#i can't even remember what tag I said I'd use

[alulaspeaks]

Abandoned WIP: Into the Fade

Big Idea: Gencest, maybe background wincest. It was going to be an atmospheric piece with a nebulous enemy. Something’s got a grip on Sam, slipping into the quiet spaces where he’s sort of functioning on autopilot and trying to take him somewhere. They were never going to figure out what or why or where, and only going to be mostly sure they broke its hold at the end.

Why it was abandoned: I got about 2k in and I didn’t feel like I was pulling it off. It was kind of boring, plus the show did it better in season 7 with Hallucifer. Also, the opening scene which will be the snippet below, relied on a character that would not exist in real life. What gas station/convenience store attendant would actually do what I had written for some rando (and how many gas stations have pie???)? In the end, it felt like it didn’t really have anything to say, and I had another idea I liked better that was going to have this unknown force/ambiguous resolution. So I thought I should save my energy for that.

Snippet:

Sam steps into the gas station, rubbing absently at the crick in his neck. The bell chimes as the door swings closed and the clerk behind the counter looks up from her magazine. She’s in her fifties, and her eyes crinkle when she smiles at Sam. Sam smiles back and wanders through the isles, grabbing a few snacks as he goes. Dean will want something when Sam gets back to the bunker, acts martyred if Sam doesn’t bring him something good.

Sam grins when he spots the little triangular boxes next to the counter. Pie will win him all sorts of leeway for being late. There are whole pies and slices in apple and cherry. Sam grabs a slice of cherry because there is no way he’s bringing Dean a whole one. He’d eat it in one sitting. Sam smiles at the clerk as he loads up the counter. Her name tag says Mabel, and she’s got a warm smile.

“Find everything you need?” She asks.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Sam says.

He rubs at the back of his neck, looks around as she starts ringing up his purchases. He better grab something for Dean so he doesn’t complain about Sam being late. He spots the display of pies and grins as he grabs a slice and adds it to his pile.

The clerk smiles when Sam sets it on the counter. “Best pies in the county. We get ‘em from the diner down the way.” She nods to the display next to the counter.

There are whole pies and slices and Sam grabs a slice of cherry and sets it on the counter. Dean will love that.

“You know,” the clerk says, her name tag says Mabel, “it’ll be cheaper to buy the whole pie.”

Sam frowns and reaches for his slice of pie to check the price, but there are three little triangular boxes on the counter. Sam only remembers grabbing the one. “No, I…” Sam trails off, hand hovering over the containers.

“You all right?” Mabel asks, looking from the pie back to Sam. She offers him a tentative smile, the corners of her mouth tight with concern. “You look awful tired.”

“It’s been a long couple of days,” Sam says and tries to smile back. “I’ll just take the one slice.” He lets Mabel put the extra slices back, keeps his own eyes averted from the display, tries not to acknowledge the feeling that something awful is waiting for him in the shadows at the back of his mind.

He pays with cash and heads outside, fishing for the keys in his pocket. When he gets out into the lot, he freezes, plastic bag crinkling as it thumps against his thigh. He’s expecting the Impala, but it’s nowhere to be seen, and that awful something creeps a little closer. Sam looks down at the keys in his hand and his stomach twists because these aren’t the Impala’s keys. He scans the lot again but he doesn’t recognize any of the cars, doesn’t even recognize the lot, or the countryside. A formless need to move skitters up his spine and Sam’s breath comes in quick, shallow bursts as his heart starts to race. This isn’t even Lebanon.

But it is painfully familiar: wrong keys, wrong car, and no idea how he got here. Sam swallows, tries to keep his head on straight and breathes through the sick twist of dread that leadens his stomach. He’s survived this before and he can do it again, he can. He needs to keep grounded, he needs to talk to Dean. He nearly fumbles his phone as he pulls it from his pocket and thumbs on the screen.

At first he thinks his phone is broken, the screen an incomprehensible jumble of color, but he runs his fingers over the glass and there are no cracks. He looks back over his shoulder at the TV screen over the convenience store counter where Mabel is watching him, and it seems fine. It’s only his phone. His fist clenches around his phone and he turns it off and on again. It doesn’t get better. He can’t even tell where the icons are, can’t even bring up the phone app to use his speed dial.

The bell over the door rings and Mabel steps up beside him, she glances at him then turns to look out over the lot. Sam keeps staring down at his phone waiting for it to make sense, but it doesn’t. Sweat breaks out along the back of Sam’s neck, a flush burning up in his cheeks, and he squeezes his eyes against the sting of shame. He’s as helpless as a child. Worse than a child because he ought to be better than this and now he can’t even use his own phone.

Mabel lays her hand in the crook of Sam’s elbow and waits. Sam looks at her then, and the patience in her eyes calms something in him.

“Where are we?” Sam asks.

“Hamburg.” Mabel’s expression doesn’t change, still that same quiet patience, even when she sees the blank look on Sam’s face. “Iowa.”

“Ok,” Sam says, nodding to himself even as he presses his mouth into a thin line. He holds his phone out to Mabel, “I need to call my brother.”

[bumblingbabooshka]

Archery Science Professor at the Vulcan Institute of Defensive Arts [Patreon | Commissions]

[brynnmclean]

saw a post questioning shipping Senua and Thórgestr and started to reblog it with a tag novel-- felt weird about doing that since this is lengthy and potentially derailing, so making my own post instead. Spitballing under the cut:

First off, any time someone is like, "the real reason people ship this is because they find the dude attractive," this is SO funny to me as someone who doesn't find men attractive IRL and has fiercely loved Senua since I played the first game, like-- actually I find the dynamic between those two characters to be compelling and interesting precisely because of all the baggage between them re: their backgrounds, the rough (put mildly!) beginning of their relationship, all the things they don't talk about, and them finding a common enemy/common ground to work with. The explicit parallels between them stated in-game scratched an itch in my brain. The minute they pointed out the dark rot on his arm, it was like, "oh! hello there! NOW I'm interested in whatever your whole deal is" for me. Also, idk man, I too would follow Senua around after she knocked me into the dirt and then showed me a way to fight the giants that I very much wanted to fight instead of appease.

The idea that Thórgestr was part of the Orkney Raid that killed and mutilated Dillion is VERY interesting food for thought, even if I don't personally have that headcanon (surely there are more viking raiding groups than just the Bjorg). I think the Furies or the Shadow said something similar about Fargrimr (his kin murdered yours, you shouldn't save him, etc.) so I completely get that line of thought, but I think the game left it ambiguous enough that it's up for interpretation. Would I read fic with that premise? Yeah, I'd check that out. Could Senua forgive Thorgestr if his people were involved? Sounds fun to explore.

If (ha, when?) I write fic, I'd have to think more about it especially wrt timelines, like when did the Bjorg start specifically raiding for slaves for giant food sacrifices vs. killing people for resources and wealth? How far off are we from the old gods "dying" and the volcano erupting? Was it indeed a different group of raiders who made a deal with Zynbel, attacked Senua's home, and made the sacrifice at that time to Hela?

At the very least, I think there's a time jump between the end of Hellblade I and the beginning of Hellblade II since Senua wasn't alone on that slave ship and at least one of the (brief) survivors knew her by name. I wouldn't mind exploring that gap of time, too.

In any case I do agree that it would take a VERY long time for Senua to consciously catch feelings for anyone let alone Thorgestr with all their collective baggage. The idea of them having a relationship beyond friendship in the far off future of an AU where he survives is the only one that can make sense in my brain, personally. It would take time! Time they didn't get in the game! But I think there are a lot of different roads that could take, and some of them might be healthier than others. Shipping them certainly isn't forgetting or excusing what happened to Dillion-- or even mutually exclusive from still shipping Senua and Dillion. Or, frankly, also shipping Senua and Astridr, because I can see that ship too.

One of the nice things about all the details Ninja Theory didn't expand upon and that they left that ending so open is that the sky's the limit. I'm VERY interested in seeing fandom tackle this game as we get farther from the initial release.

[frogfacey]

I hate to be like. That Guy who rolls up like heyy are you the Frogfacey of Tma band au from 2020(?) entitled Bizarre Love Triangle fame. I went back to look for the fic bc I wanted to do some fanart but couldn’t find it and was like. Oh Dear. Its one of if not my favorite fic of all time & I guess this is all to ask if 1) you’d accept fanart or it and 2) if there’s any way to get an archive or pdf copy? I adore it and miss it so dearly </3

And if you aren’t that same author I am apologizing profusely I hope you have a nice day / night and disregard this completely

rest of ask -> (*got the year totally off base. 2022 I believe :’) again i am so sorry about this whole deal, I hope you’re doing well regardless and if it is in fact your writing you’re insanely skilled + I adore the way you characterized everyone in it! Tma goths in an awful little band is in fact the best way for things to go.

Also I am happy to message off anon to talk about this I just didn’t want to like. Throw my full weight at potentially the wrong person so to speak </3)

OMG yeah hi thats me! I deleted it lichrally just bc I haven't felt like writing in a whole like two years and it was making me have unkind feelings towards mine previous writing and I felt bad about having a perpetually unfinished fic sitting on the 'net when I had a whole planning document dedicated to it lol (said document says that it was conceived of in 2021 but idk if thats when I posted it). As of lichrally three seconds after I've finished writing this sentence its been put back up! :^D also I started relistening to the magnus archives a few weeks ago so I'm probs going to continue writing it I can like tell u the rest of the plot outline if u want. ripley frogfacey the magnus archives throuple fanfic lore

also yeasyeas I shall cry u may make fanart! I'm still very fond of it I have some of my own doodles relating to it somewhere that I might add to the fic upon reupload. watch this space and all. As a sidenote my hashtag fandom related sideblog is @podgemod which I am presently not that active on but that may change.

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Listening to some Just Rolled With It stuff while I'm cooking, and I got to the episode (#65) where randomly they all start sharing small compliments they've received from strangers that they've carried with them for the rest of their lives and meant a lot to them and I'm like :(

It makes me a little sad to hear, especially since I know dudes in particular (at least here in the US / my region) don't typically receive tons of compliments.

[finniestoncrane]

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

“I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”

[flowersandbigteeth]

Looking for a saucy medieval tradition to weave into your historical romances? Have no fear, foot-of-the-gallows marriage is here! Basically, if a man was about to be hanged and a woman stepped forward and said “I will marry this man!” he was spared because it was was seen as like “oh, she’ll rehabilitate him so we don’t have to kill him.” Now, I heard this from tiktok, so I could be wrong, and it could just be a folk tale or something that rarely happened in actuality. Either way, it’s a cool troupe I think more people should use (and I myself will be using). I think it would work really well with Orcs and Elves!

This is such an intriguing idea! I had to try it. If you end up writing it, tag me, if you are comfortable! I'd love to see what you do with it ^_^

I keep getting Orc ideas, and I can't resist them *feral invasive Orc thoughts* （￣ ｗ￣）Ψ

Orc (Saber) x GN elf reader

Word Count: 6K

TW: discussion of hanging, bad mother, sfw Orc fluff, a bit of melancholy with a happy ending, nonsexual mention of private body parts in the context of bathing

“Goodness, what’s this all about?” you grumbled, clutching your basket closer to you as you made your way through the crowd. 

The stench of rotten vegetables and too many people lingered in the air. 

“It’s a hanging,” a helpful imp beamed, hopping on his tiptoes to see over the crowd. Why people gathered all around to watch someone die, you had no idea, but more importantly, the crowd was blocking your path home. Industrious vendors selling ale and popcorn wove through the throng to collect what coins they could from the event. In the capital, everyone had a hustle, and few left the chance to make some money at the table. 

“Out of the way!” You shouted, shouldering whoever was unlucky enough to be in your way. 

The voice of the city guardsman who was reading off a list of offenses to the crowd drowned yours out, but with a few well-placed shoves, you managed to make it to the front. You were looking around, trying to figure out how to get across the plaza, when you glanced up to see a familiar face. 

“It’s you!” you blurted as your eyes locked with the brilliant chartreuse irises of the Orc standing on the gallows. 

He gave you a wan smile, lifting his tied hands to wave at you. His straight nose was up in the air as if all the rabble around him should be fortunate to have the privilege of watching him die. The thick olive locs you remembered being long had been roughly chopped short around his ears. Still, even dressed in an ill-fitting prison jumpsuit, he had a regal air about him. His barrel chest was puffed, strong muscles peaking between the frayed fabric. 

“Fifty counts of robbery…25 counts of counterfeiting gold coins…seven counts of horse theft…”

The Orc you’d met before’s name was Saber. He’d helped you get your broken cart into town one rainy afternoon…, and then he’d also stolen your necklace, which you’d realized after he’d disappeared. 

“As per the King’s edict, If any citizen pledges to save this soul from the gallows by way of marriage, please step forth.” 

Though he was handsome, no one raised their hands to save him. Instead, they all booed. Judging by the rotten vegetables hurled at him, he seemed to have robbed almost everyone in the capital. 

“Aye!” you shouted, hiking up your pants to pull yourself onto the stage. 

The guardsmen’s eyebrows shot up when you’d straightened yourself.

“I’ll marry the sorry bastard.” 

“Are you sure? He’ll most likely rob you and run off. He’s better off dead.” 

“I have business with this one,” you informed him, snapping your fingers. “Come on then. Let’s get this over with.” 

The guardsman shrugged and jerked the noose off of his neck, a little disappointed. The crowd wasn’t happy either, hurling insults along with their vegetables. 

“Quiet! Quiet!” the guardsman shouted after shoving Saber forward for the “ceremony.”

He took a deep breath, jerking a notebook out of his pocket.

“Alright,” he began, snorting. “State your name for the record.” 

“(Y/N).”

“Lovely elven name,” he murmured as he jotted it down. “Now then, do you (Y/N) take this here, criminal, Saber Wintermaple to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

You gave him a sharp nod. 

“I do.” 

He swung a lazy eye at Saber. 

“Do you Saber Wintermaple, take this kind elf to be your betrothed?” 

He gave you a bright smile. 

“I do.” 

The guardsman snapped the book closed, shoving Saber towards you. 

“I hereby declare you two duly betrothed under the King’s law. This Orc is your problem now, citizen. You’d better keep him out of trouble, or you’ll be up here next to him!”

He handed you the thick rope looped around the binding, keeping Saber’s hands tied, and waved you two off. The audience, bored without bloodshed, had already started dispersing, making it easy for you to tug Saber towards the road leading to the forest. 

“I didn’t know I made such a pleasant impression,” Saber said cheerfully, following you out of town.

You whirled around and jammed a finger in his face. 

“I wouldn’t describe it as pleasant. You owe me a gold necklace! Give it back, or you can work off the coin you owe me!” 

He chuckled.

“I’m fresh out of coins, little elf.” 

He scratched his chin and looked up, thinking. 

“I’m pretty sure I lost that necklace in a game of dice.” 

He shrugged. 

“You lost my only possession of any value in a game of dice?” 

You scrubbed your hand over your face, counting back from ten so you didn’t explode.  

“Maybe I should have let you die.”

Frowning, you looked over him from toe to head. 

“At least you look strong enough. I’m sure I can find something useful for you to do!” 

You stopped where the two of you stood in the middle of the trail and pulled a small charm from your basket. 

“I was going to use this on my coin purse since there was a thief on the loose, but it’s probably better applied to you!” 

You looped the charm around his neck, closing your eyes to whisper the spell. A gust of spirit wind, fluffed your hair as the magic twirled around Saber. When you opened your eyes again, there was a blue thread linking the two of you that only you could see. 

“What was that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on you. 

“It’s a binding spell, so you can’t run off with my stuff again,” you explained.

His eyebrows jumped, and he tugged at the little talisman around his neck. 

“It won’t come off.” 

You nodded proudly. 

“Exactly.”

He took a moment to examine you carefully, tapping his chin again. 

“Interesting,” he murmured.  

“What? What does that mean?” 

He smiled and shrugged.

“Lead the way, spouse.” 

You sighed, turning and pulling him through the bumpy trail in the woods to your little home. When you’d fled your homeland to the Capital, you’d been lucky to find an abandoned cottage outside the city walls. It wasn’t massive, with only the basic living quarters, but it must have at some point belonged to someone’s Saber’s size, as the door and counters were much too high. You’d spent much of the money you earned selling charms and ointments, buying stools and ladders to reach things. 

“You poor thing,” Saber sighed as you passed through the magic barrier you’d cast to keep your home hidden from bandits.

“You don’t need to patronize me,” you huffed. “You’re the one almost hanged and run out of town.” 

He ignored you, looking around. 

“I feel kind of bad for stealing your necklace now that I’ve seen where you live. This place is a mess.” 

You examined your home, trying to see it through his eyes. Every available surface was covered in books, alchemy equipment, or ingredients. Even the chairs were covered in cast-off scrolls, books, or charms. 

“It’d be nice to have a workshop,” you admitted. “But that’s much too expensive.”

You straightened your slumping shoulders and lifted your chin. 

“No matter, you won’t be spending much time sitting down. I’ve got loads of things that need doing.” 

He gave you a sharp nod and held out his hands. 

“You’ll have to untie me if you want me to work.” 

Pulling a small blade from your basket, you sawed through the thick binding. Free to move as he pleased, he wrung his stiff wrists as he perused your living room. Occasionally he would pick something up, then put it down again, finally crouching to examine a bucket filled with water. 

“What are you doing?” 

He peered up at the leak in the roof that was letting rainwater drip through. 

“This needs fixing, or the roof will rot out.”

Pushing off of his knees, he turned to you. 

“How long have you been living alone?” 

You blushed, embarrassed. 

“I dunno, my whole life, I guess. The elven town where I came from didn’t have an orphanage or anything, so when I was old enough, I took off toward the capital. It took a while to get here…but here I am. I thought there would be more…I don’t know…opportunity here.” 

“How has that worked out for you? Living in a house clearly not meant for you and marrying a man on the gallows.” 

You gave him an indignant snuff. 

“At least I’m not a thief!” 

He chuckled, leaning against a bookshelf, rolling a gold coin on his knuckles. Your eyes narrowed on it, and you reached in your pocket to find you’d been relieved of your day’s earnings. 

“Hey! You stole that!” 

He laughed, revealing straight white teeth, and jingled the other coins in his pocket. 

“Don’t worry, I can’t get away with it, right?” 

You sucked in a deep annoyed breath. 

“I have things to do. Make yourself useful and chop some wood. It’s going to be cold when the sun sets.” 

“Whatever you say, spouse,” he replied, giving you a sarcastic salute as you dropped your basket and hurried to the kitchen to get started on dinner. 

What had you been thinking marrying a criminal? You paused for a moment, eyes growing misty. You didn’t really think he still had your necklace, did you? You let out a sigh just short of a sob. Were you really that lonely? Maybe it hurt that he’d been so kind to you, just to trick you. You should have been happy to see him hanged, yet the lingering magic that followed all elves had whispered that you ought to save him. 

But why? You weren’t in any position to support a husband. Though you’d instructed yourself on the knowledge of various potions and charms, you weren’t the only one. The city was teaming with Academy-bred alchemists who far surpassed your skill. They had access to rare ingredients and an army of assistants. You had to scrape out a living selling your wares far cheaper than the competition even to get noticed at the market. Hustling day to day, you certainly didn’t have the time or money to pretty yourself up to find a partner. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you grumbled, returning to chopping tubers for soup. 

A thick THWACK, drew your eyes out the kitchen window to Saber splitting logs across the lawn. He’d divested himself of his ratty shirt, and every thick muscle was on display as he lifted the ax over his head and dropped it down again. The logs felt apart like they were nothing more than twigs under his might. 

Your eye focused on the dark, wet slashes across his shoulder blades where his jailors had beaten him. He must have felt your eyes on him because he glanced up and waved. Blushing, you hurriedly pulled the curtains, returning to your task. 

Unable to get his injuries out of your mind, you felt bad for making him chop wood while he was hurt. When you’d plopped the tubers into your cooking pot, you gathered up some healing and numbing salves, making your way out the door. 

“Need something?” he asked, looking up from his task. 

“Sit down,” you barked. 

A thick eyebrow rose, and he tipped his head. 

“Why? Planning on lobbing my head off?” 

You wrinkled your nose at him. 

“No, of course not! You’re massive. How would I even go about burying your body? I can’t have a rotting corpse stinking up the place. Just sit!” 

He leaned his axe against the stump he was using to brace the wood and sat down on it. You dug in your basket, pulling out some cleanser to clean the wounds. Beside the big ugly gashes, Saber’s skin was a smooth, pretty green, the planes of his muscles sharp and defined. The first brush of your hand on his back made him jump. 

“S-sorry,” you muttered.

“‘Ts fine. Just not used to people touching me. Go on.” 

You spread the thick gel you used carefully over each angry line. 

“What do you mean? You’ve never had a partner before me?” 

He paused for a moment before he jerked his head. 

“I had a girlfriend once, but she left me.” 

“Why?” 

“Some noble offered her his hand and well…I couldn’t compete.”

He sighed. 

“She was happy to keep me on as her side piece, but I’ve got too much of an ego to be someone’s toy.” 

Your eyebrows jumped at his candor, but you just hummed, plastering clean wraps to his skin so the wounds could heal. His skin was warm under your fingers, making the tips tingle. When you were done, you found yourself tipping forward on your toes to peck the back of his neck. When you’d realized what you’d done, your ears burned, and you coughed loudly. 

“Sorry, ah…sorry,” you muttered, unsure what to say. “You’re…ah…going to have to sleep on your stomach, so you don’t make these worse.” 

He swiveled around to look at you, smiling. 

“Thanks, doc!”

“I’m not a doctor.” 

He shrugged. 

“What’s the difference?” 

“Ten years of special-”

You shook your head, realizing he was teasing you.

“I think that’s enough wood for tonight. Come inside. Dinner’s almost ready.” 

He grinned at you, his stomach grumbling, as he scooped up some of the wood he’d cut and tucked it under one arm. You wondered how much they let him eat in prison, worried he was starving. 

“What’d my sweet little spouse cook for me?” he asked. 

“Just some sweet potato soup. It’s not gourmet.” 

He frowned. 

“No meat?” 

You blinked at him. 

“You have all the money I made today in your pocket. How can I afford meat with those few coins?” 

He nodded, appearing to be thinking through the problem thoroughly. 

When you returned inside, you dipped the two of you bowls of soup, filling his twice as much as yours. You assured yourself it was because he couldn’t work without proper nutrition, not because you liked him. 

“So how far does this magic thingie let me go?” he asked as you sat down at the table. 

“Why, trying to run off?” 

He smirked. 

“No, why would I want to run away from you?” 

He chewed on a big spoonful of sweet potatoes before he continued. 

“I’ve got a cute little spouse who makes me dinner and kisses my cuts.” 

Your cheeks blew up in flames, and you choked on a mouthful of soup. You tried to retain your composure by quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin. 

“A couple of miles in any direction.” 

“Wow, didn’t think you’d give me such a long leash.” 

You shrugged. 

“I can’t be right at your side every minute.” 

He gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. 

“You don’t want me by your side every minute of the day?” 

Unsure if he was joking or not, you jerked your spoon at his soup. 

“Let’s…stop talking for a while. Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 

While the two of you ate quietly, you did your best to keep your eyes on your bowl. Every time you happened to glance up, he was watching you with an odd smile on his face. Almost like satisfaction. 

You were relieved when you finally finished and could turn your back on him to rinse the dishes. 

“You can take the bed if you want,” you called over your shoulder as you stood on your tip toes to return the bowls to the cabinet. As your arm stretched, Saber appeared behind you, plucking the dishes out of your hand and easily placing them where they were supposed to go. 

“Where are you going to sleep?” he asked, extending a hand to help you off of the little ladder you were perched on. 

“There’s a couch in the living room.” 

He wrinkled his nose. 

“It’s covered in stuff.” 

You shrugged, trying to hurry past him. 

“I’ll clean it up.”

You found your feet swinging in the air as he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” 

“My spouse is not sleeping on the sofa. I never thought I’d have a spouse, so I’ve got to take proper care of you.” 

He patted your butt for emphasis. 

“Are you crazy?” you snapped, only not banging on his back with your fists because he was injured. “We can’t sleep together! We just met!” 

Your body bounced on his shoulder as he chuckled. 

“You weren’t concerned with that when you insisted on marrying me!” 

“They were going to kill you!” 

He flopped you down on your bed, caging you in with his big arms. His head dipped to drag the tip of his nose along the length of your neck. 

“So you do like me!” he whispered into your skin. 

“I do not,” you huffed, pushing his chest.

Though your muscles did nothing to move him, he rose so you could scoot out across the bed. You quickly scrambled into the bathroom to change into your pajamas. 

When you came back out, Saber was slipping off his pants. 

“What are you doing now?” You gasped, cheeks heating at the sight of the thick shaft hanging between his legs.  

He glanced up, a slight smirk on his face as he folded his clothes. 

“I can't sleep in these prison clothes. I'll get the sheets all dirty!” 

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. He was right. He was filthy from sleeping on dirty straw in prison. 

“Come on,” you said, flicking two fingers at him. “You need a bath. You’re probably covered in fleas! 

Fortunately, your house came equipped with one large enough to fit Saber’s big body. With a flick of your fingers, the tub was filled, and with a few whispers of a spell, the water was hot. 

“Get in,” you said. 

Making himself comfortable, he looked back at you over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. 

“You tryin’ to watch? Naughty little elf!” 

You let out a long sigh. 

“No, I’m just going to ensure you don’t get your bandages wet, or it will all have been a waste. Supplies are expensive,” you huffed, picking up the sponge. “Now, sit still!”

Saber smirked but let you lift each of his arms as you scrubbed him. 

“So how did your old girlfriend take it when you decided you wouldn’t be your affair partner?”

He glanced at you, eyes ever thoughtful. His long look brought heat to your cheeks. 

“Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” 

He shrugged, his jaw tightening. 

“She was rather smug. She spent her whole life wishing to elevate herself.” 

A long sigh slipped past his lips. 

“I could never make her happy. I lied, cheated, stole; whatever I could do…but she looked down her nose at all of it.”

Your mouth fell open. 

“I’m…I’m sorry. You don’t have to…”

He waved a thick hand, his warm palm gently landing on your head and lightly ruffling your hair. 

“Think nothing of it. It’s kind of nice to get it off my chest.” 

“So that’s why you're a crook? To make her happy?”

He smirked. 

“I was a crook. Now I’m a married man. I can’t get into trouble. I have a spouse who relies on me.” 

He pinched your chin. 

“Prison was difficult enough without knowing I was missing out on such a cute little face. Now, it would crush me.” 

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you jerked your head away, grabbing the nearest towel and tossing it to him. 

“Careful, don’t jostle your bandages,” you wheezed before making your escape. “Whoever lived here before left some clothes in the chest by the door. They ought to fit.” 

You were so busy slowing your beating heart that you blew out the lantern and slid into your bed without thinking Saber would soon follow. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to feign sleep, when you heard his heavy footsteps approach. He paused for a moment, doing Goddess knows what, before he carefully laid down next to you. 

The mattress dipped under his weight, and your body slid into his. You heard him draw in a sharp breath as your warm forms pressed together. 

“Mind your wounds. Make sure you sleep on your side,” you whispered into the darkness. 

You felt him adjust slightly, and then a heavy arm draped over your waist. Despite yourself, it was warm and the weight felt nice. Comforting. Now that he’d used your soap, he smelled like home. His breath brushed the hairs on your neck and another arm slid underneath you to use as a pillow. You would have pulled away, but you’d never slept so close to someone before. 

Living on the street for most of your life, left you with scars. You didn’t realize how deep they’d cut you until Saber’s large body curled around yours. You felt safe. 

When you woke the next morning, the bed next to you was empty. Your heart thumped heavily in your chest, wondering where he’d gone. Had it all been a dream? 

The pile of dirty prison clothes folded and placed on top of a chest proved that it had not. 

Breathing slowly, in the meditation you’d taught yourself, you stretched your awareness out, reaching for the blue thread. Saber was half a mile from you. You wondered what he could possibly be doing. 

“Orc things, probably,” you muttered, making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up. 

It wasn’t like he could run off; there was nothing in that direction but trees. Through the window, you could see the sun up over the tree line, telling you that you’d slept much later than usual. 

Usually, you’d have left at sunrise to sell your wares in the Capital market, but it was far too late now. Instead, you grabbed an apple from the kitchen and started fussing with your alchemy materials. Now that Saber was living with you, you were sure you needed to straighten up so he didn’t break something. 

Walking across the room, you automatically skipped around the bucket on the floor; only the bucket was gone. You frowned, but looking at the ceiling, someone had replaced one of the boards with a fresh one. Had Saber done that while you were sleeping? 

You huffed, returning to straightening your books. At least he’s putting himself to work. 

You were trying to remember the order in which a pair of books written in ancient elven were arranged alphabetically when the bell above your door jingled. 

Since your home was hidden with magic, the bell told you someone was nearby. It was a charm you rarely used. No one had any reason to look for you. The most it had rung was when you ordered a special cauldron or tomb and happened to have the cash to have it delivered. 

Curious if a traveler was lost, you put your books down and wandered outside. 

“Morning, spouse!” 

Saber’s voice made you jump when he appeared hauling a deer on his shoulders. 

“What’s that?” 

He shrugged the creature off of his shoulders. 

“Meat!” he announced proudly. 

You nodded at him, your eyes catching on his bare chest, glazed with a sheen of sweat. 

“Where are you off to?” he asked. 

“Someone is here,” you murmured, forcing your gaze from the sharp planes of his muscles to continue down the path. 

A shadow draped over you, and you glanced up to see him looming. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m going with you. It could be someone dangerous.” 

You shook your head but continued on your way with him in tow. 

“Helloooo? Helllloooo?” 

A female voice was screaming through the trees. When you rounded the bend, your eyes landed on an expensive carriage and a beautiful fairy shouting at the top of her lungs.  Her pink hair fell in glittering curls around her shoulders, and matching wings emerged from her back.

“Damn it! Saber! Where the fuck are you?” 

“Can I help you?” you asked as you stepped through your magic barrier. 

Her eyes narrowed, but not on you. She looked directly behind you. 

“Saber! There you are!” 

She grinned, fluttering her winds and flying past you. Irritation immediately pricked your heart as the woman threw her arms around him. Turning around, you found him looking at her with wide eyes. 

“Melody…what are you doing here? How did you find me?” 

“I’m here to see you, of course. I heard you were going to be hung, but an elf saved you! I asked around the market and was told you’d been taken here. I was so worried!” 

When she cupped his chin with her delicate hand, you crossed your arms, eyes narrowing. 

“Not someone. Me.” you interjected. 

You marched towards Saber and grabbed him by the arm. 

“Saber is my husband. Who are you?” 

She wrinkled her nose at you, ignoring your question. Her hand slid down Saber’s chest despite you. 

“Is there someplace we can talk? Privately?” 

Saber’s shocked face tightened. 

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate ask in front of my spouse, Melody.” 

She scoffed. 

“You’ve been married…what? 8 hours? Saber, I think I more than deserve a little of your time. Especially as the mother of your child.” 

Your jaw dropped, and your hand pulled away from Saber. It was true, you’d only known him for a few hours, but a child was something he ought to have mentioned. 

His brow drew, looking between you and her. 

“What child?” 

She huffed, frowning at you. 

“Fine…If you must do this, this way.” 

She turned to the carriage and yelled. 

“Nora, bring the baby!” 

A maid climbed out of the carriage holding a small whimpering bundle. You gasped as the woman presented Saber with a little green newborn. 

Saber’s eyes popped, his mouth opening and closing as the maid pressed the child into his hands. 

“This…he…is mine?” 

Melody nodded. 

“Yes, and it’s time for you to take responsibility.” 

He glanced up at her. 

“You want to get back together?” 

She let out a cruel but trilling laugh. 

“Oh heavens no. I need you to take him. Dante hasn’t seen him yet. He thinks I’ve delivered his child. I had the maids tell him I was recovering for the past month so I could sneak him out. If he finds out I’ve been carrying your baby this whole time, he’ll throw me out on the street!” 

Anger roiled under your skin. 

“So what baby are you going to present to him?” you demanded. 

She snorted as if that were a foolish question. 

“I’ll get a baby from the slums. Plenty of mothers would happily give their child the life of a Lord’s son without question.”

She fluttered her iridescent wings. 

“It only need be a fairy child.” 

You could see the pain and confusion settle on Saber’s face. Stepping between the two of them, you gently pried the bundle out of Saber’s hands, looking at his cute little button nose and glossy baby curls. 

“Of course, we will take him, but on one condition.” 

She glanced at you. 

“What do you want? Money?”

You let out a tight chuff. 

“No. We never want to see you again. If he is our baby, he is ours. Don’t think you can change your mind and come running back here looking for him or Saber. The second you step foot in your carriage, this child and my husband are dead to you.” 

Her eyes jerked to Saber. 

“Saber. You can’t mean that. Of course, I want to see you…Dante, however, can’t know. You understand, don't you? This is everything we've dreamed about! You ought to support me!"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"I grew up in the gutter, too," you hissed. "But I'd never treat someone the way you have treated my husband. He is too good for you and I won't tolerate you buzzing around us like a nasty fly."

She glared at you.

"He's my child! You're just jealous Saber and I have history!"

Saber's jaw locked, and he put his arm around you, giving her a disgusted grimace. 

“Have you named him?” he asked. 

She looked contrite but lifted her chin. 

“I…ah…it didn’t occur to me...” 

He nodded and glanced down at you, holding his child. 

“Then…I agree with (Y/N). You’ll never know his name. You’ll never see him grow. You’ll never return to ruin our peace.” 

“But Saber-” 

“Don’t say my husband’s name, either.” you snapped. “You thought you’d come here and drop all of your responsibilities in his lap and then keep stringing him along as a toy? It’s not going to work like that. You have your family, and we have ours.” 

You jerked your chin at her. 

“Make your choice. Either leave the child or be prepared to explain to your husband who he belongs to. Those are the only options.”

Her pretty face contorted into an ugly, wrinkled mask, and she lifted her skirt to turn on her heels. 

“Fine! It’s not like I want the child of a thief anyway!”  

Snapping at her maid, she hovered back to her carriage, and they disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust. You smiled down at the little baby, who’d managed to sleep through the drama. 

“Saber, I know I shouldn’t have spoken for you…I just- He deserves better than to grow up with the knowledge his mother believes him to be less than. Can you imagine him living as her secret? Sneaking around to hide him? If she passed him in the street, she’d ignore him to preserve her status. He’d be heartbroken. I won’t let that happen. I hope I didn’t overstep, but I’m not sorry for it.” 

He dropped to his knees, eyes wet, and pushed his head into your shoulder. His big arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tight.

“You said just the right thing,” he murmured, then turned his head to look at his son. “What should we name him?” 

You smiled at him. 

“Let’s talk it over over lunch.” 

The two of you walked back down the path together, both having a hard time keeping your gaze off the baby. He wriggled in his sleep, making you both see hearts.

“Maybe we should move,” you murmured. “Just to be sure…and to give him a fresh start.” 

He looked down at you. 

“You won’t miss this place?” 

You sighed. 

“No…this is just a house. We have a family now. He should grow up in a happy little town, not the capital…we’ll have to save for a few months, but I think we can do it.” 

“We don’t have to save. I have plenty of money.” 

You froze in your tracks, looking up at him.

“What? I thought you said you were broke?” 

He smiled down at you. 

“I meant I didn't have any coin on me. I didn’t just piss all of my ill-gotten gains away. I hid them. Follow me.” 

He tugged the two of you into the forest, walking quite a ways until you reached an oddly placed rock. Saber crouched down and uprooted a bush with a stiff jerk. Then he cleared the soil away, revealing a wooden chest. He turned the little dial a few ways until it clicked, and the chest opened with a creak. Your eyes widened at the hundreds of gold coins piled inside. He casually tugged the gold he’d lifted from you out of his pocket and tossed it inside with a metallic clink. 

“I think we can buy a nice place with this.” 

You were still completely confused. He rummaged around in the coins, producing the gold necklace he’d stolen. Standing, he fastened it around your neck with the nimble fingers of a thief.

“I thought you lost it gambling?” 

He shrugged. 

“I lied.” 

“Why did you keep it?” 

He gave you a long look.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. Something told me not to sell it.” 

“But…what about the rest? I thought you gave it all to Melody?” 

“I tried to…we grew up in the capital, in the same slums she wants to buy a baby from. It wasn’t ever about what I could provide her. She wanted to erase her past. She wanted a title…to be a lady, to be able to lift her nose at the very people she grew up with.

I started saving after she failed at her first attempt at seducing some highborn. At the time, I had this romantic dream that I could surprise her with a big house, start a business, and be the Lord she wanted so badly…but… as time passed, I realized I was already tainted in her eyes. She wanted the right blood attached to her money. It took me too long to be ready to pull away. Dante was the nail in the coffin, so to speak.” 

He tugged the chest from the ground, hauling it onto his shoulder before leading you back through the forest.  

“Even though I knew I wasn’t enough…I foolishly still loved her. I was a mess when he proposed. That’s why I got caught. I went on a bender that lasted most of a year…Fortunately, I never touched this. Maybe I held out hope since Melody still entertained my attention…but I got sloppy and ended up in jail.” 

His gaze dropped to the baby. 

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn't have ever known about him. Anything could have happened to him if you hadn’t-”

He choked a bit, a couple of tears slipping down his cheek. You didn’t push him to finish his sentence. You knew what he was trying to say. 

“What about Arel?” you asked. 

“Arel? That sounds like an Elvin name.” 

You smiled at the little baby’s chubby cheeks. 

“It is…it means ‘treasure’.” 

He stopped, bending down to examine his son more closely. The baby’s eyes opened, and you saw that they were the same pretty chartreuse as his father’s. The two of them looked at one another in awe. 

“I like Arel,” he said, brushing a thick finger over his cheek. 

Arel’s big eyes grew wet, and he started to croon. 

Shock and worry bloomed on Saber’s face. 

“Is he okay?” 

“I think he’s hungry. I have some goat milk at home.” 

Saber straightened, and you had to almost jog to keep up with him, the two of you hurrying home to start your life as a family.

[ataraxixia]

𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐏

❦ 𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒. you stole Boothill's clothes to make him realise how (in)appropriate he dresses ❧ tags. boothill x reader, fluff, teasing, slight suggestive, ❧. a/n. I rlly can't get enough of this man

"c'mon, darlin', I ain't one to play hide n' seek. where's that fudging pretty face of 'ya?" boothill practically shouted through your house, looking in every room and every corner to find you- to no avail, yet, since he didn't bother to look in the living room for some reason.

"for a bounty hunter you're really bad at finding people!" you could hear the low chuckle from him through the walls, the sound of his metal boots becoming clearer and louder.

"oh, darlin', now 'yer pushin' it." he said, arriving the corner of where your livingroom and hallway were connected. "there 'ya are, darl- oh."

the moment he laid his eyes on you, you could've sworn you saw steam coming out of his body. his eyes were wide and his mouth agape for a second before another low chuckle came from him.

"What's this darlin'? I don' think I did anythin' to deserve this."

"So, you see this as a prize?" you asked, a 'not-so-pleased' expression on your face. you were currently wearing your boyfriends clothes- if you can even call those pieces of fabric clothes. although too big on you, they covered almost nothing- his jacket at least.

boothill walked up to you, a smug smile on his face as he eyed you up and down, a small whistle escaping his lips. "well, if 'yer wordin' it like that, I'd say no." he took your chin in his hand and made you look up at him directly, stroking his finger over your lips- even if he couldn't feel it.

"but seriously now, why are 'ya wearin' my clothes? especially with nothing under it."

"do you wear anything under it?"

"I've got metal plates, you don't. that's different, pumpkin."

you rolled your eyes at him, swatting his arm, which held your chin, away and your hands on your hips- skin to skin, since those pants have hip openings for some reason. you really didn't understand the person who made these clothes for him.

"I could get used to this, though. 'Ya look like quite a meal." his face was close to yours now, his breath warm on your cheeks. He snaked an arm around your waist and you two practically leaned against the wall now. "Boothill, I only wore these to show how inappropriate your clothes are! they cover nothing!" you said, but he chuckled- again- and gave you a light peck on the lips, his shark-like teeth grazing your bottom lip.

"I ain't have anythin' to cover up, darlin'."

he gave you a smug smile again and you would've punched him in the gut if he still had one. you refrained though, mostly because you could break your hand if you actually punched him.

"you're impossible."

"only because 'ya make it so easy." he shot back, "now c'mon, you wanna change to 'ya old clothes, don't 'ya?"

"more than anything." you nodded, walking past him towards your shared bedroom and he followed behind- like a lost dog.

once you were back in 'normal' clothes again, you relaxed on top of your bed with boothill lying on his side beside you, steadying his head with the palm of his hand.

"What was 'ya point again, baby? Somethin' 'bout me dressin' inappropriately?" he asked with a sly smile, "because I sure as hell remember that 'ya ain't carin'."

He sat up straight cross-legged, his elbows on his knees and his face leaning on his hands. "'cause," he tilted his head, "'ya always wanting' to get these off myself when we're havin' a little fun-"

"Don't say stuff like that! It's embarrassing!"

"Only embarrassin' for 'ya, I enjoy it." god, why did he always have something to say back?

You grabbed the blanket and covered yourself, turning away from him. He frowned a little, a small pout on his lips as he shifted towards your figure, embracing you with his arms, even if he wasn't under the cover.

"'ya just gonna ignore me now? 'ya ain't thinkin' 'ya pushin' it?" he asked, his breath touching your nape. you stayed silent, only a shake of your head answering his question.

"fine, fine, I won't say stuff like that anymore, 'ya cowboy promises, happy?" you quietly laughed at his promise before turning around, the two of you face-to-face.

"very."

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

Anything?

Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Tags : Dubcon, oral (female giving), penetration, smut with plot, man-handling, death, heavy angst, mild gore, unprotected sex (use protection!).

Notes : Gojo is the victim here. Also if you know, you know. Minors, the drill. Out.

"And they have to do one thing, anything, that the winner says."

You turn back with a small hum of acknowledgement, the lilt of his voice calling your name distracting you from the mangled curse corpse in front of you.

"Satoru, you're here early today" you beam at the white-haired man in front of you as you messily wipe the blue blood on your jacket, his large figure seemingly blocking the doorway. Oh well, you weren't needed anywhere at the moment anyways.

He stares at you quietly, you stare back. You don't need to see his eyes to know. His gaze is hard to ignore when you can clearly feel yourself be picked apart and put together again like pieces of a puzzle, trying to decode you, your mind and soul with his six-eyes. You won't let him. Not this time.

"Ever the difficult one, I'd have enjoyed this rare tryst otherwise" you sigh at his silence, your smile never faltering. Gently flopping down on the dusty, rickety bed behind you with your legs crossed- a sight to behold with the splattered corpse decorating the headboard and walls.

"You're as annoying as ever" His voice is cold, despite the smile on his lip, his gaze even colder when he pulls the bandage off his eyes and positions himself to blow you off- his cerulean blues staring right into yours like you guessed. You grin, you can't help it, lazily positioning yourself in a defensive position.

Your eyes distractedly flickers back at the muted sound of blood dripping down from the curse's body, a 1st grade incubus. How ideal. "Any last words?" Satoru. Sweet as ever. He owes you though.

"Can I kiss you?" You lick the speckles of blood from your hand, drifting the other one down right above your womb "I'm rather aroused right now, aphrodisiacal effects and what not" You move towards him, showcasing the mutilated corpse on the wall. An incubus. Aphrodisiac blood. Satoru sighs, his hands moving to his pockets "Seriously? You could've said anything and that's what you're going with? Are you sure you want those to be your last words?"

It's funny he said that, you have no intention to make this your last moment.

"Speaking of anything, I believe there's something we've forgotten" You murmur, fingers trailing up his torso and his neck to pull him down.

"Satoru, I wonder if you remember"

2005

"Rock, paper, Scissors! Winner gets the tart!" You pull at Satoru's hair to stop him from eating the oh so delicious lemon tart that Shoko purchased for her adoring kohai, you. Only problem was that Satoru came in at the wrong moment. He grunts, setting the plate down to loosen your hold and tackle you in the common room floor "You've had three already! Don't be so selfish, will ya?!"

"Don't care! It's mine, you should be glad that I'm even willing to compromise with you" you huff, looking up at him from your position on the floor as he glares down at you, his legs straddling your waist. He narrows his eyes, you narrow yours right back and with a sigh, he puts his glasses back on with a quiet 'fine'.

1 : 0 Satoru wins.

Damn that technique of his, you grumble as you watch him eat the tart with a smug smirk.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors. Loser treats the Winner to dinner." You challenge Satoru, holding onto your wounded arm as you make your way to the infirmary with the pair. Suguru sighs, Satoru smiles. A cheshire-like grin quickly gracing his face "Does the loser pay for the winner's friends too?"

You shrug in agreement, that only meant free dinner for Suguru, Shoko and you. Haibara and Nanami were out of town.

A shame. It would've been easier to burn through Satoru's pocket if they weren't.

4 : 0 Satoru wins and you don't learn a lesson.

You also burn a hole through your wallet, Suguru and Shoko's bill were fine. Satoru ate a horse.

You look left at the sound of your name, finger pointing to the right, Satoru looks left. He points up, your gaze follows his fingers and stupidly looks up. Nanami and Shoko only sighs at the sight, uncaring of the outcome. Too tired to chide you anymore, you just don't listen.

30 : 0 Satoru wins

You're forced to massage his stiff shoulders for an hour while he watches his soap operas with a victorious hum.

2007

"Come in" you call out at the sound of the knock, kicking your feet in the air and against the wall as you lie on your back. Hair falling off the edge of the bed into small cascades.

Satoru walks in, drawling out your name as he settles down on the floor and starts fiddling with your hair. He's different, you've seen that curious glint in his eyes one too many times to not notice. It never led to anything good. Never. "What is it?" You sigh, it's the only thing you can do.

"What do you do at times like this?"

You pause, tilting your head back to look at him and his cryptic question with a quirked brow "Times like what?" You ask, your fingers twitching at the sight of the small blush rising in his cheeks. A little pinch wouldn't hurt, right?

"Times like when you've got a boner...y'know"

You still, completely and perfectly as you stare at him. You're not sure if you're dreaming or hallucinating because this could never be reality, the nonchalant look on his face further irks you. You don't understand him, you knew him but you never really did understand him- mostly because of questions like such. You don't have a dick, never did....or do you? Your hand drifts up to your cunt and cups it, brows furrowing at the realization- you were so utterly baffled at his question that you doubted the very equipment you've had for 16 years.

"Why are you asking me this? Nanami, Haibara and Suguru exists-" you start, moving to get up. Satoru doesn't allow it. Gently tugging you back down by your hair with a click of his tongue "They all kicked me out"

No surprise there.

"Seriously though, why me? Ask Shoko. She's the expert in thi-" he pinches your cheeks, effectively cutting you off "Just answer me, will ya? Help a friend out here, geez." You pry his hands off, pulling it away from your face with a sigh as you answer reluctantly "I guess I'd take care of it"

"Do ya wanna help me?" You let go of his hands and finally shift to sit up. You're dreaming. No doubt.

"What?"

"Isn't it normal for friends to...y'know, help each other out? So let's do it together" He leans forward and looks up at you expectantly. Any other time, the sight would've rubbed your ego. Hell, you'd have found it cute. However this time, the air starts to buzz, small sparks of electricity running down your skin. At least he doesn't look immune to the tension either, a small mercy.

"You mean like mutual masturbation?" You ask, Satoru nods quietly. You're not sure which is more surprising. Him being straight, you always thought he had a thing for Suguru, or him being interested in sex in the first place.

"Left and right, winner gets the say?" he offers, breaking the silence and holding his index up. You sigh, again, nodding with a smile "Left and right, winner gets the say." You point to the left, your gaze falling towards your right at the sound of your pillow falling. Satoru looks right.

43 : 0 Satoru wins

"Wanna make one more bet?" Satoru asks coolly, pumping his pre-cum on his hard cock while you shimmy your shorts down. You nod quietly, trying your hardest not to look at it or at least stop yourself from staring. You knew he was big, all the time he spent straddling you gave you enough reasons to not doubt it. Add his height in the equation and it results to something you're not sure you'd ever want inside you.

He's oblivious to your dilemma as you settle down on the bed with only a shirt and your cotton panties on- facing him, of course.

"How about the first one to cum loses? And they have to do one thing, anything, that the winner says."

Anything?

"Satoru, you do know that 'anything' is a ruinous- hah- word, right? You should really stop using that word for bets in the future" You breathe out, rubbing up and down your slit through the thin material. Satoru's gaze zeroes down with a smirk "So are you in or not, your highness? Unless you're too afraid to lose." You know you shouldn't fall for his words, you shouldn't fall for that husky voice of his that only gathers heat low in your stomach but the hazy mist enveloping your mind accepts it before you know it.

Small whimpers leak out of you, pushing the soaked material aside and rubbing gentle circles on your clit as you look at Satoru through hazy eyes. The clumsy technique of his when he touches himself, a contradiction to his skills in other areas. His snow-white hair sticking to his forehead and the way he closes his eyes when he gets really into it, the small grunts and pants escaping his lips. You can't help it, he's so beautiful. Leaning forward, your forehead taps against his with closed eyes as you push a finger past your folds-

Warm, something warm gushes on your hand. Eyes snapping open only to see a blushing Satoru cumming on your hand, your thighs, your arms- basically everywhere. He came. On you.

"Yessssssss" You hiss in delight, your rising orgasm in the back of your mind when you finally get your first victory, pumping your hands in the air excitedly; a low muffled groan emanating from in between Satoru's hand. The complete opposite of you.

Satoru's not sure why he's burying his face, was it from his loss of win streak? His defeat? Embarrassment? Or post nut clarity? Satoru's really not sure but what he is sure is the fact that he just can't look you in the eye right now.

"We barely started and you already came so quick!" You giggle delightedly, your dripping core completely forgotten as you revel in your victory. He peeks at you, your forehead to be precise, from in between his fingers with a pout "I couldn't help it, I thought you were gonna kiss me"

Kiss him? You? He thought you were gonna kiss him? Now that he mentioned it, his lips did look really kissable- "Did you want me to?" You ask. He blinks weirdly, one eye lagging behind the other like a broken doll before his face scrunches.

First was digust? You're not sure, the glint in his eyes says otherwi- Then came more disgust, his nose scrunching at the thought of it "Ew, why would I do that with a friend? That's just weird. No way, that's just gross"

"But what we did wasn't???" You question yourself, pursing your lips to shut yourself up as you move to clean up. You don't think you'll ever fully understand Satoru.

1 : 43 You win

"Satoru, go back to your own bed" you groan, your back pressed against his as he pushes you closer to the wall with a small grumbled 'don't wanna'.

"It's fuckin' cramped here" You shift, pulling the blanket towards your side. Rolling your eyes when he tugs it back with a quiet "Don't care, 'm sleepy." Maybe it was your fault, you spoil him too much. You reap what you sow afterall.

Only if you had stolen a kiss from those lips and stayed in the blissful ignorance of the past.

"Suguru, wait up. 'M coming with you" You grab hold of his sleeve, your lips pursed into a grim line. You've never seen Suguru so liberated. You can only hope that you're making the right choice- you probably are though. Afterall, it was them that killed her. Not Suguru.

You don't believe in any higher beings. You are the living definition of one- one with filthy blood.

"Does Shoko know?" His tone is light but your grimace only deepens, sighing as you move to stand besides him "She'll understand"

He smiles at your answer, leisurely walking at your pace "What about Satoru?"

You hum a soft tune as you look up at the clear sky, cerulean blue with scattered tufts of white clouds. A small smile graces your lips. How untimingly beautiful.

"Him? He'll survive"

2017

You lean up, pressing your lips against his gently. A feather-light touch. He doesn't move, he only looks. His arctic eyes glaring down at you.

"Satoru, do you remember? You promised to do anything" you whisper in his ear, brushing your thumb against his lips before slowly wrapping your arms around his neck. "I'll use that promise now, have sex with me"

"Are you high right now, your highness?"

You giggle at the nickname, how amusing that he's still using it, trailing your hand down his spine. "You know my technique, Satoru. Royal Authority takes a toll on me if I use it for too long" you sigh, nuzzling his neck. Breathing in his oddly familiar scent. "I'm all weak right now, the aphrodisiac should be three times more potent when I'm like this. You know that as well as I do "

You pull away when you're met with silence and his unchanging face, lowering your voice to a soft coo "You don't have to do it if you don't want to, Satoru. Just don't come blaming me when some of those monkeys, like Suguru so kindly puts it, gets hurt when I try to help myself."

"You-"

You click your tongue, cutting him off. "You're a fool, Satoru. If you really want to save them so much you should be killin' me, not listening to my ramblings" He's glaring down at you, you know he is. The feeling of a hole burning through your head was more than enough of a warning for you to stop, to pull your hand back and run away, leaving him behind. Like always. You don't. Not this time.

Trailing your hand down, you giggle when your hand flutters against his cock clearly straining against his leggings "Consider me entertained, you're already hard. And here I thought you hated me, I guess you still have that cute side of you-"

You're cut short when Satoru grabs you by your hair, roughly tugging it back and crashing his lips against yours wantonly- bordering on desperation with more teeth and tongue than lips. His other hand trails down the arm that was pressed against his crotch, slowly intertwining his fingers with yours. Pulling you closer, closer and closer still until you taste blood on your lips. He bit you. Canines pressing down on your tongue to draw droplets of blood- the bloody red decorates itself against his kiss-bitten lips, a stark contrast against his cerulean eyes.

How unfairly beautiful.

You pull away to speak. To tell him 'let's take this business to bed', he doesn't give you a chance. He follows your lips, chasing after it. The more you lean back, the more he leans in- your heaving chest completely pressed against his as he tangles his hand in your hair, supporting you up when you lean too far back. He's too rough, you're not sure if he's trying to suck or nip at you. He does neither, he just bites- not hard enough to bleed but just enough to feel.

"Bed" you finally breathe out, taking in deep breathes when he moves to kiss your jaw. He's so cute when he acts like he can't part his searing lips away from you for even a second. He won't have to, there's a perfectly working bed behind you, albeit a little dusty, rickety and slightly bloody- he clicks his tongue when he catches sight of the bed's condition.

"I'm not getting naked here, I have standards"

"Ijichi? He is your assistant, isn't he?" You hum, leaning back into the motel's bed- watching Satoru watch you as he walks in and shut the door behind him. Effectively clicking it shut. You feel so much better, having scrubbed the grime off-

"I sent him back" he nods blankly, standing right in front of you. For all the air he puts on, his cock sure was honest- already so hard that it bulges out through the thick layer of his leggings and jacket. You press your face against it, squishing it beneath your cheek as you take in his heady scent. Fingers hooking against the hem of his leggings, you pull it down, down, down to his ankles.

You quickly move to do the same with his boxers but his hands quickly grabs your wrists to a halt, earning him a frustrated huff. "What is it now?" You ask with an exasperated smile.

"Are you serious about this?" This man was gonna be the death of you. He doesn't have a choice and yet, he still acts like he does. Typical Satoru.

Your smile turns into a smirk, a teasing one "Don't tell me you've never slept with a person before? Because I am, I am serious" Prying your hands off his hold, you pull his boxers down to meet his fully erect cock. His tip an angry red and leaking- so hard and red against his soft, white tufts of hair lining up his pelvic bone. "Totally serious"

It's unfair to be so beautiful.

"Shall we start with a blow job?" You murmur, placing a small kiss on his tip, smile widening when you feel him shudder against your touch with a muffled groan. "You don't look like a virgin" you murmur, flicking your tongue against his slit- precum salty in your mouth "but you sure act like one"

Licking your lips, you part your mouth wider, lips stretching around his length almost painfully while your tongue glides itself against his throbbing veins and pulls out such pretty, little sounds from him that it makes you wanna play it on repeat over and over again. But it's not enough. Not for you.

Holding yourself steady, you push his cock all the way down your throat. Forcing him in impossibly closer until his white tufts tickles your nose, your hands digging into his thighs as you start a sinful, torturous pace. Gagging and choking around his length when you fall into an unstopping rhythm that has him pulling at your hair and groaning your name out to stop. You don't listen.

The past silence all but forgotten by your loud, pathetic slurps and his low, guttural moans of 'wait' and 'stop'. You don't stop, more like you can't stop.

Satoru's protest was as false as his hatred for you, you're not the moving anymore afterall. His hold on your hair pulls you in and out, each one deeper and harder, thrusting into your throat so wildly that all you can do is dig your hands into his alabaster skin.

No doubt creating pretty little moon-shaped dents that'll last for days in the back of his thighs.

Tears pool in your eyes as you look up at him, face all scrunched up with closed eyes and you realize that he's getting really into it. A wet, gurgling sound emanates from deep within you when you see the veins tick in his jaw. He's close. Cerulean blues stares into yours, his free hand brushing against your cheek to wipe at the few tears that escaped.

"Don't go crying on me now- hah- you're the one who wanted this"

He's so mean. And so very condescending. It's all too much- you can't help but clench your thighs together, slick leaking through the flimsy motel robe and wetting the sheets beneath you. You've fallen too far but you just can't seem to care. He looks so fuckin' hot.

And he is fuckin' hot- more like his cum is when he shoots it down your pretty little throat and ruts against it, holding your head in place to stop you from spitting it out. Grabbing hold of his shirt, you swallow desperately so that you can finally pull away and heave for air, the salty taste of his cum resting thick in your mouth as you pant, knuckles going white from how hard you clutch onto his shirt.

Satoru loosens his hold on your hair, kneeling down to look at you. He's no longer glaring, he's just looking. Something unfamiliar swirls in his eyes besides lust, you can't put your finger on what it is. And that pisses you off. You'd rather have him glare at you. It's easier for you to decode him that way. It's also far easier for your throbbing heart.

"We can stop here" His voice is soft, almost loving. It makes you want to rip your ears off.

"No, I want you in me. Can you do it?" You're adamant, Satoru can only give in. His hands trails down to undo the bindings of your robe, pressing a light kiss on your collarbone. "Trust me"

"The bet was to do anything, right?" He murmurs in your ear, his breathe hot and heavy against your skin. You're a mess- all but reduced to a pile of whines and whimpers when he pushes his leaking tip past your fluttering folds and splits your drooling walls apart. Forcing himself past the first rim of muscles and stretching you so wide, it almost feels like you'll tear.

"Wanna make another bet?" He grunts, giving shallow, experimental thrusts to give your gummy walls the time to adjust to his size. He's nice that way.

"Seriously? Right now?" You breathe out in short puffs, tilting your head to the side to look at him unamusedly, trying so desperately to get used to the delicious albeit painful stretch. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, his only reply? A nod.

"The first one to cum loses. And the loser has to do one thing, nothing serious of course" He looks at you with a grin, the corner of his lips stretched knowingly at you. He still remembers, you smile back. It's the only thing you can do "Deal"

"Perfect" Dragging his swollen cock out just enough, he kisses your forehead. A soft-featherlight kiss, one that you barely register. Before he's ramming back in and out, over and over against your sweet, sweet spot with a pace so brutal that you're sure he's rearranging your insides- It'll probably be bruised by the end of it.

"For someone- ah who a-acts like a virgin, you sure know y-your way around"

He chuckles shakily above you, pace refusing to stutter for even a moment "Six eyes, remember?" Damn that technique of his.

"T-that's unfair" you grit out and he only smiles, it's a mean one. One that gets your drooling cunt even wetter and your already snug walls even tighter.

"Everything's -nghh fair in love and war, y-your highness. And I for one, am in lo-" you slap your hand over his mouth with a small no, your spotty vision not doing anything to help block his burning gaze. Everything else goes blank after.

You're digging your fingers into his cheeks with your eyes screwed shut when an unfamiliar white-hot sensation of electricity shoots through you. Kissing and marking every inch of skin with its delicious burn. Making sure to milk his very soul out of him- he follows right behind, shooting that forbidden ropes of his cum in your womb.

Almost as if trying to paint over your bruised insides with it's milky tone.

143 : 1 Satoru wins

You're heaving, gasping and sucking in lungs full of air one at a time but you still can't breathe. It's suffocating. So very suffocating.

You look down at Satoru only to find his hair staring back at you, only registering the kitten licks he's placing over your perked up nipples when he places an unusually harsh bite on one side and a mean tug on the other which elicites a high pitched squeak out of you. You clamp down on his still hard coc-

"Didn't you already come twice? H-how are you still hard, so quickly that too" You question, grinding against him in disbelief- that action earns you a teethy bite on the curve of your breast, leaving pretty, little red teeth dents.

"The thing is, until today, I wasn't able to get it up properly for the past few years" Satoru leans up, suckling on your kiss-bitten bottom lip. His eyes everything but the usual cesspool of infinite void when he meets your gaze- something dark and warm has taken it's place, filling the infinite void till it reaches the brim and spills out.

"And it's all thanks to a certain highness who ran away from her knight in shining armor."

How absurd. He's finally gone crazy. "You're joking" you breathe out, leaning your head back to tug your lips free. That pisses him off.

"Joking?" He clicks his tongue, his tone low and gravelly, and swipes his finger over your lips to force it's way past and pry your lips open.

You move to bite down but he's quicker. Crashing his lips against yours to swallow you whole, licking and searching for the small dents of his canines on your tongue with a groan as if looking out for remnants of your blood.

He doesn't find any, he curses your RCT. Wait, RCT? Oh you little liar.

Your heaving chest presses against his, effectively distracting him from his thoughts, back arching off the bed with a loud whine when he bucks into you with a painfully sweet thrust.

"Looks like I'm gonna have to show you what a few years of build-up looks like to make you believe me"

It's been hours, your insides have been molded perfectly to his size but he still hasn't stopped, he's relentless.

"I-I would've followed you-nngh anywhere if you only asked me to" He groans, your name falling past his lips like a mantra, harshly bucking his overstimulated cock into your sloppy cunt with every word he utters. His grip on your thighs so bruising that it leaves angry purple and red splotches against it.

"W-what?" You stutter out, barely lucid, sucking his every inch in over and over again with a sinful squelch.

"W-would've followed-hah you anywhere if you j-just asked" he repeats, rolling the pad of his thumb against your abused clit with sharp, calculated moves. Almost as if trying to rip and tear through you to squeeze out another orgasm.

You squeal under his touch, thighs hooking around his sculpted waist to pull him closer still- the very same thighs which now trembles and shakes at the force of your orgasm, giving him exactly what he wants for the umpteenth time with a loud and stuttered babble of incoherent words as you gush around him.

Satoru follows behind, like he always does, his spilled seeds leaking out of the side and dripping over the damp mattress. You try to blink the hazy mist of your high off when something warm drips on your cheek with a small plik. Once Twice Thric-

Looking up only to find Satoru's watery blues brimmed with tears which steadily falls down to your cheek and slides down to the pillow underneath. "I s-swear I would've, if you only asked me to"

And you know he means it, you know he would've done so without any hesitation. His bags would've been packed before you were done asking and that's exactly why you didn't do so. You don't deserve him.

Satoru deserves so much better, he doesn't deserve you. Not when you have filthy blood running in your veins. All you can do is steel your heart for him.

"Get off" Your tone is cold, the first you've ever used towards him in a long, long time. The hurt flashing across his flushed face prickles your skin, it burns and squeezes your heart so tight that it knocks the wind out of you. "It's for the best."

His face is blank again, the warm blues in his eyes flickers and turns cold. The last of his tears dripping on your cheek feels icicle, sliding down and leaving a trail of ice as he moves off of you. Pulling out with a lewd slosh and pop, thick globs of cum spilling out onto the already damp mattress.

You quickly move to sit up despite the uncomfortable throb, everything hurts, but Satoru is quicker, he doesn't allow you to do so. Grabbing you by the waist, he pulls you back to bury his face in your hair.

"Wait, no no no- Stay. Please. I'm sorry" His tone is urgent, leaning to borderline deperate. You try to pry his hands off, he doesn't relent. He has an iron-grip on you.

"I won't ask you to take me back" he starts, voice muffled by your skin as he presses his lips against the back of your neck wantonly "I won't ask you to come back"

"I won't ask anything serious off of you, I swear. I just want you to stay" he murmurs, pulling you so close that his chest presses against your back. "I can't, Suguru needs me"

She gave her life to save yours so you'll give yours to protect his. Protect Suguru for her, it's the least you can do fo-

"And you think I don't?" Satoru chokes out, tangling his legs with yours. Holding you still, keeping you there. He doesn't plan on letting you go anytime soon. "Why is it always him? I needed you too, I always did. Hell I still do"

"Satoru-" he cuts you off, letting go of you to quickly shift and make you face him before you even realize it. Snaking an arm around yours to pull you flush against him, burying his face in the curve of your breasts. "What about me?"

"What about you?" You whisper, cupping his cheek, gently making him look up. He's tearing up again, you made him cry again. You don't know how you'll ever forgive yourself. But you can't go soft on him, not now.

"You'll survive" you brush his tears off "you always do"

"I won so you have to stay...even if only for tonight" he whispers defeatedly, leaning up to kiss you- he can't change your mind anymore, no one can. It's far too late.

It's your fault, you've spoiled him too much. You reap what you sow.

"Fine" you murmur in his salty lips, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.

You'll indulge him one last time. Even if it's only for tonight.

December 24

"Can't a woman have any privacy around here?" You rasp out, a smile flickering at your face at the sight of Satoru kneeling besides you. Quiet. And all too solemn. It doesn't suit him.

"You're bleeding" He's a genius, isn't he? Always pointing out the obvious. You look down at the open gash in your chest, barely surviving, barely breathing as you use Royal Authority to it's full extent to forcefully keep your heart pumping. Your energy diminishing rapidly, curse your technique for using so much of it.

"Suguru?" You ask, head falling back against the wall when he shakes his head. Gone. Suguru's gone. You will be too, soon enough. "Stay with him, he gets lonely easily" you murmur, breathing in shakily. He tucks your hair behind your ear gently, a small smile on his lips "He'll understand"

Your heart throbs painfully, the crushing pain moving on to every single part of your body at the sight of his smile. How painfully beautiful. Your mortal wounds could never hold a candle against this pain.

"It's funny how you're still so beautiful even when you're on the verge of dying"

Warmth blooms in your slowly freezing body, a genuine smile fluttering against your lips at his praise. Like the smiles you graced him with in the past. The painfully beautiful smile that grabs hold of his heart and doesn't let go, it never did let go. Even after everything you've done.

"Truly beautiful" He whispers, his voice hoarse and thick, grazing your cheek. "Satoru. Go" You whisper back, leaning into his touch. "Suguru needs you more than I do, I'm better off alone"

He opens his mouth to protest. "Left and right, winner gets the say" You hold your index, cutting him right off. "Loser has to do one thing, anything, that the winner says"

He smiles. A bitter one, his furrowed brows gives him away. "I thought you told me to stop using that word for future bets"

"Consider this an exception" you smile back sweetly "Satoru, live the life you want to live okay?"

"As long as I survive, right?" You answer with a nod.

"Don't worry. If it's for you, I'll do it. I'll survive." He sighs, holding his finger up and pointing to the right, you look down. You point to the direction he came from, the direction Suguru is in, the direction that your gaze falls at. Satoru looks left.

"Leave"

2 : 143 You win

"I'll be right back" Satoru whispers thickly, gently closing your lifeless eyes shut. "So stay right where you are this time, your highness"

__________________________________________________

It's always the midnight inspo, I swear. Lost braincells trying to write the smut scenes.

Masterlist ♡ Serieslist ♡ NSFWlist

[russellsppttemplates]

So... pure and so you (Charles Leclerc)

Going back home means Charles sees how you've been healing, and your parents haven't missed it either

Note: english is not my first language. I know it's past Christmas, but this still counts, right?

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: talks about having kids

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Is your mother making those biscuits I really like? Those fluffy ones, they're like little cakes actually", Charles asked, his hand over the console and resting on your thigh as he turned left for the final cut to your house.

"She said she was planning on making them these afternoon, I can't wait!", you squealed, clapping your hands together at the prospect, seeing your parents left the gate open so you could drive in.

Parking the car, Charles ensured it was safe before coming out of it as well, being greeted by your family dog while you hugged your parents, "hello buddy, how are you? You're very excited to see us, hm? Yes you are!", Charles cooed, rubbing his belly as he wagged his tail at the attention he was receiving.

You hugged your parents before looking for your boyfriend, "Arlo loves Charles more than he loves me", you chuckled, seeing the labrador run back to you as Charles followed him.

"Hi, how are you?", Charles offered as he kissed your mother's cheeks, opting to shake your father's hand as you walked inside, "did you have a good drive back here?", he questioned him, "yes, not too bad actually. It wasn't too busy", your boyfriend replied, seeing you store your coats and get comfortable in your parents' house.

After lunch, your mother asked for help with baking while your father and Charles helped with preparing the table to you could then roll the dough properly.

It was a sight to behold. You were helping your mother with Christmas cookies and the cakes your boyfriend mentioned, your clothes littered with flour stains as you touched your mother's cheek with some of the mixture, containing your laugh as she didn't seem to notice the powder on her skin.

You were happy, giggly and you had a glow that Charles was sure put all of the products you had back home to shame.

"It's good to see her like this", Charles commented when he felt your father's eyes on him, "work has been a lot lately, and she'll only listen to so much of what I say and take the advice even less than I'd like", he chuckled.

Your father shook his head, "She's always been like that. It was worrisome for a little bit, and we always make sure she's not pushing herself too much. And we know we have you in our team, too", the older man touched a Charles' shoulder, rubbing it slightly before he offered him a drink.

After wishing your parents a good night, you and Charles headed to your room upstairs, needing to catch up on some sleep after the busy day. Your old bedroom had slightly changed since you moved out to live with your boyfriend. Your parents swapped your single bed for a double one, for whenever you and Charles visited, and updated the colour of the walls, wanting to keep it on the neutral side in case they needed it for other guests, "are you showering now or after me?", Charles asked, grabbing a towell from himself, "I'll go after you, I need to hang my clothes first", you smiled, kissing his lips as he went to the bathroom.

Looking through your wardrobe, you noticed your mother still kept the family albums in there, remembering something about the downstairs drawers being humid and her worry about loosing the memories. You flickered through the pages, recalling some memories from when you were younger, some of them you probably constructed by other people telling you the moments.

Charles walked in a little while later, ruffling his hair with a towell only in a t-shirt and underwear, "you can go now, amour", he said as he noticed you closing the album, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you walked to take a shower.

You were already in bed when you noticed Charles looking at the books, "you want to look at what's inside them, don't you?", you chuckled as his eyes lit up, "I'm not too tired to look at them, and I bet there are some good memories in there", he confessed.

Opening the book while your boyfriend pulled you to rest against his chest, "this is so pretty", you appreciated all the details on the pages, either doodles or descriptions from the moment when the picture was taken.

"Look at these cheeks!", Charles groaned as he pointed at a picture of you. From the date on the page, you were around four, two pigtails on your curly hair and a toothy smile, "if our kids have your cheeks, which I hope they do, I won't be able to stop kissing them, I know I just won't", he breathed out.

"Do you think about that a lot?", you wondered, looking at his face as you adjusted your position slightly, genuinely curious about the subject. It had been something you had talked about before and it seemed to come to again.

"Yes, I do. I still think we should wait a little bit longer, get married first, enjoy married life just you and me and then we can think about little ones, but everytime I see a child or someone asks, it's you I see. With a baby bump, then a little baby in your arms, and we play with them and love in them like they deserve", he cooed, rubbing the tip of his nose on your cheek, kissing it softly.

"Me too", you smiled, "I mean, its always you I see whenever I think about the future. And it looks so good. Sometimes it looks scary, because I don't know how it will play out, but I'll have you with me, so all will be well", you admitted, kissing his lips properly.

You had been friends before you dated, and it has been a whole process to get you to be this open to him when you started dating, never wanting to put too much on his plate as he had his own things to deal with, not wanting to burden him and not wanting to lose him from your life.

"We're a team, amour, there's no need to fear", he said, closing the book and setting it down on the floor, cuddling you to him.

The next morning was slow. Charles' lips littered kisses on your neck and cheeks, seeing the smile as you slowly woke up, "it's Christmas, ma belle", you heard his whisper, his eyes looking for yours, "Merry Christmas, handsome, I love you", you muttered, pulling your hands out from under the covers and cupping your boyfriend's' cheeks, rubbing the stubbly skin before kissing him.

"I love how smiley you are", Charles complimented, big coats and scarf on as you walked on the trail after having breakfast, occasionally pestering your mother with a fallen tree branch or twigs as she thought some animal was crawling up her skin.

"Am I not smiley regularly?", you wondered, knowing what he meant. Coming home meant, after a lot of work on yourself over the years, you would enjoy yourself without any outside pressures. You were amongst family and in the safe place you grew up. No prying eyes, no one commenting or second guessing what you said, wore or looked like.

"You are, but you're carefree, I think. You're not so stressed, your inner child is showing so much more, and it's so... pure. So you", he smiled, kissing the side of your head as he pulled you to walk closer to him.

They had both become adults way faster than the rest of the people their age. Charles' career forced him to grow up earlier and grow thicker skin very early on, and because you were there with him, too, you were also taken with the wave. You started working as soon as you finished your degree, and while you wouldn't complain about it, it did come with a lot of work and investment of yourself that you lost some of your younger years.

"Whenever we are not doing well, when it gets too much, we will do this. Visit your parents, do all the childish things we want to do, no matter how silly they may be", Charles stated as he rubbed your palm with his thumb, "I never want you to give up this side of you, and I'm willing to do anything to see you smile like that again and again".

Smiling at his words at chuckling slightly at the fact that there was no way this man was ever getting away from you, you held out your pinky, "I promise", you smiled as you two laced fingers, sealing it with a kiss.

[writingroom21]

Omg I love Boys Bathroom!! Idk if you're doing a pt 2 but if you need ideas, how about sumn based on Jacqueline and Hamilton's relationship from the 2000s tv series Young Americans? (if you haven't seen that show, it's fine. I barely remember it, myself, other than the fact that Ian somerhalder has never not been fine).

Where rafe and reader continue to sneak around, and it gets to the point that people start to suspect them, not because of her identity, but because they're a little too close to be just dormmates but no one says anything as they're scared of what rafe might do 👊 if they confront him for something 'he isn't ready to come out with yet' if you catch my drift, lol and just like the scene in She's The Man (I love that you used this movie for inspo, that movie was my childhood), when it comes time to do the kissing booth, and all of rafe's friends line up at the chance to kiss y/n, that he finally steps in and sets them straight about who she is and what she is to him <3 I'd add more but this shit is long enough as it is.

If you write this, pls tag me: @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist

A/N: I giggle so hard at the thought of Rafe's face finding out people think he's seeing her brother.

Cat's Out of The Bag

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, oral (m receiving), squirting (Rafe's can't get enough), unprotected sex(wrap it up), (let me know if I missed anything)

Wc:2.9K

Since that night in the bathroom it was a free for all on fucking. With your dorms right next to each other it was easy to sneak in and out. Rafe had gone back to his room that night thinking what the fuck did he just get into. There are two things he knows for certain. One being that you were one of the best lays not just because he’s been pussy deprived. Two he doesn’t know what he will do after this week is up.

The day after was a little awkward. You didn’t know if he regretted it, he may have suggested doing it again but that doesn’t mean he would. It wouldn’t be the first time a guy said something to you for them to take it all back. The only indication that he meant it was in biology. He was already there when you entered the classroom. He looked really good and the school polo fits him snuggly. 

He smirks at you as you sit down, pulling your chair a bit closer to him. It’s a little jawing seeing you dressed as a guy after last night. Even more jawing that he still feels attracted to you. Not because you look hot as a guy but because he knows it’s you under there. “Hey.” You whisper to him. “Hey.” His fingers brush against your thigh. 

The two of you are trying to keep cool when really you just want to skip class and sneak off. The class goes by, small smiles being shared. Even dared to touch the other while no one was looking. Brushing your hands together on the desk or knees bumping under the table. He just wanted to be closer to you, taking whatever he will get.

He walked you to your other classes in the disguise of just talking to a friend. A friend that stands too close so your hands can accidentally brush against each other with each step. A friend that later sneaks his way into your room when you think it’s late enough for people to be asleep. Pushing you in the room as soon as the door opened a crack.

He’s kissing you, kicking the door with his foot. “You know how bad I wanted to kiss you today? Almost lost my cool.” His words melt into your throat, his lips going to suck on the skin. “Can’t leave any marks.” You warn. “Been wanting you too.” Your hands pull at his shirt, yanking it over his head. Sinking to your knees, you spread kisses down from his chest to his stomach. Nipping at the skin right above his sweats. 

You look up at him, palming him through the fabric. “Can I show you how bad I wanted this?” The way your eyes are looking at him, he would agree to anything. Rafe groans when you give him a little squeeze. Reminding him that you are still there willing to please him. He made you feel amazing last night and you want to do the same. Nodding his head, his hand makes a ponytail with your hair. “Go for it baby.”

Without another word his pants and boxers are on the floor. Discarded to find later on when he’s scrambling to rush out early in the morning. But for now he’s only worried about the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him. The way that you hollow your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, focusing on his tip. His back hits the door helping him stay upright as his knees want to give out.

Your mouth feels like heaven. He could die at this exact moment and die a happy man. The hand holding your hair starts to help guide your movements. Giving you tugs when the pleasure is too much. Your hand that isn’t assisting your mouth slides its way into your sleep shorts. Massaging your clit and teasing your entrance with a finger. “Are you touching yourself?” His voice is shaky, getting dangerously close to cumming in your mouth. 

He takes a deep breath when you disconnect, a pop sounds in the room. “Mhmm. Felt too good.” You go in again to suck it back in your mouth. He hates that he has to stop you from continuing. Rafe would love for nothing more than to be in your mouth, watching as you gag over it. Or for you to sit on his face as he eats the shit out of you. The last thought is tucked away for later use.

“Get on the bed. Ass up and you chest to the sheets.” His words emphasized with a light tap to your face. You do as he says, stripping your clothes as you walk across the room. Rafe kicks off the pants from his ankles, shirt being tossed along with it. He likes seeing you like this. Willing to do anything just to scratch the itch you can’t sedate yourself. It’s the same way you looked last night.

You wiggle your ass when you feel the bed dip, his hands finding your ass. He wants to slap it, leave it with red hand marks. Make it so you can’t sit down in your classes tomorrow. Ironically enough you are thinking the same thing. Wanting him to mark you in every way that he can. Deep down hoping he wouldn’t care what people will hear and just take you the way he wants. The rational part knows he won’t and shouldn’t but is still disappointed. 

“Fuck just look at you.” His large hands are playing with your ass cheeks like their dough. Spreading them he sees your entrance fluttering, begging to be filled like a good girl. A glob of spit leaves his lips, falling right above your entrance to slide down. You moan as his thumb circles it around, making you nice and wet. The digit slips in and out, giving you just barely enough to feel full. 

“Gonna be a good girl and be quiet for me.” He kisses down your spine to get to your ear. “I think you can do it. Wouldn’t want everyone in the hall to know how big of a whore you are.” An involuntary moan slips out. His thumb was replaced with his middle and ring finger. “Knew you would like being called that. Can feel how much your pretty pussy likes it.” Rafe’s fingers are stretching you out nicely.

Fingers curling to stimulate your g-spot. The feeling from yesterday starts to creep up, making it seem like you are going to pee. “Rafe I.” You are trying to warn him but the words can’t come out. They don’t need to because he already knows. Can see it written on your face. Lips parted, eyes pinched shut, and your face digging into the sheets. That’s what he wants for you to lose control to the point you drench everything.

“It’s okay baby. Let it go.” With the confirmation you do. The gushing noise filling your ears, the sheets underneath you getting wet. In hindsight he knew he should have put something down, he just didn’t care. He kinda wanted you to be left with the reminder of what he can do to your body. Your hands are gripping the sheets for dear life. All of your energy being taken out of you.

“Never going to get tired of making you do that.” He gives your left ass cheek a kiss, biting into the flesh. A shriek tears it away from your throat. “Sorry, I can't mark your neck so gotta mark something.” “It’s okay.” Your voice is soft, the post haze of your orgasim still has you under a spell.

Rafe chuckles as you push yourself back on him. Getting the hint that you want him inside, he lines himself up. “Wait, should I use a condom?” He didn’t think about that yesterday but he sure is today. You groan, taking him in your hands and pushing back again. You both moan as he fills you. “Birth Control just pull out.” He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Fleshing pounding into flesh can be heard from the hall, if anyone walked by you would be caught. It probably wouldn’t even matter at this point. Rafe’s hands can’t stay still, having to touch every inch of your skin. You were a mess, having to bite down into your pillow to swallow every moan that leaves your lips. 

In this position he feels bigger than he did before. Hitting a place deep inside you, the pain only makes the experience better. He flipped you around, wanting to see your face again. You make a face when you feel the wet spot on the bed, disgusted to be laying in it. The displeasure fading once he was in you again.

The weight of him was intoxicating. Holding you in place as his hips ram into yours. He brings a hand down to play with you, trying to get you there before him. “Come on, you can do it. I know you want to cum again.” He places kisses on your neck, your fingers intertwining with his hair and pulling. Now that you fulfilled that desire you can say you want to do it again.

With a couple of more thrusts you cum, trembling as he holds you. Only pulling out when he was toeing on the line of cumming inside you. He jerks himself off, rubbing his head on your lips, rutting into your clit. He paints your pussy, making a mess of your bottom half. Out of breath you both lay there. “We should probably clean this bed.” Looking down he can see the huge wet spot you left behind, his cum adding to the mix as it drips down.

“I’ll put them in the wash. You can go sleep in my room.”

The following few days were the same. You would wake up, get dressed as a man and go to classes. Flirt with Rafe any chance you're alone or no one's watching. Pulling each other into empty classes or janitors closets to makeout. The weirdness of kissing someone who looks like a guy left Rafe pretty soon. Only focusing on the fact that the person beneath that was you.

On the last day you two skipped your classes, pretending to be too sick for them. It was wrapped in sheets. Sweating out any toxins from the vigorous exercise. That night he went with you to meet up with Max. Telling your brother everything he was kinda confused at first. He thought Rafe had a thing for you dressed as a man and decided fuck it when he found out you were a girl. But with the reluctant sharing of information he soon realized that was not the case. 

The new plan the three of you created was simple. You and Rafe would still see each other and Max will butter up your parents to be nicer to you. It was the least he could do for all this trouble, which he reminded you didn’t seem as bad considering the facts. It was going well too. The boys get the weekends free, able to go out of campus and hang out. You would go visit on the weekends and hang out with them. Then go back to Rafe’s dorm at the end of the night, staying the weekend.

Max was sick of hearing the two of you from the thin wall shared between the two boys. But he was more sick of the nagging questions everyone asked. He will be walking around campus and people would just stop him to talk. “Hey man. How’s Rafe?” He looked at the guy like he was dumb. “Um, good? We watched the game last night.” The other guy would just smirk and nod. “Right the game. Good for you two.” Max would be confused as the guy walks off. Thinking what the fuck is that guy even on.

It was worse when it was girls that would talk to him. He only had access to them on the weekends and they never seemed interested. “Where’s Rafe today?” A girl would ask. “Oh he’s out with my sister right now.” He would mentally check if he looked good, thinking this might be the time a girl gives in. “That’s so sweet how close they are together. I wish my boyfriend was close to my family.” Either Max doesn’t pay attention or he really is that stupid because he was confused why you would want that. 

Yeah your partner should be close with your family but Rafe is literally fucking his sister, not just having lunch. “Yeah it’s nice seeing them like that.” He would then sit there as the girl talked about her boyfriend, clothes, girl drama, you name it. Max would make the way to his dorm that night stopping at his door when he saw the two of you down the hall. “Hey Cameron.” The two of you greet him. “Anyone say anything weird to you?”

Rafe just shook his head. “Man, everyone here is weird. I don’t pay attention to what they say.” With that you two would be in his room, locked away from the rest of the world. Max just shrugs thinking nothing more of it. That was until the day of the carnival.

Rafe had been defensive when he heard that you would be working the ticket booth. Telling you that there’s no way his girlfriend will be kissing other guys. He only calmed down after you explained why you had to. “I told my mom I would do this weeks before we even met. If I don’t she’ll be upset.” Rafe still wants to argue but from what you’ve told him about your parents he doesn’t.

Let’s be clear. He HATES the idea, he just hates the idea of you being sad even more. So he gives up letting you do it. Which is where you are now. In that stupid booth as guy after guy lines up to kiss you. The first shift was some random girl he doesn’t know so it was fine. Then she went on a break and it was your turn. The first few guys were chasist kisses, if you could even call them that. Then this asshole came in and tried to makeout with you. That was his breaking point.

“Where are you going?” Max questions as Rafe leaves his side. “Going to go kiss your sister. Don’t like how that guy was kissing my girl.” Max groans. It’s been like that since he got back. The two of you and then him, your third wheel. He’s still trying to get used to it. Max trails behind Rafe, agreeing with him for a different reason. These guys seem a little too demanding for some carnival booth.

Rafe cuts the line in the front, some boys from their school protesting. “Why are you even here?” One of them shouts. Rafe turns around shooting them a death glare. “To buy bread. What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” The boys look at each other then at Max and Rafe. “Are you also going to kiss her?” One of them questions Max. “Ewww no. That’s my twin sister.” He starts to gag just thinking about it.

Their confused faces turn to ones of shock. “You’re letting him makeout with your sister?” They all shout at the same time. The line keeps getting shorter, Rafe’s almost at the front. The one guy in front of him and the one currently kissing you. “Why would I care? What they do is their business.” 

The line moves again, your eyes twinkle at Rafe over the guy's shoulder. He turns back to the group behind him. “Not trying to be rude. Obviously your relationship is your own issue. But you really let your boyfriend kiss your sister?” Rafe and Max share the same look, seeing if they heard the boys right. “What the fuck are you on?” Rafe is irritated now. All he wants to do is kiss you but there’s this shit.

Next

“Well no one wanted to say anything but we know you two are together.” This caught your attention. “What do you mean?” The group looks at you. “Well they’ve been seeing each other. There was a straight week were we thought that would fuck in front of everyone. They got better at hiding it.” You can’t help but laugh at this. The whole time you and Rafe thought you were careful and you weren’t.

“This isn’t funny.” Rafe and Max yell at you, only making you laugh harder. “I’m not gay.” Max states. “It’s okay, You don’t have to hide it.” One of them tries to be nice. “He means it and neither am I. I’m dating her.” Rafe points back at you. “The only sex I am having is with my girlfriend. Now I’m you excuse me I think it’s my turn.” 

Rafe walks up, handing you the ticket and kissing you. His hand engulfs your face as he deepens it. “Who kisses better, me or Max?” You joke when he pulls away. “Shut up and kiss me again.” He slams a roll of tickets on the table. 

Looks like you’ll be here a while.

✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷

Tags:@ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist

[gauloiseblue]

Medic!Reader × Poly!141

Part I | Part II | Part III

[Tags: platonic, fluff, self-indulgent]

A/N: This fic is dedicated for @rainlovesyou12 hope you like it <3

You are a medic, and you come from a rich family, so naturally you're placed in an elite team, at least populated by polite men

While you're not a spoiled brat, you sometimes dare to challenge anyone when you disagree with them. Your "courage" is usually dubbed as rich kid syndrome in the military

Strangely, the captain (Price) is amused by your behavior

He never scolded you, even when people said he should

Your job is a medic, but you're more like a secretary of the team.

You help Price with the paperworks, taking care of the base, and sometimes even their foods.

He also asks you to accompany him to meetings or private talks with the superior, the reason? They don't give him a proper secretary, even when they should.

When you first come in, the team is still on a mission. It took 3 whole months before you met the whole team

Your first reaction: "Wow, life's so unfair."

Their heights tower you that it's almost unreal

When you greet them one by one, a member catches your eyes

It's Soap

As a medic, it's your obligation to heal them if they have any injury. So when you see the blood on his clothes, you immediately point it out to him

"You're injured!"

He seems confused for a second as he looks down to his gears, before he laughs. "Tha' ain't my blood, bonnie."

"Still, I have to check if you have any wounds."

Surprisingly, most of them are minor

You begin to check the other members, but it's the same for them too. Just scratches and bruises

They'd dismiss you, if not for your question about their discomfort, or if they had any dislocation

And that makes them all your patients

Even the reluctant Ghost finally gave in. "Fucking hell Price, she's a pushover." He said, "You'll come to like it someday" Price replied

After that, you and the team settle in the base, trying to get used to each other's company

(You also didn't ask questions on why the big man is still wearing a mask even though he's in the base)

Soap, and Gaz are the easiest to talk to, while Ghost is just polite, but still keeps his distance.

The three of you bond over food, because it's mandatory to cook if you wanna save money. You and Gaz are great at it, while Soap is strictly prohibited from entering the kitchen

Soap absolutely ravaged the foods that you joked about how he always makes the plates squeaky clean

On rare occasions, the giant man does show up at the table

When you ask him about what they eat usually, you can't believe your ear

"I ate the ratio that's been provided by the base." "You ate that dogshit???"

You end up scolding him (unintentionally) and end up telling him to eat the cooked food, but when he gets defensive, you tell him he doesn't have to eat together, just reheat the food whenever he's hungry

He didn't touch the food for 2 days, until one day, the leftover is gone, and the dishes were washed

You have no idea when did he do it, but you're glad nevertheless

Remember when I said you're more of a secretary than a medic? That Price often took you to meetings? Well, that leads you to an unfortunate meeting with Graves

Even Price was hesitant to bring you along

When you first met him, he's exactly the man that you picture in your head; arrogant, stuck up, flashy, and playboy. Basically all the bad stuff

He shamelessly flirts with you, to the point that Price has to clear his throat to remind him of the ongoing negotiation

One time he asks you (forcibly) if you'd like a bottle of a fancy wine that you don't even know

"You look like a girl that'd enjoy the Chateau Lynch-Bages' Pauillac." He'd smile

After several failed attempts to decline, you eventually give up

"I'm flattered that you'd give me such luxurious items, but I'd love to receive basic ingredients for cake. That way I can repay you back, how's that sound?"

He literally takes it as flirting

The next day, you literally received the high quality flour, eggs, sugar, etc etc that come in 2 boxes, along with a message: "While I hope you'd return the favor in some other way, I can't wait to taste what you made" and a scribbled wink

You end up baking a peanut caramel chocolate cake (A/N: try it, it's soooo good) because of the amount of chocolate he gave

The team watch you as you assemble the cake

You cut the cake into a good size for gift, and give the rest to the team

They treat it like a delicacy

After you sent it via his man, you received his reply on the next day

"I know you didn't give me all of the cake, so I hope you'll make up for it the next time. Ps. I like it, you should make more for me in the future" along with the abominable wink

Although you're irked by his narcissism, you feel a bit embarrassed and puzzled that he knew it's not the whole cake

You try to figure out how, and finally it clicks; he purposely bought a bigger size pan, and a medium sized box. Along with the evidence of a long rollcake box that somehow can fit the rest of the cake. You sigh, this man is really petty

And stubborn as well

The pile of unopened letters, with his name signed on the back would be the proof of it

Soap and Gaz tease you about him when they read the notes, but you dismiss them by saying: "I'd rather date Ghost than him."

Fast forward, Price and Gaz'll leave for a mission for months. But Soap and Ghost stay behind

Weeks would pass relatively quiet, and they're still radio silent. You couldn't help but worry, though Soap quickly assured you that they'd be fine

Ghost still kept a distance between you and him, until one night, when you and Soap fell asleep on a movie marathon, you woke up startled by the sight of him on the sofa.

"Shit, you scared me."

"I'd be surprised if you didn't."

"Why are you here?" You quickly corrected yourself, "It's not that you're not welcomed, but you're not around much, so…"

"No reason, just feel like it."

Silence

Then you gather the courage to say, "By the way, I'm glad that you didn't eat those ratios anymore. Let me know if you crave something in particular, I'll try to make it."

He just stares at you, before saying, "I don't understand, Price can just order takeouts for us, why should you burden yourself with cooking? Aren't you a medic?"

"Well," you scratch your head, "I'm the one who suggested it, because I couldn't stand eating takeouts everyday. The foods he ordered were greasy, and I didn't want to get sick because of it."

He lets out a snort, "You don't have to care about your weight when you're in the military."

"It's not about that." You shook your head, "But if you said it that way, well, I won't be here forever, so I have to maintain it somehow. Besides, I'd like to keep my cholesterol level normal so I won't die of heart failure or something."

That catches his attention as he gives out a small laugh, "The doctors I knew are either dead or diabetic. You're the first one that cares about your own health."

You shrug, "As I should. You should too."

For a split second, you let out a cold sweat, wondering if it somehow offends him for some reason, before you let yourself relax when he continues watching the TV. The two of you watch in silence, before you fall asleep again

Nearing the arrival of your team, you decide to busy yourself with dinner. Which, more like grocery shopping and planning on the dishes

"They usually eat pizzas after a long mission, ye don't have to do that." Said Soap one morning

"I don't care if they end up ordering pizzas." He furrows his brows at you, "I just feel the need to do that, I don't know why."

He playfully grins, "Wife instinct?"

"That's not it," you laugh it off, "It's just that, Price ever said to me that maybe one day, one of them won't ever come back. It has stuck with me ever since, and I don't wanna think about that at all."

He nods understandingly. You need a distraction

"Let me help then."

You both settle with beef bowl, eggs, and potato salad, based on his input that 'they'd probably want to eat a lot, so just make them easy to get refill'

You bought a ton of sliced beefs and onion, rice, and potatoes

The day that they come back, you're hit with a bad feeling and fear the worst, but after seeing them both in one piece, you let out a relief sigh

Still, the dark mood is still persistent

They look like they don't have any appetite, even for a pizza

You actually would let them rest, if they didn't look like they're malnourished

(Actually, when you think back, it's just an excuse to feed them. You actually just want them to eat your food)

"Would you guys like a beef bowl?"

Price perks up at the offer

"Well shite (Name), just what I need."

You tell him there's also potato salad, but that day he just wants the rice

They end up eating one portion—a small size compared to what they usually eat

They're still quiet even after the dinner, so you decide to excuse yourself, giving them space and the rest they need

You're in the office, sorting through documents until Price knocks on the door

He looks weary but still offers you a smile

"I'm sorry for being so gloomy tonight." He told you

"That's fine, really. You don't have to apologize."

"I feel like I have to, especially when you too are affected by it."

You let out an awkward chuckle, "Well, it's nothing like that. I know you guys are tired so I don't wanna bother you with too many questions." You shrug, "Anyway, I'm glad you guys are alright."

A warm smile spreads on his lips, "You're a good girl, too good for us men." He uncrosses his legs as he leans away from the door frame, "Thank you for the food, we'll talk again tomorrow, yeah?"

The two of you exchange a "goodnight" as he walks away, and you come back to your work

After Price, you didn't expect anyone to come to your place again, until the second person showed up at your door. You lift your head and see Gaz standing there, almost shyly

"Oh hey." You greet him, "Didn't see you there. Need anything?"

"Hey." He greets back, "No, I don't need anything. Just checking on you."

You tilt your head, face clearly shows a questioning look but you cover it with a smile

"Uh, y'know what? I wish I could tell you what happened, you must've been worried about—"

"Oh, no, no. You don't have to tell me. I don't wanna know either." You offer him a reassurance, "Don't worry about it, Gaz."

He seems relieved upon hearing that

"You're right." He said, "But it doesn't mean that I can't tell you funny stories."

He pulls up a chair as he begins to tell you stories from the mission. From the horrible dad jokes, and a moment when Price slipped on the ladder. In exchange, you tell him about your encounter with Ghost, which makes him laugh

It actually surprises you to hear Gaz telling you stories and all. You assume that he only does it to cheer you up, or that's just his way to destress. Either way, it's nice to have a company like him

He'd keep going if you didn't remind him of the time, and you have to force tell him to sleep, promising that you'll talk tomorrow again

The next day, you're surprised to find almost all of the members are in the kitchen. Chatting and eating the leftover beef with reheated rice

All of them, except for Soap, but it's because he hasn't wake up

You didn't want to admit it, but seeing the pan empty makes your pride swell

You join their talk as you sit on the table, and they immediately complain about you not making enough batches for breakfast in a humorous way. You complain back by saying you didn't get paid enough for this

And that leads them to protest about the food budget to Price

He just sighs

By the time Soap joins in, all the food is already gone. And he's pissed about it

"You gotta order pizza for today." Gaz jokes

"Fookin' cunt."

As the conversation flows, Price announces something so suddenly, that you doubt your hearing

"What did you say?"

"You'll be on the same mission as us next month. Pack up and be prepared."

Gaz whistles, "We won't be doing paperwork then?"

"She'll focus on being a medic, so she won't be doing your paperwork."

He groans

"That's… great news." You responded when they all stared at you, "When will we be leaving again?"

"Exactly one month from now." He explained before he sighed, "But don't be too happy yet, because it's not easy to be stationed in the red zone. I know you can handle it but still." He shook his head, "The bad news is, and you wouldn't like it when you hear it but, the person who requested your assistance… Is Graves."

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

hi!!! congratulations on your 1k followers!! your blog is so great and you deserve each one of them!! i wanted to request a ficlet with the following picks: P, zombie apocalypse au, hurt comfort and 🔪!! can't wait to see what you come up with, congratulations again!! -@steveseddie

Aw, that's so lovely, thank you! This one was a lot of fun to figure out, and of course it has grown a little plot already. 😅

My world ends (without you)

Rated: E (for blood and violence)

Words: 997

Tags: Zombie Apocalypse AU; Established relationship; Blood and violence; Steve Harrington whump

One time, shortly after they lost Eddie, Max asked Steve if he never got mad. She didn't look at him, just continued staring ahead, knees hugged to her chest. Her face was dotted crimson from their latest run-in with the dead, like a smattering of extra freckles.

“Do you even care at all? About what happened to Eddie?” 

“Of course,” Steve said, fingernails digging crescents into his palm. “He was my friend.” 

She huffed. “Friend, yeah. Whatever. Point is, I'd be furious at these undead fuckheads, but you? You're so calm. I don't get it.” 

Steve hummed, thinking about how to explain. 

“Of course I'm mad,” was what he settled on. “But you gotta keep a level head, or you'll do stupid things. I got you kids to protect. And besides, you think those undead fuckheads asked for this? It's the damn virus that's screwing us all over.” 

It's funny how he remembers this now, months later, huddled into the shelter of a tree and peeling his pants away from his bleeding leg. Part of him is still hoping it's something else - that he cut himself falling through that window, that one of his last bullets ricocheted and got him, fuck, please anything but this. 

But it is. 

The teeth marks in his flesh, the way the wound is already festering and turning black, tell him all he needs to know. 

“Fuck!” he swears, falling backwards and staring up at the darkening sky through stinging eyes. His hand twitches for his gun - he'd rather end it now than happening upon Robin or the kids later - but then he remembers he's out of ammunition. There's nothing he can do. 

Nothing but lie here and let the fever take him and hope that whoever finds him puts a quick end to it. 

*

He doesn't expect to wake up again, not as himself. When he does, his head is cradled in someone's lap and for a moment, he thinks he's back at their camp with Robin, that it was all a nightmare. But then he realizes he's still in the forest and the pain in his leg hits him like a ton of bricks. 

“-quite the number on you, huh, big boy?” 

Steve's groan turns into a gasp. 

“Eddie? This isn't real, you're dead.” 

Eddie grins, briefly. It tugs on the big, gnarly scar covering his jaw and the side of his face, just where Steve saw him get bitten. Then, his face settles back into grim determination. 

“How long?” 

Steve blinks against the confusion and the fever. “Huh?” 

“Your leg, Stevie. How long since the bite?” 

“I … I dunno,” Steve slurs. His head is pounding. He's burning inside. “Few hours?” 

Eddie nods. “Gotta be quick then. Sorry, this is gonna hurt like a bitch.” 

He places Steve's head on the ground, bustling around with something in the fire he has built next to their spot.

“What’re you-” Steve starts to say, trying to sit. That's when he realizes his wrists are tied above his head and panic kicks alive behind his ribcage. “Eddie?” 

When Eddie turns, he's holding a knife. The blade is glowing orange.

“No,” Steve breathes, feebly straining against his bonds. “Nonono, Eddie, please!” 

“Hey,” Eddie says. “Remember when we first met?” 

The question comes from so far out of left field that Steve forgets to struggle. Eddie’s eyes are dark and serious in the firelight. 

“You said to make it outta this, we gotta trust each other. You trust me?” 

Steve doesn’t even hesitate. He nods. Eddie smiles, brief but pleased. 

“Then let's go.” 

Something nudges against Steve’s lips, something dry and leathery - a belt. 

“You'll wanna bite down on something,” Eddie says, regret in his eyes. “Believe me.” 

Swallowing down the humiliation burning in his throat, Steve opens his mouth. 

“Atta boy,” Eddie praises, but the joke falls flat between them. “Let's fucking do this.” 

And Steve's world disappears behind a wall of pain. 

*

“Y’know,” Eddie murmurs. He's propped them up against the tree trunk, Steve’s head tucked under his chin, fingers combing Steve's sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. “I'd be lying if I told ya I never thought of tying you up and gagging you with my belt, but this was not what I imagined.” 

Steve scoffs weakly, eyes straying down to his bandaged leg. “Did it work?” 

Eddie shrugs. “Think so. Henry says you gotta cut the infection out before it spreads, but how much time you got depends on a lot of factors. Your fever seems to be under control , so that's good, but lemme know if you develop any unusual cravings. Brains, raw meat, that kinda-” 

“Woah, hold on, who's Henry? Did he …” 

Eddie interrupts his ramble when Steve’s fingers find the new scar on his jaw. He allows Steve to map the shape of it for a while before catching his fingers and pressing a kiss to them. 

“Yeah. He's head of a safe zone, about twenty miles north from here. He's a scientist … well, used to be, and … Stevie, he thinks he knows how to cure it.” 

“What? Eddie, that's incredible, where- We gotta tell the others, we gotta-” Steve has hardly startled upright when Eddie guides him back down. 

“Right now, honey, all we gotta do is let you rest. Plenty of time to break the good news to the others tomorrow.” 

And maybe it's the pain, or maybe it's the blood loss, or maybe it's the overwhelming bliss of having Eddie back, but Steve doesn’t find it in himself to argue. 

“Alright,” he whispers, letting his head sag against Eddie’s chest and allowing the gentle rhythm of his beating heart to lull him to sleep. “Just … don't leave again.” 

Eddie kisses the top of his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.” 

He's broken that promise before. There's no guarantee he won't break it again, not in this fucked up nightmare they live in. But Steve trusts him. 

That has to be enough. 

Man, that Henry sounds like a swell fella, I'm sure nothing will go wrong.

More celebration ficlets

[spiderlandry]

Req: tara carpenter with friends to lovers trope? Btw congrats on over 100💗💗

thanks anon <3 i love tara

100 follower event

warnings/tags: self-doubt(?) mostly fluff, pining

in my mind — tara carpenter

if only you knew what goes on in my mind

Tara never thought it was possible to feel this way about someone, so intensely.

That’s what scares her. The way her heart hammers around you, the way she feels every touch and pull, hears every word like gospel, like you were made to be hers.

But you’re not hers, and she’s not yours. A fact that continues to plague her.

You’d met through Anika a few years ago. It was a normal day on campus when you ran into her, and Anika promptly introduced you to the rest of the group.

Tara fell hard. And fast. She just hadn't known it at the time.

It was like you were everywhere. She saw you on campus all the time, and whenever Anika hung around, you’re with her. How come she’d never seen you?

And thus, Tara befriended you without any other intentions, unknowing of what's to come.

It feels natural, the way you move together. You balance each other out. She can't believe it was after a night of partying and getting drunk, she'd inadvertently confessed to you.

It's hazy, but she remembers.

"Come on," You helped her get into bed, tucking her in after she changed out of her other clothes and into pajamas. "I'll get you some water for the morning, hold on." She whined when you pulled away, but you came back shortly with a glass of water and some tylenol, setting it on the nightstand.

"You know what?" Tara slurred. "We would make sense."

She remembers how you'd narrowed your eyes at her.

"Us, you know." She clarified. "We spend so much time together that we may as well just get married."

"Yeah?" You laughed, thinking it was just her drunk state. "You told me you didn't wanna get married."

"Yeah," she snorted. "But it's you! You're the only one I'd get married to. It's like...you see me, you know? You only make me a better person."

You gaped at her. And then a moment of silence, "Goodnight, Tara."

She doesn't know if the kiss she felt on her forehead was real.

After that night, she couldn't act the same around you, ever. Even Sam notices when she would almost panic when you came over for movie nights or to help Quinn with homework.

It's difficult not knowing how you felt about what she said, neither of you mentioned it in any capacity.

You act the same around her. She's unsure if that's a good or bad thing. You constantly take up space in her brain, even at the most mundane times--when she cooks, she wonders if you'd like the dish she made. When she sees your favorite spot on campus, she wonders why you're not there.

It's always about you.

The progression of your relationship is so natural that Tara doesn't even notice what you're doing.

She forced herself to stop acting weird around you because Sam pointed it out.

It starts with small things: bringing her favorite takeout when you happened to pass by on the street. (It was an hour away, why would you be there? She doesn't think too much about it.)

Then you start to come over more frequently, begin to walk her to campus more often.

You ask her to hang out a lot more. The two of you. Alone.

She almost doesn't notice because you'd spend almost just as much time with her before.

It's when you're both at an ice cream place, you wipe off excess ice cream from the corner of her mouth, that she gawks at you.

"What are you doing?" She doesn't sound mad, more...curious, than anything.

You pull away, "Oh, sorry."

"No, it's not bad, just--" She struggles to find the words. "Why are you...Are we--are we on a date?"

You smile. "Do you want to be?"

"Not fair," she laughs. "Answer my question first."

"No, we're not." You answer, and she tries to ignore the way her heart deflates. "But we can be."

She looks up at you through her lashes, and you push a stray hair away from her face.

"Yeah?" She grins.

You hum, "It would make sense. We would make sense." You recall her words from that night, and she realizes.

"Oh, it's like that?" She raises a brow, smirking. "I'll get you back."

"I can't wait."

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part seven

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: guyssss omg this part AHHHHH

series masterlist // playlist

After your interview, Coriolanus insisted on being discharged so he could go home. If rest was all he required, he could do that at home, is what he told the nurses.

As soon as Tigris had gotten him home and retired to bed herself, he was quietly getting dressed again. If the arena was still going to be used even after the bombing, he had to see what that would mean for you. It couldn't have been rebuilt in a matter of days, and having an idea of what it would look like could possibly give you an advantage that you so desperately needed. The donations were a good start, but he could do more. He had to do more.

He walked all the way there and then to you with a bag on his shoulder and a knee that never seemed to stop aching. He could feel every step he took in his spine, and by the time he made it to the zoo, he was relieved that he could finally take a break. And finally, he could see you.

"Y/N?" You think you're hallucinating from hunger and paranoia when you hear his voice, making you sit up. "Y/N. It's me. Come here." Coryo's voice comes again, and you're quickly standing and making your way over to the bars.

"Coryo." You smile, wishing you could hug him. You still weren't totally sure if he was really there, or if you were slowly losing your grasp on reality. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to see you." He whispers, not hesitating to reach through the bars and grab your hand.

"But, Sejanus said-"

"I got them to discharge me after the interview. All I can do is sleep it off now anyway." He says, lifting your arm to get a closer look at the stitches. It's not like he could do anything to help it now, but he still wanted to make sure it wasn't getting infected.

You let him, and from the warmth in his hands as he touches you, ever so gently feeling the outside of your cut and grasping your hand, you can tell that he's real. "I thought I'd never see you again." You whisper.

"Likewise." He replies, lowering your arm but not letting go of your hand. "Are you okay? Are you in pain?"

"No." You say softly, giving a slight shake of your head. "It's nothing in comparison to what's to come. I'm trying to appreciate what I have."

Coryo is sure that is the nicest and saddest way anyone in the history of the world has ever confessed to being in pain. "You'll be okay." He assures you. "I won't let anything happen to you. I can't. You saved me."

"His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for's power to thunder." You say quietly, a small smile forming on your lips.

"Romeo and Juliet?"

"Coriolanus." You correct him, squeezing his hand where it's still wrapped around yours. "But, I have a confession to make."

"What is it?"

"Now, when I try and remember parts of Coriolanus, all I can truly think about is you." It's true. You tried to remember something from that play for your monologue, to say goodbye and thank him in a way he would easier understand, but instead, all you could think of were his blonde curls against his striking red uniform and his blue eyes against the softness of his skin. For the first time, your mind was empty.

He blushes, but he's sure you can't see it in the poor lighting of the cold night. "Well, your name has only ever meant one thing to me."

"Which is?"

"It's only ever been you."

You don't even realize he's as close as he is until you can feel his breath brushing over your skin, both of you having leaned in closer to hear each other until your foreheads were almost touching.

The cold that surrounded you completely disappeared as your eyes fell shut, lips hardly brushing against his. You both hesitated, at first.

Being stuck in that hospital bed for days only fueled the fire inside Coryo that was slowly burning and churning out smoke that would always led his mind straight back to you. He didn't care if you were 'District', how could he? You were made for him- and you proved that when you chose to save his life over saving yourself from a fate so horrible as a death in The Hunger Games. You weren't 'District'; You were You, and he simmered in the guilt of his rejection of you for days after he had done it. His dishonesty with himself had wasted precious days he could have spent with you, or at least you could have known. Right now, he could have been kissing you for the second, third or fourth time, but now he has to live with the fact that it's possible he'll only ever get to feel your lips on his just once.

Your first kiss wasn't what you imagined it to be. Not at all. You expected that you'd be home, for one, but if you could go back and tell your younger self that you would find your very own Romeo in a blonde boy from the Capitol, she would have laughed in your face. The circumstances would have broken her heart just like they are for you right now. He was gentle, too gentle for the role he was given.

When Coryo pulls away, he's startled to see your cheeks glistening with fallen tears, eyes red once you reopen them. God, how he hates seeing you cry. Especially because of him. Especially if he had hurt you, somehow. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No." You sniff, wiping your cheek on your wrist as you look away. Maybe he doesn't mind seeing you cry as long as you're still looking at him. "It's not your fault I just... I don't know. I'm scared."

You feel annoying for telling him again. He knows. Of course he knows, you've told him so many times.

"I know... I know you are." He nods, reaching out and holding your cheek, urging you to look at him again. "But you're going to be okay."

"I'm not." You smile sadly. "Because I could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me; the carriage held but just ourselves and immortality."

Coryo just slightly shakes his head. "No." He denies the inevitability of your death vehemently. "Listen, I went to the arena. It's completely different in there. There are places to hide, to run, you could get up in the stands or down into the tunnels underneath. You can hide now and wait it out. You can do it."

"I... I'll try." You manage to squeak out, no longer wanting to cry in front of him, making him feel worse than he does.

Coryo nods, looking around behind you to double-check check none of the other tributes are awake. "I brought you some things that may help." He whispers, dropping his hand from your cheek to dig through his bag.

He pulls out a rolled-up scarf, it's hard to discern the colour in the dark as he holds it out to you. "Coryo, I can't take anything in. You know that."

"Please." He pleads. "I need you to take this. It can kind of keep you warm, or you could..." He trails off, watching as you unroll the silk fabric in your hands.

"I can't kill anyone." You remind him. "I won't do it."

"I know. I know that." He nods. "But everyone does things they aren't proud of to survive."

You chew on your lip as you rub the soft material between your fingers.

"Turn around." He tells you, holding his hands out for you to give it back. You hesitate before obeying, handing it back to him and facing the inside of the cage. "You can't carry it in, but I think if you wear it no one will notice." He whispers, gently pushing the strap of your dress down one of your shoulders.

You understand what he's trying to do, so you do the same thing on the other side and pull your arms out, letting the top half of your dress fall down around your waist.

Coryo's breath hitches in his throat as he stares at your bare back. Your skin was bruised and adorned a burn that looked like it came from being thrown across the ground. Your skin was supposed to be clear, untouched, and unharmed, but the state of it doesn't surprise him. He reaches around you, threading the unfolded material under your arms and across your front which you quickly adjust to cover your chest comfortably as he folds it over itself in the back. "Turn." He whispers, planting the softest of kisses on your shoulder as it bumps against the bars. He wanted to touch you, to drag his fingers across your skin and cherish the only time he would ever get to see you so bare, but he couldn't and he knew that.

You shiver from the warm touch, but make a point of turning quickly as he wraps it around you again, and it's just long enough to tie in the front. He helps you, though you could do it yourself, tying it tight and tucking the knot underneath the layered fabric to disguise it better. "Do whatever you need to with it." He tells you again, letting his hands slide over the material where it wraps around your waist.

You nod slightly, looking down at the scarf now tied around you. You felt safer in it already, less exposed. It felt like a hug. His hands slide up until they're pressed against your cheeks once more, and as he looks into your eyes he's hoping you understand how much he needs you to win.

You pull your dress back on, and it perfectly covers the scarf underneath.

"I have one more thing." He adds, reaching back into his bag and pulling out a small, silver compact.

You take it, turning it over in your palm. "Don't open it." He tells you quickly. "Don't open it until you have to. The powder inside is so deadly it'll kill you if you so much as breathe it in. Be careful."

You're quickly trying to hand it back to him, shaking your head. "Coryo, I told you-"

He pushes your hand back, but holds it in his. "I know. Don't use it if you don't want to. But I need you to understand that I will just be sick if I send you in defenseless. I can't let you die knowing I could have done more to help. I would do anything."

You nod, solemnly accepting that you have to take it. "I can't go in there with you, but I will do everything I can from out here. I promise. I'm not giving up on you." He insists. "They'll give me a computer, and I can send you things with the donations people send, and we have tons. Just like I told you. You won't starve. You just have to wait it out."

"Wait it out." You mumble back to yourself, still nodding as you look down at the cold metal compact held in your palm.

"I'll be watching you the entire time. We're in this together, okay? I'll be with you, you won't be alone." He gives you a small, weak smile.

"Okay." You whisper, tears still steadily falling from your eyes. "And then I can go home?" You ask quietly. You knew the answer, of course, but you desperately needed the reassurance.

"Then you can go home." Coryo confirms, squeezing your hands. "And see the stars, and your family, and your cat, and your books." He whispers.

"And you?" You ask, tilting your head at him, smiling with teary eyes.

"I'll come say goodbye." He nods, and your smile fades. Of course you couldn't stay together, but you hadn't even considered life after the games until this moment.

"Yes. Goodbye." Your smile fades into a more sad one.

"But I'll write to you." He promises.

"And I can send you books." Your normal smile returns and he nods.

"I would love that."

"That reminds me-" You tuck the compact into your pocket, dropping his hands and holding up a finger, telling him to wait while you walk away.

You carefully pull the small blanket from Jessup's sleeping form and grab the tattered copy of Romeo and Juliet, bringing it back to him "Here. Take these now, I just wanted to make sure they got back to you."

"Thank you." He nods, taking them back from you. He wasn't sure how he'd get them back otherwise, but he wasn't sure he really cared.

"Will you read it?" You ask, pointing to the book.

"I will. I'm looking forward to it." He smiles, tucking it under his arm. "I have to go, I'm sorry..." He says, realizing that you both needed as good of a night's sleep as you can possibly get. He was sure he wouldn't be sleeping much as it was.

"Of course. Go home, it's cold out." You nod, arms wrapped around yourself and suddenly he feels guilty for taking the blanket. There it was again, that selflessness. You had endless amounts of it- he was still worried you would do something stupid in the games like sacrifice yourself for Jessup, but only time would tell.

"Hey, take my advice, okay? We're a team." He reminds you and you nod. "Don't trust anyone once that bell rings. I mean it."

"Okay, Coryo. I trust you." You agree, wanting him to understand that you really would try your best to listen.

"Good." He nods, turning to look behind him, at the path he was about to take home. He was hesitating and you could tell, he didn't want to say goodbye, so you would.

"Good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow." You hum, a knowing smile on your face that he wouldn't fully understand, but you didn't need him to. It was a goodbye, that much he understood.

"Goodnight." He whispers, running his hand down the skin of your arm one last time before leaving. He couldn't stay forever, even though he wished he could.

When he got home and into bed, he couldn't resist opening the book that you had cradled in your hands just an hour earlier. He flipped through the pages under the glowing, warm light from his lamp, and the pit of sadness in his stomach only grew when he opened to where you had kept a bookmark. The rose he gave you, pressed and dried between the pages to save your spot.

He lifts the rose carefully, his eyes drawn to the words underneath. "But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun."

[slytherizz]

In The Shadow of Us - Sebastian Sallow x Female!MC/Reader

a/n Scene from Chapter 11 of 'ItSoU' commissioned from the incredibly talented @diligentcranberry as a Christmas present to myself - It's so pretty I still cannot stop staring at my traumatised darlings. I never really shared much of my long fics on Tumblr besides the first chapters so here's some smut.

Chapter 11 Tags: Smut | Angst | Post-Azkaban!Seb | Enemies to Lovers | explicit sexual content | explicit language | forced proximity | Only One Bed (life sentence in Azkaban for me and my tropes)

You can read the complete fic on Ao3.

Chapter 11 under the cut...

The streets of Hogsmeade were deserted besides a small grey cat that scurried along the chimney stacks. Perhaps the return of Ashwinders to the area had scared most reasonable people to their beds. But neither she nor Sebastian had ever been reasonable people and they stood oddly calm in the night air outside the familiar tavern she'd apparated them to. 

“I don’t want to go back to Poppy’s - too dangerous. Harlow may be bold but even he’d think twice before darkening Sirona’s door,” she said with a tight smile. Sebastian recalled that first trip to Hogsmead and was pleased to know some things hadn't changed.   

She pushed through the heavy doors of the ancient pub. It was quiet. Where one would usually find patrons huddled in corners, playing cards over stiff drinks there were empty chairs. Where you'd see student that had sneaked out of the castle to drink and sing crude songs of their rival Quidditch teams until Sirona would shoo them out in the wee hours of the morning, there was silence. There would be no stumbling drunken feet of friends and young lovers up the long path to the castle castle tonight.

“Sirona?” she called and her voice echoed through the emptiness. The older witch appeared from behind the bar, her wand in hand as if she expected trouble to come knocking more than revelers these days.

“Oh, there’s a face I haven’t seen in a while. Hello, love-” her eyes landed on Sebastian with a look of surprise, but her eyes softened as she took him in. 

“Hello son, you look like you could use a drink,” she smiled. Sirona looked older, her hair peppered with grey around her temples the creases around her eyes more defined but her manner was familiar and Sebastian felt the tension leave his shoulders. 

Sirona like any good innkeeper, had that innate ability to sense your needs before you had a chance to voice them. With a flick of her wand two glasses of firewhiskey settled on the bar in front of her. Sebastian took a seat on the high stool and took a deep gulp from the glass relishing the burn as the amber liquid slipped down his throat. 

The witch slid into the space seat beside him and took a tentative sip from her own glass with a wince. She never had been able to handle her drink and he laughed slightly at her sour expression. 

"It's good to see you, Sirona," Sebastian said honestly. Sirona had always been kind to him. An aunt like figure to Sebastian and a shoulder to lean on more times than he’d care to remember. She'd seen him grow from a mischievous boy into a troubled young man, but unlike other she had never drawn back from Sebastian. Much like the pub itself Sirona was a constant pillar of support, always open when someone needed it most. 

Sirona poured herself her own glass, and topped up Sebastian's. She leaned back on against the counter on the opposite side of the bar her eye flicked between the two of them. 

"I won't ask exactly what event have led to you both being here tonight," she gestured between them amused "I know you can't tell me about your work dear, as much as I'd love to know the details - my guess it has something to do with Harlow."

"You're too perceptive for your own good, Sirona," the auror chuckled. "I promise, you'll be the first to know when this is all over."

"I hope so. Business has been dreadful, the inn is doing well but my bar sales..." she grimaced "Hogwarts is practically under lock down and even I'm beginning to miss the Gryffindor Quidditch team's terrible singing." 

"No one wants to be on the streets these days so most of my rooms are full. Unfortunatly, you'll have to share." The witch sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and looked at Sebastian nervously through her lashes. It wasn't like they had never slept together before. They had infact done a lot more together than sleep, it was almost amusing how this woman who had fought fully grown trolls at the tender age of fifteen, who had spent the last five years fighting dark wizards; yet Sebastian made her nervous and he luxuriated in the knowlege. He shrugged at her, as he schooled his features into an unreadable mask. Sirona's eyes flicked between them. 

The witch beside him stretched her arms as she yawned and wrinkled her nose at the dirt crusted under her fingernails. 

“It’s the usual place in the attic, dear. The bathrooms just down the hall,” Sirona smiled warmly at her. The witch finished the last dregs from the bottom of her glass, stifled a cough on her sleeve from the burn and slid off the stool to make her way upstairs. 

Sebastian tracked her movements across the bar before she slipped up the stairs. A knowing smiled tugged at the corner of Sirona’s mouth, her eyebrows quirked and he drowned the lump that formed in his throat with a deep swig from his glass.

“I must admit despite the circumstances - it's nice to see you both together again. You two were inseparable as teenagers and both so serious too. I guess with hindsight, I know why…" a sad smile deepened the creases around her eyes. 

"We bring out the worst in each other," he sighed with a shake of his head.

"I'm not so sure. Unfortunately, I think you both would be who you are no matter what. You both had to grow up far too fast, but I think you understand each other in a way others can't."

“Maybe we didn’t understand each other as well as you thought,” he grumbled. If she truly understood Sebastian wouldn't she have stood by his side after everything that happened but her words still rung in his mind -

I would care.

Sirona fixed him with an assessing eye, as if she was peeling him back. As if she could sense every hateful, lusty and confusing thought he’d had of the witch upstairs. Sebastian shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and she softened. 

"Not everyone gets a second chance at happiness, Sebastian. Don't waste yours."

Sirona said it like it was so simple. Like he could erase the last five years if he let himself. Coming from anyone else he would have hexed them. Sirona she met the world through the doors of this old pub, listened to everything from the lamenting of love sick teenager and world weary travelers who'd seen the darkest crevices of this world. He didn't know where his own problems fit in to that scale but he rolled it over in his mind.

A second chance. The words soothed his soul.

***

The summer at Poppy’s had done him good. Sebastian stared at his face no longer gaunt and hollow through the steamed up mirror of the small bathroom in the Three Broomsticks. If it wasn’t for the tattoos that covered his torso and crept up his neck he would barely think he’d been in Azkaban at all.

His clothes no longer hung off of him as he’d regained the strength and despite the nightmares that still haunted him nightly his eyes were no longer framed by dark bruises. The constellations of freckles that peppered his face and shoulder had returned in earnest, dark across his nose and cheeks. He adjusted his towel around his neck to cover the tattoo on his chest and placed his hand over the one on his neck.

This is who he would have been, if he’d never been to Azkaban.

He muttered a scourgify on his trousers before he pulled them on. Spells never made his clothes fully clean and not wanting to dirty himself further he left his dusty shirt in a the wicker laundry basket. Sebastian padded across the hall and hesitated in front of the door. He couldn't hear anything from beyond the door. 

With a long exhale he stilled his breath and rapped once on the door to announce his entrance.

She leaned against the windowsill her arms crossed over her thin nightdress. Her hair was loose from its braids and it fluttered in the warm summer breeze from the window. She watched the streets with a feline stillness, like an assassin on the roof alert and vigilant. Her eyes flicked up to meet his own as the door creaked, announcing his arrival. 

He clicked the door behind him but he could feel her eyes on him. Sebastian raised his eyebrows at her a small smile tugged at his lips at the way her eyes roamed over the bare expanse of his chest. The room seemed stiflingly small, the low vaulted ceiling left little space for more than the bed and a small nightstand. She was propped up on the windowsill, Sebastian leaned beside her and felt the warm air lick over his skin. 

She swallowed audibly and pulled her lower lip between her teeth. He see her from the corner of his eyes scan the bare expanse of his skin. 

"What do they mean?"

"You're an auror, I thought they would teach you this kind of thing?" Sebastian frowned. 

"No."

Sebastian moved in front of her her and caught her hand in his, admiring the way her chest swelled as she held in a tight breath. He brought her fingers to press into neck, his skin tingled under the featherlight touch.

“This is me. Prisoner identification number,” he supplied, as he turned so her fingers could glide down his spine "These mark each unforgivable curse, they found when the Wizengamot surveyed my wand."

Her nimble fingers traced each ugly black stain on his skin in turn. 

Crucio. Imperio. Avada Kadavra.

She lingered over each one, as if they were familiar like she knew they should decorate her own skin. 

Sebastian turned slowly back to face her and took her hand in his once again. Finally, he pressed her palm flat over the one on his chest. Directly over his heart. He knew she could feel how hard it pounded in his chest. Sebastian's face so close to hers, he could feel her stuttered breaths against his freckled cheeks.

"This is my sentence. Life In Azkaban." She sucked in a breath through her teeth. 

Sebastian didn’t want to explain the one on his wrist. The one he scratched at more fervently than the others. A particularly cruel form of punishment designed especially for him. When they peered into my mind, saw what tortured him most; It was always her. They’d inked her name in their ancient texts.

They stared into each other for what felt like an eternity. He waited for her to pull back, to recoil from him. Waited for his own body to do the same; to remember every aching moment of the past five years. But with her hand still pressed against his skin, her eyes boring into his own every rational thought burned away.

Sebastian wanted to be the version of him that stared back at him from the mirror. The one that did not bear the weight of the last five years. 

He let his lips ghost across hers.

Sebastian wondered if this was some new form of torture and this was some feverish fantasy of a man slowly dying in Azkaban. Or if they'd chained him to her on purpose, the only one who made him feel blood boiling hatred and blinding desire. A kaleidoscope of feelings, brutal, dirty and wonderful. To make him lose every rational thought in his body as her mere existence overwhelmed him before they ripped it away. 

She whimpered into the hairbreadth distance between his lips and hers. A pleasureful little sound that made some primal part of Sebastian practically purr with need. With one hand still pressed to his chest her other to wrapped around his neck to roughly pull his lips to hers in a feverish kiss.

Sebastian’s hands fisted into her hair, drawing her into him. The taste of her, the feel of her pressed against him made him feel like the world tipped on its axis. He nipped needily at her bottom lip and she gasped, granting him access to flick his tongue between her now parted lips.

She kissed him back feverishly, her own tongue collided with his own. He knew no one had touched her like this and it was like they’d both been starving. Her lips hungry against his own.

But he needed more.

In his desperation to feel as much of her as he could, hold her to him so she couldn't be stolen from his grasp Sebastian maneuverer her back until she collided with the wall. He pressed the entirety of himself against her, shamelessly dragging his hands along her curves.

He knew he was being rougher than he’d ever been as his hands groped every inch of her. But he was a man starved of touch for so long and he clung to her as if his very life depended on it. She seemed to crave that hardness as much as he did, as she ground her core against him where his leg had nestled between her thighs. Her fingers clung to his shoulders; her nails decorated half-moons amongst the splattered freckles. He hissed with delight at the pleasureful pain, as it broke through the numbness he’d felt for so long.

He grasped her chin to access her neck, to trail fire down her skin as he nipped at her thundering pulse. His teeth grazing every inch of her throat.

Sebastian snaked down the dips of her curves, to pinch and knead at her sides through the fabric as he worked his way to the hem of her nightdress. He slipped under her skirt to squeeze her backside and he savoured the vibrations in her throat against his lips from the groan that escaped her lips.

With how soft her skin was against his calloused hands he wanted – no needed to feel more of it.

She groaned in protest at the loss of his lips as he pulled the offending garment over her head. As if to stop their passions for even for a second would stifle the flames.

Sebastian stopped his assault on her skin to drink her in. His hands swept over the curves, fuller than he remembered, over the puckered skin of faded battle scars. In the soft lamp light, her hair unbound and wild, her lips swollen and her chest heaving she looked fucking exquisite.

She pulled him back into her roughly, her teeth knocked against his as her tongue delved into his mouth once more. Her fingers entwined in his chestnut hair, he shuddered as her nails scratched against his scalp. Sebastian hands resumed their assault, exploring ever dip and curve of her exposed flesh he’d devoured with his eyes. Intoxicated by the way her nipples pebbled as he grasped her breasts in his calloused hands. He captured the needy mewls that escaped her as he rolled them between his fingertips.

Sebastian trailed his hand between the peaks and down her stomach. His fingers grazed the sensitive spot between her thighs through the lace of her knickers. He chuckled against her lips as he slid his hand beneath the already damp material. Her folds were already slick and needy. Her lips didn’t say it, but her wetness told him she craved him as much as he did her. He stroked tantalising circles the small bundle of nerves, savouring every moan and whimper against his lips. He could feel her heart hammer in her chest. She ground her hips against his fingers as her eyes fluttered closed as a waves of pleasure crashed over her.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Her eyes snapped open to meet his own, she looked at him through hooded eyes “I want you to know it’s me - Who does this to you. Makes you feel like this.”

Her lips were parted as if she was going to respond but any words died on her lips as he slid a finger inside of her. Sebastian crooked his finger to find that spot inside of her that made her knees buckle. Her head lolled back against the wall with a throaty cry, barely held up by her weaked legs but her eyes never left his. He nipped at her throat approvingly.

Sebastian was achingly hard and strained against his trousers. He relished the friction of where his cock was rutted against her thigh. The scent of her own arousal coupled with the feel of his own was a heady concoction. He wanted to feel her climax under the entirety of him not just his fingers.

He withdrew sharply from her; a groan escaped her at the loss but Sebastian was quick. He unbuckled his belt and tore the leather from around his hips. His hands groped her perfect backside, as he lifted her up. She yelped in surprise, but her thighs instinctively squeezed round his middle. She kissed across his freckled face, and nipped at his earlobe as he carried her.  

Sebastian flung her onto the mattress and it creaked under her weight. He shoved off his trousers and underwear in one swift motion. His hard cock arching proudly, relieved to finally be released from the confines of his trousers. He prowled up the bed towards her and she lifted her hips so he could peel her knickers down her legs.

He ran his hands along her shapely calves and trailed his mouth along her stomach. He took her nipple in his mouth; he flicked his tongue over the bud whilst his hand re-found the bundle of nerves at her core. He circled it twice before teased two fingers into her entrance, she groaned and rutted her hips shamelessly against his fingers. She wanted him, her kiss swollen lips wouldn’t say it, but her body couldn’t lie.

She clasped at his freckled cheeks and pulled his lips to hers again. He growled with satisfaction as moved her legs apart expectantly. Caged under the full weight of him she wanted to feel all of him, between her legs.  

Sebastian aligned himself with her entrance and paused to savour the lusty look in her eyes. Sprawled out below him, bare and wild like a nymph from some Greek tragedy that would surely be his undoing. They would be each others undoing. 

She wouldn’t say it, but he knew he needed to hear it from her swollen lips. 

“Beg me for it,” he growled low in her ear, his nose burrowed into her tangled hair.

“W-What?” she stammered. Her pupils were blown wide, and he savoured the mix of confusion and lust that swam in her eyes. He knew she wanted him. He could feel it between her thighs. But he wanted her to proclaim it, to know he wasn’t mad to think this was something she didn't just want but needed; just desperately as he did. 

“I said - Beg. Me.”

“Please-” she murmured as her hips inched towards him.   

“You can do better than that,” he purred, as he teased his hardened length across her folds once more making her groan.

They both knew this was insane. But if he was going to succumb to complete blinding madness, throw all rationale away; then she was coming down with him.

“I want you- I need you inside me. Sebastian, please,” her fingers scratched across his freckled shoulders in a desperate attempt to pull him inside of her.

Sebastian practically purred with delight to hear her beg for the man she’d condemned. Satisfied he sheathed the entirety of himself inside of her with one strong thrust. Her eyes rolled back and her eyelashes fluttered as she arched her back as he filled her. The feel of her pulsing heat around him almost sent him immediately over the edge. He released a groan of his own, low, and deep.

This was not the tender explorative touches of teenagers it had once been.

With every deliberate thrust into her, he drew incomprehensible moans and pleas to deities from her lips. Her hips bucked to meet each stroke as she writhed under him. Her calloused fingers mapped his skin, over each tattoo along his spine. Each one a mark of the sordid past they shared. She traced every freckle in every impossible spot no one had seen but her. The sensation of each featherlight touch and rough scratch sent shivers cascading through him.

Sebastian’s mouth fixed on her neck, leaving red welts where he sucked at the skin like he could replicate the branding of her that marked his own skin. To claim what had always been his.

As he ground his hips against her and she arched her back in approval, Sebastian wrapped his arm through the vacant space below her. He hauled her up to leave more bites along her chest. His other hand fisted possessively into her hair as if he despite the impossibility he could be closer to her. Each frantic thrust brought incoherent curses and praise from her lips. He felt dizzy with how her hips jerked demanding as much of him as she could, with how perfectly he fit inside her even after all this time.

Her nimble fingers pushed his still wet hair from where it had dropped into his eyes. She pressed her lips to his to absorb the curses and moans he hadn’t even realised were spilling out of his own mouth.  

Sebastian caught her trembling leg behind her knee in a bruising grip to hitch it up. To roughly plunge himself deeper inside of her, she released a strangled cry of approval. Her legs were strong from years of fighting, but he admired the valleys and dips he created in the soft skin of her thighs with his fingers. Her breathing hitched becoming more frantic as the angle pushed her to new heights of bliss. Every rasped moan spurred the motion of his hips as he eagerly chased the sounds only he could draw from her.

He could feel her body begin to tighten and pulse around him in a way that was maddening. Sebastian was desperate to feel her peak, but his body had a mind of its own as he thrust into her desperately, he knew his own release build deep in his gut. The last coherent part of his brain not overtaken by an animalistic need guided his hand down her stomach to stroke her clit. The overwhelming sensation of his cock and his fingers had her keening and stuttering as she began to crest her peak.  

“Say my name,” his voice no more than growl, as he struggled to hold back his own release.

Amongst the other senseless words that escaped her she cried his name. Loud and desperate from her swollen lips; an intoxicating sirens call, he would follow willingly to a watery grave. She hauled him down to bring his full weight on top of her as she climaxed. The way she said his name, even when she was near delirious, practically vibrating as she rode her orgasm.

To know he was the one who made he feel like this. The only one who could make her skin feel like it was on fire. The only mans name she’d ever cried when her earth shattered.

He slammed into her hard and fast prolonging that feeling of ecstasy for as long as long as his own frenzy would allow. But the feeling of her trembling release, and the continued raspy gasps of his name made his hips faulter. His teeth bit into her shoulder to muffle her own name that slipped from his lips in a guttural moan as he released inside her.

Sebastian’s chest heaved as his heart rattled against his ribcage, as he came down from his own earth-shattering bliss. They stayed like that for a while, his head pressed into the crook of her neck, still inside her to the hilt. Every inch of his skin where they were connected felt like it was on fire.

He didn’t kiss her again.

Sebastian rolled off of her, and she whimpered slightly at the loss of him inside her. They lay there together, sheets tangled around their limbs their minds fogged from their shared ecstasy.

Her mallowsweet scent was on the sheets, on his skin; it soaked into Sebastian’s mind. It silenced intrusive questions that simmered in his mind about what they’d just done. He knew they would come; he’d have to face them eventually but for now he wanted to pretend things were different.

So, for the first time in years - Sebastian slept and didn’t dream.

***

Sebastian woke as the dawn light streamed through the curtains. Golden hues illuminated the witch still curled beside him. The sheets tangled around her doing little to hide the curve of her hips, her hair fanned out around her like a halo.

He groaned and rubbed his eyes. His brain felt loud as too many questions bubbled to the surface and made his head spin.

She stirred slightly when the mattress dipped as he climbed out of bed, but she buried her head back into the pillow. Sebastian released a relieved breath he didn’t realise he was holding. He needed to clear his head before he was ready to face her. He pulled on spare clothes from the nightstand Sirona had left out for him and slipped out the door.

It was the crack of dawn and Hogsmead was still very much asleep. He walked the empty cobble streets and tried to make sense of the complicated cocktail of emotions that bubbled in his chest. Sebastian seemed to be existing in a plane somewhere between self-loathing and infuriating yearning. 

Sebastian didn’t know what this meant for him, let alone for her. For them.

Could a version of them even exist anymore? Sebastian wondered if he even wanted it to. As much as he wanted to pretend the past five years hadn't happened they had and like a self fulfilling prophecy she had gotten under his skin, clouded all rational thoughts and distracted him from his mission once more. 

He’d began his slow plod back to the Three Broomsticks, resigned to the fact that he must face her eventually. He hadn't quite decided whether he wanted to pretend it had never happened or make her scream his name a hundred more times when a figure stepped into his path.

Sebastian froze, his hand instinctively reached for his wand. He cursed himself for being so wrapped up in thoughts of her that he’d left it in his old clothes. He squared his shoulders and met the amused stare of the stocky man in front of him.

“No need for dramatics, Sallow. I’m not here to hurt you,” chuckled Harlow. Sebastian should be shocked a wanted man like Harlow would appear so brazenly in the streets of Hogsmead. Maybe his own actions had last night had tapped him out and nothing could suprise him more than himself.

Much like Sebastian, months on the outside had brought a fullness back to Harlow’s face. Although no longer hollow cheeked his fine clothes did little to hide the ancient letters branded across his neck. But perhaps Harlow wasn’t trying to hide them, didn’t feel them burn into his skin as Sebastian did.

“Some how I find that hard to believe,” Sebastian ground out through clenched teeth. If it wasn’t for the knowledge that the auror would probably have to scrape what was left of Sebastian off the cobbled streets he would have launched himself at Harlow and tried to rip him apart with his bare hands.

“Come on now mate, we’re friends, aren’t we? Besides - I owe you, Sallow. With all our little chats, you’re the one who gave me my grand idea,” Harlow said with palms to the sky. His open face and arms mimicked the posture of a pious man of the cloth so at odds with the man Sebastian knew him to be.  

Sebastian’s felt the bile rise in his throat. What idea had he given him?

“I was thinking too small. Blackmail, bribery - why do all of that when I could be Minister of Magic? Wielder of dark ancient powers. Get revenge on the girl who locked us both away. Who could stand in my way? You understand don’t you, what it’s like to have that kind of power at your fingertips. What it would feel like to make them pay. Clever I admit, earning her trust before stabbing her in the back,” Harlow cast a wry eye over the collection of bruises that had formed below Sebastian’s jaw, and he chuckled. “She is a pretty little thing I admit. Don’t blame you for wanting to fuck her first.”

“You can’t get to the repositories. The goblins tried, it’s pointless-” Sebastian began. 

“I don’t need those repositories; I already have enough from what the goblins took to fix this,” his yellowed teeth broke into a wide smile, as he presented the pieces of the broken relic from the catacomb. That’s what Bettie had been desperately clutching to her chest “Then I can take her power for myself.”

The relic.

The one that could control the dead, dark magic and grant you any impossible desire if you paid it in blood. A man like Harlow would not be far pressed to provide it with a dark sacrifice it demanded. 

Sebastian felt a blood grow cold in his veins. Sebastian had spilled his secrets to the man beyond the wall and now they were all going to pay for it.

“I’ll see you round mate. Give her one for me will you,” Harlow winked. He whistled as he strode off through the vacant streets leaving Sebastian alone.

***

Sebastian stumbled back to the pub in a daze. His mind raced so fast he felt like it couldn’t remember how to breath and choked the air out of his lungs. Sebastian pushed into the attic room, desperate to feel his wand between his fingers, find the safety in his own magic.

The witch lifted her head woken from her slumber by his heavy footsteps. She greeted him with a sleepy smile.

No soft smiles could shake the panic from Sebastian’s bones. His jaw was clenched, shoulders stiff and his knuckles white where the ligaments in his hand strained against the door handle.

How can he tell her he’s the reason Harlow was after her ancient power. That he, however unwillingly, had given the man who’d designed his sisters pain all the tools he needed to spread it like a unstoppable poison.

This was his fault. He wondered if the world had always been right and Sebastian Sallow truly was cursed.  

She looked wounded at the frown that twisted his face and she drew the sheets tighter around herself protectively. Sebastian knows what this must look like. Like he must regret their night together. That last night was just one moment of madness.

She’ll think last night was a mistake eventually so why not cut to the chase. Save himself the pain of thinking he could be anything but cursed.