#i know nothing except that /he/ thought it was bad enough that it was worth doing this

[sky-scribbles]

Party Banter with Rook!Blackwall

Harding: You know, for a moment back there, I thought you might actually get through to Solas.

Thom: Regret’s something we have in common. I thought… if I reached out to him, told him I understood what guilt drives you to do…

Harding: But no. ‘Do not compare your regrets with mine, Thom Rainier!’

Thom: He’s right, though. He can at least say he did his crimes trying to stop tyrants. I did mine for coin.

Harding: Uh, yeah, and then you faced up to it and decided no one else was going to get hurt for it except you. Solas is right. He’s nothing like you.

—

Lucanis: Do we have a problem, Warden Rainier?

Thom: You kill people. For gold.

Lucanis: I do. Venatori. Blood mages. The political rivals of those who hired me.

Thom: And that’s enough for you? Someone flashes a purse, and you’re ready to murder over some nobles’ spat over which of them gets the bigger fancy house?

Lucanis: Depends on the size of the purse.

—

Bellara: Um, so, about the mayor of D'Meta's Crossing? I just… do you really want someone like that? In the Wardens, I mean.

Thom: I won’t defend him. But he wouldn’t be the first Warden who let innocent people die for gold, and got another chance from the Order.

Bellara: He doesn’t deserve it. Like, really, really doesn’t deserve it.

Thom: No. Neither did I.

—

Thom: Do you ever get people trying to bribe you? To look the other way, or drop a case, or...

Neve: It's Minrathous. If I took even half the bribes I've been offered, I could buy an estate in Hightown.

Thom: It takes a special kind of strength to resist that.

—

Thom: I got a letter from Sera the other day. Don’t ask me how she got it to the Lighthouse.

Harding: ‘Friends’, I bet. And hey - she dealt with the Fade for you! So what'd she say?

Thom: Well, there was a lot of calling Solas a shite-faced arseknuckle. And then she told me not to get killed, or she’d yank my beard ‘til my head came off.

Harding: Aw.

—

Lucanis: Rainier, I do not knife civilians. Everyone I have killed has been embedded in politics. Their hands are never clean.

Thom: And you're sure you’ve never made a mistake? Never got a passer-by or a child caught in all the blades and arrows? Never gone in without knowing everything, and got someone hurt?

Lucanis: Of course not. I’m a professional.

Thom: You’re a mercenary with a cape.

—

Thom: You could’ve left Dock Town. A mage. Talented. You could’ve gone anywhere, chased a better life.

Neve: If I left, I’d be abandoning people who never got that choice. I’m good where I’m at.

Thom: I hope you know how admirable that makes you.

Neve: Not that admirable. If I got that estate in Hightown? Too far to walk to Hal’s fish stand.

Thom: (laughs) Good priorities.

—

Davrin: So, Rainier. Heard a lot of rumours about how you joined the Wardens.

Thom: (uneasy noise) You know, Warden Blackwall told me your past gets forgotten after the Joining.

Davrin: A nice ideal, but it never stands up to the gossip. But you’ve shown your worth.

Thom: Enough for me to have one of those griffons when we rescue them, d’you reckon?

Davrin: (laughs) We’ll see.

—

Thom: I knew someone like Manfred once. He was a spirit, but he sort of… grew his own body.

Emmrich: Oh! A spontaneous incarnation! Do you happen to know what kind of spirit he was?

Thom: Uh… the kind that looks like a young man, but reads minds and flits about trying to make everyone feel better about themselves?

Emmrich: Ah, Compassion! A rather more advanced emotion than Curiosity, and therefore capable of manifesting a physical body, rather than needing to adopt a vacant one.

Thom: More advanced? Right. That explains why Cole used to talk to me about living with the weight of regret, and Manfred spent ten minutes yesterday poking my face to see if my beard came off.

—

Neve: So, you know Dorian?

Thom: Does anyone who’s been in the same room as him for thirty seconds get a choice about knowing Dorian?

Neve: And didn’t always get along, I take it.

Thom: He’s… he’s not so bad. We might’ve judged each other by first impressions back when we met.

Neve: And what’s your impression now?

Blackwall: Still too fancy for his own good. But it says exactly who he is that he’s fighting against slavers and blood mages. I think I got the better deal with the darkspawn.

—

Taash: I heard the Inquisitor turned into a dragon.

Thom: No, she… didn’t. But she did get one to fight with us once.

Taash: She did? What kind? How’d she do it?

Thom: Sort of… gold? And she drank from this pool of elven magic, and… that somehow let her ask it to help us. I think.

Taash: Did she ride it into battle?

Thom: Uh… No.

Taash: Oh. I would’ve ridden it into battle.

—

Thom: Emmrich, do you know what those demons were the other day? The ones that wouldn’t leave me alone?

Emmrich: Ah. Those were manifestations of Shame. A variant of the Despair spirit.

Thom: Right. Don’t know what I expected.

Emmrich: If it’s any consolation, I find that one can tell much more about a person from the more benign spirits that gather around them. I catch glimpses of them about you often. Valour. Fortitude. Honour.

Thom: I hope to be worthy of them.

—

Thom: Lucanis, have you ever regretted any of your kills?

Lucanis: Not so far.

Thom: So this is what you’re fine with being? A man who takes nobles’ money and lives in luxury with your bloodied hands? That's the life you chose?

Lucanis: Not ‘chose’, exactly. It is what I was trained to be since my childhood.

Thom: Wait. You were – who trains a child to be an assassin?

Lucanis: You met my grandmother.

—

Davrin: You held up pretty well in the last fight, Rainier. For an old man.

Thom: Whelp like you’d better watch what he says around a senior Warden.

Davrin: Why? You’ll tell me to do the fifty press-ups that your creaky bones can’t handle?

Thom (laughs) I’ll stop letting you borrow my best chisel.

—

Bellara: Hey, um, Thom? You know that little rocking griffon you made? Could you make, I don’t know, a bigger one? Like… adult… person-sized?

Thom: (chuckles) You never have a rocking griffon growing up?

Bellara: No! They’re not a Dalish thing! Because you can’t really rock. When the aravel’s moving, I mean. So… no, it’s a dumb idea. Forget I said anything.

Thom: You want me to make it a rocking halla?

Bellara: Yes please thank you.

—

Emmrich: How far you must have travelled, with both the Inquisition and the Wardens!

Thom: I like being on the road. Keeps a man honest.

Emmrich: I rather envy your fearlessness of the wider world. It’s so recent that the end of the Circles allowed me to travel freely outside the Necropolis.

Thom: Must have been freeing. Having the whole world suddenly open to you.

Emmrich: And rather overwhelming, I must admit. When I compare myself to you – a brave Warden, combatting the Blight across all of Thedas…

Thom: Trust me: compare the two of us, and that’s the only way I’ll come out better from it.

—

Thom: We fought quite a few dragons in the Inquisition. Almost got eaten once by some pissed-off beast in the Hinterlands. Kept throwing its dragonlings at us.

Taash: Fereldan Frostbacks are crappy mothers. First sign of trouble, and it’s ‘here! Take my children!’

Thom: (laughs) The worst was the lightning-spitter off the Storm Coast. Spent twenty minutes hacking away at its scales, rest of my team unconscious on the ground.

Taash: Wait - you what? That's not how you fight dragons. You can't just stand there and hit them. That's stupid. And boring.

—

Lucanis: It’s how the Crow Houses work. Children of the House lineage are trained from our infancy.

Thom: Andraste’s fucking tits.

Lucanis: It’s necessary. If Illario and I had been coddled… Caterina pushed us hard and young, because she wanted us to survive.

Thom: I don’t… (sighs) The things people do to children.

—

Harding: I never thought to ask - how come Varric changed your nickname?

Thom: I asked him to go with something else. 'Hero'... that was a name he gave to Blackwall.

Harding: Well, he chose the right name. You know, 'cause Rooks move in straight lines. And you charge right in there, don't mess around with fancy words, just hit things til they drop. You could say you're -

Thom: Don't do it, Lace.

Harding: Straightforward.

Thom: (chuckles) You're as bad as Sera.

—

Emmrich: Master Rainier, I wanted to say – I hope you know that you’re the only person here who looks at you with any harshness.

Thom: I – (sighs) You don’t know everything about me.

Emmrich: I would never claim to. But I know that you place yourself before your allies and the defenceless without hesitation and with utter selflessness. I know you understand your Warden oath better than many of your superiors. I know that you are a good man.

Thom: … I wish I knew what it was like to be you. Seeing the good in everyone, living or dead.

Emmrich: Then I hope you’ll permit me continue to see the good in you – until you can see yourself as I do.

[gibbearish]

ive always had issues with the term "terminally online" mostly because of how it swiftly devolved to just mean "anyone online i disagree with", however recently it did finally click for me when someone messaged me about my aaron bushnell posts and ended it with "yeah idk i just think it would've done more good for him to stay alive and donate to esims for gaza" bc i just. like. where do you even start with that. like that to me is an opinion that cannot come from anywhere other than having your entire frame of reference for activism and the united states military be gathered online. you really think someone who thought they had to /kill themselves/ to avoid /active contributions to genocide/ would've done more good just. keeping their head down and doing what they were told and throwing a spare couple dollars at the esims fund? do you think you know more about the harm he was helping do than he did, that you can speculate on how best to outweigh it? do you think if "donate to esims" was actually a more productive option he wouldnt have picked that before SELF IMMOLATION???? and like ive since blocked that person because of some other issues but. it took quite literally everything in me not to say anything about it in the moment

[meo-eiru]

heyy!! here I am with some more thoughts, this time about Elias.

honestly, for some reason, he seems like a very lonely person to me. you mentioned his will to change himself (and go to extreme lengths in that); also his almost paranoid fear of darling leaving him, (delete all of your contacts except for him, etc) – usually such level of jealousy is a sign of very low self-esteem. dunno if it's true, I just had a feeling that he's super insecure deep down. (he's afraid to look bad in our eyes, remember? to an unhealthy extent.)

and he's so empty. so beautiful on the outside, but so so empty. he loves you, he exists for you, isn't that enough? it isn't. you can't feel genuine affection for someone just because they look good. and Elias knows that! he's actually self conscious (unlike some elf with big tatas), but he can't offer you anything else, which must make him feel even more insecure, because deep down he knows that he won't be able to keep you by his side forever.

actually that will of his to go to extreme lengths for us is pretty frightening. how toxic it can be? depends on the darling! because if you are a normal person, you'd be patient with him, change him, and have a happy ever after and all those boring things. but what if Elias happens to fall in love with an unreasonable and possessive monster?

I feel like he'd go very well with a darling who's yandere for him too. and a stereotypical one at that, who'd want to keep him by their side like a pretty doll. get it? not a life partner, not even a human. a doll, a pretty thing to take care of. they would choose pretty clothes for him, brush his hair, but at the end of the day, he's nothing more but a pretty thing, an object.

I really like the doll metaphor for Elias. (I'm a huge doll lover, I ever have one of that super expensive bjd) dolls are beautiful, but aren't alive. they can't be someone you'd open your heart to; under their shiny porcelain skin, they're hollow.

unlike Silas, Elias is a more tragic character in my eyes. he's willing to carve his bones to whatever shape you desire, because if he isn't validated and noticed by you, he has no value. and you (if you are a normal person) will grow tired and bored of him, sooner or later. he wants to be loved, when there's pretty much nothing to love in him.

unlike Silas, his love can ruin only himself.

(I swear it's not like I want to see him suffer in particular. I'm open to all kinds of despair, pain and sadness, whether it yan's or darling's!)

(also I tried to find his colour scheme, but all I found was you mention his hair, so it's just how I think he looks like.)

DHDKDHDKYS NOT ONLY IS YOUR ANALYZES AMAZING YOU ALSO DREW ELIAS??? AND HOW DID YOU GET HIS COLOR SCHEME SO RIGHT???

I love you thank you god I love asks like yours.

You’re very on point, Elias is like a pretty doll. Beautiful on the outside but completely empty inside, and that beauty is the only thing that gives him any kind of worth. He’s aware of this more than anyone.

He’s not rich, he doesn’t have an amazingly successful career, no hobbies, no specialities, no interests. He’s extremely pathetic and all he can do is pitifully attempt to pull you down to his level.

That’s why committing self harm comes so easily to him even if he doesn’t yearn for it. Endangering himself, his only value, his body, is the only way he can keep you with him. He doesn’t have any power over you he can use against you. He only has this disgustingly and pathetically beautiful body.

He wants to be loved by you, he wants you to be obsessed with him as much as he is with you, but deep down he knows he doesn’t have any qualities that could deserve such love. That is why he leans into his appearance so hard, since the moment he was born that face of his was the only thing that gave him any sort of value.

If you find any part of him ugly he’ll have no choice but to try to fix it even if it completely ruins him. Because he thinks that’s the only way for him to keep your eyes on him. He’s just through and through pathetic. Extremely pitiful.

He would indeed roll well with a yandere reader who treats him like a living doll. Because Elias wants to be values by you, even if it means getting stripped of the little sense of identity he had. He wants you to keep your eyes on him and see him as an object who exists for your satisfaction. Because at the end of the day that is what he is. An empty shell who was unfortunate enough to be born with the ability to love.

Elias’ existence can’t handle his own love. He’ll start breaking from inside out like a doll under pressure. That’s why he needs your reassurance, he needs you to reaffirm his worth. He can’t exist for himself so he needs to exist for you. He might be a beautiful shell of a human but he too can have some sort of value if he’s being used like a tool by you.

But watching you also makes him feel extremely jealous and frustrated. Because you have everything he doesn’t have. You have hobbies, things you enjoy, things you do for yourself, people who stay with you not for your outer shell but for who you are inside. Everything Elias never had and never will.

That’s why he tries so hard to ruin your relationships and threaten you to stay with him, to keep you at his level like a pathetic bug. Because you’re not like him. You can abandon him any day of the week and continue your life like you lost nothing, but Elias isn’t like that. If he loses you he truly will have nothing left.

So please love him, ruin him, break him, treat him right, use him, make him feel alive, give him some sort of value. Please be kind to Elias. He needs you more than anyone on this world

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 3: favorite scent

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

When you entered the conference room, the first thing you noticed was the strong scent filling the place. It was men's cologne, and as soon as it hit your nose, it completely overwhelmed you. But it wasn't an unpleasant dizziness; on the contrary, the woody artificial scent drove you wild. You loved autumn simply because of that.

“Sorry for the delay,” you apologized to the team, dropping into the last available seat. Next to Spencer.

You quickly grabbed the file that was on the table in your spot and took a glance at your colleague, who gave you a shy smile. You were a bit lost with the specific part your colleagues were reviewing, and he, noticing your confusion, leaned in to help you. That’s when the scent you had noticed earlier intensified, and when you turned to him, you realized it was coming from his body.

You registered your colleague’s light-colored shirt with a neatly tied black tie around his neck. His golden hair slightly brushed his cheek as he helped you, and suddenly you felt nervous, without really understanding why.

Reid found the file you were working on and then placed the folder in your hands. You whispered a small thank you, and he gave you a nonchalant expression, trying to tell you it was no trouble at all.

You had a rule you always tried to stick to, and that was not dating colleagues at work. Simply because it always complicated things. Morgan flirted with you all the time, but that was something he did indiscriminately, so you never took it too personally. As for the rest of the team members, they knew how to keep things professional, plus they were old enough to be your dad. However, that day you wondered if it would be worth ignoring that rule for someone like Spencer.

He was a broken guy, no doubt, and somewhat different from the others. But he was also sweet, polite, so intelligent, and humble that sometimes you found it hard to believe that so many good qualities could fit into one person. And the guy wasn’t bad-looking, to be honest. Although he wasn’t really your type, since you’d always dated more muscular men with a different lifestyle, exceptions could always exist.

And honestly, maybe his scent had something to do with your sudden fascination with him, because every now and then you sneaked glances at him as if you wanted to admire him with other intentions, not just as your colleague.

“Are you okay?” he asked once JJ finished presenting the case. That swollen belly from pregnancy was already starting to show, and you wondered when she would take her maternity leave.

“Yes, why do you ask?” you exclaimed absentmindedly.

“Oh, it’s just that you were late. You’re never late. And besides, you were looking at me a lot during the meeting, so I thought maybe you were worried about something and wanted to tell you that if you need to talk, you can tell me.”

Oh, sweet, sweet boy.

“I’m perfectly fine, Reid,” you laughed. Everyone had already left the conference room. “It’s just that I was so tired last night that I forgot to set my alarm, and then I overslept. But it’s nothing to worry about. I’m sure it won’t happen again.”

“Maybe you should buy an alarm clock. Did you know the first alarm clock was invented by watchmaker Levi Hutchins in 1787? But it was for personal use only because he made it to wake himself up at 4 a.m. to go to work.”

“I didn’t know that. I’ll probably take your advice and get one,” you smiled at him, already used to hearing him have facts about practically every subject.

“Well, you know that if something’s bothering you… you can tell me whenever you want, okay?”

The sweetness and kindness of this man touched you, and you stretched out to hug him, hoping it didn’t cross the line of trust, as it was well-known that the doctor wasn’t too fond of physical contact. However, he gladly received you in his arms, making sure to hold you as close as possible.

“I know. You’re a good friend, Reid,” you thanked him softly. Once you broke the hug, you didn’t completely pull away, taking a moment to lean toward his clothes and inhale deeply. “Is your cologne new?”

“Uh, yeah. A gift from Morgan. But I think it’s too strong. I don’t know if I should keep using it…”

“I completely love the smell of wood,” you blurted out. “And it suits you very well. It matches you.”

Upon receiving that compliment, the boy blushed just a little, and still with his hands on your waist, he tried to suppress a smile.

“Well, in that case… if you like it, I’ll keep wearing it.”

“No! I didn’t mean that, it was just an observation. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”

“My concern was bothering people with the scent. But now I see that’s not the case.”

A giggle escaped your lips, and then you pulled away, thinking that if you stayed in that position any longer, it could be considered inappropriate contact.

“I’ve always believed that a handsome man should wear good cologne. We women love that.”

The words left your mouth before your mind could reflect on them, and although you were embarrassed, you weren’t going to take them back. Spencer didn’t know which was worse: the fact that you had just implied he was handsome or that you were suggesting you were charmed by it.

“I’ll keep that in mind from now on,” he murmured playfully, almost bordering on a flirtatious tone.

The two of you walked out the door, chatting about a few other things so you could fully focus on analyzing the case once you got on the jet. During that time, he was thinking about two things he definitely didn’t want to forget: thanking Morgan and making sure to put on cologne every morning without fail.

[valkyrieromanoff]

Bad ideia right?: master!anakin x padawan!reader

synopsis: Sharing a room with your master didn’t seem like a bad idea, right? But when Anakin steps out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel hanging on his hips, things quickly spiral into uncharted territory. As the tension between you thickens and lines between duty and desire blur, you’re left questioning whether this might have been a very bad idea after all.

warning: master x padawan trope (sorry, power imbalance), inexperienced reader, dominant Anakin, handjob, practically only smut, almost no plot.

words: 1.8k

a/n: So... this idea came to my mind randomly with an edit of some character by Hayden Christensen, and, since I'm obsessed with Anakin, obviously, he was the chosen one. Anyway, I hope you like it, and thanks for the comments on James Kelly's oneshot, I'm working on a sequel. Kisses💖

𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏' 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂, 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕?

𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏' 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒊𝒕, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆

Sharing a room with your master hadn't seemed like a bad idea earlier in the night. After all, just hours ago, the two of you were shivering outside the small hotel, waiting for the Council to deliberate on whether it was even possible to send a rescue. The cold had bit through your robes, and with the Council's decision delayed, the promise of warmth had seemed worth the minor inconvenience.

Anakin, somehow, had managed to scrounge up a few credits, not enough for separate quarters but just enough to rent a single room. The thought of sharing didn’t raise any concerns, even though there was only one bed. It wasn’t all that different from the countless nights spent camping during missions, except that Master Kenobi or Rex usually are close by.

But now, sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped only in a loose shirt that barely skimmed your thighs, you were beginning to rethink that assumption. Your Jedi robes were draped neatly over a chair in the corner. You hadn’t packed any extra clothes, not imagining you'd need them, and as you sat there, nerves started to flutter in your chest.

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open pulled you from your thoughts, and your heart stuttered in your chest. Anakin stepped out, a wave of warm, humid air spilling into the room with him. His sandy, wavy hair was damp, droplets of water trailing lazily down his bare chest, across the defined muscles of his abdomen. Your eyes followed one particular droplet as it slid down his abs before disappearing into the white towel wrapped low around his waist.

Suddenly, sharing a room didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your gaze away. Anakin, always so sure of himself, caught your stare and flashed you a confident grin —one that was all too knowing. There was a flicker of something playful in his eyes, a dangerous spark that sent your pulse racing. He shook his head lightly, sending more water droplets flying, and the gesture felt so casual, so effortless, yet it left you completely unraveled.

"You like what you see?" Anakin’s voice was low, teasing, as he raised a brow in amusement. His tone, laced with flirtation, made your skin heat despite the chill that lingered in the air.

Your mind screamed at you to look away, to remember the boundaries between master and padawan, but your body betrayed you, rooted in place by the tension that now filled the small room.

For a split second, you saw hesitation in his eyes —just a flicker, like maybe even he knew he was crossing a line. But then, as if driven by some reckless need to push further, to test the limits, the towel slipped. It fell silently to the floor, landing in a small patch of undried paint that clung to the fabric.

Your breath hitched. The tension in the air thickened, the room suddenly feeling far too small, too intimate. Anakin stood there, unabashed, watching your reaction with that same infuriatingly smug look. Yet beneath that confidence, you could sense something else simmering —an unspoken desire, a question hanging in the air between you.

This definitely wasn’t a good idea anymore.

Your eyes widened, a sharp jolt of surprise and confusion surging through you. Never—not in your wildest dreams—had you imagined being in a situation like this. Anakin, your master, standing before you so naked in his glory. It felt surreal, as if reality had warped around you in that instant.

Instinctively, your gaze dropped lower before you could stop yourself, a glimpse of his half-hard cock. The realization hit you like a lightning bolt, and the heat flooding your face was immediate. A fiery blush crept up your cheeks, burning hot with a mix of shock and embarrassment.

Your hands flew to your face, palms pressing over your eyes as if you could erase the image, your heart hammering in your chest. "Force, what is happening?" you thought, breath catching in your throat. Your mind was a mess, struggling to reconcile the absurdity of the moment with the unwavering discipline you'd spent years mastering.

Behind your hands, you heard Anakin chuckle softly, his amusement only making the situation feel even more unreal. And still, beneath the embarrassment, there was something else stirring —something dangerous, something you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

“It’s okay, padawan. You can look.” he whispered, his voice soft. He wanted you to know that you could trust him, that you didn't need to feel ashamed or shy, he was your master after all.

You didn’t move. This isn’t right. It’s not the Jedi way, you reminded yourself, mentally reciting the Jedi Code you’d been trained to memorize, the one you’d sworn never to break. The words echoed in your mind like a lifeline, an anchor to the discipline you’d spent years being taught. But as the silence stretched between you, another part of you —one far more rebellious, one undeniably influenced by your master— began to stir. It grew louder, more insistent, gnawing at the edges of your resolve.

Anakin was waiting. You didn’t need to see him to know it. He was smiling—delighting in your hesitation, in the battle waging inside you. You could feel it, the way he reveled in your inner conflict, the tension thickening the air like an invisible thread pulling you toward him.

Your breath caught in your throat as you slowly lowered your hands from your face, fingers trembling just slightly. Your cheeks were still flushed, the heat of embarrassment lingering, but something else was there now too. Something that made your heart race, not out of shame but out of curiosity —of temptation.

Your eyelids fluttered shyly, hesitant, before you finally dared to meet his gaze. The moment your eyes locked with his, the smirk on his face widened ever so slightly, his confidence unshaken, even amused. He knew. He could see the crack in your defenses, the sliver of doubt that had taken root in your mind.

And the worst part? A part of you didn’t want to stop it.

“This is for you,” Anakin said, holding his hardened cock with his flesh hand, his voice low and husky, each word dripping with unspoken desire. There was a tension in his tone, thick and electric, the kind that made the air between you feel charged. His gaze was locked on yours, darkened with the intensity of his emotions, and you could feel the weight of it —how deeply you affected him, how you turned him on.

He wanted you to know. To feel the way the mere sight of your flushed face stirred something primal within him, something dangerous and raw. It was as if a storm had begun to brew in his chest, the pull of his desire rising like a tide, ready to drown both of you. The restraint he usually held was crumbling, like a volcano on the verge of eruption, and the way his breath hitched, just slightly, told you that it was taking everything he had to hold it back.

And yet, he didn’t. His words, his gaze—they were a confession in themselves. This was all for you.

The intensity of Anakin's gaze left you breathless, your body trembling in anticipation. You could feel your own arousal building, the heat between your legs growing more insistent with each passing second.

He waited for your response, his eyes never leaving yours, as if daring you to take what he offered. Your hand trembled slightly as it reached out to meet him, your fingers brushing against his hardened length.

He let out a soft groan, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. The sound felt a shiver down your spine, the power you held over him a heady intoxication. You wrapped your hand around him, feeling the heat radiating from his cock, the veins that pulsed beneath your touch.

He watched you, your hands tentatively exploring him, your eyes wide and curious. He loved the way you looked, the way you felt. He wanted to teach you everything, to show you how to please him, how to make him feel good.

Anakin's fingers intertwined with yours, his hand covering yours as he showed you the rhythm he preferred. "Like this, Padawan," he whispered, his voice a soothing murmur against your ear. "Gentle, but firm."

You followed his lead, your hands moving in unison, your strokes slow and deliberate. Anakin's breath hitched, his eyes fluttering closed as you began to find your rhythm.

"It's different," you admitted shyly, your fingers still slightly clumsy around his hardened cock. You bit your lower lip, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Am I doin’ right?" you asked nervously, your gaze meeting his.

Anakin's lips curved into a smile, the warmth in his eyes unmistakable. "Yes, padawan, you're doing just fine," he reassured you, his voice thick with desire. "Just like that.

You continued to stroke him, your movements more confident now. Anakin's body began to tense, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “faster” he whispered, his voice urgent.

He could feel his orgasm building, could feel his body tensing. Anakin watched you, your eyes wide and trusting, your hands moving faster, your fingers slick with his pre-cum. He loved the way you looked, the way you felt. He loved the way you made him feel.

"Oh, Padawan," he moaned, his voice a low, guttural sound. "I'm going to come."

With a shuddering breath, he did,  his orgasm hitting him like a freight train.  He came in your hand, his seed spilling hot and thick over your fingers, his body shuddering as the waves of pleasure washed over him.

Anakin leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead as his release ebbed away. “Good girl, padawan” he whispered, his breathing gradually returning to normal. “You did so good.” he said, his voice soft.

You stood there, bathed in the lingering warmth of the moment, your eyes flickering to your hands. Your fingers were coated in the thick, milky substance of his release. "It's sticky," you murmured, your voice tinged with innocent curiosity as you stared at your fingers. You shyly pulled them away, a thin line of cum stretching between two delicate fingers.

Anakin watched you, his eyes dark with desire and a hint of mischief. "Let me help you with that," he said, his voice low and husky. He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. "It's only fair that you clean it up, Padawan."

You looked up at him, your eyes wide with surprise. "Clean it?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Anakin nodded, his thumb brushing against your fingers, smearing the cum slightly. "With your mouth," he suggested, his gauze locked onto yours. "It's only fitting, don't you think?"

You hesitated for a moment, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. But the thought of tasting him, of pleasing him in this intimate way, feels a shiver of anticipation down your spine. 

Slowly, you brought your fingers to your mouth, your tongue darting out to lick the sticky substance from your skin. Anakin's breath hitched as he watched you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You did so good, padawan. I'm so proud of you.” he whispered, his voice soft. 

[simonbrain]

cw: rough sex between simon and johnny, very brief knifeplay, a little blood, reader doesn't actually have sex with them lol soz

you've always been a little soft. from the pliable skin of your body to the big, tender heart in your chest, it's no wonder you caught simon's attention.

you were like a deer in his presence at first. skittish and constantly in fight-or-flight mode, curtly cutting every interaction with him short just so you didn't have to face the beast that resided beneath the mask, the one that would surely scoop you up and feast upon your plush flesh.

although you had your reservations, the person who really reeled you in was his sergeant. sweet, charismatic johnny, easing you into the lion's den with praises of his lieutenant, promising the big bastard isnae tha' bad and that he just needs some patience and understanding.

you gave him the benefit of the doubt and reluctantly lowered your guard, allowing not only him but simon as well to see the soft, gooey centre that you kept hidden. fleeting conversations became longer and more playful, a large, warm hand from either of them on your back was more frequent, and the pet names fired your way were relentless, often leaving your panties sticky and uncomfortable.

they weren't only a part of your work life; they came home with you sometimes for a good feed and a nice, warm bed to sink into, forcing you to sit on the couch and pick a movie for the night at the end of dinner. whenever you called out if they needed help with packing away the food or doing the dishes, the looks they gave you were enough to make you turn your head back to the tv. it always ended with simon carrying you to bed while johnny shuffled right behind, wrapped up in the blanket. the mornings were always harder to get through whenever they stayed over because you just wanted to stay cocooned between their warm bodies, so broad and protective, but all three of you had duties to attend to. despite starting later than they do, the few hours of sleep you lose are worth it.

the longer you spend time with them, the more you're beginning to realise that your perception of them is far from the reality. simon is so... gentle with you; strange as it is describing him as such, there's no other way to put it. the way he looks at you, speaks to you, and keeps his desire on a short leash, only because he doesn't want to overstep your boundaries, has your heart fluttering at how much of a gentleman he is. you don't shy away from him anymore; you drink up each moment you can be near him, clinging to him and even rewarding him with a kiss in an empty corridor, quietly sulking when he stops your naughty hands from sliding down his body to tug at his belt.

"not yet, sweet'art," he hums, the sound so gravelly it makes your thighs squeeze together. "just wait a little longer, aye? johnny and i will take care o'you, i know he's dyin' for it."

god, speaking of johnny, ever since you've gotten closer, he's nothing but a koala, constantly looming over you when he's not busy and feeding you praises for basic fucking tasks that should not be getting praised. he's so much rougher than you thought, and there shouldn't be heat licking up your spine every time his hands are on you, manhandling you into a storage closet so he can consume your very soul, whining into your mouth about how badly he and simon have wanted you, but you let it happen anyway. you let him slip his hand down between the layers of clothes to rub two fingers on your puffy clit until you're mewling into his mouth and spilling all over your already soaked underwear. you really should start bringing extra with you because you're getting sick of how wet you get just from being in their vicinity.

it's when simon comes back from one hell of a failed mission that you finally get a taste of him. except he goes through johnny first, and you have never been so alarmed but so turned on at the same time in your entire life.

he's so cruel, so fucking mean in the way he gropes and bites and fucks into johnny, who takes it all with a snarl on his face. his cock still drips and throbs even when he's sobbing out angry curses, and simon laughs at his pathetic attempts at defending himself, as if it was enough to deter simon's ugly, rough love, the type of love that he had been hiding from you.

you sit on the edge of the bed, a hand compressed tightly between your thighs as you watch them on the floor because simon wasn't even patient enough to get him on the bed, pushing his boy down to the ground and taking what's his. johnny howls and squirms, growling at simon and earning himself a harsh slap in the face, the hand planted tightly in his hair not discouraging him from ceasing his fight.

you should be scared. you should be turning away, feeling sick from watching how animalistic they are, how simon pounds into johnny with no remorse. you shouldn't be admiring the tears welling up in johnny's eyes or the way he lets out pained moans. you shouldn't be wishing it was you under simon instead, getting your hair pulled and being left with no choice but to take the fat cock you've been daydreaming about. you definitely should not have let out a soft little whimper at the sight of simon whipping out a knife from his thigh holster to press it against johnny's throat, drawing a bit of blood because his thrusts are that rough.

when johnny only whines, his defiance dying down and being replaced with something softer, more compliant, simon rewards him with a nasty, sloppy kiss, a hand replacing the blade and wrapping around his throat, palm pressed up against the new wound.

it's fucking torture watching them, and you know they don't mean to tease with how rough they are, unknowing of how much it's getting you worked up, but you're starting to get impatient. you want to experience that, too; you want them to taint you. you want to be treated like nothing more than an unruly little mutt, being split apart on cock until you pass out from exhaustion, holes loose and wet and pliant. you want to fight only to be forced into submission—fuck, the thought is making your mouth run dry.

you're surprised at how wet you are when you shuffle on the bed, the feeling of soaked panties clinging to your cunt familiar but not welcome, especially with how many you've ruined. you can't wait for your turn, even if they definitely will be softer than this with you.

simon forces a violent orgasm out of johnny, a hand wrapped tight around his poor cock, moans and whines for more spilling from his bruised lips. if you weren't so dizzy, so needy, you would have gawked at his desperate pleas.

it's when simon's gaze flickers over to you that you finally decide to do something about the persistent throb between your thighs. you move back onto the bed more comfortably and slide your shorts off, slight embarrassment warming your cheeks as you catch sight of your arousal sticking from your pussy to your panties. you can tell that simon isn't done working his frustrations out, so you settle for using your fingers, content to rub yourself until they're done and ready to take care of you. maybe you should tell them about the newest discovery you've made about yourself later and see how well they handle keeping their hunger muzzled.

[fangsandfeels]

I've seen the "Non-ascended Astarion ending is bad for him because you have to persuade him to reject the ritual" opinion...

..implying that he never really wanted not to ascend, it's you the player who selfishly forces him to give up on his goal. To prove their point, they state that you can get a good ending out of all other companion's quests without using Persuasion at all, except for Astarion.

And boy did I want to talk about this...

(In fact, everything I wanted to say has already been told in this amazing meta post, but I still gotta ramble)

First of all, Astarion was going through an intense PTSD. The game gave him a debuff to show how badly going back to the place of his torment was affecting him. Larian couldn't make it more obvious that he wasn't thinking clearly.

Second, there is one thing all abusers have in common: they destroy their victim's feelings of self-worth to the point, the victim no longer wants or knows how to ask for help or have relationships outside their abusive circle.

Who would want you like this? Look at yourself, you think you're better than me? You're nothing. Who would want to waste their time on you? You think somebody else would treat you better?

Since entering the Cazador's palace, Astarion is reliving his worst moments. Initially, he takes it in stride, hiding his discomfort underneath performative and emotional expressiveness. He talks about how he spent time in the bedrooms where he never did any sleeping, about the kennels where he was tortured, about the barracks where he was sent to when he "deserved neither carrot nor stick". Bad memories, but he shares them with Tav because he trusts them with his scars already. They might as well know the rest.

But after descending into the dungeon, Astarion starts spiraling into self-loathing at a break-neck speed. He used to think that all Cazador victims he ever brought to him were long gone, drained, and discarded. A horrible, undeserved death, yet the thought of them not having to suffer for too long was a small consolation, one of the threads holding his sanity together.

But then it turns out that they weren't dead. They were turned. Locked away deep underground, alone with their new selves, with the hunger and isolation. They did suffer. All these years, they suffered, buried in this tomb - because of him. Cazador may have turned them, but it was Astarion who brought them to him. And they remembered it. They recognized him. The monster who stole them from their home. The monster who ruined their life. Monster. Just like Cazador.

So, as if his PTSD wasn't enough, this revelation was another blow to his grip on himself, his perception of himself. His confident facade was shattering - and in his head, he was starting to think that Tav's idea of him, of who he is, was shattering as well. He tried to warn them before. He said he couldn't be what they saw in him. Whatever person they believed him to be had never existed - and Tav was finally coming to realize that as they walked through the gallery of his sins, looking his victims in the eyes and hearing out what they had to say. Of course, Tav hated him now. They had to. How could they not?

So, at the end, he is scared. Terrified. He bit off more than he could chew by walking into the manor and thinking he had only six fellow spawns to deal with. He saw their lives as a small price to pay because Cazador made sure to erase any solidarity between them. He made them torture each other and compete with each other. He twisted the very meaning of family bonds to his perverted liking, and he knew that by doing so, he would make sure every single one of them would get a whiplash from anyone trying to mention family in a positive connotation. Astarion takes no issue with getting rid of his "brothers" and "sisters" because he is fully aware that had the roles been reversed, they would have sacrificed him without a second thought. And he was certain that Tav would change their mind once they learned more about his brethren.

But the spawns in the dungeon...All the faces he remembered. All the lovers he lured. They did nothing wrong. They never hurt him. They never tortured him. Their only mistake was to trust him.

The revelation horrifies him. His first response is to be shocked, overwhelmed with emotion - and then he has to remind himself that sacrifices must be made. He feigns indifference. He tries to cover his internal conflict with gallows humor. But his flippant mask keeps slipping as he lapses from indifference to anger, to guilt, to begging Tav not to hate him as his greatest crimes glare back at him and claw at him, shouting out threats and seething with hatred.

He can't bear the thought of dealing with all the people whose lives he helped to destroy. He can't do anything for them. Just killing Cazador won't undo what he did to them. He will never be anything but a monster in their eyes. And this is what he deserves to be. He will always be reminded of what he is.

He has no choice but to do the Ritual.

He has no idea what will happen to him after he is done - he isn't a planner. He has never been. But at this point, he doesn't see his soul as something worthy of preserving - and by association, he extends that to other spawns. He knows it all too well because he remembers how it felt. He dissociates, projecting everything he hated about himself onto Cazador's victims, trying to rationalize why he should live and why they must die while he actively avoids the truth.

Completing the ritual is no longer about being free. Or protecting himself and his lover. It's about running away. Even when Astarion has Cazador at his mercy, he still thinks of running away. Getting lost forever. So nobody could ever hurt him.

A part of him even realizes that it means running away from Tav too. But Tav can leave, he naively thinks, not knowing the full consequences of the ritual. Tav will leave to find someone else, someone better, and he will start everything anew, a king of his castle.

So, of course, Tav has to reach out to him through that thick haze of fear, anger, and self-hatred. Persuasion isn't about strongarming someone into doing what you want. It's not subjugation or emotional blackmail. It's reasoning with someone. And that is exactly what Tav does - reasons with Astarion after watching him mentally struggle, after seeing his genuine shock and fear, after understanding that he isn't fully on board with the idea.

It's true, vampire spawns tend to gravitate toward power, especially if nothing is pulling them back. A vampire spawn is a feared and scorned creature - it no longer matters whether they were an unwilling victim, forcefully taken and turned. They are seen not as an individual but as the extension of their master - and the only natural transition for them is to get on the top of the food chain. The only way to make a name and become treated as something more.

Astarion saw power as the mean to safety and freedom, first and foremost. Ironically, he never planned beyond securing these two priorities. He never saw himself after accomplishing his goals, and it's kinda amazing how people can make conclusions about his hedonism because he misses petty vanities, wants to drink blood from a goblet, and sleep on silken sheets. The man who was held and tortured in the kennels, fed rats, and had to stitch and fix his only set of clothes over and over to keep it presentable, the man who has never felt happy for most of his conscious non-life is called hedonistic for wanting nice things. For still wanting to take care of himself for once.

He wasn't harboring any grand plans, conquests, or schemes. Even his idea of taking control of the Absolute was abstract and shapeless because he didn't care about getting control over the most influential people as much as he was afraid of breaking whatever protected him from Cazador's domination. He never really knew what to do with power aside from keeping Cazador and the likes of him at bay.

The way Astarion behaves in a relationship also speaks tons of how controlling he really is...or how he isn't controlling at all. When his romance with Tav transforms into something real, and he enters a new territory, Astarion is empowered to make decisions and think about what he wants instead of pleasuring others. It's clear that he and Tav don't have sex after they come clear about their feelings. Tav respects his comfort and boundaries, gives him all the time he needs, and lets him take the lead. Whether they will have sex again or not is entirely up to Astarion. Whatever he decides, it won't change Tav's feelings for him. He doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to do.

Astarion enjoys this new autonomy. He is playful, affectionate, outspoken...and afraid of messing everything up. If Tav mentions breaking up, Astarion thinks he is the problem. If there is another potential love interest showing they have eyes for Tav, Astarion encourages Tav to be with them because he believes they can give Tav everything he can't. When Tav says "I choose you," Astarion is taken aback, needing a moment to hide his genuine confusion at Tav actually wanting to be with him rather than Gale, Karlach, or Halsin.

For all his talks of control and dominating others, once Astarion finds himself with a lover who values his autonomy more than getting power at the cost of his dignity, who makes it safe for him to be honest, and who listens to him, he almost stops mentioning control. He merely lives in the moment, happy not to know, not to pretend, not to manipulate. Just to be.

What Astarion truly craves - not wants on a superficial level, not conditioned to want - is not to be a vampire lord. He wants the freedom to be anything. Anything he wants. Little does he know that true vampires rarely get to be anything they want, even if they gain the ability to walk in the sun -- we see it in his Ascended path as, instead of acting up on his supposed freedom to be anything, Astarion repeats Cazador's rules step by step. Just like Cazador did. Just like Verlioth did. He isn't anything he wants. He is the replica of his former master.

Astarion never had the luxury to explore who he wanted to be outside what Cazador made him. He only makes his first steps once he is free. We see glimpses of that deep-seated aspiration to be seen as a person. Treated like a person. Loved like a person. To be reflected in someone's eyes. He wants to know if there is someone beneath his usual mask, something his, not tainted by Cazador. Someone real. And at the same time, he dreads to know the answer. Because that part of him knows regret. Knows shame. Knows guilt. Confronting it posed the risk of realizing he didn't deserve love, kindness, or a future. What if real him truly doesn't amount to anything? What else for him to do?

So, he tells himself that he has no choice, and he expects Tav to affirm it -- not because he wants them to, but because he believes that Tav has seen enough to make the same conclusion. However, Tav objects, trying to be louder than all the inner demons hissing into his ears. Tav speaks to the Astarion, who asked them what they saw when they looked at him. The Astarion, who thanked them for standing by his side when he said "No" to Araj. The Astarion one who stood frozen in their hug before returning it tentatively. The Astarion who diligently, dedicatedly, caringly kept pulling himself together instead of letting himself unravel completely.

Tav reminds him that this Astarion, right here, right now, is worth fighting for. That he didn't survive all these years of torture, pain, humiliation, and dehumanization to give himself up now. He already has the power to avenge himself, avenge all Cazador's victims. He can end everything right here, right now - and this is the only power to free him. He has the power (and responsibility) of having a choice.

Tav empathizes with other spawns as victims not because they're more "innocent" than Astarion, but because associating with them doesn't brand Astarion as weak or broken. These spawns aren't horrible wretches, and neither is he. They don't deserve this, and neither did he.

The only one who deserves to die today is Cazador - the vampire, the monster, the pathetic piece of shit.

Astarion Ancunin deserves to live.

[maxislvt]

Succubus Season

pairing(s): succubus! wanda maximoff x reader, brief natasha romanoff x reader

summary: Just when your life starts to come together, life throws another curve ball at you. Except this time it isn't a bully or a shitty English teacher. This curve ball is seven feet tall with horns and a lot of pent-up sexual energy.

warnings: jealousy, possessive thoughts/behavior, AMAB!Reader, dom!Wanda, sub!Reader, anal sex, anal fingering, prostate milking, overstimulation, cum eating, size kink (she's 7 feet tall)

a/n: Idk this is a tad self indulgent but it's Fine because it's sexy

Event Masterlist

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Adulthood came with many struggles. You made it through high school, your poor budgeting habits, and you're currently pushing your way through medical school. It wasn't easy, but your determination and pride got you through it. Now you were one step further into adulthood by owning a house. No more roommates or weird landlords. Just your own space with no one else in it.

However, you hit an unexpected bump in the road.

Moving in seemed harder than doing all the paperwork. At first, you blamed it on how far you were moving. Some of your friends were kind enough to drive anywhere from 2 to 15 hours to help you move. It was possible they were tired and didn't consider how strenuous moving was. Then things got a little bit odd. You couldn't leave a room unattended for more than half an hour without someone getting some sort of freak injury. Luckily it was nothing worse than little cuts or bruises.

Oddly, fixing up the garage proved to be the hardest part. Bucky got sent to the hospital over a spider bite. Steve's asthma suddenly kicked up — though part of that was his fault considering everyone told him it'd be a bad idea to clean a dusty room without an inhaler. A lot of them had been overcome with mysterious illnesses and your team was getting smaller and smaller.

Eventually, it was down to just you and Tony.

All that was left to do was fix your janky garage door and the god-awful cabinets. It should've been a simple job. Replacing a few doors and fixing up some gears. Unfortunately, it turned out to be nearly impossible.

"God, this stupid fucking drill." You grumbled while trying to loosen the screws holding the cabinet door together. Tool malfunctions were another thing hindering your progress. One toolbox to fix the whole house wasn't entirely effective, but the finicky handles and rather disagreeable drill bits weren't making it any better. "Son of a bitch, these cabinet doors are hideous anyways!" After another failed attempt at removing the screw, you slam the tool on the countertop with a frustrated grunt. You slammed it a bit too hard against the counter because the sound shook the whole garage.

The old gears in your garage door creaked and shook before suddenly turning to drop the door.

"Tony, look out!" You shouted before running over to catch the door. The metal door slammed down hard on your shoulder blades. "Ah, shit!" You hissed out. It took all your strength to push the door back up. "Fuck, are you okay?" You asked Tony while rubbing your bruising shoulder blades.

Tony stared up at the garage door before getting up. He anxiously cleared his throat. "Well, if that doesn't open my eyes to my old age, I don't know what will." His shaky hands smooth out his shirt before grabbing his tools. "Yeah kid, I think I'm gonna call it a day after that." An unusually shaky sigh fell from his lips as he hugged you.

You looked up at the garage door. It needed to be fixed, but nothing physical was worth the life of a friend. "Um..yeah you do that. I'll just fix it my-"

"Don't do that," Tony interrupted, knowing your history with home repair.

A grimace overtook your features, but you knew Tony was right. "Okay, I won't fix it myself. I'll try and find some company to do it." You patted Tony on the back. He wasn’t the most tan friend you had, but you'd never seen him so pale before. "We should get you a drink before letting you head home."

With that, you were down to just yourself.

Your shoulders were in too much pain for you to keep working so you called it a day. Eight o'clock was a bit early for you, but you were much too shaky to do anything else. After a quick shower and some pain cream on your shoulder blades, you called it a day. Pain and warm water turned out to be the perfect combination for sleep.

"Release me…"

You shot up and immediately looked around the room. No one else was in your room. You weren't sure if it was real, but there were goosebumps on your skin and the hairs on your neck wouldn't lay down. As scary as it was, you decided you must've left the TV on up front and ignored it.

The next morning you're a bit jarred but ready to spend the weekend cleaning.

You looked around the garage to see what you had left to do. The garage door was off-limits and you were beyond frustrated with the cabinets in there. Just when you thought it'd be a simple work day, you noticed a hatch on the roof. Odd, you don't remember there being an attic on the room list when you bought the house.

You shrugged and jumped up to bring down the step ladder. The creaking underneath your feet meant it was time for the wood to be replaced, but you decided to prioritize exploration. Which turned out not to be the best idea.

"What the fuck!?" The words slipped out before you could even think. You looked around the attic. Chalk lines drawn out to make a magical symbol that you weren't even going to pretend you understood. There were more symbols carved into the wall. In the middle of it all, there was a small table. You weren't crazy enough to step towards it but you could see a jar filled with some mysterious liquid surrounded by other magical trinkets you didn't want to touch. "...Well, I guess that's what I get for buying a three-bedroom house for less than 100,000," You whispered as you climbed down the ladder.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Now that you were terrified of your garage, you decided to focus on the less haunted part of your house.

It was a pain in the ass to move furniture and boxes by yourself, but better than a bunch of mysterious dead friends. After about a month or so, you were finally satisfied with the state of your house. The once barren walls were now filled with photographs and pairings. Long gone was the feeling of emptiness. It was your space now.

"Let me out, detka, please."

Oh, and the space of whatever freaky demon that was occupying that jar in your attic. Ignoring it was becoming harder. What started as the occasional whisper in your sleep turned into uncomfortably realistic wet dreams and a lot of ruined underwear. Now you could feel it hovering over you.

Tonight was the worst of it. Sensual kisses along the column of your neck pulled you in and out of sleep. Its hands were abnormally adventurous too. A less sleep-deprived version of yourself would've questioned the kisses on your neck, but your lack of sleep had left you a tiny bit delusional. One particular rough kiss finally woke you up properly.

The pain made you jolt up. "Fuck, you're having fun with this." You whisper despite the fact you're not sure it was listening. Your sleep shorts are stained with precum and you're painfully erect. A heavy sigh fell from your lips. "God, I hope you don't turn out to be some evil murder demon." The walk to your garage felt incredibly long. Each step added to the knot in your stomach. It was a miracle you didn't vomit by the time you stood underneath the hatch.

Your body moved as if it weren't your own. Awkward and clunky, but desperate to reach a goal you weren't too keen on. Once the ladder dropped back down your fate was sealed. You climbed up into the attic and stumbled towards the table.

For a moment just looked at the jar. Then you started laughing. "God, I am losing my mind. What is this stuff anyways, some disgusting old jam?" You scuffed with unwarranted confidence as you opened the jar.

It was not jam. Nor was it jelly or some other kind of preserve.

It was a seven-foot-tall demon. She had tinted red skin and two sets of horns sticking out of her head. You could see serrated teeth and an uncomfortably long tongue behind plum lips. You couldn't see them since they were above your head and you weren't going to risk looking away from it, but you could tell that it had claws.

The only thing keeping you from screaming your head off was not wanting to deal with a noise complaint in the morning.

"So um, can you put in on rent or are you just gonna bum out in my attic?"

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Wanda lived on Earth for thousands of years and never had she met a human more determined than you were. At first, she blamed your disinterest on her demonic form, but not even her human form could take your eyes off whatever project had taken up your time. Your focus was admirable, but Wanda was starting to get hungry.

So she decided to be more upfront about her needs.

Today, the only thing between her and a proper meal was a book. One you'd been reading for nearly an hour, but it was easier to take your attention away from that than it was from work.

Wanda laid down on your stomach and looked up at you with the softest, most desperate eyes she could muster. "I know this might come off as too much, but I'm really hungry...I just need a little something to get me through the day." Her eyes carefully watched your facial expression. Your eyebrows furrowed and your lips turned down.

"Oh, you must be starving."

Wanda was expecting a more sympathetic tone, but you said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You quickly marked your page in the book and laid it down on the coffee table. "Wait right here, I'll make you something good." Part of you felt like one of those evil landlords on Reddit. You were making her pay rent but she didn't feel comfortable eating. "I have some snacks in the cabinets if you're really hungry. Help yourself to whatever."

Her fingers twitch. It's not what she wanted, but she found herself tempted. "It's fine, I can wait," She whispered. Succubi shouldn't get nervous. Wanda's hands reached out and held your waist. The benefit of being a succubus is that Wanda knows you won't deny her. Her fingers slipped underneath your shirt just to feel the softness of your skin. "What are you cooking?"

The question confused Wanda. She'd never cared about a human beyond a desire to feed off of them, but you were different. She was desperate to know more about you. Wanda wanted you in a way that she'd never wanted a human before. Thoughts of jealousy began stirring in her heart. As her fingertips explored the softness of your skin.

It didn't take long for that desire to evolve into something more deviant. Wanda found herself hating the physical space between you and her. She found herself disappointed she couldn't be inside you. As adorable as human fragility was, she couldn't stand the fact she couldn't be closer. Wanda needed to be under your skin and next to your still-beating heart. A hoodie could only make up for that half the time.

It wouldn't be much longer before she'd have to feed from you. Only you.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It was embarrassing to admit as a succubus, but Wanda had officially gone multiple months without feeding from anyone. To rub salt in the wound, the one person she wanted to feed from seemingly had no issue sleeping around.

You were always talking up some girl and brought a new one home every other week. That was bad enough on its own, but you were always kind enough to make them breakfast or wash their clothes before sending them off. And once they were gone, you were right back by Wanda's side like nothing happened. Like you didn't just manage to play with the feelings of a succubus and send her into a jealous spiral.

Your latest adventure seemed to get under her skin like no one else before. This mysterious redhead had done quite a number on you. Dark red and purple bruises littered your neck and shoulders and you could barely stand upright. If you hadn't bashfully shooed her away, Wanda wouldn't have had a problem helping. Of course, your little fling was there to save the day.

"I didn't think you'd be able to walk after all that," The woman said with an amused tone. She sauntered up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist. Her chin rested on top of your head. "You sure you don't want me to finish those up for you? I'm a little worried you're gonna collapse on me."

You squirmed in Natasha's grasp as her fingers traced along the top of your waistband. "Y-yeah, it's fine Natasha. Just go watch TV or something…" The blush on your face is almost hot enough to cook the eggs. You don't even remember the last time someone made you this bashful. It was new. "I appreciate your offer though," You mumbled, unsure how to carry on the conversation.

"You're still shy even after last night?" Natasha asked teasingly. Her fingertips slipped into your boxers but didn't move much further past the waistband. She pushed her hips against your ass just enough for you to feel the pressure. "I think I like being right here, just like this." She whispered into your ear. Her eyes looked off to the side with a knowing smirk.

The whole scene made Wanda sick with jealousy. Her stomach churned every time you laughed at one of Natasha's jokes. Succubus couldn't throw up, but she. would've already. You were hers even if you didn't know it yet.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You felt like you were going mad.

It was getting harder to suppress your attraction to Wanda. You wish you could blame it on her interest in human clothes or all the cuddling, but neither of those was the problem. It was all your perverted tendencies. Every time Wanda crossed your mind it was always something sexual. These thoughts weren't brief either. Once you started one of your sick little fantasies, it was hard to stop. You were washing 20 pairs of underwear a week with how much precum you were leaving.

Your growing relationship with the demon only made things more complicated. Wanda seemed to become more physically affectionate by the day. Her human form was cute but it was her natural form that seemed to be giving you the most trouble. The shock of meeting a demon for the first time had worn off and you began to notice the small details. If your dick would appreciate them as well.

The only thing it seemed to care about was how big Wanda was. Especially when she was using you as her body pillow. The softness of her breast pressed against your chest and it was driving you mad. You were so focused on not getting a boner that you completely drowned out the noise from the movie.

As fun as watching you squirm and wiggle, Wanda had waited long enough.

She sat up on your lap, straddling your hips with her thighs. Wanda's hand slipped underneath your shirt to keep you pinned to the couch. Her claws lightly scratched at the sensitive skin. "It's cute you think I can't tell how turned on you are right now." A satisfied chuckle escaped her lips as you sucked your breath. "Don't think I haven't heard all those nasty little thoughts in your heads."

Your eyes followed Wanda's fingers nervously. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me!" She toyed with the hem of your shorts. You were at a loss for words. It wasn't like you could deny your feelings with your dick hard as a rock. “I know we’re like roommates, but we don’t have to do anything!” Embarrassment wasn't good enough to describe how you were feeling. You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and disappear.

Wanda ripped off your shorts in one swift motion. “Oh detka, I want to be something more than just roommates.” Her long tongue licked the precum oozing from your neglected tip. It left a savory taste in her mouth that she couldn't help but enjoy. “God you don’t know how hard it was to live knowing you were wasting this stuff on girls who couldn’t make you feel half as good as I do.” Her free hand massaged your balls as she took your length inside her mouth. They weren’t as full as she would’ve liked them to be, but Wanda knew she would have access to them whenever she wanted them. Self-control was quickly flying out the window. Her hunger was starting to take over and she no longer had it in her to go slow for your sake. Wanda needed your cum and she needed a lot of it. “Do you know the best part of having sex with a succubus?”

The pleasure alone had your head spinning. “W-what?” It wasn’t a response to her question, but rather a moment of shock at Wanda’s confession. You weren’t well versed in the land of demons, but you didn’t think Wanda was anything like that. Was she gonna eat you? Maybe you should’ve asked more questions rather than worrying about her paying rent.

Her hand wrapped around your dick and began stroking slowly. She leaned forward to whisper in your ear. “I know exactly how to fuck you senseless.” Wanda hooked your legs over her shoulders. This time, Wanda's tongue went straight for your asshole. She watched your eyes roll to the back of your head with a satisfied smirk. No one's ever fucked you this way. It's almost impossible for her tongue fuck you the way she'd like but your whining makes up for it.

You're a mess. It felt like your insides were melting, but you were too overstimulated to even consider pushing back. You were usually the one on top and doing all the teasing. Now it was near impossible for you to speak without moaning and stumbling over your own words. "F-fuck, I'm close. Please don't stop, I'm gonna cum!" Your hands grabbed Wanda by her horns and pulled her closer to your ass.

Wanda hummed against you. You looked so cute when you were desperate to cum. She pushed your shirt up to your chest and signaled for you to hold it up. Of course, you do it without question. That mindless obedience would get you far. Wanda's tongue pressed down against your prostate. Milking you was a bit much for your first time doing anal, but Wanda wasn't going to hold back.

You couldn't even speak. It was just a string of desperate moans in place of words. The knot in your stomach bubbled up and snapped suddenly. Cum shot out of you in sticky, hot ropes. Your orgasm was almost never ending. Every time you thought it was over, she'd keep pushing you.

Wanda kept milking you until you'd gone soft. Her tongue slipped out of your hole. She wasted no time licking up the cum dripping down your chest and stomach. A deep, guttural moan escaped her lips at the taste of your cum. Her eyes glowed a deep red for a brief second. Wanda looked into your eyes and smirked. "I never want to see you with anyone else. Got it?"

You looked into her eyes and suddenly felt so tired. It was like a trance. There were a lot of questions going through your mind but you were too weak to ask any of them. "Got it." Was the only thing you could manage to say.

Wanda affectionately scratched your head. You were like a pet to her. "Let's get you cleaned up," She kissed your cheek before lifting you up and taking you to your bedroom.

You were grateful for her immense strength and gentleness. There was no way you'd be able to walk all the way to your room after that. You only vaguely heard Wanda's request that you not fall asleep while she prepared a bath for you. As tired as you were, there was something subconsciously urging you to stay awake as she requested. You rolled over slowly when Wanda returned from the bathroom. "Are you like…in my head forever now?" You asked sleepily.

Your question caught Wanda off guard. She didn't answer your question at first. Instead, she rolled you onto your stomach. It was only then that she had the answer to your question. "It appears so." She said calmly. Her fingers traced the tattoo now permanently etched into your skin. "Don't worry, I'll be kind to you..if you behave."

[livelaughlovesubs]

Sigma and Fyodor with the prompts: fitting them with a collar and dressing them up in degrading outfits plsss. I need my subby Sigma. :3

Your thirsts shall be satisfied! Two subby men right away :]

Dom!gn!reader x sub!Sigma/ Fyodor (separate)

Warning: collaring, teasing, feminisation, hierophilia, cross dressing, established relationship(s)

Anniversary event

Sigma

He doesn’t even know why he agreed, he must have been out of his mind. He knew it was bad news when you came up to him, smiling all giddily, unable to hide your intentions while asking him so sweetly, “you’d do it for me, right? Plea~ase?”

And his intuition wasn’t wrong. Poor boy could barely contain himself when he saw what you had in store for him, and it took ages to actually convince him. Deep down, he cursed himself for being a push over when it came to you, but what was he supposed to do?

That’s how you got him to wear a super cute and revealing bunny boy costume, a typical one, except that it had some purple elements. Some of the ribbons were in a cute lavender colour. With it came a pair of bunny ears and plug tail, as well as some basic stockings. He didn’t dare to wear the tail by himself, since he was too embarrassed, and frankly, he didn’t manage to do it himself.

When he walked out of the room, to showcase just how amazing these clothes complimented his body, his face was already a bright red hue. Arms crossed in front of his chest, gaze lowered to the ground and knees threatening to give up underneath him. You gulped, astonished by how beautiful and sexy he looked, then you clapped as you complimented him, “it looks great! Really, really good!”

“Shut up..” Sigma replied all feisty, clenching his eyes shut as he shuddered. He wasn’t cold, it was because his heart was pounding really fast, pumping blood to his cheeks and lower part. It was too much for him to handle. “Aww, how mean of you~ I thought you wanted to be a good bunny?” You cooed at him, standing up and walking towards him with your hands behind your back, probably holding something, hiding it from his field of vision.

The male leaned back when he felt you were too close, eyes staring holes at the thing you were hiding, putting his hands up in front of his face, “h-hey, don’t tell me you have something lewd in mind.” You faked a surprised expression, gasping all dramatic, “something lewd? I’d never, what do you think of me?” But the smirk you had on your face told him otherwise, you really had to work on your mimics.

“It’s nothing bad, don’t worry.” You explained, then quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, whispering a small, “promise ♡” He stared right into your eyes, sweating a little, body heating up at the closeness and intimate nature of the moment. That’s when he felt something being wrapped around his neck, and it tightened, choking him for a split second.

That fraction of a second was enough to make him jump and gag, yelping and whining, “argHH..! What- what are you doing?!” The suffocating feeling was soon gone, though now replaced with a slight itch of something wrapping around his neck. “Ahhh, sorry for not alarming you. It looks so pretty though!” You apologised halfhearted, pressing your hands together as you did.

He frowned, still blushing. To be honest he had an index what it was, though just to be sure, he reached for the item with his hand and brushed over it. As expected, it was a collar. “���why are you being so sneaky with putting it on me, you gave me a heart attack.” Sigma complained, looking away in shame. He was getting really flustered and aroused due to all the set up he wore, the blush even crept up to his ears now.

“I wanted to see your surprised expression.” You answered in a heart beat, now wrapping your arms around his waist. “It was so worth it.” The boy glared at you, pouting slightly. Then he felt you grope his butt, and he shrieked, squirming in your grasp, shoulders jerked upwards and he mumbled, “w-what now?!”

“Where’s your tail, little bun’?” You asked, not stopping yourself. He grasped your shoulder and pushed you away weakly, his voice was meek as he replied, “obviously not there..” Suddenly you chuckled, that caught him off guard. Which is why he stopped avoiding your gaze and glanced at you, immediately regretting that action because god he could feel his legs going weak because of that look on your face. It was as if you wanted to devour him.

With a low voice, you teased your little pet bunny, asking all provocative, “let me help you grow a tail then?” And gone was his last ounce of dignity or resistance. He didn’t even put up a fight as he fell into your arms, twitching all over while whispering his answer, “p-please do..”

Fyodor

“Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. 1, Peter 4:8.” His beautiful voice, as graceful as ever, whispered softly while he scanned over multiple pages from the bible. He wanted to read you some of his favourite verses, lifting the corners of his lips slightly, eyes focused and sparkling. This was one of his hobbies, he liked how calming it was.

Most of the time, you weren’t even listening properly, instead you liked seeing that eager glim in his pupils. Sometimes he’d catch you staring, well, he knows you are, but he doesn’t mind. Still, you’d occasionally ask some questions, to keep him entertained, “what does that mean?” Fyodor closed his eyes, still smiling at you, then replied, “there is no definite answer, though if you ask me… I’d say sins committed in the name of deep love can be justified.”

You stayed quiet, thinking about his statement. Somehow that clicked in your head, and you asked to make sure, “Is that why you don’t hesitate when doing stuff with me?” He didn’t responded, only continuing to grin like nothing happened before leaning closer to you and giving you a peck on the lips. A sense of warmth and comfort swallowed your pounding heart, and you chuckled, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

When you glanced at him again, you couldn’t help but think of how beautiful he was. That thought kept plaguing you, making you want to see him in a prettier outfit. “Hey, I think that’s enough for today,” you eventually declared, playing with his hair as you waiting for him to finish the page. “Hm? Alright then. I take it you have something else in mind?” Fyodor closed his bible, placing it onto the table next to him, looking at you expectantly.

“Yea, I actually do.” You told him while you grabbed his hand, guiding him to the closet and picking out some clothes for him to wear. “Ah…” he made a small sound of acknowledgment when he saw what you choose for him, then nodded and said, “i see what you want to do, well, I guess I don’t mind trying.” Despite how calm and collected he sounded, the small blush that crept up his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by you. Hence, you teased, “by the looks of it you are pretty excited as well.”

There goes his carefully crafted facade, he let a sharp sneer slip pass, then rushed you to get out. You had no choice but to wait until he was done. On your way out of the bedroom, you quickly opened one of the drawers, taking something with you. You hummed to yourself the entire time, anticipation building inside you. After about 10 minutes of leaning against the wall outside of the room, you heard the much awaited click of the door. Without wasting a single best, you barged back in.

“And? Does it fit? Lemme see-” annnd the waiting was worth it. You felt a tingle in your stomach when you laid your eyes on him, on his almost completely nude body. He was only wearing a set of black nun lingerie, with an equally dark cloth thrown over his head. The way he stood there was awkward, as if he wasn’t completely comfortable wearing these clothes. His eyes soon found yours, and his gentle smile returned.

“What do you think?” Fyodor teased, bending over slightly to make himself smaller, looking up at you, doing his signature expression. The bra and panties fit him perfectly, it emphasised his figure very well. Though it also reminded you of how awfully skinny and sickly he actually was, and you couldn’t hold yourself back from pulling him into a tight embrace. Wrapping both arms around his waist, pushing your body against his while mumbling sweet nothings into his ear.

One praise after another fell from your lips, grazing and tickling his skin like a tender breeze. “You look like an angel.” You said, even though his outfit was probably way too suggestive to be anything close to an angel. Nevertheless it didn’t change the fact that you thought he was heavenly. “Really, so gorgeous.” His blush darkened by a few shades, then he pushed you away playfully, whispering, “that’s enough. Can I change back now?” In contrary to what he expected, you shook your head, telling him, “there’s still one more thing.”

Before he got the chance to guess what you meant, you pulled out a collar that matched his eye colour. “This, I want to see you wear it.” You told him, so very straightforward, already getting to work and wrapping it around his neck. “Can I?” After you were almost done, you finally decided to ask him. He reacted pretty slow, eyes widened while he let you do what you wanted. And when you asked for his opinion, he hesitated for a bit, though in the end, he nodded meekly.

With a swift move, you adorned his neck with a personal collar, adding the final touch to his outfit. “It’s perfect.” You gasped astonished, reaching out to the collar and sticking one finger in, pulling slightly, “does it hurt?” The boy shook his head even if he gaged a little. Because of the pull he was now dangerously close to you, basically as close as earlier.

Without missing the chance, you spun him around and pushed him onto the bed, smiling as you chirped, “now, let’s see how deep our love is.”

There he was, all hot and bothered, almost laid bare, on his back, waiting for you like a five course meal you couldn’t resist. He smirked widely, giving you a cheeky answer, “I’m sure it’s deep enough to excuse whatever you’re going to do to me.”

Bonus!

[saerins]

─── 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 1.6k

notes: this man is taking over my life >:( if anyone knows how to get over him pls let me know i hate him <3

summary: nothing’s necessary except his talent in soccer, until you appeared. and now, he’s got a new challenge.

itoshi sae is great with soccer—anything that involves him on the pitch, he’ll ace it. he excels at everything he learns on the field, easy as pie.

he’s never really bothered to try to be good at anything else.

as his girlfriend, you know this. you’ve seen him perform and it makes you wonder why someone like him is even with you.

but that makes it especially funny in times like this, when you see him staring at his laundry in shock because his whites turned pink.

“what the fuck?” he’s mumbling to himself, and you’re trying not to snicker from his living room, pressing your lips together.

it’s also funny when you hear him groaning from the kitchen, making you switch your camera off as you play hooky from your lecture and tiptoe out to see what happened.

you wonder how much you’d get if you photographed him right now, staring panickedly at his frying pan, his grilled chicken burnt to a crisp.

sometimes you can’t hold in your laughter, like right now, and sae whips his head around to glare at you.

“you know, i can cook dinner if you want,” you offer him.

sae scoffs, waving you away, “i can do it. just go back to your lecture.”

he’s stubborn, and you think that’s adorable, so you leave him to it.

you ate very tough skinless chicken that night. you told him it’s not bad, just to spare his feelings.

“you’re really quite hopeless with all of this,” you mumble absentmindedly as you look at your white dress shirt, a hole in the shoulder blade.

“shut up, i’ll get you a new one,” sae grumbles, grabbing it from you and tossing it in the bin.

it’s really quite cute how he tries to help with your chores, especially when he found out how swamped you are with finals and your part-time job as a receptionist at a big shot law firm. sae can be thoughtful when he tries to be.

sure, he ends up being more trouble than help, but you’re kind of entertained by his fuck ups so you let him be. it’s part of his many charms; he is an absolute beast on the field, but he’s like a child outside of it. he’s grumpy and stubborn and such a baby. you’re wondering if he can ever live alone because of it.

“here, wear mine,” sae says, offering you his white button down shirt instead.

you weren’t exactly living together, but you stay over sometimes, and most times he’s the one staying over, only because your apartment is more well-equipped for day to day life.

and by that you mean that, at the very least, your fridge is well stocked, vegetables and meat and whatnot, and you have detergents and bathing necessities and everything a guest could possibly need.

meanwhile, even if sae’s apartment is ten times more beautiful and luxurious than yours, his fridge is empty because he always orders takeout without you around, and he only has just enough supplies for himself. which isn’t a crime, but obviously he hasn’t had much of his past girlfriends staying over because he got stressed that one time he had to buy you pads and tampons.

you smile to yourself when you remember how panicked he was while he was at the feminine care aisle in the supermarket, rambling on and on about how people are staring at him because he kept taking all the different brands because he doesn’t know what the fuck you like.

he ended up giving up and getting one of each, and you’re greeted by one of his fanpages on instagram posting about it, a sighting by one of their followers coupled with a picture of sae trying to hide in the hood of his jacket, face beet red while the cashier processed his entire basket of tampons.

now his house has a whole year’s worth of tampon supply.

that was also the night where everyone found out he had a girlfriend.

“you wanna head out for dinner later?” you ask him as you button up his shirt on yourself.

sae drags his eyes over your body. you look good in his shirt, he should let you wear his stuff more often. but you turn his way and he averts his gaze just in time.

“sure, you end at 8?”

you nod.

“fine, i’ll pick you up later,” sae says and shoos you out the door. he glances at the clock on your wall.

3pm. he has about four hours to settle this.

you find sae parked outside the lobby when you end your shift.

“have fun with your dreamy boyfriend,” the other receptionist coos, shooting you a knowing look before she walks off with a wink.

you bid her goodbye and then turn your attention back to your boyfriend, who’s so busy with his phone that he doesn’t even notice you coming.

if someone were to tell the old you that you and sae would turn out to be lovers in the future, you’d have laughed your ass off. he used to be nothing more than someone you used to watch at soccer matches, just some guy who seemed to live in such a different world than yours that you never imagined you’d ever get together with him.

who knew that a single conversation you had with him at the age of seventeen could’ve spurred you to where you are now, age twenty-one and still very much in love with each other?

maybe you should’ve flirted with sae sooner. maybe you should’ve annoyed the shit out of him and made him notice you more before that night.

but you’re not complaining—you’re happy with where you are right now.

you’re getting good grades at school, your employers are very satisfied with you and would offer you a permanent position there any time, and you have a wonderful boyfriend, even if he is surly and inexpressive most of the time.

“hey there,” you greet as you get into his car, and sae gets spooked so much he drops his phone on the ground. again, one of his many charming qualities. you note how he hates horror, the complete opposite of his brother.

sae’s ears turn red from embarrassment, but he picks his phone off the ground and drives off, a hand on the steering wheel and his other hand on your thigh.

“were you busy earlier?” you ask sae once you’re both halfway into dinner, suddenly remembering how he chased you out of the house.

sae cocks his brow, “not really, just had a meeting.”

“oh, with who?”

you’re wondering whether it was with his manager, maybe there’s more sponsorship deals for him. or maybe it was with his coach, about soccer stuff you wouldn’t understand.

“your parents,” he says, so nonchalantly you almost think he’s kidding.

“wait, baby what?”

sae’s eyes flick up from his dinner to you, long lashes framing those pretty teal eyes. his hair looks so soft you kind of want to run your hands through them, but you tell yourself to focus now.

“they just wanted to talk to me because i sent them an alarming text,” he says, not so helpfully because he doesn’t elaborate further. plus, the fact that his face is as stoic as ever doesn’t alleviate your worries that it’s something bad.

“what did you tell them?”

sae’s expression doesn’t change. “secret.”

“babe, you’re killing me.”

sae sighs, his hand in yours as the both of you walk back to your apartment. “the last thing i would do is kill you,” he says, fumbling for his copy of the keys to your apartment. “who’s gonna do my laundry for me then?”

you slap him on his arm, getting to hear him snicker for the first time tonight. he unlocks your door and lets you walk in first, and the moment you do, you’re frozen in position.

there’s rose petals on the floor, scattered around the living room. there’s photos hanging off of delicately strung ropes, all photos of you and sae. photos of the both of you the first time you spoke on the pitch, photos of you meeting his parents and brother, photos of your first couples trip to europe. your coffee table has become a makeshift photo spread, even more photos spread out on it.

“w-what’s all this?” it comes out as a whisper, but sae hears you.

you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind, a pair of lips pressing a kiss onto your temple. “i love you, y/n,” he whispers, and you think you’re dreaming because he rarely ever says it, he’s more the kind of person that shows it.

but in this moment, it’s both. and you’re overwhelmed, in a good way.

itoshi sae is great with soccer, and he’s never felt the need to even try and be good at anything else. but not now, not anymore.

when you turn around, sae is on one knee, a beautiful bright diamond ring sitting in a velvet box on his palm.

“marry me, y/n,” sae asks, in a very sae-like manner. like he knows your answer and he’s cutting to the chase.

you tell him yes anyway, because there’s no way you’d ever say no.

that night as the both of you lay in your bed, nervous fingers twiddling with each other’s, each of you looking into the other’s eyes, sae’s decided on his life mission.

sure, he’s probably a pain in your ass when it comes to household chores. but he’ll learn. he’s also probably insufferable when he’s being stubborn, but he’d never want to be someone else’s problem.

for you, he’d do anything. for you, he’d put everything else second. for you, he’s going to be the best husband there ever was.

[titaswrld]

daddy issues!

description: wade comforting you after having some serious daddy issues!

paring: wade wilson x fem reader

contains: angst, comfort, some dark themes, kinda 18+, daddy issues, dark descriptions of alcoholism, homelessness, just kinda sad

w.c: 1.7k

|an: lowk self indulgent highkey sad, i feel like this is kinda butt but lmk, also couldn’t decide if it should be wade pre or post deadpool so it’s up for you 🫵🏽 to decide. smut next i promise.

your dad has been a reoccurring factor in your life since you were nine; your parents divorced, he fell off the wagon, and he was almost a deadbeat alcoholic. except, despite it all, that was your daddy. that’s what hurt the most. you loved him, and he loved you, but he loved alcohol more.

your relationship with your dad was hard. he was your hero growing up; he was the coolest person you knew. playing his guitar, showing you the best kind of music, making you the best food, and showing you the best of film when he was sober. when he was drunk, he was unhinged and emotional, always terrorizing anybody and anything in his path.

as you grew up, you learned to just shut him out, accepting him for who he was. He tried rehab; it didn’t work. after he missed your high school graduation, your eighteenth birthday, and your college graduation, you learned to accept him when he’s sober and shut him out when he’s not. it wasn’t worth it. you spent half of your teenage years convincing him to quit; you spent too long trying to show him how much his drinking affected the people around him, but no dice. you learned to “forgive” him for the lost time, or more so, just get over it—the trauma, all of it. It still affected you, but convincing yourself you were “healed” worked better in your favor, as opposed to dwelling on what cannot be fixed.

it’s been a year since you’ve seen him face-to-face, and despite the occasional text telling your dad you love him and little life updates with the occasional response, he didn’t know much. a lot has changed about your life since then. that loser boyfriend your dad knew of, you dumped. a few months later, you meet your boyfriend, wade wilson. he was a character, and you loved him for it. you wish your dad could’ve met him before the alcohol got to his brain; he would’ve loved him.

honestly, you don’t think about your dad often, but when you do, you really go through it. it’s hard to hear how he’s doing, knowing his health is slowly declining, knowing you’ll never get your old daddy back; all these memories with him are just memories now, and you’re likely to never experience things like that with him again. Wade knew of this; he knew all about your dad. and he hated his guts, which he knew upset you, but he couldn’t help it.

he knew you were blindsided by the love you had for your father, but he fucking wasn’t. hearing about the things he’s done to you, the things he put you through, the things he wasn’t there for, and the way he traumatized you, he thought he was nothing but a selfish asshole, but of course he never said those words to you; all he did was hold you as you spoke about it and wipe your tears as he calmed you down with crude jokes, your favorite chick flicks, and takeout.

wade had his own daddy issues, but he killed his dad in cold blood, so he knew to just keep his mouth shut on the matter and do his boyfriend duties, comforting you and making sure that at the end of the day that you were okay.

today, you and wade were sitting on your bed, watching ta, and eating your favorite snacks.. until your stomach dropped as you saw that you received a text from your dad.

Hi, beautiful daughter. 😘

nothing bad, good…good. he seemed sober enough, so you decided to type out a response. hiding your phone from wade, as he laughed at something that happened in the show, he always told you to stop responding to him: “he’s drunk, he’s alone, and he wants someone to. bother; don’t let that drunk fuck ruin your days like that.” he’d always tell you..you never listened.

Hey dad! What’s up?

when your phone started ringing with an incoming call from "Daddy🩷,", you knew you were screwed. he always called you when he was drunk, and you always ignored him, saying you had bad signal, or were out and about, and he’d keep calling back and fourth until he eventually gave up.

“fuck!” you exclaimed. wade turned his head to see why you had shouted, and when he found out why, his expression dropped. jesus christ. but wade was sensing something off; you kept staring at the screen, your thumb inching toward the green button, as opposed to the one that read “message” to type out an excuse.

“youre going to accept the call? have you been smoking too much ganja? you need to lay off sweetheart.” he’d stated, wide-eyed and bewildered, that you’d accept the call. you always told him about what he’d say when you’d occasionally accept those calls.

“i kind of dug myself into a hole; he knows i’m on my phone. i can’t just ignore it, plus it’s been months. can..can you just stay in the room, please? i’ll put it on speaker; if it gets too much, i’ll just hang up. i can’t be alone when i talk to him.” you responded, panicking, trying to get all the words out before the phone stopped ringing. you knew it was stupid, but you felt so bad. you didn’t have the heart to ignore him today, knowing he was drunk and alone. you were all he had.

wade audibly sighed, seeing you so panicked and scared. how could he say no to you? “okay, okay, yes, answer it.”

you let out a shaky breath and answered the phone. you and wade heard a drunken “hey princess!” and you responded. long story short, it was the most transforming, life-altering, traumatizing conversion of your life. he told multiple stories, telling you about how he’s friends with all of these celebrities, having meetings with keanu reeves and brad pitt, how he was homeless and living on the streets for weeks until he finally found a hotel to stay at, how he got jumped, died for 8 minutes, then came back, how he’s famous, and how your mom was using him for fame.

all these stories proved to you how far gone he really was and how he’s not the same dad you knew and loved. you sat at the edge of the bed listening to every one, letting out the occasional response while tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. wade watched with a sad expression on his face. he rubbed your back to let you know he was there and you weren’t alone.

but then your dad started talking about how sorry he is, how sorry he is that he didn’t attend your high school graduation, how sorry he is that he hasn’t been much of a daddy these past few years, how he misses you and wishes he could hold and hug his beautiful daughter, and how proud he was that you were his daughter. how he was so proud of you and all your accomplishments.

as he started talking about this, his voice cracking and your drunken slur fading, you’d crawled into your boyfriend's lap, phone in hand, and hot tears rushing down your cheeks. this is when he started showing that he was still there; pieces of him were still in tact. you wanted to save him so badly, but that wasn’t your job, and even if there was no way to achieve that, he was gone, and you knew that.

wades expression began to crack as he felt a pang in his chest. as he felt your body wrack with more silent sobs, he cradled you in his lap, his nose nuzzled into your scalp, placing a lasting kiss so you knew he was still there. listening to everything your dad told you—in the flesh, he couldn’t believe it. the way he got mad at you for begging him to stop being so negative, the way he got mad and told you he wasn’t worth your tears once he heard your sniffles and strained voice—he’s never wanted to kill someone more, but knowing it would break your heart, of course he refrained. wade had never been this silent in his entire life.

after an hour of holding back, wade finally tapped the mute button in the middle of another one of your dad's drunken rambles.

“hang up; it’s over; it’s done with; you don’t need to listen to him anymore,” he stated sternly.

“i can't—i can't—he has nobody else.” you looked up at him, cheeks red and puffy, eyes sunken and swollen. he could hardly stand looking at you this way.

“babe, hang up the phone. i-i can’t look at you like this, and listen to the things he’s saying to you.” he said, sincerity laced within his tone and a worried expression plastered on his face.

you unmuted and gave your father an unbelievable excuse that he fought against but ultimately gave up on after you wouldn’t let up. after your dad hung up, you got off of wade's lap, reclaiming your seat at the edge of the bed. looking like a shell-shocked soldier, you put your head in your hands and wracked out more sobs as your body shook along with them.

“lt’s okay, honey; let it all out.” wade said from your side as his hand slid under your shirt and on your back as he began to rub small circles on your exposed skin.

as you began to calm down, you wiped your tears. your eyes were finally tired of all the crying, and your chest was in unbelievable pain from all the sobs that had escaped your lips. you said nothing as you climbed into bed, curling up into his chest as he took you in kindly, bringing the bedsheets up over the both of you to conceal you in the warmth of himself and the blanket.

“i know exactly what you’re going to want after this,” he said, cradling you in his chest and stroking your hair.

“what?” you said, your voice hoarse and muffled in his chest.

“hmmm… you’ll want to cook dinner together while we listen to chappell roan…watch she’s the man... then have hot, mushy, passionate sex.” he said in a matter-of-fact tone with some playfulness laced in between.

“wow, you know me so well.” you laughed into his chest, sending vibrations through his body, which caused a smile to break out on his face, bingo.

“well, looks like we better start soon huh?” he said, getting out of bed and flinging you over his shoulder like a rag doll to the kitchen. heart swelling as he heard more of that laughter he knows and loves.

[volturiprincess]

From the other side

Demetri Volturi x F newborn vampire

Warnings: Foul language, death, mentions of a Emetophobia, I bash on the Cullens here A/N: This was a request by @kpopgirlbtssvt, I got to say I enjoyed working on this. Its been a while since I worked on an actual long one-shot request but I hope the wait was worth it, and I might of changed some ideas on the request slightly (but still stayed on topic). Enjoy💙 Word Count: 4k+ (wow)

_____________________________

(He's just so gorgeous🥰)

“I think she’s waking up”

“How do you know?”

“Well you can see her eyeball moving Emmett, I'm no doctor but I think that is a sign she is waking up”

“Oh well sorry Mister Smartypants, didn't know I was in the presences of an expert”

“Focus, should we fetch Carlisle? He said he would be back soon but what if he’s already here?”

“I'll check, you stay here incase she starts moving around, wouldn't want her newborn instincts to kill Nessie”

“Fairpoint”

Why do I feel so strange? Where the hell am I? Maybe I should wake up, maybe the one with the southern accent could give me answers. I force myself to wake up and when I do everything seems so different. Everything seems so focused, enhanced, so…perfect. When has my vision ever been this good? I know I've been neglecting my glasses quite often but even with my glasses on I never had such good eyesight, I always thought I never needed them. I sit up slowly to check my surroundings. Crap! Where am I? What even happened to me? 

Flashback….

Just left my final class of the day, Anatomy is such a pain in the ass really. Why did I decide to take both Anatomy 1 and Genetics in the same semester? But I mean it's worth it, get the harder classes out of the way and then I can maybe squeeze in other classes I am interested in before graduating. I clinged my heavy textbooks to my chest tighter as I tiredly made my way to my small apartment. I got lucky that this place was cheap compared to living on campus, and the bonus to it is that my place is about 5 minutes away from campus. I heard the school bell ring signaling some class has ended, instantly I'm surrounded by a swarm of students like me. All of them either off to  their next class, or home, or even getting a late lunch. I was slightly pushed around until I managed to find an opening but not everything can go to plan. As I was trying to get to the opening someone shoved me a bit too hard and the books I was clutching flew out of my arms, I went along with them.

I heard a simple “My bad” and then I was met with silence. I hurriedly picked up my stuff and saw how people just looked but didn't help or offer a hand. Situations like this makes me want to just disappear. Just be able to get to point A to B without any mishaps. I composed myself mentally and continued my walk to my apartment. Considering it's only 5, it's already pitch black. I don't like walking alone at night, sure I’m a night owl, but I like to be alone in a safe space. As I'm walking I felt that weird feeling of being watched, it's like a sixth sense to me at this point, please tell me it's just my paranoia and not real. I do a quick scan and I'm met with no one but silence that makes an exception to the far off train horn. I hurried off trying to shake off that paranoia until I bumped into what I thought was a wall (ended up being a ‘human’)and then I was met with darkness.

Present…

I felt my eyes fill with tears but I soon noticed they would not fall, I tried blinking but nothing happened. I went to wipe my eyes with my hand instead but felt my hand move abnormally faster. Okay what the heck? I know I sometimes have my days where my reflexes kick in or not but I have never been able to move that fast. And as if on cue my throat felt so dry, I felt like I could drain the pacific and yet that would not be enough to satisfy the level of thirst I have. I tried swallowing but noticed that it didn't even help or even do anything.

“Carlisle should be here soon with something to subdue the thirst”

My gaze snaps to the man who is casually keeping guard at the door. The way he stood made me think he was maybe in the military or something. Why is he beautiful? His blonde locks styled perfectly and his eyes… Are they gold? I have never seen that type of eye color on someone before, I mean I have read a book where one of the characters had pirate gold eyes but in person that’s strange.

“Wh-wha- where am I?”

The way his gaze slowly met mine gave me the creeps, it was like from a scene of a horror movie, where if you spot something from a distance and then you blink, they are right in front of you, killing you.

“Carlisle will answer your questions”

“Why can't you?”

“I'm not in a position to be telling you stuff, all I'm here is to keep you calm since you are a newborn”

“A newborn?”

And then I was met with silence, he turned away from me so he was back to facing the wall like he was previously. 

“Could I at least get your name?”

“Jasper Whitlock, ma’am”

What feels like ages, another man walks in with a big guy. The first one seems like he is the one in charge around here, he seemed nice. He had a calm presence within, but the other guy seemed like he was ready to pick up a fight, probably the muscles around here. Now that I'm thinking about it more, am I in some sort of mafia? But these guys don't seem all that scary, maybe the big one and the Jasper guy. The calm one got closer to me and offered me a cup.

“Here drink this, it should help with the thirst”

I crabbed the cup hesitantly, hoping it wouldn't kill me, and drank it desperately. Finishing it in milliseconds, I did feel a small relief but I still had that feeling of an intense thirst. 

“We will give you more later but I think you deserve an explanation”

“You think”

He smiled gently but nodded “Well to start of you are not human anymore, you might of picked that up slightly since you have woken up”

Not human anymore? But what could I possibly be then? What have they done to me? Am I a monster now?

“You are now a newborn, a vampire to be exact”

That right there was the biggest mick drop of my life. What does he mean i'm a-a vampire? Those exist? I thought they were just myths, that they are just some made up thing that people build up over the years. But now I'm somehow one now? This shit can't be real, he probably has me on some drugs on something. Yeah that's right, probably drugged me and I'm trapped in some dream or something.

“I can see your in denial, there’s really no way to really explain it but you really are a vampire, that cup you drank from was filled with blood, deer blood to be exact”

Oh heck no. I drank blood? I never had a problem with blood, I mean I have a major in the medical field for a reason. Just can't get over vomiting, that's just a big phobia of mine, someone throws up and I'm literally about to faint. But enough of that.

“You gotta be joking here, vampires do not exist, there just myths”

“Well with all honesty here, I assure you I'm not joking, not with the times we are facing now”

“And what is that?”

“Well my family and I are in a bit of a dilemma, you see we have engaged another coven of vampires, and they are threatening to kill our family over a misunderstanding”

“Pardon my language, but what the fuck? What do you mean ‘another coven of vampires’ and a supposed death threat, there's more of you guys out there?”

The big guy chuckled slightly at my foul language and I heard him mumble a “Oh I like her, she’s way more funny than Bella”

“Yes well you see, our kind if basically spread out around the world, this other coven of vampires are living in Italy, but this coven is basically like our government, royalty you can say even, there more dangerous than us, they feed on human blood and they have gifts that can wipe out humanity in an instant”

Ok this other coven sounds scary, wipe out humanity? What the hell did this guy and his family do to anger them anyways, must be pretty serious.

“So let me guess this straight, you and your family have angered this powerful coven of vampires who can in your words wipe out humanity and…are doing what now?”

“Well we been gathering witness to help us avoid a fight with this coven”

“I see but what exactly did you do to anger this coven of powerful vampires then?”

“My son and his new wife had a baby”

“A baby? I'm sorry I don't see a problem here”

“Vampires cannot recreate, that's what I thought until my then human daughter-in-law got pregnant”

“Ok? Still not seeing a problem here”

“I guess an easier way to explain is as I said vampires cannot recreate, we are biologically not able to do such thing between two vampires, but between a vampire male and female human, it's possible but the problem here is the Volturi believe we have created an immortal child, which we didn't”

“I see so then why do they believe you created an immortal child? And also what is an immortal child?”

“An immortal child is a child what was turned into a vampire, there stuck as a child for eternity and cannot control their thirst or be calmed or even age, they are in modern terminology are illegal, and to answer the other question, apparently hybrids are not common and they did not know about them existing”

 The more he answers my questions, the more I think I am definitely dreaming, no way in hell is all of this real. Why am I even being roped into this? I was just some human who was just trying to be a Physician and now that dream is out the window because I'm apparently a vampire now. I need to wake up, this cannot be my life right now, I have so much to live for still. Sure I was quiet and not in some relationship but I still liked the life I had. 

“Now the real question here is, why or how am I even part of this?”

They were all quiet instantly and none of them were making eye contact with me. Ok weird… I mean even the big guys amused look was gone and that guy answering my questions with a small smile was also gone. Something here does not feel right. Someone burst into the room, which freaked me out a bit because this guy along with his buddy looked intimidating with all their leather and the intense red eyes. I felt a weird current roll down my body and then I heard gasps. The Jasper dude looked at me with wide eyes, well everyone was looking at me with the same wide eyes. 

“She’s gone!”

“No I don't think so Emmett, she’s gifted”

“What are the odds of finding one that is gifted”

“Not very likely”

Why are they all talking about me as if I wasn't there?

“Um i'm right here”

The ‘nice’ one spoke up first “Well it seems you have a gift miss, your invisible currently”

“Seriously?” I looked down and as he said I am indeed invisible. Maybe that weird current I felt earlier was me triggering this. Should I tell him this?

“How were you able to do that?”

“I don't know, I um felt a weird feeling run through me after those two over there came in”

“Vladimir and Stefan triggered it? Hmm it seems it came from fear then, interesting”

So those are their names, I wonder who is who. My wild guess is the platinum blonde is Vladimir and the dark haired one is Stefan. 

As if he knew I was talking about him, the platinum started to speak “So you were desperate enough for witnesses that you created a newborn? That’s low even for you Carlisle. At least she’s gifted but even then she probably has no combat skills so she won't be able to tear heads off if the time comes”

Ok y/n, let's think about becoming visible, I don't like how they're just staring at me like that, and also speaking smack about me either. Smoke started to surround me for a minute and when I looked at my hands to see I was now visible. Again I heard the gasp. 

“How did you do that?”

“I was just thinking about wanting to be visible”

“Well that’s good to know how your gift works”

“I guess”

Carlisle, it took him like thirty minutes to tell me his name, started to explain the situation more and even introduced me to the other members of his family. Jasper along with his friend taught me some basic combat skills in case a fight broke out with the confrontation. But the weird thing I discovered was when I met the infamous son, Edward, I was able to read his mind when he was reading mine, he gave me a funky look each time and tried to reduce his thoughts as much as he could. 

Funny enough but also traumatizing, he was always thinking about his honeymoon with his wife. I do not need to know how his child was conceived. When I met Alice a similar thing happened, she spaced out (which I found out she does when she has a vision) and I saw me with another figure, a man to be exact. The man in the vision was gorgeous, I never knew such a person could exist, he looked like a greek god. I think I might have another gift but I'm not sure I should tell Carlisle, there's just something off about why he won't tell me about how I became a vampire or what happened to me that night. 

—-------------------------------

Today is the day of the confrontation. Just last night I found out about vampires and now I might face death himself. And just today I found out werewolves or shifters exist, is everything in the books true then? I can feel my chest curl into itself and I feel myself internally hyperventilating. Can vampires do that? Well if they can that is exactly what is happening to me. I was placed between Vladimir and Stefan because apparently I should blend in and be more in the background then in front with the others. The Cullens think if the Volturi find out about me they might face a punishment of some sort.

But these two vampires are freaking me out slightly, they had an eye on me constantly, as if I were some criminal or something. With the confrontation I am fighting the urge to just disappear, I don't want part in this. It's not like I could be of help anyways, I can't really turn invisible on command, it just happens and turning visible doesn't always work when I want it to. The other gift I have, I still have no idea how it works or what it is exactly. 

Everyone is standing on guard waiting for the Volturi to arrive. I think the longer we wait the longer I feel my anxiety rise. I saw Vladimir move slightly, I followed his gaze to see a whole army of cloaked figures, they all moved in sync and let a smaller group move forward, those are definitely the kings with their guards. When they all stopped walking, they removed their cloaks and my eyes widened in shock. Why are they all really good looking? The big guy looks even more scary than Emmett, he’s basically towering over everyone. The other two I see are what I can assume are twins, they look alike except for the girl having blonde hair and the guy having brown hair. I heard the others say they are the most dangerous ones. I look at the kings, the only one who looks like he would kill everyone is the blonde one, he seems like the anger issues type of guy- err vampire. 

It seems I forgot to analyze another guard, he was slightly out of my view but how can anyone ignore his presence. I think this was the guy from Alice vision, in person he's more gorgeous. His lovely blonde hair styled to look like spikes, how his face is so symmetrical, he was indeed handcrafted by the gods.

I saw his gaze shift to meet mine, and oh dear gosh, a strong feeling overcame me. I don't even know what this feeling is, it's like an invisible string is trying to pull me toward him. I want to give in but I'm scared of what this is and I'm also scared that I might die right here. His focus was on me the whole time as the others spoke, there was even a point where he turned to the bored looking vampire to ask something which concluded with a nod from him. 

I don't even know what to center my fear right now, the fear from what is happening or the fear of this strange feeling I have with the breathtaking vampire. My attention on him was paused as I saw the blonde twin try to do something but that Bella girl used her shield, the blonde girl even looked at me but something odd happened. She clutched herself as if she was in agonizing pain and fell to her knees, my eyes widened slightly as her twin brother was at her side trying to somewhat resolve her pain.

Even the other Volturi members were shocked, the same twin boy turned his gaze to us and the anger that reflected his eyes was the most terrifying thing to witness. Out of his pure instincts he released a black smoke that also came out of my hands. I started to panic and the witnesses around me were also panicking, a bunch of them hissed for me to stop but I didn't know how or what was even happening.

A loud stop from the Volturi's side made everything go back to normal, the smoke was gone, the girl who was in pain stopped clutching herself and the boy's face was back to its resting form. Even the smoke I somehow had coming out of my hands had vanished. The king in the middle was the one who shouted stop from what I can tell.

“And who is this? She seems to have a very similar ability to one of my guards”

Carlisle who still had a confused looked form the earlier actions done by me “She’s part of Vladimir’s and Stefan’s coven”

The way the two vampires looked at Carlisle at the mention of their name would have left him buried six feet under. I could tell whatever plan the doctor had in mind was not planned. I mean even I was not aware of the plan to start off with, I was just told to stay quiet in the back and not turn invisible until they commanded me to. Vladimir not wanting to be thrown under the bridge or face any death just like me didn't let his voice be unheard 

“Still low of you Carlisle, he’s lying to you”

The look on the vampire king's face can be best described as if someone stabbed him in the back.

“Oh? Please do tell”

“She’s a newborn that Carlisle himself turned just recently”

“Oh my, bring her forward now”

I looked around the witness who was just staring at me as if I grew a second head. Carlisle gave me a look to go to them, so I walked toward the other coven, twiddling my fingers to try to calm my nerves down. So this is it then? This is how I die? As I got closer the elegant vampire kept his gaze on me, it almost looked like he was forcing himself to not go to me, like he was chained down. When I was a good ten feet away from them the tall muscular vampire one grabbed me. He had a strong hold on me, if I were human, painful bruises would indeed be forming at that instant. Again that handsome vampire looked like he was about to go to me but he stood his ground. The raven one came to me closer to introduce himself

“Hello dear, what is your name?”

“Y/n”

“Now do you mind offering me your hand?”

“My hand?”

He looked a bit impatient but smiled, a creepy smile but smiled nevertheless. “Well you see I have gift of being able to look at every thought and memory with just a touch”

“Oh, I see”

I offered my hand and was instantly reliving my every thought and memory as he said but as for my incidents with Edward, Alice, and the twins I could see his every thought and memory. I saw that he wanted Alice to be part of his coven, he was thinking of just forgiving the Cullens, I even saw memories of the handsome guard who I found out his name is Demetri. It just rolls out so naturally, it's as if I was born to say his name. Aro let go of my hand after a while with a bewildered look

“Interessante, I’m sorry for the troubles you been through, but it appears you have two gifts–”

Before he could continue, the sad looking vampire rested a hand on Aro’s shoulder and he turned to him to grab his hand like he did with me. With this case when I looked at the emotionless vampire I was able to see a red string that was connecting me and Demetri. It was the richests of red I have ever seen, come to think about it, it looks like his eyes. When he let go, Aro made one of the creepiest laughs I have ever heard to humankind, straight from a horror film. 

“It appears our own Demetri has found his mate”

If I could I would shiver at the mention of Demetri’s name. The mentioned name looked at the kings with anticipation, I mean I for sure wanted answers of what is going to happen.

“Felix you can let her go now, she’s no danger to us, on the contrary she’s going to join us”

I was let go by Felix “Join you? Why?”

“Well you see dear you are the mate to one of our guards, and we would hate for him to be miserable or lack on his missions if his mate is not kept safe, maybe with time you could join him in missions”

If I'm getting this straight, if I don't join then my ‘mate’, that’s a strong word to use, will be sad and won't be able to do his job correctly. Or I stay with the people who basically kidnapped me from the life I had, turned me into this bloodthirsty monster –currently I am still thirsty– and just threw me into a situation that I was nowhere prepared for. But again I don't even know Demetri, what if he’s cruel, what if he treats me like the Cullens? My thoughts started to spiral at a point where I was one with my mind and nothing around me existed anymore. If it weren't for the husky addicting voice I would have gone mental.

“Master? May I have a word with her?”

“Go ahead, she’s your mate after all”

I felt the warmth of his soft yet rough hands. I looked into his eyes and he gave me a small hesitant smile, oh I can get used to that. I need to see his real smile now.

“Hello cariño, I am Demetri, I am aware you know nothing about me neither do I about you, but I can promise you if you come with me and my coven, I will give you anything you want, give you a life humans can never come close to having, I will promise you an eternity of love and happiness”

So this is love? The way he speaks is straight from a romance novel. And the way his face glows makes it all more sincere and truthful, heck I just want to run away with him. I was about to say something to him when I heard them. The Cullens along with their witnesses whispering about me.

“A traitor”

“All that hard work to get her here for her just to abandon us”

“I knew there was something off about her”

“Carlisle do something”

“She can’t go”

“If she goes with them, then the Volturi have more power”

“She would be stupid to go with them”

“Indeed”

“She was a mistake”

I wanted to use that gift to disappear at that moment, I didn't ask to be placed in this situation to start off with. I was forced and manipulated. 

“You promise”

His hesitant smile turned genuine “I promise amore, forever and always”

Aro literally was beaming with anticipation for my decision, reminding me of a child waiting for the final decision of their parents to let them go to a sleepover at a friend's house. I nodded which caused Aro to clap with joy 

“Magnifico my dear” His attention turned to the vampires behind me “She will be coming with us, if you dare interfere, we will wipe you out without hesitation”

Ok that’s scary but I can tell he’s serious. I could see the blonde king with a proud smirk but Demetri pulled me into his side.

“Nobody will ever take you away from me from now on”

I gave him a weak smile as we walked off the snowy battleground. I didn't ask for this new life, but maybe it won't be so bad with him. 

[geekgirles]

Yugo's Audience with Armand: Moving Past Previous Mistakes

If you think about it, after his sacrifice and his reconciliation with Amalia, his audience with Yugo is the scene that best highlights Armand's character development throughout the season, dare I say, the show. With it, we finally come full circle.

We were first introduced to Armand as he refused to let Joris anywhere near his father, even at the behest of the King of Bonta.

Up until that point, all we knew about him was from Amalia and Eva's retellings, where he was painted as often arguing with his sister, being an extremely difficult person to deal with, and having bad breath. And then we finally meet him and...

Everything they said about him turned out to be nothing but the truth.

But we don't really see the full extent of it until Amalia and Evangelyne pleaded their case regarding Nox to him, when he stubbornly refused to believe his sister, instead assuming her imagination had just gone wild. He didn't even rethink his assessment even when Eva backed Amalia up, which would have still been harsh of him to do—to believe his sister's bodyguard over her just because he has a crush on her—, but it still would have made sense, as Eva is very level-headed and she never would have even entertained the thought of allowing Amalia to joke over something so serious.

That already established Armand as an arrogant and self-righteous prince who believes he is in the right just because of his position as heir apparent and older brother.

We must also keep in mind he actually had ample reason to believe Amalia about Nox's plans. While it's hard to tell the extent of his actions and the repercussions they had on the World of Twelve and his victims before the beginning of the show, the fact remains that Nox had been at large for 200 years. In that time, he probably ravaged countless villages and killed powerful creatures in order to drain their Wakfu. Surely, word must have at least got out about some mad Xelor going around and killing people!

In other words, it wasn't necessarily like Armand didn't have proof that Amalia was telling the truth. At the very least, he must have heard some rumours. And yet, that wasn't enough for him to believe his sister and act accordingly.

Not to mention, Amalia had run away yet came back to warn her people of the upcoming threat. Yet Armand still thought she was making stuff up. Who in their right mind would leave their home only to come back to put everyone on edge over a lie?

One thing is acting spoiled from time to time, and another very different thing is acting sociopathic!

Now, let's compare this to his audience with Yugo when he sought his permission to investigate Sadida ground.

During the time between season 2 and the OVAs, Armand seemed to have developed a deep-seated mistrust of the Eliatropes, most likely caused by Qilby's deceit, and it was only exacerbated when the Eliatrope Goddess introduced herself and made her intentions of controlling the World of Twelve in order to make it safe for her children clear.

It's also worth pointing out that not even Yugo was safe from his scorn, despite being a staunch ally to the Sheran Sharms, and saving his kingdom and the world in several occasions. This I attribute both to the fact that Amalia's feelings for him got in the way of marrying her off (thankfully, he seemed to move on from that mindset in season 4, though he still didn't necessarily approve of Yugo), and the fact that King Oakheart was always so welcoming and trusting of him. Knowing Armand, it really wouldn't be far-fetched to believe he was jealous of Yugo's own relationship with his father.

And yet, when the time came for Yugo to request his help and ask him to place his trust on him, Armand agreed.

This is especially telling of his character development because, unlike in Amalia's case, Armand did have ample reason to distrust the Eliatropes.

It's true, except for Qilby and arguably their goddess, the Eliatropes are a peaceful race, but the Twelvians' experiences with the former two at least justify their unease around them.

Both of them display an alarming lack of empathy towards anyone but themselves or their people. After all, Qilby is responsible for the genocide of the Eliatropes, and all because he was bored and searched stimulation elsewhere because of his divine gift. But at the same time, while he couldn't care less for the World of Twelve and planned to have Rushu and his subjects destroy it right before draining it dry of all Wakfu just to fuel the Zenit, he was equally adamant to have his family and the Eliatrope children with him as he travelled the Krosmoz.

The Eliatrope Goddess, on the other hand, might not have been as outwardly callous as her son, nor capable of even going through with her threats and putting the world leaders in their place, but she is equally uncaring towards anyone who isn't one of her children.

In fact, that was the very reason why she made an enemy out of the Twelvian leaders and they came to resent her presence. Because she chose to override their authority and keep them all under her watch (which, until she revealed herself, had the Twelvians terrorised). But the last nail on the coffin was when she revealed that all that, the Eliaculus, sending the Eliatrope guard to help whenever there was trouble, everything, was solely to ensure her children's safety.

Like mother, like son. Am I right?

Even without saying anything, she made it clear that she cared not for the Twelvians and that the Eliatropes were her priority. And that's without getting into her manic insistence they left the World of Twelve to rot the moment the Nécromes arrived.

Now, there's no denying that most leaders with any significant focus have been revealed to be jerks one way or another (looking at you, Queen Astra, Prince of Brakmar, and the entire Osamodas royal family), but they do have a right to be worried when Eliatrope didn't even bother to hide how, in her eyes, they're second class citizens compared to her own followers.

These first impressions really didn't give much reason for Armand to believe Yugo and to listen to his pleas. However, the most damning evidence of all had to be the fact that the Nécromes appeared with the arrival of the Eliatropes. Between the suspicious timing and the fact that the portal-making race had dealt with traitors before, it sounded very unlikely that both things wouldn't be connected.

And Armand knew this. He was perfectly aware of how suspicious everything was, and he didn't hesitate to let Yugo know. However, he also admitted, several times, in fact, that Yugo had been an ally to the Sadida Kingdom since the beginning. That if both his father and his sister never hesitated to put as much faith and trust in him as they did, then it would only be wise he chose to trust Yugo as well.

A clear contrast to how he refused to listen to Amalia, his own sister, back in season 1, and all because he believed to be always in the right.

Season 4 was Armand's chance to redeem himself in the eyes of the audience, to go from an arrogant, jealous prince to a mature and wise king and brother. And while there are things I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive him for, I do appreciate the character development he went through. As I said at the beginning of the analysis, this scene proves he's come full circle.

[hvnsools]

unknown artist (Simon Riley one shot)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x female reader

Summary: Simon goes to an art exhibition and finds a painting that catches his attention without knowing that the artist was next to him.

note: English isn't my first language but i have done my best, sorry for any mistakes.

★ masterlist here

Price had suggested doing new things, and although Simon liked to keep his normal routine, he couldn't say no. There was a temporary exhibition in town and he decided that would be the first activity to change his routine.

He knew absolutely nothing about art. When he was a teenager he had discovered that he didn't draw bad at all, but he had never made an effort to improve or had much interest in it. This didn't make him an expert either, but had enough judgment to recognize something he liked.

There weren't many people and he was grateful for that, he didn't like going out without his mask at all, after a while and the daily work, he had gotten completely used to it, but he couldn't go around the city covering his face as if were a fugitive, that would attract more attention than he would like, especially now that he was just in his free time, however, the hood of his sweatshirt helped a little, it didn't completely cover his face, but it helped a lot.

It took Simon about twenty minutes to realize something: most of the paintings were the same or followed a pattern that prevented him from finding too many differences between them. His eyes focused on the data that listed the names of the artists, only to realize that none of them were the same. So why did they all look the same?

Maybe it had been a bad idea. Maybe he didn't know anything about art and didn't have enough judgment to notice that something was different in all the paintings, because to him all looked the same. Maybe he had great works of art in front of him and couldn't even notice it.

That thought was erased the second he turned to look for the exit.

His eyes fell on one end of the room; there was one painting that barely stood out due to the lack of light in the space, but to Simon's eyes (who saw the rest of the paintings exactly the same) it was what stood out the most in the place.

He approached slowly to get a better look. There was no one around except for a girl who was also looking at the painting.

There were too many details that made him feel dizzy. It was a dark room, only illuminated by the light from outside, there was a crib at one end and a little girl crying on the floor, there were several broken things and a shadow stood out near the door of the room. His mind was trying to find some meaning, maybe something related to a bad childhood.

"Do you like it?" The girl next to him asked, breaking him out of his trance.

Simon blinked and turned to face her. She was shorter than him, so he had to look down. The girl had two braids, her glasses made her eyes look huge and she kept her hands behind her back, she looked like someone completely normal who was just trying to make conversation.

"I think it's the best painting here."

She smiled and nodded before returning her gaze to the painting.

"I think the author was trying to reflect what a bad childhood means; many problems start there. I know the person who painted this didn't exactly have a good childhood."

Something turned in his stomach, he understood that better than anyone, but he didn't want talk to a stranger about it.

"Do you know the author?" He asked, somewhat impressed.

"Yes, actually." She nodded and a small smile formed on her face, a smile of pride.

"Well, I think that person should know that this painting is the only one worth having in this place." Not even himself knew why he had said those words, but if he were the author, he would like to receive a compliment and know that someone appreciated his art. Maybe that girl could tell the autor.

"Would you pay for it?" she asked and for a few seconds she looked at him, but she didn't want to make too much eye contact, so quickly looked away from again.

"If she were a collector, without a doubt."

She nodded again and looked away once more. His words echoed in her head and she grimaced. He had been the first person to come to see the painting, she had been there all day.

"I have to go, but thank you." She gave him a smile and Simon inevitably returned it, although he didn't know why. A mirror reaction, perhaps.

The girl began to walk to the other side of the gallery and Simon's eyes examined the painting for a few seconds, until his mind was able to process the girl's words and realized that she had thanked him for something that he didn't know.

"Wait!" The girl stopped; she had barely moved two meters and Simon's thick voice bounced around the place. The stranger turned and looked at him. "Why do you thank me?"

"I am the artist." She smiled, although she wanted to giggle because he hadn't noticed it. "I'm (Y/N), by the way." It didn't take long for her to turn around to continue on her way and this time he didn't stop her.

His eyes returned to the painting, this time as if he were searching for something different.

He carefully examined every detail of the room, the broken things, the small details, until he noticed it. He looked at the girl in the painting, she had tears in her eyes and seemed to be hiding from something, and that face of hers became familiar to him.

She was the girl in the painting.

[leaawrites]

Could you please write a fic where the girl was best friends with the Gallaghers when she was younger but then moved away and ended up becoming friends with Damon. Fast forward to the award show where she’s Damon plus one and ultimately runs into the Gallagher again, where they’re all over her/happy to see her again/don’t want to leave her alone. But Damon really confused bc she’s never mentioned that she knew them and they’re all jealous over her. It could be a x reader for anybody but maybe have her end up with one of the brothers? Thank you!! Also sorry it’s a long request

idiots

Liam Gallagher x fem!reader

Summary: In which, they find back to each other and finally confess.

Warnings: fluff, angst, jealousy, harsh language

Wordcount: 1.8k

Masterlist

Slouching on the couch of one of her best friends, Y/n stares at the telly and the faces on them. Two people she used to know like the back of her hand, until she didn’t anymore.

Moving away from your home town was one of the worst scenarios for a teenager like her. She’d always been bad at making friends or becoming comfortable enough around other people to truly show them who she was, not just the pretty girl with not much to say.

When Damon met her the first time, backstage at one of their earlier gigs, he couldn’t believe the two different people he met that night. First he caught her eye from across the room, a shy smile playing on her lips as she crossed his gaze, before looking away rather quickly again. Then, after a few sentences spoken and hours passed, they stumbled out the bar together, his arm thrown over her shoulder as she tried guiding him home safely. They shared a kiss when stumbling into his apartment, though ultimately decided that they would never be more than friends.

He was still on her mind.

She never actively thought about him, except when he was on TV. It was more like an always lingering memory of their time that she couldn’t let go of even if she tried. He wouldn’t let her live in peace even after she left them.

“What ya staring at?” Damon asked, walking into the living room and flopping on the couch next to her. “Ya fancy one of those bellends?”

“Don’t go mental now,” she laughed, seeing his scrunched up face as Oasis performed their new song on Top Of The Pops.

It was good, she had to admit, Noel had always been a great writer. Though it wouldn’t be the same without him. Liam made it all seem so effortlessly. He made it look so cool. Even when it was playback and not live, she’d heard them perform live more than enough times to be a fair judge.

Sneaking away from Damon’s side at festivals or watching a show with them late at night while she tried not to wake one of the boys, she never forgot to keep her promise she made when she left.

‘I promise that I will watch everything you do, I’ll follow you still, Liam. Don’t worry about me forgetting you, I couldn’t.’

“What I wanted to ask,” Damon started talking away, tearing part of her attention from the screen, but not all. “There’s this award show coming up, nothing worth mentioning. Wanna come with me?”

“Me?” she asked, now fully turning towards the boy. “Why would you want me to accompany you to such thing?”

He shrugged, but she knew that he had an answer already ready for every single one of her question.

“All those other people there are boring. You’re the only fun one.” Pulling his puppy eyes and pouting his lips, she looked at him bored for a moment before ultimately giving in.

“Fine,” she agrees, making him gleam in joy. “But.” Holding her finger up at him. “If anyone starts some stupid dating rumour again, I’m never going anywhere with you again.”

Walking into the big venue, she spotted the pair she tried her hardest to avoid that night, almost immediately. Sitting at a table near their own, chattering and laughing and drinking. Shaking hands occasionally.

Through out the first half of the show, Y/n couldn’t keep her eyes away from him. From her seat, she had the best view on his profile. she could see his jaw tighten whenever someone won he didn’t want to win, or how the grip on his beer would loosen whenever someone won he wanted to, a small smile forming on his face whenever that happened. One forming on her own almost identically.

Liam could feel a pair of eyes burning in the back of his head, occasionally turning around to try and catch his predator. All he found though, was Damon Albarn staring at him with confused eyes.

He’d noticed his friend’s gaze far away from where it should be, somewhere in the crowd of people, focused on one in particular. Catching Liam Gallagher’s gaze, he was taken back to the night he asked her to accompany him. Being aware of the crush she formed on ‘the enemy’ he couldn’t help but not not take her.

The moment the first half was over and a break was called through the speakers installed in the walls, Damon excused himself, walking out and to the bar. Getting them a new drink, that they ‘couldn’t survive this without’. Laughing at his wording, Y/n let him walk away. Looking around the room, her eyes were drawn to his seat again.

Liam was watching Damon walk away, his gaze now finally free to see the man’s guest. Looking at the table, his eyes widen in shock. Hitting Noel’s arm repeatedly, he couldn’t keep his focus from lingering. His eyes still focused on her, though his mind was far away. It was back in Manchester, back with her. The two bodies of theirs laying close together as The Stone Roses played in the background of their silence.

‘I don’t want you to go.’ He would’ve never admitted back then what he knew already for years.

His heart skipped a beat when their eyes locked, their souls intertwining again after years left torn apart. Healing as he held her face in his mind.

“What?” Noel snapped annoyed. Turning to his little brother sharply and pushing his hand away from his arm.

Liam didn’t answer, only pointing in her direction. Noel’s eyes widen in shock now too.

“What ya doing here, love?” A voice boomed behind her, the familiarity of it seeping through her spine, making her sit up straighter.

“Liam,” she breathed out before turning towards him. The room watching the two of them. “Hey.”

Pulling her into a hug, he inhaled the scent on her hair and neck. It was richer now, but still the same summery feeling he only smelt around her. Noel came after, not leaving her a lot of space to breath.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted her, smiling brightly.

“Can’t believe you’ve stolen my date now, Gallagher.” Damon came walking back, two drinks in his hands.

Putting them down a smirk appeared on his face, making Liam’s blood boil up in anger. His fist clenching at the thought of them being here together. She had to know about the war they partaking in, why was she on his side now?

Y/n could sense the tension, as could Noel, who quickly led Liam away from the scene, saying they should go back before it gets to late and the lights would dim. Sitting down, they both still held their gaze, urging he other to look away first, but neither would dare to.

The lights dimmed again, though one brighter one appeared on the other side of the room. Liam walked out through one of the back doors. Noel sat with his head in his hands at their table, praying he hadn’t had to explain what just happened between them.

Looking at Damon, he told her to go after him. Silently creeping through the dark, she hoped for no cameras to catch her body escaping. Walking out into the lights and fresh air, she could breath for the first time in an hour. Outside the building, Liam was perched up against a wall with a cigarette hanging from his lips. Standing next to him, her arms crossed over her chest, they kept in silence. The only sound being the shuffling of Liam’s body as he took his jacket from his body and wrapped it around hers, without acknowledging her presence more than that.

“Saw you two on a front page a few weeks back, never thought I’d see you again. Even less with someone like him,” he broke the silence after a couple of minutes passing.

“Damon can be pretty nice if you get to know him better. He’s just cold at first, not like you’re any different,” she defended her friend, making him roll his eyes.

“How would you know? We couldn’t even talk when we met.”

“It took me four months to get you to even look at me. You were just always ignoring me.” They both laughed at the memories ans endless stories their mothers used to share about the two of them.

“Wasn’t even doing it on purpose, love.” Raising her eyebrows at him, he reconsidered. “You were just too pretty to look at,” he tried once more. Tilting her head, the smirk on his face disappeared. “In my defence, you were pretty violent in your attempts to get my attention. Seemed pretty desperate too.”

Gaping at him with her mouth wide open, she slapped in his arm, making him wince a little in fake hurt. “I wasn’t desperate. Though you seemed kinda intimidated once I could talk earlier than you, big mouth. Seemed to be a sign of God, that you would only talk bullshit anyway, so he threatened giving you a vocabulary.”

“Would it still be bullshit if I said, that seeing you together made me jealous?”

The words hung in the air between them, the confession lingering a little longer on both their racing hearts.

“Yes,” she answered, making his face drop. He was so sure that there was more to them than friendship, now it seemed that he even destroyed that. “Utter bullshit,” she continued talking. Continued stabbing a sword into his already breaking heart. “Because there was never a reason for you to be jealous.”

Crushing the cigarette beneath his shoes, he was ready to hear the last words he expected her to mutter to him. Letting him suffer in silence out of embarrassment and shame instead of screaming it at him with laughter. ‘We were always just friends, why would you be jealous? You’re still my best friend.’

“Liam,” she whispered, seeing the distant look in his eyes. “Can you please look at me?”

Snapping his eyes up to her, they looked almost angry with something. The soft blue now a storming sea.

“What?” He spat at her.

“I’ve always loved you, I just wanted you to know that.”

It couldn’t be true, could it? Laughing it off quietly, he nodded his head in mockery. “Yeah, sure. A great friend I am.”

“Not just in a friendly way.”

His heart stopped in his chest at her words, sinking down his chest and into his stomach, making him feel sick. The weight of it pulling him down, his shoulders falling into his body.

“What?” he quietly asked, not believing her words. It was all in his imagination, right?

Sacking her body, she couldn’t believe him. Typical Liam, she though. Smiling at him sweetly, her eyes sparkling under the street lights before pulling him in by his collar and connecting their lips. They had kissed before, but this was different. This one was real. His hands on her waist gripping tight to make her stay so close to him forever. He wouldn’t ever let go of her again.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: A New World {6}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Last race before summer break begins. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, team friction, bad language, fluff WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven

Belgium Grand Prix Doctor Turner didn’t know where to look. She had started off looking at you but once Charles started to speak her attention was turned and then Lando chimed in too. Her poor neck was straining with flitting back and forth between the three of you sitting across from her desk.

“I think it is the stress,” Lando said as he squeezed your hand.

“I think it is the medication,” Charles countered, a familiar argument brewing. “Things started to change after she started taking it.”

Dr Turner hummed as she made her notes and prompted him for more as he fell silent. “Changes such as?”

You zoned out of the conversation. The whole appointment was a result of the family meeting they had called and the information was nothing new to you. You were moody, you were tired, you were hungry. Charles had been the one to suggest it was the hormones from the contraception. He had even gone so far as to unfold the very, very large sheet of side effect information hidden in the box. 

“-and her weight.”

“Thanks, Charles. Love you too,” you muttered.

“Not like that, chérie,” he said as he turned to face you, cupping your cheek gently. “You are beautiful and I love your body, but you are training a lot harder with Kristian to maintain your race weight and you didn’t have to do that before.”

That much was true. The team had even stopped putting sandbags in the car for testing since the car was no longer underweight. You had thought your fireproofs had shrunk in the wash when you pulled them on in Hungary last weekend and the sleeves had cut into your wrists. There’s skintight and then there’s skintight.

​​”Those were all possibilities we discussed at the time,” Dr Turner said with a nod. “They are quite common with hormonal contraceptives so you likely wouldn’t find any change with the alternative options like the injection or the rods.”

“See, told you this was pointless. I just have to deal with it.”

“Or you could stop taking them,” Lando suggested. 

“Given the choice…you want to go back to condoms?”

“As much as we enjoy the benefits, it’s not worth it if this is the cost,” Charles answered for the both of them. “Just stop taking the pills for a while and see how you feel.”

You sighed with defeat but you accepted the plan with a nod. “At least I’m stressed enough that there’ll still be no periods. Yay for me.”

Lando snorted a laugh at your sarcasm but Charles didn’t find the humour as he shook his head and thanked Dr Turner for fitting us into her busy schedule. It wasn’t as busy as yours since you needed to get to Côte d'Azur Airport to catch a ride with Max to Belgium, you and half the grid apparently.

“Well that was a waste of time, and now we need to go shopping for condoms,” you muttered as you left her office and got in your car. “Do you think Costco sells them in bulk boxes?”

“I am not buying cheap Kirkland branded condoms,” Lando said with a cringe. “Fuck that.”

“You also said you would never do dry July but here we are,” you pointed out.

“Except for that one night after Silverstone,” Charles added as he started the car.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m not risking anything less than Durex. I’d rather trust myself to pull out.”

You looked at Charles in the rearview mirror before you both broke out in a fit of laughter as you shook your heads at the idea. 

Lando was offended.

“Hey,” he called as he turned in his seat to look at you. “I could pull out if I wanted to.”

“You’re lucky you’re handsome, because you can’t lie to save your life.”

“We both know how it is when you hit that sweet spot, mon cher,” Charles said as he reached across the gearbox and rested his hand on Lando’s thigh. “It’s too good to resist staying buried in her.”

“I said I could if I wanted to, not that I would or want to.”

By the time you arrived at the airport, and hustled your way through security, you found Max, Daniel and Pierre already seated on the plane and pointed to other empty seats. “Are you expecting the rest of the grid or what?”

“At the rate you're collecting them, maybe,” Max joked. 

You laughed and dropped into the seat opposite your brother, kicking your feet up on his armrest. “You can’t say shit like that in front of Pierre, he gets far too excited. He might even wet your carpet.”

Pierre looked up from his phone and you could tell from the smile on his face that he had been busy texting Kika before he realised what you had said and his lips pouted. “You make me sound like a puppy.”

“Nawww, I wish you had that level of obedience, Gasly.” Your feet were roughly shoved off the seat and you narrowed your eyes at the culprit as the plane began to taxi to the runway. 

“Safety first, zusje, haven’t you read the pamphlet?”

“Why would I do that?” you scoffed as you buckled the belt in. Charles was doing the same where he sat across from Pierre and Lando was next to Daniel. “If something happens at 36,000 feet, bracing isn’t going to save me. Now, are there any stroopwafels on board this thing or do I have to wait another two hours? I'm starving.”

“The last two races have seen a big drop in performance for both you and Lance, and only a few points added to the tally, and now - failing to finish the sprint with that crash. Is this something the team is looking into?”

You wanted to ask if the Sky Sports reporter had a brain cell but took a steadying breath instead and nodded. “Mhmm.”

“So what is Aston Martin doing to get back up where you were competing earlier in the season and what are your hopes for the race tomorrow starting 9th on the grid?”

“We are doing what is always done: look at the data, continue the upgrades, and keep pushing. Same goes for the race, I’ll try my hardest to make up some places and avoid the gravel. I’m usually good at getting off the start line, the car is great for short acceleration so if I see a gap I’ll be going for it. Plus, you know how turn one goes - that might make my job easier if the boys up ahead get greedy.”

“Speaking of boys, this time last year you were heading into the summer break looking for love. What’s the plan this year?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll take Max’s advice and adopt a couple of cats this time.” You laughed as Lando and Charles turned to you from their spots in the media pen. “Is that a yes…no…maybe? Oh, that’s their ‘we will talk about this later’ face. I’m going to go now before I get into trouble.”

The smile you had been holding onto fell away as you stepped into the Aston Martin hospitality building and you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before you navigated your way to your room. You almost made it there with no interactions, until your fellow driver caught up and clipped your shoulder as he passed by to his room.

Still annoyed at the reporter, you dropped your hand from the doorknob and turned to him. “What’s your problem?”

“You almost had points and you threw them away. That’s what.”

“I spun out, Lance,” you sighed, already exhausted with where the conversation was heading. “It’s wet and it’s Spa, it's easy to have an accident. It’s not like I saw you up there earning any of them.”

“It’s not my seat that’s on the line though,” he stated. 

“Is that a threat?”

“No, it’s just the truth.” His lips curved into the pretentious smile you hadn’t noticed when you joined the team, but it had become irksome to see grow over time. “My seat is secure.”

“If that were true you wouldn’t be wasting your time hassling me over whatever issue you’ve made up in your head.” You enjoyed watching that smile fade. 

“I don’t have an issue with you.”

“Then you feel threatened by me,” you said with a casual shrug. “It’s basic biology, animals attack when they feel in danger.”

“You should do something about that big ego of yours.”

“It’s big like my dick,” you said as you turned the door handle and shoved it open, “so choke on it.”

“Bitch.”

You gasped theatrically as you paused in the doorway. “Lance Strulovitch, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Did I offend you?” 

Your laugh started as a tickle in your throat before your lips peeled back and bared your teeth at him. “Sticks and stones, baby, I kind of like it.”

Realising he wasn't going to get the reaction he wanted from you, he shook his head and stepped away. “You’re all kinds of messed up.”

“Thanks for the assessment, Freud.” You slammed the door shut before he could give a response and screamed as you threw your bottle at the body that suddenly appeared. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Nope, just me,” Max chuckled as he rose from the chair that had been hidden by the door. “Nice to see you get along with your team mate too.”

“Oh that, that was just a friendly sparring match. Nothing to worry about.”

“I did warn you, zusje.”

“Yeah, yeah, you love to say I told you so,” you drawled as you grabbed your drink bottle from the floor and cracked it open. “Anyway, what are you doing, hiding in here acting like the godfather?”

“Our mothers have been conspiring again,” he said with a fond smile. “Family dinner tomorrow night after the race.”

“Won’t you have a winner’s after party planned?”

“I don’t think my liver could handle another one so soon.”

“Serves you right,” you snickered as he opened the door. “Wait, can Pascale, Adam and Cisca come too?”

“I said family dinner, didn’t I? They’re pretty much your in-laws.” He pointed to your table and you followed his finger to see a box overflowing with stroopwafels. “Is that enough or should I get some more for the flight home?”

You grinned as you grabbed one and tore through the packaging, talking with a mouthful. “I thought I was walking?”

“With those manners, you should be.” He started to close the door but changed his mind and stepped back in to pull you into a hug. “I’m glad you didn’t hit the barriers, zusje. Drive safe tomorrow.”

You nodded against his shoulder as you hugged him back.

It was only two days earlier that you ran the track with Pierre in memory of his friend, Anthione, and only five weeks before that another driver had lost his life on the track too. You hadn’t been thinking about that when you spun out, it wasn’t like it was anything close to what Lando did two years ago. 

But your brother would always worry about you.

“You too, Maxy.”

Fifth was the best you could do in the end but for once you weren’t weighed down by the result.

You sat beside Max, sipping from a glass of lemonade that should have been a gin and tonic, and smiled at the story he animatedly recalled from the race. On your other side was Charles, his dimples deepening as Max praised him for the perfect overtake he had made on Lewis to clench third place. Beside him, Lando was grinning proudly and draped his arm over Charles’ shoulder, his fingertips teasing your collarbone.

Your parents lined the other side of the table and you scanned their faces while they were engrossed with the story, not as accustomed to Maxsplaining as you and the other drivers were. No one would have ever thought that the parents of a Red Bull, a McLaren, a Ferrari and an Aston Martin driver would all come together and support them all equally. But there they were. One big happy family.

Click here for the next part.