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itz-mfkn-de · 16 days

Text

\\ALWAYS YOU//. M.R

warnings— OOC MATTHEO, Im a sucker for toxic boys but I made him extra sweet in his one idk why, uhhh not many tbh, cussing, kissing, smoking, that’s all I think.

summary— Mattheo was your best friend, always had been, but was the title of ‘friend’ enough?

-my first work for Mattheo! I will eventually get a master list going once I get more comfertable posting on here. This is a repost of one of my works on wattpad, just with some tweaks bc that work was olldddd-

You sat against mattheos 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 out of his dorm window.

"You know, some times, I'm worried for you. You just stare at things, it's weird." He snickered as he took a drag from his cigarette.

You looked at him and scoffed, "Sometimes I'm worried about your lungs, you're bound to get some type of problem with all that's smoking you do." You half-joked, glancing at him.

He rolled his eyes, tilting his head up and blew the smoke out of his mouth.

"Seriously Mattheo, that stuff is absolute horse-shit for your body." You stated, accompanying your words with a sharp glare.

"I don't do it that often, just when I'm stressed." He muttered, taking his feet off of his desk and turning his body to face you.

"What happened to the whole 'I don't give a fuck about anything or anybody but myself' thing?" You said, mocking him to the best of your abilities.

"First of all I don't fucking sound like that," he laughed and squinted at you "second, just stressed about life, nothing in particular."

You softly chuckled at his reaction. His eyes broke from yours, looking at some papers on his desk. Your eyes, however, never left his frame. You could stare at him for eternity, everything about his face seemed so perfect, almost as if it were meant to be admired.

You soon realized your staring and quickly averted your gaze towards the window again.

"You gonna go to the Yule ball this year?" You broke the silence, you knew Mattheo hated those things, he hated having to be around a shit ton of people and act like he enjoyed their company.

"Probably not." His demeanor changed, his tone became short, almost snappy.

"Oh, I'm probably just gonna go with Becca." You mumbled, knowing that if no guy was to ask you, Becca had your back.

"Hm." He nearly laughed at your remark.

"What? What's so funny?" You asked, looking back at him, his back still facing you.

"Just surprised you aren't going with a random slytherin guy or something." He answered, but the way he had said it has a strange undertone that you weren't sure how to feel about.

"Well I mean I don't know, I haven't been asked yet." You stated truthfully.

"Ah, I see." He murmured, soon after taking another drag of his cigarette.

You felt tension building in the room, suffocating tension. You weighed your options out, but you decided it would be better to give Mattheo some space, for what you were unsure of.

"Well, Becca and Emma told me they wanted to go dress shopping earlier so I think I'm gonna head over there so we can solidify our plans." You announced while picking up your books and putting them in your bag.

"Bye Mattheo." You said while walking out of his dorm, expecting a response.

You shut the door when you got nothing, you mind raced with the possibilities on what could've caused mattheos strange behavior.

Maybe he'd just had an off day? No that couldnt have been it, he was fine moments before his attitude took a turn.

Perhaps he was just having mood swings, you wouldn't be surprised with all the trash he puts in his body.

You stuck with that story and walked back to your dorm, which was on the other side of the slytherin tower.

You reached it, setting your things down, then quickly turned around and nearly raced to your friends dorm.

The second you reached it, You waisted no time to jump on her bed, causing her to jump.

"Yes, of course you can come into my room unannounced and lay on my bed." Becca said sarcastically. She had been digging through her closet in an attempt to find a dress.

"Sorry, I just need to vent." You said while propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Go ahead." She sighed and laid her body weight

"Okay so, there's this guy. He's like my best friend, but.."

She raised her eyes brows, signaling you to continue.

"But I want us to be more, or atleast I see him as more than a friend. I just feel like no matter how hard I try I can't get him to open up, he just.. won't." You groaned.

"And everytime I get this sliver of hope that I've made progress, he just completely shuts down, leaving me in the dark confused and a little bit heartbroken!" You borderline screamed, your face shoved into her mattress.

"Okay, uh, let's calm down. If he's not showing any signs of being interested maybe you should just, move on- well attempt to at least." Becca stated ,rubbing your back.

You shut your eyes, truly taking in your friends words. “hey Yknow what will make you feel better?” She nearly jumped with excitement. “Going to look for a dress in town.”

You knew she only had good intentions but the words kept echoing through your head. The thought of keeping Mattheo as a friend hurt, but it seemed to be all you could do at this point without ruining your friendship.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe you needed to accept Mattheo

was just a friend.

All you could think about was the Yule ball. Over the next few weeks the days flew by, the anticipation growing larger with each one passing.

Of course you had been asked by some sweet guy from the Ravenclaw house, and, taking Becca's advice, you said yes.

There was nothing wrong with him, he just..he wasn't him.

You had decided to get ready alone, slipping into a beautiful green dress you and Becca had picked out. You finished your hair and makeup, looking into your vanity mirror.

You felt beautiful.

You smiled softly at how well you had dolled yourself up.

Glancing up at the clock, you rushed out of your dorm room, realizing it was the time you and your date had agreed to meet at the entrance by.

You walked gracefully through the halls, a large smile adorning your face. Your heels tapped softly against the ground. You neared the entrance, your breath becoming shallow from the nerves.

Then you saw Becca, she was wearing a beautiful Maroon dress. She looked absolutely breath taking.

"Hey!— oh my gosh." Becca looked at you, her jaw dropping.

"You look stunning! Like some type of goddess...." She said barely above a whisper.

"Becca! Stop, you can't be talking, I forgot how to breathe the moment I saw you." You hugged her.

You were about to continue praising her and her beauty, but before you could comment you heard someone call your name.

"Y/n..wow.." he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

You turned around to see your date, who was wearing a very clean red and black suit.

"Oh my gosh hi! Sorry for being a tad late, I lost track of time while getting ready!" You made your way next to your date, not before Becca gave you a sly smile and a push, leaving to go with her specimen she had chose for the night

"It's okay.., you look amazing." He had said, taking your arm into his. He began to lead you into the ballroom.

"Thank you, I must say, you cleaned up nice." You smiled sweetly at him.

You and him entered the large room full of people, everything was elegant and royal, not a single speck of dust on anything.

You looked around the large room as your date led you down the stairs, you couldn't lie, you felt like a princess. The beautiful architecture of the room, complimented by your stunning dress, felt like something straight out of a fairy tale.

Once you had made it to the bottom of the staircase, you excused yourself away from your date in an attempt to go find Becca again.

You stumbled past groups of people, many of them were couples having a romantic moment.

You tried your best not to run into anybody, you dodged dancing bodies and nearly jogged across the dance floor.

You almost missed him.

You almost walked right by him.

You almost could've saved yourself the heartbreak.

But no you saw it—him with some random Hufflepuff girl.

The way he whispered in her ear, the way she giggled a little too sweetly, everything.

It all made you wanna cry—or throw up, which one that would be you weren't quite sure about yet.

"Y/n?" Theodore came beside you and patted your back.

"Theo-Theodore, I thought Mattheo wasn't coming to the dance?" You struggled to get your words out as your eyes darted between the scene before you and Theodore.

"Oh—uh yeah, he wasn't gonna originally, but some girl asked him and I guess he took a liking to her because usually he just brushes everyone off." Theo answered.

"Oh, I see, I just came to say hello. I'll be on my way now." Before Theodore could argue with your strange behavior you turned your back and walked as quickly as you could back to were your date was.

You abandoned the idea of going to find Becca, you couldn't accidentally run into Mattheo and his.. friend again.

Instead you decided that distracting yourself with your date would be the best thing for your heart at the moment.

"Hey, sorry , I just saw a friend and got distracted." You said, out of breath.

"Oh. Don't even sweat it, I'm just glad you didn't run away and not come back." He joked, dragging you towards the dance floor. You couldn't help but laugh at his bubbly personality. It was a nice change of speed.

"I hope you like to dance." His hands fell onto your hips, yours made their way to his shoulders.

"I actually hate it." You smiled at him.

"How unfortunate." Your smile grew when he matched your energy. You nearly forgot what you had seen a couple moments ago.

But alas, you didn't.

You could feel your chest tightening up, the tears bordering you waterline. Just thinking about him touching that girl in any way made you want to breakdown.

"Ex.—excuse me." You tried to excuse yourself as politely as you could.

You didn't want your date too see you like this, vulnerable, heartbroken.

You urgently walked towards any door in your line of sight. When you finally found one, you ran through it.

You just couldn't escape him, no matter how hard you tried. He was at every single corner you turned.

You nearly groaned when you saw him propped up over the balcony, smoking of course.

He hasn't seemed to notice you, still looking out at the stars.

You couldn't do it anymore, you couldn't spend one more fucking second acting like you weren't in love with him.

The sad part was you'd rather be his friend than him hate you and be nothing at all. As long as he thought about you, you'd be okay.

That's what you had been telling yourself, but you couldn't hold onto that lie anymore.

"Mattheo." You croaked out behind him.

His head shot to the side, looking you dead in the eyes.

"Angel… what're you doing out here." He looked back out to the stars, unable to make eye contact.

"I can't do it anymore." You said shakily.

He turned his full body around this time, his eyes a dark brown. He blew the smoke out of his mouth, the wind pushing it in the opposite direction.

"I can't keep pretending I don't feel this way.., do you know how hard it was to watch you talk to that girl?" You nearly cried out.

"All the girls you fuck with and then bring them to shit like this, I cant keep lying to myself —wishing that it was me instead of her."

You were on the brink of gasping for air, your head pounded. You couldn't believe you had suppressed these emotions for so long. Every single time you went to Mattheo's dorm, you could barely restrain yourself from kissing him.

Before you could continue on with your speech

Mattheo had forced you against the wall.

His lips met yours in a harsh collision. In an almost immediate reaction, your body responded to his actions, kissing him back with just as much need and hurry.

"You don't get to fucking do that." He pulled back from your lips, still making sure to keep his face mere inches from yours.

"Every single day, I'd sit there and watch you talk to this new guy, I couldn't do shit about it— I wouldn't let myself do shit about it."

“I knew you deserved so much better than some lousy asshole like me, angel.” His hand held a firm grip on your hips, his other still had its place on the stone wall.

"It took everything in me not to punch that fucker in the face when I saw him look at you, but I knew you wouldn't want that." You melted beneath his gaze.

His kisses trailed down your jawline.

"During second year, when I went to the dance, I saw you there with Draco, I nearly killed him right after. I couldn't bear to see you with anyone other than myself.. so I wouldn't go, I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it so I never went to another ball again." He gently caressed your cheek with his thumb.

"Until this year." He mumbled softly in between the kisses he was leaving on your neck.

He brought his face back up to yours, his eyes stormy and clouded with something darker than just simple need.

"What'd he say to you? What did he call you?" Mattheo asked with a dark shimmer in his eyes, one you were hoping was just from the moon.

You swallowed harshly, you hadn't realized how dry your mouth truly was.

"He just said I looked nice—"

"Nice? You look fucking ravishing. I've never met a girl as beautiful as you, never once in my life seen a girl who could compare anywhere near you...That's why I call you angel you know...,because even if an angel walked by, my eyes would still be glued on you."

His gentle voice tickled your ears, and your cheeks warmed up beneath him.

"You are my angel."

He kissed you again, only this time it was more gentle. His lips held no rush, they were soft and comforting.

You were the one to pull back this time, smiling sweetly up at him. He pulled you from against the wall, leaving the two of you in the center of the balcony, under the sparkling stars.

"I can't believe we've been friends all these years, and neither of us made a move."

He spun you around under the moon light, the beautiful sky knocking the breath out of you.

"Hey matty..?”You whispered once he had began to hold you in his arms gently.

"Yes angel?" He matched your tone, the sweet nickname you gave him made his chest tighten up.

"I love you." You closed your eyes, shutting them slowly.

"I love you... I always thought I'd never be the type to say that so freely, guess I just needed to meet the right person." He swayed the two of you lightly, finding a rhythm in the midnight winds.

"Of course it's you...

It's always been you."

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #slytherin #mattheoxreader #x reader #harry potter #hogwarts #slytherin boys

218 notes · View notes

moonlitdesertdreams · 5 months

Text

Skip the small talk

Request: None A/N: Again, I just want to thank everyone for supporting my stories and liking/commenting/reblogging/etc. It means the world to have such great reception to these one-shots. So please, enjoy this lil' story about the reader being a badass :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, drug use, decapitation Summary: You really weren't looking for trouble. All you wanted was something to eat, but of course things go awry. This is the Wasteland, after all.

Word Count: 2.6k+

(Gif Credit to @acecroft)

Thunder booms across the Wasteland, combining with the sound of heavy rain on metal rooftops.

It continues in tandem with its partner Lighting, who illuminates the hazy green poison that hangs low in the air tonight. The storm has been raging for hours, and doesn’t seem to be on the verge of letting up anytime soon.

After hours of tossing and listening to the howl of the storm, you decide to give up on sleep for the moment. The inn room you’d acquired is small but cozy, lit only by a couple candles that burn bright orange on the side table. You untangle yourself from Cooper where he lies half-naked beside you, scarred skin on display while in the security of your arms. As per usual, he crankily grumbles curses at you for causing a disturbance, but there’s no malice behind the words. His eyes blink open and lock on to you, immediately more alert at the prospect of you venturing away.

“What’re y’doin’?” His question is thick with sleep, forced through the haze by this codependency you’ve developed on each other.

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, and reach a hand back to brush his arm gently. “Thunder’s keeping me up. I’m gonna go see if the saloon downstairs has anything in the way of food.”

Cooper opens his mouth to respond, but a cough cuts him off. You pluck his inhaler from the nightstand and press it into his waiting hand. The cough wasn’t unusual, but you’d been traveling for days on end in search of a bounty and knew Cooper was putting on a facade of toughness. Everyone needed rest, and The Ghoul just didn’t know when to admit it.

“Go back to sleep.” You murmur, “I’ll only be a minute.”

He relents, but points a finger in your direction. “Fine. But they got anythin’ good, you bring me some back too, huh?”

You snatch the hand out of the air and press a kiss to his palm. “Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep.”

And since the Wasteland’s most fearsome bounty hunter would rather live through ten more atomic bombs than not have the last word, he scoffs.

“Bossy fuckin’ woman.”

You giggle at Cooper’s tough love as you tug thick tights and a long gray jacket onto your body. Out of pure habit, you look around for a weapon. Yours are stashed on the other side of the bed, but Cooper’s shotgun is propped against the wall by the door. You opt to grab it, slinging the gun onto your shoulder and making sure the strap is secure before cracking open the door.

The old clock hanging in the hall reads one thirty in the morning, but the sounds from the saloon downstairs continue as normal. Perhaps a bit more toned down than the daytime, but voices still mingle and dance together up the stairs. You trail after them, patting your pockets to ensure there’s enough caps to pay for a hot meal. Cooper’s half-canister of Jet and the wrinkled bounty poster sure ain’t going to pay for anything.

Eyes flicker towards you as you step onto the main floor, but they return back to their own tables soon enough. Everyone’s clad in raincoats or hats, outfitted for the weather. The town was a central point for a few settlements which popped up around it, and a major trade destination. The frequency of armed caravan guards passing through proved to be a rather decent deterrent for the unpleasant types, and most people had been nice to the point of frightening.

At the bar, you pull out a rusty stool and settle onto it. All the other patrons but one are at tables closer to the door. The same man who’d rented the room to Cooper and yourself is down the bar chatting.

“No surprise there. They’ve got some questionable folks runnin’ cargo these days.” The bartender is saying. He drops his hands on the bar. “But they take what they can get.”

The other man at the bar is older, just like the bartender. Dressed in dirty clothes, hood up with heavy gloves next to him, you figure he might be a lead farmer. You give a brief nod his way before focusing back on the bartender as he slides over.

“What can I do for you, ma’am?” For someone out in the Wasteland, his face is kind. Weathered and probably suffering from radiation poisoning like the rest of you, but kind nonetheless.

“Got anything hot to eat back there?” You ask, but think better of it. “Or anything to eat?”

“You’re in luck. One of the trade caravans left us with an old brahmin yesterday. Fresh brahmin steak if it tickles your fancy?”

You toss the caps onto the bar. “Sign me up.”

He busies himself at the cooking station for a few minutes, and eventually delivers a steaming steak in front of you. He checks on the other bar-goer and floats back over to you after a few minutes.

“So, I have to ask.” He starts, “You came in here with that ghoul, yeah?”

You pause, mouth full and one hand instinctively freeing itself for a weapon if necessary. He must have caught onto your bristling, as he holds both hands up in a placating gesture.

“I’m sorry. It’s nothin’ bad, I was just curious. We don’t get a lot of ghouls around here, let alone people traveling with them.”

Hell, there was no need for him to tell you that. Cooper and yourself brought stares everywhere you went, discounting the cities you frequented that knew you both by reputation. You’d been called every name in the book in small communities like this, from chem-head, to ghoul-fucker and anything people could come up with.

“Yeah, we travel together. Easier to stay alive and make money when there’s two of us.” You saw off another piece of steak.

“Bounty hunters, then?”

You shrug. “Sometimes. We do whatever needs doing most of the time. If the price is right.”

If Cooper was next to you, he’d be spewing threats of dismemberment and cutting out tongues for all the questions, but you didn’t mind. It was nice meeting someone who wasn’t immediately training crosshairs on your body.

“Fair enough. I’m Clint, if you need anything.” The bartender wipes his hands with a rag and moves about his way, readjusting liquor bottles and carrying beers out to tables that are hollering for them.

You finish your steak and gulp down the water Clint had set in front of you at some point. It washes away the gamey taste of mutated beef. You wait for him to return, as you were sure that fresh brahmin steak qualified as ‘anything good’ in Cooper’s eyes.

“This seat taken?”

You barely glance over your shoulder at the question, but give a half-hearted shrug. There was a whole bar and whoever this idiot is wants to sit next to you?

“Nuh-uh.”

The stool scrapes against the uneven wood floor, and you look over at the man that’s sat himself beside you. He’s younger than you expected, but vaguely familiar as if you’ve passed by him before. Brown hair slicked back close to his skull and shaved on the sides, and a distinct pale discoloration on his chin. There’s a valiant attempt at beard growth but it’s patchy at best.

You stare for just a moment before returning to the drops of water left in your dirty cup.

“Now, I can see you’re not from around here.” His tone is boyish, almost conceited.

Narrowly resisting an eyeroll, you set your cup back down. “Aren’t you just a right scholar?”

“I know a few things.” He waves his hand at Clint as he returns, and a beer is set in front of him moments later. “I know that you rode into town tonight, looking for a bounty.”

Lightning illuminates all of the cracks in the building. Thunder rolls.

It takes a moment, but hits you as a smile is breaking out across the man’s face. You hadn’t passed by him before or traded. Your hand ghosts over the folded-up bounty poster in the pocket of your coat.

“Name’s Spade, by the way.”

Fuck. You’d never forget the name of a bounty. Especially the one set to inherit an entire Gunner outfit that had been threatening caravans for miles in every direction.

“Spade, huh? Named after a shovel?” You prod. “No wonder you ain’t good at making friends.”

Spade calmly sips on his beer. “Neither are you, I hear. Though that might be due to your choice in company.”

Turning your head all the way towards him, you entertain the banter. Trying to avoid the subject of having a partner. You didn’t doubt if the shooting started that Cooper would come running down the stairs, but surprise is always an advantage.

“Yeah, I’m starting to question it myself.”

“I heard you were funny.” Spade chuckles, and withdraws a bulky device from underneath his coat. It crackles and pops like a geiger counter. “But I know you didn’t come here alone.”

You listen to the device pop, but don’t recognize it.

“Say, how much Rad-Away do you go through? Traveling, eating, sleeping and whatever else with The Ghoul must really fuck with your health. His radiation signature is all over you.” Spade tucks the device away.

“Don’t worry, I wear lead-lined panties.” You pat your thighs and stand. “And I don’t have time for this.”

Just as you make it to your feet, you notice the rest of the patrons do the same. They all shrug off their raincoats and reveal standard Gunner clothing, and you pause. Betraying nothing, you simply stare. Counting eleven opponents including Spade. Too busy thinking about how you grabbed Cooper’s shotgun and no extra ammo because you’re apparently a fool. The one combat knife in your boot is a viable choice, but tough to handle so many. You note Clint’s swift exit out the back door of the establishment.

“All this firepower for me?”

Spade follows suit, and stands. He towers over you.

“Don’t play dumb. I know they want me dead, and I’m not keen on letting that happen.”

You nod. “Understandable.”

And it’s then one of his men gets twitchy, and you’re diving behind the bar at the cocking of a gun.

Spade hollers something at the men that sound suspiciously like “kill her”, but the thunder drowns him out. You press your back up against the bar for cover, and whip the shotgun into your grip. You feel at the knife in your boot, and brush past the Jet in your pocket.

“Fuck it.”

You draw out the inhalant and put it between your lips. Bracing for the adrenaline rush, you squeeze the Chems into your mouth. Not much of a frequent user, you resist the urge to cough and waste the effects.

In just a few seconds, the world around you feels as if it’s moving in slow motion. You leap up from behind the bar, aiming and popping off the two rounds you have into the groupies that Spade brought along. One slug crashes through two of them while the other blows another’s head to pieces.

Three down, eight to go.

You sling the gun back over your shoulder and draw the knife. In your peripheral, you notice Spade reaching for his waistband. On pure instinct, you whip the knife in his direction. It finds his mark in his right eye, and he goes to the ground wailing. Just as the Jet begins to wear thin, you hop over the bar towards the crowd.

“Fuck her up!”

You bend down near Spade’s writing frame, and rip the knife out of his eye socket with a wet squelch. Leaving him for last, you twirl the knife around and beckon at his cronies.

“Well?”

You lunge towards the closest, thrusting the knife at his throat. He catches your wrist and twists it away, but you’re quick to jam your elbow upwards into his chin. It stuns him just enough that you can stab the knife into his guts and rip sideways. Entrails spill, and you reach through them to grab the pipe pistol at his hip.

The next few go down via bullet, and you’re eventually left with only Spade alive. He’s clawed his way to his feet as you finished off his gang, and now has an automatic pistol pointed at your head. It wavers dangerously, as he’s half-blind and still spurting blood from the wounded eye socket.

You drop the pistol that’s been occupying your right hand and hold up the knife.

“Wanna get reacquainted?”

Spade bares his teeth at you. “And here we brought all the guns for The Ghoul.”

A shrug. “I’m sort of offended that I was underestimated.”

“I’ll make a note of it.”

Spade pulls the trigger as soon as you duck. His intentions were given away by the fractional squint of his good eye, struggling to aim properly. You charge towards him beneath the rounds, colliding with his knees. The bullets fly upwards, blasting holes in a narrow column up the wall. It sends splinters flying near the staircase.

“Motherfucker!”

About fucking time Cooper decided to show up.

You straddle Spade’s body and knock the pistol away. One boot keeps his wrist pinned down, and you bring the knife to his neck.

“Next time,” You growl, tracing the blade along his Adam’s Apple, “Skip the small talk.”

Blood sprays as you apply pressure, puncturing through his carotid. You drag the knife to the side, leaning away to avoid the spray as best as possible. Until he stops twitching, you keep him pinned to the ground.

“Well goddamn baby, next time invite me to the party.” The Ghoul, as Spade had referred to him, swaggers over to you. His honey-soaked eyes survey the carnage. “I thought you was gettin’ something to eat, not takin’ out our bounty so soon.”

You wipe your bloody hands on Spade’s coat and huff indignantly. “And I thought your old ass would move faster when you heard gunshots.”

Cooper holds out a gloved hand to help you up. “Thunder blocked out the sound.”

“Excuses, excuses.” You grumble, allowing him to pull you up.

The world spins, thanks to the adrenaline fading and Jet withdrawals. You stagger into Cooper, and he grips your arm.

“You ain’t shot, are ya? Left the stimpaks upstairs.”

You shake your head and let him steer you onto a barstool. “Nah. Jet.”

Cooper whoops. “My girl! Well shouldn’t we just be celebratin’ this momentous occasion.”

“Fuck you. I’m not doing anything but going back to bed.” You press your forehead into his chest. “Fuckin’ Chems.”

The Ghoul chuckles and uses two fingers to hold and lift your chin. He kisses your lips, already dry from licking at them. You hold the lapels of his coat to keep upright and only pull away when another pang of dizziness wracks you.

He steps away for a moment, and gets to work removing Spade’s head from his body to return for the money.

“Damn.” You rub your temples. “How the hell do you use that shit all the time?”

“Years of practice.” Cooper hums, and finds a burlap sack behind the bar to package the head. “Sure worked good for you, huh?”

You hop from the stool, using the bar as a crutch to stay upright. “Uh huh, right up until it didn’t. Now I wanna go to bed. Desperately.”

“Fine, fine.” Cooper relents, bloody sack in hand. He follows you to the stairs, free hand ghosting over your hip.

The Ghoul hovers behind as if you’re going to start cartwheeling back down, and herds you back into the rented room. You strip and crawl back in bed, hiding away from the cool air beneath the blanket. Cooper takes his time, but eventually blesses you with his body heat. You cozy up, letting it burn away the symptoms of Jet withdrawals.

“Did you ever get somethin’ to eat?”

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

346 notes · View notes

ganondoodle · 17 days

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since i have seen this argument pop up again and again and now its used to defend the minecraft movie

i really hate the argument that something, be it a movie or a game, can be as shitty as it wants when its primarily aimed at kids (or people THINK it is aimed mostly at kids) bc its 'just for kids'

like children are lesser an stupid? like they arent incredibly impressionable and deserve good movies? im not saying they should only watch critical acclaimed drama movies, but you can make a movie 'for kids' AND make it good, its been done before, sure there will always be shit movies, and thats fine, but dismissing any kind of criticism towards them bc "its just for kids" feels so unecessarily mean spirited towards children, like they are little people in wildly different stages of development!! they can think too!!

'kids' itself is such a wide range that i feel its not very useful as a category anyway, a 5 year old isnt the same as an 11 year old, both of them should get good things, and both can watch or play things they may not completely understand yet! i grew up with shrek, and while a big parody and haha fart humor movie, they (1+2) have an incredibly strong core, i didnt udnerstand them fully when i was little, so what? i still enjoyed them, i felt more connected to them than any disney movie (bc hey .. the monster is the main guy and no they dont all turn into conventionally pretty humans as the ultimate reward- i felt othered throughout my life too) and i still do, theres jokes and themes and meaning i understood fully only when i was rewatching them as an adult, i still enjoy them even at 27

and like, shouldnt it ESPECIALLY matter what children watch? (not in the puritan brain worm way) bc they are ... people in development?? do you think if they just sit down and watch shitty movies and play games that dont challenge them at all, be it thinking critically or emotionally, all day it wont have an affect on them??

(im sorry to bring up totk again, but that 'its for kids' argument has been used to defend it so much too, and its so incredibly annoying to me, ah yes, its puzzles are all skippable or easy as shit bc its main target are kids and children are stupid and shouldnt be challenged ever, the story is a simple fairytale type deal maybe to you, but contains alot of harmful stereotypes that have led to real world harm and its repeated unquestionably while offering nothing intersting to think or engage with, theres a reason alot of childrens media contains alot of stereotypes to propaganda even but its just for kids of course its not propaganda bc kids are stupid and cant understand that lol BECAUSE they are so impressionable, if a series 'for kids' only lets the girls be in frilly pink dresses and do 'girly' stuff do you not think that wil affect how they think about themselves??

if they keep seeing the light skinned blonde heroe stab the unquestioned evil arab stereotype bc he wants to take over your holy land bc hes just 'evil' and is never ever humanized in any way and only presented as a monster, while the good little maiden princess does everything she can to support her hero in shiny armor with big sad doe eyes and pretty little white dress- do you not think it will affect them? if it were an isolated incidence perhaps not much, but its a stereotype perpetuated to such a degree that you think its just 'how fairytales go'? yeah, you have been influenced by these portrayals, they are working as intented- and if they are used as such in media without the writer intending to influence you that way? thats even worse bc it means it has been so normalized to think that way people dont even realize it- while alot of real people in the world are ganondorf, they are demonized and dehumanized, others think of them as inherently evil.. but its just a "simple fairytale"

yes i know children can also question things on their own, but you shouldnt assume that comes naturally and then also in just the correct way, i questioned why i was just doing whatever the talking boat told me to do when i first played windwaker as a kid, but more bc i liked how ganondorf looked and hated being told things to do without a good reason being given (autism much?), 'evil' didnt do it for me, but that doesnt mean i knew he was an evil arab stereotype, i didnt like tetra turning white as zelda, bc i thought she looked cooler before and i didnt like 'girly' things myself, not bc i knew it was whitewashing

-not saying media should be free of anything 'problematic', the problem is how its presented and never questioned or engaged with critically and then that stupid argument being used to dismiss it like children are both unable to think and not influencable somehow-)

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #minecraft movie #i know i went on a sorta rant there again #i just saw epic tm dunk posts about people criticising the minecraft movie #and you know i have opinions #man i can never shut up #.. anyway im gonna go and repot my plants

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artificial-transmutations · 11 months

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I'm the ugliest nerd in the world and I have nobody. I wish I was a man with dark brown eyes, nice muscles and everything that makes a himbo... and every nerd I kiss becomes a man like only an Arabian fairy tale could tell. He would only want me. Only I could keep his muscular body up with kisses and fucks.

Can you grant me this one Wish?

An Arabian fairy tale

Once upon a time, there was a nerd called Gregor. He lived his life in a big city and every day, he was miserable. Not only was he gay and lonely, no, the little nerd was also ugly. He wasn't just ugly, no, he was the ugliest nerd there was in the whole country.

Every day he wished he could find a lover and live happily ever after, but every day, he was reminded of his status as a lonely nerd. He tried online-dating, but due to his exterior, nobody seemed to want him.

Gregor was a shy, awkward guy who didn't get many chances to talk to strangers. In his free time, he enjoyed writing fantasy stories, a hobby that didn't bring him too many friends, either. It was frustrating, too. In his stories, the hero always managed to find a true love. He wasn't alone, no, he had someone at his side.

In his real life, however, Gregor didn't have such luck. The best thing that happened to him in a while was meeting another nerd online. There wasn't going to be anything romantic between them. As fate would have it, the other nerd, called Evan was also gay and lived not too far away, but Evan had made it pretty clear early on that Gregor just wasn't his type. Instead, he rooted for manly men, with a different ethnic background. Evan and Gregor spent a long lonely night in voice chat together, discussing their preferences. Evan apparently longed for the firm touch of a strong man with Arabic background.

Meanwhile, Gregor didn't dare say what he wished for. What was the use, anyway? There was no way it was going to happen. No one wanted to be with a weak, ugly nerd like him. To be honest, he didn't actually really know himself. In his thoughts, a partner was something so abstract, so far away that he hadn't even thought about how such a person would look like.

Evan's fantasy wasn't bad, though. After their talk, Gregor lay awake in his bed and imagined strong, middle-eastern men, along with Evan. Perhaps he had developed a slight crush on the other nerd. Finally, he drifted off to sleep, wishing that he and Evan could be together.

When Gregor awoke the next morning, he felt strangely energetic and in a pretty good mood. Thinking nothing of it, he quickly got dressed and thought about what to do today. He didn't have any work to do and would usually have spent the day indoors, writing one of his stories. However, after the refreshing talk yesterday, that didn't feel all too appealing. Instead, he had an idea: He knew where Evan lived and worked. Perhaps he should walk over to that other part of the city, and they could have a coffee. Not as a date, of course - but more as a continuation of last night's talk.

Gregor didn't have time to waste and left the house. As he stepped into the sun, the first thing he noticed was how bright the world suddenly appeared. He didn't think much of it, but a few moments later, the second strange thing happened: People were looking at him!

Now, Gregor was of course used to people looking after him - he was really ugly, after all! But today, it was different. The gazes that lingered on him didn't seem to be hostile or disgusted. They seemed curious.

Perhaps his shirt had a hole in it, Gregor thought. He checked himself, but no, the shirt was fine.

As he walked, the attention he drew increased steadily. Was there something on his face perhaps? Or his arms?

As he checked his arms, Gregor was amazed by what he saw: His milky-white skin that usually had a sickly tone to it was entirely different today: instead of the pale and blotchy skin, he now had a healthy and firm complexion. The muscles in his arms, which he usually thought of as scrawny and flabby were now clearly visible.

He checked the other arm, and it was the same. What was going on? Also, his vision was getting blurry. When he took off his glasses to clean them, however, his vision cleared up instantly. It was as if his short-sightedness was just gone!

As Gregor kept walking, the changes became more apparent: His legs, which had always been thin and small, were now visibly muscular. His stomach, which had always been a little fat, was now a firm six-pack. His clothes, which had been a bit baggy before, were getting tighter and tighter as both his height and his shoulder width increased more and more.

His hair, which had always been a dark brown, was getting even darker, and a strong stubble covered his chin. His skin, which had been the same milky white tone, was getting a darker, more exotic tan.

Gregor had no idea what was going on, and he was a little scared. But the more his body changed, the better he felt about it. He wasn't an ugly nerd anymore. He was not yet sure what he was going to become, but it was surely better than what he had been.

Meanwhile, his clothes were getting increasingly tight, and he felt like taking them off. That was not something he would ever do in public, but his urges were stronger than his shyness. With a quick movement, he took off his shirt and ripped his pants open. To his surprise, below the tight jeans, a pair of silk shorts in a shiny royal blue had formed instead of his slip, which covered his privates. However, even though he wasn't naked, the ample bulge that stretched the silky fabric left little to imagination: a large and thick manhood had formed between his legs, which left a clearly visible dick print, along with the thinly veiled big orbs of balls he now had.

By now, Gregor's appearance was attracting a lot of attention, as his body kept growing more and more, becoming larger and more impressive by the second. He wasn't even "lean" or "fit" anymore. The way his body expanded, he definitely qualified as "muscular" by now, perhaps even "bulky". His shoulders were wide and strong, and his back had filled out so much that his neck had almost disappeared entirely. His biceps and triceps were both at least the size of his head and were covered in a fine, dark fuzz. The rest of his body had also become much hairier: His chest was covered in a generous carpet of dark hairs and a thick bush of pubes was pushing out against the silky shorts.

People had stopped and stared, and even a few had started to snap pictures or take videos with their phones. Gregor was enjoying the attention. His facial structure reformed into something much more manly. His new Arabic heritage became clearly visible on his face. His nose, his eyes, and his jawline changed and became broader, more prominent. His eyes became deep and dark, and his bushy eyebrows made him appear quite serious and manly.

A superior grin appeared on his face that wouldn't go away anymore. Gregor knew he had become a walking wet dream of Arabic hunkness - especially for Evan. He couldn't wait to surprise him like that.

Even though his identity hadn't changed much, Gregor didn't feel like calling himself Gregor anymore. Ghalib. That was a far more fitting name for his impressive Arabic stature. It meant 'victor' or 'conqueror' - and Ghalib felt exactly like that.

Ghalib wasn't even sweating when he arrived at Evans place a short jog later. He rang the bell, and when the little nerd in front of him opened, he didn't waste any time: Ghalib pulled Evan into a tight and sensual kiss, invading the other man's mouth with determined force. Evan moaned in his mouth and his legs gave in.

Ghalib held the small nerd up and carried him inside the flat, kicking the door shut behind him. The rest of their clothes soon littered the floor as the two men kissed passionately. However, as they were making out, Evan, too, began to change. It was almost like watching his own changes in fast forward: The hair on his head receded into a shorter style and was replaced by a thick fuzz that grew on his chest and the rest of his body. Evan's face morphed into a masculine and rugged appearance. His skinny, pale arms and legs grew more and more muscles, until they looked like they were sculpted out of marble. His skin darkened and an Arabic ethnicity appeared by it.

Finally, the smaller man's cock expanded and swelled up. Within a few seconds, it reached almost the size of Ghalib's.

As they continued kissing, the two men, now equally hung and ripped, felt up each other's bodies. Ghalib had no idea why this was happening, or what had brought on these changes, but he didn't care. All he knew - or was pretty sure about - was that it didn't have to stop with Evan.

As the other hunk went down on him, Ghalib made a decision. Evan and he would share their gift, turning more and more nerds into a true harem of sexy Arabs!

#male transformation #racial transformation #muscle transformation #hairy

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riding-the-sunset-bird · 3 months

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I'm still riding a high from Baxter Week last month so I just wanted to gush about how much I adore Baxter and his DLC! No specific rhyme or reason, but it is a nice break from my usual dives into the code!

Also, I won't be saying anything negative about Cove nor Derek; I don't need nor want to do that. I'll be comparing them to Baxter, but only for contrast/showing the skillfully written differences between them (example: Cove does [x] and Baxter does [y] to account for multiple player preferences).

(might go without saying, but there will be spoilers for basically his entire DLC)

The Background

I actually had no interest in Baxter when my MC first met him in the game. He was fine, I was neutral, but what it came down to was that I was one of Those People who just wanted time with Cove and excluded others (if it's not obvious, I always got a cold Cove unless I used the Cove Creator).

That all changed, funnily enough, during the Cove Wedding DLC. On a whim, I agreed to let Baxter give my MC dance lessons and prodded him on his disappearance after Step 3. Getting a hint of Baxter's underlying problems piqued my interest and I'd had the Baxter DLC downloaded before I even hit the reception!

After the Cove Wedding DLC was over, I rolled back to a save right before Soiree and got to romancing.

Zero regrets.

The Setup

As a character, Baxter is so beautifully designed as both a contrast to Cove and someone to fill out the gaps that Cove and Derek leave. He also completes the "comfort level" of love interests that I had in my head, where the MC can be whatever they want but each guy seems to have a particular comfort level themselves (Cove being Nervous, Derek being more Relaxed, and Baxter being Direct).

When if comes to their actual engagement through the family, Baxter has only brief mentions of his parents, Cove's story is partly connected to his parents whilst still giving focus to one-on-one time, and Derek's family is front-and-center to his conflict. It's all about how much time a player wants to invest in the character versus the time they want to spend with others.

Likewise, Baxter's route features a relationship that ends and gets back together again, Cove's route is a relationship where he and the MC always live close to each other, and Derek's route is a long-distance relationship past Step 2 and before Step 4.

Baxter's undeniably a controversial character, I imagine due to possibly being based on the "playboy" type, which tends to be someone who flirts with anyone they find attractive whether the recipient likes it or not, won't take "no" for an answer, and lies to their dates that they're serious about them when they actually don't care for them at all.

The game cleverly subverts this right out of the gate when Baxter first meets Cove and the MC. Baxter does find the two attractive and initially flirts with the both of them (a great start to confirming that he's pan), but backs off and apologizes the moment he notices that Cove is uncomfortable. He adds as well that he wouldn't mind having a summer fling, but that it's not his core reason for wanting to get to know and spend time with them.

So already, the player is made aware that he's forward but considerate, takes Cove's discomfort more seriously than even the usual residents of Sunset Bird (who enjoy teasing him into embarrassment), and has non-serious flings with a priority on simply having fun connections over the course of his time with them.

He, like Cove, will only propose a relationship with the MC in Step 3 if the MC expresses interest first (the only difference being that the MC expresses the interest in Cove to "the game" while talking to Lee, whereas the MC expresses interest in Baxter by talking to Baxter directly).

This gives the MC a powerful opportunity, as Baxter is a character that the player has the most options in interacting with. He begins as a total stranger, similar to Cove, and the player can decide whether he stays that way or becomes more than that. Even down to the optional moments he appears in, the MC only has to interact with him in Hang and Late Shift, both of which lets them avoid further interaction by going home early and rejecting his invitation to his house/telling him not to come to their workplace respectively. The only mandatory instances of seeing him are the Step 3 intro, a brief goodbye in the ending, Hang, and the very beginning of Late Shift.

Whether it be strangers, friends, friends that fell in love after they met again, a friendship or fling that started well and ended horribly, a fling that turned into genuine feelings in the end, or two people that love each other all the way through, Baxter's route can do it all. In Step 4 as well, the MC can choose to be calm, professional, upset, or angry about seeing Baxter again, which all lead to different conversations/narration with him, and the end of Step 3 makes him the only love interest where there can be a technical "break up."

This is also a rare occasion where the MC, due to Cove not being a fan of Baxter, can form a relationship outside of their normal range. Baxter doesn't live in Sunset Bird and isn't connected to anyone the MC knows - neither Cove's nor the MC's friends and family - at the time of meeting him, fitting the narrative of the MC starting to look at things beyond their little neighborhood and even the people they're close with. It can be further emphasized in Soiree where the MC starts to gain a bit of independence and can end up dancing with a younger Baxter, foreshadowing that little peek into the wider world from a mysterious stranger who's there and then gone.

Something else that's fascinating is that Baxter, due to him leaving at the end of Step 3 and meeting the MC again during Step 4, is the only love interest where players see virtually all of the MC's interactions with him. It does leave out the gaps that Cove and Derek have that can be neatly filled with headcanons, but that ultimately depends on what the player prefers. Point being is that the MC's experiences are the player's experiences when it comes to Baxter: whatever time they spend with him, the player also spends with him.

So already, the setup for Baxter and his route are really strong for me, but the content of his DLC isn't limited to just him.

The Content

Baxter's DLC introduces a total of two new characters and extra content for Terry and Miranda, both of which were absolutely welcomed by me. I was hyper-focused on Cove in the base game, but the Baxter DLC made me appreciate the other characters more.

Even the moms, who already got plenty of screen time, are shown to be rather nosy and gossip-y in Sightseeing (something not showcased overly until then), which ends up being the perfect encouragement towards the MC learning more about Baxter. Then, if the MC meets the requirements and agrees to Baxter's fling, Noelani in particular is stunned into silence. If the MC was upset with Baxter over what happened, then both moms will show a rare coldness to him as well.

These are all things one would miss out on with other interests, due to how the whirlwind relationship and drama in Baxter's route are designed.

Then there's Terry, who becomes Baxter's friend more directly in the DLC whether Baxter is convinced of that or not, and is given more to do in every best way. Baxter's version of Hang allows for more focus on Terry's relationship with Miranda, partly with more hints towards his crush on her but also seeing Terry interact with someone who's "like him." Cove and Miranda are described as "shy" and the MC can be equally as much, allowing for new facets of Terry's character to come through by Baxter's being there.

Even after Baxter goes no contact and Step 4 makes the shift to focus on his relationship with the MC, Terry's friendship with him isn't forgotten: Baxter laments that Terry isn't calling him by his affectionate nickname for him anymore.

Terry getting attention from being Baxter's friend doesn't exclude Miranda from getting any either; far from it. If anything, she gets more than Terry, both with an expansion on her family in the form of her brother (and eventual brother-in-law) plus a moment dedicated to giving her a birthday party. As if that weren't enough, she gets a mini-plot in Step 4 concerning her relationship with Terry and her role in his life.

Seeing more of Terry and Miranda was in every way a case of "thing I didn't know I needed until I had it." Maybe it was the Cove tunnel vision that persisted for so long, but when I first got to re-experience Terry and Miranda in Baxter's version of Hang, it was great and I was so happy any time they were on-screen.

They aren't given extra time just for the sake of it either; they're expertly woven into the overarching story of Step 3 and the themes of Step 4.

Step 3 centers on adulthood with the MC and their friends growing up and having to face the fear of growing apart. The step already does a good job at keeping that a focus, but Planning expands on it in a way that feels almost criminal not to have in the base game. The already high stakes feel even higher when put up against the last birthday party they'll be able to plan before everyone goes off on their own.

Then, Step 4 balances Terry putting forth so much effort for Miranda with her worrying that she's not doing enough for him. She doesn't need to worry, obviously (Terry loves her for every reason), but with Step 4 focusing so much on relationships, self-reflection, and trying to make up for past mistakes (both real and perceived), it's just a cherry on top of an already fantastic story.

Meanwhile, Jude and Scott, despite only appearing for Step 4, are easily some of my favorite characters in the game. They're adorable, they can be sweet with not just Miranda but the MC too (the player has the option for the MC to see them like honorary family/big brothers), and the way the groom's cake ultimately ties into helping bring Baxter and the MC closer again while serving as a callback to Planning is perfection. One may think little of Miranda's initial mention of them (probably assuming that it's just a little bit of character introduction to show that she has family who has things going on), but it all comes together in the end.

The DLC additionally has a potential bonus (depending on player preference) in that it is benefited by most other DLCs. The other DLCs are not required to enjoy it, but they add that little bit of extra flavor.

The Step 2 DLC adds Birthday and Soiree. Birthday is Miranda's birthday party when she's fourteen and before she officially becomes the MC's friend, meaning you get the development of seeing the difference in the MC's and Cove's investment in her party then versus now, as well as how her taste in parties has grown. Soiree allows the MC to possibly meet Baxter earlier than Step 3 and add to the "fate"/"destiny" angle if the player so desires.

The Step 3 DLC obviously allows for more Baxter in general with Boating and Late Shift, the former showing a much needed reaction from Lee if the MC is dating him at the time. It's also a good "starter DLC" for people who aren't sure about Baxter, allowing them to choose to interact with him if they want to get to know him more (as I mentioned before).

Derek's DLC lets the player meet Baxter in a different way during Soiree, something that can be brought back up with Derek in Step 3 and then again in Step 4 (to which he'll joke about the MC's meetings with Baxter in five year increments).

Even Cove's Wedding DLC can have advantage, bringing a soft conclusion to Baxter's story for those who don't want to play Baxter's Step 4 but still care for him, and/or something more dramatic following how he ends off Step 3 with the MC.

So one doesn't just get Baxter content; there's quality content from others and it can be further added to with other DLCs.

Not that the Baxter content isn't worth it all by itself either because I adore this man.

The Man

I'm a simple woman. Give me an intelligent man with simultaneously zero braincells and I am in.

I don't even like "playboy" type characters normally, but Baxter is actually charming and tries to make things clear to the MC from the beginning. He falters during the Step 3 ending but not because he was trying to keep it a secret; he genuinely didn't expect the MC to try to press him and deemed himself unworthy of their company.

I'd seen more than enough of rich boy plots where the rich boy is a perfect do-no-wrong type and it's everyone else's problem that they don't like him. Baxter, however, is a flawed character who not everyone is going to like (which is absolutely 100% fine and valid) and him being rich is not just something that influenced his self-esteem but also what he ultimately gives up despite having relied on that financial safety net for his whole life, showing a deeper sense of awareness as he got older.

I don't normally like fate/destiny stories either, as they often feel as though they're taking agency from one or both characters involved (in terms of forcing them to love/be in a relationship with each other), but Baxter's route isn't like that. It's the player's choice to have that dance in Soiree (which they can just as easily turn down), their choice to form a closer relationship with Baxter outside of the disinterested Cove, and their choice to choose Baxter's Step 4 when they have already one guaranteed "safe" option in Cove's Step 4 and a potential other "safe" choice in Derek's Step 4 if they have Derek's DLC.

The player is the fate, which coincidentally went into my first playthrough, as my MC was initially designed for Cove yet ended up being perfect for Baxter.

Baxter is so absolutely delightful and absolutely stupid at the same time. From his openness to be questioned by the MC followed by this assumption that he's like a stranger to them (meanwhile the MC and Cove being best friends/crushes right out of the gate if the player so chooses), to him talking about the play he and the MC go to while not seeing the obvious parallel to his own issues, to openly admitting that he doesn't want to leave the MC while making the decision himself to go no contact.

He unconvincingly uses the cupcakes as an excuse to not get more intimate with MC, he wants so badly to spend time with the MC that he's willing to risk letting them see him in his useless morning state (and is surprised when it goes wrong, at least in his mind), and tries to convince himself to not stay attached to the MC during Step 4 despite being unable to help constantly reminiscing on their time together.

At his core, he's a funny, charismatic sweetheart who wants to be loved, to be touched, to have someone in his life (even just a friend) that he can make happy, but his upbringing and deep-seeded insecurities make him cynical to the idea of being in a genuine relationship with someone. This causes him to constantly sabotage himself before he can make any progress. It's why he can prefer flings: he can use his money to make a passionate, pleasant time with his temporary partner, but not so long that he feels they'll find something disappointing in him.

Low-risk, high-reward.

This, of course, ultimately backfires by the end of Step 3, and it's perfectly structured to set him up for Step 4. The brilliant foreshadowing of him being skilled with planning events in a pinch, to Jude and Scott's long-distance relationship and Baxter claiming that they won't stay together, to Baxter insisting that it's unlikely for he and the MC to meet again (made funnier if they'd already met again before, if the MC saw him in Soiree), then Step 4 hitting where he's not only a wedding planner planning Jude and Scott's wedding, but accidentally/unconsciously putting himself into situations where he's "stuck" with the MC.

That starting instant where Baxter reacts to the MC in the restaurant, initially shocked and then having to bring himself back into a professional persona, apologizing for his immature self but sticking to only focusing on the wedding?

Not just a wonderfully-written hint to the player as to what they're in for, but very much a "I'm not stuck in here with you, you're stuck in here with me," situation. It's all about making Baxter as uncomfortable as possible so he can reflect, flying in the face of his thought that he could control everything and project what he thought about himself onto others. He can give advice to other people, but refuses to give the same to himself because he held himself to an impossible standard.

Once he finally figures that out, he's feels extremely guilty and apologetic towards the MC and everyone else. Him unloading all of his emotional baggage and work to do better is so satisfying after seeing it affect him in key moments like Drinks, Planning, the Step 3 ending, and finally Step 4. Underneath the facade he (weakly) attempts to put up for himself is a teasing gentleman who hates mornings, wants to see everyone around him be happy, and feels blessed just to simply have a relationship with the MC (real or temporary).

This isn't even talking about Baxter's perspective from a meta standpoint, adding layers on top of what's already there in the canon and adding even further when considering Baxter's appearance in the sidequel Our Life: Now & Forever.

The MC can learn in Sightseeing that Baxter had a crush on a kid who was doing ballet lessons while he did ballroom. Those who know anything about Now & Forever know that this is kid is Qiu, who's one of the two potential love interests there. Naturally, Baxter wouldn't have had a chance with them, as the only person Qiu can possibly fall for is the Now & Forever MC.

Baxter confesses in Step 4 that he's naturally drawn to the people who are "wanted by everyone else," which translates to Qiu (who is widely popular during Now & Forever's Step 1) and the MC (who is liked by most characters in the game and automatically crushed on by at least Derek). In the Cove Wedding DLC specifically, he adds that he is simply someone whereas Cove is the one.

Because here's the thing: in the eyes of the base game, he's not wrong. Cove is the game's focus, taking an active role in every step and being the first that the MC meets out of the potential love interests. He's the only love interest in the base game and his Step 4 is not just free, but the default.

Meanwhile, Baxter is just someone. He's a person who shows up in Sunset Bird for a single step - only showing up thrice - and then is entirely gone without his own Step 4. His DLC costs more than any of Cove's Step DLCs and the player already knows Cove, already has spent two steps with him, thus has far less incentive to get Baxter's DLC over Cove's own Step DLCs.

Then, despite Baxter appearing once in Cove's Step 2 DLC and twice in Cove's Step 3 DLC, most players won't experience the former (either due to focusing on Cove or not wanting to dance) and Baxter can be largely excluded in the latter if he happened to leave a bad first impression on the player.

And let's take it a step further. While Derek, like Baxter, doesn't have a Wedding DLC like Cove does, Derek can get into a marriage pact with the MC as early as Step 2, he can be dating the MC throughout nearly all of his Step 4, and the MC can agree to them moving in together before the ending.

Baxter has none of that. His DLC's story is steeped in drama and the earliest the MC can properly get together with him is after the wedding. There's no chance at a proposal (such as what can happen with Cove's Step 4, where they MC can date and then propose within an equally short timespan), no opportunity to move in with him, nothing.

He takes time, work, and actual money to get into a relationship with, whether platonic or romantic. It's a level of investment that not everyone would be willing to put in for someone, especially when only one Step 4 can be chosen out of the whole bunch.

Baxter's insecurities come from a very real place. His parents treated him like a child, all while expecting him to behave like someone their age, and they deliberately picked a town for him to go to that was near the ocean he feared (where it was unlikely for there to be people his age around) to keep him in check. In his mind, he's "broken" and incapable of being with anyone long-term.

Furthering that, there's a joke he makes about "being too late" if the MC and Cove are in a relationship by the time he appears, back when he wouldn't have considered himself a worthy partner anyway (also a bit of out-of-universe humor over how the MC couldn't get together with him whether they wanted to or not, due to being unable to break up with Cove). Despite that, he's pleased as punch to see the MC dating/married to Cove and hopes the best for them regardless of his potential attraction.

Baxter puts forth so much effort to try and make the MC's last summer in Sunset Bird memorable with the thought that he won't be seeing them ever again. The potential relationship he can have with them is the most stable he's ever had and it scares him when they make him feel wanted and important. All the while, he's convinced that the MC's friends and family are "better" than him and he'll only bore the MC if he remains in contact with them.

With his DLC, the MC - the player - get to prove him wrong: an MC who is liked by everyone and loved by up to three different interests, but end up choosing him in the end. Cove and Derek are "easy" and the MC has undoubtedly spent more time with them in comparison to Baxter - who would feel that either guy could make the MC happier than he could - but they have the chance to show that he is the one that makes them happy.

Baxter is so absolutely amazed to be in a relationship with the MC that he willingly takes in all the shocked reactions and potential backlash from everyone else due to his five years of going no contact. He's regretful when he finds himself back in old habits and eager not just to message the MC multiple times per day after they return home, but also to take time off to go visit them after his Step 4 is over.

I think that makes for an incredibly special experience: to have someone who comes last out of the three possibilities, doubts his true potential, and eventually realizes how misguided he is. It's not about who got the most time with the MC, or who got "dibs" on meeting them first, or what can be accomplished the quickest in their time with them.

It's about the MC forming a bond with someone, picking him despite the difficulties/limitations because they love him that much, the work he's willing to put into it in return, and finally the happiness that comes out of it.

For those reasons and even more, the Baxter DLC is by far my favorite.

#our life #our life: beginnings & always #olba #baxter ward

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bingoboingobongo · 2 years

Text

the reason (ii)

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley (Call of Duty) x Reader

Type: Fluff, smut (minors dni)

Summary: You’re the reason why Ghost wakes up in the morning, and you’re why he lets himself dream at night. (a part 2 to the right thing to do)

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: use of female body descriptions, explicit language, masturbation, needles/stitches, forced proximity, pining

A/N: hiii, so yes, this is a part two to ‘the right thing to do’ (yayyy). i’m not gonna lie, this chapter was going to be longer, but i decided to cut it so that 1. you guys can get more ghost content faster and 2. you don’t have to read 20k words. as always, likes/reblogs and comments are always appreciated, hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Part 3

In Ghost’s life, moments of domesticity were rare. Between his turbulent childhood, his initial years during and after the military, and the crippling paranoia being in special forces came with, Ghost could count all the times he had felt that comforting sense of peacefulness; of safety; of not worrying about who was waiting to kill him or who was going to hurt the people he loved; that feeling; that soft, warm, light feeling; he could count all the times he felt it on one hand.

The first time had been when he was a kid — maybe six, maybe seven. Or maybe he was younger, he didn’t know. Everything from back then was blurry. He remembered feeling safe because his brother and his father were gone, and it was just him and his mom. He didn’t know why they were gone, just that they wouldn’t be back until the end of the week. He remembered sitting in front of the fireplace with his mom, eating takeout and listening carefully as she read him a story: Treasure Island. When the book was finished, he remembered dragging his mom to the backyard and begging her to play Long John Silver while he, Jim Hawkins of course, challenged her to a pirate duel.

The second time had been at his nephew’s first birthday. It had been a small party, his brother and his wife, his mother, and him. He had been on leave for a while at that point, tending to family issues but by then, everything was fine. His sister-in-law had tucked his nephew into bed, and the rest of them were sitting outside around a fire drinking cheap beer and reminiscing over the past. He could still remember that warm feeling in his chest, a combination of alcohol and happiness.

And the last time he could remember, the third and final time, was now. It was here, with you by his side and the snow falling around him. It was the warmth of your body against his; the way you fit against him perfectly, like he was made only for you; it was the way you smelled, the way the fragrance of his cheap soap, the one you had made fun of just hours before, mingled and danced with that familiar, smokey smell of guns and bullets; the way you made him feel, light and airy and safe, as if you and him were alone together in a tiny pocket of space where nobody could reach you.

You made him feel safe. You made him feel sleepy. It was odd, because Ghost had never been a stranger to staying awake before. As a child, he spent his fair share of nights hiding under blankets with a book and a flashlight, staying up the entire night reading so he wouldn’t have to deal with the nightmares that plagued his sleep. And if anything, the military had only worsened his sleeping habits. He had gone days — one time a week — without sleep while on the battlefield. He knew how to shake off the tight grip of exhaustion, how to spit in its face and tell it to fuck off so he could keep doing his job. He had done it time and time again in the past, but for some reason in this moment, his ability to do so was escaping him.

It was something about you — it was everything about you — that made it hard for him to stay up. The way he unconsciously synced up his breaths with your steady, even ones; the way the warmth of your body pressed against him rolled off of you in waves, encouraging him to just give in; the way you somehow made him feel so relaxed and peaceful and content, as if you were a long-term mission he had finally accomplished; everything about you made his eyelids droop and his mind hazy.

And it killed him to have to wake you up, to have to be the one to disturb your rest when you looked so happy and satisfied sleeping. But what choice did he have? He couldn’t risk falling asleep when he was supposed to be protecting you. He would be letting you down, and he knew that disappointing you — or worse, getting you killed — would hurt far more than waking you up. So with a heavy heart and a stiff shoulder, he carefully nudged you until you woke up.

You opened your eyes slowly, peeling yourself off of him as you looked around, trying to remember where you were. He watched you bring a hand to your mouth as you let out a yawn, your eyes squinting shut as tears welled up under them. “My turn?” you asked, your voice slightly scratchy.

Ghost swallowed, your voice was definitely doing something to him. “I don’t know,” he said, “you think you’re awake enough to do it?”

You huffed, “Do I even have a choice?”

“Not really.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you said, letting out a sigh as you cracked your neck. “Give me a second though.” He nodded, watching as you rubbed your hands in front of you, before slapping yourself on the cheeks lightly. “You gonna sleep in here or outside?” you asked, sniffling a little.

He wanted to stay outside with you, but the cold was starting to get to him and he could already feel his back starting to get stiff. “Inside. But I’m showering first,” he said, picking up his bag as he moved to stand up, “and I’m getting your gun. You think I’m gonna let you keep watch unarmed?”

“Don’t bother,” you told him, shaking out your legs as you stood up, “I’ll get it myself.” You followed him into the house, and he could hear you rustling around behind him as he walked into the bathroom. He had forgotten how small the bathroom was, or maybe he was just large. He barely fit between the sink and the door, causing him to have to shuffle awkwardly just to put his bag down.

He let out a sigh as he stared at himself in the mirror, running his hand down his face. Looking in the mirror was always weird for him. In one way, he could look at himself and register that that was Ghost, that was who Ghost was, who he looked like. But Ghost wasn’t the same as Simon, and the face staring back at him? That wasn’t Simon either. He knew Price considered the man under the mask to be Simon, that the mask was what ‘made’ Ghost. But if he was being truthful, he wasn’t really sure if he knew who Simon actually was, if Simon was even still a part of him after all these years, bright-eyed but scared and hidden under the surface.

He looked away, peeling the mask off of his face. He stared at it for a moment before folding it neatly and placing it on the sink. He started taking off the rest of his gear too, his vest, his boots, his belts, the various pockets and holsters he kept clipped to his thighs and the accompanying firearms. He turned on the shower, the pressure was dismal and the water ice cold, before unzipping his jacket, peeling off his undershirt, and stepping out of his pants and boxers.

The water had barely warmed up by the time he got in, sending a shiver down his spine. To make matters worse, the showerhead was much shorter than him, reaching only up to the base of his chin. He winced as a sharp sting of pain shot through him when he tried to crane his neck downwards. He tried reaching for the back of his neck, but the shower was small and maneuvering around was difficult.

His thoughts trailed over to you again. For some reason, it was weird to think that you had been in this same shower just a few hours before. What had you been thinking about then? Had you been thinking about him? Or had you been thinking about the others? If you were thinking about him, what were the specifics? Did you like him or hate him? Want him or not want him? And if you did want him, how did you want him? Did you just want him as a friend or as a trophy? Did you actually want to know him, to be there for him, or was he just an accomplishment for you to boast about, a way to prove you were able to conquer the elusive Ghost?

And what if you wanted him as more than a friend? What if you wanted him the same way he wanted you? With him towering over you, his fingers working miracles inside your wet cunt or with you pressed against him as he thrust into you over and over and over again. Maybe you wanted him to push you down flat against a table and whisper dirty things into your ear as he pulled you back on his cock, or maybe you wanted to push him down on a bed and ride him until your legs gave out and he had to take over for you.

Shit, he thought as his cock began to twitch, but he couldn’t stop himself. His mind kept coming up with new images, new scenarios that only stoked the fire growing in his core. You on your knees, your lips swollen and red and wrapped oh so tightly around him; you sitting on his face, your thighs clenching around his head and your hands gripping on for dear life as you came into his mouth; you tied up to a bed while he held a vibrator to your clit as you whined and wiggled and begged as orgasm after orgasm racked your body.

Fuck. This wasn’t right for him to be thinking of you like this. He was your boss for fuck’s sake, your coworker, your teammate. It wasn’t fair to you for him to be thinking of you this way, not when you were just a few yards away. But god damn it, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been this hard, so hard it was on the verge of hurting and it would be so easy to just get rid of his stupid erection, all he needed was a few minutes. That was all it would take, and besides, what you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you, right? He stifled a groan, using one hand to ease himself onto a wall as the other finally wrapped around his cock.

He shuddered at the touch, staying still for a moment before he started moving his hand. It had been a considerable time since he had touched himself; so long, in fact, that he really couldn’t remember the last time he had. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, trying to imagine it was your hand wrapped around him instead of his. He knew how it would feel too. Somehow, despite all your time in the military, your hands were still butter smooth and pillow soft.

He let his mind continue to fill with dirty thoughts of you as his hand stroked his shaft, letting his head fall back against the wall. He swallowed down a groan as he brushed his thumb over his tip, spreading his precum along his erection. He tried to pretend it was your smooth hand rubbing along his dick instead of his own rough one, letting his mouth hang open as his hand slid along his cock at a steady pace.

He threw his head back against the wall, letting the pleasure wash over him in waves as the fire in the pit of his stomach grew. He could feel his breaths shallow as his hand moved faster along his cock. He snaked another hand down to cup his balls, shuddering at the touch, while his other hand moved to focus on the head of his penis. It wasn’t long until he could feel his balls start to tighten and his cock start to throb. He closed his eyes as he let the pleasure dictate his movements. He focused his attention to his tip, stifling a moan as he finally came onto the tiled wall. He tried to ride out the high for as long as he could, shutting his eyes as he felt his cock start to soften.

He opened his eyes, watching as his cum began to drip down the tile. Shit. Had he really just done that? He could feel the shame bubbling up on his stomach already. God, he was your boss, you trusted him, and he took that trust and spat in its face. He rubbed one of his hands down his face, leaning the other against the shower wall as he considered the weight of what he had just done. He had violated you, and for what? A few seconds of relief? Cupping his hands, he gathered up the cold shower water and splashed it against his face, his eyes falling to stare at the cum-stained wall, a glaring reminder of his wrongdoings.

“Fucking idiot,” he muttered to himself as he washed it off, desperate to get rid of the sight of it. He took one last look at the area, forever tainted by the knowledge of what he did, before reaching for the soap. He felt dirty, dirtier than before, and suddenly he was desperate to clean himself.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, he turned his attention to the rest of his body, grabbing the soap you had left behind and lathering it up in his hands. Washing his body was awkward in the small space, but not completely impossible. He tried bending down again, and this time he was relatively successful. It was painful, considering he probably had a nasty cut on his back and he was essentially hunched over at a forty-five degree angle, but he was able to get his hair wet enough to wash it which was all that mattered.

He finished up his shower, wrapping the towel around his waist as he shook his hair dry. The cabin was much colder without his clothes to keep him warm, but that was the least of his problems. Gracelessly, he turned to examine his back in the mirror, pursing his lips as he saw the nasty scratch just below the base of his neck. He wasn’t surprised at its presence, after all he had felt a bullet graze past him while they were being shot at, but he didn’t realize the extent of the damage. He had assumed it was just a small injury, a minor scratch he could sleep off, but the wound in the mirror was longer than he thought.

He sighed as he reached for his first aid pack, pulling the suture kit out. He turned to the mirror again, trying to get a better look at the scratch. He turned his attention back to the kit, squinting hard as he tried to get a good grip on the needle. Once he was finally able to, he stood up to look in the mirror again, trying to twist around to get a good angle, but it was no use. Ghost threw the needle down onto the sink, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. He knew he should have asked you for help, but he knew the stitches would take a while and he just wanted to sleep.

He put his cargo pants and undershirt back on, ignoring the sting from his back as he grabbed his equipment before tugging on his balaclava once more and exiting the bathroom. The cabin seemed emptier without your presence filling it up with thick tension. He tried to take a deep breath but was interrupted by the stinging pain from his back. He exhaled, clenching his jaw as he bent over to grab his bedroll from his pack.

The sound of creaking behind him caused his head to shoot up, his hand curling around the handle of a small pocket knife he kept in his bag. He swiveled around to see you, your hands in the air with one of them clenched around your blanket. “Woah there, Ghost,” you said jokingly, “I come in peace. You alright?”

He relaxed a little, before remembering what he had done in the shower and stiffening again. “‘M fine. What are you doing here?” he asked, wondering if you had somehow heard him.

You lifted your blanket, “Figured I’d give this to you, that way you can sleep on the bed instead of the floor.”

He eyed you warily, before reaching it out and grabbing it from your hands. “You sure you don’t need it?”

You nodded, your eyes wide and encouraging as you watched him ball it up in his hands. He gave you one last look before turning around to the bedroom, content to call it a day when he heard you gasp. He looked around to see you, one hand over your mouth and the other pointing at him.

“Something wrong?” he asked, his stomach dropping with worry. Did he somehow leave something behind that exposed what he had done in the shower? Fuck. He never would have forgiven himself if this ruined your relationship. He would have to leave the task force, that was for sure, he wouldn’t be able to see you without knowing what he had done, what he had messed up, what could have been.

You stared at him like he was crazy. “Ghost,” you said, your voice laced with disbelief and something else, concern? “Your shirt… There’s blood on it.”

He groaned, partially in annoyance and partially out of relief. Of course his cut started bleeding now. “Oh, that?” he said, feigning ignorance, “it’s nothing, just got clipped back in the forest. It’ll be fine.”

You stared at him, your mouth gaping open. “That is not fine,” you said, “do you see how much blood there is? That needs stitches. Get over here, I’ll sew you up.”

“It’s—”

“No excuses,” you said sternly, silencing the words in his throat. “Sit,” you insisted, pulling a chair from the table.

He sighed, rolling his eyes, but he sat down in the chair nonetheless. “Off,” you said, moving behind him and tugging at his now bloody shirt.

He stilled, his heart skipping a beat. He knew you were just saying it to get access to his wound, but still, it wasn’t like he had ever actually undressed in front of you. “You know, if you wanted to see me shirtless, you could’ve just asked. No need for all this ‘stitches’ business,” he said, trying to hide how nervous he was.

“Ha ha,” you said sarcastically, and he could practically hear you rolling your eyes from behind him. Was that a good sign? Was that a bad sign? He couldn’t tell.

“Just saying,” he said, before lifting the shirt off his body, being careful to not lift his mask in the process. He could hear you suck in a breath as your eyes scanned over his back. He suddenly felt incredibly self conscious as you stared at him; he knew his body was far from perfect. His back alone was littered with scars from wartime, knife scratches and stabs, scrapes and bruises, bullet scars. He knew it was perfectly normal for the military, an occupational hazard, but he couldn’t help but worry you would be disgusted by the sight.

You didn’t say anything though, just groaned quietly as you crouched down — to rifle through your bag, he assumed. “I’ve already got an opened suture kit in my bag,” he said, listening to you stop your searching.

“Oh, so you knew it needed stitches earlier and you still let it sit?” you asked, the disapproval clear in your voice.

He sighed, “Now who’s sounding like Price?”

“Yeah, well, Price is right,” you said, echoing Ghost’s words. “See what happens when you don’t apply stitches? Now I gotta clean up all this blood.”

“All this blood?” he asked, his head tilting towards you slightly, “is there that much?”

You clicked your tongue, and he could feel you eyeing him, “I guess not,” you said after a while, “but your shirt smeared it around a lot. Your back could probably give Carrie a run for her money.”

“Carrie?”

You hummed, the sound of you moving towards the kitchen sink filling the quiet room. “Have you never heard of Carrie?” you asked, turning on the tap.

“Is that the one with the uh, with the girl?”

“The one with the girl?” you called back over your shoulder, “real descriptive there Ghost.”

He scoffed, “Just hurry up and get these stitches done before I fall asleep.”

“Just hurry up and get these stitches done before I fall asleep,” you repeated in a shrill falsetto, mocking him. He turned to watch you as you returned from the sink, a damp cloth in hand and a small smile on your face. “No squirming, the water’s cold.”

He took in a breath when he felt you sliding the cold cloth against the plane of his back, suppressing a shudder when you swiped the fabric over the cut. He stayed still as you continued wiping down his back, listening to your quiet breaths instead.

He tried to ignore the awkwardness that settled in between the two of you. Or maybe there was no awkwardness and it was just a figment of his imagination, because you seemed completely unbothered by the silence. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad thing, that you were so calm even though your fingers were ghosting over his back. He wondered if you could tell how nervous you were making him, how you were making his cheeks heat up under the mask every time your breath tickled his neck, how his muscles tensed up every time your fingers brushed against his skin, how his heart pounded in his chest with every little sigh or concerned click of your tongue. In a weird way, he was thankful for the blood smeared on his back, considering it allowed him a valid excuse if you asked why his skin was turning red.

He felt you lift the cloth off of his back and walk back over to the sink. Your soft hands wringing out reddened water from the fabric as you ran it under the tap. You returned to your spot behind him again, continuing the task of wiping off his bloodied back. You started to hum quietly as you worked, setting off another swarm of butterflies in Ghost’s stomach. He couldn’t tell what you were humming, it could’ve been a song or it could’ve been a random melody you made up. Either way, he enjoyed it just the same, listening closely to every note.

After a while, he felt you take a step back and stare at him for a second, before returning to the sink and discarding the cloth inside it. “Get the kit out,” you said, your back turned to him as you washed your hands. He complied, stifling a groan as he bent over to pull the kit out from his pack. He fiddled with it as he watched you walk back to him, noticing the way your eyes lingered on his chest for a split second before extending it out to you.

“Alrighty, I don’t think I need to tell you this is gonna sting,” you said as you set up your materials. It was silent for a moment, before he felt you put one of your hands against his back for leverage. He tensed up at the touch of your cold hand against his skin, and you pulled your hand away. “Sorry,” you said, sucking in a breath.

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly, “just didn’t expect it.”

You hummed, “So this is okay?” you asked, putting your hand on his back again.

He nodded, stifling a wince as he felt the needle pierce his skin. Once again, you were humming as you worked. For some reason, the entire scene felt oddly domestic: you humming as you patched him up, with a storm raging outside. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine the two of you were in his flat in Manchester.

He had never really given much thought as to what domestic life with you would look like. He had never allowed himself to, after all, what was the point of entertaining a dream that would never become a reality? But now he needed something to take his mind off the painful pricks of the needle, and you had already proved yourself to be a worthy distraction.

He tried to imagine what it would be like to actually live with you, to have someone to do laundry with, to do dishes with, to wake up with, someone to come home to. He had a feeling you would never approve of the way he lived currently. It had been a while since he had been in his flat, but he could still remember how he left it. Light gray walls as bare as when he got them, his closet filled only with empty hangers, his kitchen cabinets empty save for a few pots and pans, and one lonely set of dishware. His bed wasn’t any better, he didn’t even have a bed frame. Just a mattress pushed against one wall, one white pillow at the head and a neatly folded white blanket at the foot.

But if you moved in, everything would change. He could line the walls with photos of the two of you, fill his closet with your clothes. His dishware wouldn’t be lonely because he’d have to get another set for you, and he wouldn’t mind spending the entire day shopping for a bed frame as long as it was with you. He wanted to wake up with you, to be able to roll over and bury his face in your chest; he wanted to come home and wrap you in his arms after a long day, or to feel you sidle up behind him as he prepared breakfast.

The more he thought of a life with you, the more awkward he felt with you behind him. You were so ignorant of everything he thought, you didn’t know how badly he wanted you, how he would kill anyone for a chance with you. In your mind, he was nothing more than a coworker, someone you only talked to at work, but in his mind, you were his entire world. When he let his mind run wild, you took up every thought, every whim, every idea. You were tattooed on his mind in technicolor; everything was laced with your presence, your being.

“Alright,” you chirped, clapping your hands together. “Stitches are all done. I can’t believe how well you took that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that even Price at least winces whenever he gets stitched up. No offense, Ghost, but sometimes I seriously question your humanity.”

“What, you think I’m a robot?”

You snorted, “It wouldn’t surprise me, especially with that mask. It really sells the impression that you’re a cold, heartless, killer.”

“Yeah well, can’t let the enemy know I’ve got a heart, can I? That’s a sure recipe for disaster.”

“Oh so you do have a heart?” you asked, turning to face him.

“Last I checked.”

“And I’m just supposed to take your word for it?”

“What, you want proof?”

You shrugged, “Can’t hurt.”

Ghost stared at you for a moment, his mind racing a thousand miles a minute. He didn’t know what possessed him when his hand reached out for yours; it was as if he no longer had control of his body and he was just a spectator being forced to watch as his body moved on its own. His hand grabbed yours, and he watched as you stilled, but didn’t pull away. He pulled your hand to his chest, letting it settle above his heart.

Ghost tried his best to keep his breaths steady and his heart from hammering in his chest, but between the warmth of your hand against his cold skin and your wide eyes which were trained on his, he had a feeling his heart might have skipped a few beats. It was silent for a moment before you spoke.

“I guess I was wrong,” you whispered, your eyes flickering down to sneak another glance at his chest.

“I guess so,” he said in response, his eyes dipping down to stare at your lips. They were reddish-pink and slightly chapped from the cold weather; Ghost wanted to kiss them. Slowly, he looked back up at you, meeting your gaze. You seemed awfully nervous all of a sudden; a stark contrast to your usually confident and relaxed nature. He wondered if he was making you nervous, and if it was a good nervous or a bad nervous.

He didn’t want you to be nervous that he would hurt you; he would never hurt you. Doing so would be like stabbing himself in the heart, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t look at your tear-filled eyes and know that he was responsible. He wanted you to be nervous that he had caught you staring, that he knew you liked him. Of course, Ghost didn’t know anything at the moment. Once he realized how distracting you were to him, he made himself stop trying to read you, that way he wouldn’t have to worry about even more things.

“Oh shit,” you said, breaking the silence, “you said you were tired right? You should probably go to sleep, I don’t want to keep you up.”

Ghost was slightly disappointed as you pulled your hand away, but the way it lingered for just a second too long — as if you wanted to go back for another touch — didn’t slip by him. “Of course,” he said, rising from his seat, “we’ve got a long day tomorrow. We need to find the others and secure exfil. I don’t think we’re gonna be taking on Zhelyazkov any time soon after this.”

You nodded, your lips pressed into a line as you watched him grab his hoodie from his bag and slip it on. “Wake me up when you get tired,” he said, turning towards the bedroom.

“Yes, sir,” you said.

The soft cushion of the bed was a warm welcome compared to the hard wood of the chair, although this time he didn’t have the warmth of your hands to keep him company. He set his stuff down next to his bed, letting out a groan as he lay down. It felt like ages had passed since they first arrived at Zhelyazkov’s base and he started shooting at them. Ghost let his eyes fall shut as exhaustion began to kick in, his mind too tired to think. Sleep came to him quickly once his head hit the pillow. His eyelids became too heavy to open and he could feel his body sinking into the mattress.

Ghost wasn’t typically a dreamer, and yet that night, he dreamt of you. There wasn’t much meaning or direction to his dreams, just images and flashes of you, brief pockets of peacefulness or lust. He dreamt of waking you up in the morning with breakfast in bed, savoring the way you smiled up at him, your sleep-filled eyes crinkling at the corners. He dreamt of holding you against the wall, one leg wrapped over his shoulder as he ate you out, drinking in the way you cried out his name. He dreamt of walking along the street with you, one hand wrapped tightly around your waist as he admired the way you looked up at him with loving eyes. He dreamt of thrusting into you on a fur rug in front of a fireplace, delighting in the way your nails scratched down his back.

For too long, you had been nothing more than a distraction to Ghost. It was all he allowed himself to categorize you as, a mere inconvenience in his job. It was all he allowed himself to categorize you as, because the truth? The truth was that you were so much more.

You weren’t just the reason Ghost forgot to triple check his intel; you were the reason he looked forward to early morning meetings with the team. You weren’t just the reason Ghost had gotten sloppy at covering his tracks; you were the reason his heart fluttered whenever you were nearby. You were the reason his chest skipped a beat whenever you brushed up against him, you made his cheeks heat up whenever you pretended to flirt. You were the reason he flared up with jealousy whenever you talked to Soap instead of him. You were the reason for his bad mood when he didn’t see you at breakfast. You were the reason he felt safe; you were the reason he lowered his guard. You were the reason he made himself get up in the morning. You were the reason he let himself dream at night.

1K notes · View notes

bedoballoons · 1 year

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hello!!! I was reading your story of the low characters in Genshin finding out that we like tall guys, imagine if it were the other way around?! How fun it would be haha

and then imagine. You’re talking with Yandere! Childe about your type of man and you say that it’s traveler because he is short. Or to Zhongli and says that we like Xiao or Venti. I was thinking in many characters to use that idea

(and I was thinking in write that, but my English is bad and I use the translator very frequently. But, I hope you understand what I’m saying because I’m bad at English and I’m learning this language lol)

sorry if have grammatical errors it’s because I’m dumb, have a good day/night!!!

You're not dumb at all!! I loved your version of this so I hope you enjoy mine as well!! Thank you for the idea <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Reader likes them short~༺}

CW: Yandere themes! Slight angst, very small mention of blood, a couple curse words, creepy tones, tall men find out you like short boys and they aren't happy about it!

A/n: So for the short boy you're crushing on, I made Dilucs headcanon with Albedo, Zhonglis with Xiao, Alhaithams with Cyno, Neuvillettes with Lyney and Childes with the traveler!

(Includes: Diluc, Zhongli, Alhaitham, Neuvillette, and Childe!)

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𑁍༄Diluc:

Dilucs crimson eyes stared deeply into yours, his stoic expression making you just the tiniest bit uncomfortable under his piercing gaze...it was just a simple question. All he wanted to know was your type of guy, but it was the fact that he'd never asked anything like it before and how he acted so intense afterwords, like your answer could change his life as he knew it.

"Ahem...you don't have to answer if you don't want to, I was just curious is all." He finally looked away from you, grabbing a dirty glass from the stack and rubbing it with his hand held rag, just like he would any other day. It actually calmed you down a bit to see him at work, your worries dissipating at the familiar sight, "No I don't mind, I was just...a little nervous at first. Don't go telling anyone, but I actually find Albedo pretty attractive, he's much shorter than most of the Knights of Favonious and I find it endearing."

Suddenly the glass Diluc has been holding shattered, almost like it had exploded, shards flying across the counter and onto the floor, cuts making themselves known on his hands. It made you jump halfway out of your seat, "Diluc are you alright?!"

"I-im...fine."

Never in your life had you heard such deep anger in his voice and the look in his eyes...something wasn't right.

𑁍༄Zhongli:

"You say you've taken a liking to adeptus Xiao? I must say, he's certainly a interesting character and loyal,...but he's not without his faults. His worries about karmic debt and his need to conquer demons, paired with his troublesome attitude could prove...difficult in a relationship." Zhongli set a cup of tea in front of you, speaking his mind about your recent confession, years of experience handling himself in situations like this now working in his favour.

He was more than jealous of your feelings for someone else, infact it seeped into the core of his very being and ate away at him, but for now he had to play nice. You caught more bees with honey after all, "Of course I don't want to persuade you to not try, I just hope you won't be to disappointed when he rejects the idea of it."

You took a sip of the tea, it's warm unique flavours delicious on your tongue, "I don't mind, I just don't want to give up easily. He's just... impressive is all. He's so short and yet he still somehow exudes pure strength. Amazing~" You started to daydream towards the end, thinking about the handsome adeptus while Zhongli stared into his cup of tea like he was planning to start a new archon war.

"Yes...he's so amazing."

𑁍༄Alhaitham:

Alhaitham was very good at not caring about other people's problems, he'd sit down with a good book while people droned on about every little thing that bothered them and he wouldn't even hear a word, he'd almost consider it a talent of his...,but then you arrived. You'd make his heart race and his pupils dilate, it was like everything in him changed, he wanted to hear all about you. Everything and anything...that is, until you mentioned your general type of man.

"I like shorter guys, they are almost always adorable and have past trauma that I can help with. Oh oh! Like General Mahamatra Cyno, he's absolutely dreamy." Your cheeks blushed at the thought of him, your heart skipping a beat, he really did have a affect on you...and it was blatantly obvious.

"You like...Cyno? I'm not his biggest fan." Alhaitham snapped his book closed loudly, making you jump and catching you completely off guard. He almost never did that, actually he'd gotten annoyed with you when you had because he said it harmed the books...although in reality you had assumed he just didn't want you touching his precious books to begin with.., "Alhaitham...what was that all about?"

"You must be blind to adoration...it's fine. One day I'll show you."

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

"My apologies, but could you repeat that? Did you just say that your romantic feelings are purely based off Lyneys height...I know full well he's a bit of a flirt and that in itself along with the fact he's a famous magician would be reason enough to find him attractive,...but your main reason, is simply how tall he is?" Neuvillette sat in front of you, swirling the water in his glass with a slight look of distain, not for the beverage of course, but rather the idea of you liking...Lyney.

"There's just something about shorter men that makes me feel flustered, maybe it has something to do with the fact they are usually considered underdogs because of it, or maybe it's simply because they tend to be cuter. I don't really know, but it's the truth. What about you Neuvie?" You looked at him expectantly, eyes shining with curiosity and for a split second he thought about uttering the truth, explaining how madly in love with you he was.

He could talk for hours just about your beauty, your laugh that soothed even his darkest quells, but for now he'd keep those feelings to himself and try his best not to think of...Lyney possibly stealing you away from him. After all...a dragon could easily take out a mere magician and he didn't want to hurt anyone, at least...not yet.

𑁍༄Childe:

Childe punched the training dummy harder, his knuckles bruises with every fist he threw and his heart pounding so loud that it felt like his ears could explode...how could you like the traveler over him? It wasn't even because of strength or personality! You're only comment was, "He's not as tall as others and...I guess it just makes him standout to me." What kind of confession was that?

He threw a harder punch, anger blinding him as sent the dummy flying off its stand, clattering on the ground like cheap kindle wood. "Shit." He took a deep breath, trying to not think about you, but you were the only thing he could think about anymore...

"Childe, you know, I don't think you're supposed to break the training dummies." Your voice instantly drew his attention, eyes locking onto your beautiful self as you made your way towards him, your hands ruffling his bright orange hair and making hims swoon.

Why did you have to like someone else...

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

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nyashykyunnie · 1 year

Note

MY TIME HAS ARRIVED!! Here another simp present from daddy Sung Jin woo.... Ahhhh!! Well my application has the yandere element because I'm addicted to this genre, sorry if it bothers you (you can remove it even though my application would lose meaning) Well then, I'm sorry for my shitty memory and stuff, since I read the manhwa 3 years ago and barely I remember a potato. So, could you make a yandere request Sung Jinwoo where he is slowly falling into his obsession and more as he rises through the ranks as a hunter until almost reaching shadow monarch? You see, the reader was his friend (sorry I'll use the feminine term) She always supported him and gave him love, however behind all those smiles and joy, (Y/N)/Reader had other problems (it's not anguish) Basically it's sung Jinwoo being a big baby trying to protect his beloved from everything hahahaha.... incidentally killing bad people and monsters as well as possessiveness involved. I'm sorry if this bothers you, to compensate I leave a drawing of denji made by me... it's not the best, bye!!

a/n: LET ME TELL YOU HOW I FREAKED OUT WHILE I VISUALIZED YANDERE SUNG JINWOO I WENT WRRRR!!! YANDERE SUNG JINWOO HAS MY HEART I LOVE HIM AS A GREEN BUT A RED FLAG JINWOO????!!!! SIGN ME UP PLEASE!!! I hope you don't mind me using Gn<33 ALSO I LOVE THE LIL ARTWORK THAT CAME WITH THE REQ ITS SO ADORABLE!!!!

Yandere! Sung Jinwoo x Gn! Reader

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 009 ✦ ┆・

﹢　˖ 　✦ ¸ .　﹢　 ° 　¸. ° ˖ ･ ·̩　　｡　☆. 　﹢　˖ 　✦ ¸ .

It was enough points when your are a friend. But the fact that you've seen Jinwoo way before he transcended as the Shadow Monarch and the world? Oh his obsession is much more concerning

Unlike the typical yanderes that looses control every once in a while, Jinwoo has great control over his emotions.

His obsession is quiet, as if it was poison.

The stronger he gets, the more manipulative he gets.

Do you notice? No. Of course you dont.

Jinwoo is so nice after all.

The best way to manipulate someone is to make them believe you're harmless.

His way of manipulating you is simple.

Jinwoo makes you rely on him. Solely on Him only.

No one else but him. Just him alone.

Perhaps he purposely puts you in danger. Not really in danger-danger.

Just... Shaking you up a little by letting monsters go your way and he swoops in the moment you're absolutely frightened like the knight in shining armor he is.

He'll comfort you. Cooing at you gently, letting you know he's just there for you.

You're fine...You're fine... Your Jinwoo is here, he'll protect you no matter what.

Don't be scared. He's here. Don't be scared.

He'll use this method. Over and over again until you are paranoid without his presence.

He's the type of obsessive lover that wants you to solely rely on him and him only.

Just him.

You know that he only wants the best for you, right? There, there.

He'l slowly put that venom into you, until you're nothing more than a paranoid, sweet little thing who only seeks to be in his loving arms.

Jinwoo isn't the direct type after all.

He'll just play you like a doll.

You know that he's only doing for you anyway.

It's for your own good.

Oh, but of course he's not only does he manipulate you.

He can be quite jealous too.

Jinwoo isn't vocal about this though. He'll just continously glare at the person who is talking to you.

He'll give them three warnings.

The First Time: He'll let them off

The Second Time: He'll start paying more attention.

The Third Time: They better enjoy their last meal.

After all, they won't be waking up tomorrow anymore

After that, he'll be a bit pouty. He'll be cuddling you gently as his mind goes dark on trying to figure out ways to make people stop approaching you.

He ponders deeply as he held you in his arms

Oh well.

He'll just has to figure that out soon.

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

#solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #solo leveling #sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo headcanons #solo leveling headcanons #sung jin woo headcanons #sung jinwoo x gn reader #sung jinwoo hcs

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peachyjinx · 1 year

Note

Hi! How are you?

For a smutty request can i request: loki works in the libary and you go there almost everyday just to see him and get away. You always watch him from afair. Loki always knows your watching him. You keep doing this month after month till loki takes you and you have sex in between libary shelves of books where everyone can see you both. Please and thank you. If this doesn't inspire you its ok no worries.

So, here's the thing- it was so inspirational that I got carried away and this became a one shot 🤣. I wrote this Loki as TDW Loki. I dunno, it just fit as a moody librarian lol. Enjoy!

The Librarian

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: 18+, public sex, soft!dom Loki, fucking in a library

You couldn’t help but watch him. His perfect silken hair, inky in color, the curls always looking meticulously groomed. How you longed to run your fingers through them. How you craved to feel his passionate kiss. How you burned to see his hair messy from lust and sex.

Everyone had a crush on Loki, and he knew it. He knew he was incredibly attractive and he shamelessly flirted, clearly enjoying the attention when he was in the mood for it. Other days he seemed to be almost annoyed by the attention and read his books behind the counter, practically ignoring the people who came to ask unnecessary questions.

You’d been coming to this library for a while, but when Loki started working here a couple months ago, you came more often than you needed to. And you had a feeling you weren’t the only one, as word about the new sexy librarian spread throughout the neighborhood to mom groups and book clubs. It seemed more bustling than in years past, or maybe people just wanted to read more?

Of course you had spoken to him a couple times, attempting to flirt while he kindly spoke with you and answered your questions with a wink and a dashing smile. But those brief interactions never led to anything more, and you accepted your fate of watching him from afar. Over time, it became comfortable as you quietly read in a corner within eyesight of him.

The only issue was not getting distracted when he was being his naturally sexy self. His strong arms tensing as he carried large stacks of books, his ass straining in his tight pants as he pushed carts, or his laughter echoing through the halls were all common interruptions from your reading. You had managed to sort out his schedule, and knew when to visit now during peak “Loki hours”. You should have shame, but what’s wrong with ogling a fine male specimen while reading a good book?

Today the weather is wickedly cold and rainy, and you are thankful for that. People didn’t tend to want to leave the house to go to the library in this type of rain, so you know you’d be able to get your favorite seat near the periodicals where you could quietly read and subtly watch Loki. You decide to head out mid morning, spend a couple hours in your new favorite spot, and then off to lunch.

As you walk in and put your umbrella in the canister and remove your soaking raincoat, you see him curtly give you a nod while he pushes a cart towards the children’s section. He’s wearing a tight black sweater with his black trousers that accentuated his ass perfectly. That was another thing you liked about him- he knew how to dress himself perfectly. You sigh deeply as he walks away from you, and resign yourself to your book selection. You look around and only see a few people, just as you had hoped.

You decide on historical fiction today, picking a book on Eleanor Roosevelt and settling into the comfortable red chair in the back corner with the great view of Loki behind his desk. If the story is good enough, you’ll check it out (and get to talk to Loki).

You begin reading, the words on the paper becoming your focus as the world around you melted. Time seems to have stood still as you entered the world of the White House in the 1930s.

“And what are we reading today, darling?”, a deep voice from next to you asks, making you jump. You look up to see Loki smiling down at you from beside the chair.

“Oh! You scared me! Um…‘White Houses’,” you look at him with surprise, not sure how to react to his sudden presence and curiosity.

“Ah yes, the forbidden love of Eleanor and Lorena. Tell me, what speaks to you about this story?”, Loki casually pulls up a chair, as if he’s known you forever.

You feel yourself get hot, suddenly realizing it’s just the two of you, chatting about books as you had always imagined. You try not to get distracted by how blue his eyes look today, or how sculpted his body is under the tight sweater.

“Well I’ve just started it, but I've read her biographies and I think she’s fascinating…”, you feel yourself a bit tongue tied in his presence.

“So you’re reading for the love story, then? I’ve noticed you check out a wide variety of books, both fiction and nonfiction. Haven’t seen many romance novels,” he comments without pretense.

He noticed something about you? You feel almost embarrassed, wondering what your book selection says about you. What does he like to read? Should you ask him that or is that corny because he’s a librarian?

“You’re quite the library mouse, aren’t you?”, he asks as he leans back in his seat, folding a long leg over a knee.

“Library mouse?,” you repeat, still feeling confused by what’s happening.

“Like a bookworm- but you’re much cuter than that”, he winks and smirks, making your stomach flip.

“Tell me, why do you always sit here? Or near the front? There are far more comfortable places near the back of the second floor, by the encyclopedias. No one needs them anymore with the internet, that area is much more peaceful and quiet. That’s where I would read if it were me,” Loki looks to his desk as a woman approaches.

“Um, I’m not sure, I just like this spot,” you feel your cheeks starting to blush. What is going on? Is he hitting on you? Did he say you were cute??

“I wonder if it is not so much the books that you enjoy, as the view? Hm?,” he teases as he stands and waves to acknowledge the woman who was waiting for him.

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” you feign ignorance, hoping he’s buying it. “I just like this comfortable chair”, you claim with confidence.

“Ah yes, of course. Enjoy your book!”, he cheerfully smiles and heads back to his station, greeting the woman standing there.

You sit there in shock about what just transpired. Should you ask him on a date? No, because if he refuses it will be mortifying and you’ll never be able to return again. Was he just hitting on you? Seemed like it.

There’s no way you’re going to concentrate on your book now.You wait for the right moment when he’s away from the front, return your book and leave.

You can’t stop smiling for days as you replay your brief conversation with Loki.

~~~~

You decided to wait longer before going back to the library again, and let yourself cool off. The idea of talking to Loki again thrilled you, and you can’t wait to see him, but you don’t want to come off too eager. For the last couple months, you thought of him frequently (mostly when you were getting yourself off), but now you feel like a fire has been lit. Loki sitting and chatting with you was just throwing gasoline on a simmering fire, and it felt like it consumed you.

Today is another dreary rainy day, and you knew he worked. Perfect. You make sure to head around the same time as when you last spoke, hoping to replicate (or advance) what happened last time.

You walk in and remove your wet belongings, heading to your favorite corner. You stop mid stride, seeing that your large chair is gone, and in its place is a small table and two small chairs. You scowl and glance at Loki behind his desk. He doesn’t look up in your direction or acknowledge your presence, he stays immersed in his book.

Well now, what? You think back to what he said before, that he’d go to the second floor by the encyclopedias. You huff with annoyance and venture to the large staircase, hoping to solve this mystery. You could just talk to him, but he seemed to be in one of his moods and you don’t want to tarnish what little you had.

As you turn the corner around the shelves you see it- the big, red chair you love. Why is it here, where he had said he would go to read? Is this his way of saying he doesn't want you watching him?

You feel a pang in your stomach. Oh my god how embarrassing, you think to yourself.

You’ve been lusting after this sexy librarian and he’s had enough and moved you away. You collapse in your chair, feeling your chest tighten.

You can’t stay here, feeling mortified, so you quickly head down the steps towards your umbrella and jacket.

“Leaving so soon?,” Loki calls to you, his voice echoing through the empty lobby.

“Yea…I forgot…an appointment”, you force yourself to look at his face as you throw on your jacket as quickly as possible, and see him peering over his book with a sly grin.

You slow down, summoning the courage to ask what was going on, his smile and chattiness disarming you.

“So, what’s with my chair?,” you ask cautiously.

“I felt like rearranging the furniture a bit. You don’t like it?”

“No, I told you I liked it down here,” you hear an edge to your voice that surprises you.

“Well just think of how much privacy you have back there, now,” he smiles, unbothered by your tone.

Loki sets his book down and stands up, walking with his trademark swagger over to where you’re standing still in the heart of the lobby. He’s wearing a black button down with black slacks, very tailored and expensive looking. You feel weak in your knees as he saunters up to you.

“Yes, but …that wasn’t really what I was going for there…”, you feel your mind spinning, like he’s messing with you, playing with you like a cat that has its prey cornered. It excites you as electricity runs through your body.

“And what, pray tell, were you going for?,” he drawls, his voice deeper than before as he gets closer to you. You look up at his gaze, seeing a hunger in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

The phone rings, making you jump. Loki rolls his eyes and turns away from you, slowly walking back towards the desk.

Not sure what to do now, you decide to still leave since you said you had an appointment. Whatever just happened wasn’t about to continue while he was at work, anyways.

“Goodbye, little mouse!,” you hear in the distance as you step out into the cold rain.

~~~~

Today is the day. You’re going to ask him out. Last week confirmed that he definitely wants something with you. He’s made it clear in his own Loki way that he’s into you. You think about the other day and clench your legs together, as warmth floods your core. He is so undeniably sexy that you just can’t resist him.

Why did he move your chair, though? That was weird.

Since today is warmer, you opt for a tight knit shirt and knee length skirt with boots. Hopefully this is the winning outfit and he can’t help but say yes to a date with you. You chuckle to yourself, fearing it’s really going to all go wrong and you’ll never be able to go to this library branch again.

You walk in through the front door with a spring in your step, but are surprised to see a line at the desk as Loki talked to patrons. He glances towards you, winks, and continues to patiently listen to the older woman in front of him.

You decide to head upstairs towards your chair, where you can make a more formal plan.

You nervously walk through the aisles next to your chair, full of the encyclopedias no longer opened. You’re not sure how you’re going to do this. Just walk up to him and ask him to dinner? Slip him your number?

“Hello, Little Mouse. My, you look stunning today…I like the skirt”, you hear his husky voice from behind you.

“Oh! Loki-”, you spin around to see him, backing up to the shelf to create space between the two of you when you realize how close he is. He’s wearing a dark green button down and black tie, with dark slacks. Always so neat and together, he exudes confidence and masculinity.

Loki steps forward, closing the gap between the two of you. You feel flush, not knowing what’s going to come next as you look up into his eyes. His eyes have the same fire as last week- desire.

He reaches forward, gently pulling your neck towards him into an intense kiss. You moan into his mouth, savoring the moment that you’ve waited for for so long while you rake your fingers through his hair. Loki pushes himself up against you, and you feel the bookshelf digging into your back. Your kiss becomes fierce, full of tongue and teeth as the two of you finally get what you’ve been craving.

You break the kiss, “Loki, what are you…?”.

“Oh darling, don’t deny it- I know you’ve been watching me for the last couple of months. At first I thought it was just a coincidence, but then I realized it was infatuation. And I found myself, well, charmed by you as well,” his eyes meet yours with earnestness and a tinge of mischief.

Loki grinds his hip into yours and you feel his erection through his tight pants. You bite your lip to keep from a loud moan escaping your mouth as your hands dig into his hair and back while you curl your body to his.

“And this is why I lured you up here…” Loki continues while kissing and nibbling your neck. Quickly, his hands pull at your skirt, hiking it up. His fingers expertly pull aside your panties, as he feels the wetness pooling for him- you’re ready for him already. He begins to gently massage your clit, and you feel the heat gushing to your core.

“Wait, someone could see us!,” you hiss, while also bucking your hips onto his hand, your lust betraying you.

“And?”, he growls, raising his head. His gaze penetrates yours, daring you to resist.

“Take me, Loki,” you begged quietly while you clung to his taut body.

You hear the sound of his buckle clinking as he unfastens it while you quickly remove your panties, the two of you wasting no time.

Loki’s strong arms hoist you up under your thighs against the large bookshelf, the discomfort and fear of getting caught fueling your lust. You wrap your arms around his powerful shoulders, fingers tangling in his perfect hair.

Loki’s lips are on yours again, as he lines himself up and slowly pushes his hard cock inside of you to the hilt. The two of you groan in unison into each other’s mouths. Loki breaks the kiss, his forehead laying on yours as the two of you pant quietly.

His cock is huge, and he takes a moment for you to adjust. You stay still, your warm core wrapped around him, relishing in how full you feel.

“You feel so amazing darling,” he says with a gravelly voice. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of its chest, the excitement overwhelming you.

“Oh God Loki-,” you started to respond, but he quickly puts his hand over your mouth.

“I’ve wanted this for some time, but I need you to be quiet,” he commands, and you nod in response.

Loki begins to thrust slowly and deliberately, his cock pumping into your tight hole. The angle of your hips pushes him deeper than anyone has ever been, filling you completely. Your hands cling to the soft fabric of his shirt and the toned muscle beneath.

Loki quietly grunts as he deeply penetrates you, rhythmically rocking his hips against yours. His eyebrows slant as he closes his eyes and pants quietly into your ear. You feel his strength and power all around you, making you feel so small. His hand on your mouth is salty from sweat as he pushes into you, taking you as he needs.

Your eyes are screwed tight and you focus on the feeling of him inside of you, the smell of his cologne and the old books wafting in the air.You hear the sound of his belt buckle rattling as his hips thrust his length inside of you at an even pace. Even though no one should be up here, you feel like you’re on display as your sexy librarian fucks you like there’s no tomorrow. It’s all so powerful and you feel yourself getting close to orgasm already.

Loki’s grip on your ass tightens, and you can tell he’s trying to hold back from fucking you too loudly or making noise. There’s a sudden loud thud behind you, as a book falls off of the shelf and your eyes flash open.There’s no way people don’t know what’s going on now. Your eyes flash to his with concern and he smiles devilishly as he shifts your hips backwards, his cock hitting your g spot perfectly.

You whine behind his hand and he shakes his head, increasing his speed and maintaining eye contact. You feel the tightening in your belly, and know you’re only moments away from coming.

From the corner of your eye, you see an older woman venture around the corner, looking shocked. You try to mumble to Loki as his thrusts get faster and you feel yourself closer to climax. She quickly darts back behind the shelving and you close your eyes tightly, relishing in the feeling of being pounded into a bookshelf.

Another thud behind you, your back now aching from the metal shelving, you look to Loki, who’s now gritting his teeth fiercely. His hand on your mouth is tightening, painful to you as he strains to contain himself.

He leans forward and whispers in your ear with a deep, gravelly voice, “Cum for me, darling”. That’s all it takes as you tighten around his cock, and he thrusts harshly into you while you come around his cock. Your legs shake and your body writhes while Loki pistons into you relentlessly. As you tighten around him, Loki quickly follows you, throwing his head back with his eyes closed, teeth gnashed together as he holds back the sounds he’s desperate to make.

Waves of ecstasy crash over you as your orgasm wanes and Loki continues to slowly pump inside of you as he comes down from his. His sculpted neck shows his veins pulsing as he continues to look towards the ceiling. You look at him in awe, this man, who is more otherworldly than you could have possibly imagined.

He looks down to you and removes his hand from your mouth and chuckles, and you smile at him with relief. You messily kiss him again, the two of you enjoying the moment of him still inside you. He slowly removes himself, gently putting you back on the ground.

You can’t believe how strong he is, to hold you up like that while he fucked you senseless. The afterglow is so strong, you feel like you can barely speak. It was even better than you had imagined.

“Thank you, that was…incredible,” you gush as you find your panties and slide them back on while he buckles his belt. Loki takes you into a hug, kissing the top of your head.

“Yes, it was darling,” he hums. “Now I have to go back downstairs to work,” he rests his hands on your shoulders, looking at you with his piercing blue eyes. He combs his messy hair to it's pre-sex state as best he can, and you smirk to yourself with pride.

“I want you to stay, relax, and read as you always would,” he cups your face, kissing you slowly one more time before heading towards the stairs. Your body feels alight with energy, heat, and an intense need to be around him. As he walks away, you glance towards your chair.

“Loki, are you keeping my chair up here?”

“Oh yes, darling. If I have a burning desire to fuck you, I’d like it to be in a less conspicuous place. If you’re always up here, I can take you any time I please,” he smiles wickedly, then strolls down the large staircase.

----

Peachyjinx Masterlist

#loki smut #loki x reader #dom!loki x sub!reader #dom!loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki

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alienpossession · 2 years

Text

So I recently connected with some other authors here and read some alien-based stories that inspired me. This is a one-off from a series called Check-Up by @fullfriendnerdpurse hopefully I do your series justice

Check Up: Eric

A young and nerdy scientist worked on side by side to let powerful men around his own proximity and even the whole world fell victim to the control of a crash-landed small batch of extraterrestrial civilization. His lustful desire to the idea of having the apex of human civilization succumbed to the control of him and his invader buddies blinded him. He's sick and tired with the way society treated him and constantly paid attention to the type of men that pushed people around with their powerful influencer or their good looks and muscle. One of them is named Eric

The alien shoved into him clearly enjoyed the otherworldly senses it instantly felt upon controlling Eric's muscle tank body. The testosterone that coursed through his physical system, the complexity of his muscle and organ that far exceeded the complexity of the slimy being, the way his whole body emitted this powerful aroma and pheromone, the alien just knows it acquired a very fine specimen in human standard

A gym junkie with a day job as premium real estate agent, Eric is also a fine stepping stones to access an even richer and more douchebag section of the society. He's been proven useful as he managed to work alongside the nerd to acquire more bodies for the alien as he lured in the interested property buyer into the property where the nerd already waited with a scoop of slimy alien ready to be shoved up into these rich people's orifices

The alien inside Eric also love to tap into Eric's hidden submissiveness. While the real Eric might not be too keen to tap into his more vulnerable side, the alien love to exploit it because Eric's body just responded to it very well with the hardening cock that leaked pre which the alien always enjoyed to experience. So sometimes, after a day where he helped the nerd acquire another bodies, the alien would make Eric said things like

"Look at you buff dumb bull. After fucking up your own marriage to serve small puddle of slime, now you fucked up another family! Because of you, the 27th richest man in America and his 31 years old son controlled by alien now and you are fucking hard because of it! You stupid little slut, a body so big but there's nothing inside of it,"

The alien also remain amazed with its vessel's physique even after months living as him. Either through his social media activity that the nerd watched or when they have video call, it is one of the vessel that is having the most fun utilizing its vessel as it makes Eric more on the playful side rather than arrogant.

During his latest check-up after the video call from the previous week, he welcomed the nerd while doing workout in his garage. He's shirtless and only using a pretty colorful socks (something the alien also love to add to Eric's monochromatic attire set) paired with a tight compression that hid nothing to the imagination.

After doing some more rep of his workout while updating the nerd with info about his activity for the past 1 month, they walked in and the nerd then watched him cleaned up after himself for the check up. He skipped showering for most of the time unless he really need to such as meeting prospective buyer, so the idea of clean up is simply him changing clothes.

Being the playful slime that it is, it started teasing the nerdy scientist as Eric suddenly started jiggling his own ass in the tight short shorts and folded himself to present his ass to the nerd with its vial

"Please, it's been a while. I'll shoot my load if you just pressed that tip in, nerd. Just do it,"

The nerd just smirked, the perks of being the number one ally for a cooperative alien civilization really becomes the number one reason why he's constantly in search for more vessel to acquire, and with the way that the slime multiplies, it seems like there's no stopping soon

#alien possession #male possession #alien expansion #check up

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rippledawn · 5 months

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among all the pain there was you | mapi leon x ingrid engen

AN: So funny story but I actually wrote this back in February at the encouragement of a friend. But then I never got around to typing it up, so it's just been sitting in a notebook for a couple months. I'm sick this weekend though, and so with my new found free time I finally got around to polishing it off, and here we are. This is also available on ao3 for anyone who prefers.

I've never written anything for this fandom before, but soccer has taken a hold of my obsessions like no other, so. Hope people enjoy!

Tags: injury, hurt/comfort, fluff

When Mapi had torn her meniscus, at first all she’d felt was pain. She had felt a pop in her knee, and immediately the pain had begun to rush in, forcing her to the ground.

But after she had been taken off the training pitch and healthily dosed up with painkillers, the dread had begun to set in. She knew this was bad. The scans hadn’t been done yet, but she knew what she had felt, and it wasn’t good. Even worse, Ingrid was out with a cold today, and couldn’t be there to comfort her.

“How bad is it?” Mapi asked the doctor.

“We won’t know for sure till we can run more tests tomorrow, but I’m sorry Mapi, it doesn’t look good.”

All Mapi wanted to do now was go home and cry. This was it, her season was over. And she hadn’t gotten the chance to help Barcelona win the league for the 5th time in a row, or get them to another champions league final, or lift the Supercopa trophy one more time.

And what about the team? Jana and Irene were both already injured, and while Ingrid was doing a great job filling in as a centre-back it wasn’t her natural position by any means.

As Mapi was trying to hold herself together, she looked up at a knock on the door to see Ingrid standing there, waiting to come in.

“Corazón, what are you doing here? You’re sick, you should be at home, resting.” Mapi motioned for Ingrid to enter the room.

“Of course I am here Maria, I came as soon as I heard you were injured. You are the most important thing to me. Now come, let me take you home.”

Mapi was really struggling to hold back the tears now that Ingrid was here. But she grabbed her crutches and nodded.

Ingrid stayed close to her as Mapi hobbled her way out of the Barcelona training centre.

“How are you really feeling, min kjaere?” Ingrid asked softly.

“I’m fine, corazón,” Mapi tried to put on a brave face and smile but Ingrid looked at her with doubt in her eyes.

“Alright Maria, let’s just get you home, ok?”

Mapi nodded and they headed to the car.

—

The whole car ride home, Mapi could feel Ingrid chancing glances filled with worry over at her every time the car stopped, but she struggled to keep herself together and not let herself fall apart.

As they pulled into the driveway Mapi let out a shaky sigh. All she wanted to do was go lay in bed and cry, but she didn’t want to worry Ingrid. She would be fine eventually, no need to make a big deal out of it.

“Come on kjaere, let’s get you inside.”

Ingrid was looking at her like she was made of glass. Something precious that needed to be treated with care. It only made Mapi want to cry more.

They entered the house and Ingrid got Mapi settled on the couch while she went to go order dinner.

“What would you like for dinner, kjaere? I’m thinking we could order your favourite, sushi? How does that sound?”

Mapi just nodded mutely while Ingrid looked on in concern.

“How are you really feeling, Maria? And don’t tell me you’re fine, you clearly aren’t fine, and you don’t have to be.”

Mapi finally broke and burst into tears. Ingrid immediately sat down and pulled Mapi into her arms.

“Oh shh, shh, just let it all out, I’ve got you.”

Ingrid sat there and held Mapi while she cried for what felt like ages, feeling like her own heart was breaking the whole while.

“Come on Maria, talk to me, let me support you.”

“That’s the rest of my season over, Ingrid. I know it hasn’t been confirmed but I know my own body. I don’t know if I can cope with being out for that long, I’ve never done this before.”

Mapi looked like she was about to burst into sobs again and Ingrid pulled her close and held her tight.

“It’ll be ok Maria, you won’t have to get through this alone. I’ll be here for you every step of the way.”

“But what if I can’t do it, Ingrid? What if I never play like I did before, what if I never come back.”

The look of fear and sadness in Mapi’s eyes had Ingrid wishing she could give up her own knee if it meant Mapi didn’t have to go through this.

“Shh, shh, don’t talk like that min kjaere. You’re so strong, you’re going to get through this and come back even stronger. And if you don’t? Well, we’ll deal with that like we do everything, together.”

Ingrid pulled Mapi even further into her arms, trying to provide as much comfort as she could to the still shaking woman in her arms.

Mapi began to finally calm down. Everything was still a mess, but at least Ingrid was here with her to get her through this.

“Let’s get you to bed kjaere, we can cuddle until the food arrives.”

As Mapi settled into Ingrid’s arms she started to finally believe that everything would really be ok, because Ingrid was here and together they could face anything.

#woso #mapi leon #ingrid engen #mapi leon x ingrid engen #hurt/comfort #woso fanfics

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thelikesoffinn · 10 months

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hello - hope you're doing great! I love your analysis, and I wanted to ask about something I've been thinking fanfic wise but also applicable to real life (I think).

So Astarion gets paired a lot with Tavs who also have tragic past experiences (hard to be at his level of tragedy, but some get close). Which is all well and good, cause I see how writing these characters and reading about them is cathartic to many, but I also see plot-wise, it makes it "easier" for him to connect with Tav in a way, kindred souls and all that.

My Tav's background is one of someone who either had a fairly good and regular life, and, if trauma occured, it's been healthily overcome. So at the beginning of the BG3 story she's actually at the end of her own initial "character" arc.

Now my issue is, can Astarion connect with someone who has no idea at all of what he went through? My idea is that's he'd infantilize her, or openly antagonise her (in his charming way) because she's got no right to understand (especially with how he thinks it's fine to be racist and hurt the weak in the first act).

And she'd be understanding and wanting to help and all, but how can people with no/little traumatic experiences connect with those who went through hell, even with the best intentions? It's a dynamic I'd like to explore, because I've seen it played in real life a few times.

Sorry for the poem!

Hello, flower! Thank you so much, I'm glad that you enjoyed the analysis ❤️

As for your question: Eh, I do see why that dynamic is a rather difficult one. People who've survived through a lot of traumata tend to be somewhat hesitant and guarded in front of those who had normal lives at the best of times, and we all know that Astarion rarely has a "best of times", especially early in the game.

Infantilising them is something I definitely see with him. He's the type to do that with anyone anyway, but especially so with those he considers "sheltered". And sheltered is likely something he inevitably will consider Tav, as that is often the case with those who experienced trauma.

Trauma tends to age and harden you, in a way, so oftentimes people who simply grew up normally, with normal ups and downs, are viewed as "sheltered" or "spoiled" by those who didn't, even if that wasn't necessarily the case. That label isn't used or assigned maliciously, and it's simply based on the fact that other people's "normal" seems like the very best to someone who had it worse.

I can also see a huge amount of antagonism, yes, but how it shows will depend on when your story is set.

Is it while he's still dependent on Tav? Then I think he'd try to refrain from being more antagonistic towards them than necessary, since he needs to stay on their good side. So, he'd likely stick with his base-line arseholeishness, if a bit more intense at times. You know, in a sense that you side eye him and wonder if he just actually insulted you or if he's still joking around.

But if he's not dependent on them? Oh boy. Yeah, very likely that he'd be extremely mean and Tav would definitely 100% know that he means everything he says, even when it's uttered with a smile. Think how he talks to the Gur hunter in act 1 because let's be honest…that was far from subtle.

Astarion as a whole doesn't take kindly to anyone prodding his weak spots, albeit he mellows a bit towards Tav over the course of the story, and if would be even worse with "sheltered" Tav. He would likely flip his shit really hard and become extremely cruel with them, staying on their good side be damned because how dare they prod where they have no business being?

It's something I've seen at work before, and let me tell you: It's never a pretty sight. Many people who experienced trauma usually don't want to hurt others - quite the contrary, a lot of them would rather sacrifice themselves before watching anyone else get hurt like they were - but that doesn't mean they're not good at it. Precisely because they're often so hypervigilant, they have a talent in picking out your weak spots and if you test them enough, oh boy. They'll hit them with such aim and grace, you'll find yourself reeling. And that's the super sweet and kind clients, not the Astarions.

Here it's important to mention that the things people say in those situations are rarely what they really believe. It's mostly is just a well aimed assassination of your soft spots to get you to back off and leave them be.

So "sheltered" Tav will have to be extremely careful regarding any sore spots if they don't want to be hit by the full force of protective-malice.

Does that mean Astarion and your Tav won't be able to bond? Aabsolutely not, but it will be a tad bit difficult because he'll likely take a lot longer to open up and their bond will have to be built entirely from scratch. The shared understanding of their trauma can’t function as a temporary foundation – temporary because a bond entirely based on [shared] trauma will eventually become instable, if not fortified by other things – so they’ll have to put in a lot of work to even get to having a solid foundation to build on.

I'll give you a bit of a general rundown on how I was taught to tackle clients like that, maybe any of that will be helpful for you!

So, firstly: "Sheltered" Tav will need to be careful and understanding and they'll have to be able to take a blow and live with it if they accidentally step to close too early.

Important to note: They'll have to be able to take a blow but they can't be too lenient either.

Astarion seems like a person who's attached to 'respect'. Not in the 'respect your elders' way, but in the sense that he treats those he respects a lot better than those he doesn't. It's the nobility’s definition of respect - some "deserve" it and some don't and who is who is entirely based on personal understanding - so it's very in line with his background.

So, while your Tav will need to be able to take a hit, they'll need to know when to call him out on his bullshit. If you let Astarion walk all over you, he will eventually lose all respect and then this is a lost cause. Don't let him push you around.

If he's being too cruel, don't be cruel back, but definitely call him out on it and let him know that he can always ask you to stop prodding but you will not stand around and let him insult you.

Be understanding, but don't be a doormat.

Then, in order to get someone to open up, you'll have to have a lot of patience. Don't demand anything, don't force anything. Every question you ask has to be careful and phrased in a way that won't corner them, which can be really difficult in casual conversation. So, mishaps can and will likely happen, which is great material for a story anyway, so that's great! (Not so great at work though, haha.)

In case of "sheltered" Tav, it's probably best if they wait for him to come to them. Listen when he rants, listen to the tiny things he mentions and if you ask questions, make sure they directly relate to what he's told you just then.

So, if he talks about Cazador essentially making him choose between eating putrid rats or getting beaten, a question like: "Did he do that a lot?" or "Was it always those two options?" could potentially be alright because the red string is easily visible for both parties. Astarion can tell why you would ask something like that and he can follow your line of thought easily.

But a question like: "What else did he do to you?" or "Did he do other things as well?" would probably have his defences going up. It's too broad, too unspecific, and how is that any of your business anyway? What is this, an interrogation? An interview so that you can ghost write his sad memoirs? Back off.

While a question like: "How exactly did those dinners go?" or "Beaten? How?" is too specific. You're practically asking him to relive a painful moment in great detail for your own "enjoyment". Why else would you want to know? Why else would you ask how exactly he'd been hurt and humiliated, if not for that? Maybe you were planning to do the same to him. He won't let you. The past is the past. Let. It. Rest.

So, as you can tell, it's basically playing question-hot-foot!

But even if your Tav should cross the lines in that regard every once in a while - it happens, every question is a gamble - it'll eventually be fine. The closer they get, the easier it will be to ask questions, because he'll realise that he can actually trust them.

The one word I would really really avoid - and I cannot stress this enough - is 'understand'. God never use it. Tav, omit it from your vocabulary, you'll never "understand" anything ever again!

"I understand what you went though was horrible, but/and/however…" - No, you really do not. You can't understand, can't even imagine what he's faced over the years so never pretend that you do.

"I won't pretend to understand what you went through, but I want to/you can trust me/I can still listen." - Always said with kindness, but that one really is nothing but an empty platitude, at best. Hearing someone say that they don't understand you so directly is never really encouraging either.

"I just want to understand you." - Great, but you don't need to know the barest parts of a person's soul to be able to understand them. If you can't do it without that, maybe you shouldn't. And, all in all, this phrasing of the last one feels really iffy anyway, personally speaking, because it has a very manipulative edge to it. 'Hey I'm just overstepping your boundaries because I want to know you and understand you better. It's all for you..." and blegh. I hate that one, but that might be totally personal so please feel entirely free to ignore this paragraph.

Anyway, as you can see…never "understand", even if it’s just meant to encourage him. Just don't. I've seen clients who asked to be transferred to a different social worker or ended up leaving completely because someone used one of those lines, so I'd really strongly advise against them.

Instead, opt for things like "I'll listen to whatever you want to say." or "Can you explain it to me?" because that way you're not lying to his face and you're leaving everything up to him. He gets to decide where this conversation goes and, more importantly, how far it goes. Not an interview, not an interrogation, but a conversation that he controls.

And well then, flower, that’s it! Of course, there’s a lot more to it, but we’d still be here by the time Baldur’s Gate 8 is released if I went over every tiny thing, but I hope this was enough of an overview to help you build your story 😊 If you end up sharing it, don’t be shy to let me know, I’d be excited to check it out because, as you said, it’s a really interesting dynamic that isn’t explored as much as it should be. It’s a difficult dynamic, but it is so rewarding to write, read and experience. I wish you all the best ♥

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldur's gate #bg3 tav #tav #astarion x tav #baldurs gate tav #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion romance #bg3 astarion #bg3 asks #astarion x reader #ascended astarion

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jellyfishsthings · 7 months

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Warnings: this is going to be a multi part series and it's going to be angsty cause I am in my feels. Female reader, Padmé and Anakin were together but had a healthy break up, Jedi reader so forbidden love

This story takes plays in Clone Wars yet many events have been changed (like the meeting of Ashoka and Anakin... don't worry the sibling energy is still there.)

series masterlist

Months go by. And it feels like I am a standing force against the passing of time and the constant outbursts of the war. I watch from the sidelines as Ashoka becomes a prodigy in the care of Ani, even when she constantly challenges him and gets on his nerves. Soon the first joint mission comes and we are headed towards another planet that is destroyed by the war and its inhabitants are barely holding on to life. Slowly adding to the casualties more people and their home planets.

The first makeshift hospital we visit is full of haunted faces, open wounds and death. Families are gathered together around their lost members as grief surrounds them. A heavy tension clouds the air and it weighs down on you until it suffocates you because you are not able to even breathe from the intense emotion that is prominent in every possible way. Anakin heads towards the chief of the clan intending to have a "friendly" interrogation after he drew the shortest straw in the small fighter jet that carried us here.

And so Ashoka and I attend to the wounded, trying to match minor wounds the best we can and bring solace to those whose wounds are fatal and they won't make it probably until sunrise. We use the Force to ease their pain and let them enjoy their last moments with their families the best they can. Hours pass like this until my eyes fall on a small boy. He has dirty blond hair and his face is covered in dirt, the only place on his face that seems clean is the trail his tears have left behind as red-rimmed puffy eyes meet my gaze.

He looks scared to death. He looks like what small Ani looked like.

I stalk closer to him and sit next to his cot as I introduce myself to him. He stares at me intensely, his gaze is full of mistrust as he waits for my next move. I have long learned that patience is a virtue and it is much needed in situations like this.

"I'm Jack" he croaks out after a while since I seemed to have passed some kind of evaluation. I simply smile at him.

And ask him "What happened to you, Jack?"

"It's not pretty."

"I think I can handle that," I whisper to him as I try to maintain the facade of calmness on my face. He draws his blanket to the side revealing… a missing leg. My eyes slightly widen but I do not let myself show any other type of emotion. I inspected the wound and it seemed like someone knew that they needed to burn the infected and stitch the remaining flesh. And yet Jack won't make it, he may have three hours tops as the infection spreads fast and it will soon reach his heart.

"I will die, won't I? The doctors say that in a few hours, I will be fine but I know they are lying. Please tell me the truth."

"I'm sorry," I say as a tear slips out.

"Can you do me a favour? "

"Of course. Anything you want."

"Can I see the stars once more?"

I simply nod not being able to use my voice for fear of it breaking, the way my heart breaks into a million pieces for this small kid who never did anything wrong besides existing. My eyes scan the room. No one is paying attention to us. Yet I cloak us as I carry him outside in my arm, perching him to my hip as I head towards the tallest place I can find in a close distance. I sit down and place him in my lap, keeping him close, drawing the physical pain from him inflicting it on myself. And we watch the stars. They look different from the way they look back at the Temple but they are still as breathtaking.

I stay unmoving for as long he is with me, providing silent comfort until he takes his last rasping breath whispering "Thank you. Mama was right. Jedis are angels."

My head is spinning and I try to maintain my composure as I carry him back to the hospital, only this time I head towards the wing where the sadly departed inhabit. I place him as gently as possible down and cover him with a white sheet. I spin on my heels. I work and move on autopilot, as my feet carry me outside in the most private place I can find. Only then do I break apart, only then do I let my sadness consume me.

My breathing is ragged as silent sobs escape me. My shoulders shake quietly. At some point arms wrap around me, they are gentle despite their hard and strong nature. They hold me tight as they guide me. Our chests are now pressed together. The heels of my palms dig harshly into my eyes trying to stop the slipping tears. He just holds me tight and I have lost any sense of the passing time until I calm down. He rubs comforting circles on my back and waits until my breathing turns normal and syncs with his from the heavy sobs that escape me. He waits until my heartbeat syncs with his.

Once my head clears I find my face buried in a shoulder. A very comforting and sturdy shoulder and then the overwhelming scent of him consumes me. Anakin, of course, it's him. And so I just hug him even tighter, not letting go as his hand buries in my hair and slightly massages my scalp. And so we stay like that until we have to go back to the wounded, back to the reality of war. But for a second I let myself bask in his impossibly close presence. We stay quiet as I finally turn to face him and he smiles at me, the one that can make my insides flame and he kisses my forehead before resting his forehead against mine as he gazes into my eyes in, what some might describe, a loving way and rubs my cheeks with his thumbs soothing the ache in me.

“Sometimes I wish we could be like this forever. I wish for more.” He whispers to me.

“Ani don't say that.”

“You know it's true. We both want it of that I am certain.”

“It's forbidden. You know we can't.”

“I don't give a damn about the Code.”

My answer is cut off by an explosion. We quickly get to our feet trying to locate the source of the now raging fire. The only remaining place that could have been targeted would be…. No, it can't be. I will myself to run faster and I skip into a halt as I face a flaming hell. Screams sound as every person inside the medical camp becomes ashes.

Ashoka is still inside, is my only thought as I run into the flames trying to locate her. Anakin tries to grab my hand to stop me but he is too late and he chases after me yet to no avail as the entrance collapses in front of him. Caging him outside and the rest of us to our doom. He sits there panicking as one phrase loops in his mind. Please no, please.

After what must have seemed like an eternity we emerge, looking like hell ourselves, our faces are covered to ashes and our robes frizzle with burning flames. But to him, we must look like miracles as he races towards us and he helps us to a safe distance.

He does something that surprises the life out of his young Padawan. He lets his guard down for the first time as he hugs us and forces all of us to collapse to the ground.

“Don't do that ever again” he whispers “You scared me to death. I don't think I can do this without you.”

A new sense of balance engulfed us as we headed back to the Temple bearing the devastating news of no survivors.

words: 1.349

#anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fluff #star wars fanfiction

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