#yes i have her tag filtered on here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arieslost · 2 months

Text

act up | op81

summary: you and oscar have been skirting around each other for ages. it ends tonight.

word count: 949

warnings: drinking (we’re back in the club!), suggestive comments/moments

masterlist — join my tag list here!

oscar couldn’t stop staring at you, and he had no one to blame but himself.

well, himself and the empty shot glass in his hand. he’d lost count of how many times he’d tipped the contents of the glass down his throat, and it’s like that saying— a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts. or however it goes. if oscar were to insert himself in that equation now, he’d be the drunk guy.

the drunk guy who wanted to do nothing but stare at the girl sitting on his lap: you. he couldn’t remember how you got there for the life of him, but hell, he wouldn’t be caught dead complaining about it. it felt good to let his inhibitions go and his anxiety with them, even if all he was doing was sitting there with his arm around your waist, hand resting on your thigh.

you’re waving down the bartender to pour the two of you another round of shots from where you both sit in a booth, and he uses the liquid courage to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“are you trying to make me act up tonight?” he murmurs in your ear.

you press your lips together, tilting your head towards him so you’re practically cheek to cheek. “maybe. got a problem with that?”

“nope.”

he’s surprised at himself for his lack of filter and complete honesty with you; normally he isn’t even able to look anywhere near you without feeling his face getting hot. the same could be said about you, honestly. the boldest you’ve ever been towards him is giving him a kiss on the cheek when he got a podium finish a month ago, and both of you were bright red afterwards even though you both loved it. it didn’t help that lando had, of course, been there to make fun.

“i’m sick of the two of you. oscar, mate, be a man and kiss her for real.” he’d said, laughing as the two of you somehow turned an even deeper shade of red and looked in opposite directions.

“shut up, lando, for fuck’s sake.” oscar grumbled, punching him in the shoulder a little harder than normal.

“ah,” lando had just laughed harder before setting his sights on you. “if he doesn’t grow a pair it’s gonna have to be you.”

“die,” you told him, not being dramatic about it at all.

“i love you guys too. but not as much as you love each other!” he called before being chased out of the room by oscar’s balaclava and your empty water bottle hurtling towards him.

neither of you could endure lando’s teasing sober, especially not oscar, who spent way more time with him. but here he is, so many shots in that he’s lost count, and you on his lap. he’s going to run with it for as long as possible.

the bartender brings over the shots you ordered, and you pick up both.

“don’t cut me off now, i’m almost drunk enough to ask you to come home with me,” oscar says, lips brushing your neck.

he smiles when he feels you shiver, dragging his hand a little further up your thigh. “save it for when we’re sober,” you giggle as his fingers play with the bottom of your shorts.

“i’m not brave enough to say this stuff to you when i’m sober,” he confesses with a sigh.

“you should be. you know i’ll say yes.” you down a shot, and then hold up the other. “you want this?”

he nods. clearly there’s some magic in the shots that finally allows him to be forward with you.

you lift yourself up, much to his dismay, but he relaxes when you simply turn to face him and straddle his hips. “come and get it, then,” you say with a playful smirk, before tipping back the shot and looking at him expectantly.

you don’t swallow. oscar feels like he’s about to explode. he doesn’t waste any time in leaning forward and firmly pressing his lips to yours, knowing that he would never be daring enough to do this sober, as much as he always wants to. your fingers slide into his hair, carding through the long strands like you’ve done it a thousand times. his hands find purchase on your back, pulling you forward, before they slide down to your hips and squeeze. your mouth opens in surprise, but he’s expecting it and opens his mouth as well, allowing the alcohol to pass from yours to his.

you part from each other for a moment, and oscar barely even registers the harsh burn of the alcohol when he swallows, too intent on kissing you until he can’t breathe.

“oscar,” you moan out against his lips, and fuck, you sound so hot that he can only moan back at you, hands traveling down to your ass and grasping it firmly.

you’re pressed so close to him that he can hear the hitch in your breathing when he does so. he moves his attention to your jaw, your neck, your collarbones, wanting to know what places draw out those beautiful sounds from your mouth.

“oscar,” you say again, sounding more insistent, and he reluctantly lets you pull away. “not here.”

you giggle when his eyes light up. “but somewhere else?”

“somewhere else, when we’re sober.”

oscar pouts. “i don’t know if i can do this when i’m sober.”

“then i guess it’s gonna have to be me,” you echo lando’s words from last month with raised brows.

“lando can kiss my ass,” oscar says with a newfound determination. “i will do this when i’m sober.”

you grin. “that’s what I’m hoping for.”

note: the beginning of this was actually written for a fun little passion project of mine and i wanted to turn it into something a bit more. i hope u all enjoyed!

since this is being posted on march 12 it is important for me to say that this is most specially dedicated to @venusacrossthestars. my entire op81 week event is, but three years ago on this day, we met through a discord server, and i am so grateful to still know you today and call you my best friend. i love you bestie <3

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @hauntedphotographybookstaco @bigheartsthings @northpizzasposts @notturlover @riv3rbank @gesfjjsl @oliveisunstable @lily1sposts @sadbut-true0 @lilcowboy0 @alltoowelltaylor @kimis-gloves @superheroreader @alexmarie29 @anedpev @lalalaphie @waitingforsmartpeople @arrowenchantress @zillygoose @its-cat-eyes @gxllumsriddles @fionaschicken @mrsgeorgerussell63 @bre013 @lizzypiastri @blldsnjs @samantha-chicago @homosexualjohnwayne @opheliabluewolff @catbat011 @drivelikeiido @what-is-happening-helpp @decafmickey @tania2748 @steviesscoops @annahowardsworld @nessacarty1 @tswizzleismother @anythingforourmoonsy @meko-mt @solonelystill @tomriddleswhorecruxes @sammykiszkalover @landosgirl

#blurb #op81 week #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

603 notes · View notes

thirteenducks · 4 months

Text

feverish

(wriothesley x wife!reader) [sfw]

༻❁༺ content: fem!reader (reader is referred to by ‘wife’ and "she/her"), established relationship, marriage, reader has hair long enough to reach neck

༻❁༺ word count: ~1.5k

༻❁༺ tags: sickfic, banter while sick, this is just wrio taking care of you and being a butt while doing it, feat. sigewinne who does not get paid enough for this, if you are sick and reading this rn im so sorry and i hope you get well soon, coldsink wrio x heatsource wife agenda

༻❁༺ author’s note: my friend @mmmairon is sick and i am in another country and cannot help so i'm sending wrio on my behalf. pls enjoy especially if you don't feel well right now :(

After a restless night, Wriothesley is thrilled to hear that you're awake now. He wastes no time in rushing to your side.

Wriothesley’s pen scratches unpleasantly against a disciplinary notice, its point threatening to carve into the wood of the desk beneath. The owner mutters darkly under his breath as he completes a signature on the offending paper and slides it to his left. Immediately, another takes its place from the stack on his right.

For two hours, nothing else has broken the quiet of the Duke’s office. Two hours too long, by Wriothesley’s measure. He glances at the clock, hand continuing to sign his name by sheer muscle memory.

Are you getting any rest? Did the chamomile from your tea an hour ago help at all, or are the throes of fever keeping you awake? Does he have the right ingredients to make you beef stew? Preoccupied, he writes “soup” on the signature line of a prisoner release form by mistake.

He sighs, pinching the crooked bridge of his nose between his fingers. They’re as cold as ever. He misses the warmth of yours unspeakably.

The next thirty minutes pass like an eternity. Surely, Sigewinne would be at his side in an instant if you were awake. His presence there now would only serve to wake you from much-needed rest and defer his backlog of paperwork even more. Neither of these points keeps him from staring the clock down like he’s in the ring again.

Suddenly, there’s a quiet knock on his door and Wriothesley snaps to attention, nearly knocking over an inkwell in his haste. Sigewinne enters without his bidding, an unreadable expression on her kind face. She doesn’t wait for his question before she answers it.

“Yes, the tea put her to sleep, and yes, she’s awake now.”

His features relax in a moment, the furrow in his brow smoothing.

“I’m afraid she’s not any better than she was this morning, however. I would have really liked to see her fever come down by now...” The Melusine trails off, her small hand on her chin and a pout on her face. “The chill probably isn’t doing her much good, either.”

Her boss, however, is already halfway downstairs, pulling his coat on as he takes the steps two at a time. Sigewinne sighs as she turns to follow him at a much slower pace. So predictable when his wife is involved.

In contrast to the speed at which he crosses the fortress to your shared living quarters, Wriothesley’s steps are soft as he nears your bedroom door.

“Sweetheart? Are you up?”

A weak cough answers him. He’s by the bedside in a moment, kneeling and pushing aside the curtain that hides you from him. Your eyes squint a bit as the sickly light of the fortress filters in, and his hand moves up to shield your face as he appears in your field of vision.

Despite the red ringing your eyes and nose and the congestion in your breathing, you smile up at him and his heart almost jumps out of his chest.

“Hi, darling.”

The side of his mouth quirks up. “Hi. Feeling any better?”

You shake your head slightly, your hair fanning out on the pillow beneath you. He silently gathers it in one hand and moves it away from your neck as he waits for you to continue. The brush of his cool hand against your flushed skin feels incredible and you bring your hand to rest on his, a silent entreaty to keep it there.

“Sigewinne says I’m in the worst of it now and that from here-” you stop to cough, Wriothesley’s eyes raking over your frame as it shakes with the effort. “-from here it should be uphill. As long as I can rest up today.”

He pushes the hair back from your forehead with his other hand, stroking it absentmindedly. “Well, we’ll have to stick it out until tomorrow then, huh?” The grin he shoots you, all teeth, does more for you than you think any of the medicine on your bedside table has.

That’s why you’re as surprised as he is when the tears start to roll down your cheeks. You hadn’t even known they were there until now, but suddenly it’s so much harder to breathe than it was and Wriothesley is a swimming blur in front of you. The shooting pain in your head, dulled to an ache until now, comes back in full force as your body curls in on itself and your temple meets your husband’s shoulder.

You don’t know if you’re crying from the headache, from exhaustion, or from something else, and your mind is too foggy to care. All you can do is be held as his arms come to rest firmly around you and he pulls you to him, murmuring words of comfort.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry... I wish I could do more.” Your hands grip his collar a little tighter as you sob into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “I know, love. You’ll feel better soon, I promise. Sigewinne and I are gonna take care of everything, okay?”

There’s an edge of concern to his voice that you can hear even through the haze of sickness. You hate it. It’s likely just the seasonal flu; half the Fortress has had it at some point this winter. The thought of how much you were making him worry over something so small as this...

“I know what you’re thinking. Stop it,” Wriothesley gently reprimands, his cool fingers stroking your forehead again. You can feel the cold metal of his wedding ring against the heated skin. “You’re not being a baby about anything. You hear me?”

Your silence speaks volumes. He laughs a little, the sound loud in the silence of your bedroom. “I know you well, don’t I?”

It takes a while for your tears to completely subside. When you’re finished sniffling against his collar, he props you up against the headboard with pillows behind your back. You’re more congested than ever, something your husband has the nerve to laugh at as he hands you tissues, but there’s no unkindness in his tone.

He disappears into the kitchen for a few minutes as you doze, exhausted from the effort of crying for so long. When he eases the door open again, he’s carrying a tray with a teacup and pot (of course) and a bowl of something that smells warm and comforting.

“Hmm. Excellent room service this place has. The waiter is a little scruffy, though,” you say as Wriothesley places it on your lap, tucking in the covers around you.

He gives you a fake look of injury. “How dare you, ma’am. I’ll have you know I’m too worried about my wife to shave, who I’m afraid is deathly ill,” he sighs, stroking the stubble on his jaw. He spoons soup into your mouth before you can retort, stifling a smile.

Once you’ve drained half the soup, Wriothesley seems satisfied. He removes the tray from your lap and takes your hand, bringing it to his own forehead.

“Oh, no. How awful.” He shoots you a glance. “It appears the Duke of the Fortress has come down with something.”

You raise an eyebrow. His forehead is as cool as the rest of him is. “Really.”

“Oh, yes,” he says, flopping onto your lap. “It looks like he’ll be out of the office for the rest of the day.”

You laugh, wincing when it makes your head throb. “The Duke sounds like a slacker, if you ask me.”

“Well, everyone knows that,” Wriothesley murmurs, burying his face into your thigh. “They’ll have to tell my boss about it.” You feel him grin against your leg.

You sigh, feigning exasperation. “What a shame. I was just about to ask him to dinner, too.”

Wriothesley has migrated to his side of the bed by now and is nestling into your side with the stubbornness of a dog. “Don’t worry, I hear he’s a messy eater. Absolute carnivore.”

Your hands come to rest on his head, the soft grey strands tickling your palms. “You know you’re going to get sick, right? I’m highly contagious.”

No answer.

“You’re the head of the Fortress, Wrio. If you get laid up, Sigewinne might put a bounty out on you. She seems like the type.”

Your husband murmurs into your side, already half-asleep. “She’ll have to catch me first.”

Despite your many blankets and the body next to you, a sudden chill runs through you and you stiffen. He feels it, arms tightening around your waist.

“Fever pills are on the bedside in the white bottle. Water is next to it.”

You smile. “Thank you, darling.” He hums in response.

A few days later, you’re well enough to leave your room again. Sigewinne would be thrilled, if not for your husband, who looks more smug than any sick man has a right to be.

He sniffles, burrowing into your sheets again as the Melusine glares daggers at him. “I’ll be fine. My wife loves me and I have leftover soup in the fridge. What else does a man need?”

#wriothesley #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley x reader #fem!reader #mairon if u see this please feel better #this is also lowkey for me the next time i get sick #just planning ahead ig #anyway. simp wrio agenda

1K notes · View notes

mieczyslawsravenclaw · 2 months

Text

Best Friends, Is That All? - Stiles Stilinski

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•Pairing - Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!

•Summary/Prompt - Just a regular ride in Stilesʼ jeep…Or it would be, if the love-struck fool could stop asking you how you feel about him. Guess someone's got a different kind of ride in mind...

•Warnings/Content - Pretty much all bases covered, they definitely fuck, tons of begging and mentions of markings and scratching, they use a condom bc SAFETY, oral oral lots of oral, TONS of petnames sorry its cheesy ik but I canʼt help it, lots of praise too bc thatʼs tasty, oh yeah and boys whimpering bc thatʼs just hot asf, they're in love so it's a little fluffier but still VERY spicy

•Word Count - 4.5k

•Authorʼs Note(s) - As always, just want to write about the spicy ideas I get from having spicy dreams, I feel like this oneʼs a little better than the last one but who knows? >_< /// (YA'LL I EXPECTED LIKE 4 LIKES ON MY SPENCER BLURB AND I GOT OVER 200 TY????? WTF???? )

•Additional Tags - they fuck in the jeep!, stiles is a whore for begging, theyʼre obsessed with eachother ffs, Switch!Stiles but mostly Sub!Stiles, he talks her through it UGH YES, CONSENT IS KEY, heʼs okay with whatever even if that means he doesnʼt get laid, Stiles is one cocky SOB with BDE and just a big dick oops, theyʼre for sure gonna fuck again before the night is over hehehe

“Do you get nervous?ˮ

The question takes me by surprise - Up until now, it had been a normal, routine drive with Stiles, albeit more fidgety than usual from his side. But once the question has left his lips, heʼs even more so, if thatʼs possible.

“Do I…yeah, definitely. Of course I do.ˮ I quirk my eyebrow at him; Heʼs avoiding my eyeline, focused far too much on the road ahead.

Something else, another question maybe, passes his lips, but itʼs far too quiet for me to catch. The poor thing is redder than a tomato, tapping his hands on the wheel as he starts to drive just a little faster unknowingly.

“Huh?ˮ

“A-About…M-mmmmm.ˮ Stiles stutters, dragging out his thought. The jeep seems to follow its driver, stuttering a bit on the road as he pushes the pedal down further.

“Sti, are you okay?ˮ

“Nervous.ˮ He repeats the word like heʼs reading it from a dictionary, not like heʼs using it as a self description. Weʼre getting further into the back roads now, and if I didnʼt know any better, Iʼd think he was bringing me out here to kill me or something.

“Pull over a sec, yeah?ˮ

He nods, bringing the jeep to a crawl along a forest road that could more accurately be called a trail, if anything. The silence is filled only by the bumping of the tires on the gravel, until we reach a stopping point, surrounded by nothing but trees for miles.

“Whatʼs eating at you, Stilinski?ˮ I turn in my seat, eyeing him in the mid-day light. Filtered through the jeepʼs dusty windows, he looks like a modern god, and my heart can hardly take it. Iʼve loved this poor boy a long time, but Iʼve never been brave enough to say it. And now, weʼre all alone in the woods for who knows what reason, and Iʼm more nervous than ever.

“Dʼyou ever get nervous…about me?ˮ He manages, his eyes squeezing shut and his fists clenching tight. He lets out a huge breath, then continues in a ramble, “God, I canʼt believe I even just asked that. Holy shit. I mean, you make me so nervous. Dʼyou know that? Youʼre my best friend, and you make me so nervous I feel like I canʼt even breathe, I want you to just reach over and break the distance between us and give in and just take me. God-ˮ

“Sti.ˮ It comes out half-choked. The lump in my throat swells - oh, my god, he likes me too? - as I scoot ever closer to him.

“Oh, of course not,ˮ He sighs, eyes still closed. He doesnʼt see me shift again, within touching distance, he just keeps on with his nervous blabber. “I mean, someone as beautiful as you with a guy like me? Come on, Stiles, get real.ˮ

“Stiles. Look at me, damn it.ˮ Hands shaking, Iʼm reaching over to touch him when he listens to me, turning and looking all in one motion.

“Oh, hi there.ˮ He blurts, flushing crimson.

“Yes, I get nervous about you, too.ˮ I can hardly believe Iʼm uttering the words. But my fear is trumped by the desperate need for him, right here and right now. I canʼt believe of all times and places, this is where itʼs gonna happen, but I donʼt quite care at the same point, either.

“You do?ˮ

“Stiles, I can barely contain myself around you. These past few months especially, I just-ˮ My reaching hands are still hanging near him, and he notices, finally, taking them in his own. I let out a shaking breath, closing my own eyes in desperate need to escape his searching gaze that sends my pulse skyrocketing. “You-Youʼre everything, do you know that? Iʼve wanted to tell you for so long, but I didnʼt think youʼd even look at me like that, I just thought-ˮ

“Best friends, nothing more?ˮ He chuckles softly, and I can sense the way his lips curl, not even needing to see it to know it. “Yeah, sounds familiar. Hey, look at me. I like you, you idiot.ˮ

My eyes open at the last few words, and seeing it straight from his mouth makes me lose myself for a moment. All I can do is blankly stare, my stomach doing flips. He likes me, he likes me, he likes me!

“Can you say something?ˮ He groans, eyes flicking between my own and down to my mouth. “Like, maybe confirm to me that you like me back? I mean, you kinda said as much, but I just really wanna hear you say it. Can you say it? Is that okay? Youʼre killing me, here-ˮ

“I like you too. Of course I do, who wouldnʼt?ˮ

“You do. For sure? Not just tryna pity me, are you?ˮ He quips, but itʼs clearly halfhearted.

“I really like you, dumbass.ˮ I move closer, dying for something to happen. Anything.

“Are you gonna kiss me now? Or am I gonna kiss you? Somebodyʼs gotta kiss somebody here, or Iʼm gonna lose it. Please, Iʼm begging you.ˮ

“Oh, youʼre begging me now?ˮ I smirk.

“Absolutely I am. If we were outside Iʼd be on my knees for you. Please, just fucking-ˮ He lets go of my hands, reaching for my waist as I grab at his collar.

We meld like itʼs second nature, lips forming together with a satisfied groan from Stiles that makes my legs weak. Somehow, I climb onto him in this cramped little jeep, bumping the steering wheel with my ass. He laughs, almost immediately going back to kissing me, a bit harder now. Itʼs clear in the way I grind my hips down to him with what I feel rising back to meet me that this is gonna take up a lot of our time together today.

I wonder for a moment if anyone will assume what weʼve gotten up to. Of course, Allison knows how I feel about Stiles, Iʼve told her a million times. I wonder if heʼs told Scott. Iʼm sure he has.

“Youʼre thinking too much,ˮ He growls, biting my lip. I moan back. “Thatʼs a lot coming from me,ˮ Another kiss, coming down my jaw now as I catch my breath. “I know. But…what can I do to get your mind back to me, hmm?ˮ

“That. Keep doing that.ˮ My hands tangle in the back of his hair, the tousled sort-of-waves that have grown out as of late being tugged as he nips at my neck.

“You want me to keep begging for you too?ˮ He teases, his lips coming up to my ear. “Cause I can do that all day, baby.ˮ

I nod, unable to grasp words with his breath against me.

“You gonna let me take you here, right now? Itʼs killing me to feel you on me like this and not have you. Please, let me have you, I canʼt stand it.ˮ

“T-tell me what you want me to do.ˮ I grasp harder at his hair, and he lets out a whimper. Oh, my god, that.

“I want you to fuckinʼ destroy me, and Iʼll beg until you do. God, Iʼm shameless, I donʼt even care if weʼre out here all alone or not, just please for the love of fuck, ride me like nothing else matters.ˮ

I pull his lips back to mine, silencing him for a time as we continue to make our own rhythm, learning one another with moans and laughs and tension unparalleled. Itʼs great, too great-I smack my head against the jeepʼs roof, letting out a yelp.

“Oh, shit-ˮ Stiles pulls me down against him, biting his lip when I land.

“Iʼm okay. Ow.ˮ

“How about we move this to the back?ˮ He pops the door open, letting me out first. Despite his words, heʼs back on my neck the moment weʼre outside, making it hard for me to push the seat down to get into the back.

“Stiles…ˮ I sigh, fumbling with the latch.

“Sorry, just want you-god, just want you so bad.ˮ He pulls back, reaching forward and sending the seat down with a practiced grasp.

I clamber inside, watching him hyperfocus on giving us as much room as possible. Front seats pushed down and forward, clutter thrown into the front, then heʼs back on me, kissing me and tugging at my shorts.

“Can I…?ˮ He motions, and I nod, letting him pull them down. His lips come back to mine, his fingers playing at the edge of my panties.

“Please-ˮ

“Youʼre begging now?ˮ He chuckles, his voice lower and throatier. Gods, Iʼm wet as fuck just from that.

“Shamelessly.ˮ I echo his earlier words, earning another small laugh.

“You want me, baby? How bad?ˮ He teases, hand grasping at my hip.

“Real-Really bad. Want you so bad, want you to-ˮ I canʼt even finish the thought, as he presses against my clit with his thumb. I moan, bucking up against him.

“Sorry, Iʼm impatient, you know that.ˮ He amends, kissing down my jaw and pulling back. He sits me up against the door, pulling my legs up and pressing a deep kiss against my opening. “Youʼre soaking, I can tell even through these little things.ˮ

I shudder, eyeing him in between my legs. Itʼs a sight to behold, and he isnʼt even getting started yet.

“Howʼs about we take em off, huh? Donʼt need these where weʼre going.ˮ He discards the fabric, and when his eyes meet the heat pooling below my belly, his jaw goes slack. I could almost swear he was drooling.

For a moment, Iʼm self conscious, folding in on my body under his gaze. But he holds my thighs back down, shaking his head.

“Uh-uh. No shame, right, princess?ˮ He hovers over me, eyes flicking back and forth between his focus and my face. “Now, you just let me know what feels good and what doesnʼt, okay? Wanna make sure you enjoy yourself.ˮ

“Stiles, Iʼm dying here, please just touch me already.ˮ

He smirks, another shake of the head, this one with a cocky air to it.

“If you insist, sweetheart.ˮ He brings his lips down to meet my opening, licking a stripe up that sends my hands grasping at the jeepʼs seat.

“Sti-ˮ

He hums against me, his grip on my thighs tightening. A few more precise licks, and heʼs delving into my core, filling the jeep with my desperate cries. Fuck, heʼs good, and Iʼm already closer by the minute.

“Taste so good, baby…ˮ He murmurs, getting lost in the task as my hands tug at his hair. When he shifts up to suck at my clit, the noise it brings from me is almost inhuman. “Feel good?ˮ

“Yes- oh my god, yes-ˮ

“Want more? How does this feel, hmm?ˮ He presses a finger to my opening, and I push against him, wordlessly begging. He chuckles, pushing it in fluidly. One, a few motions, and clearly Iʼm still desperate so he adds in another. “Talk to me, baby. Use your words.ˮ

“You want me to talk right now?ˮ I moan, my mind spinning in the pleasure-filled void heʼs trapped me in.

“I know, itʼs just too good, huh? You donʼt have to talk, your noises are more than enough.ˮ He curls his fingers, pulling against a sweet spot that has me crying out.

“Stiles!ˮ

Back down to me with his lips now, too, I can feel the smirk that starts up hearing me say his name like that. He knows exactly where he has me, and heʼs gonna relish in it. Not only are his fingers working magic now, but along with his tongue? Iʼm gonna break, and he knows it.

“Iʼm-Oh, donʼt stop-ˮ

A hummed approval is all I get from the usually chatty lips of Stiles Stilinski, his beard that heʼs let grow in recently brushing over me while he brings me to the edge. Iʼm practically drowning in the pleasure, and heʼs the air I need. One more fluid motion, just the right one, and Iʼm spilling curses from my mouth and wetness from my heat. He laps it up heartily, a satisfied groan from the recess of his throat vibrating against me.

“You…I just…wow.ˮ He pauses for a moment to look over me with a smile beginning to tug at the corner of his lips. I flush, back to being nervous under his eye.

“Stunned you into silence, eh, Stilinski?ˮ

“Oh, Iʼm far from done. Just figured Iʼd give you a break.ˮ He quips with a smirk.

“I donʼt need one.ˮ I blurt, the words faster than my brain.

“No?ˮ He laughs. “Okay, then. Well, if thatʼs the case, Iʼm begging you to get back to being all over me.ˮ

“In what way?ˮ I smirk, looking at his coated fingers.

He snorts, rolling his eyes.

“Funny.ˮ Keeping up eye contact, he licks his fingers clean. He seems to enjoy the groan it elicits from me. “Like that, huh? Iʼm looking forward to finding out what else you like.ˮ

I sit up, pressing to him once again. He tastes like me, and chuckles against my kiss. The clink of undoing his belt buckle becomes the sounds of rustling fabrics, my shirt tossed, his gone. His chest to mine, warm and inviting, and his pants kicked to the side. I fumble with my bra, my cheeks red.

“I…ˮ

“Yʼknow we can stop anytime, yeah?ˮ He amends, sensing my hesitation. “Like, of course Iʼm okay with whatever, I want you in all the ways. But only if youʼre comfortable. Consentʼs important.ˮ

“Oh, I want you. I want all of you, of course I do.ˮ I sigh. “Just…real nervous about how I look.ˮ

“You?ˮ Heʼs incredulous, pulling back and sweeping my body with his gaze. “Holy shit, no way. Nuh uh. You, youʼre…God, youʼre gorgeous, are you kidding me? Every part of you fits just right with the other, promise. You donʼt have to do anything you donʼt wanna do, but you gotta know that. You gotta know Iʼm gonna love how you look. I donʼt even need to have seen it yet to know. You just…are.ˮ

Iʼve been rendered speechless, and all I can do is take it off while he rambles.

“Not to say that you gotta just cause Iʼm saying all this. You get that, right? Iʼm not saying it just to get you to-ˮ He stops cold when Iʼve tossed the bra, my hands still hiding the majority of my chest. With a gentle grasp, he reaches to uncover me. “Can I…?ˮ

“Yeah, Iʼm just nervous.ˮ

“Thatʼs okay. Me, too. Youʼre beautiful though.ˮ He lifts my cover away softly, eyeing me with precision and adoration. He pokes at the moles and freckles that adorn my upper body, smiling as his eyes meet mine again. “See? Perfect. Nothing to worry about.ˮ

“Stiles, I adore you.ˮ I blurt, tears starting to form.

“Oh, sweetie.ˮ He pulls me closer, kissing my nose. “We can stop if youʼre really too nervous. I donʼt mind. Iʼll just jack off later or something, no big.ˮ

I snort at his words. “As much as Iʼd love to watch that. No, Iʼm okay. Just needed a moment, I guess. Trust me, Iʼm still dying for you.ˮ

His face goes red. “Youʼd- huh? Wow, thatʼs an image. Maybe another time, yeah? No shortage of things to think about for that, especially now Iʼve seen you and itʼs not just my imagination spurring me on.ˮ

“Youʼll have more to go on soon, too.ˮ I pull him back down onto me, kissing him.

“Fuck, youʼre hot.ˮ He moans. “Youʼre killing me.ˮ

“Destroying you,ˮ I correct him. “Thatʼs what you wanted, isnʼt it?ˮ

“Still want it,ˮ He grasps at me, nothing but his boxers to hide that want now. “Very much still want it.ˮ

More kissing ensues, and weʼre groping at eachother like weʼre high-schoolers again. Somehow, at some point, heʼs as bare as I am now and the way weʼre pressed to one another is the most tempting thing Iʼve ever experienced in my entire life.

“Hey, so, uh- not to seem like a copycat or anything, but…ˮ He breathes against my lips, his voice catching. “Yʼknow, nervous about how I look, now that Iʼm thinking about it. Not really very manly of me, I know, whatever.ˮ

“Fuck manliness,ˮ I amend, letting him pull back. “Youʼre perfect, you…oh, how could you not be?ˮ

What a sight he is to behold, in all his naked glory. Goosebumps pepper my skin as I look him over, from the moles that adorn him across his body the same way they do across his face, to the burning red that sits underneath his pale skin…to of course what heʼs referencing concern over the most. And thereʼs certainly none needed, in my opinion. No concerns, except how Iʼm gonna need to stretch out around that. Oh, my.

“Stiles…ˮ My voice, my gaze, softens. His shoulders drop. “Youʼre stunning.ˮ

“Not just saying that, are you?ˮ He brushes non-existent dirt from his shoulder. “My ego will be sorely bruised.ˮ

“Should I tell you or should I show you?ˮ I lick my lips, gaze going between his legs and back to his face. The noise he makes would be comical in any other circumstance.

“Fuck, definitely show me.ˮ

Now, itʼs his turn to lie back. And Iʼm control. I must have absolutely stunned him, because heʼs got nothing to say, just watching me as I lower over him. Once I begin to kiss at and lick stripes over him, though, heʼs got plenty to say - I donʼt recognize half the curses he lets fly, they must be Polish or something. But fly they do, and his hand is at my hair when I start to take him in my mouth, grasp tight.

“Oh, my god-ˮ

I keep it up until he stops me a few moments later, a funny little quirk to his brows.

“God, I donʼt ever wanna stop this, but if you keep going like that Iʼm gonna fuckinʼ bust, and I gotta know what you feel like riding me first, please?ˮ He reaches blindly around, cursing. “Fuckinʼ - just need my wallet, whereʼd my jeans go?ˮ

I laugh, pulling back to help his search. When he comes up with the item in question, I understand- protection, no shit.

“Yeah, okay, now Iʼm ready.ˮ He nods after heʼs prepared himself, sitting up against the seat. He helps position me over him, eyes locked. “Oh, my god, is this actually real? I feel like Iʼm in some kinda magical dream.ˮ

“Very real. I remember what I had for breakfast and everything.ˮ I quip, trying to ease the nerves. They wonʼt go, though, and the knot in my stomach is ever-tighter as he brushes against my opening. “Fuck, I want you inside me, now.ˮ

“Kinda up to you, there.ˮ He holds me tight around the waist, eyes pleading. “Iʼm ready when you are, though, rock my fuckinʼ world sweetheart.ˮ

The need is too great to put it off any longer; I let myself push down to meet him, the entering gasps we let out mingling in the short bit of air between us. His head falls back, his hands only guides as I bring myself further down, slowly, slowly, slowly. I take a moment around the first few inches to breathe; as ridiculous as it sounds, Iʼve never had someone quite as…gifted as him.

“Fuuuuuck, youʼre tight.ˮ He groans. “So thatʼs how you feel. No imagination or anything my hands can do compares to that.ˮ

“Iʼm only getting started,ˮ I reply. “Genuinely, in all honesty, not a joke or anything. Youʼre…a lot to take.ˮ

“Having fun strokinʼ my ego?ˮ He chuckles.

“Tilʼ you give me something else to stroke.ˮ

“Fuck, thatʼs a promise.ˮ He ruts up against me, bringing a cry from my lips. “Shit, sorry, reflex. You feel so good, I just want more of you. Did I hurt you?ˮ

“No, it felt too good.ˮ I admit. “Just taking it slow cause Iʼm not really used to anything this…ˮ

“Big?ˮ Heʼs got the widest smirk on his face now.

“Howʼs that for your precious ego?ˮ I flirt, pushing down another bit with a sharp breath. The stretching pain is worth it for the look on his face.

“My ego is just fine. Big, just like my- Oh, my god-ˮ He stutters out, his bravado going out the window when I start to rock my hips back and forth. And was that a whimper? “Oh, please donʼt stop, keep going. Oh, god-ˮ

“Long as you keep begging.ˮ

The more I move, the easier it gets to take him, until Iʼm fairly close to bottoming out. Heʼs holding me closer than ever, kissing me whenever he gets the chance to, and the noises and whimpers havenʼt stopped. It spurs me, the collision of our bodies growing ever-faster as he cries my name and begs me not to stop. I wonʼt, I canʼt, itʼs all too good and Iʼm chasing a high that I find myself soon riding out onto him. Now, Iʼll be the one saying his name, his real name.

“God, that sounds so good coming from you,ˮ He moans, “Iʼve never heard it sound so good.ˮ

“Hereʼs to many more.ˮ I stutter out between the motions weʼre making and the sounds accompanying. Heʼs less in control now, thrusting up to meet me and pushing me down to him. Heʼs made plenty of marks on me, from the hickeys littering my skin to the surefire bruising my hips will have from his grasp. I can only hope to either hide whatʼs visible or risk the teasing the pack will no doubt give us later.

“Please, take me all the way, Iʼll help you through it.ˮ He begs, kissing me again once Iʼve come down far enough. “Youʼve got this, baby, please?ˮ

No words, just a resolute nod, and his response is a repeated thanks. I push further, to the very end of him, my nails digging into his shoulders.

“Good, baby- fuck , youʼre doing good, pretty girl. So good, so good for me. There you go.ˮ He kisses my burning skin, the devouring fire weʼve made together consuming us both as I shift around under his grasp. He doesnʼt force, only guides, and makes a rhythm for me to follow with sputtered curses abounding. “God, you feel so good. Does it feel good for you? Hurt?ˮ

“Only enough to make me want it more,ˮ I moan, letting my head drop to his shoulder. “F-fuck me.ˮ

“Is that a statement or a request?ˮ He doesnʼt wait for an answer as I slow, taking the lead and snapping up into me. Once, twice, I lose count. He seems to get lost, too, senseless mumbles and moans filling the jeep as my hand streaks the fogged window. Heʼs entirely filled me up, and I want for nothing more than to go until I canʼt anymore.

He guards my head when I raise back up, making sure I wonʼt hit the roof again, and when it starts to rain in the secluded forest weʼve hidden ourselves in, itʼs not the only thing sending waves crashing down around us. Another thing I lose count of - heʼs far too good at this, and I tell him so.

“Been thinkinʼ about this for a while, so that counts as practice, yeah?ˮ The sweat sticks a bit of his hair to his forehead, and he looks about ready to tire out.

“You losing steam on me?ˮ I tease, brushing his hair back.

“Hell, no!ˮ He groans when I move my hips, sat bottomed out but doing nothing else. “Iʼm pretty close, thatʼs all. But when Iʼm done with you here Iʼm not done with you for the night, if youʼre willing.ˮ

“Well, if youʼre close…ˮ My lips curl deviously, and I bring myself back to the pace and movement that had had him howling earlier. Heʼs back to it in an instant, but his whines are more pronounced, drug out.

“Fuck, please, please donʼt stop-ˮ

“Gonna cum for me?ˮ

“Y-yes, yes-ˮ

“Good.ˮ Itʼs like a growl from me, and his cries only grow from it, until Iʼm sure at least anyone with supernatural hearing can catch onto us if theyʼre anywhere near.

“Oh- Oh, my god, Iʼm gonna-ˮ Stiles holds me tight, the most animalistic noise of it all loosing from his lips as he loads the condom full inside me. Weʼre hot, sweaty, and as close together as we possibly can be, but he still pulls me closer, taking a deep, heavy breath.

“So…how was I?ˮ

His laugh is quick, choked.

“Are you serious? Fuck, that was amazing. Iʼd just as soon do it again, but Iʼm…a little depleted at the moment.ˮ He eyes where we meet with an eyebrow wiggle. “Hey, we just had sex.ˮ

“That we did.ˮ I laugh.

“You and me, best friends. Just had sex. Well, we might wanna rethink that whole just best friends idea, huh?ˮ He kisses my cheek, letting out a content sigh. “No rush on that, Iʼm just talking. You know how I get. Just…excited that this happened. That it is happening. And…Iʼd be okay with calling you something more than my best friend. If youʼre into that.ˮ

“Very much into that.ˮ

“So…girlfriend?ˮ

“Shit, I was gonna say fiancee or wife. Or soulmate.ˮ

His eyes bug for a moment, then he starts to laugh.

“Youʼre fuckinʼ with me. Youʼre hilarious. Alright, girlfriend-future-fiancee-wife-soulmate-whatever-you-want, howʼs that sound?ˮ

“A little long, if Iʼm being honest.ˮ

“Long didnʼt seem to bother you just a moment ago.ˮ

“Mieczyslaw!ˮ

“Still sounds beautiful cominʼ from you. Like…ˮ He catches my glare, and smirks. “Nevermind. Letʼs get this cleaned up and head back, huh? Thereʼs a pizza about to be made with our names on it.ˮ

#stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski #sub!stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader

138 notes · View notes

lendeah · 3 months

Text

The currents of destiny

Chapter 4: Light amidst the tempest.

Summary: In his final vision, Astarion witnesses a future alongside Tav, realizing that happiness can be found in unexpected places. He acknowledges his potential for redemption and contemplates whether this future is worth pursuing. Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader/Tav Word Count: 5.1k Tags: Heavy Angst, Psychological Trauma, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Psychological Torture (kind of), Emotional Manipulation, Verbal Abuse, but just chapter 2, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending.

a/n: tysm again to @tinystarfishgalaxy for helping me with this chapter <3

<- Previous chapter Next chapter ->

[AO3 Link]

He didn't know how much time had passed floating in the void. Minutes? Hours? Days? All he knew was the deep whirlwind of confusion his mind had turned into.

After the visions, he was sure of one thing; he wanted Tav to be happy. She deserved to be with someone who could love her fully and without hesitation, unlike him. He couldn't bear to see her go through the same pain and heartache that he had caused her in the visions. The regret and longing for what could have been tugged at his heartstrings, but at the same time, he knew he didn't deserve Tav. He had hurt her too many times.

He sensed his body being pulled, but he felt so tired, so spent. He longed for release from the pain and exhaustion, to return to Tav and make amends for his mistakes before disappearing for good.

But in that moment, Astarion could feel his consciousness being tugged away from his body through the vast expanse of time and space.

Astarion jerked awake. For a moment, he was enveloped in darkness, his mind still lost in the void of sleep. Slowly, he focused on his surroundings - the softness of the bed beneath him, the intricate patterns adorning the walls, the gentle light filtering through the curtains. He was back in their suite at the Elfsong Tabern, where they had been living for months now. The room felt familiar and comforting, yet Astarion couldn't shake off the feeling of being in a foreign body.

As his eyes adjusted to the blinding light, Astarion's consciousness merged with his future self. He saw a small figure curled up against his side. Tav, her head resting on his chest as she slept soundly. Astarion watched himself gently brush strands of hair away from Tav's face, feeling a sense of longing and love for her. She stirred slightly but didn't wake up. He then traced the curves of her face with his fingers. She looked so peaceful and serene sleeping next to him.

I wish I could have this, he told himself, I wish this was real.

He longed for this moment to be real, to have her in his arms once again. The warmth of her body against his, the softness of her touch, and the sweet aroma of her presence overwhelmed his senses. He had missed her so much, and now she was resting peacefully in his embrace.

And he couldn't believe it. How could this be happening? What had his future self done to deserve this second chance? After all the pain and heartache he had caused her, she was here, forgiving him once again. The surge of guilt that flooded through him was almost suffocating as he remembered the vivid visions of their potential future. Though they may have been mere illusions, the thought that they were a possibility was enough to torment him.

Finally, her eyes started to open slowly, glancing at him from behind squinting eyes.

"Astarion?" she mumbled, still half-asleep, burying her face on the crook of his neck.

He felt an intense need in his future self, mirroring his own emotions. Astarion's arms encircled her in a tight embrace, pulling her closer to him as she nuzzled into his chest. He gently kissed the top of her head and whispered, "Yes, dear?"

"I had missed this... you. So much." Her eyes gazed up at him.

"My, aren't we full of our feelings this morning." the vampire chuckled, brushing aside her hair so that her face was fully visible to him.

"If you ever leave like that again, I will kill you with my own hands," Tav's voice broke as tears started to stream down her face.

So this must be briefly after my return, he thought to himself.

His body pulled her even closer, his arms tightening around her.

As Tav's words sunk in, Future Astarion's heart ached with both guilt and shame.

You don't deserve her.

"Darling, I won't leave you again I promise," he whispered, stroking her hair gently.

Tav's body relaxed against his, and he could feel her tears wetting his skin. He held her for a few moments before pulling back slightly to look into her eyes.

"What happened while I was gone?" he asked softly, wiping away her tears with his thumb.

Tav took a deep breath "We went looking for you everywhere. I-I thought we had lost you for good, I thought..." she gulps. "I thought you hated me..."

Astarion's heart ached at her words. How could she think that he hated her? How could he ever hate someone who meant everything to him?

"You know I could never hate you," he watched himself say quietly.

Tav pulled him into a tight embrace, burying her face in his chest again as she held back her sobs.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

"Don't be sorry," Tav said, pulling back slightly to look up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Just promise me that you won't let your fears drive you away from me again."

Future Astarion nodded, a determined look on his face. And he knew that he could never leave Tav again; that he would do whatever it takes to make things right between them. But a small part of him felt selfish for wanting to stay. After all, by staying, he was preventing her from having a future with Shadowheart - a future where she wouldn't have to deal with his flaws and struggles.

"I'll never leave you again. You're stuck with me, for better or worse." he watched himself say, before leaning down to kiss her gently.

The world around him twisted and turned, the colors shifting and blurring as if reality itself was being altered. In a matter of moments, he found himself standing in a cold, dark hallway. It was big, with tall ceilings and old decorations, smelling faintly of humidity and dust. Astarion watched the scene unfold before him, his future self walking with purpose through the large hallway, as if he knew his way around here. A sense of familiarity filled his body as he followed the sound of voices echoing through the corridor.

As he turned a corner, he saw a door ajar, where the noise was coming from. Astarion poked his head, and he was surprised at the sight.

The room was filled with rows of bright-eyed children, all sitting at tables and eagerly learning from their teacher, Tav. She stood at the front of the room with a blackboard behind her, illuminated by the warm glow of sunlight streaming through the windows. Tav's radiant smile and confident posture commanded attention as she explained various concepts, her eyes sparkling with delight and passion. Suddenly, she turned her head and locked eyes with Astarion, her expression softening as she recognized him.

His future self perched on the door frame, as he listened intently to her lesson.

With a satisfied smile, Tav wiped the chalk dust off her hands and turned to face her students.

"Alright class, that concludes our lesson for today," she announced, causing a chorus of excitement and chatter from the students. "We will continue our exploration of Baldurian society tomorrow. And don't forget to complete your essays on the development of Baldurian culture during the 14th century!" Tav's words were met with a mix of groans and determined nods from her pupils, who quickly gathered their belongings and rushed out of the classroom, buzzing with energy.

The children filed out of the room while Tav slowly walked over to Astarion, her arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"Hey, you," she whispered, nuzzling her cheek against his. Astarion's heart swelled with happiness and he returned the hug, holding onto her just as tightly. He was filled with gratitude towards his own body for allowing him to touch and feel her once more.

As they broke apart from the hug, Astarion noticed a few of the students lingering around them with curious expressions on their faces.

"Ugh, Miss, is that your boyfriend?" one of the girls asked with a scowl, eyeing Astarion suspiciously.

Astarion watched with amusement as Tav's cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

"She is actually my dear sister, whom I love dearly and definitely don't have any romantic interest in," he quipped, before planting a comically exaggerated kiss on her cheek. "But we do make an absolutely charming couple, don't you agree?"

The students' faces twisted with even more disgust and disbelief as they looked at the two of them.

"Ugh, gross!" another one of the boys exclaimed, making a face as if she had just tasted something rotten.

Tav looked at him with wide eyes, "Astarion! No, we are not related!" Tav playfully pushed him away before turning back to the kids. "Ignore him, he likes to think he's funny. He is my devoted fiancé."

Astarion's mind reeled at Tav's words. Fiancé. They were going to get married. He couldn't believe it.

She quickly composed herself and tried to change the subject.

"But enough about my personal life. It's time for you all to head home and get some rest."

The students reluctantly began to file out of the room once again, and Astarion couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as he watched Tav interact with her students.

Once the room was empty, Tav turned back to him with a grin.

"Tough crowd," he commented. "You could have played along my dear."

She shot him a disapproving glare. "I won't take part on you trying to traumatize my students, Astarion."

As they walked hand in hand through the hallways, Astarion couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. He never would have imagined this as his future; Tav as a teacher?

"You were amazing with those kids," he said, breaking the comfortable silence between them. "I would have never pegged you as a teacher, though."

Tav shrugged. "I never thought about it until I started working at the orphanage after we defeated the Absolute. The children here were so eager to learn and I found that I really enjoyed teaching them."

"And that leads us to your favorite pastime; you get to sit and talk as much as you like." He teased, playing with her fingers."I suppose it suits you though, you always had a way with people. That's why you were our leader."

Tav chuckled at his words and squeezed his hand. "I suppose so," she said with a smile. "But you weren't bad either. Your complains were delightful!"

"Oh, I am simply the most charming man, I know, but you're a very close second." He teased, brushing his thumb against her hand.

By the time they left the orphanage, the sun had set and darkness enveloped the streets of Baldur's Gate. Astarion couldn't resist marveling at the city's stunning architecture as he and Tav wandered through the bustling streets. The docks were especially lively, with merchants calling out their goods, children running around, and the enticing aroma of food being cooked over open flames.

He hadn't felt this calm and content in what seemed like an eternity. It was such a strange sensation to him, but his future self appeared to be accustomed to it.

Astarion's gaze fell upon the numerous damaged buildings and scattered debris in the streets. Homeless citizens roamed about, a somber reminder of the destruction caused by the battle with the nether brain. Families torn apart, homes destroyed - it was a heartbreaking sight. But they had survived, they had endured and saved many, and that was all that mattered in the end.

"How has the shop been today?" Tav's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

Shop? What shop?

"Oh, you know how it is with noble women. These high-class ladies are always so annoying, nitpicking about the fabric not being silky enough, or the shade not being rich enough, or the hemline not being poofy enough... It's enough to make one go mad!"

Wait. His future self...worked at a clothing shop? The thought was almost comical to him. To imagine himself, a once notorious vampire assassin, working in a mundane shop catering to noble women's fashion needs.

Tav chuckled and shook her head. "Sounds like you've had your fair share of difficult customers."

Astarion scoffed. "You have no idea. Noble women can be quite... demanding."

"I can imagine," Tav said with a smile. "But I'm sure you handle them with grace and patience."

"Grace? Patience?" Astarion laughed at her words. "I handle them with biting remarks and sly insults. That's why they love me."

Tav raised an eyebrow at him but couldn't hide the amusement in her eyes.

"I suppose that works too," she said with a grin.

A moment of silence passed before she met his gaze once more, her expression softening. "You know, I am incredibly proud of you, Astarion. You've made tremendous progress. Despite the obstacles you face, you are the finest tailor in the city." She squeezed their entwined hands.

Her words caused his heart to constrict. Despite how he had treated her, she still believed in him. She was truly proud of the person he had become.

Future Astarion smiled, swooping his free hand to the night sky in a melodramatic flourish. "Why, my love, I am more than a mere tailor. I have transcended into an artist, a designer of dream garbs. These 'difficulties' of mine are only the chisel that sculpts my resilience." It was a showy display, but Tav's smile and gentle laugh told him she appreciated it.

"As bold as ever, Astarion," Tav said with an amused shake of her head. "Is this the same charm you've been using on your customers?"

"Flattery will get you everywhere, dear," he winked at her.

The sounds of the city seemed to gently ebb away as they continued to walk hand in hand through the candlelit streets. The echo of their laughter punctuated the silence of the night.

His body led them to a house by the docks. As they entered the unfamiliar surroundings, Astarion was taken aback. The place exuded an air of sophistication and charm. Art pieces adorned the walls, each one with its own unique story to tell. Trinkets and mementos from their travels were scattered throughout the space,

giving it a sense of warmth and character. And then there were the books - shelves upon shelves of them, overflowing with knowledge and stories waiting to be discovered. This was their ideal home, and the thought nearly brought tears to Astarion's eyes.

He had never truly had a home before.

She is your home now, he told himself.

As the heavy wooden door clicked shut, Astarion was already pressing his lips urgently against Tav's. She melted into him, her body fitting perfectly against his as they exchanged feverish kisses. His hands roamed over her back and hips, savoring the warmth of her skin and the taste of her lips. But just as he felt himself getting lost in the moment, he pulled away, catching his breath and trying to regain control. They stood there, foreheads pressed together, panting with desire. Tav's fingers lightly traced patterns on the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. He could feel her gaze on him, full of love and understanding.

And Astarion knew; he wanted this. Gods be damned what he had done in his other visions; he would do whatever it took to make this version of their life a reality. For her. For them.

Please, let me have this, he begged inside his mind. Let me be selfish, for once.

And as if hearing his thoughts, his body pulled away slightly and looked into her eyes, as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I love you," he whispered.

The vision shifted once more, pulling him again. As he settled into his surroundings, he realized it was the same room as before, yet it felt different. The air felt almost thick with energy, pulsing and alive.

Astarion blinked, trying to adjust to the new reality. Slowly, he surveyed his surroundings and saw that Gale was indeed sitting right in front of him. Next to him, Tav's grip on his hand was tight and reassuring. Astarion's gaze fell back on Gale, noting with surprise the signs of aging that had crept upon the wizard over the years - his hair graying and the wrinkles in his face deepening.

"...And I know this is only a start for the rest of the matters to take care of, far from a definite cure, but at the very least it's something." Gale was saying.

"It's incredible Gale. It's more than we could have hoped for already. Thank you." said Tav. Her eyes were brimming with tears, playing with the ring on his finger. Had that been there before?

He suddenly remembered that they had actually gotten married. The realization sent a flutter of butterflies through his chest.

But something caught her attention - why was it now sitting on his index finger instead of his ring finger?

"Thank you," Future Astarion spoke up finally, his voice filled with emotion.

And he was so confused. What was going on? Why was everyone emotional?

Tav just looked at him expectantly.

"Do you want to try it now?"

Try what?

His body smiled softly "Yes. I've been in the dark for long enough."

And with that, they got up from their seat. But Astarion's mind froze, because as he reached for Tav's hand, he saw...

No, it couldn't be.

But it was.

Tav was pregnant. Her belly had grown significantly, her tunic stretched to accommodate the new life growing inside of her.

He felt a wave of emotions hit him all at once; shock, disbelief, joy, and fear. He couldn't believe it. He was going to be a father. His body took him away, but he was still frozen inside his head. When? How?

His thoughts were interrupted as his body stopped at the doorframe of their home, sunlight pouring through the cracks. And he felt the intentions in his future self.

What are you doing?! You are going to get burned! he screamed inside his head.

But with one last look at Tav, Astarion's body ignored his desperate screams as he stepped out into the sunlight, a look of determination etched on his face. He braced himself for the usual sizzling and pain of being exposed to sunlight, but surprisingly, he felt nothing but warmth tickling his skin. His eyes squinted against the brightness, not used to so the light after spending so much time in the dark. But other than that, he was unharmed.

"Is it... Is it permanent?" He heard himself say.

"It is, as long as you wear the ring," Gale said from behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Astarion couldn't believe what he was hearing. This was beyond anything he could have ever hoped for. He could finally walk under the sun without fear or pain. Tears welled in future Astarion's eyes as he looked up at the bright blue sky, feeling the warmth on his skin for the first time in years.

And Astarion was stunned. He could actually walk in the sunlight. They had found a way. They were looking for the cure.

"This... this is a miracle," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and gratitude.

Tav and Gale smiled at him, their own eyes glistening with tears.

She took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as she smiled at him. "I'm glad we could give you this gift," she said softly.

Gale nodded in agreement. "It's been a long journey and my contentment for your newfound liberation knows no bounds," he said with a proud smile. "Fear not, for I shall not cease my pursuit until the antidote for vampirism is discovered and obtained. My solemn vow is sealed upon my very existence."

Astarion couldn't find the words to express how grateful he was. He had been so angry and bitter for so long, this just felt like a new beggining.

Could this be really true? A future overflowing with joy and love, where all of his deepest desires were fulfilled. It seemed too good to be true, but he couldn't help but hope that it was.

Tav squeezed his hand again, as if hearing his thoughts. "You deserve this, Astarion."

"Thank you," he whispered, feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

As his fingers grazed over the small bump on her belly, Astarion's heart swelled with pure joy and wonder. Gently, he rested his palm on her stomach, feeling the tiny life within. His ring, newly acquired, seemed to glow in the soft light of the room.

As the vision blurred once more, Astarion's mind struggled to process the overwhelming information. He could walk under the sun. Tav was pregnant. The world around him seemed to spin as he tried to make sense of this new version of his life, opening just for him.

He let out a gleeful light into the void, butterflies dancing inside his chest. He couldn't imagine anything else that could bring him more happiness than what he had just witnessed, but he eagerly allowed himself to be drawn in once again.

The space swirled around him, morphing into a different setting. He was now standing in a vast meadow, the warm sun beating down on him. And he froze, as he watched a small figure running towards him, their laughter echoing through the air. The figure became clearer and he saw a child, a small child with locks of hair as white as snow cascading down their back.

Astarion could've cried at that moment. Could've ripped the strands of time and space that locked him inside his body to reach out to them, to truly be able to hold his child.

As they came closer, Astarion could see the child's features more clearly; they were the perfect blend of him and Tav. It was a girl. Her vivid eyes twinkling with mischief were a reflection of his own, but her high cheekbones and determined chin were all Tav.

She is gorgeous.

"Daddy!" The little girl shrieked as she wrapped her little arms around his waist. Astarion's body hugged her back, and he felt his heart swelling with love like he hadn't felt before. If he had a heart, he was sure it would be bursting. He couldn't believe this was real. He had a daughter.

"Hey there, my little star," Future Astarion said, gently ruffling the child's hair."Did you give your poor mother a hard time today?"

The girl looked up at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Me? Give Mommy a bad time? Never!"

Suddenly, a soft voice called out to them from behind.

"There you two are," Tav said as she approached them with a picnic basket in her hands. "Luna didn't help me with the preparations. She is almost as lazy as his father."

Astarion's gaze shifted towards her, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. She looked radiant, her skin glowing with a soft sheen under the sun. Her hair was longer now, falling in loose waves down her back. Although there were signs of aging - hints of gray in her hair and faint lines on her face - she was still as gorgeous as the day he met her. In that moment, he longed to hold her close and kiss her once again. To thank her for giving him this amazing life.

Tav's hand reached up to his cheek, and the touch sent a wave of warmth through him. His body leaned closer to her, as his heart tightened in response.

"Hey there," she said softly, her eyes filled with love and adoration as she looked at him.

"Hello, you," Astarion replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tav smiled at him before turning to their child. "Come on, little star, let's have a picnic by the river."

The three of them walked hand in hand towards the nearby river where they laid out a blanket and set down the picnic basket. Luna immediately ran over to the basket and started rummaging through it. Astarion watched fondly as she pulled out sandwiches and fruit, her little face scrunched up as she tried to decide what to eat first.

Tav noticed Astarion's gaze and smiled at him. "She has your appetite," she said teasingly.

Astarion chuckled and shuffled closer to where Tav was seated on the blanket. "What can I say? I am a very hungry man," he quipped, nipping playfully at her shoulder to emphasize his point.

Tav laughed. "Well, luckily I have enough blood for you."

"And I can't wait to drink every last drop." He purred as he inched his way towards her neck, his lips brushing her skin.

"Ew! That's so gross," Luna exclaimed, recoiling with a look of disgust on her face, and quickly made her way towards the trees nearby to get away from them.

Astarion groaned in mock irritation as he pulled away, looking up at Tav with a pout. "Our little one is a killjoy, isn't she?"

"I wonder where she gets it from," Tav replied, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Certainly not from me."

Astarion let out a playful huff, his heart warming at her teasing. "You wound me, darling. "

Tav reached out to cradle his face in her hands, her thumb tracing the edge of his lips. She smiled sweetly at him, her eyes filled with love and adoration.

Before Tav could respond, Luna came rushing back to them, brandishing a half-eaten apple and a handful of wildflowers.

"Loo th wha' I found!" she exclaimed with a mouthful of apple, thrusting the flowers under her parents' noses. "Aren't they pwetty?"

"They are absolutely beautiful my dear, you certainly have a good eye." Astarion replied fondly, taking the flowers from her small hands and tucking one behind her ear.

"Is it time to play 'monster' yet?" she asked with excitement.

"Absolutely! I'll be the vampire, ready to sink my teeth into you," Astarion replied, winking at her.

As Luna darted away with a scream, Astarion lunged after her, baring his fangs in a playful snarl. She squealed with delight and scampered around the blanket, narrowly evading each of his lunges. Tav watched, a soft smile on her lips as she reached into the basket to pull out another sandwich.

As the sun began to dip behind the rolling hills, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, they all collapsed onto the soft grass. Luna nestled between her parents, catching her breath as she giggled at Astarion's dramatic recounting of his failure to catch her.

"Perhaps you're losing your touch," Tav suggested playfully, her fingers tracing patterns over his chest.

Astarion scoffed at that. "Never. But I certainly seem to have lost my appetite for chasing after little rascals."

They packed up their things and made their way back home. Astarion carried a tired Luna on his shoulders while Tav walked beside them, holding onto his hand.

"Can we do this again tomorrow?" Luna asked sleepily, her head resting on Astarion's shoulder.

"Of course, my little star," Tav replied with a smile.

Astarion couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with love and contentment as he looked at his family. He had never thought he would have something like this - a loving wife and a beautiful daughter - but here they were, walking towards their home in the forest. And it felt so real he almost let himself believe it was true.

Once they reached their house, Astarion put Luna to bed while Tav started preparing tea. As he tucked her in and kissed her forehead, Luna murmured sleepily, "I love you, Papa."

"I know," Astarion chuckled, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "And don't tell anyone, but I love you too."

Luna's sleepy smile turned into a wide grin as she giggled, her eyelids drooping as she drifted into a peaceful slumber.

He made his way to the kitchen where Tav was busy making tea. He walked up behind her silently and wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned back against him with a soft smile on her face.

"This has been the best day ever," she murmured.

"We have many more of those ahead of us," Future Astarion replied, nuzzling into her neck.

As he watched the display, Astarion couldn't help but feel hopeful for everything that he could have - a loving family, a home filled with warmth and laughter. He had finally found his happiness after centuries of darkness. And he couldn't help but think that maybe this was what it meant to truly live. To truly fight for a better future.

I want this future.

But could he ever have this? Would he be able to make amends for his past mistakes and pave the way for this to be his destiny?

He didn't know. But one last look at his future wife blissful face told him enough; it was worth the try. Even if he only got to taste a sliver of what he had seen, it would be worth the effort.

He felt the vision ripple and fade, but this time as he came to, he found himself not back in the starry void, or the body of another version of himself. Instead, he woke up on the beach, with G'Axir standing next to him.

The crash of waves rolled rhythmically in his ears and the salty, tangy scent of the sea filled his nostrils. He squinted up at the dawn that was now coloring the sky. Astarion pulled himself into a sitting position, his bare chest dusted with sand grains that glittered like tiny suns under the setting sun’s glow.

"The hourglass turns, sands slipping through fingers... the choice yours to make... the consequences yours to bear." G'axir said.

Astarion felt a shiver run down his spine as he tried to unravel the meaning behind the seer's words.

"What must I do?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination.

The seer's gaze seemed to pierce through the veil of time itself as they replied, their tone solemn yet resolute. "Forge your own path... for the threads of destiny bend to the will of those who dare to defy its grasp. The balance hangs in the balance... and only you hold the key to its unraveling."

Astarion nodded, feeling a newfound sense of determination brewing inside him. He stood up, dusting off sand from his clothes before turning to G'Axir once again.

"I am willing to do whatever it takes," he said firmly.

And G'Axir smiled approvingly before disappearing into thin air like a mirage.

Tag list: @tinystarfishgalaxy, @imaginarypetlizard, @nanamisfriedstick, @stuckinaoaktree, @madislayyy, @cosywinterevenings, @fandom-garbage, @generalstephkenobi @ravenswritingroom

a/n: Not proofread, but I will do it as soon as possible! Thank you for the amazing support on this series, I can't believe we only have one chapter left! Also, sorry for the long ass chapter, but I needed some hard fluff after all the angst. Love you all!

<- Previous chapter Next chapter ->

#astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #astarion baldurs gate #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #astarion x you

168 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 1 year

Text

It's the Concussion Talking | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When he wakes up to find the most perfect woman nursing him back to health, Bradley tries his best to put the moves on her.

Warnings: Fluff, mild language

Length: 2500 words

Based on this request! Hope you love it, babe!

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist! And read Part 2!

Bradley cracked one eye open. Holy shit. The pain in his head was immediate and intense. If it would just ease up a bit, maybe he would be able to see what was going on.

"He's stable." That was the sweetest voice he had ever heard in his life. He wished he could see who was talking.

"Blood pressure is low, but his eyelids are moving."

But now Bradley knew something must be wrong. Were they talking about him?

A soft hand pushed his hair back from his forehead and he groaned, trying to press himself further into the pleasant touch. "Where am I?" he managed to ask, but his voice sounded foreign to him, and his throat hurt.

"Shh, don't overdo it. You're in the infirmary on base, Lieutenant Bradshaw," said that lovely voice. "You were involved in a training accident."

Bradley's memories rushed back to him, and he tried to sit up, but that pleasant hand was immediately on his chest, firmly keeping him in place.

"Is Phoenix okay? And Bob?" he asked frantically, finally getting both eyes to open a little bit.

"Yes, everyone is going to be fine," you promised him, and he let himself sink back against the hospital bed as you caressed his face. And then Bradley finally caught sight of you. You were bathed in the soft afternoon sunlight filtering through the window, and you were gorgeous. Like perhaps the most stunning woman he had ever seen. And you were wearing US Navy nursing scrubs with your name tag clipped to the front.

He cleared his throat and said your name out loud. You smiled down at him. "That's me," you replied, and he smiled back at you. "Since you're awake, I'm going to ask you a few questions, sound good?"

Bradley nodded his head, but then the shooting pain returned, so he immediately stopped. "You can ask me anything," he said, mesmerized by how pretty you were.

Your amused smile grew. "Perfect. Let's start with your date of birth and your blood type."

Bradley rattled off both answers for you, earning him a pleased look.

"Can I ask you some questions?" he mumbled, unable to look away from your face.

You shrugged, but your smile didn't disappear. "Sure."

"Are you married? Do you have a boyfriend? A girlfriend? Are you seeing anyone?" he asked quickly. Good Lord, he had probably just embarrassed himself, but he didn't really care.

You tried to hide your smile. "Definitely still concussed," you muttered and scribbled in his chart. "But no, none of the above. I'm single," you said, and he immediately started to formulate plans for a first date. "Just so you know, we've given you some painkillers, so that's probably why you're acting a little silly. But hopefully after one night here with us, you'll be good as new."

Bradley wasn't being silly. He was just being honest with himself about wanting to ask you out. "I get to spend the night with you?" he asked.

You snorted and covered your mouth with your hand, embarrassed. "Kind of. I'll be here until the morning shift change."

You were fucking adorable. Bradley wanted to pull you down onto the bed next to him. "And you're going to check on me? Make sure I'm doing okay?" he asked with a grin.

"Yep. You'll be so tired of seeing me in here, I'm sure you'll be overjoyed to leave tomorrow."

"I highly doubt that," he replied as you stood to leave with his chart in your hand. "You're so pretty, I can't stop looking at you."

You bit your lip. "Yeah, that'll be the medication talking. It should be out of your system in a few more hours. I'll be back soon." You shook your head and walked away, turning back to smile at him before you left his room.

--------------------------------------

Bradley shifted around in the uncomfortable bed. You said you would be back, but you weren't back soon enough for his liking. He considered pushing the little red button to call you into his room, but he was sure there were others who needed help more than he did.

So he waited. He didn't want to watch TV, and he didn't have his phone, so he planned out every detail of his first date with you. Hibachi restaurant, dessert at the French pastry shop, walk along the bayside pier. Maybe a goodnight kiss if he played his cards right.

And he was going to have to play his cards very well, because he was currently trying to woo you from a hospital bed while wearing bright orange non-skid socks.

By the time his door opened around dinnertime, he was feeling a lot better and his head was throbbing less. So he sat up in bed, excited to see you again, but it was someone else coming in with his dinner tray.

"Thanks," he told them as they turned to leave. He pushed the food around on the tray after eating a few bites. He really was about to push the red button when the door opened again, and there you were. A smile broke out across his face.

"How are you feeling, Lieutenant Bradshaw?" you asked as you came to stand next to his bed. "Your head hurting a little less?"

"I'm fine. Excellent really, now that you're back. I missed you," he promised, if only to see if you'd snort again. You didn't, but your cheeks did turn a rosy color as you looked down to make some notes in his chart.

"Pain medication is still affecting you, I see. Your color looks better now though, and so do your eyes," you said, examining his face closely.

Bradley wasn't sure how he was supposed to put the moves on you when he was in a hospital gown that was too small for him, but he was certainly going to try his best.

"Since we'll be spending the night together, any chance I can take you out to breakfast in the morning?

You were trying so hard not to look amused, Bradley had to commend you for that. "I'm not allowed to date patients, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"Please, call me Bradley."

"I'm not allowed to use your first name either, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

Bradley sighed and sunk further into the pillow. "If I tell you my forehead hurts, will you touch my face again?"

A slight look of alarm settled on your features as you ran your fingertips and then your palm across his forehead. "Your head is hurting now?"

He let you fuss over him for a few seconds more, loving the way you moved his hair away from his face. "No, not all. I'm just wondering how we'll ever get on a proper date if you're not allowed to call me Bradley, and I'm not allowed to ask you out."

You smirked at him. "I'll be back around midnight to check on you. I really think the medication should be out of your system by them. Do you need anything else while I'm here?"

"Your phone number?" he asked hopefully, but you shook your head in response. "Yeah... didn't think so."

----------------------------------------

Bradley managed to fall asleep for a little while, but he woke up before midnight and went to use his tiny bathroom. He padded along in his orange socks and hospital gown that ended mid thigh and tied in the back. He would give anything to have some of his real clothing right now.

He splashed some water on his face and tried to fix his hair. "This is not good," he muttered to his reflection. Why couldn't he have met you when he was wearing his uniform and didn't have scrapes all over his face?

He was feeling fine now, just a little bit sore. But you were under the impression that he was concussed and medicated beyond reason, and that's why he was asking you out. Couldn't be further from the truth.

He held his gown closed and non-skid walked his way back to bed. Then his door opened and he was immediately disappointed to see a different nurse.

"Hi, Lieutenant Bradshaw! My name is Marcus, and I'm going to check your vitals."

Bradley frowned. "Listen, I'm sure you're a completely competent nurse, but I really need my vitals taken by nurse Y/N."

"She's on her break right now," Marcus informed him with a smile, holding out a blood pressure cuff.

Bradley shook his head like a small child refusing cough syrup. "I'll just wait for her. Really, I don't mind waiting."

"But your vitals need to be recorded right now," Marcus insisted, shaking the cuff.

Just then, you strolled into the room with a smile on your face. "I can do it, Marcus. I'm done with my break," you said, taking over for the other nurse who walked away muttering about how many difficult patients he'd seen today.

Bradley felt warm all over as you slowly shook your head at him and said, "What am I going to do with you?"

"I can think of several things," he told you seriously. "Starting with taking my vitals, because apparently they need to be done now."

Bradley listened to your laugh fill the dimly lit room. "Okay, we'll start with that then," you agreed, getting to work. He almost moaned at the feel of your fingers brushing along his bicep as you adjusted the blood pressure cuff around his arm.

"How many more times are you going to come check on me?" he asked as you brushed his hair away from his forehead again. He couldn't think of any reason you needed to be doing that, but he was happy you were.

"Just once more, in the morning, before you get discharged."

"That's not enough, nurse. I'm severely concussed."

You laughed. "I think you're doing fine now. I'm going to assume by this point that you are always silly and a bit of a shameless flirt, and that it has nothing to do with your accident or the medication."

Bradley pouted. "Well, I wouldn't call it shameless...."

You shook your head. "Just try to go to sleep, okay? You'll feel good as new in the morning if you do." And with that, Bradley watched you walk out of his room again.

--------------------------------------

Bradley was wide awake at 6 o'clock in the morning as usual. Since you wouldn't give him your phone number, he thought about trying to get you to take his. But then he realized you'd probably throw it in the trash; no way you were going to want to go out with a guy wearing orange socks and essentially a mini skirt.

"Shit," he muttered, trying to come up with a solution before you showed up. You were perfect for him. You were in the Navy, plus you were smart, sweet, competent, and beautiful. But he'd probably embarrassed himself too much to stand a chance.

And then there you were, making a fuss over him again, taking his blood pressure and pushing his hair off his forehead. "Everything looks good. You can get changed and go to the desk down the hall to be discharged. I hope you have a great day, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"That's it?" he asked, and you looked at him with confusion. "I'm not going to see you again?"

You shook your head. "Not unless you're injured or sick," you told him as you frowned a bit and glanced at his lips.

Bradley knew he wouldn't get anything else out of you at the moment. "You said you can't date a patient. But what about after I'm discharged? If I ask you out then, will you give me a real answer?"

You smirked at him. "I'm about to leave for my weekend off. If you really want to seek me out after that, sure, I'll give you a real answer. But I won't be surprised if I don't run into you again, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"I'll see you in a few days," Bradley promised, and you turned to smile at him before you disappeared through the door into the busy hallway.

-------------------------------------

Three days later, it was Saturday, and Bradley was off. He had been trying to figure out when you would be working again, but every time he called the infirmary about your schedule, he was told he didn't have the clearances needed to collect that information.

Maybe you didn't want to see him again, but if that was the case, he needed to hear you say it. He'd planned out three dates in his mind, and he was dying to take you on them.

So he hoped for the best and showed up at the infirmary in his nicest jeans and a Hawaiian shirt with a bouquet of flowers. He rode the elevator to the floor his room had been on, and went to the nurses' station. You weren't there, but he found a sweet looking older nurse with Charlene on her name tag and asked her if you were working.

"Are you her boyfriend?" Charlene asked him, eyeing the flowers with a smile.

"That's the goal, ma'am." Bradley watched Charlene melt at his words.

"Her shift just ended, sweetie. She worked overnight, and I'm not sure if she's still here or not."

Bradley let his chin sink to his chest and sighed. Just as he was about to beg Charlene for the details of your schedule, he heard your voice.

"Bye, Charlene! Have a fantastic time at the- oh!" You came to a stop about ten feet away from him, and Bradley had been wrong. You were even more stunning than he remembered. "Lieutenant Bradshaw?" you asked cautiously, eyeing him and the flowers with a surprised look.

"Will you please call me Bradley now? I'm not your patient anymore," he pleaded, taking a step toward you.

"Okay. Bradley. I'm a little surprised to see you here," you whispered as he took another step closer.

He shook his head. "I told you I would see you in a few days."

You chewed on your lip. "I thought that was just the concussion talking. Are those for me?"

"Yeah," he said, closing the rest of the distance and handing the flowers to you. "Any chance you've been thinking about me at all?" he asked.

You took the flowers and looked at him over the bouquet. "A little bit," you said with a grin. "You were kind of charming the other day."

Bradley smiled and just went for it. "Well I meant every word I said to you. I can't stop thinking about you. If you're not too tired, I'd love to take you out to breakfast. Or, shit, you just worked all night. So you must be exhausted. Um, we could do dinner one night? Or, anything really-"

He shut up as soon as you reached out and brushed his hair off of his forehead. "Breakfast would be nice."

"Yeah?" Bradley asked, all smiles. "Let's go."

----------------------------------

Thanks for reading this fluffy Rooster! PART 2

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@yaboid19

@mak-32

@miles-rooster

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@grxndedwt

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@babybloomers

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@thedroneranger

@changlingkhat

@callsign-echo

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@katiebby04

@andycanbeemotional

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@teddyluvs2sing

@cherrycola27

@ccbb2222

@bradshawsbitch

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@high-bi-imgonnacry

@xoxabs88xox

@scenesofobx

@chassy21

@dhwanishah09

@halo-mystic

@sometimesanalice

@gennyanydots

@notroosterbradshaw

@godsfavoritebabe

@caatheeriinee07

@benhardysdrumstick

@beyondthesefourwalls

@spaceygirly1

@pieceuvmind

@topgunbb

@starlightstories

@mattyskies

@little-wiseone

@desert-fern

@wh0re4zaynmalik

@fuzzybluebird

@emmymaehereeeeee

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader

3K notes · View notes

snazzi-strawberri-artz · 4 months

Text

THE POWERPUFF GIRLIES!!!! :3333

Notes and sketches below!!

Heres my initial sketch of them!! you can see for bubble that i planned to give her like those poofy kind of leg warmers that are super cute, but then i realized that blossom already had leg warmers herself so i had to scrap that idea 😭😭

But yeah for Buttercup, since theyre more on the rough n tough and tomboyish kind of personality (according to google), im sure they want to show off their battle scars and muscles that theyve accumilated on their arms HAHA and also to really sell their toughness i gave them the Iconic skull shirt 🙏

For Blossom, according to Google she has "genius level intelligence", so ofc i tried to make her look nerdy, yet also fashionable at the same time >B] And i aslo really wanted to exagerate her ponytail and bangs to become a big ass triangles to give a really unique sillhouette! :O

As for Bubbles, I had a first design for her outfit that did not cut out: (excuse the lack of head)

I think its very cute, very childish and lots of ruffles, but it didnt hit a certain OOMPH the others had! And im glad i redesigned her outfit because the current one is SOOO CUTE I WISH I HAD IT IRLL LIKE LOOK AT THESE CUTE ASS FLOWER BUTTONS. LOOK AT IT

I NEED YOU. AND ALSO i think Bubbles would be the kind of kid that likes beaded accesories!! Thats why i gave em alot of that xD Totally not self inserting or anything

But yes moving on to the cleaned lineart and flat colors!:

The colors are so so so different compared to the final drawing because of my beloved COLOR FILTERS BABEEYYY I LOVE YOU COLOR CORRECTION I LOVE YOU BRIGHTNESS AND CONTRAST CORRECTION MUAH MUAHH

OH YEAH and it was also at this point that i wanted to give them their individual patterns!! buttercup has the military pattern because its green n cool n edgy, blossom has the plaid pattern because it reminds me of those preppy school uniforms designs, and bubbles has dot patterns on their jumper because uh. Bubbles!

But one design element that i wanted to be consistent between the 3 of them was that they all would have black shoes, just like in their og design :D

But yeah thats all from me!! Say "Berri is so so BEAUTIFUL" in the tags or comments if youve read this far >B]]

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanart #i might make their hero outfit designs!!!!#i have some vague ideas?#but yes this was very fun >:] i hadnt had any time to draw or design characters so this rlly gave me the art rush i needed!!

173 notes · View notes

loveronlineee · 2 years

Text

The Little Things Part 2 (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist All Parts

Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: None

Synopsis: Y/N puts eyeliner on Eddie (That’s it. That’s all you need to know.)

Y/N notes: none

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

“Good evening gents!” Eddie shouted as he sauntered into their club room. The group turned to see their dungeon master, They were already setup and waiting for him.

“Eddie where the hell have you been? We were supposed to start like 15 minutes ago!” Dustin whined.

“I’m afraid there was a fair maiden in need of saving.” Eddie explained as he sat down. He put both his hands on the table, examining the set up.

“A fair maiden?” Dustin repeated, sceptical. Mike looked down at Eddie’s hands, noticing his decorated nails.

“Y/N L/N?!” Mike questioned. Eddie just smiled and winked. “No way dude.”

“I’ll have you know Wheeler, that L/N and I are very. Good. Friends.” Eddie replied, putting emphasis on his last three words. He was riding the high of the afternoon he had had with Y/N. It actually made the D&D session better as Eddie was even more in character than usual.

As the club filtered out, Dustin and Mike brought it up again.

“Y/N L/N. Really?” Mike asked for the millionth time.

“Yes Wheeler. Really.” Eddie replied as the cold night air hit them.

“I still don’t buy it.” Dustin shook his head. Eddie walked backwards towards his van.

“You shall see sceptical one. Tomorrow morning. Before school.” He did finger guns at them before getting into his van and driving off.

The next morning arrived. Eddie sat in his van in the car park listening to music, drumming on the steering wheel as he watched students filter into the building. He heard a knock on his side window. Y/N was there, smiling at him. He couldn’t help but smile back. He watched as she ran around the front and got into the passenger seat. She held up her eyeliner pencil.

“You ready?” She asked excitedly, already taking the lid off. Eddie chuckled.

“As long as you don’t take my eye out L/N.”

“Can’t make any promises Eddie.” She joked back. She held Eddie’s chin and moved him to face her. The girl scanned then furrowed her eyebrows in thought. Eddie was just appreciating how close they were to each other again. Her hand felt so soft on his face. He wanted to put his hand on top but resisted the urge.

“Everything okay?” He asked, after a few seconds of silence. Y/N let go of his face and began getting up.

“I can’t get a good view from here. Do you mind?” She moved over to sit on Eddie’s lap, facing him. The metal head’s eyes widened as he watched her get on top of him. His arms reflexively went up so they were in mid air. He could feel his nerves rising. Y/N noted his slight panic.

“You good?” Eddie paused before replying quietly.

“I don’t know where to put my hands.” Y/N chuckled and guided his hands to rest on her hips.

“Here okay?”

“Y-Yeah.” Eddie managed to reply, still processing what was happening.

“Okay try to stay still.” Once she started, Eddie managed to relax a little and actually enjoy the experience. He didn’t want to move his hands in case he did something wrong. Instead he focused on Y/N’s face, still deep in concentration. One hand held his chin, tilting his head back, the other holding the pencil. “You gotta look up.”

“But what if I wanna look at you?” Eddie mumbled but Y/N definitely caught it. She couldn’t help but smile at that response. Still, she was determined to do what she set out to.

“You can look at me all you want when I’m done.” Eddie looked up.

“All I want?”

“Aaaaaaaall you want.” Y/N replied, drawing across Eddie’s waterline. She tried to keep it steady as Eddie’s grin changed the shape of his eyes. She finally pulled away.

“How do I look L/N?”

“Pretty.” Eddie’s smile grew wider at her response.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Y/N moved his hair away from his eyes to admire her work.

“You got anything else for me?” Eddie asked. Y/N cocked her head to the side.

“Hmm… I wish I’d brought my tinted lip gloss. But that probably would have been too much.” She replied, letting herself think out loud. Eddie shrugged.

“I’d be up for it.” Y/N nodded.

“Okay I’ll remember it for tomorro-“

“You’re wearing it right now aren’t you?” Eddie questioned.

“Yeah?” Y/N replied cautiously.

“Well there is one way I can wear your lip gloss then.” Eddie stated. Y/N hesitated for a moment. She slowly leaned forward. Eddie closed his eyes and waited patiently to feel Y/N’s lips on his.

She tasted soft and sweet. Even in just a simple kiss, he felt his world spinning. He opened his eyes again as he felt her pull away. She stared at him quizzically before cleaning up the corners of his mouth with her finger.

“Not sure if it suits you…”

“Y/N you can’t be serious.”

“What?” Y/N questioned.

“You can’t tell me that the only reason you did that was to see how I’d look with the lip gloss on.” Y/N chuckled.

“I didn’t say that.” Eddie finally smiled back at her again. They heard the school bell ring from the building. “Shit I’m gonna be late.”

Y/N spun herself around so that she was still sat on him, but now facing the front. She pulled down the mirror to fix her own lip gloss and couldn’t help but notice Eddie staring. She also couldn’t ignore how his arms had wrapped around her waist. No matter how warm and comforting it felt, she needed to go. “Eddie come on.”

“We can be a little late.” Eddie mumbled into her neck. Y/N chuckled as she pulled herself out of his grasp.

“Nope we gotta go.” The metal head sighed but didn’t protest anymore. He followed Y/N out of his van and to the front entrance. That’s when he spotted Dustin and Mike staring at them, mouths slightly open in disbelief. Eddie wasn’t sure how much they had seen but it was definitely at least Y/N sitting on his lap in his van. Y/N turned back to him one last time. “I’ll see you later!” Eddie waved as she disappeared inside.

“How the hell..?” Mike managed to say. Eddie just winked at them and walked past.

“Told ya boys.”

#eddie munson #reader x Eddie Munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things season four #stranger things season 4 #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steddie #reader x Steve harrington #st steddie

5K notes · View notes

thefallennightmare · 6 months

Text

Miracle-nineteen

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: only happy moments from here on out.

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98 @omens-in-reverse @loverofagoodbeard @jay02bo @niicoleleigh

My screams echoed throughout the neighborhood as I felt myself falling fast towards the ground; my death. I tensed my body for the impact, knowing that impact would either severely injure me or kill me. I could hear muffled yelling under the loud sounds of sirens that dulled out my screams. Right as I was about to hit, two pairs of arms caught me and we all ended up tumbling to the ground.

"Shit," the body underneath me cursed.

Even with the cushion, my body screamed in agony and I tried to move but hissed in pain.

Jolly, who was the one underneath me, slowly rolled my onto the ground while Nick, who was the other that caught me, held my head straight so I wouldn't do anymore damage that I might have already caused.

"Y/N," Folio was quick to kneel at my side. "Don't move, alright? It sounds like paramedics are almost here."

Tears streamed down my face as I tried to sit up, Jolly and Folio holding both of my arms down.

"Noah," I coughed out his name. "Where's Noah?"

Nick stared up at the still-burning blaze. "I don't know."

The sheer fear in his voice made the others share a look which made me with strength I didn't know I possessed, push them away to get to my feet; albeit slow.

"Y/N," Folio stepped in front of me. "You can't go back inside."

"It's Noah!" I exclaimed with wide eyes.

He nodded. "I know. But it's dangerous if you go back inside. You already inhaled too much smoke and your hand is severely burned. You need to get checked out."

Just then the front lawn was swarmed with various fire trucks and paramedics as they began shouting orders.

I gazed up at the house that was slowly crumbling and let out a strangled sob. "He went inside for me and he hasn't come back out. What if something happened to him?"

Jolly wrapped an arm around me to force me away from the blaze. "Noah will be fine. Let's get you checked out.

Reluctantly, I allowed him to steer me towards the open back of an ambulance as one paramedic was waiting.

"Who's hurt?" The young brunette asked.

Jolly motioned towards me. "I'm not sure how much smoke she inhaled, but she burned her hand pretty good."

The paramedic forced me to sit on the edge of the ambulance as she wrapped an oxygen mask around my neck.

"Leave this over your mouth for a few minutes, it will help you breathe."

I pushed it away. "There's someone still inside. He came back for me but hasn't come out."

She turned to call someone over. "Chief, she's saying someone's inside."

The fire chief gave me a stern look. "Just one?"

"Yes, as far as I know. I was on the lattice but couldn't make it down so he must have gone inside from the back where the fire hasn't reached."

Although now, the entire house was up in a roaring blaze, the smoke filtering high into the dark night sky. My neighbors from around the street were perched on their porches watching the entire thing unfold.

"Please," I begged with tears. "You have to find him."

The chief nodded before barking orders into his radio.

"Breathe this in." The paramedic gently placed the mask over my mouth and nose so I can breathe in the oxygen while she assessed the burn on my wrist and hand.

"It's nothing serious but we still need to treat it at the hospital."

Jolly nodded as Nick and Folio hung back. "Folio, you go with her. I'll stay back with Nick."

"No!" I ripped off the mask. "I'm not leaving with Noah."

The paramedic this time forced the mask back over my face and with an ice-cold glare at her, I held it there.

Folio's gentle touch brushed some hair away from my soot-covered forehead as we all stared up at the house, anxiously waiting for any hint of Noah. My knee bounced in tangent with how fast my heart was beating and the tears wouldn't stop falling. I was a wreck, body shivering from the pain and adrenaline, not yet calming down.

The fire chief returned to me. "Can you tell me how the fire started?"

The paramedic was wrapping up my burned hand, so I didn't do further damage and when she nodded, I let the mask fall from my face. "I don't know. I was asleep and woke up to my bedroom full of smoke."

"Did you leave a candle burning or anything like that?"

"No," I answered with a stern voice. "Whatever caused this fire wasn't my fault."

"Chief, we got a body! He's burned but has a pulse, it's weak but there. We're coming out!"

I shared a horrid look with the guys and almost pushed my way past the paramedic and fire chief when movement from the front of the house caught my attention. Two firefighters were carrying a limp body through the yard before handing him off to another group of paramedics.

"No," I sobbed while trying to run over to him.

Folio's arms held me in place as I fought against him. "Let me go! I have to see. Please Folio, please."

Tears pooled in his eyes as his lips parted to speak but nothing came out, his voice gone. Just as important Noah was to me, he was their brother so I couldn't fathom to know what was going through their own minds as we all watched the paramedic work on the burned body.

My mind was running through so many thoughts about what the outcome would be. I shouldn't have taking things so with him. It was only because I was afraid of falling so completely into someone. I was so used to putting other's wants and needs before my own that when it was time to find something good; I refused because I thought I didn't deserve it.

Noah was that for me. Even with our rough start, he was proving to me I was the one for him; past trauma and all. He ran into a fucking burning building for me. Who does that?

Someone in love.

No, I shook the thought from my head. Noah didn't love me. He cared deeply for me but love. There was no way.

I turned to look at Nick. "What were you guys doing here?"

"We just got back to Jolly's place and Noah kept saying he had a bad feeling in his gut like something was wrong. He tried calling you but you didn't answer so we drove over here to make sure you were fine."

"And that's when we saw the fire," Jolly let out a broken breath.

Folio gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I'd never seen Noah that freaked before."

Bloodshot eyes glanced over to the body on the stretcher a few feet in front of me as the paramedics worked on hooking him up to oxygen and cover the burned parts of his body. His face wasn't burned, but it was swollen and bloody, almost unrecognizable. Almost as if he was in a fight. I stared intently to the only patch of skin on the left arm that wasn't burned and raised a brow.

Bare skin, no tattoo in sight and my jaw dropped with the realization.

At that moment, a voice crackled through the radio of the fire chief, my heart falling straight out of my ass.

"Chief, we found another one!"

"There was someone else inside?" Nick asked.

It was clear since this burned body wasn't Noah but who the hell was it? And where the fuck was Noah?

"Angel!"

Turning on my heels, Folio's arm falling from my shoulder, I watched in sheer relief when Noah walked through the front door, flames dancing behind him onto the lawn. His hair was disheveled and black soot covered almost every inch of him as he leaned over to cough, hands gripping his knees. Seeing that he was alive made my heart sore in my fucking throat as my stomach warmed my entire existence with a rush I'd never felt before.

Oh. Shit.

Was this love?

"Noah!" I screamed before running over to him.

He caught me midair as my legs wrapped around him, Noah stumbling over his feet but remained standing. My hands cupped his cheeks as I looked over every inch of his face making sure he wasn't hurt. But expecting to see burns, it shocked me to see cuts and a forming bruise around his eye.

"What the hell happened?" I asked.

Noah gently set me on my feet but kept his arms around me. "Are you alright? How'd you get down?"

I let him ignore my question for a moment to let him know I was fine.

"Jolly and Nick caught me, well more-so fell on top of them. But I'm okay," I cupped his cheek with my non injured hand.

Noah leaned into my touch and left a soft kiss to the inside of my palm. "I'm alright, angel."

Paramedics rushed over to bring us back to the ambulance so they could check over Noah, who in fact was fine. He told them he wasn't near the flames and mostly inhaled a lot of smoke, so they hooked him up to an oxygen mask. His hand never left the embrace of mine as I stood right next to him, brushing away the strands of hair away from his face.

"You're fucking insane," Folio seethed once the paramedic's determined Noah was fine and let us all talk amongst ourselves.

Noah shrugged before looking at me. "You all would have done the same thing."

"You could have died, Noah," I quaked.

"I'm okay, angel. I promise," he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze for added comfort.

"Then why do you look like you got into a fight with the fire?" Nick motioned to the cuts and bruise.

I felt Noah tense next to me as he stared at the body being hauled into the other ambulance.

"It was James. I found him inside pouring more gasoline into the part of the house that wasn't burning."

I choked out a gasp as the ambulance drove away. James set the fire. Why? Didn't he want the house?

"He told me that if he couldn't get the house, he'd make sure Y/N wouldn't have it. Though he didn't expect us to be here, he must have been following our band page because he thought we were still at the festival."

"Wait," I shook my head then looked down at Noah, who was still sitting on the edge of the ambulance. "James knew I was inside alone and still set the fire?"

"You made it out and James got what he deserved." Noah assured by pulling me into him so he could press his face against my shoulder. "I'm so glad we made it here when we did."

I laid my cheek against the top of his head and let him hold me tight, knowing that walking up to the scene of my house on fire and me hanging from it must have been a scary sight.

Jolly sighed before motioning behind Folio. "The cops are here."

Just then an officer walked up to the group of us and gave us a small smile. "Who lives here?"

"I do," I lifted my head away from Noah.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

For the next few moments, all of us gave the officer our statements on what happened and as Noah told his, my stomach dropped hearing how he fought James in hopes to stop him from starting another fire which ultimately caused him to set himself on fire.

The officer closed his notebook with a long sigh. "We had a hunch it was arson because of the strong smell of gasoline but an investigation still needs to take place which could take a while. The paramedics said you should go to the hospital to get that hand checked out?"

I nodded. "Um, can you tell me what will happen to James?"

"As of right now he's stable but can't speak with him until the hospital checks him out. When we do, you'll be the first to know."

"Thank you, officer." Nick smiled.

Noah slowly stood to his feet with a groan and hand to his chest. "We should get Y/N to the hospital."

I frowned. "Are you sure you're alright? It sounds like you're struggling to breathe."

"Don't worry about me. Let's take care of you first, alright?" He kissed my forehead, and I melted into him, letting his strong embrace ease the erratic pounding of my heart that hadn't stopped since I woke up.

We watched for a few long moments as the firefighters doused the flames with water, what once was my home now reduced to rubble and ash. Everything I owned gone in a matter of seconds. Where would I go? I had nothing, no money, and the clothes on my back were burned and ruined.

Noah looked into my eyes, almost as if he could read my mind, and pulled me tighter to his chest. He breathed me in as his lips brushed over the top of my head.

"I've lost everything," I cried into his chest. "What the fuck did I do in life to deserve this? It's one thing after the other. I just want a fucking break, Noah. Please. I can't."

I sobbed uncontrollably into his chest as his hands ran soothing circles over my back, his soft voice cooing in my ear.

"It's not fair!" I wailed while pulling away from his chest so I could look up at him. "I did everything right! I took care of my mom when she was sick. I made sure she had everything she needed to fight her disease. I gave her everything, and she repaid me by lying about my entire life!"

Suddenly everything I've gone through the last few weeks came crashing down and I let myself to break down in Noah's arms. His thumb brushed away the tears as they continued to fall, the salty taste bitter on my tongue.

"Everything is gone. I tried to get my laptop that had pictures of all of us but I-I couldn't," I hiccupped. "That's all I care about and it's gone. I wasted time in grabbing pictures of my mom when I could have grabbed something more valuable and important."

With a shaky breath, I continued. "I have nowhere to go, Noah. No where to live. I can't afford a hotel or another apartment."

"Hey," Noah lifted my chin up towards him. "We'll get those pictures back, alright? What's important is that you're alive and here. With me; with us. You can stay with me and Jolly."

The latter agreed with a smile. "There's no way we would leave you alone, Y/N."

My bottom lip trembled with a sob. "I don't deser-."

The words died as Noah pressed his lips to mine in a short but hungry kiss, his tongue brushing over my own as it explored my mouth. My hands grasped at his shirt to pull him closer, needing the friction to feel something. These negative events made my body go numb but with Noah's lips on mine, I'd never felt more alive.

"Don't you dare fucking say you don't deserve it angel because you do. You deserve the fucking world and I'll make sure you realize that, no matter what it takes."

Lips still swollen from the kiss and heart pounding heart against my chest all I could do was nod, not finding the strength to speak.

Folio stepped up to us. "The paramedics are ready to take you two to the hospital."

With one more kiss to my lips, Noah led me away from my crumbling past as the tears continued to dry to my face. For the first time in a long time, I let out a deep breath of relief and looked forward to whatever the future held even if the guilt still ate away at me.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #forced proximity #enemies to lovers #slow burn

233 notes · View notes

mothdruid · 1 day

Text

Within the past 72 hours the TGM fandom got a fire put under it's ass, for lack of a better term/phrase. Even though I'm not as active in the fandom anymore, it did make me want to talk about a few things. This isn't the first time that I've had to make a post similar to this, usually speaking about reblogs and keeping your fanfic writers feeling wanted within the fandom spaces, but today I'm going to talk more about fandom etiquette and my experiences in fandom spaces. So, if you want to hear my opinion on fandom etiquette, how I learned fandom etiquette, and my thoughts about the doxing situation that has happened, keep on reading.

My Fandom Experience.

The first fandom that I was ever a part of was The Hunger Games fandom in the 8th grade (if you don't include my anime fandoms). I was 12-13 at the time. This was when I was first introduced to Tumblr and being involved within a fandom online. At the time I was super young, barely even knew who I was as a person, let alone in a fandom space. All I did was reblog little gifsets and fawn over Josh Hutcherson. I remember getting my first hate anon, even though I didn't do anything that would generate that to even happen. Even when I was 12-13, I couldn't understand why anyone would send a hate anon. That was when I found out a friend of mine found my Tumblr and actually secretly hated me, so she sent me hate anons. Still, before I knew it was her I didn't understand.

Fandoms were a formative part of my childhood. I think that main one that helped form me though was the Supernatural (yeah, I know, eye roll), Naruto, and The Hobbit fandoms. I had made friends on Tumblr and Instagram through these fandoms. During these times was when I had first started consuming fanfiction. Specifically, destiel and thilbo fanfiction. This is how I started to find the things in fanfiction that I loved, and the things that I hated. Instead of sending hate to the writers for their thoughts and stories that I didn't agree with, I would back out of the story or just scroll past. Not only that, I also started to use the filters on AO3 constantly, ensuring that I was only reading the fics that I knew I'd enjoy. Also, I was careful to read warnings and tags prior to reading the fic. Never once did I blame the writer for something that I knew I didn't like and accidentally read or read for see what it was about.

After high school was when I started getting into fanfiction writing. I've written for a lot of fandoms during this time. The IT movies, Total Drama, Haikyuu, Attack on Titan, Marvel, Bridgerton, Top Gun: Maverick, and currently ASOIAF. As a writer I've never gotten hate, thankfully, but I have had a lot of friends that have. It's sad to see so many people who take the time to write, whether it's enjoyable or not, receive hate. As writers we are simply expressing our creativity for the things that we love. Since posting fanfiction on tumblr, I have experienced a lot of people pestering for new updates and when the next fic is, and so have a lot of other writers on here. Even though people only know us as a little icon and username, fanfiction writers are people. We have lives outside of writing fanfiction. Everyone also isn't the same type writer. One person may easily write multiple fics every week, some of us take longer, and some of us are even just passion writers (me lol).

The TGM fandom has been one of the most negative fandom experiences I've ever seen/had. It is full of some of the meanest people/anons I've ever seen. From writers being attacked for fic ideas, people being sent hate for something that the anon has full control over, and people constantly expecting new stories to read on the daily. Yes, I do know that other fandoms have these issues, but it seems to be almost a weekly, hell, even daily thing within this fandom. A lot of the issues that I see happen in this fandom are from people who don't understand fandom etiquette.

Fandom Etiquette.

If you had noticed there was a few things I put in bold above. These are key things that I learned during my time that attribute to fandom etiquette. So without further a do, I'll list out some fandom etiquette rules that I follow all the time.

Don't send hate anons to people

Block/unfollow people you don't like

If you don't like an idea or fic, don't read it

Read through all warnings and tags that the writer provided

Use AO3 filters

Don't blame the writer/creator for reading things they created that you actively know you don't like

Writers/Creators aren't "content farms"

There are people behind these blogs/usernames, treat them like someone you'd see on the street

Writers/Creators are expressing love/passion for something, don't hate them for doing that

If you see something fandom related that you don't like, scroll past it or ignore it

YOU CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE (ESPECIALLY ON TUMBLR)

The Doxing Situation.

For those who are unaware but decided to read this anyways, recently there was a writer (Mama Mayhem) on here who got doxed from another writer in the fandom. Mayhem has since lost her job due to the doxing. This was apparently from her breaking HIPAA by posting a picture into a private groupchat/discord. This picture was posted almost a half year ago. Meaning that the person who reported/doxed Mayhem had known about this picture for months and only recently decided to do something about it.

I'll start by saying that I also work in healthcare, and know many other people here who do. I understand that a HIPAA violation is 100% an offense that gets you fired. I'm not excusing the HIPAA violation if one did occur.

Some people have brought up the idea that maybe the person that reported the picture, and doxed Mayhem, was doing it out of the goodness of their heart. Due to the timeline of it all, that doesn't seem likely. I had a previous coworker get fired for HIPAA violations and it took a total of a week from the initial report for her to be gone.

The biggest thing I want to convey is that TWO WRONGS CAN HAPPEN AT THE SAME TIME. Yes, if Mayhem violated HIPAA, it is wrong. But at the same time, the person held onto this information for months only to use it out of spite, pettiness, and cruelty, is wrong.

My Thoughts.

Due to Mayhem being doxed, a lot of people have decided to leave this platform, take indefinite hiatuses, stop writing, or move to AO3 exclusively., and I don't blame them. I'll be honest, I'm thinking about moving to AO3 exclusively now. AO3 feels a lot more rewarding in my experience. I already only post my fics for ships to AO3, so why not just post everything on AO3 (which I usually do).

I think a lot of people have forgot what it feels like to feel shame in something they say or do. When I say this, it's directed towards people who send hate or do other malicious things in fandom spaces. Fandoms were never this clique-ish and mean. I think it has to do with the pandemic, meaning that a lot of people who would have never joined a fandom did because they weren't allowed to do anything outside of their house. So, those mean girls that made fun of fandom girlies (g/n) previously, joined the fandoms and decided started bullying the people within them.

This situation is super shitty and people are now scared. It makes complete sense, especially after seeing someone, that many of you were close to, be doxed. A lot of people are scared of it happening to them now. I don't think this fandom will be the same after this situation, but who knows, maybe everyone will just forget and move on. Either way, I think I'll be taking a step back from the TGM fandom. I'll still be here, but until further notice, I won't be posting any TGM fanfiction. Maybe a gifset/picture here and there, but I don't think this is a fandom I feel comfortable writing for anymore.

If you've read all of this, thank you.

#moth talks #here it is #sorry it's so long but i couldn't convey my thoughts any other way

79 notes · View notes

shadow1515 · 3 days

Text

Too Sweet

Pairing: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard/Female, Surface Reader Word Count: 5,138 Warnings: a lot, rape/non-con, older man (he’s a zombie basically)/younger woman (reader is 20), monster fucking, size kink, rough sex, gun play, blood kink, glove kink?, loss of virginity, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie Summary: Your father dead, brother gone in search for his killers, mother gone in search for him, you were left alone in the wilderness. You thought you knew how to take care of yourself, but that idea is challenged when a certain ghoul in a cowboy hat shows up at your dining room table. Tags: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. READ THE WARNINGS. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. Please, read the warnings, if any of this triggers you do not continue!!!!!!!!!! Note: first post here, but i also posted on ao3 where i have posted fics before... just... bear with me, the brain rot was real for this one. I have never written anything at this level of depravity but this yucky looking man without a nose took hold of me and I had to write this. I did most of it when I should have been studying for a quiz, but it's fineeeee. Anyway, please enjoy this 5k word piece of filth that was only read through once…… (And yes the title is based off Hozier’s song Too Sweet.)

You were born and raised on the surface with its sandy horizons and burning sun, but your life was definitely better than most others who live on the surface of this godforsaken world. Your parents had found a nice place with tons of supplies, the ability to grow plants, a water filter, and it was hidden fairly well. You weren’t entirely sure how they had found such a haven in the wasteland, but honestly you couldn’t complain too much. Alongside your older brother, you grew up knowing how to grow your own food, hunt, defend yourself, create booby traps, the normal things every kid grew up learning. You were also one of the lucky few that was taught how to read and write as your mother had been taught by her parents and passed it onto you and your brother, something you were forever grateful for.

Books were a solace for you, one of the few you could find, especially after your brother ran off to god knows where and your mother went off in search of him just a few months ago. After your father passed away three years ago, your brother felt it necessary to be the “man of the house” and make sure you and your mother were taken care of. It wasn’t that you were ungrateful for his protection and watchful eye, but he could be a little extreme at times. Your father died just over a year ago, and it was hard on all of you. Perhaps your brother took it a bit harder since he never showed his sadness about it… only his anger. See, your father was killed by some raiders on one of his outings to get more supplies. Your brother was with him when it happened but managed to escape. You were almost one hundred percent sure that was where your brother had gone; looking for your father’s killers.

Unfortunately, that had been just over four months ago. A few days ago your mother grew sick of it and went to try and find your brother, leaving you all alone. You knew how to protect yourself and make sure the house was protected and hidden, but that didn’t mean you liked being alone or that you didn’t worry every day about your missing family. In fact, it made it worse.

You felt your patience and sanity wearing thin as the days went on and you heard nothing from your mother or brother. You were worried sick, the only things keeping you from running off by yourself were tending to the farm and the chickens, checking on the water filter, reading your books, really anything to distract you from the inevitable truth;that your family was dead.

One day, you were out tending to the livestock and farms for most of the day. It was starting to get dark and mostly everything was done, so it was about time to head inside for the night. As soon as you opened the door, you could tell something was off. Maybe it was the slightly larger, sandy footprints through the hallway, or the way that everything around you seemed to stand still, either way you knew something was wrong. Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough. Even with your added paranoia from being alone for a few days, your reflexes couldn’t have prepared you enough for the sight of a man… no, a ghoul, lounging at your dining table. Seat pulled back, feet on the table, fingers lazily playing with the trigger of the sawed off shotgun that was pointed directly at you.

Part of his face was obscured by a ragged hat, but you could still tell that he was a ghoul, his face covered in scars, red and shiny from the radiation. He slowly lifted his head, dark eyes shining in the setting sun streaming through the window, the black hole where his nose should have been even more prominent as his gaze slowly trailed from your muddy boots up your bare legs (you wanted to wear shorts, it was hot out), across your curves until they finally landed on your face, lingering on your parted lips for a moment too long in your opinion.

Your eyes, on the other hand, kept on moving between his ruined face to the gun pointed at you in quick succession, not knowing which to focus on more. Before you could think of doing anything else, he finally spoke.

“Well, sweetheart, seems you found yourself in quite the predicament here.” The words roll off his tongue easily, like they were practiced, used, normal for him to utter. That nickname too, so antagonizing and belittling with just two syllables. It made your blood boil… not like that… right?

You attempted to speak, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, your eyes still flicking between the barrel of the gun and the ruined face before you. Your very apparent lack of thoughts and speech only made the ghoul chuckle. It was a deep sound, like a rumble of the earth during a thunderstorm, the vibrations running all through your body, unyielding to the forces that surround you.

“Cat got your tongue, darlin’?”

The question was not meant to be answered, in fact it made all semblance of words leave your mouth entirely. He stood up then, the spurs on his boots startling you as he took step after step closer to you, the gun in his hand hanging loosely at his side. At first, you didn’t move, but as he got closer, you took a fearful step back, not realizing until it was too late that he maneuvered you in such a way as he was getting closer so now your back was flush against the wall. The ghoul was close now, too close, so close you could feel his body heat, the stench of his breath from his yellowed mouth, the gunpowder and cigarettes and booze that lingered on him like a haze after a fire. He was terrifying.

You let out a pathetic squeak as the end of his shotgun found its place underneath your chin, tilting your head up to make sure you looked him directly in the eyes. His eyes weren’t an evil yellow or filled with contempt, they were a deep brown, a soft brown, and they were filled with an emotion you really could not place. The position you were in was compromising, with his face inches from your own (his hips inches from your own). And that look in his eyes. Why couldn’t you figure it out?

The cool metal of the gun felt as if it was burning you as he tipped your head back just a bit more, his dark eyes focused on yours, “Ain’t you just a sweet little thing, all alone, no way of protectin’ yourself.” You did have a way of protecting yourself, it was called booby traps that he somehow managed to get by, but you bit your tongue.

“What do you want with me?” You managed to speak that one question that was burning in your mind in spite of the shivers of fear that ran down your spine as your chin moved the shotgun touching it.

At that little comment from you, the ghoul smirked like the bastard he was, “Well you see, missy,” You felt a surge of relief followed quickly by terror again as the gun left your chin only to trail down your neck and land on the collar of your tank top, a collar that was already pretty low cut (again, it was hot). The barrel caught in the fabric as he continued to speak, “I have it on good information that this little abode of yours happens to also be the home of a stupid boy who crossed paths with the wrong man.”

Your heart sank. You knew exactly what he was referring to. Your fucking brother, off doing who knows what, stirring up the worst kind of trouble. He wanted to avenge your father, you knew that, but did he not think? Of course he didn’t. He thought it would be all unicorns and daisies as he tracked down a pack of murderers. Why would he think twice about the trouble that would bring onto you?

“Look, I–” You gave a dry swallow as the gun at your chest pushed further beneath your shirt, just shy away from tugging it to the side and taking a peek. “You’re looking for my brother, right? I-I don’t know where he is. He left months ago and then my mother–” You cut yourself off, you didn’t want your mother caught up as this bounty hunter’s prey as well.

The ghoul cocked his head to the side, eyes never leaving your face even as the gun moved the fabric of your tank top to the side, your cleavage very obviously there for the looking. “Don’t let me stop you, sweetheart. Please, tell me more about your dear mama.”

You felt the tears on your cheeks before you realized they even formed in the first place. Why did this have to happen? You were blessed, you knew that, with this home and your family, but that didn’t mean you had to have horrible things happen to you as well. You already lost your father, your brother and mother were gone, but you didn’t do anything.

The ghoul’s gaze followed the tears as they trailed down your face, a twisted pleasure running through him as he watched them. You were too sweet for this world, too sweet for a man like him to find you all alone like this.

Without much extra thought, you felt the ghoul position his leg between yours, the rough material of his pants around his thigh immediately rubbing against the cloth covering your bottom half. The movement caught you off guard and another gasp of surprise left your mouth, a fresh wave of tears trailing down your face. So that was what he wanted… Growing up you learned what it was that made babies, the simple things like that, but you were sheltered, never leaving your home or the confines of your land, much preferring to stay with your family and not venture out into the dangerous unknown. And it was made dangerous because men, of things, like him.

“Awh, what is it, darlin’?” You heard the gun click into its holster at his side, one hand moving to grip your hip with a strength that really shouldn’t have shocked you, the other moving towards your face, his gloved thumb swiping at the tears gathering there. You mewled again as his thigh moved, the rough fabric causing unwanted friction in an unwanted place. “You scared of little ol’ me?”

“Please,” The fear you felt before only grew as the realization dawned on you. He wanted information and he knew the only way of getting it out of you would be to hurt you… but that didn’t have to mean just cuts and bruises, especially for a man like him. “Please don’t do this. I- I don’t know anything else.”

You knew it was a lie, he knew it was a lie. You just wanted to protect your mother, and maybe you could convince him of that. At least, you hoped you could.

The ghoul moved the hand on your face down, resting on the collar of your shirt, “Sweetheart, you really don’t know how the world works out there, do ya?” His face moved closer to yours, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, “It’s eat or be eaten, darlin’, and you ain’t telling me what I wanna know.”

“But-” You hiccuped as fresh tears left your eyes, “But I don’t know anythi–”

A sharp gasp that bordered on a scream escaped you as the hand at your hip left to join the other one and a loud ripping sound invaded your senses, your tank top now ripped clean down the middle, exposing your breasts to him.

Damn, your skin was so soft. Not a scar on your body, just some dirt and scrapes from working outside. The sweat from the sun still lingered on your skin, making it glow, and that scent, it alone was enough to make a ghoul go feral. But he could stave off that feeling if he found a way to get rid of it.

The ghoul’s eyes found yours again in spite of your breasts being right there. “Sweet thing,” God you hated how small his nicknames made you feel. “I don’t think you’re understandin’ still. I got a bounty to find, you know how to find ‘em, and, well, I know a fun way to get it outta ya.”

At that last comment you felt the rough leather of his gloves finally touch your breast, squeezing and toying with them in a way you never thought possible. His hands were everywhere, twisting, rough, strong, it made your skin sweat and your back arch. You whimpered as he tugged at your nipples, the pain mixed with a different feeling, one that didn’t feel that bad. As your back arched, your hips unintentionally bumped against his and you felt something hard poke at you. Your eyes widened in shock, the nice feeling from before immediately dissipating as your situation dawned on you again. With that thought, a renewed vigor filled you, your hand clenching in a fist that was raised and swung at the monster’s face.

Your punch landed with a loud thud but to your horror he didn’t even flinch, just stopped his ministrations on your breasts to glare at you, his anger radiating off of him in waves.

A cruel smirk grew on his scarred face, “There’s that fight I was looking for.”

His sentence was punctuated with a harsh slap across your face, the force making your vision blink out for a couple of seconds as your head swung to the side. You tasted blood in your mouth and felt a strong hand grip your jaw, harshly moving your head so that it faced him again.

“You wanna try that again, sweetheart, or are ya gonna tell me what I wanna know?”

Despite your fear and the knowledge that this man, this ghoul, could kill you in a matter of seconds, it would take more than that to get you to give up your mother and brother to him. With that thought in mind, you gathered up some of the blood in your mouth and spit at him, the red liquid splattering over his already reddened face.

The hand at your jaw moved to grip your throat, squeezing just enough to cause discomfort and fear that he could do much worse. You watched in horror as his free hand then moved to gather up some of the blood on his face, the finger now sticky and shiny with it moving to his mouth as he licked it clean, a face of pure pleasure overcoming him as he tasted you.

“You taste sweeter than apple pie,” Your throat was squeezed tighter as his face grew closer to yours, his missing nose making it easier to invade your space. “And that just makes me wanna taste you even more.”

His head immediately moved to your neck where you felt his hot breath on your shoulder, his hand moved to grab at your face to keep you from moving. You squirmed in his grasp as you felt a rough tongue drag against your skin, the feeling foreign to you. It seemed like he really was tasting you, licking at the sweat and grime that coated your skin, savoring the taste. Your body tried to wriggle free, a scream warbled by the grip he had on your cheeks as you felt the blunt ends of his teeth bite deep into the juncture of your shoulder and neck. The force in which he bit down was sure to leave a mark, the abused flesh turning red and irritated almost immediately.

You wanted to pass out right then and there, your mind racing with thoughts of what he might do to you next. He lingered at your neck for a moment before giving it one last swipe of his tongue and returning to look you dead in the eyes, a wicked smile on his scarred skin. Your face was smushed together by his gloved hand and you watched as his gaze traveled back to your neck, back to the mark he left there. His hand quickly followed that gaze, trailing over the mark before gripping your throat again. You saw as the thoughts and emotions raced behind his eyes but you didn’t know where they would lead.

Without any more warning, the ghoul used the hand on your throat to swing you around, slamming your back onto the table. You tried to get out from under him, swinging your arms and legs wildly, screaming (not that anyone would hear you), trying to land a punch or a kick, anything to get away. The ghoul grabbed a hold of your wrists in one hand, pinning them to the table above your head as his free hand went to his waist, grabbing the shotgun from its holster and pointing at your face once again.

Your struggle stopped the moment you heard the holster pop open, your terror growing tenfold as you knew at this distance, one simple slip of his finger would cause your entire head to explode off your body. The ghoul’s smirk was horrible, devilish, and it turned your blood ice cold. He moved the barrel of the gun closer to you until it brushed against your pursed lips still stained red from your blood.

You knew what he wanted you to do, but you couldn’t, the thought making you want to die on the spot. The ghoul didn’t seem to like that, though, the barrel pushing against your lips more roughly.

“Open wide, darlin’” His voice was dark, gravely, filled with irritation but also wild interest, or perhaps lust. “You really don’t wanna make me even more angry.”

You looked deep into his eyes, the flakes of red across his face from your blood making him appear even more frightening, even more like a monster only seen in children’s stories. You knew if you hesitated any longer he’d be more than happy to pull the trigger and blow your head clean off. Your vision grew blurry as more tears formed, your mouth opening just the slightest amount to allow for the gun to slide past your lips. The taste of metal and gunpowder made you want to gag, your eyes finding the dark ones above you as a slow exhale of breath left the ghoul’s mouth, his gaze transfixed on the way his gun slid deep into your mouth.

“Ain’t that a sight,” He spoke in a low tone, voice filled with fascination.

The gun moved deeper into your mouth, the taste giving way to pain as it pushed against the back of your throat, your mouth wrapping painfully around it, stretching it in uncomfortable ways. You felt it begin to leave your mouth before pushing back in, the slow fucking of your throat by a gun making your tears only increase, the gaging sensation becoming more prominent. You tried to move your arms, to get the gun out of your mouth, but his grip was too strong, his fascination with the scene he created too enticing for him to stop. You felt a hard poke against your thighs as they draped over the end of the table and were pinned by the ghoul’s strong body. You continued to gag around the gun as he fucked it faster and rougher into your face, his breaths becoming louder above you. The hard poke from before rubbed against your thigh as he continued, unprovoked, or perhaps more enticed by your tears and the pathetic sounds attempting to leave around the thick barrel of his gun.

“It’s a damn good thing you ain’t out in the real world, pretty lady. You woulda been eaten right up the moment someone laid eyes on ya.”

His final comment was finished as the gun was shoved further down your throat, a garbled scream rising from you only to be smothered by the metal. He finally removed the weapon from your mouth, saliva making the metal glisten in the dying light from the sun outside. Your cheeks felt burning hot, covered in your tears and sweat as you were given some reprieve from his assault.

The ghoul looked over his gun, that same bastardly smirk still prominent on his face as he placed it back in its holster, leaving your spit still on it. “Now that was fun, wasn’t it sweetheart,” You tried to glare at him, but didn’t dare speak, your mouth too sore and abused. Your small fight made the ghoul chuckle again, the hand holding your wrists dragging you up from the table with a harsh yank. His face was inches from yours again as he held you in the air, the only thing keeping you from falling was his grip on your hands and his hips digging into yours against the table. “Wanna tell me where you dear mama is now?”

So this torture was still to get information out of you. You loved your mother, you couldn’t bear the thought of giving her up so easily just to save your own skin.

“Fuck you.” Your voice was strained, your throat throbbing in pain at each syllable.

“I hoped you’d say that.” With a shove, he threw you to the floor, moving to stand over you. With your limbs finally free, you scrambled to get away, but he was too quick, one heeled boot slamming down on your leg with enough force to stun you. You screamed out in pain, eyes going wide as you watched him reach for his belt, foot still pressed against your leg, keeping you from moving. His hands worked slowly, the terror building up in you at each passing second. His belt came off far too quickly followed by the button of his pants.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see where this was going. You heard the rustle of fabric as the ghoul removed his foot from your leg and went to straddle you, strong thighs on either side of your hips, one hand slammed against the floor beside your head, the other grabbing your jaw in a vice-like grip.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” You hesitated before giving in as his grip strengthened to the point of pain, making you gasp and your eyes fly open. “I want you to watch as I ruin you.”

The tears never seemed to stop, his hand leaving your jaw only to rip your shorts and panties down your legs in one harsh tug, the fabric burning against your too sensitive skin. You didn’t dare look down, your gaze staying fixed on his, hoping that if you didn’t look then it wasn’t actually going to happen.

In spite of your prayers, you felt the rough leather of a gloved finger run through your folds, a sharp intake of breath the only sound you made. Your attempts at staying quiet were soon overcome as his finger found that secret spot just at the top of your cunt, the roughness of the glove and the fear that was coursing through your blood made it even more sensitive and a small mewl of discomfort left your lips.

The ghoul continued to rub at your clit, your thighs beginning to shake, the sounds escaping your throat enough to make your skin boil in shame. “C’mon, pretty lady, do ya really wanna make this harder on yourself?” He went to whisper in your ear again, his fingers working magic against you. “I can make this feel so good for ya, just tell me what I wanna hear.”

Your hips began to buck against his hand, your moans growing louder as his thumb remained on your clit, one finger entering your cunt and it was like you were seeing stars. You had never done anything like this before, never really had the chance to. You experimented by yourself of course, but having someone else do it to you? It was on a whole other level.

You chased your peak like it was the only thing standing in the way of your survival, your hips shaking, mouth agape, eyes still fixed on the dark ones above you. You were so close. You could feel it building, boiling over–

A pathetic cry left you as he removed his hand, bringing it up to his face as he inspected the wetness now coating his fingers. With that same hand he gripped your cheeks, your own fluids coating your face, the scent invading your senses.

“I said I could make ya feel good, but you haven’t given me anythin’ in return yet.” His tone was so cocky, so arrogant, and yet it sent warmth shooting down to your core, unbidden and unwelcome to your mind, but it was received with exaltation as it fueled the slowly dying fire within you.

“Please–” It was pathetic, you knew that, and you weren’t even sure what you were saying please to, please stop, please don’t stop, please let me come mr ghoul sir?

Your desire was partially snuffed out as you felt something large and warm slap against your stomach. The suddenness of it made you forget to not look down as your gaze landed on the ghoul’s cock. It was big, the skin red and irritated, scarred from the radiation, just like the rest of his body. As much as the pleasure he was giving you before felt amazing, you couldn’t take that thing.

“That can’t fit,” You spoke hurriedly, the fear taking hold once more. “Please, I-I don’t know anything! I can’t help you, just please don’t put that in me.” Your sobs grew hysterical, tears free flowing, incoherent mumbles leaving you. “Sweetheart, you really think I care?”

He was cruel, he was a monster, a horrible, despicable monster.

The ghoul reached for his discarded belt, using it to tie your wrists together above your head as you tried to squirm away from him again. And you watched in terror as one of his hands guided the head of his cock to hit against your opening, the other hand roaming down your neck to grab at your breasts again. The tip of him tried to get inside of you and you already felt like you would die right there.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you are tight.” His gaze left his cock and moved to look at you again, “You never been fucked before, have ya?”

Your blabberings and the fear in your eyes was enough of an answer for him. “Damn, didn’t think I’d find a cunt as sweet as yours in this place.” He finally managed to push in, the pain was horrible, it made your insides burn, your mind going blank. “Makes me wanna stay here just a bit longer, still gotta know where your little shit of a brother is afterall.”

Your mind was gone, overcome with pain as he pushed more of his length into you, heedless of your squirming, your tears, the resistance he felt as he kept on going deeper and deeper.

It was horrible, you were glad your brain tried to block out other thoughts, albeit in vain as he pulled out just to slam back into you, fully sheathed in your tight cunt.

“You’re gripping me like a vice, darlin’, I dunno if I can even get out.” He gave a soft chuckle at that, punctuated with a sharp tug from your warmth only to shove it back in at a brutal pace.

You couldn't take it, couldn’t comprehend how this was happening to you. Distantly, you heard as his gloves came off, the rough skin of his fingers grabbing your hip with enough strength to form bruises while the other other arm braced against the floor beside your head, using it as leverage to rut into you. Your legs were splayed around his, your back scraping against the wooden floor, digging sharp lines into your skin.

You could faintly hear quiet sounds escape the man above you as he fucked you, his arms moving to grab your legs, bending them until your knees were beside your head, allowing him to reach even deeper into you. The head of his cock felt like a nail was being hammered into your cervix with each thrust. Your glazed eyes wandered down to see where you were joined and a jolt of horror ran through you. Each time he rammed into you, your belly bulged up a bit, it was like he was rearranging your insides to make more room for him.

The ghoul’s gaze followed yours and a louder grunt left him, one hand leaving your leg to press against the bulge on your belly. “Darlin’, you’re just too good for this fucked up world.”

The house was filled with the noises of flesh meeting flesh, your eyes were blank, staring up at the ceiling his thrusts continued. You didn’t want to think, to feel, to exist anymore. But the ghoul has other plans. Your face scrunched up as you felt a textured finger find your clit once more, rubbing it in all the right ways to make your mind snap back into focus. The pleasure was building again, each snap of his hips mixed with the bundle of nerves at your center being played with and you were reaching that peak again. Your moans intermingling with the slapping of flesh on flesh, you didn’t want to reach that crest and fall over it, you didn’t want this encounter to feel good for you too, but by god it did.

Your voice was raw as it screamed out, your pleasure pushed over the edge as you came, your thighs coating with your fluids, the noises becoming even more obscene as he continued to fuck you harder and faster.

“Goddamn, you are just too fucking good.”

His hands gripped your hips as his pace quickened but lost its rhythm. You knew he was getting close and the overstimulation of being fucked through and beyond your orgasm was making it hard to think of anything other than him. His hips finally stopped pistoning into you, giving one last, rough thrust as something hot and sticky filled you up, leaking out around his cock that remained in you.

The ghoul braced his hands on either side of your head, his eyes zeroed in on yours, breath heavy, sweat on his brow. “You gonna help me out now, sweetheart?”

Your head lolled to the side, eyes closing as you passed out.

#dark!fic #shadow writes #fallout show #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul smut #cooper howard smut #dark fic #dead dove do not eat #pls read the warnings #minors dni #also i am very scared to post this here...#so if it gets taken down at some point that's why #you can find it on ao3 tho

67 notes · View notes

elryuse · 16 days

Note

Hey can I ask for yandere xiaoting ?

Devil In Disguise

YANDERE XIAOTING X MALE READER

Xiaoting, a vision of flawless beauty sculpted by stylists and fueled by caffeine, pushed open the familiar door of her favorite cafe. The air, thick with the aroma of roasted coffee beans, was a welcome escape from the sterility of her practice studio. But today, the enticing scent was overshadowed by a different kind of allure.

Behind the counter stood a boy with hair the color of dark chocolate that seemed to absorb the warm light filtering through the window. His eyes, a deep brown that held a warmth that sent a shiver down her spine, were focused intently on the espresso machine. He was handsome, yes, undeniably so, but it was his smile – genuine, unburdened by the pressures of fame that she carried like a second skin – that truly captivated her.

"Can I get you something?" he asked, his voice a pleasant baritone that rumbled in a way that made her knees weak.

"Hmm," Xiaoting purred, leaning against the counter. Her stage persona, a mix of icy cool and smoldering sensuality, came naturally. It was a shield, a carefully crafted armor that protected her from the emotional onslaught of constant scrutiny. Here, though, in this tiny cafe with its worn wooden tables and mismatched mugs, it felt heavy. "Idk.. Surprise me."

He chuckled, a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine once more. "Coming right up," he said, his smile widening. As he worked, she stole glances, memorizing the way his brow furrowed in concentration as he steamed the milk, the way his fingers danced across the espresso machine with a practiced ease. Finally, he slid a steaming cup towards her, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Here you go," he said, his voice warm and inviting. "Hope it surprises you pleasantly."

"I'm sure it will," Xiaoting said, her voice a husky murmur. "By the way, I'm Xiaoting."

He smiled, his name tag reading "Y/n. Nice to meet you, Xiaoting. So, what brings a beautiful girl like you to my humble cafe?"

The question was simple, but it sent a jolt through her. Rarely did people see beyond the mask she wore for the cameras. An idea, delicious and dangerous, sparked in her mind.

"Just looking for a little escape," she said, her voice tinged with a calculated vulnerability. They talked for what felt like hours, but in reality, it was only a stolen half-hour between customers. She learned about his dreams of becoming a musician, his love for classic novels that she'd only ever seen adapted into movies, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed at a particularly bad joke she told. It was intoxicating, this taste of normalcy, of genuine connection.

But as she went to leave, her heart plummeted.

"Hey," Y/n called. "I don't usually ask this, but…" He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a napkin. "Would you like to keep in touch?"

A thrill shot through her. This was better than she could have hoped for. But then, a girl, blonde and bubbly, linked arms with Y/n, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Hey babe, sorry I'm late!"

Xiaoting's smile froze, the warmth in her replaced by a chilling emptiness that spread through her like ice. "Girlfriend?" she croaked, her voice devoid of its usual playful lilt.

Y/n's face fell. "Oh, right. This is…" His eyes darted between them, confusion etched on his face. "This is Xiaoting, and…"

"No need to introduce me," Xiaoting cut in, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness that tasted like ash in her mouth. It was a performance, a carefully crafted mask once more, but this time, it was fueled by something far more potent than practiced charm. "It's lovely to meet you. Y/n tells me wonderful things about you."

The lie flowed effortlessly, a seed planted in the fertile ground of the girl's insecurities. Later, alone in her luxurious apartment, the mask shattered. Rage contorted her face, a terrifying transformation that would send shivers down the spine of anyone who witnessed it. A mere pop star, a nobody, dared to have someone she desired? The thought was an insult, a challenge to her carefully constructed world.

The following days were a blur of activity. Xiaoting, the master manipulator with a team of loyal and discreet individuals at her beck and call, orchestrated a flawless plan. A carefully placed photo, an anonymous tip to the tabloids that fueled the ever-hungry gossip machine, and a manufactured public meltdown on Y/n's girlfriend's part did the trick. Days later, Y/n, heartbroken and confused, found himself sitting across from Xiaoting in her opulent apartment, a stark contrast to the cozy cafe.

Y/n stared at Xiaoting, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. Tears had carved glistening tracks through the caked-on makeup his ex had insisted on before their "emotional" break-up video.

"It's all a lie, isn't it?" he rasped, his voice raw with betrayal. "The cheating, the whole thing."

Xiaoting, perched on a plush velvet sofa, her designer dress impeccably styled, reached out and squeezed his hand. Her touch, usually electric, felt cold and calculating. "Oh, Y/n," she cooed, her voice dripping with manufactured sympathy. "Don't listen to the media vultures. They just want to create drama."

Her practiced smile didn't reach her eyes. Y/n, however, blinded by grief and the subtle shift in her demeanor, clung to her words like a lifeline.

"She seemed so genuine in the video," he mumbled, his voice thick with despair. "She even had… proof."

A flicker of triumph passed through Xiaoting's eyes, masked by a concerned frown. "Proof that can be easily fabricated, darling," she purred. "You know how these things work."

Y/n nodded numbly, his mind reeling. Xiaoting leaned in, her voice a seductive whisper. "You deserve better, Y/n. Someone who will cherish you, who understands you. Someone like me."

He looked up, his gaze searching hers. In that moment, a flicker of something dark, something possessive, glinted in her eyes. But Y/n, lost in his emotional turmoil, missed it.

"I don't know what to believe anymore," he whispered, defeated.

Xiaoting's smile bloomed, genuine this time. "Then believe in me," she said, her voice laced with a dangerous possessiveness. "Believe that I can make you happy."

And in that vulnerable state, Y/n did. Blinded by the illusion of comfort and the toxic sweetness of her words, he allowed himself to fall into her carefully constructed web.

Days turned into weeks, then months. Xiaoting, the idol with a seemingly perfect life, became his haven. But the haven was a gilded cage, its bars disguised as luxury and affection.

His phone calls with friends became "intrusions into their healing." His attempts to pursue music, his long-held dream, were dismissed as "unrealistic distractions." The outside world became a blur, filtered through Xiaoting's carefully curated narrative.

One evening, amidst a candlelit dinner, Xiaoting casually mentioned a camera crew arriving the next day to film a "day in the life" segment.

Y/n froze, a flicker of unease crossing his face. "A camera crew? Here?"

Xiaoting, all innocence, feigned surprise. "Oh honey, didn't I mention? It's a surprise! They want to showcase our beautiful love story."

His unease morphed into terror. The manufactured reality she'd created suffocated him. But before he could protest, she reached for his hand, her grip a vice.

"Don't worry, darling," she purred, her voice laced with a chilling sweetness. "It'll be perfect. After all, the whole world deserves to see how happy we are, right?"

Y/n's pleas were drowned out by the manufactured sweetness of her voice. Trapped in her gilded cage, his future stretched before him, not a haven of love, but a prison built on lies and a terrifying obsession.

The camera crew bustled around the apartment, their presence a suffocating weight on Y/n's chest. Every stolen glance at Xiaoting confirmed his growing suspicion. Her smile, practiced for countless interviews, seemed strained around the edges. Her eyes, usually sparkling with manufactured cheer, held a glint of something manic.

As they filmed their "candid" interactions, Y/n fumbled for words. Xiaoting, ever the professional, filled the silence with fabricated anecdotes about their whirlwind romance, peppered with possessiveness disguised as affection.

Later, after the crew departed, the air grew thick with a suffocating tension. Y/n, his hands clammy with unease, finally found his voice.

"Xiaoting," he started, his voice barely a whisper. "It felt… staged. Everything."

Xiaoting's smile faltered for a brief moment, then reappeared, wider and somehow colder. "Staged? How silly, darling. It was just a little awkwardness, that's all."

He wasn't convinced. The way she'd hovered over him, her touch lingering a beat too long, the way her gaze flickered to the phone whenever it buzzed – it all screamed control.

"Can I… can I call my friends sometime?" Y/n asked, his voice small.

A flicker of annoyance crossed Xiaoting's face, quickly masked. "Oh, honey, you know how the media is. They'd twist anything into a story. We wouldn't want them to paint a wrong picture of our perfect relationship, would we?"

Y/n swallowed the retort that rose in his throat. He felt a growing sense of isolation, a gnawing loneliness that her constant presence couldn't fill.

Days blurred into weeks. Phone calls became a distant memory, replaced by Xiaoting's curated schedule of "romantic outings" and "couple interviews." He was a prop in her meticulously crafted narrative, his own dreams and desires pushed further and further out of reach.

One night, while Xiaoting slept, Y/n stumbled upon her phone. A morbid curiosity gnawed at him. He knew it was wrong, but the need to understand his situation overpowered his conscience.

His breath hitched as he saw text messages exchanged with a private number. The messages were cold, calculating, filled with instructions about manipulating interviews and maintaining their "perfect" facade.

But what truly sent chills down his spine was the final message: "Target successfully isolated. Phase two: public declaration."

Y/n's blood ran cold. He wasn't Xiaoting's lover; he was a pawn in a twisted game orchestrated by a woman consumed by a possessive obsession. Fear, sharp and primal, clawed at his throat.

He knew then that he had to escape. But how? Xiaoting controlled everything – his access to the outside world, his finances, even his reputation.

He spent the next few days formulating a plan, a desperate gamble fuelled by a newfound strength. He started subtly leaving messages for his old bandmate on social media, hidden in plain sight within innocuous comments. He pretended to be enthusiastic about Xiaoting's upcoming album release, subtly planting seeds of doubt about their relationship in interviews.

The night before the album release party, Y/n finally made his move. He waited until Xiaoting fell asleep, then packed a small bag with essentials. He knew she'd wake up soon, so he had to be quick.

He tiptoed towards the door, his heart hammering in his chest. Just as he grasped the knob, a cold voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Going somewhere, darling?" Xiaoting stood there, her eyes blazing with a terrifying fury.

Y/n's mouth went dry. "Xiaoting, I… I just need some air."

"No," she said, her voice a steely whisper. "You're not going anywhere. You belong to me now."

Y/n knew then that reasoning was futile. He had to fight his way out. He lunged for the door, but Xiaoting was faster. She grabbed his arm, her grip surprisingly strong.

A struggle ensued, desperate and brutal. Y/n, fueled by a surge of adrenaline, managed to break free and sprint towards the window. He threw it open, the cool night air a welcome shock.

"Y/n don't!!" Xiaoting screamed, her voice laced with a chilling desperation.

He didn't look back. He scrambled onto the fire escape, adrenaline masking the fear threatening to consume him. He descended quickly, ignoring the burn in his legs, until he reached the ground and melted into the night.

He knew this was just the beginning. Xiaoting wouldn't give up easily. But for the first time in months, he felt a flicker of hope. He was free, and he would do He sprinted through the deserted streets, the rhythmic pounding of his feet the only sound in the night. Glancing back every few seconds, his heart hammered a frantic tattoo against his ribs. He didn't see Xiaoting, but the chilling memory of her desperate plea sent shivers down his spine.

Reaching his old friend's apartment, he pounded on the door with shaking hands. Relief flooded him when the familiar face of his bandmate, Mark, appeared. But before Y/n could explain, a car screeched to a halt outside, its headlights momentarily blinding him.

"Y/n!" Mark gasped, pulling him back inside just as the apartment door splintered. Xiaoting, her face contorted with rage, stormed in, a gaggle of security guards flanking her.

"There you are!" she hissed, her voice laced with venom.

Y/n's frantic pleas for help fell on deaf ears. The security guards, well-versed in the art of celebrity wrangling, subdued him with practiced ease. Mark, powerless against the tide, could only watch in horror.

Back in the gilded cage, Xiaoting's rage had morphed into a chilling calm. Gone was the facade of the loving girlfriend. Y/n sat across from her, his wrists bound with silk scarves, the very picture of a dethroned king.

"You shouldn't have tried to leave," Xiaoting said, her voice devoid of emotion. "Now, things will have to change."

A cold dread filled Y/n. He knew then that escape was no longer an option. Xiaoting wouldn't simply lock him away; she would control him. His career, his reputation, his very identity – all would become pawns in her twisted game.

The following days were a blur of media manipulation. Xiaoting, the heartbroken victim, spun a tale of a troubled boyfriend on the verge of a breakdown. Public sympathy flowed freely, further isolating Y/n.

He was allowed to keep his phone, but under constant surveillance. His band, ostracized and pressured by Xiaoting's powerful team, reluctantly distanced themselves. The world he once knew crumbled around him.

Weeks turned into months. Y/n became a ghost of his former self, a talented musician reduced to a silent shadow beside the ever-smiling Xiaoting. He was forced to participate in interviews, his every word carefully scripted.

One day, during a live performance, a flicker of defiance sparked in his eyes. As Xiaoting launched into a love song, he reached for the microphone, his voice hoarse but resolute.

"This isn't real," he rasped, the words catching in his throat. "She's keeping me prisoner."

The music screeched to a halt. Shock rippled through the audience. Security guards rushed the stage before Y/n could utter another word.

But the damage was done. The carefully crafted facade had a gaping hole. Whispers turned into accusations. Public opinion shifted, a seed of doubt planted.

Xiaoting, however, remained unfazed. Public scrutiny was a game she knew how to play. She painted Y/n as delusional, a victim of his own mental breakdown. Her carefully calculated tears and veiled threats of self-harm swayed the narrative back in her favor.

Y/n, isolated and silenced once more, sank deeper into despair. He knew he might never truly escape Xiaoting's grasp. She had woven a web of control so intricate, so pervasive, that it had become his reality.

The story ended not with a dramatic escape or a heroic rescue, but with a slow, suffocating descent. Y/n remained a prisoner, not behind bars, but within the gilded cage of a twisted obsession, his music and his dreams forever silenced by the chilling melody of Xiaoting's love song.

#xiaoting #kep1er #kep1er xiaoting #yandere x reader #yandere roleplay #yandere blog #yandere stories #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #beautiful #apreciation post #update #yandere #social media #lost media #media

68 notes · View notes