#they found their way back to each other in the end

[sooniebby]

First Drabble after a month or so… Anyway, reader is a bisexual man, deal with it. Kinks are: voyeurism, spanking, dubcon, cucking, manhandling, praise, lite feminization. Brief mention of m/f sex but reader is a bottom and is mentioned to have a cock. BDSM relationship. Tw. Girlfriend is a bit abusive so skip this if bad doms bother you 🫶🏼 no set character, but I gave him a name! A little long tbh, not even a Drabble anymore

The things you do to make your girlfriend.

“Ohhh! Gimme more, Mark.”

You roll your eyes, checking your phone as your girlfriend gets her pussy fucked by your “friend” Mark. They were too busy having the time of their life to notice you stopped paying attention to them.

Your girlfriend, Lizzy, just loved this whole cuck fantasy shit. Whatever made her happy. You tried many other times to tell you that you didn’t necessarily like it but she always somehow made you the bad guy.

It was your first relationship dealing with BDSM, she was more than likely right since she had loads of relationships before you.

Right? She wouldn’t use your naivety to her advantage… right?

Hah.

Anyway, she loved making you watch other guys fuck her. Especially if their dick was bigger than yours. Though you didn’t like her saying your four inches was small.

Some guys had two inches, you were perfectly fine.

She began moaning something about how big he was, you didn’t really care at this point. You didn’t even know if you liked this whole BDSM thing. Sure, being the submissive was cool at first but now it just felt… eh?

You certainly hated her way of being a sadist. You hated being a masochist. It wasn’t fun.

But, whatever makes her happy. She’s freaking Lizzy Powers, the hot girl from your university. Every guys falls for her.

There was particularly high pitched yelp that caused you to look up in concern but it seemed Mark had just manhandled her into another position. You huffed and just went back to watching TikTok thirst traps.

The few times you looked at them to pretend you actually cared, Mark seemed set at staring right at you. His thrusts would always get faster each time. Weirdo.

Mark was popular, just like Lizzy. Loved by many girls (and guys). He was supposedly good natured and kinda but you kinda found him creepy, especially right now.

Was there something on your face???

“Ooh, (Name)~!” Lizzy whined, “he’s so much better than you… Just look at how well he fucks my pussy.”

She looked over at you—you quickly forced a frown. She loved seeing you “upset” about the other guy fucking her. Something about getting you to try harder when you fucked her the next day.

It worked the first time, but after that, you stopped caring. You kinda stopped caring to fuck her as well. It wasn’t even that she was fucking all these other guys. Something just kept bothering you.

Maybe the fact she didn’t go on regular dates with you and there didn’t seem to be an end to the dominate actions she had.

A shrill voice filled the room, Lizzy was cumming. You used to always love seeing this part—just seeing your gorgeous girl coming undone.

Eh, you’ve seen it before. These days, you found yourself watching the guy fucking her instead of her. Which was bad, that was cheating, or at least that’s what Lizzy had told you.

So you made sure to not look at Mark as much. Mark pulled out and rolled off his condom, tossing it into the trash bin next to the bed. The loud sound of music was still ringing downstairs from the party.

You would’ve thought this dumb party would’ve been done by now. “Was that it?” You asked, standing up. “I have a test tomorrow so I need to get back to my dorm.”

There was a moment of silence as Lizzy and Mark stared at you. Mark simply nodded and moved to put his jacket and shoes back on. Lizzy however, looked furious. She stood up abruptly, putting on her dress and stormed over to you.

Oh no.

You knew that look. She was about to “discipline”you. Her punishments were so humiliating—you hated it so much. 

You fought back the urge to roll your eyes. Her anger radiated off her face. Though she only stood to your chest, she managed to make your heart drop. There was no fun in this. But isn’t this what these relationships involve?

This was just how it was.

Her harsh words began spilling out, probably promising a punishment once you reached your dorm. Or possibly even when Mark left. But knowing her, she’d get a kick out of him watching.

Maybe you should’ve gotten a different girlfriend. This one doesn’t exactly make you happy. The thought couldn’t go any further though when Mark cleared his throat, ending Lizzy’s tyranny with ease.

“Your submissive isn’t exactly listening to you. I don’t mean to pry,” though the smirk on his lips tells you otherwise. “He looks legitimately scared. No sense of pleasure in him.”

Lizzy scoffed. “And you can do better? He’s just new to this, but it seems to be taking forever for him to listen to me.” She said, harshly poking at your chest with her finger. You try not to show any emotion from the slight pain.

“I can. But that’s if you want your submissive to get a taste of what’s better.”

A pin could be dropped and it would’ve made more noise. You watch in awe as Lizzy practically turned pink in the face. Wow, you’d never seen her this anger. There was silent rage in her eyes before she pulled a quick smile.

“Sure. He’s all yours.”

But Mark looked over at you. He stood up and took off his jacket, walking over to you with a look of determination. “Do you want it?”

“W..wha..?” You whispered, feeling dwarfed against his tall height. Jesus, does he play volleyball or basketball??

“Do you…” his hand slowly reached up, gently grabbing your chin before forcing you to look up at him. Oh. “…want me to touch you? Show you real pleasure.”

“….yes…”

His lips pulled into a slight smirk. “Good boy.”

So here you are, pants less. Mark was kinda enough to let you keep your sweater on. Lizzy was sitting at the desk chair you once were. You felt bad for whoever’s frat brother’s room you guys were in. Poor guy.

“Do you know why you’re being punished?” Mark suddenly said, sitting on the bed as he patted his lap.

You huffed and moved over to where he was. “Attitude probably.” You muttered, looking down at the bed sheets. Ooh, sport cars.

A tug at your sweater caused you to yelp as you were forced to look Mark in the eye. “Look me in the eye when you’re speaking to me.” With little force, he pulled you to drape over his thighs. They were quite muscular. Hm, maybe soccer?

You could feel Lizzy’s harsh glare on your body. It was just reminding you that she was so pissed over you having a slight attitude. Gosh, we doms all like this? You were seriously considering if you wanted to stay in this type of relationship.

Mark’s hand gently gripped your butt, softly massaging it. “I don’t think you deserve a punishment, but I’m going off what your dom wants. This can be really easy, (Name). Just count, okay? I’ll only go to ten.”

“Just ten?” Lizzy cut in.

“Ten is enough. He didn’t do anything terrible.” Mark countered. “Was I even speaking to you?”

You didn’t want to know the look Lizzy gave him. His hand gripped your ass before he released it, gently tapping it.

“(Name), what’s your safe word?”

You blinked, “what’s that?”

There was a tense silence. You tried to look up but Mark quickly pushed your head back down.

“Just whenever you want to stop. In case it’s too much.”

“Oh uhm. Stop should work fine, no?”

“Alright. You can always say red as well. Yellow would be if you just want a breather, okay?”

“Oh… would green be for keep going?”

Mark hummed, gently massaging your butt. “Mhm. Aren’t you smart?”

You blushed slightly. Oh, that was nice. When was the last time Lizzy complimented you?

“Starting now.”

You prepared for the worst. Whenever Lizzy spanked you, it was torture. Just hit after hit with no room to breathe. Didn’t help she would use those whips. It took you awhile to convince her to just use her hand.

Sometimes the damn thing would just start hitting your thighs or back. It was like she was purposefully missing your ass.

Smack!

Oh. What were you supposed to do? You could’ve sworn you were supposed to say something. That felt so weird, but you felt your toes practically curl as a gasp left your lips. He must’ve had experience doing this…

He gently rubbed the slight curve of your hip. “C’mon, count for me.”

Oh right. Counting…

“O..One.”

It went on, each time you momentarily went blank in the head. This wasn’t anything like Lizzy’s spankings. Mark was spanking you hard, definitely, but there still was a slight softness to it.

Hmm, you could probably revisit spanking.

“Ten…” You muttered, sighing in slight relief that it was over. You gently got up from Mark’s lap, ready to pull your pants back up but he pulled your back down.

“What are you doing?” He asked, rubbing your sore cheeks. You heard the sound of a container being opened before a cooling substance was rubbing onto your skin. It was pure relief. A relaxed hum left your throat.

Lizzy coughed, breaking the moment. You almost forgot she was there. “Are you done with my boyfriend?”

“Hm, no. His moans were cute, I want to hear how he sounds cumming on my cock.” He said bluntly, causing you to blush in pure embarrassment. His cock?! He was going to fuck you?!

Lizzy sputtered as she stood up. “What?! That’ll be cheating!”

“It’s just cucking. A man can cuck a woman.”

“But—”

“—It’s only fair (Name) can cuck you too.”

It was wrong. But his words made you grin. Cucking her back? Oh that sounded fun. Finally, she could feel how you felt.

“Okay.” You suddenly said, removing yourself off Mark’s lap. “You can fuck me.” You weren’t scared about anything going into your butt. Lizzy has fucked you with a strap before, those were the few times you had the most fun during sex with her.

Shame she never wanted to do after the two times.

You grabbed the lube that was left on the nightstand from Lizzy and Mark’s previous fuck and drizzled a decent amount onto your fingers. Sitting down on the bed, you began to stretch your ass open.

It was pretty easy, you did masturbate this morning with a dildo. The entire time, Mark just stared at you with hunger, his eyes watching your hole swallow your fingers with ease. He was probably expecting some type of resistance.

“I’m ready.” You muttered, moving to get into a doggy position but Mark grabbed your hand. A shriek left you as he picked you up with ease and plopped you down into his lap.

This position… was embarrassing to say the least. Your legs were wide open, your cock hard against your tummy. Lizzy was literally right across from you, seeing everything. You squirmed, wondering why Mark was so set in humiliating you.

His lips suddenly pressed against your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder. The sound of his zipper and slight shuffling filled your ears as his cock slipped out. Holy shit. He was definitely huge… maybe 7 inches??

“I want…” his hand reached up and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look Lizzy straight in the eye. “Miss Powers here to see you cum on my cock, seeing you become my pretty little slut.”

Your cock twitched. His cock pressed against your ass, gently teasing your hole. Slowly, he lowered you down, letting the stretch become comfortable.

He was definitely huge. You didn’t understand how Lizzy took this thing without crying out in pain? Once he was fully in, you let out a shaky breath, gripping his hand that held your hip.

“Good boy. You’re taking me well.” He whispered, pressing a kiss on your neck. “Now move.���

“What?”

“Ride me.” Mark simply said, gently patting your thighs.

Holy fucking shit. You were supposed to ride this guy while your girlfriend watches? Jesus. You moved slightly, gripping his thighs as a way to hold yourself help as you began bouncing up and down.

The sounds of skin slapping filled the room, your soft moans right behind it. This was better than any strap. You could feel him inside you—his heat. A shudder left you when his cock pressed against your prostate. You quickly tried to keep that position, gasping at the constant pressure.

You practically forgot Lizzy was even there. All you cared about was getting off.

No, all you cared about was making sure Mark was enjoying it.

That was a first.

You glanced down, wanting to see if Mark was enjoying himself. The sight caused your hips to stutter. He was staring right at you, a smirk on his face. His free hand was gripping at your ass, pulling the cheeks apart slightly.

He broke eye contact to look down at your hole, laughing slightly. “It’s so cute. Hey, I’m your first real one huh?”

“Y..Yeah..”

“Good. I’ll be your only too.” He said, delivering a harsh spank on your ass. A scream escaped your lips as you stopped for a moment, trying to process everything that was happening.

First and only? What?!

“Hey, why’d you stop?” His hands suddenly had your waist in its grasp as he pulled you back. You were once again looking at Lizzy, seeing her pure anger. Gosh, you were really betraying your girlfriend.

“Why are you treating him so gently?” Lizzy suddenly commented.

Mark hummed. “It’s his first time. You always gotta treat beginners like glass. Once he’s properly trained… I’ll fuck him like the whore he is.”

“Whore..?” You muttered, but before you could ask why he kept calling you stuff like that, he was suddenly making you bounce up and down on his cock. It was so sudden, so fast and made your previous movement seem like nothing.

If this is him treating you like glass, you wondered just how mean he got…

Your back arched as you cried out, resting your head on his back as the pleasure began to take over. It was so much. But you wanted more. You just knew he could do more.

You wanted it so bad.

You were too lost in the pleasure to even notice that Lizzy left until the sound of a door slamming caught your attention. “Hng…? Why’d she..?”

“Fucking finally.” Mark muttered, pulling you off his cock. You whimpered, feeling your cock leak dejectedly with pre-cum. He plopped you down on the bed and pushed your legs up, putting you in a mating press.

His cock easily slid back inside as he leaned down, grinning. “Now that she’s out of the way, I have you all to myself.” He whispered, his hips moving upwards in harsh staccato type motion. Each slap caused a struggled gasp to leave you in tandem.

“Been hearing all about how you were just her little cuck. Using you because you knew nothing about how these type of relationships work..” he mumbled, a groan leaving his lips when you clenched around his cock.

You couldn’t even care about what he was talking about. You just wanted to cum already. This position was so odd, you didn’t even know your body could fold this far.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, baby. I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself as mine.”

“Y..yours..? What..? Ngh, did you..”

“Fuck her to get to you?” He laughed, leaning down to kiss your lips. You blushed, shocked that the kiss was so sweet compared to the sinful thrusting. “Yeah, anything for you.”

Anything for you…? You didn’t get to truly understand just how deranged that sounded when he began to roughly fuck you. He managed to push your legs even further as he draped himself over your body, ravaging you like a cheap slut.

Your screams and his grunts mixed together as you gripped at the sheets beneath you for type of stability. If that stupid loud music from downstairs wasn’t still playing you were sure everyone would be able to tell you were getting your stomach rearranged.

“(Name)…”

You let out a strangled hum.

“Your pussy is tighter than hers.”

Yaaaay… first post back! Feel really proud of this one, though I didn’t mean to make it longer than a usual Drabble, felt like I had to add a lot of stuff before the porn… lmao.

@the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life25 @chill-guy-but-cooler @kiiyoooo @iwishtobeacrow @star-3214 @smellwell @ofclyde @flurrina @tehyunnie @remdayz @love-kha1 @mooncarvers-world @rhetorical-conscience @tomoeroi

[maxsimagination]

would you write more for kim little please? maybe her dating someone younger on the team and the rest of the girls find out? <3

𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮 - 𝙠.𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚

warnings: none, just an age gap

-------

“kimmyyyy, no i wanna sleep in. pleaseeee.”

i groaned as kim pulled the curtains to our shared apartment. i wanted to enjoy the last moments with her until we had to go to training and pretend we weren’t dating.

it wasn’t because we didn’t think they’d accept us, it was more because kim was 33 and i was only 22.

the team might not think that was bad, but if they knew then it was only a matter of time before the media knew, and it would blow up indefinitely once they knew. we just weren’t willing to risk it right now.

i ended up being dragged out of bed by kim, the scot managing to haul me to the bathroom. i was half asleep but went through my morning routine like clockwork.

we rocked up at the training fields within the next hour, but kim walked in first. we drove there in the same car but walked in separately so people didn’t suspect anything.

“yn!”

“leah!”

i greeted the blonde when i walked in, levelling her excitement with my own. she jumped onto me in a hug, before slipping back onto the floor.

we walked into the dining hall where the rest of the team and staff were, picking up our designated plates and electing to sit at katie’s table. which also happened to have kim at it.

i, obviously, chose to sit next to kim but thankfully no one picked up on that.

we were allocated an hour to eat breakfast before everyone had to actually start working for the day. all the players filed out to the changing rooms where we changed into our boots, and i slipped my hoodie off while i had the chance.

i caught kim’s gaze as i jogged out to meet leah, throwing a cheeky grin at her expression.

leah was up with katie and cait, talking about god knows what. i joined in, but then jonas cut everyone’s conversations short with his yell for attention.

“girls! let’s get started please. we’re doing a jogging warmup lap, then weights.

find a partner once you’ve finished the lap, use each other for spotting. we don’t need any injuries.”

there was collective murmurs of agreement, and we started jogging around the field. i naturally found myself jogging next to kim, as if a magnet pulled us together.

“gym partners?”

i questioned, she nodded.

we made our way to the weights section of the gym arsenal had.

“we are so doing legs first.”

i all but dragged kim over to the leg press to kickstart our session. kim did not want to do legs, she was into training arms, which was very visible from the bicep muscles that she sported.

one of the many things i drooled over.

i had shoved at least 250lbs onto the leg press machine and watched as kim’s eyes bulge at the amount of plates.

“you’re telling me you can safely lift that?”

“nope. but i’m gonna.”

i ended up doing two reps of fifteen, before upping the weight to 300lbs. kim may have had an aneurysm at the amount of weight i was pushing, and making it look like it was nothing. but she still stood behind me, watching, spotting, and dancing her fingertips over my shoulder blades.

it gave me tingles, and was slightly ticklish. what we didn’t know was that leah was looking from across the room, and she knew that something was up.

when the gym session was over and we started actual drills, leah was quick to pin me as her partner for anything. i thought it was weird but didn’t question it.

when we had a break leah took my hand and walked past kim, beckoning her to follow us. leah walked us away from the groups of girls, so we were out of earshot.

“there’s something going on between you two. spill.”

both of us were quick to sputter out some form of excuse.

“no, what do you mean.”

“don’t know what you’re talking about, lee.”

leah gave us both one of her stares.

“cut the crap. i see the way you look at each other, the little touches. not to mention you both come into practice witching minutes of each other, every morning.”

i exchanged a look with kim, there was no point in hiding this from leah. she was like the fbi, she knew everything.

“okay. we’re dating. we have been for a year.”

something settled in leah’s expression, now she knew what was going on.

“i knew it.

kimmy, going for the young ones are we?”

leah poked at kim’s side, grinning at the skipper. there was an eleven year gap between us, hence why we had kept it secret for a while.

“shut it, lee. do we need to tell the whole team?”

“it would make things easier. for you that is. but only if you want.”

i look over at kim. she looks over at me. i shrug, i never had a problem with telling everyone, kim was the logic one who knew the ins and outs of the media.

“fuck it why not. they’ll figure out eventually.”

“we don’t have to say anything, we can just walk out there and start acting like a couple. see how long it takes them.”

i throw out the idea with a grin. why not have a little fun with it.

we end up agreeing on my idea. training still had a couple of hours left and jonas gave us a few more drills to do, so me and kim forgot all about keeping the secret and just had fun training with each other for once.

surprisingly, none of the girls, not even the staff, said anything. not even kyra or alessia, of all people.

you’d think that the two most gossipy youngsters on the team would say something. but by the end of training, no one was any wiser. so leah told them all.

kyra let out a very loud, ‘oh my god!’ which caught the attention of alessia, who told lotte, so on and so on. soon the whole team knew and it was like a weight was lifted off our shoulders.

“kimmy, i didn’t know you were into the young ones.”

katie’s irish accent was unmistakable as she caught up with us to poke fun at the skipper. cait walked alongside me, she didn’t tease neither me nor kim, simply said she was happy for us.

you could tell she was true with her words, she was in a very similar situation, when her and katie first got together.

“a proper cougar then, our skipper.”

lotte and alessia laughed as they walked past.

it was funny, all the jokes they threw around, but most of all i was happy that they accepted us.

[tatterings]

Art by @solmesia - Go give him love!

Caressed by Claws - A BG3BigBang fic

AO3 LINK HERE

Pairing: Astarion/Halsin

Rating: Explicit (Lots of smut & a little plot)

Tags/warnings: 18+, monsterfucking, werebear halsin, trans astarion, Halsin eats pussy like a man dying of thirst in a desert, creampies, breeding kink, knotting

Word count: 9,966

Also fic pasted below :3c

Silvanus never spoke to Halsin in an audible way. Not like how he would converse with his mate Astarion, or even swap stories with the wildlife of Faerun. Despite this, the Oak Father found other ways to pass his intentions, blessings, and commandments onto the druid - through dreams, urges, and signs. And during his three centuries of life, Halsin had experienced the calling of his god many times.

Halsin had been experiencing all three phenomena as of late, while helping Baldur's Gate recover after the intense battle with the Netherbrain. His dreams and instincts were vivid and raw, the signs from Silvanus appearing during his daily work; he'd volunteered to help rebuild the city's parks. He included the requirement that they would be expanded, with a special area reserved for children to be able to romp and play, allowing city-goers a larger green space in which to commune with nature. While the parks, with their sapling trees and spindly wildflowers blooming in the wind, was no vast wood like he was used to, it was better than nothing. Especially for a battle-ravaged town that was actively being rebuilt. 

Though the work was tiresome, fully exhausting his spell power and even his physical bulk and muscle each day, the druid could not find inner peace. He was restless, aching with the impulse to roam, to explore. An urge so deep and carnal that Halsin understood it had to be yet another sign from the Oak Father… but stronger. A sign of which he had no choice but to take heed. He decided to take a break from his rebuilding duties, with Astarion supportive and encouraging him to do whatever "dancing-with-bears-rituals” that he needed to do.

With his lover's blessing, Halsin set out and began to roam the craggy wilderness surrounding Baldur's Gate. It took weeks for him to feel another sign, as the days passed and the moon went from waning, to new, to waxing. It was an internal sign, a heat from within that could only mean that his bear side - animalistic, raw, hungry , was growing stronger. It had become easier for him to call upon it, to have his fingernails elongate and his hair run down his back, turning into a pelt as he fell on all fours to shift into wildshape. He found himself wandering for days on end in bear form, rather than elven form, feeling more at home and "in his own skin" when digging his claws into the wet clay of the earth, or using his nimble lips to pluck ripe berries from the bushes. He spoke to Silvanus mentally and spiritually, even in this form, pleading for some answer to the unsettling feeling he'd wrestled with since they'd defeated the Netherbrain.

In his day-to-day life, pre-Netherbrain, pre-adventuring, pre-self-imposed spiritual exile, Halsin had always battled with his bear side for control. Whether in fits of rage, or in the heat of passion, he felt the throbbing of his head (or other regions) announcing the presence of the Bear deep within him, clawing to be free. Astarion had been most gracious whenever he had lost control of his ursine side, including on their first sexual encounter. The vampire had also giggled heartily when Halsin ripped apart foes in battle after the bloodshed necessitated his wildshape. And yet, Halsin still felt a sense of shame when his control was weak and his inner bear called hungrily to him.

On the first full moon out of Baldur's Gate, Halsin felt the calling even more deeply. The urge to shift into bear form, to slip into the comfort of fur and claws and teeth, was as tempting to him as a tall glass of cold honey mead, as comforting as the warmth of the bedcovers he shared with Astarion. But Halsin felt he had to resist. And to resist, he had to focus intensely on the present, the now, and on his current state. He realized that needed to listen to the bear; not to succumb blindly to it.

He settled in the middle of a clearing of birch trees, lowering himself to the damp moss that cushioned his large frame. The druid crossed his legs, laying his palms facing upwards on his knees. He closed his eyes, and listened. A mild wind, just enough to stir the leaves and brambles within the clearing, passed through the wood. The rustle of squirrels died down, as though they paused their hopping through the underbrush and barking amongst the treetops.

Before him in the blackness of his own eyelids he saw flashes of spirits, the sparkle of magic. He wanted to see, to open his eyes and behold the motes of light firsthand, but could not let himself disconnect now, from this place of intense focus. He felt himself float upward, almost as though he were sitting in a tree high above. But it was not his body that floated, merely his consciousness - he thought, assuming it was some form of astral projection. Meditation, and crossing into a spiritual realm, was a finicky magic at best. Though he was blessed by Silvanus and able to do so relatively at will, the planes of existence were still difficult to traverse, even to the former Arch Druid. He couldn't recall any time during the past 300 years in which he had experienced a similar sensation, of incorporealness, of his physical form feeling foreign and "separate".

Although the transcendent out of body experience was new to Halsin, spiritual beings and energies were quite familiar, and the air crackled around the clearing with the energy bestowed upon them by the full moon and the elf's druidic power. Below, he saw the sparkles of energy materialize from the shadows, and lumber over to his corporeal form. If his spirit-self could breathe, his lungs would have stopped inhaling and exhaling. The energy, now in the form of a gigantic bear, much larger than his normal wild shape, sniffed about his body below. His body still sat cross-legged, deep in the meditative state. Even in his projected form, though, the druid could sense the raw energy materializing within the clearing, emanating from the bear as it padded slowly in a circle

You have kept me from fully awakening, druid, the bear said, its energy crackling as its thoughts manifest in Halsin's mind. Halsin wasn't sure whether it was telepathy or just through just a feeling , but he understood the intent of the bear, as it padded in a path around him. It wasn't an uncomfortable feeling - it rather felt quite like when he would mumble to himself whenever he assessed patients, or when he had read aloud from dusty tomes in the Emerald Grove's library. It almost felt as though he was talking to himself when speaking with this bear. Halsin saw his body's eyelids twitch, his head nod slightly, and heard, despite his body's lips not moving, his response. 

"I have. It has always been difficult to control the beast within." He had embarrassingly morphed into a bear on more than one occasion with Astarion. Vivid memories flashed in his mind: as the heat of their passion settled into his loins, he had lowered himself on all fours above the vampire only to find that his hands on either side of his lithe frame had turned to paws. Astarion had always taken it in stride, in good-natured teasing at the most. He took it as a compliment that Halsin could hardly control himself during their lovemaking. However, it was not something upon which the druid enjoyed dwelling. He saw this loss of control as a weakness in him.His rumination was interrupted by the echoing of the bear's words in his mind, reverberating between his ears like the dripping of water hitting the bottom of a cavern.

But why control what has been gifted to you by the Oak Father? There is balance in the loss of control, as well. To always remain in control is not a natural state. Do you believe that nature is something that can be directed and commanded at anyone's whim? Even one blessed by Silvanus?

"That may be so, wise one," Halsin readily admitted. Astarion had often taken over in their lovemaking, directing Halsin's movements, his touches, sometimes even his breaths. Halsin felt goosebumps rise on his skin at the thought. What relief it always was to him, when he did not have to control himself, and he could relax and follow the directions of his lover. But again, that was a form of control, to be subject to the whims of the little vampire. "However, it is a risk to those I care for and to others if I do not reign in the…animalistic tendencies," he finished.

There was a long silence as the energy seemed to die down, although the ursine form below was still present. It had stopped in front of Halsin’s body, and shifted its weight from paw to paw, its magical breath exhaled in what seemed like puffs of fog. The fog settled around his cross-legged body below, wafting over the soft moss surrounding him.

Perhaps then, a bargain? The spirit bear asked. Its hulking frame was imposing even though it was immaterial. Were it a physical being, despite that he regularly spoke with animals including the wildest of bears, Halsin was positive he could not have remained so calm. You are quite dear to the Oak Father, a true steward of nature. It behooves you to fully accept the gift of wild shape.

Halsin did not respond; or, he realized, could not respond, for he felt somewhat dizzy at the idea of being held so dear by the Oak Father. He merely waited, both in his meditative, projected form, and his large body below, bathed in the light of the full moon. With how bright the moon shone upon him, he seemed almost as pale as the bear. He could not find a reason to disagree with the spirit; any gift Silvanus could bestow upon him should be graciously and fully received. And yet… he was filled with trepidation. He had made a fool and a beast of himself enough times in the past purely by accident. But to embrace that possibility?

I can give you respite for most days . In exchange that once a month, you free me - fully - without holding back.

Halsin's mind raced with the implications, and he sat in silence for many minutes, but the bear was in no hurry. It merely paced slowly around his body, facing towards him the entire time. It said nothing - just watched. And waited.

"The full moon?" Halsin felt himself ask, though no words crossed his lips. He saw his body below him shift only slightly, as though squirming with discomfort. The full moon was predictable, at least, so he knew when the bear would come "without holding back", whatever that meant. But what would happen when it did? His mulling was interrupted by the spirit's response.

Indeed, for the veil between realms is thinnest at the moon's peak. The moon affects the tides of Faerun, the minds of the unwell and magic-sensitive, and also the energy and magic of your bond with me. Once per month, you will become truly one with the Bear.

It was a heartbeat. It was a decade. Halsin could not tell, could not know, how much time had passed. For the bear had stopped moving again, and simply faced his body, sitting on its gigantic haunches. Halsin's meditative astral form did not move on its own. Rather, it felt itself pulled towards his body, almost as if he were made of magnetic material and his body were true north.

Halsin did not need to speak his acceptance verbally to agree to the deal. He would acquiesce to this compromise with the Bear. With himself. With Silvanus. It only took the thought of his acceptance to mark his agreement.

The bear, sparkling with spiritual energy as though it were a ghost, bared its teeth in what could only be interpreted as satisfaction. It lowered its head, stepping forward, and seemed to melt within Halsin's body like snowflakes on skin. As it melded into him, within him, Halsin shifted from his cross-legged position to all fours, as if by instinct. The soft moss cushioned his fingertips. Then soon, his claws.

In a mere moment he had changed, much more quickly than his normal wild shape transformation. And he was large, much larger than his normal cave bear form, which would seem a mere yearling cub to his bulk now. Halsin sniffed the air, the ground, his wet nose wrinkling as he picked up so many alluring scents, trails to follow, to hunt . To mark his territory, his territory, no one else's, no bear nor elf or creature. The full moon above bathed his gigantic, furry body in silvery light until he disappeared into the strand of birches and his presence was only a low growl rumbling from the shadows.

Astarion had been impatiently awaiting Halsin’s return, hungry for his partner both proverbially and literally. Halsin was willing to provide his daily meals; and just as eager to sate his desire for intimacy. The vampire had not gone hungry with his mate away, having fed on beasts from the bush surrounding the camp. But he missed his beast, how the warmth from Halsin's body heat, always turning their bedroll into a furnace. How he could make even their temporary camp feel like a home. After a few weeks, even the bedroll and its furs had begun to lose Halsin's scent of honey and basil.

Halsin had decided to return to him in the evening, when he knew that Astarion would be awake and probably fussing over his mending, or hunched over some dusty tome. Astarion was indeed thumbing absentmindedly through a novel in front of the campfire, nestled on top of a cushion he had dragged from his tent. Halsin's arrival was announced by his soft footfalls, shuffling across the cobblestone path surrounding their camp. Astarion's sensitive hearing could pick up that walking pattern anywhere, and the vampire automatically rose to his feet. The book fell from his hands and dropped to the ground, an act that would normally have Astarion wincing in horror and uttering an oath. But the importance of not wrinkling pages or smearing ink paled in comparison to the importance of seeing his Halsin.

"My heart," Halsin said, his voice low and heavy with affection. He stepped forward to receive his lover right as Astarion leapt into his embrace. The vampire wrapped his slender arms around Halsin's neck, burying his face into the druid's chest. "I missed you too, Astarion," Halsin continued, inhaling deeply into the pale elf's silver curls. Bergamot and rosemary, a tinge of aged brandy. A mixture of aromas that brought deep comfort to Halsin any time he caught a whiff.

Astarion pulled away from Halsin's chest, but remained solidly in the druid's embrace. He stood on tiptoes and craned his neck to meet Halsin's soft hazel gaze. "Next time you need to find yourself darling, do try to do so faster ," Astarion said, his words bouncing with playfulness and half-serious whining. His lips were full and pushed into a pout. Halsin couldn't resist the urge to take them into his own, and kissed Astarion softly. Slowly. Their lips barely brushing together, and just a tentative flick of the druid's tongue on Astarion's bottom lip.

Surprise caused Astarion to pull from the kiss first. He had anticipated that Halsin would devour him the moment they reunited, and had satisfied himself many of the nights alone while daydreaming of the various ways in which Halsin would take him. So for the druid to meet his lips with such… caution, tenderness… rather than his typically ravenous hunger was disconcerting.

"My love, whatever is the matter?" the vampire asked, swaying slightly side to side, causing the larger elf to shift in place as well. Halsin gazed down at him, his eyes flashing golden - from the fire, Astarion concluded. "Surely you're pleased to be back with m-" His words were crushed from his lungs as Halsin pulled him nearly off his feet, into a crushing embrace.

 "Of course my heart, your presence soothes and relieves me. I am immeasurably pleased to be back," Halsin said, kissing the top of Astarion's head before releasing the vampire to hold him at arm's length and gaze at him. "It has just been a… trying time. A test that rivals any of my experiences - save for the banishing of the shadow curse." His voice betrayed his weariness, his volume trailing off toward the end of his sentence.

Astarion frowned, clicking his tongue in a series of tsks , and raised his hand to cradle Halsin's cheek. "My poor sweet bear…," he said, holding his hand still as Halsin nuzzled into it. "As much as I'd love to hear all the juicy details, I suppose I can wait to hear about how well you danced with those bears."

Halsin's chuckle shook his shoulders. He deeply appreciated his partner’s dry humor.  "I appreciate that, Astarion," he said, pressing another kiss to the vampire's lips. This kiss was more certain, more intentional. "Let us make up for some lost time, hm?" the druid asked with a wicked grin, nodding his head toward their tent.

The next few weeks passed uneventfully, mostly full of lazy days enjoying each others' company, reading, and hunting together (and hunting each other) in the evenings. They'd done enough work defeating the Netherbrain, and prior to Halsin's stint in the wilderness, helping rebuild the city overall. So, Astarion had insisted it was time that others do some work for the good of the city. Halsin could only chuckle at his lover's insistence that do-gooding was nauseating.

Eventually, languidly lounging about the camp become a bore, and though he enjoyed the bounty of nature and camping quite thoroughly, Halsin felt the need to again move . To roam. In his restlessness, he had found himself willingly accompanying Astarion for an evening foray from their camp into the markets of Baldur's Gate. They would also be staying in more chic settings than their campsite, for the evening. Astarion had been complaining of sleeping in their tents when the Elfsong was now right there , newly renovated after the mindflayer attack, and now with private rooms.

He had agreed to join his mate to satisfy both Astarion's need for a good day's sleep, and his own desire to roam. His own need was more intense now than ever before, as the moon had waned, then disappeared altogether, then began waxing again closer and closer to being full. The instinct pulled at him, the need to explore, to… claim a territory?

Halsin shook his head, brushing away the thoughts just as he brushed away the sensations of the flies, the mingling crowds, and the noise of the markets within the city. He often found himself overwhelmed by the bustle of crowds, the shouts of vendors and the smells of the unwashed masses, manure, and other various scents. Not to mention, the wanton crime and seemingly endless homelessness and squalor. It was enough to unnerve him on any given day. But on this foray, Halsin felt a particular distaste for the less savory aspects of the city, and acted almost without thought to “correct” unsavory situations.

On their way in, Halsin scruffed a man who had attempted to lift some coin from a blind beggar’s donation cup, throwing the man against a wall as if he were a ragdoll. Astarion giggled with glee, clapping at Halsin's uncharacteristic brutality. Halsin stared at his hands before raising his gaze to the bloodied nose of the failed thief. After the would-be bandit recovered from the shock, he had scampered off into an alley. Halsin felt something within him aching to chase the man, and he fought, not without difficulty, to stand firmly in place instead of following him.

"Well done, darling," Astarion cheered, always up for a bit of chaos, whether or not in the name of being a do-gooder. He reached around to grab a handful of Halsin's muscled rump over his trousers. Halsin had hardly noticed; he was too lost in his thoughts.

He would, of course, have remedied the situation regardless, either by holding the thief for the proper authorities, or scaring him senseless as a wild beast. His unthinking, instinctual urge to thrash unsettled the druid, who had spent countless years wresting control of his temper, of his wildshape, of the desire to stay in bear form more often than in his true elven form. He nearly ran into several other market goers as he mulled over his outburst while navigating the market. He was mostly still lost in his thoughts when Astarion meandered up to a booth.

He watched from afar as Astarion bartered with a vendor of perfumes and bejeweled bottles of essential oils. One of the things he enjoyed most about his vampire is that he smelled so, so good. Trips to the perfumer or alchemist were not uncommon for Astarion, and Halsin hadn't thought twice about the relationships he had been building within the city as vendors returned slowly once their storefronts were rebuilt. His ever-talkative and ebullient vampire was chatting with the vendor as he reached out for a particular bottle on the table.

Halsin felt his eyes narrow and the fine baby hairs on the back of his neck raise as the vendor ran his hand on top of Astarion's fingers, lingering there a beat too long. Before Halsin realized it, he felt pulled, like the ocean being pulled by the forces of Faerun's moon, towards the booth, his top lip curled in a snarl. His bulk cast a shadow over the perfumer's table, then his face.

"That's enough ," he barked at the vendor, who withdrew his hand quickly, eyes wide at the hulking bear of a man, whose eyes glinted an odd gold. Both the vendor’s hands raised upward in a gesture of surrender, and he backed several steps away from his table, eyeing Halsin all the while. Astarion took advantage of the distraction, slipping the bergamot essential oil into his pocket. 

"My apologies, darling," he purred at the vendor, before wrapping a delicate arm around Halsin's bicep. "Come now, dear Halsin," he said, steering the large man away from the booth. "This is the second time today that you've thrown a tantrum," the vampire purred under his breath as they ambled back towards the Elfsong, Astarion's pockets heavier with the same amount of gold he had set off with, but several vials of oils that were new. "Not that I mind your recent spree in enacting violence or threats thereof, to be clear. But is something wrong?"

Halsin did not need Astarion’s words to know that the vampire didn’t mind the violence. From the moment he'd stormed to the booth, the large druid had been able to smell Astarion's arousal. Halsin did not answer immediately, acknowledging the question with only a growl from the back of his throat. He was distracted by the dampness that had to be staining Astarin's panties. Halsin's hand quivered as it pulled the little elf closer, settling on his lower back, Halsin's fingertips pressing into his flesh after slipping under the vampire's linen shirt.

His scent maddened Halsin. He pulled at the front of his trousers absentmindedly, trying to hide his own growing erection. He normally had more self-control than this - to be brought to half-hardness in the middle of public was unheard of. A shameful loss of control. He felt his face and ears flush, adding a tinge of red to his suntanned skin.

"I… do not know what has come over me," Halsin muttered, running his hand through his auburn locks. A lie. He did know… or the deeper, instinctual, beastial part of him did anyway. Halsin's knowing was not based off his centuries of life, and the subsequent knowledge he had of the movements of the celestial bodies around Faerun. Halsin knew the full moon was approaching, even deep in his unconscious mind, the deep, feral part of him that made the druid restless amongst the camp.

"I simply… can't abide the thought of anyone else touching you," he admitted after several additional minutes of quiet, when they finally had made it to the private room in the Elfsong they had rented for the evening. Astarion had been eyeing him up and down the whole time, his hand lazily dragging up and down Halsin's well-muscled forearm as they strolled side by side. Their room was on the bottom floor, conveniently close to the bar, but far enough down several twists of a hallway that nothing could be heard - and no one could hear them.

The solid oak door, salvaged from the original Elfsong after the Netherbrain attack, creaked as it was opened, revealing their far-more-superior-than-a-bedroll amenities for the evening. Heavy curtains hung on either side of several windows. Gauzy sheer curtains hung between them, allowing only the flicker of the city streetlamps to seep through. A settee, table, and a couple of chairs were arranged on one side of the room, and on the other side was a large four-poster bed, draped with burgundy velveteen bed linens and piled with pillows.

"Could it be something to do with the whole…" Astarion said as he turned to lock the door, then sauntered over to perch himself on the edge of the bed, "you know. Bear thing ?" The vampire accentuated his question with a wave of his delicate wrists, then mimed claws by curling his thin fingers.

Halsin raised his gaze to Astarion's ruby eyes. Gods, he was beautiful. Stunning. Inconceivably tempting. He was drawn to the little elf, and knelt on the floor before Astarion, his hands wrapping behind his calves. He could nearly touch his fingertips to his thumbs with the motion. His little vampire, his little bird; so vicious, Astarion could be, but also so delicate. Halsin felt possessiveness roil in his stomach as he thought again of the handsy vendor, and of anyone's hands touching his territory. His sigh had an edge to it, almost like a growl.

"That is precisely what worries me, my heart," Halsin said, his eyes not raising to meet Astarion's. He was face-level with his mate's crotch, and he felt his hands pull at Astarion's legs to part them, to give him easier access to the sweetness at the apex of his thighs he had been smelling the whole way to their room.

"Worries you?" Astarion asked with a little yelp at the sudden opening of his legs. He fell back onto his elbows on top of the velvet bedding and peered down at Halsin. "Darling, you worry too much. I know exactly what the problem is."

Halsin's face jerked upward as his hands slid up too, dipping into the waistline of Astarion's trousers and pulling downward. "What would that be," he asked, his voice low and deep.

"Well, to begin with, you haven't allowed yourself to finish in a week," the little elf said, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "That's enough to drive any man mad, let alone with the stress you've been under from this whole finding-your-inner-bear process." He raised his hips to allow Halsin to more easily remove his trousers, his back a delicate arch. Halsin wanted to pin the smaller man beneath him, to have that arch reversed, to press his hips so hard into Astarion's that there would be bruises for a week. His breath shuddered at the intrusive thought and he shook his head. 

"It is too close to the full moon to allow myself to take you fully," Halsin explained, pressing his face against Astarion's panties. They were soaking wet, the pale lace stained darker where Astarion's slit pressed against the material. Halsin's erection throbbed against his pants, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. "Last month. The full moon. I…"

Astarion couldn't answer at the moment, biting his lower lip at the sensation of Halsin's nose pressing softly against his swollen clit. He fought back a whimper as the druid dipped lower, his nose pulling from his clit and sliding down the gusset of his panties. Astarion's legs were lifted from the floor, and up, as Halsin rose from a kneel and pushed Astarion by his knees further onto the bed. He clambered onto the mattress after him, his tongue lapping sloppily at the apex of Astarion's thighs the entire time.

Halsin had always been one to ask for confirmation, verbally or otherwise before a change of position, before he made big moves. But the larger elf's tongue was too busy lolling about, dragging along Astarion's inner thighs where the lace met his milky skin. He settled in comfortably on the mattress, lying on his belly with his head framed by either of Astarion's thighs.

"You were fine ," Astarion whined, raising his hips, against the warmth, "And you will be fine tonight, too, if you'd stop thinking so bloody much." He ached to toss one of the pillows onto which he had been pushed. Maybe a gentle bonk would knock some sense into his lover. Astarion's confidence quaked, however, when Halsin's head pulled quickly away from his groin. 

"Astarion… you cannot possibly know.." The druid shifted on the mattress, raising up on his elbows to make eye contact with the vampire.

"Know? Please , Halsin. You were fine last month, what's different now?" His voice was whiny, petulant.

Halsin paused, a rumble in his throat, both at Astarion's casual dismissal of his concern and at the desire to lap at the sweetness pooling between his legs. He slipped a finger past the lace, grazing slightly along the outside of Astarion's slick folds.

"Did you know that more babies are born on full moons? And that a myriad of spells and rituals must be performed when the moon is brightest?" Halsin explained, slipping a finger inside the smaller elf, who was so deliciously tight around even just one finger that it made his head spin. Halsin pressed his groin against the mattress, rolling his hips against it absentmindedly. "Do you truly believe that the moon, which influences even the ocean tides of Faerun, does not affect people as well? Last month, in that clearing, I felt…closer to the Bear than I ever have in my life."

He shifted again, crawling upwards along Astarion's torso, before pressing his body to his lover's. The coolness of Astarion's porcelain skin was a balm that Halsin ached for. A territory he ached to claim. If Astarion had to breathe, he would have struggled to do so underneath Halsin's thick body, so firmly did he press his lover into the goose feather-stuffed mattress. Halsin's bulk was fully spread across him, and Astarion could not have been more delighted at how the larger elf seemed to lose himself in the moment with him.

Despite his words, his hesitation, his concern… Halsin felt an instinctual pull to touch Astarion, to claim his body and mind with his touch, his tongue, his cock, that felt even more intense than normal. He couldn't have pulled his hand away from the vampire's cool wetness if he tried - and he was. Trying, that is. His biceps burned with the attempt to curl his hand upward and away, to prevent this delicious touch that was satisfying his most carnal cravings. Instead, Halsin's fingers curled inside his mate's cunt, stroking rhythmically against the spongy tissue inside that marked the spot that pleased his lover the most.

Astarion's legs quivered in response, shaking against Halsin's sides, a cooling effect as opposed to the heat emanating from the druid like a sun-warmed brick. The contrast made Halsin shiver, and he lifted up with a grunt, the haze of lust lifting only slightly from his mind, and fear nagging at the back of it instead. He bid his tongue to work, to function, so that he could speak his concerns audibly to the vampire. While he struggled for his words, his thumb swirled languidly around Astarion's clit. The pale elf's whimpering at the sensation demanded his attention - and also his pause.

"I cannot hurt you, my heart, and I…. I fear that I will lose control if I allow myself to indulge in your body while the moon is at its brightest," he finally said. He wasn't sure that Astarion was truly paying attention, by the way the vampire was writhing on the bedspread and pressing his hips into Halsin's thick fingers.

Astarion scoffed at the thought, his sharp nails scraping against the sheets of the bed, pulling the linens taut in his fist. "I am immortal darling, and heal quickly. Please, spare me the hero act," he tutted, raising himself up with one hand to sit at an incline. He brought his other hand to the bony part of Halsin's chin, curling his fingertips underneath, pulling his face forward. "If you don't take me here and now…" Astarion warned, his voice an octave lower and tinged with the rumble of a slight growl.

It was an empty threat, of course. The vampire would never seek satisfaction elsewhere, he was wholly satisfied with Halsin. But he knew how Halsin enjoyed being told what to do, how the druid hungered for direction after so many years of having to choose, to be in control, to set expectations. Halsin was also dreadfully territorial, and the threat of Astarion flitting away to satisfy himself with his own fingers alone was enough to send the druid into a fit, not quite a rage, but a fervor to thoroughly debauch and lay claim to what was rightfully his. To make Astarion his. And to make sure that he knew it.

The pale elf did not have to finish the sentence; Halsin's eyes flashed a golden glow only a second before he lunged forward, pressing his lips against Astarion's smirking mouth. Astarion found himself pinned once again to the mattress, Halsin's chest and groin pressed against his. The larger elf ground his hips against the vampire's damp panties, teasing the sensitive nub against the delicate lace. A pity, that it would probably get torn, but Astarion didn't care - he was too preoccupied with how Halsin's tongue teased apart his lips to explore his mouth. It was hot and dominating, as if the druid seeked to claim his mouth by touching every bit of his tongue in wide, searing, open-mouthed kisses. Astarion returned the passion with gusto, curling his fingers into Halsin's auburn locks, grabbing a fistful at the base of his skull.

But only for a moment - for a growl from Halsin startled him, it seemed different than his normal lovemaking noises. It was almost animalistic, rather than elven-made, and Astarion's grip loosened enough for the druid to grab his wrists in one large hand and pin them to the mattress above the pale elf's head. Astarion grinned mischievously as Halsin's face pulled from his, capturing his lower lip between his teeth, which seemed... sharper, somehow. As if Halsin had grown fangs like his own.

His deep ruby eyes squinted at Halsin's mouth, but he could not tell a difference in the candlelight of the rented room, especially when Halsin's head was moving lower, to press kisses - and bites? - along his slender frame. His mate was not normally a biter. He let it be Astarion’s habit, and yet the vampire felt his large, hot mouth open wide to mark his porcelain skin, his flesh sucked between Halsin's teeth and held firmly. Not too painfully, for Astarion had experienced much worse, but the bites were hard enough that the vampire was sure he'd have bruises for several weeks once they blossomed on his pale skin.

All Halsin could think of is how he wanted to mark his territory, to cover the pale canvas before him in purple and blue and red marks, using Astarion's flesh and blood as paint, to leave teeth marks on his skin like he had left claw marks on the bark of birches in his forest. Typically, he loathed the idea of leaving welts or bright red stripes from his nails. Astarion was a marble sculpture that Halsin's more conservative side hated to mar. With what little restraint he felt that he still had available to him, Halsin lowered himself instead, further down, trailing teeth and tongue along his lover's pale belly, lower still to the lace panties which seeped with Astarion's need.

Astarion's scent was intoxicating, like a she-bear in heat, and Halsin dove in, pressing his face against the fabric again, so firmly that it pushed his nose flat. He opened his mouth, his wide wet tongue leaving a searing stripe along Astarion's pussy lips even through the fabric. The movement pulled a pathetic mewl from the vampire, whose hands were shifted lower, pressed to his own chest as Halsin dove down into his cunt. Astarion’s fingers clenched, sharp nails digging into his palms. How he hated being held down. How he loved it. He could only gyrate his hips, raising them as much as he could, but not for long.

Halsin's other hand wrapped around Astarion's waist, and the druid growled in satisfaction. He relished in the size difference between himself and his mate, how he could touch his fingers when fully encircling the little vampire - especially when he pressed down, pinning Astarion’s lower half to the mattress as well. He groaned at the thought as he lapped his broad tongue at Astarion's lower lips through the lace.

"A mess," Halsin growled, again, deeply, in a more animalistic manner than he had ever previously, glancing upward from Astarion's needy cunt to make eye contact. Glowing golden met ruby red only long enough for Halsin to speak. "Such a sloppy, sweet boy for me. So needy, my heart… how badly do you ache to be filled by me?" 

Astarion had no words in response to Halsin's, nor in response to the druid's actions. His lover enjoyed dirty talk, and was generous with his praise at all times, including in their bed, but this was on another level. Before he could process the words fully, the larger elf dove back down to Astarion's pussy and gathered the lace in his teeth. Halsin nodded downward, and his teeth - the druid's mind faintly realized they must be sharper than normal, tore the fabric with ease, leaving the vampire fully exposed. The remnants of the lacy fabric rolled upward, curling about the silk waistband.

Astarion was not one to be taken by surprise during their evenings (and mornings, and afternoons) of rolling about in the bedrolls, but Halsin had always been most careful with his belongings, including any delicate little thing that Astarion had purchased to wear for him. So, the snap of the fabric was accompanied by an audible gasp from the vampire.

Now that Astarion’s cunt was bared fully, Halsin paused for just a moment to take the sight in, to appreciate how beautiful his mate truly was. Astarion was stunning, his lips plump and pink from Halsin's attention, slick with both saliva and Astarion's wetness, his need . Halsin stroked a calloused finger between the folds, circling his clit lazily, but with intent, pulling a whine from Astarion's lips. Something within Halsin stirred, and he felt some of the stitches at the front of his trousers rip to accommodate his growing girth. He hadn't had that happen before, and looked down. Did the growth of the moon also mean now the growth of…? Halsin shook away the thought, that's not what he cared about at the moment.

Instead, he felt as though he was still starving, despite his face and chin being covered in the vampire's slick already, and he wanted to direct his attention solely on Astarion. He was so pitifully empty. He slipped a finger inside, then two, testing how needily Astarion's cunt gripped his fingers, then he withdrew them, licking his fingers while keeping his gaze trained on Astarion's eyes. The vampire's expression was full of surprise, his pupils blown out fully in a haze of arousal and need as he teetered on the edge of his pleasure. His alabaster skin shone with small beads of sweat from Halsin's teasing, and his hair had been mussed by being pressed into the silk pillows behind him.

Oakfather help him, Astarion was in a wretched state, so full of want, so ready to be fucked, to be bred. How Halsin couldn't wait to fill him to the brim, to press himself and his seed deep inside Astarion's womb. Had he been more conscious of his thoughts, he'd think it odd, for of course his seed was null when inside a vampire. 

But you must , something within him spoke as he stroked at Astarion's outer folds with his thick fingers. The druid inhaled deeply, then broke eye contact to dive into them, slathering his tongue inside Astarion's slit like licking honey off the comb.

Halsin's nose pressed against Astarion's clit, and the pale elf's hips rose to press against the sensation. He curled his slender fingers in Halsin's auburn mane, pressing his head down, harder onto the throbbing bundle of nerves that ached for attention. He'd been eaten out by Halsin dozens, if not hundreds of times at this point, but had the druid's tongue ever slipped inside his pussy so deeply? With such a…curl to it? Almost as if it were prehensile, pressing against his G-spot relentlessly.

Astarion couldn't recall, but then again, he could barely think. Halsin's mouth was too much a distraction as it explored inside him, between his folds, and then to his clit, suckling on it as though it were a teat, the friction and speed making his head rush so much, almost too much. And yet, not enough either, because he was close to that moment of bliss in which the lines of pleasure and pain blurred and became most intoxicating when enjoyed together.

Halsin noticed how Astarion's nails dug into his scalp, how his legs wrapped around him and his heels dug into the druid's shoulder blades, pulling him close, trapping his head and mouth against the vampire's soaking, needy cunt. He couldn't hold back the growl that was forming deep in his belly, then his chest, and finally from his mouth, snarling like a bear that was being stung while lapping honey from the hive. But he dove incessantly, lifting Astarion's hips from the mattress and pulling them up, do his face, to bury his nose and lips and chin into his wetness. Astarion could only mewl pitifully in response. He gripped onto Halsin's head and shoulders with what little strength he had; his hands and legs shook with pleasure.

 "H-Halsin!" Astarion said, his voice cracking, almost raspy, as the druid's practiced tongue and scorching mouth pulled him over the ledge... And into the orgasm which made stars burst behind his eyelids, his head spin, and wetness erupt from his cunt and drip down, over Halsin's chin, between Astarion's asscrack, soaking the bed beneath them. The vampire's arms and legs went nearly limp. He was held up only by Halsin's strength before having his lower body pressed to the mattress once more, Halsin's broad hand spanning his hips almost completely when spread wide, from thumb to pinky.

His vision was blurred as he stared at the ceiling dreamily, still riding the waves of bliss from his climax. Halsin's attentions this evening were intense, unforgiving, and almost…feral. The word came to Astarion's mind right as Halsin's face appeared above him. The druid crawled up, over the smaller elf's trembling body, to press his torso fully against Astarion's, shoulder to pelvis, and gaze down at his lover. His expression was almost unreadable, and tinged by something Astarion couldn't quite place. It pulled a memory from the back of his mind, back when they hadn't yet banished the shadow curse. Fear?

"Halsin?" He asked, abandoning his 'darling' pet name, the bliss of climax fading quickly in the literal face of fear he gazed into. Halsin's hair had fallen from his ponytail, his braids fluttering about his face.

"I… I need to stop. I cannot do this today. Not tonight," Halsin whispered hoarsely, pulling a hand upward to hold the side of Astarion's face, caressing the flushed tip of his pointed ear. "I keep… feeling wild urges. Almost as though I'm experiencing what bears do, their...seasons."

Astarion's ruby eyes grew wide with realization - it wasn't some noble, heroic act that Halsin was acting upon, no white-knight silliness that the vampire always viewed with derision. Halsin was genuinely concerned about how dangerous he might be with the 'full acceptance' of the bear, or however he had explained it. His need to mate and breed.

How thrilling . There was nothing that could get the little vampire going more quickly than a taste of danger, the thrill of the hunt. And the idea of his noble, gentle Halsin, losing himself to his monstrous side. Becoming as monstrous as vampires are. Astarion's loins tingled at the idea of his lover losing control - more specifically, losing control over him .

"I already explained darling, I'm immortal…" Astarion purred, leaning upward to press his lips against Halsin's, cool tongue begging for entrance. Their tongues met briefly, before Halsin pulled away, panting. Sweat had beaded on his forehead, and Astarion could feel the press of his hardened cock - hells below, was it bigger than normal.. and what was that ... a knot against his slick-soaked cunt? "Breed me, Halsin," he whispered, pulling at the nape of Halsin's neck to lick along the sensitive ridge of his ear and further egg the druid on. "Breed me then, my love, knot me. Make me yours ." His words came out almost as a hiss, before he lapped at the tip of Halsin's ear. The larger elf groaned at both the sensation and his words, his erection grinding through his trousers against Astarion's pale skin.

"My heart… you… don't know what you're asking of me," Halsin panted, his voice low and gravelly. He pressed on the mattress to raise himself, unlace his trousers to free his pulsing erection. As his trousers slid down his well-muscled thighs and settled around his knees, Halsin's cock bobbed in the air. It was bigger than normal, shaped differently too… and a thick bulge at the base, near Halsin's balls. Astarion swore the druid had thicker body hair than normal, and traced the line of it with his eyes back over Halsin's torso, up to his neck, his face… where the druid's eyes glowed even a more fierce golden. His mouth was agape, and as he spoke, Astarion swore he saw elongated fangs poking out. "Once I enter you I will… not have control, Astarion," he explained, not breaking eye contact with the vampire, "I'll be ruthless. I'll ruin you."

Astarion's expression turned from curiosity, as his eyebrows raised and a sultry grin spread across it. His nimble hands reached down to grasp Halsin's cock - hells it was much bigger than normal - and brushed the sensitive tip against his slick folds. Halsin groaned with the sensation, his hips bucking in response, but kept his eyes locked to Astarion's.

"Then ruin me," replied the vampire in a husky voice, his words dripping with a tease, a taunt. It was a plea that came from the heart - Astarion ached to see this side of Halsin that was more like him , running on instinct, the basest level, the most animalistic and monstrous version he could get from Halsin save from a curse of vampirism or lycanthropy. And he wanted it all.

Halsin's eyes narrowed at his words, the hesitance in his expression fading instead to a feral focus as he slowly rolled his hips, thrusting into Astarion's hand, then past it, past the wet folds and inside the vampire. The pale elf moaned and lifted his hips, his eyes rolling upward momentarily at the stretch of Halsin's girth in his cunt. Halsin's breath escaped in a growl as he hunched over Astarion's form, his vampire's grin almost a taunt as he gazed up.

The stretch was delicious, Halsin was absolutely larger than normal, and so much warmer inside of him. The druid thrusts were tentative, as though he were testing the fit, or experiencing territory previously unexplored. It was too slow, too careful, too…. contemplative . That's not what Halsin's 'inner bear' or whatever was aching for, Astarion reckoned, and grinned to himself wider as he thought of how to truly have Halsin lose himself to his own need.

Astarion himself needed more , and nipped at Halsin's bottom lip, pricking it slightly while lapping inside the druid's mouth, seeking to deeply entwine himself with his lover. Halsin nearly snarled at pinch of his fangs, but in a way that didn't seem angry. It seemed more… primal. Astarion held back a pleasured scream as he felt the druid thrust himself into his pussy harder, deeper than he had previously. It was almost painful, the the head of the druid's thick cock pressing against his cervix, the walls of his pussy, slipping all the way out, brushing his lips, before quickly slamming back in.

Astarion fought the urge to crawl away, to escape the relentless press against his insides, the ache that hurt so deliciously, the stretch that stung to accommodate Halsin's girth. His hands were free now, and he grasped at the velveteen covers and the pillows as a way to not float away in pleasure, to remain somewhat grounded to this realm, to this experience. But a stronger means of keeping the vampire grounded appeared around his body - Halsin's large hands grasped at his hips, holding the vampire in place. Halsin's mouth curled into a snarl as he rutted into the tightness, his grunts of effort more like growls. Astarion's gaze flitted downward, at Halsin's firm grip, and in the fog of desire he noted briefly how Halsin's nails were longer, sharper. Halsin seemed to have grown claws of his own. The vampire's grin grew wider, his teeth grit together in satisfaction and lust. 

"That's it love," he panted, his words ending on a high-pitched moan. Astarion wrapped his legs around Halsin's hips, digging his heels into the small of the druid's back.

It suited Halsin just fine, for he wanted nothing more than to be made one with Astarion. For the vampire to be made his . More than just lust whirled through Halsin's mind as he slammed into Astarion's cunt. The desire to fill him, make the vampire heavy with his seed, and then his cubs, to continue his lineage. To breed.

"Astarion… you…" Halsin's words coming between his thrusts. The druid wrapped one arm around the vampire's lower back, lifting his lithe body up to his own bulk. Halsin’s other arm slid upwards and pressed onto the mattress, holding him up to not crush Astarion fully.

"Yes, darling, yes ," Astarion replied, egging him on, his slender fingers skittering up Halsin's chest, to grip onto his thick muscles. His claws dug in to keep the druid close. The pinpricks of blood drawn by his claws dribbled down Halsin's chest, and Astarion's eyes flashed with a different type of hunger. The druid bared his teeth at the sensation, his face hovering only inches from Astarion's. The vampire's eyes widened, as did his grin. He did have fangs…

"You are.. going to come for me," Halsin growled, his hips moving more slowly, agonizingly slowly, the broad head of his cock pulling all the way out, pressing against Astarion's pussy lips, slick with wet, swollen with desire, and oh-so-sensitive. Astarion was in no place to argue, the sensation almost too much, nearly taking him to the edge then and there as the flare of Halsin's cock. His eyes closed, his pale white eyelashes fluttering against his reddened cheeks. Astarion was stunning, captivating, one of a kind. And his . 

"And after you do," Halsin continued, "I am going to fill you up with so much of my seed that it will drip down your thighs for days." He continued rolling his hips lazily, immersing his cock deeply into Astarion’s body, grinding the front of his pelvis against his lover’s clit. The vampire could only writhe beneath Halsin, under the muscle and bulk of the druid. It delighted him to be in such a place, to be chosen and cherished and…

"You are going to be bred like a bitch in heat, Astarion," Halsin huffed, his voice a rumbling growl as his mouth pressed firm bites on the vampire's pale porcelain neck. Astarion could only whimper in response, especially as the druid's mouth traveled over his old bite scar. Halsin's fangs slotted neatly into the old scarred divots, and he bit down hard, tasting a faint hint of copper as small droplets came to the surface. Astarion's eyes shot open and he gasped in shock, his breath coming out in a loud whimper, his throat vibrating in Halsin's mouth. The pressure of the bite was more of a surprise than the pain, and the blood drawn by the druid's fangs was miniscule at best, nothing like he had experienced before he became what he was. They fluttered closed again, his head tilting backwards, his silver curls falling about on the pillows and velveteen blanket under him.

But the most surprising of everything was Halsin's words , and Astarion's head spun with the idea of being claimed, being made Halsin's mate. His breath hitched and he keened with each thrust of the druid's thick cock inside him, the thought of being filled with Halsin's seed and then.. eventually…His thoughts were spinning about in his head, his previously-unconsidered-until-today desire for this.. this breeding , this claiming, driving him into more of a frenzy than he thought previously possible. 

" Yesss ," Astarion hissed in pleasure as his cunt was filled once again with Halsin's cock. "Yes, darling," he keened, his legs tightening around Halsin's hips, which seemed to be more of a stretch than it had been just minutes ago. And… hairier?

His eyes opened to a view which he could not have predicted, even with Halsin's forewarnings, muttered concerns and resistance. The moonlight filtered through the window panes, casting a pale white glow on his lover Halsin, who.. didn't look like Halsin. Not anymore.

The druid wasn't elven. He wasn't human. He was - something else - Astarion's grin returned to his face as he made eye contact with this bestial being above him - one whose eyes glowed golden much like Halsin's. And while there was also the scent of animal, slightly musky, it still smelled like Halsin, of fresh basil and honey. But the beast above him had a muzzle, and a wet black nose, and a maw full of sharp teeth the size of steak knives. The fur along the right side of his face had a swirled pattern, with four scars borne across the left side of its face.

A bear. A bear standing on his haunches, but not a true bear like found in the forest. It reminded him of a gnoll, but in a bear's skin. Its paws were more like humanoid hands, black thick claws at the fingertips pressing into Astarion's tender skin. Its shoulders were broad, and it stood upright like goblinkin and gnolls. And its cock - hells below - its cock was so thick, hotter now than just before Astarion had closed his eyes. And then it spoke.

"You're going to give me a whole litter of cubs, Astarion," he spoke, in Halsin's voice - but deeper, a bit more gravelly, rougher at the edges.

Halsin was one with the Bear. Astarion gasped, relishing with delight at not being the most monstrous partner of the pairing - for once.

" Darling ," moaned Astarion, for that was the only word he could speak at the revelation, his realization that Halsin was a werebear, and had shifted as the moonlight had made contact with his skin.

Halsin's balls ached for release each time it pressed against Astarion's ass with each thrust. But Halsin held back. He needed to wait. He needed to -

"Knot - '' the vampire moaned as Halsin thrust in particularly deeply, and Astarion felt the pressure of the bulge at the base of the werebear's cock. " Knot me , Halsin, please ." His begging was pitiful, uncharacteristic of the vampire. And Halsin, in this werebear form, could not resist the instinctual call to claim his mate. Especially when his mate was begging for it, in both his words and his wetness. Halsin's cock throbbed with need, with each thrust into Astarion's cunt getting him closer to claiming his mate. Halsin's furry balls slapped against Astarion's cool flesh, then pressed firmly at first, against the resistance of Astarion's pussy.

He needed to calm his mate, to soothe him, and Halsin pressed his wet nose against Astarion's ear. His long, hot tongue lolled out of his maw to lap at the edge of the vampire's pointed ear. It curled about the tip, stroking it steadily, matching the thrusts of Halsin's hips into Astarion. The vampire's pleasure came out in breathy moans as he leaned his head into the sensation, and as his pelvis rose to meet the hairy hips of his werebear mate.

The tongue unfurled from around his ear, and the druid growled his words beside Astarion's head. "You're going to look beautiful with a belly full of my cubs, Astarion," Halsin rumbled, his snout wrinkling as he bared his teeth in pleasure. Halsin's assertion was all Astarion needed to relax, to give in, to allow himself to experience the waves of climax that he had been hungering for. 

The vampire keened with satisfaction, dragging his nails across the werebear's furry chest. Astarion's cunt spasmed with his orgasm, with pleasure, and then relaxed - and the werebear took his chance slamming further into Astarion’s cunt.. The vampire screamed in both pleasure and pain at the delicious stretch of Halsin's knot pressing against his insides, filling him completely. The druid's cock pushed against his cervix, fully against every pleasure point inside the vampire, and Astarion could only continue his silent scream of satisfaction as his cunt was filled to the brim and stretched to nearly tearing.

But he didn't care, it didn't matter, all that mattered was being filled by his love, by his mate, being claimed by the heat that coated his insides as Halsin reached climax right after him, his thick bear cock twitching as he came inside of Astarion. Halsin roared in satisfaction, his erection still pulsing. His seed poured past his knot, dripping more spend onto the sheets that were already ruined by the claws on his hind feet that had been tearing at them.

Both men's breaths came in panting huffs, and Astarion had closed his eyes again as he climaxed. He held Halsin in place with his legs, forbidding the druid from pulling out of him, and noticed that he had to soon squeeze tighter... and that the body he had encircled with them was markedly less hairy. 

"My heart," Halsin said, his voice less of a growl, "my mate." 

Astarion's eyes fluttered open, to look upward at Halsin, now back in his elven form, his eyes flashing golden still in the pale moonlight. Astarion smiled at him, at the mess they both were - sweat and blood and cum-slicked all over, the ruined bedcover beneath them. And at the knowledge that he could never doubt his druid's devotion to him.

"My sweet bear," drawled Astarion, pulling Halsin in for a lazy, gentle kiss as they lay intertwined, "You know…I've never minded being caressed by claws..."

[mr-inkslinger]

Arthur gripped your hips, he suggested this position, not really suggested. He mostly had lifted you off him the second you had clenched around him, he took advantage of your orgasm to reposition you. His hand held your hips, keeping you up. He gave the curve of you ass an affectionate pat. "You're alright.." His voice was soft, the roughness of it soothing your nerves as your thighs trembled. "Arthur.. please." You weren't even sure if you wanted a break or more, the please seemed to go either way. "You okay?" He mumbled, that rough hand that was always gentle with you smoothed up your spine to the nape of your neck as he leaned over to kiss your shoulder. You panted as you nodded, soft hairs stuck to your forehead. "Want more?" It took you a second to process what he was asking and before you even processed what you were doing, there was a faint nod. He smiled against your skin, "Atta girl.." Arthur had never ending praise for you. For even the simplest of things. A good job for eating dinner or waking up in the morning. Any act of living earned praised, you were his world. His girl. His everything. During these tumultuous times, he found solace in the tiny hotel room he was able to steal you away in. He was able to pretend it was all different. Maybe you two had a home or at least the gang wasn't falling apart.. he snapped out of it as he leaned back, bringing your hips up again.

He eased into you, a breathless gasp followed by a higher pitch moan left your throat. He kept your back arched with one big hand pressed between your shoulders as his other gripped your hip. His blunt nails biting at your skin, leaving little crescents. He wasn't being particularly gentle but nonetheless paused to catch his breath. Your velvet walls were clenching around him, almost painfully tight and too hot. He let out a throaty groan, it came from up in his chest. Almost a breathless noise. Arthur threw his head back, his fingers drumming on your back lightly. He huffed, pulling his hips back, he could feel how you suctioned around him, so he didn't pull out completely. He didn't was to lose that. He snapped his hips, grinning at your breath hitching, nice and loud. You had abused your pussy riding him, until she was puffy and soaked. He offered occasional help, but he mostly thrusted upwards to surprise you when he felt you getting close. He liked watching you do all the work, so it was time to return the favor. Each time he pulled out and rolled his hips forward, they got faster and stronger. He leaned over you, slowly pressing his chest to your back. It was strong and warm, damp with sweat and his hair soft. His hand flew to the headboard, caging you between one arm next to your head and his firm bicep. Built like a piece of sinewy lumber, strong and unmoving, he had you trapped. The noises coming from your dripping cunt were filthy. How could you be soaked for him? A tough, gritty man. A killer. An outlaw. A bad, bad, bad-

"Arthur..!" The way you squeaked his name caught his attention, he could feel your walls around him, shit, your poor pussy never caught a break. He could feel you clenching and writhing and your nails dug into his thick wrist. But he didn't let up, even when you were pushed forward by the sheer force of his thrusts. "Don't- run from me." He gritted out, teeth clenched, his head pressed to the back of yours. His arm shifted, his forearm pressed to the front of your shoulder, keeping you from jolting forward. You were ruining the sheets, his thighs were sticky and slick with you, his dick coated in your cream, his hairs frothy. He wasn't even attempting to quiet himself now. "God.. damn it." Your legs gave out without his hand holding you up, you pressed flat on your stomach, feeling the sheets sticking to your wet skin, beads of sweat sliding down the column of your neck.

"Look'atchu.. You're a good girl.." His praises deep and guttural, he pressed you further into the mattress. Your moans had progressed into soft screams, your face half hidden in your pillow, hair messed. His hand that wasn't white knuckling the headboard slid between the mattress and you, finding your clit. Poor thing was twitching at just the slightest touch from him. "There ya go.. Takin' me and lookin' so pretty.." His lips pressed to the crown of your skull, your hair tickling his nose. With just a few soft circle from his finger, he ripped another orgasm out of you, you soaked his cock while he pounded you into the mattress. You were a sobbing mess, choking on your words. A mix of please, Arthur, I can't do it and don't stop, harder, deeper. He liked fucking the brains right out if your pretty head. Feeling your cunt drenched him and constrict around him so perfectly, like your pussy was made to take his thick cock and keeping it nice and tight and warm, seated so deep within you, made his stomach taught. His own legs trembled at the way his release hit him like a damn freight train.

"Fuck-" he had no words, nothing to describe how it felt, rutting his seed deeper in you with his dick twitching. He collapsed, mind empty, body numb, nearly crushing you and keeping the wind knocked from your lungs. Your hand patted his head. "Good job.. I can't breathe." Arthur's laugh was soft, his eyes closed. "Sorry, sweetheart."

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

a waste of a beautiful dress - n. hischier

summary: an unhappy valentine's day date doesn't always end up with you watching lord of the rings alone with a glass of wine...at least, not when a certain captain can help it

warnings: talks of sex/bad date, mention of alcohol consumption, descriptions of the above facial injury, swearing, cutesy 2.1k thing

a/n: this is a short imagine-thing i wrote on valentine's day that i kind of forgot about (i was gonna write more but i just couldn't think of what to do, so if the ending's weird, that's why!) and i didn't want to not publish this for you guys, so...enjoy!

“Is everything okay?”

You blinked, the elevator coming back to focus around you, the walls distorting the reflection of someone that, rather against your will, you’d found growing increasingly familiar with each week. The bottle of wine in your grasp felt suddenly heavier under his careful scrutiny, and you felt your fist tighten around it, almost protectively.

You could only imagine what you looked like: nice clothes – maybe a little too  nice for an evening stroll or a walk around the block, and a tarnished, almost numb expression on your face, even despite the conflicted tornado swirling inside your mind. There was no doubt he’d deciphered your distracted look and the dejection written so plainly on your face. Yet, though you knew what he saw, you refused to feel pity for yourself.

You inhaled, plastering a tight smile on your face as you looked towards him, his beloved beanie on his head and a backpack on his shoulders. His head was dipped a little, a slight furrow between his brows, ever telling of his caring tendencies, and you suddenly felt a little better, even despite the previous events.

“I’m fine.” You tried, slyly moving the bottle further out of his sight. It didn’t work: his eyes seemed to catch the slight motion before meeting yours, a look of disbelief on his face, “You?” You asked, desperate to turn his attention away from you.

Nico Hischier wasn’t someone you’d have found yourself chatting to casually mere months ago, at least not past the usual pleasantries. Though, it seemed the mutual friends and the many parties had oiled that creaking joint somewhere along the way, and – hesitantly – you were friends to some degree. So much so that every so often the two of you may find yourselves in the other’s apartment with a mug of coffee or a glass of wine in hand with something playing on the TV.

Of course, no one else knew about that.

He sighed, leaning back against the mirror opposite you. There was a cut under his eye you hadn’t seen immediately, but when he leant back the light seemed to catch the green skin and the scratch. He seemed to notice your concerned wince before you could point it out, his hand flying up to lightly press underneath it, “It’s fine, I just caught a puck yesterday.”

Before he could say anything else, and you knew he would because he started to frown again, you interrupted, a slight laugh of mirth passing your lips, “No big deal.”

He froze a little, but still a smile replaced the apprehension as he shook his head, "Better my cheek than my teeth.” 

“That’s true.” You grinned in agreement, attention immediately turning to the opening doors as they dinged, your floor appearing before you.

“After you.” Nico gestured, following closely behind as you both wandered to the end of the hall, your eyes glued to the patterned tiles beneath your feet, before a thought suddenly struck you, and with some urgency.

“Do you have Arnica?” You turned to Nico, your hand hovering under your own eye when he blinked in confusion, shaking his head, “For your eye? It helps with pain and bruising.”

“Uh…”

“Unless you want to keep your battle scar?” You teased lightly, unzipping your bag to pull out your keys, only to notice his still-close presence by your shoulder, even despite being outside your door.

You looked up, only to be met with a sheepish smile, one that you knew meant you’d caught him, but he shrugged, “The Arnica seems sensible.”

“Sensible?” You pushed your key through the door, turning the lock.

“It’s not much of a battle scar when a rubber disc wins.” He rationalised, walking through your doorway when you held it open for him and immediately gravitating towards the cat bed towards the far end of your apartment.

By the time you’d locked the door, shed your coat and placed your bag and the wine on the counter, he’d returned, still in his coat, beanie and backpack with a fond look on his face, your cat snuggled in his arms with no complaints of the attention except a rumbling, contented purr.

His eyes seemed to drop to your dress, and widen a little, and you knew there was absolutely no dodging his questions, not when he seemed to grow a little wary and dart his gaze to the bottle of wine on the counter.

“Did you have any Valentine’s plans today?” he asked lightly, briefly turning his attention back to the cat in his arms, most likely to give you a moment to steel yourself.

You hesitated, adjusting the straps on your dress. Nico was lovely, you knew that; he’d never once said or done anything to make you feel uncomfortable, but there was something more serious and vulnerable as to what you were about to say – lying wasn’t really in the cards, mostly because you knew he knew whatever had happened already hadn’t particularly ended well.

He’d caught you on the verge of tears in an elevator by yourself, clutching a bottle of wine, for fuck’s sake. You didn’t do that on Valentine’s day unless something had gone wrong.

“I did.” You breathed, quickly wiping down the counter surface and avoiding looking at him, trying to fight the embarrassment clawing its way up your throat, threatening to spill colour onto your cheeks.

You had nothing to be embarrassed about whatsoever.

He said nothing, just watched you carefully, keeping his distance. If you didn’t want to talk about it, you knew he wouldn’t even press the subject.

“I had a date earlier–” out of the corner of your eye, you saw his gaze cut to the clock on the wall: half-past six. “It didn’t go well.”

He nodded, treading carefully with his words, “How come?”

“He made some comments that I couldn’t really ignore, and when I asked him about it, y’know, to just clarify some things, he kicked off, I corrected him, he sulked, and then left halfway through when I went to the toilet.” You said in one breath, feeling your skin prickle with the reminder of the entire ordeal, scrubbing at a spot on the counter – sometimes grease just didn't budge.

There was the dull thud of paws against your floor, and you looked up to see Nico standing at the opposite side of the counter, an unreadable expression on his face. His brows were pulled together, but there was no telltale crease; his mouth was parted, but in a way that suggested he was a bit more hesitant at finding out what you had to say than a mortified scowl.

“What did he say?” His tone of voice was unwavering, but the slight edge to it sent your heart pounding a little harder nonetheless.

He had a sister, he was probably thinking of all the worst possible scenarios.

You felt your voice get caught in your throat, and you found yourself wishing you’d never even been this honest with him in the first place, because you felt…embarrassed, almost, to admit it fully, “He made a ‘my place or yours after this’ comment and I told him I didn’t want to sleep with him, so he left the first chance he got.” You said quietly, still making yourself busy with tidying the kitchen.

You inhaled deeply, spinning on your heel and fiddling with some of the utensils before you could gain the courage to even look in his direction. You didn’t want to see him pity you.

Except, when you did look up, you saw none of the pity you’d been expecting. In fact, his mouth was pressed firmly shut, and when he caught you looking at him, he – very insistently – muttered, “Well, he’s a fucking dick.”

You felt the corners of your mouth twitch up in some hint of a smile, “Thanks.”

Then, almost like it did in the elevator, the light seemed to catch the shiner under his eye, reminding you of the very reason he’d walked through your threshold in the first place, and you began to wander through the hallway, “I’ll go get the Arnica.”

He nodded in response, shucking his coat and draping it across the back of one of the stools, before bending down to stroke the cat nuzzling at his shins. You rounded the corner into your bathroom, rifling through the cupboard for the tube of cream, before making your way back into the living area, the tube outstretched in your hand.

He took it from you gently, leaning his elbows across the countertop as he read the information on the back of it silently.

“What about you?” You asked, and he looked up, “Any Valentine’s Day plans?”

He blinked, sighing, “I laid in bed for an hour longer than usual.” He said simply, “Then I went to a late morning skate, came home, watched some TV, went to the gym, and now I’m here. So, no, not really.” He inhaled, and you felt yourself grow a little uneasy when he started poking the swelling under his eye, looking into his phone to apply the cream, “You got any more plans?”

Your eyes darted to the bottle of wine, “I was gonna drink wine and watch Lord of the Rings.”

He breathed a startled laugh, “Sounds like a good plan.”

“It is.” You agreed, pausing to consider something, before taking a breath, “Do you wanna join me?”

It wasn’t something you’d never done with each other before; in fact, the two of you seemed to get along better without a cacophony of people interrupting (though that wasn’t much of a surprise), however there was something more delicate and meaningful in the knowledge of the day: Valentine’s Day was undoubtedly something that was weighing on both your minds. It was impossible not to – the posts on social media, the love hearts plastered in shop windows and the flowers everywhere didn’t let you forget it.

It just felt different, somehow.

Nico’s fingers faltered under his eye, and he looked up, brown eyes a little wider than usual, with his mouth parted in surprise. Evidently, he’d been thinking along similar lines to you, but Valentine’s Day wasn’t just about romance and love and whatnot: it was also just another day.

He blinked, eyes searching your face for regret in asking, or for some sign that he should turn down your offer, no matter how tantalising it was.

“It’s not gonna drink itself.” You joked lamely, watching as he slowly nodded, ducking his head down to mask the smile you knew was now on his face.

“Are you sure?” He mumbled, placing his phone on the counter and screwing the top back onto the cream. His eye was now shining a little, but it gave you inexplicable comfort to know that it was at least taken care of temporarily.

Even looking at it seemed to send a dull ache thrumming across your cheekbone.

“I’m sure.” 

Then: “Did you eat on that date?” He asked, raising a brow.

“No.”

He frowned, but showed nothing to say he was particularly shocked by that answer, and stood up from the stool very quickly – quick enough to startled the cat, and quick enough to have to catch the stool from falling over in his haste, “Do you maybe want to get something to eat, first? I know a good place a couple of blocks away.”

You stuttered, not entirely expecting such a spontaneous proposal, “Sure, I just—I should change first, though.”

His eyes dragged down your figure, and for the first time ever, you found yourself trying to regain control of the sudden blush that threatened to stain your cheeks, before he tutted, met your eyes, smiled and shook his head, dimples as clear as they’d ever been. There was something bright in his eye, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d assume there was some mischief lingering there – as though he knew exactly what you were refraining from doing under his gaze.

“Personally,” he started off slowly, “I think it’d be a waste of a beautiful dress.”

You sucked the inside of your cheek, looking down at your dress. It was beautiful, though arguably it had already been wasted on the day considering the hellish date experience, but maybe eating out with Nico would change that? 

“In that case…” You trailed off, grabbing your coat and slipping your shoes back on, “But–” You whirled around, Nico’s hand going suspiciously fast to cover his mouth, though the crinkles by his eyes certainly told you everything you needed to know, and arched an accusing brow in his direction, “I’m changing when we get back.”

“Fine by me.” He held up his hands in surrender, mouth pressed tightly together to prevent himself from laughing, and you rolled your eyes at his innocent act, but said nothing.

[1800-lemonadeg1rl]

Sleepless nights

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary - you go on a routine mission which ends badly how will your girlfriend react

Warnings - gunshots, violence, bullet wounds, mention of stitches, likely medically incorrect, blood, hospital? Not proofread

word count - 1.5k

A/n - I dont know what happened while writing this its all a blackout. As always any feedback is rlly appreciated!!!

It was just supposed to be another simple routine mission. Over and done with in a matter of hours. But of course nothing was ever as easy as predicted.

It had all been going with relative ease until you and Clint were fighting off agents left and right. Something you were usually both good at. However where you'd found yourselves was very much enclosed meaning you couldn't run and you had no idea how many or where these agents were coming from. Your backs were against each other as you moved in circular motions around the room.

"You did this you know, everything was going just fine until you said 'wow this mission has been quite the breeze.'" You mimick Clints earlier words in a squeaky high pitched voice while taking out a couple agents. "Couldn't have just waited till we were on the quinjet could you?"

"Look I really thought it was over. At least I wasn't the one who knocked over the vase alerting everyone in the Tri-state area of our location." He pipes back as you both fall into the usual bickering banter you often did, squabbling like small children. You and Clint had always been close and worked well with each other despite the constant pecking at each other. You'd become even closer once you'd gotten together with his best friend Natasha. Well, after he stopped threatening you about breaking her heart that is.

"Okay well atleast I'm not stupid."

"Yeah real mature. What does that even mean?" He retorts back with a chuckle at how quickly you begin to lose an argument and just throw childish insults at him.

"I thought you'd be smart enough to understand a simple senten-.." You trail off as you see an agent aiming at Clint, one he hadn't noticed. Though you considered letting the agent hit him and getting to be considered the better fighter it wasn't worth letting your friend die just to one up him.

"Clint watch out." You yell frantically as you watch the agent take aim. Clint wasn't going to have time to move. You panicked and shoved him to the floor knocking him from the bullet.

You don't think much of it when you don't see the bullet land or even when you vision blurs. It's only you notice somethings up when you see a blood splattering on your hand. Instinctively you look for Clint worried something hit him but you find him staring right back at you. That's when you feel the searing pain from your hip. Placing a hand over it to find out what's wrong, you feel a cold and wet substance spilling from it.

Thats when everything starts spinning. Moving too quick but not fast enough at all. The pain feeling worse, like nothing you've ever felt before as the adrenaline wears off and the severity of the situation sets in.

"Y/n look at me." Clints voice is grounding and calm making you briefly feel better. "There's no agents left okay. We're going to walk together to the quinjet, don't rush yourself it's going to be okay." You nod along even though your unsure you'll be able to walk that far as your vision fades in and on like a flickering TV.

He moves over to you and presses your hand firmly over the wound. "Keep your hand there and apply as much pressure as you can." Despite the way you stumble around as you try to apply any pressure at all to the wound he still sounds calm like he believes you can do this.

His hand hooks around you helping hold you up as the two of you begin a slow walk back. Things aren't looking too bad at first I mean sure you can hardly see infront of you an everytime you open your mouth to speak the only thing that sounds is a groan of pain but your managing it, you feel yourself believe you'll be able to do this walk back.

That is all before you trip over a stone which sends you tumbling onto your front, directly where the bullet wound is is where you hit the hardest when you fall causing you to scream out in pain with a noise you never knew you'd make. Clint immediately tries to pull you back to your feet while telling you how close you are to getting home but it's no use as your body goes stiff, legs refusing to move.

"Natasha is gonna kill me." I mumble half heartedly as he holds me up and my vision fades for what I believe might be the final time.

"Not if she kills me first." He chuckles and that's the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

Two days. Two whole days they said you were out for. You missed two days. Two days where you didn't see Natasha but she saw you, she sat by you every minute she could and when she couldn't sit anymore she slept by you not leaving for a second. She wouldn't even leave your hospital room for food. Clint having to practically force food down her throat so she didn't end up in a hospital bed alongside you.

You blinked awake. You'd been awake about an hour prior but were too drugged up to process anything going on and had quickly fallen back into your slumber. This time you were much more determined to stay awake, that and your pain medication was wearing off and you could begin to feel a sharp pain replacing the previously dull one.

As you woke yourself up to the bright white fluorescent lights of the hospital, those lights which practically felt blinding. Giving you little time to adjust to being awake, Natasha started speaking.

"So what happened?" She sounded angry. A little rough maybe as the Russian tinged her accent slightly in a way you only heard few times. As you located where her voice had come from, a small chair just to the left of your bed. Now that you could see her she seemed more worn out or stressed out the angry. Dark circles lurked under her eyes as her forhead creased showing visible lines.

"Uh.. didn't uhm.. Clint... tell you." You slowly mumble out as you try to push myself into a sitting position but before you can Natasha is up and pushing you back down to lie down.

"The doctor said you can't sit up yet or you'll move the stitches. And no he hasn't explained anything, so you better." She lays your head back on the pillow with such a contrasting softness to the way she's speaking which is almost as if she's interrogating you.

You roll your head over the side to face her as you recount what you remember from the mission. "So basically me and Clint, well especially me are kicking ass knocking these agents to the ground. But then one aims at Clint and I push him out the way and now we're here." You explain the best you can but it's just so difficult when your heads all fuzzy and until five minutes ago you were convinced you were dead. "I thought I was gonna die 'Tasha."

"You shouldn't put yourself at risk like that baby." She says while brushing stray hairs away from your face and back behind your ears. "Things could have been a lot worse.." her voice trails off all usual roughness gone as she appears as if she may break down crying at any second. "I could have lost you."

That's all it takes for you to start crying as hot tears stream your face making it hard to see anything. Seeing your deteriorating emotional state Natasha makes the descion to crawl into the bed next to you. "Oh hush now, it's alright. I was just worried about you lyubov." she coos while leaning over to kiss your dampened cheek.

"I know I know.. I'm just really sorry... I dont ever want to lose you Natasha." Your tears keep falling despite her soft, reassuring words.

"Y/n, I don't want to lose you either. Which is why I think it could be time we retired before either of us do. Of course it's up to you though, I won't pressure you."

It takes you a minute to process her words but when you do your glad for them. You'd been considering at least cutting down your workload recently but hadn't considered Natasha would be open to retirement at such a young age. You can feel your face break out into a small smile as she suggests it herself. Her own face is one of nervous apprehension as she chews on her lip.

"Yes. Please I want nothing more than to retire and with you." You reach in to kiss her face eagerly. Your lips smothering hers in an almost desperate fashion as if you were worried it could be your last.

"If this is what retirement is like I cant wait." She whispers as she pulls away from your lips, nipping them gently first. She cups your face in her hands before leaning back in.

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒, 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍' / 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐌𝐒 ─ QH⁴³

TRACK 7 ─── FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER

TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !

౨ৎ ─ summary | he was always the first person she calls when she's broken up with her boyfriend. will this be like every other time, or something new?

─ word count | 2.2k

─ warnings | NSFW! smut with lots of plot, so much fucking angst (it's ttpd what do we expect?), mentions of cheating and manipulative (ex) bf, breaking-up, lots of cheating (on reader + kinda quinn/reader but depends on how you look at it), nothing else pretty much

─ ev's notes | yaya! another part!!! WOOO, but this one's an angsty one (but hey, at least this time it has SMUT WOOHOO)

THE FALLING OUT was bound to happen. You knew that at the end of the day, it was just simply fate. You weren't sure what the last straw was, all you knew was that you knew it was inevitable ─ it was supposed to happen that way.

You didn't even know where you were going until you got there. It was a habit, the moment you broke up with your boyfriend, you found yourself on Quinn's doorstep. Your mind was racing and somehow empty at the same time as you raised your fist to knock on his door. The familiar wooden door loomed before you as your hand hovered in mid-air, trembling with uncertainty.

Your hand trembled as you raised it to knock, the thud echoing through the silent night. Seconds stretched into eternity as you waited, the tension thickening with each passing moment. Then, as if on cue, the door swung open, revealing Quinn's disheveled appearance.

His gaze met yours and you offered no explanation, no justification for your sudden appearance on his doorstep. Instead, you simply stood there, searching for solace in the depths of his brown eyes.

Quinn's expression softened, a silent understanding passing between you. Without a word, he stepped aside, a silent invitation for you to enter his home once more.

You entered the familiar home. It's changed since the last time you'd been there, almost six months ago ─ the last time you and your boyfriend had taken a break, which funnily only had lasted a week, but you somehow still had time to see Quinn again.

You sat on his couch comfortably as a silent sigh left your plump lips. Quinn's gaze lingered on your form, a mixture of familiarity and longing evident in his eyes.

Quinn moved to join you on the couch, his presence a comforting in uncertainty that threatened to engulf you. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining and for a fleeting moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders.

"You want coffee?" Quinn's voice was rough and low as he spoke. Even though it was well after midnight, he still offered coffee ─ he was a caffeine fein but you didn't mind the bit. He always said the best therapy was warm drinks.

You nodded gratefully in response to Quinn's offer, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. As he rose from the couch, you watched him move with quiet admiration. There was a grace to his movements, a quiet confidence that spoke volumes without the need for words. It was moments like these that reminded you why you had been drawn to him in the first place, why his presence felt like a lifeline in the midst of uncertainty.

Lost in thought, you barely noticed as Quinn returned with two steaming mugs of coffee cradled in his hands. He settled back beside you, offering you gray Canucks mug with a small, knowing smile. You accepted it with a word of thanks, the warmth of the cup seeping into your fingertips.

Together, you sat in companionable silence, the only sound the quiet hum of the night outside and the occasional sip of coffee shared between you. You could feel Quinn's gaze on you after a few minutes and eventually, he spoke up.

"Are you done with him? For good?" Quinn's voice was gentle, yet tinged with a hint of envy. You could sense the weight of his question hanging in the air, the longing for reassurance mirrored in his eyes.

The honest answer was: you didn't know. You never knew, especially not with your boyfriend ─ no, ex boyfriend. You wanted to be done, you wanted to be out of the relationship that truly felt like a prison. But there was always that nagging doubt, that fear of the unknown that held you back from fully committing to moving on.

You struggled to find the words to explain the conflicting emotions that churned within you, torn between the want for freedom and the comfort of familiarity.

"I... I'm trying," you admitted, your voice shaky. "But you know how it is... it's complicated."

Quinn wanted to be angry, wanted to shout out at you and tell you that it would be okay. That he was there for you ─ that you never needed that cheating asshole you call a boyfriend. But he just couldn't, you looked broken already.

So he did what he knew how to do best, touch you. Gently, Quinn reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. Without another word, Quinn pulled you closer, enveloping you in the warmth of his embrace.

He pulled your chin up, for your eyes to meet his. He didn't say anything else, he just leaned in and planted a needy kiss on your red lips.

──

"I don't understand what the hell you mean," Nick's voice was bitter as he averted his gaze from your face. Your gaze was pleading ─ all you wanted was for him to have a shred of empathy, for him to understand you.

Before you could say another word, he threw his fork on the plate causing a loud noise to echo through your apartment. You flinched, the tears that were building in your eyes finally rolling down your cheeks.

"God, I can't even eat in peace anymore." Nick's voice was quiet but any less bitter. He finally met your eyes and you didn't see any empathy anymore, only anger.

You let out a shaky breath, squeezing your fists. "All I asked was for you to was for you to listen, to hear me out, to try to understand where I'm coming from."

"Understand, what exactly?" Nick scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain as he cut you off. "Understand your excuses? Your lies? Your betrayal? I'm tired of it, I'm tired of being the one who always has to bend over backwards to accommodate your feelings."

"My betrayal?" You responded, your hurt turning into anger. "My damn betrayal?! Me? You were the one who cheated on me, while we were together."

"What about Quinn, you think I don't know?" Nick glared at you with pure anger.

"What about Quinn?" You answered with the same tone, your voice tinged with defiance as you met Nick's glare.

"You think I don't know what's been going on between you two?" Nick shot back, his voice rising with each word. "I've seen the way you look at him, the way you act around him."

"I've never slept with him while we were together, Nick. Do you think I'm sick, like you? You've fucked every girl in Vancouver, you think I don't know?" Your voice cracked with the weight of your words.

The accusations hurled between you were like daggers, each one piercing through the fragile facade of your relationship, leaving behind a trail of devastation in its wake.

Nick's expression darkened at your retort. "Don't you dare turn this around on me," he spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "You're the one who's been lying to me, sneaking around behind my back."

You let out a bitter laugh and now it was your turn to throw the fork in the plate. You stood up from the seat, your heart racing with anger.

Standing up from your seat, you faced Nick with a fire burning in your eyes. "You accuse me of lying? Of sneaking around? Look in the damn mirror, Nick. You're the one who's been cheating, not me."

"You're the one who's been living a lie, Nick. Pretending to be something you're not, while sneaking around behind my back."

The words spilled from your lips in a torrent of pent-up emotion, each accusation a barb aimed squarely at the heart of the matter. You refused to back down, refusing to allow Nick to blame you for your relationship problems.

"I'm done." You grabbed your coat and purse, practically running out of the home. You pulled out your phone, shakily sending a text message.

i need you can i call you? please

He responded within a couple minutes and by then, you were almost at his house.

of course i'm home

──

In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of Quinn's lips pressing against yours, a desperate plea for you. As your lips met his, the weight of the world fell away, replaced by the intoxicating rush of desire that surged between you.

You let him take control, his hands roaming your body. He pushed you down softly, letting you fall back on the couch as he got on top of you. You were breathless as he pulled back from you, his lips pressing soft kisses on your neck.

He pulled your legs up so that you were straddling his waist, while your hands pulled on his ruffled-up hair. You let out soft whimpers as you let him kiss you and take care of you ─ the way Nick never did. His touch was soft, tender and sweet. Every touch was meaningful and filled with care and neediness.

He hadn't felt your touch in months and he was so needy, so desperate but he was still careful and soft. The way you liked, the way he knew Nick never treated you. "God, you're beautiful."

He mumbled softly against your neck, soft praises leaving his chapped lips. Quinn pulled off your shorts carefully, throwing them on the ground before he pulled off his sweatpants.

Wordlessly, you both stripped until you were both naked. He held you close to his chest as he let out a desperate groan, your arms around his shoulders to keep close as possible. He needed you so bad and you wanted to feel him inside of you, to feel him as close as physically possible.

He didn't waste any time, he pulled out his hardened member as slowly pushed into your already soaking hole. He held you close as he bottomed you out, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as a moan fell from your lips. God, how much he missed that sound.

He waited as you adjusted to his length before he began thrusting in and out of you, his movements became more desperate. His hands gripped your hips as he fucked into you, making his own desperate grunts.

You felt so full and you swore this was exactly where you wanted to be, always and forever. All thoughts of your problems were dissipated the moments his lips touched yours and it felt like now you were floating, you and Quinn in your own world. Lost in the warmth of Quinn, you surrendered yourself to the blissful oblivion of the present moment; you felt weightless, untethered from the burdens that had weighed you down.

As the world faded into the background, you allowed yourself to be consumed by the overwhelming tide of emotion that surged between you and Quinn.

And as quick as it started, you felt yourself come close. "Fuck, Quinn. I'm so close," you whined as Quinn grunted in response. He pulled your legs further up, pulling them on to his shoulders so he could you feel even deeper.

The new angle made the knot in your stomach snap unexpectedly, a guttural moan coming out of your mouth as your head fell back. You cried out, tears slipping from your eyes from the pure bliss you felt.

A few more deep thrusts and Quinn's seed was spilling into you, he fell onto your chest quickly. Both of you caught your breaths, your minds empty except for each other.

As you lay entwined in Quinn's embrace, a sense of calm washed over you and in that intimidate moment, you felt the fear of unknown slowly dissipate as you felt Quinn's arm held you close.

With each beat of your heart, the truth became painfully clear: Quinn was the only person who truly understood you, who accepted you for who you were, flaws and all. In his arms, you felt seen, heard, and loved in a way that no one else could ever compare to.

"I don't wanna lose you, never again." Your voice was hoarse and full of emotion. "Quinn, look at me."

As you spoke, your voice trembled with the weight of your emotions, raw and unfiltered. With a gentle touch of his chin, you urged Quinn to meet your gaze, your heart laid bare before him, vulnerable yet overflowing with love. In that moment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming need to express the depth of your love for him.

Quinn's gaze met yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and understanding. "I don't want to lose you either," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper yet filled with a fierce determination. "You mean everything to me."

There was a vulnerability in his words, a raw honesty that came from the depths of his heart. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew without a doubt that he loved you.

With a trembling hand, you reached out to brush away the tears that glistened in Quinn's eyes, your touch a silent promise of the love that burned brightly within your heart.

"I'm here," you murmured softly, your voice a whispered vow of commitment. "I'm not going anywhere."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[bluelockmaniac]

— ୨ৎ "TEDDY TITTY BEAR"

★ ft. toji x fem!reader 彡 wc: 0.6k

▯ notes. 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐲. fluff. slightly suggestive ending !

“my cute titty bear is back!” you yell excitedly, rushing towards toji and throwing your arms around his large body as he enters through the front door of your apartment. a cheeky smile etched its way across your face— one that he was all too familiar with.

he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes as he tries to pry you off him, amused. “your what?”

he's been through this before; it was not the first time you've appeared before him with nonsense leaving your pretty, impulsive mouth. yet, perhaps it was your peculiarities that he secretly found endearing.

“what do you mean, my what?” you ask, tipping your head to the side with innocent, wide eyes, peering up at him through your fluttering eyelashes. you repeat your words, that teasing grin of yours still stubbornly refusing to abandon your lips. “i said, you're my cute titty bear.”

“what the fuck is a titty bear?” he shakes his head in amusement as his hand absentmindedly moves behind his head to scratch his thick nape. “look, princess,” he continues, “i know this is one of y’weird outburst episodes, but seriously, you gotta stop—”

“nuh-uh, i’m not repeating this again,” you huff, feistily grabbing his huge hand and dragging him to the living room. 

this time, you were taking the lead and he was letting you. he was just slightly intrigued. what were you planning on getting yourself into now? there was no harm in entertaining your shenanigans just this once, he thought.

he follows you with a grin playing at his lips, then sprawls comfortably on the couch with his legs spread.

you smirk, quickly settling yourself warmly on his lap, legs straddling his waist as you assertively slam your palms against the backrest of the couch, one hand beside each of his shoulders, caging him in with your arms.

“oh?” he raises his brow, staring at your sly expression nonchalantly as one muscular arm encircles your waist, his other hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “don’t act so smug, princess. i still need an explanation, y’know?”

you hum softly, then, without warning, slide your hands up his chest, guiding them to either of his breasts and shamelessly squeezing them simultaneously.

“look.” squeeze. “at.” squeeze. “them!” squeeze. 

he flinches, inhaling sharply out of surprise as his mouth falls agape at your brazen stunt. sure, you’re undeniably crazy, and confident, but to boldly squish his chest with that mischievous grin dancing unashamedly on your lips? he had clearly underestimated you.

“girl,” his fingers gently gripping the soft flesh of your hips, his eyes wordlessly demanding answers. when you only giggle in response, he moves his hand to grip your chin, thumb dragging along your plump lips. “you’re insufferable.”

your eyes crinkle devilishly, “but you love me?”

“ya know it.” he grumbles, his voice soft as he holds your head and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to the corners of your lips.

“then can you take off your shirt pl—”

“no.”

“i need to see your—”

“no. perv.”

“but i wanna bite—”

he groans, his patience wearing thin, and without another word he silences you with a rough kiss on the lips, which predictably worked like a charm. “you’re crazier than me, y’know?”

you nod your head in response as pink creeps up your cheeks, “and you wouldn’t have it any other way, right?”

“i wouldn’t.” the two of you silently stare at each other for a few seconds. it was a comfortable silence— almost as if you both were falling in love for the first time again. almost.

“alright, enough,” he yawns loudly, interrupting the silence, the romantic atmosphere abruptly fading away. he stands up and throws you over his broad shoulder effortlessly, earning a squeaky gasp from you. “time to show this stuck-up princess what this titty bear can do, ‘kay?”

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒:

"h-hey, toji, calm your tits!"

"nah princess, you asked for this first."

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[ifyoucandaniel]

exactly one person asked and i’ve been DYING to make this, so here are all of my favorite long batman fanfics in general and for new readers @twisted-tales-told :)

cards on the table by @wesslan ! 69k, completed. this is one of my all time favorite fanfictions, it’s so funny and tim is a mastermind genius and a little liar <3 he basically pretends to be a fortune teller and gives scarily good predictions and advice by stalking the upper class and eventually gets involved with the batfam and has to maintain his lies while dealing with his issues :) 10/10, very found family, good angst, so much lying

Dark Matter by @mysterycyclone , 221k, ongoing. this is a batman fanfic rec, of course my bbg dark matter is going to be here <3 this is a MCUxDCU crossover where after infinity war (spoilers for that if you haven’t seen it!) peter parker gets sent to the DCU dimension with part of the soul stone and basically is haunted by the ghosts of the avengers while trying to survive in gotham and get back to his dimension. this is so well written i’ve read it at least three times, it’s still ongoing but trust me it is SO GOOD. i can’t properly describe it, but if you like spider-man and you are interested in batman, you’ll love.

Red is the Color of Sinners by @bluelotuswrites , series, 120k, ongoing, M. i want you to look me in my eyes when i tell you this is my favorite series on ao3. it is set after under the red hood and daredevil 3 where jason and matt meet in a church after jason loses his ability to speak following the events of UTRH. they keep running into each other both as matt and daredevil and eventually jason begins helping matt out with injuries and tech. it’s not finished yet, but there is something so compelling about their dynamic in this series as well as jason’s overall character and how he is portrayed. i’m a sucker for mute jason after UTRH and this series does so well giving him a fresh start and a place away from gotham to heal and build relationships. i cannot recommend enough.

buy back the secrets by @vinelark , 71k, ongoing, T. THIS!!! oh my god, so this is a timkon fic where kon still doesn’t know tim’s civilian identity, but whenever he’s in trouble tim calls for superboy which leads to them meeting without kon knowing. shenanigans ensure when kon starts spending more time with tim! it’s still ongoing but the author is currently working on the next part and it is so so worth the wait. chapter 4 ends on a cliffhanger though so be warned :))

Sales People Know (listening is the most important part) by Mayhem10, 77k, completed, T. this has the coolest urban magical realism ever. tim basically runs this magic shop that shows up places and people who need something find it in his shop :) it’s kinda a slow burn found family fic with magic themes and a smidge of angst!

Retrograde Motion by Lysical, 112k, completed, T. this is best de-aged kid fic ever. jason gets turned into a 7 year old and basically the outlaws, artemis and biz, join forces with the batfam to take care of him. but trust me when i say this is worth your time, it might sound tropey but in the best way possible!! and jason’s relationship with artemis is sooo important to me in this!

Hand in Unloveable Hand (a chokehold) by britishparty, 54k, completed, M. this is one of the best psychological torture/grooming fics i’ve ever read. pretty much what if while our taking photos of batman and robin, little tim gets kidnapped and black mask gets his hands on him and decides he’s the perfect size for a protege. years of psychological abuse and insane mind games ensue. also tim is a Badass™️

If He Had Come by bronwe_iris, 45k, completed, T. so i’m a little freak and i love the angst of arkham knight jason, but more specifically the aus where bruce saves jason before he becomes the arkham knight! this is an au where bruce finds jason and saves him from the joker after 9 months of torture and brings him home. focuses on his healing mentally and physically and rebuilding his relationship with his family

Banshee in a Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee), 43k, completed, T. veeeery good angst. basically what if tim couldn’t die? 43k of tim drake whump where he just dies a bajillion times and eventually his family notices <3

The Birds: Hatching a Family by Oceanera12, 81k, completed, T. this is like “what if the batkids weren’t adopted by bruce, but instead they were all foster siblings who can’t seem to stay out of gotham at night and batman happens to find them and decides obviously he can’t leave these kids to their own business, he has to stick his nose in it” and there’s some angst and heaps of found family

The Hellblazer’s Apprentice by @bluelotuswrites, 29k, ongoing, M. what can i say, im a simple woman, i love to see jason with literally any older male mentor :) basically in UTRH what if he took up an apprenticeship under constantine to learn magic to piss off batman! so good, i really love constantine so seeing him and jason interact in a long fic is so good. also ALL BLADES JASON TODD SAVE ME… ALL BLADES JASON TODD-

something in the static by bonerot19, 101k, ongoing series with three main completed works, T. this is a jason centric series where jason still lives in crime alley with his mom and dad and never stole the batmobile tires. it follows his life in crime alley with an addict mom and an abusive dad and one night when his dad is whaling on him nightwing finds him and the bats just can’t seem to leave him alone after that. steph is his neighbor and best friend also and their relationship is so good. this is a “what if jason took a different way home to the wayne’s” fic series and i love it so much <3

catch the asteroids that come your way by ThePackWantsTheD, 54k, completed, T. i don’t read a lot of ships in the batman fandom i’m sorry, but this kyle/jason one is sooo lovely. basically the two of them growing up together and falling in love and then dealing with the aftermath of A Death in the Family and finding each other again :) really sweet and nice!

hope you find something you like! i realized the majority of these are tim or jason centric, and i love them all dearly, but if anyone has any recs for long fics focusing on any of the other batkids lmk! and any other recs in general, i am a fiend for new fics

[rifari2037]

I found this thread on Twitter and it's so refreshing to know that Zutara fandom actually has strong allies.

Zuko - (my captain) Dante Basco

Katara - Mae Whitman

Sokka - Jack de Sena

Toph - Michaela Jill Murphy

Azula - Grey DeLisle

Uncle Iroh - Greg Baldwin

(even) Cabbage Man - James Sie

It's funny because this fact made me suddenly create a headcanon :

Of course Zuko and Katara shipping themselves, they fell in love with each other.

Then almost all the members of the Gaang except Aang (we don't know for sure about Suki) also ship Zutara because they know Zuko and Katara are secretly making out, while Aang denies it because well, you know why…

Sokka as Katara's brother approve their relationship!

Then Uncle Iroh, he must've ship Zutara since stubborn Zuko asked Katara to help him defeat Azula.

Uncle Iroh as father figure for Zuko definitely approve their relationship!

Azula shipped Zutara? She must've known that Katara meant a lot to Zuko, otherwise why would she direct the lightning at her? She know that either Katara would lose or Zuko would sacrifice himself for her.

I can say, that's the way Azula as Zuko's sister approve their relationship!

And the Cabbage Man. This time I didn't expect it. Maybe he really is a Zutara shipper. Maybe he was the one who told the Ember Island player director that the two of them had a special relationship? (I'm making things up this time) 😂😂

Okay, back to Zutara fandom who has strong allies from the ATLA writers too.

John O'Brian (the one who confirming that they talked about Zutara endgame in writing room)

Joshua Hamilton (the one who fight alongside John O'Brian to make Zutara endgame)

I'm sure the list won't end there

I also wont forget that Zutara fandom has great writers and artists with fanarts, fanfics, video edits, meta and analysis, etc., which makes Zutara never boring. Thanks to y'all 💙❤️

They did get canon, but I can still enjoy the victory!

[halsteadlover]

𝐀 𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐧

*Pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female!Reader.

• Requested by anon: Could you please write a derek Morgan x reader smut where the reader and derek and the team obvi are on a case and while interviewing neighbors in the apartments the reader makes a stupid bet like "I bet whoever lives here is a hot single bachelor in his 20s" and then it's the opposite and when they are back in the car derek makes the reader pay up but with her panties and when she goes to get them back at the end of the day it leads to smut.

• Warnings: a really brief mention of a murder case (it’s just a sentence), dirty talk, cuss words, making out, semi-public foreplay (f. receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up you guyssss!!)

• Word count: 5.5K

• A/N: my first Derek fic 😭 I hope you like it guys, please let me know what do you think about it and also comment, like and reblog, it’d mean the world. Sending lots of love to everyone ❤️

What part of your brain thought it was a good idea to make a bet with Derek Morgan?

You didn’t even know why you did it, it must’ve been the pleasure of losing because there was no way on earth you would’ve won.

You and Morgan were about to go interview a witness for a case you were working on: a serial killer who was killing his victims by setting fires. You were walking next to each other while you thought of some way to make what was going to be a long and boring afternoon, interesting.

You and Derek had a, well… Particular relationship, to say the least.

Months prior you and him had started to have sex. It started out as a purely physical thing as you had always been very attracted to each other, but as time went on you found yourselves spending time together and enjoying each other’s company even outside of a sexual sphere.

Your relationship, both from a working and private point of view, had always been characterized by a playful banter, mischievous jokes, by the constant flirting so it wasn’t strange you both often found yourselves making bets aimed to make lose the other’s mind.

In fact, it was at that moment that you came up with an idea for a bet, however forgetting he took them so seriously it seemed like his life depended on it, especially since most of the time he won, and the penances were of a sexual nature. Of course you didn’t mind losing one bit.

“I bet whoever lives here is a hot single bachelor in his twenties,” you said, pointing to the apartment where you were heading, ready to question the witness. He grinned and glanced at you, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Oh baby girl, you still don’t understand it’s a losing battle?”

“What’s the matter Agent Morgan, you afraid of losing?” You challenged him with the deliberate pleasure of teasing him and in fact he immediately gave in to your provocation.

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly in amusement. You arrived in front of the apartment door that had the number ‘23’ on its sign. You were standing facing each other while he thought about the penance, he would’ve make you do if you – most likely – lost.

Another evil, mocking grin appeared on his lips, and you immediately knew you were in trouble. “You’ll give me your panties when you lose.”

“If I lose.”

“When. But you can still back out.”

“Never.”

He held out a hand towards you but you didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed over your body from head to toe, checking you out without shame. Over time you had learned to understand what he was thinking, what was hidden behind his look and you almost caught fire because you immediately recognized that look, it was the one he gave you when he was imagining you naked in every possible and imaginable position.

And in fact, you weren’t wrong.

Just the thought of having your panties in his pocket, walking around and smelling you, was enough to make his dick stir in his pants.

You knew the odds of you winning the bet were slim, but your competitive nature made you shake Morgan’s hand, and he gave you another one of his panty-ripping smiles.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, don’t take the victory for granted.”

He raised his hands in surrender, chuckling. “I would never dare but be realistic darling. Do you know how low the odds are?”.

“What if I win?”.

“You won’t.”

“What if I win?” You repeated, crossing your arms over your chest.

He shrugged, very sure he’d win. “You’ll choose the penance.”

You thought about it for a moment and a mischievous smile appeared on your lips this time. “I’ll do a strip tease and a lap dance.”

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “How is that a penance? Baby I’d drop on my knees right now to make this happen...”

“…But you’ll be handcuffed, you won’t be able to touch me and I won’t make you come.”

He opened his mouth wide, feeling his dick twitch just at the thought. He had to force himself to think of something else since he didn’t want to question a witness with a raging hard on but it was awfully difficult when all he could do was imagine you strip teasing and grinding on his lap. “Fuck I don’t know if I should win or lose.”

“If you want to end up with blue balls then you have to hope to lose.”

You knocked on the apartment door, still maintaining eye contact with Derek and trying to hold back your laughter since you knew exactly what he was thinking. You took your eyes away from him only to let them travel down his body and to the crotch of his pants which was clearly prominent at that moment. You bit your lip as you looked back at his face and he glared at you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered, feeling the situation getting even worse. Damn it, he felt like a damn horny teenager.

Before you could respond to his comment the door opened, revealing a person who couldn’t be more different from the object of your bet. He in fact was a she, a lady who couldn’t have been less than sixty years old.

Your smile dropped as the one on Derek’s face grew even more and, as you had already said, you wondered what part of your brain had thought it was a good idea to make that bet.

“Good morning. Can I help you?” she looked skeptically at both of you.

“Oh yes ma’am, you just made my day so much better,” he replied softly but glancing at you. “We’re FBI agents, may we ask you few questions?”

Over the next hour and a half you interviewed other witnesses near the fire scene and on your way to the car, Derek wouldn’t stop trying to get close to you and touch you.

“Derek stop it! We’re in public! God you’re so unprofessional,” you slapped one of his hands away that had been squeezing your ass for the last couple of minutes, trying not to laugh.

“There’s nothing professional about what we do, baby girl,” he replied with mock annoyance, “Plus I can’t help it, I can’t wait to rip your panties off.”

“Nuh uh mister, the deal was that I have to give you my panties not you taking them off me.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes as you approached the car but before you could get in he grabbed your hand and turned you towards him. He placed his hands on your face and as he pushed your back against the car door he crushed his lips on yours.

He didn’t care about passers-by in any way, in people’s eyes you might have looked like a couple who was passionately making out.

After the first few seconds of surprise, you immediately kissed him back, parting your lips and letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. You knew it was totally unprofessional to kiss your colleague in broad daylight while you were doing your job but all it took was for him to get close for you to lose your mind, no longer able to think clearly.

Your hands moved down his chest to encircle his waist, trying to pull him closer to you than his body already was. Your mouths moved in sync while he seemed to want to suck his soul out of you and although you were now used to kissing him, every time it was as if it was the first.

You almost moaned into the kiss, your body already on fire, wanting more. You wanted him so badly, you wanted his hands, his fingers, his mouth and his tongue all over you.

“Derek please…” you sighed when you broke away, his face still dangerously close to yours.

“Get in the car princess,” he ordered and his voice was so low and seductive that if he had asked you to give him a blowjob right there on the sidewalk you would’ve dropped on your knees without the slightest hesitation.

He opened the door for you and you giggled like a teenager before getting in, thanking him as you watched him walk around the car before getting in too.

“I would’ve fucked you in the car here and now if we weren’t in public. You’re so fucking hot baby,” he whispered against your lips after moving closer to you and taking your chin between his fingers. “But I’ll settle taking your panties off for now.”

He placed a hand on your breast and groped it before sliding it across your stomach to your jeans-covered pussy. You moaned as he began to touch you, making you squirm under his expert fingers.

“I bet you’re already wet, aren’t you honey?” He continued to tease you.

“Fuck Derek… They’ll see us…”

“You’re right,” he replied, stopping touching you, causing you to moan and grunt at the same time. “No one should look at what is mine.”

God Derek Morgan and the things he made you feel. You were starting to really hate him.

“You’re having so much fun aren’t you?”

He started the car but not before throwing you one last mocking and sexy as hell grin. “You have no idea how much.”

You squeezed your legs together in anticipation feeling the urge and desire grow more and more. You continued to look at him as he drove, observing every feature of his perfect profile with your hungry eyes.

How could someone be so perfect?

And it didn’t help he had one hand resting on your inner thigh as his thumb was stroking dangerously close to your intimate area. You didn’t know whether to hate him, to beg him to go higher or both but certainly the smug expression on his face made you want to punch him.

Derek drove to a hidden, dead end road, not caring the rest of the team was probably waiting to hear from both you and him.

He kissed you breathless again, threading a hand into your hair. But he didn’t stay there for long as he moved down your chest again, wasting no time in groping your breasts again, until he reached your pussy again.

“God Derek you’re driving me crazy,” you hissed as you struggled to keep control. He kissed you again and unbuttoned your pants and you lifted your hips before your brain could even process the movement, allowing him to slide them down your thighs. You took off your shoes, slipping your pants off.

He slipped his hands into your underwear and a loud moan escaped your lips that Derek felt right in his dick. “As I imagined… So fucking wet.”

“Fuck yes just like that,” you sighed as his fingers drew circles on your clit. You gripped the sides of the seat as if searching for a leverage, pleasure flowing through your veins.

He knew where to touch you, he knew HOW to touch you, what to do to make you lose your mind and control.

“I'm dying to taste this pussy, look at you soaking up my fingers,” he whispered in your ear, pressing his lips to your neck and sucking on your skin but being careful not to leave any marks. The team already didn’t give you any respite suspecting there was something between you, he certainly didn’t want to give them clear proof.

Two of his fingers slipped easily inside your wet pussy, curling inside you and touching that spongy spot that made you moan and thinking you were about to ascend to heaven.

“Yes, yes, oh god yes,” you kissed him, spreading your legs even more to give him more access.

“You like that don’t you? My pretty girl loves being so dirty, letting me finger this pussy in public.”

You dipped your head back in pleasure, feeling the orgasm already building inside you.

He pulled his fingers out and you grunted at the loss and took off your panties, bringing them to his nose and deeply inhaling the scent that drove him so crazy: you and sex. “Now I really don’t know how I’m going to go through the whole day without being hard knowing I have your panties here,” he spoke up as he stuffed them into his pocket. “We should go back.”

What?

“Derek you can’t leave me like this!”.

“Oh I can’t and I will, we shouldn’t let the others think we might be doing something shouldn’t we?”

“You fucking piece of shit.”

He burst out laughing and you nearly punched him in his handsome face.

You were furious. Irritated.

You were furious, irritated but above all horny.

After that little stunt he had done in the car Derek had really left you like that, without an orgasm and with a mad desire to fuck.

The rest of the day was torture, especially having to work with other people while pretending you didn’t feel like you were on the edge the whole time. You didn’t spare Morgan some dirty looks after which he had to force himself not to laugh but he didn’t spare you those languid looks full of lust either.

It wasn’t easy for you but it wasn’t easy for him either since, unlike you, couldn’t hide his excitement so easily. Knowing he had your panties in his pocket and the memory of your wet pussy were giving him no respite.

In reality, you both loved that little game, teasing and torturing each other until the other lost his mind, even if… To be honest, wearing jeans without underwear was complete torture.

At the end of the day, when you were finally all in your own room, you took the opportunity to take a shower and put on a dress and the sexy lingerie you had put in your bag before leaving for the new case.

You giggled just thinking about Derek’s reaction.

You went to his room, knocking twice before he opened the door making your jaw drop and almost fall to the floor when you realized he was naked and only had a towel around his waist.

His body was still wet, sign he had just gotten out of the shower, the drops running down his sculpted chest that you wanted to lick off one by one.

“Oh man…” He sighed. “You’re breathtaking baby,” he began, shamelessly scanning your body from head to toe, a smirk on his lips. “I was wondering when you were coming.”

“You always opening the door like this, Agent Morgan?” You asked ironically before entering his room without even waiting for him to invite you.

“Woah woah woah, where do you think you’re going baby girl? Where is my kiss?” He scolded you, almost truly offended after closing the door behind him.

You giggled, but unable to take your eyes off his body and stop them from wandering hungrily over his figure.

“No, dry yourself first and then I���ll kiss you,” you replied before going to sit on the edge of the bed, placing your hands behind you on the mattress and tilting your head slightly as you looked at him.

He didn’t answer but came closer to you and placed two fingers on your chin, forcing you to lift your head and pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss that took the air out of your lungs.

“Jealous Agent Y/Ln?” He whispered an inch from your lips, referring to your initial question after making you get up from the bed.

“Not even a little bit, it was just an innocent question agent Morgan.”

Absolutely. You were 100% jealous.

But you knew from the way the corner of his mouth lifted in a twisted, mischievous smile he didn’t believe it one bit. “You know, being a profiler I thought you were better at hiding emotions. Lies don’t look good on you pretty girl.”

“That would be true if I had told a lie but that’s not the case, I’m not jealous at all,” you said with a confident tone as your gaze alternated between his eyes and his lips. He was so close and so tempting you felt like you were already losing patience.

“To answer the question, no, I don’t answer to anyone. Just you.”

“You? Derek Morgan?”.

He chuckled. “Strange right? But it seems like you’ve done some weird witchcraft on me because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“You already got in my pants, no need to be cheesy,” you retorted, biting your lip to keep from smiling.

He sighed, slightly shaking his head. “Always so cynical. What should I do with you?”

“Give me back my panties?”.

He raised an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten what the word ‘lose’ means?”.

“If I had known you liked them so much I would’ve bought you a new pair to wear you know.”

“You think you’re so funny don’t you?”. He grabbed your face with one hand, his mouth dangerously close to yours but never touching it.

You nodded with a smirk as you watched as his eyes were fixed on your lips. “Maybe you might like what I have now better.”

You took a step back and the look of pure confusion on his face was replaced by astonishment when he saw your hands lower the thick straps of your dress down your arms, then lowering the side zip and letting the dress fall around your feet.

The look of shock on his face was something you’d never forget.

Derek widened his mouth and eyes, letting his hungry gaze travel along your body wrapped in lace lingerie, studying every curve and inch of your skin. A warm feeling spread in your lower abdomen and it was amazing how just the way he looked at you was enough to turn you on.

“Holy shit…” he breathed out, “You… Are… You… Holy fuck…” he continued stuttering, unable to form a single meaningful sentence.

“Wow did I really manage to surprise Agent Morgan?” You giggled, your cheeks flushed and stomach filled with fluttering butterflies, knowing you had such an effect on him. Derek Morgan – the man who with a single smile and a look could’ve make rows and rows of women fall at his feet – was drooling over you, looking at you like you were the eighth wonder of the world.

“I’ll answer you when some blood returns to my brain.”

Your gaze trailed down his body and your insides clenched at the sight of his prominent erection beneath the towel around his waist. Your mouth watered just thinking about what was underneath that single fabric, imagining his dick in your mouth, in every hole in your body as he filled you completely.

“You look spectacular Y/n, my god” he murmured, his chocolate brown eyes still on your body and never on your face. You could see him struggling in not knowing what to pay more attention to, your breasts which were perfectly highlighted by the lace that gave that see-through effect while it showed the shadow of your nipples, if the hold-ups that surrounded your thighs that Derek wanted nothing more than to mark and bite or your pussy also covered in matching lace in which he wanted to dive and feed on it until he drown himself to death.

Derek moved closer to you, closing the small distance between the two of you. “Turn around. Show me this beautiful ass that torments me in my sleep.”

The tone of his voice alone made you almost beg him to do anything he wanted. You didn’t have to be told twice and you turned around, your skin on fire as you felt his penetrating gaze on you as he observed and studied every millimeter of your body.

You heard Derek exhale a deep breath behind you. “A fucking goddess. You’re absolutely mesmerizing.”

A rush of shivers gave you goosebumps as he placed his rough hands on your arms, stroking them slowly before moving up and moving your hair from your shoulders and letting it fall along your shoulder blades, leaving your neck exposed. His lips began to plant kisses on your skin and the mere contact made you sigh and tilt your head to the side, giving him more access.

“Do you have any idea how crazy you drive me?” he whispered in your ear and you clenched your hands into fists, pressing your nails into your palms in an attempt to release the frustration you felt. Every second that passed while he didn’t touch you as you wanted there was a shred of your sanity that was shattered.

You shook your head, realizing you hadn’t answered yet.

His hands went down your arms again, then moving up your hips until they reached your ass. You let out a gasp when his fingers tightened around the flesh of your ass, squeezing it, groping it with the sole purpose of torturing you and leaving you eager for more.

“God the things I want do to you baby, you can’t even imagine.”

“Do it Derek, do whatever you want to me… I need you.”

“I love feeling you so desperate for me.”

An empty feeling came over you as his fingers let go of your ass, moving to your hips. However, you moaned when he pushed his body against yours, pressing his erection against the curves of your ass and grinding against you without shame or restraint.

“Fuck Derek,” you murmured, now on the verge of losing your mind.

One of his hands ended up around your throat, forcing you to bend your head and rest it on his shoulder while the other cupped one of your breasts, palpating it over the top of your bra. You sighed, rubbing your ass against his hard dick as you couldn’t wait for it to stretch your pussy.

“That’s what you do to me, you make me so hard I can’t even think straight anymore.” He pinched your hard nipple from above the fabric. “You have no idea how much I want to rip this off of you but I know you’d kill me,” he chuckled in your ear.

“I don’t give a shit.” You blurted out, not evens embarrassed about how fast you said it.

“What do you want baby? Talk to me.”

God it was so damn hard talking when you were so horny you couldn’t even remember your name, the denied orgasm making things worse.

“You. Fuck me, please. I need you so badly Derek.”

He tightened his hand lightly around your neck, cupping your chin then turning your head towards him and before you knew it he slammed his lips onto yours, sucking the breath from your body as his tongue explored your mouth in a sloppy, deep kiss.

He slowly slid the fingers of his other hand – that until a few seconds before were on your breast – along your chest, your lower abdomen, touching your needy and drenched pussy with his fingertips. You whined during the kiss, spontaneously lifting your hips to try and meet his fingers.

God you were hating him at that moment.

“I can smell your wetness from here, is my baby horny for me?” he whispered on your lips swollen and red from the impetuous kiss.

“I’ll fucking kill you right now Morgan I swear to god.”

He laughed and your stomach clenched in on itself. “Don’t worry baby, I’m here. I’m going to fuck your brains out, so good you won’t even be able to get up when I’m done with you.” This time it was your pussy that clenched when you squeezed your legs together for some friction. Derek let go of your throat and began to play with your panties. Your breath hitched as he slowly began to lower them, trailing them down your legs.

“I think I’ll keep these too,” he whispered even as his voice came loud and clear to your ears. You turned your head to the side so you could look at him and let out a ragged sigh when you saw him kneeling behind you. His eyes shone under the light of the hotel room as they looked at you with so much intensity that they alone would’ve been enough to set you on fire.

He left a kiss on your ass, making you gasp to the point of embarrassment as he bit your skin and groped your now bare ass. “One day I’ll fuck this pretty little ass too and you’ll love every second of it.”

“You can start by fucking my pussy now.”

He chuckled again as he stood up. He placed a hand on your heated back, inviting you to lean on the bed in front of you and you obeyed, resting your hands on the bed and giving him a perfect view of your ass.

“I can see from here how wet you are baby girl,” he moved closer to you, his bare thighs touching yours and then you realized he had removed the towel from his waist.

God have mercy on me.

“I’ll eat this beautiful pussy later but now all I can think about is fucking her so good,” he said as his fingers brushed against you and this little contact, combined with his dirty words, made you squirm with anticipation. “After all, you deserve it after being such a good girl all day.”

You felt him place his tip near your entrance and you both moaned as he slid his dick against your folds, wetting it with your fluids. He provoked you, tortured you with every motion, it was what he was best at, he knew which points to touch to drive you crazy and leave you painfully longing.

“Derek please, I want you so much,” you whined in a pathetic tone full of lust and desire as he continued to penetrate you with just the tip and then pull out. You hated him and wanted him at the same time, so much it hurt.

“What do you want, princess?” His hands gripped your hips and he leaned over you, pressing his lips to your skin before leaving damp, wet kisses all over your back.

“Fuck me.”

“Fuck,” he hissed through gritted teeth before lining his dick up with your entrance and finally filling you.

“Oh God yes, you feel so god Derek.” You panted vigorously, your heart beating so hard it almost stopped as you felt his soft and especially bare skin touching every corner of you.

He remained still for a few moments, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to maintain control of his body. You were so wet and it felt so good being inside you, Derek feared that with just one push he would’ve come on the spot.

“Baby please… Move…”

Baby.

Fuck.

That simple little word had no business making his insides twist like he had. You were used to calling each other nicknames, it wasn’t new, but there was something in that ‘baby’ you said: perhaps it was the vulnerability with which you pronounced it, breathless and as if he was the only one who could save you, the way your voice was so full of desire.

Derek pulled out before thrusting into you again with a strong thrust so deep if it hadn’t been for his hands firmly gripping your hips you would’ve probably fallen forward.

“You have no idea what you do to me, fucking hell you drive me crazy,” he breathed out, head tilted back and eyes closed as his dick pounded into you like he was angry.

You tried to formulate a meaningful sentence but as you opened your lips only gasps and moans came out. He was fucking you so deeply that with each thrust you felt a piece of your brain coming out of your head and your soul out of your body.

Exactly like he promised.

All the hidden frustration made its way and exploded like a time bomb, not much time passing until even the orgasm began to build inside you.

Your face was pressed into the sheets of the bed, your breathing heavy and quickening as your hands clenched the fabric into a fist. “Derek…” you whimpered in pleasure as you pushed your pelvis towards him with each thrust. It didn’t seem to be enough though, you wanted more and more.

One of his hands continued to hold your hips firmly while he slid the other along your back, until he reached your hair which he tightened in a fist forcing you to lift your head. His moans and groans sounded like music to your ears and you couldn’t contain the joy of knowing it was you who made him feel this way, it was you who made him lose control.

“Fuck I could stay inside you forever, you take me so well. This pussy was made for me,” he groaned as the tip of his dick hit your G-spot, making you see stars. You wanted to answer but when you opened your mouth all that came out were moans and sighs. “Just for me… You understand?”

“Just you baby, only you,” you babbled while loudly moaning, not caring one bit if someone could hear you having sex.

His lips kissed your shoulder, his tongue traced every inch of skin he could reach. “That’s right pretty girl…” he groaned in your ear, his sentence interrupted by another moan. “Fuck yeah you’re mine.”

“Holy shit baby… I’m about to come…” You managed to say and the orgasm that hit you full on like a truck gave you no mercy, didn’t let you escape as it sucked away your ability to breath. If it wasn’t for Derek’s hand still in your hair you would’ve collapsed on the mattress.

His thrusts became unhinged, even more out of control than they were before and it didn’t take long for him to reach his climax too. How could he resist? There was no chance, not when your pussy was tightening around his dick in the throes of orgasmic spasms, leaving him no escape.

Derek exploded inside you, emptying himself into you until the last drop of his seed filled your pussy, then leaking from your entrance and sliding down your thighs as he pulled out.

“Shit,” he breathed as you felt the weight of the mattress dip as he collapsed next to you. “You destroy me baby, how do you manage to do this every single time?”

You mumbled something nonsensical in response, eyes closed and too tired to say anything. He chuckled and stroked your hair, brushing it away from your face so he could get a good look at you.

You were so beautiful, ethereal, so mesmerizing it hurt and seeing that happy and pleased look on your face almost sent him to his knees, internally promising himself he’d fight every single person on earth just to always see you so relaxed and happy.

“How many women do you tell this?” you managed to say, opening one eye and keeping the other closed and a flock of butterflies exploded in your stomach when you saw the breathtaking smile he was looking at you with.

“If you think there is someone capable of making me feel what you feel, you’re very wrong. Like I already said, I don’t know what strange witchcraft you did to me but you really hooked me baby.” He propped himself up on one elbow and leaned towards you, pressing small kisses across your face, neck, shoulders and all the way up to your lips. “There is no one else since you came in in my life, I’m so obsessed with you it’s not even funny.”

You opened your second eye too, suddenly not so tired anymore. “Really?”

“Why, isn’t the same for you?” he asked, his stomach clenched with jealousy at the thought of a man laying a finger on you. “Please tell me no or someone help me I will kill every man who even looked at you, I’m an FBI agent and I know how to hide dead bodies in such a way that not even the families will ever find them.”

You burst out laughing, and rolled onto your back before throwing your arms around his neck so you could bring him closer to you and press your lips to his. “Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”

“Y/n. Don’t fucking test me.”

“I’m just kidding,” your lips brushed against his before planting another small kiss on them. “There couldn’t be another man even if they forced me, you’ve really messed up my life Agent Morgan and I’m pretty much obsessed with you too.”

“That better be. We’re exclusive since the day I kissed you in that elevator,” he grumbled. “God I love when you call me baby,” he then sighed happily and the way his mood shifted so quickly made. Your fingers caressed his soft, perfect skin and he mumbled with contentment. You noticed how his pupils were so dilated the chocolate surrounding them had almost disappeared. “Mine, only mine.”

“And you’re mine darling, I’m an FBI agent too and I know a thousand ways to make deaths look like accidents.” He pressed his lips to yours again, kissing you so deeply your heart almost stopped in your chest.

Derek Morgan would be the death of you, you were certain of that.

“Just give me five more minutes and I’ll show you how much we belong to each other princess, how much I look, think and breathe for you only.”

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[formula1blog]

Carlos Sainz 55- spending time

Carlos Sainz x Fem!Reader

Summary: you and your boyfriend finally have a day to yourselves. You want to make the most out of it.

Wc: 2,8k

Warning: lots of nicknames, translated Spanish, Some smutt at the end MDI!

DON'T USE MY WORK PLEASE

It was one of those days when you and your boyfriend both had the day off. It didn't happen often. Carlos was always traveling or training for the next race. He was on the other side of the globe most of the time. Being a personal stylist yourself and having your own mode magazine didn't leave you with a lot of spare time. You traveled a lot in the fashion season, attending shows and even walking some yourself. The thing was that when you had to travel, Carlos was home and vice versa. Of course you both visited each other at your work, supporting each other career. But both of you having free time was rare, so this was a special day. 

This is how you found yourself in bed cuddled up against the chest of your Spanish boyfriend. You sun had woken you up because you had forgotten to close the curtains after last night's encounters. Both of you hadn't moved to close them, to wrapped up in each other's embrace. Your finger was painting circles on his bare chest as his hand went to massage your head. "This is nice." Carlos whispered, echoing your own thoughts as you both basked in the peacefulness of the morning. The world outside seemed to fade away, forgotten in the midst of your shared connection and the desire to simply be together. You knew you wanted to spend some time outside of your home today and for that you had to get up. 

"We can go out for breakfast. I fancy some tortilla Espanola." You look up at your boyfriend, the corners of your mouth moving up in a smile. Carlos returned your smile, his eyes twinkling with warmth and affection as he leaned in to place a sweet kiss on your head. "Just give me a couple of minutes, mi vida. Then we can head out," he promised, his voice filled with tenderness and love. You hum in response. Carlos's fingers continued to weave through your hair, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine as you fought the urge to drift back to sleep. You didn't want to 'waste' this day together by laying in bed all day. You wanted to make the most of every moment spent in each other's company.

Eventually you both got out of bed. Your Dior slip on dress had moved a bit in your sleep, your side boob hanging out. "We can also just take it off completely." Carlos tucked on the dress a mischievous smile on his lips. Before he could take it off you slap his hand away. "You have to waite till tonight cariño. I want to go for breakfast first." he groans in response way too eager for your love right now. You laugh at him as you walk towards the bathroom. It had been your routine that Carlos would make you both a cup of coffee as you went to get dressed. After that you could pack as he took a shower. So that was exactly what you were both doing right now.

Carlos was sitting in the kitchen making two cups of coffee as he heard you singing in the other room. He smiled to himself. He really won in life with you. You walk out of the bathroom in only your blouse looking around for your necklace that you couldn't find. Carlos followed you with his eyes, sometimes looking down at your but. When he noticed that you were looking for something he stood up and went to stand behind you. Putting his hands in your waist he asks "What are you looking for?" You turn around facing him and look up to see in his eyes. His gorgeous big brown puppy eyes. "One of my Vivienne Westwood necklaces. The one that you got me. I don't know where I put it. "

"I got you lots of those." You were obsessed with her jewelry line and he just had to give you everything you looked at for more than one second. You had quite the selection of her stuff. "I know you did. I am forever grateful for that even if I tell you that you don't need to get me those." He shrugs his shoulders knowing he would buy you another right now. "The Valentina Pendant. Have you seen it?" 

"Is that how you are going out." Carlos asks with a smile on his face as he looks at you still not wearing a skirt. A confused look appeared on your face thinking he didn't like what you were wearing before you saw that your legs were still bare of any clothes. 

He did indeed see it a couple minutes ago. He lets go of your waist much to your own disliking and walks to the coffee table. The necklace was laying on top of the current book you were reading. He picked it up and walked back to you. He moved your hair to the side and put it around your neck. "Thank you." You turn around and stand on your tip toes to give him a kiss. He pulls you right back when you want to leave. His hands had moved down to your ass, squishing it a bit. You smile into the kiss and you almost give in to him. "Not now, Carlos. We have things to do. Go get ready!" 

"Alright" He sighs. "There is coffee for you on the counter." He kisses your head and walks towards the other room. You thank him and grab your drink. Sitting down on one of the chairs you check your mail for any important news. You saw a new invitation for a fashion show and some questions about collaborating. You put them unread not wanting to answer them right away. You put your empty cup into the sink, also cleaning up after Carlos who hadn't yet cleaned up his stuff.

You ran back to the bedroom and walked out, this time wearing the skirt you wanted to wear. You checked if you had everything in your bag before walking out of the apartment. 

You walk hand in hand through the busy streets of Madrid. Even though you had moved in by Carlos two years ago, the city never disappointed you.

You can't help but smile as he pulls out a chair for you to sit and you exchange warm glances. His efforts to showcase the beauty and charm of Spain never go unnoticed, but you playfully resist admitting that it is indeed the best country. 

Carlos leans in closer, a playful glint in his eyes. "Come on, admit it. You know Spain is the best," he teases, nudging you gently.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Maybe it's pretty great, but I'll never say it's better than my home country."

The waiter approaches, interrupting your conversation, and you both place your orders. The suspense of your upcoming show hangs in the air as you share with Carlos that you received an email about a performance.

"So, when's the show? I can't wait to see you up there, shining on stage," he says with a grin, his eyes full of admiration.

"I still need to check the details. Don't want it to clash with any plans," you reply, a warm feeling of gratitude for his support. He nods his head agreeing with your statement. 

As you sit at the cozy, sunlit table outside your favorite cafe in Madrid, you can't help but reflect on the memories you have made in this vibrant city. Three years back you were here on a holiday with a couple of friends. That was the moment that you met the man in front of you. The love of your life. You had gotten lost in the crowded streets and asked a stranger for directions. He walks you towards your destination and gave you his phone number. You hadn't sent him a message right away, scared that he may be a creep. Your friends had convinced you after they heard you say his name. They knew he wasn't a creep. He is your future husband. 

You both look up by the sound of the waiter approaching your food. You take the food and thank him before turning back to your conversation. 

"I cleared by schedule for next week so I can come to Imola with you." You say and take a bite from your tortilla Espanola. His face lights up as you mention it. "Really? I already have a paddock pass for you. You are going to bring me luck." You smile at him. It had been some time since you were in the paddock. You really hated yourself for not being there so often as other wags. They all have their own jobs and they still managed to visit their boyfriends. 

After your brunch you walk through some shops. Carlos had bought a new suit for an upcoming event he had to attend. You had bought a matching dress for the event and a new top for next race weekend. 

Right now you were walking in a Victoria Secret and were looking at some new lingerie sets. The last two were broken after some fun activities you had done with Carlos. "What about this one." He shows the set to Carlos. It was a blue one, with lace trim and a little heart on the nipple coverage.

"It is beautiful, just like all these others you have chosen." He sat admiring you in every piece. He was already carrying some of the sets you had picked out and you disliked the idea of him having to waite much longer so you got dressed in your own clothes. When you got out of the changing room Carlos had already paid for everything and was carrying your bags. When you asked for them he just gave you his hand and walked out of the shop. 

"You didn't have to pay for that. I got my own money." 

"What kind of boyfriend would I be to let you pay. Everything you want i will get it for you, mi amor." He kisses your cheek. You blush at his words. "What if I wanted to get a special limited edition car that cost way too much." 

"Then I get it for you. Do you have anything in mind right now. I know that you want a Porsche. I can get it for you. Or a Ferrari, I personally really like those." He jokes in the last sentence. 

It was getting late and you were walking back. "Want to get some ice cream?"Carlos asks as he points towards a Gelato shop. 

"Won't your trainer disapprove?" You ask, knowing that ice cream isn't part of his training and dieting schedule. You are pretty sure it is somewhere at the bodem, just under all other delicious food.  "What he doesn't know doesn't hurt him. Lets go." He takes your arm and together you walk to the shop. The line isn't too long and you can already order after five minutes. 

"I love ice cream." You lick your cone. You had gotten a cone with pistache and white chocolate. You always take the same, can't go wrong with pistache. It is the best. Carlos had a cone with a vanilla scoop. A bit basic, but always delicious too. 

Carlos was still carrying your bags so he couldn't take your hand for the rest of the walk home. You had tried multiple times to ask to hand over your bags, but he just shrug and walked further.

You had stopped and took a picture of the sunset. While you were doing that Carlos took pictures of his sunset, You. For him you are the most beautiful thing in this universe. When you were done it didn't take long to reach your apartment. 

He opens up the door for you to walk through and you find yourself back in your home. You go to sit on a chair and take off your heels. "Finally free." Carlos shakes his head. He knows that those heels go and hurt your feet after more than one hour and still you refuse his suggestion to wear more comfortable shoes. 

Carlos walks towards the bathroom and you take this as your cue to run to your bedroom. You grab your Victoria secret bag and take out one of the sets that you had just bought. Carlos hadn't seen this one yet. It was a red piece with little coverage. You put it on and admire yourself in the mirror. You hoped he liked it. 

You heard the door open again and you went to place yourself on the bed. "Carlos, can you come here real quick?" You say as his footsteps get closer. You see him stop right in his tracks as his eyes stop you. "Mierda, eres tan Hermosa." he breathes out as he walks closer to you. He goes to sit on the bed and you lock eyes. His hand grabs your chin as he moves your head closer to his. Your lips touch into a deeply kiss as a soft moan escapes his lips. You move yourself onto his lap. 

You start to move your hips into his and Carlos groans at the sudden movement against his dick. The bulge in his pants was growing with each movement that you made. A moan leaves your mouth at the growing feeling under you. His lips attach to your neck as his hands move you closer to him. He leaves a trail of kisses down to your breast before staying in one place which was definitely going to leave a mark tomorrow. Your finger tucks on his shirt mentioning it that it has to go off. "It isn't fair that you are still wearing all of your clothes." He removes one of his hands from your ass and takes off his shirt. 

You go from his lap to help him with his belt. You stroke your hand over his throbbing area, this time a louder moan leaves his mouth and it sounds like heaven to you. Tonight the neighbors won't be getting any sleep.  You go further down the bed as Carlos takes of his pants leaving him in only his underwear. He towers over you both hands on either side of your head. He leans back down to place a kiss on your lips. You gasp as his hands move up your leg towards your wetness. He slips in his tongue when your mouth opens. "So needy for me already." He says as his fingers stroke over you pussy. The thin fabric of the lingerie doesn't do too much as you feel yourself asking for more. "Please, Carlos. I need you to touch me. "

He smirks. He pulls down your panties. He puts in one finger helping your adjust to it a bit before adding another. He keeps kissing you as he starts pumping his finger into your pussy. Moans leave your mouth as he takes up the speed. "So beautiful. So loud and all for me."He leaves a kiss between your breast. Your riding his fingers had been something you looked forward to since this morning. He feels you getting closer around his fingers and he takes them out just before you reach your climax. You groan in frustration as you feel empty. "Why?" You cry out. He places another kiss to make it up. "I want you to come all over my cock, princessa."

He takes off his underwear and his already hard cock  springs out. You moan at the sight of it. "Please, just fuck me. " He puts his dick by  your entrance moving it a bit up and down. Your hand fly in to his hair pulling in frustration. You need him now.

He enters you and fills you up. Pain went over you but it was fast replaced with pleasure as he began to move in and out of you. Your hands grab the duvet under you  and the feeling of pleasure goes over you. "Papi, faster" You scream out. Carlos didn't mind if everyone heard you. Right now was all about love. He picks up his pace and your eyes roll into the back of your mind. You feel a familiar knot forming in your belly and you know you are close "Don't stop, please I am so close." He feels himself getting closer to his own orgasm as you tighten around him. He goes a bit faster and you back arches. Heavy panting is heard as you both come riding out  your orgasms. 

Carlos catches his breath before sliding out of you an empty feeling leaving you behind. He walks to the bathroom and gets a wet towel. He helps clean you up and places a kiss on your mouth. " I love you, mi vida." He lays next to you and you put your head on his chest. " I love you too."

[lovelybrooke]

Letters Never Sent (Yandere Malleus x Reader)

---

A letter wrote by Malleus Draconia, never sent to the object of his desires. Why don't you open it up and see what's inside...

masterlist

---

Dear My Child of Man,

I am writing this letter with no intention of you receiving it. 

Maybe this is "silly" as you would describe it, but I find myself slowly losing the restraint on my emotions as the days go by. My heart fills with unfamiliar feelings as I think of you, mixing together into an ever present sense of desire that makes me near shameful. 

I find myself thinking of you always, from the moment I wake, to the moment I fall asleep. You seep your way into my dreams, where for but a moment I can relish in the fantasy that is you. I dream of your soft voice, your comforting gaze, your addicting presence. You are so captivating that I often forget I'm dreaming, until I awake with an aching feeling I've come to know as longing. 

I long for you, I've learned.

I long for your voice, for your gaze, for your presence. I long for every essence of your being to be directed towards me. Some may call me a fool, scoff my way and paint me a madman, but I am nothing without my love for you, so it bothers me none. I often wonder if you think of me as intensely as I do you. I have to admit it is exciting, the mere thought of you reciprocating my feelings warms me so. It is intoxicating, even as a fantasy, simply imagining a life with you is enough for me. Somedays, I imagine gifting you with an unending dream, one where it is just us, away from the rest of the world. Away from duty, and work, and anything else that could distract us from each other, from our love. We would be together and we would be happy until the end of your days, and even after you're gone, I would continue loving you. 

You were always so opposed to the idea, immortality. I remember the look on your face when you realized just how long I had lived, the sadness, the remorse, the pain. At that moment, it was not something I feared, more accurately not something I thought much about. It was not until I met you that it dawned upon me that at some point, you would leave this world, and that it would keep moving. Time would progress, people would grieve, but they would move on, plants would sprout and grow and wilt and eventually grow again, but I would remain stuck. Stuck with my dreams and fantasies. Stuck with the memory of you so present it would be like you never left in the first place. 

Even now, I fear what the world would be like without you. Not much fills me with fear, my Child of Man, but I've found myself scared lately. The thought of you leaving, of going back to your home, and never returning scares me. It is almost comical in a way, I find myself dreading the thought even while writing this. You should be proud, how easily you are able to terrify me is an excellent skill, one many would love to possess. 

You were my first true friend, did you know that? I have Lilia and Silver and Sebek, but I've always been treated as above them, as something untouchable. You were the first person to treat me like an equal, to bless me with the wonderful feeling of friendship. I often find myself racked with guilt, why should I desire more from you when you've already given me so much already? It is selfish, to seek out your love so desperately when I've already taken so much from you. You are my friend, and I should value our friendship above all. 

But that is why I fear, because my love for you goes beyond the boundaries of friendship. I would even say it goes beyond the boundaries of love. It is a longing so deep I wonder if I'll ever be the same again, all while knowing that I am too engrossed in the feeling that is you to ever go back. A longing so deep I yearn with desire unexplainable to man, desire so profound and raw that I am sure you have changed something within me. A longing so deep the closest word to describe it is obsession, but even obsession doesn't explain the hundreds of letters, all unset, pilling away, all centering you. 

Fear, love, what do distinctions matter if every single one of my thoughts center you. 

I have no desire to send this letter, my Child of Man, but I hope with every meeting, every passing day, every time we are together, you are able to feel the love I hold for you. I hope my longing, my devotion, my never ending, boundless obsession is clear to you, my love. 

Because I fear what will happen when I run out of paper.

---

A/n: here's to me hoping that this will break my writers block.

[shakespeareanwannabe]

As You Wish, Chapter 10

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, panic attack, drinking, sadness, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, swearing, character falling in the pool

A/N: No flashback for this one because I wanted to jump right into the chapter you've all been waiting for!

Hotel Zaza, Now

Charlie kept her eyes peeled as she scanned the lobby for her mother, her father, and her potential future stepmother. She couldn’t believe that Uncle Bob had lost her mother. It was literally his only job in this whole operation.

Beside her, Natasha grumbled under her breath, echoing her thoughts. “…great WSO, terrible wingman,” she had just finished grumbling, leaning against a large white column as her one good eye surveyed the people coming and going. “Heads up, there’s your mom,” Nat jerked her head as Buttercup rushed from the elevator, clad in her yoga pants and tank top from earlier.

Charlie groaned as she saw her father and a blond young woman emerge from the crowd, the woman looking around as though looking for someone before heading to the front desk. “Oh crap, they’re gonna end up right next to each other!”

“Would it be so bad if they did? Takes the pressure off you and Abby to be the ones to reintroduce them,” Nat shrugged.

“I don’t know! Javy and Roo always made it seem like the world would end if my parents ended up in the same room together,” Charlie moaned, watching anxiously as her mother and the blond that she guessed was Savannah came closer and closer to each other, Jake trailing behind with his eyes on his phone.

Beside her, Nat rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, Javy always had a knack for the dramatic.”

“I thought you liked my dramatics, Phoenix?” a deep voice sounded from behind them, and they both turned.

Javy stood smiling at them; his thick arms crossed against his chest.

“Uncle Javy!” Charlie launched herself at him and found herself caught in his strong tattooed arms.

“Hey there, girlie!” Javy hugged her close for a moment before placing her back on her feet. “No warm welcome from you, Phoenix?” He held his arms open playfully, an earnestness twinkling in his eyes that Charlie wasn’t sure she’d ever seen before, but Natasha just scoffed.

“How about you do something useful and go stop your best friend from blowing this whole operation before it starts?”

Javy blinked at her, hurt flashing momentarily in his eyes before he crossed his arms. “Is that anyway to talk to your friend?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, turning her head slightly so that half her face was against the pillar. “We haven’t been friends in a long time, Machado.”

Javy’s shoulders bowed forward. “I know, but I never wanted it to be that way.”

“Then what did you want?” Natasha snapped.

Charlie huffed and turned away from them. The concierge desk had four people working at it, and, luckily, her mother was in line for the first person, and her dad was in line at the third. The odds of them seeing each other weren’t high, but Charlie didn’t want to take any chances.

With a gulp, she ran over to where her dad was in line, Savannah hanging all over him.

“Dad?” she hid her trembling hands. She had missed him so incredibly much, despite being so angry with him for hiding her mother and sister from her. He was still her dad and she hadn’t seen him in over a month, so while she really wanted to give him a hug and never let him go, she instead hid her hands behind her back and waited for him to respond.

Jake disentangled himself from Savannah, turning to her with a bright smile on his face. “Hey sweetheart, did you and Rooster find the pool?”

“Yeah, but…they don’t have any change rooms!” she blurted out the first excuse that came to her mind. “Could you show me where our room is so I can get changed?”

Savannah pouted before Jake could even open his mouth. “Sugar, we’ve got to meet the wedding planner.”

Jake fixed her with a look that had her pouting bottom lip sucking back in. “And we’ll have plenty of time to do that. But I’m not allowing my daughter to wander around the hotel alone. C’mon, Charlie. I’ll take you up to the room.”

Charlie felt a smile creep onto her lips. “Thanks dad.”

Savannah sighed, a dramatic, long-suffering thing, before she nodded. “Fine. Let’s go back to the room. But then we have to meet Phillipe.”

Charlie glanced at her father’s face quick enough to catch the tail end of him rolling his eyes. “Yes, dear.”

Charlie stifled a giggle as they weaved through the crowded lobby and hustled into the glass elevator. Savannah pouted and leaned her back against the glass as Jake punched their floor number before taking the two steps towards her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“It’ll take five minutes, tops,” he murmured, pressing a placating kiss to her hair as the car started to move, rising them up above the lobby.

Jake glanced down, always having loved heights, even if he was only going a few stories high, and his heart stopped.

There, standing below them, waiting for the next elevator car, was…

But it couldn’t be. She wouldn’t be in Texas. There was no way. She had practically sworn off the States after the papers had been approved, even going so far as to take her brother and her closest friend with her when she had basically fled.

Jake blinked, but the phantom from his past didn’t disappear. Instead, she raised a timid hand and waved at him, a small smile tugging on her lips.

Jake felt his knees begin to buckle, and it had nothing to do with the elevator car coming to a halt or his girlfriend—no, fiancée—kissing his neck.

She was here. His Buttercup…she was here. In the same hotel as him. In the same hotel as him and Charlie. Did that mean Abby was with her?

Jake’s heart began to race. She was here. She was here.

The second her dad and Savannah wandered off to meet Phillipe, Charlie scurried back to the elevator, rode it two floors down, and practically sprinted to her mom’s room, where she knocked rapidly.

Her own familiar face opened the door and she smiled brightly. “Abby!”

Abby returned her hug with fierce strength. “Charlie!”

They stood standing, smiling at each other for a moment before a deep voice interrupted them. “You two are gonna blow our cover if you keep standing out there for the world to see you.”

Charlie grinned and sprinted at her uncle. “Uncle Roo!”

He scooped her up with his usual begrudging smile. “Hey kid. Good to see ya. Now get your butts inside before someone spots you.”

Both girls rushed into the room, both smiling at Bob where he lounged on the bed.

“Crisis averted?” he teased.

Abby glared playfully. “There wouldn’t have been a crisis if you hadn’t lost our mother.”

“I had to take a phone call,” he defended, a small smile playing on his lips. “Where is your mom?”

“I’m right here.”

Abby turned and spotted her mother, standing in the doorway that connected the two rooms.

“Mum!” she launched herself across the room and was caught by those soft, strong arms that wrapped around her fiercely.

“Oh my girl…” Buttercup whispered into her hair. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Abby whispered into her mother’s neck, feeling the tears stinging her eyes. As much as she had loved being with her dad and uncles, she had missed her mother just as much. Her warmth, her strength, her slight floral smell, the way she laughed. All of it. “I’m sorry I went to Texas without telling you.”

Buttercup sniffled and straightened. “I understand why you did, baby. However, what I don’t understand…” she placed her hands on her hips. “Is why your father just looked at me like he had no idea I was on the same planet as he is, let alone the same continent.:

Abby stepped back, falling into line with Charlie, and they both gulped. “What do you mean?”

“Your father spotted me when he was riding the elevator up, and, from the look on his face, he had no idea I was going to be here.” She looked between them sternly. “You did tell him that I was going to be here, yes?” As the two sisters stared at each other guiltily, she groaned. “You didn’t tell him?”

“Well, mum…” Abby started. “You see, we…that is to say, Charlie and I…”

Rooster and Bob started to edge around the room towards the front door, but Buttercup held a finger up at them.

“Freeze, you two!” she barked. “You allowed my daughters to—to—bamboozle us this way?”

Bob tensed while Rooster purposefully dropped his shoulders. “Bamboozle you how?” he asked, a forced calmness in his voice.

Buttercup huffed. “What is this? Is this about you still not believing that a divorce was the best course of action for us, Bradley? Or about how you always thought we should have tried harder with the custody arrangement, Bob?”

Charlie stepped up. “It’s not their fault, mom. We…we wanted you and dad to be happy.”

Buttercup couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that escaped her. “And how is cornering your father on the tour of his wedding venue going to make him happy?”

Charlie felt herself flush and she opened her mouth, but it was Abby who spoke first. “We don’t want to have to live with this custody arrangement anymore, mum. We were hoping that, if you and dad saw each other again, you’d be able to figure out another way, so we can share the two of you instead of having to live separate lives.”

Buttercup folded in on herself, arms crossing in front of her, not defensively, but protectively. “I…I know the custody arrangement wasn’t fair to the two of you. I…you’ll never know how sorry I am for that. But forcing your father and I into this…” she shook her head. “Why didn’t you just talk to me? Talk to us? Especially once you met at camp.”

“Mum…” Abby bit her lip. “I wanted to. I really did. But you always seemed so hurt whenever I brought up dad, and…and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I wanted to talk to you too, but…” Charlie gulped. “But I was so scared that you wouldn’t love me if I pushed you to talk to dad. And I was terrified that you were going to say no.”

Buttercup drew in a deep breath and her shaky exhale drew the attention of Rooster and Bob, still edging towards the door. They paused in their quest for freedom, and Bob looked tempted to approach his sister, but Rooster’s hand on his shoulder stilled him.

“I…I’m so sorry, girls,” Buttercup whispered. “I wish I could do it all different. I wish that things had turned out differently for all of us. I wish that your father and I—”

The door that stood mere feet from Rooster and Bob burst open, letting in a bickering Natasha and Javy. Buttercup jumped as their voices raised.

“—I never said that!”

“Oh, but you implied it! How else was I supposed to take that?”

“You can take it and shove it up your—”

“Enough!” Buttercup shouted, bringing the room to a standstill, quiet as a pin-drop. Her hands covered her face, and it was only the keenest of eyes that could pick up the slight trembling of her limbs. “The four of you—” she shot a pointed look at the four retired aviators in the room. “Owe me a massive explanation for why you thought it was okay to manipulate J-Jake and I. I trusted you. Natasha, you and Bob know how I felt about this meeting and you still decided to blindside me. And I’m sure Jake will feel similarly once he finds out that his two closest friends are pulling the rug out from under him while he’s planning the happiest day of his life. And girls? There are so many reasons why what you did is not okay. First, switching places at camp and now forcing your father and I into close proximity. I’m trying to be understanding but…” she sighed heavily, her hands sagging back to her sides. “I need a drink,” she murmured, backing towards the door. “You four can watch my daughters,” she added with a glare at the four adults quietly sulking around the edge of the room.

Looking down at the guilt-ridden faces of her daughters, Buttercup sighed and stooped to hug them both into her arms. “I love you both,” she whispered, sniffling slightly. “I’m not mad, I’m just…I need some fresh air. Stay here. Please.”

With another small sniffle, she turned and fled the room, leaving six guilty parties staring after her.

Jake found himself boring holes into the ugly paisley wallpaper of the hotel hallway, listening to Phillipe yammer on about some special flooring package. Or was it a floral package? Either way, Savannah seemed thrilled and was too busy chatting with her new bridal BFF to notice that her future husband hadn’t said a word since the elevator.

Buttercup was here. In Texas. He hadn’t seen her since…

His stomach roiled at the thought of their last meeting, the tears they had both shed as they left their wedding rings on the table and said goodbye to one of their daughters. Her tear-stained face and the gauntness of her cheeks, the bags under her eyes. His memory was in sharp contrast to the woman he had seen in the lobby, all full cheeks and glossy hair, all smiles as she had waved at him.

He shuffled his feet as a funny feeling exploded in his stomach at the thought of her. It was Abby. It had to be because of Abby. Jake hadn’t held his daughter in over ten years, and if she had come to Texas with her mother…

Jake’s hand dove into his pocket before he could second guess himself. He wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to see his daughter. And if his chest tightened at the idea of seeing his ex-wife? That was just the nerves talking, of course.

“Hey, sweetheart?” Jake called, his eyes widening theatrically. “I just got a call from Sarah. Our vet on staff? Apparently something came up on one of the horses tests and she wants to talk to me about our options. She says it’s urgent, otherwise I wouldn’t be asking. But why don’t you and Phillipe make some decisions and you can tell me all about them later?”

Savannah pouted and Jake was honestly a little surprised that she didn’t stomp her foot for emphasis. “But Jakey!”

“I know, sweetheart,” he crooned, his feet already shuffling him away towards the door. “But I trust you. You can make whatever choices your heart desires. I just want you to be happy with this wedding.”

Apparently, he had said the magic words because Savannah turned back to Phillipe without another word to Jake and said, “In that case, what about the premium lighting package? Can we add more chandeliers?”

Jake ignored her as he took off towards the elevator, wondering where he should even start looking. The hotel was huge, but he would knock on every door he could if it meant finding his Buttercup. Jake shook his head at himself. No. He wouldn’t allow himself to go down that path. He was searching for Abby. His daughter. Not his ex-wife. However…his daughter was likely to be wherever his ex-wife was, so he supposed he would have to search them both out. But where the hell to start?

Jake exited the elevator onto the main floor and scanned the lobby. His Buttercup wasn’t much of a gym fiend, more into home yoga and cardio than anything, so the gym was out. She was an author, he knew, but it didn’t seem likely that she would be in a conference room.

Jake paused and leaned against a white marble pillar. He had to think. Think like Buttercup. She liked the water, he remembered. They had had way too many fun memories on the beaches of Coronado for him to pick just one favourite, but the way she had smiled at him while surrounded by the sun and sand and surf was enough to warm his soul even ten years later.

The mere thought of it had him turning and racing down the hall towards the indoor pool. He quickly palmed his keycard against the magnetic lock and stepped into the room, almost taking a step back when the overwhelming smell of chlorine caught his nose, but he persisted, doing a quick lap of the pool and surrounding deck chairs to try to spot Buttercup or Abby.

“Sir, can I help you?” a lifeguard regarded him suspiciously, and Jake took a second to realize how it must have looked, a fully dressed man scanning every woman and child in the pool room.

“Sorry,” he felt himself redden. “I just thought…my wife said she was heading to the pool with our daughter, but I don’t see her.” He didn’t see Charlie either, but he had enough questions on his mind to wonder where she might have gotten to.

“She might’ve meant the rooftop pool,” the lifeguard offered helpfully. “There’s a cabana bar and a waterslide that the kids really seem to love.”

“Thanks, man,” Jake replied, already turning on his heel to head back to the elevator. Of course, she would head to the rooftop pool instead of the indoor pool. She hated the smell of chlorine and she always said the water felt better when you could feel the breeze in your hair. She was up there. Jake could feel it in his bones.

Buttercup placed the glass back on the bar with a little more force than necessary before meeting the bartender’s gaze and saying, “Another one, please.”

He frowned a little disapprovingly but poured her another rum and Diet Coke, her second since sitting down at the cabana bar next to the pool five minutes ago.

I love my daughters. I love my family. I love my friends. I love my daughters. I love my family. I love my friends. I love my daughters…she chanted to herself as she sipped the second drink slowly. What they had done, tricking her here on some half-cocked dream of getting her and her ex-husband back, was so far over the line that she was fairly certain they didn’t even know where the line was anymore, but she loved them. Her daughters especially had their hearts in the right place, and she couldn’t fault them for wanting a normal dynamic between their parents. It’s what she herself had always wanted for her family. But things didn’t always turn out the way you dreamed. That was made especially clear to her when she spotted the bottle blond wrapped around her ex-husband, at least ten years her junior and basically painted into her blue jeans. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was her daughters. She would face Jake. She had to. She wouldn’t live a life without Charlie, not anymore. She wouldn’t fight him for full custody, but she would do everything in her power to make 50/50 possible for her girls. She could do that much for them…after she had another drink.

She threw back her second drink and asked the bartender for another one. He rolled his eyes but poured the drink and handed it to her before moving off to clear up some of the glasses that had been left on the poolside tables. Her eyes followed him as she nursed her third drink, tracking his movements as he collected glass after glass before her eyes caught on a figure rapidly approaching from the roof’s door.

“Buttercup?”

Her stomach roiled, and she decided that three drinks in less than ten minutes was a bad idea. “Oh god,” she whispered, turning away from him and stumbling to her feet. She couldn’t do this. She wouldn’t do this while drunk. She needed to be stone cold sober to be able to face him, otherwise she’d make a fool of herself. And she had promised herself that she would never make a fool of herself in front of Jake Seresin ever again.

Buttercup quickly straightened and walked away from him. If someone accused her of running away from him, she would have no defence but that didn’t matter to her. She wouldn’t face him until she was confident in herself, and she couldn’t be less confident after three drinks.

Buttercup passed the bartender as she heard Jake’s footsteps pounding behind her. “Buttercup, wait!”

“Don’t call me that,” she whispered, feeling her heart pound at his nearness.

“Buttercup, I—”

A loud crash sounded behind her, and Buttercup spun on her heel to see what was happening, but she didn’t see anything before her flip flop caught on the tile of the pool and she stumbled unsteadily, falling backwards right into the pool.

The chill of the water immediately sobered her as she flailed in the deep end, trying to figure out which way was up before a strong arm wrapped around her waist and tugged her to the surface.

She gasped as the fresh air kissed her face, that arm not leaving her as it towed her towards the edge of the pool.

“Th-thank you,” she panted, frantically pushing her wet hair from her eyes.

“Don’t mention it…” an achingly familiar voice replied, deep and playful with a beautiful Texan twang.

Buttercup clutched the edge of the pool as she blinked, her vision clearing enough to see Jake Seresin a mere foot away from her, his dark blond hair plastered to his forehead and his white button-down shirt almost see-through.

“J-Jake…”

He grinned, that cocky grin that she had always hated because it meant his shields were up. “You weren’t trying to run away from me, were you?”

“No!” she shivered and started pulling herself along the pool’s edge towards the stairs. “Don’t be so full of yourself. Not everything is about you.”

Jake chuckled as he did the butterfly stroke beside her, easily keeping pace as she clumsily looked for an escape. “But it’s so much fun to think that everything is about me,” he grinned a Cheshire cat smile at her that would’ve had her defences melting a decade ago.

Buttercup reached the pool’s ladder and didn’t have it in her to swat away Jake’s hands on her waist to help steady her as she climbed out of the pool, a staff member greeting her with a fluffy white towel as she stood in her dripping clothes. Jake smoothly exited the pool next to her and wrapped the towel around his shoulders.

“So, are you saying you’re not in Texas to see me?” Jake asked, his green eyes glinting in her direction.

Buttercup swallowed. “As a matter of fact…” She had to tell him. She had to just come out and say it. It wasn’t fair to the girls to make them do it, and it wasn’t fair to him to keep him waiting. “I am here for you. And I thought you were here for me.”

Jake’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Mum!”

“Dad!”

Both jolted away from each other, not realizing how much they had moved into each other’s space as they talked.

Abby and Charlie stood before them, mouths gaping.

“What on Earth did you do?”

“Why did you go swimming in your clothes?”

Buttercup pulled the towel tighter around her shoulders as Jake turned and gaped at the two almost-12-year-olds standing in front of him.

“Did I hit my head when I jumped into the pool after you?” Jake murmured, not taking his eyes off the two girls.

Buttercup shook her head. “No…they’re both here. It’s…kind of a long story.”

One of the twins gulped. “Please don’t be mad.”

“It’s not Mum’s fault.”

“We met at camp—”

“—and we figured out that we’re twins, and—”

“—and we decided to switch places—”

“—because we wanted to meet you and—”

Jake crouched in front of them as they rambled and slowly, carefully, placed a hand on each of their shoulders before pulling them into a tight hug.

“I don’t care,” he whispered tightly, cradling them both against his strong body as years of pent-up longing and grief threatened to spill out over his cheeks. “I don’t care how it happened. I’ve waited years to hold you both in my arms again. So that’s what I’m going to do.”

He pulled them even tighter against his chest and his heart fractured as he felt them—both of them—wrap their arms around him. And if a few tears fell, then who could blame him?

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[cumikering]

Neighbour Ghost x reader 7

2.3k | angst, drinking irresponsibly If Simon could do it all again (part 1)

“You don’t look good, sir.” The sergeant stood at attention, looking straight into his lieutenant’s eyes.

Simon had to commend the balls of Kevlar required to walk right up to him to point the fact out unprompted, but that was why he liked Sgt. Eric Jefferies the most. You had no time to waste when you raced with death on the regular - he would tell anyone they didn’t look good.

He knew he didn’t - it was the same bland face he had the pleasure to look at in the mirror each day. Annoyed, but not surprised by the darkening circles under his eyes, stark against his pale complexion. It didn’t help that he nicked himself in the jaw shaving that morning.

“Dining hall, sergeant,” he grunted.

“You’re barely eating, Riley,” Lt. Ramsay said, the same bloke who’d catch him sneaking back to his room. “You know you’re contributing to the food waste when you don’t ask for seconds, yeah?”

It was true, and the table chuckled, but Simon continued to shove whatever was on his plate into his mouth. It was enough to not starve.

“He never leaves his room anymore, not even on the weekends,” another lieutenant quipped, but was promptly elbowed by the officer next to him.

That, too, was true.

Simon had nowhere else to be, like how it always was before his mum came to Hereford. These days his flat was too empty and cold with the hole in his chest. He never came back after that night.

It wasn’t like he was thriving in his quarters either, but it was still a little better – at least it was untouched by you. Though his nights were dreamless at first, he kept waking, and waking until the dreams started.

It was a glitch in the universe, wasn’t it? That the memory that played in his mind to insanity was the last time he saw you, about crawling back to your door with limbs that didn’t feel like his, vision swaying with the lights, coming on and off, his heartbeat ringing in his head.

It’s not supposed to end this way… I want to try…

He sighed at another disturbed night. Tea would slow his mind. Instead, he found the box of Darjeeling you gifted him to take back to base. ‘So we can have the same tea over the phone,’ you’d said.

Was there a way to escape you, make you stop haunting? He needed an exorcism.

He put it back in his drawer. One day, it wouldn’t have to hurt anymore.

And the nightmares came back. It was once, then twice, and thrice a week of waking up in cold sweat in the dark.

Simon’s performance slipped. There was a reason sleep deprivation was a popular torture method. He requested sleeping medications - his career was the last thing he had and he wasn’t about to let it go. Any unrestful sleep interrupted by the vivid images his sickly mind conjured up was still better than no sleep at all.

Quitting you was impossible when the thoughts still followed. If pushing you away didn’t work, maybe basking in the memories would, even if it hurt more. Aching for your warmth, the scraps of it, he’d go anywhere you’d been to see your ghost. The pain was better than the void.

“You lads are volunteering at the soup kitchen this Saturday,” he announced to Sgt. Jefferies after hours.

“Saturday, sir?”

“It’s good for you. Reminds you why you’re doing all this.”

“Can’t tell me what to do,” he teased. “You’re not my L.T. on the weekends.”

Simon’s stare didn’t waver and the other bloke’s smile dropped.

“Copy, sir. I’ll tell the others.”

When the four burly SAS soldiers entered the kitchen, chatter and clanks stalled as all eyes turned to them.

“May… May I help you young lads?” one of the middle-aged ladies said.

Simon recognised her from his last visit, but he quickly realised this was a silly idea. He was out of place, knowing no one there.

He flashed half a smile. “Just wanted to give a hand. Got any lifting to do?”

The lieutenant and his sergeants hauled the food items to the kitchen, including the bread which he taught his sergeants to half and butter. They were offered to peel potatoes, but Simon decided it was wise to leave it to the pros instead.

People still avoided his gaze while his boys exchanged pleasantries with the other volunteers; Eric even got called handsome by the group of older ladies he impressed with his strength as he hefted the sack of potatoes. While the night was as pleasant, it wasn’t the same if you weren’t there to hold his hand and laugh at his jokes.

When the boys invited Simon to the pub at the end of the night, he said no. He thought he was ready, but even after weeks, coming back to his flat was just as sickening.

The silence pierced. Despite all the lights flicked on, the place made his skin crawl, the space too vast and empty. But he didn’t become a lieutenant from succumbing to his emotions.

As he lay in bed, he recalled that you too slept there once. That the mattress once dipped with the gentle weight of you, but unlike the bed that bounced back, you’d left a lasting imprint that disfigured his soul.

Simon wondered what you were up to, if you knew he was there drowning, miserable in his cold room. He couldn’t decide if he preferred your door to be closer or further: closer so he could catch a glimpse of you without meaning to, or further so he wouldn’t be so tempted to go over and get on his knees.

You said begging only reduced you to nothing, but for you, he’d beg and beg. There wasn’t much to lose when he wasn’t much to begin with. He was a stray for a reason.

He tossed and turned, and was granted a wink of sleep before the same bloody dream flashed in his mind.

I don’t care how hard it gets…

He sat up, feet thudding on the floor as he rubbed his face with a heavy sigh. It was always that one moment, like a broken record. Why couldn’t it be you on a night out, or kissing you on the kitchen counter, or simply, you smiling? It was a curse. If only the heart could follow where one’s feet went.

With no plans on coming here, his sleeping pills lay on his desk at base. He looked through the cabinets to distract himself, finding various bottles of dusty, unopened spirits he was gifted. They weren’t his cup of tea.

So he packed, to get his mind off you, from spiralling and digging a deeper grave for itself.

It was time for a change. With the accommodation he was provided, he never needed to rent, but he did anyway in case his mum ever needed the place. It was a good call he did, but with the divorce on the way, keeping it was pointless. He’d rather spend the extra money on his mum and nephew.

Yes, he came to remember- not to forget, but you wouldn’t leave, would you? In the dead of night, when he pulled the hoodie he’d forgotten about out of his wardrobe, he decided he’d had enough of his bloody flat and drove back to base.

He still had another weekend to before his next deployment, a two-month mission. He’d finish packing then.

“You’re right, sir, it feels good volunteering.” Eric grinned at his lieutenant. “We’re going again tomorrow. Also one of the ladies is introducing her daughter to Sam. See you there then?”

Never again. “Dining hall, sergeant.”

Simon was a fool for not finishing his lunch sooner and bolting, instead lingering for the announcement. With how atrocious he did on his tests, he must have been beyond high to still hope for a miracle, that despite everything, he still had a chance at a promotion.

He didn’t make to the top 3.

Amidst the wishes from the table, Lt. Ramsay’s turned to him. His grateful smile faltered.

Simon’s fists clenched. It was supposed to be him, his. But who was he to be mad. It was the fruit of his incompetence. He knew this was coming. Things were going to shit. The unforgiving truth was staring right at him mercilessly: he had nothing else.

He left for his office.

“Sir, sir!” Sgt. Jefferies called. “We’re heading to the pub tonight. Come with us.”

He gritted his teeth. Word travelled too fast.

“Let’s get out of the base for a bit,” he continued when he caught up to his long strides. “It’s the last weekend before we ship out.”

Simon eyed the display of vibrant bottles behind the bar as he listened to his sergeants’ orders, the names foreign to him. Above, the telly showed a rugby match rerun no one paid attention to.

“Jefferies, how much you reckon it takes me to get pissed?”

He chuckled. “You, sir? At least 10,” he said before taking a swig of his beer.

“Nah, 15 sounds more like it.” Richie, the designated driver for the evening piped up.

Sam downed his first two shots, hissing as he slammed the glasses on the bar. “Agreed. Do you know how much he lifts?” He nodded at Simon’s biceps, bulging under his loose black shirt.

It was a genuine question. Simon didn’t want to get pissed, he only wanted to forget. He didn’t mean to go over his limit he had no idea was at seven.

Drunk Simon was a weeping, blabbering mess. It didn’t help that he was massive, because his sergeants had trouble getting him to the car before Richie drove him to the address of his flat he barely managed to gurgle out before passing out.

“Sir, you’re paying for the bloody cleaning if you get sick in my car!”

Why did he think this was a good idea? He was never a drinker, barely even touched alcohol socially. It was the poison that turned his dad into a demon, and it too became his downfall. The only thing he thought he would always have – his resolve, let him down too. He’d lost you, his mum whom he was supposed to protect, his future, and now his dignity.

Desperation was a lethal sentiment.

And that dream came again, that he stumbled to your door. Legs wobbly, his vision in and out as the world spun in slow motion.

“Luv… Luv, it’s not supposed to end like this,” he slurred, the same line he always opened with.

A marionette, a prisoner in his own head, it was a loop he couldn’t escape. The awful show had to commence to end the same way each time.

“I’m sick of losing and I wouldn’t know what to do when you leave, after how much you’ve given. Instead, I left when you needed me. I should have been there for you, gone through all this with you, no matter how hard it got.

“If you would give me a chance, I’ll quit the SAS. I’d start all over again. I’ll butcher the carrots and apples with the bloody peeler, I’ll let the steakhouse mess up our reservation and eat a dozen soapy tacos… If you ever show up at my door with your pie again, I swear I’d kiss you, not scare you. And I’ll never let go. If it has to hurt, I want it to be you.”

The door clicked open, and like how it always went, it meant the dream was coming to an end.

“You make it worth it,” he muttered as his vision faded.

…

Simon gasped for air, this time staring up at blinding lights. He shielded his wet eyes, chuckling to himself.

“Bloody hell, I think I’m sick on the inside.”

“Only your past, but you are not your past.” Your voice echoed in the distance.

His body was too heavy to move. “Could you forgive me, for all of this?”

“Could you? You need to forgive more than you need to be forgiven.”

He laughed as another tear slipped.

Simon woke on his couch, still in his clothes from the night before. Dreaming of you always drained him, leaving him hollow and out of touch with his body.

He sat up with a groan, rubbing his face as the dizziness settled. He didn’t remember much after getting dragged to Richie’s car. Judging by the gnarly bruise on his arm, he probably fell last night, but he was glad he found his way back to his flat in one piece.

Stumbling to the shower, he hissed when his toe stubbed one of the boxes on the floor. It was a horrendous decision to drink so much, still having to pack the rest of his stuff. He leaned over the sink, staring at his bloodshot eyes.

His sergeant was right. He didn’t look good. He never did. What the fuck are you doing to yourself, Riley?

With his hair damp, he made his way to the kitchen. As he realised he’d packed all his tea stash in one of the bloody boxes, a series of knocks echoed in his flat.

He grumbled. It better be important for someone to disturb his peace, especially with the pounding of his head. He couldn’t be bothered putting a shirt on before he swung the door open.

It was you, a pie in hand like the first time he met you all those months ago.

“Hi, is Simon in?”

His heart lurched as he crushed you in a hug.

“Thought you said you were going to kiss me.”

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @lyenera @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @mxtokko @reaperxxxxzz @footyandformula @opalesquegirl @audisive @sparrowgalaxy @fanficreblogs @strawberrystargal @damalseer @onlineoutcast @alright-i-guesss @maresoleil @mehjustalasshere @rrtxcmt

[cosmos-coma]

Glass Desks

A/N: Just a silly little scene I've had in my head for bit now since I work as an occasional house cleaner to try and get by. I got surprised by someone coming in on my last clean and just had to turn it into something.

Pairing: Mafia! Bucky Barnes x House Cleaner! Reader

Words: 1,055

Bucky Masterlist

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___________________

A sigh escaped Bucky as he ran a hand down his face. He was supposed to have meetings all day today- ones important enough that he’d rearranged everything around them- yet within the first two hours something had already come up and his associates were forced to reschedule.

“Hey, boss? We’re here…” Sam said from the driver’s seat, pulling him out of his thoughts and making him look up at the large empty house before him.

His empty house.

He wouldn’t trade his line of work for the world, truly, but between both the secretive and potentially violent nature of his job, it didn’t exactly leave much room for pleasant company. 

He sighed again as he stepped out, “Thanks Sam…. That should be all for today, but I’ll call if I need you.” He said and patted the roof twice before it pulled away. 

Making his way up the stairs toward the entrance, all seemed normal at first glance- that is until he spotted an unfamiliar car parked around the side. 

It was an old car, parked out of the way in the shade- not quite a beater- but they definitely didn’t make its model anymore. It was non-descript and would blend in with a crowd if needed, but more importantly: it wasn’t one of his. 

He moved toward the door with far quieter steps now, listening intently for the intruders. Multiple voices came from inside as if trying to talk over each other in layered tones. Chairs and doors clunked and creaked as they were moved about, followed by the moving voices- were people searching for something? 

Instinctively his hand found the gun in his jacket. ‘Sam didn’t say anything as he left… Did he really not notice the car? No-Sam was one of his best men… Maybe he already knew they were here..?’ Bucky thought.

Either way, he wasn’t taking any chances; his fingers closed around the gun’s handle as he cracked open the door, the weapon a comfortable and familiar weight in his hand. His steps were silent as he entered, their practiced paces unknown to anyone but him. 

However, instead of finding an enemy gang searching for secrets he found…. You. 

You were hard at work in your own little world as you went about cleaning the second floor. You bobbed and sang along to the music emanating from your back pocket, your voice layering over the original as the rags half tucked in your belt swayed with you. The mobster couldn’t help but crack a smile. 

He had completely forgotten. Usually, on days when he was meant to be out of the house for hours on end, you would be scheduled to come clean. But apparently, no one had informed you about the change of plans.

You had been hired on as his house cleaner a few months ago, helping him keep things together while work kept him endlessly busy. But despite having been on the payroll for a while now, he still hadn’t found the time to officially meet you- that is, until now.

He couldn’t deny that you looked… rather silly if he was being honest, but your unparalleled passion only made it all the more endearing. His head shook with a faint smile as he watched as you moved into his office. Shutting the door behind him with a soft click, he was halfway up the second-floor stairs when he heard you suddenly break away from your song. 

“Ugh…,” you sighed loudly to yourself, still thinking you were the only one in the room, “what kind of an asshole has a glass desk? I mean, really- Do you have stock in Windex? Is that what it is???” You asked snarkily to no one in particular, but this was too good for Bucky to pass up.

“Not yet. Should I?” The mobster found himself biting back his laughter as he leaned against the office doorway behind you. 

“At this rate? You should really-“Your mouth clamped shut faster than it ever had before, your entire body freezing on the spot as his response finally processed. Your eyes were wide as saucers as your thoughts ran on a panicked loop ‘Oh no, oh god, oh shit, oh fuck. you really just had to insult the infamous White Wolf of New York… In his own home… In front of his own men… Are you STUPID??’ you yelled at yourself internally and quickly put on a brave face, turning off your music and turning to the unfamiliar voice behind you.

Your stomach nearly dropped as you realized it was not only “one of his men” it was, THE man. You instantly recognized him from the few photos scattered around the house; the sharp stubbly jaw and blazing blue eyes were unmistakable, not to mention the hint of the metallic arm you caught between his suit sleeve and glove. You couldn’t deny he was handsome- even more so in person than he was in his photos.

“Mr. Barnes…!” Your voice squeaked out, but he just held his same amused smile, looking anything but upset. “I, uh… I thought you had meetings all day today- I didn’t mix up the date, did I..?”

“Not at all…” he said with a quiet laugh. “My meetings got rescheduled part way though, so I thought I’d spend the evening working from home. Little did I know it’d be the perfect place to get financial advice too.” 

Your face burned with embarrassment as you relived the very recent moment yet again, “Right, uh, about the whole ‘asshole’ thing, I-” 

But he simply waved you off, “Don’t. It’s refreshing to get an authentic opinion, and honestly? I don’t even like that desk.” He admitted, his heart stirring in new ways as your whole body relaxed and he could finally see you as you usually were, “and, ah… if you wanted to stay for a while, I sure wouldn’t mind the company- I could use a little advice in the stock market.”

You bit your lip to hold back your grin, you wouldn’t get too ahead of yourself, “Oh, me? I don’t know if I’d really be suitable company while I’m cleaning.” 

A thought seemed to pass over him then as he nodded in agreement, “Hm, you’re right..” he smiled, “Perhaps we should just have dinner then… how’s tonight?”

______

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@writingmysanity @simpxinnie @goldylions

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