#my shoulder radiates pain every time i breathe

[ghostzzy]

i sincerely do not want to be high all day today, with high pressure work shit happening it seems like a bad idea, but like. i can barely think straight with this much pain anyway so if i’m worried about job performance it may be a wash.

[littlest-w01f]

Bloody

Sylus x Reader

SYLUS MASTERLIST

LADS MASTERLIST

Summary: Even after being told against it time after time, you took a hit meant for Sylus

Cw: Blood, injury, angst, little suggestive at the end

The fight was a blur to you, all you remembered was that you and Sylus had been attacking your own Wanderers, as you finished off the Wanderer in front of you, you rushed for Sylus when you saw another about to take a strike at Sylus while his back was facing the creature.

With a cry of desperation, you lunged towards Sylus, throwing yourself between him and the looming threat of the Wanderer's weapon. Your body took the brunt of the impact, the alien's weapon slicing into your chest with brutal efficiency, the cut cauterised on impact. The pain was excruciating, but you barely registered it.

As you lay there, the gash burning your chest, your clothes slowly burning in, your vision blurring, you felt Sylus' strong arms wrap around you, cradling your injured form. His face was etched with concern, his eyes searching yours desperately.

"Stupid, aboslutely dumb little kitten!" Sylus growled, right eye pulsing red, his body nearly shaking in anger as he rushed home with you in his arms, being careful not to hurt you further, "Why? Why the fuck would you do that!?"

"You... You were gonna get hurt..." You gasped out as he set you on his bed, surrounded by pillows. "You always protect me... So I thought..."

"You don't take my hits!" Sylus growled, his hands hurting to remove your clothes so they didn't stick to your burnt skin, his words were harsh, yet they were laced with a desperate fear. "I step in front of you because I heal faster than you can blink. I will always step in to protect you, but you don't have to do that! Have you gone mad!?"

Sylus' intense gaze bore into yours, his chest still heaving with agitation. The dim light filtering through the curtains cast long shadows across his chiselled features, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw and the furrowed brow above piercing crimson eyes. His broad shoulders seemed to tense even further beneath the leather jacket he hadn't removed yet. "If the blade was a little to the left YOU WOULD'VE BEEN DEAD!"

As he stepped back, giving you space, and himself too, his clenched fists hung at his sides, the knuckles white with restrained fury. The air around him crackled with barely contained rage, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, but you didn't flinch at how pissed he was, knowing he would never harm you.

Sylus paced back and forth across the room like a caged beast, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. The anger radiating off him was palpable, making the air feel charged with tension. Every so often, his gaze would flicker over to you lying on the bed, his expression softening just slightly before hardening once more.

"I won't let anyone hurt you," He muttered, his voice low and rough. "But that doesn't mean you get to throw yourself in front of danger like some kind of martyr, sweetie!"

As Sylus tried to calm his breathing as if trying to lessen the power pulsing in him, his mind raced with thoughts of how close he came to losing you. The memory of seeing that Wanderer's blade pierce your chest made his stomach churn with nausea even if he had destroyed it, he hoped he could've tortured it more. He couldn't bear the idea of living without you, of watching your life slip away before his very eyes.

He stopped pacing abruptly, turning to face you with a look of determination etched onto his features. With swift movements, he shed his jacket and kicked off his boots, revealing his toned physique clad only in a black fitted top and pants.

"Sylus…" You whispered weakly, trying to sit up but wincing at the pain in your chest. He quickly moved to support you, helping you recline against the pillows.

"Just relax, sweetie," He murmured, his fingers gently tracing along the wound, applying pressure to stem the bleeding. His eyes blazing with intensity. "Look at you, all pale and shaky. You could've died, and for what? To prove some stupid point about how much you love me? I know you love me, you were crazy for what you did."

Sylus ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, his chest heaving with agitation. He knelt beside you, brushing away a stray lock of hair that clung to your forehead, his touch gentle despite his rough exterior.

"Damn it, y/n," Sylus muttered, frustration clear in his voice, "I can't lose you. I can't stop seeing you... On the ground... I..."

"Don't worry," You whispered, the words barely audible even to your own ears, "I'm fine."

Sylus growled lowly at your weak reassurance, his red eyes flashing dangerously. "Fine?" He scoffed, his large hands hovering over your exposed torso, hesitating to cause you any more pain.

His breath hitched at the sight of your tattered flesh, Sylus scoffed, unclasping and slipping off his leather belt, "Now this is going to hurt for you, kitten." You automatically opened your mouth for him to put the leather between your teeth to bite onto, having gone through him using his Evol to heal you before. He held you down, hands holding down your shoulders, he focused on your gashing wound, red and black tendrils formed around your injury, energy humming, stitching your skin back up as you struggled in pain.

Your breath hitched as Sylus' Evol surged through you, the sensation of your flesh knitting together was excruciating. BItting onto his leather belt in pain, tears lining your eyes. For Sylus, he was used to healing, the pain was almost unrecognizable to him, but for you, it was torture.

Sylus kept his grip firm on your shoulders, anchoring you to the spot as he focused his energy on repairing your torn flesh. The sound of your pained whimpers and whines were like nails on a chalkboard, tearing at his heartstrings. He wanted nothing more than to take away your suffering, to make everything better.

As soon as the last tendril of energy dissipated, Sylus released his hold on your shoulders, allowing you to slump back against the pillows with a gasp of relief. His chest rose and fell rapidly, matching the frantic beat of his heart, yours slow, gaining speed back after you were healed, a faint line now replacing the gash.

"There," Sylus said, panting lightly. "It should heal nicely." Sylus' touch was tender, his fingers tracing along the newly healed skin, ensuring every stitch was done correctly, leaving no opening. His eyes never left your face, watching every flinch, every grimace that crossed your features.

Leaning in closer, Sylus pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, then to your eyes, making the tears fall, his lips brushing against your skin with a feather-light touch. "Never again," He spoke softly, his crimson eyes burning with an intensity that spoke volumes of his unwavering dedication to protecting you. "Never do that."

He was furious. Furious that you'd willingly taken a blow meant for him, furious that you'd endangered yourself for him, furious that he hadn't been quick enough to stop you, or protect you. Sylus's voice was low, almost a growl, "You're mine to protect, not the other way around, alright, my pretty kitten?"

A vulnerability, a hint of his underlying emotions that he tried so hard to keep hidden. He looked at you with an intensity that made your heart flutter. "You can't just throw yourself in harm's way like that, y/n," he said, his tone softer now, though no less firm.

You looked away from his burning eyes, still a little weak, "I just..."

"You just what?" Sylus demanded, his voice rising once more as he towered over you again, looming over you. "Couldn't bear the thought of me getting hurt? Thought you could play the hero?"

His words stung, but you refused to let him see how much they affected you. Instead, you met his gaze head-on, your own eyes blazing with determination. "I did what I had to do," You said firmly, your voice unwavering despite the pain still coursing through your body. "I won't apologize for not wanting to see you hurt."

For a moment, Sylus seemed taken aback by your defiance, his brows furrowing as he studied you intently. Then, with a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders sagging slightly. "You stubborn kitten," Sylus' nostrils flared, his chest heaving with each ragged breath. "You have no idea what you put me through," He muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "Seeing you lying there… It felt like my world was ending."

For a moment, his usual tough exterior crumbled, replaced by raw vulnerability. He took a step back, raking a hand through his hair, his crimson eyes filled with unshed tears.

"Oh, Sylus..." You whispered, voice a little shaky, reaching out to place a hand on his forearm, feeling the corded muscles beneath your touch, the other stroking his cheeks. "I'm ok... I'm ok because you healed me... I'm so much better already..."

Sylus sighed heavily, his gaze dropping to where your hand rested on his arm. For a moment, he remained silent, as if grappling with his own emotions. Then, with a resigned sigh, he pressed his face further into your now healed chest. "I can't lose you, y/n..."

As he nestled his face into your chest, you felt his warm breath ghost across your skin, each exhale a reminder of his closeness. He buried his face deeper, inhaling deeply, the scent of you filling his senses, pressing his ear against you to hear the beating of your heart.

"I don't know what I would do…" He murmured, his voice muffled against your breasts. After a moment, he pulled back, looking up at you with those intense crimson eyes. "But I swear, if you ever try to pull another stunt like that… I'll tie you to my damn bed forever."

"Mmm... Kinky..." You joke half-heartedly, stroking his silver hair.

A small, wry smile tugged at the corner of Sylus's lips at your teasing remark, though his eyes still held a serious glint. "Don't think that's funny, sweetie," He warned, his voice a low rumble. "I mean every word."

"You're such a handful, kitten," He grumbled, shaking his head slightly, yet his actions belied his words as he settled further into your embrace. "Always causing trouble, always testing my patience." Despite his stern warning, there was a playful spark in his eye that belied his earlier anger.

"I love you, Sylus..." You breathed softly, nails scratching his head gently.

Sylus groaned in pleasure above you from your antics, "I love you too, sweetie."

He leaned into your touch, letting himself be pampered by your gentle strokes, something about your touch soothing his agitated spirit, his hands reaching your hips, calming himself with the feeling of you as you did the same with him, hands tracing his back, grounding yourself.

[endlessthxxghts]

Use Me

No outbreak!Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈1.2k

Summary: You tell Joel he can use you in an unconventional way. Will he take you up on your offer?

Content/Warnings: No physical description of reader besides clothing. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Somnophilia. P in V sex (unprotected). Creampie. Finger fucking. Sweet aftercare. A moment of insecure Joel, but you comfort him.

A/N: Literally no motive behind this drabble besides the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about Joel (more than normal LOLL) in the past 24 hours. So, enjoy my delulus. Also… this Joel is one with no outbreak…but for this particular scenario, I’m picturing him physically as post-outbreak…do with that what you will.🥴🥴🥴

MASTERLIST

Joel’s coffee nearly spilled through his nose with how off guard your question caught him. “You want me to what?”

“Well, I’m not saying like every night or something, I’m just saying. If you ever wake up in the middle of the night, hard and wanting, you can…” your gaze breaks from his. “You can use me.��� 

Joel usually doesn’t have middle-of-the-night erections that wake him up and force him to take care of the issue immediately. However, with your suggestion being a lingering thought in the back of his mind all damn day, he finds himself, in the middle of the night, hard and wanting. 

Your usual sleep attire is a tiny shirt with no bottoms below, and tonight, lying on your stomach with your ass to the air, you’re looking particularly tempting with the way his cock pulses when his eyes meet your glistening cunt. 

“Always so fuckin’ ready for me, ain’t ya?” He groans to himself, debating whether or not he’s actually going to take you up on your offer. 

But just like the unintentional ironic little fox you are, you roll your hips and let out a little whimper as you go, your pussy on full display to him, even wetter than mere moments ago. 

He sits up on his haunches, walking on his knees to settle himself behind you. He brings his fingers to your slick entrance, running along the entire seam and to your clit. He circles it a few times. Your hips twitch in response, a breathy sigh leaving your throat. 

“Fuck,” he rasps. He removes his now wet fingers from your entrance to rub it all over his cock, pumping himself a few times before he scoots slightly closer to you and lines himself up. 

He runs the head of his cock through your slick this time. His tip catches on your clit and pulls another moan out of you. You’re stirring now, but you’re not completely awake yet. 

Unable to tease himself much longer, he grabs onto your hips and sinks into you in one sweet thrust, your warm, tight pussy pulling him faster to the finish line than he was anticipating. 

You let out a moaning gasp — you’re definitely awake now — followed by an already blissed out call of his name. “Oh, fuck,” you cry, your hands curling its grip into the bedsheets below. 

“Shit,” Joel moans, his hips fucking into you harder now but maintaining a steady pace. “This what you wanted, girl?” He grunts. “Wanted me to fuck this sweet pussy whenever I fuckin’ wanted?” 

“Ohmygod,” you rush out in a near yell, “yes, Joel, yes! Just like that, baby, fuck-”

“So fuckin’ good to me, sweet girl, ohhh fuck-” he moans, his hips faltering in its rhythm. His hand moves around your waist and to the front of you, the pads of his fingers finding your clit and circling it — just the right amount of pressure to get you to your finish line before him. 

You’re a babbling mess at this point — his name mixed with expletives the only vocabulary he’s reduced you down to. “‘M close,” you’re able to utter out. 

“Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. He bends his body over you, his lips near your ear as he damn near snarls, “Soak my fuckin’ cock, baby, let me feel you.” 

His ministrations on your clit don’t stop, but the desperations of his thrusts increase, harder with every pump. He bites down on your shoulder, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t finish before you, and the radiating pain and pleasure from the pressure sends you roaring to your climax — the room filled with nothing but the wet squelches of your slick and your high-pitched moans, loud enough to wake the neighbors. 

Your sweet sounds sends him into a frenzy, his eyes rolling back at the way he’s literally slipping in and out of you now. “Gonna cum, baby?” you whine at him, nearing overstimulation but truly not wanting him to stop. 

“So fuckin’ close, baby,” he tells you, he’s back up on his haunches, both his hands back at your waist, chasing his own impending orgasm. 

You muster up some strength and lift your ass up to meet his hips, your back arching like a cat in the sun. You give him some pushback, meeting his every thrust as you make it a point to squeeze him each time. 

“Atta girl, fuck-” he takes a shuddered breath, “‘M gonna fuckin’ cum, where do ya want it?” he grits out. 

“Inside!” you blurt out, all your inhibitions and logical thinking gone from your brain as he fucks you into oblivion. “Inside me, please, baby, please, love feeling you inside of me- love having you drip out of me just for you to stuff it back inside-” you’re cut off mid ramble with a gasp, you feel his cock pulse as his warm release paints your walls, a rugged groan from Joel filling the air. 

“Goddamn, baby,” Joel utters as he catches his breath, slipping out of you, but not going anywhere just yet. He watches your filled cunt, and in moments, his hot cum is leaking from your hole — his cock tries to jump at the sight of it. He takes his fingers, scoops up the residue, and pushes it back into your hole, fucking you slow with his fingers for a moment as your breathing picks back up, moans threatening to escape as your hips squirm against him. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he tells you. He helps flip you on your back, leaning down to kiss your tummy as he slips away for a few moments and returns with a warm cloth to clean you up. 

He’s gentle with it, thoroughly wiping the outer areas while patting the more sensitive areas clean. You still whimper at the feeling, more so because having him touch you down there sends butterflies fluttering all throughout your body. “I got ya, darlin’,” he soothes. 

“I know you do, baby,” you say as you reach your hand out for his face. He tosses the cloth into the hamper in the corner of the room as he leans into your hold. You pull him in for a sweet, lengthy kiss, your tongues tangling as Joel finds himself wrapped around you once more tonight. 

You’re dozing off again when you feel Joel’s voice vibrate your chest. “Say that again, baby?” you mumble sleepily. 

“Was this…was this okay?” he asks softly, sleep filling his voice but too much concern lacing it to allow himself to submit to his fatigue. 

You grab his face again, lifting your head to meet his lips. 

“It was perfect,” you smile at him. “Now go to bed, so I can wake you up in the morning.”

He gives you a smirk that heats your cheeks. “Goodnight, darlin’,” he mutters as his head rests on your chest again, dozing immediately.

My current brain capacity is telling me that I want to write, but I can't deal with really big storylines right now.. so. A bunch of stories on the shorter side it is - at least, for the time being🥰 I love you all, and thank you for the endless support. Also !!! Gif above is courtesy of @/nicolethered

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @axshadows @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future stories or would like to stop being tagged altogether! Xo

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[bowieandqueen11]

Exchanging Pleasantries / Cooper Howard Imagine

Request: Could you please do hurt/comfort with The Ghoul? Like, maybe you got hurt during a fight with Raiders and he's being mean while stitching you up. Thanks pookie bookie ily

Omg bb @itsyellow ily too I couldn't wait to write this!! Hit me with that hurt/comfort that's my jam son

Also did I make this full of unresolved sexual tension? Frick yeah I did

As always, if you enjoyed please drop a comment to help me out and let me know!

Warning: slightly NSFW/ making out, mentions of injury and violence, slight mention of a choking kink? and some strong language!

(I do not own Fallout or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @goodsirs.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

'Y'know, you may be one of the stupidest goddamn people left on this planet. And I've seen a hell of a lotta stupid people.'

You know better to think that the one and only Ghoul: the slinking shadow that steadily tails and entraps every inch of the starkly barren world he can reach, the infamous bounty feared in every town, from Philly to Rivet City, would be one for pleasantries. Yet, even during your brief period travelling with the man across the wake of the formerly 'glorious' West-coast America, his callousness often left you wishing for the sweet silence of a Nuclear Winter.

Even Cooper Howard himself recognises the fact that he doesn't exactly, well, radiate off anything that could be called close to a succouring nature. Hell, he would be happy to radiate off anything that wouldn't have you spending his valuable time making detours to wandering doctors holed up in blood-splattered tents to use his hard-earned money in bartering for caps off your next bottle of Rad-X. He supposes, as you had shaken the bottle in front of his frowning face and wandered back off into the crowning desert sun, that if he could work himself back up to being unenthused, he would be able to count it as his first win in over two hundred years.

'Well, if you tried to stop fighting every single person still left out here I wouldn't have to risk my ass stupidly running in to save you', you retort, gnashing your teeth and trying your best not to squirm against his chest as he rips a fragment of broken plate from the back of your shoulder.

It wasn't often that you were allowed to light a fire in the wilds of the Wasteland: far too many radroach nibble bites littered your legs, far too many gash-covered tentacles slashes from the repulsive Centaurs marked your outer arms. However, as the two of you had spent your seemingly so lovely afternoon out on the highway being ambushed by a group of bloodthirsty Raiders, you had browbeaten the Ghoul into allowing the two of you such a special treat. An empty bottle of Nuka Cola lies by your faded makeshift floor covering that acts as your mattress, and you sigh in relief as the warmth of the flames licks across your tired arms.

Your soon drawn out of your repose by the feel of The Ghoul's cowboy boots thumping against either side of your legs; he awkwardly tries to leave enough room that he's not straddling your back, but his legs won't quite dip down enough to be more than halfway off the floor.

It leaves him having to scrape himself forward until his groin is nearly pressed against your tailbone, and you can feel the hem of his hat brush up your neck as he idly surveys the extent of your injuries. As he fidgets the strap of your vest down past the joint of your shoulder, you have to breathe in sharply to stop yourself grunting at the sharp scratch of his glove's rough seams as he drags his hand down.

'You're right', he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, dragging a strip of musty cloth out of his satchel bag and pressing it against your oozing wound. 'Your ass really is fucking stupid if you think that you were helpin'.' You grimace as a flash of stimulation and mortification flashes through your body; whether the pain in your gut is from the flesh wounds or from the clutch of thick leather as the Ghoul tantalisingly rakes his fingers up the tender skin of your shoulder and grips, you're too distracted to try and find out.

Sweeping your eyes over the fire-brushed ground that cracked and and crumbled underneath your heel, you can understand his frustration at you. At the world. Scorch marks litter the dusty ground around your make-shift campsite, the plasma rifles and energy weapons the Fiends had managed to barter, steal, and smuggle out from the Van Graffs stock lying in blasted pieces around the fragments of rusted metal once shielding the long gone diesel pumps. The violence - the anger, it always seemed never ending. Gosh, what you wouldn't give for a canopy right now: to stop the sun burns from blistering your face, to hide the sudden hush of shame and embarrassment that rose flush up your face like a mushroom cloud.

'Yeah, well, I did come running- you're welcome, by the way-', you start, but the Ghoul, as venomous a man as he is, cuts short your reply by prodding the point of one of the needles holding the tail edge of his coat together into the hanging flaps of your skin. Your hand balls into a fist as you feel the sharp tip scrape over muscle; you try your best not to whimper as his poison slits through your veins and slithers down to corrode your very soul, but the relief. Oh, god, corruption has never felt so good as the Ghoul's free hand sliding down to cup your ribcage. His middle and ring finger took turns tapping against your waist, a slight huff coming from his mouth and tingling against the shell of your ear.

At first, you think the Ghoul is mad at you: pissed off that if any of the Raiders had survived and scampered off back to their chem-den to frenziedly retell their confrontation with a certain duster-clad gunslinger, a certain ruthless reputation - a certain long upheld persona, would be tarnished. That he was aggravated in having to waste his dwindling supply of bullets in wasting the spiky-hair fiend that had sprung out from the door of the thought abandoned Red Rocket Truck Stop just as you were busy body slamming his friend to the ground. That he was embittered at the fact that you had the incredibly anserine idea to stop off in the middle of goddamn nowhere: somewhere straight off your Pip-Boy map to nestle down for the night on your route to the New Vegas strip.

Enraged, indeed, by the fact that he may have to admit that he wanted to save your life.

'You call that running?', he puffs out a chuckle, unceremoniously wiping the blood of the needle by using the back of your vest. 'I call that leaping up yonder head over ass across that Nuka-Cola machine.' He lets go of your side, much to your disappoint, and looks at you disapprovingly as you turn around to face him. He's waving the syringe edge of a stimpak in your general direction, and you make sure to slap his hand extra hard as you grab it off him.

'You know, cowboy, you were the one that asked me to tag along. Not the other way round', you groan in exhilaration as you stab the needle into the knife wound on your thigh, and that first hit of the Stimpak courses through your muscle. Cooper has to clench his fingers into the leather of his fist to stop himself from going feral right there and then. He sniffs loudly, scrunching up his nose and casting his gaze to the fireside to try and hide his displeasure.

'Well', he manages to choke out between clenched teeth, gripping onto his own leg so harshly he wonders if he's drawn blood between his claws, 'you are such delightful company.'

For the first time in his life, Cooper Howard wants to just... ride away from his problems. That's all you were supposed to be: a solution. A resource. Another object to exploit, to foist upon his own callous needs so that he may survive another day in this merciless hell pit. A life for a hundred and fifty vials felt like a mighty fair trade in the disintegrating shit-show of post-apocalyptic commerce.

It had been easier that way, luring you away from the only small shack left among the rubble of the underground Subway Station that the Fiends hadn't left splattered with blotted rivers of crimson and half-mangled body parts. It had been so much simpler, as he had shoved the still fresh bodies of the murderers and cannibals off the side of the Metro escalator, that he was here to save you. That he had no knowledge of the bounty held over your head by the Enclave, or of the reasons that you had become so... acquainted with the New California Republic during your month long travels for the Crimson Caravan Company. As the door had groaned open, he was left pointing his pistol in your face: a towering penumbra, larger than life, that seemed to swallow every inch of swinging lamplight around your doorway in a veiled sinfulness. He had found it so much easier, as he peered down at your gloomy face and smirked as the unmistakable sound of a Ripper reared closer to his head, that he was here to be your saviour.

That's right. As he had offered you protection: a safe route away, a constant presence, your second shadow on your journey back to the Strip for only a measly few caps, he had found it so much easier to pretend that this wasn't personal. That the way you shook his hand hadn't made his skin prickle, hadn't been the first thing his nerves had alighted at since the last fading memory he had of caressing his wife. That the way you had strapped your leather armour pauldron around your left shoulder, and pulled up the hem of your trouser leg to strap a hidden knife to your calf didn't have him unconsciously dragging his tongue along the cracks of his bottom lip, and left him staring in bemusement. The incredulousness that had his eyes glazing over and the bottom of his stomach clenching as the two of you pried open the doors back up to the surface, and he had nonchalantly inquired as to who had... disposed of the Fiends before his arrival here. You had just shrugged, throwing a smirk at him from behind your shoulder, and he couldn't help but feel his own mouth twitch up to mirror your reaction.

It had been so, so much easier to pretend that you were just another bounty. That you were the first person, since he had lost Janey in another life, that had made him feel something other than contempt. Or worse, nihility. Nothingness. Just a hodgepodge script of fabricated and fictional lines that he reeled off as if it were more than just second-nature; an amalgamation of everything hollow and horrid that he had spent so much of his long-lost life trying desperately to bury.

But Cooper knew better than anyone, that nothing, and no one, could stay buried forever.

And with every returned smile: every lingering brush of some Caravan Trader's fingers on your arm as they tried to sell you some over-priced snake oil, every repulsive simper of a NCR trooper as they tried to buy you a bottle of vodka during your rare stops at some remote barrack, had the rot he had constructed within his soul become that little bit more mutilating.

The silence between you is deafening. And so you do something really stupid: you decide to ask him about his dirt-stained outfit.

'So', you drawl, turning yourself around so your legs are crossed out by your side, doing your best to stay firmly seated between the tensing muscles of the Ghoul's thick thighs. He draws his spurs in a line across the sand, but to your astonishment, and wild delight, he doesn't pull his legs open any further. 'Did you rob a real cowboy or something? I didn't think they were real. The only ones we ever saw were those rugged, way too contrived looking ones on those old movies.'

Your fingers curl over the edges of his collar, tentatively letting your fingers drop to rest against the sharp gap against his breastbone.

A muscle in Cooper's jaw jumps.

Oh. Oh. You'd never seen him actually angry before, behind all that cowboy western shooter charade.

For a moment, you're worried you've offended him somehow; a faraway look seems to draw him into the pale billows that smoke up from the orange flames, and a look that you've never seen before- never could even contemplate drooping the face of the suddenly so haggard looking man sitting by your side flitted across his scrunching face.

Forlorn. He looked so forlorn.

Neither of you are sure if he's even conscious of his arm moving, snaking itself across the small of your back to clutch almost painfully against the meat of your hip. His thumb strokes against the outline of your bone: probing, testing, clawing and pinching as if he had repeated the action over and over and over again in his mind.

'This? This is as old as the dirt and the worms.'

He doesn't react, doesn't move the frozen stone of his stoic face when you hesitantly grip onto his fingers, and slowly... god, so slowly, pull his glove off and drop it on the ground. Suddenly feeling so exhausted, your droop your head down against the dried sweat on your neck and watch yourself place your hand gingerly over his own, holding him in a wary vice against your side.

'What... what's a worm', you tentatively ask, your eyes wide open in worry that your question might break the provisionary affinity of this moment.

Cooper actually... snorts, a smirk threatening to break across his face as he looks out of the corner of his eye at you. 'An 'ol creature that used to live under the soil.' His eyes burn a hole into your irises, and he finally cracks out in a sallow grin as he contemplates the fact that he has your whole, enraptured attention. 'In fact, almost a whole lot like you.'

You smack his shoulder, but he only tilts his head back with an inquisitive gloat on his lips. He tips his head down, moving his other free hand to grab and squeeze the other side of your waist, making you woefully buck back against the bottom button of his shirt as the pit of your bottom begins to thrum with a devastating heat.

'Now', you can hear the teasing in his voice as he dips his spine down to hover over the shell of your ear. 'The real question is, where in the sweet hell would you have seen such heinous films such as those?'

His hand crawls like sweet spiderwebs across to your bellybutton, taking your breath away as he cups his palm against your skin and carts you back till your resting against the side of his chin, entangling you against the last vestige of the man he's entombed within the Stygian shadows.

'My ma used to show them to me and my brother if we had been extra good. She spent a whole three months saving up whatever metal scraps she could scavenge to go trade over at the General Store in Goodsprings and buy ourselves a real life television. The picture was blurry as shit, and we only had one holotape that I swear I ended up being able to quote back to front by the time I was sick of watching it. But hell, if we didn't crowd around the floor in wonder and dream about being a mysterious, rifle swinging stranger that roamed around the wastes saving people.'

Cooper purses his lips, swallowing thickly as he lassos your words in a whirlwind around his mind. After what seems like an eternity of listening to the soft whistle blow through the cartilage of his nose, of noting the quiet scurry of Bark Scorpions barbing through the pale tufts of faraway brushes, and the sound of your own heart hammering against your ribcage, each hit cracking your ribcage open with a sledgehammer, Cooper grumbles a reply.

'Y'know, there's an old saying back where I'm from - one that those folks in those movies you... respected use' to say. Feo, fuerte y formal. It means you're ugly, strong, and dignified. And shit, I can say for sure that you've got ugly ticked off that list.'

'You cheeky shit-', you start, but you can't help but shove your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from laughing. With a jolt forward over your stomach, you wince at the pain that flashes through your body at your only recently closed wounds. The Ghoul snarkily utters a tut tut, making you actually fucking whimper aloud this time when his hands grab your love handles, lifts you up, and slaps you down atop his lap. A faint slip from the curve of your buttocks sliding down to settle against his inner thigh has him hissing against the back of your head.

Even though there was no chance of it ever occurring, the Ghoul loosely clenched his fingers around your throat and tilted your head back until your throat went dry, as if daring you to move away from him again.

'Ain't your fault darlin'', he twangs out in that hoarse voice of his, his tongue flicking as smooth as molasses against the shell of your ear: his pointed edge darting a sticky trail up to your inner ear. 'It ain't your fault that you look like a molerat.'

You snort, and Cooper finds himself smiling at the sound of a noise he hasn't heard since his daughter was... since his daughter was...

'You remind me of someone I used to know, you know that? She was... she was far too sweet. Far too good for all this shit too.'

'Aha, there he is.' You wrestle out of his grasp and turn your head disbelievingly. The Ghoul looks almost taken aback, before he draws back into himself and fixes himself to stare you down. 'Finally making an appearance after all this time, are we? Good to see I'm finally getting through to you.'

'Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?', he bares his teeth, gnashing them together almost instinctively.

'I mean, I think that was as close to an honest exchange with the man inside you I'm ever going to have.'

That makes him start.

Pensively, he watches you, assessing and appraising the quirks and emotions that wander across your face as he waits for you to finish your accusation.

'And unless you stop sticking your blaster in the face of every creature that walks and talks, probably your last as well.'

The Ghoul swallows thickly, doing his best to seem as straight laced as usual, but growing more and more discourteous in his manner by the almost sinful way he's darting your eyes down to your lips and allowing them to hover there. 'Now darlin', I'm only exchanging pleasantries.'

'Is that really what you'd call yourself? And here I thought it was cantankerous.'

'Considering the literal crap-hole you grew up in I'm surprised you even know that word, now.'

'The sewers are empty, Cowboy - I'd say there's more piss on you from Dogmeat than down there. Besides, I lived in a Subway Station... asshole', you spit out at your feet, hitting the fragmented remains of one of your assailants helmet spikes.

A jab pokes at your inner thigh; the clenched thumb of the Ghoul branding into your skin as he finally looks you dead in the eyes with a cold stare. 'And there you are.'

And yet there's something. There's something lingering there, in the dark. In the swirl of his irises. In the only part of his body that still remains fully intact. Fully him. Something valorous. A convolution of steadfastness and pride. An imploringness.

'Suppose...', you inhale sharply, not realising that the two of you have managed to claw and scrape and crawl inch by inch closer to each other during your... showdown. 'Suppose', you buck your knees forward until you have enough leverage to haunch yourself up and turn, using the exertion to swivel yourself round and straddle the Ghoul's legs. Your gaze dips down to watch the purse of his strangled lips, his head slowly raising itself to unmask itself from the murk. 'That we aren't so different after all.'

Before you have time to regret your words, the stout pressure of clashing thumbs and fingers have jerked against your chin and pulled you down to smash against Cooper's mouth. Gnashing teeth pull at your bottom lip without a moment's warning, slicing down to draw blood. Cooper pulls back to snarl, before diving back in and licking away the thin trail of blood driplets that dribble down your chin dimple with the flat edge of his impoverished tongue.

Your chest rises and falls in quick succession as the man leaning his weight eagerly against your stomach ravishes you, growling as he reaches down to pull at the bottom of your thighs, and raise your knees up so he can cup your ass and knead the sweet flesh.

Part of you wants to rip his clothes off him right there and then, part of the recesses of your mind worries about the impending danger of the Wastelands: a roaming gang of looters, the unlucky shimmer that forewarns the arrival of a Nightstalker, but all of you wants to slam your hands around the side of this man's face and knock him straight to the ground with the ferocity of your kiss.

Before you can even make it past the squishing his cheeks phase, you’re distracted from your plan by the pressure point of his fingers teasingly prodding against the outline of your inseam. You can't enact your plan - you can't, not when you can feel the tip of his finger run slowly... slowly... god! So agonisingly slowly up your inner thigh. Can feel the warm, almost ruinating nibble of his top teeth against the pulse point of your neck, before he leaves an apologetic slide of his inner lip against it: something bright and burning and beautiful making the nerves of his body scream as it gnaws away at their rot.

Perhaps, perhaps there was still time for the Ghoul to exhume the mouldering remains of Cooper Howard after all.

[sollis-occasum]

you think i'm gone 'cause i left - anakin skywalker/darth vader x fem!jedi!reader (part 2 of 3)

a/n: you can read it as a stand-alone ♡

summary: when a ghost born from his past regrets returns to haunt him, darth vader has no choice but to confront it.

warnings: angst, no use of y/n, blood, mentions of death, mentions of torture, mentions of sex (no smut), reader is manipulating darth vader (but in a girlboss way), darth vader and darth sidious are their own warnings, no proofread, my english is the biggest warning.

word count: 2k

part 1

Darth Vader, who made the galaxy tremble with fear just by the idea of ​​his existence, had subdued leaders who were said to never bow down, destroyed kingdoms that were said to never be destroyed, and made even the proudest warriors beg for mercy. Ironically, the only person who could bring this Sith Lord, who struck fear into every beating heart, to his knees was the ghost of a woman whose heart had stopped years ago.

Was his master manipulating his thoughts to create an illusion of you in order to punish his failures? Or were you the reflection of a ghost trapped in this world because the parts of his soul that belonged to Anakin Skywalker were not ready to let you go?

Darth Vader had no answers to these questions. If there was one thing he knew, it was that you were haunting him and that you would not let go until his heart, which had become a mass that did nothing but pump blood, was numb and torn apart with pain and regret.

Your presence wasn't always this disturbing to be honest, at first he was taking a pleasure in seeing you that he couldn't even admit to himself. You were looking at him with a magnificent light in your eyes that even the greatest massacres and most brutal executions you had ever witnessed couldn't extinguish, you were smiling at him affectionately as if the man in front of you wasn't a war criminal but the little boy you entrusted your lightsaber to. Sometimes he felt a shiver as if you were running your hands over his armored shoulders, and this sweet feeling that covered his entire body reminded him of the times you spent together. Perhaps it was  your presence mixed with the air he breathed that prevented Darth Vader from taking complete control...

However, with each passing day in the empire of fear he and his master had established; with every innocent person he ruthlessly killed, with every enemy he tortured with disregard for their honor in the hope of getting information about his plans, the mask that had become the symbol of brutality was sticking more to the face underneath and his new identity was taking over him

While his burnt, torn body was trapped in an armor, the only thing that gave him a sense of freedom  was his memories of you. But they began to fade one by one, leaving nothing but the memory of your bloody body being dragged by a clone soldier. Your first meeting at the temple, the first time he held you in his arms at the weapons factory that had become a battlefield, the exchange of your lightsabers, the first mission you officially went on together, the first moment he realized he liked you, the first kiss you shared, the first night you spent together... All of them were so distant now.

Maybe that was why your ghost had also slowly begun to change. Your reflection no longer radiated the noble glow it had when you first appeared; your image was more colorless, paler. The sweet feeling he felt when you appeared had been replaced by a pain like an ice burn. You weren't even smiling. A disgusted expression that you only reserved for the most vicious criminals in the galaxy appeared on your face. Especially those eyes... Darth Vader had never seen even his greatest enemy look at him with such devastating hatred.

"You killed me," you said with great anger. "You are responsible for my death!"

Darth Vader had tried everything not to witness those words that had been echoing in his mind for years coming out of your lips. He had told you to leave, tried to ignore you, used the force to disperse your reflection... But you weren't leaving! No matter what he did, he couldn't get rid of you. Finally, he was about to ask his master for help, even if it meant enduring his punishment for being weak, when you asked a question he couldn't leave unanswered.

"Where's my lightsaber, Anakin?"

You were in the throne room of his fortress on Mustafar. Darth Vader was thinking deeply, leaning his arm on the edge of his throne and leaning his helmet on his hands, when he heard your hysterical voice. He reached for his lightsaber as a reflex, but he also knew that the only enemy who could stand against his saber, which was red as if referring to the blood he had shed, was you.

"Anakin... A name I haven't heard in a long time," he said with his robotic voice hiding his emotions. But he also knew that he couldn't hide his feelings from you. You knew his deepest desires and fears. You might have been living in different bodies, but you two were the same person.

You smiled mockingly as if he was a buffoon instead of a commander who had the galaxy wrapped around his finger. "You didn't think I would call you by that funny name your master gave you, did you? Please don't take offense, but you have the stupidest name out of all the Sith Lords."

"How dare you!?" he roared, raising his hand into the air and trying to throw you to the other side of the room with the help of the force, but nothing happened. You continued to stand tall. Apparently, even the force couldn't harm those who didn't belong in the world of the living.

"Do you really think you can get rid of me like that? It's surprising that a ruthless Lord like you can have such naive ideas."

Although you emphasized the word ruthless, an expression appeared on your face as if the anger of the man in front of you amused you.

"What are you and what do you want from me?"

You slowly shrugged your shoulders and started to wander around the throne room. Sometimes you would delicately run your fingers over the objects in the room and sometimes you would go behind the throne and watch the hellish view of Mustafar. There was a silence that Darth Vader, even the most fearless man in the universe, did not dare to break. Finally, you answered the question in a low voice, "Only you can know the answer." Obviously, the answer you gave was not satisfactory for you either.

"I could be your guilt or your regret. Maybe I am your remorse that you cannot silence. Who knows?"

"Nonsense." Darth Vader snapped. "I have no regrets about the past. Such feelings are only excuses for those who are weak enough to succumb to them."

"You may not have it, but Anakin Skywalker does. Maybe that's why you can't defeat him. The remnants of him you can't destroy are suffering, right? Even if you block your ears, you can hear his screams. The more you try to suppress him, the more he finds ways to survive. Look, his pain has created me: the only enemy you can't defeat."

"Shut up! You're not real!"

In a sudden move, he took his lightsaber and tried to separate your head from your body, but your reflection only waved for a few seconds.

"That's what I meant when I said the only enemy you can't defeat." You said with an exasperated tone and rolled your eyes. "Anyway, you've asked enough questions. Now answer my question. Where's my lightsaber?"

"Obi-Wan took it." he said with great passion. His hands clenched involuntarily as he said his former master's name. Even his robotic voice couldn't hide his hatred.

"Ah, I see. So you couldn't protect it. What a shame, it really was a beautiful lightsaber."

You slowly walked towards the throne and sat on the armrest. You tried to keep a sad expression, but it was obvious that the commander’s failures were amusing you. You began to gently run your hands over his shoulders. Even the touch of your abstract presence was enough to soothe him. You could feel him relax under his armor.

“I didn’t think you would give up the only thing I had left so easily.”

“We made a deal. First I saved your life, then you saved mine. After you paid your debt to me, I had no reason to protect the lightsaber.”

"So you're saying that our only bond was some stupid pact we made when we were kids? That the lies we told our masters just so we could spend time together, the kisses we shared, the nights we spent together meant nothing? Don't expect me to believe that, Anakin. If I were truly that worthless to you, you wouldn't have built this fortress on Mustafar as a monument to your failures, you wouldn't have found every clone trooper there that day and tortured them all to death, and most importantly, you wouldn't have sold your soul to your new master in order to save me."

Without waiting for him to respond, you removed your hands from his shoulders and gripped his chin tightly. Technically, you had no power over him, and your fingers had even passed through his mask, but Darth Vader had surrendered to you so much that he lifted his head slightly, just as you wished he would.

"Do you know what I'm actually thinking? Maybe your desire to be Palpatine's toy has nothing to do with me, Skywalker. You turned to the dark side to save me, didn't you? Nonsense! You were just looking for a new master, that's all."

These were words that were too degrading and humiliating for a Sith Lord like him, who was used to being feared and obeyed. He rose from his throne in a sudden movement and held his hands out to you. He knew that he could not harm you, but for the first time, he felt that his anger was harming him, not powering him. He had to do something to get rid of you! However, his desperate efforts to catch you were only making you laugh.

You sat down comfortably on the throne that was vacated by him and crossed your legs with confidence. Your hands were gripping the throne on either side as if you were its rightful owner.

"Look, you can't even sit on the throne, Anakin," you said. "How pathetic."

"The men your master has given you, or that stupid word added to your new name, mean nothing. No matter how much you deny it, you are nothing but a slave. When you were a child, you belonged to Watto, now you belong to Sidious."

Darth Vader clenched his hands into fists and held them up to his face, "I rule the galaxy," he shouted at you. But his voice was weaker, more insecure. You continued, enjoying the pleasure of hitting him in his most sensitive spot.

"No, your master rules the galaxy. You are merely one of his insignificant, dispensable puppets. You have no free will, you still have the soul of a slave. You need others to control you in order to survive. In the past, you needed Obi-Wan and my approval, now you look to your master for help. Because you destroyed everyone who ever cared for you for nothing, and no one else has accepted the monster your sins have created."

"Why are you punishing me like this?"

You had finally done it! The most powerful man in the galaxy, that magnificent figure who bowed to no one but his master, was now kneeling in front of you, his hands on his helmet as if to silence the thoughts in his mind. He was trying to stop Anakin Skywalker, whom he thought he had killed years ago, from taking control with the strength he got from your screams, but he couldn't.

"I am not punishing you, Ani. You are doing this to yourself. Do you want to get rid of me? Then go and avenge me. Make your crimes have meaning. You know who your enemy is."

tags: @circe143 @snowtargaryen @etheriaaly @ariskywlkr @tellybearryyyy @anisgurll

[whiskeyskin]

Easy

Premise: During their first night together, Astarion muses how disgustingly easy this seduction will be.. right? Right..? 👀😬

• Astarion x f!Tav • M rating •

Astarion!POV, dissociation, mutual handjobs, bloodplay, improper use of tadpoles, confused erections, guilt, loathing.

I'm unable to find the person responsible for this heartbreaking picture of our boy, please tag if you recognise it as yours 💜 Gatta credit the Artists!

•°•°•

This is almost too easy, Astarion thought to himself as he leaned in to kiss her.

His mind had automatically retreated into himself the moment he scented her presence, reversed into the well practised charade he'd played for tens of decades.

She was the perfect prey.

She was a bleeding heart. A filthy do-gooder. Thank the gods she couldn't see him rolling his eyes every time she stopped for a stranger.

Well, apart from when she'd stopped for him..

He picked her up and felt himself press her against the tree, continuing to kiss her. She wrapped her arms and thighs around him and squeezed him tightly, running her hands along his shoulders and the sides of his neck. He flinched when she grazed the marks from Cazador's bite but passed it off as a gasp from his desire.

He had to admit; she wasn't all bad but he couldn't be sure of her dedication to him and his cause. Not without devotion beyond a shadow of a doubt. He had to woo her, far beyond what he'd ever done before.

He had to be clever about this. Seduction was a sprint, whatever this was would be a marathon.

Tav smiled and traced her teeth over her bottom lip. She was very beautiful. It was less of a chore when they were attractive.

Her eyes were flitting over his face, Astarion kept his flirtatious smile ever present.

"Would you like to feed on me when we have sex? I assume you've never done that before?" She offered with a suggestive tilt of her head, exposing just enough of the taut flesh of her neck.

A jolt of something he didn't quite recognise zapped through his body like a Witch bolt and Astarion's flawless smile faultered. His flaccid cock twitched and began to ache, rapidly growing.

His body tensed at the reaction. This never happened. He could count on one hand how many times he'd naturally gotten hard - as natural as it was for a dead man to get hard, of course.

The surprise on his face must have been abundantly apparent, as Tav smiled brightly with a cheeky glint.

"I assume that's a yes, then?" She chuckled, her eyes dipping down between them to his rigid member, beginning to roll her hips against him, her wet folds lightly teased his swollen member as she undulated.

Astarion chest felt tight and his eyes rolled back unexpectedly at the delicious feeling.

Suddenly, he found himself falling backwards, as Tav pushed herself off the tree.

Now in ordinary circumstances, he would have been able to save himself and them and soften the blow. However, seeing as 1, he wasn't expecting to be falling and 2, was suddenly filled with a need he'd not experiened in quite some time; they both fell unceremoniously to the floor, reeling from the impact.

"Ahh, my fucking knees!" She cried, laughing and hissing in pain.

"Your knees? What about my back? You just threw us on the floor, you idiot!" He spat at them, a dull throb radiating.

Tav started to laugh, "I'm sorry! I thought it would be sexy. Ow, myfuckingknees." She covered her mouth, still chuckling and sat straight upwards, her warmth settling on top of his confused erection.

"Are you okay?" She giggled, placing her fingertips gently on where his heart was.. where it used to beat.

If he had breath to hitch, it would have.

"I'm alright." He shrugged off, "it's lucky the ground's soft around here." He swallowed, "Are you alright?" He asked, realising he should show concern.

"I'm fine. Just wasn't expecting smashed knees and tree branches up my arse is all." She smirked in faux pain.

Astarion let out a loud and unexpected "Ha!" at the comment and gave her a genuine smile.

"Just to preface, I wasn't expecting anything up my arse tonight. You don't get those goods out the gate, Mr. Vampire. No matter how pretty you are." She said plainly, with a hint of amusement.

"Spawn. Get it right, or don't get it at all." He countered.

"Ooh, I do apologise, Mister Vampire Spawn Saer. I prostrate before thee, how could seek thy forgiveness?" She flourished her hand in a mock bow.

He gripped her quickly, and flipped her with new found vigor. She gasped and giggled as they rolled.

Now encased below, he crawled up the length of her body, "Well, I can think of one way." He lilted playfully, as he braced his hands by her head.

She smiled again, relaxing into the position, before offering her neck to him.

For the second time that night a jolt of something he didn't quite understand coarsed through him, it settled low and hungry in his belly. His cock swelling back to size, laying like a snake wait on her soft stomach.

He couldn't figure it out. Figure her out. This wasn't how it normally went.

His usual feelings of disgust and loathing would sit in his throat, like bile. Would grip his haunches and made him recoil, make him feel like he was the lowest creature on the face of Faerûn.

Despicable. Foul. Vile.

But this new feeling, this desire, this.. need? Was completely foreign to him.

Tav pulled him from his thoughts with her gentle touch, which he flinched from unconsciously.

"Hey, you alright?" Concerned furrowed her brow as she gazed up at him, moon and starlight reflected in her gaze.

His veneer slide back into place, "Of course darling, just thinking of all the ways I can make you cum." He reached between them to pinch a nipple, she gasped, to which he silenced with a deep kiss.

It wasn't his fault. This is what he had to do. What he was good at. What he'd spent so many years doing. Perfecting. But this would be beyond that.

He needed to her to fall so deeply in love with him that she'd never betray him. That she'd die for him, sacrifice herself for him, so that he might survive Cazador's impending attempt to drag him back.

To do that he had to: seduce her, sleep with her numerous time, make her orgasm so hard she wouldn't be able to move. He'd have to use his most advanced moves to assure this mission's success.

He would manipulate her so convincingly, that she would willingly fight a Vampire Lord to protect him. That was a tall order. Depending on how long he had to work on her.

He made people fall in love with him in an evening. This shouldn't be that much harder. He'd have to-

"Bite me, Astarion." Tav breathed against his mouth, and his mind stilled.

It was like he'd walked into a solid brick wall. Something hot and eager flushed him.

He came back to his body with two fingers stuffed inside her tight cunt, her warm juices spilling on to his hand and his cock limply hanging between his legs.

Clearly he'd been busy while he'd stepped away from the reigns.

Her words echoed through him like a gong reverberated through a temple.

He pulled his lips back and bared his fangs to her, tightened every muscle in his body.

He knew how delicious she was, how rich and delectable she was. And now he knew how emotions flavoured the blood; her anticipation and nervousness the first time, the relaxation of the following times, the fear of the bandits he'd drained to death on the battlefield. All of them tasted different.

Gods, what would arousal taste like.. desire.. orgasm..

"You're a shit Vampire, Astarion, honestly. Oh, Vampire Spawn. Let's not forget semantics." She teased, biting her lip.

"Well, you're a-" He had nothing. He had blood on the brain, and his cock apparently wanted cunt.

Her muscles clenched down on his digits as she laughed, "Good one, Star."

"Oh, shut up." He snarked with a grin, that she replied with, as he finally pierced her skin and tasted her decatent blood.

She hissed and clenched around his fingers again, as he removed his teeth from the puncture points to release her blood.

It filled his mouth, rushing out of her in spurts. He drank deeply, tasting her excitement. It tasted citrusy, bright and sharp on the tongue, then it changed to deep berries, rich and warm. Her delicious blood coated his throat and nourished his body, as he swallowed her down.

He began pumping his dexterous fingers inside her again, his thumb flitting over her clit. She gasped again and brought her hands to grasp his neck and shoulder.

She moaned and twitched under him, "Ah, ah-starion. That feels.. ngh.. don't stop."

He hummed and shook his head in agreement against her neck. There wasn't a chance he was stopping. There wasn't a chance he could.

This felt fucking amazing. Tasted like pure heaven.

He was painfully hard. The blood he was draining from her filling his cock with sensations.. divine, eye-rolling sensations.

Limitless freedom, hedonistic pleasure. A heady high that had him groaning against her skin.

She writhed her hand between them, towards his thick member. It would be awkward but gods he needed her to touch him.

He'd never needed anyone's touch more than hers at this precise moment.

He pushed his hips up higher wantonly, to allow her more room. She grasped his cock within her grip and immediately started pumping.

He broke the seal of his lips against her flesh, gasping and panting. The cool air of the night a stark contrast to the warmth of her blood dripping down his chin.

"Oh gods, Astarion." She keened beneath him, digging her nails into the muscle of his bicep with the other hand.

He gasped against the overwhelming bombardment of sensation assailing him; the taste of her blood, the smell of arousal, the burn of desire, the delicious friction of her hand.

It was wrong, wasn't it? Feeling good during sex? It wasn't supposed to feel this way. It wasn't meant to be enjoyable. It never had been before..

But gods it was now. It was almost too much.

His hand moved of it's own accord, practised for years in the art of autopilot; finessing between curling his digits stuffed inside her tight pussy and his thumb fluttering over her clit. And thank that gods, because he was not present. For an entirely different reason this time.

He whimpered, mouth agape, thinking blood coating his tongue. He was in a state of total and unexpected euphoria. Nothing mattered except remaining forever, in this moment, in this clearing.

Feather light touches brushed against his mind, seeking connection.

Astarion flinched at the intrusion, "What are you.. doing?" His mind's voice irritated and desperate.

"Going to cum.. soon. Collective ecstasy.. remember?" She replied, her's tense and full of revelry.

Astarion swallowed, latent blood flavouring his tongue. His face tensed, unsure.

He looked down at her face. Gods, she was close. The throes of pleasure evident on her beautiful face, bathed in the moonlight. It hit low in his belly, tightening his testicles.

It would be fun to use these parasites for something as debauched as this.

Those tentacled freaks wouldn't expect that, would they?

He allowed her to enter his mind, just a little. Only to be blown backwards by the rush of orgasmic energy that blazed towards him like a Thunderwave.

The storm that was roiling inside her, the building crescendo, the sheer desperation to cum. It paralysed him. It tangled within him. It wrapped itself around his cock, his hips and thighs. It painfully pinched at his nipples. It delectably nibbled at his ears.

"Gods above!" He spluttered, knocked completely off his guard.

His own orgasm rushed to meet her at the precipice, his body straining at the surge of endorphins.

"I can.. hold on.." she muttered, weakly. He clasped his hand to hers, above her head, on the forest floor.

He could almost see her, stood at the edge of a great ravine that dropped into nothingness. She reached her hand for him. His fingertips touched hers.

Their hands entwined on the edge of the swirling void. She let out a deep exhale and willingly fell backwards into the abyss, and he was unable to - refused to - fight it.

"No.. cum.. cum.. with me.." No later than he'd uttered the last word, he felt her walls clench around him.

Free fall..

Silence..

Peace..

And for the first time in over 200 years, he actually looked into the eyes of the person with him. Her reverent gaze pierced through his sorry façade, his pain and his suffering.

It was like time had slowed.

He saw her in two realities. This one; where he loomed over her, fingers in her cunt and her hand wrapped round his cock. And the other; the leap of faith, the never-ending galaxy around them, their hands grasped so tightly.

Her pupils flashed and dilated, her face flushed and strained, as she came on his fingers.

Hers hit a moment before his. The bow string released, a spell's magic unleashed.. the storm overcame them both.

"Astarion." She whispered, smiling in absolute, unbridled euphoria.

She looked deep into his eyes, and never strayed her gaze, as her orgasm lashed through her.

Looking into her eyes, with a roar that died in his throat, hot, thick ropes of cum spurted from his pale, undead cock. It shot up her gorgeous, soft body and coated her fingers.

He felt her cunt flood with her juices, staining his palm, as she called out his name like a song.

She bucked and writhed, face contorted in ecstasy. His own pleasure causing him to thrust and jerk, veins in his neck tense and popping from the sheer force.

He collapsed on top of her, utterly spent.

There they lay in stunned, post-orgasmic bliss for what seemed effortless hours, when it fact only moments had passed. The muscles in his legs twitched, as he came down from the high. His hearing returned to him, after the thumping of her rushing blood slowed inside him. Her hard breathing softened to laboured exhales. His eyes growing heavier as Reverie beckoned.

Still collapsed on top of her, she stroked her thumb across his shoulder.

"I would call that collective ecstasy." She whispered with smile against the sweat sodden hair stuck to his temple.

He huffed out an exhausted laugh, and she pressed a kiss, to which he reciprocated in his delirium.

"I would call that a miracle." He mused, lifting himself up and peeling his chest from theirs.

He cast his eyes down on the sacrilege between them. His cum glistened in splotched patches up their stomachs and chests, where he'd collapsed after orgasm.

"Oops." He said, without a morsel of regret.

"Eh, comes with the territory." She shrugged, waving their hand and muttering the somantics for Prestidigitation.

Astarion let out a groan and rolled off her, to the ground. He was utterly spent. It had been a very long time since sex had tired him this way. Well, it hadn't even been sex.

Tav rolled onto his chest, laying her head down and letting out a big sigh.

"That was interesting, huh? Using the tadpole's connection?" There was a tease of intrigue in her voice.

"I can imagine that's not what the Illithids had in mind when they implanted us with them." He said, flippantly amused, bringing his arms to hold them.

There was a pause.

"Were you there with me? On the edge of that terrifying expanse?" Their tone was cautious but curious.

Astarion's brows shot up his face, "You saw it too?"

"I thought it was my imagination but I felt you, felt your hand holding mine," she moved her fingers to finesse his hand into the correct position to hold hands like before, "I had to know if it was real."

A twang of guilt ricocheted through his chest.

There it was. That old familiar feeling.

"Of course it was, darling." His voice was thankfully more convincing than his expression.

She smiled against his skin, pressed a kiss and let out another contented sigh, as she settled back into his embrace.

Despicable. Foul. Vile. The lowest creature on the face of Faerûn.

He sighed through his nose, his body tense with undeniable self-hatred.

Yes, this would be easy.

•°•°•

D'ya like reading smut and sweetness? I've got a Masterlist 👀🤫

[velvetdesir3s]

Override: Roman Godfrey x Reader

Summary: After a shopping spree, reader encounters her magnetic but unsettling ex, Roman Godfrey, whose limo ride reignites old tensions and unresolved feelings.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, coercive behavior, mature themes and strong language.

Author’s note: Tried something new with this one, hope you enjoy! :)

After a long day of shopping, I trudged down the quiet streets of Hemlock Grove, my arms weighed down by bags full of clothes and shoes. The setting sun casted long shadows across the pavement, and the cool evening air was a welcome relief from the day’s heat. Still, an unsettling sensation lingered—like I was being watched. Every time I glanced over my shoulder, the empty sidewalks and occasional passing car did little to ease my growing discomfort. A sense of dread began to gnaw at me, as though something dark was lurking just out of sight.

Then, breaking the silence, a sleek black limo glided to a stop beside me. The back window rolled down to reveal Roman Godfrey, my ex-boyfriend. His impossibly charming smile radiated from within the car, but something in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine. His gaze was intense, as if he could see right through my defenses.

"Need a ride?" he asked, his voice smooth, with a teasing lilt that sent an unsettling twist through my stomach.

I tightened my grip on the shopping bags, trying to suppress the flood of memories his presence stirred. Nights spent in his arms, feeling safe and cherished, were now tainted by the darker moments—when his charm turned icy, and his touch left me questioning my sanity. “No, thanks,” I said, forcing my gaze forward. I wouldn’t let myself be drawn in again. The pain of his departure had been unbearable, and I knew I couldn’t survive it a second time.

“Oh, come on. Those bags look heavy. Let me help,” he said, leaning casually on the window ledge. His tone was playful, but there was an undercurrent of insistence that made it clear he wasn’t asking.

I knew Roman well enough to recognize this was a power play. He wouldn’t give up until I gave him the attention he craved. I turned to face him, struggling to keep my voice steady despite the rush of unease and anticipation building inside me. “What do you want, Roman?”

His smile didn’t waver, but the glint in his eyes sharpened, almost predatory. “Oh, come on. Is that really how you greet an old friend? I’m just trying to be nice here.”

The term “old friend” felt like a punch to the gut, dredging up feelings and memories I thought I’d buried. How many times had he played my feelings off to dismiss my concerns, to manipulate me into staying when I knew I should leave? His casual dismissal of my anger was typical. Now that we’re not together anymore, I realized how effortlessly he could twist my emotions, bending them to his will. And how stupid I’d been to let him control me like that.

I struggled to keep my emotions in check, stepping closer with a confidence I didn’t know I had. “Don’t waste your breath,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside. “Someone needs to say ‘no’ to you for once, and you need to accept it.”

A tense pause followed my response. Roman’s smile faltered slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. It was clear he hadn’t anticipated such a cold rejection from me.

He finally spoke, breaking the silence with a smirk. “Attitude suits you,” he said. “But don’t pretend you’re not getting in this car.”

My eyes widened at his audacity, surprise and indignation flashing across my face. I let out a sharp, incredulous scoff. “Trust me, I’m not,” I said, shaking my head and turning away as I continued to walk, my heart pounding in my chest.

Roman’s voice trailed behind me, casual yet insistent. “Since when did you get so stubborn?” he chuckled, mockery lacing his words; he knew precisely how to push my buttons.

“Leave me alone, Roman! I don’t want to deal with you right now!” I waved him off, not looking back. The cool breeze made me shiver, but the warmth of the encounter lingered, unsettling me. How could he still have this effect on me after everything?

The limo caught up with me again, matching my pace with unnerving ease. “You really haven’t missed me?” Roman asked, his voice laced with genuine surprise, as if the idea was completely unfathomable to him.

“I haven’t,” I shot back, frustration rising. But even as I said it, I couldn’t shake the echo of old feelings stirring within me.

Roman seemed taken aback by my response. Despite all those times I’d come running when he called in the middle of the night, this time I was determined not to fall into old patterns. But the way he looked at me now, made it hard to remember why I’d left in the first place.

“Are you seeing someone new, baby?” he asked, trying to sound casual but with a possessive edge that made my skin crawl. It was clear that Roman didn’t want me for himself, but he couldn’t bear the thought of me with anyone else.

I felt a shiver down my spine when he called me baby, a term of endearment that had once made me feel cherished but now only reminded me of how he’d used it to manipulate me. Composing myself, I snapped, “Why do you care? It’s none of your business anymore.”

Roman’s eyes softened just a touch, though his tone remained cool and controlled. “Maybe I care because forgetting someone who was once significant isn’t easy,” he said, clearly calculating his words to his advantage. “Even if I’m not around, it’s natural for me to wonder how you’re doing.”

My gaze softened momentarily, doubt creeping in. Maybe he was being genuine this time? Maybe this was a rare moment of vulnerability? But as I considered his words, the realization hit: he was still playing his old games, still trying to weave me back into the web I’d worked so hard to escape.

With renewed confidence, I hardened my expression and stepped back into my guarded stance. “Nice try, but I’m still not getting in.” I said, my voice steady.

Roman propped his other arm on the window ledge, his posture relaxed but his eyes intense, as if he were dissecting me with his gaze. He shook his head with a hint of a grin. “You have your guard up,” he noted, almost admiringly. “I get it.”

He glanced around the empty streets with a casual shrug. “But these streets aren’t exactly welcoming at night. Why don’t you come inside? We can talk somewhere a bit more… secure. I’d hate for something to happen to you if I leave you here.”

The words hung in the air, a veiled threat wrapped in concern. I glanced at my bags, their weight suddenly overwhelming, as if they carried the burden of every bad decision I’d ever made. With no cabs in sight and my last change spent, I nodded reluctantly. “Fine.”

Roman’s eyes lit up with triumph as he signaled to his chauffeur. The driver took my bags and held the door open. As I stepped inside, the cool, luxurious interior enveloped me, a stark contrast to the chill outside. The door closed with a solid thud, sealing me in with him. After a few seconds, the limo glided away from the quiet streets.

Roman leaned back, clearly satisfied with himself. “Glad you decided to join me.”

I shot him a pointed look. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just wanted to avoid another argument.”

Roman’s smile stayed, but his eyes narrowed. “Avoiding confrontation? That’s a change.”

I stared out the window, struggling to keep my frustration in check. The city lights blurred into streaks of gold and white, I couldn’t help but think how far I’d come since leaving him and how being in this limo with him is a step back from all the progress I’d made. “Maybe it is, but I’m not interested in reliving old fights. I’ve moved on, and so should you.”

“Moved on, huh?” Roman’s eyebrows raised, his tone mocking. “That’s charming.”

I fought to suppress the flicker of vulnerability that threatened to surface. “Even if there’s something still here, it doesn’t change that it’s over between us. You’re not good for me.”

Roman’s smile softened just a fraction, but his gaze remained locked on mine. “Not good for you? That’s harsh. Things got messy, sure, but we had our moments. Some of them… unforgettable.” His voice dropped slightly on that last word, leaving no doubt he was talking about more than just casual memories.

I met his gaze, feeling the pull despite myself. The intensity of his stare was overwhelming, like he was drawing me in, making me question my resolve. “That doesn’t mean it was healthy. I’m not interested in falling back into old patterns.” I took a deep breath, willing the air to cleanse the memories crowding my mind. “I’m here because I had no other choice, not because I want to revisit the past.”

Roman tsked softly, his grin deepening. “You can tell yourself you had no choice, but deep down, you’re here because you wanted to be. Let’s stop pretending otherwise.”

He glanced downward, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Nice shoes.”

I looked down and realized that I had on the shoes he’d given me as a gift a few months before we broke up. The recognition stung like a slap to the face. I shifted uncomfortably, crossing my arms over my chest as if to protect myself from the fact that this wasn’t helping my case of proving that I had moved on. “I don’t need you analyzing me,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. “I’m not here for your psychological games.”

Roman’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Games? I’m just trying to have a conversation. Why does everything have to be so complicated between us?”

“Well, who decided it had to be this way?” I retorted, frustration clear in my voice. His intense gaze made it hard to stay composed.

I looked away, trying to regain my composure, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “Is this really the right time for a discussion?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly, betraying the control I so desperately tried to maintain.

“Maybe not ideal, but it’s the only time we have right now.”

His words, combined with his piercing gaze, made my resolve waver. I felt my defenses crumbling, the tension between us growing thicker, more suffocating. I stared out the window, trying to ignore the familiar pull of his presence, but the darkness outside only seemed to amplify the proximity of his body to mine.

Roman gently cupped my cheek, his fingers warm against my skin, sending a jolt of electricity through me. He guided my face to meet his, the movement tender but insistent. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes, finding myself looking into his piercing green ones. His gaze drifted to my lips, lingering there for what felt like an eternity. “I know you still love me,” he whispered, his voice low and seductive. The touch stirred emotions I’d worked hard to suppress, the ones that always lingered just beneath the surface, waiting for a moment like this to break free.

The word “love” made me cringe inwardly. I was worn out by its lingering presence in my life, of its power to stir emotions I thought I had under control. Deep down, I knew he was right. My feelings for him were always all-consuming, like an addiction I couldn’t kick. Roman is the kind of person who you never get over—he’s complex, captivating, and even with all his contradictions, he’s still irresistibly perfect.

His touch and words reached a vulnerable part of me I’d tried to bury. I felt my defenses weakening, caught between my feelings and the need to stay distant. His fingers traced my jaw, making it increasingly difficult to hold back.

Roman’s gaze locked onto mine, holding me in place. “You can’t deny it. It’s always been us, no matter how hard you try to fight it.”

He drew me closer, his eyes meeting mine before shifting to my lips. Slowly, he leaned in and kissed me. The touch was both familiar and electrifying.

The kiss deepened, and as I laid a hand on his chest, he wrapped an arm around me, drawing me onto his lap. The heat of his embrace and the intimacy only amplified the kiss, enveloping me in its fervent intensity.

Roman's hands roamed my back, his touch a mix of control and raw need. He pulled me closer, his lips teasing heated kisses along my neck. "You know," he murmured against my skin, "I've been with other women since we broke up, but none of them even come close to you."

His kisses traveled lower, each touch sparking a fierce desire. "No matter who I fuck, no one hits the spot like you do," he whispered, his voice loaded with lust. "You're the one I keep coming back to."

As his lips continued their descent, his hands explored every curve with a possessive grip. "I can't get enough of you," he said, his words dripping with desire. “Of your mouth, how you taste, how you feel when I’m inside of you, fuck— just everything about you drives me insane.”

His harsh confessions only heightened my arousal, the rawness of his words sending shivers through me. I found myself unconsciously rocking back and forth on him, trying to chase the intense pleasure his words and touch were provoking.

As his hands began to explore further, I felt him start to lift my dress. The unexpected touch made me gasp sharply, a jolt of pleasure shooting through me as he squeezed my ass.

"Lucky me," he said with a smirk, his eyes glinting with satisfaction as he noted that I wasn't wearing pants under my dress.

“Roman, be gentle—” I started to protest, but before I could say more, I felt him grip my panties and tear them apart with ease. I noticed him quickly stow the torn pieces in his pocket, though he tried to be discreet about it. He swiftly smacked my ass, the sharp sting pulling a wince from me as I held on tight to him.

He chuckled softly at my reaction to his teasing smacks. Maintaining eye contact, he slid one of the straps of my dress down from my shoulder and drew me closer to press a kiss against my skin. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a tender whisper.

I couldn’t help but feel my cheeks flush at his unexpected gentleness. Nevertheless, I enjoyed it while it lasted. But then, Roman’s hands grew rough again. With a decisive tug, he gripped the fabric of my dress and yanked it down violently, even as I sat on his lap. The fabric stretched and tore, the sound of ripping cloth filling the air. He pulled the dress off my shoulders with a fierce urgency, letting it fall in a heap around us. Each move was swift and commanding, his impatience palpable as he discarded the remains with a rough toss.

He surveyed my body as if seeing it for the first time, his gaze smoldering with a primal hunger. His hands slid to my waist, his touch commanding as he traced my skin. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his whisper brimming with desire.

I smiled shyly, unsure of what to say. He noticed and chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear. His fingers lingered on my skin, and the moment felt incredibly intimate, reminiscent of the times we used to share. I closed my eyes, savoring the connection.

When I opened my eyes, I met his green gaze and pulled him closer for a kiss.

The kiss quickly turned rough. I kept my hand around his neck, squeezing to draw out his groans, while his hands roamed to my ass, each squeeze making me gasp.

As we continued to kiss, he slid his hands down to unbuckle his belt. The metal buckle clanged to the floor of the limo, and he swiftly freed himself. I kissed his neck as he thrust into me, filling me completely. I adjusted to his length, moaning as I began to ride him, my body arching with each movement. I wrapped my arms around his neck, our lips crashing together. He broke the kiss suddenly, his eyes locked onto mine as I breathed heavily, my mouth open with each needy gasp.

“I missed you—so much,” he groaned, his voice rough with desire as he guided my hips with each movement. His grip was firm but tender, his fingers pressing into my skin. I watched as his eyes fluttered shut, lost in the intense pleasure.

"I-I missed you too-fuck!" I moaned, my voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. Breathing heavily, I rode him with mounting urgency, each movement driven by our shared desire.

The plush leather of the limo's seats offered a soft cushion as I straddled him, our bodies moving together in a fevered rhythm. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer for desperate, urgent kisses. The confined space of the limo intensified every sound-the rhythmic slap of our bodies, our breathy moans, and the occasional gasp echoing around us.

As I felt the pressure building inside me, I moved my hands to his shoulders, gripping them for stability as my pace increased. The tension in my core surged with each thrust, my breaths coming out in uneven gasps. His hands remained steady on my hips, guiding our rhythm as we both were near of climaxing.

His fingers dug deeper into my hips as he leaned in, his breath warm and heavy against my ear. "I can feel you tightening around me," he grunted, his voice edged with strained pleasure as I hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Let go. Finish all over me."

I let out a high-pitched squeal as I felt myself coming undone, the ecstasy overwhelming me to the point of tears.

My body trembled uncontrollably, each wave of pleasure crashing over me as I moaned his name, the sound escaping in desperate, breathless gasps. As I reached the peak, I felt him shudder beneath me, his release coinciding with mine. His grip on my hips tightened, his breath coming in ragged bursts as we both climaxed together.

I pressed my forehead against his, holding him tightly as we both caught our breath. After a moment, I carefully slid off him and settled beside him, panting softly. As I lay there, trying to regain my composure, a thought crossed my mind: If I ever wanted to get over Roman, I'd need a twelve-step program.

[librababe99]

Weathering the Storm

A/N: Hey Y’all! So I’ve always been someone who lurks, reblogs and enjoys the work that others put out on Tumblr. I have attempted to write things in the past but end up keeping it to myself or scrap the idea altogether— BUT after watching Deadpool and Wolverine my love for those two has hit me hard!  Anyways, here’s a little angsty blurb I wrote for Logan. 

Please let me know what you think! I'm open to suggestions and comments!

- Libra ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:*

Warnings: None.  Word Count: 620

The rain pounds against the window, a relentless downpour that mirrors the storm brewing inside you. You sit on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to hold it together. But it’s hard. It’s so damn hard when everything feels like it’s falling apart.

Logan is pacing the room, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. You can see the tension in his muscles, the barely contained fury that radiates off him in waves. He hasn’t looked at you since the argument started—since the words that neither of you can take back were thrown like daggers.

“Logan,” you finally say, your voice breaking the heavy silence. He stops but doesn’t turn to face you. His shoulders rise and fall with each breath, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s even listening.

But then he speaks, his voice rough and edged with pain. “I can’t keep doin’ this,” he mutters, the words barely audible over the rain. “Every time… it’s like I’m losing you a little more.”

Your heart clenches at the raw emotion in his tone, and you stand, taking a hesitant step toward him. “You’re not losing me,” you say, though the crack in your voice betrays your own doubt. “I’m right here.”

He finally turns to look at you, his eyes shadowed with something that makes your breath catch. There’s anger there, yes, but beneath it, there’s something deeper—something broken. “But for how long?” he asks, his voice rough with a vulnerability he rarely shows. “How long before you walk away? Before you decide you can’t handle bein’ with a guy like me?”

The accusation stings because it’s not entirely unfounded. You’ve both been through hell, and sometimes the weight of it all feels like too much. But the thought of leaving him? Of walking away from the only person who truly understands you? That’s a pain you can’t bear to even consider.

“I’m not leaving you, Logan,” you insist, your voice trembling. “I—” You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. “I’m scared, okay? Scared that one day I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone. That something will happen, and I won’t be able to stop it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. I just… I don’t know how to deal with this.”

He’s silent for a long moment, his gaze piercing as he studies you. Then, with a heavy sigh, he steps forward, closing the distance between you. His hand reaches up, his rough fingers brushing your cheek. “You’re not gonna lose me, darlin’,” he murmurs, the anger in his voice replaced by something softer, something laced with the same fear you feel. “But I can’t keep fightin’ this battle alone. We’re in this together, or we’re not in it at all.”

His words hang in the air, a challenge and a plea all at once. You meet his gaze, feeling the weight of the decision before you. It would be easy to walk away, to let the fear and doubt win. But as you look into Logan’s eyes, you realize that leaving him would hurt more than anything else ever could.

Taking a deep breath, you place your hand over his. “We’re in this together,” you whisper, the resolve in your voice stronger now. “No matter what.”

For a moment, the tension between you lingers, but then Logan pulls you into his arms, holding you tight as if afraid you might slip away. You bury your face in his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours. The storm outside rages on, but in Logan’s embrace, you find a sliver of peace—a promise that, despite the darkness, you’ll face whatever comes together.

[a-boca-do-inferno]

medicine (caesar x human!reader)

summary: The ape colony is short on painkillers for humans, except Caesar learned a lot in his time living with them. Lucky for you.

warnings: period mention, interspecies (mild)smut

words: 1.9k

notes: lol yeah another one... im just enjoying it while i can ok. my vacation ends next month 💀 boa leitura!

It couldn’t be later than midnight. You hissed as your cramps only got harsher and harsher. In the cold everything became much worse, and this time was no different. You curled up towards Maurice to try and borrow some warmth from his fur, yet it felt helpless; your body shook like a leaf, and the pain in your womb was ridiculous.

Noticing your distress, Maurice wakes up from his sleep and signs with a worried expression, “I call Caesar?”

You shake your head even before he can say his name. The ape king had more important matters to attend to than your stupid human cramps. On top of it all, it was his resting moment now. You wouldn’t bother him with this. “No. Let him sleep.”

“Herbs?”

“Doesn’t work.” You grunt in frustration, signing with a frown. “I’m fine. By morning it will get better. It’s just the cold.”

“Winter start now.” Maurice argues, still with his gentleness in every word. You only nod in response and he insists, pointing towards Caesar’s tent. “Talk tomorrow. He can help. Lived with humans… before.”

Your eyes fell on the king sleeping a few feet away from you. Could Maurice really have a point? Perhaps Caesar indeed knew some trick to help with period cramps. You did hear he was brought up with human parents, which meant he must’ve had a woman around—you never touched on the subject out of respect, since you two weren’t close. Exchanging a last look with the orangutan, you displayed another short nod. A wave of pain reached your abdomen again and you sighed quietly, burying yourself in ginger fur, despite it being fruitless at that point.

The next day, the colony was awake as soon as the sun was out. It was a rare morning with sunlight and you thanked heavens mentally, appreciating the heat, even if mild, radiating from the star above. The pain had subdued considerably and you took the opportunity to help with supper. Sometimes you helped Maurice in school, but being on your feet proved to make matters worse those days.

You settled around the fire with the girls who tended to cooking. As you were in the middle of grilling fish, a hand touched your shoulder and you turned to face Caesar beating a tight expression. You stood up immediately to greet him, showing your respect for the king. You tried your best to look obedient to his power, as you were well aware of their history with humans, and his reaction was always the same—a dismissive hand gesture, green eyes softening gradually. However, his gaze remained serious now, and you gulped in anticipation.

“Cramps?” Caesar points to your stomach, his gravelly voice a low sound.

Your cheeks heat up and you want to roll your eyes, but refrain from doing so. Maurice and his gigantic mouth. You had hoped he’d forgotten about last night’s talk. Gesturing sheepishly, you stare at the floor. “It’s fine. The sun helps.” You motion upwards to prove your point.

Caesar glances at the pink sky and notices the big star almost fading in the horizon, then back at you. Your inability to keep eye contact with him didn’t go unnoticed, either, making him narrow his green orbs. The muscles in his jaw jump, and he grumbles, his face unimpressed, “sun not here at night.”

“I know, but...”

“But?” He challenges, raising a brow. The king crossed his arms over his chest, a gesture that made him even more menacing. You were used to his imposing presence—the tall and muscular build, the scars on his body, the permanent look of seriousness—yet there were few things more intimidating than seeing Caesar like this, with his displeasure directed at you.

You take a deep breath, trying your best to sound convincing even though you felt like a child being reprimanded. “But I have Maurice to…”

“Maurice... ratted you out. Like humans… say.” Caesar cuts you off with a hint of amusement, in contrast with his dry voice. Carefully, he takes your shirt in his large hands, lifting the fabric to expose your belly without so much as a request for permission; not that he needed it, anyway. His calloused fingers made goose bumps on your skin while navigating your soft form. He lets go of you and signs sharply. “Need medicine. Can’t stay like this.”

You furrow your brows. “They don’t work, Caesar, but it’s okay. It’s just a couple of days. It’ll go away.”

He stops for a moment, contemplating your protests. His gaze flicks to your eyes, acute and intense, making you shrink under his scrutiny. “Not okay. Pain… too much.” Surely the ape would never let you be writhing in pain every night, no matter if it was but a week. With a final huff, Caesar then orders, “you stay with me tonight.”

“But I...” At the look he shoots you, you know there’s no more arguing. The king has spoken. With a defeated sigh, you nod and watch him step away on his hind legs, towering over the others. You mutter under your breath, “God, I miss democracy.” 

As the day went on, you did your best to ignore the annoying throb in your abdomen, knowing you'd be glared at by Caesar if he caught you grimacing again. A low hum of crickets began to fill the night air as the apes settled down around the fire. The hour grew late and the campsite gradually became quiet, the crackling bonfire the only source of light and life. 

You were eating fish alongside Maurice and Rocket, laughing at something the ginger spoke about the kids in school today. On the other side of the circle, green eyes kept vigilant over you with no subtlety at all. You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks burning at the attention. Caesar finished his meal, glancing towards you through the darkness as you remained by the fire after everyone was gone. He slowly made his way over, his massive figure casting a shadow as he approached you. 

With some lightheartedness he signs, extending a hand, “time to rest.” Your eyes follow his gestures and you take his palm. He guides you toward his tent in considerable silence before closing the curtain-like branches draped over the entrance, hooting faintly as he points to his nest. “Lie down.”

You obey him, your breathing slowly increasing its pace. You clasp your hands over your stomach anxiously, intertwining your fingers. “What are you gonna do?”

Caesar scans over you for a moment, noting the tension in your demeanour. “Massage.” He grunts, moving to sit next to you, his muscles rippling with his every movement. The ape pries apart your hands, replacing them with his own much larger ones, his palms settling on your abdomen similar to how he did earlier. He eyes your reactions closely. “May… I?”

You didn’t respond with words, silently granting Caesar permission to go on with his idea. Hooting again, a sound that almost felt like he was trying to soothe your nerves, his rough skin made contact with your tender one, brushing and squeezing it in fairly skilful ways. In spite of the awkwardness of the situation, you found yourself relaxing under his ministrations, your eyelids fluttering shut from time to time. The ape didn’t say much as he worked, green orbs fixated on your expressions while continuing to move his hands in small circles over your womb area. His face was nearly unreadable, the usual stoic frown now replaced by a look of concentration.   

The ape kept going, a low grumble escaping him every now and then as he tried to maintain the pressure at a certain point to make the pain dissipate. You had no idea when it shifted in nature, yet all of a sudden, his movements seemed a lot more sensual than anything. Your interior was only getting hotter by the minute, accompanied by the clear flush on your face. It’s the hormones. It’s the hormones. It’s the hormones. Your attempts at making yourself believe in those affirmations were unsuccessful, pathetic at best; and it all came down crumbling when the quietest moan left your throat, causing Caesar to freeze and stop with the massage.

You stare at him with widened eyes, embarrassment and fear encapsulated in your features, and you immediately sit up and sign in desperation, your tone just as urgent, “I’m… I’m sorry, Caesar, please. It was just…”

A dark look passed over Caesar’s face as he watched you stumble on yourself with apologies. Without a word, his stare dropped to your body once more, the fingers in your abdomen applying more pressure against the flesh, feeling the heat as you reacted to his touch. He could smell your scent changing and a guttural sound escaped his lips as his green eyes glanced at you unblinking, his hand slowly drifting down your womb and stopping on your pelvis deliberately. 

You inhaled sharply, in surprise and excitement, the realisation hitting you like a brick. The ape curled his digits and resumed the massage, his nostrils flaring as he huffed, clearly aroused. Your faces stood inches apart, his hot, heavy breath against you blowing your hair lightly. You put your arm around his neck and he grunted in appreciation, his expression softening at the way you whimpered in pleasure, begging for more. His fingers rubbed circles on your clit through your clothes in a steady rhythm, causing you to bury your face in his furry neck, gasping.

“I’m gonna…”

Caesar heaved in your ear encouragingly and it was the final straw. You came against his hand, squeezing your thighs in reflex whilst he kept massaging your heat through your orgasm. The ape king continued to look at you eagerly and you tried to get out of his grasp, ashamed of what just transpired. He swallowed thickly, holding onto your forearm to prevent you from scooting away, and pressed your foreheads together.

He hooted, grabbing your palm and taking it to his leg. Your gaze followed his movement and you noticed how excited he was, too. Your mind was hazy from your high just a few seconds ago, then it dawned on you that he felt as aroused as you by what happened. It wasn’t just you and your period hormones. It never even crossed your mind that it was possible for him to desire you this way. You cupped his cheeks as your heads stayed pressed to one another, closing your eyes, his scent intoxicating your system.

Caesar nuzzled your cheek, inhaling the sweet smell of you in as much as he could, making sure to memorise each and every inch of your scent under his touch. He ran his hand to place it on the nape of your neck, guiding your body towards his, until you were sitting on his lap, straddling his massive frame. The action brought your chest flush with his, a low rumble escaping him when your curves brushed his bare skin. He found the crook of your shoulder, his tongue trailing a path over the sensitive area, making you shiver. The king huffed again, his free hand sliding up your leg to grip a handful of your flesh, pulling you closer—his grip kept you in place, letting him claim you in any way he wanted.

“Cold?” He hums, still nuzzling you.

The sensation causes you to blush deeper, caressing his chin. “Not anymore.”

“Cramp?” Caesar rasps inquisitively, placing a warm palm on your belly again.

You snort and shake your head. “No. Your medicine worked... Thanks.”

You can swear there’s a smirk on his lips as he nods once, holding your hips protectively. “Good.” He presses you closer to him and huffs, and you understand it right away. Your doctor’s appointment wasn’t over yet, it seemed.

[onetoomanyfandomfixations]

Jealous Ex!Katsuki x Fem!Reader

A/N: this is totally not based off of how i wish my ex acted when i had a creep hitting on me ha.

MDNI - SMUT BELOW CUT.

WARNINGS: ANGST/COMFORT, SLEAZY CREEP, HURT, UNPROTECTED SEX, RECONCILIATION SEX, DRUNK SEX

-

It’s been six months. And I’m one drink down for every month since he left me. So I really shouldn’t feel as sick as I do when a random wraps their arm around my waist.

He tugs me into his scrawny, shirtless figure and my stomach lurches.

Everything smells of stale cigarette smoke. 

This is wrong.

Gently I push the stranger off, wandering back towards the bar. A tired smile from the bartender greets me.

“Hi lovely,” I smile, jumping up on the barstool.

“What can I do for you babes?” The small person hums, mousy hair flopping across their face.

“Can you make me another one of those yummy cocktails? Y’know, the one with the fireball and the-” I start, leaning inwards.

“The one that tastes like autumn?” They finish, a knowing smile.

“Yes!” I can feel my head slosh as I nod. Maybe I’m more tipsy than I thought. 

Unwanted arms twist around my waist yet again.

“Hey pretty,” Unkempt long hair tickles my shoulder. Hot breath on my neck. 

“I’m gonna go back to dancing,” I excuse myself, untangling us. Clutching my drink, I weave in and out of the crowd. The warmth is more uncomfortable than it was before, sticky and clammy.

A pain in my shoulder, my drink wasted on myself and the floor.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry” I start, embarrassment heating my cheeks.

“Hey, watch where you’re-” A voice, so familiar it hurts. Low, and consistently gravelly.

“y/n.” Shock changes his tone. Aggression turns soft. My heart squeezes.

Six months.

Six months and I’m still so undeniably in love with Bakugou Katsuki it hurts me.

“Hi,” I mumble, eyes trained on my hands.

He clears his throat and my eyes can’t help but follow the noise. 

Rubies.

I always said his eyes were rubies.

Not the blood of his enemies, like Kaminari so often joked.

Rubies.

Warmth and pain mixes inside of me, and I find myself biting my tongue.

I love you.

It would be so easy to say.

“Aww did you spill ya drink pretty? ‘S okay, I’ll get you another one.” Cigarette overtakes my smell and I do everything not to gag.

“Um, I’m actually gonna head home.” Shaking the man off yet again, I go to turn around.

“Ooh, ready for some fun are we? Lead the way, beautiful.” Hands around my waist, and my throat closes.

“No.” I shake my head, squirming out of his arms yet again.

“Aww, but baby” His arms are tighter this time, face nuzzled into my neck.

“Oi, she told you to fuck off.” Katsuki steps forward, and I go to turn my head.

“Ha, you’re just jealous that I’m gonna get somma this tonight.” Wet warmth trails up my neck and I cringe away.

Stifling hold is suddenly tugged away.

“She’s not interested, dickhead. Now fuck off before I make you.” Katsuki’s voice is grim, fearless. All I can focus on is wiping the saliva off my neck.

“Fuckin fine. She’s not that cute anyway.” I hear a huff becoming more and more distant.  

Another arm. New, but old; drapes across my shoulders.

“Gonna walk you home to make sure no more creeps try’nd attack you.” Katsuki mumbles, gently guiding me through the crowd.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

The outside air is cold, drawing me closer to the man’s core heat. Small sparks on my shoulder act as a radiator.

The walk is quiet, and my head swims too much to understand if its comfortable or uncomfortable. 

Only when we reach my apartment, does his warm arm leave me. 

As if it’s muscle memory, he lifts up the pot plant; grabbing the spare key and letting us in. Kicking off my shoes, I wander towards the next best warmth I can get.

My bed is cushy, a welcome comfort.

Katsuki enters not too long after, water and toast in hand.

“You need to eat before you sleep,” He says, plopping down next to me.

Rubies, full of warmth.

“Why are you being so nice?” I mumble, eyes stinging.

I miss this. I miss him.

“Cause I fucked up,” He whispers.

“What did you do this time, Bakugou?” I sigh, picking up the glass.

“I hurt someone because I didn’t want them to hurt me first.”

My heart hitches.

“But then I realised that all I did was hurt both of us, for no goddamn reason.”  The water splashes against the sides of the glass as I tremble uncontrollably.

“She won’t even say my name anymore.” The grief is heavy in his voice, breaking it gently. And I can’t hold back my tears.

“You said you didn’t love me anymore,” My voice warbles past the lump in my throat.

“I knew you could do better,” He mumbles, picking at the duvet he helped me choose.

“I don’t want better!” I cry, gripping the glass.

“I want you.” Glancing over, I can’t help but stare.

Bakugo Katsuki does not cry.

Yet diamonds fall from rubies.

“Then be mine again. Please.” He whispers, voice catching. 

And all I can do is nod.

Coolness of glass leaves my hands. Warmth cradles my cheeks.

“Thank you baby,” His lips meet mine, and I’m home. 

Home tastes like cheap cola from the bar. 

Home is our teeth clashing as we smile through tears and kisses. 

Home is my fingers twisting through staticy blond.

“I missed you so much,” I whisper against his jaw.

“Missed you more.” Strong arms pull me effortlessly into his lap. His hands stay on my hips, tracing gentle circles.

“Lemme show you how much I missed you.” Katsuki asks, tugging me impossibly closer. Kisses tickle down my neck, and my entire body floods with adoration.

“Please,” I nuzzle into his hair, savouring the closeness. I jerk my neck away as he gently bites exactly where he knows I hate.

“Katsuki,” I whine, shoving his face away. A warm chuckle reverberates through his chest. The sound is contagious, making bubbles in my chest.

“You’re an ass,” I bite back my smile, gentling pushing him further.

“Yeah, but I’m your ass.” He mumbles, pulling me back in. Arms push me down, feeling him grow beneath me.

My body clenches excitedly, as familiar hands start tracing up my stomach.

“Take this stupid thing off,” His voice vibrates against my neck, as he tugs at the hem of my top.

“Hm,” I muse loudly, deciding to have some fun. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You little shit,” He growls fondly, pushing the top up as his hands wander further. A gentle squeeze to my breasts is all I need to continue my attack on his jaw.

“But I’m your little shit,” I mock inbetween kisses. I feel his jaw clench beneath my touch.

“Alright, thats it.” He huffs, wrapping an arm around my waist.

Suddenly, I’m off his lap; the bed bouncing at my sudden shift in weight. The bubbles in my chest build until they burst into a fit of giggles.

“There’s my pretty woman,” Katsuki smiles, eyes soft. Gently, he fully removes my top. And then his own.

The warmth of skin on skin is a comfort I’ve missed oh so much. 

Obviously, Katsuki missed it just as much; face disappearing into the valley between my breasts. 

Soft kisses leave pins and needles, and I reach for his hand. In an instant, our fingers are interlocked.

Like he never left.

I revel in the moment, using my free hand to trace patterns on his shoulders.

Small sparks greet my skin as his other hand massages my thigh. I feel myself dampen at the closeness - leaning into his touch.

“You sure you want this pretty woman? You’re still tipsy,” Its so odd, hearing such soft words from such a hardened, aggressive man. 

“Please, Kats” I breathe, moving my hand to his hair. A hum of agreement, and his loving assault continues.

I keep tracing patterns, unintentionally digging down as his hands get close to where I want them - no - need them to be.

A ghost of a touch, and I’m pushing myself up to meet him.

“Missed me that bad, did we?” He scoffs in amusement, fingers circling my clothed clit.

“Like you’re one to talk,” I mumble, cheeks heating. Softly grinding on me, my breath hitches.

“Sorry baby, but I’m not waiting anymore,” He whispers, pulling my panties off; his boxers following suit.

Rubies bore into me, sparkling with adoration.

And suddenly, pain and pleasure all in one.

“C’mon, you’re okay. You can take it.” Katsuki praises as he thrusts in. I blink through watery eyes, nodding.

The movement is slow at first, just until the pain falls away. 

Then, its relentless. 

The sound of skin on skin echoes through my small apartment, going at an unholy speed. My toes scrunch as I’m sent into ecstasy.

“See how much I missed you?” Hands grasp my hair, moving my head to the side to leave kiss after kiss.

“See how much I love you?” He grunts into my neck, suckling right near my jaw. Words fail, leaving me only able to whimper in response.

“Yeah that’s right,” He whispers to me, fastening his pace. More whines bubble past my lips.

“Love you so much, never gonna leave again, you hear that?” His words a near hiss, nipping my neck gently.

“Kats, kats, please,” I beg, gripping onto him for dear life. My stomach coils, and I don’t know how long I’ll last.

“Come on baby, cum for me.” He encourages, pushing deeper, faster.

I break, legs spasming as I gush.

But Kastuki doesn’t stop.

Instead, he pushes my ankles up near my ears - keeping his relentless pace. Tears spill over my cheeks at the overstimulation.

“Just a little longer, okay?” He promises, hot breath painting my thighs. I nod frantically, practically melting into the bed.

But the coil tightens again, and I can’t help but squirm.

“Come on, together this time. Where do you want me?” Katsuki asks, somehow pumping harder.

“Inside,” I croak through tears. It’s too much.

An eyebrow raises.

“You wan’t me to make you a mama, that it?” He huffs, beads of crystalline sweat coating his brow.

“Mhm,” I whine, clenching at the thought.

“Fuck, y/n.” He grunts, burying himself into me.

Warmth floods me, and my blond lover collapses ontop of me.

“Love you so much, Katsuki,” I whisper, tangling my hands through his hair. I press a gentle kiss to his temple.

“Love you more, dumbass.” He sighs, kissing wherever he can reach. 

-BONUS-

“I guess this means you’re reinvited to Tsu and ‘Chako’s wedding.” I hum, scratching his head.

“The fuck you mean ‘reinvited’?” Katsuki snarls sleepily, nuzzling into my neck.

“Honey, you were my plus one. You never got your own invite,” I gently remind him, amusement tickling my insides.

“What cunts.” He grumbles, pulling me close.

“Katsuki!”

[kinascum]

BITS. - M.STURNIOLO (harry potter AU)

summary: As night descended upon the Hogwarts grounds, the students retreated to their dormitories. However, as a prefect, you noticed a student missing from the dungeons.

Warnings: listen english is not my first language im sorry, angst, sad matt, regulus black coded matt, prefect!reader, slytherin!matt.

A/N: Hey! this is pt1 of my 1K CELEBRATION! find the celebration masterlist here (coming soon)! enjoy!!

As darkness fell, enveloping the Hogwarts castle, all of the students retired to their dormitories, preparing for a restful night's sleep. However, as a diligent prefect of Slytherin House, you couldn't help but notice that Matt Sturniolo was conspicuously absent from the Slytherin Common Room. Despite the stringent rules prohibiting students from wandering the halls at night, your concern for Matt propelled you to search for him.

Quietly making your way through the dimly lit corridors, you cautiously avoid the watchful gaze of the janitor and the ever-wandering eyes of the teachers. After what seems like an eternity, you catch sight of a mysterious figure in the main courtyard. And there he is, standing alone amidst the cold night, his face powdered with a delicate layer of snow. His demeanor exudes an aura of hostility and distance, not at all striking as this was his usual self. As you cautiously approach him, attempting to engage in conversation, Matt remains silent, his thoughts veiled in the mystique of the silent winter night.

You try several times to bring him out of his melancholic trance, but it seems like no matter how hard you try, Matt won't speak. Frustrated by his seemingly stubborn silence, you approach him and grab his shoulder, turning him back. You gasp, not having expected the tears running through his eyes.

"Matt...?" you question, concern bubbling in your own eyes as Matt' sobs intensify.

"Get away from me!" he yells tearfully, his voice quivering with fear and vulnerability. You instinctively reach out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he recoils, his eyes filled with hostility as if they were shooting needles into your skin.

Matt had never been the type to open up, yet you can't bear to see him suffer alone. Not when you know that his loneliness is eating away at him, causing him to doubt himself and question his sanity. How could someone as thoughtful and kindhearted (even if he didn't show it much) as Matt go through such anguish? It doesn't make sense.

In one swift motion, you pull the boy into a tight embrace, offering him the only comfort that you can give him in this time of need. He fights against your warmth. Sighs of denial fly out onto your shoulder as he cries. He rejects the embrace as he is used to doing, but you know he needs this more than his pride.

Eventually, he starts desperately clutching your clothes, struggling to stifle his cries, burying his head in your chest. You gently caress his back, trying to offer some semblance of comfort, yet his shaking is unbearable. All too soon, he pushes you away, looking into your eyes with tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Why are you doing this!?" His uncontrollable sobs cause him to struggle for breath, and as he exhales, large white clouds of condensation form over his face.

Your heart breaks at the anguish radiating from him, as well as the frustration seeping out of every pore of his body. It feels like an entire ocean lies between you two, and the mere sight of it makes you feel so helpless. And then it hits you.

The first thought that comes to mind as you stare into Matt's wide blue eyes: You have to be there for him. If not for yourself, then for the sake of everyone who loves and cares about him. You want to ease the pain that his despair brings him, whether he wants it or not. Matt Sturniolo deserves to be happy, even if he's unable to accept it at the moment.

"I'm doing this because I care," you say between gasps for air, your heart pounding as you desperately search for the right words to convey your understanding.

Even though you barely know this boy, you can sense the weight he carries and how he longs for moments of peace and support. You take tentative steps toward him. You stop in front of him, your heart still pounding, feeling like you had ripped it out just to hand it to him.

As you stand there in the courtyard facing Matt, the cold night air seems to envelope you, creating an almost tangible barrier between your emotions. But the urgency to reach out to him and provide some comfort is overwhelming. He looks at you with a mix of surprise and pain in his eyes, as if he can't fathom why anyone would care about his turmoil.

"I want to be there for you," you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, your own emotions threatening to spill over. "You don't have to go through this alone." Matt gazes at you, his expression a tumultuous blend of vulnerability and defiance.

It's evident that he's battling his inner turmoil, struggling with the idea of letting someone in. For a moment, neither of you speak. The silence seems to echo the heaviness of the situation, mirroring the weight of Matt's pain. At that moment, you feel a profound determination to break through the walls he had built around himself, to let him know that he isn't alone in this.

"I don't know if I can," Matt finally murmurs, his voice laden with uncertainty. He takes a hesitant breath, his gaze flickering between you and the ground. You wait, giving him the space and time he needs to process his emotions.

Before you can say anything, you hear footsteps approaching. Professor McGonagall's dark eyes pierce through the darkness. "What is the meaning of this?" she demands, her voice commanding and tinged with disapproval.

Matt steps back, his moment of vulnerability vanishing as quickly as it had come. "Nothing, Professor. I was just... I was just leaving," he stammers, avoiding your gaze as he brushes past you and heads back toward the Slytherin Common Room.

But before he could, McGonagall stops him dead in his tracks, "No, you werent, actually." She said, the boy stood confused before she continued speaking. "It is far past curfew, children, follow me."

Both you and Matt followed her out of the school, grumbling under your breaths. McGonagall turned and cast a stern look at you both, her eyes daring them to talk back. You quickly obeyed, knowing that McGonagall would not tolerate any disobedience.

Upon arrival at Hagrid's hut, he's already waiting outside, Fang by his side "Well, kids, you'll help me here tonight then," Hagrid said, his heavy accent dripping on his voice as he handed Regulus a heavy light, and an axe to you.

"What is this?" you ask, confused as to why he would hand a heavy axe to a child. "Oh. Right..." he turns around to face you both, "We are cutting down some trees these nasty little creatures have been eating at." The rest of his sentence was drowned out by your thoughts as you walked with him.

The weight of his pain lingers in the cold night air, and you can't help but wonder if you'll ever be able to break through to him. With a heavy heart, you make your way into the forbidden forest, knowing that despite your best intentions, some battles are fought alone.

A/N²: not my best work, but let me know if yall want a pt2, kisses!

[suhnshinehaos]

growing pains : interlude ii

series synopsis : people say that you’ll experience three kinds of love in your lifetime. the first is an idealistic love, the kind that feels straight out of a fairy tale. the second is the hard love, the kind that will leave you with lessons about yourself and the love you want and need to experience. finally, the love you never see coming. this is the story of your three loves. pairing : svt 97 line x gn!reader genre/s : non-idol au, coming of age, angst, fluff, my attempts at humor interlude two wc : ~1.1k

interlude ii  ➤  live well

" and i know it's fine to end our time be safe, be true, and i'll think of you " from palace's live well

previous  ➤  act three, part sixteen next  ➤  act three, part seventeen growing pains  ➤  masterlist

“gyu, i swear to god if you get drunk i’m not carrying you back to your hotel.”

mingyu laughs, loud and unrestrained, his head thrown back and his eyes screwed shut, and it hits you just how much you missed the sound. or really, just how much you missed him. you tilt your head to the side, a small smile creeping up the corners of your mouth as you take a sip of your drink.

“it wouldn’t be the first time.” he speaks through his chuckles, shaking his head, and his eyes meet yours. for a moment, you have the same thought, and he’s the one to actually say it out loud. “this is nice.”

and it really is.

there was once a time when you couldn’t even imagine being in the same room as him, just the two of you, laughing like there hadn’t been years of shared history between the two of you. for a second, a memory flashes across your mind; the feeling of his arm slung across your shoulders, his alcohol laced breath mixing in with his cologne, muttering a drunken string of words that you couldn’t quite make out.     

and you look at the mingyu in front of you, cheeks flushed and a look of complete contentment now settled on his features. 

“crazy how life just,” you pause, and eventually sigh out- “works out, huh?”

under the pale moonlight, in a city both of you are relatively unfamiliar with, mingyu has never felt closer to you than he does now. strangely enough, it all feels right. he nods, “crazy. everything that happened had to have happened.”

a silence settles between the two of you, but not tense nor uncomfortable, as memories of the last couple of years, and eventually the last couple of months, fill both your senses. mingyu scans your face, noting for any signs of unease from being with him.

mingyu finds none, which makes him let out a breath of relief.

cutting through the silence, you ask a question you’ve been meaning to ask him for a while. 

“are you happy, gyu?”

you didn’t mean for the question to be so loaded but, in a way,  you only knew so much. you saw him every now and then, when he came to visit you, jeonghan, vernon, and soonyoung for a couple of days. you saw his instagram stories and twitter posts, travelling around the world, meeting new people, walking runways, booking several editorials.

“i am.” he lets out a breath and you see the tension in his shoulders fall, looking up to the clear night sky then back at you. “god it feels good to finally say that out loud, and actually mean it. you know?”

you blink back at him for a couple of seconds, it seemed like it was something he was just acknowledging himself, but a smile spreads across your face. “i’m so happy for you.”

and you mean it, with every fiber of your being.

just like that, you notice how much he has changed since your college days. gone is the tense, hesitant mingyu that you had once come to know. the one that lied on the other side of your bed in your apartment in new york, the one with the permanent crease between his brows. you see him now, calm and confident, and secure in himself. you had caught glimpses of it before, but now it radiates through him, engulfing you in his light.

“you seeing someone?” the words tumble out of your lips before you couldn’t even process them. curiosity got the better of you, and before you could take it back he simply shakes his head.

“ah no, i go on dates sometimes, but nothing that ever really lasted.”

you nod, and mingyu continues.

“and that’s okay, you know? i’ve just been doing eyes, heart, and arms wide open. being honest with myself and what it really is what i want, whether it’s in my professional or personal life. if things don’t work out, at least i can say i did my best. it took a while for it to feel sincere, and not like i’m just forcing myself to do it for the sake of it, but i’m happy with myself.” 

his voice grows softer as he ends his little ramble, and you part your lips to tell him that you’re proud of him, but he beats you to the punch.

“you taught me that, you know?” he smiles, “i mean, if we hadn’t gone through what we did- not like i’m saying that you were in my life just for a lesson because i really do value you as a friend, and as a person-”

“no, i- i get it, gyu.” you cut off his rambling with a quiet laugh, noticing his eyes become bigger and more panicked. 

he lets out an exaggerated breath of relief and holds a hand over his heart. “what about you, yn? are you happy?” 

your mind briefly flashes to reuniting with your maple drive friends, to the friends you’ve made at work, being able to see jeonghan, soonyoung, and hansol more often, to the shoots you’ve done and the work you’ve accomplished.

from all the stress you’ve gone through from moving so far away from home, from struggling to book shoots when you were freelancing after graduated, to where you are now.

a wave of peace washes over you, and you think of tea in the mornings and farmer’s market runs in the afternoon and impromptu shoots at night. 

mingyu didn’t near to hear your answer, he simply just knew.

he silently raises his glass and you do the same, clinking them together and downing the rest of your drinks. 

“continue to live well, yn.” he says gently, sincerely, looking right into your eyes so you knew he meant every word. 

you reach out a hand across the table rest your hand atop mingyu’s, “you too.” 

he glances at his watch and notices the time, “i should get you back to jihoon, he was already hesitant to let you go with me since you’ve got an early flight tomorrow.”

mingyu settles the tab, ignoring your insistence to pay your share, and you walk back towards your hotel. your shoulder brushes against his, and it doesn’t make his heart flutter in the way it used to. it simply reminds him that you’re still there, walking next to him, and for all his shortcomings, you were still in his life. 

if anything, he was simply just grateful.

even more so when you wrap your arms around him before entering the elevator, hugging him tighter as you whispered, “i’ll see you soon.”

mingyu’s lips stretch into a grin as he waves goodbye and the elevator doors close, “i’ll see you soon.” 

from reese, with love <3

oh yngyu.... ngl i choked up a lil writing that "i'll see you soon" aaaah they are so dear to me. at first i didn't know if i wanted to give gyu the seokmin treatment and give him a potential new partner, but if there's something i want you guys to takeaway from this, it's that romantic love isn't the be all-end all. if you happen to find it, wonderful! bec romantic love is a wonderful thing! but finding love within yourself, the company you keep, and the work you do is just as wonderful- and i'm glad this version of mingyu gets to have that :)

thank you for reading! asks/rbs/replies are always appreciated, i'd love to know what you think <3 hope you're all doing well!

[jimmyneutron877]

"Keep Dancing With Me"

• Pre War Cooper Howard x Reader! Fluff!

(Cooper and you dance together 🥺)

“C’mon Coop! Please just teach me even a little step, pleeeeease”

You and Cooper Howard have been together for a while now, since after he and Barb got divorced, and you had been begging Cooper to teach you the Western line dancing he claims to know.

“No- c’mon- its embarrassin’ please-” He refused you every time saying he was embarrassed, he was “too busy” or he “wasn't in the mood”, but he wouldn't get away with it this time, you wouldn't have it.

You left the couch with a Hm, and disappeared into the bedroom, this was automatically suspicious for Cooper as you’d always persist and plead, and then he heard it… Johnny Cash. He got up from the couch, put his paper down and started for the bedroom, but not before you appeared in the doorway, you gestured for him to come closer with your finger, and when he moved forward you did too, until you both met halfway.

“Cooper Howard, you are going to teach me a dance, or I'll make you” Your voice got low and serious as you looked into his eyes.

He let out a sigh, defeated, “Fine, gimme your hand, put the other on my shoulder” he took your hand with his and guided his other hand down to your waist and gripped it firmly.

You always loved his hands, they were strong and big, and you almost fit into them completely, your hand disappeared into his, like his hands were made for you, and he loved that too.

He showed you the footwork to one he called “Lori's Cha-Cha”, and the beginning was easy, however, you kind of bombed out anything after that, so you two just stuck to the beginning part. It was nice, energetic and intimate at the same time, you were both laughing for the first time in a long time. Johnny Cash was definitely the best pick for this dancing.

“Havin’ fun?” He teased with a smirk, flashing his teeth.

“Yes, I can definitely see you are, you've loosened up, your shoulders aren't as tense” You noted, sending a cheeky smile to him.

“Yeah yeah, whatever” Cooper rolled his eyes.

“Why didn't you ever want to show me before?”

“I don't know, I never thought you'd be so interested in it, I always thought it was a cheesy thing we always had ta learn in school” he spun you around gently and his hand left your waist for a split second before you came back around.

“Aw Coop, you don't have to be embarrassed about it, I love it, I'm always interested in you..I find it really charming, and what better way to woo someone than with your line dancing?” you teased the last part and he scoffed but he knows you meant the beginning.

“I’m sorry for always shovin’ you off before, I also thought you were kinda just teasin’ me ‘bout it” he said that and stopped for a moment, “Actually I'm sorry for not really payin’ attention to you much at all lately, things have been…stressful, and painful, but you didn't deserve the distance, I'm sorry” he looked down and the dancing slowed.

You watched and listened to this, it made your heart ache thinking of everything that's happened to him. You loved him more than anything, more than life itself, but most people took him for granted, and that hurt.

“Coop, look at me” you took your hands and held the sides of his face to make him look down at you again, “It’s okay, I know what you've been through, I know it's been so stressful and you've been hurting, but I'll always be here for you, I love you so much, more than words, and I'll stand by you for the rest of our life together, I love you”

You pulled him down and his lips met yours, he melted into the kiss and wrapped his arms around your whole body, keeping your warmth against him. Letting out an exasperated breath, he relaxed and leant into you and your arms linked around his neck to further deepen the kiss.

When the kiss ended you two just looked into each other's eyes. His amber eyes radiated with the orange sky setting through the window, the green hints flickered like filtered leaves.

“You're beautiful you know that Y/N…” he said dreamily after a while of him studying your face too, “How did I ever deserve you?”

You smiled at his sweet words and gave him another kiss.

“I love you so so much Coop, now please keep dancing with me…”

A/N: Thank you for reading! It's been a while, but I absolutely love Cooper Howard/The Ghoul and the Fallout series, so here I am 😍

Do not borrow/translate/steal

[ay0nha]

This world needs sanji ANGST...i haven't seen anything like that that isn't immediatley fluff so plz plz plz do angst OR maybe enemies to lovers but reeealll enemies ther'es gotta be beeeffff

tension. jealousy. protectivness. what the hell. where is it.

thank u :3

Pairing: opla!Sanji x f!reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: canon-typical things, smoking, cursing, the Baratie, mentions of annoying/handsy costumers, RUSHED ending (sorry), etc.

A/N: Hello anon! Thank you so much for the request. I started a little sm sm based of this request and a couple similar ones. It's just a start, so let me know if I should turn this into something more/longer...I have ideas...COMMENTS ENCOURAGED. Enjoy.

PART II

You always preferred sailing on quiet nights.

Fewer lights from the ship scared the stars into submission. It was the only time your shoulders settled and your breaths became leveled. The air’s humidity wrapped you in warmth and the patterned waves lulled your racing thoughts. 

Yet, the lights of the Baratie reminded you that those idyllic nights remained only in memory, few and far between. The chatter radiated an aura, which functioned as a reminder of the never ending responsibilities of hospitality. 

Your dwindling cigarette marked the time left of your break, but you savored every second. You slouched into your shoulder, head resting softly to the side to acknowledge the footsteps approaching you. 

“Sanji.” Even with your back to your newly found company, you knew who had found you. He always had. “If Zeff sent you…” You drew in a deep and finalizing breath, the crackle satisfying in contrast. “Turn around and fuck off.” 

The breath of his laughter exposed his delight at your demise. “Your funeral—

“—Our.” You corrected him. Finally offering a glance, you saw he’d replaced his apron for a tie. Always trouble, you thought.

“Nah, you’ll be alright…” He tutted with humor. “Regardless, who can I count on to spit on my grave?”

You hummed to hide a semblance of a smile. Sanji’s charm was worthless to you, never working in his favor. It had taken years of coaxing past vindication to even occupy the same space. So as always, you’d removed yourself to create a more familiar distance. 

“Funny.” You only ever entertained him with sarcasm.  Flicking your butt into the darkness, you began to walk away. “Just don’t get in the way.” 

The night was busy—every night was busy. You hadn’t minded the adrenaline or the late hours. It was what kept you going, kept you from realizing that slowing down would never be an option. 

But then the constantly spinning world stopped. Your wrist was caught in the hand of a guest, the very one whose crude remarks failed to cause a reaction. However, your plastered smile only encouraged him. You became a challenge he hadn’t realized would eventually retaliate. 

It caused a scene, glass to be broken, and scolding from Zeff that echoed throughout the kitchen. Your pent up venom led you to an ultimatum; cool off or leave. Now, your headache dulled in comparison to the nausea you felt walking back in. 

Hearing your name you turned to see Sanji’s face illuminated with his lighter. His eyes were fixed on his task, but you knew he was speaking directly to you. “You’re alright, though? Right?”

It was happening more frequently than you’d like to admit; your sarcastic insult caught in your throat and your breath pinned to the roof of your mouth. Your words were lost. Sanji was responsible for the confusion of feelings and it only furthered your resentment. 

Yet, your voice was never found and so you nodded with promise. 

Instead, your wrist throbbed and you were sure by the end of the service the bruising would surface. But you rolled it as if the action could wash away the pain. You straightened your posture, pulled a practiced smile, and held a soft air as you began again greeting guests table by table. 

The people dining waited their turn just as those rubbing elbows with them. From the decor, the crystal, story of the menu, even you were a part of the experience.  Performance was key and you were nothing but stellar at pretending to be someone else. 

“Good evening—” You greeted.  Your voice could have been mistaken for sultry. Some nights you struggled to recognize yourself. “—I’ve noticed you’re back and your wine is getting low.”

“Always attentive, you.” The Baratie regular reveled in the banter. It was formulaic at this point, but the atmosphere captivated you both. 

“I can’t help but play favorites.” You countered, granting a heavy pour of wine into his glass. Your dress cut low, ever dip intentional to distract from the mountain of Berries owed for the aged wine provided. 

His eyes took in your figure, falling into the trap. “Apparently, I’ve got competition.”

You wanted to feel good, as you normally did. The fabric complimented your physique and kissed your skin with such sensuality. The feeling of hungry eyes on you never grew old. The assurance was always refreshing. However, there was a weight tonight that wasn’t the fault of the fabric.  

“Pirates can never resist treasure.” You pushed past the crack in your demeanor. You smiled wider, but your eyes cast down at your wrist hoping it didn’t reveal too much too soon.  

The bark of laughter almost made you flinch. “Not the filthy pirate! Your friend there—” The man continued, complaining about nonsense while raising his already dwindling glass to Sanji. “100 Berries he’s spit in my food.”

That swirl in your chest had just settled, but it returned as your eyes met Sanji’s.  His glare wasn’t shy, burning through you. Judgment about your pairing of wine, most likely. Regardless, you noted the fluidity in his movements pulled him closer to you. 

The man laughed at the slight staring contest. You internally cursed at breaking first. 

“He’s harmless.” You muttered, pouring another serving of wine. Moving your body kept you distracted from the unspoken. 

“Harmless?” The man scoffed, inebriation heavy in his inflection.“The scum of a pirate walked—well, crawled really—out of here with nothing but a bloody promise of a slow death.” 

You remained light and playful as you finished the conversation, distracting your regular enough to slip away. You made your rounds just as Sanji had, but you were clever to dance around him, avoid him. 

It worked at first, but it only aggravated Sanji. He spoke loudly and boldly about the well-known service, slipping in insults and intentionally sabotaging everything you’d just smoothed out. It may not have been intentional. It rarely was if you thought about it, his disappointment reserved for Zeff. 

It was as though Sanji had tunnel vision. His upset became yours conscious or not, as every complaint and move he made contradicted yours. It made you trip and stumble. It began to make the night agonizingly slow as he became the barrier between you and the end of the service.  

You’d boiled over, pulling harshly on his arm until you both crammed into a blindspot of the rest of the restaurant. 

Sanji’s eyes blew wide, but his smirk only widened. Even in his state of mild shock, his mind wandered. “What are you—  

You straightened his tie harshly, a threat. “Fix your attitude.” 

“Mine?” He countered with disbelief. “If Zeff understood—

“I don’t care about Zeff. I don’t care about you.” You hissed, pushing a finger deep into his chest. Slowly your composure was unraveling, but you regained it quickly, speaking pointedly, “What I care about is this night being over.”

Sanji took the beat of silence to look between your eyes. You were frazzled, your collectedness hanging on by a thread. He could guess why, but you’d never admit he was correct. 

“Are you even listening?” You prompted again, ready to move back with utter impatience. 

However, Sanji touched the wrist that was within distance causing your body to freeze.  “You need ice.”

His hold was gentle, but he felt the heat come from the swelling. The pain was catching up to you. 

“Enough.” You spat, wobbling with your steps backward. “Enough of—” Tonight, you wanted to say. The kindness threw you off, made you feel seen in a way you wouldn’t accept. “Just—

“We’ll finish the night smoothly.” Sanji spoke evenly, decidedly for the both of you. “Then, I’ll find ice for you.” 

Your chin raised for your childness to surface. “I can take care of myself.” 

“I have no doubt.” Sanji felt his emotions settle on his face, the smirk was hard to call on, but the air had become too tense not to with such unfamiliar territory. “But yet, If I don’t help you, you’ll milk it for weeks and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

[thetypingpup]

I need to talk more about my ideas on Golden Bengal Tiger hybrid! Hongjoong

When female lions and tigers are in heat they'll bite their mated male tigers or lions until they'll mate, as female lions and tigers are known to mate MULTIPLE times a day during heats. So even though he's a male, Hongjoong still has STAMINA

And at first he tries to persuade you into the bedroom by gentle asks, then it turns into him snuggling on you and trying to feel you up, then it turns into a heavy makeout session with him nipping love bites down your neck

Little breathy asks and begs sprinkled here and there too. Every so often he's like: "please? Baby please I need you so bad, it hurts how bad I need you."

But you know once he starts it's gonna be a long time before he stops

Ok but imagine him outright riding your thighs. He's been begging you for so long now, and you've been having fun seeing how desperate he can get. He's tried urging you to the bedroom, he's tried nuzzling your neck and pawing at your chest. It's not like he's not affecting you. The feeling of his lips on your neck and the subtle pain of his fangs nipping love bites onto your skin has had arousal sparking between your legs. But you want to see how far he'll go, and just how desperately he needs you. Your hand has only caressed the fur of his ears, never ventured lower, and the simple touch is enough to have his cock straining in his pants. 

Now he’s straddling your thigh, panting as he grinds down onto your leg. His ears lower as he quickly becomes overwhelmed, tail twitching every now and again. His heat has overtaken him so intensely that even rutting against your leg has him whimpering. The cool air emanating from the windows offsets the heat radiating off of him. You lean back against the cool glass, letting your hands trail up to his gyrating waist. He keens at this, leaning in close, his warm breath fanning out over the curve of your neck.

“Please…” He pleads right in your ear, “Please baby I need you. I need you so bad it hurts.”

“Aw, is that so, baby?” You tease, letting your hand sneak around to his ass. Your fingers toy with the fur at the base of his tail, stroking so softly your touch is nonexistent. His heightened senses and desperation has him attuned to everything you do, so even the feather light touch has him close to sobs.

“Please, I need more.” He chokes out the words on a labored breath, gripping your shoulders tighter, rutting more erratically as he tries to chase the sensation of your hand.

“What more do you need?” You hum, soothing your shaking hybrid with gentle pets along his tail, “Tell me exactly what you need.”

“I need you to touch me. Need you to fuck me. Need you to let me fuck you, anything you want.” A growl penetrates his tone, making his words sound rougher, and sending shivers down your spine.

“Ok baby, I’ll take care of you.” You promise, feeling your own breath quickening, “I’ll fuck you right into this ledge if you want.”

“Yes, please.” He purrs, hopping off your lap in an instant. In the next instant he’s spreading his legs, his tail curling in a come hither motion, inviting you between them. Your tongue slips out to wet your lips as you take in the sight of him, panting and desperate, wearing only his underwear, the fabric fully outlining his aching, throbbing cock.

You’re both in for a long afternoon.

[skipper1331]

A fling? // Felicitas Rauch

a/n: based off this request.

"Hello gorgeous" you said smiling. Your hand placed the loose strand of hair which had fallen in front of her face behind her ear as you memorized every feature of her face. She looked beautiful.

Feli blushed under your gaze, shyly looking away while she tried to control her breathing. "So, aside from taking my breath away, what do you do for a living?" you asked with a cheesy grin covering your face. The defender rolled her eyes, playfully pushing you away yet her heart racing.

The moment you joined Wolfsburg, there was the massive attraction towards the brunette and you tried to ask her out with your famous pick up lines but she just brushed them off. You kept trying though.

"Stay." you told her sternly, grabbing her wrist as she was about to walk to her team mates, "I didn’t know what I wanted in a woman until I saw you."

Again with a roll of her eyes, she brushed you off like you were a nothing. Even If you didn‘t want to admit it, your heart stung. Every time, every ignorance of your presence, every brush off, you heart broke a bit more.

-

You let out a scream of pain as Laura Freigang tackled you, your body flying over the pitch before you landed in the grass. Your shoulder made a weird noice, knees scraping along the dirty pitch.

Feli was the first by your side, shoving Laura away who tried to apologize. Your face was hidden in the grass as you held your shoulder, tears streaming down your face.

"Can you sit up for me?" Felicitas asked, herself getting anxious because the medic took so long. With a grunt, you did as she wished, holding your shoulder with a death grip. For sure, it wasn‘t the thing you should do but it was out of reflex, you had to put pressure on the pain.

"My shoulder" you said through gritted teeth, "it cracked"

The brunettes face went pale, did you really just said cracked?!

When the medics arrived, the defender felt a kind of relief knowing you were in safe hands yet seeing your face scrunch in pain hurt her too. "She‘s going off, right?!" she asked, panic radiating in her voice. "What? No!" you interrupted her, "just tape it or something!" you told the medic, about to get up. "Stay the fuck down!" You had never heard the German curse or so scared. As she squatted down, you locked eyes, "you‘re crying, your shoulder hurts, you‘re getting subbed off. You will accept it, thank the medics and do as they told. Understood?" Your mouth fell agape, so bossy. Nodding in respond, you let the medic take you of the pitch as he talked about your injury and pain.

As you sat in the physio room, there was an ice pack on your shoulder to prevent further swelling and you were high on painkillers, babbling about something without someone in the room.

When the final whistle blew, Feli immediately left the field, searching for you. "How are you?" she asked as she saw your laying figure. Looking up to see the prettiest girl, you gave her a lopsided smile. "I’m coooool" you answered, the defender smiling lightly.

"Come here" you mumbled, "do you happen to have a Band-Aid? ‘Cause I scraped my knees falling for you." giggling at your pick up line, you didn‘t see the way her cheek caught fire and burnt red.

-

You were ruled out for a few weeks due your shoulder injury yet that didn‘t stop you from flirting with your favorite german player.

"I would never play hide and seek with you because someone like you is impossible to find."

"Hm" like usually, she rolled her eyes, walking past you.

Yet the soft smile that she sent you across the field later on, made your heart skip multiple beats. Maybe there was still a chance even if her answers grew short by every day that went by.

"Why don‘t you tell her that you like her?" Svenja asked the young woman who she had known for years.

"I don’t like her" she replied instantly.

"So how did you know who I was talking about?"

Caught in her own excuse, she smiles shyly before settling into a thoughtful expression, "she‘s- i don‘t know" Feli shrugged, eyes looking away from you as you walked in the facility.

"I don‘t think she wants the same thing I want"

"Why‘s that?" the blonde asked as they started to pass the ball, absently.

"You know the reputation she has, always flirting with everybody and sleeping around. I don‘t want to be a one night stand"

In the meantime while Svenja talked to Feli about you, Alexandra talked to you about Feli.

The Og-german players watched you dance around your feelings, Felicitas with her obvious ignorance and you with your flirty nature. They both knew there was something between the two of you, but not how both of you would realize it, so they made a plan - at least to get you on the right track and provide some clarity.

"So Feli, huh?" Alex asked, smirking. You blushed under her intense gaze, looking to the ground as you played with your fingers, "she‘s pretty amazing, yeah" you admitted, for the first time ever.

"So are you gonna ask her out?"

Looking up, you answered, "I did once but she just brushed me off, like always" you mumbled the last past yet still audible for Alex who had a pitty look on her face, "will you ask again?"

"Probably not. I flirt with her all the time only to be ignored in the end" you sighed, your fingers holding the bridge of your nose, "i don‘t get it. Sometimes she makes me think that she likes me too and then nothing"

"Can you blame her? You had quite the reputation before you came here"

You looked at Poppi with shook in your eyes and disgust on your face, "does she really think that? That she’s a fling?" you hated yourself for your behaviour in your past, you knew someday it will haunt you down - like it would now.

For the first time in years, you fell in love, actually in love, and the girl you liked thought bad of you, that you would use her.

"Did she reject me because of that?"

The older woman saw the hurt flash in your eyes - something she shouldn’t see.

"I don‘t know. I didn‘t even know that you asked her out. But i know you‘re not the person you used to be. You‘re a good person."

-

Felicitas noticed the change instantly, how you wouldn‘t flirt with her anymore, how you didn‘t greet her with a pick up line, how you barely talked to her. She didn‘t ask you about it, she just accepted it.

Svenja and Alex quickly realized that they worsened the relationship between the two of you rather than helping you to realize the feelings behind each others facades.

-

As you were able to play again, the champions league match against Arsenal was the perfect opportunity to show that you’re back better than ever. The first leg ended in a 2-2 draw yet it felt awesome to be back on the pitch again and when you scored Feli couldn‘t help the pride that washed over her body. She knew you waited long for the come back.

"Looking stunning as always" the blonde defender of Arsenal greeted you as she hugged you. Leah Williamson and you go way back, knowing each other since you were little and playing together in the national team. She was the sister you never had, the shoulder to cry on when ever you felt like it. "Not bad yourself" you joked, walking around together, arms around each others waist.

Feli hated the sight in front of her, the way you would smile at the skipper or laugh at something she said. She should be at your side instead of Leah.

"You good?" Svenja asked as she saw the growl on the brunettes face.

"Everything is perfectly fine" she answered, sarcasm laced in her voice as her eyes were still drained on your walking figure. "Back at her old habits, just great" she scowled, leaving the pitch without looking back. She didn‘t take pictures with fans nor signed anything, anger rushing through her veins.

"What‘s wrong with her?" Leah asked as she saw your favorite girl walking with quick steps away.

"Don‘t know. We‘re not talking at the moment" you muttered.

"What?! Why? I thought you liked her"

"I do. She just thinks I’m-"

"She thinks she‘s gonna be a fling, right?"

"Jup"

"You’re so stupid sometimes" she smacked the back of your head, "show her that she isn‘t"

"I tried!"

"Not hard enough apparently. 10£ she thinks you‘re flirting with me"

You looked at the skipper, confusion written over your face, what did she mean?

"Go" she pushed you away, towards the tunnel, giving you a reassuring nod, "seriously go!"

And you did. You ran after the brunette, calling her name. In the changing room, she sat in her cubby, head resting in her hands. "Felicitas" you said, voice low, you didn‘t want to startle her.

Feli loved the way her name rolled over your tongue. You had never called her Feli once, always Felicitas. You were the only one besides her parents who were allowed to do that. "So you‘re talking to me, wow" the defender grumbled, aggressively wiping away the few tears that left her eyes.

"Don‘t be mean"

"Mean?! You‘re the one who ignored me for weeks" she yelled as she stood up.

Matching her tone, "I know!" you sighed, "I know, okay?"

"You’re an idiot!" Felis anger was bubbling out of her, "you’re an idiot for making me fall for you!" she continued to ramble about your behavior how stupid you were for ignoring her, for making her feel worthless.

"I didn‘t talk to you because you thought you’re a fling to me! I didn‘t want you to think that"

"So you‘re flirting with Williamson? That’s low, even for you"

"Why the fuck are putting words in my mouth?" you were pacing around the changing room, Feli following every movement of yours, "you- bloody hell, Felicitas! Why are you making this so hard?"

"I‘m making this hard?! You‘re the one-"

"Stop it right now. I didn‘t flirt with Leah, gosh ew. We‘ve known each other since god knows when. And I didn‘t flirt with anyone besides you since I’m at Wolfsburg. Hell, you’re the only one I want to flirt with. You’re the only who I want to think that I’m a good person - not the person from my past. Felicitas, you‘re that one person to me!" You sat down, not meeting her eyes as you tried to control your emotions and your outburst.

The moment you arrived in Germany, you wanted to change. You transferred clubs to get a new chance, to prove everyone wrong. You didn‘t mean to fall in love with someone, you didn’t mean to flirt with her like in your old patterns but you couldn’t help it. With Feli everything felt different. Everything felt easy, you felt at peace. Wolfsburg felt like a new home. She felt like home.

"You‘re in love with me, too? It‘s not some weird-"

"Of course I am!" you interrupted her, making your statement clear. "How can I show you that I mean it? That I mean everything when I’m with you?" you asked with pleading eyes, eyes full of hope and regret.

"Take me out on a date" even after yelling, crying and running for more than 90 minutes, she looked absolutely breathtaking. It was a good thing that you were sitting otherwise you‘re knees would‘ve betrayed you.

"Deal"

In that moment, you promised yourself to treat her better than anyone could.

-

It didn‘t take Feli long to realize that you meant what you said that day in the locker room. The few little dates you had were more than perfect, you treated Felicitas like you promised and the way she deserved. Both of you seemed happier with each other and at Champions league final -1, you asked her to be your girlfriend.

Your heart fluttered every time you thought about the answer, "yes"

Maybe your past wasn‘t the greatest but the universe did give you another chance which you gladly accepted.

You showed the world that you deserved it.

You showed football fans all of your talent, getting nominated for the Ballon d‘or.

You showed your family and friends the vulnerable, caring and loving side of yourself.

And you showed Felicitas that she did the right thing with saying yes to be your girlfriend.

Felicitas was the one person that changed you for the better and you will thank and love her forever because of everything and more.

She was always more than just a fling.

————————