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#that’s what made him lose full control over his emotions
diejager · 6 months
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Nooo but there is something about the monster au where there is a casual mention from her that she won't live as long as them (I assume monsters/hybrids are longer lived plus she is a lot more likely to die on mission), like she probably just jokes about it offhandedly and it sends all of them feral because... no? Absolutely not? Insulting. Ridiculous. Not happening.
Cue ultimate clinginess, all rushing to be more intimate because the thought of her not being around is abhorrent. Soap maybe losing it a bit going off on a line of thought about how he could mate her right? Would it be awful if there was a way for her to be a wolf shifter?
I AM GOING TO LOSE MY MIND
Change cw: mention of turning, mention of death, joking about death, tell me if I missed any.
All options are on the table at this point, death had always been something that loomed over them like a shadow, the veil and sickle of death following you wherever you went. You’ve had more than one reminder of your short life, your vulnerability as a human, weak and tender skin, short lives and a delicate body. There were so many things in the world that could pose a possible danger to you and they hated that.
You lived shorter lives than most monsters or hybrids, you grew sick and frail whereas hybrids could fight any viral infections or diseases, you didn’t have thicker skin despite all the extra layers of protective gear and you were a target of many for your choice of career. They were reminded of you mortality whenever you get hurt, blood painting your skin with a strong, metallic odour.
And it didn’t help that you’d often joke about it, throwing offhanded comments that made their hackles raise, body tense and mind brewing with what ifs scenario that has them tearing their hair from the root. While some monsters were more solitary than others, all of them were possessive of what they deemed their family —pack.
Ghost and König stuck closer during training, a tall, imposing figure behind you that acted as a guard dog to ward away anyone they deemed a danger. Soap and Horangi hung around you in the rec room, either laying on you or clinging to you, putting a show of ownership over you. Rudy and Alejandro, the ever active couple, were always finding you around the base, striking up a conversation and wrapping their arms around you. Gaz would was the cuddliest of the group, finding time outside of his busy to snuggle up against you and cover you with his wings, pulling you to sleep on his shoulder. Price, the man with the most authority in the TF made sure that you were always with someone on every Op, having someone to back you up in the most dire situation.
Every visit to the medic made them wild, it brought them closer to desperate measures. Would it be so bad to turn you in one? Would it be so bad to let Soap bite you during the full moon, his bite infecting you with his power: thicker skin, sturdier build, longer lifespan and better sense? The only draw backs were the higher wildness, near feral during full moons and a competitive mindset over the possessiveness and brattiness of a young werewolf.
Would it be so bad to make you return as a wraith? While Ghost learned to control his powers alone, the pain and emotions building up in his body without any way of letting it out, you had him, you wouldn’t be alone with the resurrection. He didn’t want you to feel the terror and agony by yourself —he didn’t want you to know how it felt to die and come back.
Would it be so bad to have a vampire turn you into one without becoming a thrall? You couldn’t walk in the sun, something you told them you enjoyed, you’d be restrained to specific activities and you wouldn’t like that, being limited by the sun. Granted, there were solutions to that, but none very comfortable.
They knew you were aware of your mortality, made fun of it and laughed as it this was your last day, but you didn’t fear death, you only feared leaving them. You were open to their thoughts, listening to their ideas and options with a neutral expression, but you didn’t reject the idea of turning you. That was a good thing, a step forward in their mind.
Now all that needed to do was to let you decide which path you wanted to walk.
tag list: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel
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samodivaa · 2 months
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Winter Soldier x Nurse!Reader —Regular sex health checks are important Warnings - smut, dacryphilia, choking, breeding, precum play
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The cold stethoscope against his chest and you being so gentle. He is now possessed by a vast irrationality. You are so near that he feels his breathing change, but his training comes in a trite remark. “Any problems?” he whispers, unmoving from his seated position on the hospital bed. Soldat knows he would not enter further into your life, but that adds to rather than diminished his passion for you—this makes it difficult for him to distinguish between his programmed detachment and the new coldness in his soul. He is serving Hydra against his will with negations and emotional neglect—but with you, he wants to stand still forever in your office. All he knows is pain. All he feels is desperation—but getting hurt on missions means having to come here. “No, but your heart beats faster, because of the serum and that is so fascina-”
You ramble on, but then you lift your eyes, searching for his. You catch something facetious in them and you silence yourself. It is a dangerous need—he is careful, to the point of self-consciousness, waiting for you to make the first move. Your gaze makes his trousers bulge, pushing up his heart into his throat—you kiss him and he pulls you against him. Your breathing is eager and exciting—lips are faintly chapple, but soft in the corners. You love him. But he doesn't know how to love. All he gives is temporary bliss. It has never occurred to you that this desire is not love, it’s ownership, it’s your flesh. “Полегче” you say innocently. (take it easy) You look for love hiding in his eyes and you find nothing but coldness and darkness.
“К сожалению, не могу” he urges excitedly. (unfortunately, I can’t) Domination. Control. His need is so immense that you become surrounded by it—his metal hand grips perfectly around your throat as if it’s made for that, while receiving the gift of your full submission. He places precise pressure, as air flow slowly dissipates in the depths of your body. These are such sacred moments, the strength in his hand is accompanied by verbal orders to submit fully to both his will and needs. His hand becomes God in that moment, he can take life or grant mercy, he chooses to offer pleasure in exchange for control. “Hе двигайся” he warns with a scornful smile. (don’t move) You look at him speechless. The startling, incredibly supercilious tone of Soldat who needs to be the one submitting to you, is extraordinary in itself—it turns you on every time. Fate has played a cruel trick and turned you both into nothingness, but he is masterful at twisting the situation and working the rules to get what he wants from you. You are not in control of your own lives, someone else is pulling the strings—but he does the same to you. An electric thrill races through you, your lungs shuddering in your chest, you are trapped and want him to silence the warmth pooling between your legs. “I can kill you” he mumbles and grips your throat tighter, depriving you of any oxygen. “But I won’t” 
His flesh hand moving at the waist of his pants, pulling out his erect cock. Your feminine hands move to grab the choking hand as you start to lose your vision, silently warning him and Soldat loosens his grip—you take three deep breaths and he chokes you once again, mouth agape, but your airway is blocked, restricting any flow to the lungs. You are glowing right in front of him, so near—longing is calling, making it harder for him to control himself any longer. Sensuality begins here with short glances at your body and ends with the hunger for touch, hunger for total control over your body. “Poor little snegurochka” he says while the other hand strokes his cock, wetting it with his pre-cum. Your inability to breathe makes him vehemently intoxicated for more. He needs to test your limits. The smile on his face, the perfect teeth, contrasting with the damp hair and unshaven face increases your sense of panic as your vision is clouding once more. Tears in your eyes form without any change in your facial expression. It’s pure pleasure, pure pain and pure surrender to the moment. “Fuck” he says, barely audible as he drags his fingers across his tip, gathering more pre-cum before moving his fingers close to your face “Open your eyes” Your lashes flutter softly, to not squirm away from his touch, it always drives you crazy, and he knows it. Your chest is heaving—you have almost forgotten what breathing feels like when he loosens his grip around your throat. He gently rubs your lower lip, a sticky finger working its way inside of your mouth, pressing on your tongue, eliciting a gag before removing it completely. Holding you in place, he lowers his face to yours, smirking  “I love it when you cry”  he says before running the tip of his tongue along your face, tasting your tear that has just fallen  “It makes my dick hard” . He tilts his head back and lowers his lips to yours and they get bitten to the point of bleeding. Winter feels a metallic taste on his tongue as he pulls back to admire his work, licking his lips, smiling disgustingly. The sharp taste of blood only whetting his appetite.
“You want more, don’t you?” he mutters, his own voice cracking. And then, his hot mouth is breathing into your ear, his hand still holding your neck as his lips ghost over your earlobe, then the metal hand dips from your neck to your breast. “I want you on the bed, Doctor” A note of feeling and tenderness suddenly comes into his voice “I want you” he adds ironically in conclusion. A shiver shakes you when he gets up, you go backwards two steps before his fingers find their way on both sides of your hips, drawing soft circles as they travel up towards your waist. In a split second, he puts you on the bed as if you weigh nothing, his thumbs dig into your skin, and he peels your legs apart, inserting himself between them. He can't suppress the desire to intertwine his metal fingers through your hair, tugging your head back and kissing you, the light pain forces your mouth open and uses that to savor it with his tongue. His need for air finally rips his tongue out from yours, sticky strands of spit spilling between your mouths as you share collective gasps of breath.
Your eyes speak, while the tongue is mute, your chin is quivering and your eyes are still moist—love and lust tangle in a harsh and uninviting setting. No conceivable prospects. No happiness. But at this moment, it is just you and your Asset. Without realizing what you are doing and more on an impulse than anything else, you lean forward and kiss him. It is a simple, yet firm kiss and you pull back after only a moment. You expect Soldat to lean down for another. He doesn’t. His chuckle strokes your nerves in all the wrong ways. Your jaw snaps shut so tightly, that you are surprised you don’t crack a molar.
“So fucking needy” His voice sounds flat as if someone has struck a false note on the piano—his mind consists of black and white keys—and you have pressed the wrong one "I only intend to fuck” A gasp leaves your lips as he rips your uniform, which sets all the muscles of your face quivering—you can't force romance, you realize. It's there or it isn't. He hooks one leg around his hip while the other is pressed against your chest, bending over his left shoulder. His tip against your entrance, teasingly rubbing against you before he shoves his cock inside your cunt with a swift thrust, stretching you out so nicely, but it hurts—as his tip hits your cervix and makes you want to scream. You are a maelstrom of emotions. All you want to do is scream. But you can’t. You manage a high-pitched groan. He is a mess, your lips part as your eyes widen at the sounds he makes—Soldat is panting, labored breaths on your neck, his breath hitting you as he bites on your skin, teeth dragging against your neck, living marks. The primal lust, the sheer need to claim you, quickly finding ways to express his sacred hunger to you in animal passion. Something strange starts to rage inside him, hearing you inhale sharply as he continues to lick and bite your neck, leaving bruises deliberately and as he fucks you deeper, wanting to mark you in an entirely different way—he wants to breed you, his cock twitches inside you as he thinks about it. His eyes are deep, shaded with possessiveness. The most interesting and curious part is he rarely speaks with eyes, but he knows how much you love to be watched—his unblinking gaze has you hooked, your whole body tenses abruptly when he lifts his face from your neck, you moan, feeling the orgasm approaching. You can't take it anymore. It is too much, too fast, and the way he is looking down at you is just cruel. With a pathetic whimper you come all over his length, not for once breaking eye contact—it is addicting to know that he is watching you fall apart. This is bliss. His eyes always bring you over the edge at the right moment, leaving an imprint on your heart. 
Soldat is not going to last much longer, something about your eyes—about you being the one watching him now, his body lurches forward, his movements stagger, growing erratic and with a low groan—he pushes himself flush with a sense of finality, coming deep inside you with a residual rock of his hips, multiple pints of hot slimy cum shoot inside your body, riding out your over-stimulated hole with a full body shudder.
Almost painfully he takes his eyes from you. Nothing in this world is more difficult than the reality.
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randomishnickname · 7 months
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Must-read Destiel fics - my superduper Nov. 5th rec list
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Three years ago, on the blessed day of November 5th, 2020, I had:
never seen an episode of SPN,
only had a vague inkling of what the two pale coconuts were on about,
and I hee-heed and ha-had with the rest of Tumblr about the love confession scene and the Internet errupting in an unparalleled craze
At first I thought, that's it.
Then ... I got curious. I watched some YouTube Destiel supercuts. I read some fic (I think @andhumanslovedstories beautiful Cas/OC fic was my entry point?). I read meta. I watched some more YouTube scene packs. I read even more fic. I watched some of S4, some of S1, some random fan fav episodes. And then Destiel lodged itself so deeply, thouroughly into my brain that it took over and hasn't relinquished control in the last two years. The most tenacious, pervasive brain worm to date.
This ship got it all, and this fandom got it all, and there's such delightful, powerful, batshit crazy, romantic, expertedly crafted fanfic out there, it's like being a starving child in the world's biggest candystore.
So without further ado, here's some of my very favorite fics from this infinite trove, with all my thanks to the wonderful writers who keep delighting and awing me with their dedication and craft. There'll of course be some recency bias at play but you can browse my bookmarks over here to chose from over 100 excellent and well-curated SPN stories.
💕CATEGORY: SWOONWORTHY💕
Wildly romantic fics that warm you up from the inside.
It Won't Be Perfect by someonetoanyone (10K words) Summary: Dean daydreams about what it'd be like to let himself love Cas freely.
Why I love it: the humor, the spot-on characterizations, and the quintessential late season Destiel-ness of being so deeply love with your best friend that it's too big to actually do anything about. Just. So warm.
Rock Lobster by Ginger Fail (13K) Summary: Cas decides that the lobsters Dean planned to cook need to get back home. Impromptu beach vacation ensues!
Why I love it: This road trip story is fresh and invigorating like a sea breeze! Fun, entertaining and full of deep, deep fondness.
Seek to Know You Better by ahurston (32K)
Summary: On a road trip, Dean and Cas play the 36 Questions That Lead To Love.
Why I love it: They’re so deliberatedly, carefully starting a relationship here. They try so hard to bridge the gaps and meet each other halfway. A very mature take on love that feels nourishing.
☢️CATEGORY: BRAINWORMS GALORE☢️
Fics that make you go BARK BARK BARK.
samson went back to bed by piesexuality (9k, @twoheadedcas) Summary: Cas strikes a deal with Chuck - keeping his family together comes at the price of their free will.
Why I love it: What if Cas got his revenge for the Mala'ak box? What if love came at the price of everything you've been fighting for? What if a story twisted the knife oh so sweetly? Each word of this one lands a punch. Made me insane in the best of ways (cue pinned fanart).
In sickness by @saintedcastiel (41K) Summary: S4 redux but Castiel has a fetish: giving Dean the sniffles.
Why I love it: This one is soooo. Can barely find words for it. It taps into Cas' early season alienness and psychosexual obsession with Dean, brilliantly demonstrates Casdean vs Samruby parallels, and each word is just. Perfect. ARGH!
so much smoke in a hall full of mirrors by AreYouReady (6K, @autisticandroids ) Summary: Godstiel is losing his heavenly war. Crowley provides a compliant Dean-doll for him to release his frustrations upon.
Why I love it: Urgh, this one is sooo dark. Taps into the scary, intimidating and alien aspects of Godstiel so well. Gore, consent and psychosexual issues galore. Delicious.
Special mention: In a Parked Car, Exhuming Ophelia by @an-android-in-a-tutu (17K). Still need to comment properly ;)
💣CATEGORY: EMOTIONAL WRECKING BALLS💣
Angsty fics that tear you to pieces to remake you better.
What Used To Be Mine by someonetoanyone (48K words) Summary: Dean never makes his apology prayer in Purgatory - Cas dies, Dean mourns.
Why I love it: Oh god, this is a heavy hitter. Just, straight up insurmontable grief, packaged in poetic, raw language to make you shed tears and tears. Loved it so much.
Ignite your bones By ilovehowyouletmefall (67K, @angelinthefire) Summary: Dean accepts Chuck's deal: killing Sam to save the world.
Why I love it: Cruuuuel cruel premise for a story that doesn’t pull its punches. It gets dark in Dean’s head and everyone around him suffers. Wonderfully written. The ending set my brain on fire.
Right Where you Left Me by outdean (93K, @armandgender)
Summary: Cas comes back from the Empty after 10 years to find Dean married to another man.
Why I love it: This one is a riiiide. When grief has become a part of you but your love comes back… When you return from the dead and have to carve a new space into the world for yourself... nothing is easy here, but the emotions are INTENSE. Also, autistic!Cas for the win.
Special mention: Who Ya Gonna Call? by saintedcastiel (50K) and Clear skies in spring by enochianprayer (WIP)
💥CATEGORY: EPIC RIDES💥
Expansive, wild adventures with lots of ups and downs
Spirit of the West by teen_dean (140K, @urne-buriall)
Summary: An 18y old Dean grew up on a horse farm – cue veterinarian Castiel. The summer of a lifetime ensues.
Why I love it: So this is one of my very favorite stories, ever ever, and I cannot recommand enough to immediatedly suscribe to the author’s Substack to be able to follow it in „real time“ next summer. It’s cinematic, rich, full of darkness and light, it’s everything a story can aspire to, I’m just. I just really love it.
Second Verse, Same as The First by LaLaCat1 (135K)
Summary: Endverse!Cas is sent back to the start of S1 and is determined to make things right this time round.
Why I love it: a desperate and badass Cas, unfridging everyone, a thrilling plot, moments of awesome for the entire cast, gripping action scenes, a romance for the ages… this is a genuinely amazing story.
back road, black road by eden22 (167K)
Summary: 18y old Sam gets kidnapped by Hell on his way to Stanford. Dean tries to deal.
Why I love it: So this one’s not Destiel-centric but does have wonderful Destiel moments. It’s also very heavy on the gore and the angst (NOT for the faint of stomach), but expertly crafted, fascinating and frankly it deserves more love. Held my breath for half the read and never knew where it’d take me.
Special mention: It's The End Of The World (As We Know It) by tiamatv (140K)
🤪CATEGORY: DESTIEL INSANITY🤪
Uproariously funny stories about the intricate rituals these two weirdos get up too.
Life Skills by ilovehowyouletmefall (26K)
Summary: Dean teaches a newly human Cas how to be „a real man“.
Why I love it: Dean coming to Big Self-Realizations while trying to have platonic threesomes with Cas is so perfect. Very endearing, tender and funny. Also, smoking hot sex.
the cheapest room in the house by biggaybenny (89K)
Summary: Dean downloads Grindr for Cas
Why I love it: Just. Late season Dean being deranged about Cas’ sexuality while everyone watches on in utter confusion. Equally hilarious and deeply moving
according to all known laws of life by @sobsicles (29k)
Summary: Cas comes back from the Empty to a Dean who won’t stop playing gay chicken.
Why I love it: They are both such petty, insane weirdos in this one. They said „can every situation be turned into a squabble“ and didn’t wait for an answer. So funny, so tender
Special mention: Wedding Vows and Negotiations by GingerFail (6K)
That's it, enjoy and leave your writers some much-deserved love!
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zablife · 1 month
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Lovefool
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Tommy x gf reader
Summary: An infatuated Tommy finds his gf in a state of confusion, leading him to question her devotion. Will she say she loves him and not another?
Author's Note: Requested by @runnning-outof-time who asked for a story set in the room pictured above. Image credit goes to K for that lovely image in the center of the moodboard!
The soft glow of the fading afternoon sunlight gave an ethereal quality to your family’s drawing room, the pale ivory walls bathed in swaths of peach and gold that welcomed Tommy in despite his late arrival.
Arms full of flowers and lips overflowing with apologies, he carefully approached the center of the room. As he waited to see how you might receive him, his eager blue eyes roved the intricate scrollwork of the plaster moldings which cascaded from the ceiling and walls like clouds come down from heaven.
The high shine of the polished parquet floors reflected the warmth of the sun’s radiance upon your skin, bringing his gaze back to you and the sight left him enchanted. He stuttered out a quiet breath in appreciation of your angelic form in a white satin gown and matching gloves. But as Tommy moved to place a kiss upon your cheek, you shrunk way from him, an unreadable expression crossing your face.
Bringing the bouquet to your nose, you inhaled their rich perfume deeply, a hint of satisfied contentment settling over you. It was not to last. Tommy watched as your mood soon shifted like the wind, your hands relinquishing the colorful blooms moments later to a nearby table.
With an aching dread growing in his chest, he noted the distance between you as you retreated to the semicircular alcove of tall windows. Without so much as a backward glance, you walked into the light, leaving him far behind.
It was not the welcome to which he'd grown accustomed. The evenings of months past were spent intertwined on the sofa as you read from one of your favorite novels, stopping for him to brush the tendrils from your vision so you might continue or share a bit of gossip with him.
An uncharacteristic air of despondency seemed to take hold now as you looked out into the open space before you. Many moments passed in silence, your arms clutched tightly against your body before you finally proclaimed, “You shouldn’t have come tonight, Tom.”
“Why? Are you expecting someone else?” he asked with a half hearted laugh. A harsh gulp followed your silence, afraid to hear the answer.
“As a matter of fact, I am,” you confirmed, pulling back the heavy brocade curtains. Your eyes scanned the front lawn for movement, sensing only the shadows passing over the hedgerow.
As the sun dipped in the sky, a single beam of sunlight graced the ornate marble fountain. The light danced across the rippling water, twinkling back at you in an array of glittering gold and you smiled to yourself as you thought of the magic this particular hour held. In the days after your introduction to Tommy and his love of horses, you would often stroll the grounds near the stables before dinner. However, your joy was quickly stolen by thoughts of what your father had said at breakfast.
Tommy sighed heavily behind you and you glanced over your shoulder to see him slowly approaching.
“Tommy, please, don’t,” you shook your head softly as he began to reach for you. 
“What’s wrong, eh?” his tone was gentle, but the concern he held was evident by the crease of his brow as he noted your puffy lower lip, swollen from your incessant biting. He’d come to notice it was a nervous habit of yours, albeit one that made you even more attractive. He would have kissed your ruby red lips if you hadn’t looked so distressed.
“Father says I ought to consider my options for the future. I’m afraid that no longer includes you,” you confessed flatly, afraid you’d lose control of your emotions if you didn’t hold tightly to the facade of well-mannered elegance.
Tommy's jaw clenched involuntarily at the thought of your father's duplicitousness, but also chided himself for being so thoroughly distracted by the mess Michael had made of everyone's finances recently. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he attempted a calming breath before asking, “And what of your mother?”
“Mother says I shouldn’t bother with someone who doesn’t deserve me,” you answered without considering how hurtful your declaration sounded. As soon as the words left your mouth, you recoiled slightly at the harshness. Eyes flicking up toward Tommy’s crestfallen face, you added defensively, “You’ve been away for weeks now with so few calls."
“I see,” Tommy uttered on a low breath. It was true the board meetings and paperwork had taken more of his time than he would have liked. “There were things I had to take care of,” Tommy began to explain before you cut him off.
“Yes, I understand, but that doesn't change the fact that mother says you’re not serious about me," you argued.
Fidgeting with your gloves you admitted that your parents had invited a handsome Bostonian named Jack Nelson to dinner one evening. With their blessing he'd taken you to the pictures and then dancing. Soon he was a regular guest at your parents' home, usurping Tommy's place at the table.
Tommy felt all the air leave the room as he recognized the name of the rival gangster. They'd seen one another two weeks earlier in London and exchanged cryptic remarks about his penchant for blue bloods and aspiration which made perfect sense now.
“You’d consider Jack Nelson’s proposal?” Tommy winced as he recalled the unsettling curl of the man's upper lip when he smirked.
“I don't know, I’m lost in confusion,” you cried, eyes brimming with tears. 
Tommy ran a hand through his hair, unable to believe what he’d just heard. Surely you had to know the difference between his love for you and whatever false promises Jack had made.
The sound of tires crunching against the gravel drive signaled an end to your discussion and you quickly dried your tears. Chin raised high, you prepared to take your leave when Tommy reached for your arm.
“Don’t go,” he pleaded.
"But...my parents...they're expecting me" you stuttered, lost in the deep blue pools of his eyes so close to you they now threatened to swallow you.
Tommy's palm caressed your arm, warmth spreading up you like the last ray of sunlight fading from view. You couldn't help leaning into his touch, needing to hear what he would say.
“I'm sorry I wasn't here, but you have to know...I haven’t spent a day without thinking about you,” he confessed, eyes glistening hopefully.
A single tear cascaded down your cheek at his admission, savoring the words you'd longed to hear even though you knew they came too late.
Tommy's heart clenched in his chest at the sight of it, silently willing you to listen a moment longer. "Does he know?"
"Know what?" you whispered.
"That you like simple daisies most? Or that you're allergic to lavender?" he asked in a pinched voice, a lump growing in his throat at the thought of your hand slipping from his and losing you forever.
"Oh, Tommy..." you sighed, realizing he'd recognized your habit of pressing the delicate white flowers into your books when he brought them to you and how you sneezed when you'd passed the rows of purple blooms your mother planted in the garden. "I...I don't think anyone ever thought to notice," you admitted sadly. Your comfort had never been a priority to anyone before.
Tommy brought you in close to his body, stroking your back gently as he spoke. "You're the most precious thing to me in this world. How could I not have noticed?"
With that you began to weep openly and he embraced you tightly, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.
"Everything's going to be fine, darling. I'll speak with your father and make things right. I love you," he swore to you with such earnestness you didn't doubt him for a moment.
“I love you too, Tommy,” you answered breathlessly.
Wiping your tears away with pad of his thumb, Tommy's grin widened and his eyes twinkled with mischief as he added, "Then let's go tell that Nelson bastard to fuck off!"
"Yes, let's!" you agreed with a giggle. And you exited the drawing room hand in hand.
----------------------------
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angelstate · 4 months
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Husband!Soap x Wife!Reader.
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Husband!Soap is one hell of a lover, he is everything you could ever ask for in a man. He is attentive and caring, he truly appreciates you and loves you in a way that shouldn’t be possible for humans to feel.
He does everything he can to show you just how deeply he feels about you, and it manifests as much in little things as in the big things. For example, your favorite tea is always restocked in the pantry, the washer and dryer are always empty and the clean clothes are neatly folded in your bedroom closet. The bills of the water and electricity services never meet your eye because he pays before you can see the cost of it, he knows you get anxious and worried about that sort of thing.
He is honest about his feelings and you’re always what he has in mind, he likes you and loves you so much to the point he feels like kneeling at your feet and just worships you in every way he can, more than sexually, his love goes beyond that.
you could come up to him one day and tell him that he could never touch again and his feelings wouldn’t falter for one second, he would make do with only being able to admire you like he did for years before he even dared to ask you to be his girlfriend.
Husband!Soap would take the fault for every one of your mistakes, if you break a plate in his parent's house he would say it had been him, if you’re arguing about something he would apologize first, knowing that it wasn’t worth time to yell at each other for something that was a mistake.
He knows you’ll apologize too after you calm down, not wanting to be trapped between high emotions when saying something meaningful to him. you value the control you have over your words and he is a patient man, he would wait a lifetime if it meant to hear you speak so time isn’t wasted with him, every second he experiences your existence is heaven to him.
Husband!Soap hopes for the day the two of you have children, he wants a family with you, wants to build something of himself that is fully constructed in a foundation of love and safety, the one he didn’t necessarily have as a kid.
He wants a big family in the countryside, a view of hills of greenery, tall trees, flowers, and fresh air every morning, to be woken up by the sight of you lying beside him in bed, your pretty face relaxed and messy hair all over your pillow while the sun creeps in from between the curtains, your children sleeping in their bedroom the quietness of the home being something short-lived when they began to wake up, he wants to grow old by your side, raising a beautiful family.
He allows himself to dream about it more than he cares to admit, he knows it won’t happen in a very long time, his job, your career, and other problems stopping the two of you from taking that step but he is a patient man, and he rather takes his time than rush things and risk losing you in the process.
Husband!Soap is a good man, he knows he did everything he could to make your time together merry and happy, to fill it with more good memories than bad ones. and he allows himself to think he did a good job at loving you while he could.
so when he gets shot on the side of his head and the last 7 minutes of brain activity the body is programmed to experience before ultimately dying begin, his mind is plagued with you, meeting you, becoming your friend, asking you to be his girlfriend but most of all, your wedding day.
and it is as if he’s experiencing that day all over again, your voice as you read to him your vows, how sweet of you to write personal ones, full of inside jokes and promises you had made him years ago when you first started dating. He remembers feeling his heart flutter on his chest.
but right now, lying on the cold floor his heart cannot flutter, but the tears falling from his eyes do the job just fine because the memory as beautiful as it is makes him feel extremely sad, he doesn’t want to leave you behind, he wants to live longer, to experience more things by your side.
He wants to have children with you, he wants to see the passing of time affect the two of you, to see the smile lines on your face and know that was his doing, that a lifetime with him granted you marks of happiness in your skin.
He wants more time, God, he wants an eternity with you, he wants as much time as he can get.
He remembers your face when he came home early a few months ago, the excitement filling in the void in your eyes when you first opened the door, he remembers the weight of your body on his arms as you had jumped on him, wrapping your limbs around him and not letting go.
what he would do to see that face again, to hear your squeals of happiness next to his ear and feel the softness of your hair in between his fingers. if he knew that would be the last time he came home to you he would’ve done so much more.
he would’ve fixed the creek of the door, he would’ve washed the dirty clothes on the laundry basket, he would’ve cooked your favorite meal and hugged you just a bit more tightly.
He knows he did his fair share of bad things in the world, but you were nothing short of an angel, you didn’t deserve his death as much as he deserved to die. He knows the fragility of your heart, he knows that you’re a sensitive being that can only be treated gently, and he is afraid death isn’t kind, that grief will swallow you whole before you get a chance to realize that your life shouldn’t end because he did.
Husband!Soap loves you more than you could ever imagine, so when the 7 minutes of brain activity ends, he goes out with the image of your face in his mind, your voice muttering that everything is alright, that you love him as much as he loves you.
you were everything, the sole reason he wished for a brighter future and the reason he died a happy man.
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fairiesdowntheroad · 8 months
Text
SHE LOVES CONTROL — 1.
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summary — Y/N takes the internet by storm,catching the eyes of all due to her performance on the track ; it just happens that she also captured a certain McLaren driver’s attention in the process.
pairing — f1 22-23 grid x fem! driver reader,love interest tbd
warnings — alludes to alcohol consumption,F-bombs here and there,some misogynistic flashbacks,race inaccuracies!!!
prologue | chapter 1 | next chapter
FROM J ⛅️ : hi everyone! we’re finally at chapter 1,let’s goooo!! i tried completing this as quick as i could for you guys — so i hope it’s alright 🌟 nothing really important this chapter,just our golden girl reaching huge milestones and forming a friendship (who knows? 🫣) with a certain someone on the grid.
lmk what you think and hope you enjoy! i wish you guys lots of love <3
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BAHRAIN 23’ : SUNDAY.
P8.
Qualifying P8 overall? That was horrid for everyone’s standards….but qualifying P8 in a Williams that was considered a tractor? That was impressive.First race of the season…
First race in her entire Formula 1 career.
She was nervous,stressed,scared — a whirlwind of emotions really.There was only so much her teammate could do,trying to console her was proved useless as of now.The girl’s mind pranced all over the place,she tried — key word being tried, to slow down her heart.The Brit had taken a seat next to her,watching her lose her mind.He sighed softly,understanding how she would feel yet wanting her to put her doubts and worries to a pause.
Even if they only were acquainted for a few months,he could already read her like a book.She reminded him of himself — a particular time where he was in Toro Rosso.
“Y/N” he called out softly,placing a hand on her shoulder.The girl simply looked up at him with an indifferent expression,though he knew she was hiding all those emotions in her heart.Her hands balled up into fists on her lap,turning a shade lighter than her actual skin was a telltale sign. “You’ll be fine” he reminds her softly.
You’ll be fine.
She will be fine.
The words sinking in,she thought deep and hard about what he said.The worst case scenario would be a DNF — but there were many more races in the season to prove her worth.What if people would hate her for her performance? — people would hate her regardless of what she does ; she’s a woman to begin with.
She nodded her head slowly accepting his words.Don’t get me wrong she was still very nervous….but it couldn’t go absolutely horrid right? “I hope so.” she breathed out,nervous chuckle coming out.
“It’s your first race so I understand the nervousness..but take it easy”
Taking out her phone she scrolled through her messages one last time…only to find a message from her father.Her eyes scanned over the message — trying to hide a smile from forming.
‘Goodluck,will be watching you from the team’s garage’
Not her team though.
Putting the phone away to put on her balaclava and helmet,she quickly made herself comfortable in the car.Checking the settings one last time and doing a radio check ; she was all set to go.She manoeuvred the car out of the pit lane,taking her rightful place between the other 19 cars on the circuit.
“The goal is to maintain your position,overtake if you can but don’t be risky” her race engineer — Rowan informed her.“Copy.” she replied monotously,choosing to put her full attention on the red lights.
Only a few more seconds…and then away we go.It seemed like it would take forever for the light to go off.’You got this’ she repeated over and over again in her head….she would be okay.
3..
2…….
1.
Hitting the throttle to push as much as much as she could,she managed to maintain her position right behind her teammate.Through her side mirror she spotted the obnoxiously pink and blue Alpine trying to catch up to her.Was it Gasly’s or Ocons’s? She didn’t care at all.All she knew was to defend her spot — and playing the supporting role for her teammate.
This went on for a few more laps.She was restless ; her mind thinking of ways to solve the little problem on her hands right now.
Seeing the Alpine begin to close the gap,she pushed the pedal harder than she thought she could.Her heart pumped at undeniable speeds,feeling the adrenaline coursing through.“Gap to Gasly is 6.2 seconds.You can push,the tyres are still fresh” Rowan commented.
“Copy.” She kept her replies short and sweet,all her concentration poured into increasing the distance between her and the other cars behind her.She inched closer to her teammate,not willing to overtake for now.She would have to listen to the team’s instructions…but there was something off.
He was slowing down.
“Alex is going awfully slow” she remarked through comms with worry seeping through.She maintained her pace which caused her to be wheel-to-wheel with her teammate.His car pulled over to the side,leaving her as the only Williams car in the race.Eyebrows furrowing wirh confusement she thought of bringing it up with the team.
“Alex has been instructed to retire the car due to an engine problem—you have to push as much as you can to maintain your momentum.”
Didn’t need to tell her twice.
She said nothing,trying her best to catch up to the two orange McLarens in front of her.Getting closer,the hairs on her neck were pin straight.
“You have DRS.Overtake available”
“Copy” she hummed.Inching even closer then before,there it was.She could overtake now.She drove past by the first McLaren with ease.Oscar,the Australian McLaren driver in question was surprised there was a Williams gliding right in front of him.Sitting comfortably in P6 now,she was on a roll!
Within a few moments,she was able to strike for the overtake over the other McLaren.She was taking her rightful place as P5.
Just a little bit more.
It felt like forever,mere minutes feeling the same as a millennia for the rookie.By now,it was the final lap so she pushed as hard as she could.Passing the finish line she let out a breath of relief — she completed her first race.
“Congratulations Y/N…that is P5.”
P5…
What.The.Fuck.
“You’re joking….right? There’s no way we placed P5” she asked bluntly.She may have sounded blunt — but the girl was overjoyed.
The car was a tractor by how problematic it was during pre-season testing ; how was it in the points now? It was a relief.She laughed obnoxiously,smiling through that balaclava and helmet.
“Believe if it you want but that is a P5 on your debut.Beautiful performance from you — cannot wait to see more” Rowan congratulated her wirh a chuckle,amused at how she was seemed ro be in disbelief.The girl was laughing in joy now.It might not have been a podium like she was used to,but a P5 in a Williams was almost the equivalent of that.
She was nowhere near being satisfied ; but this would have to count for now.
She pulled her car into the garage,hopping out of the cockpit cheerfully.Taking off the balaclava and her helmet,the girl was greeted with cheers and rounds of applause from her team.She bloomed with joy — she didn’t care if her hair was sweaty and all over the place,this was where her hard work has gotten her.
Alex had made his way next to her,bringing the younger girl into a brief embrace.He was disappointed the first race of the season resulted in a DNF for himself,but he would not let that stop him from celebrating his teammate.
“Told you it would be alright” he muttered close to her so she could hear him.She simply flashed him a small smile,her heart filled with gratitude for him.The whole team embraced the two drivers to celebrate,regardless of the outcome.It was a new start.
A good one to say the least.
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MCLAREN: LAP 40/57
The Brit drove comfortably in his McLaren.He was not worried about losing positions now,there was a comfortable distance between him and the car behind him.Driving without a worry,he failed to notice the Williams inching closer and closer to him.
“Lando,you need to push.The Williams is closing the gap between you two.”
What?
There was no way a Williams was behind him.Was he too slow or was the car suddenly blessed by the gods of speed? He couldn’t waste any time pondering further on that — he wouldn’t let himself lose to that tractor.
“Copy.” he replied quickly hitting the pedal to the metal.He tried his best to maintain his momentum ; but it came to no avail.The car had glided right past him in the matter of seconds.
“Was that the rookie’s car?” he asked in disbelief attempting to catch up to the woman in front of him.
“Yes — that was Y/N’s car”
“Fucking hell.”
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The after party was…insane to say the least.
She didn’t exactly oppose parties — but she wasn’t entirely open to them either.The loud screams of joy,sweaty bodies colliding against each other,and the overall smell of alcohol ; she was not really pleased with the thought of parties as a whole.
Everyone in the club was celebrating the start of the season, it would be a memorable one for the books.She was only a few drinks in but ready to call it a day so she could head back to her room.
Stood next to a wasted Alex,he was rambling her ear off about something beyond her comprehension.The pair had showed up together after he convinced her to ; saying something along the lines of ‘enjoying your firsts’ which definetly gave off an entirely different message….
She was unsure of what to do with him — call a cab back to the hotel? let him have his fun? The girl was stuck pondering there and nodding mindlessly to his slurring and rambling.
“I think I’ll take him off your hands for now rookie.”
Her head shot up at the voice approaching her.She instantly knew who it was ; his British accent was hard to miss.The two were cackling at the wasted gentleman.
Greeting him with a nod,she knudged the other driver next to her so he could acknowledge the newcomer.
“LANDO! I’ve been waiting for you” Alex happily chirped,throwing himself to his fellow friend.She watched in amusement as the situation unfolded in front of her.The younger man slinging his senior’s hand around him,he walked towards the center of the party — where the other drivers sat.Their eyes scanned over to a very drunk Alex whose body was supported by the McLaren driver,and then the newbie who did not want to be here.
She flashed a friendly smile to the others as they were welcoming her with cheers.Pierre instantly had to make himself known,greeting her with a wink.She brushed it off,choosing to focus on the others.They went back to being engrossed in their own conversations — she felt out of place.Of course she did! She was a woman standing amongst sweaty and intoxicated men…definetly a position she was not to happy to be in.
Her bubble of thoughts were popped when the young man approached her once more.“Sorry about Alex,I think he’s drinking all that pain from his DNF away.” he remarked,eyes crinkling as he joked.The girl chuckled softly with him.
“He did give me a warning before hand that he was a lightweight — I was surprised it was that bad”
“Well,I would be drinking the night away too if my teammate got a P5 in a midfield car and I had to retire.”
Wow.
He was blunt.
She scrunched her nose at his comment.He smirked at her reaction,hand going over her shoulder in a friendly matter.”Speaking of drinking — you look like you haven’t been doing any of that” he pointed out,eyebrows raised as he wondered the reason for that.
“I don’t drink that much”
“It’s painfully obvious you don’t.” he snarkily commented.The girl raised her eyebrow on him,he was sassier than she expected him to be.She huffed,unsure of what to do with the man next to her.The two had interacted a couple of times through random run ins into each other at the paddock.Shy smiles had been sent to each other…he thought she was Alex’s PR Manager.
“I’m Lando by the way,even if you already knew that.”
“I know — Y/N..” she hummed nonchalantly,the boy raising an eyebrow at her response.She didn’t have any intent of coming off as cold ; she just did not know how to make herself comfortable among them.She was the outcast in her previous years of competing due to her gender — it was unusual to feel welcomed now.
She wondered in the back of her mind,did he have malicious intent or was he just nice?
Y/N was more acquainted with his teammate — Oscar,racing against each other in Formula 2.It was good for Oscar that he got a seat in a prestigious team ; she was unfortunately stuck in the bottom.Speaking of Oscar,she scanned the club to find him nowhere…weird.
“I think I’m ready to call it a night to be honest.” she confessed looking up at him.He laughed whole heartedly at her bluntness.Shaking his head,he patted her back.”By the way,you did good out there.Overtook me like it was a piece of cake” he compliments her as the party goes on.Music began blaring even louder now — bodies dancing like there was no tomorrow.
“I can’t hear you” she said loudly so he could get the message.She did hear what he wanted to say ; she just wanted to hear him say it again.He simply nodded at her,his hand moving itself to intertwine itself with hers.Feet beginning to move,he manoeuvred her out of the club.The ear damaging music slowly died down,the two standing at the entrance.
It was a quite night…contrary to the club.Her eyes scanned the man who had just dragged her out.His brown curls,the white shirt that he adorned along with ripped jeans.Her eyes had then averted to the city lights ; shining in their upmost glory.Lighting up the way for them.
“What were you saying just now?” she asked curiously,eager to hear him now that they were away from the crowd.Lando scratched his neck,his hand that was intertwined with hers untangling itself.
“You…you did a good job in the race.” he hummed softly.She perked an eyebrow as a small grin formed itself on her face,her eyes glinting with mischief.
“Don’t worry — I actually heard you the first time.” she snapped back,biting her lip to hold back another chuckle.His eyes were admiring the view in front of them.Bahrain never failed to amaze him.
“Just remember,I won’t let you by that easily next time.” he promised himself,hands sliding its way into his pockets as he stared at her.
“I’d want nothing but your best,Norris.”
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blondwhowrites · 4 days
Note
Tom would have you under the Iegilimacy curse and imperio curse from the start of your relationship
He cant risk it!from the second you defy him or god forbid you argue with him,hes drawing his wand from his robes and casting the legilimacy curse at you,making you his pretty,compliant doll.But thats not enough for the mysterious sadist,as he needs full control over you.Thats why he spells you with imperio.A few weeks after you begin to date him,youre a different person.More reserved,all wayslooking at Tom if someone asks you a question,always draped around his arn but although you see to lose all personality,your grades are perfect.Because how could he let his girl have such horrid marks?you need him!
He also reads your mind.Every day.He did it since he took an interest to you,but now its useless because he basically owns you.
But its ok,he's hot!
IDGAF if wandless magic isn't canon IT IS TO ME also don't worry you guys are gonna get a lot more of Tom controlling Dearest
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If there was one thing Tom Riddle knew, it was the mind—a fascinating thing that not even the best of wizards could fully understand throughout the ages. It was, in its own way, beautiful. From an early age, he knew he had a gift, and it wasn't until Hogwarts that he realized the extent of it. From the countless books he read on the subject, the ability to read one's mind came naturally to him. And it had come to be useful in his endeavors, especially when it came to you. 
You—his dearest—and while Tom long since accepted he would never be capable of love, what he felt for you was close enough for him. He guessed most would say what he felt for you was obsession, a type of twisted love that consumed his whole being until there was nothing left but the thought of your, soft, fleeting touch on his skin.
"Dearest, we've talked about this," he watched in disinterest as you paced around the room, all pent up from a comment made earlier by one of your pathetic friends. Your thoughts were loud, practically screaming into his mind.
"But Tiffany has a point, Tom. You're controlling." 
You paused and stared at him, thrusting out your arms and waving them dramatically to accentuate your point, to which he scoffed and rolled his eyes.
Tom rose from his chair and stalked towards you, and your instincts screamed at you to cower away from him. Putting on a brave face, you stood your ground, and tilted your head up—he was way too tall.
You were determined today, huh? Two can play at that game.
"I'm not controlling, dearest. I just don't want you to get hurt by anyone, whether it be emotional or physical. I get worried." 
Your thoughts echoed throughout his mind, telling him how easily you were to believe his words. It was cute how open your mind was to his manipulation, like a lamb being unknowingly led to its slaughter. "I- I know but it gets suffocating having to deal with you whenever I want to go out."
He placed his hands on both of your shoulders, and sighed when he watched you flinch. You were always so reactant to his touch. Your voice had gotten weaker, and your gaze fell to the floor. Intimidation had always been a strong suit of his. "Now I'm going to need you to listen to me very carefully, dearest." He leaned down, and pressed a feather light kiss to the shell or your ear before whispering.
"imperio"
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imaslutforwritingshit · 9 months
Text
Edward Cullen Imagine (XF!READER)
PART TWO
Warnings- smut, p in v, cunnilingus, faint jealousy (Jacob), passionate (lovey) sex
P.S I’ve actually never made smut where the characters actually loved each other😭 it’s mostly just desire. So this is actually kinda well written , just a foreword to the poetic shit she says.
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Read PART ONE here ;)
I didn’t understand what he meant when he said that. I didn’t understand, until his cold fingers snakes down the bones of my hips, and he covered me with his strong body, like the crevices in my pelvic bone were made solely for his hands.
“You,” Edward strained, his voice gravely, unlike the normal smooth charisma he embodied. As he spoke in my ear, he pushed my shorts down with his thumbs, the cheeky underwear I had picked out this morning on a whim now on full display to him.
When Edward let his fingers graze the shape of my ass, his hand wavered on my skin, like every movement was delicate- and yet something he couldn’t contain. “You are making me lose myself. The way you sound, look, smell,” Edward inhaled sharply, grinding his hard cock across the sheer fabric of my underwear. The feeling sent shivers and tingles down the nerves of my stomach.
I wanted more. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I wanted this. His voice was amplifying my desire for him, each rough syllable a new jolt of electricity through my body.
Edward groaned as my panties rose up, his dick deeper in the planes of my ass. I could practically feel the veins of his body sliding on the skin of my ass cheeks.
He finished his sentence in a husky tone, each word getting harder for him to speak. “You make me want to do horrible things, Calypso. I want to be selfish with you. To you.” The lowness of his voice, if I didn’t know him as my boyfriend, would be straight up deadly- and terrifying.
My heart melted at the thought of Edward getting what he wanted, a strange mixture of lustful hormones and admiration for the words. Everything Edward has always been was good, and gentleman-like, and selfless.
So, yeah. I want him to be selfish. I want him to have what he wants, just for this evening.
I arched my back, pressing my entire ass against his erection. “I need you to be selfish, Edward. I want to see you lose control.”
Edward stopped moving for a second, breathing heavily over my body. I could feel his cock twitching on my underwear, and I bucked my hips backwards, urging him to keep going. He stopped my movement with a rough push on my hips, bringing my entire body to the cushion.
“Callie, Callie. I will never lose control.” he felt my body up, each grope electrifying my senses. “I desire ruining you. My body begs to. The amount of times I fantasized of killing you when I met you…You drive me insane, beautiful.” He paused, and I could almost feel a smile on his face. “But I’m not a dog. I wouldn’t eat you alive the first chance I get, for my own filthy benefit.” Edward bit his lip, tilting his head in a dangerously playful motion. “Unless, of course, you would prefer that. Canines?”
Realization dawned on me. Jacob. He was mocking me about Jacob. Where was this coming from?
“Edward, I don’t care about him. I want you.”
Edward draped his head by mine, the graceful stands of his hair falling on my cheek. “I don’t know why you enjoy that so much, Calypso. The thought of being weak. Under Jacob’s ruthless control.”
The words were true, but still irritating. I could only assume this fire of emotion was coming from his episode of lust, but my body was getting too many mixed emotions to understand how to feel about it.
Edward thumbed my panties now, sliding the strings down in a slow, taunting manner. “I know that animal would love to see you like that. Begging.” He snarled quietly at that, and took a quick breath as my underwear slid off my ass. “To see you asking him, pleading him to take control from you.”
I whimpered, a strange thrill coming from the anger in his voice. He was jealous- because he wanted me.
Maybe I’m sick for that having fueled my desire more.
But then again, maybe I’m sick for loving a vampire.
He kissed my shoulder blade, a soft contrast to the hardness of his words. “I’ve thought about tasting you for a long time.”
My blood.
A strange, unusual spike of fear entered my heart.
This was Edward. But he’s different now- fueled by emotions, unpredictable.
Is he gonna hurt me?
Edward kissed the small of my back, dragging his hands to my waist.
“I’ve thought about tasting you, Calypso. I just never said how.”
Edward grabbed my side, rolling me to be on my back. I stared at his eyes, animalistic and wild, blending in with the dark of the forest behind him.
“Spread your legs, my dove.”
My heart was pounding so fast, I could feel the pulse all over my body. Specifically throbbing in the area between my thighs, which I spread out per his orders.
Edward sucked in a breath in his teeth, the fangs in his mouth sticking out in a predatory manner. Only staring at my naked body, like the very sight was granting him vitality. He didn’t drop his frighteningly focused stare, and instead leaned over me, kissing my thighs. Each touch was tipping me over, teasing me in a painful way.
I remember what Edward had told me a month ago.
“So the lion fell in love with the lamb.”
I was indeed, a stupid lamb.
He grazed the skin below my stomach with his lips, tracing the lines of my hips with a trail of burning kisses. I was practically rocking my hips, a silent beg for more.
Edward pushed his cold, comforting hands on my hips again, forcing me down.
God, I could live in this moment forever.
This is my life now. He is my life now. I can’t see anything farther than this.
This is my past, my present, my future all encapsulated in one small, fleeting moment.
Edward stared at me, with intense, hot eyes, dragging on my breasts, my hips, and the slow trail to my clit. It would embarrass me- the heavy eye contact, with anyone else.
But Edward’s not like anyone else.
So I kept my gaze on him, as he kept his eyes on me, and let his warm tongue heat the area between my folds. I shivered from his godlike touch, unable to tear my eyes from the beautiful scene of his mouth on my body. He grasped my thighs harder, tracing circles with the perfect pressure on my clit.
As if he couldn’t control the quick movement, he snaked his tongue down to my wet opening, rolling movements inside of me. I mewled, gripping the sheets with white knuckles. My toes were already curling from the very idea of him touching me like this.
Edward bite down a little harder on the top of my pussy, licking my body like I was his last meal. Every touch was strategic, but am I surprised? He had 104 years of experience.
Orgasm was rising to my surface too quickly. I grabbed his hair, increasing the screaming thoughts of my mind, hoping he’ll understand. But the desire took over him- and he began flicking his wet tongue more, causing me to jerk my head backwards, clasping my thighs over his head.
“Please, Edward.” My gasps were filling the empty space, all of his movements sickeningly perfect.
He let go of me, the warm tongue exiting my folds, and I clenched my thighs together harder as he kneeled over me, his breath ragged and heavy. His lips were sleek with my fluid, and I felt my ears go red.
He was looking at me like I was the most beautiful thing to exist. He watched me, so intense that I could cower from his breathtaking gaze. Edward pulled his shirt over his head, the pale, shimmering color of his skin mesmerizing me.
The sun was out. Fading over the large pine trees of Forks- as if the universe had some perfectly divine idea of the first connection of our bodies.
His eyes were light brown in the sunlight, the lines of his abs sparkling in the warm orange of the sun.
“I’m crazy about you.” My confession was soft, so soft I wasn’t sure he heard it.
Edward slowly shook his head, but all I could focus on was the color of his eyes. It was the only thing tethering me from heaven.
He was a fallen angel, looking at me like I was the cure to his sin.
“Calypso. You are my destruction.” His breath quickened, his lean chest rising and falling with the pace of my own.
Edward’s mouth met mine one more time, one more soft, passionate time. I grazed my fingers over the muscles of his back, memorizing every part of this moment. Solidifying it in my nimble, mortal mind.
He let the tip of his dick slide on my wet pussy, staring at me with lustful eyes, eyes waiting for confirmation.
I nodded, biting my lip in preparation.
Edward let his thick shaft slide in my cunt, and I yelped, clenching his thick shoulders.
It hurt. His dick was so big, I was hardly prepared for it. But Edward, with the last remaining piece of willpower he had, slowed his movements, his hard body meeting the spongey, untouched area inside of me.
He hissed, dropping his body on mine, and he grazed his fingers through my hair, each thrust getting more powerful.
With that, I realized something.
Edward is a vampire.
A vampire with exceeding amounts of supernatural strength, and… stamina.
He showed no signs of reaching climax as he warmed my body with his cock, each stroke inside of me causing pleasure to shoot to my stomach.
I could faintly hear my reaction- unreal, loud moans that I assume the deers of the forest could hear. I mewled as he slowed down, pushing his forearms into the cushion. Edward let out a soft groan, stroking my face with his thumb. He repositioned his position, pushing his dick back in, and reaching new lengths of pleasure in my insides. I moaned, shamelessly, letting my fingers dig into his back.
The warm ball of nerves were heating at my core, a sign that I was reaching climax. Edward’s mouth dropped to my collarbones, sucking sharp hickeys as he thrusted inside of me, each movement rolling my eyes back.
I whimpered, stammering from the euphoria shaking my legs. “I’m-close…”
Edward moaned, a sound so beautiful I could’ve just watched him now, an artist and a masterpiece. He ground his hips to mine, hissing with the feeling of his body completely in mine. I let my hands fall over my head, closing my eyes to try to preserve the orgasm rising in my gut.
“No.” Edward’s voice was strained, the softness of his movements gone. Each thrust inside of me was hard, rough, matching his untainted desire. “Don’t close your eyes. I need to see you.”
I need to see you.
How could I love someone so much it hurt?
I opened my eyes weakly, meeting the heavy lidded, black pits of Edward’s. His abs clenched as he pushed inside of me, his hips bucking with a renounced speed. I gasped at the feeling of his dick hitting my cervix, trying to focus on his face, overwhelmed with pleasure.
“Please,” I begged one more time, the need for my climax forcing my legs to shake on his.
Edward managed a smile, and dropped his body again, fully covering mine. He rocked into me, and I whimpered in his ear, letting my hands drop over his neck.
Nothing has ever felt this good. Nothing will ever feel this good.
Edward groaned, the thrusts getting so hard it began to hurt again, with a strange, overwhelming pleasure that came with the pain.
“Callie…” His voice was soft for the jerk of his hips, a warm sensation rolling over my body.
“Edward!” I squirmed, peak taking over my nerves.
“I know, love.” Edward’s breaths were fast in my ear, the jerk of his hips creating the sounds of skin slapping throughout the room. He let a heavy groan slip from his lips, and I felt the leak of precum making the inside of my pussy even more liquid.
“I’m going to-” Edward’s voice was nothing more then a raspy groan in my ear.
“Please, please!” I whimpered again, clenching my legs around his abdomen to avoid the painful desire of climax. He had edged me on for so long, I don’t think I could’ve waited anymore.
Edward’s movements turned hard, fast, a ripple of sensation arousing my body again. He growled, our skin smacking together with new volume, and orgasm blinded my vision, making me roll my eyes back, and arch my back until my clit touched the root of his cock. I screamed, scraping my nails on his back until I could’ve been sure there was blood.
Edward didn’t protest; in fact, he thrust harder with that, each movement causing him to heave breaths, the warm air hitting my ear. He moaned, a vibration in the mess of my hair, and quickly pulled his warm, wet body from my own, shooting strings of hot white on the base of my stomach, dripping down my sensitive cunt.
Edward rolled off of me slowly, collapsing on the small couch, both of our bodies reeling the affects of the tiresome fuck. I attempted to catch my breath, feeling my heart beating so fast I couldn’t hear the birds chirping anymore. Hesitantly, I turned my body to meet his, but Edward was already staring at me, the warmth of his expression a relief to me. He bit his lip, his chest rising the similar pattern mine was.
I processed everything, opening my mouth to speak, but not understanding how to phrase it.
“Edward?”
He smiled, the soft, mesmerizing action in my peripheral. “Yes?” The melody of his voice still left me catching my breath.
I couldn’t say the words. They rung in my mind, an untamable message dancing through my heart.
Three words.
I love you.
Edward let his eyes fall on mine, hearing the silent plea of my mind.
“I love you too, Callie.” His mouth was parted, and his lips were red from before, and he read my mind and read those words. I couldn’t help it when I draped over his body, kissing him like it was the first time all over again.
He snaked his arms over my bare body, his smooth knuckles tickling my spine. His lips draped over mine as if we were two puzzle pieces, separated for too long, and now here, and alive, and in love.
I loved Edward Cullen. I had the very first day I met him. And even if I die a mortal, holding the hand of the boy who will exist forever, I know I’ll live until the day he ceases to.
I’ll live in Edward’s heart,
And he’ll live in mine.
Because that’s what love is, right? A taste of forever.
And we were forever.
Okay that’s it byeeee
I am super open to constructive criticism and feedback, as well as recs. Thanks for reading ! :> <333
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ishaslife · 9 months
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Astarion has been breaking my poor heart.
This post will contain spoilers for the game and Astarion's romance/backstory. Before anyone comes at me, I want to say that you are the main character, you are supposed to change the fates and behaviours of your characters, especially if you are romancing them. It's a video game, that's kind of the point.
This post is extremely long and I apologise.
This analysis is based off my playthrough.
(*) means check notes at the bottom of the post.
I wasn't expecting to like him as much as I do. Don't get me wrong, I really liked him during EA and I thought he was funny, charming, flirty with a dark past and all that was just a means to cover his trauma but since the full game has come out and we've gotten to know more of him, it truly breaks my heart to see and know what he has been through. My sister and I were watching his reactions to be being rejected, being told that Tav only wants sex and forcing him to do things he doesn't want to do, it is truly heart-wrenching.
Many people expected Astarion to be this "I am so sexual and my romance will mostly be sex, also I will betray you the first chance I get." and it couldn't be further from the truth. Astarion is extremely loyal, and yes he has that air of flambouncy to him, will often make japes and say evil things but most of the time, it is just a facade. It's his shield in a way, he has been treated with utter cruelty for two hundred years of his life and now that he finally has some control over himself, he doesn't wish to be hurt again.
I don't think Astarion is ever completely evil, even in the beginning. He just wants to have fun and enjoy life after so many years of slavery. He likes it when you are snarky, say mean shit to people for fun but, he doesn't like to see innocents get hurt, and he doesn't support fighting for people who don't fight for themselves. Yes, he will support some of your evil decisions but they will lead to a bad ending, for you and your characters. It'll make Astarion wallow more in his greed and he'll lose the little humanity he has left. He doesn't really have a clear sense of direction in the beginning of the game as he's just found freedom and obviously wants to live life to the fullest, being evil comes naturally to him, it's instinct as its what he's been doing for two centuries.
This is my assumption since we don't know his actual age but since he's an elf who was well-respected in society, had a pretty prestigious job and was rich enough to be corrupt. I'd assume he was at least 70-100 years old before he was turned into a spawn. (EDIT - in a recent post by @deluxetrashqueen I saw the translation of the dates of birth and death on his tombstone:
"Astarion Ancunin
229-268 DR" to which he adds, "458DR - "
which shows that he was only 39 at the time of his death, which explains his emotional immaturity for an elf.) My point being, I believe he has been a spawn for longer than he's ever been a regular person. He has spent the longer part of his life doing evil things for an evil man, that was what his life was on a daily basis with Cazador. And his former work experience probably helped, he likely learnt pretty quick how much he took for granted as a living person and the harshness of his master, peers and people he seduced made him harsh and unforgiving in return.
Once you start getting close to him, you start to learn that he is only mean to people because of how life has treated him. In his romance, he says "no one ever looked out for me, no one ever said a kind word to me. You're the only one, no one is like that." Astarion starts to see, because of you that there is kindness in the world, and he finds kindness in you. Especially after his quest, as much as he'd hate to admit it, he also sees friends in your other companions as they do in him. By the end of Act 2, he starts to get more soft towards you and the decisions you make, often even disapproving of evil decisions. People often tend to forget that a lot of Astarion's evil personality is a front, it is not who he truly is.
These points will be better explained individually so I will talk about some themes.
Power: power plays a big part in his entire storyline. In the beginning, he wants to harness the powers of the tadpole to become powerful and at first, you think that it's simply because he's an evil character and he wants power for the sake of having it. Then later, he wishes to take over the power of the ascendant but mostly only to spite Cazador and take something important from him, not fully realising the true power of the rite.
As he slowly starts opening up to you, he tells you "the mind flayers tore me from that place" and you realise that its the tadpole that let's him walk in the sun, do things a vampire or spawn would never be able to, you learn that he hates being a vampire because he can't even remember what he looks like. He seeks power outside because he has had no power over himself for about two centuries, he thinks that having this power will fulfill his needs but it won't, we know it won't because in truth he only needs to reclaim his autonomy, physical and mental. Of course Astarion would never truly admit to this for a long while, even when he's romanced. I personally really love his good romance arc where he doesn't have sex with you, not because he dislikes you or doesn't want you but because, as he says "any kind of intimacy was something I performed to lure people back for him. While I know things between us are different... being with someone still feels tainted. It brings up all those feelings of disgust and loathing." He has spent 200 years or so bowing to Cazador's whims, done things to people he didn't want to do and I assume since it's heavily hinted at, were very sexual in nature. In a relationship, he simply wants to be seen as a person and I think that's really sad because that's how low the bar is for him.
In the ending of his quest, you can persuade him and tell him that going forth with the ritual won't set him free even if he thinks it will and I agree. If he's a slave to Cazador now, later he'd be a slave to power and greed. Just look at Cazador, despite being one of the most powerful beings in existence, he still wanted more power. That kind of greed and hunger never ends and Astarion would lose himself and who he has become while he was with us. Yes, it makes him walk in the sun again and do things a regular vampire can't but at what cost? 7,000 lives and his humanity. He would never be able to enjoy this "freedom" because he'll only strive to seek more power. In his ascendant ending, he becomes everything he's ever hated about Cazador, the cycle repeats itself, from Vellioth to Cazador and from Cazador to Astarion. And it will never end. Astarion even refuses to turn you into a vampire and wishes to keep you only as a spawn. With an insight check, you can learn that he thinks you're degrading yourself and he doesn't care. He now sees you as something to own, something to possess, not love. All his good qualities, wants and needs get twisted. Astarion truly only needs to feel like a person again but he doesn't fully realise this until you show it to him, through good deeds and actions, through simple acts of kindness. As he says in his "good" ending "I've been dead in the ground enough. It's time to try living again. With all that life has to offer."
Safety: Astarion wants to feel safe. He is so scared of being found by Cazador, he knows he's looking for him and the only thing giving him some form of safety from Cazador is the tadpole so of course he wants to harness its powers that is until he finds out it'll turn him into another kind of monster, a mind flayer. He doesn't wish to lose himself and his freedom again hence is vehemently against taking on the tadpole's powers but he doesn't stop you because that is of course, your decision to make. He says "if such power would please you, darling, I won't stop you. But do be careful, I want you to remain you." Now the only thing left that can properly give him his freedom is Cazador's death and he wants to kill him himself which I think is perfectly acceptable, Cazador deserves to die and if it is by Astarion's hands, all the better. But, in his romance, he makes it clear that he's doing it for safety, and he tells himself that he wants to take the power of the rite for safety as well because in truth, he is terrified of being powerless again. He does want revenge yes, but he also wants to keep you and himself safe from Cazador, even in the dungeon, if you run an insight check, the narrator tells you that he is losing his mind because of the power that's on offer and the smell of blood in the air. It's almost as if to say "he's losing his mind, please stop him before he forgets who he is." Astarion NEEDS your guidance*, eventually he even thanks you for 'saving him from himself.' In his good ending, he sees that in taking the power, he would be no better than Cazador and would become everything he's ever hated about him, and inflict on others what his former master inflicted on him, starting with you. His ascendant ending is honestly a very sad ending for his character, all that growth, change and development you bring to him throughout your journey just gone down the drain as he becomes an unfeeling, evil, narcissistic arsehole who only craves for more power. In his good ending, he will be safe, with you and with the friends he has made along the way. He is proud of himself and so is everyone else, it offers him a kind of friendship that's afforded to very few in the D&D world, especially a vampire/spawn whose very existence is hated. It is a bond based on trust, loyalty and to a degree, even love instead of fear like in the ascendant ending.
Abandonment and Fear: Astarion is driven by fear but he also knows facing Cazador is inevitable and something he needs to face rather than avoid. Even if he isn't outright seeking it (but he does seek it) I think he is braver than he likes to think and he definitely has some anti-hero traits. He likes the tadpole because it helped him get away from Cazador's authority and he enjoys bending others to his will since it makes him feel more powerful compared to how he's felt the past two centuries. But if you choose to not do the same, he doesn't really care. He doesn't except it of you nor is he disappointed (since he neither approves or disapproves. He only disapproves helping people who didn't ask or didn't want to be helped) he only gives a snarky comment or two about what he would've done instead and follows you anyway. He realises you're a good person. If you indulge too much however, I would argue that he agrees simply because he doesn't want you to turn against him. Perhaps he believes that you can turn on him and kill him as easily as you killed the tieflings or other innocents. He probably thinks it's easier to turn a good person evil than an evil person, good (tbh he wouldn't be entirely wrong.) And making bad choices does negatively affect his character of course but I just thought I'd put that out there as I think it's very likely for him to do so. He is definitely extremely paranoid, he hardly ever says how he truly feels out loud but when you break up with him (it's so heartbreaking omg) he says "I was beginning to think someone truly wanted me. I shouldn't have deluded myself." and "From the start, I was rather counting the hours until it was going to end. Midnight chimes, eh?" As heartbreaking as it is, the latter line shows how terrified he was of being abandoned or only be used for his body, he kept obessesively worrying that Tav would leave him after he bore his heart out to them. There's another bit of dialogue in Act 1 where he is trying his lines with you to get you to sleep with him a second time and you can say no which he is fine with but if you outright reject him there, meaning "I never want to see you like that again" he gets extremely sad: "Well, excuse me while I die of a broken heart. [slight chuckle] In all honesty, it's a shame. That time was special to me. I've gotten on my back 10,000 times or more and forgotten half of them. But you, I'll remember. [long pause] Have a fine evening... dear." Mind you, this is after you've only slept with him once. His dialogue makes it seem like he was already catching feelings for you, and not realising that himself until this happens. Seeing this made me realise that you're the first person he's slept with of his own volition, even if it was to seduce you. For the longest time, I think Astarion doesn't even want to believe you'll like him as something more than someone to sleep with, he hopes you might as his rejection line says so but astarion is nothing if not careful and well, paranoid.
That's why he's so shocked when you choose to not let him bite Araj at Moonrise even if it gave you something powerful in return. He sees that you chose his comfort over a genuinely useful commodity. Biting people or using his vampire, well, anything makes him extremely uncomfortable since it reminds him of things he needed to do for Cazador. If he bites her, it makes him feel like being a slave again, but bending to your will and wishes instead of his former master's. He realises he doesn't know how to say no. Which is another thing he says if you wish to pursue only a sexual relationship with him. He feels played.
Freedom: this is probably the main theme to his character arc. He wants to be free, not only from his master but also free to make right decisions and make decisions for himself, something he hasn't been able to do for years. This is why respecting his decision to not sleep with you is important to him, he doesn't feel comfortable being physically close to someone in a sexual way as it makes him doubt the person's true intentions and feelings and of course, makes him feel loathsome and disgusted with himself. He needs that time where you just connect as people to really see that you are in fact genuine and he wouldn't be hurt if he trusted you or gave you his heart. Towards the end of the game, he is still quite ruthless, but mostly only towards people who do wrong and are criminals. Astarion has a very strong set of ideals, he believes that people who do wrong deserve to die no matter the crime. I don't think this is entirely true, every crime deserves a different punishment but most criminals, those who do severe wrong and still get away with it, do deserve to die but this is just my opinion of course. He is ruthless towards bad people because that's how people have been to him, at least Cazador and I wouldn't be surprised if he was treated badly during his sexual encounters with strangers while working for him.
Why I think the Ascendant ending is a tragic ending for Astarion's character and for you.
I won't lie, there are some aspects of ascended Astarion that are pretty hot and I'm a sucker for (pun absolutely intended) powerful, gothic vampires but this ending comes at the cost of way too much. One simply being: Astarion isn't Astarion anymore. All his snarkiness, playful nature and strange innocence is gone. In his ascendant ending, that is, when he takes the power of the Rite of Ascension for himself by carving the same rune on Cazador's back that's on his own, Astarion loses himself. In D&D lore, full vampires are unfeeling, ruthless and have all their good traits twisted into something more malignant and evil. If Astarion loved you, that love turns into possession, if he cared for you, it turns into obsession. He doesn't truly care anymore... as a vampire, he is manipulating you and telling you things you want to hear instead of what he's actually feeling. He never truly got that moment of catharsis by killing Cazador as he does in his spawn ending. That simple bliss of killing the man that enslaved him and worse all these years; he never gets to experience that because he ends up using Cazador for the same power Cazador killed Vellioth for in the past, albeit worse. It's a never-ending cycle. And if he turns you into his spawn, you will go through the same fate Astarion went through and probably turn on him the same way he turned on Cazador. He has absolutely no sympathy for you or for anyone that is not him, in fact he feels almost disgusted by you because he thinks you're degrading yourself in front of him. There is a conversation between him and if you refuse to become his spawn, and I think it sums up his character perfectly as a vampire, it goes like this:
(choosing different options will have different dialogues but they more or less lead to him saying the same thing.)
ASTARION: Just so you know, I have everything I've ever wanted. Everything lies ahead. I can see my path to a waking dream. From the Crimson Palace, I will govern day and night. Create a city of spawn who bow before me, cast a fog over the world for my children.
TAV: But the Palace halls will be lonely.
ASTARION: You'll be lonelier than I. Very soon I will discover how to call my legions of wolves, become a sea of mist, run wrongside-up on roofs. [laughs] Everything vampires do best.
You could have, too. [sniggers] What a waste.
TAV: You don't really have anything at all.
ASTARION: I can take anything I want. I should've made you a spawn just to teach you that.
And there we have it, that last bit of dialogue shows how Astarion is now everything he hated about his own master. He is Cazador's literal and spiritual successor, he thinks you need to be punished for rejecting him. He doesn't feel for you anymore, at least not in a human way. He has become someone else entirely, for the worst. His drive for taking the power of the rite was to be able to walk in the sun again but as a full vampire, he wants to "dominate it (the world) until the sun melts and give ourselves over to the night."
Astarion NEEDS change, he needs to see that the world can be a kinder place than the one he's lived in this whole time. Just a bit of care and love with him goes a long way. In his spawn ending, he comes to realise that you gave him his life back even if it was as a spawn because that is true freedom. He is free from his master, and greed & power which was in the disguise of safety. He may never be able to walk in the sun, but he is free to make his own decisions that are driven by his choices. One of them being; wanting and loving you, living a full life with you, whatever that may entail.
If you went into the game thinking that Astarion will betray you no matter what then giving him the ascendant ending brings your fears to life. Astarion doesn't learn anything, by making him a full vampire, you basically tell him that he can only be powerful and worth something if he has super vampire powers, and in turn, you lose everything too. Astarion may have gained unparralled strength but now he has no need of you, you gave him everything he wanted and nothing he needed so now he can do whatever he wants with you because you are lesser than him, literally, he is much stronger than you are and his power will only grow as he discovers more of it. He tries to manipulate you into turning you into a spawn. A dialogue being:
TAV: After everything you went through with Cazador, you're going to make me a spawn?
ASTARION: Oh that was completely different, I'd never hurt you. I love you. That's what you've been waiting to hear, isn't it? That's what you want?
Which just shows you how he's only saying "I love you" because that's what you want to hear, so you agree to becoming his spawn. He doesn't mean it, it doesn't really have any feeling behind it whatsoever. And if he turns you into a spawn, you have basically lost everything. Because he is obsessive over you, he'll never let you go and since now he is properly evil, he likely won't turn you into a vampire either, even if he says he will.
This is just my take on the ending though, I think we can all agree the ascendant ending is the evil ending for his character, even if it is an ending you prefer. I'm not trying to hate on anyone who does like this ending, only stating that I think it is meant to be evil and I personally don't like it.
CONCLUSION
Once you get to truly know Astarion, he's a pretty decent guy. I can't speak much for people who didn't romance him, I'm not entirely sure how his non-romance route plays out. The good conclusion of his quest is so wholesome, where he says he feels "truly, honestly free" and tells you "you saved me from myself. This is a gift, you know, thank you. I won't forget it." getting full circle to the first time you let him bite you (the only time in my case.) It shows so much character development and pure joy in the way he thanks you (it doesn't need to be said but props to Neil Newbon for bringing the character to life.) He will always be a spawn and yet, he feels like "anything and everything is possible" because of you and the choices you made with him, you believed in him when he didn't believe in himself, you showed him that he is enough just the way he is and he doesn't need to become a full vampire to be strong and powerful. Astarion comes out of his finale, a much more positive person, who actually cares even if he won't show it and the best part is, he always keeps that tiny streak of evil and mischief within him. He hasn't lost sight of himself, he's just less spiteful now and feels free to actually enjoy life rather than constantly being scared of what might happen to him. He finds trust and happiness in you and it makes him happy that you find the same within him. You are his home and he hopes he is yours.
I understand that my analysis may not be perfect and my interpretation of the character may be different from someone else's but that's fine, he is a video game character that can be played so many ways and people can go around it however they like, interpret his character however they wish. This is just what I think.
NOTES
'Astarion needs your guidance.' - no, this is not gaslight-y. Astarion is a deeply troubled character and clearly finds it hard to differentiate between right and wrong. He often asks for your input and what you think by Act 2 which isn't a bad thing, he's asking for help and I think that shows how far he's come. In the final scene of his quest, he is overcome by the promise of power and the safety it would've provided which would've consumed him as it did Cazador, Astarion admits to this himself too later on once he can think clearly and is in a more positive mindset. There is nothing wrong with guiding your partner towards something that will eventually be better for their growth as a person in the long run.
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maladaptiveobsession · 3 months
Text
yandere vox headcanons
contains: emotional manipulation, brief dubcon mention, brief hypnosis mention, overprotective behavior, stalking
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yandere vox
who is condescending and manipulative; he knows what’s best for you, just obey him without question. choosing to be stubborn? don’t be so quick to forget that he is also a man who could destroy everything you’ve worked for with a snap of his fingers. you’ll remember who you belong to once he’s taken it all. no need to chase after you; you’ll crawl back to him when all is said and done.
who demands your full attention; even amongst a crowd, you should have eyes and ears solely for him. your thoughts should be encompassed by him. every action you take should be made with him in mind.
who is obsessively controlling; every aspect of your life is monitored by him. what you wear, what you eat, and even what time you go to bed. you’ll find yourself compelled to listen to his “advice” and “suggestions”. he only wants the best for you right? you can trust him! by the time you notice how much control he has over your life, it’s far too late. rebel if you’d like, just note that he’s not above hypnotizing you if you prove to be difficult. you can’t blame him for wanting to protect you.
who monitors your every move, never letting you out of his sight. he has eyes everywhere, yet they only search for you. there isn’t a place in hell where you can hide from him. don’t bother running either, he’ll have you crawling back to him in no time. as the tv demon, it’s only natural that he’d observe you before properly introducing himself. before then, he’ll have studied everything about you. from your music preferences and unique quirks to you online history and darkest secrets you thought you’d take to the grave; your entire world is on display for him.
who clings to you; hovering over your shoulder, a hand lingering on the small of your back, sitting so close that his thighs press against yours—all subtle displays of his possessive. as time moves forward and you find yourself with less and less freedoms, you’ll likely brush off his increasingly daring touches, like how tightly he grips the fat of your thigh when you smile at someone other than him. when he finally has you, don’t be alarmed if his hands wander in private. he’s done so much for you, the least you could do is to look pretty for him while he rearranges your guts.
who is jealous and petty; sharply inhaling if you so much as greet someone other than him. he’s not usually one to share, this trait manifesting in the form of convincing you to distance yourself from your friends. they’re bad influences and he's looking out for you! don’t you trust him?
who’s selfish; fully aware he’s hurting you, but unwilling to stop. you’ll get over yourself in time. regardless, you don’t have to love him back, you just have to be his.
who will never hit you. he has no need to, not when your emotions are to easy to exploit. he never wants you to feel the way valentino makes him feel—used, unappreciated, fearful
who genuinely cares about you. he truly does want the best for you, even at the cost of losing your affections. vox will do anything to keep you safe and happy, except for letting you go. he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you by his side. you can only push him so far before he does something more drastic.
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ramp-it-up · 8 months
Text
Greatest
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Pairing: Pilot!Steve Rogers x Publicist! Reader
Summary: Steve tells you the truth.
This is the next part in the Greatest series.
A/N: This is not as kinky as I promised. I had to cut this in two because I'm in the mood for love, so this has plot with the porn. Hope you like it anyway! #KinktoberMaybe
Warnings: 18+ ONLY Minors, DNI. Enemies to Lovers, and there was only one bed, fast start to slow burn, idiots in love, angst, secrets, sexual frustration, good girl kink, public sex acts, manual sex, teasing, edging, Captain kink, praise/degradation kink, dirty talk, graphic sloppy oral. Not Beta’d. All errors are on me.
Notice: I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.
DO NOT COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK.
——
Steve glared at Bucky, silently daring him to say it. He had the urge to punch something and Bucky’s mug was very convenient at the moment. 
The only thing holding him back was the fact that Bucky was 100% correct.
“Let me get this straight. You had her. Or she had you rather, in the palm of her hand. And you left her there to take a shower and let her walk out the door?”
Steve thought back to what he was thinking when he made that decision. He realized that he wasn’t thinking, but panicking. He didn’t want the rush of hormones and emotions that flooded him after your beautiful mouth made him lose control. So he retreated to the shower, hoping and praying that you would follow him, and absolve him of having to make the decision.
All he needed was that one overture from you to make rushing forward with you before having a proper conversation.
But your pride was stronger than the physical need you had, and when you walked in the bathroom, you just fixed your face and reapplied your lipgloss, smoothing your dress down your body and looking at your ass in the full length mirror before you gave the shower a side eye when you walked out the door.
“None of it was supposed to happen… it wasn’t supposed to happen at all. I wanted to talk to her first. Before we… But she is so… I just wanted to do it right…”
Bucky shook his head. 
“You missed your chance at that, Punk. You could have told her on your date…or when we landed…or in the room, before you did disrespectful things to her.”
“Shut your trap, Jerk.”
Steve looked around the bar as people walked by. He sometimes regretted that he told Bucky everything. 
“... or at breakfast, before she sucked out what little brain cells you have…”
Steve downed his drink as he listened to his friend accurately recount his failures.
“Hey.”
Steve looked up into his best friend’s eyes.
“It’s not too late. The problem is that you riled her up and left her hanging. You better find her before one of these insanely handsome Italian men do.”
“Shit.”
Bucky chuckled as he watched Steve hurry out of the hotel and into the streets of the fishing village. He had to find you and tell you the truth.
—-
You loved your little sister, but she was being a monumental pain in the ass.
Hey, Sissy!
Just want to let you know that Topher and I and the rest of the peeps (except Steve of course) are going to Paris! D invited us!
I’ll send you lots of pics to post. The most romantic place on earth, eek! Enjoy the yacht ride and the accommodations. We’ll pick you up at the end of the week.
Go easy on Steve, don’t hurt him! ;)
You saw the message twenty minutes after Aria sent it, and she wasn’t picking up your calls. 
Now you were trapped in Italy with the asshole who liked to play mind games.
Great.
You looked over at the tall dark handsome stranger who was looking at you from the cafe across the street. You smiled as you realized that Steve Rogers wasn’t the only game in town.
Steve’s morning was spent searching high and low in Riomaggiore. But it was Bucky’s text that sent him flying back to the room.
Gonna take Aria and crew to Paris for the rest of the week. Don’t ask.
I can handle the two hour flight. You concentrate on Y/N, Aria wants you two to have alone time.
I gotta tell you though, Sharon thought she saw her with an Italian dude, btw…
Steve was shook when he found that you had cleaned out your stuff from the room that you were forced to share. 
He had no idea where you were.
—--
Hours later, you were enjoying coffee at a different cafe, alone. Luca was indeed handsome, and charming. But you weren’t quite feeling him like you wanted to. He showed you some sights, but after spending a wonderful afternoon with him, you decided you needed time to get out of your head.
So you went and got your things and transferred them to Aria’s suite. It was much more spacious than the room you’d shared with Steve. He deserved space from the horrible bitch who’d ruined his trip.
The best thing to do was to give him some space on his unintended vacation. You were a big girl. You could take care of yourself. And you needed some down time from taking care of everyone else. You would go to activities planned for Aria and Topher this week, get social media content, post it later, and make it seem as if her honeymoon was twice as long as it was. 
It was win-win.
So why did it feel as if you’d lost something?
You looked down into your cup of coffee as if you could read your future there and you heard a familiar voice.
“There you are!”
You looked up into the cerulean eyes of Steve Rogers.
You stared as he started talking.
“Listen. I know I fucked up. But let me explain.”
You scowled at him.
“Do all asshole men have the same script or something? That is one of the most basic sentences ever.”
You got out your wallet and put some euros, gathered your shopping bags and stood up.
“Y/N, I know I’m a basic bitch, but please hear me out.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at Steve’s attempt at the vernacular. But you kept walking out of the cafe. You knew he was following you, but you kept it moving to the corner as you stopped to hail a taxi.
Steve was anxious, but he wasn’t going to let you out of his sight again. 
“I’ve rented a Vespa. I can give you a ride.”
His deep voice so close was doing things to you, but you just gave him a side eye over your shoulder.
Steve gave you a side smile in response and motioned down the street to the small red machine. You squinted at it.
“Will you, me, and my bags fit on that little bitty thing?”
“We’ll make sure we fit.”
Steve leaned toward you and gabbed your bags from you, fingers brushing against yours, sparking electricity. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish as you chased your purchases. 
“You’re not the boss of me!”
Steve stopped abruptly and turned around, causing you to stop inches from him.
“You’re right. Do you want me to leave you alone? Or do you want an explanation.”
You huffed up at him, heart beating a mile a minute at the deep bass of his voice.
“What if I want both? I need… I need to know the reason and I need to think. You’re a fucking enigma!”
Steve smiled down at you.
“I know. And I apologize. You don’t deserve the mind games.”
You exhaled.
“Thank you for that.”
“So. Do you want to go back to… wherever you’re staying tonight and talk tomorrow, or go somewhere and talk tonight and I give you space after… or….”
You realized that Steve was hurt that you moved out of the room as you looked into his eyes.
“I moved into Aria’s suite. To give you some space…”
“I don’t want… I mean. I get it.”
Steve was looking down now.
“Let’s go talk. Still have the yacht booked for tomorrow, that would be a great time for me to think.”
You watched Steve’s adam’s apple bob as he thought of you in a swimsuit.
“Cool. Let’s go.”
Steve led you to the scooter and secured your bags on the back of the Vespa as you got your helmet on. He put his helmet on and looked back at you as you climbed on behind him.
You had to be careful to tuck your dress properly, and you could have sworn that Steve licked his lips as he watched you. You decided to ignore that as you settled in.
You held on to Steve’s slim waist as loosely as you could, but you ended up with your hands dangerously close to where your mouth was this morning. You tried not to think of it as you took in the scenery and zipped through the town. Steve seemed to know his way around.
You turned into a parking area.
“The Via dell'Amore?, really Steve?”
“It’s a beautiful view. I’m not trying to mess with your mind, Y/N.”
You were wary, but you followed his lead to the trail. You were blown away as you stepped on the pathway proper and you felt Steve’s heat close behind you. It was a narrow path.
“Amazing isn’t it?”
“It’s breathtaking!”
You looked back at Steve and he smiled when he saw your face. 
“I’m glad that you like it.”
You two started to walk, and you found out that Steve had been stationed at Pisa and that’s why he knew Cinque Terre so well. 
“I bet you brought a lot of girls up here.”
You didn’t know why you cared. But he was supposed to be explaining himself.
“Fewer than you’d think. There was one local girl, but I haven’t had many relationships.”
“Oh.” 
You bit your lip as you overthought.
“I would have thought that someone who looked like you would have people falling at your feet.”
“Really?” Steve appraised you. “I might say the same for you.”
You laughed.
“I’m not everyone’s type.
“And I’ve never been more grateful to be an individual.”
You shook your head.
“Look Steve, I am really sorry for how I acted on our date. It was so wrong of me to assume about your upbringing. I understand your need to get back at me…”
“Wait. Do you think that last night and this morning was about getting back at you?”
Steve had stopped and was looking into your eyes.
“Well…”
Steve put his hands on your arms and shook his head.
“That wasn’t what that was. Man, I am such an idiot. I need to explain.”
Steve spied a stone bench that overlooked the water and led you over to it.
“This is about my childhood. And yours. About us…”
“What are you talking about, Steve?”
“What do most people ask you about your background?”
You rolled your eyes.
“Most people ask me how I became Aria’s publicist.”
Aria starred in a Disney sitcom as a teen and her recording and acting career took off from there. There were plenty of sharks, but you knew the business. When you finished college, you made sure that she would never be exploited again.
“I figured, but what about you? You’re pretty talented yourself, right? You acted a bit when you were younger, didn’t you?”
You did a double take. Not many people knew that about you.
“You’ve been researching me, Captain Rogers?”
Steve’s stomach flipped when you called him that, but he answered you.
“Not exactly. Maybe. Sort of. I know things.”
Steve plowed ahead. You decided to play along.
“So… yeah. I was in Betcha By Golly Wow when I was 10-12 years old. I played young Vanessa.”
You thought back to the days when you were considered one of the most promising young actors on broadway. You even had a Tony nomination somewhere in storage. What a time that was in your life. Aria was a toddler and your parents were still alive. It was before you had to grow up so fast. You adored Aria, but back then you were able to do something you loved in the most glorious way. 
Your arms raised goosebumps as you looked into Steve’s eyes. Something was prickling your intuition.
Steve nodded at your response as though he knew what you were going to say.
“What was your favorite part about performing on Broadway?”
“Well….”  
You looked at him again, getting this strange feeling of deja vu. There was something about this exchange that was giving you the feels.
“My favorite part of being on a Broadway show was making people happy. I loved hearing the audience sing along and laugh at my lines. I used to love the finale because everyone in the audience always got on their feet and danced along.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” 
You were breathless now. It couldn’t be. You had to be crazy.
“And after the show, I used to meet as many people as possible. And talk to them. I was thrilled when they wanted my autograph and said that they wanted to come back to see the show again. It was such a privilege to make someone’s day.”
“D’you remember any of the people that you talked to?”
“There were some that stood out.”  
You were looking at Steve in a new light now. 
“...Like the time Audra McDonald came by. And Sheryl Lee Ralph. My heroes.”
“Are those the only ones you remember?”
“I loved when we did special matinees for schools. There was one time, when we were paid by the Stark Foundation to give personalized tours for boys from a group home who were interested in acting…”
“I bet that was a real treat for them.”
You squinted at Steve, trying to erase 20 years from his face.
“Yeah. I bet. But, as you probably know very well, 12 year old boys can be assholes. I was assigned this asswipe of a kid named Brock, and he demanded that I kiss him behind the kitchen set, he also tried to feel me up, and I slapped him.”
You shook your head at the memory. Then your brow furrowed and you looked back up at Steve.
“He started to manhandle me and I got scared, because he was so much bigger than me. He grabbed my arm and all of a sudden, this scrawny little kid named Grant…”
You cocked your head sideways at Steve, almost certain now. You continued.
“…This smallish kid named Grant jumped on his back from nowhere, and managed to distract him. Of course, Brock started to get him good, but I picked up a baseball bat from the stage props and together we got him to leave us alone. I ended up…”
Your voice trailed off as the emotion of that day came back. You couldn’t believe you had blocked this all out.
“Smallish?” Steve snorted. “He was a runt.” 
He smiled at you and your heart did a thing. 
“I’m guessing.”
You smiled and nodded. 
“Right.”
“And I bet that you took that Grant kid to your dressing room and cleaned him up. Because Brock tagged him in the nose pretty good.”
You looked at Steve’s beautifully crooked nose.
“You probably taught him the dance in the second act. Even the slow dance that the grown-ups did….”
Steve trailed off, lost in the moment so long ago.
That moment when you first stared into the same blue eyes that you were looking into now came back and took your breath away.
“Great guesses. And I bet you can also surmise that I was taller than him.”
You smiled softly as you remembered the way his hand trembled at your waist, but the boldness in the way he stared at you. You bit your lip as you remembered the innocent kiss on the cheek that you gave him as he left.
Steve was blushing now, looking down at his hands as he smiled at the memory.
“Yeah. He probably hadn’t had his growth spurt yet. But I bet that didn’t matter to him. You were probably… No definitely the most beautiful girl that kid had ever seen. And that kid never forgot that day. Or you. He probably never got over it.”
You two stared at each other for a long time it seemed. You broke the silence first.
“Steven Grant Rogers.”
Your eyes appreciated his body in a new light. 
“A growth spurt indeed.”
Steve flushed again.
“I wanted to tell you at dinner, but then…”
“I assumed shit and was rude as hell.”
“Yes…”
You scoffed as Steve laughed.
“…And I didn’t know how to tell you what I’ve wanted to since the day I found out you were Aria’s sister. The first time you stepped on the plane, you didn’t recognize me the way I recognized you. And I admit, I felt some kind of way.”
You cocked your head at him.
“You were salty? Why? You've been stalking me for 20 years and I ruined your chance to make you fall in love with me?”
You were joking but Steve didn’t laugh. 
“I’m not a stalker. But I really never forgot you. I did move on. Bucky and I enlisted together and I had other relationships. But there was this ideal girl in my head that no one could ever live up to. I gave up on finding the one, because I thought the one was somewhere out there that I would never reach. And then you walked on my plane and…”
“Wait. Your plane?”
“Well.. yeah. Bucky and I own two jets, and we lease them.”
“Oh. Topher presented it as if he owned it.”
Steve rolled his eyes. 
“Anyway. Here you were. And you virtually ignored me. And then I managed to get a date with you and you were…”
“An asshole. I know.”
“Just.. not the same girl I had in my head.”
“Oh. So you’re disappointed?”
Your heart sank for some reason.
“No. You have grown up. You know who you are and speak up about it. But you challenge me, you care so much about everyone else, and you’re so fucking intelligent. And that body…”
You thrilled at that statement.
“You’re so much better than the fantasy I’d built in my head. I was intimidated.”
“You didn’t seem intimidated last night. Or this morning.”
You moved closer to him, craving…something.
“I wasn’t planning on having to sleep in the same bed as you. I couldn’t help myself.”
Steve’s hand touched your arm and moved up your neck.
“It’s like I’m drawn to you on a string… I…and this body… you’re not a little girl anymore.”
Steve looked down your cleavage and then drew away. You felt disappointed.
“I wanted to talk to you before… if… anything happened.”
Steve looked out over the water.
“And I just know that if I… if we… took it there. It would be the point of no return.” 
He looked back over to you.
“You wouldn’t be able to get rid of me.”
Your eyes were on Steve’s lips.
“So it’s like that?”
“Yes, very much so.”
“You mean to tell me that I would be dickmatized? I couldn’t quit you if I tried.”
Steve smiled cockily at you.
“Pretty sure that would be the case…”
“Try me.”
And suddenly you were on Steve’s lap, your hands in his hair as you kissed his lips and demanded entry with your tongue. You ground your crotch on him, bringing his cock to life through his pants. His hands went to your waist, thumbs caressing your sides as he took possession of your mouth. He groaned and one hand moved up to your nape, grabbing the hair there to separate you from him.
“We can’t…you’re trying to get me to fuck you on the side of a public cliff.’
You whined as Steve attacked your neck, nipping and biting you, surely leaving marks. Your clit was quivering from the pleasure and your whines got louder.
“Need you Steve…”
The last 24 hours felt like a giant tease. 
“You need time to think, remember? We’re caught up in emotion now… time to.. Fuck… think.”
“Yes. You’re right. Thinking is for winners. Not fucking like mindless animals. Wouldn’t want you to fuckme from behind like an animal with that big dick…”
“I’m so hard right now, I’d need to struggle to fit it in that tight little hole…”
You whimpered.
“It would be so easy right now. ‘M so wet…”
Steve groaned.
“Ok.. that’s it.”
He lifted you off of his lap and all you could do was look down on his hardon, disappointed. He lifted your chin to look in your eyes.
“You really will have us arrested.”
He nodded toward a security camera.
“Let’s go back to our separate rooms. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
“Yes, join me on the yacht tour we can have a great discussion in our bathing suits. Swim in the ocean. Get all wet…”
Steve shook his head at you and grabbed your hand.
“You’re going to be the death of me.”
He led you back down the path to the Vespa and kissed you after you put your helmet on.
“I promise I won’t hurt you, y/n. I will give you anything you ask for. And you asked for space.”
“You wouldn’t hurt me, even if I ask you to?”
“You’re incorrigible,” Steve laughed at your antics.
You kept your hands in neutral places on the ride back to the hotel, resting your chin against Steve’s leather-clad back. Steve caressed your hand with his as he drove. He walked you back to your new suite, and when you reached the door you leaned back against the wall.
“Do you want to come… in?”
Steve smiled at you. 
“More than anything… but I won’t..”
You pouted up at him, chipping away at his resolve. You cursed yourself for saying you needed time alone.
“Can I have a kiss, Captain?”
Steve chuckled, moving closer to you.
“Of course…”
You dropped your bags when he leaned down, your tongue laved his lips and when he opened, you sucked his tongue. Steve moaned into your mouth as your hands came up and tugged on his hair. That was a hot wire straight to his cock. His hands began to wander, large fingers playing with your nipples through your bodice. Your sensitive buds were straining against the lace and the cotton as he teased you.
“This dress…the way you look in it. And the way you feel…”
“You’re making me so hot, Steve. Want you. Need you…I’m dripping for you.”
You pressed yourself close to him, standing on tiptoe to return the favor of marking his neck, making him reach down and gather up the hem of your dress.
“Is that so?”
And his fingers dipped into the lace of your sodden panties, moaning as he felt you.
“Fuck this feels so good, Doll. You are so slick…oh my god…”
He started to finger fuck you with two thick fingers as his thumb twirled your plucky button.
You were holding on to his shoulders for dear life at this point.
“S-steve! Fuck!”
“When you go in here. By yourself. Alone.”
It was like he was trying to convince himself. And he was.
“Don’t touch yourself. I’m claiming this pussy as mine. And I don’t want you to touch it. Be a good girl and save your orgasm for me.”
You were about to cum on the palm of Steve’s hand, so you would agree to anything.
“Jesus Steve… yes, yes! Whatever you say.”
He withdrew his hand, holding your glare as you watched him suck his fingers off, angry that your orgasm was denied. You didn’t want to be defiant, but you needed retribution.
“Then you can’t touch that cock. No matter how hard you get tonight.”
Steve gulped.
“Don’t waste any of that delicious cream on the floor or any where that I am not there to lick it off of you. If you are not going to cum inside me tonight, you better not do it anywhere.”
He smiled at your possessiveness.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He leaned down and kissed your nose.
“You’re so cute when you’re angry. You know that?”
You smiled up at him and turned around to the wall within the cage of his arms.
“I’m much cuter when you’re hitting it from the back, or so I’m told.”
Steve felt a mixture of jealousy and lust as you stuck your ass out and ground on his hard cock through your dress and his pants. He pushed his wet fingers in your mouth as his other hand went back to your pussy, teasing you to the edge again, as he molded you to his fingers.
“Such a fucking brat. I should fill all your holes…”
Your body throbbed as you thought of being used by Steve in that way.
You begged for it.
“Please Captain…”
Steve growled as he abandoned your pussy again and fell to his knees, pulling your dress up and your panties down. He pulled your hips backward so that he had access to your sopping wet crease. He needed to shut you up, and this was the best thing he could think of although you were in the middle of a public hotel hallway. Of course, he wasn’t thinking clearly since there was no blood in his brain.
Steve’s lips suckled at your clit like a man dying of thirst and just when your vision started to blur, his rude tongue forged a path up your folds to your tight ring of muscle, where he boldly dipped inside you. You grabbed his hair as he gave you a taste of what he wanted to do to you, but once again, you were denied the ultimate pleasure. He stopped just before you came all over his face.
Your head was spinning as he turned you around and fixed your dress. You looked up at him, surprised that he was upright, and that you were not on your knees next.
“Now be a good girl and get some rest.” 
He put your bags back in your hand and kissed your temple, then retreated across the hall as you opened your door. 
“G’night,” he said as you held the door open, as if offering an invitation.
“Sweet dreams,” you responded, letting the door swing closed as you pulled your dress over your head, giving him a glimpse of the lilac lace beneath your dress.
Steve’s first urge was to break the door down when it latched closed, but instead he just stood there and collected himself as he looked around for the exit and took the stairs down to his room to burn off some steam.
You leaned against the wooden door of your room, hoping in vain to cool down the fire that Steve Rogers had stoked inside of you.
—-
If you like it, reblog pls! ❤️
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harlowcomehome · 3 months
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Our first place:
Series link!
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It had been two months since you and Jack had moved in together, and more than half of your things were still in boxes. You were growing increasingly frustrated feeling like you were losing track of what box held specific items.
Your Christmas tree was still up despite it being weeks past and you felt overwhelmed by the disarray of your apartment. Jack wasn’t a slob by any means but he definitely made the place look more “lived in” than you.
You couldn’t blame him for the mess and it wasn’t your fault either, life had been a whirlwind for the both of you. Spending most nights in another state, another hotel, and still trying to have some form of privacy.
Jack had been nominated for two Grammy awards, was featured on the cover of Forbes magazine and was also awarded with hitmaker of tomorrow with Variety.
The celebrations and jet-setting rarely stopped, making your head continuously spin.
Fans grew suspicious of the new woman on his team, suddenly traveling everywhere with him and overanalyzing every glance you’d make at one another. The two of you giggled as you scrolled through Reddit posts and Twitter posts. Never confirming or denying it felt more organic, letting this just be.
The talks of making a big move about going public with your relationship were quickly swept under the rug, and the pressure felt less intense now that you were touring with him and traveling full-time together.
Christmas was hectic, having spent half your time in Kentucky and the other half bringing Jack back home for the first time. It was beyond overwhelming. Your family gravitated toward him and fell in love with him quickly, seeing the glimmer in your eyes as you looked at him was enough for them to know this was in fact the real deal.
However, since getting home from your trip you felt a disconnect between the two of you, an unspoken distance. Neither of you wanted to touch the subject and it was giving you an unfamiliar ache in your chest. You were finally at your breaking point, feeling out of control was never your strong suit.
The front door of your place opened and Jack came barreling inside with Urban, Copelan, and his producer Angel. The three of them bounced final ideas off one another, as you gave them a limp wave and rushed to hide in the bedroom.
Jack immediately sensed your discomfort, leaving the guys to the living room to eat lunch as he followed you into the bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind him.
The sound of your audible sobs stopped him in his tracks, a wave of immediate guilt came over him. The sight of you sitting on the carpeted floor of your walk-in closet broke his heart.
“Fuck- baby. Talk to me” he kneeled, holding you as you cried into his chest. You didn’t know how to begin, or where to start explaining because right now it felt like everything was wrong, every single thing.
You coughed, trying to catch your breath, embarrassed that you had reacted this intensely, embarrassed you now had an audience, and mortified he had to excuse himself to pick up the pieces.
“You’re going to make yourself sick. Let’s try breathing exercises, okay?” He pulled you away to look at you, his blue eyes filled with emotion too. He helped you take deep breaths, sitting with you as you tried to regain composure.
Urban sent him a quick text, letting him know they were leaving to his place that was just down the street, having been able to tell immediately that you were upset.
“After we took that trip to Kentucky, I feel like everything between us has been off. I feel like you’re being distant and the apartment is always in shambles. “ You shrugged trying to hold back tears “I’m overwhelmed and I feel like I’m walking on eggshells because your career is everything to you, and I get that! I do!” Your voice was heightened, growing emotional and defensive again.
He blinked away his instinctive frustrations having heard that last sentence. “My career is important to me. You’re right but it’s not everything. It’s not everything to me. You are, this is” he grabbed your warm hands, kissing them as he held them in his.
“Then talk to me? What’s going on in there?” You sniffled, lightly tapping on his head playfully making the tension dissipate as you both chuckled.
He sat down more comfortably on the ground, leaning against the wall as he motioned for you to come sit with him. You scooted closer as he spread his legs for you to sit between them, facing him.
He was working on becoming more vulnerable, something he found difficult with most people but you made it easier, lighter even.
“This next album is going to change things for us. Being home put a lot into perspective and-“ he sighed, still worried about your reaction to what he wanted to say.
“Talk to me, I’m listening” You brushed his beard with your fingers, comforting him and encouraging him to continue.
“I know we just moved in together, and I know we still haven’t settled in completely so what I want to say sounds selfish and I don’t want you to think that every move we make is because I want to make it” he leaned his head back against the wall behind him.
“You want to move to Kentucky?” You knew he did, without the words being spoken yet. You saw the way he just better fit there, he belonged. Having spent Christmas with his family, seeing how he loved everyone so loudly just made sense.
“I want us to move to Kentucky but I just feel like that’s insane right?” he looked at you with widened eyes, worried you were misunderstanding the direction of the conversation.
“We should move” you smiled, leaning in to give him a soft peck on the lips.
“But what about? And we just-“ he couldn’t finish a complete thought completely taken aback at your response. “I’m sorry, hold on. What the fuck?” He laughed almost uncontrollably making you lean into him and laugh too, eventually leaning your cheek against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.
“I feel like moving to Kentucky makes the most sense and I want you to be happy” you sighed, pulling back to gauge his response as you searched for emotion in his eyes.
“I don’t want my happiness to mean you’re unhappy” his bottom lip quivered as he tried to bite back a layer of emotion he had been suppressing.
“I think you’ve done all you can do in Atlanta. I know I’ll need to adjust but I can and will- I just want to be where you are” You kissed his slightly pink freckled nose.
“I can probably find someone to cover this lease” he shrugged, thinking about all his connections in Atlanta. “That's not my worry though, sweetheart are we good?” He motioned between the two of you, his main focus.
The pet name “sweetheart” rolled off his tongue naturally as if that was your given name. You nodded, a deep breath of relief escaping the both of you.
“Yes, besides kentucky seems like a good place to raise some kids” you teased knowing he’d like the sound of that as you played with his intertwined fingers.
“Don’t turn me on- i’ll give us one to raise right now” he chuckled knowing there was no truth to it.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep” You rasped as you cupped his face, pressing your soft lips against his. Your tongue was able to slip in, your fingers getting lost in his curls as the intensity heightened, making for a very relieving evening.
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djarincore · 5 months
Text
To Touch Darkness
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summary: Din is possessed by the darksaber, forcing all of his darkest fears and deepest desires to manifest in a way that threatens to consume you.
pairing: haunted!din djarin x f!reader
word count: 4.8k
warnings: dark, dubcon, biting, blood, oral (f and m receiving), hair pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, possessive behavior, name calling, dirty talk, breeding kink, breath play, degradation, unprotected PIV, manhandling, mainly smut, please read tags carefully and do not read if anything could be potentially triggering!
a/n: there's something so sexy about an emotionally closed off man who gets possessed and all those locked up feelings surface in the worst way possible and he becomes obsessed with his desire hehe
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There was something wrong with Din.
You wanted to believe in logical explanations. Grogu was gone, training with Luke Skywaker and shrinking your clan of three to two before you could process your goodbyes. The Razor Crest was ashes—the only home the two of you had known for the years you’d been together. And Din’s creed was broken, leaving him an apostate with an uncertain future. Not to mention he was now in possession of an incredibly powerful weapon, the darksaber, and he didn’t even want the responsibility of its power. 
The world was crashing down around him; it made sense for him to change. 
But, you were wrong—so very wrong.
Your slow realization began the first night without Grogu. The two of you had gone back to Tatooine with Boba Fett and Fennec Shand, finding an inn to stay at before planning your next moves. 
Exhausted, as you laid on your side in bed together, his bare hands wandered over your skin, hot and needy, his mouth trailing down your neck in search of the spot that made you melt beneath him. He knew it well, having spent hours ravishing you in the dark of his bunk long before Grogu was ever in your lives.
You craned your neck to face him with a frown. Maybe now wasn’t the best time; after all, you both just lost a son. “Din, I don’t think-”
With better access, his lips sealed yours in a passionate and frenzied kiss as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pants. 
“Need you,” he grunted, yanking your pants down along with your underwear, “Now.” 
“But, Din,” you attempted to protest, but it died on your lips when his hand pulled your thighs apart and another wrapped around your waist. His rough palm came in contact with your clit and a finger ran up your folds. You shuddered and gasped when he ground his palm against your clit, urging you to grind against it. You could feel him growing stiff against your ass as he rutted against you. 
It was unlike him to be so desperate; Din was all about calm and collected control. When the two of you were in bed together he would never fully lose himself to his desires, a part of him always held back, too afraid to hurt you. His hands would only ghost the column of your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh of your skin but never sinking in and taking what he wanted. 
But, you were tempted by that locked up part of himself, by what he could do and how well he could ruin you if he’d just give in. 
Both your emotions were running high from your newfound loss; you slowly allowed yourself to succumb to the pleasure he offered to forget your feelings for a night. 
Din turned you on your back and his lips returned to your neck, trailing down the slope and through the valley of your breasts. You moaned when his tongue ran over your nipple, building it up to its peak and then moving on to the next, teasing lightly with his teeth. 
His finger worked over your clit, massaging circles around it until you were writhing and soaked. He cursed as he stuffed two fingers into you without warning, curling his fingers in your heat. “So tight ‘n wet for me.”
You cried out, shocked by the sudden feeling of fullness. You weren’t quite used to how rough he was being, the words he spoke. As much as you loved his praise and gentle whispers, you couldn’t deny how wet you became from hearing the rasp in his voice or the way he commanded your body with rough touches. 
You shifted your hips to adjust to his fingers, but he clawed down on your thighs, forcing you open. 
“Stay still,” he growled. 
You struggled to comply. Hips jerked in response to his thick fingers pushing and pulling through your slick heat. You whimpered his name, curling your fingers around his bicep. You could feel the tension in your belly building. 
Din huffed, his fingers slipped out of you and he manhandled you onto your stomach, propping you up and ready for him. 
Your eyes widened. He never liked taking you in this position, said it was too impersonal. He always wanted to see you, kiss you, watch as your face twisted with pleasure, to see your eyes open again and know they were filled with love. 
He leaned over, pressing himself against your pulsing heat, allowing you to feel just how badly he wanted you. He whispered low in your ear, rough and heated, “What’d I say, mesh’la?” 
“S-Sorry,” you panted, pushing against his cock. You were throbbing, aching to be filled again and again. 
“Think you can take me yet?” 
You only nodded into the pillows, too distracted by the rustling of his pants sliding off and being discarded somewhere in the corner of the room. His thick cock dragged against your entrance, soaking in arousal.
“I need an answer,” he demanded, pulling your face from the pillows. He cradled your jaw. The tips of his fingers trailed down to brush against the column of your throat. 
“Yes! Please, Din,” you begged, pushing your aching cunt against him. 
When he slid in, molding you around his cock, you clung to the pillow and moaned. He grunted once he was all the way in, already pressing against that perfect spot that made your entire body tremble. He just knew your body all too well and when he began grinding into you just the way you liked, you nearly fell apart with a cry.
“Such a good girl,” he groaned when you opened around him, adjusting his grip tighter on your hips to control you. His thrusts started shallow, allowing you to adjust to his size, until you begged for more. “Ready, cyare?” 
“Yes, please, I need it,” you mewled, rocking your hips back. 
The first heavy thrust nearly pushed you against the headboard. He continued at that pace, drilling into your tight cunt. The slick dripping between your thighs was messy and your walls fluttered around him, pulling him deeper until he was groaning and snapping his hips harder. 
You swore you were going to break. The angle was different; he was pressing against you in all the right places, filling you to the brim. The building pleasure in your stomach grew and grew. His hand wandered away from pressing bruises into your hip and brushed against your swollen clit. 
You jerked away with a pitiful yelp, but his other hand held you down, moving from your hip to the back of your neck once again, pressing your face into the pillows.
“You’re okay,” he soothed. “Doing so well for me.”
“Ah, Din, feels so good,” you whimpered, sinking deeper and deeper under the waves of pleasure as his finger continued moving on your clit, sending strong pulses throughout your body. It rocked you to the very core until you threatened to snap. 
The fingers around your neck pressed gently, reminding you he was there, completely in control of your pleasure. The added pressure only served to bring you closer to your climax. 
“Close?” 
“Mhm,” you managed through your breathless pants.
With a few more thrusts of his hips, you shattered completely with a sharp cry, squeezing his cock until he followed soon after. You rode your highs together, his chest against your back and his mouth to your ear, whispering praises. 
As you eased yourself onto your stomach, Din slipped out but continued to hover over you, ghosting fingers up and down your spine to soothe you. 
“Did I hurt you?” His concern and guilt took over his exhaustion. Two hands roamed your body, tracing the marks and bruises he created. 
You cut off his on coming apology, “I’m fine, Din. I-I actually liked it.”
“Really?” His fingers pressed into your skin. “Are you sure?”
You laughed, turning over to grab his head and pull him down, attacking him with a flurry of kisses all over his face. “I’ll say it one more time—I’m fine, Din.”
Din pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, cradling your cheek in his palm. “You won’t leave, right?”
Your brows furrowed. It was a sudden question, but you had a feeling you knew what brought it out. “No, Din.”
A shadow passed over his eyes, so quickly you swore you imagined it. 
“You’re mine?” 
Your worry faded into a chuckle. “Last time I checked, we’re married. Of course, I’m yours forever.”
Din pulled you into his chest, an arm draped over your waist, his fingers pressing into your back. He peppered kisses over each splotch of color along your neck. He was clearly satisfied with your answer. 
As you drifted off, you faintly heard a whisper.
“Mine forever.”
Din’s behavior only declined after that night. He rarely allowed you to leave his side or wander too far out of sight, claiming it was better this way, safer. 
Who knew what kind of enemies he had made after capturing Moff Gideon? There were people after him; they were enemies shrouded in shadow and ghostly whispers he couldn’t explain, but they were there—he was sure of it. 
And the only place you could be safe was by his side as he viciously tore his enemies apart. Bounties were no longer given the choice to be taken in alive. 
You witnessed Din slice a man’s hand off with the darksaber simply because he grabbed your hand as he begged for his life. And when you asked him why he’d done that, he only shrugged and polished off the darksaber’s hilt. 
“He touched what’s mine.”
His words burrowed into your skin for weeks to come.
Mine. Mine. Mine. 
Every time he held the darksaber you wanted to shy away. The ominous glow surrounding its dark void pulled you into its haze and clouded your rational thoughts. 
His words were no longer spoken with adoration and devotion—there was only obsession. He needed you, craved you so desperately. His frenzied hunger consumed you every night. He was rough, needy, as if every second you weren’t wrapped around his cock would turn him into a starved beast. You were never without splotches coloring your skin, never without his touch burning onto every inch of your body. 
And you craved him all the same, falling into his arms when he opened them. The need was insatiable, almost painful. To be without him created an ache deep in your heart, a pounding in your skull, and throbbing desire for him to be buried in your weeping cunt. 
So, you continued to follow him because you loved him and needed him. 
He often talked about Mandalore, not just when it came to bathing in its waters to be redeemed but reclaiming it, becoming its rightful ruler. You didn’t understand where the desire came from. He was so adamant about giving the darksaber to Bo-Katan after winning it from Gideon, not wanting anything to do with the responsibility.
His determination led the two of you to find the Armorer, hoping she’d give him the support and guidance he needed. When you ended up on Glavis, where the Armorer and Paz set up a new forge, you were glad to see them. 
It almost felt normal. For the past six months all you knew was Din. Seeing familiar faces brought back a sort of clarity in your mind; the world was more than just Din.  
That night you laid with Din in a bed offered by the Armorer in the new covert. You stayed up, haunted by your thoughts. Your recurring dreams, more like nightmares, were plagued with panic and danger, blood and death. 
The nightmares started after Din’s change in character and always surrounded him, whether it was him washed in the blood of his enemies or lying in a pool of his own. 
Fresh air would do you well. You had to untangle yourself from Din’s arms. Carefully, you slipped his arm off and rolled yourself out of his grasp, replacing your body with a pillow. He didn’t stir and you crept out of the room without a sound. 
You hated stumbling around in the dark. Before things with Din began to change, you had no problem with it, but now it felt suffocating to be trapped in the darkness. 
The new covert was smaller, made up of narrow walkways with no railing. One small misstep and you’d tumble over into the abyss. A small part of you wanted to turn back, stay with Din where it was safer, where he could protect you, but that thought shrunk the longer you walked down the familiar path toward the forge. 
The light in the room beckoned you inside. Paz was sitting on a bench cleaning a few blasters with a rag. 
“Come in,” he invited, not taking his focus away from his task. 
You slipped into the room and sat on a bench situated against the wall. 
“Trouble sleeping?” He asked.
“Sort of,” you said. It was odd to be alone after so long by Din’s side. You almost felt empty. 
After a long silence, Paz finally spoke.
“The darksaber is dangerous,” he spat. “The apostate should have never brought it here. It craves power and control. It draws strength from fear and desire.”
You sat, dumbstruck. You felt a moment of clarity, something you hadn’t felt in weeks. Were you truly so blind to the darksaber’s influence over your mind and body? But it all made sense—the lust, the possessiveness. The darksaber was to blame. 
You missed Din, the man he used to be and the life you had. 
“There has to be a way to help him, right? We can take it away, destroy it,” you spouted off. 
Your speech was growing frenzied, your mind desperately raced for solutions to fix a problem you didn’t understand. 
“We have to help him,” you begged. You stood and rushed to Paz, grabbing his arm. “Please-”
“What’s going on here?” 
Din appeared like a ghost at the edge of the shadowed doorway. Darkness seemed to consume his outline, pulling him further into the abyss. 
You slipped your hands from Paz’s arm and stepped away, afraid of what Din might do if you clung to him longer. The sound of the darksaber igniting and echoing screams rang in your ear.
“Nothing,” you were quick to say, but Paz thought differently. 
“You’ve changed.”
Din’s low, dark chuckle made your shoulders tense. Confidence seeped in his stance, his posture lax and head cocked. “Have I?” 
“You scare your own riduur, brother.”
“She’s not scared.” 
Paz stepped in front of you, shielding you behind his large body. “You do not get to decide that.”
With your face no longer in his sight, the confidence slipped into rage. “Stay away from her,” Din growled. 
Paz shifted his feet, igniting his vambrace shield. The tension began to rise as both men reached for their weapons.   
“Din, stop,” you demanded, stepping from behind Paz. You didn’t want bloodshed—you just wanted him to be free. “We just want to help you.”
“Come here,” Din commanded. 
The feeling was undeniable. The heavy push toward him forced your feet toward him. Though your mind wanted to fight it, your eyes gravitated toward the darksaber clutched in his fist. It screamed and called for you, distorted and clear all at the same time. 
“Din,” you begged, as if his name would be enough to rid him of the darksaber’s curse. 
“I did not ask.”
Like metal grinding against metal, a trilling noise reverberated in your skull, calling you to him with more than just words. 
“You do not deserve that weapon nor your riduur.” 
Paz’s harsh words were enough to push Din into igniting the darksaber. A pitch black saber with a glow of white and a hollow ringing as it raised, the sight brought a tremble in your legs. The confrontation would only end one way if you didn’t defuse it. 
“They belong to me.”
It was like Din’s voice was not his own. 
“The darksaber was forged by my ancestors. It does not belong in the hands of an apostate.”
“Then come get it.” 
The threat was evident in his words. A new challenge for the darksaber was approaching, one that would only end in death to mark the true keeper of its power. 
Paz stepped forward. The ringing became louder, unbearable. 
“Stop!” You threw yourself in the middle, arms outstretched. “That’s enough!”
You carefully stepped toward Din, hoping your wavering smile would make him sheath the darksaber and forget Paz’s words. “Let’s go to bed, okay?”
Din grabbed your arm and tugged you away. When Paz stepped forward again to follow, you stuck your hand out to shoo him away. He had the best intentions, but you didn’t want to see him dead.
When Din returned the darksaber to his belt, the ringing didn’t stop. You wanted to run, but you wouldn’t leave Din to be consumed by the darksaber’s influence. 
Din dragged you back to your bedroom; the silence was tense. His grip around your arm burned and he squeezed until you let out a whimper. “He’s turning you against me, trying to take what’s mine.”
He threw open the door and pulled you inside, kicking the door shut behind him. 
“It wasn’t like that,” you whined, clawing at his hand. Maker, your head was pounding. “He only wanted to help.”
“Help?” He scoffed. His other hand came to grip your jaw, his nails digging into your cheek, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Don’t fucking lie to me. Just admit you want to leave me too,” he all but roared.
It was fear speaking. His hand trembled as he held you. Like a caged tiger lashing out. 
Your eyes burned as both of his grips tightened. “No,” you managed to squeeze out of your puckered lips. “Never.”
“Prove it.” He released you with a shove, sending you tumbling to the floor, and sat on the bed. He began to unbuckle his pants. 
You stared at him wide eyed, slightly dazed from the fall. He was never this rough or demanding, even when he was buried deep inside your cunt, taking you over every flat surface available.  
“Don’t sit there and look dumb.” 
His words brought you back. Your legs clenched and shame flooded through you. 
It wasn’t right. You were supposed to be convincing him to get rid of the darksaber, not getting aroused when he threw you around with impressive strength. 
Your head was screaming; the pounding against your skull made you fear something would burst out of it. You couldn’t focus. 
You needed to…
Your hands were on him. You freed his cock easily and got to work without a second thought. You just wanted to—needed to—please him. 
Stroking his thick cock with your hand, your thumb brushed over the weeping tip and smeared pearls of precum over him. You felt saliva begin to pool on your tongue as you leaned forward to take him into your mouth. Your lips wrapped around his cock, taking as much as you could until you reached halfway. You stroked the rest of him with your hand. 
“That’s it,” he sighed, a hand reaching to press against your skull to guide you. 
Your head bobbed, tasting the saltiness of him on your tongue. You moaned when evidence of your arousal began seeping into your panties. You attempted to shift your hips and angle your heel against your core to give yourself some stimulation. Your clit rubbed against your heel, a weak pressure but managed to send a shudder through you. 
When Din sensed you were more interested in getting yourself off, he forced you down his cock until you choked. Tears pooled in your eyes as you tried not to gag. Your hand clawed at his hip, begging for air. 
“Take it,” he ordered, his voice nothing but a harsh bite. He could feel your throat fluttering around him perfectly—a mouth made just for him.
You blinked away your tears and tried breathing through your nose. 
“You want to come so bad you’re going to fuck yourself on your heel? Heh, what a naughty little slut,” he said, clicking his tongue. 
You nearly jolted at that word, eyes widening. It was always mesh’la or cyare; on rare, gentle nights it was riduur—never slut. Your brows furrowed, but he paid no mind.
His hand guided you along his length, deep and quick. His breaths came ragged as he used you. He pulled you off at the height of his pleasure, biting back a groan. 
“Get up,” he demanded.
You gripped the bed for support as you stood on weak legs before his seated figure. The throbbing in your core grew stronger when his hands came to slide up your waist, beneath your shirt, to cup your breast, running both thumbs over your hardening nipples. 
“This is mine,” Din rasped, pinching one of your nipples until you yelped. Another hand trailed down, slipping into your panties and cupping your leaking cunt. “And this is mine. Every fucking inch of you belongs to me.”
He dragged a single digit through your folds, gathering your arousal on his finger before dipping into your warmth. Your hands flew to grip his shoulder pauldrons when he began moving his finger and grinding his palm against your clit. 
“There is no running from me,” he growled. He ripped his hands from your body and stood in a mass of intimidating silver armor. “I’ll make sure you remember that. Take your clothes off.” 
You were pushed on the bed before you could blink and Din was removing the rest of his armor and clothes. Each plate clashed against the floor, the sound of anticipation. You followed his orders, quickly shedding off your clothes, revealing yourself to the cold night air.
By the time you were naked, his helmet was all that was left. He revealed his face, finally. The eyes you loved were void of any emotion other than lust. Dark eyes scanned your body as he stalked toward you and slipped onto the bed. 
Laying flat on your back, you awaited his next demands. It would be wise to listen. There was no telling what kind of beast you’d unlock with one wrong move, yet you were shamefully eager to discover it. 
When he knelt between your legs, devouring your glistening pussy with his starving eyes, he pushed your legs wider, bending your knees up toward your chest. 
Din lowered himself onto the bed without tearing his gaze from your cunt. He wet his lower lip before kissing along your inner thigh.
“Stay.” Was his only command before he dove into your sweet cunt. He dragged his flat tongue slow up your slit and against your clit. 
You held onto your trembling legs, pulling yourself open for him, as he delved into your folds. He devoured you, using his hands to spread your lips wider as he fucked you with his tongue, eating you like he was starving. 
You clawed at your knees, trying to keep your legs open, as breathless pants slipped through your lips. Your orgasm was approaching fast and if he didn’t let up or give you a break, you’d come all over his face. 
Maybe that’s what he planned. Once he began to rub your sensitive clit, ignoring your whines, you knew it was over. 
“Ngh, Din,” you gasped, giving up on holding your legs when the overwhelming rush of your impending orgasm flooded you. Your legs locked around his head, fingers tugging his hair as your hips moved to reach your high. 
“That’s right,” he moaned into your cunt, encouraging you to ride his face further, clawing your thighs. 
You met your peak with a sharp cry, grinding against his face as his tongue lapped up your release. His hunger was insatiable; he cleaned any drop of your arousal that leaked from your cunt. When he finally emerged, he swiped his thumb over the corners of his mouth and sucked that off as well. 
“No one else can make you feel like this, huh?” 
You caught your heaving breath. “No one.”
Hands slotting beneath your knees, Din spread you open once again. Your body was still shuddering, sensitive, when he slotted himself between your legs. His cockhead caught against your opening and you groaned, still twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm, “W-Wait, Din.”
“Quiet,” he growled, grabbing your neck. His hand squeezed, cutting off your breath, leaving no room for any more argument. 
The usual loving gaze he kept was gone, gentle hands and loving gestures, replaced by something darker—a locked away desire bubbling to the surface. 
You hated how much his voice and his complete control made your body tremble. You needed him to satisfy you.
He entered you without another warning, forcing himself into your cunt despite the resistance of your tight walls. He didn’t give you the chance to adjust to his thick cock filling you. 
You yelped, clawing at his arm. The lack of oxygen and his rapid thrusts made your mind spin. There was nothing but Din as darkness crept into your vision—it would only be him forever. 
“Gonna fuck a new baby into you,” he grunted. 
That would have given you pause if you weren’t so caught up in bliss, trapped in the haze of pleasure he gave you. You only moaned, words were lost to you, your tongue nothing but a heavy mass.
“You want that, don’t you?” He cooed, “To be swollen with my kid. You’d never be able to leave my side.”
He released your neck and you gasped for air, grateful with each breath you could gulf down. His hand slid down your chest until he reached your stomach and pressed down; he could feel the bulge of his cock moving inside you. 
“Right here. Feel that?” 
The pressure from his hand brought tears to your eyes. He was relentless—he fucked you until you cried, helpless under his strength. Your body was nothing but a doll for him to break and mold beneath his touch.
Your sobs were silenced by his lips, rough and heady, devouring every gasp and cry. You tasted blood, felt the sting of your lower lip from where he bit. Din trailed kisses and sucked marks onto your neck as you writhed beneath the attention you were too weak to deny.
His hand slid lower, his thumb grazing your sensitive clit. You came without warning, arching into his thrusts and clawing at his back with a sob. 
He continued, unphased by your cunt clenching around him, allowing you to ride out your high to the point of almost painful overstimulation. 
Your chest heaved, begging for a break he would not offer. Your legs fell limp against the bed. “C-Can’t,” you choked.
It was too much, too sensitive. And when he hit that perfect, spongy spot inside you, your back arched with a violent cry escaping you.
“You can take it,” he encouraged, hands slipping beneath your thighs to push them to your chest, spreading you wider and letting him go deeper. “You’re gonna be good for me, yeah?”
All you could do was nod through his punishing movements as he worked closer and closer to his release. He muttered breathless promises until they trailed off into nothing but grunts and groans.
“Give me another one.” 
“Maker, I could stay buried in you forever.”
He was lost, taking all the pleasure for himself as you laid there whimpering, twisting your hands around the sheets or running them down his back. You ached all over, but you could feel another climax building, twisting inside you. 
Din cursed, the harsh groan came before he sank his teeth into your shoulder. You weren’t sure if you screamed or not, too consumed by your orgasm and him filling you. Your hands desperately clawed down his back the deeper his teeth dug. 
“D-Din,” you stuttered weakly, eyes falling heavy under the pain; your face twisted. 
He let you go after his teeth made their mark on your skin, a sign for anyone else foolish enough to challenge him for you. He pulled your limp figure close to his chest and held you in his arms until your breath evened. 
You were fading, succumbing to your exhaustion and his warm embrace. Though there was a thought floating around in your meddled brain, something important. 
Din shifted inside you, not pulling out yet. You could feel the mixture of your cum stuffed inside of you and slowly leaking between your legs. It was just the two of you, lost in the aftershocks of your orgasms. 
Whatever the problem was, it must not have been important if you couldn’t remember—it could be dealt with…eventually…you just…wanted to…sleep. 
Lulled by the sound of vibrations, like a strange ringing, you slipped into a deep slumber, wrapped in Din’s arms, and were pulled into darkness. 
Nothing was wrong. 
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Text
Our Beloved (Nameless Ghouls)
Summary: During an abusive relationship with a Brother of Sin, Y/n finds she had no strength left to fight; little does she realize there were 5 fighters who would tear the world apart for her.
Triggers: Mention of abuse, mention of blood, pissed off ghouls, fluffy ending
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He should have known better. Should have seen the signs; he should have acted sooner, should have spoken up quicker in her defense. But the past could not be reversed and she was so much better without that fucker. But the regret was strong within his chest that left him sleepless for days riddled with worry for her. How many times had he found her crying alone in a corner trying to hide from the world only to put on a smile for others to see so that they would not know the dark truth? How many bruises did she hide and make excuses for clumsiness he damn knew she did not possess? Far too many. He should have pushed further, asked more questions, said something to her or his bandmates in favor of her safety! All those nights she'd come knocking on the Ghoul's wing with makeup smears as dark and messy as the bruises and marks on her precious skin! He wanted to murder the man - no, a boy. Because that is what he was! A boy who knew nothing of the sacredness of a woman's body and soul. Did he know the damage went deeper than the marks he left on her body could not heal as the bruises on her flesh would over time?
Phantom hated him. Kenneth. The boy who dared lay a hand on the most precious human being in the Ministry. For tainting her view of love and for using her body as much as he abused her heart. It made his blood boil and turned him into a version of himself he didn't recognize. But what could he do? Nothing that would not make her hate him. Y/n was too kind to others. Too sweet for this world…too forgiving of those who wronged her because her heart was just too big; she forgave with the hope things would change. But how many black eyes, hand marks, and split lips will it take for her to realize she didn't deserve any of that; that this show of 'love' was not love at all and a monster could not change his ways with a forgiving heart like hers?
"You have to tell Papa, he can't keep doing this to you. You don't deserve it, angel." Phantom was fuming but he kept his voice calm as he watched with attentive eyes as Mountain wiped at the blood on her brow.
"You don't understand…I just made him lose his cool a little bit. I knew he was busy with work; it is very important to him. I just…I thought he might have wanted to take a break. I should have seen the signs sooner that he didn't want to be bothered. Sometimes he more inclined to take breaks but…I-I suppose he was just overworked today." Y/n murmured, her voice adamant as she defended Kenneth.
"More important than you?" Dewdrop growled cracking his knuckles.
"That's him losing his cool a 'little' bit?" Swiss waved a hand at the girl with an incredulous look on his face. "That's not losing his cool, darling. That's full-on rage mode! What did he do, hit you with a window?!" he snorted at the audacity.
"A mug actually…The handle broke and cut my eye." Y/n replied as if it was the most normal thing in the world, it was to her because this wasn't the first time.
"A…mug? A mug?" Phantom blew up; hands tightening where they were placed on his hips so that he didn't lash out. But the damage was still done; Y/n flinched at the sound of his raised voice and he blew out a slow breath to calm down. He didn't need to add to the damage.
"Honey, that's not normal. It's not okay." Rain murmured gripping her hand that rested in her lap as the Water ghoul sat beside her on the sofa.
"But it-" she began to protest only to hiss when Mountain pressed a cloth to the cut on her eyebrow.
"But it is, blossom. He has the ability to control his own reactions and emotions. He did not have to lash out at you. Not now and not any of the other times." the Earth Ghoul said softly as his attention left the damage on her face to stare into her eyes that were starting to well up with tears.
"We would fucking go to war for you, woman! Why can't you just let us help you?!" Phantom added and Rain glared up at his packmate.
"Not helping Phantom!" he snapped
"We can't keep turning a blind eye to this, babes. We have to tell Papa." Dewdrop added gripping Phantom's shoulder as a silent warning even when his gaze was on the injured girl.
"You can't!" Y/n replied back throwing her hands in the air. "He's the nephew of a politician! He has money, power, and influence in this town! If something like this comes out in the tabloids what do you think will happen?" she looked around at the ghouls with a pointed gaze.
"Ruin his reputation." Swiss snorted crossing his arms.
"No!" the girl snapped. "It would be brushed under the rug just like all the other altercations he has ever had. People will be paid off for their silence, and he goes scot-free!" she explained. "It's just…it's better like this until alternative I have. If I leave him things will get worse…and I don't want this ministry and all of Papa's hard work to get bashed because of one man. I won't allow it." she shook her head and rose to her feet.
"Y/n…" she sighed and hung her head as she wrapped her arms around herself as if for protection.
"It's okay…"
"No, angel it's not. It's never okay." Phantom wrapped his arms around her and cradled her against his chest feeling his heart constrict with pain; but it was nothing compared to the pain she must be feeling and he felt helpless. "We'll fix this…I don't care what it takes, but we're going to fix it."
"A shattered vase is already broken. No matter how many pieces you find you'll never put it back together whole again to make it look perfect." Y/n gave a sad smile before pulling herself away from him and wiping under her eyes.
"I have to go before Kenneth realizes were I went. He's not a fan of you guys." her smile was weak as she headed for the door.
"Trust me, he'll have a whole new reason not to be a fan of ours." Dewdrop growled from behind her but just before she closed the door she paused and peeked back inside looking at each of them with worried eyes.
"Please just…don't say anything." and then she was gone.
It had been a week, a long week that ground on every Ghoul's nerves. Y/n had been avoiding them like the plague, if they were in the same room - even so much as the large mass during eating hours Y/n would pick up her things and leave. It was even worse when Kenneth was with her, that boy had nothing but ill intent; they could already see it. From the glares and sneers, he sent their direction to the way he would have a possessive hold - just a little too tight, around Y/n anytime the Ghouls were within eyesight. Kenneth wasn't stupid, he was simply entitled. He knew the Ghouls knew despite how much makeup Y/n used to try and cover up the marks he left on her. The other Siblings turned a blind eye whether out of ignorance, lack of actual concern, or from fear of what Kenneth would do if they spoke up and said something. Y/n's life was literally hanging on a thread here and no one wanted to try and help the poor girl out - nobody but Papa's ghouls.
Y/n was special to them; anybody could see that. With how closely she worked with them it was a given a sort of friendship would form and it was obvious as well how Kenneth absolutely abhorred their existence; he hated them because he knew they posed a threat. Like staring a lion down from outside the enclosure but knowing if he ever left the safety they'd tear him apart limb by limb, and each day that fence was slowly growing smaller and smaller.
Today was the straw that broke the camel's back. The funny thing about egotistical entitled people like Kenneth was eventually, they'd slip up; too confident in what they think they have they believe they could do anything without repercussions. That was essentially Kenneth's downfall.
They found them by following Y/n's voice; her scared and shaky voice that rose the hairs on their backs and made their tails bristle. Kenneth and Y/n were in the garden. The pair had been assigned to weed the flower beds along the garden paths that day after it had rained the night previous. The ghouls did not know what had caused the brutality but they sure as hell weren't going to stand there and do nothing. They came upon the scene that froze them for a moment, the boy Kenneth was holding Y/n by her throat; a sneer of nasty intent on his face as he said something to do before he suddenly turned and shoved her face first into the pillar that held up the garden's archway and causing her to cry out as the intricate stone dug into her face. But he did not stop there and with a face red pulled her away by his hold on the back of her neck only to shove her face harder into the stone.
He was seething; saying something into her ear as her breathless pleas fell on deaf ears as he continued to rage on the innocent girl. The ghouls saw red. Racing over the pathway and jumping over flowerbeds as a shortcut to reach her in time. Phantom's grip was like iron as he gripped Kenneth's shirt and yanked him off of Y/n and threw him to the ground before pouncing like a feral animal.
Y/n sobbed as Swiss's arms wrapped around her and pulled her against his chest while he sank to the ground when Y/n's knees wouldn't keep her up any longer. Curling her small body into his lap as he tried to shield her face by hiding it against his neck while Mountain crouched beside her trying to assess her damage. Rain hand to pull Phantom off of the boy who was putting up a fight but losing badly - Dewdrop yanking the boy off the ground and pinning him face first into another pillar; arms bent at an uncomfortable angle to keep him still but Phantom wasn't finished, he was beyond pissed and if he had the ability he would have been spitting fire from his mouth and nose at this point.
The commotion brought a racing sibling over with Sister Imperator and Papa Copia right on their heels. "What in Satan's name is going on here?!" Sister Imperator demanded when she took in the crying female tucked away within the embraces of two of Papa's ghouls while the others were actively trying to keep a beat down from happening; not that it did much. Kenneth looked like a mess with blood smeared and leaking from multiple wounds.
"Those lunatics attacked me!" Kenneth spat blood out from his mouth and bared his blooded teeth at Dewdrop when the smaller ghoul; despite his small stature was inhumanly strong, snarled in anger at his words.
"Fucking liar!" Phantom growled struggling against Rain's hold.
Copia looked over at Y/n and his eyes widened; rushing over to her he knelt in the wet grass to assess her - ignoring the rumble of warning from Swiss and Mountain, they would not hurt their Papa. They were just protecting what was theirs. He understood that so he was very careful as he reached out to the girl; a gloved hand stroking along her messy locks and seeing she had blood from a few open wounds smeared across her skin.
The pieces were starting to click into place. He knew his ghouls would never harm a sibling without warrant and they adored Y/n; she was one of the most precious things they held dear so this was not of their doing. His face grew grim and his eyes darkened a bit as he looked over at Kenneth. The belligerent look that was on the boy's face slowly fell when he met his eyes when his brain registered the fact that Papa knew. He was not as stupid as he often made people believe he was.
"My office, now." Papa rose sharply and turned on his heel; Dewdrop yanked the boy from his position and frog-marched him across the lawn after the man.
"Oh, don't you worry, honey. I'll be coming back for you; just wait." Kenneth sneered as he passed Y/n and Mountain had to grip the back of Swiss's neck to keep him from launching at the stupid mortal who was laughing his psycho ass off as he was marched away and out of sight.
Rain released Phantom once they were out of sight and the guitarist shook himself off trying to calm his jittery nerves; he really wanted to beat that little shit into tomorrow until he was facing the gates of Hell but he was thankful his pack intervened when they did; he didn't know what he would have done if he had killed the boy or what it would have looked like to the Clergy or Papa. Once he was sufficiently calmed down enough he was at Y/n's side in an instant. Kneeling in the wet grass and pulling her out of Swiss's hold and into his instead; straddling her across his lap as he burrowed his face against her neck and holding her tightly by her waist.
Y/n sniffled as she wrapped her arms around his head and held him close; her body still trembling from the shock and pain. "I-I'm sorry." she whispered nuzzling her head against his mask. "I'm so sorry…"
"Shhh, angel. It's okay…You are safe, he won't ever hurt you again. We won't let him. He's caught red-handed; there's not way he'll be able to touch you ever again." Phantom muttered whether more for her comfort or for himself he wasn't quiet sure.
"You were right though, I should have spoken up sooner…I should have had more faith in myself and not been so weak." she sniffled
"Aw, sweetheart it's not your fault. You were in a tough spot…" Swiss tried to soothe as he rubbed a hand down her back.
"No, you guys were right. I should have acted sooner…But I had hoped-" She began pulling away to look at the others.
"You have a good heart, Y/n." Rain smiled through his mask and crouched beside them. "A good heart who believes in humanity and kindness. It's no fault of yours if others choose to be a dick."
The girl gave a watery laugh and shook her head but she knew it was true. "Yeah…"
"Mind if we ask what brought that on?" Mountain asked as he idly examined the flex of scarlet on the otherwise pristine green of the lawn.
"He was jealous. Accused me of being a whore because I spent too much time with you guys…because I talked to another brother…because I helped a sibling out with chores instead of helping him. Who knows? Kenneth didn't need a reason." she mumbled
"Oh, honey." Rain murmured squeezing her shoulder. "You're a saint you know that?"
"Saint or a fool. Doesn't matter, if it wasn't for you guys…I probably have been fertilizer." Y/n shrugged a bit and played with the tubes of Phantom's mask.
"Let's go inside, the scent of blood is giving me the jitters." Phantom grumbled as he began standing up; keeping his hold on the girl at all times as he rose and carried her like a little koala bear from the garden, really it was just an excuse to hold her and a reminder that she made it out alive breathing and still warm.
Y/n did not argue as she clung to her ghoul and allowed them to lead her back to the safety of the Ghoul wing which not even Kenneth could reach from. She allowed herself to be taken from Phantom to be given to Rain as the Water Ghoul helped her into a warm bath that smelled of lavender to soak in as he took care to clean off the grime and blood, but it was more for her mental state of mind - as a physical representation of wiping and scrubbing Kenneth's touch and influence from her body. He was gentle with his touch when he bathed her and he helped her dry off with a soft towel; she had little shame at this point that she was naked.
She was helped into a pair of sweatpants that were slightly baggy on her that she knew was Dewdrop, an oversized shirt that practically fits like a dress on her - a tribute of Mountain that smelled of lemongrass and sage. A heady scent that reminded her of her time out in the Greenhouse with him. A pair of fuzzy socks belonging to Swiss were soft on her feet when Rain helped her into them and she felt enveloped by the love of each of her Ghouls. After her bath Rain helped brush her hair and braid it back for her before leading her to the game room where the others waited.
Mountain took over her care while he patched her up. Using specially made ointments and gels that he had made with her in mind to heal her. Wrapping up and bandaging her injuries with the utmost care and tenderness. While this was going on Swiss had put on a record that was one of her favorites to play low in the background while Dewdrop who had returned sometime during her spa treatment had helped Phantom create a large mass of pillows, comforters, blankets, and a few stuffies of Rain's to throw in a pile on the carpeted floor in front of the TV that had one of her favorite movies paused and ready to play.
She laid herself out amongst the softness of the nest they created and sighed in relief as her aching muscles that had gone lax from her bath earlier just seemed to turn into jelly. Her was soon crowded in by the others as they settled in; claiming her attention and space as if they owned it. They owned her heart so might as well! Phantom took possession of her as he slipped beneath her and allowed her to use him as a body pillow; masks and uniforms have now gone from each of them as they too got comfortable for the day. Rain took one side while Dewdrop took the other; crowding against Phantom and Y/n's sides as arms draped across waists and shoulders. Mountain and Swiss took the outer age; content to hold their packmates while their tails looped around Y/n's limbs that they could reach as a way to let her know they were there.
"Thank you, for what you did today…and thank you for never giving up on me even when I gave up on myself." Y/n murmured as she nuzzled into Phantom's chest.
"Aw, baby girl you know we'd always fight for you." Swiss cooed shooting her a smile
"What you do not see in yourself, others see in you." Rain murmured sleepily as he nuzzled against her hand as it lifted to stroke along the etchings on his features.
"A butterfly cannot see how beautiful it's wings are but others can and appreciate it; perhaps one day you'll look in the mirror and see just how special you are, little dove." Mountain rumbled
"That's so cheesy." Y/n laughed and the others let out chuckles of amusement.
"Maybe it is, but we hope one day you'll realize just how amazing you are. You are worthy of all the love this world has to offer you. Kenneth was a dick and he abused a beautiful soul; but I promise you, you'll heal in time and we hope someday you will see yourself through our eyes." Phantom sighed reaching up to stroke her hair.
Y/n closed her eyes feeling the sting of tears burning them and she could do nothing more than tighten her hold and nod. "Thank you." she whispered.
"Nothing to thank us for, darling." Dewdrop yawned "We got your back, always."
Taglist: @strawberry-moonpies, @darklylucid
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maisonaime · 3 months
Text
Give and Take
Softdom!Cassian x Healer!Reader
Premise: You get back after a long day of work and Cassian is ready to take over everything, you give him control so that you don’t lose it entirely. 
Splitting this into two parts so that I don't lose my mind over it anymore. Love to all who jumped on this prompt!
Warnings: Dom/sub dynamics, smutty fluff, emotional overstimulation, self-sacrificing, poor self-care (bordering on self-harm), injury and slight gore, 18+ minors DNI
Part 1:
The last flight of stairs up to the rooms you and Cassian occupied in the River House seemed steeper than you had ever remembered, dragging yourself up the stairs was utterly Sisyphean, the last stretch in a long day that had frustrated tears finally pricking in your eyes. You were tired to your bones, fed up with being hunched over a desk, and the day was still far from done over eleven hours after it had begun. You woke and dressed when the sky was dark, and were returning hours after the braziers lining the hallways had been lit.
You had two bags hanging in the crook of one elbow, full of brewing equipment that needed to be polished with a protective tonic before being used in class tomorrow. In the same arm, you were clutching a thick stack of essays requiring grading. Tucked under your other arm was a folio of research on restorative therapies for Illyrians who had their wings clipped. Slung over your shoulder from training was your weapons belt, sheathed with two daggers and a longsword Cassian had wrought for you as a wedding gift.  
The file of research slipped from your arms, scattering down all the steps you had just climbed in complete disarray. You made a small sound of anguish and finally, the tears were flowing freely. You were so grateful for it all, for this beautiful life you had. You were grateful for the research you were able to do to find a way to reverse the horrors wrought on Illyrian females. You were enthusiastic about teaching your students, passing along ancient knowledge to the trainees who would one day be your peers. You itched for training with Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn; pouring intentional movement into your body after long days of obligatory motion.
Healing people, feeling your tendrils of power sweep over broken bones, seeking out the source of symptoms, touching the broken parts of people’s souls. It was the greatest gift, one that multiplied every time you held a newborn babe, watched someone run or dance on legs that had never worked before, and felt the relief of familial caregivers as you restored hearing or sight or even small amounts of lucidity to their aging parents. It was quite possibly the only gift that you valued more than your precious mate. The one who you had remade and been remade by. 
 You were so grateful for it all, for this beautiful life you had. But there were some days when you felt the burden of worlds bearing down on you. Days when failed healings left you shattered. Days when there was simply too much to do and not enough hours to do it. 
“What’s all this sweetheart.” Cassian appeared at the top of the stairs, his darkened gaze forcing you to rethink your current predicament. 
Despite his intimidating size and title, the Lord of Bloodshed was as gentle a lover as you had ever known. He had honed his resolve over the centuries, along with all his other skills. Even in the most feral moments between the two of you, lost entirely to the bond in skin and teeth and brutish groans, he would never lose himself. He could balance himself over you for hours with just the head of his cock pressing into your center, and could sit perfectly still while stuffed down your pretty little throat. 
What he couldn’t do was abide by disobedience. And disobedience to Cassian was self-neglect. Disobedience was forgetting to eat, not getting enough sleep. Disobedience was piling too much onto your plate. Disobedience was trying to lug over one-hundred pounds of shit up the stairs after you had left before dawn and were returning long after dark. And disobedience would earn you punishment.
Ever since you had helped Azriel rehabilitate his shredded wings after Hybern wrought his havoc, you had remained in close connection with the High Lord’s Inner Circle. Your attentive and tranquil care healed both Azriel’s wings and the lingering horror that wracked his soul in the following weeks as he tried to move on from those paralyzing moments of agony. You treated his flesh and soul with equal gentleness, cementing your regard as a healer with the capacity to treat vulnerability with as much tenderness as you treated wounds and sickness.
When Cassian lay broken and bleeding, of course, it was you who was summoned to the tent. He was like every other patient before in your ability and desire to help him. But he was also like no other patient before because he was your mate. You could still feel his screaming cleaving the air and reverberating through your jaw, dulling all senses to anything but him. His brothers had to hold him down with tears in their eyes; Feyre lost her stomach; Mor just sat in the corner silently shaking. You were cursed to remember every ounce of hopelessness in his eyes as he scrambled away from your hands, refusing any of your help or assessment for fear of what you might find.
You found femur bone shattered like glass, tearing into the muscle and tendon of his massive thigh. You found snapped cartilage, torn muscle, and severe hemorrhaging that nearly cut off blood supply to his entire left wing; the damage so bad it would have resulted in field amputation had you not been there. You found the husk of a man who had been so sure he was going to die without being able to save his family, without even being able to say goodbye. 
You burned yourself out with the raw power that flooded from you as you were confronted with the primal need to save him. You gave yourself entirely to the will of the goddess that had blessed your hands. At one point Rhys had to blanket your mind in darkness so that you wouldn’t drain that well of power entirely. 
When finally, the damage left could only be healed by time, you had collapsed over him and refused to move. Unable to. Gentle, weak arms had dragged you ungracefully to a warm chest, to a beating heart. The only thing you could hear through the thundering haze of your overwrought senses. 
“Don’t you ever do that again, for anyone. Not even me sweetheart.” 
And then it was Cassian’s turn to heal you. To watch over your trembling body as you recovered from the depletion of your powers. He fed and bathed you. Stretched and massaged the muscles that felt as though they had been filleted by lightning. Braided your hair to keep it from knotting during the long hours you slept. 
He poured himself into you in a way you had never had before. In a way you had only ever provided to others, never received yourself. In a way you hadn’t ever known you wanted so badly until you were sobbing hoarsely into his arms, years of self-sacrifice pouring out of you.
It didn’t stop there. Only when you had settled into living together did either of you realize the extent to which overextending yourself had become a way of life. The first time you came home past midnight, Cass was in a panic thinking you had been hurt or taken. When you stumbled through the door on legs bent with exhaustion and informed him that you had eaten exactly three crackers and a handful of berries all day, he just stared at you for a long time.
“How do you expect to save everyone if you destroy yourself in the process? This level of self-sacrifice isn’t noble, it’s irresponsible. Now, get on your fucking knees.” Your head snapped to him, pinning him with a disbelieving scoff. But he was dead serious. 
In a flash he had your hair gathered in a stern but gentle fist, and you had your mouth very, very full. He fucked your mouth with a fervor, his fingers finding the corners so he could pop your jaw open further and push himself even deeper down your throat. 
He came with a hiss, freeing a hand from your ruined mouth to pound in a fist against the unyielding stone wall. 
Then he scooped you up and laid you in bed, pouring water with lemon and honeyed tea down your throat. Leaving your side briefly, only to return with a veritable feast of foods specifically selected to strengthen your body and magic. His care was almost overwhelming, but you found yourself surrendering to his vigil over you.
“Put it down” he said, pure authority radiating from him.
“Put what down?” you feigned. 
“All of it, sweetheart. And don’t make me ask again. I’d hate to have to take you down to Az’s workroom. He put up such a fuss last time, even after I cleaned everything in front of him.” There was no room for disobedience in his tone, even if the remark had you chuckling. 
You struggled to unburden yourself, unsure of how to extend your arms and set down one item without imperiling another. You met Cassian’s gaze with pleading eyes that quickly turned fiery at his smugness. You drew yourself up slowly, eyes narrowing…
And dropped everything from your hands, letting the first bag of glassware slide off your arms and crash to the ground – even if the sound of tinkering glass made something in you twist and cringe. 
“Don’t be a fucking brat, you know it’ll only make things worse.” he snapped, lips pulling back in a feral grin as he raked his gaze over your body, your leather-bound dips and curves displayed to him unobstructed. 
The belt you set down gently, minding your beautiful blade. In the middle of the night after your mating ceremony, in the haze of your frenzy, Cassian had marched you down to the deepest chambers of the Court of Nightmares, where the mountain burned nearly as hot as your bond. You had watched with lust-glazed eyes as he hammered out a blade and fused it to the hilt he had already carved and polished—smooth, rounded obsidian imbued with the cavernous powers of the Mountains. 
He fucked you hard into the stone floor and then soared into the night sky with you and the weapon, cooling skin and steel alike. And when you finally touched ground again, he wasted no time showing you exactly why he chose that particular shape for the handle. 
A snap of his fingers had the scattered papers piled neatly beside it. Then you gingerly set down the second bag of glassware, cringing as you considered how your eager disobedience would reflect back in Cassian’s treatment.
“Good.” he crooned. “Now go bathe and wait for me in bed.”
Cass abided by your whims for the most part, always eager to take care of you but never pressuring you to submit. He could always tell when you needed to give away control. When you needed to be told what and when to eat, how to dress, when to speak, and when to be silent. When to “get on your fucking knees” and when to “lay down darling, that’s it, now hush my love and let me work.” And he would give it to you every time without tire, for the rest of his days. 
As you passed him to make towards your suite, he sidestepped into your path and halted you with a hand to your shoulder, the palm of his other hand cupping your face. He looked down at you with gentle eyes. You leaned into his touch instinctively, eager to shove away the pressures of your autonomy, even if just for the next few hours.
“I counted five things that you placed over your own needs today. Your patients, your students, your research, your training, your healing. Then you had to go and double it by bratting off and making a mess of your things.” He glanced around, unimpressed at your display of resistance. 
“It’ll take me time to fix and polish the glassware and reorganize your papers. So you’ll wait. You’ll be doing a lot of that tonight. It only makes sense, I think, that you take ten hard edges before we think about next steps.” His voice was hard, determined, even as his hands were so so soft.
Your eyes widened, head shaking even as his words had your blood thrumming with desire. 
“Yes, sweetheart. Yes, you will. Maybe this time you’ll finally learn your lesson about what happens when we deny ourselves what we need.”
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ofstardustanddreaming · 4 months
Text
dating times
preference summary: what dating them is like.
content warnings: none
fandom: baldur's gate 3
characters: dammon, rolan, and zevlor
gender neutral reader
anon request
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Dammon: Dammon is arguably one of the sweeter ones to date. He always likes to craft you something in his work area, or he likes to keep some of the trinkets that people have traded to him to give to you. Such as a weapon he knows you'll like created from a metal that someone gave him, strongest of its kind. He's a sweetheart who wants to see you smile, and will do anything he can to make sure you don't feel sad. He'll take you to his work area, showing you how he makes his tools, trying to get your mind off of what made you sad in the first place. Dating him includes surprise romantic outings as well, dates set up in the fields, giggling over the meal he packed.
Rolan: Dating Rolan can be a whirl wind of emotions. He's full of life though, and he'll take you along with him to enjoy the days together. He can be stubborn though, really trying to get his way a lot of the time. It can create riffs, but while you're both apologetic afterwards, he's the type to try and do grand gestures to show you how sorry he is. He enjoys dates out towards the inn, and he enjoys a bit of dancing if you can coax him into it, and if he's had a couple of drinks. If he even catches a hint of someone hitting on you though, it's all the chances of him punching or fighting someone over you. There's a bit of insecurity to work through on losing you to someone else, but he is very protective over you and doesn't want anyone giving you a hard time.
Zevlor: If there's one thing about Zevlor, it's that he's a confident someone to date, it was a very straightforward sort of situation in asking you to date him. He's used to being a leader, and will take a leading step in situations of romantic pursuit. He doesn't want to control any situations in a manipulative manner, obviously, but he's someone who's used to expressing his ideas and expressing his feelings to you. He leads extravagant date nights when he's not up to his head in work, and he likes to lead with ideas he thinks are fun, taking into account what you like as well. He's protective as well, with the amount of people he's stressed about looking after, it'll translate to you as well. He'll want to make sure you're okay anytime there's a fight, right after a battle he'll seek you out, looking over any injuries you may have sustained.
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