#i can’t help but notice the way he’s isolated from the others

[chirpsythismorning]

☎️🎲 🤼‍♂️ ✈️🚪 ➡️ 🫀🎮⌛️

The Great Pretender by Freddie Mercury

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[cazshmere]

Synastry Observations Pt.2

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER: These are just my personal observations and are meant for entertainment purposes only; it may not resonate with everyone due to the nuances of astrology. Please respect my work and avoid copying or stealing it. Enjoy reading!! 🍊⭐️

🍊 Mars in the 12th house synastry has got to be one of the worst things 😭. It’s confusing and exhausting. The Mars person seems to harbour some sort of irrational animosity towards the house person in a very passive-aggressive way. The house person can sense this too, but they are unsure if they’re making it up or not. Also, it’s such a blockage; you could be really close to each other and know of each other, but the conversation WOULD TAKE AGES to start because neither the house person nor the Mars person wants to initiate conversation. It’s like there’s an invisible barrier between you guys 🥲

🍊 Venus in the 8th house/ in Scorpio’s first romantic relationship or situation always ends up hurting them. I’ve seen this countless times where their first experience with romance either ends in heartbreak, unrequited love, or just a missed opportunity. This heartbreak helps these individuals immensely transform, and they might prefer to isolate themselves from anything romance-related for a long period of time. Honestly I think this is a canon event for every Scorpio/8th house Venus that I’ve met, including me lmao and especially if there are Venus-Saturn hard aspects, dear lord, sending love to all my scorp/8th house placements fr🫶🏻🥲❤️‍🩹

🍊 Something I’ve observed with Libra placements, especially the moon, is that when they’re in a relationship, it becomes the focal point of their life. They might go as far as changing career paths to be closer to their partner, altering their style to match their partner’s preferences, or adjusting their personality to be more appealing to their partner (yes I’m sure most of us do this to some extent but it’s a bit excessive for these peeps😭). Their relationship becomes such a central part of their identity that if anything goes wrong, it can feel devastating for them. For instance, I have a friend who is a Libra moon, and she always refers to her partner as “my boyfriend” instead of his name, even though we all know him personally, like gurl come on he’s got a name haha😭

🍊 Moon in the 12th house synastry can equate to the house person opening up to the moon person or just feeling extremely vulnerable around them. They’d share things with the moon person that they dare not share with anyone else. This synastry could also mean staying up late in the night and throwing your sleep away just to talk to each other 🧿

🍊 12th house synastry could also have undertones of enemies-to-lovers (the lovers part only if you ever get together, that is) because there’s this energy where you don’t know why the other person acts hostile/passive-aggressive towards you, ignores you, or sends you mixed signals that makes you dislike them but at the same time, you can’t stop fantasizing/dreaming about them in all these romantic scenarios or them showing up in your dreams outta nowhere like??😭

🍊 7th/8th and even 10th (to some extent) house synastry could indicate that one of the two, either the house person or the planet person (mostly the house person), copies the other, be it mannerisms, clothes, slang, or even certain traits of the other’s personality 💀. It’s because they notice how much attention or admiration the planet person garners, so to obtain that same kind of attention and recognition the house person might try to emulate the planet person 🫤

🍊 7th house Mars synastry can be very annoying and tiresome (especially for the house person). The Mars person could be a bit too much for the house person. The Mars person could get very petty and passive-aggressive towards the house person for no reason (this could go vice versa too). Yes there is sexual attraction and y’all could motivate/support each other through stuff but at the same time it’s draining asf, a big no no for me when it comes to synastry 🥲

🍊 Moon square Saturn synastry can cause delays when it comes to emotional attachment between two people, but once these two finally connect, it’s ride or die typa relationship fr 🥺🫂

🍊 Moon/Mercury in the 1st/5th/9th house synastry is very exciting and fun-loving, with lots of playful teasing and bantering with each other 😋🥰

🍊Moon /Mercury in the 2nd/4th/8th/10th/12th house synastry makes both parties very sensitive to each other’s words because these houses reflect our self esteem/self worth, the deepest parts of ourselves, our core, our reputation etc. A little bit of critique can also be taken personally by either party. Even harmless jokes could be taken in the wrong way and arguments could occur (especially if there isn’t 3rd/5th/9th/11th house synastry or any easy aspects in the synastry chart)

🍊 When someone's planets fall in your 8th house, they intuitively sense your true and deep needs related to that planet. For example, if someone's Venus is in your 8th house, they will know how to love you in a way that makes you feel unconditionally loved and appreciated. If their Mercury is in your 8th house, they will understand how to communicate with you on a profound level, meeting your need for deep and meaningful conversation. If their Mars is in your 8th house, they will instinctively know how to meet your sexual needs and desires and please you in bed🖤❤️‍🔥

© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]

banner credits : @anitalenia <3

[bunni-v1]

OMGG you wrote the first years finding out reader was a girl so well! i love it :D could i maybe request the same thing but for thirds years? thank you so much and have a good day :)

Third Years Find out You’re a Girl?!?!? (NOT CLICKBAIT) 

TW: Rook and Lilia are creepy

Info: Trey, Cater, Rook, Lilia x Reader (platonic)

Tags: @kierancaz @danchann33 @arashrita

🍓Ahh, the third years… How I do love them. Please ignore my blatant favoritism in Rook… I just… I really <3 him. Truly, the third years are my absolute weakest character, but I hope I did them well. Remember, dorm leaders are on a separate post. Love you all, and enjoy <3

First Years

Ortho & Sebek

Second Years

Dorm Leaders

-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?

-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.

-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.

-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)

-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)

-So how do you two do it?

-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.

-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.

-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)

-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.

-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 

-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.

-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.

-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.

-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!

-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.

-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…

-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.

-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).

-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.

-So… how do they find out?

Trey

-Trey is a very good middle ground compared to everyone else in NRC.

-He doesn’t find out immediately like some people, but he finds out pretty soon into knowing you.

-Trey has siblings. Specifically, he has younger sisters he helped raise alongside his mother and father.

-He’s good at reading women thanks to his sisters. He knows many tells of discomfort, displeasure, dislike, etc.. 

-It’s different from how his brothers would show it, how others at NRC show it. 

-He can’t even explain it, he just knows the differences and it makes sense to him.

-With you, he notices the tells. Notices that you deepen your voice and you shy away from the more… intimidating and touchy guys on campus.

-He’s not one to assume, though!

-He’s attended three years at NRC in the same class as Vil.

-He understands that gender expression presents itself in tons of different ways. 

-You clearly prefer using he/him pronouns, Ace and Deuce use strictly male pronouns, so it’s not his place to say anything.

-Still… the way your eyes glitter when he praises you for doing well on your tarts reminds him a whole lot of his little sisters.

-It’s not till a bit later, shortly before Riddle explodes when he asks Cater that his suspicions are concerned.

-“Cater, don’t you think the new guy in ramshackle is a little…”

“Girl? Yeah, it’s kinda obvs.”

“Is it now…?”

-Cater pretty much lays out everything he noticed about you, and it matches up pretty well with what Trey was thinking.

-Still! Trey doesn’t want to force the idea that you’re a woman on you! 

-What if you are trans, non-binary, or anything else? To assume something like that is completely awful, and he’s better than that. 

-He’s not a troublemaker after all.

-So, during one of Heartslabyul’s tea parties, (much like many others at NRC), he pulls you aside just to get confirmation.

-“So, this might seem a little rude, but I want to make sure I’m respecting you.”

“…kay…”

“Are you a woman?”

“Didn’t Cater tell you already?”

-Oh. Okay. Cater was right. He shouldn’t have doubted him. Noted.

-You make him swear up and down that he won’t tell Ace or Deuce, and you move on from it like it's nothing. (You’re not sure you can trust Ace and Deuce to keep their mouths shut at this point).

-And, really, it should be nothing. Trey should just be able to move on and relax… but his brotherly instincts sort of act up around you.

-He’s not overbearing in any way, it isn’t a creepy thing that suffocates you… it’s just a notable increase in intake of Trey in your life.

-He invites you over to “try this new recipe he made” (an excuse to ensure you’re eating, because he’s confident Crowley isn’t providing you nearly enough nourishment).

-Sometimes he shows up at Ramshackle to pick up Ace and Deuce and ends up staying and helping you clean up after the disaster freshmen.

-Most importantly, he checks in on you and your well-being considerably more than he does anyone else.

-He has, in fact, called you little sis before as well. He was incredibly embarrassed by it and refused to acknowledge it happened.

-Cater does not let him forget that it happens, calling you “Trey’s honorary sister” every chance he gets.

-It’s not so bad though. Especially at the start, you really needed someone reliable like Trey to lean on when you needed help since Crowley would only do the bare minimum.

Cater

-Cater finds out pretty damn quick after meeting you.

-It's not the exact second he sees you, but very shortly after your first interactions… he gets it.

-As we know, Cater was sort of forced into being feminine and girly by his sisters — something he was completely uncomfortable with, but later forced himself to embrace.

-When he looks at you… how big your clothes are, how you artificially deepen your voice, how you’re clearly uncomfortable with both of those things… he sees a younger version of himself.

-Still… it's super not his place to bother you about something like that. 

-He hardly knows you, and as your upperclassman, he should be a role model and not worry about superficial stuff.

-M’kay! It is no big deal for Cay Cay, he can leave it all behind him with no issue! Totally doesn’t bother him at all!

-…He’s a big fat liar.

-It’s not his fault okay! He just… can’t get that look of discomfort out of his mind. 

-You looked so miserable :( You looked like how he used to look :(

-So, Cater, far more impulsive and honest than good old Trey, straight up asks you. (Privately, of course, he’s not a monster.)

-“Heyyyy, so, weird question… are you a girl? It’s totally cool if you’re not, I’m just curious.”

“…How did you know…”

-It kinda freaks you out a lot. You thought you were hiding it so well.

-Cater, sweetie that he is, assures you that he’s different from others. 

-He’s got special circumstances that allowed him to notice what was going on.

-Promises he won’t open his mouth…

-He tells Trey less than a week later.

-It’s not his fault! He was on your trail already, he was gonna figure out one way or another!

-Other than the Trey debacle, he’s really good at NOT gossiping about it, believe it or not.

-He’s your reliable senpai after all :D

-He is your first official ally!

-Completely supportive of what you’re trying to do here, and is more than willing to be a safe space when you just need to… be a woman sometimes.

-You spend a lot of time with him after he finds out.

-His dorm is always open for you, even if Riddle hates it, m’kay! You can always come to your old pal Cater for help.

-He really helps you on selling the whole “I’m a man” act. 

-He shows you easier ways to hide your chest so you don’t always have to swim in your clothes and helps you keep your hair styled in a way that either hides it or makes you look more masculine.

-He’s like the best big brother figure to have, honestly, and he remains one of your dearest friends through your whole stay at NRC.

-He’s someone to vent to, someone who gets what you’re going through just a little, and someone who’s really there for you all the time.

-Also very protective of your secret. 

-The only reason Ace and Deuce don’t know for so long is because Cater is working overtime to keep them off your trail.

-He tells you all about his escapades and keeping them in the dark too, he’s so proud of himself. (Please praise him, he needs it).

-Seriously though, he’s such a sweetheart and he’s always there for you if you need him.

Rook

-Ah beloved lover of beauty Rook!

-He is quite the oddball, isn’t he? Always off in his own world spewing flowery nonsense all in “the pursuit of beauty” as he calls it.

-Most people on campus just call him a freak and move on from it. 

-You’ve heard about him, of course. The stalker-hunter from Pomefiore makes the beastmen on campus tremble in fear (or annoyance, in Leona's case).

-You knew he existed, but seeing him was never really common. In fact… seeing anyone from Pomefiore was rare.

-You guessed such an elitist dorm probably wouldn’t want to mingle with someone like you.

-In Rook’s case, however, you couldn’t be more wrong.

-He was quite interested in you from the very second you’d interrupted the whole opening ceremony.

-You were… striking in his eyes. Not quite as beautiful as Vil, of course, but very eye-catching.

-While Vil insists you are a pest not worth Rook’s attention, he disagrees.

-Truly, he’s fascinated by you and your story.

-You from another world, who goes out of his way to hide such natural beauty with baggy clothes and messy hair… Ah! How his heart pounds in excitement, he must know more!

-So he does the only thing he knows how to…

-He goes on the hunt. For what? He’s not sure yet, but his hunches are rarely wrong.

-He follows you to classes, watches you get yourself into trouble and out of it, stalks you through the windows of ramshackle, and laments about his findings to (a very unimpressed) Vil.

-You can feel his piercing gaze on your back, but you never see him. It’s chilling honestly.

-It’s not until he decides to follow you to Sam’s later at night that he figures it out.

-You had purchased a large box of feminine supplies…

-He had gotten you, little trickster :)

-Now, since he had gotten his solution, he laid back on the whole… creeping on you in your dorm thing.

-He is a hunter, not a pervert.

-Leading up to the VDC, when you’ve decided to try out officially, you suddenly see a lot more of this mysteriously creepy Rook character.

-And, honestly, he was really nice! 

-Sure he said a lot of needlessly long and poetic sentences, but at the end of the day, he would always wave at you in the hallways or offer to help you learn the dance for auditions.

-This was all a ruse to be able to get closer to you and uncover your inner beauty.

-HE convinced Vil it was a good idea for you to be manager, and HE was the one who offered to ensure you “didn’t cause any trouble.”

-And Rook, good as he is at hiding secrets, pretty much lets you know that he knows. Constantly you find him… flirting? Complementing? You… saying how badly he would like to see you cleaned up and in more fitting clothes.

-Nothing he’s doing is romantic… you think… he’s just very clearly interested in you.

-So, of course, you have to ask him.

“Did you… figure out I’m a woman.”

“Perhaps…”

“You’re… not going to tell anyone, right?”

“Little trickster, I am the master of secrets.”

-Honestly? It’s not so bad having him and the others in Pomefiore know. 

-You really get to be yourself with Vil and Rook, so it's nice! Besides, you haven’t been prettied up in a really long time. You kinda missed it.

Lilia

-Ah, Lilia… beloved elderly man.

-He won’t lie and say that he isn’t incredibly curious about you too. Who wouldn’t be?

-A human from another reality with no magic, no concept of where they are, and no idea how to get you back.

-Very curious indeed.

-However, he has no reason to get himself involved in your business.

-You are a confident young lad, and clearly strong and capable. 

-In the few interactions he did have with you, you clearly had your head on your shoulders and well-founded confidence in your own abilities.

-The only thing truly odd about you was… your face.

-He isn’t one to talk, he’s thousands of years old and he’s got quite (unnaturally) large eyes and soft skin.

-You, however, aren’t fae. You aren’t anything more than a human.

-Excuse his close-mindedness for just a moment, but if he wasn’t mistaken you look quite… feminine.

-Small(er) stature, baggy clothes, clearly discomforted by “manly” activities that your friends drag you into.

-It wasn’t his place to question, of course. He understands that gender isn’t easy to define, and his thoughts are only ideas from his past creeping up on him.

-Still… it raises some questions in his mind.

-He knows where his responsibilities lay, so he brushes his thoughts under the rug and moves on from the thought.

-That is… until he notices Malleus’… interest in you.

-The prince’s visits to ramshackle only seemed to increase after you arrived.

-As Malleus’ caretaker (and out of morbid curiosity), he must investigate you further.

-That's how you start… seeing a lot of Lilia. Like, too much Lilia. How in the world is he always there, it’s creeping you out.

-He’ll talk to you, sometimes, but most of the time you can feel his beady little red eyes watching you.

-You don’t know what you did to him, but it’s really starting to freak you out.

-You’ve seen his fangs, does he want you for a blood bag or something.

-You, being strong as you are, decide to just confront him one day in the library.

-“Okay, what’s your problem. You went from acting like I don’t exist to constantly staring at me like I’m your next meal.”

“Please forgive me, that wasn’t my intention. I’m simply… curious about you, and I didn’t want to scare you off by approaching.”

“I don’t think your solution to that problem was any less scary.”

-You give him the benefit of the doubt, and you realize this guy talks like your grandpa or something. He’s so old, it’s almost funny.

-You decide to start spending some more time with him, and you realize he’s really fun to be around.

-Despite his seemingly old soul, he’s rebellious and feisty, and he has an endless treasure trove of stories to tell you.

-He becomes a comforting force in your life, so much so you begin to confide in him your stresses and worries.

-Inevitably, you end up telling him how hard it is to hide being a woman. How only so many people know, and how exhausting it is to pretend to be something you’re not.

-“Does Malleus know?”

“Malleus…?”

“The man you meet in front of your dorm at night.”

“Oh! Do you mean Hornton? No, I don’t know if he’s good at keeping secrets or not.”

“He is not.”

-Lilia is more than willing to be a force in your life that keeps you happy and healthy. 

-He is more providing and giving than Crowley is, constantly giving you little gifts and ensuring you have enough money to keep taking care of yourself.

-You insist that he doesn’t need to do any of that, but his fatherly instincts tell him otherwise.

[leth-writes]

yandere arcane x reader from the undercity

SUMMARY: yandere arcane x undercity reader

WARNINGS: 18+ as always on my blog, though the work is safe for work. Typical yandere shenanigans.

mild spoilers for season two in Caitlyn’s part, but I think I managed to avoid season two spoilers in every other part.

MASTERLIST: https://www.tumblr.com/leth-writes/757800060720496640/requests-open?source=share 

Requests are open!

SILCO

Silco’s job is made a whole lot easier by you being a citizen of Zaun. He’s able to pretty effectively track you around the undercity without much effort, hell, he might even sick Sevika on you just to follow you around and take notes, who knows.

He’s really obsessive about making sure you’re safe. Before you’ve met, he’s got someone on you constantly, taking notes and giving him a detailed list of everything you do. He also manages to bug your apartment. He likes watching you just putter around, it helps put him at ease.

I think he’d have an easier time rationalizing his affection for a darling from the undercity; his whole goal is to make the undercity sovereign, and if you share those goals, he’ll give you a little more wiggle room. You still won’t be able to leave The Last Drop, like at all, but you’ll definitely get a bit more space than he would normally allow a darling to have.

Since you’re so familiar with the undercity, collaring and tagging you is a necessity for him. He can’t have you running away, so he gets Singed to embed a fucking tracker. You won’t even feel a thing, it happens before you even gain consciousness that first day.

Spends a lot of time breaking you down so you never try to run away; everyone knows how important you are to him, and that puts a target on your back.

VI or JINX

She doesn’t really care all that much. It’s a bit easier to get her to open up, but beyond that, I think she just sees the undercity as like the baseline, she doesn’t even consider that she would end up with someone from the topside.

SEVIKA

Makes her job a hell of a lot easier. You already know her reputation, you’re never gonna disobey her. Don’t even think about it.

Makes sure you stay on the premises of The Last Drop, keeps you cooped up most of the time. SHe’s worried you’ll run away if she takes you out, though she keeps you entertained by buying you trinkets and takeout. You’re just amazed to see stuff from the topside, you’ve never been, and it’s easy to keep you busy.

You’re like a kid, staring at the snow globe she buys you. She genuinely thinks you haven’t moved all day.

VIKTOR

Also makes his job easier. As a person from the Undercity, you understand his backstory in a way someone like Jayce never would. 

It also makes it easier to keep you isolated. You do face discrimination as an undercity person when you’re topside, which keeps you running into his arms. He knows you could beat him up, it wouldn’t be hard, but you would have no way to get back home, and your quality of life has shot way up anyways.

Your relationship is actually probably the healthiest out of everyone on this list, just by virtue of him feeling free to take you around town, though he does use the discrimination to subtly remind you not to leave him. You might not even notice you’ve technically been kidnapped, he’s so subtle.

CAITLYN

Season one Caitlyn doesn’t mind all that much.

Season two Caitlyn treats you like a fucking pet. She acts like you’re… lower than her. She loves you so, so much, but she definitely doesn’t trust you the way she would trust someone from Piltover. You’re never leaving the house, and you’ll never return home. She plans on cleaning the place out, anyways, so it’s not safe for you down there.

She probably keeps you on sedatives. She views you as slightly dangerous, so she isn’t willing to take that chance.

You’re a lot more pliant when you can’t tell up from down, and she’s free to just cuddle with you without a worry in the world.

[pastryfication]

I love ur fics ❤️ can you do an Oscar x reader fic where she can’t find Oscar in the paddock and is panicking and goes to lando for help x

i'm here but i'm lost in crowd

pairing: oscar piastri x reader note: you guys seem to really love platonic lando lol so here's another one <3 also i’m sorry i somehow misread your request to reader getting lost and not losing oscar…

the united states grands prix were by far the most chaotic races of the season. normally, you didn’t prioritise them—the time-zones messed with your sleep schedule, the amount of spectators became overwhelming, and oscar had so many media duties that he barely had time for you, so why spend precious days off when you could use them on less crowded grands prix?—but you had time off either way, so on a 20 hour flight to the other side of the world you were.

you tried to stay close to kim as you arrived at the paddock. he was the person on oscar’s team who you knew and trusted the most, and he was more than happy to let you tag along to his duties, but eventually, he had to go to a meeting, and then you had to find somewhere else to go.

at first, you decided to stay in the hospitality area, too afraid of getting lost to wander about, but it quickly started to bore you. there were no familiar faces, and you grew tired of sitting alone in a corner.

walking outside the mclaren building, you were immediately met with the rush of people walking around you. the air was full of excitement and anticipation—the usual on a race weekend—and you couldn’t help but smile. this was why you wanted to come to as many races as possible; you absolutely loved the atmosphere.

smiling, you walked through the paddock, waving to fans when they noticed you, stopping briefly to say hi to engineers and other mclaren personnel as you passed them, and before you knew it, you found yourself in a completely unfamiliar place.

you looked around, realising just how disoriented you were. the hum of the paddock, which had initially filled you with excitement, now felt like an overwhelming blur. faces passed by too quickly to register, people walking around everywhere and your heart started to race as the nagging feeling grew—where were you?

the crowds seemed to move faster now, making you feel even more isolated. the rush of people, the sounds of chatter and excitement, the bright texas sun bearing down—it all added to the growing panic in your chest. you tried to retrace your steps in your mind, thinking back to how you'd ended up here, but the more you thought about it, the more it seemed like you’d wandered too far. you could feel your throat tightening as you scanned the sea of unfamiliar faces. why hadn’t you just stayed in the mclaren hospitality?

you reached for your phone, intending to send an SOS to someone from the team, but your pockets were empty. had you really been stupid enough to forget your phone?

as the realisation that you really were alone settled in your body, you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. you could do this. you’d been to enough races by now to find your way back, right?

but no matter how much you told yourself that, the panic only grew. what if you walked the wrong way and ended up even further from where you were supposed to be? what if you bumped into the wrong crowd and caused a scene? the paddock suddenly felt more intimidating than exciting, the noise drowning out your thoughts, leaving you frozen in place.

just as you felt yourself spiraling, a voice broke through the chaos.

“hey!” a voice called out your name. “what are you doing out here alone?"

you spun around so fast that you nearly stumbled, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes landed on the familiar face of lando norris. relief flooded through you so intensely that for a second, you couldn’t even form words. lando was standing just a few feet away, his helmet under one arm, a slightly confused but amused look on his face. he took a step closer, raising an eyebrow as he glanced around.

“pretty far from mclaren territory, aren’t you?” he teased, though his tone was light, and there was a softness in his eyes when he looked back at you.

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “i don’t even know how it happened. i was fine, just walking around, and then all of a sudden, nothing looked familiar anymore. and now i just—” you trailed off, feeling a little ridiculous for admitting how overwhelmed you were.

lando’s expression softened when he noticed the genuine worry in your eyes. “hey, it’s alright,” he said, his voice gentle now. “it happens to the best of us. this place can be a maze if you’re not paying attention. if i had a dollar for every time someone got lost in this paddock, i’d have… well, probably enough to buy a few extra helmets.” he smiled when you laughed at his words, glancing around, as if to get his bearings, before his eyes landed back on you. “come on, i’ll walk you back before oscar starts a search party.”

you let out a breath of relief, feeling the tension in your chest loosen just a little. “thanks, lando.”

“don’t mention it,” he replied with a wink. “besides, it’s not every day i get to play the hero.”

you rolled your eyes shaking your head slightly, and as you continued walking through the paddock, the surroundings began to look more familiar. with lando’s easy-going presence beside you, the fear that had gripped you earlier seemed almost ridiculous now.

“you know,” he said after a few moments of walking in companionable silence, “i think oscar might owe me for this one. saving his girlfriend from the wild paddock? that’s gotta be worth at least a couple free dinners, right?”

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound of it surprising even yourself. “i’ll make sure he knows just how heroic you’ve been today.”

lando smirked, glancing sideways at you. “good. i expect a full report.” there was a moment of silence before he continued. “honestly, though,” lando continued, glancing at you, “if you miss someone to hang out with, you should just stick with me more often. i’ll make sure you never get lost again.

“thank you, lan.” you smiled earnestly up at him.

as you neared the mclaren building, the bustling crowd became more familiar, and the sight of papaya clad engineers and personnel milling around instantly brought a sense of comfort. you exhaled, feeling the last remnants of anxiety melt away.

“here we are,” lando announced grandly, gesturing toward the motorhome. “safe and sound, thanks to your friendly neighborhood norris.”

you shook your head, a laugh escaping you. “i really appreciate it, lando. seriously.”

“anytime,” he replied, grinning widely. “i’ll always be happy to help.”

[cherryredcheol]

little guy shelf

tldr: what the hell is a 'little guy'? an: i literally do not know where this came from.

when jihoon hears you huff for the fourth time in just as many minutes, he knows something must be wrong. after pausing the music coming out of his speakers and minimizing the tabs of production software on his monitor, he turns his chair to face you and is not surprised to hear you huff again. 

“bee,” he waits for you to look up at him before he asks, “what's the problem?” 

you huff again, but quickly pull yourself together and explain to him, very calmly, “there’s too many little guys on my shelf.”

jihoon blinks, sure he misheard you he asks again, “what is the problem?” 

you’re starting to get exacerbated, he can see it in the way you take a deep breath before explaining yourself, “my shelf, where i keep my little guys, there’s too many of them and now i can’t fit this one but this one is perfect! it has to go on my shelf.”

“i’m sorry, bee. i’m still confused. what is a ‘little guy’? and why does he have a designated shelf?” you two were still on opposite sides of the universe factory, and although the room was not big, he could not see the self in question from where he was, leaving him even more confused. 

“just come over here and look at my shelf, zi. you’ll get it if you can see it.” you could see the hesitation in his eyes at the thought of taking a break from production, but you were not above guilt-tripping. “come help me, zi. i need you,” you hoped your puppy-dog eyes still worked on him. 

turns out, they do. he got up and shuffled over to where you had squat down next to the second-to-bottom shelf on his wall. he’d never noticed before but the little shelf he’s offhandedly told you could be yours many, many months ago had been filled with little trinkets, or ‘guys’ he guessed. he wasn’t sure why you were so upset about this, though. 

“bee, i’m still confused. what exactly is the problem with your…guys?” he gestured vaguely to your plastic army.

“they’re all you! little tiny versions of you. and i’ve been collecting them but this one,” you lifted your hand to jihoon’s face. a tiny green man, bent over a barbell was staring back at him, his eyes were almost crossed trying to look at it. “this one will not fit! they all keep tipping over and then i stand them back up and then they tip over again! but he belongs here with these other little guys, zi. he belongs.” 

he gently pushed your hand out of his face, “yeah, bee. he totally belongs.” jihoon was still confused, but a little less so and terribly fond, “who else is there? who else represents me?” 

you lit up, clearly excited to explain your thought process to him. you turned, hand gently reaching into the molded infantry and remerging with a…grumpy penguin? 

jihoon was still confused but was ready to listen intently to your enthusiastic explanation, “tell me everything, bee.” he was doing this mostly to humor you, but he was intrigued.  

holding the little penguin out in front of you, you said, “this is badtz-maru. he is a penguin. he’s perpetually stuck in the first grade and wants to be the big boss of everything when he grows up.”

jihoon plucked the little plastic toy from your hand, turning it over to inspect it, “that's nice. but why is he me?” 

“well, he has black spiky hair, like you do,” you paused, looking at his long black hair, “sometimes.” you smiled sheepishly before continuing, “and penguins give rocks to their partners to show love. and you wrote ‘ruby’ and a ruby is technically a rock so…” you trailed off, embarrassed about your ramblings. 

jihoon had never thought you cuter. he reached the hand not holding his penguin self onto the shelf and pulled out a pokémon. “why flareon?” 

“oh! other than the sheer cuteness?” you were really on a tangent now, “‘flareon tends to isolate. and it’s in their nature to be lonely, so–”

jihoon interjected, “i am not lonely. nor do i isolate.” 

“well, that’s not true. you do isolate, don’t lie. and maybe not lonely per se, more of a loner. which again, you kind of are. plus, this little guy is spitting fire, which again, you do, so yeah. flareon, obviously.” 

“obviously.” jihoon was thoroughly amused. he had no idea any of this was in his studio. you’ve been hoarding toys here. toys that reminded you of him, “show me one more, bee.”

you pulled out, “a little baby, with a vegetable hat?” 

“no, zi. this is not any baby with a vegetable hat. this is the cabbage sonny angel. technically it’s the wrong kind of cabbage to make kimchi with but i’m choosing to let it slide because it’s little face looks just like yours!” 

you were very passionate about these so-called ‘little guys’ and although jihoon didn’t really get it, he loved you. and he loved that you thought about him so much that you would collect these little toys in his honor. 

“here,” he grabs the green weightlifting one off the discard pile on the floor and stands up. he rounds the corner to his desk and, “it can live here. since it’s ‘me’ and all.” he places it right next to his monitor, right in his line of vision, but not blocking anything important. 

you got up from the pile, leaving your little guys on the floor to see where this little guy had been placed. 

coming up behind jihoon you siaid, “zi! he looks perfect there!” you leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. 

he blushed but still said, “you don’t have to keep the little guys just on that one shelf. use the whole wall, bee. my space is your space.”

[charliemwrites]

Part 11!!

Sorry this took so long (and that it’s a bit short) I have trouble with scene switching sometimes, and it makes me cut up the story into pieces.

No Content Warnings For This Chapter

Somewhere between your pride and the numbing passage of time lies the way you really feel about the 141. It's undeniable that you're still deeply hurt by what transpired; a chronic ache like a mended bone, only noticeable in the cold, or when you sleep on it wrong. For them, it was easy to reach inside your chest to extract your heart, sternum soft and malleable. It was harder with SpecGru, the bone grew back harder, thicker. You had to crack your ribs open and scraped the chambers on bone shards, but at least they stopped the bleeding.

You don’t miss the 141, not really. It wasn’t just those final, brutal days spent lying alone in a hospital bed that filled those transfer papers. The culprit had been the time that isolation had afforded, to think more deeply, to analyze your position through a less-optimistic lense. Those last conversations had just been your signature on the line.

You don’t blame the gun for firing, you blame whoever pulled the trigger.

Bitterness seeps onto your tongue sometimes. Masochistically, you let it linger. It has no purpose but to raise your hackles and press on that knitted spot until it bruises. It’s your pride, that’s all, lamenting the blood you chose to spill in sacrifice only to have it wasted.

The present is a much sweeter wash for the taste of the past, sticking to your lips and curling your tongue. Honey-balm for resentment, syrup cutting through salt. You focus on the flavor as you stride into the briefing room.

Your captain is already there, a sly smirk for the flush to your faces as Nova follows you in. He’s speaking to Laswell, arms crossed but shoulders relaxed.

Nikto is leaned up against the wall, a shadow without anyone to cast it. He comes to you and Nova as you take seats, angled to face the only exit. He knee presses to yours as you settle in, eyes flicking around.

Nostalgia is a complicated tide rising and ebbing around your ankles. Memories of your time with the 141 in this very room, planning and strategizing, learning where to support your teammates and where they would support you. Jokes made with Soap and Gaz, loaded glances between you and Ghost, a reassuring nod or shoulder squeeze from Price.

That, you think, is where the ache is. Not in missing those moments; you have them with SpecGru now, and without that lingering sense that you don’t quite belong. But in those rose-tinted relationships you’ll never get back (and know you don’t really want again.)

It was never as good as it is with your team now; they were still the team you thought you belonged with. You’ve learned better since but that doesn’t appease the naive 141 operative that put everything into those four.

Your captain has taken the seat you used to have, and he belongs there, a buffer between his team and theirs. You press your thumb to one of the bruises he left on your thigh and settle in.

“Sunshine,” Keegan greets, brushing his knuckles over Nova’s cheek. “Sweets.”

You tilt your chin welcomingly as he nuzzles his nose against your temple, fabric of his mask itching along your jaw.

“Smell good,” he rumbles, low. Just for you and Nova.

“That’s what happens when you shower,” you answer, playing dismissive.

“You should try it sometime,” Nova adds, smirking.

“Only if you join me,” Keegan coos, drawing a spare chair up close. For as tough and distant as he is towards others, he’s long opened his ribs for you and the rest of SpecGru to crawl inside. You admire it now for as much as you distrusted it then.

“Too late,” you say, sharing a look with Nova, “already helped her wash up for the day.”

She whacks you in the knee, startling a laugh out of you. Keegan scoffs, throwing an arm across the back of your chair.

“Nothin’ says we can’t take another,” he drawls, “if I get you dirty enough.”

Beside you, Nikto snorts. Keegan shoots him a teasing look, arching his eyebrows invitingly. The captain is watching, as always, pride and affection smoldering in coal-dark eyes.

And you’re right where you’re meant to be. With them, always with them.

At the front of the room, Laswell politely clears her throat. All eyes turn to her - though you only just notice that the 141 has filed in, perched on the other end of the briefing table, a collective storm cloud.

Laswell kicks off the meeting with a recap of the ongoing mission - basics that all of you read in the docket before shipping out. It’s a big operation, delicate due to hostages. The 141 needed manpower with comparable skills; enter SpecGru.

“One of our best specialists has patched in to explain the parameters in greater detail.”

The big screen at the front of the room lights up. A familiar puff of curly blond hair and green eyes blink into view.

“Gooooood mornin’! Or is it evening? Either way, I hope it’s good.”

Your captain lets out a long breath, trying (and mostly failing) to hide his amusement.

“This is Duke,” Laswell says for the 141’s benefit. “She’s one of our best technicians. I put her on this assignment when I reached out to SoecGru.”

“And you should be glad she did!” Duke chimes in. Her tongue flashes blue as she speaks, and it’s not just the light of the computers surrounding her. Her love of raspberry candies is practically a calling card. “They’re actually pretty decent at keeping communications to a minimum, but porn bots always get ‘em.”

The captain sighs, running a hand down his face. Nova pats his arm sympathetically. Poor guy.

“Anyway! I have their plans for the hostages all drawn up - check this out.”

One loud click of her mouse and the screen flicks to a map with colored circles and wiggly lines. Locations and routes, with little time stamps above each.

“They plan on taking the hostages in waves. If one transport goes down going in or out, they can cut their losses. Lucky for us, they’re super dumb, so I’ve found a 12 minute window where all their teams are out in the open.”

Another image, the transport routes now sporting little icons of angry faces with their tongues sticking out. They're all at various distances along their colored paths, but none of them have made it to whatever the destination is.

“If they’re hit all at once, no group will have time to warn the others,” Duke explains. “Hostages safe, bad guys caught, we all go home and pet our dogs.”

She babbles through the rest of the plan in that controlled chaos way she has, concise and insightful around a casual tone more fitting a high school presentation. The building where the hostages will be taken, every route, down to the vehicles and guns the terrorists will have.

Eventually, she runs out of pertinent information, there are no questions because she’s covered just about everything short of the humidity. Her face pops up on screen again, eyes always a bit glassy from staring at screens too long without blinking. “Lastly, don’t get shot, or I’m telling ma.”

Your captain huffs, that grin finally cracking across his solemn face.

“Do that ‘n I’ll tell her you drop f-bombs like it’s your job,” he replies.

Her mouth drops open in outrage. “It is my job!”

“Yeah? How about that stipend, huh? How much’a that ‘s going to your candy habit?”

Duke’s face flushes, but she’s got that wide smile beamed up to eleven. “Your girlfriend likes me better,” she sing-songs.

He snorts. “Which one?”

“Both,” you and Nova answer at the same time.

Her eyes narrow smugly before she signs off with a little finger wave and a “toodaloo!”

“Your sister, I take it?” Price drawls in the characteristic silence of Duke’s absence.

Your captain shoots him a sideways look. “What, you can’t see the resemblance?” he replies, dry as desert.

You cough into your arm to hide your giggles but Nova isn’t nearly as polite.

As you’re filing out with the rest of the team, you’re surprised that there aren’t calls from your former team. No overtures to justify themselves or half-assed apologies that still somehow make it sound like everything was your fault. You’re almost tempted to check over your shoulder, but you won’t give them the satisfaction of seeming interested. You just don’t trust the sudden silence, even if the captain alluded that there’s some sort of ceasefire in place. You’ve never known the 141 to bend knee to anyone but their own.

A glance at your captain and he’s noticed it too, satisfaction flicking across his face before he catches your eye. He jerks his head. You follow him back to his room, leaning your shoulder in the doorway as he loosens his belt.

“Talked to Price,” he begins.

You arch your brows. “And?”

He blows out a sigh, hands on his hips. “And he wants to talk to you. Him and the rest of the team.”

You groan. “About what?”

He shrugs. “Hell if I know, it wasn’t exactly circle time, doll.”

You roll your eyes. Those useless, cryptic…

“Hey.”

You blink, face going hot when you see the stern look on your captain’s face. Whoops.

“Sorry, sir,” you say. “That wasn’t meant to be at you, I’m just so fucking… ugh.”

“Look, I got ‘em off your back during working hours, but anytime after is outta my hands.”

You puff up, annoyed all over again with the whole situation. It couldn’t be enough for them to ostracize you back then, or try to distract you on-duty now, derailing drills. No, they want your free time too.

“I’m not gonna tell you how to handle this, alright? But maybe getting some of this shit off your chest will do you some good. Let ‘em blow smoke, say whatever you gotta say, and put all this to rest.”

You deflate, giving him a weary scowl that does nothing to deter him from closing the distance. (Not that you wanted it to.)

“Isn’t that telling me what to do?” you mumble, letting your forehead thunk against his broad chest.

“Nah, if I was tellin’ you what to do, you’d be doin’ it,” he chuckles. “If you don’t want nothin’ to do with ‘em, you can spend every night in here for all I care. Up to you.”

You’re only putting up resistance because you know he’s right, it’s just not what you want. It’s easier and simpler to be pissed off and short-tempered with the 141. Safer, in a way.

But there’s no getting any safer, in any sense of the word. Worst thing any of them can say is something you already know, or something that isn’t true. You’ve got your own team for support regardless.

“I hate when you’re right,” you grump.

He smooths a hand through your hair. “If that were true, you’d hate me all the time.”

You nip him in retaliation; he tugs a lock of hair for the trouble.

This is home, you think. Your captain. Nova, Nikto, Keegan. Doesn’t matter where in the world you are, they’re your present and your future. Knowing that, the pain and uncertainty of the past are just ghosts. It’s time to put them to rest like one.

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Masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Know Your Place 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall, destroyer!Chris [for the purposes of this AU, I will give him the last name Jackson] (Professor AU)

Summary: after a life time of home schooling, you finally get to experience the real world in college. (petite reader)

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

The noise all around has you reeling. You’re not used to so many people. So many voices and smells and sights. The frantic action of it all reminds you of a mid-00s movie about a high school. The coeds are like animals milling about in groups with the odd single body rushing between with a mission stitched between their brows. 

You sit with your thermos of tea and try to focus on your schedule. You have a campus map from the Student Support Centre next to it, trying to map out your route for each day. Momma said you should try to get ahead, figure out where you’re going. She’s always right. 

You have two classes that day. As you find the buildings on the map, planting a finger on each, you find that they are on completely different ends of the campus. Of course. Well, momma didn’t know that where they would be, did she? She said you have to balance your load; if you’re going to be an English major, make sure you take some math and science for your electives. 

You circle the two buildings and put lets beside them denoting which day you need to be there, numbering them in the order the classes occur. A burst of laughter breaks your concentration and you look around, trying to find the source. You almost miss the calm isolation of your childhood living room. 

No, you’re grown now and you begged Momma to let you go to college. Not online, but in person. You even worked all summer at the deli so you could live in a dorm. She was proud but worried. She’s never been good at letting go. She’s already called three times today and it’s not even noon. 

As the crowd blurs around you, a sudden gust blows over the table as someone sits across from you. You stare back at them with a gasp. They must’ve mistaken you for someone else. You blink as the man tugs on the front of his letterman jacket and smiles. He doesn’t seem mistaken. 

“Hey,” he leans forward on an elbow, “you waitin’ for someone? Got some cute girlfriends on their way?” 

He’s so forward, he has your brows as high as they can go and your cheeks are on fire. It’s not much of an introduction. 

“Excuse me?” You eke out. 

“Ah, I’m sorry, hon, I’m getting ahead of myself,” he smirks as he crosses both his arms on the table. “I’m Colin. You looked lonely.” 

“Oh, uh, I’m just... figuring out my schedule,” you utter dumbly. Yor brain isn’t clicking. Why is he talking to you? 

Your ears tweak and you notice a group in similar jackets, sitting just across the dining area, gabbing loudly, snickering. You wonder why he isn’t over there with them. You wiggle your pen anxiously. 

“Ah, you’re not gonna give me a name for that pretty face?” He says. 

“Huh?” Your brows drop, “what?” 

Your momma’s voice echoes in your head. ‘Be careful of those college boys. They only want one thing.’ You didn’t believe her. They don’t want that from you. You were sure once you saw the other girls in their tight leggings and short tops. 

“Your name, baby? Gotta be something sweet, huh?” 

Your face ripples as you wade through surprise, confusion, then something else. You’re almost giddy. This man, with his mussed blond hair and bright blue eyes, and his chiseled features, is asking you your name. It’s flattering. 

“Mauve,” you can’t help but smile as you answer. 

“Oh, yeah? That’s pretty, well, Mauve,” he takes out his phone, “me and my buddies are having a party tonight and we’re supposed to find a hottie to bring with us. I’m having no luck but if I show up alone, well... I might not get to stay in the frat. You get it?” 

You stare at him. You're confused. You don’t really understand frats and whatnot. They just seem like clubs people join so they can drink. 

“You wanna do me a favour? Come with me?” He asks. 

He’s bold. Bolder than any one you’ve ever met. You sputter but can’t come up with any words. 

“Please,” he pouts, “promise, I won’t try anything, I just gotta get these guys off my back.” 

He looks over his shoulder at the table of rowdy guys. You squirm in your seat, uncertain. You’ve never been to a party. Wow. 

“Here, I’ll get your number,” he taps on his phone screen, “I’ll send you the details--” 

“Leave her alone,” a grizzly voice undercuts the frat across from you. 

A thick man stands behind him. He has a cardboard cup in his hand as he glares down at the coed. His burly figure is swathed in a dark green sweater and grey slacks. He’s older and his dark curls are threaded with subtle twinkles of silver. 

“Huh? Who the hell are you?” 

“Why don’t you show her those pictures you were snapping of her? The ones you and your pals were laughing about?” The other man growls.  

You frown. What? You don’t understand what’s going on. You look from one to the other. The younger man sat across from your sighs and rolls his eyes. 

“Fuck it. Whatever. Lots of pigs to go around,” he shakes his head and stands, facing the other man. “You know, bro, just cause you’re too old to get with any ass around here, doesn’t mean you gotta ruin it for others.” 

“Get out of here,” the thicker man snarls. The other winces just slightly before puffing up his chest and stomping away. 

You remain as you are, aghast and lost. The man with the dark curls looks at you. You shrug at him. 

“I’m sorry, sir, did I do something wrong?” You ask. 

The harsh angles of his scowl ease and he lets out a long breath, “uh, no, not you. That boy, you know, any one that wears one of those jackets, they’re no good. Just some advice.” 

“Oh, right,” you look over at that guy, Colin, “sorry, I didn’t know. He just started talking to me. I was being polite.” 

“Seem like a nice girl. Just tryna look out for you.” 

“Yeah, thanks,” you chew your lip and sniff. “Are you... are you teacher?” 

“I’m a professor,” he confirms as he holds his cup close to his chest. He's one of the biggest men you’ve ever seen. And his eyes are as blue as the ocean. “Professor Marshall but unless you’re a psych student, you can call me Walter.” 

“Walter? My neighbour is Walter. At home. He’s eighty-one and he collects baseball cards,” you let yourself smile. You always felt more comfortable around older people. You never had many friends your own age. 

“Don’t mind some baseball myself,” he dips his chin. “Well, you look out for yourself and avoid the Greeks.” 

“Greeks?” You make a face. 

“Fraternities,” he says. “And sororities, if you can help it.” 

“Oh, okay. Thank you, sir,” you feel a little better. You think he’s right and he is a professor. He would know. “I’ll do that.” 

“Sir? It’s Walter,” he corrects you. 

“Oh, sorry, Walter,” you smile. “I’m Mauve.” 

He nods and shifts his cup, “Mauve,” he repeats, “well, nice to meet you.” 

“You too, sir, er, Walter. Thank you,” you say. 

He hesitates then steps back on his heel, “yeah, no problem.” 

He slowly retreats and you watch him, your heart playing like a drum. You did it. You spoke to strangers and you didn’t melt. Things are getting easier. If you could get through that, you’re sure you’ll make lots of friends in your classes. 

[prettyg00dtime]

i saw her. my best friends younger sister exiting from a bar she didn’t have any business being in. it’s a coincidence i’d seen her. I was out late and watched her stumbling drunk out the door alone. so i did what any respectable man would do and helped her to the backseat of my car. she didn’t even recognize who i was in that state, practically asleep before i tossed her on the seats.

I was going to take her home, obviously. but i kept glancing at her back there.. on her back, clearly passed the fuck out. i kept thinking about how hot she’d gotten. I’d watched the development myself; i’d been friends with her brother for years and watched her grow. for fucks sake, she was practically my sister as well.

that didn’t stop my dirty thoughts in the slightest. I tried to reason with myself, do the right thing, but next thing I knew i was pulling into a darkened isolated parking lot and stepping out of the car. I opened the back door and looked at her. legs spread, dress tight. I shouldn’t be doing this. I should be taking her home.

Against reason, I turned the overhead light on for a better view. she didn’t stir. slowly, i slid her dress up her thighs and around her stomach, pulling out my phone to take a photo. no harm in this. she would never even know… i snapped a few pictures, then tugged the top of her strapless dress down to get pictures of her tits as well. i rubbed my finger across her nipple and watched it harden, then did the same the the other. this was so wrong but i couldn’t stop taking pictures.

I couldn’t stop myself from rubbing her pussy slightly through her panties with my thumb. she moved a little and i pulled away, but when she remained passed out i continued, taking a video on my phone as I did. i rubbed up and down and across her clit, rubbing in circles, and felt the moistness on my fingers. she was getting so fucking wet I could feel it through her panties. I knew it was wrong but stop when i pulled them to the side, taking a video of my fingers against her slick hole in full view. She was soaking. i slid a finger into her, taken back by how tight she was, then another.

I fingered her for a few minutes, listening to her light moans, but knew I had to stop. this was so fucking wrong. what was wrong with me. my best friend would never forgive me if he found out and neither would she.

I knew this but still set my recording phone on the middle console to capture as I slid her dress and panties off her body and tossed them to my car floor. I looked around to ensure the parking lot was empty and slipped all my clothes of too. I wanted to feel her skin against mine. that was all. i wasn’t going to take it any farther.

I climbed on top of her and slid the head of my cock against her wet little cunt, massaging her clit. what’s the harm in just sliding the tip inside her? she would never know. and i was so hard thinking about her tightness now I could come at any second. I started fucking her with just the tip, and her tight pussy felt like it was sucking me in. I closed my eyes to take her in, and incidentally with each stroke I got deeper inside her until my balls were against her ass. well, i got this far. might as well go all the way.

I let out a deep groan as I started fucking her. I grabbed under each of her thighs and crushed her into mating press, stroking deep inside her. I was so lost in how she clenched around me I didn’t notice her waking up until she had both hands on my shoulders, pushing as hard as her drunken self could.

“carter..? what are you doing! stop get off me!”

I fucked harder into her, unable to grasp even a little regret for my actions. “mhh. I can’t. I’m sorry I can’t. I couldn’t help myself. fuck oh my god you’re taking me so deep”

we both watched my cock slide as deep as possible, and I grinded against her clit as she pulsated around me. she was shaking her head, beginning to cry. “you have to stop please, i don’t want this”

“god sweet little pussy. so tight and fuckable. you feel so good around me. i needed to fuck you. you got so wet when i touched you.”

I stroked into her harder, feeling her cunt wrap around me tighter despite her cries for me to stop. she banged against my chest, pushing with the all her might and i felt her pussy get even more slippery. she could do nothing but cry and watch as I pounded her. i leaned down and ran my tongue over her nipple as she thrashed.

“You like this shit, don’t you? listen to how sloppy your pussy sounds”

she arched against my chest with those words, crying tears of sorrow as she came hard all over my rapist cock. i knew she liked it.

“oh yeah good fuck doll. cum all over my dick.”

she looked humiliated as she rode out her orgasm, accidentally grinding her pussy against me and forcing me even deeper.

I tightened my grip on her thighs, fucking into her with everything I had in me. I could see the remnants of her cum coating my dick. “Creamy little pussy. I’m going to make it fucking creamier.”

When she heard that, she started screaming, flailing her pinned legs and shoving against me. “no no no! carter you can’t! please get off me please! you can’t do this, i’m not on birth control please!”

I didn’t slow down. “fuckk i can’t stop myself. you’re milking me so tight. I’m going to drain my balls in you.”

“please don’t do this! i’m begging you”

“I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant”

I slammed against her and unloaded years of friendly tension into her cunt, pressing in multiple times and not stopping until I was sure it was all stuffed against her cervix. I grinded into her for a few seconds to feel her clenching around me, drinking in my cum. before I slipped off her and grabbed my phone from my middle console, ensuring i’d gotten the creampie on tape. i tossed her dress over her body. she hadn’t moved from on her back.

“get dressed, whore. you don’t want your brother to see you like that when i drop you off at home.”

[bamboobooshark]

Hiiii I just found your page and omg I love your writing so much. I actually did get into an argument with my friend, and I deactivated one of my intas cuz of it (long and stupid story) but it was really comforting to read Logan wanting to coddle and comfort someone yk

You can ignore the request if it makes you uncomfortable, but do you think you can write something where the reader doesn't really know or understand what regression is or why they feel this way so they isolate when they feel childish or playful or start annoying people without realizing it and Logan who loves and cares for them starts to miss them and is like wtf and helps them.

Thank you for your writing I hope you have an amazing day.

LOGAN HOWLETT X LITTLE!READER

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ☁️་༘ COMFORT & CONFUSION : 991 WRDS

<RATING : PG, VULENRABLE MOMENTS, CRYING>

A/N : Just a little note for Anon; I am so heavily greatful that my fic was able to bring you so much comfort. I hope you’re recovering well from what happened. Apologies for taking so long to get this out for you, I always get caught up in spilling and detailing my concepts that end up becoming full fics. I truly hope this fic is what you were hoping for <3 !!Warning for a pinch of angst and crying!!

You’ve been isolating yourself in your room since you woke up. You feel so confused with yourself, with your mind, with your feelings. You press your back against your headboard, legs crossed one on top of the other. You gently rock back and forth while struggling to understand how you’re feeling; why you’re feeling the way you do. Yeah, you’ve got a ton of energy right now. You feel like you’re letting your inner child express itself in your mind, yet you’re holding them in as best as possible. You’re terrified of annoying anyone by releasing those feelings, espically Logan. You bite and chew at your lips nervously as you rock a bit faster. Why? That’s the only question you can ask yourself right now. Over and over, your mind fills itself with nothing but confusion of why you feel like this, why you yearn to be so childish, why you’re scared of annoying Logan when he loves you unconditionally.

You’re quickly snapped out of your thoughts as the man knocks on the door. “Everything alright in there, kid,” he asks with his face pressed to the wood. God, the way he calls you kid only makes these foreign feelings harder to suppress. You choke back your tears before responding. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just feeling a little down,” you reply with a tone that’s involuntarily soft and childlike. Logan raises his brows at the way you speak to him. You’ve never kept yourself away like this, but he’s been noticing a pattern lately. You isolate yourself the moment you wake up, beg him to leave you alone, and then come out quiet and reserved. He continues to press because he misses you so damn bad. He’s willing to do absolutely anything to get you in his arms again. “Please tell me what’s wrong, bub. I promise I’m not going to be upset with you,” he pleads with the softest tone he can force out of his throat. “I mean, I’d be more upset if you didn’t trust me with whatever you’ve got going on,” he chuckles akwardly.

You wipe your tears before inviting him in. The second he realizes that you’re crying, his lips form a frown and his eyes give you a sympathetic gaze. “Hey, hey, hey. Don’t cry, baby. I’m right here. I’m not leaving, I swear,” he scrambles to reassure you, sitting on your bed and pulling you into his arms. You let your cries get thicker once you lean into his. He smells so fatherly. His large, calloused hands make your entire body shiver with comfort. Everything about him is sending an unknown, unfamiliar feeling that you’ve been yearning for. You can’t even begin to imagine what to call it, but your body allows you to relax under his touch. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out. Tell me what’s up once you’re ready to,” he coos as his hands rub up and down your back. You nod against his chest, letting the thumping of his heartbeat soothe you.

You pull back from his embrace, but hold his hands in your own. His touch is what you’ve been needing. Scratch that, you’ve been needing Logan in general. You attempt to try and explain things, but you end up stammering and stuttering. “I’m sorry, Logan. I just — I don’t even know what to say,” you apologize while looking away from him. He squeezes your hands gently and sighs. “You don’t need to apologize, kid. I’ll be here as long as you need me to be. If I have to wait here for hours for you to get your thoughts together, I don’t mind. You know that, bub,” he tells you sincerely. You look at him and give him the best smile you can considering the circumstances.

You take a deep, shakey breath after a few minutes of silence before attempting to describe your feelings. “I’ve just been feeling like a child lately. I’ve had so much energy and excitement and joy for no reason. It’s so confusing and it’s scaring me Lo, it really is. I just want an answer,” you explain to him. His thumb rubs against your knuckles lovingly before he presses a silent kiss to your forehead. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry. You’ve got such a big heart, kid. I need you to understand that you don’t need to be afraid to let those feelings loose around me. I’ll love you no matter what,” he promises while holding your face in his hands so you’re looking at him. You nod gently, eyes glossy and wide from the way he comforts you so paternally. “I understand,” you mumble back, letting that same childlike voice slip. Logan gives you a gentle smile, failing to hold back a snicker. “Well would you look at that. You sound so little, baby. It’s adorable,” he says while attempting to hold himself back from squeezing your face. You giggle softly and shake your head no. “It’s not adorable, Lo,” you protest. Your stomach knots as you allow yourself to slip into this pure, innocent state. As soon as Logan begins to coddle you further, that knot unties itself and becomes a flutter in your heart. “If you deny anything else I say, I’ll have to find a way to get back at you for it. You’re too damn cute to not accept that you are,” he playfully threatens. “C’mere you sweet thing,” he growls as he pulls you into his lap. “No! Let me go,” you giggle sweetly, squirming in Logan’s arms despite wanting to stay right where you are forever. “I’m not letting you go, kid. You’re mine. My sweet little thing that I’ll protect with my life,” he declares before starting to pepper your face with soft kisses. You can feel him smiling like an idiot against your skin from the sound of your giggles, the way you smile, and the warmth of your face caused by him.

[rebelcracker-s]

yapping about the welcome home 10/18 update because i am so incredibly normal

Hello neighbors! Not exactly my usual content, but since when was I consistent :P I have a lot of thoughts about the new Welcome Home update, so I thought I’d make a post discussing my thoughts n findings, and try to analyze them to make sense of Welcome Home. 

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!

First of all, right off the bat, on the first page of the storybook, you can see this:

All of these dots in white diamonds are meant to represent eyes, like the Looky-Loo branding alludes to. While they’re all mostly looking in different directions, we have these two who are looking right at the reader. I think these are meant to represent Wally’s eyes. Since we know from the hidden audios from the June ‘23 update that Wally can see through every drawing of his eyes, it looks like Wally is watching us or at least W through the storybook. It’s a tiny detail but so creepy nonetheless!

I want to focus on the end of W’s version of the storybook rather than the contents of the storybook, but I loved seeing a story centered around Sally and some depictions of Sally & Poppy’s dynamic! (Also Eddie calling Sally rude—THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING. Based eddie tho LOL) I also loved seeing the neighbors all being so eager to help Poppy, but oh my goodness, the way that they did it… YIKES. Poor Poppy…

It’s so interesting that we’re seeing the characters one by one realize that something is wrong with their neighborhood—first Sally in last year’s Halloween update, then Eddie in the Homewarming update, now Poppy. 

It’s also interesting how Eddie and Poppy’s episodes(?) parallel each other. First of all, they very clearly focus on isolation from the rest of the neighborhood. Eddie loses all perception of the other neighbors, and the “single pea on a plate” represents his isolation from everyone else. Poppy is literally bricked off from the other neighbors, and she can’t hear them and vice versa until she screams and the door is opened.

The second interesting thing is that both of these episodes have Home involved. Eddie gets uncomfortable and immediately finds himself staring down Home even though he’s inside them. Poppy hears knocks, doors opening, and doorknobs turning—all of which are methods Home uses to communicate. I don’t know if Home is meant to be a metaphor for isolation or a genuine antagonistic force trying to corner the characters when they’re alone and at their weakest. Maybe both? 

Still, I was considering that the character who scares Poppy at the end of the storybook audio could also be one and the same with the “monster” (in quotations because it’s unclear whether this is an actual monster) Sally talked about in last year’s Halloween update. That would create a common thread between the two Halloween updates. Still, I’m not sure what that monster is meant to represent and if it is supposed to mean Home or something related to them, like the weird portal underneath it…

Third, it’s very interesting how the two episodes end. Both Eddie and Poppy are brought out of the episodes by the intervention of the other neighbors. But it’s not just any neighbors—both times, it’s Sally and Frank. Sally is the neighbor who notices something is up with Eddie first; she brings him to the Homewarming party, then pulls Frank over to Eddie at the end of Eddie’s episode. When Poppy’s episode ends, we hear two neighbors asking about her. It’s not explicitly stated whose voices they are in the transcript, but it’s clearly Sally and Frank.

Sally and Frank are a really interesting pair; their canon interactions include them getting into a physical fight over song lyrics. But somehow, we’ve seen them twice breaking up these episodes. They don’t appear to be as close as Frank is with Eddie or as Sally is with Poppy, but it would be a very weird coincidence if this was an accident both times. 

I strongly believe that Sally and Frank are both aware of what’s happening and trying to work together to either gain a bigger understanding of it, protect the other neighbors, etc. (I also have a theory that Howdy is in on it too, but I won’t focus on that right now.) This is why we see them coming to both Eddie and Poppy’s aid after their episodes. 

Another thing!! Connections to other literature seem to be really important in the lore of Welcome Home, so it’s not a throwaway that the play Sally puts on is Tell-Tale Heart. I don’t know a lot about Tell-Tale Heart, but it appears to be about a character who kills a man and buries his still-beating heart under the floorboards, only to be driven mad by the sound. I’m pretty sure we’ve heard Home’s heartbeat before, so I wonder if Tell-Tale Heart is supposed to connect to them… I’ve seen people connect it to Cask of Amontillado, but I’ve never even heard of that so I’ll let other theorists tackle that for now.

On a final note, Wally saying that “everything is as it should be” as the last line of the storybook…completely creeps me out!!!

That’s all for now. I should probably update my other theory soon lol 

[blackleatherjacketz]

All Better

Eric Northman x Female Reader

Summary: You miss a meeting because you're sick, and Eric makes a house call to make you feel better.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Eric being Eric, Strep Throat, Antibiotics, Shoving, Blaming, Kissing, Glamoring, Hypnotizing, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Healing Vampire Blood, Blood Drinking, Biting, Vampirism, Nipple Play, Licking, Cunnilingus, Female Orgasm

Read more Eric!

“You don’t look very good.” Eric states the obvious as his brows knit together in a look of, wait a minute, is that… concern that you’re seeing on his face? It must be the medication you’re on that’s blurring your vision and dulling your senses, because you’re pretty sure that ‘concern’ isn’t in Eric Northman’s emotional repertoire. “What’s wrong with you?”

It isn’t until he pushes you up against the wall, staring at your pale face as beads of sweat run down your temples that he understands why you didn’t show up to Fangtasia tonight or bother answering your phone when he called. The realization of your illness slowly melts that concerned look of his into a stoic expression of understanding, allowing his pupils to expand just the slightest bit before his lips part in silence.

“I’m just sick, it’s nothing.” You try to look away from him, tempted to fall back into your old habit of isolating yourself when falling ill, only he grabs hold of your chin to prevent that from happening.

“Sick, how?” That sense of understanding gets washed away in a flash, his brief display of genuine emotion quickly covered up by his usual curt and cutting tone.

“It’s just an infection, I know I should have called, I just didn’t think you’d…”

“Didn’t think I’d what?” He tightens his grip on your chin, bringing his face closer to yours. “Didn’t think I’d notice that my favorite human wasn’t there to greet me tonight?”

Favorite human? Did you hear that right? You can’t help but raise your eyebrows in surprise as he admits it out loud, albeit through gritted teeth.

“I was too weak to drive out there, I…” You mutter as his cool grip on your face chills you even more, forcing your body to shiver in its febrile state.

“Then let me heal you.” He offers, his eyes scanning over your shaking form before he brings his wrist up to his mouth.

“What?” Your arrangement with Eric has always been very simple; you show up once a week to let him feed on you and he pays you enough money to cover your mortgage each month. It had never been more than that though, never crossed any other carnal line despite your secret desire for more intimacy with him. He had never once offered you his own blood before, and the idea of it still kind of scares you, if you’re being honest with yourself. “Heal me?”

“So you won’t be sick anymore.” He loosens his grip on your face, his hand falling loosely around your neck.

“I’m on antibiotics, Eric, I don’t need your blood.” You attempt to walk away from him but he places his palm flat across your chest, forcing you back into position against the wall. Even his restrained amount of strength is too much for your weakened muscles to withstand as you wince in pain.

“Let me heal you.” He stares into your eyes, accessing your subconscious mind as you can’t help but stare right back, too tired to put up any sort of emotional barrier between the two of you. You’ve seen him do this to others before, convincing them to do whatever he wanted, whether that be to pay him back, run away or even kill someone for him. You just never thought he’d do it to you.

“Okay,” You hear yourself whisper almost immediately before taking his hand and leading him to the couch at the far end of your living room. You watch him sit down as if he’s already been there dozens of times before, as if he’s lived there with you already, as if he owns the place. You feel him pull you onto his lap, guiding your hips and thighs so that you’re now straddling him in the middle of your couch as his hands carefully smooth their way up your back.

“You’re shivering.” He grins as you settle into him, your pelvis slowly rocking against his hips as his hands find their way into your hair. “I can fix that.”

“Yeah?” As scary as the idea of drinking his blood is, the thought of letting this feverish hell continue any longer seems way worse.

“Let me take care of you.” Eric fumbles through the random items on the side table closest to him until he finds something sharp at his disposal: a ball point pen. He pushes the cap off with his thumb, smiles up at you before jabbing the pen into his neck so quickly, you barely have a chance to register what’s happening before he pulls you in closer. “Now, drink.”

You gasp as your heart races in a confused sense of horror, watching droplets of his blood ooze out of his wound and down the porcelain skin of his neck. Your lips begin to tremble as his fingers weave their way into your hair, pushing your mouth in closer to his throat as you attempt to fight your body’s natural panic response.

“Drink.” He instructs again, only this time more sternly.

Having no other choice but to do as you’re told, you open your mouth and lick the droplets of blood from his neck as he continues to hold you in place. It tastes a little better than you thought it would, a sort of salty mixture with hints of iron and blackberry wine that leaves a surprisingly pleasant aftertaste on the back of your tongue. Kind of like a rich Cabernet.

Well, that’s not so bad, now is it?

You open up again and start down at his clavicle this time, making sure to clean up any remnants of the fluid until you get all the way up to the puncture site, greedily suckling straight from the source. You can hear him moan as you lap him up, feel his grip on your hair tighten as you consume him, getting lost in the closeness of your bodies and the binding of your fluids. You’re sure that he can hear your heart beating wildly inside your chest, thumping hard against his as you wrap your arms around his torso to get even closer to him. You can feel his blood working inside you, healing you on a cellular level; each vampiric red blood cell eradicating any bacteria into oblivion as the weakness leaves your muscles and the pain dissipates from your throat.

“Enough,” he whispers reluctantly, now having to pull your mouth off him. “That’s enough, sweetheart.”

His words barely bring you out of your trance, his salty flesh no longer beneath your tongue as he tugs on your scalp to get you to finally stop drinking. It’s almost as if you’ve been brought back to reality after having one of the most intense dreams you’ve ever had as you watch his wound heal just as quickly as he had made it. You’ll never get used to that.

“It worked.” You exclaim gratefully. “I feel better!”

“I told you.” Eric grins as he runs his thumb across your bottom lip, reminding you that you’ve made quite the mess of yourself. “This is why you have to let me take care of you.”

“I’m not very good at that.” You’ve always had to take care of yourself in the past. One lesson that life has taught you time and time again is that the second you start depending on someone is the very moment that you’ll be disappointed.

“I know, but you have to let me do it anyway.” His eyelids drop halfway down as he looks at you longingly, gazing upon you in a way that you’ve never noticed before.

Maybe it’s that look, or maybe it’s the high of his blood now coursing through your veins that makes you suddenly feel compelled to press your lips against his, letting that vampiric confidence guide your actions. You keep them there for a few seconds, realizing that he isn’t pulling away from you, but instead is kissing you back with just as much enthusiasm as he pulls tighter on your scalp.

You’ve always wanted to kiss him, from the very first moment that you saw him. But something about him told you that he had women throwing themselves at his feet left and right; and you didn’t want to be like one of them. You were just grateful for the little contact you got when he fed upon you each week. You relished every caress of your cheek, every squeeze of your waist that sent shivers down your spine before he ended up drinking his fill. You never thought that he’d be interested in you like this, that he’d actually want you in that type of way at all.

However, his tongue now parts your lips as his kiss intensifies, all but moaning the truth into your mouth as if he’s been waiting just as long to finally taste your lips. His kiss is desperate and sloppy, so different from the perfectly put together business man you first met that night at the bar. His composure casually crumbles to pieces as his hands travel all over your body, frantically grasping onto your muscles until they find themselves in your hair again, his lips curling into a deviously satisfied smirk.

You feel him grow beneath his jeans, his clothed member now brushing against the thin fabric of your underwear as his hips needily writhe against your junction. His deliberate movements trigger that moisture to collect between your thighs as he continues his rhythm upward with several shallow breaths. Now stained in his own blood, his mouth ventures over every inch of your lips and chin before moving down to your jawline, licking a trail alongside your pulse.

You whimper in response, grinding your needy center against him as you brace yourself for the bite that never comes. Instead he lifts your shirt up over your head, exposing your bare breasts to the cool temperature of the room as your nipples harden in front of his face.

“You’ve been holding out on me.” He teases, letting go of the rest of you so he can graze his palms across them, sending a much more intense tingling sensation down your spine.

“I didn’t know that you wanted to…” Your breath hitches as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard before wrapping his arms behind you and turning you on your back. He keeps contact with your skin the entire time, pulling on your sensitive tissue as he looks up at you with those eyes again, dragging your tender bud in between his teeth.

“Really?” He laughs with a smirk. He moves on to the next one before popping it into his mouth while pinching the other, sending a barrage of little fireworks into your skin. “You think I make feeding contracts lightly?”

“No, I uhh…” Your back arches toward the ceiling as he sucks bursts of delight into your tissues, humming a sweet vibration against your skin as you all but melt beneath him. Pleasure being the last sensation you expect to get from Eric’s mouth, you can’t help but feel a little breathless as his fingers simultaneously tug your underwear down your hips as they instinctively lift off the couch cushion to aid in their removal. “It’s hard for me to tell sometimes.”

“You thought I didn’t want you?” He licks a languid path down your quaking abdomen as your muscles contract in hurried anticipation, beads of sweat popping up in his wake. He circles around your navel with his tongue, kissing a hungry trail down your pelvis while his hands help slide your panties off your calves and feet. He smiles and spreads your thighs as far apart as they can go, straining your muscles as he stares at you like a jungle cat would its prey before it pounces. “Looks like I could be a better communicator.”

His fangs drop and his eyes darken, wasting no time in settling between your thighs to take the bite you were wondering would ever come at all. Instead of sinking his fangs into your femoral artery to get the most blood in the least amount of time, though, he bites you just above your swollen center. He laughs as you yelp from the piercing pain, letting that red hot fluid spill down your already dripping wet seam before he dives in to finally taste it.

That cold, blood-thirsty vampire that you’ve known for the past few weeks finally comes out as he starts licking streaks of crimson up and down your puffy lips, spreading the blood and gore into your folds as his tongue delivers that tantalizing balance of pain and pleasure that you’ve only read about in books. He growls like the creature of the night that he is as he devours you, snaking his arms beneath your thighs to pull you in even closer as his mouth delves into your flesh. Unable to be sated, he flicks his tongue up and down your sensitive clit, sending signals of ecstasy up through your spine and into your brain as your eyes flutter with visions of shapes and colors you never knew existed.

Maybe it’s the vampire blood pumping through your veins for the very first time, or maybe it’s Eric’s skilled mouth that forces your eyes to roll back into your head. The way he keeps eating and drinking makes it feel as if each and every tiny hair on your skin is now alive, standing on end waiting for him to touch them, to give them permission to explode until your entire body begins to shake. You reach out for him in vain as the otherworldly sense of euphoria washes over you, forcing every muscle in your body to convulse in rhythmic waves as he relentlessly drinks from your bloody cunt. He glances up at you only to grin as your skin changes color, warming and cooling in phases as your orgasm violently works its way through your skin and bones and finally out of your mouth.

“Eric!” You cry out as he finally pulls back from you, licking his lips as you rattle and hum in the crimson mess he’s made of you. “Oh my God, Eric!”

“See?” He smirks as he watches you come down from your hormonal high, running your hands through his hair as he finally gives your bloody center one last lick. “All better.”

[itz-mfkn-de]

mattheo x hufflepuff innocent naive type reader 🫡

AHH I LOVE THESE TWO TG🥳🥳 I hope you wanted a toxic Mattheo because that’s what my brain envisions so 🤗 for some reason I couldn’t think of like a story line so I kinda did like headcanons but at the same time it’s like not??? Idk I just hope you like it 😭

Warnings: toxic! Mattheo, manipulations, cussing, power play, black mail.

—

Mattheo riddle who’s never really cared for any of the girls he’d fuck, all of them were just trophies on his wall. (Quite literally, toxic! Mattheo steals a bra from every girl he fucks and puts the up on his wall.)

He saw sex as an outlet, a way to destress, so sex with no strings attached was a common thing in his everyday life to say the least.

That was until he’d saw you.

He could’ve sworn in that moment his heart dropped —to his dick. He was enamored by your pure innocence. The way your hair framed your face, your eyes, everything screamed…virgin. To be completely honest, Mattheo didn’t really care for inexperienced girls; he found such a waste of time. But you? You were a different case.

Toxic! Mattheo who follows you into the library one evening and sees you studying for an upcoming test.

He took only a few long strides too reach you, quick to feign a friendly look.

“Hello, I couldn’t help but notice you were going over some test notes.” He stated while he loomed over your smaller frame.

All you could offer him in response was a meek “yes”.

He quickly inserted himself into your everyday life after that. Study parter, seating chart, shoulder to lean on, you name it and he was there right next to you.

He sugar coated his entire persona, never once lashing out or showing any red flags.

And then you got together. And on boy, did all hell break lose.

Mattheo was controlling. You wanted to go to a study group with some friends? Why, it’s not like he was there? You just want to leave him. He ould feed these thoughts into your head until you’d feel too guilty to leave him.

Not only was he controlling but he was manipulative. You wouldn’t leave your dorm if he didn’t thrill your outfit was appropriate. You belonged to him, so why were you trying to impress other guys? Why did you want him to get angry at you, he just can’t stay happy when you ‘go out dressed Like a slut.’ And you being the sweet, naive, girlfriend you were, you’d go change and beg for his forgiveness. Hoe could you have been so selfish and hurt him like that?

He knew just how to make you bend to his every word, he’d sweet yell and talk down at you just to shower you in affection. He knew you loved him, you relied on him. And he was right, you did.

He’d pressure you to leave your friends if they suggested leaving him, because ‘they just want to tear us apart, why can’t you see that?’. You just wanted your boyfriend to be happy :(

You’d beg him to stop smoking which would only lead to him screaming at you for acting like his mother. You don’t control him, don’t act like you do. You’d walk away crying which hed coo at you for, walking up to you to wipe your tears and comfort you for the pain he caused.

You’d become so isolated from your friends that you’d depend solely on him, your feeling and thoughts all controlled by Mattheo. You were his angel, and he made sure it was known you were his, fighting any guy who’d even dare to look at you. You tried reasoning with him once and it ended in him not taking to you for the entire day.

You were never allowed to talk to other guys, unless it was his best friends which even then, had to be supervised. He was all you needed.

Oh and don’t you ever think of leaving him. He’d be the kind of guy to take pictures of you while you were fucking, and if you tried to leave him he’d threaten to send it to every body in the school. You’d never mention leaving him again. W

At the end of the day, you were the sweet Hufflepuff girl who Mattheo riddle had absolutely ruined.

[bunni-v1]

the latest post was real funny lmaoo, do u think u could also write abt the 2nd and 3rd years finding out the prefect is a girl? doesn't have to be immediate, take ur time <3

Second Years Find out You’re a Girl?!?!? (NOT CLICKBAIT) 

TW: Swearing; You have a smell (Ruggie); Floyd and Jade; Bunni can’t write Silver lol

Info: Ruggie, Jade, Floyd, Jamil, and Silver x Reader (Separate; Platonic/Romantic)

🍓Hiiii. Skip the intro if this isn’t ur first rodeo and buckle up cowboys (and cowgirls, and cowtheys, and cows). There is a notable lack of third years and dorm leaders because!!! They get their own part rip. I will (eventually) add links to the other parts, but I have a lot of homework to catch up on from being sick all week so it has to wait :). BTW it's long, but each part is pretty even. Love you all enjoyyyyy <3

First Years

Ortho & Sebek

Third Years

Dorm Leaders

-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?

-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.

-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.

-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)

-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)

-So how do you two do it?

-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.

-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.

-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)

-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.

-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 

-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.

-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.

-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.

-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!

-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.

-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…

-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.

-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).

-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.

-So… how do they find out?

Ruggie

-Ruggie is… unique when compared to Jack. 

-The three beastmen in the cast are all oddballs in this case, but I feel Ruggie is the oddest.

-See, Ruggie finds out nearly immediately. I’m talking like… first day when you and Grim set the school on fire immediately.

-It’s my personal belief that he has the strongest nose between Leona, himself, and Jack so he doesn’t have to be close to smell that something is different about you.

-Now he wasn’t sure for sure. The smell of a person, especially humans, has a lot of factors playing in them. Plus the fact that you’re… not exactly a normal member of Twisted Wonderland’s Society.

-But he had a hunch. That hunch was only confirmed when he decided to steal your sandwich for Leona. 

-He got a nice big ol’ whiff of your smell, and he won’t lie and say it didn’t throw him off, for a second. He almost lost control of his spell on you.

-Luckily he didn’t, he got his sandwich and got away, but it left him with a lot to think about.

-(Bunni interjecting opinion here, my bad) See, Ruggie isn’t exactly afraid of the women in his cackle. They’re civilized people, after all, they’re not out there beating on every guy they see, but they are kind of intimidating.

-He was raised to respect and fear women by his granny, and he’s never really had anything that directly opposed that moral code impeded in him.

-That was until you started to get a little too involved in sniffing Leona and him out for injuring other students.

-Why couldn’t you keep that stupid little nose of yours where it belongs, huh? You’re making more trouble than it’s worth.

-Tries a ton of different ways to scare you off for your own good, but you are damn stubborn and Ruggie both hates and admires you for it.

-You figure he and Leona both know you’re a girl. Hell, Leona outright implies it every time he sees you (thank god your friends of choice are morons). 

-Ruggie though? He looks at you weirdly. You can’t be sure, but he’s a bit more cautious around you. Careful he doesn’t hurt you, but also sure to give you a spook or two when he needs.

-It’s all so odd.

-It’s not till Leona overblots that both of you get your closure. 

-Both you and Ruggie are left alone to recover after your friends leave and Leona’s family drags him away for forced bonding time.

-He can’t help but test the waters.

-“Yer weird y’know.”

“Gee, thanks. That’s how you talk to the guy who saved your life earlier.”

“Hey, that’s how I talk to everyone. Don’t matter if you saved my life or not.”

“Whatever. What's so weird about me then.”

“Why’re ya hidin’ who ya really are.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Yeah, ya do, yer the one who was insistent on that gym shirt that’s clearly three times yer size.”

“…

…..

…Fiiiiine. You got me.”

-He’s smug about it for the longest time too. Constantly cracking jokes and poking fun at you.

-Honestly, it's the start of a really cute friendship! 

-You two are far more chill and friendly after Leona’s overblot. So much so that Grim, Ace, and Deuce call it into question, but he won’t tell if you don’t.

-Besides, you need a good friend to hang around where you don’t have to constantly hide who you are all the time.

-He’s the chill presence that you need on campus, and he’ll keep his mouth shut with no problem. (So long as you keep providing him that sweet, free lunch).

Jade

-He doesn’t think you’re too good at keeping secrets.

-Unlike the beast men, he doesn’t have an amazing nose. In fact, Jade would say his smelling ability is rather lackluster compared to Floyd or Azul. 

-However, he has a crazy scary intuition.

-He doesn’t know right away, of course. He doesn’t have x-ray vision to see through your baggy uniform.

-What gives it away for Jade is your mannerisms. The way you react to different things your more… masculine peers do or say. The discomfort on your face with the more touchy-feely students on campus.

-To our lovely (bastard) Jade, it's all a dead giveaway. He knows by the start of book three when you first make your deal with Azul.

-It’s like he’s looking through you in that crowded little office. His gaze and placid smile pierced through your skin.

-He won’t say anything to anyone though. What fun would that be? 

-To him, it's quite funny seeing how unaware both he and your friends are of the truth.

-He gives you the chills every time he’s around you, but he’s not giving you any reason to believe he knows anything more than what you’ve told him.

-He uses the correct pronouns and treats you as he would anyone else. The only thing is that he’s got this knowing glimmer in his eyes.

-It scares you. Not in the ‘oh god he’s gonna do something to me,’ way, but in the ‘Oh god he’s looking at me again, why is he looking at me again’ kinda way.

-He really does not give you an inkling of an idea that he knows. Just stares at you, smiling like a creepy doll.

-Eventually though, at some point after Azul’s overblot, he corners you (quite literally).

-You honestly think he’s about to kill you, he’s very tall and his face doesn’t change as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

-“Your secret is safe with me.”

-And he walks away.

-What. The. Fuck. Honestly, the scariest thing he could’ve done. Scarier than anything Floyd could ever do honestly.

-To his credit though, your secret is safe with him! Floyd and Azul find out completely on their own, and in fact act surprised when you ask if Jade was the one who told them.

-And honestly, if you can ignore how scary his smile is, he’s always lovely to talk to when you’re in his serving section at the lounge.

-He’s actually the one who convinced Azul to give you a part-time gig when you tell him about your… difficulties affording Sam’s prices.

-Makes sure that your uniform fits the way that makes you most comfortable, and keeps the more rowdy customers AND servers (including Floyd) away from you.

-Very kind! Very weird! 

-When you ask him why, he just tells you, “What’s the fun in letting our little secret get out.”

-Creepy! But at least you’re sort of safe around him.

Floyd

-Now, I am aware that Floyd is a very smart person. As smart as both Jade and Azul, in fact.

-However, homie has ADHD like crazy, and if something doesn’t have his attention he is not learning anything about it.

-Therefore, when it comes to you being female, it takes him a little longer than Jade and Azul to figure it out.

-You don’t really pique his interest for a while. Sure, you’re from a different dimension and all, and you’re a magicless student at one of the most prestigious magic schools ever, and you defeated two of the strongest students at NRC’s overblots.

-So what! Who cares! Certainly not Floyd!.

-You don’t interest him, plain and simple. He finds you kinda boring beyond all that “superficial” stuff out of your control.

-That is honestly for the best, you think, You sort of have Jade’s attention already, and that’s scary enough for you.

-You’ve heard the terrifying tales of what Floyd does to Riddle, you’d rather not be an object of his “affections.”

-It’s not until he’s forced to pay attention to you that he gets… interested. (Yayy for you!)

-It’s not immediate, of course. 

-He thinks you signing the contract with Azul so confidently is really funny. 

-Your determination to pretend you’re not scared of him and Jade is kinda cute, sure.

-When he realizes you’ve caught Jade’s eye he really starts to wonder about you.

-What is so interesting about you that Jade, his brother who only ever really liked peculiar people, has been keeping an eye on you like you’re his prey or something?

It really makes him think, but he doesn’t get it. Seriously. What's so different about you.

-Realizes what’s up when your baggy uniform manages to hug just the right place just long enough that he notices in the heat of battle.

-He gets it now, Jade. How silly you are, little shrimpy, hiding something like that from everyone.

-Suddenly, after Azul recovers from his overblot, Floyd is really friendly with you. 

-Not even in the creepy, stalker-ish way that a lot of people like to portray him as. (Though he does, in fact, do a lot of creepy stalker-ish things. It’s in his blood, he’s an underwater predator after all.)

-It’s more like a really, overly excited, not well-trained puppy who just wants attention from its (new) favorite person.

-And, you have to admit, he can be pretty pleasant to be around when he’s in a good mood! He’s funny, easy to talk to, and always has something fun he wants to do.

-It’s annoying to him that everyone gets in the way of him talking to you, though. He’s not gonna hurt you or anything, just wants to give you a squeeze is all.

Jamil

-Jamil has literally no reason to interact with you, ever.

-He, quite honestly, tries to avoid you at all costs.

-Trouble seems to follow you everywhere you go, and with Kalim always trailing him like a puppy, it’s not a mixture he wants to deal with.

-So, Jamil doesn’t know. Nor does he care to know at all. He doesn’t want to know anything about you.

-Alas, you both attend NRC. Nothing goes well at NRC.

-So, you bump into him in the kitchen during winter break. 

-If he’s completely honest, you are incredibly nice and easy to be around. Smarter than he’d thought too, seems that your bad luck only comes from your goodness of heart.

-It couldn’t hurt to let you eat with the rest of the dorm just this once… could it.

-It could. It very much could.

-It’s in his nature to be observant. He easily picks up on people's mannerisms and tells them so he can adjust to them as quickly as possible.

-Your mannerisms, however, are particularly different from every other guy on campus. 

-You act more like you belong in Pomefiore in a lot of ways, and you tend to flinch at the slightest bit of contact.

-You keep your distance, wear baggy clothes, and your voice sometimes sounds really strained.

-All of these things are odd, but… everyone at NRC is a little weird. He’s a little weird.

-So what. He writes it off and moves on.

-That is until he has to give you the Scarabia uniform after pointedly deciding to kidnap you for a while.

-Your very visible discomfort at the idea of having to wear the new clothes, which he picked specifically to be closer to your actual size, was quite a big giveaway for him.

-He simply smiles and hums and goes to fetch you something a little bigger, for your comfort. He’s not a monster after all! He wouldn’t want a young lady to be uncomfortable around him.

-Keeps it to himself, like a little prize. He was the only one who knew, and he wanted to keep it that way for a while without letting you know.

-It was for no reason other than to fuel that ever-growing ego in his chest.

-However, he gets a little annoyed when Kalim asks him if he thinks you’re a girl or not. He also gets very annoyed when you outwit him and fly to Octanivelle for help.

-Then he finds out that not only did Kalim manage to figure it out on his own, but Jade, Floyd, and Azul have known for ages now.

-It’s just a fun little bonus stressor that adds to his ultimate overblot.

-The overblot in which he exposes your secret to the whole of Scarabia. The overblot where he is just a little too creepy for you to be okay with him for a while.

-Needless to say, you do not have a good relationship with Jamil after all of that.

-He does, however, apologize properly for what he did during his overblot during the music training camp arc.

-You two never really fix things, but you become amicable enough. 

Jamil doesn’t really care enough to try and out you to the rest of NRC, but he does owe you a semblance of kindness thanks to what he put you through.

-So he makes sure Scarabia students and Kalim don’t go yapping to everyone after school starts up again.

🍓I have to be fully honest before I write this, I don’t… know how to write silver. I’m not up to date with chapter seven, and he hardly has any in-game content, so I’m sorry if I got him wrong. I’m trying my best to learn the Diasomania characters, but I don’t have the time to sit down and read ALL of chapter seven. (I do, however, have the time to get about 30 hrs a week on Mercy overwatch so maybe I should get my priorities straight…)🍓

Silver

-Silver is one of the last people to find out on campus.

-Not only do you never hang out with the Diasomnia students (other than Malleus), but you and Silver have absolutely nothing to talk about.

-He’s always in a weird sleep-fueled daze, and he’s super quiet and stern. He’s not exactly an easy guy to talk to, but he is nice when you do talk to him.

-The greatest extent to which you’ve interacted with him is through Lilia, and you hardly interact with Lilia outside of Malleus.

-So yeah… Silver doesn’t really have a chance to find out on his own.

-Besides, even if he did suspect something, he’s too upstanding and nice to bother asking you about it.

-Like Jack, he would just assume you were trans, or you’d tell him if you wanted to tell him. 

-Besides, gender isn’t all that big of a concern at NRC, let alone for someone who was raised by a pretty open-minded guy like Lilia.

-So, really, Silver has no reason to suspect or ask anything at all.

-However… he does… overhear Lilia talking about something like that with Malleus.

-More specifically, Lilia scolded Malleus and made him promise not to say anything to anyone else. (Silver wonders who he might’ve spilled to…)

-It’s not like it’s his business. You two aren’t super duper close or anything. He’s a royal guard anyway, he can keep his mouth shut. Besides, he could’ve just misheard the conversation.

-.

-..

-…

-….He’s kinda curious though. Damn his human nature, he just wants to know that’s all.

-So, he asks you outright one day.

-“Are you a girl?”

“…No hello?”

-He doesn’t get why you’d hide something like that. Women are strong, what’s the point in hiding that you’re a woman.

-You explain it to him, and suddenly he’s much more sympathetic.

-Offers to protect you if you ever need it out of the goodness of his heart. (What a sweetie)

-Otherwise, he doesn’t change all that much, maybe waves at you in the halls now, but he’s not going out of his way to talk to you unless you want him to.

-He’s another good guy <3

[trippinsorrows]

midnight sun + two

authors note: really wasn't expecting the response and interest the first part received. thank you so much! 🥺 as previously stated, this is going to be heavy. please be mindful of your mental state before consuming this content.

words: 3.3k

warnings: angst, domestic violence, violence against women

song inspo: 'faithfully' by journey

one

It takes some digging. 

Requires blowing off some dust and the occasional angrily tossed objects, but he eventually finds it almost an hour into searching. The amount of time that could easily be used for other things, but none strike him as important as this. 

More dust has to be wiped off the box that he hasn’t seen or touched in over 15 years. 

Roman sits on the edge of the bed, careful with his movements, recognizing the fragility of the worn thing. Opened, there’s a strange feeling that settles over him seeing the contents, all drawings and artwork. But, it’s namely the largest item that lies at the bottom that evokes such emotions. Smaller pieces partially obscuring the view, slowly, his fingers move underneath it, gingerly pulling it out as he sets the box to the side and focuses on the item in hand.

A different time. A different person almost. Seeing the drawing of himself from that time in his life also brings up more confusing feelings.

Especially pertaining to the artist who created it for him. 

2003

Solitude has always been his companion, a preferred thing over most people in his life who don’t understand him. Who only mean him harm, pain, and betrayal.

That’s why one of the first things Roman did was confiscate and make the only loveseat in the common area his. A possession from day one that no one has seemed to question or challenge, largely because everyone knows why he’s here and subsequently don’t want to get on his bad side.

A smart decision.

It’s farther away from the rest of the seating options, another preferred thing that allows him to zone out with the help of the headphones over his ears. An escape. Isolation.

Solitude has been the only companion granted to him in this life. 

That and Rosalia. 

But, as she’s not an option anymore, so he settles for what remains.

Except, it’s short lived, because with expert peripheral vision, he’s witness to a scene unfolding. Roman doesn’t necessarily need to hit pause on his Walkman to see what’s going on, but he does it anyway. 

“Give it back!” Her voice is far too sweet, way too innocent. It makes him scowl. “Please!”

Roman directs more of his attention to the young girl he’s noticed in passing since his admission, the faded bruises on her face along with her bandaged wrists some of the first things to catch his attention.

It doesn’t take much to see why she’s there. 

She’s younger than him by almost four years at fourteen to his seventeen going on eighteen, but he also can’t ignore the fact that she looks older than what she is.

More developed than most girls her age.

And judging by the three pricks playing hot potato with her sketchbook, stupid looks on their equally stupid faces, he’d bet that’s why they’re messing with her. Sick enjoyment at the sight of her chest moving as she attempts to pry her book back. 

“Please!” She begs, and it only makes his scowl deepen. Her voice is annoying, but what’s more annoying is the fact that the fucking useless staff here are doing nothing to intervene. 

Not surprising though.

In Roman’s experience, adults don’t help out and protect children.

Just feed em’ to the wolves. 

Or are the wolves themselves. 

“You want it back?” One of them sneers, a haughty look on his pimpled face. “Show us your boobs.”

She freezes, terror rendering her still as she asks in a low voice, “w–what?”

“Yeah, show em!” 

“I bet they’re—”

Whatever was going to be said will never be known, it’ll never be known due to Roman decking the son of a bitch in the neck. The other dumbasses only further cement their stupidity by turning their glares onto him.

“You really fucked up.”

One goes to hit him, an easy dodge as Roman uses his elbow and rams it into the back of his head. The third is the most unlucky, Roman tossing him to the ground and pummelling him, a sick thrill filling him as he imagines someone else. 

Imagines it’s his piece of shit, abusive father underneath his unrelenting fist. Imagines it’s his blood spilling all over again, life fading from his pathetic body.

A sick fill, indeed. 

But, it’s short–lived, because security is yanking him off, yelling some shit at him that he doesn’t give two fucks about. 

“Get the fuck off me!” Roman overpowers the guards, sending them both to the floor and he moves to walk away, unsurprised that no one comes after him. Their goal was simply to separate and break up the fight, not penalize him for said altercation.

They know fucking better than to try that shit with him of all people.

The heir to the Bloodline Empire. An empire that now technically is already his with the “death” of his pussy of a father. 

A murder.

A murder done at his hands.

“Ummm.”

Roman has just sat back down on the sofa when he hears it again. That voice. Slightly less annoying but way too close. Because looking up, he sees she’s standing only a few feet away from him, hugging the sketchbook to her chest. 

And just like that, the scowl returns, “what the fuck do you want?”

She opens and closes her mouth, temporarily looking down almost in embarrassment. “I just….I wanted to say….thank you.”

Roman’s sneer falters just a bit. 

Thank you...

He can’t remember the last time someone other than his little sister uttered such words to him. 

If ever.

Confused as to whatever the fuck is coming up in him, he easily dismisses it and her. “Good. You said it. Now leave me the fuck alone.”

A glance at her face reveals a small frown that’s followed with her leaving  to walk away but not before she stops and turns around, a small, unsure smile replacing the frown. “I’m Solana, by the way.” He meets her gaze, warm locking with cold. “Solana Miller.”

And when she turns to walk away, it only makes sense he lets her do so. But, that’s not what happens. 

“Roman,” he’s offering for reasons unknown, weirdly settled in a sense by the return of her small smile. “Roman Reigns.”

—----

Present

Walking back into the coffee shop, it’s only then that Roman becomes more aware of just how much this place really does scream Solana. Soft, pastel colors make up the color schemes. Random artwork with color palettes that match the painting and positive quotes that match her.

It’s exactly the kind of place he’d expect to be hers. 

It’s when he walks over to the counter that he’s met with the one thing in here that is most definitely not Solana.

A young woman who looks like she either just walked out of a rave or satanic ceremony looks at him with icy blue eyes. Her black lips are curved into an almost mocking smile when she asks in an accented voice, “can I help you?”

Roman gives her a one over. She must be part of some damn work program. “Where’s Solana?”

The woman scoffs, crossing her surprisingly buff arms. It’s clear as day that she stays in the gym. “Why do you wanna know? I’m the manager. I can help you—”

“I don’t need you. I need Solana.”

He’s trying for the sake of not wanting to cause a scene at Solana’s place of business, but this Wednesday Adams looking bitch is really trying it. 

“How do you know her?” She suddenly asks, partially taking him by surprise. “I saw you here the other day talking to her. You two seemed…..friendly.”

It’s the fact that Roman didn’t notice this bitch that day as well as the fact that she’s snooping that has him putting her in her palace. “That’s none of your damn business.”

But, she doesn't cower away, instead metaphorically puffing out her chest. “Look, I know exactly who you are, and I don’t give a damn. Solana is one of my best friends. She’s already got one piece of shit man in her life. She doesn’t need any more.”

“You know her fiancé?” He asks, now interested in whatever information she might have. “Cody, right?”

She nods, a bitter expression on her face. “Unfortunately.”

Her response is very telling. “You don’t like him.”

The follow up answer is filled with an equal amount of disdain. “I don’t like any man who gets off on beating the shit out of women.”

It’s one thing to suspect, even know for oneself. But, it’s another to have it confirmed. Roman's fist forming at his side accompanies his clarifying question. “He hits her?”

She says nothing, and it’s then he picks up on the extent of her discomfort. She’s obviously unsure with how much to share and how much to withhold, even if she’s already shared more than expected.

“Look, Solana and I….” He fucking hates talking to people in general, especially about his personal life, but this woman clearly has information he needs to know. And while he’s certainly not above torture, it’s not the preferred route in this situation. “We were friends when we were younger, but we….we lost contact years ago.” He adds, voice genuine. “I have no intentions on hurting her.”

Never has. Never will.

“Solana won’t leave him,” she finally relents after a few minutes of silence. “She gets….defensive when you ask too many questions or try to call her out on all the bullshit excuses she makes for all the bruises and black eyes.” She shakes her head, a sudden sadness in her eyes. “He’s broken two of her ribs before, broke her nose, her her wrist, put her in casts. And she mostly chalks it up to bad falls.” Crossing her arms, she says in a quiet voice. “He’s going to kill her one day. I just….I just know it.”

When hell freezes over.

Imagining all the cruel and vile ways he’s going to dismember this son of a bitch, Roman inquires. “‘How the hell did they even get together?”

“She went to some fancy ass business owner thing about a year ago. They met there, and he pursued the hell out of her. At the time, she thought it was sweet. Looking back now, it’s obvious he was preying on her.”

Roman says nothing, taking in all of the information, something about that meeting, the fact that it was a business thing along with the name Cody, prompting him to ask. “Wait. Is her fiancé Cody Rhodes?”

She scoffs. “That’s him.” Roman looks away, cursing quietly. “Why?”

He remains silent, partially confused as to what Solana could have ever seen in someone like Cody but also now recognizing that killing him won’t be as easy as he initially thought.

Because Roman knew the moment he saw Solana react with so much fear just at the mention of this Cody person, that he was going to kill him. Further cemented with how jumpy she was.

 But, Cody Rhodes being the Cody in question massively fucking complicates things given the decades long truce between the Nightmare Factory and the Bloodline. The Factory doesn’t fuck with the Bloodline, and the Bloodline doesn’t fuck with Factory.

But, him killing Cody Rhodes, the fucking leader of the Nightmare Factory, will most definitely fuck with that truce. It’ll void it, thus starting a nasty, brutal war.

He can’t have that. 

The Bloodline can’t have that.

But, Roman also can’t have that bleached bitch beating on Solana. 

Or worse.

“I need to talk to her,” he announces, gaze on the woman who seems to be opening up more and more by the minute. “When is she scheduled to work again?”

Sighing, an answer is supplied that only pisses him off more. “She was supposed to come in today, but she called out sick.” Roman snarls. Sick, his ass. “She should be here tomorrow though. Works the evening shift.”

He nods, making a mental note to clear his schedule. “I’ll be here.”

She eyes him with skepticism. “Look, she’s got enough she’s dealing with. If you’re going to make things worse—”

“I’m not,” he interrupts, voice harsh, glare returning. 

And, she doesn’t back down. Doesn’t deter from a glare that would have most people cowering. One thing for certain, while Solana may be engaged to a monster, the woman before him is a different kind of monster. A useful one to have on her side. “Then what the hell are you going to do?”

Roman notices the tip drawer on the counter and pulls out his wallet, sliding a crisp hundred dollar bill and placing it in the jar. Returning his wallet back to his back pocket, he leans over just enough so he can answer in the calmest, eeriest voice.

“I’m going to rip Cody Rhodes apart limb by limb.”

—-----

His heavy, sweaty body plops down beside her, face up, his gaze on the ceiling. The sound of his loud, uneven breathing further exacerbates her discomfort, disgust filling her at the feel of his seed spilling out of her. 

Solana doesn’t hesitate to turn on her side, wanting nothing more than to get as far away from him as possible, to rush to the shower, to cleanse herself and scrub her body raw from the feel of him on her.

But, she knows how this goes. Knows that she has to wait for him to fall asleep before she can do that, has to ensure that he’s done.

And the minute she hears it, turns and sees that he’s in fact asleep, she peels the blanket off her naked body and makes her way to the bathroom.

Tempted to lock the door, it’s a declined decision knowing it will only wield a negative, painful outcome. 

Turning the knob and stepping under the hot water, Solana allows it to rain down on her body, soothing the lingering aches and pains from the most recent beating. She also doesn’t hesitate to take the shower head, angling it up to her vagina, doing her best to wash away his sperm. An unnecessary thing given the fact that she’s on birth control and always consistent with it, it just helps her feel better.

As best as one can feel in this situation. 

Standing under the comforting water until her body begins to prune up, Solana steps out, wraps a towel around herself and uses her hand to wipe the fogged mirror, providing a slightly cloudy view of herself. A view that immediately brings tears to her eyes. 

The bruises. The cuts. The internal injuries. The pain no one can see and only she can feel.

Tears streaming down her face, it’s impossible for her to not think of her. To not think of how she’s become the very same person she swore she would never be.

Her mother.

“God.” Solana jumps at the sound of his voice, naturally moving her hand to the knot on her towel that keeps her wet body hidden. He stands in the doorway, leaning, dressed in only boxers. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” Once a compliment that made her blush, it now only invokes nausea. “How much I love you?”

Another sickening thing, but not nearly as sickening as what she makes herself say next. “I—I love you, too.”

He makes a sound, walking over, Solana backing up when he tugs her to him, his hand gliding over her damp shoulder blade. “Say it again.”

A painful, tortuous thing. “I—I love you, Cody.” Delight fills his gaze, an infrequent but hopeful thing as she decides to take a risk, to shoot her shot in one of the few opportunities given. “B–baby?”

“Hmm?”

Her body naturally trembles as she powers through her fear and the terror that fills her being. “I was—I—I was wondering if…..if I could go visit my mom and sister.” He doesn’t say anything, but the movement of his finger ceases. “It’s just—I—I haven’t seen them in over a y—year, and she—my mom—I know she’s worried—”

“Solana, Solana, Solana.” And right then and there, she knows this was one of the worst things she could have ever done. “When will you learn?”

Before she can process what’s happening, before she can even fix her mouth to apologize, sheer pain courses through her body as he grabs her by her ear and slams the side of her face down on the bathroom counter. 

Her body crumbles to the floor as she feels the blood suddenly spilling from the side of her head. Cody crouches down in front of her, face turned almost animalistic, “do you think I’m fucking stupid!”

Crying, she shakes her head and attempts to keep the towel together. “No, no, of course—”

Solana cries out when he grabs her by her hair, pulling her to her feet, yanking her head back, one hand wrapped around her throat, restricting her breathing. “Do you think you can fucking try to leave me?”

She’s gasping, small fingers prying at his hand. An answer is practically impossible with the strength of his grip. 

“I own you! You understand me! You belong to me!” He shouts, once again slamming her face down on the counter. Solana is almost seeing stars, red liquid seeping down the middle of her face. “I fucking told you already. If you ever try to leave me, I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them fucking both!”

Another painful reminder that matches the pain multiplying through her body at his brutal, vicious assault. An evil smile crosses his face as he stares at her through the mirror. “Or, maybe I’ll just kill that bitch mother of yours, huh? Kill her and sell that pretty sister of yours to the highest bidder.”

Solana’s eyes widen, her fear extrapolating as she cries harder. “Please—please don’t—”

“Shut up,” he roars. A stinging punch to her side that would have her doubled over if not for his returned grip to her hair. “If I have to ever remind you of this shit again, I’ll slice you up and feed your body to the fucking dogs!”

A promise followed by him tossing her to the floor and a final kick to her side. “Sleep in here, you ungrateful bitch. I don’t want to see your fucking face tonight.”

Solana jumps when he slaps the light off and slams the door shut. 

The silence and loneliness is welcomed, a rare safe space in her world that has in a matter of a year become anything but.

It was stupid, silly of her to even try to think that she could get away with such a thing. Even if she truly had no intentions of trying to escape. Never would. Not if it means the unspeakable horrors being done to her are extended to the two people she loves the most.

Or worse.

She just truly wanted to see her family. 

Wants to see her family. Her home. The place that carries so many good memories, memories that fade with each day spent in hell.

The tears continue to cascade over, the hollowness in her chest and soul expanding by the minute.

Legs pulled to her chest, a long forgotten tune from such a different almost as painful time in her life returns to the forefront of her mind. Conjoined with the contact name still sitting unused in her phone. 

Journey

Lyrics from a song shared with her from the most unlikely person spilling from her mind and out of her mouth.

“Just a small town girl….” Soft singing accompanies a heavy weight that nearly collapses her chest. “Livin' in a lonely world….” It’s the most she can get out before her sobs overwhelm her. 

Left alone in darkness, it’s hard for her to tell where the rooms’ begins and hers ends. 

[devnmon]

wavemother save me...

Summary: You’ve decided your outfit for the day in camp was to be something you’ve never worn before: a robe of the wavemother… which leaves nothing to the imagination. Gale thinks you look beautiful… but he can’t help the affect it has on him. Once you approach the wizard’s tent at night, he knows it’s over for him.

warnings: boobplay, cumming inside, p in v, reader has a larger chest! and gale can’t help being boob-itized.

wc: 3.7k

gale dekarios x afab!reader

a/n: ngl this fic popped into my head when i found out how much of a freak gale is… but i couldn’t help it. this is also self indulgent bc i have a similar chest size as i wrote. pls dont take this as me being discriminatory to smaller chests. but we need some rep for the larger chested people out there. anyways, i’ve said enough. enjoy xx

Gale's cheeks burn in your presence.

They run hot because you're walking around camp in a brand new outfit, and he can't control his eyes. Blue, shimmering, and low cut on your chest. Higher on your waist. Gale was perplexed— not only at how you filled the garment out, but the way you walked around as if you weren't wearing something so different than what you usually adorned.

Gale wanted to pluck out the eyes of every man getting the privilege to lay them on your figure. He for one, thought it too violent an act, and decided to brood about it in isolation. You turned heads every time when entering a room, of course the others were going to notice one way or another.

Far be it from him to tell you what to wear, he just wished he were the only one seeing you. Some could call him selfish for a thought so conflicting. But after so long in isolation, he believed he deserved some of that feeling once in a while.

Far from prying eyes in the privacy of his tower was the situation he pined for. Not on the road with others who could gaze upon you however they liked. Gale didn't even want to think up the thoughts that've probably passed over his companion's minds.

But if he lingered too long on that subject, he'd never get anything done. Though the one thing he knew in his heart was that you pined for him, and only him. Brushed past the cunning Astarion and the stunning Shadowheart to choose him, love him.

It was the only thing keeping his mind distracted from the way everyone's eyes ogled at you throughout the day.

It wasn't your fault you were blessed with a figure that made everyone stare; the curves of your hips, of your chest, your strong legs and hands—

Wavemother save me…

Gale's thoughts and the way your curves looked did anything but help the situation. It's done fuck all to help his wandering eyes.

Though every time he stared, you had glanced over to him as if you could sense those eyes of his on you.

He'd even had to cast a calming spell on himself in private to keep the way his body craved yours under wraps. He just hoped no one was prying through his thoughts.

Gale wished you weren't burdened with such a… heavy… chest. Many nights you'd arrive at his tent just aching to have him rub your back because of how much you've carried during the day, both physically and metaphorically.

Glimmering in the sunlight, your dress stuck to your figure in all the right places; ones he's explored with the palm of his hands. His eyes find you again when you circle around to the side of camp where his tent resides. He also spots the red eyes of Astarion following you as you walk about.

It wasn't a secret you had the figure of a goddess and flaunted it when you wanted to. Gale just wished the other men in camp kept their eyes to themselves and didn't gaze so obviously at you.

Light blue looked ravishing on you, and this garment in particular cut deep down to the bottom of your stomach, leaving nothing to imagination. It had in fact also put your fine legs on display, cutting high up your waist. Scales of metallic fabric reflecting off the hot sun, you shone more than fireworks in the night sky.

Each time you walked by, you sent him a sweet smile and spotted the blush on his cheeks that seemed to intensify with every pass. Watching you approach felt aeons long, every speck of gravity doing its job as you walked. It was nothing of a secret how you felt about your figure; rather than hide it away and feel ashamed for your curves, they were put on display in confidence.

With every pass by the purple tent, you could feel his brown eyes tied to your figure from the moment you approached to when you walked away. And you knew Gale relished in watching you walk away. A man of many simple pleasures in life, drinking you in like a good glass of wine.

Distracted again by the valley of your breasts, envisioning them in his hands from nights betwixt the sheets before. Reverberations of his name in the air, tossed up with other profanities and paths to heaven sent pleasure. There was no changing how magnetically pulled his eyes were to you, even if he wished he could stop staring and focus on something else for once.

Most of his energy was used up concentrating on that damned calm emotions spell to keep himself from imploding on the spot.

Soon enough the sun's light lowered past the mountains, covering the camp in warm torch lighting. Gale was on his last limb attempting to keep himself together throughout dinner. The moment it was time to turn in, he was the first to disappear from the campfire. As quickly as he retreated to his tent, exhaustion from constant concentration hit and the spell dropped.

Relief washed over his mind for a quick moment. That is until his thoughts returned and realized the incantations had only prolonged the inevitable. His pants tightened around his groin, making his clothing wildly uncomfortable.

Not a step outside camp, and he was drained beyond belief. A thought to sleep passed over him, but the shuffling of your feet outside his tent said otherwise.

Gale attempted to steady his breaths and close his eyes to feign sleep, but you knew him better than that. He always said goodnight to you before resting your eyes, which came off as highly surprising upon your entry into the tent.

"Gale, you're still in your robes. Don't tell me you've fallen asleep now…"

He peeks one eye open to see you standing above him, "Hm? Oh, no. Just resting my eyes. Long day."

"We didn't even leave camp…" you chuckled, placing your hands on your hips.

The angle he was viewing you from still didn't help the ever growing arousal in his groin. Distractedly pulsing under the cloth of his robe, his clouded mind would continue to do anything but put him to sleep.

"Oh, I mean just… attempting to learn some new spells. Concentration's tough if I'm not well practiced, so…" he chuckles, sitting up to watch you move about. He was lucky his robe was thick enough to hide any evidence of the predicament hardening in his trousers.

"You? Gale Dekarios, master of the Weave, is not practiced in some areas of magic? Woe is me…" you exclaimed, placing your hand dramatically over your chest.

"The Weave has endless areas of magical expertise, I couldn't possibly study them all in my lifetime… but I'd like to try." he admitted, sitting up on the bedroll.

Though with the knowing look on your face, he trailed off and hoped he was telling enough of a fib to convince you. But you both knew deception was not his strong suit.

"Are you sure about that? Because I could've sworn those weren't the incantations you were reciting…" Your eyebrows raised, smiling at his terrible effort to remain undetected.

He then remembers the night he spent teaching you basic incantations, ones you could cast perfectly nowadays after so long.

"Now Gale, you may be a man of the Weave, but that cannot ever stop your wandering eyes. You're terrible at being subtle." You chuckled, sitting down next to him.

"I…" he sighed, "Perhaps you're right."

"You know I am. This garment is pretty and all, but it has been bothering me all day." you sighed, pouting as you moved closer to Gale.

"Well… maybe you should remove it then." He suggested, letting his eyes drag down the canvas of your body shamelessly. The lower tone of his voice made you smirk, glancing downward to spot what he'd tried to keep contained all day long.

"Just… curious but, what made you choose this outfit for the day? It doesn't look like something you'd wear during battle…" you cocked your head at him.

"I-I mean… I for one am not complaining. It just does not seem comfortable."

His sheepish words burn pink on his cheeks, hoping he's not offended you by making an obvious statement.

"Oh, I didn't wear it to be comfortable, sweet wizard. I wore it to steal the breath from your chest."

Gale swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth from the sight of you, choking on your words. It's true-m— he's speechless, and there's nothing to be done about how his eyes move accordingly down your body from it.

"Now, help me take this off?"

Gale's eyes lit up, huffing an excited breath before speaking in a low voice. "With pleasure."

You turned your back towards him, letting his hands linger on your waist and dragged upwards, unhooking the chains that held the garment together. Soon as it was a pile of fabric on the floor, Gale's eyes had locked onto you and weren't going anywhere else.

"Lie down and just… relax. This is all for you, Gale. I'm all for you."

Speaking words so soft and gentle to him was still something that felt unearned, as if he didn't deserve to be loved in the way he wished. Almost immediately upon a confession, you'd immediately pledged your heart to him and stayed true to your word about it. There was no end to the things you would do for the man just because you loved him.

His need to be reminded of that was no simple thing to ask for, but even without talking you managed to uncover how he was truly feeling without much more than a glance.

It was no burden; to tell your lover why you'd fallen for him had pride filling your chest.

You would have done anything to make Gale see himself the way you saw him. Dashingly handsome, kind, worthy, good with his tongue and hands.

"I have to say," you began, "your spell work concentration is impressive. But you must be so exhausted…"

"I.. yes, quite." Gale ran a hand through his hickory strands while painting the image of you into his mind.

You could hear his heart pounded in his chest as if he is seeing you for the first time again, succumbing to the moment of bliss as if he never had before.

Brown eyes of your lover darted to paint his eyes over the exposed skin once bare to his view. The valley of your chest was enticing enough, nonetheless when your breasts fluttered freely from the scaled material. Perfectly plush and naturally shaped, they sat with an astuteness.

"You are… a goddess." his whispers fluttered out in the warm light, gazing at you with the tightness in his pants growing by the minute. Your body hovering above him both knocked the air out of his lungs and made time stop.

"And you are the love of my life. No one will ever take me from you."

His head rests on the pillow behind him, trailing your hands down his clothed figure.

"Bit unfair isn't it? You, naked while I'm fully clothed?"

"We'd better fix that then."

You bent down over him, embracing his lips to enchant yourself with his practiced tongue. Running down his chest were your hands, fingertips making a mess of him only by sheer proximity to the tent in his trousers. As Gale lie on his back, those brown eyes filled with the vision of you tossing his clothes to the ground.

He radiated a new kind of pride upon sharing these intimate moments with you, ones he has not shared with anyone else mortal in years. It's a new kind of freedom, to have you and know you trust him with your entire being. To give him part of yourself every day and entrusting you with the same.

Not only were you in front of him in all your glory, but you were still you, gorgeous and his. All his.

His cock throbbed from being confined in his garments all day, pleading and sensitive with the way his crotch jolted upwards when you finally freed his cock.

Alluring eyes met his with a siren’s call, beckoning him to submit and feel all you’re offering him.

"Touch me, like you've wanted to all day. Touch me in the way no one else can. I am yours."

An appreciative hum comes from him as he takes in the image of you.

"I don’t deserve you…” Gale muttered lowly, head swimming with how you shone in the light.

"Gale, please… by the gods, you do…”

Without hesitation, he pressed your lips against his, lavishing in the way your tongue asked for entry this time. Practiced hands move up your back, caressing your skin there before trailing one of his hands down the valley of your chest. Goosebumps lifted across your skin in response, nipples hardening against his chest.

Gale's large hand took point in cupping your breast within his palm, while his thumb ran over the sensitive areola to earn a gasp from you. You were warm and soft in his grasp while your lips moved down his neck.

Each kiss had your tongue flitting against his skin, watching as Gale's head flew back from the sensation. Nothing could've made this moment more perfect; he had everything he ever needed right here. You'd given him more than he thought he deserved, incomparable to anyone else he'd been with in his mortal life. Something about the way you gave, no matter the circumstance. You gave to him your heart, your acts of love and gratitude, with everything inside you. Shamelessly, each time without fail.

To be a receiver is to be worthy, and once you opened his eyes on that which he deserved, it became easier to accept your loving acts.

Down his chest your lips went, dragging your hands along with them for the ride.

"I need you to know,"

Kiss

"that you're enough for me as you are."

Kiss

"I want to show you how much I mean it."

Your last kiss placed right above his navel, where a tuft of hair lay just below, along with his cock standing upright and eager. His brown eyes never left you whilst traversing down his body as if you knew it by heart.

Your nipples ghosted over his skin at times, bringing bouts of sighs to each of you. When you finally gripped him at the base, it was just enough of your touch to make him groan. Gale's low hum reverberated down his chest, where your other hand lay against his torso.

A slow pump of your hand had him resisting with all his might to not thrust his hips up for more friction. You muttered a conjuration spell - one Gale had taught you - and slowly moved your hand up and down, lubricant coating his length.

"If I'd have known this was what you were going to use those spells for…" he chuckles, hiding his blush behind a hand.

"You're lucky I'm a fast learner. Maybe then you would've gotten away with those terrible lies. Though you are a very good teacher."

The compliment had his cock twitching in your hand; perhaps it was that he'd been pent up for too long, or maybe you just knew how to fluster him. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his tip before releasing your hand and began to cup your chest within your own hands.

"What are you…"

You leaned down over him, pressing his cock between the plush of your breasts. His gasp of surprise and pleasurable sensation combined in disbelief that you'd offer him your body in such a way.

"I yearn for this, Gale. For you. To give you my body in such a way. Because I love you."

His arousal was more than heightened when you began moving up and down, head thrown back in ecstasy.

"I love you… more than myself— ahh… For what I would do for you is much more than I could describe in a single breath."

You chuckled, "I know. But tonight is about you. Lay there and look pretty, can you do that for me?"

He nodded, huffing another breath before smiling sheepishly. The pink in his cheeks began to brighten as you continued your movements.

Gale had never been called pretty before, but the instinctive tone of voice it was said in made him hesitant to retort. He had a habit of denying any such compliments only when they didn't pertain to his skillful ways of the Weave. Day by day though, you'd managed to see him blush over said remarks rather than shying away from them.

Perhaps it was easy for you to change him, seeing as he'd devoted his entire heart to you, basking in the warm light you emanated. From being thrust back into the world outside his tower to now, he's felt that same light melting all the walls built up over months of isolation. Gale hadn't been sure whether to embrace that light or shun himself from it until you showed him what a glorious life it could be with you by his side.

His hands gripped at the bedroll cloth, attempting to smother how badly the pleasure you gave was affecting him. Sweat rolled down his temple as his eyes took another glance at you. In your movements you were dedicated, each slow movement another prayer of love.

Gale cursed under his breath, drowning in every slow graze of your skin against the bulging vein of his cock. His chest heaved with every deep breath, concentrating on watching you— though he knew the sight of you like this could make him come fairly easy.

Your nipples grazed the tuft of hair at his base and each time it did so, it was more electrifying than any spell he'd cast. Even as each sensation tormented his brain, etching them behind his eyelids for later, Gale found himself closer to his climax than he would've liked.

"S-stop… gods, I'm close. Don't want to spend myself on your pretty skin. Let me do it somewhere else…"

You looked up, eyes glazed over in want, and you stop instantly before crawling over him. The lightest touches of your torso against his have his breaths turn shaky, knowing how much physical touch sends him over the edge.

"Anything for you, my love."

Your lips pressed against him as you grabbed him by the base and sat down fully on his length. With each inch that pressed into you, Gale felt more pleasure than he thought ever known. You were soaked just by pleasuring him, what a concept to be studied.

Once you were full to the brim, his hands came up to your breasts, twisting your nipple between two of his fingers. His mouth then pressed to the valley in between them, soft kisses that made goosebumps paint your skin.

"Oh, Gale…"

He hummed upon hearing his name, reverberating under your skin and heightening how much you loved his lips even further. Your fingers raked through his hair, nails scratching lightly, but enough to make him sigh again.

Hands traveled from one of your breasts to the other, twisting and pulling and massaging just enough to send you clenching around him. Thus he ended up gripping your waist, watching as your head threw back in pleasure from just his contact.

"This is what you want, isn't it? Torture me with that lavish body of yours just to take me like this when night falls? You truly vex me, my heart, my mind…"

On mind he thrusted deeper into you, beginning to lift your hips above him. You managed to muffle a moan in time, but Gale would be lying to himself if he said he didn't feel his cock throb at the sound.

"Won't last much longer like this…" he managed to get out, taking one of his strong fingers and ran it down your folds before finding your clit.

You clenched around him again, electricity of his touch paralyzing you again. Had the gods truly made him specifically to love you, to know every part as if one with himself? You wondered it all the time, but especially when just a slight touch sent you reeling off into the deep end. Gale was an abyss you chose to swim in, and if you drowned, there was no going back.

His hips pressed up into you whilst lifting yourself above him, bodies combined intimately, soaked in each other's passion. Each of Gale's movements both inside and outside your body jolted you closer to release. His cock kissing the special spot inside you and his thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves was enough for you to pull him close as your orgasm neared.

Whispering each other's names truly was the cherry on top, the desperation in Gale's eyes and voice as he quietly moaned sent his hips stuttering inside you.

Both his pleasure and yours heightened to the point of release, enclosing your lips with a kiss and coming undone in each other's arms. The warmth of him transferred to you inside your gushing walls. Gale's movements over your clit helped you ride out your high, wrapping your arms around his neck in exhaustion.

You both stilled for a moment, the air settling as your bodies did, pressed together while your heartbeats steadied.

You felt him soften inside you, pulling off of him before lying down next to his figure. One of your hands traced circles across his chest, passing over the weave mark adorned between his pecs. 

“I love you, Gale.” 

His eyes lifted to yours, “I love you too, so much more than you know.” 

Your lips pressed kisses across his cheeks and then his lips, noting his eyelids becoming heavy with each passing moment. 

“My, you really /did/ outdo yourself today. How many times did you cast that spell?” 

“I lost count after three…” he chuckled, “but I’m just glad it all brought us to this moment.” 

“I am as well. Now, shall we finally have a rest, hm?” 

“I couldn’t agree more.” 

The rest of your night was spent wrapped in Gale’s arms, falling asleep with his warmth surrounding you. A place you would never get tired of being.