#but rather one begins to see more and more clearly that life is only a kind of sowing time...

[blkkizzat]

ꨄ︎『Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader』ꨄ︎

Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader

18+ Minors - DNI

Summary: You shouldn't have left your phone out in the open bestie because now Toji just discovered his cute lil gf has a big slutty imagination and that means you're really in for it ❤︎ . CW: daddy/dilf kinks, humiliation, backshots, outdoor sex, toys, voyerism, breeding, overstimulation, lots of mentions of various kinks, light spanking, light spit play, meta concepts WK: 4.2k Black fem reader coded but no descriptors.

A/N: Y’all can blame my forgetting to take my adhd meds and my hangover yesterday for this one. I was laying on my bathroom floor regretting life choices, waiting on McDs Doordash and thinking up outlines for kinktober when this popped into my head. I thought it would be a quick drabble like 1k words to help my writers block with the "Bumpy Ride" Geto fic but lord knows I can't write shit under 3k, who am I foolin? I don’t even have a song inspo for how spontaneous and random this shit was lmfao but I still had to do a graphic for this one regardless (editing those notifications were hell). Edit- I lied the song inspo is: Girls Need Love Remix - Summer Walker ft. Drake.

Enjoy!

Imagine you are dating Toji and he finds out you secretly write Tumblr smut fics on the low. 

He comes over to your apartment one night after one of his ‘jobs’ ran late. He has a key, but is wondering where the hell you are as you usually greet him at the door. Going into your bedroom, he finally hears you in adjoining bathroom shower. 

Toji begins to strip down in order to join you but he barely has his shirt off before he notices your phone blowing up. 

Picking your phone up off the bed he sees 206 notifications from an app called “Tumblr”. 

Toji has no fucking clue what the hell a Tumblr is but his jealously starts to soar. He already made your ass go private on Instagram and deleted your Tiktok dances. He got tired of threatening every loser who tried to slide in your DMs or even leave a comment for that matter. 

Imagine his surprise when he unlocks your phone (of course he had made you give him the password) and instead he finds out his new vanilla-as-fuck girlfriend is actually a kinky cockwhore who loves writing character x reader stories about fictional men plugging any n' every one of her holes. Sometimes it was multiple men simultaneously, with their massive cocks bullying your readers until you had them crying. Not to mention them fucking you absolutely stupid in every scenario imaginable, with a huge daddy kink/love of dilfs to top it all off. 

Y/N clearly has type, Toji thought smugly as he saw some art on your page of these animated dilfs that looked similar to him.

But goddamn, some of this shit even he hasn’t considered doing with you yet. Honestly, he’s been holding himself back for your sake as you had been pretty shy at first. His sweet naive little college girl, yet here you were a filthy closeted slut this entire time. 

Tsk, Y/N been holding out on me, eh?

At this point you were probably a bigger freak than he was, he mused with an arched brow as he scrolled through what you called your ‘masterlist’.

It was nothing but a collection of pure unadulterated filth. 

More than anything though while going through your Tumblr, Toji is rather impressed at how popular you are. He reads your intro post where you deem yourself the ‘Self-proclaimed DILF Smut Queen’ and an evil grin appears on his face.

Toji abandons his plans to join you in the shower and he waits for you on your bed while he links-surfs through more of your so-called fics, drabbles and thirsts.

You made your own little pictures to go along with your dirty stories too? Aw, what a sneaky yet talented little whore he had. 

ꨄ

When you finally exit the shower, wrapped only in a big fluffy white towel and your hair pulled back into a ponytail, you are surprised to see Toji sitting shirtless on your bed. 

Toji had promised to be here hours ago. He never even sent a text saying he would be late and you’ve been bored waiting for him all evening so he could give you some of the attention you've been craving. 

Your body is already warm from the shower and your legs rub together as you are already feeling a bit horny just seeing him bare chested.

Walking toward the bed you are eager to go pounce on his lap. That is, until you see it’s your phone he’s scrolling through again without your permission.

You loudly sigh which made his head snap up to look at you.

You’re so ready to tell him off again and remind him your Insta is still private and you only use TikTok to mindlessly scroll, not post dance videos anymore when gives you a dangerous look.

You stop dead in your tracks.

Your eyes grow wide as saucers as you recognize what he’s actually looking at when waves your phone around tauntingly in his hands. 

No.No.No. Not this. Please god, not this!

But your worst fears are confirmed when he starts reading aloud with a huge shit eating grin. 

“You moaned loudly as you threw your head back and bucked against him hungrily. You knew you had to finish quickly unless you wanted his wife to come home to discover the babysitter on top of her husband, making a mess all over his face. His thick tongue lapped into your drenched folds and he spread your puffy pussy lips wider to suck and nip at your swollen clit….” 

Your mouth was agape in shock. You were a deer in headlights.

A million and one thoughts raced through your mind as Toji continued on. He swiped over to the next one, this time a daddy and breeding kink drabble.

“Or how ‘bout… ‘Take it all like the good little slut you are for daddy, Y/N’. ‘N-No daddy, please I can’t cum anymore!’ You babbled as you succumbed to the overstimulation of him ruthlessly breeding your stretched cunt and filling you as you squirted on his dick for the fifth time that night…” 

You could only continue to stand there and gawk at him. This couldn’t actually be happening to you right now.

“Ya really wrote all this nasty shit, Y/N?” Toji teased while still looking at your phone as he found more of your filthy smut to read aloud to you despite the horrified expression on your face.

You of course had written all that ‘nasty shit’ but most of it was before you started dating him, breaking a long dry spell.

You really weren’t one to run the streets and sleep around but you had some kinky ass fantasies and you not getting any action had you needing to express them somehow.

It’s not like you didn’t eventually plan to open up and share a few of your kinks with Toji down the line. But this was a relatively new relationship and Toji was still a bit intimidating to you. Even though Toji treated you with way more care and concern than he did anyone else you’ve seen him interact with, you still had an insecure fear that he would reject you for a few of your kinks. 

Your last boyfriend had called you a weirdo for wanting to call him daddy in bed, so you resolved then to no longer share that part of you.

Hell, not even your IRL friends knew what you got up to. Only the Tumblr followers and moots, who you all shared peaceful anonymity with, were familiar with you and your writing.

Fuck. You had finally found the perfect DILF daddy too, you didn't want to scare him away. 

You cursed yourself for even opening Tumblr earlier. You did so out of restlessness waiting on his ass to come over. You just were going to read a few fics before you realized you had a story in your drafts you never posted that just needed to be proofread.

Wanting to kill time you decided to edit and post it on a whim, not knowing the mess it would be getting you into now. 

“Earth to, Y/N.” Toji snapped his fingers, interrupting your thoughts.

"Where did my perverted baby’s little mind go off to now, huh? So obsessed with being ruined by imaginary cocks you can’t even respond to your own daddy.”

You could have combusted on the spot as you were sure there was more steam coming off you from embarrassment than from the hot shower you had just taken. 

But wait– wtf, your frazzled mind just connected the fact Toji had referred to himself as your daddy. 

Those words sinking in made your entire body tingle. Your pulse quickened as you chewed your bottom lip and fidgeted with the edge of your towel.

Was he also into this?

The fact was Toji was very into this and you were about to find out just how much he was.

Enjoying your reactions fully, Toji stood up and made his way toward you with a crazed look on his face.

“You’ve written 96 pieces of filth Y/N…”

He inched closer and you instinctively moved back. Every fiber of your body sensing the danger in front of you. You wondered if this is how the targets of his ‘jobs’ felt when he approached them. Toji never lied to you about what he did for work but you never felt like you were his prey, until now.

“You’ve been a very naughty girl, have you nothing to say for y’erself, princess?” 

“I-I-I-”, you stumble over your own words. This was all way too much, way too fast, for you to process in order to say anything coherent back to him.

“I-I-I-” Toji mocked your pathetic tone, an evil grin back on his face. 

“Lost your words, Y/N?”

Your body instinctively keeps moving back to keep distance between the two of you as he continues to advance on you.

“But you have so many words to say here, isn’t that right slut?”

Toji toyed with your phone in his hand, spinning it around.

“Slut. That’s what you liked to be called in these stories, eh? The dirty slutty whore with a sloppy cunt just ready to slime all over her daddy’s cock, yeah?”

You gulped as your back hit the glass of your bedroom balcony door with a ‘thud’. You had no more room to run while Toji closes in on you.

He pressed both of his massive hands against the glass as they framed your head, his body hovering over you. You couldn’t help but notice how much bigger than you he was as his frame enveloped you and blocked out the rest of the room. You were trapped.

Too nervous to look him in the eyes, you settled for his chest and Toji’s muscles flexed tantalizingly under your gaze. You lost yourself for a moment as the familiar scent of his heady masculine musk invaded your senses.

Your eyes roamed lower and lower before resting on the bulge beneath his sweats and you softly pant. 

“You’re staring at my dick like you want me to stuff that pretty little throat cunny of yours full. You aren’t making good use of your mouth right now anyway Y/N, might as well see how much of me it can fit.”

You looked away from him completely but that only ignites Toji's flames more.

“Look me in the eyes little girl...” Toji’s hand roughly grabbed your jaw and squished your cheeks together as he brought his face closer to yours.

“This shy act won’t cut it anymore, slut.”

His intensity was overwhelming you. Various emotions threaten to bubble to the surface as you squirm in his grasp and your eyes become glossy with tears.

“You didn’t think you finally had a man who would be into this wild ass shit, now did you?”

You wanted to question him further but you felt your gravity shift as the balcony door whipped open behind you. Toji ripped off the towel covering you as you practically tumbled backwards onto the small landing buttass naked.

The crisp fall night air hits your dampened skin giving you goosebumps. You shiver and immediately drop down in a crouch to cover yourself. 

“T-Toji!! Are you insane?!” You gasped at him in a hushed tone, your silence finally broken. 

Promptly, you scan the seemingly deserted neighborhood streets through the railing for any sign of movement or signal that someone else was outside.

To your relief there was no one in sight.

Thankfully this was a relatively quiet neighborhood and no one was ever really out at this time of night. Nevertheless the shock of it all was sending your nerves into overdrive.

“Toji my ass bitch. It’s daddy to you moving forward–,” he roared jerking you up off the ground, “–and we are going to do every single fucking thing your slutty mind has ever fucking written starting NOW.” 

Your eyes darted as around him if you wanted to run back inside but there was no getting past his brutish build as he quickly slammed the door shut, shaking the frame.

Frankly, you didn’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified as you had written some depraved ass shit over the past year in the midst of your cockdrought. Some of it you had never even seriously thought of actually doing IRL. 

“Let’s start right ‘ere, eh? Did you think I wouldn’t notice the description of the place in your little balcony story matched your own?” 

Your eyes almost popped out of your skull as you recalled what you wrote in that particular smut fic.

ꨄ 

“A-AH! N-NOOO TOJI, W-WAIIIIIIIT!” You whined through gritted teeth. 

You tried (and failed) not to release any noises from the unrelenting backshots Toji was currently giving you as he folded you over the balcony railing. The tips of your toes barely rested on the cold floor as your ass bounced back into him and had your clit throbbing when his heavy balls smacked against the sensitive nub.

You had previously only fantasized about Toji being this rough with you, but now that it was actually happening for real you couldn’t think straight. Your lungs burned from sucking in the frosty night air and your cunt pulsed from his thick girth stretching you open. 

Shockwaves ran along your body with every cruel thrust of his hips. The force of it reduced your legs to jelly and you were sure you would have collapsed had he not had you suspended like you were, between him and the railing. 

Toji seemed both unfazed by the cold and your cries for mercy as he shushed you with a harsh spank. He enjoyed the way your fat ass rippled under his heavy hand in the moonlight so much he gave you a few more for good measure.

Your tits violently swayed over the edge as one of your hands grasped the railing for stability and the other held your phone in front of you. Toji was making you dictate your story for him as he reenacted the play by play assault on your cunt.  

The bright screen you held was near blinding to your teary eyes. You mentally cringed as you knew it would act as a shiny beacon to view your activities if anyone walked by the small apartment complex or hell, even stepped out on their balcony. 

“T-Toj- Daddy, w-what ‘bout– neigh-h-b-bor-s?”

You managed to croak out over the sloshing of your cunt and slapping sounds of flesh that echoed into the atmosphere everytime he rammed into you. You couldn’t bear to look around to see if any of your neighbors had started to investigate.

“Pshhh, Fuck your neighbors Y/N! They clearly don’t have a cockcrazed baby to please that writes dirty little stories about imaginary men like I do.”

If you didn’t know better you would think he was actually jealous of the DILFs in your stories too from the way he was sadistically fucking into you. 

His thrusts caused your icy tears to run down your face and sent your tits bouncing into the wind. Your cold and neglected nipples hardened in the chill to the point of delicious pain.

“B-but- it's too c-cold out D-Daddy!”

“Mmn, yet your pussy feels warm enough, Y/N. Too hot even. This is for your benefit, you know–,” Toji stated matter-of-factly while he increases the speed his pounding into you, “–So you remember you have your own Daddy who will fuck you anyway you want, anytime you want…just, fuck, tell Daddy what his slutty baby needs.”

The way his hips are driving into your core knocks the wind out of you. Toji tightens the already brutal grip on your hips which assists him in pressing deeper into your cunt. The movement has you almost slipping. You nearly drop your phone off the balcony when your toes stepped in the growing pool of shared juices flowing down your legs and collecting at your feet.

“Hold that shit tight for daddy baby, got it? You drop it and we gotta start over, yeah? I’ll make you walk downstairs ass naked just like this to get it too,” Toji breathed out huskily. 

You realize you’ve never heard him sound this needy before now.

“What’s next, in y’er lil’ story huh?… Speak up so I can hear it over this messy cunt.” 

There was an edge of desperation for you clear in his tone. Although to your dismay it causes your body to gush around him harder meaning you would have to speak up even louder as your pussy squelches grew more vulgar in volume. 

You nearly shouted out the next part groaning and mixing in incoherent babbles throughout the smut filled paragraph as Toji doesn't slow to help you. If anything Toji picks up speed and grows even harder inside of you as he's encouraged by his baby's filthy words.

“...H-he- lifts your leg, r-resting your knee on the edge of the bal-c-cony. T-T-The angle allows h-him, fuck, deeper access to your c-cunt. Ah-h-h-a clear view of his c-cock badgering your core f’er a-anyone who happens to p-pass belowwww-ohmygod. Y-you seeeeee s-stars as he callously s-slams into your c-cervix, shitshitshit, n-nearly fa-fa-fucking you off the balcony if not for his s-strong hold on youuuu–ah. Y-you violently t-tremble as you c-cum s-screamiiiiing, not fuckdaddyfuckkkk, caring if your n-neighbors could s-see or h-hear you any l-longer.”

“HA! Is that so–” Toji lifts your leg just like you wrote in your fic, “–guess I am gonna to have to keep fucking this tight cunt until you no longer give a fuck about anything else but this dick, eh?”

You hear what sounds like a door slide open near you and you begin to whine about your neighbors again before Toji jerks your head back by your ponytail to whisper in your ear. 

“I wouldn’t worry that nasty, pretty little head of yours about these neighbors babydoll…” 

The new angle allows Toji to bury himself deeper into you just like you told in your story and his tip hits your cervix so hard you think he might actually penetrate. 

“...if I were you Y/N... I would think about how daddy’s needy lil whore is gonna make it through an entire day of classes tomorrow with clamps on your nipples and a remote control vibrator up your cunt.”

He licked the side of your face and spit in your mouth before carelessly pushing your head back. You loudly moaned as his bruising grip returned to your meaty hips as his nonstop aggressive assault on your cunt proceeds.

You feel yourself getting close, your eyes rolled back into your head and drool seeped down the corners of your mouth. You cursed your weakness for this shit as you felt yourself give into the pleasure. You surprise even yourself as you never actually thought this kinda sex could be so fucking good you wouldn’t care about shit else for real. 

“Goddamn mamas, squeezing me so hard–” Toji’s hips snapped into you with every syllable, his voice becoming more animalistic, “–you want me to fill this pussy up? Mmm, I fucking know you do the way she’s milking me. Fuck, might even put a baby in you, give ‘gumi a sibling. We won’t be able to do some of that kinky shit you wrote unless I knock a baby up in this cunt, ya know.”

Of course, Toji being the sexy ass DILF straight out of your dreams would love breeding kinks too.

His ramblings cause you to tighten and clench around him even more. You’ve wanted to beg for him like this since you first started dating. Just thinking of the words spilling out of your mouth nearly pushed you over the edge.

You were so close to release.

“I-Inside me D-Daddy pleasepleaseplease!,” you slobbered out, struggling to make sentences from all the pleasure within you.

“F-fill me– fill me D-Daddy, knock this tight little cunt up, w-want it– want it– w-want it–!!!”

Your voice caught in your throat and you nearly choked once you felt your peak hit. Your pussy sent tremors around his dick as you creamed around him. You can't think of anything else but him inside of you.

You just came but Toji allowed you no rest. He still pummeled inside you as he chased his own high and slurred vulgar curses of praise for his pretty lil’ whore's dirty mind, while planning the next debaucherous smut for you both to reenact.

“Ya think it's too late now f’er prime next day delivery for those toys, baby? Fuck, look that up while y’er still holding that phone.”

You didn’t even realize you still had your phone in your hand but were just thankful you didn’t drop yet. You didn't think it would survive the fall.

Groaning you tried to rally the strength to even lift the phone to face unlock when you locked eyes with someone below. You instantly recognized the person as the elderly woman with the flower garden from down the street.

The old lady had always been very kind to you, making pleasant conversation, offering you fresh flowers for your kitchen and praising you for how reminded her of her own sweet young daughter at your age. 

Unfortunately for you both, she was casually walking her two mini poodles when her eyes were affronted with you practically hanging off the balcony. A blissed out expression plastered across your face while Toji held you, battering your slick pussy full of his thick cock.

The old woman’s eyes widened in terror as if she actually witnessed a crime scene as she panicked, yanking her two dogs away swiftly back in the direction of her home. You knew you would have to take the long way home from now on.

Nevertheless Toji, who was none the wiser and wouldn’t give a single fuck regardless, merely continued planning out your next smut fic enactment.

“Nah fuck it, we’re going to the library tomorrow. See how many pages you can read of that dull ass biology book while y’er warming my cock... Tch, or should we do the one where y’er fucking the coach in the men’s locker room, whacha think baby?”

"Hmmmnmmrgh", you could only moan in reply.

You were already near hyperventilating from your own climax, the shame of now having to avoid your neighbor for life and Toji’s fiery body creating a storm of friction clashing with the freezing temperatures.

But your senses were now wholly overloaded once you felt him reach down to pinch and rub at your clit. 

“Cum again with Daddy baby, shit, can ya do that f’er me?” Toji sounded like he was close and he slapped your clit even harder causing you to scream out.

Cockdrunk and overstimulated you could no longer communicate as your entire body felt like it was an extension of your pussy. The thick fluids flowing out of your body increased the sizable puddle already at your feet. You utterly surrendered to the feeling and your body wrecked with pleasure electrifying you. 

You almost blackout as you feel his cock bust hot seed into your tummy melting your insides and causing you to cum all over again.

"Fuck, that’s it, take it all. Can't wait to see this belly and these tits full mama."

The aftershock of your orgasm feels near endless as Toji continues to fuck thick ropes of his cum into you. 

Losing track of time you weren’t sure how long it was before Toji finally pulled out and took you off the railing. Holding on to you so you can balance and turning you to face him he places you down on your unsteady feet. You immediately bury your head into his chest as his heat envelops your cold skin. Your breathing finally starts to calm in his embrace. 

“So good f’er daddy babygirl,” he murmurs into your hair, savoring your scent.

“Warm bath, yeah?”

“Sure, but you gotta carry me daddy.”

You yawned while Toji’s already lifting you princess style in his strong arms. You were exposed still in the night but at the same time you have never felt safer. 

You curl further into his warmth as he kisses your forehead and finally brings you back inside.

Once inside the bathroom Toji sets you down on the edge of the tub while the water runs and he leaves to grab some fresh towels.

You can’t help but feel euphoric as you smiled to yourself. You are too giddy!

You finally have the DILF daddy you always wanted and could be open about your kinks without any judgment. 

However your mood shifts when Toji returns. You give him an incredulous look as you see your pink waterproof vibrator in his hands. 

Toji turns it on and saunters over to you, his scar twisted into a devilish smirk.

“95 more fuckfics to go ma’, we don’t have time to waste…”

Fucking hell, you had entirely forgotten about the overstimulation in the bath drabble. 

You quiver in both anticipation and distress as you aren’t sure how your completely spent and nearly frozen body is gonna be able to cum four more times tonight. 

Could there ever be too much of a good thing?

You weren't sure what those limits were exactly.

“Ya know, Y/N–," Toji started slyly, interrupting your thought.

”If I hit up Shiu and you asked him nicely with that pretty lil' mouth, I’m positive he would be down for some double daddy Eiffel Tower action.”

However from the feral grin on Toji’s face he appeared determined to test those limits with you.

You could thank your Tumblr smut fics for that. 

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

A/N: I honestly have to say I am a bit impressed with myself as I’ve never finished a story in one day before ever (although it took most of today to proofread and I still think there might be errors soz). Hopefully this is a good sign for powering through those Kinktober fics once classes start up again this Weds. Also If there is any interest possibly a PT 2 after Kinktober featuring a threesome with Shiu at his office.

Edit: errors/grammar fixed as of 9/26.

This one goes out to all of us dilf smut queens who simp Toji ❤︎

Please reblog to have DILF Daddy Toji dick you down, but likes and comments are always appreciated just the same!

#♋︎kizzatcookedthat #♋︎kizzatcooks #jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x you #toji x black reader #jjk x black reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro x black reader #meta toji #toji smut #dilf toji #daddy toji

[tropicalcryptid]

Ok so She-Ra pulled such a great hat trick with Hordak's characterization, and I LOVE it

One of my favorite things about 2018 She-Ra is Hordak's story and development (and Entrapdak cough but that's not the point of this particular post), and the cleverest thing is that so much of it is actually being set up and told to us in seasons 1 and 2 before we even realize that that's what's happening.

When we first see Hordak in the show, he's giving "generic evil overlord" vibes. Garden-variety baddie. Maybe a little more reasonable than some and clearly capable of long-term thinking, but that just serves to make him intimidating. Everything about him--the way he runs his empire, his armor, his color scheme, his minion, his Villainous Eye Makeup(TM), even his name--are all projecting to the audience "yup, Acme Bad Guy here. Move right along."

But then, backstory. And everything snaps into focus. Not only is it one of the first big oh SHIT moments of the show, where we suddenly zoom out and realize that there is SO much more going on than we realized--it's also the start of the audience seeing Hordak as a character rather than an archetype. Suddenly we realize that he's not conquering Etheria because he wants power, or hates happiness and sparkles, or whatever--he's doing it out of a desperate attempt to prove his worth to his brother/creator/god. This moment where Hordak lets Entrapta in is also the moment the show lets us in on what makes our favorite spacebat tick.

On top of that, we've also seen him bonding with Entrapta and opening up to this person that he respects and trusts...probably the only person he's ever respected or trusted apart from Prime. And she's Etherian--someone of a lower species, someone he's supposed to subjugate, someone who he has been raised and trained and programmed and mind-controlled into believing is below him in every way.

But instead she's brilliant and creative and mesmerizing. She's not afraid of him, and she's fascinated with his work. For the first time since being abandoned by Prime, Hordak finally has someone that he can talk to, who is on his level and both understands and cares about the science! (because he is a giant nerd). She's kind to him, a mere defect. And it just sends his whole worldview into a spin, and that's all before--

Bam, mans is a goner. Entrapta's "Imperfections are beautiful" comment punches right through all the toxic bs that Hordak has been steeped in his entire life. You can see on his face here--I think it's the moment Hordak fell in love with Entrapta, but this is also the face of a spacebat reevaluating his entire worldview. If Entrapta, who is amazing, believes something different from Prime...what does that mean? If Entrapta, who is brilliant, believes that he is worth something, and that she herself is a failure...

Well. We know what happens after that, and how Hordak begins to doubt, and eventually fights back against Prime (and remembers his love for Entrapta after TWO mind wipes help my heart ack). But we also get to see what life in the Galactic Horde looks like: the only life Hordak ever knew before coming to Etheria.

It's not nice.

It's really not nice.

Prime operates in a very specific way, and we learn a lot about it in season 5. Prime expects complete obedience, devotion and worship from his clones. He allows no individuality from his subjects, not even a name. Failure or deviations are punished, mind-wiped, or destroyed. We even learn from Wrong Hordak that facial expressions are considered a privilege reserved for Prime (apart from, presumably, expressions of rapture caused by being around Prime).

And once we learn all of this, suddenly thinking about season 1 Hordak becomes very interesting indeed. The time we spend with the Galactic Horde and Prime throws absolutely everything that we know about Hordak into a whole new context. Now all those traits that made him a generic villain are actually hugely effective characterization! And what that characterization is telling us is that Hordak had already moved much farther away from Prime than we (or, probably, he) had realized, even long before he met Entrapta.

Horde Prime does not allow his underlings to have names, personalities, or any differences of appearance. Not only does Hordak allow this among his own troops, he chose a name for himself as well! Season 5 tells us that his very name is an act of blasphemy against his god. And yet Hordak took one for himself, and that name is part of the core identity he is able to hold on to when rebelling against Prime.

Horde Prime cast Hordak out when he showed signs of physical imperfections. Hordak not only keeps Imp (who is by all appearances a failed clone or similar experiment) around, he treats Imp more gently than we see him treat anybody or anything before Entrapta. Imp is not simply "generic evil guy's minion," he is proof of Hordak's capacity for compassion, and evidence that Hordak cannot bring himself to cast aside "defects" as easily as Prime. Considering where Hordak came from, Imp's existence is a huge, flashing neon sign telling the audience this guy here is better than the hell that molded him, and we don't even realize it until 4 seasons after it's been shown to us!

Very cool, ND.

There's more, though. Hordak's red and black color scheme? His dark eye makeup and lipstick? Very Evil Overlord chic. But nope! Actually these are actually expressions of individuality on a level that Hordak knows would be abhorrent to Prime!

Reading between the lines, I see this as Hordak desperately trying to reconcile two diametrically opposed beliefs in his head: (1) devotion to Prime, whose approval he desperately craves, and (2) maintaining some degree of unique personhood, of Hordak, from which to draw strength. Because a failed, defective clone cannot survive on a hostile world, cut off from the hivemind and from Prime's light. A failed clone cannot create an empire to offer Prime as tribute, nor build a spacetime portal from scraps and memory to call Prime back. A failed clone cannot create cybernetic armor to keep his hurting, weakened body alive; to force himself to keep going no matter what, to fight through the pain and the doubt by sheer force of will.

But maybe Hordak can.

And so there it is. Hordak had plenty of time to gain and explore his individuality while separated from Prime, but I think the reason he did it so effectively (while still deluding himself that Prime would forgive him for these little sins, if only Hordak could prove his value) is because he had to.

Wrong Hordak gained his individuality surrounded by kind, quirky people who took care of him; Hordak was ripped from the hivemind by Prime himself and had to fight for his survival against all odds. And that produced a dangerous and damaging foe for Etheria. But it also produced the one clone with the strength of will to defy Prime himself.

This is long and rambling, but ultimately my point is that 1) I love Hordak, and 2) I love love love love that the show was so clever about his characterization. We learn so much about him and how much progress he's already made in breaking from his psycho abusive cult upbringing, and we don't even recognize it until the show wants us to. Hordak had come so far, all on his own, before he met Entrapta. She just helped push him over the edge and finally realize (at least consciously) that Prime's worldview might not be the correct one.

Idk, I just don't know if I've ever seen all the trappings of Basic 80's Villain(TM) so successfully subverted, where looking back 4 seasons later is actually a smack in the face with the "effective character building" stick. Amazing.

#spop #she ra #she ra and the princesses of power #hordak #entrapdak #entrapta #horde prime #Spacebat #Deep character analysis #Gotta love clever writing #Seriously I could go on about this show for ages #I just love the characterization for everyone but especially Hordak #Best spacebat #I mean I love Wrong Hordak too but you know

[codtrashsammy]

Cute Meet?

Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))

Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.

Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-” 

What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not.  And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he’s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.

Simon was enchanted at first glance.

Ghost decides he could be, too.

A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.

Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.

“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.

“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.

He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?

After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.

“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.

Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.

But they both decide you’re theirs.

#simon ghost x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

Studious VI (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+ FINALE

Five months after your reconciliation, you and Aemond have grown ever closer. When he returns from his first time away from you, you have a surprise ready for him.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: kissing, oral sex (M and F receiving), p in v sex, fluff

Author's Note: And with this, the series is complete! I want to thank you all so much for all the support y'all have given my silly little story. I truly cherish every reply, comment, or like it receives.

And fear not! This isn't the end of the journey for our lovely, stupid couple. On the 21st, I will be releasing another short fic as part of my 12 Days of Smuff event. If there will be anything more beyond that, it remains to be seen!

Read Part I Here - Read Part II Here - Read Part III Here - Read Part IV Here - Read Part V Here

My Masterlist

Taglist is in reblogs

Studious VI

It was the middle of the afternoon, and though the sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky, there was still a chill in the air. You had uncovered all the windows in the room, so it was quite cold within the stone walls. Therefore, you were curled up on a large, plush chair – Aemond’s reading chair – contentedly snuggled within your oversized robe.

And only the robe.

Vhagar’s mighty wingbeats had thundered above the keep not long ago. Thanks to the open windows, you’d heard it clearly – the chill was well worth it. A rush of excitement flowed through you, and you immediately traded your warm dress and stockings for the robe and took up your perch.

Aemond had been gone for four long, lonely, torturous days, and you were determined to be there the moment he walked through the door to his chambers.

It was the first time he’d left King’s Landing since your wedding five months ago and the first time the two of you had been apart for more than a few hours since your ‘reconciliation,’ as you had come to call it. Both of you argued passionately against it.

Neither of you could bear to be parted only two weeks after Grand Maester Orwyle confirmed that your nightly activities had resulted in the child now growing within you. Aemond wanted nothing more than to be by your side every moment until the babe was born. You weren’t opposed to it, though you did wonder about the practicality of such an arrangement.

But the Queen and the Hand insisted on Aemond going, rather than one of his siblings. The unfortunate result of his being the dutiful and trustworthy son, you supposed.

So, you had gone with him to the edge of the woods and watched as he mounted Vhagar and flew away. Of course, he had kissed you deeply before he left. Long enough for both Vhagar and the Dragonkeepers to begin subtly voicing their impatience. Had they not been there, you likely would have shared a more thorough goodbye.

Still, the four days felt like four years, four decades, four centuries. You would have gone mad if you hadn’t found something to do to fill the Aemond-shaped hole in your life. So you filled your time with planning how you would welcome him home.

You were sure he would be very pleasantly surprised.

Time passed quickly while you were held in suspense. The sound of soft, steady footsteps soon began echoing from the hall, and you just barely contained a squeal of delight. You readied yourself to leap, standing atop the chair to give you a better chance of actually landing on your target.

Then the door opened, and you pounced.

Thankfully, Aemond caught you easily. His strong, lithe arms wrapped around your hips and rear as if on instinct, and you were once more safe and secure.

You didn’t get to see his reaction to your leaping upon him, which you only regretted slightly as you pressed your lips hard against his

Aemond made a choked sound of surprise that soon faded into a low, passionate moan as he teased your lips open with his tongue to deepen the kiss. It still wasn’t your favourite sensation – a taste you had to acquire – but after days without it, it was almost enjoyable. Almost.

“I missed you so much, Aemond,” you whispered between kisses, strained and desperate as your fingers clawed at him, seeking to touch every inch of him. Every inch you had missed.

Aemond’s brow furrowed, but he did not stop kissing you. “I was only away four days, my love. Could you miss me so much in so short a time?”

You pulled back just enough to look into his eye as you touched the tip of your nose to his, widening your eyes and making a show of pouting. “Did you not miss me as well?”

He gave you the slightest glimpse of his startled fish face before kissing you again. “No… I longed for you every minute we were parted. It took all my strength to resist the temptation of forgoing my duty and returning to you. I missed you so much I ached.”

“Show me,” you commanded, smiling against his lips as you watched the realisation that you had never doubted his missing you dawn on his face with an affectionate, put-upon smile.

You squealed as he pulled you closer to his chest – you had not thought such a thing possible – and brought the hand that had circled your waist to cup your neck as he began kissing you again. Fiercely. Passionately. Lovingly.

The rooms were a blur as he began to blindly carry you into the bedroom, depositing you squarely in the middle of the bed. You were granted only a moment to catch your breath before he was on you again, his welcome weight pressing down on you as his heat continued to soak into your bones.

“If you were wearing anything else,” Aemond growled as his hands started furiously fumbling with the tie of your robe, “I would tear it to pieces.”

You bit down on his bottom lip, ever so slightly harder than you normally did to scold him. It did not work. It only prompted him to kiss you deeper.

“Were you ever to tear even a single thread of this robe,” you panted. “I would return to my father’s keep and never speak to you again.”

“Then I will be very careful, and…” Aemond trailed off when he opened your robe and realised you were bare beneath it.

His eye raked over you slowly, studying you as if you were a master artwork. His chest heaving, he slowly traced his hand from the base of your throat down to your navel, and when you shivered at the sensation, he shivered too.

He splayed his hand over your still-flat stomach, his eye sparkling as if he could see the babe within. “How is it possible that you become more beautiful every day?”

You laughed, reaching up to cradle his cheek in your hand. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Aemond. And I dare say that your eye is quite biased towards me.”

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head ever so slightly. “Your beauty is utterly indisputable. Any who behold you and do not see it must be truly blind.”

You could not suppress the smile that came over you, wide and unyielding. “I will remind you of those words when I have grown as large as a bear and have the temper of a taunted goose.”

Aemond chuckled lowly, moving his mouth along your jaw and onto your neck. “Then I will say them again, for nothing could alter how I feel about you, my love.”

Any smart reply you had was quickly forgotten as his mouth followed the path his hand had just taken. Your only complaint was that his mouth was far slower.  He would press a kiss or two against your skin, then momentarily lose his grip on whatever restraint he had. Then, he latched on, laving his tongue upon you as if he wished to devour you. Sometimes, he even lightly nipped you with his teeth, but he never failed to soothe the pain with more gentle kisses.

You could have happily let him continue for hours. But you had made plans, and you were going to follow through. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him close enough for you to whisper against his cheek. “Jiōrna mazumbilloti, ābrazȳrys.”

Your use of the Valyrian mother tongue surprised him, breaking him immediately from his lustful haze. He sat up and leaned over to kiss your cheek swiftly enough that you could only catch a glimpse of a mischievous smile.

“So close, but…” he apologetically kissed your nose. “You are ābrazȳrys. I am valzȳrys.” He pressed his finger on your skin just above your heart. “Ābrazȳrys – wife.” He moved the finger to his chest. “Valzȳrys – husband.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up and fuck me, valzȳrys.”

He obliged, his mouth continuing its path down your front after a brief return to your breasts. The closer he came to your center, the louder your moans and pleas became.

He pulled away slightly when he finally reached your dripping cunt, chuckling slightly. “Oh, how I’ve missed this beautiful thing,” he mused.

You spread your legs as much as you could in a show of impatience. “Well, then you should do something about that, shouldn’t you?”

“I suppose.”

A desperate gasp escaped you as you felt him gently blow a cold breath onto your heated core. Your back arched as he did it again, tracing a line of cool air up and down your folds.

“Aemond,” you breathlessly begged, “I’ve already waited so long. Please, don’t tease me like this!”

You watched as he looked back up at you with a wicked grin. “I’ve waited just as long, my dear. I want to savour this. Make up for lost time.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, though you could not deny his plan sounded quite pleasant. “Savour me, then.”

He did.

Aemond’s mouth was thorough. In the five months since he’d first pleasure you like this, he’d become as skilled and precise with his tongue as he was with his sword.

His tongue found your pearl almost instantly and began teasing it ever so slowly, as if it were a game for him. He alternated between pressing on it, drawing circles and various shapes upon it, and sucking on it like a candied lemon.

He did not stop until he’d pulled two releases from you. Only then did he finally acknowledge your entrance beyond merely pressing against it with his chin while he focused elsewhere.

Had he not been so eager to lap up every bit of wetness from you, you were sure the bed linens would have been ruined for how much slick spilt from you. But he was voracious in devouring you – moaning and gasping nearly as much as you were. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he came simply from being buried in your thighs. He’d done it before, after all.

Your hands found their way into his hair as his tongue delved inside of you, his wonderful, glorious nose still giving your pearl the attention it craved. Holding onto him was the only way you could withstand the intensity of what he was doing to you, to keep it from overwhelming you.

It also helped that when you tugged on his hair or slightly dug your nails into his scalp, he groaned in pleasure, sending delicious vibrations through you as his hips bucked into the bed. And when your release barreled through you, and you pulled on his hair like it was the reins of a dragon, he nearly screamed against your cunt.

Aemond gazed up at you, his face glistening and flushed. “My sweet ābrazȳrys,” he hummed before ducking his head back between your thighs again.

“Ah, ah ah!” You scolded, using the hands you had in his hair to drag him back to your face, causing another satisfied moan to escape him. “By my count, I’m at three, while you’ve yet to have even one. Unless…?”

A glance at the front of his trousers confirmed that he had not come simply from pleasuring you, and you sighed dramatically. “Still at none, then.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Aemond placed shortcut soft kisses all over your face before retracing his path downwards. “Let me give you more.”

You yanked him up again, kissing him fiercely. “No. My turn.”

He rose onto his knees as you pushed on his chest, his eye never once leaving yours. You smirked as you sat up with him, your legs still between his.

“I’ll rid us of these,” you said as you began unlacing his trousers – fortunately, he’d removed the belts for his sword and dagger before he’d even come to his rooms. You nodded to his doublet. “If you get rid of that.”

You had still yet to master the ridiculous clasps and buckles on the damnable thing. And Aemond resisted all your efforts to have a new, less complicated garment made for him.

At least he did not tease you about it this time and began to remove it swiftly.

Still, you accomplished your task before he did his, and he fumbled slightly as he threw the rest of his clothes on the floor as you grasped his red, weeping length in your hand and began returning his affections.

“Oh gods,” he groaned, forgetting his doublet entirely. “Oh, dōnus riñus… sȳros. Sȳros!”

His hands flew to your head. He didn’t pull at your hair or dig his fingers in. Aemond never did; he was always gentle. He simply cupped the back of your head with one hand while the other held your cheek, stroking you with his thumb in time with your ministrations.

He had been right when he said that learning to please a man was substantially easier than learning to please a woman. There were some things you had to remind yourself of the first few times you’d done this – don’t squeeze too hard, don’t take him too deep, and never use your teeth.

But you’d had plenty of practice and knew precisely what Aemond liked.

You knew how much he liked it when you used the tip of your tongue to trace his slit before swirling it around the head of his cock.

You knew the way he liked you to play with his stones – caressing them lightly with just your fingertips, and every so often giving them the gentlest of tugs.

You knew exactly how to pace yourself in a way that drove him wild without speeding him towards an early end.

He begged. Several times, he begged you to go faster, to let him finish. But after he’d told you what he meant by “practice” in his diary, you knew he could take it. Knew he enjoyed it.

“Please,” he said breathlessly. You looked up to find tears streaming down from the corners of his eyes.

For a moment, you slowed, worrying that you’d pushed him too far, until he pulled you back down onto him so far your nose nuzzled into the silvery hair at his base.

Your hands went to his hips, bracing yourself while he pulled you forward and back. Always gently, but with more speed than you’d allowed him thus far.

It was the first time he’d ever taken charge in this particular scenario. He was always dominant in all other intimate moments, but never with this. Whenever you held him in your mouth, you commanded the prince.

The thrill of it sparked a burning heat of desire in your core, and you moaned around him.

It was enough.

Aemond pulled you as close as he could until your brow rested against his stomach, and he reached his peak. His entire body shook as he spilled himself down your throat. And he did not release you until he heard you struggling to keep him so deep.

“Oh, my darling, did I hurt you?” he asked as he again laid himself atop you.

You laughed, kissing him deeply. “No, Aemond. Well, maybe a little bit, but it’s a good hurt.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“Don’t be, please. It was less of a hurt than you being gone.”

Aemond rolled onto his side to kiss you once more, languidly, now that the initial rush of lust had faded. You could almost feel his adoration as if it were a tangible thing. You held it tightly, and would never let it go. When he finally pulled away, his lips only left yours for a moment before he was again trailing his mouth along your neck to your chest.

“Well?” You asked. “Do you like your surprise?”

“It was wonderful, my love. Would it be indelicate of me to ask for more?”

You narrowed your eyes, tugging on his hair just enough to draw his attention away from your breasts and back to you. The moment he saw the confusion on his face, it was reflected in his own.

“This was not the surprise, Aemond.”

“Then what is?”

You smiled, looking dramatically over the bedchamber. Aemond only stared at you, waiting for you to speak, until you were forced to seize his chin and turn his head.

Then, he finally saw.

As his eye roved across the walls and shelves, he rose until he was kneeling in the center of the bed. You laid back against your pillow, watching him admire what you had spent the last four days doing.

The bare walls were no more. Now, they were filled with paintings, tapestries, and even a few little sculptures. By the bookshelves – which you had filled with as many trinkets as possible – you’d hung paintings depicting some of your favourite stories from fiction and history. A wrought-iron dragon flew across the space above the doorway. On another wall, a tapestry depicting your home keep surrounded by a field of dog roses hung proudly. And above the head of the bed, a new tapestry you had made in secret these past few months.

“Vhagar,” Aemond whispered when he saw it.

You let out a sigh of relief – you had not been sure whether he would recognise her. After all, the only time you saw the dragon was when Aemond took you to visit her. Making sketches on those few occasions would have swiftly given away your secret. Fortunately, Helaena was more than happy to help you in its creation.

Aemond moved closer to admire the tapestry, one leg falling off the bed. He started, looking down to find his foot had landed atop a plush blue rug. When he looked up to gape at you, his eye caught on the bursting of colour atop the armoire.

His plain stoneware and metal vases had been joined by others more intricate and brightly coloured. All of them were now filled with a vibrant bouquet. The one you’d painted yourself when you were young and thought yourself the next great painter was filled with bright pink dog roses, much to his delight.

“You decorated,” he said in awe as he faced you again. While he’d been surveying the room, you’d sat up, holding onto his arm and resting your head on his shoulder.

“No…” you teased, savouring that quick moment of his confusion before continuing, “I moved in.”

His face crumpled with an affection so strong you hardly knew how he contained it all.

Except you did know.

You did it, too.

“My dearest,” he sighed, “I – ”

“I love you, Aemond.”

The colour drained from his face, and you swore his breathing halted.

A roiling storm of emotions passed over his face. Unbridled joy, sweetest relief, depthless love, and a single moment of fear beneath it all. He’d told you only to say those words when you truly meant it with all your heart. His worry that you didn’t was clear.

You held his face in your hands and pulled him forward until his brow rested against yours. “I love you, Prince Aemond Targaryen. Not only with my whole heart, but with all that I am.”

A tear fell from his eye, and a soft whimper escaped his lips. “Oh my love,” he murmured like a prayer, “my love…”

Then he was upon you again. His mouth against yours, his comforting heat warming you. He wrapped his arms around you – one on your waist, one at your shoulder – and pulled you against him so tightly there was nowhere you were not touching.

“I love you, Aemond,” you repeated every time your lips parted from his. Each time, he nearly sobbed at the words.

You kissed for a long while, until you at last felt him hardening against you. For only a moment, he pulled away, his eyes still damp as he looked down at you.

“May I?”

Your only response was a smile and another kiss.

Aemond entered you in one long, gentle thrust.

That moment of stillness and adjustment was no longer strictly necessary, but you both still enjoyed it.

Just a moment to look at each other. To see the joy and now, the love within them. A moment to revel in the connection you shared and bask in the feeling of being whole with each other. Aemond kissed you again before he started thrusting into you. Both were gentle and slow, allowing you to cherish each other. You were not fucking to find release, but to simply be together.

There were times when Aemond was completely still as he ravished you with his mouth or hands rather than his cock. There were times when he rutted into you like a beast, only stopping so he could prolong the connection. And there were times when both of you were still, just embracing each other, breathing together, and knowing that you were loved.

Eventually, you could hold off your instincts no longer. You squirmed against Aemond to seek more pleasure – more of him. And he happily obliged. He braced one hand on your hip as he began to move. Faster and faster. With smooth, practised thrusts.

He was so familiar with your body that it did not take long for him to have you gasping as you approached your peak. He was already brushing against that wonderful spot inside you with every movement of his hips, and when he brought a finger to gently tease your pearl, you could not hold back.

Nor could Aemond. He buried himself in you entirely, his face falling into the crook of your shoulder as he moaned your name, along with several High Valyrian words you did not know.

You lifted his head to bring his lips to yours and kissed him until his breath steadied again.

“No,” you whined as he moved to sit up and pull his softened cock out of you. “Stay. Please.”

Aemond smiled as he understood your meaning, again pressing his hips against yours to keep himself inside you as he rolled you onto your sides. “If I could stay forever, I would.”

“I know.” You nuzzled into his neck. “In fact, I’d quite like it if you did.”

“Then so I shall.”

A long, peaceful silence passed between you. Your flushes faded, your breathing calmed, and the evening air began to blow through the windows and cool your hot skin.

The day was not yet over. There was still dinner to attend, and Aemond likely needed to meet with the Small Council to discuss his trip. Yet neither of you moved. You simply laid there, basking in the bliss of holding the person you love.

You loved him. You loved Aemond so much.

He’d said it so often to you in the past five months. You had a lot of catching up to do.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you,” he replied.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you…”

#studious #aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond imagine #aemond fluff #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #hotd #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #hotd imagine #hotd x reafer #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #ewan mitchell

[xxacademy]

tender

husband!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: succumbing to injuries inflicted by a B.O.W you fight the mental and physical battle to recovery. meanwhile, your husband does everything in his power to support you.

any leon timeline works, except re2. i did have older leon in mind though <3

a/n: inspired by lil a snippet from an anon request, find it here. anyhow, i love how this turned out, i was 🥺 writing it. pls lemme know what you think <33

content//warnings: depictions of blood & injury, hospital setting, non-graphic description of an IV, pain medication, y/n is used ONCE, pet names (dear, sweetheart, honey), hurt/comfort.

harsh white light wakes you revealing an image of horror. your trembling hands painted with your own dried blood, hooked up to an IV and a pulse oximeter. dazed, you know you’re in pain, but it’s not registering. it’s like you’re floating, possibly in a dream. a bad dream. but the reality of your condition is enough to confirm this is in fact not.

there’s a small group of medical staff standing at the end of your bed, talking quietly amongst each other. “the bloodwork came back, she’s not infected. all though the acid is wreaking havoc on her immune system, sending it into overdrive. the patient needs to be monitored for at least another two days.”

one of the nurses walks over to check on you, first, he looks at the monitors at your bedside, then goes to place a hand on your forehead. he notices you’re waking up, your heavy-lidded eyes focused on your hands.

he calls the doctor over, who pulls a chair up next to you. “hey, how are you feeling?” her voice is soft and calm.

“w-why am i here?” you mutter shakily, unable to make out much more.

“you sustained serious injuries on an extraction mission against a bio-organic weapon. you came in contact with its lethal acid, which is primarily why you’re here. your ankle is broken and you have puncture wounds in your arms.”

you’re still fixed on your bloodied hands, images of what you endured flood back. it was so intense- the last thing you remembered is a sharp talon-like claw piercing your upper arm. it all went fuzzy after that.

“you had surgery early this morning, and we have you on a morphine drip to help with the pain. please let us know if you begin to feel ill.”

you respond with an unsteady nod.

“you’re gonna be alright.” she smiles sympathetically.

another nurse comes into the room walking directly to the doctor. their speaking is hushed. “doctor, there’s a man here to see the patient. he says he’s her husband.”

“we can’t risk exposure from an outsider, we can’t have visitors yet.”

“he seems antsy.”

“well, assure him that she’s okay”-

the room is dead silent, so you can rather clearly make out what they’re saying.

“bring him in.” your voice quivering.

their heads turn, giving you a look of disappointment. similar to the one your mother gave you as a child. a sullen expression of remorse when she couldn’t afford to buy you new toys.

they do not want to hold your loved ones away from you. but it’s what has to be done. after all, it could mean life or death.

you sigh. you’re in no place to put up a fight.

“i’ll talk to him.” the nurse whispers. leaving the room.

“i’m sorry mrs. kennedy, you’re just not in a well enough state for visitors yet.”

you respond with yet another dreary sigh. fidgeting with the ring finger of your left hand.

your wedding ring is missing. you know you were wearing it prior. you’re always wearing it. sometimes you would loop it around a necklace chain, but you didn’t before this mission. surely it was on your finger.

“-doctor” you whisper.

“yes mrs. kennedy.”

“do you have my wedding ring?”

your tattered and blood-stained belongings were placed in a biohazard bag. a nurse picks up the bag feeling through the plastic for a ring.

“it’s not in here.” the nurse admits, a touch of anxiety in her voice.

“that’s okay.” you exhale.

it’s not okay. your beautiful diamond ring was more than just a pretty thing. it was one of the only sentimental pieces you coveted so highly. hand-picked by leon, it was a symbol of his undying affection. despite all the odds pinned against your love.

wanting to cry, but your bloodshot eyes are dry. the medication numbs you enough to let the pain run by, but you still feel broken, physically and mentally.

the hours pass as you bob in and out of sleep. your wavering limb’s finally settling. nurses and doctors are always present, constantly checking your vitals.

the next day two nurses come to bathe you at your bedside. gently wiping the sticky dried blood from your skin. the other trying to get it out of your hair.

“thank you, i mean it, thank you,” you whisper, fighting to keep your eyes open.

it was a relief. the sweet, metallic smell was driving you crazy. it felt itchy and uncomfortable against your skin.

…

leon hasn’t left the hospital. confined to a chair in the waiting room for the last day and a half. constantly flagging down staff for updates on your condition.

“she’s doing really well, the blood transfusion took perfectly.” the nurse smiles reassuringly.

“does that mean i can see her?”

“not yet, but soon.”

leon sighs. “well anyways, thanks for the good news.”

he sullenly returns to his chair. the stress and lack of sleep painting his under eyes dark. in his grasp is a picture you two took together, one he always carries in his wallet. it was taken a few years ago and you’re kissing his cheek. it’s the only solace he can find in the depressing waiting room.

leon had fallen asleep for the first time in over twenty-four hours. slumped over in his chair, chin resting in his palm. he jerked awake when his chin slipped. it was dark outside and the lobby eerily quiet.

3:47am

leon walks to the front desk heavy-footed and groggy. “my wife, y/n kennedy, is she okay?” his voice is grave.

“yes sir, she’s sleeping- and everything is looking good. but, you should get some sleep too sir, it’s gonna be a while until she wakes up.”

“-thanks.”

the pain of not being able to see you cuts like a knife. leon can't stand the image of you suffering and alone. but he’s borderline delirious from the sleep deprivation. he returns to his chair, lays his legs out across another, and falls asleep.

leon is jolted awake by a nurse tapping his shoulder. it’s morning- warm sun seeping through the windows and the smell of fresh coffee wafts through the lobby.

“do you need me to move?” he asks, still half asleep. voice deep and raspy.

“oh no mr. kennedy, your wife is on the right track to her recovery. you can go see her now.”

…

you feel much more alert, the daze the blanketing your apprehensive thoughts finally lifting. they switched you onto a far less invasive medication, which was probably helping.

it’s been a week since you’ve seen leon, and about two of those he’s been here, but just barely out of reach.

whenever the nurses praised you for the progress you made- you jump straight to asking if you're well enough for visitors. In your defense, it’s been unbelievably hard going through this journey alone.

the door creeks open, a very common occurrence of your stay. but instead peaking through the door is your blonde-haired husband.

you immediately start to cry- tears welling up and streaming down your cheeks. leon tears up too, casting a glossy filter over his blue eyes. he delicately wraps his arms around you, careful not to inflict any more pain. and you bury your face into his chest, immediately staining his shirt with your cry.

“i missed you, leon, i can't believe you’re here, i’ve missed you so much.” you sob.

“it’s really you, you don’t understand how much i’ve missed you, dear.”

you take your time, relishing in the comfort of your husband's arms. he gently rubs your back, consoling you with his touch.

“how're you feeling?”

“ugh okay, i guess. my whole body hurts and i can barely move. but the doctors say i’m improving- so yippee” your deadpan tone emphasizes how exhausted you are.

“that’s what i heard. and look, i know it’s been hard, but i’m so proud of how strong you’ve been, sweetheart.”

“i love you.”

“i love you, too” leon squeezes his embrace around you a little tighter, gently kissing the top of your head.

you smile, the first one in a while. but it quickly fades. “leon, can i tell you something.”

“of course you can.”

you fidget with your hands pressing your face deeper in his chest. “i lost my wedding ring- i think it was during the mission. i’m so sorry.”

“is that really what’s on your mind right now?” leon chuckles.

you look up at him with, tears streaming down your face. “you do understand how much that ring meant to me.”

“of course, i know, dear. but how can i care about the stupid ring if the wife i thought died is actually alive and in my arms?”

leon wipes the tears from your cheeks, his hand cupping your jaw. “i promise i’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“okay.” you say sniffling your runny nose.

with a big yawn, leon stands up raising both arms up into a stretch, his shirt lifts up slightly showing off his abdomen. “i’m going to find your doctor, see when you’re coming home.”

you smile. it’s nice not being alone. you feel bad knowing leon anxiously waited at the hospital for days. but there’s an unfamiliar warmth in knowing how much he cares. leon had always cared about you- before you were even dating. that’s one of the many reasons why you married him. aside from the ongoing list of shared interests- he’s so protective, it’s one of his beautiful ways of loving you.

leon comes back to the room, “looks like they need to run more blood tests, make sure that acid is out of your bloodstream before you come home.”

you’re totally spaced out, it feels like you haven’t even had a chance to take in what’s happened to you. it’s all become a blur, taking in the moments a second at a time. you were so worried about the details it almost failed to compute that you were nearly infected by the very thing you swore your life to rid of.

like a time release valve finally triggering; anxiety washes you cold- it could have been the end. leon would have been widowed, and all your friends would have been at your funeral. your mind is playing devil's advocate. what if i don’t get better? are the doctors just hoping i stay positive?

“are you okay?” leon’s bloodshot eyes are nearly aching with concern.

“i’m scared.” your chest is sinking deeper with each anxious breath.

“why? why would you be scared?”

it may not make sense to you now- but having leon there was a sort of reality check. alone, you just survived. with him, everything has weight.

“i dunno… i just want things to be okay. i want you to be okay, i want to get better.”

leon rushes to your bedside, holding your hands in his. “but it will get better- you’re doing better, so much better! i’ll be there every step of the way. i promise you.”

you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. trying to hang on to his words.

you sob, absolutely overcome by emotion. “i love you, leon. thank you for being here, thank you for everything you’ve done.”

a nurse knocks at the door but you don’t let go of leon’s hand.

“mrs. kennedy- so sorry to intrude. but the doctor wants to do a scan of your ankle. is that okay?”

you wipe the tears from your face, trying to compose yourself.

“yes, of course, that’s alright, thank you.”

leon whispers “you got this, dear,” before standing up and sitting in a chair by the window.

…

leon has done everything possible to make the next few days easier for you. like ordering takeout and watching your favorite movies with you. serving as a distraction while you recover.

it certainly worked. he’s good at keeping you calm, and the energy light-hearted. you didn’t even think it was possible, given the grim reality of your circumstances. but somehow he can have your eyes filled with tears, giggling with laughter.

four days you’ve been in the hospital, and today is your last one. you’re able to stand up and the effects from the B.O.W are finally gone. granted you still have a long journey to recovery, at least you can go home.

…

after the agonizing hours of travel, you make it home. leon helps you into the house, guiding you to your bed. “i want to take a bath, i feel disgusting.”

“i’ll draw one for you, you want it now?”

“hmhm” you nod.

“sure thing, sweetheart.” leon tenderly kisses your forehead.

he runs a hot bath, adding a little lavender soap, just the way you like it. he walks you to the tub and helps you undress. he holds your hand as you shakily step in, slowly adjusting to the hot water.

“god my first real bath in a week, can you believe it.” you sigh, sinking your body in the bubbly water.

leon chuckles, “i know, you poor thing, those nurses really tried their best to help. but it’s never the same, is it?”

“…especially considering i was covered in congealed zombie guts”

leon laughs, “but look at you now, covered in…” he pauses to read the name on the soap bottle “…lavender dreams”

you both giggle, in love and delighted by each other's company.

“okay, i’ll leave you to it, holler if you need anything.”

…

“leon! will you fetch my bathrobe!” you yell from the bathroom. you hear his feet patter across the hardwood, “coming."

you stare at your reflection in the mirror as you brush your wet hair, inspecting the scars, bruises, and stitches that litter your body. it feels like you came home to a different person, a body you’re now unfamiliar with.

leon peaks through the door. head cocked to the side. “everything alright, baby?”

“i don’t know- it’s hard to wrap my head around it. i-i feel off.”

“c’mere i got something to show ya.” leon swoops you off your feet carrying you in his arms.

“what are you doing?” you giggle wrapping your arms around his neck.

“you’ll see.”

he delicately sets you down on the couch in the living room and sits next to you. he fumbles around in his pocket pulling out a little black velvet box.

“leon-honey, oh my god, what is that.” your eyes are round and doe-like, your bottom lip beginning to quiver.

he opens the box, presenting it to you as if his hands were a clamshell, revealing a glimmering ring set in pearlescent white satin.

“for you- i know it was hard losing the ring, but that one was beaten up anyways. you deserve something a little nicer.”

tears swell, gathering in the inner corners of your eyes. chocked up and rendered speechless, you mouth the words, i love you.

he reached for your trembling left hand, sliding the diamond wedding ring onto your finger.

“i love you, most.” he beams, the words fluttering with tenderness.

“i-i love the ring, it’s beautiful-truly. but how’d you do it?”

“do what?”

“get a new ring, you were with me the entire time…?”

“i have my ways,” he smirks, planning on keeping that little secret to himself.

leon holds your hand, admiring the way your hand looks adorned by his diamond ring.

“remember when we got engaged?” he muses.

“of course i do! you took me to milan, i should have known you were going to propose.”

“you have the same look in your eyes as you did then.” leon swipes his thumb along your cheek, smiling to himself, gazing into your eyes.

“and you’re as smooth as ever” you look at him through your lashes, pupils wide. “but really leon, thank you, means more than the world”

“you are my world.” his soft lips meet yours, kissing you gently.

somewhere in the crystal pools of leon’s eyes, you find the hope you were looking for. his unbreakable faith in you, alongside his never-ending acts of love, is reassuring.

hell, it’s not going to be easy, but at least you're not alone.

⭐️tags

@yourgentlegirlfriend

#academy fics✨ #thank you for reading <3 #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy #leon fluff #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #husband!leon kennedy #wife!reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #resident evil fanfiction

[chuuyrr]

I CAN SEE YOU — NAKAHARA CHUUYA

=͟͟͞♡ CW(s): f! reader, enemies to lovers, angst/comfort, flirting, kissing, profanities, accidental confessions, and reader is an ability user and from the armed detective agency

=͟͟͞♡ SYNOPSIS: in which nakahara chuuya of the port mafia falls in love with the enemy

inspired by: i can see you and foolish one by taylor swift !

you can see everything.

you can see even the smallest or finest of details. may it be kept hidden in the dark or light. from simple lies that one utters, tinest changes in body languages and behavior that a person exhibits, you can see through people from their movement alone.

however, there was one in particular that you can see crystalline clear as the horizon, more than you should. nakahara chuuya.

he was rather simple, just like every other target you had, as you can see him waiting for you.

you were on an assignment, and it was once again simple. you only needed to stall for as long as dazai and the others required to infiltrate the enemy.

"i can see you down the hall waiting for me," you say as you approach him. you grin and tilt your head, "how sweet of you."

"yeah, i have been waiting for you, just like you said, baby," chuuya mockingly scoffs and grins before lunging for you.

exactly like you stated. he was easy, and your eyes can see anything. the port mafia executive looks surprised as you deftly avoid his jabs and hooks. chuuya keeps attacking, using his gravity manipulation abilities to make himself lighter and faster, even kicking you.

but, you can see him clearly.

you merely keep dodging, smoothly sliding left and right and jumping up and down. chuuya's honestly both impressed and perplexed. how were you avoiding all of his attacks as if you were expecting them? you were on par even with his gravity manipulation.

"how in the fuck?" chuuya raises his brow as he tries an uppercut in the hopes of knocking you off, but you simply evade it again, jumping aside and doing a quick flip to keep a safe distance.

"what's your ability, huh?" he scoffs as he looks at you. you couldn't just counter all of his assaults and blow like nothing without any special ability. that would be surreal.

"i can see you." you say, pointing at your eyes with a rather mischievous smile and giggle.

"you.. can see me..?" chuuya's eyes narrow as he struggles to comprehend your response.

"mhm, and i can also see you have a knife on you," you remark with a smile, waving the blade that chuuya carries on him as you twirl it with your fingers as if it were nothing.

chuuya was more astonished than ever before. only one man had been able to steal his knife. his ex-partner, the only person who should be aware of his movements, but here you are. in less than a minute, chuuya feesl as if you have known him your entire life.

"anyway, i need to borrow this and i gotta run. my job here is done, so bye!" you wink before sprinting into the other hall, surprising the port mafia executive.

"what the fuck?! get back here!" chuuya yells, chasing after you only to find you missing.

you had already vanished down the corridor, nowhere to be found with his knife, leaving no trace behind, and that was the beginning of everything.

the port mafia executive has been a shambles since the fateful contact be had with you, the member of the armed detective agency that claims to see him.

with your antics and sharp, quick-witted movements, you remind him so much of his ex-partner, as well as an old member of the port mafia who died years ago, given your ability to render surprise attacks useless, such as a sniper attack, an explosion, and numerous other moves.

you were definitely a piece of work, which is why you have gained the attention of the port mafia, in addition to chuuya himself.

mori particularly requests that you be paired with him anytime an alliance between the mafia and the detective agency is needed since then. It was an unusual pairing, but even dazai understands why.

those eyes of yours were truly amazing, allowing you to see everything so clearly and with such deadly accuracy that you are capable of reacting to a situation so quickly and utilizing weaponry to the fullest.

chuuya could bet a thousand dollars that if you had been at the port mafia, you would have been a dangerous assassin to contend with.

your aim, stealth, and ability to analyze, anticipate, and react were impressive, and your abilities surprisingly work hand-in-hand with his martial arts and gravity manipulation abilities as well.

but here's the thing, you were the enemy, and you were as annoying as dazai, or so chuuya tries to convince himself in order to avoid thinking about you.

"nakahara!" you exclaim to the redhead, darting to his side to avoid a hail of gunshots aimed at you and him with a knife that happened to be his weapon, which you have never returned to him since.

chuuya scoffs to himself before snapping back to reality. for a split second, his eyes widened as he watched you effortlessly and masterfully dodge and deflect bullets being sniped at you and him like nothing else, swinging the knife as your eyes perfectly located each bullet.

this was definitely chuuya's first time. how could he have allowed his attention wander from the situation at hand for even a second?

chuuya grabs you and uses his gravity manipulation ability to make the two of you lighter, allowing you to move faster past your pursuers, both those encircling you and him, as well as the snipers in the area.

your eyes widen in amazement as he abruptly tugs you to him, and your eyes fail you to act quickly enough to stop him.

chuuya's body pressed against yours, your face on his chest, his arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you tight against him as he used his ability to wipe out the area clean.

you couldn't help but feel your heart skip a beat as gravity knocked them all down with a flurry of its red energy enveloping you both, and that's when you realized it wasn't just chuuya who was becoming preoccupied.

"you okay?" chuuua says as you blink and look up at him, who is still looking down at you with his arm around your waist and your body pressed against his.

as you look into his gray eyes, your pupils dilate. you were seeing more than you should have been. the gentleness of his stare and voice at this precise moment, as well as his protective body language and grip, were sufficient to provide you with all the answers.

a smile tugs on your lips as you tilt your head towards him and wink, "ever so sweet of you, nakahara.."

before he clicks his tongue in irritation and releases you from his grip, a faint pink tint dusts his cheeks.

"w-watch your mouth, damn it," chuuya says as he brushes by your shoulder on his way to both of your destination.

"hey, now! i only called you sweet! no need to be such a sourpuss, nakahara!" you laugh, but you're also astonished and perplexed that you just made him react like that.

"shut up and get moving!" chuuya yells, refusing to look back at you as you began to trail after him, not wanting you to see his face right now.

"what if i don't want to? what are you going to do?" you question, your smile widening as you now catch up and pass him.

"i will make you shut up," chuuya scoffs, glaring even harder before turning away from you.

"but how? are you gonna kiss me?" you continue to giggle while maintaining your smile, a small blush developing over your cheeks as you jest to upset him, "you can't even land a hit on me, nakaha—"

chuuya abruptly cuts you off, clenching his teeth and raising his voice, "yeah, i will fucking kiss you myself to shut your pretty damn face up. that's fucking what!"

you mutter out in disbelief, "w-what?"

"you fucking heard me! i will fucking kiss you to shut you up!" chuuya repeats, leading you to zip your mouth shut because you didn't see this coming.

chuuya keeps his voice raised and intense, "you see me? well, i can see you too, sweetheart!"

you didn't even notice he was now clutching your collar and forcing you up against a tree, his face inches from yours in the midst of the earlier field of unconscious pursuers and wreckage.

"and you know what else? you are so fucking distracting too!" chuuya concludes, his nose almost touching yours at this point, "so distracting that i can't even get you the hell out of my damn mind, nor stop myself from staring at you every time because you always look at me with those damn eyes of yours!"

the atmosphere abruptly fell silent, and only your breaths, crickets, and a gentle breeze could be heard beneath the moonlight.

chuuya's stern expression softened into a look of surprise, followed by a slew of other wordless feelings as he realized your two-way proximity and the way your cheeks were burning crimson right now.

"w-what are you.. s-stop looking at me like that, damn it!" chuuya stammers out, his cheeks now mirroring yours in color. his eyes show vulnerability as well as the same softness that you can perceive so plainly.

"well, damn it too. i like you too," you say, a sheepish giggle exiting your lips and a smile on your face as you continue to look at him, lips slightly apart.

the moment you uttered those words, the tables turned.

you knew it was wrong, and you were certain chuuya knew it as well. you didn't need dazai to scold you two or three times over the danger of falling for the enemy, let alone the port mafia executive, who also happens to be an ex-partner from back in the day.

but you couldn't keep the truth from flowing out any longer, not after what you'd been feeling and seeing since you lay eyes on chuuya.

chuuya looks at you with surprise, blinking profusely as he releases your collar and steps back away from you, his face as crimson as yours, overwhelmed by the realization that you, too, are feeling the same way.

his expression, though, wavers. chuuya takes a deep yet sharp breath as he looks away from you, fingers fumbling, and you can see him so clearly, and this time you can see the trouble in those ocean eyes of his, the way his heart and mind were at odds.

"just why do you have to be with the enemy, [name]?" chuuya rubs his face, exhaling sharply, frustrated and distressed.

you hung your head and closed your eyes, not denying it. he was correct. it was just as dazai had predicted. even if such ties were necessary, neither of your organizations would be friends. at the end of the day, chuuya was your enemy, and you were his as well.

"you're not an exception, [name]. don't act like you don't see the way you look at that stupid slug. you're a member of the armed detective agency, and the hat rack is from the port mafia. why did it have to be him out of all the people?" you recall dazai's words, and the stern but concerned look he gave you.

your coworker was right.

you shrug your head and shoulders, and walk up to chuuya with a shaky sigh. chuuya can see your eyes were glassy with tears, but you scoff, glancing away and mustering a smile, "yeah, i can see that, nakahara."

chuuya swallows the knot in his throat as his gloved hand gently reaches out to grab your chin and force you to look at him, but you pull away before he can even touch you, and sorrow fills his heart with agony.

"let's keep it professional and finish up what we came here for, nakahara," the port mafia executive frowns at how serious and frigid your voice gets without the warmth and light joking style in your typical tone.

"oh, and, nakahara?" you ask, tilting your head up at him for a split second before walking away to finish your assignment with him.

you toss him his knife, which chuuya quickly catches in his gloved hand despite his heart and head being flooded with a slew of emotions as a result of this revelation and suddenness.

"i don't need it anymore."

you have no idea what to call your current situation.

and you find yourself staring at the office ceiling while the voices in your head reiterate the same words over and over as a painful and bitter reminder.

nakahara chuuya was from the port mafia;

you were from the armed detective agency.

you silently wonder if catching feelings caused you to make a mistake because you obviously did not see all of this coming to you when you should have because you can see everything after all, but in any case, it wasn't your eyes to fault, but rather your heart.

you stand up from your seat, shake your head, and grab your belongings. it was late in the evening, but your mind had been so preoccupied all day that remaining late didn't even help you finish your reports.

you pile the unfinished paperwork on your desk and lock the door with a duplicate key before eventually exiting the building as everyone had gone home already, and right now, you were thinking of opening a bottle or two from your fridge to wash away your unpleasant thoughts.

however, as you walk to your apartment and unlock the door with your key, a hand grabs your shoulder, startling you and prompting you to use your ability.

you swiftly but forcefully drag the hand on your shoulder forward and thrust your elbow behind you with exact accuracy, ready to defend yourself further.

"OW! FUCKIN—"

your eyes widen immediately. you recognize the voice and turn your head behind you, performing three consecutive kicks in the blink of an eye, only to see chuuya muttering curses under his breath while massaging the areas where you swiftly yet relentlessly attacked him.

"nakahara?" you raise a brow, "what the fuck?!"

"what the fuck?" chuuya repeats with a huff of annoyance and frustration.

"how did you even find out where i live?!" you question intesely.

chuuya scoffs, as he straightens his posture, "i obviously followed you home! and just so you know, you were the one that attacked me first!"

"it was self-defense, idiot!" you narrow your eyes and argue back, pointing an accusatory finger at him, "and you fucking grabbed me!"

"okay, okay! damn. i see your point. now shut up for second will ya?" as you witness how soft-spoken the usually heated tone of the port mafia executive is right now, your eyes immediately fill with astonishment.

"as if i will after everything. actually, what the fuck do you even want?" you shake your head and scoff at him as you cross your arms, "and don't you dare tell me it's another detective agency and port mafia team up, because i am done dealing with you and your fucking organization, and i don't get paid enough for—"

chuuya immediately catches you off surprise like the previous time you didn't react swiftly as you begin to rant with your voice raising word for word.

he shoves you inside your apartment, locking the door behind him before you can make a scene, causing you to stagger backwards.

and before you could respond further, chuuya yanks you by the collar and practically slams his lips against yours, making you shut up just like he said he would, despite the fact that it was a couple of months late.

you couldn't help but feel a peculiar mix of comfort and anticipation at the proximity between you two. the warmth of chuuya's lips against yours and the scent of his cologne engulfed you.

you slowly close your eyes, losing yourself in the warmth and comfort of the kiss even more as his hands trace your cheek and hold you by the hip instead of your collar.

chuuya draws you inexorably closer to him, pressing his forehead against yours, your lips still slightly separated from the intense and passionate kiss and you pull back just enough to lift your face and look at him, speechless.

"i love you," chuuya says feverishly, "and i don't give a fuck whether you're with the detective agency or not at this point. what does it matter? i want you, sweetheart, and i can see myself becoming addicted to no one else but you."

he holds your face in his gloved hands delicately yet eagerly, a glint of hope in his eyes, his pulse racing as he waits for your response.

your heart skips a beat at the confession, and you can't help but smile as you witness the depth and sincerity of chuuya's feelings.

"i can say the same, chuuya. i can see you being with me too, and being my secret mission, that is," you say in addition, a surge of eagerness and excitement filling your voice, calling him by his first name for the first time, bringing a grin to his face.

chuuya softly chuckles as he holds you by the waist and draws you in for another kiss and throws his coat on the floor, prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck.

"i can see you making me want you even more," you giggle softly in between the kiss.

"what can i say? i really do want you," chuuya says quietly, his warm breath tickling your lips as he leans in for another kiss, "and i can see you just as clearly as you can see me, pretty."

i can see you allows the user to accurately analyze, predict, and react to oncoming attacks, brushing them off or avoiding them even from a dead angle. it also enables the user to move with pinpoint accuracy because this skill raises the user's kinetic vision to its maximum.

=͟͟͞♡˖ ° niki says ! ༉‧₊˚.

for some reason, this was way better in my head "( – ⌓ – ) either way, i hope you enjoyed reading this nonetheless and thank you so much for reading until the very end !! also hoping for no typos because i finished rewriting this at like 1am.

#bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x y/n #bsd x you #bsd imagines #bsd scenarios #bsd fluff #bsd oneshot #bsd chuuya #chuuya fluff #bsd chuuya headcanons #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #chuuya scenarios #bungou stray dogs x you #chuuya x fem!reader

[astariontopofme]

𝐀 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐂𝐫𝐲 𝐎𝐧 🤍 (Astarion x F!MC)

Summary: Astarion is on a personal journey of self improvement to support his relationship. A little fluffy / hurt/comfort drabble.

Word Count: 1.8k

—————

By any sense of the word, Astarion was not known to be a nurturing man.

He wasn’t quite as in touch with other people's feelings in the way that Wyll or Halsin could be. If anything, he was rather cold in the sense of comforting another. Comfort was something he was deprived of in his two hundred years as a slave to Cazador, so what he’d never received he felt could not give out.

Which left him in a tricky predicament tonight.

Unlike most nights, she did not wish to indulge him in the details of her brutal adventure as soon as she returned. His strong little love had arrived shivering, distant and doused in dozens of conflicting scents of cold blood. All he could do was gawp at her for a moment, unsure of whether or not he should do something. It wasn’t uncommon for members of their party to return in such a state of gore and emitting a strong stench of death, but to return looking so mentally sore and empty was something he was yet to deal with.

Entirely unsure as to why, he wanted nothing more than to be the comfort she so clearly needed after such a day. He wanted to see her smile, it was the only thing that brightened up his night at camp. Smiling was obviously not in her repertoire of emotions that evening. 

As much as he wanted to give in to this new desire to nurture her, he didn’t dare get close until she had washed away the temptation staining her skin. No matter what, he had to resist the urge to aid in the cleaning of such an abundance of thickly spread blood. Visually, she was in a bad way, and he wouldn’t be able to help her while resisting the temptation to help himself to the scarlet feast she was drowning in.

All he could do was sit outside his tent, watching as Halsin helped to wash away the liquid badge of accomplished combat whilst healing her own open wounds. He studied the gentle touch of the well-built Druid, his large and rough hands so carefully patching her up as he tried to coax her out of her hypnotic-like state. Although the kind words from Halsin didn’t seem to be soothing her, Astarion made a note of the words of encouragement and sickly sweet pet names the healer used in an effort to make her feel safe.

Once she was patched up and in a much cleaner set of comfortable clothing, Halsin had offered her a shoulder to lean on and ear to listen to her troubles, but she quietly declined. Before she made her way to the lake, she thanked him for his help as she stood from her makeshift seat, not stopping when he suggested that she return to him if needed.

Astarion suddenly felt uneasy about her leaving such comfort to go and sit alone. Sure, she was his partner, but even he couldn’t deny that Halsin could give her emotional support and likely the warmest hug of her life to at least give her the slightest sense of security. 

It often made Astarion wonder what it was she actually saw in him. There was no doubt that the two of them were pretty nifty in battle, and she knew as well as he did that they had each other's backs. They were fearlessly protective of each other, each willing to do anything to shield the other from harm. 

But was that all their relationship could be defined as?

He wanted more for her, and admittedly for himself as well, but he was the only thing in the way of their progression. She was ready, willing and able to begin that chapter in their relationship, but he couldn’t let it be one sided. The cuddly and intimate side of things was still a learning curve for him as he progressively taught himself what he was and was not comfortable with and where his boundaries lie. He’d never had the luxury of boundaries before now, so her encouragement of him slowly discovering his own was greatly appreciated.

For that very reason, he had no qualms with her seeking comfort from other members of their party. If anything, it helped him learn the importance of patience and understanding and taught him how to express his own feelings. Although it wasn’t something he had yet expressed to the others, he was grateful for their unconditional support of her where he couldn’t yet give it.

Many nights he sat in his tent, building himself up to take that first step towards being the partner he wanted to be to her, only for his courage to come crumbling down as he thought more and more about whether or not he truly was ready for it. So as he watched her sitting by the lake, her arms wrapped around her own waist and shoulders slightly shaking from her torment, he felt something new.

Almost like a feeling of connection, he was suddenly completely drawn to her. He was standing from his uncomfortable perch on the bumpy terrain below him before he could even process any thought for what he was doing. She needed him, and this was both the first time he had recognised it and the first time he was acting on it. He moved toward her quickly, actually sensing her level of distress before he even knew what was truly eating away at her.

Unlike any other night at camp, he wanted to hear every detail of her troubles; tears and all. He wanted her to confide in him the way he had in her so many times before. He wanted her to lean on him for support because he wanted her to feel better.

Most importantly, he wanted to be her main source of comfort.

So as he approached his sniffling partner and silently sat himself behind her, he felt the first almighty crack in his hefty barrier. Fighting off the sudden quickening of his breath took mere milliseconds, a record by all accounts. That defensive stance of panic that repeatedly presented itself at even the slightest thought of being part of someone else’s emotional support system was overstaying its welcome, and he was ready to rid himself of it.

His hands gently pried her arms away from the tight hold they had on her waist, her grip so strong that it seemed she was trying to hold herself together before she fell apart in front of him. He locked his own arms in their place around her middle, pulling her back into his chest with a reassuring squeeze.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered suddenly, his mouth taking on a mind of its own.

Never before had he said such a sweet sentence with zero malice or ill intent. Every little doubt in his mind slithered away as her tense form shook pathetically in his hold. She was holding something in, a traumatic detail from her adventures that she may not want to relive.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The more he rubbed little circles into her waist with the tips of his fingers, the more she sank deeper into him. Her raised shoulders began to relax as each muscle softened within her, the unsettling tension slowly leaving her. He could feel himself doing something right, something that made him feel worthy of her love and time. Not even sex could make him feel as good as he did in this moment.

Astarion waited patiently for a response as she seemed to be clawing through her thoughts for an answer. His cold lips pressed a gentle kiss into her hair, the faint smell of blood still presenting itself upon her person. The smell did not deter him from his focus on her state as she began to break down into pitiful sobs, each heartbreaking tremor shaking them both as he completely enveloped her into him.

“Shhh,” he whispered softly. “Shh shh shh…it’s okay.”

She shook her head quickly, inhaling a shaken breath in an attempt to calm herself enough to speak. “I-I couldn’t…s-save-”

She needn’t speak any further, unable to anyway as she buried her face in her hands to muffle her sobs. She couldn’t save somebody, something that had been a reoccurring torment for her whenever she faced what she deemed as the highest form of failure. If Astarion was being wholeheartedly honest, he didn’t entirely understand her strong feelings for helpless people that had zero relation to her. 

She couldn’t save everyone.

He didn’t want to lose her in her personal mission to be everyone’s saviour, but he tactically held his tongue about his opinions. Conflicting opinions was, as Gale would put it, a normal part of a relationship, but Astarion knew he could be rather cut throat in his approach to such topics. He didn’t want her to think him heartless, because he really was trying to at least see things from her point of view first. And even if he couldn’t see why she was so attached to the helpless and needy, he wanted to convey that in a way that wouldn’t damage their relationship.

He still had a lot to learn, but truth be told, he was rather enjoying this personal journey to becoming his own person. A shocking turn of events to say the least. Something about this particular adventure made him feel like he was doing something right for a change. He was finally finding himself. Not the slave that Cazador created, but a man with his own morals and feelings.

His lips pressed many more little kisses wherever he could plant them, shushing her softly to alleviate the harsh sobs wracking her body. The back of her head eventually found its way into the crook of his neck, her soft hairs tickling at his puncture scars. He swayed them both slowly, resting his cheek upon her head to embrace her as much as he could.

She wasn’t in the right mind to tell him the story of her tragic day, so as much as he currently didn’t want to blindly promise her that she’d be presented with this side of him tomorrow, he wanted her to know that she no longer needed to seek out comfort from anyone but him. He wanted to hear about her upset, whether that was tomorrow or a week from now. All he knew was that tonight was not the night. 

Tonight, she just needed a shoulder to cry on.

_____

A/N: Hope you enjoyed my first little fic/drabble for BG3! FYI, I do accept requests! If you haven’t followed me from my HL blog, then please know that although I’m fully confident in my English, it is not my first language 🤍

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion x mc #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #astarion fanfic #astarion drabble #astarion headcanon #astarion headcanons #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldur’s gate astarion #astarion fanfiction #astarion fic #astarion imagine #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 headcanons #baldurs gate headcanon #bg3 fluff #baldurs gate fluff #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldur’s gate fanfiction #Baldurs gate fluff #Tav #baldurs gate tav

[soapoet]

How do they express jealousy?

requested by anon.

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: Gives you hell by All-American rejects

You might not expect this person to be as vulnerable and sensitive as they are. They appear very sure of themselves, may even have quite an intimidating presence, and don't let their emotions show externally. Until they are behind closed doors with their trusted allies, that is. When it is safe for them to break, they collapse. Jealousy is a feeling they are well acquainted with, and theirs is a battle between life and death. They hold trust and loyalty in high regard, and any slight against it done on purpose is met with an instantaneous crumbling of the tower where they keep and guard their beloved. They grow suspicious and anxious, and can delude themselves in finding enemies everywhere.

They grow resentful and begin a horrid cycle festering resentment and desperation to not lose their partner. They love you, they hate you, they deserve better, they deserve to suffer. And so it goes, round and round, and the wound is one only time can heal, but the scar will mark them forever. They can forgive, but never forget. Even if disaster is avoided and things go back to normal, the betrayal will forever haunt them and any future hiccup will make them suspicious or immediately be brought back to the past, and they will succumb to the fear of abandonment once more.

Without purposeful attempts to make them jealous, they are still akin a wolf guarding their territory. They keep a watchful eye for any potential threats and hold their partner extra close or go out of their way to showcase their commitment to their partner and their partner's commitment to them, often whilst staring threats dead in the eyes as an intimidation tactic and a way to silently yell "back off". I would sincerely advise everyone to never play games with their partners, but especially this one, as they've known the pain of neglect and betrayal closely throughout their life, and have unhealed wounds all across their aching heart and the damage you could do would never again heal and the commitment would bleed out to its inevitable end without mercy.

02.

Shufflemancy: Lost on you by LP

This person has a rather straightforward relationship with jealousy. Though they do not easily fall prey to it, if caught, they tend to spiral into a desperate act of self-improvement. Convinced that their tinge of jealousy is evidence of lack in them, they raise the standards they hold for themselves to even greater heights. Tunnel vision keeps them from seeing anything clearly and they hyper focus on their attempts to measure up to the perceived bar suddenly raised out of their reach. Because to them, jealousy so easily means they are not good enough, and as somebody already at war with perfection, they do not take it lightly.

Whether their jealousy is triggered on purpose or arise naturally, they instantly find themselves at a crossroads, and must choose which way to go. The strict duality of their mind in these situations keeps them from seeing the path which lies between the two, and they only debate between proving their worth or accepting defeat, wiping their tears as they take the road which strays from the one aligned with their partner.

They can appear quite cold when they simply choose to give up, as though the river of love suddenly runs dry and they decide that it, to them, is objectively the best to cut you or them loose when the two of you are hanging off a cliff and either one of you must let go. Even if they are upset they remain calm on the surface and do what they think is right. Behind them may lie many shipwrecks they abandoned when the leak appeared much too difficult to mend.

03.

Shufflemancy: Sinner by Trevi Moran

Oh boy. They will not openly admit to jealousy, but will meticulously eradicate any threat as though they're pest control. Few things get under their skin as they are at least outwardly very secure in their own self-worth and simply dish out stupid prizes to those who dare play stupid games. For some, however, I must say that they may actually hold themselves in this high regard and play the role of somebody big and strong as a ruse because they deeply fear the fall from their throne.

They could easily flip the script or rewrite it on the spot, altering the play in their favour. When slighted they quickly make sure the whole audience gets on their side and point and laugh at whoever triggered jealousy in them, now the villain of the tale they get to tell. Depending on how delicate the situation is they may instead move in the shadows and whisper in enough ears and shake enough hands to assure the eventual downfall and demise of whoever dared challenge them and their partnership.

I won't lie, for some of you I'd advise that you err on the side of caution because this can easily become toxic. They're very protective and may worship you and keep you safe from the wolves, but some can easily slip into maddening possessiveness, which is unhealthy. Their jealousy, although kept under lock and key, shows itself in a very cold, unaffected way which can be quite jarring to witness as their eyes feel hallow and suddenly speak to you as though you're a complete stranger. The worst of them may very well have angry outbursts when pushed too far and I hope you know you deserve better than that.

04.

Shufflemancy: Fred Astaire by Ghost the jukebox

This sure is somebody you may even feel outright compelled to attempt to make jealous, because they appear so unbothered and nonchalant as though they have no care in the world. And that is the truth of the matter, because from their perspective you are either commited to them, or you're not. They trust their partner to not play with them or allow any advances from others, and if that trust is broken then c'est la vie.

For some, this apparent lack of jealousy altogether can mean that they are open to non-monogamy, whether or not they themselves are interested in opening the relationship for their own sake. As an example, they could be open to their partner seeking fulfillment of needs they cannot tend to themselves. They are a good communicator and live by and follow whichever boundaries and rules have been set in their relationship and may be open to change should their partner have any suggestions. I wouldn't really fear unfaithfulness with this person solely due to how easy-going yet frank and honest they are.

If anything, instead of jealousy this person could quite literally suggest you chat somebody up, and their inquiries about other people some would be concerned about seem genuinely curious and are without malice or suspicion. They're trusting, though some of their loved ones may call them naive and wonder when the day will come that they get hurt as they don't quite understand this person's simple views. It's reminiscent of the time Aladdin said "do you trust me?" because to this person you or they either do or don't and that's that.

05.

Shufflemancy: Style by Taylor Swift

This person seems to have very little to worry about and seem sure in their own worth. So much so, in fact, that they may use jealousy as fuel for passion. They could feel excited and amused by jealousy as though it is a challenge for them demanding they rise to the occasion and prove just how worthy they are and claim their partner as theirs time and time again so that they may never stray.

They tread cautiously the fine line between playful and damaging, pushing the envelope in search of the sweet spot that triggers just enough anger to provide some friction. One need not worry much of their true intentions as there appears to be a permanent glint in their eyes full of lighthearted mischief as they simply desire for you as their partner to show them that desire earnestly, just the same as they do for you when you too decide to play little games to see the chemical reaction which follows.

It really does take outright betrayal for them to reach damaging levels of jealousy, at which point they don't go out quietly and make sure their feelings are known. Just to be sure the two of you are simply playing, they may inquire more candidly about the people around you or openly question their intentions, as though they are so very playful and appreciate the fun and games they are also a little territorial and need it known by all that the two of you are spoken for.

06.

Shufflemancy: Vampire by Olivia Rodrigo

Easily distraught, this person sinks fast and deep to the very bottom of the depths of agony when they feel jealous. They struggle with their worth and have an intense fear of abandonment which leads them down dark paths in their mind as they begin a search of how or why they do or do not deserve love and commitment. There in the depths of their undoing they easily come to find that rock bottom has a basement, which they crawl into to hide away in the assumption that what is theirs will be taken away and if what is theirs is going at their own accord they must then be flawed and wholly unworthy after all.

Their primary means of showing their jealousy is withdrawal, as they have trouble voicing these vulnerable feelings or may simply not know the right words to use to express themselves clearly. They may even fear that expressing jealousy will only make matters worse or invite retaliation of some kind, and thus say nothing at all, which invites resentment to fester.

Jealousy mortally wounds them, and I'd never encourage anybody to play games with people to begin with, but certainly not somebody so frail and fearful. This is somebody who would step in front of bullets for their loved ones, so any chance that those same people, and especially you, their partner, would in essence be the one to pull the trigger would truly destroy them.

#pac reading #energy reading #intuitive reading #tarot reading #love pac #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a picture #tarotblr #soapy.post

[shewrites444]

secrets [xavier thorpe x reader smut]

written by me & me only!!! enjoy ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

word count - 2.4k

[summary: the reader and xavier have been hooking up since the semester started, but when he suddenly goes ghost after awhile, the reader learns that his feelings for her venture far more than what lies on the surface.]

[warnings: rough sex, car sex, choking, spitting, daddy kink, dirty talk, dominant male]

-

xavier thorpe wasn't the most sought out guy at nevermore, surprisingly, but when his ex girlfriend, bianca, sent me a text that read, i'm going to tell everyone your secret, i quickly realized that he may be more well-known than what i thought. the fact they dated last year slipped my mind, but i was also a transfer student, so its not like i knew every piece of drama this school had.

we had been hooking up since the beginning of this semester, originally starting as just a one time thing after the rave'n that eventually lead into basically anytime we saw each other. i never found myself in the time or place for a relationship, and he said he felt the same way, so having sex really meant nothing other than a good time. sure, we'd hang out after, maybe go paint in his art studio or go to his dorm, but it really wasn't that big of a deal.

except for tonight.

xavier was being really weird and had been for about the past week, barely answering my texts and when he did, it was just one or two word answers. i was genuinely concerned about him, and that maybe that text from bianca was something he knew about, so he possibly wanted to keep his distance from me. either way, i would prefer him to just tell me to my face that this was over with, so despite how nervous i was, i planned on sneaking out to his art studio tonight because if he wasn't at his dorm, that's where he'd be.

glancing at my phone, i watched as the clock finally hit midnight and i got out of bed, grabbing my black sweatshirt and slipping it on over my top. i walked quietly out of my dorm and down the stairs, opening one of the windows and made my way to his studio through the foggy and damp forest.

glancing through the windows, i noticed all the lights were out, but i opened the doors anyway, shutting them slowly behind me and turning on the light. most of his paintings were visions he had through his dreams, so pretty creepy stuff, but nothing i couldn't handle. i looked around, accidently tripping on a long sheet covering a relatively large canvas. it dropped to the floor and i quickly leaned down to pick it up if he for some reason were to come inside.

looking up, i saw a painting that was definitely not a vision. my eyes widened and my cheeks reddened as i scanned the drying canvas up and down to see a rather explicit drawing of no one other than myself. it was genuinely indescribable to say the least, but also incredible artwork at the same time. before i could even process it, i heard the door open and i gasped, turning to see a very embarrassed xavier.

he walked over rather quickly and grabbed the sheet from me, hanging it back over the painting and grabbed my hand, clearly frustrated.

"what the hell, [y/n]! you were never supposed to see that, like, ever.. why are you in here? a text would have been nice, you know.."

"i-i just wanted to talk to you, i don't know!" i stammer, looking down at the floor and avoiding eye contact as much as i could. "not like you would have answered my text anyway." i mutter and i cross my arms, shaking my head in confusion. "i'm not judging you, but like.. why would you draw that if you don't even want me in your life anymore? you've like full-blown ghosted me this entire week. did i do something?"

xavier ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head and sighing heavily. "no, [y/n], you did nothing wrong, you never have.."

i raise my brow and glance up to him and his flushed expression, "then why are you acting like this? did someone find out what was going on between us?"

"i know about what bianca said, [y/n], but she isn't going to hurt either of us. she just wants to start drama." xavier explained, scratching the back of his head as he built up the courage to say what he was trying to say. "it's just too complicated to explain, i don't want to talk about it."

i frown in frustration and turn the other way, walking out of the art shed when xavier frantically follows behind me as i walk through the sprinkling rain and towards nevermore. there was no sense in standing around if the conversation, and our friendship, was not going to go anywhere. the entire situation would hurt less if i just went to my dorm and to sleep.

"woah, what are you doing? you're really just going to leave, and walk all the way back in the rain?" xavier shouts, walking behind me with a fast pace to keep up as i trudge through the muddy woods.

i nod, pulling my hood over my head. "yep! since you can't even give me any explanation, i don't want to waste my time."

i feel xavier grab the top of my arm and drag me a few feet down to a parked car, which was his, and open the back door, pushing me in and shutting it behind me. i sit there with widened eyes, watching him get in next to me and shut the door behind him. my brow raises and i lean against the door, one hand resting on it to open it, unless he finally told me what was going on.

"fine, [y/n]. if you want the truth, it's that i like you, and that is going to ruin everything going on between us. i've liked you for awhile now, and yeah, i push it to the back of my head the best i can when i'm with you, but the more i'm with you, the worse this all gets."

i take my hand away from the door and sympathetically look up to a vulnerable xavier, reaching over to take his hand and hold it gently. "you know you could have just told me instead of ignore me over text, and in class. this kind of thing happens all the time in a friends with benefits kind of situation. we work it out together, and you can't expect me to express my own feelings about it when you don't even ask me."

xavier pulls away from my hand and rubs his forehead with both hands, looking down in frustration with himself and the situation. "but you don't understand. yeah, i wanted to tell you this earlier, but it's all so confusing, and frankly, kind of dark.. i have a lot of romantic feelings for you, but the more i like you, the more i want to do things to you.. like.. things that are way more intense than what we do now.."

i grin, tucking my hair behind my ears and leaning closer, our faces inches apart, the heat between our breaths grazing against each other's lips. "tell me what you want to do to me."

he bites his bottom lip, shaking his head with a smirk and looking down. "i think i'd rather just do it to you, then tell you. but you need to tell me how you feel first. about everything. i want you to be sure."

"i like you too." i admit, smiling softly to him. "so fuck me, or whatever this fantasy of yours entails, and we can go from there."

he reaches over to cup my cheeks, slamming his soft lips against mine as we begin to kiss, my hands venturing down to his waist as i slide his sweatpants down, grazing against his hardening dick that strained in his underwear, then making the fabric the next thing i took off. i took his dick in one hand and began to jerk him off, earning a few months from his lips as we continued to make out. i feel xavier push his weight on me, making me sink into the seat below me as he breaks our kiss and motions his body to where my hand slides off him.

xavier grabs my sweatshirt and pulls it off, along with my top, pulling my bra down to attach his lips to one of my nipples, using one hand to hold my own, as the other reaches down to my own pants, sliding them down with my help as i wiggle out of them. i feel him slide my panties to the side as well, pumping one finger inside of me.

i moan, moving one hand to hold the back of his head, grabbing his hair and sliding my fingers through it. i close my eyes and spread my legs to allow him in further as he slides another finger in.

he pulls himself away from my nipple and looks up to me to peck my lips. "you like that, baby? do you want me to fuck you yet?"

"y-yes.." i nod, looking up to meet his eyes in the darkened light as he pulls his fingers out of me and sits up, taking his top off. i lean down to pull my underwear off before he stops me, taking my hand and pushing it back to my side. he moves himself to grab me by the hips, helping me sit up and turn me to face the center console of his car, leaning my body down and positioning himself behind me. i feel him press his dick against my folds, slowly sliding the tip in before starting a rhythm.

he leans down to kiss my cheek, licking the side before nibbling on my ear and motioning one hand to wrap around the back of my neck. his fingers grip my skin as his roughness begins to build up, his other hand now placed on my clit as he begins to rub in a circular motion, earning a heavy gasp on my end while he stimulates me.

"you feel so good, [y/n]... you gonna come for me, hm?" xavier asked softly as i nod. he then moves his hand from my throat to my ass, slapping it harshly as i yip in surprise. "you don't cum until i say so, or this is going to go on for way longer than what you can handle."

i giggle, turning my head to glance to him. "you're funny. you know i like a fuckton of stimulation."

xavier clicked his tongue at my remark, grabbing me by the waist and pulling my body towards him as he sits on the seat, slamming me down on him and i gasp, shock sending through my body as he length pushes itself into me. he continues to rub my clit, and wraps one arm around my waist, holding my tightly.

"go on and bounce on daddy's dick, if you wanna say shit like that." he scoffs, holding me tightly as i begin to ride him, my feet planted against the seat while i take each and every inch of him. i feel him grunt with every thrust, our moans mixing together as we pleasure each other.

"i didn't know you were so dominant, xav..." i mutter, both my hands on his knees as i move. "it's really hot, to be honest.."

xavier grinned, grabbing my hair with his hand after moving it off my waist. "oh really? if you think so, then why don't you let me take it a step further."

"whatever you want, daddy."

and with my permission, he helped to turn my around to face him, leaning me down on the seat once again, locking our lips as he repositions himself inside me. he begins to thrust again, this time a bit softer than what he was doing before. i feel him take my hands and hold them both above my head. he looks down to me and smirks, tilting his head.

"open your mouth."

i do so almost instantly and feel his spit hit the back of my throat and i swallow, our eyes locked through each and every stroke, and breath we take. he bites his top lip, picking up his pace to the point my head hits the car door a bit, but i barely even notice from the amount of stimulation coming from his thrusts. i close my eyes and hang my mouth open, moans filling the silence other than the slaps between our skin.

he moves his free hand to hold my throat once again, but from the front of my neck. just when i thought he couldn't go any harder, xavier lets go of my wrists and moves his hand to cover my mouth as he slams himself into my walls, making me yelp underneath his palm.

my entire body was shaking from the shock it was receiving from such immense pleasure, and pain. i move my arms to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer down to me as he continuously thrusts completely in and out of me, his balls slapping against my sweating skin, which was quickly filled with my own cum, dripping against his dick and balls while he continued.

just as xavier grew close, he pulled out of me, adjusting his body to line his dick up with my mouth and shoves it down my throat, gasping as i take him immediately, despite how caught off guard i was. he groaned, looking down as he fucked my face, both of his hands sliding down to hold my cheeks.

"this is so hot, fuck, [y/n].." he moans, looking down to me. "i've never wanted anyone more in my life than you. you're so hot.. you take my dick so good, baby..."

i shove my head up after his words, his dick balls deep down my throat as he gasps, cumming immediately upon my actions. he pulls out after a few seconds and sits back on the seat, leaning his body to the side.

i sit up, wiping my mouth with a red-stained face as i scoot towards him. i pick his lips, leaning down to rest my head on his shoulder. i feel his arm wrap around me and his free hand take my own, playing with my fingers while he catches his breath, and i do the same.

"i hope i didn't hurt you."

"maybe a little, but i liked it." i admit, laughing at my confession before glancing back up to him. "i didn't know your feelings for me went so deep as to fucking me to the point i can feel like, every nerve in my body."

xavier blushed, shrugging lightly and kissing me once again. "guess there is more to me than what you know."

"so no more secrets?" i grin, intertwining our fingers. "promise me you'll be honest about your feelings from now on, sexual or not."

"promise." xavier nodded, hugging me with his arm that was around me. "no more secrets."

#xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe #wednesday #netflix wednesday #wednesday series #smut #x yn #x reader

[frmisnow]

SLICE OF KOOK. ★ (1) KEY WORD : SUMMER

— ‧₊˚ —🐬: "c'mon, i'm just admiring you ?? "

summary. a chill beach day with your boyfriend

notes. first chapter of SOK was originally supposed to be them together at gym + them being horny sweaty sweehrts, you get the point 🤷🏻‍♀️ but this was tew cute to not be the first one, i miss summer :/

warnings/includes. non idol! jungkook x non specified! reader, they're so happy it stings, two lovey dovey cutie patooties, kissing

★ — series masterlist !

you watched over your both's hand's interwined, the small tattoos on jungkooks right hand clearly visable, little water drops from the beach water still grazing both of yours skin. you didn't know if it had been a few minutes or a few hours, you both were going in a circle: taking a swim, testing the limits of the pda pollicities (if they exist), lie in the sun as close as possible, giggling like high schoolers whenever you locked eyes.

jungkook hasn't looked this good in a while, no- he always looked good but he seemed even happier and alive now, a wide smile showcasing his gummy teeth grazing his face oh so often, his skin getting a bit darker from the sun reminding of his natural skin, his tattoos reflected in just the right light, emphasizing them nicely. he swiftly interrupted your thoughts, mumbling, "could stay like this forever"

"cornyyy," you acted like you were throwing invisible tomatoes onto him, "you said that like five times already," you smiled largely, looking over to him, his hair getting messed up once more by the wind.

he ignored you with a burning passion, the only thing that hinted at him hearing you was the giant grin on his face, eyes beginning to look over the sea, grip on your hand tightening almost unconsciously, caressing the outside of the palm with his thumb, "y'know i thought this trip might be the end of our rela-"

you interrupted him immediately as you both said in unison, "cause of the passport" though you smiled like it was all a joke you shook your head at the same time, "still can't believe you actually forgot it, you're like a little toddler when it comes to travelling, no plan, no nothin'"

he scoffed mockingly and rolled his eyes, a little familar pout on his face showcasing that he's not that serious about the whole thing yet his next words sounding like he's heading into a debate to plead for his inoccence: "i only forgot the passport, i had everything else ready!"

"right, as if that's not the most importa-" before you could even finish your sentence, he kissed you in order to shut you up (one of his favorite tactics), cupping your face instantly, grip very gentle, "you can't do that, unfai-" you mumbeled the second you both had to breathe when he repeated the action, his hands eagerly pushing you to lie down onto the wooden ground of the longer jetty.

"we're in public jackass," you let out a chuckle, trying your best to get him off your body, voice still sounding a bit breathless.

"we've done far worse- in public might i add" you hear him utter against your mouth, eyes half lidded as you can basically see his thoughts go into a rather explicit direction.

you tried your best at pushing him off your body again while murmuring something about, "that's a really bad excuse" in order of events he rolls over to the parallel side of yours as you both playfighted on the ground, trying to wrestle eachother off the jetty into the water.

jungkook tried his absolute best at keeping you down, he was into boxing afterall but you wormed your way out of it somehow, moving both of y'all closer to the water below.

"c'mon give up," he held you down once again, your head parctically hanging of the edge as you laughed if you were going down he was going down too.

so in one swift motion you gripped onto him, pulling the both of you of the jetty, the pitched automatic screams hearable from the both of you when y'all landed in the water still tightly holding onto eachother like life depended on it.

next challenge was who could hold their breath longer under water as he promised on bam that he could, in his words 'he was a living-breathing mermaid'

when he won (about 2 mins 27secs), you perclaimed that he counted your time wrong and when he protested, trying to make out with you in order to make you forget, you pushed his head under the water as the bubbles from his laughs under the water were visable.

which turned into him pushing you underwater and so back and so forth over & over again till the both of you were sick and tired of the water around you, going back to the beach to sunbathe.

turns out whenever you closed your eyes and opened them, he was watching over you which you'll lose your shit over, his gaze was so focused like he needed to remember every single detail about your face for a life-changing exam - you joked it was creepy, calling him the next 'edward cullen' which he'd shake his head too repeatedly, snickering something under his breath.

"c'mon, i'm just admiring you," he pouted lightly, a content smile grazing his face, "whatever you say, cullen" you responded back lightheartedly.

in the next hour it seemed like he couldn't quite rest himself, shifting your position in a way that would lead to your head laying in his lap comfortably and your face fully protected from the sun by the larger beach-umbrella, running his hands through your hair oh so gently which really did have some kind of sleeping effect.

his hands went on to lightly scratch your scalp and head, a big almost admiring smile on his face like he was truly satisfied that you were trusting enough of him and comfortable in the moment, you ruined whatever wholesome train thought he had going on by mumbling: "i could actually moan," at the feeling of the head massage.

he laughed loudly like you actually managed to catch him off guard, "oh is that so?" a finger going down to your lips and just lightly brushing as if he was trying to get you to bite it as you actually did, largely cringe-laughing at your own actions in the process.

you can see the corner of his mouth twitch up as if he was about to burst out laughing, seeing you actually bite that finger like a small puppy biting a chew toy, "oh my god, you're literally biting my finger"

"well you pushed it into my mouth in the first damn place," you replied still with a huge grin on your face.

"i didn't shove my finger down your mouth, you bit it" his smile was now full blown, "how is my finger not in pieces yet? surprised it's not bleeding yet, you full blown bit-" his tone was mocking, dramatizing.

"stop-" you whined jokingly at his words, pushing him onto the towel, to create distance, the comfortable position now broken away as you both giggled in harmony like maniacs.

"see? nothing you can't fix with a ice cream," he bopped your nose almost mockingly as he hended you out the ice cream he insisted on buying for you (it was evening- quite literally 8pm).

"how about i smear your finger into thi-"

"no need to get graphic, babe"

#bts ff #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x you #bts imagines #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #📂 - slice of kook! chapter one

[dmercer91]

since mr.john marino went to harvard

all i can think of is him being with another harvard graduate, who put her degree into some complications field

and he brings her around the rink to meet the guys and they’re like

“hot and smart😮”

developing this into mr john marino claiming that he’s bringing a friend around because she doesn’t want people to pry into her life and she is very very private and so cue every non taken devil frothing at the mouth

and suddenly your close friend johnny is grabbing your ass kissing you right where everyone is watching

and never in your entire life had you been at a loss for words but now you’re just like.. oh my

sounds complicated, jm6

john had never needed to worry about other guys- he knew that. you’d never indulge and you were usually too much of a homebody to be subjected to flirting regardless

so he didn’t really see a problem with you asking to be introduced to the team as his close friend. you didn’t like for people to know about personal things immediately upon meeting.

you didn’t like the opportunity it gave for meddling, and not to say you didn’t trust johnnys friends- but hockey boys were never really the greatest at minding themselves or avoiding conflict

you’d worn sweatpants and a tank top- putting little to no effort into your looks knowing that you and john were meant to be getting bunch after practice

your hair wasn’t straightened, you were wearing your glasses rather than your contacts, and in your personal opinion, you looked a mess

you usually looked pretty professional- being a law student and nearing the beginning of your career meaning you needed to look proper. your current look was not that.

you walked into the arena with a glum look, trailing behind john who was occasionally stopped to greet some staff.

you made it to the dressing room where most of the guys had just been taping new sticks, some missing and some sharpening their skates in a different room you could see from where you were standing.

“s’ this your friend you were talking about, johnny?” a boy with fluffy hair came over from behind, smiling down at you and showing off his missing tooth

“yeah. ba- y/n, this is dawson. he’s.. usually normal,” you gave your boyfriend a look at his close call, turning to dawson and waving, a small smile on your lips

he returned the favour and then furrowed his eyebrows at whatever was behind you, so both you and john turned

“by usually he means never. dawson is never normal,” three guys emerged from the dressing room, the shortest of them the one who’d spoken out

john nodded sideways as a confirmation of his statement, then looked down at you.

“this is jack, his little brother luke, and that’s nico,” he pointed at each player as he stated their names, and nico smiled softly, eyeing you once

jack took the liberty of openly eye fucking you- and luke was clearly trying to be subtle, or at least more subtle than his captain and his brother, but his cheeks were flushed and he only put his hand up shyly as a greeting

“johnny said you were in law?” nico asked, his accent taking you by surprise a little

“yeah, we actually met at harvard. took an elective together and he was unsalvageable in the subject, so he asked me for help,” you shrugged

it wasn’t technically a lie- you’d only let out the minor detail that he’d initially went up to you to ask you out and you told him you’d only agree if he got a b or higher on the next paper

and then the part where he asked for help writing the paper and got to see you strip another piece of clothing after each body paragraph he’d written

“is law really difficult?” dawson asked, sounding genuinely intrigued with his head tilted in curiosity and his eyes happy

he clearly hadn’t noticed that the rest of the group was not actually intending to talk about law- but you were glad for it.

before you could answer, jack beat you to it.

“it sounds complicated. maybe you could use a little distraction, sometime?” he smirked and you raised an eyebrow. he was a lot bolder than you’d been anticipating.

you looked at johnny who’s tongue was poking his cheek, his eyes laser focused on the ground. you assumed he was trying not to implode, and you were kinda stuck on what to do

“your friends are bold, johnny,” you stated, turning to look at dawson who’s eyes were a little wide

“you’re telling me,” john grumbled, nodding towards the stands “take a seat, if you want. gotta start getting dressed,” you nodded and wandered off, waving to the five of them and trying to make your exit as quickly is possible.

after the practice was over, you’d made your way back over to the dressing room and waited for johnny to walk out.

nico had made his way out first, eyeing you before making his way over.

“you’re dating, aren’t you?” you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to feign innocence

“what do you mean? johnny?” nico grinned, the speed at which you were talking calling you out on your lie

“sorry about jack, he’s.. well, he’s definitely jack,” you giggled, nodding in agreement and looking over at the door as john came out

his eyes went back and forth between you and his captain, and he eventually came towards you and stood as close as humanly possible

“hi, baby,” you murmured, keeping quiet so only nico would hear and leaning your head onto johns shoulder

he gave you and alarmed look and you shook your head. “your captain is very perceptive,” you stated, and john smiled a little.

“cant say the same for his alt,” he mumbled under his breath and you glared at him playfully. he couldn’t really hold it against jack when nobody had known you were his

jack came off strong, but he had no ill intentions.

and, speak of the devil- he’d come out and beelined right for the little trio you’d been standing in.

before he could get over- john looked down at you.

“y/n. do you love me?” you furrowed your eyebrows, nodding

“yeah? wha-“ you were cut off by his lips on yours, one hand grabbing your waist and the other gripping your ass, your body pressed close to his

you let him- his kisses getting deeper and deeper until he tried to poke his tongue into your mouth and you pulled away, his hands staying put

“mh. jesus, johnny,” you blushed, wiping your lips that were red and starting to get swollen

you didn’t really know what else to say- flustered and a little too affected by his possessiveness for your liking

“uh. sorry, man. and sorry, y/n, for-” jack gestured vaguely, chuckling breathily, eyes a little wide at the display he’d just witnessed

“it’s fine. you didn’t know,” you reassured.

“what she said. don’t let it happen again,” johnny warned, grip falling from your ass but sprawling across your lower back, keeping you close to him

#e’s 500 celly! #e’s blurbs! #john marino #john marino x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #new jersey devils

[emry-stars-art]

Children of the Moriyama-Day thrones ✨

I’ve been putting off an explanation for the kingdom Evermore for FOREVER and honestly a lot of it is directly pulled from this post and some more chats with @snazzy-jas-z-is-a-fan-of (thank you ily you’re so smart)

So if you wanna know like 80% of the pre-timeline Moriyama-Day story, read on:

SO. In Evermore, at least amongst nobility, all importance is placed on direct descendants of family lines. Spouses to the royal family can claim titles if they so choose - the equivalent titles are reserved for that eventuality - but their children will always have higher titles than them (ex: the husbands of the Day line queens are not princes but instead something closer to dukes, while their children will be Day princes and princesses, as well as the reverse for the Moriyama wives). This means that every once in a while, if a spouse would prefer to live privately rather than subject themselves to the more stressful aspects of noble life, they remain only vaguely known by the public. This doesn’t happen often by any means, but it does give the royal family an excuse for why the father of Kevin Day has not made himself known.

Each generation has a shared title - the most fit and capable to rule will take the titles of kings and queens*, while their children are princes and princesses. The eldest of each family in the generation adds “high ___” to their title once a younger sibling is born. This is why even though Kevin is the younger between him and Natalie - the next Day generation - he is the heir to the Day throne because his mother was the elder sister. The names in pink are the highest ranking royalty of their generation, whom the throne is passed to.

*(Maybe Evermore retires their monarchs once they’re unfit to rule, or maybe the younger generations take them by force, thus proving they are fit for the throne. I could see it going either way tbh)

The Moriyama line here is continuing essentially as is usual and expected. There’s family members among each generation and the procession of power is in place. The Day family, on the other hand, has almost entirely crumbled.

Queen Shields left the throne of her own volition, taking her daughter Natalie with her. She left the throne and renounced her Evermore citizenship for reasons unknown to the public, though the Moriyama family brushed it aside as the whims of a young woman that clearly couldn’t handle the lifestyle. For this reason, even if she was to come back to Evermore, she would no longer be able to claim her place among the Day family. Her daughter Natalie Shields, on the other hand, was hardly more than an infant when she was taken, and so the Evermore nobility could not say she renounced her throne or her citizenship by choice. If Princess Natalie ever returned to Evermore and demanded her throne, she would have it.

High Queen Kayleigh, as we all know, has passed away. Her son Prince Kevin was raised beside Ichirou and Riko by the Moriyama family as the sole remaining member of the royal Day line. Though he and Prince Riko had always been close because of their age (High Prince Ichirou was at that age range and just older enough that he found littler kids and especially siblings to be “annoying”, the way kids do), as they grew up, Kevin realized that even if Riko was his best friend and brother, he himself had started agreeing more with Ichirou’s political views and ideas. Riko swallowed the Evermore ideals of “conquer and prosper” as any younger brother might. Kevin and Ichirou never had to fight for the power handed to them - they were beginning to see that those traditions were becoming obsolete, and there were better ways to expand and run a country.

Riko did not like the attention Kevin was suddenly getting from Ichirou.

So when Kevin said, suddenly and surprisingly, that he was going to travel before marriage - see what and who around them might benefit Evermore - no one could really stop him. He was by that point the Day crown. High King Kengo allowed it. (He wouldn’t have, had Ichirou not so strongly championed for the idea.)

Young king Kevin is not technically an Evermore deserter or traitor. The Moriyamas cannot prove that he is. But the longer he stays in Palmetto, the more suspicions arise that he isn’t there only on business, or even that he might never intend to return at all. The only way to take the throne from Kevin - destroying the Day line in Evermore for good - is for him to renounce his throne, or for war to break out between the two countries so that Kevin will be forced to pick a side.

(We know what side he’d pick, of course. His adopted brothers as well. The rest of the Moriyamas are fairly certain they know, and are growing severely impatient for the chance to label him a traitor.)

(This also leads to the idea that perhaps, if she found her way back to Evemore on an errand, all the lost princess Natalie would have to do is exchange her claim to the throne for a certain foreign prisoner’s freedom. Ichirou is always looking for ways to get rid of competition, and Riko’s lost plaything is not his to worry about. Kengo’s declining health makes it easy for Ichirou to pass off his word as the High King’s.

So the ex-princess is free to take Jean Moreau wherever he’d like to go. Or, when he says he doesn’t know, wherever she thinks is suitable.)

#📣 DAME WALKER AND SIR DAY ARE COUSINS #does renee know??? probably considering her mom straight up told her shes evermore royalty #but does KEVIN know #now theres a question #good thing renee has as much interest in being Evermore royalty as her mom did #Ichirou is slowwwwwwly getting the throne all to himself #all according to keikaku #making a lot of very handy alliances along the way #and by alliances i mean extortion and favors and blackmail #ANYWAY #FINALLY HAVE THIS DONE #i hope this is informative #fan art #my art #aftg #all for the game #royal au #riko moriyama #ichirou moriyama #kevin day #renee walker #digital

[moonpool-system]

Plurality in Slay the Princess: Part 1

[pt: Plurality in Slay the Princess: Part 1]

Imagine you're standing facing the unknown, and then a little internal voice begins narrating everything you see.

[The Narrator] "You're on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path, is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin, is a princess. You're here to slay her; if you don't, it will be the end of the world."

He seems pretty biased.

One of the best indie games to come out in 2023 was Slay the Princess, an indie horror/romance visual novel featuring your player character and the being he's meant to slay, known simply as The Princess. However, you're not alone, in more ways than one- both your player character and the Princess display clear aspects of plurality - aka, multiple identities residing within/utilizing a singular physical body. This can take many forms in real life, from disordered to non-disordered variants, and a good few of them are prominently recognized in this visceral narrative experience.

After the read-more will be some spoilers from the various choices you can make throughout the early game- so while this is part 1, there will be no endgame spoilers yet! It'll start off with Chapter 1 and go deeper from there. If you're intending on playing the game, we HIGHLY recommend you play only after reading Chapter 1 information, or only after this part 1 at most! It's best experienced blind as possible, and trigger warnings are present upon opening the game. This analysis took a while to write, so please consider reblogging if you enjoy!

...

Right from the beginning, the plural undertones of the story are clearly apparent. Once the Narrator stops speaking, you as the one controlling the body are able to communicate by asking various questions directly to the Narrator to press upon, enthuse over, or counter his point. The Narrator is speaking to you mentally, but is not you.

If you continue on the path to the cabin, you're presented with someone else speaking to you internally, titled as "The Voice of the Hero". The Narrator quickly responds with "Ignore him. He doesn't know what he's talking about." This situation tells us a lot of interesting things! First off, the Hero defers to the pronoun "we" - as he's clearly responding to the Narrator's direction, the other individual in this situation must be the controller of the body. The Narrator reinforces this concept by talking directly to you, telling you to ignore the Hero. So right off the bat, there are three people in this body- the Host, whom is being controlled by the player, the Narrator, and the Voice of the Hero. They stay with you throughout (most of) the entire game, so even without much happening, the main character is very blatantly plural. The only thing we can tell about them so far is that they're a polyconscious system, wherein each member displays their own individual consciousnesses rather than sharing one, and can all perceive the world using separate streams of thought.

Let's say you head to the cabin, speak to the Princess, and don't even bother taking the pristine blade meant to slay her, as you're intent on saving her. You speak to her with options using "quotation marks" to indicate vocal speech rather than how you've been thinking to the other members of your system, and you free her from her bindings. Just as you're walking up the stairs, the Narrator decides to try and impose his decision instead, and save the world by using the arm of the body to raise the blade to her. Being in control of the body as a plural/system is called fronting, and oftentimes in intense circumstances, one member can "take" the front from another. This is what we see in the desperate Narrator, and the fact that the Hero expresses his frustration at the Narrator's actions at the same time indicates once again that the members of this system are polyconscious.

You resist the Narrator and warn the Princess, and she also notices and addresses the sudden shift in motivation. She then takes the blade, and uses it haplessly against you in self defense. Such is this end of Chapter 1; everything goes dark, and you die.

!!! CHAPTER 2+ SPOILERS BEGIN HERE !!!

[pt: !!! Chapter 2+ spoilers begin here !!!]

Chapter 2 is titled "The Damsel". When everything loads, you're back where you were before- the Narrator doesn't seem to remember you or what happened, but you and the Hero clearly do.

Not only that, but another character has joined the mix since your supposed death- The Voice of the Smitten loudly proclaims his love for the Princess and hatred for the Narrator. Plus, he says something unique- he mentioned "the four of us" foiling the Narrator's "assassination attempts". This four includes the Princess, the Smitten, the Hero, and the Host/player, establishing how everyone here perceives the others as separate entities. Plus, now that naming consistency with the others established, the Narrator, not labeled as a "voice", starts to stand out as something... Different, from the rest of you all.

But it's not just you that's changed; everything within the cabin looks different, and it's not only that.

The Princess has metamorphosized; the Damsel wears a new dress and crown, has a much more gentle and delicate disposition, and her voice sounds significantly higher pitched and kinder. Not only that, but her bone structure is physically thinner, as is addressed later in the route. She has inarguably become different in not only personality but appearance too. Additionally, while she recognizes you and your earlier confrontation, she uses the pronoun "I" to refer to both herself as the Damsel and herself as the Princess before. This is indicative of monoconscious systems, where members share an individual consciousness/train of thought and switching involves the feeling of one member "becoming" another in a smooth transition, and median systems, where members often feel like facets of an overarching identity rather than completely separate entities. We see more evidence to medianhood after the two of you escape, and the Damsel seems to be taken away by... Something. You find yourself presented with the Entity holding her gingerly.

"Something finds me in the Long Quiet and brings me the gift of a fragile vessel."

She cradles her and describes the vessels as "nerves and fibers to feel the worlds beyond. Perspectives to make my own", and the Damsel as "soft and delicate. You molded her to love you, and she'll make for a gentle heart." She words it as if they are the same, and yet different at the same time. You ask if she is the Princess, and she says this;

upon pressuring, she states that you're speaking in circles. "Does it matter where one thing begins and another ends?" This once again supports the fluid concept of median plurality. She is different, and yet she is the same. It's hard to tell the lines between one and the other, even though they both still distinctly exist. She asks you to "bring [her] more perspectives so [she] may be whole", wishing for the facets of herself to be returned to her via completing different routes of the game. Interestingly enough, it seems the Entity displays polyconsciousness during these segments, unlike the in-loop Princesses. In another route she mentions the Princess having a will pushing against her own, and at the end of your conversation she mentions one last thing;

You're flung back to the beginning, with only the Hero and the Narrator at your side, and not a single memory ingame of what happened. You can't re-access old routes, so you have to choose to do something different the next time, to bring different parts of herself home to her.

There are many different routes you can end up on, and the Princess will change in many different ways depending on your decisions. Let's go over some interesting notes on how the two's plurality presents over the course of the time loops.

- The Princess seems to be completely monoconscious when within the loops, sometimes acknowledging herself as different but never referring to her other facets as a separate perspective ("I/me", never "she" like the Entity refers to her vessels.) This rule is only broken by the Stranger route whom, where due to the world literally fracturing, had multiple perspectives shoved into a single one, and she refers to herselves as "we".

- The origin of new facets of the Princess seems to correlate directly with the reset of the world they're in, and we never see her looping forms change otherwise, meaning we can likely assume this to be their origin. While time loops aren't recorded to have happened in this universe, we can safely attribute some sort of metagenic origin to the Princess's median facets. The only other time we see her "change" other than after a reset is her disposition & voice upon the first time meeting her, depending on whether or not we take the pristine blade. This displays that the player character's actions directly affect the Princess's facets as well, however delving into that would get into endgame spoilers, so it'll be touched on in part 2.

- Due to the lack of evident amnesia, distress, or disorder expressed to be caused by her plurality (aside from the Stranger) it's safe to assume the Princess falls under the category of systems/plurals without a dissociative disorder such as DID, P-DID, OSDD1, and UDD.

- On the flipside, the Player's system shows quite a lot of distress and disorder, from the Broken and the Smitten attempting to kill the body to the Cold eager to harm it, as well as many different system members with specific jobs meant to help counteract or ease the negative circumstances of the previous loop. Additionally, during the Moment of Clarity chapter, the Host explicitly experiences amnesia of traumatic memories the other members remember everyone experiencing, displaying dissociative amnesia. It's likely this system falls under the category of plurals with a dissociative disorder such as DID, P-DID, OSDD1, and UDD.

- Many speculate the members of the Player character's system to be your past lives or iterations of you after your death, since for the most part, a new one appears every time the body dies. This would be known as a fenigenic/phoenigenic origin. However, there are a couple instances where this theory falls apart- for example, in the No Way Out route, the Player, Hero, Narrator, and Cheated are joined by both the Voice of the Contrarian and the Voice of the Broken at the same time; right after, the Hero states that this is your third time, meaning if the past life theory is true, there should be only two new members, not three. (The line between alive and dead gets fuzzy later in the route, but this one is cut and dry.) Instead, I propose the Player's system to be an adaptive system, ending up with new members whenever they must adapt their mindset drastically to the situation. The new members often tend to be a reflection of the body's actions during the last loop, which supports this concept as well.

- Routes such as No Way Out and The Adversary complicate these assessments. In No Way Out, every time you die you try something different, which results in a new system member every time. In The Adversary, you fight over and over again with the same determination, and The Stubborn remains as the only new member from the beginning the entire time. However, in both of these routes, the Princess stops changing form at all. Evidence once again shows itself that the Player Character's perception not only affects what the Princess will be, but what the results of his own changes will be as well.

- Another differentiation between you, the "voices", and the Narrator, aside from his lack of memory between loops and insistence that he's not the same person as other versions of him, is how they both treat and experience the Mirror. The Narrator is notably distinct in that he cannot see it during regular gameplay, and that once the world is replaced with it at the end of a route, he's no longer existent to perceive it. The ones labeled "voices" are able to see it and fear it instinctively- while they're different from the Narrator, even they disappear when you look in the mirror and speak to the Entity. Hypothetically, this could mean that you are to the Voices' perspectives as the Entity is to the Princess's. The Entity mentions that nothing but you and her come to the space where you speak.

- Upon meeting the Entity after the third time you bring her a vessel, she greets you with this line; "I am a growing chorus of contradiction. A mass of tides ebbing and flowing all at once in more directions than my attention can bear to hold. To look at any one is to shift them all into something new, and to look away is to reshape them yet again. All of me is changing, and yet the rest is still the same." This is an interesting perspective into her relationship with the vessels and how her overarching identity is affected by her medianhood.

- A case that deserves special mentioning is the route of the Spectre, after killing the Princess without hesitation in chapter 1 and then proceeding to kill yourself after. In Chapter 2, you're then presented with the option to let the Spectre possess you temporarily, giving her not only access to your body, but to your mind. For a brief while, she can hear and interact with all the others currently present with you- at the time, the Narrator, the Voice of the Hero, and the Voice of the Cold. Once she's within you, the Narrator can't even get out a full sentence before she comments, "So this is what it's like to be you, huh? Disembodied voice narrating your every move?" She addresses the Voices differently than the Narrator; "All these shards of broken glass on the floor... Are they also supposed to be you?" The Hero takes initial offense at this, saying that "I'm me, is what I am." The conversation continues to the Hero questioning the Narrator's existence, to which he responds, "You don't need to know what I am. You just need to know that I'm different than you. More important."

To this, the Princess answers, "So you're the one that pulled the strings and made me dead. I can tell you don't belong here. You're barely even there. Like the shape of something left behind. You're more of a... Memory, than a person." And then, "You're kind of like me, actually." What does she mean by that? Is he like a ghost? Something else? It'll be addressed in part 2, but clearly he's different from the rest.

- One of the most affirming dialogue options you can have with the Entity is after the fourth time you bring a Vessel to her, where you both speak about how your systems operate. You can ask her, "When you send me back, I'm not alone. There are voices that speak to me. Some of them are me, but one of them is something else. I call him The Narrator, and he wants me to kill you. Do you have a Narrator? Have the Vessels had one?" This is yet another hint that the Narrator is fundamentally different than the rest of the Player's system, making it clear that together they make up a mixed origin system. In response to your question, the Entity responds with this:

From this we get a few things. For one, the Princesses are referred to in the plural sense ("their minds"), enforcing the separation between them. However, she goes on to describe them existing and constantly metamorphosising into something new, basically confirming the concept of monoconsciousness within the Princesses themselves.

....

From all this, we've drawn a lot of conclusions about the plurality of the Player character and the Princess/Entity from Slay the Princess! Such depth of plural experiences is extremely rare in any media, and this one exemplifies it very well, balancing both personhood and parts-based conceptualizations in its depiction. In part 2 we'll go over how the endgame and its philosophy applies to these concepts, as well as the revelations about the characters involved. It's wonderful to have such vibrant and unique plural representation in a video game; thank you for reading this disambiguation!

#slay the princess #stp princess #stp analysis #pluralgang #plural community #plurality #plural system #system community #pluralpunk #plural headcanons #stp the princess #stp the long quiet #stp the hero #the narrator stp #the shifting mound #the long quiet #media analysis #character analysis #slay the princess analysis #adaptive system #monoconscious #mixed origin system #sysmeds dni #exclusionists dni #didosdd #did osdd #disordered system

[avocado-writing]

Oooh, for bg3 asks, I’d LOVE some Tav bonding with Halsin ♥️ Trauma dumping, or being out in nature together, or maybe realising they’re catching feelings? Whichever you feel like, thank you so much in advance, hope you are doing well ♥️

notes: I have wild, carnal desires for this man. should be gender neutral, only description is that your lips are “pretty” and you’re shorter than him!

pairing: halsin x reader

rating: M

“Halsin, I’m going to gather some firewood. Care to join me?”

Halsin looks up to where you stand at the edge of the camp, hand on your hip and head cocked to one side, easy grin on your pretty lips. He resists the urge to glance over to where the firewood pile is - many logs high already, far more than you likely need - because the two of you know that this is just an excuse to spend some time alone together.

Halsin makes a show of standing and stretching, smiling down at you. 

“Why not? It will be nice to go for a walk.”

“We’ve been walking all day,” shouts Astarion from the other side of the camp, glaring over the top of his book. He’s just irritated because, rather than being at the Elfsong, business has called you back to Wyrm’s Crossing and camping life. You roll your eyes and flip him a good-natured rude gesture. 

“Good thing you aren’t invited then, hmm?” you turn to the druid, and he loves the way your face lights up when you’re being silly with your friends. It stirs something in his old heart. 

“Lead on.”

You do, you’re beginning to know the woods pretty well around Baldur’s Gate. They aren’t as vast as the ones which Halsin is used to at home, but at least it’s a break from the suffocating stone walls and brick roads of the city. It’s good to be back in nature and he can feel his energy slowly return - it is a salve for his soul, and with you by his side? Well. It is heaven. 

Halsin takes a moment to watch you. You tread with a sure-footedness to rival his own through the detritus of the forest floor, pausing only so that you can carefully hop up onto a fallen tree and use it as a makeshift balancing beam. He observes fondly as you place one foot in front of the other, heel to toe, balancing upon the crumbling bark with your arms outstretched. 

“You don’t like to stay still, do you?”

You throw him a look over your shoulder and grin, making a show of tumbling forward into a perfect cartwheel and alighting gracefully on the gnarled roots. 

“I don’t. Sorry. It’s far too boring otherwise.”

“Never apologise. I find it…”

Enchanting, he longs to say. Captivating. So utterly and wonderfully you. But he doesn’t want to overwhelm you with his feelings so he settles on, “endearing.”

“Oh, ‘endearing’?” you tease with a little laugh, “I’m glad that I endear myself to you, archdruid.”

You look down, seeing how high up you’ve ended, and Halsin steps in to help you back to terra firma. Clearly he’s played right into your plan because you wrap your arms around his neck and press your body to his, sliding down to the ground but not breaking the embrace.

“I’ve been thinking about you, you know,” you say, softly, eyes twinkling. 

“Oh?” he raises a brow; feels something stir. 

“Haven’t been able to think of much else. The claw marks have only just started to heal.”

You chuckle as he feels himself blush, a rich and full-bodied thing. It is his favourite sound, he thinks. He doesn’t know how he ever lived without it. 

“I was worried I was too rough…”

“My dear, you misunderstand. It was not a complaint.”

He can feel your smile as you press your lips to his, and oh he is gone. The things you do to him… surely it must be some sort of enchantment, for he’s never felt so totally enamoured before. 

He holds you in the safety of his grasp. His muscled arms engulf you utterly, rooting you into the moment. Oak Father preserve him, he has not stopped thinking about the night that the two of you laid together. The hot tightness of you as he slid inside; how his name fell from your lips like a mantra, a prayer; the way he’d woken next to you the following morning and you’d ridden him again - shining in the glory of the dawning sun with your head thrown back in rapture. You’ve known him both as man and beast, taken everything he was - everything that he was scared you’d run from - and embraced it entirely. 

What he’d have given for a repeat, but duty called you elsewhere. He’d been dreaming about it since, quietly taking himself in hand when the rest of the party was asleep, fucking his own palm to completion with your name growled under his breath. 

Spellbound. That’s what he is. Spellbound by you. 

“Halsin…” you whisper, in that dreamy, honey-dripping way you do, and you do not fight when he finds a soft patch of grass to lay you in. 

He wastes not a second, now he has you alone. 

A handful of hours have passed by the time the two of you return to camp. Though you both have leaves in your hair, you do not have any firewood. 

Wisely, nobody comments. 

Taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate

#halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin fic #my writing #request #Bg3 fic

[blurredcolour]

The Only Truth... | Part Two

The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist

John "Bucky" Egan x POW Flight Nurse!Female Reader

Once rested, Bucky proves to be a rather difficult patient, but it's nothing you can't handle. Once he's discharged, however, the man still finds a way to remain close, even when he's no longer the one in need of medical care.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Nightmares, Detailed Description of Death by Gunshot Wound, Blood, Gore, Reader Scars, Hospital Setting, POW Camp Setting, SS Officers, Mental Health Struggles, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Rating - 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 5001

-------------------------

April 12, 1945

The light of dawn began to filter in through the murky windows of the hospital and with Bucky once again sleeping deeply, but now with all apprehension about his ability to wake again lifted, you began to carefully shuffle about the space and take care of some duties you had neglected for the last twenty hours. Emptying a few bed pans for those too weak to move, you scrubbed them clean in the meagre washroom before beginning to work on bandage changes, blinking futilely at the bleariness in your eyes. You had made it through two patients when the doors to the hospital were unlocked and Major Chalmers filtered in with Captain Menzies, another British medical officer, clearly just released from their combine.

It had taken several weeks for you to realize that the man introduced to you as ‘Mingies’ was the same as the man whose name was written as Menzies on the charts and not some other doctor who worked mysterious hours. Both men waited for you to finish treating the rather ghastly thigh wound inflicted by one of the ubiquitous German Shepherds – miraculously still not showing signs of infection – before you washed your hands and delivered your report on Major Egan.

“Very good, Nurse. Why don’t you go rest for the morning, we’ll see you around 1300 hours.” Chalmers replied.

Exhaling with a grateful nod, you excused yourself down the hall to your ‘accommodations.’ The former exam room had been stripped of all medical equipment to leave a cot, a small wooden cubby for your meagre collection of belongings, a tiny table for you to eat your solitary meals and write your correspondence, and a rickety washstand with a chipped enamel basin and mirror split with a spider’s web of fractures hammered directly into wall above it. With no interest in anything but sleep, you sat on the cot with a heavy sigh. You pulled the six remaining pins from your hair, having misplaced four throughout the last several months and still not having your confiscated effects returned to you, and kicked off your boots before laying down to sleep for a few hours.

------------

 The next time Bucky awoke, you were nowhere to be seen. He was plunged back into a world of dull, gritty, pungent masculinity and he was admittedly bereft. The pain in his back seemed all the more acute in your absence, and though there was again a serving of broth, it was tepid at best. Perhaps he could have withstood the continuation of a grim life all painted in the same grey palette, but to have that disrupted by your presence and then have that light and color taken away? It was even worse than not having had it to begin with.

It made him all the more sullen and combative when the British doctor Chalmers informed him that he would have to remain in hospital as a patient another night rather than being permitted to find the rest of the 100th and bunk with them.

“I’m perfectly fine Doc, all rested up, can walk, talk, and piss all on my own. I don’t need to be here a minute longer – the rest of these fellas are way sicker than me.”

The surgeon narrowed his eyes in response, clearly not appreciating his directions being questioned, but Bucky had had more than his fill of taking other people’s orders. He just wanted to get the hell out of here and back to people he knew.

“One night, Major Egan, that’s all I’m asking. The only bunks for new arrivals are in tents, if you’re lucky.  In here you’re warm, dry, and have a bed that’ll feel nicer on those ribs – which are going to take four to six weeks to heal, might I add.”

Bucky was about to open his mouth to reiterate his protests when his eyes caught sight of you appearing from down the hallway, coming to standing behind Chalmers with your arms crossed and a stern look on your face. It was so utterly reminiscent of one he had received from his mother on countless occasions that he was momentarily unable to speak before clearing his throat to concede to the doctor’s request.

“Good.” Was his diplomatic reply before he turned to see you there. “Ah, Nurse, welcome back. In some irony of the universe, we’ve actually received a Red Cross shipment of supplies. Would you kindly catalogue the contents the goons have left for us and add it to our stock?”

Bucky did not miss the exasperation in your expression – it certainly did seem like a cruel joke for supplies to arrive with the end of the war surely weeks away.

“Certainly, sir.” You replied before looking to the large and very much opened and rifled-through box up against the wall essentially opposite to his cot.

Settling onto his stomach, he draped his arms across his pillow, nestling his chin atop his forearms to watch you work. “Don’t get a lot of supplies around here, do ya, angelfish?”

As you glanced toward him, he noticed you had changed your clothes, into equally threadbare ones but fresh ones all the same, and had tidied your hair. He would have taken you to a dance in Times Square looking like that. In a heartbeat.

“No, we most certainly do not, Major.” You shook your head and made a soft noise of triumph as you managed to fish out the packing list – something to compare the remaining contents to, he supposed. “Might mean we got more rations too though, corned beef and liver pate to eat desperately before they go bad.” You gave him a wry smile which he returned.

So the Germans here liked to punch holes in the cans, too. Good to know. Bucky watched as you retrieved a pencil from the central desk and began to unearth boxes of gauze and ointments and all manner of things he was only vaguely familiar with. He drowsily studied your profile, lips tugging fondly at the way you stuck your tongue out slightly in concentration, trapping it between your teeth and grunting in dismay when something you obviously were hoping for was not there. Hovering on the border between sleeping and waking, he jumped slightly as you gently nudged his shoulder, holding out two pills and his mug filled with fresh water.

“Aspirin.” You whispered and he raised an eyebrow before plucking them from your soft palm, tossing the pills into his mouth and chasing them down with a slug of cold water.

“You’re a goddess, angelfish.” He murmured, laying down his heavy head as you moved to tuck him in again.

Your soft laugh in response made him smile drowsily. “No Bucky, just a nurse. Now stop fighting it and go to sleep.”

He was yanked back into consciousness by the sound of your voice some time later, tone flat and impatient.

“Just let me finish changing his bandage, please.”

“Nein, it is lights out and you are going back to your room now schwester.” The rude, clipped reply of the SS guard had Bucky forcing himself up off his cot, gritting his teeth against the screams of protest in his frighteningly unstable ribcage.

His eyes flashed around the room before they landed on the uniformed man grabbing your elbow to usher you from the bedside of a patient and down the hall. Bucky stumbled to his feet, peering around the corner after you to watch the man shove you into the room on the left before pulling the door shut and snapping a padlock into place. Bucky narrowed his eyes, moving over to the patient you had been forced to abandon, supplies still on top of his blanket.

“I’m no nurse but I can give it a shot?” He muttered to the fellow who gave him a small shrug in return. “I’ll be back when the coast is clear, then.”

Bucky slid back into his own cot, watching the guard stomp his way out of the building before slamming the last set of doors shut, the lock snicking into place behind him before the lights all went out. Blinking against the darkness to force his eyes to adjust more quickly, he made his way down the hall, feeling his way along the rough-hewn wood of the wall and over to your door before knocking softly.

“Angelfish? You alright in there?”

“Bucky?” Came your muffled answer shortly after the sound of your footsteps approached.

“Damn they lock you up like in here like some kind of fairytale princess.”

There was a soft snort and Bucky could not help the smirk that pulled from him. “Anything I should know before I try and finish that guy’s arm?”

There was a pause before you cleared your throat and responded with, “no it’s pretty straight forward but…but if it smells anything like cheese would you mind letting me know?”

“Cheese…” He replied slowly.

“The smell of infection, Bucky.” You sounded amused and he wished more than anything he could take in your facial expression then.

“Got it. I was born in Wisconsin, raised for this.”

“And then you’re going to immediately put yourself in your cot and rest, Bucky.” You said firmly.

“You got it angelfish. You, too.”

“Night, Bucky.”

Gathering his courage and putting on a mask of cool, level-headedness, he returned to his fellow patient’s bedside, removing the old bandage and bowing his head to take a deep whiff. Thankfully, for everyone’s sake, there was definitely nothing cheese-like about it. He then bumbled about in the dark of the room, applying perhaps the ugliest bandage known to man, but a bandage nonetheless, and returned to his cot as instructed.

It was not easy to drag the blanket up over his body from behind, especially with the newly aggravated soreness from his careless activities, but Bucky managed to settle down and fall into an uneasy sleep, exhaustion still dwelling deep in his bones and sucking him under. It did not take long, however, for his dreams to be haunted once more by images of deadly accurate shots burrowing their way between Buck’s shoulder blades on the other side of that wall. Of his friend’s blond head falling into the mud just shy of the treeline, just shy of freedom. Waking with a start, he glared around the dark, unfamiliar room and looked to the floor, frowning as you were not there for him to hold onto this time.

He had not fully woken the night before, but he had sensed enough of your calming presence to return to a deeper plane of sleep. To chase away the darker voices that threatened to fill his mind. Leveraging himself to a seated position, he grabbed his blanket and shuffled his way down the hall once again in search of your soothing influence, even if there was the interfering barrier of a door. Bucky’s descent to the ground was less than graceful, his ribs protesting fiercely and as he settled on the floorboards, he was filled with a sudden doubt in his ability to rise from this position. But then he heard your voice.

------------

When Bucky had not immediately bustled back down the hall with tales of an arm wound stinking of ripe cheese, you had relaxed somewhat into your nightly routine, stripping to your long underwear for a proper night’s sleep…that did not really present itself. It was honestly not that surprising given the way you had pushed the boundaries of night and day, your body really was not sure what to make of it. You were just on the cusp of finally falling asleep when there was a commotion outside your room, the door rattling in its frame, the padlock jostling slightly.

Hearing a slightly familiar grunt, you sat up. “Bucky?” You called you softly.

“M’fine, angelfish, just sleeping out here.”

Your eyes widened and you practically leapt from the bed, crossing the room in record time. “Are you really ok? Sleeping…. on the floor?!”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just needed company.” He muttered from below and you slid down to lay on the floor, peering through the gap at the bottom of the door with one eye.

It was surely flush with the floor when the building was initially built, but as the hospital settled into the ground, about an inch-and-a-half had opened up below the door, allowing you to glimpse his face not far from yours.

“You had plenty of company in your comfortable cot, Bucky.” You whispered and the eye you could see flashed open, face turning to meet yours through the gap.

“Not yours, angelfish.”

“I don’t suppose I’m going to be able to convince you to go back to bed? No idea how the hell you’re going to get off this floor anyway…” You sighed, cheek pressed tightly against the floorboards to see as much of him as possible.

“I’m down for the count, I’d say.” He huffed with a poor show of playfulness.

Frowning, you looked over the visible portion of his face slowly. “You have another bad dream?”

He grunted noncommittally and averted his gaze, essentially confirming your suspicion. Sliding from your spot on the floor, you fetched your blanket and pillow before laying them down to rejoin him. “I get ‘em too. Stuck on that crashing plane and I can’t get off. Or the chute won’t open. Or I can’t…” your throat clenched, and you swallowed to clear it. “Can’t get my flight jacket off and I just burn up.” Your voice refused to come out any louder than an exhale, but you still managed to speak the last few words.

His eye slowly met yours once more though the thin opening halfway through your confessions and his brow furrowed. “Flight nurse?”

“I was, yeah. Just a kriegie nurse now, I guess.” You laughed wryly, trying to find a comfortable position on the uneven floor, the nail heads poking up into your shoulder.

There was a long pause as he seemed to weigh the pros and cons of unburdening himself to you before exhaling slowly. “I sent my best friend to his death. Least that’s what my dreams tell me. He didn’t want to run, I convinced him and then…well they almost caught him until I distracted them…”

“And got the shit kicked out of you.” You sighed, slipping into your ways of foul language on the edge of sleep, in the dark of your room.

Thankfully, by the twitch of his lips, he did not seem terribly put out by it.

“Basically.” He heaved a great sigh and you nodded, sliding your fingers under the door, as far as your knuckles would allow.

“No matter what happened, Bucky, he’s not in a place like this anymore. And that is a mercy.”

“Hmmm.” He hummed, unconvinced and you swallowed.

“What kind of man is he?” You lined up for another approach.

“Smart, too damn smart of any of this – built a radio out of a list of random junk I collected for him. He’s got the sweetest girl back home who writes him like clockwork. They were gonna get married if he got back. Was gonna be his best man.”

Taking a deep breath to summon your façade of brave optimism once again, for his sake, you nodded firmly. “When he gets home, you will be his best man.”

He looked to you hopefully, slowly sliding his fingertips to brush against yours beneath the coarse wooden bottom of the door. “Yeah?” He breathed.

“Yeah, Bucky. Yeah.” You nodded again, offering a smile, hoping it somewhat reached your eyes. “Now. Let’s try and get you some sleep.”

“Didn’t hear anything ‘bout you in that statement, angelfish.” He murmured sleepily and you hummed with drowsy laughter.

“I’m just about there, but not until you give in first.”

After a few beats of silence, you cracked your eye to check on him, pressing your lips together to smother your laugh as you caught him quickly squeezing his eye shut. It was not long, however, until his breathing evened and deepened, his mind at last surrendering to the sleep his body desperately needed. Swallowing tightly, heart throbbing slightly at the way his face softened, and the way his fingertips remained pressed stubbornly against yours as tightly as the door would allow, you tucked the pillow under your head, sliding your eyes shut to try and get some rest as well.

Despite the wildly uncomfortable position, you somehow managed to remain asleep until the next morning when Bucky began to shuffle and shift, soft noises of discomfort escaping him as he tried to find his way back to his feet.

“Roll onto your good side.” You coached through your drowsy state, and he stilled a moment before appearing to obey. “Bend your knees, then push up to sitting.”

There were still some grunts, but fewer overall, and the whole endeavour sounded a lot less like a fish flopping against the door.

“Then use the handle to pull yourself up with your good hand.” Holding your breath you waited until you saw two sock feet, firmly planted and steady on the floor, before rising on your side of the door. “Well done.”

“Still have a bit more time to sleep, angelfish.” He rumbled and you bit your lip fondly at his sleep-roughened voice.

“You, too.” You replied, pressing your forehead against the rustic wood, listening to his footsteps retreat down the hall until only silence remained.

You managed a few more hours’ sleep before the morning guard unlocked the door, delivering your morning pitcher of frigid water for your facsimile of a bath with a sliver of soap and rough wash cloth. Enjoying a breakfast of crackers and margarine, you reported for duty just as Chalmers was discharging Bucky, finding it suddenly difficult to meet his eyes in the light of day – the entire encounter in the dark feeling too intimate to recall in such a crowded, public space.

“Take care, Major Egan.” You smiled friendlily and followed Menzies out to the tent to assist with the removal of a set of sutures.

“You got it, Nurse.” He replied, the marked absence of the quirky nickname born of his inability to speak the day of his arrival halting your steps as you involuntarily glanced back over your shoulder to make sure he was really all right.

A grin slowly unfurled across his face, lighting up his exhausted features before he shot you a playful wink. You swallowed roughly as the day suddenly felt altogether too warm for your oversized sweater.

“Made ya look, angelfish.” He teased and you pressed your lips together desperately trying to smother your responding grin, conceding the fact that he had indeed made you look with a nod, before hurrying after Menzies when he barked your name from further into the canvas extension of the hospital.

Bucky’s discharge, unlike every other patient before him, did not mean that he dissolved into the general population of the camp. Somehow, he still managed to find reasons to make an appearance, dropping off bits of scrap wood to burn that he and his friends had collected to make the time pass faster, or arranging a crew of his men to deliver the hospital’s broth allotment to alleviate that burden from Chalmers and Menzies. He always appeared to be obeying his discharge orders and not hauling anything himself, at least when he arrived with his deliveries. Whether he was behaving out of sight was another question entirely.

Not only was the assistance greatly appreciated, but you found yourself looking forward to his visits as a break from the monotony of grim tasks of which your work consisted. Somehow, despite his worn-down spirit, he still managed to leave you feeling notably lifted by the time he was inevitably shooed out for getting underfoot or distracting you a little too long. Chalmers and Menzies were patient – indulgent even – but even they had their limits.

Four relatively peaceful days passed under this new routine, with no new arrivals in camp but, sadly, a few of the weaker patients in the hospital giving up the fight, until the sound of shots rang out mid-morning on the 18th. A great clamor arose among the patients indoors and the general population beyond the canvas walls of the tent, before a group of prisoners were rushing inside, Bucky at the fore, with an injured prisoner strung across their collective shoulders.

“Lay him here.” You gestured quickly to the cot you had been stripping after the death of its occupant sometime in the night, having succumb to infection and lack of food.

You did not miss the wince that crossed Bucky’s face as he maneuvered the injured man – no more than a boy, really – to lay where you had instructed. At the sight of a deep red stain, rapidly growing in circumference on the boy’s side, your eyes shot wide, and you looked to Bucky sharply.

“Find me Chalmers and Menzies immediately.” You stressed the need for expediency before turning back to begin rapidly pulling at the boy’s clothes, trying to locate the source of all that blood.

The shocking white expanse of his belly finally exposed, you found the gaping wound left by a large calibre round near his belly button, casting about frantically for your basket of fresh bandages to press against it, desperately trying to staunch the flow. What you would not give for a packet or six of sulfa right then. The pressure you put on his tender abdomen drew a yowl of pain from the boy and you frowned up at him sympathetically.

“I know, son, I know. We’re going to get this all fixed up alright?”

“Can’t b, b, believe they shot me! I just…just wanted to see the flowers poking through the fence and they just…Fucking war’s almost over anyway…” He was beginning to shiver uncontrollably, a sure sign of shock and you glanced towards the hospital doors, relieved to see Chalmers and Menzies rushing out to help.

“I’ll bet those flowers were beautiful.” You gulped as the bandage in your hand was rapidly soaked through and grabbed a few more to wipe the area clean, trying to permit the surgeons to inspect the wound itself.

No sooner would you swipe away the rapidly welling crimson fluid, than the hollow below his ribs, carved out by months of hunger, would accumulate a fresh pool of blood. There were noises of dismay before the pair of surgeons rolled the boy to check for an exit wound. They shared a dark look as there was none to be found, shaking their heads at one another. Your patient erupted into a panic, thrashing about, kicking you squarely in the thigh and knocking you back into Bucky, who thankfully stopped your rapid descent toward the muddy floor.

“I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna die!”

“Nurse! Hold him!” Menzies barked and began to fish around in the boy’s wound to see if he could find the bullet.

Shrieking filled the tent as you lunged forward to press down on his shoulders, trying your best to soothe him even as his shirt grew damp with his own blood, transferring to the fabric from your fingers. He was stronger than he looked, the panic only amplifying what little strength he had left, and you sent a grateful nod to Bucky as his much broader palms took over pinning the boy’s shoulders while you collected his flailing hands between yours.

“Easy now, easy. Docs are going get you right as rain, just hold still now.”

“I’m gonna die and there’s not gonna be a heaven and there’s gonna be nothing!” The boy’s wild eyes wheeled on you, fairly punching you in the gut, and you shifted his wrists to grip in one hand against your chest while the other stroked at his hair tenderly with the other.

“Come now – you’re going to be alright. Besides, I’ve met the Pope. You think they’d keep that man in his fancy house and fancy clothes for nothing?”

His lips were growing a frightening shade of white from the blood loss, the rest of him the unsettling grey pallor of imminent death, but he seemed greatly calmed by your papal revelations. His hands shifted to grip at yours and his brow furrowed earnestly, the only movements of his body now were the echoes of the desperate attempts of the surgeons below.

“I want my momma. Tell my momma that I…tell my momma…” He trailed off into a whisper, the light slowly dimming from his eyes until there was nothing, his hands going limp, and he was gone.

Swallowing brutally, you carefully shifted your fingers to his throat, checking for a pulse and turning to Chalmers and Menzies when you found none. A simple shake of your head was all it took to communicate that you had lost the boy. Chalmers let out deep, aggrieved sigh while Menzies threw down a blood-soaked bandage with a wet slap and stormed back into the hospital. Gently setting the boy’s lifeless hands across his chest, you straightened slowly, feeling Bucky eyeing you from the other side of the cot.

Something ugly was welling up inside you, desperately trying to claw its way out, and you took a step back.

“Angelfish?” Bucky’s voice was low and cautious.

Your only response was to shake your head violently before stepping clear of the end of the cot, then breaking into a run. Following in the footsteps of Menzies, the words of the Army Nurse Corps pledge rang through your mind, the words you had sworn to serve by as a Nurse.

‘I shall approach him cheerfully at all times, under any conditions I may find…I shall appear fearless in the presence of danger and quiet the fears of others to the best of my ability.’

Reaching the end of the hallway, you stared at the door to your quarters and nearly choked on the idea of facing that stuffy, windowless room. You needed air. Needed to breathe. Turning sharply to the left, you continued along past the utility room and out the backdoor into the small courtyard between the hospital and the barbed wire fence that separated the Russian side of the camp.

‘…I will remember that, upon my disposition and spirit, will in large measure depend the morale of my patients.’

The flight nurse’s creed came flooding back to you next as you sought refuge between the back of the hospital and the bowed lines of laundry, stained sheets and bandages hung in the weak April sun to dry. What a different person you had been when you had spoken those damn words at your graduation from Flight Nurse Training.

Taking short, sharp gulps of air, each inhale was used to forcefully shove down the scream that was bubbling perilously in your throat. You paced to-and-fro, bloody hands planted on your hips. Surely you looked nothing short of mad when Bucky rounded the corner of the building, using that aggravatingly soft voice again as he spoke your name, making your head snap towards him.

“You’re not supposed to be back here.” You choked out, turning from him, fixing to flee once more.

“Too bad.” He ground out as he continued coming closer, clearly intent on comforting you, but if he got too near, you were terrified you were going to shatter entirely.

“Patients aren’t supposed to see me like this.” You could barely speak, hiccoughing and shuddering breaths intersplicing your words awkwardly as your grip on your emotions began to slip through your bloody fingers.

“Not here as a patient.” He muttered and slid his arms around you, pulling you close and you buried your face into his chest to let out a wail of agony – for the man who died in front of your eyes, for the horrid situation you found yourself in.

Somehow, you managed to maintain the wherewithal not to grab at him with your filthy hands, arms sticking straight out behind him awkwardly as you squeezed his sides with your elbows, knees threatening to give out as you found yourself not having to be the strong one for the first time in quite a long time. Bucky’s grip only tightened on you, fingers curling into your shirt to hold you up patiently as you cried yourself hoarse against him. Eventually there were no more tears to cry, the self-pity and grief you had stored up over the past few months running dry. Pulling back slightly, you wiped at your face with your sleeves, accidentally exposing a portion of the angrily scarred flesh on your left forearm.

Not missing the way his eyes flicked to it immediately, you sharply pulled your cuffs down and straightened fully. “You should get out of here before some goon puts a hole in you…”

It was supposed to be a joke, but your voice wobbled threateningly in abhorrence at the thought of losing someone else today, and Bucky promptly pulled you close again.

“Easy angelfish, not gonna get myself shot now. Not after you went through all the trouble of bringing me back.”

Sniffling affectionately against him, you pulled back to meet his eyes. “Thank you, Bucky.” You patted his chest fondly. “But please don’t go around carrying any more people with those broken ribs.” You gave him a stern look, finding it difficult to deliver as he smirked with a soft laugh in return.

 With a soft sigh, you moved to return inside and assist with the clean up.

“Bucky?” You stopped and turned back to him suddenly.

“Yeah, angelfish?” He glanced over his shoulder, halfway to the other side of the building.

“What’s your first name?”

He raised an eyebrow. “John.”

Nodding slowly, you swallowed tightly. “Thank you, John.” You repeated firmly before pulling open the door and heading inside to the utility room to fill a bucket with some water to rinse out the bloody cot.

-------------------------

Read Part Three

The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist

Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @luminouslywriting, @softspeirs, @sunny747, @storysimp, @slowsweetlove, @httpsmoon, @buckysegan, @justheretoreadthxxs, @precious-little-scoundrel

#john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #major john egan x reader #john egan x you #john egan fic #john egan imagine #john egan #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction

[somber-sapphic]

Snow Daze

〖Summary: Shoveling snow while sick is a nightmare combination.〗

〖Word Count: 2.1k〗

〖Pairing: Wanda x Sick Reader〗

〖Notes: Sorry it took so long to get this done, I got sick and couldn't write for the life of me. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this and feel free to send me an ask if you'd like to read anything!〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Waking up to fresh snowfall brought different reactions for everyone. Some felt joy upon seeing their ordinary world coated in white, they loved the whimsy that came with the weather. To others it was more frustrating. It was a chore that had to be dealt with as early as possible to make room for the day. You fell into the latter category.

When you woke up on what was supposed to be a lazy Sunday morning you were less than thrilled to see a blanket of snow covering the yard, driveway and cars. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy the snow, you loved watching it fall in large fluffy flakes and every so often you would have a snowball fight with the avengers. Really you loved the snow, but you hated the cleanup. You hated it more with a stuffy nose and a dull ache in your body that clearly indicated that you were getting sick.

There was this little competition among the heroes about who could shovel the most snow, it was their way of turning a chore into a fun workout. You didn’t find it nearly as fun as them. You would rather just get the damn job over with without all of the smack talk and teasing, but they insisted on it.

Wanda had gotten so tired of their antics that she’d dubbed herself ‘maker of the hot coca’ to get out of it. Natasha loved it, she felt great when she could beat the superhumans at anything and generally just enjoyed competition. You participated only because you were a relatively new member of the team (compared to the others) and didn’t want to make yourself look weak.  

Staring out at the vast expanse that was the Avengers Compound driveway you couldn’t help but feel a bit of self-pity. You had just woken up and you were already feeling awful. Your nose was so stuffy that you couldn’t breathe through it, but it was also running. Your throat burned every time you swallowed, and you were sure that the cough that would be coming would make it hurt even worse.

It wasn’t like you had much of a choice though, you could hear Steve beginning to yell at everyone to get up and dressed for 20-degree weather. With a harsh sneeze you began to get ready, pulling on the warmest clothes you could find which included doubles of everything. Even with the two layers you were shivering hard, unable to get warm.

You stared at yourself in the small mirror, studying the dark smudges under your eyes and the sickly pallor of your face. Your nostrils were already rimmed red from rubbing them and your lips were badly chapped. Whatever this was it was hitting fast and hard.

A loud knock startled you out of your daze and back into reality. You shuffled to your door, hindered by the extra layers and your own dizziness. Opening it revealed an excited looking Steve with a big smile on his face and wearing winter clothes.

“You ready Y/n? It looks heavy!” He greeted, grinning at you. His joyful tone was baffling, but you were determined to prove yourself as an individual with no powers and far less experience than the others.

“Lets do this.” You croaked, confirming that you sounded as bad as you felt. Steve’s eyebrow twitched and his expression morphed into one of concern, but you brushed it off with a quiet cough and a smile.

“Sorry, my throat is a little dry. I think I need to talk to FRIDAY about increasing the humidity in here.” You said, offering an easy explanation for what could easily be a fluke. The cough had done wonders to clear your throat and you didn’t sound quite as awful. A bit nasally, but not like death.

Cap nodded enthusiastically, too focused on the idea of what he was sure would be an intense workout to really notice the state you were in. If you said you were fine, he was in no place to question you.

“Lets do this!”

You grabbed your coat and followed the superhero out of your bedroom where you practically ran into a very tired looking Wanda. The witch wasn’t sure why it was so important for her to be awake as she was only making cocoa for everyone, but the boys had refused to give her peace.

When she saw you, her eyes went wide, and you couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks. The way she looked at you with worry and love, it was just something you’d never seen before meeting her.

When you first joined the team, she had been incredibly kind to you, she’d understood your fear and done everything to make you feel welcome. It hadn’t taken long for you to fall head over heels for her. Thankfully she could read your mind otherwise you never would’ve gotten the courage to ask her out.

“Y/n, are you okay? You look…not great.” She said softly, not wanting to attract the attention of anyone else. You smiled again and nodded slightly, wondering if she could tell that you were lying. You had always been good at it, but you knew that she could sense emotions without trying if they were strong enough.

“I’m fine. I just woke up, that’s it. Will you put marshmallows in my hot cocoa?” You asked, leaning in to peck her on the cheek. The brunette hummed quiet concern, but nodded after a moment and squeezed your hand.

“Of course, baby. Come inside if you need a break, okay? No need to put yourself at risk for a chore, it will get done.” She kissed you, her soft red lips brushing gently against yours. You did the best you could to return the kiss, but it was everything you could do not to fall apart. The last place you wanted to be was outside in the freezing cold, you wanted to be with Wanda who was comfortable and warm. Later you’d find yourself wishing that you gave into that want.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A chesty cough bubbled from your lips as you threw another shovel full of heavy wet snow over your shoulder, but this time you did nothing to suppress it. You no longer cared if someone heard you, you were tired and cold. It had been two hours of moving piles of incredibly heavy snow and you were barely halfway done.

Natasha glanced over at you but said nothing. She’d been watching you deteriorate for a while now but didn’t want to force you inside when you were being so stubborn. She had internally decided that if you didn’t go in soon, she would get Wanda to come get you.

 The boys were getting even more competitive as they got bored, and Clint had started throwing snowballs. You were thankful that you were on the other side of the driveway away from that nonsense.

One thing your slightly feverish brain hadn’t considered was that the others might retaliate. What had started as one man throwing a few snowballs had turned into a full-blown snowball fight in less than a minute. You tried to avoid your teams’ antics and just continue with the snow removal, but it was too late for that.

Before you could think to react one very well packed snowball slammed you in the face and another hit the back of your head. You froze as icy slush slid down your back and chest, bypassing your jacket to soak into your soft cotton undershirt. You stared at Steve who had thrown the one that hit your face with an expression of shock and anger that was barely masking tears.

You threw the shovel down and whipped around, a wave of spots dancing in your vision as you began to march back toward the front doors. You glared daggers at Clint who had thrown the other snowball and flipped them both off as you trudged your way through the snow, hot tears beginning to drip down your freezing cheeks.

When you got inside you didn’t even bother taking off your boots, you just stomped through the foyer and to the elevator, pushing the button you knew would get you to the kitchen and your girlfriend.

“Mx. Y/l/n, your vitals indicate—”

“Shut up FRIDAY.” You snapped, coughing aggressively into your elbow as you waited the few seconds for the elevator to get to your floor. You didn’t care what the AI had to say, you knew that you were sick, and you were so angry that all you really wanted to do was scream.

When you finally made it to the kitchen the snow had begun to melt. You stood in front of Wanda dripping and shivering, doing everything you could to keep yourself from sobbing.

“Oh love, you’re freezing.” The brunette breathed, shaking her head as she rushed to comfort you. She began to take off your coat and you just let her. The tears coming faster as her aura of compassion washed over you, reassuring you that you weren’t alone.

The young Sokovian woman set your coat on a chair and pulled you in for a hug, giving you silent permission to break down. You did just that and buried your head in her shoulder as you began to sob out your frustration at the world. Wanda held you like that, crying coughing and sneezing for probably five minutes before she pulled away, seeming not to care that you’d ruined her shirt.

“Come on Y/n/n, let’s get you in bed.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

When she said that you expected to be brought to your bedroom, but instead you found her leading you to hers. Once there she helped you change into her softest pajamas and tucked you into her bed without a second thought.

The whole thing happened so fast that your fever clouded brain barely had time to catch up when Wanda left you alone only to return a moment later with a mug of tea.

“Here you go sweetheart. Drink this for me, it’ll warm you up.” Wanda said gently, pushing a mug into your hands. She had never made you any cocoa, she knew that you were getting sick and decided that tea would be best.

“Thanks.” You rasped, not sure what else to say. You’d never really been taken care of before and being sick around your girlfriend was strange. The relationship was still on the newer side, so you were worried about doing something wrong and messing it up.

The witch kissed your forehead and took her seat beside you on the soft bed. She wrapped a blanket around your trembling shoulders and made quiet noises of concern as she fussed, something you found yourself enjoying. It was nice to feel cared for and she did it better than anyone else.

“How about we watch a show while you warm up?” She suggested reaching for the remote on her bedside table. You nodded silently and wiped your nose on your sleeve, your throat hurt, and you weren’t really up to talking anymore. Wanda tilted her head at your action and placed a box of tissues in your lap with a little smile.

“Use these instead.” She directed, turning her attention to the TV. You obliged and grabbed a tissue to blow your nose which was definitely better than just wiping it.

Wanda flipped through channels and began to play with your hair as she did so, dragging her nails in patterns across your skull. The effect was amazing, you instantly felt calmer and settled against her even more, practically melting into her side.

You focused your eyes on whatever show she had put on; it was brightly colored and animated. It didn’t really matter to you what she decided to watch, you were too sick to pay attention to it.

You took a sip of the hot tea, relishing the way it soothed your throat and warmed your insides. The snow had been hell, but you were finally able to relax thanks to your amazing girlfriend. You vowed silently to repay the favor the next time she got sick and go above and beyond to take care of her the same way she was doing for you.

#sickfic #fanfiction #sick fanfiction #fever #marvel sickfic #marvel #sick reader #marvel mcu #fever whump #wanda maximoff #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda x sick reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #wanda marvel #sick fanfic #wanda mcu #mcu sickfic #avengers sickfic #avengers #flu #caretaking #fluff