring the physical contours of your body but also the hidden depths of your being, embracing every part of you with unwavering acceptance and love.
Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you gaze into Azriel's, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion in his words and the tenderness of his touch. "Thank you," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "For seeing me, for loving me just as I am." You press your forehead against his, your heart overflowing with love for this remarkable male who has captured your soul so completely. “I love you, Azriel.”
Azriel's gaze softens even further as he listens to your heartfelt words, a gentle smile playing on his lips. He brushes his thumb against your cheek, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. "You don't have to thank me," he murmurs, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Loving you comes as naturally to me as breathing. You've always been perfect to me." He leans in to press a tender kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. "I love you too, with every fiber of my being."
You melt into his touch, your full breasts pushed against his chest, skin on skin, the shift in position had you feel every hard inch of him pressed against your lower stomach. One of your hands used his distraction to sneak between you, cupping him through the fabric of his pants. You wanted to moan at the sheer size of him. Azriel's breath hitches as your hand cups him through his pants, his hips instinctively pressing forward into your touch. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest.
You can feel him hardening even more beneath your touch, the heat of his arousal pulsing against your palm. His fingers dig into your waist, holding you close as he savors the exquisite torture of your touch. With a shuddering breath, he whispers your name, his voice thick with desire.
Azriel's voice is strained as he speaks, his words coming out in a low, gravelly tone. "I'm sorry, but I think I'll lose it if I don't fuck you already," he admits, his breath hot against your skin. His admission sends a jolt of anticipation coursing through you, your own desire matching his as you feel the urgency in his voice.
You can't help but let out a breathless laugh at his honesty, the sound a mixture of excitement and longing. "Then what are you waiting for?" you tease, a playful glint in your eyes as you meet his gaze. "Take me, Azriel. I'm all yours." And that's all he needs, every chain of restraint he had kept up shattered with your words. You Yelp when he lifts you a little and throws you back onto the bed with ease. Azriel's movements are swift and confident as he sheds his remaining clothing, his gaze never leaving yours. The hunger in his eyes mirrors your own as he stands before you, gloriously naked.
A soft gasp escapes your lips as you take in the sight before you, your eyes tracing every curve and contour of his impressive length. Never before had you seen a more beautiful sight, and the need to feel him inside you overwhelms you. His cock stands tall and proud, the veins along its silky length enticingly prominent, pre-cum glistens on the head, a tantalizing invitation that beckons you closer. Cursing under your breath, you can feel your core clenching around nothing but air, aching for the delicious sensation of being filled by him.
"And here I tried to take my time with you," he remarks, his voice low and husky with need. Despite his words, there's an unmistakable hurry in his movements as he kicks off his pants. Azriel crawls onto the bed, his movements fluid and purposeful. Every inch of his body radiates heat, drawing you in. As he hovers above you, his eyes roam over your body hungrily, taking in every curve and contour as if committing them to memory.
He props himself up with his arms, caging you beneath him. With a strained sound, something between a growl and a moan, he lowers himself onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. Your breathing quickens as his hand traces down your body once more. "Let's ensure I don't hurt you when I take you," he whispers, his voice filled with want. He dips a finger into your wetness, gathering your slick. "Azriel," you moan his name, squeezing your eyes shut in need, impatiently trying to create some friction by grinding on his hand. "I've got you," he murmurs reassuringly, his thumb drawing lazy circles on your clit.
Azriel watches every single one of your reactions, savoring the way your face contorts in pleasure, how your lips part, relishing every whimper and whine he can coax from your body. A soft hum escapes him as he eases one of his digits into your awaiting warmth. Your hand wraps around the arm he uses to prop himself up with, squeezing slightly. "Good girl," he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive rumble. After stretching you with one finger, he adds a second one, slowly thrusting them inside, curling them slightly, watching your reactions carefully. Your breath hitches as he fills you, your walls clenching around his fingers in response to the delicious sensation. Azriel's gaze never leaves yours as he moves his fingers within you, hanging onto every reaction you may give him.
Feeling the way your body responds to his touch, Azriel can't help but grin as he finds that sweet spot that makes you gasp his name loudly. He repeats the motion, relishing in the way your body reacts, confirming that he's found exactly what he was looking for. With a confident smirk, he lets his gaze wander down, watching as his fingers disappear into your wet cunt, completely lost in the sight and sensation of you.
As he picks up the pace, Azriel watches intently as you clench around his fingers, your body trembling with the impending release of your release. With a commanding tone, he orders you to look at him, and you obediently open your eyes to meet his gaze. "I'm-" you begin, wanting to tell him that you're about to come, but before you can finish your sentence, he carries you through the intensity of your orgasm. A high-pitched moan escapes your lips as pleasure courses through your body, echoing through the room. He kisses the top of your head lovingly, his lips lingering there as he whispers words of encouragement. "That's it, love," he coos softly, his voice a gentle melody in the midst of your pleasure. With tender care, he lets you ride out the waves of your orgasm, his fingers still inside you, providing the support and stimulation you need.
While you come down from your high, a surge of newfound energy pulses through you, fueled by blinding passion and longing for more of him. You catch his lips with yours, the taste of your pleasure still lingering between you. With a playful nip, you bite down on his bottom lip, eliciting a low growl from deep within his chest that vibrates against your lips. His hand retreats from between your legs, but you're not done yet. Your hand finds his heavy cock once more, the need for him burning hot within you. With deliberate strokes, you run your hand down his length, feeling him twitch in response to your touch. His grunt is muffled by the kiss, but you can sense the pleasure building within him.
You push lightly against his chest, your gaze lingering hungrily on his throbbing cock in your hands, eager to taste him. As you attempt to lower yourself, your intention clear, he catches your other wrist with a firm grip. His voice is heavy with need as he speaks, his desire palpable. "As much as I would love to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock," he begins, his words laced with hunger, "I desperately need to fuck you right now." The intensity in his eyes matches the urgency in his voice.
Your breath hitches when he finally bottoms out, buried deep inside you to the hilt. With both of your eyes closed in pure bliss, you can feel the pulsing of his cock inside you. When you glance at him, his brows are furrowed in concentration, his lips pressed together in a thin line, clearly focused on controlling himself.
With a gentle yet firm touch, he removes your hand from his cock, replacing it with his own as he guides himself to your entrance. With a swift motion, he drags his cock through your folds, the tip grazing over your clit in a tantalizing friction. You shudder as he repeats this motion, each pass sending a jolt of electricity through your body. He grinds down on you, coating his length in your arousal.
With a low groan of pleasure, Azriel nudges at your entrance, his cock easing into you slowly. Both of you moan in unison as he sheathes himself inside you, inch by inch. "Fuck," he breathes out, his body tensing slightly as he closes his eyes to focus. You feel incredible, and he knows he needs to take his time to savor every moment. With a few seconds of restraint, he continues to ease himself into your cunt, your legs falling apart to give him more access to your dripping core.
His eyes lock with yours when he opens them, seeking confirmation, and you respond with a nod, a smile playing on your lips, encouraging him to proceed. However, your smile fades instantly when he withdraws and plunges back into you with full force. Your hands instinctively find their way to his back and shoulders, but as you inadvertently brush against the soft membrane of his wings, a guttural moan escapes him, accompanied by a curse. "If you do that again," he warns between ragged breaths, "I won't last."
Your sheepish smile does little to mask the desire flickering in your eyes as you offer a soft apology. "Sorry," you whimper, your voice strained, as another forceful thrust sends waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. "Don't be sorry," he murmurs in response, his voice thick with need. "Just... fuck." His words trail off into a groan as he continues to drive into you with relentless urgency, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You mewl at his hard thrusts, clawing at his back. "More" you whimper.
Azriel's grip tightens on your hips as he obliges, his thrusts becoming more fervent and primal in response to your plea. Each movement sends ripples of ecstasy radiating through your body, igniting a fiery passion between you that consumes every inch of your being. "You want more?" he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he meets your desperate gaze. "I'll give you everything." The intensity of his thrusts increases, driven by Illyrian instincts and overwhelming desire. His hips move with a feverish urgency, each snap of his body meeting yours sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His wings flare out behind him, a testament to the raw passion consuming him in the heat of the moment. You cling to him, lost in the moment.
Azriel curses, sweat forming above his eyebrows. "I- Shit, wait." He slows down a little bit. "Come here." He slides out of you a bit, pushing your knees up to your chest and hooking each leg over one of his shoulders. "Let me just..." He mumbles in concentration, arms scooting behind your back, lifting you up with him and hurrying to press your back against the headboard. He holds you firmly, the new position and angle giving him endless access to your throbbing heat. You are held up by his muscular arms, sandwiched between his body and his headboard. "Ready?" he huffs.
You nod eagerly, your body already craving his touch and the new angle. As he slides back into you, you gasp at the sensation, the deeper penetration sending sparks shooting through you. His arms hold you securely up in the air, your back pressed against the solid wood of the headboard as he moves with a renewed vigor. With each thrust, you feel yourself being driven closer to the edge, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. "Yes, Azriel, don't stop," you moan, your voice a breathless plea as you surrender yourself to him.
Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head as he pounds into you relentlessly. You're a moaning mess at this point, tits bouncing with every thrust up into your clenching cunt. Azriel imagined this moment so many times over the course of the last months but nothing compared to the real you, the real feeling. "Your pussy feels amazing wrapped around my cock." He speaks into your ear, grunting softly, his hair falling into his face a little. "So good for me." Your body trembles with each powerful thrust, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. Every word that spills from Azriel's lips only serves to fuel the fire burning within you, his praise igniting something ancient deep within your core. You can feel the tension building, the coil of ecstasy winding tighter with each movement of his hips. "Azriel," you whimper, your voice a desperate plea as you cling to him, lost in the euphoria of the moment.
"I love the way you say my name like that." he emphasizes his words with another deep thrust of his hips, hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars. He bites into the soft flesh of your neck, biting, sucking, marking you as his. The sensation of his teeth sinking into your flesh sends shivers down your spine, a mixture of pleasure and pain mingling together in the most intoxicating way. You arch your back, offering yourself to him completely, every inch of your skin craving his touch, his possession. His words echo in your mind as you moan his name again and again, each utterance a testament to the bliss he's brought you to.
"My Mate." He grunts out in-between thrusts, sucking at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. "Only mine." You cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his back as you feel yourself hurtling towards the edge of oblivion. "Yours," you gasp, the word torn from your lips as pleasure consumes you. "Only yours, Azriel." As you feel yourself getting closer, you let your hands wander to Azriel’s wings again, letting your fingers softly explore the bone and flesh of the beautiful membrane. He releases a sound that he never even heard himself make, rutting into you again, jaw clenched. "You'll be the death of me"
Azriel groans loudly as he feels you clenching around him, milking his cock for all he is worth, the sensation pushing him over the edge. With one final thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, releasing with a roar as his hot seed spills into you, his body shuddering with the force of it all. He collapses against you, his wings folding around you both protectively as you both ride out the waves of pleasure together. You both pant heavily, his head resting on your sweaty shoulder. Both of your hearts beating rapidly, just slowly calming. "We made a mess of your bed." you state with shaky voice. Azriel laughs then, a true deep laugh.
His wings tremble under your touch, a sensation unlike any other coursing through him. "Gods, don't stop," he growls, his voice strained as he continues to thrust into you, the intensity of your touch pushing him closer to the brink. "I want to feel you come apart beneath me." You feel yourself clench and constrict around his cock that's nestled deep within you. So, so deep within you. Moaning soundly, you chant his name, telling him you're close. Azriel responds to your pleas by driving into you harder, his thrusts becoming more urgent and desperate as he pushes you both towards the edge.
"Come for me," he urges, his voice rough, his hips meeting yours with harsh snaps. "Let go, love." You gush around his cock then, white, hot pleasure shoots through your body as you spasm around his thick length buried inside you. Raking your nails down his wings while your whole body shakes, you hear him fucking whimper.
Azriel's laughter is like music to your ears, a symphony of joy and satisfaction that fills the room. "Worth it," he murmurs against your skin, his breath warm against your neck. You can't help but smile, feeling content and loved in his arms. "Definitely worth it," you agree softly, snuggling closer to him as you both bask in the afterglow of your passion. Azriel grinds into you one, two more times for good measure, easing out of you with a low groan, his cock twitching at the sight of your shared release dripping from your cunt. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before moving to the side of the bed, standing up and disappearing into the bathroom.
He brings a warm towel when he returns, using it to wipe away any remaining traces of sweat and arousal from your skin, his touch soothing and comforting. Once you're both clean and comfortable, he pulls the covers over you, tucking them snugly around your bodies.
With a tender smile, he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his eyes filled with affection as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "You were incredible," he murmurs against your mouth, his voice filled with sincerity. "Thank you for sharing that with me." He then settles beside you, pulling you close so that you can rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
“Why exactly didn’t we do this earlier?” The question leaves you with a huff. Azriel chuckles softly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back. "I've been asking myself the same question," he admits, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "But I suppose everything happens in its own time. And right now, I'm just grateful that we're here together." He shifts slightly to gaze into your eyes, his expression tender. "I love you."
You smile up at him, your heart swelling. "I love you too," you whisper, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear. The moment feels so precious, so intimate, that you wish you could freeze it in time and stay like this forever. Azriel's gaze holds yours, a warmth and adoration shining in his eyes that makes you feel cherished beyond measure. With a contented sigh, you snuggle closer to him, relishing in the comforting embrace of his arms. This was where you belonged, in his arms, together, for eternity.
With a groan you move to look at Azriel again. “Cassian will never let this go” Azriel snorts at your annoyed groan. "Let him tease all he wants," he says, his voice laced with amusement. "As long as I have you, I couldn't care less about what Cassian has to say." He presses a gentle kiss to your temple again, his arms tightening around you in a reassuring embrace. "Besides, I think he'll be too busy celebrating to bother with teasing."
You smile at his words, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his affectionate gesture. "I suppose you're right," you reply, running your fingers lightly through his hair. "But still, I can already hear the jokes he'll come up with." Azriel grins mischievously, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Well, since he's been giving me shit for about a century now, telling me I should finally make a move," he begins, his tone low, "I think we've given him quite the surprise, wouldn't you say?" He leans in to nuzzle your cheek affectionately, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks.
A playful smile tugs at your lips as you imagine the reactions of your friends. "Oh, the looks on their faces when we tell them we're mates," you say, your voice tinged with amusement. "I can already picture Cassian's jaw hitting the floor." You chuckle softly, leaning into Azriel's touch
Azriel nods in agreement, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Oh, Rhys will definitely be worse than Cassian," he says, his tone laced with amusement. "He's probably been waiting for this moment even longer than Cassian has. I wouldn't be surprised if he sensed it coming before we even did." His heart swells at the sound of your laughter, his own lips curving into a wide, genuine smile. He reaches out to gently brush his thumb over your swollen lips, his touch tender and filled with affection. "I could listen to that laugh forever," he murmurs softly, his gaze warm as he gazes into your eyes.
A loving glint dances in your eyes as you playfully tug at the bond between you and Azriel, relishing in the connection that binds you together. His eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly catches on, a smirk forming on his lips as he tugs back, understanding your silent communication perfectly as you send love down the bond.
Cassian's voice echoes through the room, breaking the tranquility of the morning. Startled awake, you and Azriel jolt upright in bed, disheveled and bleary-eyed. Azriel's wings instinctively flare out in a protective gesture as he pulls you closer to him, shielding you from Cassian's sudden intrusion.
Entwined in each other's arms, the warmth of your bodies creating a cocoon of comfort, you and Azriel drift into a peaceful slumber. The golden thread of your bond shimmers softly, a tangible reminder of the connection that binds your souls together. As sleep claims you both, your dreams are for once not plagued by haunting memories. Instead, you sleep soundly, dreaming of whatever possibilities lief in the future.
☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆
"Did I interrupt something?" Cassian's grin widens as he takes in the scene before him, unable to contain his excitement.
Azriel clears his throat, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "Cassian, is there a reason you're barging into my room at this ungodly hour?" His tone is a mix of irritation and amusement. But Cassian is too busy reveling in the moment to pay much attention to Azriel's annoyance. "You sly dog!" he exclaims, pointing an accusatory finger at Azriel. "You finally made a move, didn't you?"
You bury your face in Azriel's chest, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement at Cassian's brazenness. Azriel simply rolls his eyes, though there's a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "It's about time!" Cassian continues, unabashed. "Rhys is going to lose his mind when he finds out!"
Azriel sighs, resigned to the fact that there's no escaping Cassian's teasing now. "Well, since you're already here, you might as well make yourself useful and fetch us some breakfast." Cassian's grin widens even further if that's even possible. "Consider it done!" he says before bounding out of the room, leaving you and Azriel to share a knowing glance. Despite the intrusion, there's a sense of contentment and happiness that lingers in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that now binds you and Azriel together. As you lean into his embrace once more, you can't help but smile, grateful for the unexpected turn of events that brought you to this moment.
☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆
A/N: Welllllllllllllllll, what do you think? For now, I'm very happy with where their story ended. But I have some ideas that could work for further parts. Otherwise, I'll probably work on other projects of mine!.
Taglist: @impossibelle @paleidiot @tele86 @namelesssaviour @sstrohma @that-one-little-soybean @mybestfriendmademe @durgenyx @shinyghosteclipse @katherinejess @thisiskaylin @itsbonniebabe @lilah-asteria @dream-alittlebiggerdarling
I hope I didn't forget anyone!!
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katsu28 · 2 months
Text
for you i'd wait forever
pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader
summary: bradley breaks things off with you before a deployment because he doesn't want you to worry about him (4.2k)
warnings: some swearing, bradley's commitment issues, happy ending i promise!
a/n: okay so from what i gathered from my googling is that tapping out is typically for new military graduates (i think?) but this idea was so cute so pls forgive the inaccuracies i have no idea what i'm doing at all <3 and also pls forgive me for the utter lack of writing since the beginning of the year, these last few months have been brutal (creatively and otherwise) but i am hopefully back!!! xx
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Bradley thought he knew the tolls of being in the Navy. It was tough on not only him, but the people in his life. For the most part, he’d always put his career first. His life had always been on a set track, and although there were plenty of setbacks, he forged ahead until he got where he was today. 
And then he met you. Fell in love with you. Finally knew what it meant to have someone in his corner who was just his. Who knew him for him only, not as Goose’s kid, or Mav’s protege.
For the first time in his life, he could actually see himself spending the rest of it with you. Marriage, house, kids, grandkids—the whole shebang.
That was his first mistake. The more he thought about what life could look like with you, the more he thought about what your life could look like without him. What would happen if something happened to him and he didn’t make it back from this next mission coming up in a few weeks. 
He thought about his mom and how she lost his dad—her husband. The man she thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with. 
Bradley’s thoughts grew quite grim after that. Countless what if’s and thinking about every possible outcome and he eventually made up his mind. He had to break up with you. 
He didn’t want to. Not by a long shot. You were probably the best thing that ever happened to him in his thirty plus years of life. But deep down, he knew that it was the right thing to do. He was about to leave for six, seven months, with little to no contact with anyone who wasn’t Navy. That would definitely take a toll on your relationship. You’d never been through something like this before, and there really was no way to prepare you for what it would be like. 
You would worry about him every single hour of every single day, he knew that for a fact. Bradley barely remembered what it was like when his dad was away because he was so young, but he did remember how worried his mom was all the time.
Looking back, he understood now. He didn’t want that for you. The worry would hold you back from other things you wanted to do in life, things that brought you joy and gave you purpose. 
With the mission creeping up on him faster than he would’ve liked, he knew he had to do it sooner rather than later. 
That was how Bradley found himself on your doorstep right now, pushing down his guilt by telling himself over and over that breaking up with you was in your best interest. He hadn’t called beforehand to tell you he was coming by, so when you answered the door and beamed brighter than the stars when your eyes landed on him, he almost wanted to chicken out. 
“Hi!” You exclaimed, immediately pulling him into a warm hug. His arms closed around you out of instinct, thumb rubbing over the sliver of exposed skin at your waist, nose nudging its way against your neck the way he always did when you embraced him. 
He inhaled the scent of the lotion you loved to use, that flowery one that sometimes made him sneeze. You always said you’d buy a different one the next time you went to the store, but you always forgot. He didn’t mind it at all though. A small bout of allergies was nothing compared to the inevitable smattering of apology kisses you pressed to his face when you realized you’d forgotten. 
Fuck, this was going to be way harder than he thought. 
Your hands made their way up his biceps to cup his cheeks, eyes darting around his face. “What’re you doing here? Oh my god, did we have something planned? I’m so—” 
“No.” He gave his head a shake, offering you a smile. “No, we didn’t have anything planned. I just…wanted to see you. To talk to you.” 
“Come in, come in, I was just about to start dinner,” You hummed, escaping his embrace with an arm hooked through his to tug him over the threshold. “Trying a new recipe I found the other day, not sure if it’ll turn out good or end up being a shitshow, but—well, you can help me be the judge of that, I guess!” 
“Is it okay if we talk first?” 
If you were confused, you didn’t show it, just changed direction seamlessly, making your way to the couch instead of the kitchen. You sat down, patting the cushion next to you for him to settle on and he did, rubbing his clammy palms against his thighs. 
“Is everything okay?” 
Everything was far from okay, he wanted to say. Instead he inhaled a deep breath before his next words. 
“I wanted to tell you I’m shipping out in a few weeks.” 
Your face fell a little, but you nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. What do we do? Is there anything you can tell me? Like, what’s the best way to get in touch with you, when’s the best time, that kind of stuff? Or is sending letters better? Sorry, I feel like I’m asking a lot of questions. I don’t—I’ve never really done anything like this before, so—” 
“I think we should break up.” He blurted. 
You hesitated before answering, blinking at him like you’d somehow heard him wrong. “What?” 
“It’s hard having someone overseas for a long time, even more so when it’s a partner. It was really hard on my mom, and hard for me having to watch her worry like that for months, and I—I don’t want that for you.” He said quietly, not daring to meet your eyes until he gave his poor excuse for an explanation on why he was doing the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do to you. 
The moment he’d realized he’d fallen in love with you, he’d promised himself he would never abandon you, never break your heart or your trust, and here he was, doing that exact thing. It was tearing him apart inside. 
“I don’t want you to have to go through all that, so it’s just better if we—that we break up now. Before I go.” 
“What are you doing?” 
“I’m sorry. It’s for the best.” 
“Why are you doing this?” Your voice broke just after the last word, swallowed up by a hitched inhale of a breath that had his resolve wavering just the slightest bit. He could barely look you in the eyes the whole time, and now…he didn’t think he could stand the sadness and hurt flooding every single one of your beautiful features. 
“All the worrying and the uncertainty of not knowing what’s happening, I don’t—it wouldn’t be fair to you. I care about you too much to put you through all of that.” 
You were silent for the longest time, eyes glued to the floor as you processed the information. He thought you were about to start crying with the way your brow creased, but when you finally looked back up at him, your gaze had hardened. “Did these last six months mean nothing to you? You’re just gonna throw everything away because what—you don’t think I can handle it?” 
They meant everything to me, he wanted to say. You mean everything to me. 
If he was really being honest with himself, it was him who couldn’t handle it. Still, he forged on, thinking it best to just rip off the bandaid. He could live with being the asshole if it meant sparing you from the terrible experience of him being god knows how many miles away for months. 
“I’m sorry. I wish you nothing but happiness, Y/N. You deserve better than anything I could ever give you.” 
“You wish me nothing but happiness?” You chuckled humorlessly, shaking your head. Bradley’s eyes tracked you across the room as you paced back and forth, guilt ridden expression on full display. All he wanted to do was take all of it back; to kiss you senseless and tell you everything was going to work out, but he couldn’t. He’d burned the bridge, cut the rope. Broke your heart. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He probably was. “Screw you, Bradley. I mean it.”
“I’m sorry.” He repeated, for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was all he could say. 
“Get the fuck out of my house.” 
“Y/N, I—” 
You rushed at him, pushing, shoving, sending him stumbling step by step towards the front door until he almost crashed into it had he not managed to pull it open a split second before you shoved him outside. He’d never forget the look of betrayal in your eyes right before you slammed the door in his face. 
Bradley forced his feet to take him back to his car, then to drive away before he could have a chance to even try and make things better. He’d most likely end up making things much, much worse. Though he didn’t think it could get any worse with the way he was feeling about himself right now. You were angry at him, and you had every right to be. 
But had he lingered at your door only moments after, he would’ve heard the thump against the wood that was you sliding down to the floor and the sob that escaped your mouth. 
All because of him. 
-------
Bradley was happy to finally be coming back home after ages away, but then he realized it—he didn’t have anyone to tap him out this time. His mind jumped to you first, but there was no chance in hell you’d be there for him. You’d probably moved on months ago. Forgotten about him. And with Mav away on another deployment, he really had no one. 
His chest ached the longer he stood at attention, jaw clenched tighter than he meant it to be as he watched the rest of his squad get tapped out by their loved ones. Coyote’s parents, Fanboy’s sisters, Hangman’s nieces and nephews, Phoenix’s girlfriend. They were all emotional reunions, and Bradley was happy for them, he really was. But it sucked being the one with nobody there for him. 
He wasn’t expecting the soft tap on his arm when it came. He thought it was a mistake at first; someone else’s family bumping into him accidentally, so he didn’t move. But when the hand didn’t leave its place wrapped loosely around his bicep, Bradley knew it really was for him. He turned around, squinting against the blinding sunlight to see who’d come for him. 
“Hi.” You said softly, hand dropping back down to your side. He couldn’t help but let himself take you in, eyes drinking in every single achingly familiar detail of you until you shifted nervously under his intense gaze. You looked so beautiful he almost felt dizzy, just like he remembered but at the same time somehow even better. 
“You came.” He said, disbelieving. He could still hardly believe you were actually here. 
“I promised you I would.” 
“But that—that was before…everything happened. Why are you—what’re you doing here?” The last thing he wanted to sound like was ungrateful, because he was quite literally the opposite, but his mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that despite him breaking your heart seven months ago, you still remembered what you’d promised him in the very beginning of your relationship. 
“What does it mean to tap someone out?” You asked quietly, tracing a finger along the planes of Bradley’s bare chest. Your legs were tangled under the covers, both of you still basking in the aftermath of getting reacquainted with each other again after Bradley had been out of town attending a weeklong training exercise. 
His skin was still damp with sweat, but you didn’t mind one bit, too busy exploring the expanse of muscle shifting under his bronzed skin again. “In military terms, I mean.” 
He chuckled, hiding a content smile into the hair at the crown of your head. “That’s a weird question.” 
“Humor me, Bradshaw.” 
“Yes ma’am.” Bradley stroked a rough palm down the smooth skin of your arm, taking a few beats to come up with an answer that would make sense. “Tapping out is a super long standing tradition in pretty much all military units, I think. It comes at the end of a mission, when we’ve come back to base.” 
His arm repositioned itself under your head as he scooted closer to the warmth radiating from your body, nose nuzzling deeper against you just so he could engrain the smell of your lingering fruity scented shampoo into his memory forever. 
How you still smelled so good even after your…physical activities just before this was beyond him, but he loved it. 
“An aviator’s loved ones are usually the ones to do it. Friends, family, those kinds of people. When you tap out your aviator, literally you’re releasing them from formation. But I guess it’s kind of a gesture that means…you’re home.” 
Your wandering fingers stilled against his skin, lingering right above his heart. “Can I ask you something?” 
“Go for it.” 
“Who usually taps you out?” 
Bradley remained silent. It was an innocent question, he knew that. He’d told you a little bit about his parents, and you were just curious. Still, it sent a pang of sadness through his chest whenever he thought about what it would’ve been like if they were still around today. 
He cleared his throat, sniffing once. “Usually Mav. Or sometimes one of my squad’s family. If no one can, I just gotta wait til everyone else is done.” 
“I wanna do it.”
“What?” 
“I’m gonna be there next time you come back from a mission. To tap you out.” 
“I appreciate it, honey, I do. But you don’t need to.” 
“I want to.” You said firmly, pulling away from him to prop yourself up on your elbow and look him in the eye. You looked damn serious too. He raised a quizzical brow. “You said that to tap someone out means to tell them they’re home. I want to be the one to tell you you’re home. Here. With me.” 
Bradley opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then snapped shut when no words came out. He really was at a loss for words. No one had ever done that before. Sure, Mav’s offer was always a good one to fall back on, but Bradley had never had someone he cared about as much as he did about you telling him they were going to be there for him. 
The next best thing he could think of instead of saying anything at all was to kiss you. So he did. 
He pushed himself up towards you, sliding a hand around the nape of your neck and pressing his lips against yours. Not bruisingly hard, but enough to let you know he was all in. The other hand curled around your shoulder, splaying across your back to bring you back in closer to him, until your chests were flush and you could feel his heartbeat thundering under your palm.
He was home. You were his home. 
“I told you I’d be here to tap you out, and I meant it.” You said simply, holding his gaze. “I keep my promises, Bradshaw. Even after the way you left things.” 
Red hot guilt crept its way through his chest like vines, bringing all the memories of the last time you saw each other right back up to the surface, even after how hard he’d tried to shove them all down. If there was one thing he regretted in life, it was how he left you that night. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for that one. 
“I don’t even know what to say, Y/N, I—” 
“Then let me say something.” You blurted, wringing your hands. Bradley nodded instantly, still too dumbfounded to reply. “I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to say to you today for months. I don’t even know if I should.” 
“You should.” He encouraged, nodding quickly. He’d always wanted you to be able to speak your mind with him. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear it.” 
“Okay. Okay, well first of all, you’re an asshole, Bradley.” 
He nodded again. He deserved at least that much. “I am. Absolute asshole, I know.” 
“But I never stopped loving you. Even though I was angry and sad and confused as fuck as to why you would do that to me, I still loved you. And eventually, I realized that it wasn’t anything I did wrong. You were scared. Of losing me, of me losing you. So you decided it was your responsibility to pull the ripcord before you crashed and burned.” Bradley winced slightly at the comparison and you grimaced at your own poor choice in words. “I—sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 
“It’s okay. You’re right. You didn’t deserve that.” 
“You said you didn’t want me to worry while you were gone, well, I did that anyways.” You chuckled, like you were remembering a fond memory instead of the constant state of anxiety you’d been in. “But instead of worrying that the man I love might not make it home, I was terrified that if you didn’t come home, I’d spend my whole life replaying our last conversation in my head. Wondering if there was something I could’ve said or done so you wouldn’t have given up on us so easily.” 
“You think that was easy for me? Sweetheart, walking away from you was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my whole life.” 
“Sure seemed pretty easy.” You scoffed lightly, only a tad spiteful. A low blow, you realized, when Bradley stiffened for a split second, but you held steady. 
“It wasn’t.” His reply was immediate and firm as could be, but somehow, that didn’t make you feel any better. “You have to understand, breaking things off was the last thing I wanted to do. But I couldn’t—I thought that if I didn’t, you’d wait for me.” 
“I would’ve waited, Bradley! I did wait for you! For you, I'd wait forever because I love you, but you didn’t even give me that choice. You made the decision on your own instead of talking to me about it. That was what hurt the most.”  
“I’m sorry.” Bradley said quietly, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers laced through yours almost tentatively, feeling so familiar but so foreign at the same time. There was a point in your life where you never thought that concept would apply to Bradley. “I never should’ve left like that, I wish I could take it all back.” 
“I think I understand now why you did it. I understand that fear that comes with the experience of losing a loved one like that. But Bradley, you’re not responsible for my feelings. And I don’t care how scared you get, I’m not going anywhere. From now on, we work things out together, no matter what you think is best.” 
“From now on? Does that mean…?” 
“You’re my home, Bradley Bradshaw.”
Bradley took your face in his hands and he kissed you, long and hard, pouring every ounce of pent up feelings he’d been bottling up for the past seven months into it. Pain, fear, love, hope—all of it. You were never one to believe in such emotion being able to convey itself through a simple physical action, but now you could honestly say you understood it. 
Your hands spread across the broadness of his back, fingers pressing into the crisp starch of his uniform like you were afraid of letting him go , even though he was home and everything was okay now. Losing him the first time made you angry. You didn’t even want to imagine possibly losing him a second time. 
He drew back, only far enough to press his lips to your forehead, hands still holding you close as could be. “Thank you for coming.”
“I don’t make a habit of breaking my promises.” 
“C’mon, I wanna introduce you to the squad.” He said softly, lacing his fingers through yours. The way he all but bounded over to the group of aviators a little ways away was almost boyish, as was the excitement in his voice when he approached them. “Hey everyone, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Bradley announced, sliding a hand around to the small of your back. 
Everyone’s eyes turned on you, conversations petering to a gradual stop as they looked between you and Bradley. You shifted nervously, suddenly feeling unsure with all the attention on you, but Bradley’s thumb rubbed along your skin, soothing you just a bit. “This is Y/N. My girlfriend.” 
The tall blond reacted the quickest, snapping loudly before aiming a finger in your direction, along with a shiny smile. “Wait, I know you! You’re the one in that photo Rooster keeps tucked in his helmet. Lemme tell you, he looked at that picture every damn day, it was like—” 
Bradley let out a very forced laugh, aiming a not-so-subtle daggered glare at the other man. “Okay, Hangman! That’s okay, I really don’t think—” 
“You’re a real saint, taking this one back. If I ever pulled the shit he did, my car would’ve been keyed to all hell when I came home.” Hangman chuckled, giving his head a shake. 
“Hangman. Shut. Up.” 
“Don’t tell me to shut up, you shut up!” 
“You’re the only one talking!” 
“Alright, alright, you’re both grown men here,” The dark haired woman sighed, turning towards you. “At least, I hope so.” 
You chuckled at that, casting a glance over at Bradley to find him already looking back at you, the back and forth with Hangman already long forgotten given the way he was smiling at you, like you were the force that made the world go round. Taking you in under his arm, he dotted a kiss to your hairline as your fingers came up to intertwine with his again, watching you interact with his squad like you’d known them for years. 
It was everything he ever wanted. And now that he had it, he’d never be dumb enough to let it go again. 
His mind drifted back to his parents’ fate— how they never got to live out their life together. How there was no guarantee about anything when it came to Bradley’s own fate with you.
And sure, it was scary to be so uncertain about the future, but you’d both climb that hill together when the time came. For now, Bradley could let himself be content. This second chance at a life with you wasn’t one he was planning on taking lightly, not by a long shot. 
“Let’s get off this damn carrier and hit the town! Drinks at the Hard Deck, last one there buys the first round!” Hangman’s drawling voice drew Bradley out of his thoughts, just in time to let the words sink in.
You, on the other hand, stifled a giggle at the sight of seeing a group of full grown adults scatter as fast as Bradley’s friends did. Watching Hangman nearly shove Coyote to the ground upon seeing their cars were parked next to each other was something you’d never not get a kick out of. 
But Bradley, he didn’t seem as worried about it all. In fact, he walked leisurely with your hand firmly in his, swinging both of them between the two of you as you made your way to your own car. 
“Aren’t you worried you’ll be the last one there?” 
“I’ll buy the round, I don’t care.” He shrugged. “I wanna spend some time with my girl.” 
“Your girl.” You hummed, giving his hand a squeeze. “Gotta say, I’ve missed hearing that.” 
“I’ve missed saying it. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, honey. Starting with, do you or do you not have a voodoo doll made in my image that you stabbed with pins when I was away because I broke your heart?” 
You scoffed, letting out a not so attractive snort. “Bradley, I mean this in the most respectful way possible—what the hell are you talking about? Where would you even get that idea?”
“I—uh, I had a dream about it? A few weeks into deployment.” He admitted sheepishly, cheeks burning red in embarrassment. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “You don’t, right?” 
“Don’t be ridiculous.” You replied, giving his chest a firm pat. You didn’t have a voodoo doll of him, of course, but playing along was worth it just to see Bradley squirm. 
“Wait, wait, wait, but you didn’t say no.” 
“I didn’t.” 
“So you do?” 
“I didn’t say that either. But if you’re not sure, I’d watch yourself the next couple weeks.” 
His brows furrowed in confusion and a bit of fear as he watched you walk away from him with some bounce to your step. “I…really don’t like the sound of that. Hang on, get back here. Explain, please!” 
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blossomthepinkbunny · 3 months
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Vivzepops fetishization of queer men and the lack of Sapphic content in HH and HB
I found it a bit dissapointing that Charlie and Vaggie had very little interactions that could be read as romantic or sexual, especially since they are the supposedly the main couple of Hazbin Hotel and have been together the longest out of most of the couples in HH and HB.
Of course having more casual representation is also fine but the most memorable thing about their relationship was the quickly resolved argument they had when Charlie found out about Vaggies past. I've seen different opinions about how they were handled as a pair.
I understand when someone says that they enjoyed a more relaxed couple with subtle, realistic interactions, interactions that are often overlooked just because both characters are female.
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But I can also agree, that they were really not a stand-out couple (wich is weird since Charlie is the main Character) and that it was a bit dissapointing to not see a lot of content for them.
Now the main issue I found with this is that in Vivzepops stories there is a definitive lack of sapphic content. It sometimes seems like women are sexless unless they are with a man. But two men can be sexual and openly affectionate (romantically too). At first I didn't really understand why I felt weird about Chaggie as a couple, so I looked at all the implied/canon ships in Helluva and Hazbin (including past relationships).
Implied/canon couples between a man and a woman:
-Millie and Moxxie
-Blitzø and Verosika
-Stolas and Stella
-Millie and Chaz
-Beelzebub and Vortex
-Sir Pentious and Cherry Bomb
-Adam and Lute
-Lucifer and Lilith
Implied/canon couples between two men:
-Stolas and Blitzø
-Asmodeus and Fizzarolli
-Moxxie and Chaz
-Angel Dust and Husk
-Vox and Valentino
Implied/canon couples between two women:
-Charlie and Vaggie
Now please tell me if I missed any, but these were the ones I could think of.
Honorable mentions include Loona & Vortex, Blitzø & Striker, Blitzø & Chaz and Blitzø & Fizzarolli. But I didn't put these on there because they're either one-sided or don't have enough romantic content.
Now it's very easy to see the difference between representation for queer men in comparison to queer women in these shows. The only relevant (im not counting Background characters) Sapphic relationship there is, is Chaggie. And it's completely underrepresented when compared to the content the man x woman or man x man ships get (not to mention the total absence of gender-queer characters).
One of Millie's and Moxxie's jokes is that they're so in love, that they're almost always cuddling, holding hands, talking sweet or just straight up making out with eachother (I'll talk about Millie a bit later). Sir Pentious had multiple scenes dedicated to him trying to confess to Cherry Bomb or just crushing on her in general.
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Stolas' and Blitzø's relationship has become one of the main topics of Helluva Boss and they get a Backstory and explicit aswell as dramatic scenes for them as a couple. The same goes for Asmodeus and Fizzarolli (except that their love isn't as important). Angel Dust and Husk get a song and part of an episode for their relationship to develop.
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Here i'd also have to mention that by the list I made Vivzepop's fetish for queer men is very prevalent. Most of the couples between men and women are either past relationships or they get very little attention to them. The only ships that often get special focus, development or explicitly romantic/sexual focus are ships with two men (no matter if their dynamics are even good, healthy etc.).
Now for Millie there are different ways you could talk about her situation with relationships. In general I think that everyone can agree that Millie lacks Character and is a good representation for the neglect of the female characters. Most of her moments revolve around Moxxie in a way and she hasn't had precise characterization so far.
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Millie's relationship with Moxxie is sweet and simple and is generally one of the better things about Helluva Boss (if you ignore Millies lack of personality wich really pulls the couple down for me). Now the Episode "Exes and Oohs" shows the mutual Ex of Millie and Moxxie. Chaz dated both of them and as we see in the episode affected both of them very negatively. At the start we literally see Millie freak out and destroy a bunch of stuff, just because she saw Chaz on the street.
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Yet Millie's relationship with him is never explored further. All we know is that she dislikes him and that he's a giant asshole. Whereas Moxxie get's a whole Backstory and episode plot about him and Chaz. No focus is given to Millie at all even though Chaz is the ex of BOTH of them.
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Another thing that I wanna point out is Millie's possible Bisexuality. Now im not so sure for this point because I couldn't find genuine confirmation on wether Millie is actually confirmed to be Bisexual or if it's just a headcannon. So take this with a grain of salt BUT if Millie is Bisexual then she perfectly shows how little Vivzepop cares about Sapphic representation. What does Moxxie get to confirm him as Bisexual? An ex of the same gender (also multiple explicit flashbacks with him), a whole discussion about his queer identity and a scene where he literally says that he's Bisexual. Moxxie is pretty good Bisexual representation in that regard.
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What does Millie get? Nothing. Again I don't know if she's genuinely also Bisexual or if it's ever been confirmed but it'd also be pretty weird if Vivzepop apparently cares so much about queer representation and then doesn't confirm any female characters as actually queer.
I think a lot of people have talked about her blatant fetishization of queer men and I think that that's also mainly why I feel weird by the lack of attention on Vaggie and Charlie as a couple.
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I sorta wish I could enjoy a more toned-down and realistic couple in these shows, but when I see that a ship like Vox and Alastor (wich isn't canon nor would it even happen since Alastor is Aroace) is talked about more than the actual main character's relationship I just don't like it.
There's so much more you could say about poor queer representation by Vivzepop (like the fact that she's fine with people ignoring Alastors Aroace identity, and the stereotypes etc) I mainly wanted to talk about the neglect of her female cast in terms of sexuality.
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lxkeee · 3 months
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I absolutely love your writing!! And don't get me wrong, I love Lucifer, but they way you write Azreal and the Eveningstar family lives in my head 24/7. The AU where reader ends up with Azrael is my absolute fav to come back to, along with the main series it stemmed from. I'd love to see more content of him in general. I've been driving myself crazy imaging a part 2 to the AU with Lucifer wanting to reconnect with reader and having this family unit with them, only to realize that he lost them completely when he fell and that they've moved one and found happiness without him. Very hurt/no comfort for Luci while reader finally experiences a returned unconditional love with Azrael.
TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN
—ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE
Pairing: Azrael Eveningstar x Seraphim Angel! Reader
Genre: angst
Warnings: hurt and no comfort for our short king
Notes: an alternate universe where [y/n]'s family is complete, Xavier doesn't have any daddy issues nor has any hatred for Charlie as he doesn't give any crap about her and Lucifer (well, he did at some point but forgave them), where it was simply the wrong person and wrong time. Where it was Azrael who is endgame. This isn't canon to the fanfic storyline, simply an au.
Additional notes: I LOVE IT WHEN READERS WANT MORE AZRAEL CONTENT OMG
CH. 1 | CH. 4 | NAVIGATION
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They finally have done it. Hazbin Hotel is finally booming in business, many sinners are finally checking in and giving redemption a try.
Though, Lucifer cannot help but be nervous. Heaven or specifically, the Seven Virtues requested a meeting with him and his daughter and along with Vaggie, they wanted to talk about the hotel and also about his punishment.
Why wouldn't he be nervous? The last time he was in a meeting with them, they absolutely crushed his hopes and dreams and to add to the fact that his first wife, now ex-wife is part of the organization.
Lucifer doesn't know how to handle it, he's afraid of how he'll act once he sees her and the fact that Charlie told him about his son that he left her with. Absolute guilt.
He misses her, he misses [y/n] so much and he regrets how he treated her. He neglected her, abandoned her and their son. Even after all these years, his heart still longed for her.
“Dad? You okay?” Charlie asked worriedly, holding her bag. Currently, they are waiting for the portal to heaven to open for their meeting tomorrow. She noticed that her dad seems to be in deep thought, she knows what's plaguing his mind—meeting his ex-wife again and seeing his son for the first time. She too is nervous about what will happen when that moment comes.
“The portal seems to be taking a long time to open.” Angel Dust snickered and Vaggie elbowed him on the side, somehow both Alastor, Niffty, and Angel Dust wanted to join them. Leaving the hotel underneath [f/n]'s care, another overlord who joined the hotel.
“You're really complaining when you're not even invited,” Vaggie muttered before turning to look at Alastor, “I am even surprised that even you also decided to join us, how come?” Vaggie deadpans at Alastor and the taller demon just laugh, radio static filling the air, “Myyy~! I am merely curious what the heavenly realms looked like. Nothing more~” He grins, quite mischievously. Vaggie narrowed her eyes at the radio demon.
Lucifer sighs and shakes his head and gives Charlie a small reassuring smile, “I'll be fine, I'm just a little... Nervous.” he admits softly and Charlie nodded in understanding, placing a hand over her father's shoulder. She understands him, she too is nervous in seeing her half brother. Last time she saw him, he was giving her judgmental looks.
“I'm sure we'll be fine... Maybe this will be your chance to reconnect with them?” Charlie suggested, hopeful that somehow the two families can find a neutral area to get along with each other. After all, she always wanted an older sibling or siblings in general. She hopes that she and Xavier can get along.
Lucifer smiled, he too is hoping that this meeting will be fruitful and won't go so horribly.
A golden portal opened in front of them and they looked at each other, nodding as they finally took a step inside.
Heaven, is very bright compared to hell. Too much white, gold, and blues.
The crew looked at Lucifer, urging him to take the lead as he did come from here. Lucifer sighs, despite the nervousness, he decides to approach the pearly white gates of heaven. Standing in front of the counter of Saint Peter. The others are following him.
“Welcome to heaven, can I get your names please?” Saint Peter asked, opening his book. Lucifer sighs, twiddling his thumbs nervously.
“Lucifer... Morningstar...” Lucifer says, almost a whisper. Cringing slightly as he watched the Saint slam his book close, “Oh... Fuck!” Saint Peter exclaimed with a nervous chuckle.
“Um... I wasn't aware that you will be visiting today...” the Saint said with an awkward chuckle, Angel Dust just smirked while Alastor just grins, clearly interested in what heaven has to offer.
Charlie stood nervously beside Lucifer, unsure what to do next.
“Saint Peter, please grant them access. They are here for an important meeting.” a young masculine voice says, surprising the hell citizens. Turning to look at the gate and their eyes widened to see an almost exact replica of Lucifer—except for the eyes and height.
Lucifer's eyes widened and Charlie can be seen to become more nervous as the young man approached their group.
Saint Peter eyes widened, not expecting to see the young general today. “R-right. Please, come in.. heaven officially welcomes you.” Saint Peter says, opening the gates wider for the group.
Lucifer couldn't think, his ears ringing as he looked at the newcomer. Lucifer examined the angel's appearance—an almost exact replica of him and of course, he knows those eyes very well. The same [e/c] eyes his ex-wife has. The angel wearing a white military-ish uniform with gold shoulder pads, elbow length black leather gloves and knee high leather black heeled boots.
Charlie gave his hand a gentle squeeze in assurance, he squeezed it back, grateful for her support.
Alastor grins, not expecting a twist in the scenario.
The young man turned to look at them with a gentle smile, “Greetings, I am Xavier. I am tasked with showing you guys where you will stay for tonight.” Xavier says.
Xavier looked at his obvious half family from hell, before, he had anger for them but because of his mother's influence, he was able to manage his anger on them. But it doesn't mean he'll accept Lucifer and Charlotte his family, he already has his own family in heaven. He doesn't need them.
“Please follow me and keep up.” Xavier says, almost emotionless. It's a habit of his, it might come off as rude or cold to people he just met but he doesn't care. His mother is the angel of kindness, he needs to inherit her kindness instead of his father's pride.
The hell citizens just looked at him with slight nervousness—aside from the smiling one—before eventually following him.
Lucifer just stared at the back of Xavier's head, the golden halo shining brightly against his light blonde hair. He wanted to speak to him but words wouldn't come out of his mouth. He just follows in silence, his demon kind just looking at him in worry—except Alastor, who just gave him a teasing grin.
They followed him, it took a while but they finally arrived at their destination. A large white mansion with black and gold accents, surrounded by fluffy white clouds and trees. Sunflower and tulip fields decorating the front garden. [Y/n]'s favorite flowers.
“This is where you'll be staying so please, come inside.” Xavier says, the gates to the large mansion opening for them.
They admired the scenery, it is completely different from hell. Clean and tidy. Almost blinding to the eye.
They finally arrived inside the large mansion, completely in awe with its exterior and interior designs.
“Don't worry about the palace being too crowded, it's just me and my family living here.” Xavier explained, ushering them to follow him. Walking towards the supposed living room, they weren't able to see the large family portrait on the wall as it was mounted on a wall that they couldn't see.
“I am surprised we're staying somewhere luxurious this time unlike last time. How come?” Charlie asked and Xavier gave her a raised eyebrow before sighing.
“The guest rooms are currently full while waiting for new buildings to be created for the new souls. The seven thought it would be a good idea if one of them houses you guys.” Xavier shrugs before continuing to tour them around. Angel whistling in admiration.
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“And this will be your room.” Xavier says as he showed Lucifer his room. The others are already settled in.
“Thank you.” Lucifer says, almost a whisper as he went inside the large luxurious room. Xavier nodded as he stood at the doorway.
“It's nothing, I'll get going now and if you need me, I'll be in the living room.” Xavier says before turning around to leave.
“Wait!”
Lucifer doesn't know what he was thinking, he just acted out on impulse. Xavier stopped, turning around to look at him with a raised eyebrow.
“What is it?” Xavier asked, looking down on him. Mom, why is he so small? He thought.
Lucifer gulped, clearly nervous, “Are you... My...?” he couldn't get all the words out as his ears were ringing.
“Son?” Xavier completed, crossing his arms to look at his blood father, “Yes.” he says flatly and Lucifer's breath hitched.
Xavier sighs, already done with this, “Look, I am going to be straight with you dear father of mine.” Xavier says flatly, Lucifer looking at the taller boy in front of him.
“Just because you're my blood father doesn't mean I want you back in my life, whatever you're trying to do. I don't welcome it. I couldn't care less about you or my half sister. Do you understand? So, stop. Don't give me and my family a hard time. You've done enough damage already.” Xavier says coldly, catching Lucifer off guard. The fallen angel's heart shattered at the boy's harshness.
“Excuse me, I still have work to do.” Xavier says as he quickly walked away. Lucifer nodded, almost robotic. He went inside the guestroom and cried.
Lucifer doesn't blame Xavier for acting that way. After all, he's a horrible husband and father to [y/n] and Xavier.
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Dinner was oddly awkward, a tension between the three blood relatives. Xavier didn't join them, opting to only have a drink instead.
“Aren't you going to eat?” Charlie asked hesitantly as she sat beside her dad, Xavier didn't bother looking up from his golden holographic screen that came from his wrist watch, his other hand typing into the hair and into the hologram.
“I'll eat later.” Xavier answers nonchalantly, they can clearly see him texting his mom.
M: Don't be too harsh on them sunshine.
X: I'm trying.
D: Well you better try harder, kiddo.
X: 🙄
X: What time will you come home?
D: Late as usual.
M: Indeed, there are still many things to finish but your father and I will make it quick to join you for dinner.
X: Alright, stay safe.
D: Love you, kiddo. Goodluck lol.
M: We will, sunshine. Love you<3
X: love you guys too.
Xavier was grinning slightly as he texted some people, Lucifer assumed it was [y/n] and somebody else he doesn't know of.
Lucifer avoided Xavier after that, clearly heartbroken. Lucifer assumes the D and M profiles meant Mom and Dad and Lucifer assumed that [y/n] remarried and he can clearly see how happy Xavier is talking to them.
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To shorten this all up, the meeting went smoothly. The Seven Virtues promised to fund the hotel and also asked for Lucifer's forgiveness for how harsh they treated him. Heaven took back his punishment and he can freely visit heaven anytime. Lucifer was able to find out that Azrael married [y/n] and she's happily married to the man. Though, she doesn't hate him and forgave him but she did make it clear that she doesn't want him back to her life and so did Xavier and Lucifer respected their wishes.
Finally returning back to hell, Lucifer was extremely heartbroken. He lost before he even got to start. But part of him is glad that [y/n] found a better man than him, someone who treats her better than him.
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End notes: I got a little lazy at the end lmao.
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the-panda-queen · 2 months
Text
Dateables and Side Characters Favorite Sleeping Position w/ You
this is part 2, part 1 is the brothers
cw: can be read platonically or romantic (except Luke- strictly platonic), gn reader
Luke: Loves to fall asleep in your lap while you both watch a movie. The second you wrap your arms around him like you're cradling a baby, he will fall asleep. Will adamantly deny it in all days ending in "Y".
Getting up to eat or go to the bathroom isn't much of an issue. He'll weakly wrap his arms around your neck to try and stop you. Again his grip isn't that strong. Carry him to his bed once you're done.
Barbatos: Does he even sleep? /j Not big on cuddling, finds it difficult to slip away in the early morning to do his duties as a loyal butler. Whenever you do sleep over he does enjoy falling asleep holding your hand while facing one another. He'll close his eyes and listen to your relaxed and steady breathing as he drifts off into sleep.
Will defiantly wake up if you leave the bed. Has a tray prepared with all your favorite snacks and will offer to make you a pot of tea. When going to the bathroom he'll give you your space and lay in bed awaiting your return.
Simeon: Loves to fall asleep with his face nestled in your hair and being the big spoon. Will wrap you in his arms and legs to ensure no one can take you from him.
He'll pretend to be asleep if you leave the bed. Once you return he'll still look peaceful and undisturbed. Wrap yourself in his arms again and he'll murmur a sweet "welcome back/ I missed you".
Diavolo: Make this demon prince the little spoon I beg you. Loves to be cuddled. Many don't approach him so casually because of his title so when you wrap him in your arms he melts faster than ice cream in death valley. He'll snuggle deeper into your arms with a smile on his face as he drifts off.
Before laying down he will come into the room with a tray of all your favorite snacks and drinks. He needs you to know that he prepared everything himself. Leave to go to the bathroom and he's wide- eyed and waiting. Feels 10x colder without your presence.
Raphael: Likes when you fall asleep with you head in his lap, he'll stroke your hair/ face while humming a soothing tune. Will sleep sitting up as he feels like he needs to be alert at a moments notice because some demons will try and take kidnap you.
Will feel you stir and get up, if you're going to get a snack he'll accompany you to the kitchen and, "Hey there's some of Solomon's cooking still in the fridge! You can have the first bite." He'll give you your space if you're going to the bathroom.
Thirteen: She loves when you nuzzle into her chest. The feeling of your warm steady breath calms her and lulls her into a blissful sleep. She'll wrap her arms around you, not wanting to let you go.
Good luck leaving her arms, let alone the room. Has tons of traps laid out, some you made together. If you manage to get out, congrats! Beel probably beat you to the kitchen and I'd imagine you're about to explode if you need the bathroom.
Mephisto: Honestly such a soft demon, practically purrs into your arms once alone. Will nuzzle himself into your chest. To keep up his façade of how a noble demon should act he'll make it sound like he's doing you a favor, as you're a precious part in Diavolo's dreams, so obviously this is why he has to cuddle with you to go to sleep. A happy human is good for everyone.
No reason to leave the room for a snack, just ring the little bell on his night stand and a butler or maid demon will be happy to get you anything you need. Has a bathroom connected to his room, hurry back. Would feel like a bad host if he doesn't check on you after a while, will knock on the door if you take too long.
Solomon: Likes when you rest you head on his chest. The fact that you want to be this close to him at all makes his head swirl. He'll wrap one or both his arms around you trying to feel in your heartbeats are in sync with his own.
He doesn't wake up if you need to leave the room, yet subconsciously he'll feel restless and move around on the bed as if searching you you. Once you return he sighs contently and wraps you in his arms once more.
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