#and said “its too dangerous out there to walk so i had to save you”

[glsneeg-enthusiast]

EUGAHAHDIFKNFJSGJFHGDGGD

[hungerun-a]

miko's mother, the lady, is mostly just emotionally abusive, but has absolute -ly hurt her daughter before, too. namely there was an incident where she 'accidentally' broke the girl's leg in a fit of magic rage. really, it was in fact purposeful, to keep the girl from wandering/sneaking off as she had been.

[perenlop]

thinking im normal abt my pmd ocs and then bruno is orange comes on

[yellowhearther0]

bruno is orange is soooooooo the most song ever

[phopollo]

You ever

Think about some lyrics you heard when you were younger

And you thought you knew what they meant when you first heard them

But now that you're thinking back on them

You're going

"Oh"

[mollypaup]

bruno is orange is SO fun for the way it blurs the narration.

Did you know that that boy

Is an armed man?

Bearing flowers in two hands

Very able to hold me down

And love me more than anyone

[bisexualiteaa]

actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want

A Flame in Your Heart

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader

AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️

Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.

“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.

“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.

Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.

“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.

Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.

He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.

When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.

When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?

“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.

“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.

Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.

Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.

In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.

As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.

“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.

It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.

“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.

By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.

It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.

“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.

[fire-emblem-drabbles]

What Comes After

Pairing: Astarion x reader

Prompt: In which you couldn't convince Astarion not to become the Vampire ascendant, but still do not allow him to do the ritual.

Description: You really did fall so hard, and so, so fast. No wonder when the ground came to meet you did it hurt just as much. But perhaps its not too late to stand back up again, if someone was willing to lend a hand.

Rating: sfw

Content Warning: hurt/comfort

Word Count: 3018 3244

Notes: I had to save scum this so much on my file that was romancing him. And well I be thinking about him a lot lately... I literally have no idea where these words came from btw so I hope u enjoy them! Edited: 10/6/24 Fixed some spelling mistakes and grammar, added a lil more flavor and tried to make it all present tense lol also this has a title on ao3 now it does here too

“It’s over,” Said with such disdain, such pain and hurt, directed your way. “I’m done with this, and I’m done with you.” Venom, dripping and cold. What happened to the warmth in his eyes? To the love that once shown in them, when he looked your way? “I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.” He looked so broken, so hurt.

You hardly remembered what came next, beyond your own tears. Astarion simply… left. Walked away as you crumpled to the ground, in disbelief. As you begged him to say. When you told him, over and over again, that you loved him.

Karlach and Shadowheart must have dragged you out of those dungeons, otherwise you might still be there, wallowing in your pity. You don’t remember how long it had been since then. Since you had stopped Cazador from ascending, freed Astarion from his grasp… and tried to convince him not to ascend himself. Your words may have failed to reach him that day, but your actions didn’t. You severed the connection of your tadpoles, kept Astarion from seeing his scars. You would not be the one to allow such evils to be birthed, would not allow him to kill 7000 souls. You did not allow Astarion to become the vampire ascendant.

Astarion, hurt, broken, and lost, then choose to walk away from you and everything the two of you had built together over this adventure.

You hadn’t really been the same, since then. Where once you were the leader of your little ragtag group of adventurers, now you couldn’t find it in you to leave your tent. Well… Astarion’s tent, to be precise. You never had one of your own. And when the two of you got together, it just seemed natural to share.

Gale had taken over in leading everyone for day to day adventuring on your behalf. Even though you wished it, the world would not slow down because you were hurt. No kindness spared on your broken, broken heart. Yet you couldn’t stop wondering where you went wrong. Were the two of you not as close as you thought? Could you have been more convincing, hells, more intimidating, anything to have kept him by your side?

It must be night now. Your candles are all stuffed out, the bustle of the streets beyond are quiet, and you can’t hear the patter and stomps of Scratch and the owlbear cub playing around camp. Your tears have all but dried, even if your sorrow remains as fresh as a new wound. No, all is silent in this moment. You take a deep breath. Yes, it would be best to sleep. Maybe tomorrow, you would wake up and feel like a person again. One who could attend to all her duties. One who could save Baldur’s gate.

But sleep never comes for those whose hearts are so heavy. This isn’t the first night you’ve lied awake, thoughts wondering. All for the better, perhaps-- because in the heavy quiet of the cities dark night, you hear the flap of your tent open with the utmost quietness. And you, just as quiet, sit up from your laying position. Who ever has invaded your space must have dark vision, for they pause upon seeing your form and do not move an inch.

“I can see you there.” Your voice comes out, gravelly and rough. You don’t sense your in danger, though, even as your heart beats and pounds in your chest. Who would be stupid enough to steal from a camp full of adventurers, with an owlbear lurking around no less. Still, with some trepidation, you cast the cantrip for light, and watch as your messy tent (and new guest) are bathed in cool, blue light.

“Oh,” Is all you think to say. You can’t really trust your eyes, so you rub the days of built up sleep and sorrow from them. No, you can’t even speak his name as you stare upon him. But you dare not look away. Even if it was a dream, it was him. It was him.

“...You’re a mess.” His words are soft, quiet. He seems to relax a little when he sees you make no movement.

“...I suppose I am.” You clear your throat a little after speaking, if only because a new lump seems to be forming now that you look to him. “How… how can I help you, Astarion?”

“Gods…” He heaves a heavy sigh, looking over your pitiful form. “I’ve hurt you this much, and you still think to help me? Are you stupid?” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Perhaps.” You nod softly. “Stupid enough to fall in love with you, after all.” You can only smile weakly at him.

“I came here too…” He frowns, looking away from you for a moment. He seems to reconsider what he was going to say, sighing and shaking his head before speaking again. “Well it doesn’t matter why I came back. You clearly need some sense knocked back into you.” With that, he moves in closer to you. Surprised, you move in a little in order to accommodate him. You try to ignore the beating of your heart, ignore the hope that rises within you like a phoenix from its ashes.

“What… are you going to do?” You turn to him, nestled into your side like he might have been not too long ago.

“Talk, as terrible as that sounds.” He keeps his gaze down, looking at the messed up bedding. What does he see, in this room that shows the layers of your sorrow?

“Talk?” You repeat. “I thought you… didn’t want to see me again.” You look to where he keeps his eyes trained. All you see is a monument of your regrets.

“Well, that was then. This is now.” Astarion looks to you. To the bags built up under your eyes. To your cheeks, still rosy and sensitive with just how many tears you’ve shed (for him, no less). Your hair is unkempt and as gross as you are, all he can see is someone that loves him. Its bracing, in an entirely disgusting way. After all-- he was the one that did this to you. “I… said and did some terrible things during that ritual. Things that… looking back, I may not have done were I in the right head space.” He swallows hard. “I was… scared. And the promise of power, the smell of blood… it was all so intoxicating, I forgot myself there for a moment.”

The two of you sit in the silence a moment, festering in it. Words dance on the tip of your tongue but Astarion isn’t done speaking. He, too, needs a moment to compose himself. “But… you never forgot who I was.” He looks to you, something soft, something sad, something gentle written into the contours of his face. Even as he turns to you, he struggles to meet your eyes-- shining, glimmering, with everything sweet and promising and loving in them. Something that he doesn’t deserve; not after the actions he took that day.

“You did everything in your power to convince me what I was doing was wrong, but all I could see then was the security that power could bring me.” He closes his eyes, taking a sharp intake of air though his nose. “I was so blinded, I could not see that with you by my side, I was the happiest I’ve ever been these past 200 years…” As he opens his eyes, he looks down to his folded hands, then over to yours before quickly looking away once again. You realize, with much sadness, that even now as he tries to burrow into your familiar warmth, he hesitates to reach out and touch you. Maybe he felt as if he wasn’t allowed to do so any more, or perhaps felt he was no longer worthy… Whatever the reason, it breaks your heart just a little bit more.

“I… see.” It’s a lot to soak up. That in the moment, you couldn’t reach him but in the days sense Astarion has realized maybe this was for the better. The thought hadn’t even occurred to you that he might consider that. That he might actually miss you too.

“You saved me from becoming the very man I lived in fear of, and all I gave you in return was heartbreak.” He seeks your eyes, his own wide and wet and you realize he’s crying now. Tears flood your eyes as well, because he was right; you cared for him so much, though, it almost didn’t seem to matter. Almost. “How can I ever expect you to forgive me?” With that, he breaks, closing his eyes roughly and crying out, sobbing into his own hands. It hurts just as much as when you watched him sob after killing Cazador.

Some how, you summon new tears to cry with him. Two, love sick idiots broken and hurt but not beyond mending-- not yet.

“It’s okay,” You find yourself struggling to say the words, even as you usher him into your arms and hold him. He does not hesitate to hold you in turn, to cry unto you as you into him. “We’ll be okay, I promise, I promise.” Your words come out as prayer as you hold him close. “Just don’t leave again, please!”

“I won’t, I won’t.” Astarion seems to compose himself more quickly than you do, but he does not let go, even as you know your tears stain his shirt. “I’ve got you and I won’t leave you ever again.” He rubs his hand along your back slowly, doing his best to try and comfort you in the same way you have for him in the past. It’s a long moment before you feel yourself begin to breathe normally again, before your tears once again dry and you find yourself staring into his red eyes once more.

“I love you,” Your words are softer than a whisper, said with a trembling smile.

“I love you too.” Astarion responds in kind, resting his forehead against yours. You two stay content a moment, settling into one anothers missed company before he speaks again. “But you’re disgusting-- let me take care of you.” He pulls away from you and your left no room to argue. You merely blink, owlishly, as he pulls back. He moves to stand but you grab his hand before he can get too far.

“Where are you going?” You hold on to him with both hands now, and he has to pause to take the sudden fear on your face. Astarion had planned to leave to return with a little wash bin and rag but seeing you so distraught makes him pause. The last time he left you, he didn’t come back… He can forgive your sudden clingyness, then, but not how you’ve let yourself go in his absence.

“We’re going to get you cleaned up.” With a bit of a struggle, Astarion gets you to rise to your feet next to him. “Don’t make it more difficult than it has to be.” He adds. You nod slowly, still a little on edge from the panic that just flooded your system but nonetheless, choosing to trust Astarion.

So, with the difficulty that comes with only having one hand, Astarion pins open the flaps of the tent (your light cantrip soon goes out as well, but the inside is illuminated but the torchlight of your camp). Some of the stale air you had been living in gets to escape, and you’re able to take a fresh breath of air you hadn’t realized you needed.

Astarion gathers his wash bin, and the rag, and with you in tow, rummages through that the travelers chest you seem to toss anything and everything into. But, avoiding unmatched boots and careful not to prick himself on all the arrows that are in there (and trying not to think about how they were likely dumped in there after he left), he finds what he was looking for-- some soap. And though the water is cold, and the night is cool, at least with a little bit of soap and his careful hand, it’s not all bad.

“You need to wash these clothes too,” Astarion huffs. “I know you have other things, so let’s get you into something cleaner.” You’re guided back into your shared tent (which is already starting to smell better, but the scented water is helping as well) while Astarion rifles though your clothing. Here together again, you finally let go of his hand but stay close to him.

“Thank you…” You pause, watching him pick out something comfortable and warm. “I can take care of myself, though.” You add, attempting to take the clothing from him.

“I’m sure you can-- but I want to take care of you.” He doesn’t let go of your clothing as you try and take it. “So, let me.” His gaze flicks up to your eyes and you’re surprised to see him look so stubborn.

“Oh,” You let go of the clothing, surprised. “I… That would be nice.” You say it quietly, still too caught up in him being here, being real and touching you, loving you.

“Now, out of the nasty clothing, if you would.” He persists, grabbing the hem of your current shirt. He pauses before lifting it though, looking to your face. “That is, if you’re okay with me…” he trails, unsure.

“It’s you, so it’s okay.” You assure him. You raise your hands so he can take off the offending, stinky shirt, and toss it aside. Next, he removes your pants, tossing them the same direction.

“This might be a little cold,” Astarion tells you, but it doesn’t stop the flinch (nor the shiver) as the cool rag touches your skin. Still, his touch is delicate and careful.

He first wipes your face (part of it, still covered in blood and dirt from that same battle). He dips and wrings out the rag, before continuing his work. Your chest, your arms, legs-- all of you, gently washed and cared for. You realize this is the first time he’s been so intimate with you in a non sexual way. It’s… nice. To see his brow furrowed in concentration, have his hands upon you just hold you. It’s not like the two of you went entirely without touching one another in that time, but to have him initiating it, warms you in a way you’ve needed since his departure.

“Now, back in your clothing before you catch a cold.” You nod at him and smile, sliding on the familiar pants and shirt with comfort and ease.

“I already feel a lot better, thank you.” He smiles softly, but sits you back down.

“Just let me attend to this rats nest, and we can be done.” Astarion reaches for his comb, and sits beside you. “Lean back so I can wet your hair, darling.” He guides you down, with your head over the basin, and cups his hand to gather water before wetting your hair.

You let him work quietly, until your hair is wet and he can begin working out the knots starting at the ends. When the comb runs freely through your hair, he grabs the soap and carefully massages it into your scalp, scratching here in there. You let out a sigh in content, and Astarion can’t help but smile softly.

He was still shocked that you even talked to him-- let alone let him touch you. But the two of you needed this. To hold and be held, to love and let go. He was a fool to ever think he could be without you. But he was lucky, then, that you were fool enough to let him back in.

With your hair washed, combed, and dried and the water dumped and wash bin put aside, Astarion lets you sit back up and look at him. “So… what happens next?” You ask softly.

“Well… I’m not sure.” He admits. “I didn’t think you would forgive me so… I hadn’t really thought much beyond that.”

“I suppose we get our rest, then.” You heave a heavy sigh. “I know I’ve taken enough time off from adventuring… And you have some friends who deserve an explanation as well.”

“More talking?” Astarion groans softly, but makes no move to leave your side as you lie down and tug him with you. “But… you are right.”

“You’ll be okay.” You give him a good, full body squeeze. “Everyone here cares for you. They’ll be willing to hear you out.”

“Perhaps only with you by my side.” He lets out a little chuckle. “But… that’s not such a bad thing.” He readjusts in your grasp, snuggling close and turning towards you. “Rest well, darling.” He kisses the top of your head, and smiles down at your sleepy expression.

“I will, now that you’re here…” It didn’t take long for sleep to find you, wound up in Astarion’s arms. You hadn’t slept so well in days, and who was he to wake you when you looked so peaceful…? It seemed like time passed so quickly with you in his arms, and before long he could hear the sounds of everyone else waking in camp.

Astarion couldn’t help but grow anxious as footsteps grew closer to the tent. “Solider, you in there?” Karlach’s voice called out. “I know you haven’t been very hungry lately, but I brought you some breakfast…” Unable to do anything to stop her, Astarion watches, helpless, as Karlach pokes her head into the tent. In the bright morning light that pours in with her, all he can do is look at her with wide eyes as her mouth begins to open. Acting fast, Astarion speaks before she does.

“Shh, just let them sleep a while longer…” Astarion turns from Karlach, brushing some stray hairs from your face. “When they’re ready to wake up, I’ll… I’ll be ready to.” He turns from you, back to Karlach, a look of surprise and glee on her face.

“Right! Right… I’ll be quiet!” She gives him a little thumbs up and quickly retreats from the tent. But… Astarion can hear Karlach, even if she is all the way across camp. First, she tells Jaheira, then Minsc, and Minthara and Lae’zel overhear… Then Wyll, Shadowheart and Halsin of course overhear and then Gale finds out, and now the whole camp is aware that he’s back here even if they are being remarkably polite about it….

Still, it brings a smile on his face. To know they were so excited to see him again (maybe even if it was only to see you happy again) was a comforting thought. To be among friends… That was something truly special indeed.

“Astarion…?” You wake slowly, eyes barely open as you look to him, hold him a little tighter.

“I’m here,” Astarion assures you, giving you a squeeze in return.

“Good…” You close your eyes and cuddle back into him, letting out a small yawn. “Let’s stay alone for just a little longer yet.”

“That can be arranged.” He can’t help but smile, and relax into you. Everyone else could wait a little longer yet-- you deserved what ever you wanted in this moment. And if that happened to be him, well, Astarion was in no place to say no.

[sordidmusings]

Well Earned Praise - Mihawk x Reader

Art by mugibara

Summary: Mihawk is a man of few words and many gestures. Lucky for him, you understand them all quite well. Lucky for you, he knows when to use those spare few words.

A/N: This is a little celebratory piece for @feral-artistry ! She's made a huge landmark in higher education recently that she's worked her ass off for and deserves all the treats and hype!! I was lucky in getting this one out for it too bless up lol I usually can only get possessed by ideas to flesh them out but being able to get them into actual words in a timely manner??? Near unheard of lol That said, it's only a ficlet but I hope you and anyone reading enjoys!!

It’s heaps of domesticity and Mihawk being what could even be called playful lol there has to be at least a tiny bit of that in there for him to have suffered Shanks for so many years so well 💀 in canon its hidden in stuff like him calling Zoro a rabbit - like you can’t tell me he doesn’t also say that shit to amuse himself on top of belittling opponents

Word Count: ~2.1 k

Warnings: gn!reader, straight up fluff, banter, Mihawk being the Most Obvious in his own way, favoritism, Perona and Zoro are there too, you have a place in all their hearts, found family undertone, family dinner with the edgelords, Mihawk being supportive of your accomplishments in a hopefully in character manner lol

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“And what has you so happy?” Mihawk drawls. 

You’ve barely set foot in the kitchen by the time the question leaves him. Your bright mood from your recent accomplishment is undoubtedly buzzing from you and likely tripped off his haki. Or at least you’d write it off as that if you hadn’t been speaking about it coming up the past few weeks.

Despite his prodding tone, you know that’s just his normal voice and not his grumpy one from all your time living at Kuraigana. There’s also a lack of the miniscule brow or eye twitch that usually precedes The Grumpy Voice. Instead his face is its usual stony facade, looking much too brooding in contrast to the apron Perona had complained him into. It lacks any of the color or frills she wished, but you are sure with enough prodding she will one day get one or the other on your dour host. The one thing that truly binds you all together at Kuraigana is an innate persistence (easily gaining the name “stubbornness” when not in your favor). It is a formidable weapon you wield both for and against each other. Usually against, but that ratio is growing more favorable by the day. Luckily its bad run is mostly in bickering and banter, not actual harm.

“I know you’re getting old, but I didn’t know your memory was already going,” you goad, walking to join him at the prep table at the far end of the kitchen.

“I don’t make the effort to remember the chirping of birds,” he responds blandly, disproving his statement by alluding to the fact that he listened to your frequent gushing about it to Perona. All the while, he continues chopping vegetables with insane speed and accuracy. It will always amuse you to see the world’s greatest swordsman use those skills to harvest and chop veggies. His choice on which you’re starting to recognize as the mix to make your favorite meal.

“Uhuh,” you reply, obviously incredulous. “I suppose you don’t have much room in that head of yours for anything besides swords play.”

“It’s dangerous to insult the one handling your food you know,” he warns with the barest hint of humor warming his low voice.

“This cook wouldn’t stoop to poisons,” you assure him, “though I will need to watch my back during sparring.”

“If you’ve actually taken to my lessons, you’d know to do that anyway,” Mihawk chastises with narrowed eyes. You chuckle at his predictability - always so prickly if he felt you weren’t taking your crafts seriously.

“We both know I’d be dead if I didn’t,” you point out. The silence, save for the steady thumping of knife on cutting board, is his begrudging agreement. 

That silence quickly turns comfortable, its ease built on a few hundred hours of peaceful companionable silence that you’ve shared. Mostly they were filled with quiet sips of wine, rustling pages, crackling logs, and calm music. Your favorite is when the sweet serenade of the night’s bugs leaks in the cracked windows, heralded by a cool breeze playing with the curtains. A few hundred more hours spent in travel and training built quite the familiarity and warmed your heart from simple attraction to true affection for this untouchable man.

That affection only makes you treasure these moments more. Seeing him in an apron performing a homemaker’s duties isn’t only amusing; there’s a twinge of vulnerability to it. This man, who is an embodiment of death collecting its due for most, is comfortable with you seeing such human pieces of himself. He’s connected with you and your housemates enough to let you each have your mark on him in subtle ways. There is proof enough of it in this kitchen - now always well stocked with sake and sweets, the allowance of a few cutesy mugs ready for use, fresh eggs from the chickens he’d gotten for convenience and definitely not because of your love of animals. (You hadn’t broken him on goats yet but you were far from giving up on that one).

Your thoughts are interrupted by him breaking the hypnotizing motion of his knife to back away from the counter.

“I need to stop in the garden,” Mihawk explains. He casts a pointed gaze at you on his exit. “Don’t go in the fridge.”

The moment he’s taken his exit, you disobey the order. More like a poorly veiled hint. The bright lights of the fridge spotlight quite the treat for you. There’s a menagerie of desserts taking up the top shelf, everything from macaroons to tiramisu to cheesecake to fruit tarts. The colorful display almost kept you from noticing the restock of your drawers of charcuterie below. He really spared no expense; rare cured meats and exotic cheeses were huddled around a large supply of all your favorites, a variety of mustards, jams, and preserves in cute little jars tucked neatly to one side. You can’t help how gooey the gesture makes your heart and how that feeling’s definitely still going to be all over your face when he gets back.

Accepting that fate, you don’t even try to hide it when he comes back through the door with fresh herbs in hand. Mihawk goes through the motions of wiping off his boots and making his way back, all nonchalant confidence, until he looks at you and is struck frozen. He stands and holds your loving gaze for a long stretch of breaths. He’s the first to break your eye contact, looking the closest to unsure that you’ve ever seen him. His face would never tell, but his shoulders curl just a bit up and forward before you see him shove them back into their usual sure posture.

You think he’s going to leave the whole thing unacknowledged, as he’s wont to do with your increasingly common Moments. He shatters that thought when he lays a hand on your arm as he passes, giving it a gentle squeeze. The warmth from his large palm leaves a lasting impression on you. The ravenously yearning part of you - the one you try to keep settled - begins telling you how deliciously warm he must run, how he must be the perfect spot for a nap, how those warm hands would feel easing your muscles, how they would feel-

“Managing to get lost while standing still? Should I worry about that with you too?” Mihawk teases. It’s quite impressive how droll he can be when he lets himself.

“If I say yes, does that mean I’m free of being his human compass?” you joke.

“Only until it’s time to be rid of you both,” he answers easily.

“What?” you ask in mock offense. “No send off party? No tearful goodbyes? And here I thought you were the sentimental type.”

“Obviously,” he agrees, gifting you the first tiny, crooked smile of the night.

Wanting to end on a high note, you let the conversation go and instead focus on trying to find ways to help. It goes poorly. Every task you make for is suddenly already being done by Mihawk, or he’s suddenly blocking you from the means to start. Many an ingredient is intercepted, dish grabbed first, or scraps thrown to trash and compost. The absurd game of keep away it makes is funny to you at first but soon becomes frustrating.

“You’re treating me like an invalid,” you huff.

“I didn’t know you were so fond of labor,” Mihawk drawls. Sly eyes slide your way. “Should I put you back on prepping the new beds?”

“No,” you answer quickly. The new garden spot was chosen for convenient location not ease of creation; the ground was mostly clay and full of rocks with the top carpeted thick with sod and weeds. It would have to be cleared off, rocks dug out, manure and sand and peat moss shoveled in, then all mixed thoroughly to break up the clay. It was grueling work. It was Zoro work.

Mihawk goes back to his cooking with an air of satisfaction. You settle for watching and stealing bites to eat from the food he’s making. He pretends to be annoyed. It lets you both play a new game of keep away where you try to sneak and snatch and he tries to swat you away, usually without even taking his eyes off his task. This continues until the meal is nearly done, when he sends you off to your room to “look proper for a nice meal”. You pretend to be offended but he doesn’t buy it.

You don’t want to spend long getting ready, much more set on spending time with the others, but you also didn’t want to let an excuse to dress up go to waste. By the time you’re headed to the usual dining room, you’re layered in expensive fabric with a fresh face and freshly styled hair.

Mihawk is awaiting you at the grand doors, unfortunately lacking that apron. Instead you get him in a flowing shirt, textured in subtle filigree the same deep red as the whole. It is, of course, open to show off his Kogatana and the sun-kissed skin it rests on. As you get closer, you notice his pants are tailored slacks and his boots have been replaced with dress shoes you wouldn’t have even guessed he owned. Not for a lack of class or style, but for a lack of people and occasions he’d deem worthy of the effort. 

You feel almost silly thinking he’s going through all this effort for you but there’s no other explanation. When you stop next to him, you could swear that even his beard is freshly oiled and combed. You’re too lost in your appraisal of him to notice how his own heated eyes are roving over you. You catch them for a brief moment before they fix to your face. To interrupt the loving taunt about to move your tongue, Mihawk holds the door open for you and gestures you inside.

Zoro and Perona are sat at the table behind pristine place settings. They haven’t even noticed the sound of your entrance over their own bickering. Perona always looks dolled up, but there’s something a little extra in the detail of her makeup and not a single hair on her head is out of place. What’s much more surprising than her is that Zoro looks all cleaned up. He’s still in his usual style but not a speck of dirt is on the clothes and his hair looks slightly damp from a recent shower. It’s hard not to laugh at the idea of Mihawk commanding him to bathe like one would a defiant child and Perona having to throw him in the bath like he’s a hissing cat.

Before you move to join them, Mihawk’s hands catch your shoulders. Their capability for gentleness will always amaze you, and this caress to halt you is no exception. His thumbs swipe across your skin a few times, seeming to relish the motion, before he leans forward. There’s a moment where his cheek brushes the crown of your head before his breath floats over your ear and neck, raising goosebumps over your skin. His lips, surprisingly soft, tickle the tip of your ear as he whispers to you. The words strike you and leave you frozen even as he brushes past you towards the table, leaving the scent of spiced cologne in his wake.

Your housemates finally notice you and both send toothy smiles and celebratory cheers your way. You feel almost bad that you have to shake yourself off to match their energy. Once you get close to the table, Zoro is trying to convince you to share his best sake with him while Perona tells you that’s dumb and you should instead focus on looking through the gifts she’s gotten you. You only laugh as dark fabric and frilly stuffies are shoved your way to intercept the persistent attempts to place an o-choko by your plate. 

Mihawk sighs at the commotion, muttering something about wanting a peaceful dinner for you as he pulls out your chair. His grumbling is undercut by the softness easing the lines from his face. When you meet his eyes as he pushes your chair in, you notice the usually violent amber of them has darkened to flowing honey. His words ring in your head loudly again, causing a loving smile to warm your face. He answers with a brief smile of his own, the smallest curl of his lips and crinkle of his eyes, but it's enough to set your heart racing. It pumps electricity through you, tingling your fingertips and sending his words to spin even faster in your head. Even when your heart calms and is instead made full from loving company, you hold the sound of his voice in your mind.

It’s the first time you’ve heard the words from him, and now that you know their sweetness, you’ll chase that high in all your endeavors.

“I’m proud of you.”

[tender-rosiey]

First of all I love how kind you’ve been to non English speaking anon because as someone who had to learn English, it’s not easy!

Second of all I feel like we don’t see enough fics of jjk men rescuing us from danger! Like imagine gojo saving us from a curse and being like “you know there are better ways to get my attention?” IDUNNO I FELT THE NEED TO SHARE THIS ISDEA 😭

one more — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: it’s nothing <3 a lot of us, including myself, were in there place before so it should be the normal to be patient with them <3

you’re done for, completely and utterly done for.

you’re going to die today and it won’t be because of being stabbed by someone or something normal. no. you were going to get eat by, possibly, the most disgusting and slimy creature you’ve ever seen.

you don’t falter and still fight though, thrashing around in its hold, “let me go you two-toed slimy sewer looking rat!”

the curse seems to have taken great offense to your words cause it frowns then starts swinging you around. It would probably sue you if it could but it settles for preparing to eat you. you start screaming and letting your colorful vocabulary of curses at it.

your cursed technique long forgotten since lo and behold that curse was your natural enemy. so you have nothing to do except to curse it out till it starts crying or something.

just before you’re dropped in its mouth, a figure swiftly catches you and teleports you somewhere safe, a little far away from said curse. you look up and are met with a grinning gojo, “y’know…there are better ways to get my attention than this.”

he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, “you don’t need to be in danger for me to notice you, sweets.”

you snap out of your daze, “I wasn’t trying to get your attention!” you huff as you try to get down but his hold on you doesn’t falter, “oh great, I am released from the shackles of a curse only to be trapped in yours.”

he pouts, pulling you closer and nuzzling your noses together, “aw come on now; I deserve a kiss for this, wifey.”

you shake your head and he sulks, turning to walk away from the scene. you look at the curse then up at him like he has grown two heads, “satoru, what’re you doing?”

“I am not fighting until you give me a kiss.”

you gasp and turn to look at the curse once again. it is contained and won’t harm anyone but you can’t just leave it like that so you look back at your crazy attention-loving husband, “you can’t be serious.”

“I am one hundred percent serious,” he announces but he stops, smirking at you, “so?”

he should be smacked for his smugness but that will be saved for later especially when he continues talking, “I was the brave and strong husband who just saved you, after all.”

so you take a hold of his collar and pull him down, smashing your lips against his. he kisses you back instantly and you guys keep at it a for a while until you smack his shoulder, remembering that there is a curse roaming around.

“that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he says after pulling back, grinning from ear to ear.

you pat his cheek softly and roll your eyes, “haha, very funny,” you point at the audacious curse, “now go deal with it!”

he puts you down then salutes, “yes ma’am!”

satoru then turns around to walk towards it but he suddenly stops in his track. you, who sat on the ground with your favorite drink that satoru got, groan, “what is it now?”

tilting his head so he can meet your eyes, he smiles, “what about one more kiss?”

you are about to reprimand him yet again but then he interrupts you, “on the cheek! so you don’t have to worry about it getting anywhere—at least not now!“

“I should put tape on your mouth so you shut up for a bit,” you stand up and walk towards him, “satoru, you make me think that I spoil you too much,” you hum, straightening his collar.

he puffs his chest with a pout, “is it bad that I want affection from my wife?”

you shake your head as you signal for him for him to bend down and he does so gladly, “no, but you need to get your priorities straight.”

he hums a thank you when you give him the anticipated kiss before he replies, “this is my priorities being straight.”

you roll your eyes with a chuckle, “then I have to explain to you how to prioritize correctly.”

he leans close, lips mere centimeters apart from your own, “a private lesson, huh? I don’t mind—“

you push him away with your index finger, “but later! you have a curse to deal with mister.”

reluctantly, he walks towards it, steps heavy. he looks back at you with a pout, trying to convince you once again, but you don’t falter. you’re already used to his antics and can resist them—to an extent.

giving up, satoru looks at the curse, “you ready to get beaten?”

the curses shakes its head quickly and satoru shrugs, “well, you will anyway,” the curse cries but satoru continues, “and in a heartbeat cause I have a pretty wife to get back to.”

the curses attempts to run away but satoru quickly blasts it and it’s nowhere to be found anymore.

a smile is plastered on his face and there is a spring in his step as he walks—or rather runs back to you, “date time, y/n!”

you don’t know why, but you run away, “but I wanna sleep!”

perhaps instinct.

there is no time to think about it, though, since satoru gasps offended before quickly responding, “we can just cuddle then,” he teleports right in front do you and you bump into his chest.

you grumble and he laughs while holding you up, “so what do you say? some cuddling will be pretty nice.”

“yeah, whatever,” you mumble as your arms wrap around him and you nuzzle into his chest. he presses a loud smooch to your head, ready for at least an hour of cuddling.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[mxtantrights]

Jason as red hood dropping off lost animals at a shelter and being smitten by one of the volunteers?

a/n: thank you anon for sending this in I could marry you!!! love love love this idea and If you want more.. my inbox is open!! <33 I hope you like it, enjoy!!

You think you'll have a door just for him. Only he can go through it, only he would have the keys to it. And he could come by as he pleases.

Yeah.

It's late at night when he comes in. The bell over the front door rings out and takes you out of your late night work. You were filling up needles for the night crew and also filling out paper work from earlier in the day.

"I've got another one." he says.

You lay down the needle and jog over to the front door. Jason Todd walks in with a cat in his arms. It seems calm and unmoving. It's white fur dirty and a bit matted.

"Highway?" you ask.

You take out your flashlight and carefully look at her pupils. They dilate to the light and track it as your move it around. No signs of a concussion but a scan would really answer that question.

"Yeah, she was doing cars left and right. Didn't seem hurt but you usually do scans right?" He asks you.

You look up at him.

You nod your head, "Yeah I can do an ultra sound...do you mind staying?"

In that moment, you try to dissect the way he's looking at you. No, you didn't mean for it to come out like that. But you did mean to ask. He's the one that saved her from the highway. His presence could help her stay calm.

Jason clears his throat, "Yeah I can, I can stay. Sure."

"Okay, follow me."

-

The cat, who Jason is calling Ziggy, is resting peacefully in a pen on her own. You close the gate gently and lock it after. You turn and look at Jason now.

He's standing a few feet behind you with his arms crossed over his chest. A serious look on his face.

"You know sometimes, it's not always a bad story. Sometimes its a good one." you speak.

"A cat on a highway dodging cars is a good story?" he asks you.

You sigh, "I've had some come in this office with extensive injuries and they were dumped on the highway. In a bag or no bag. Just left to fend for themselves in a dangerous environment."

"How do you do it?" he asks.

"Me being here makes a difference. I'm here when someone like you shows up with an animal in need. You make a difference too Jason." you answer.

He shrugs his shoulders, "I'm just doing what I can."

"Which is more than most do. So give yourself some credit."

"I don't really do that." he says.

"Well, you keep coming around here I'll do it for you." you reply.

He doesn't really answer. He just hums a response. An approving and a quite silent hum. But a hum nonetheless. You smile at that.

You remember the first time he came here and dropped of a lost bird. He barely said more than four words to you. He told you about the bird and then he parted ways. You didn't expect to see him again but he keeps showing up.

And you want him to.

[lavandulawrites]

Caerulea

Yandere vampire Gojo x reader

This has been in my drafts since forever.

Synopsis: you see a peculiar man at a party and meet him again when you’re on your way home

Masterlist

Warnings: biting, drugging, lemme know if I’m missing something

Word count: 1561

Ice blue eyes had been following you around the entire evening. Their colour outstanding and alluring, as if they were able to cast a spell upon you that lured you in. They were eerie. The owner of said eyes was a tall man with hair as with a snow. His face was excruciating handsome to the point he looked otherworldly.

His lips twisted up into a playful smile. Revealing pearly white teeth. When he widened his smile as he chuckled, you could see his pointy canines. He winked and disappeared into the crowed. How he managed that was truly a mystery for a man his size.

The night was filled with laughter and horrible music. As the party started to near its end, you decided to venture home. You had only had two glasses to drink and you weren’t drunk. Which was something you probably would be grateful tomorrow morning. You had felt that it would be unwise to drink when you made eye contact with the white haired man. Why you weren’t sure, but you knew well enough to trust your gut.

The streets were empty save from some drunk business men and a couple of students. The asphalt was wet from the earlier rain making the light from the neon signs that adorned the many buildings, reflecting in the water like liquid gemstones. Tokyo really was a beautiful city. A taxi drove by causing water from the puddles to splash onto your clothing. You cursed after it in anger.

A gachapon machine caught your eye. You had been on the lookout for a new Sanrio keychain.

You inserted some coins and turned the wheel. Out popped a light pink plastic ball. You opened it with eagerness. My Melody. You smiled as you studied the little pink keychain.

The sound of footsteps snapped you out of your little trance. You turned around and you almost dropped your keychain at the sight of the white haired man. His pale eyes scanning your features. Emotions you couldn’t place swirled within his eyes.

“Cute keychain” his voice playful.

“Thank you” your voice low. Your eyes darted across the street. The man in front of you have you a bad feeling and you wanted nothing more than to leave.

As if noticing your discomfort he spoke. “I take it that you’re heading home?” he took a step closer. “So am i” his eyes almost hypnotising you in their endless blues.

You knew you should’ve just kept quiet and walked away, but something compelled you to answer him truthfully. “Yeah I am” you couldn’t avert your gaze form his.

His smile widened. “Want to walk together? It gets dangerous at night , you know” his grin sharp. “I am Gojo Satoru, but you can call me Satoru” he winked.

“Okay… I am [Name]” you forced a smile. He didn’t comment on you not sharing your last name, but his eyes narrowed slightly in disappointment.

“What a beautiful man” he hummed. His hand snaked around yours as he dragged you away from the gachapon machine. His hold on you tight.

You two walked down the street in silence. You had asked him how he knew to way to your home, but he only brushed you off. Your intuition told you to not question him further. His hold on your arm didn’t waver one bit.

The sky suddenly opened and rain poured down on the street. Satoru quickly dragged you underneath the roof of a bus shed. “My place isn’t too far away” his eyes flickered to your neck and then back up.

You hesitated. It was not wise to follow a stranger to his home and especially when he gave off such unnerving vibes. “I’m not too sure if I should…”

At your hesitation his eyes darkened. “Why not? You’ll get sick out here. Plus it’s only till the rain stops” he pulled you closer. Too close. You could feel his breath fan against your face.

You swallowed as you weighed your possibilities.

“Come oooon… I can make you some hot chocolate if you would like? I really pride myself with being the best hot chocolate maker I know” he chuckled. His blue eyes glinting with mischief.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his weird comment. “Hot chocolate does sound good…” you were quite cold even though it was summer. The rain that poured endless only made you shiver more.

You don’t know how he managed to fully convince you, but he did. His flat was a penthouse and huge. It was filled with different luxuries and beautiful paintings adorned the walls. The interior was a fine mixture of traditional Japanese design and dark classical style. In a way he had made it work, and beautifully so.

Satoru was busy making hot chocolate while you took in your surroundings. You hadn’t asked what his profession was and you wondered that maybe he was one of those who didn’t have to work.

“Here you go” his jovial voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

Satoru had made two cups with hot chocolate topped with cream and marshmallows. It smelled heavenly and you couldn’t help but sigh. “It looks so good!”

He chuckled as he clinked his mug against yours. You took a sip and your senses was overwhelmed by the delicious taste. It was truly the best hot chocolate you had ever had.

“Wow! This is amazing!” your tongue darted out to lick away the cream that had formed on your upper lips.

The white haired man chuckled at you excitement as he took a sip himself. “I am glad you liked it. As I said, I am truly the best hot chocolate maker” he winked playfully.

“Your flat is really nice” you waved your hand in the air.

His smile widened and your eyes caught what resembled sharp fangs. “Thank you. It’s one of my prized possessions” his voice melodic and his charm otherworldly.

Before you knew it your mug was empty and you were feeling rather sluggish. You and Satoru had talked about all and nothing and he was exceptionally easy to talk with.

Your eyes felt heavy and you leaned your head against your arm that rested on the kitchen table. Your back fell limp against the kitchen chair and the last you saw before your mind slipped into unconsciousness was the icy eyes of Satoru.

Your eyes fluttered open at the feeling of a cold breath fanning over your neck. You were met with the sight of snow white hair that tickled your cheek. Satoru. You suddenly snapped out of your haziness as you sat up in what you now noticed was his black couch.

He laughed softly against your neck. “You finally regained your senses, huh? Good. I want you to be awake” his voice deep.

You blinked in confusion at his words. “What is going on? What are you doing?” anxiety laced in your words.

Satoru slowly rose his head. His eyes boring into yours with a whirlpool of emotions. “You are so adorable when confused. Ya know when I saw you tonight, I had to use all my strength to hold back. It’s really dangerous going around and being so goddamn cute. So careless” he sighed with a lazy smile. His large hand gently cupped your cheek. His thumb ran over your slightly trembling lips.

“Sator-”

“Shushhhhh” he pressed his thumb hard on your lips.

With a blink of an eye he pinned you flat against the couch, his mouth hovering over you neck. Your heart was beating fast as you cried out.

“Don’t worry darling. I mean you no harm. If I did you wouldn’t have found yourself here. If anything I am more like your guardian angel” he smiled down at you with a gentle smile that almost made you forget everything.

You could hear him inhale which was accompanied by a sigh. “God you smell so good…” his voice a low groan.

“What are you doing?” your voice was weak with panic laced within each word. You were shivering as you tried to regain your strength.

“Something I have wanted to do for months” he chuckled slightly.

A sudden pain exploded your nerves as he dug his fanged teeth hard into your neck. You cried out as you tried to push him away. You could feel him sucking your blood from your wound. It was a feeling you had never experienced.

Gojo chuckled at your attempts of pushing him off. “There’s no way you would ever manage to push me off. Though I must say your attempts are rather cute” he said before he dove back in with his teeth.

He drank from you for what felt like an eternity. After a while he slowly pulled away. His icy eyes looked back at you with hooded lids as he wiped away the blood that coated his chin with the back of his hand. “You taste so much better than what I imagined” he sighed as he licked his lips.

A cold hand stroked your cheek in a soothing manner. “To think that I almost let somebody else have you… Now that would just be foolish” he tilted his head.

“I should just keep you here. For all eternity. Wouldn’t that be lovely?” his smile soft and his eyes filled with love that ran deeper than the deepest sea.

[amandabbbbb]

summary: stalker!rafe who saves pogue surfer!reader from the obx storm!

tw: stalker!rafe, dark!rafe but that’s just him tho, a storm, idk anything about boats or surfing

word count: 564

you were used to big waves. surfing is your life. you are no professional but you thought you could handle the obxs storms waves but turns out the roughness of the salt water was too much for you.

“hey hey it’s not safe out there come here i can help you get home,” a tall man yelled from his yacht, reaching out a hand for you. you felt stupid being out in a storm. when you lost the pogues and got pushed out to sea you knew your idea had become deadly so the strangers help might save you.

“here lemme help you. you are way too delicate to be out here in these tough waves, pretty girl,” rafe smirked, pulling you out of the water.

“i’m fine but i guess i’m used to smaller waves,” you said with an insecure giggle. “i’m y/n. um i live on the cut. you said you could get me home?” you said with a nervous smile, never meeting this handsome man before.

“why don’t you stay a while y/n? i got fresh clothes that you can wear and beer and snacks if you’re hungry. seriously whatever you want. i’m rafe.”

rafe was so excited to be around you. he’d been watching you surf from his yacht for months. staring at your body from a far wasn’t doing it for him anymore so when you took off your wetsuit rafe audibly moaned, standing up fast and coughing staring at your body in the pink bikini he only saw from a far distance.

“thanks, rafe but i need to get home. you’re really sweet but my friends will be worried since i got pulled into sea by the waves.” rafe made a fast excuse looking out on the horizon.

“i don’t think my boat will make it to shore. it’s just pouring now and it uh l-looks real bad. we um should probably just stay out here for the night.”

“are you sure because i think a yacht this huge can handle a storm like this.” you laughed staring at him confused.

“you think you know yachts y/n? you’re a pogue, stick to your surfboard,” rafe said laughing. you didn’t like his obnoxious joke but brushed it off.

“ya whatever, i’m a pogue. so what? can i get some clothes? i’m about to turn into a ice cube.” you rolled your eyes while walking down to the cabin exploring the living space of the boat. it was a scene straight out of a frat house nightmare, old beer cans and porn magazines.

amongst the clutter, a picture caught your eye: a girl in a pink bikini, surfing on a vibrant wave, laid provocatively on his bed. you reached out to inspect it, but he snatched it away before you could get a closer look “umm so you live here, rafe?”

“does it matter?” rafe frowned as you put on his old shirt and sarah’s sweatpants over your bikini, you asked “no but um where am i gonna sleep stranger? you know this is a major stranger danger situation right now.” you laughed, pointing at the both of you.

he smirked at your bubbly personality that he’d seen from afar as he would watch you at kook and pogue bonfire parties.

“next to me,” rafe said, watching your every movement. “no, that’d be weird. i don’t even know you. i’ll sleep on the couch, it’s no big deal,” you said so casually. mad at your rejection, rafe stood up, hovering over you.

“just seriously y/n. you can trust me ok? just stay in the bed with me, it’s cold out,” rafe said with intensity. as you noticed his blue eyes getting darker and his body getting closer, he gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “you know,” he whispered, his voice sending ripples of unease through you, “you always fidget with your necklace when you’re nervous, your fingers trace its outline when you’re anxious.”

your heart skipped a beat. how did he know about that? it was like he could read your mind. feeling exposed, you backed away. his gaze locked into yours, making you feel vulnerable and like he had uncovered parts of you that were meant to stay hidden. you noticed the storm seemed to be calming down since rafe pulled you up on the cameron’s yacht. a perfect getaway.

“you know what uh i- i can handle these waves. don’t worry about me. thanks for helping me though,” you said as you bent over to pick up your wetsuit and surfboard. he grabbed your bicep forcefully pulling you up. he thought of every excuse but couldn’t manage to create one.

“no, no you can’t leave ok.” rafe stated, grabbing you by the wrist firmly. “yo dude, don’t fucking touch me. i don’t even know you.” as you scoff at him, you look deep into his blue eyes and recognize him, letting his rough hands grip onto your waist. you couldn’t put your finger on where from.

“dont fucking dude me. god you are such a pogue. y’know you do know me. i’m rafe. i’m someone you can trust y/n. imma proactive person. if i wasn’t there to help you get out of those waves who knows what could’ve happened to you. i protect you. i’ve been protecting you for months for fucks sake and you don’t appreciate me.”

a/n: idk maybe a part 2 is needed??? send me ur thots!

[perenlop]

oc animatic id love to make but with my motivation i cant really do it is a “bruno is orange” one with castor and his parents

[letorip]

i heard your name [ii]

“i want you so, i can hardly let you go, please be mine for a time, now and forever”

===+++===

pairing: cairo sweet x reader

summary: after several weeks of trying to run in the opposite direction, you find you can no longer evade the magnetic pull yanking you towards her

warnings: explicit but gender neutral sexual content, being used both physically and emotionally, 'lover boy' is used ironic and is still considered gender neutral, implied teacher-student relationships

word count: 6.4k

A/N: definitely making another already because it’s kind of getting juicy. again inspired by pale fire and hot summer nights.

===+++===

You had always heard that people looked like their pets, but it had never occurred to you that someone could look like their house. Standing in front of Lovell Hill, it was impossible anyone else but Cairo Sweet lived there.

The building stood tall, with white towering ionic columns that reached to hold up the dark clay tile roofing like soft angelic hands lifted to the sky. Everything about the house was big, with a giant, wide cedar porch and a towering balcony that looked out over the small garden in front of its door.

You had figured Cairo was well off from her clothes and general overabundance of education, but this screamed a wealth so extreme it almost wasn’t computing in your brain. Not with your own tawdry house that had only been built two years ago and was about the size of Cairo’s home if you sliced it by a quarter.

You had seen homes like these in movies or on the home improvement channels. Most motels had the home improvement channels on the TV, and you had watched with a sense of awe, sitting on the mouldy carpet late at night with your mom asleep behind you, looking at the muted tours of the homes with a private envy.

Such grandeur was incomprehensible and didn’t exist beyond the screen and TV magic. Or, that’s what you thought until you stood at the end of her garden, with all its greenery and a few lines of flowers, looking up at the front door.

It was quite the dilemma, to knock or not to knock. You could turn around right now, save yourself a whole bunch of sleepless nights and half a brain if you just told her you felt sick and had to cancel. She’d be annoyed, sure, but maybe Cairo being angry was better than Cairo being hungry.

You weren’t all too sure you wouldn’t try to satiate her hunger, and that was a dangerous game to play. Since she had sat down beside you in class, fleeting had been slowly drifting away, and you found yourself clutching onto what little of it you had left, rebuking the witchcraft that seemed to tug you to her.

You were about to do that, walk away, but then the door to the balcony swung open, and out Cairo came, leaning over the railing with a smile, and you felt your own heart clutch to your ribs. She propped her head up on her palm, peering down at you.

“Are you coming in?” She asked, laughing. “You’ve been standing there for ten minutes.”

“I’m just looking. At the landscaping,” you called up to her, and it was mostly true, though Cairo laughed like you were being funny. You felt a blush rising to your cheeks. Fleeting, you idiot.

“It’s my parents’ house. I know it’s a bit much,” said Cairo, standing up straighter.

“A bit?” you said, the sarcasm worming its way into your voice. It was a lot much.

“Yeah,” she replied, smiling at you again all bright. “A bit.” You smiled back, holding a hand up to cover your eyes so you could continue to stare at her on the balcony in the sun, like your own Juliet.

“Can I come inside?” You asked, taking a few steps forward into the shadow the roof of her house casted over the ground. Cairo seemed to find a playfulness with the question, and you were left there like a moron, wondering why she was laughing again.

“No, actually,” she said. “I invited you here to make you walk over here and then walk home.”

“Did you."

“I did,” she nodded, having fun. “I’ll be down in a minute when I’m done with something; the front door is unlocked."

"That seems unsafe," you said.

She raised her eyebrows at you. "Why, are you worried for my safety?"

You shrugged, deciding neutrality was the best policy. There wasn't anything wrong with saying you were worried about her as a friend, but you knew she would draw some strange entendre. "I would worry about random people wandering in, to be honest."

Cairo shook her head. "Not here in Tennessee. Now go inside. The longer you stall me the longer it takes me to finish what I'm doing." With that, she disappeared back inside, leaving you on her porch. You swallowed the lump in your throat and went inside.

Cairo Sweet's house was much like her soul, in grandeur and in wealth. Even in the foyer, which was where you found yourself, the walls seemed to reach up much like the pillars, raised towards the covered sky. A grand staircase led up to the second floor, and with the soft closing of the door behind you, Cairo called out from up the stairs.

"You can go into the kitchen, I left some wine out on the counter."

You blinked. "Wine?" You said back, making sure you were hearing correctly. Cairo's laugh floated down from the second floor.

"Yes, 'wine.'" You had never had anything like wine before, though the way she threw it out so casually made you think she was no stranger to the concept.

The kitchen was the room right off to the left of the foyer, with a large bay window and some checkered ceramic tiling on the floor. In the centre sat an old gas range stove, a similar shade of green as the walls. The brass handle curved down to the drawer on the bottom, and it looked like a droll little mouth underneath the knobs.

On the white marbled countertop that boxed the stove in was a set of two glasses and a bottle of reddish wine that was three quarters full. The entire room was immaculately clean, with the perfectly angled chairs sitting around the nook table in the corner and the utterly spotless surfaces, both floor and table.

It looked just like those staged houses on the home improvement channels, and you wandered over to peer into the glass hutch, which was piled up with books in stacks around it. The top cabinet held an array of glassware, some of them gathering dust. They were pretty, and you leaned in to the ceramic ones with antique designs etched into the sides. You wanted to own dishes like those, someday.

"The plates are pretty, aren't they? It’s a real shame about the led.” You spun around to find Cairo behind you. Your heart immediately started doing a backflip in your chest. Cairo was no longer in the soft shirt and shorts she had been wearing on her balcony— no. Instead, she was now in a silky cream-coloured dress, one that clung to the curves of her body and hung elegantly from her shoulders in a way that made the tips of your ears warm.

She walked right up to you as if there was no difference, staring at the plate you had been looking at with what couldn't possibly be a genuine curiosity. Up close it was clear she had put on some makeup, her lips glossy and pink and her eyes dark. She had to know she was playing you like a fiddle.

You watched her in laser focus as she nodded at the plate. "My parents bought that one from a village in the Swiss Alps."

"What?" you mumbled, clever as always.

"The plate," she said, like it was obvious. "Most of the plates in there are from Switzerland or China."

"Oh...cool."

Cairo brushed past it, gesturing back to the bottle that sat on the counter. "Would you like some?" she asked, clasping her hands behind her back.

"But what would your parents say?" you asked. Mostly you were looking for any excuse not to, but you were also filled with curiosity. Cairo Sweet hadn't just fallen out of a coconut tree— she was the product of whatever her parents were like and you desired to put two and two together, and for that to make it make sense.

"They're not here right now," she replied, walking right over to the bottle and pulling the cork straight out. You swallowed but followed her over, and Cairo grabbed a glass to pour it into.

"So you live here?" It was a genuine question, and part of you was still struggling to understand that this was just someone's everyday lifestyle. Cairo nodded.

"That's what Winnie asked me too, when she first saw it. People say my house is haunted."

"They do?"

"Yeah," she said. "Lovell Hill. It's famous, or at least around here it is."

"Well... is it true?"

Cairo shook her head. "Sorry to disappoint. Only thing that lives here is me."

"And your parents?"

Her mouth thinned into a line at the question, but she spoke quickly. "Yes, them too." Then Cairo held up a glass. "Would you like some?"

"Uh, no thanks. We should probably start on the assignment...," you trailed off. Cairo was staring you down with a certain glint in her eye. “What?”

"You've never drank before," she said. It wasn't a question, and you could feel heat going back to your face. To any other person, you'd have no problem saying no, but to her you felt your breath catch in your throat.

"Uh, I have, I just don't want any right now," you lied. And Cairo knew you were lying, judging from the smile she watched you with. But she only shrugged.

"You can have some of mine later, then," she said, straightening up and walking out of the kitchen. You followed her like a proper guest, like she was a tour guide helping you through the jungle. You warily tailed her out of there and up the stairs.

On the landing there were even more books, in large, towering stacks near the railing, ended on each side by potted plants and small floor decorations. You stopped, taking a thick paperback from off the top of one stack and turning it over to read the back. “Have you really read all of these?” You asked. Cairo turned.

“Not all of them, no. Most of them belong to my parents, so they’re cheesy spy thrillers and soapy romances.”

You nodded. “My mom reads those ones too.”

“Anyways, what do you read?” Cairo asked, walking over to you and taking the book from your hands to look at it herself. You shrugged.

“For a while there, anything I could get my hands on.”

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Uh, just that my mother didn't take me to bookstores a lot," you said, having gotten comfortable with lying. In reality, you had mostly read travel books and magazines from gas stations, since those were really the only places you and your mother stopped often. You didn't start actually reading book-books until you were about ten, and your mom bought you a kindle for your birthday.

But giving Cairo the truth would mean telling her you were on the road a lot, which would mean telling her about why it was you moved so often, which would mean telling her you would probably be leaving soon, so you lied. It was typically a better idea to vanish without warning one day, off to another state like you had been one giant bad dream.

"Mm," she hummed it agreement, putting the book back down and leading the way into a door that stood at the far end of the hall. "My parents didn't either, when they realised I bought like ten or twelve at a time," she said, tugging you into her bedroom.

It was exactly like you could have imagined it, with a darker shade of green and ebony wainscoting that matched the grand bed in the middle of the room with fluffy, lush bedding and a near mountain of pillows in the centre.

"Well then," Cairo drawled. "Shall we?"

The smirk she was staring at you with sent a shiver down your spine. You gave her a cautious nod and pulled your backpack off of your back.

===+++===

You had your paper almost completely done within an hour of laying down on Cairo's bed to write it, though in the corner where Cairo sat typing hers, she seemed incredibly frustrated. You had only been observing her a little, watching her type what could've maybe been a few words and then immediately holding down the delete key until they were all gone.

You understood to a certain extent— windows were so unbelievably symbolic it was possible to go in millions of directions when writing your story. But you were almost done, and inspiration had hit you from the moment you knew what your symbol was meant to be.

You put the final finishing sentences in where they were meant to go, and put down your pen, sitting up to crack your fingers and stretch your back. Cairo looked up at you, eyes glaring.

"You're finished?" Her tone was sharp, and you looked around the room in surprise.

"Yeah?" You replied. Cairo narrowed her eyes at you.

"How," she demanded sitting up in her chair and slamming her laptop shut.

You shrugged. "I don't know, I kind of rushed it anyhow."

"Let me read it, (Y/n)," Cairo said, holding her hand out. You leaned forwards and tossed the paper to her, rolling over onto your back to stare up at the ceiling while she read it. She had one of those popcorn roofs, with bumps all over it, and you found yourself tracing a little path in your mind.

"This is..." she said after a few minutes. You turned your head to look at her sideways. "This is really good," said Cairo, but in a way that made your eyebrows furrow.

"Why'd you say it like that?" you asked, sitting up from where you had been laying.

"Like what?" She asked standing up from her chair and walking towards you, to lean on one of the bedposts. You swallowed.

"I... don't know," you muttered.

"Hm," she hummed. "I have a question."

"Yeah?"

"The astronaut. The one who goes crazy in outer space from looking out the window on his solo mission. Is that supposed to be you?"

"Oh. No, he isn't. He's just a character I thought of," you shook your head. Cairo raised an eyebrow at you.

"But he is a lot like you, isn't he? Alone, I mean. That's why you lied to Winnie about lunch." She got you with that line. You stared at her, frowning. Your mind screamed LIE over and over, but you knew there was no point. Not when she was reading you like a book. She took another step towards you, until she was standing in between your legs where you sat. You hadn't realised there was any connection with the astronaut when you thought of him, but maybe he was?

"Are you lonely, (Y/n)?"

"No? I mean, I don't think I am." It came out in a whisper; you didn't need to speak loudly when Cairo was so close. You could feel her hot breath on your cheeks like a fan.

"I've been thinking of you, since you arrived," Cairo murmured. Her fingers crawled up your knee slowly, the pads of her fingers brushing the hem of your shorts. She looked down at the small space between you.

"Yeah?" You asked.

"You're captivating," she said. "It's annoying. Shrouded in mystery and answering to no one."

"Yeah?" Pink was flushing towards your cheeks.

She smiled, looking up at your face again. "Yeah. It would be less distracting if you didn't come with such nice eyes."

You swallowed. It felt like everywhere her fingers went she left behind a trail of pure fire, churning up your insides. Your mind was screaming at you to not be an idiot. You'd probably regret this in a month or two when your mom told you you would be leaving again. Stop, right now and save yourself so much sleep, you idiot. That would've been the smart thing to do.

Her hands came up slowly, skimming gently up your neck until they landed at the nape, and you were reminded of the lollipop she had plucked from your lips to place in her own for a moment.

"Cairo, what're we doing?" you managed. Cairo shrugged.

"You ask me that but I'm not entirely sure. I just know it feels nice," she whispered to you. "So shut up and let me feel nice," she said with a smile.

Within an instant, her lips pressed hard into your own. You pulled your head back in surprise but Cairo's soft palms held you firmly where you sat, and you found yourself melting at the feeling. It was messy and it wasn't graceful, but it spoke of the passion that bubbled under Cairo's removed exterior. She started to move against you then, and you against her.

You found yourself entranced at the sensation, and pulled away just to get a look at her face. She was breathing heavily, lips red and eyes wild, and you only came back wanting more, reconnecting the both of you, your hands moving to her waist and then up her back.

"Cairo..." you mumbled, her lips moving to your jaw and then hastily to your ear.

"Mm," she hummed.

"Cairo, I can't," you managed, trying to pull away but finding her still on you. Your mind was yelling at you horrible, horrible things, not only about yourself but about what you wanted to do to her.

"Mm," she sounded again, moving down your neck in a way that left you tingly.

"Really, I just—"

"Take my hands off of you, then," she challenged, in between peppering kisses and sucking on a spot directly over your pulse. You shivered.

"I can't."

"Well, I guess we're at a crossroads," she said. Her right hand slid down your chest to the hem of your shirt, sliding gently underneath and laying itself flat against your stomach. She smirked when she reconnected your lips, knowing she was winning.

"This is a really bad idea."

"You talk too much."

"No, because this is really a conflict of interest. We're supposed to uh..." you stammered, getting distracted by he hand on your stomach slowly getting lower and lower, creeping towards the top of your shorts. "We're supposed read each other's stuff and be honest."

Cairo stopped, pulling away, raising her eyebrows at you. "Are you serious? You don't want to have sex with me —when you've been practically eye-fucking me since we met— so that you can be an honest peer grader???"

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds stupid."

"That's because it is stupid."

"I— I just can't do that with someone."

She scoffed. "Are you waiting until marriage or something?"

"No."

"Are you asexual?"

"No."

"Is it Winnie?"

"No."

"Do you like boys?"

"No!"

"Then why? I mean, come on. We both knew this would end one of two ways."

"We're better off as just classmates, trust me."

Cairo blinked at you for a moment, like you were the most confusing person she had ever met. Then she got up off of you. Your lap felt lighter, but also emptier, and you wanted to scream up at the stars for not being able to just indulge this one little desire.

"Fine," she said, and her tone caught you off guard. Most people would probably be upset or angry, but it just seemed like Cairo was challenged and endeared. Like she was going to work out your problem and get right back to this situation, only this time she'd get exactly as she wanted.

She wouldn't, you promised yourself. Never ever. The heartbreak wasn't worth it. Cairo checked her watch. "Could you come over tomorrow too? I'm not done with my story yet, and I want you to read it."

"Uh," you thought out loud. You didn't see why not. Maybe you wouldn't be lovers, but just innocent friends? You weren't so much a monster that you wouldn't be able to stop yourself if you hung out with her. Innocent friends were much easier to forget anyways. "Sure," you said, unknowingly giving her exactly what she wanted.

===+++===

You had gone to her house almost every night for the past week, laying on her bed while she sat in the corner in the same familiar chair, typing the same bloody story that she refused to be satisfied with. It was becoming a pattern, even an unconscious one. The next day had been entirely as awkward as expected, with you trying to act as unbothered as possible.

The friendship was going better than you had anticipated, and you were very pleased with your own self restraint. Winnie had come over too, once or twice, and you enjoyed existing within the context but still on the periphery of a friendship.

Cairo Sweet would hunt you down as her friend or as her whatever-you-were, so you figured giving into one would be the path of least resistance anyhow.

She must have been an insanely picky writer. She wrote every word with an overabundant caution, like she was trying so hard to craft perfection. It was like she wanted her keyboard to drip liquid gold onto the page, and the critics to all collectively clap when she finished a sentence.

"You're like George R. R. Martin with how slow you finish a story," you had said once, out of the blue. Cairo looked up at you, offended, and thrown a pillow in your direction that connected with your face.

"I'm trying to cultivate perfection of the written word," she said, and you rolled your eyes.

"God, writers are so pretentious," you wrinkled your nose. "The only people who like to read annoying writers' books are annoying people."

Cairo scoffed. "Yeah, what, you want to be surrounded by James Bond fans? Stephen King fanboys?"

"That's cool, though," you shrugged. "Gets the point across, isn't badly written, and makes a sometimes beautiful passage along the way."

"Oh, so your writing," she joked, smiling at you. It was an innocent smile, and one that so starkly contrasted the lustful one she had looked at you with only a few days ago. Even in memory, her eyes sent a shiver up your spine.

"Yeah, well, people seem to like it. I guess I’m doing something right," you said. Cairo frowned.

"I don't get it," she shook her head. "And you still won't let me read that first one you wrote."

"It's not exactly something I want to talk about to you."

"Why? Is it bad?" she asked, sitting up straight. You knew she meant 'tell me your dirty secrets' by that.

"I just don't want to."

"Hm," she grumbled, laying back in the chair. "And anyways, if what you say about that thing is true, I don't know why Miller liked it. His book is full of the flowery stuff you complain about."

"He wrote a book???" You were incredulous.

Cairo nodded. "A while ago. Apostrophes and Ampersands."

"Never heard of it."

Cairo shrugged. "It didn't exactly make massive waves. It was ingenious though. Grand and tragic."

"You read it then?" You asked, sitting up and turning towards her.

"Yes, I did," she replied nonchalantly. "I enjoyed it."

You looked out the window for a moment, then back to her. Friends should be friends. "Can I borrow your copy?"

===+++===

"God," you groaned, reading Mr. Miller's book with it held over your head, laying on your back. Cairo had given it to you two days ago and now you were slogging through it, waiting for it to get interesting. "'Human ruins of a madman's love,'" you mocked.

"It's gorgeous," Cairo said. She wasn't in her usual chair, she was sitting by the window with it cracked open, a cigarette in her hand.

"It's not— wait, are you smoking?" You asked, sitting up. Cairo rolled her eyes, grinning at you.

"No, I'm just sitting here with a cigarette lit in my fingers."

"God. Wine and a cigarette, what are you, thirty-four."

"Shut up," she said, putting the cigarette in between her lips and puffing out the window. "And anyways that quote is beautiful."

"Maybe," you challenged. "But what is it actually saying?"

"She means everything to him and he's going crazy for her," Cairo said, like it was obvious. You nodded.

"That's the thought and THAT'S what's good there. That's universal. He's losing the plot— getting lost in the sauce— of trying to sound like he's saying something, to the point where he's losing the entire meat of the message."

"Maybe," said Cairo. "But you said one of your books was If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Not exactly the height of literature."

"And I stand by that," You said. "That's actually enjoyable. You don't enjoy reading this, you enjoy being clever enough to read this, when it's saying something you've heard a million times in a million more decipherable ways. And those ways end up being more beautiful, too.”

"Perhaps," she said. "Or maybe I think the writing is beautiful."

"Well then, I think you're crazy."

"You're welcome to do that," Cairo replied, smile still wide. "You probably will."

===+++===

You managed not to cave until a warmer day, about a week after that. Cairo Sweet had previously been a sweet exterior with absolutely nothing on the inside for you to feel a deep pull towards. Only now, after slowly becoming comfortable, was the magnetic pull becoming physically painful.

Winnie had been absolutely beside herself, miffed at Cairo coming down and swiping you for herself. For a friend or for something more, it didn't matter. You were indisputably hers. And after a life of belonging to no one, you thought maybe Cairo took some sort of glee over making you belong to her.

Class was boring, Mr. Miller was fine, your mom seemed to be doing better, and school seemed to drone on. So when you came back to Cairo's house like normal, you were entirely unaware of how quickly you would fail your mission.

You were barely in door before she was running down the stairs, and the look of worry and surprise in your face only worsened when she got so up close to you, just for a second, and then just as hungry and hurriedly as before, kissed you with a brutal ferocity.

You were taken aback. Something was off. You pulled your head away and Cairo's palms pressed to your cheeks, thumbs brushing against the side of your face. She pulled you back and you had to turn your head away. "Cairo, what—"

"Shut up for once, please. Just kiss me the way a girl wants to be kissed."

You could feel every neuron telling you to get away from her. This was exactly what you had said you didn't want. And then there was the other side of you. The one that wanted to take her right then and then. You swallowed.

"I can't do these kinds of connections, Cairo. I told you."

"That's fine," Cairo rushed, her hand resting on your shoulder blade now. "I need one thing from you, and that's it. I don't ask for much, but I really need this."

Your eyebrows furrowed at her. "What are you talking about?"

"You've said you don't want anything, and okay, that’s fine. At least give me your body for the night. No strings attached.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I don’t owe you anything, you don’t owe me. We just do whatever this is. You make me feel good, and that’s it.” Her fingers had slithered back up to your hair, scratching gently at your scalp in a way that pulled your focus.

It just took a final glance at her face, for the dam to break. Her cheeks were a dusty red, eyes dilated and staring at you, and though you cursed yourself and your idiot Cro-Magnon mind, your palms went to her legs, tugging her up harshly and wrapping her legs around your waist.

“Shit,” you muttered, highly aware this was probably a bad idea. Cairo wrapped her arms around your neck, kissing you with a smile, and then once that broke, a passionate fervour. It was so much but it was so good. You carried her like that, up the stairs to her room, throwing her down on the bed.

She flipped you over, sitting on your lap like she had been back when the both of you first tried this, and it was all too intoxicating. Cairo’s hands went to your shoulders, pushing you back against the mattress before she leaned over, kissing you softly for a moment until it grew into more.

“Wait—” You said, and Cairo sat up, glaring at you.

“You did not get me all the way up here just to back out now,” said Cairo, annoyed beyond belief. You shook your head, tugging her back onto you. Her hair fell around you like a shield to your little private moment.

“I’m not backing out,” you promised, whispering because you felt like you didn’t want to be too loud. “I mean I’ve never … before.”

Cairo smiled at you, looking into your eyes for a moment. “Me neither,” she whispered back.

“Really?” you asked. Cairo raised her eyebrows.

“Fuck you.”

“No,” you shook your head, hand reaching up to move some of her hair out of her face. That wasn’t how you meant it. “…Really?”

She paused, eyes boring into yours. Then she gently nodded, and lowered herself down onto you, placing her lips on yours for another divine moment. It was all too hot in there. She let out a gasp when you tugged down her skirt.

===+++===

It was about five weeks after you had arrived, and you had gone to Cairo's house almost every week day, to continue exactly what had latched around your throat and tugged you harshly towards her.

There, in the milky white lighting of Cairo's table lamp, with her body snugly laying back against you and her book out in front of her, you fell in love for the first time. Really, fell in love.

Not the kind of "love" that swirls around your head as a child and wraps around the leg of the pretty girl in your class who has shiny hair. That kind of “love” where you can't get out a real sentence while talking to her. In comparison to the heavy feeling growing in your chest like a tumour, that was a mild liking.

No, this was the real thing. Adults had always said cryptic things about love, like "when you know, you'll know," and it hadn't ever really made sense, until it did.

As you looked down to watch her nose scrunch from the Nabokov, those three little words took on a whole new meaning. Her dark hair tickled the bare skin of your chest where she laid. Unlike her you still hadn't put your shirt back on, and you shivered a bit, even from under her blanket and her body heat. Her eyes, dark and focused, scanned across the paper, before elegantly flipping past the page with her thumb.

It was one of those renaissance paintings people cried for, in the Louvre, only it was playing out right in front of your eyes. And with that sudden rush of messy emotion, came the dastardly realisation that you were truly fucked.

"You're staring," she said, pulling you from your thoughts. She looked up at you, curious eyes focusing on your own. "What're you staring for?"

You shrugged, the movement shaking her against you. "What's the book you're reading?" You asked. "You seem mad at it."

She hummed, leaving her finger as a bookmark and flipping the cover towards you. The cover read Pale Fire. "That's because it's mostly incoherent rambling," she said. "Makes no sense."

You raised your eyebrows at her. "You don't understand Pale Fire?"

She tilted her head back, challenging you. “And you do?" You nodded. You had written a report during the two months you were in Maine. "Of course you do,” Cairo groaned, rolling her eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked.

Cairo shook her head, patting the side of your leg with her free hand. “Nothing.”

You sat up. “No, seriously. What do you mean?”

She sighed, closing the book around her index finger to hold her page. Cairo shut her eyes for a second, choosing her words carefully. “I mean... you’re annoyingly clever at something you don’t really care about.”

You laughed. "Careful, Sweet. If I didn't know any better I'd say you're jealous."

"Well, I am," said Cairo. "I care about writing so much, and here you come along with literally no passion for it, and you're out-writing me."

"Uh, sorry?" You said with a smile. But the frown you saw on her face told you she wasn't really joking. Cairo scoffed, sitting up and turning towards you.

"No, I'm serious. You barely even try and you spill some amazing few paragraphs, and Mr. Miller loves you like you're his favourite student," she lamented, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"I promise," you sighed, "that I really don't mean to. I don't get it either, so—"

"—See, but that's what's so frustrating!" She cut you off. "You don't mean to. You don't mean to get in my way, but you do because you're so unbelievably perfect at everything, and Mr. Miller loves you so much."

"Okay, wait a minute," you said. "That's not fair."

"What's 'not fair' is me working my ass off until senior year to get to do what I've ALWAYS wanted to do, WRITE, and then you come along and pull all the praise and probably the recommendation letter too!"

You sat there for a moment, taking her words in, your mouth open in surprise. There had always been an inkling that Cairo was unhappy with having you in her class, but you had drowned the thought out with her lips on yours and treasuring every moment you made her smile with something stupid you said.

You cleared your throat and Cairo was already apologising. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," she said, reaching towards you. "It's just so important to me, I get really worked up..."

"It's fine," you rushed. You knew people screamed and said nasty stuff when they were mad. It's just how people were, and it made sense to you. Your mom was like that too, with the yelling and stuff. "Do you..." you mumbled, trying to figure out how to solve her problem. "Do you want me to stop trying?" You asked.

Cairo's eyes lit up within an instant at the idea. "That would be amazing," she breathed. "Thank you so much." She reached across the space between you, kissing with a softness that hadn't previously been there. It was sweet, just like she was, and you breathed a sigh of relief, with the confrontation being over.

You nodded. "Sure." Then your gaze went out the window, realising the sun was starting to set and rain clouds were starting to form. Your hand flew to your leg, having forgotten you were only in your underwear.

"You left it downstairs, remember?" Cairo said, almost playful. When the two of you had gotten to her house, her lips had been so firmly ravaging your neck that your pants hadn't even made it up the stairs before she tugged them off and flung them to the marble bust that stood nearby. You sighed.

"Do you know what time it is?" You asked, getting up from the bed and around to the other side to pick your shirt up off the floor. Cairo also got up, throwing the sheets off herself and walking right over to her closet.

"No, I left my phone at school on accident," she replied, opening the door and flicking through the hangers. You pulled the shirt on over your head and fixed the soft collar. On the opposite side of the room, Cairo pulled out the same cream-coloured dress she had been wearing when you first came to study with her. You paused.

"You're getting all fancy?" You asked, turning to her floor mirror and attempting to fix your absolutely messy hair in a way that it wouldn't be clear Cairo had run her hands through it and gripped on tight.

"Mhm," Cairo said. "Having a guest over tonight."

"Oh. They work with your parents or something?" You said, turning to watch her with curiosity over her answer. Cairo pulled off her shirt so that she was now completely naked. She turned back to you with a smile.

"Do you like what you see?" said Cairo, and it made you blush a bit. You nodded.

"You're absolutely beautiful," you said. If you weren't worried about getting home before dinner, you would have walked right over to her and tugged her back into her bed. Cairo waved you off.

"You're too kind," she said. "Now run on home, lover boy." Cairo disappeared into the bathroom with the dress in her hand, and you heard her rustling around with the sink, probably doing her makeup.

"I... I guess I'll see you, then," you said, left alone in the room.

"Mhm," she called from the bathroom. You frowned, but did a final scan for anything you needed to take before heading out her bedroom door and down the stairs, to where your jeans were clumsily thrown over the Roman statue's head. You tugged your phone and keys from the pocket.

"Fuck," you cursed. Only around thirty minutes to get the whole way across town to your house before your mom started worrying. You walked right over to the door... only to find it was also pouring down rain, now. Dammit. You tugged on your jacket from where it had been hanging on a steel coatrack by the door, pulling the hood up.

You walked out onto the porch, shut the door behind you, and took off running, going as fast as you could down the garden and then up the street into the woods. You got about a hundred metres from her house, that was, until you stopped.

Driving right past you, barely able to see him in the storm, was Mr. Miller. Driving right to Cairo's house in his little sedan. You froze, stopping dead in the rain to watch him go. Even after his license plate retreated in the distance, you felt a sickening sense of dread begin to pool in your gut, one that was already tarnishing your prior bliss.

===+++===

part three perhaps? i also have a tara carpenter one in the works and a lorraine day that's mostly done so hopefully i'll be updating more frequently

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Could you write a tall dom hero x a short villain thing? I love that kind of thing lol, if not its fine though.🔥

“You’re not hurt, are you?” the hero whispered. They pressed the villain gently against the wall, as if they still tried to trap them. The villain swallowed. Suddenly, their tongue was really heavy.

“…no.”

“Are you sure?” the hero asked. They looked around as they lowered their voice and leaned closer against their nemesis. “No injuries?”

“I’m okay,” the villain said. They tried desperately not to look too intimidated.

Being saved by a hero was humiliating enough already but being saved by their nemesis? The villain couldn’t even look at that muscular and tall body that was pressing them against the brick wall as softly as possible. They couldn’t even think about that heroic nemesis that had come to save them from a deal gone terribly wrong.

The villain’s face was burning. The hero had been haunting them for months now. They weren’t save, not even in their dreams.

The hero was like a ghost that followed them around and put some dangerous thoughts into their head. Ridiculous.

“I had everything under control, by the way,” the villain clarified.

“Oh, yeah I saw that. Really looked like you were on top of your game with all those people shooting at you,” the hero mused. They cocked their head.

Curse them. They knew exactly how attractive they were.

“Yes. I don’t need you to save me.”

“Why not? This is fun.”

“Oh, please, you—” Suddenly, the hero leaned down and the villain felt their chest press against theirs.

“Keep your voice down, darling. There’s still a bunch of bad guys walking around here,” they whispered against the villain’s ear.

Hell, their lips even brushed against the villain’s ear, leaving their nervous system a little too excited.

“Maybe I should use this opportunity to search for any weapons on you, hm?” The hero traced the villain’s jawline with their index finger and a grin on their face. “Who knows what you’re hiding in your pants?”

It was cruelty. It was demonic.

The villain was clearly embarrassed and yet, the hero continued with the teasing. It didn’t seem very heroic to the villain, not at all.

“I suppose I should thank you for saving me,” the villain mumbled. Although they were unharmed, they had been scared for their life back then. They supposed thanking the hero wasn’t unreasonable.

They could feel their heart punching against their ribcage.

“Oh?” The hero looked them up and down.

“Yeah. Thank you.” The villain took in a deep breath, trying to steady their voice. “It’s quite sweet of you.”

“Gosh, you’re adorable.” The hero chuckled softly. “To be honest, I was really looking forward to seeing you today. I was getting quite nervous when I couldn’t find you.”

“W-what?”

“Oh, don’t look so surprised. I’m not exactly hiding that I have a crush on you, am I?” Again, the hero tilted their head and the villain could feel their ears burn. Those dimples. That smirk. Those eyes.

“Oh…ehm—”

“Don’t worry. I’ll woo you the proper way. You deserve more than dirty play against a wall.” Their hand found the villain’s hip as they leaned forward again to continue their whispers. “Now, let’s get out of here. You look like you need some water.”

They weren’t wrong about that.