#or at least the way he did it kind of was (Hear me out here)
Note
Could you do a Cooper Howard x reader angst? Something with the reader getting injured or dying and/ or becoming a ghoul?
You and your stories are amazing btw❤️!!!
Thank you!
Parings: Cooper Howard x reader
Summary: You get shot and Cooper comes to your aid.
Word count: 1344
Warnings: Guns, blood, shooting, reader getting shot in the thigh, Cooper being a softy
A/N: sorry if you meant post-nuclear bomb. (if you wanted cooper howard like.. normal human & stuff) ALSO I JUST REALIZED THIS ISN'T VERY ANGSTY 😭😭 FFS. I hope you like it either way :))
It was a hectic situation. There were at least ten people pointing guns directly at you from all around. This was not how you expected your day to go. You didn’t even do anything remotely wrong. Just stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time. Which was pretty common around here.
You were by yourself right now, which was another downfall. You didn’t have the capabilities yet to kill a bunch of people on your own. Maybe if you sweet talked them..? You doubt that would work. If only Cooper were here. He would have them all dead in a blink of an eye. Especially because they were threatening you. He seemed to have a soft spot for you for whatever reason. You felt the same way towards him. Even though people would look at you like you’re insane, you don’t care. You can see something in him that nobody else can. He always had a bit of a protective nature towards you the moment you two met. You thought he would’ve killed you, but he just laughed at how scared you looked and ensured that he doesn’t kill without a motive. And in his words “won’t dare harm a pretty thing like you.”
He is currently god knows where. You were tagging along with him but he went to go get more vials. He said he knows a spot where he can snag a couple. That was about two hours ago. It would be great if he just miraculously appeared right now.
“L-listen. I don’t want any trouble, okay? I’m just passing through.” You say, trying to sound brave but the whimper in your voice made itself known.
“Yeah, passing through OUR territory.” One of the men said, with a raspy tone.
“I didn’t know! I’ll go. Right now.” You say quickly, starting to move forward.
“Uh-uh!” One of them yelled.
You hear all their guns go off safely and you stop dead in your tracks. The panic and fear you feel makes your skin develop goosebumps.
“We can’t let you go, can we? What kind of example would we be settin’ if we did?” One of them spoke.
“Oh, just walk right into our territory, It’s all good!! It wouldn't be our territory if we did that, would it?” One of them say in a mocking tone.
“P-please. I just-“ You begin to say.
“Now what on hells creation is goin’ on here?” You hear no other than Cooper’s voice in the other direction.
You subconsciously release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
All the people snap their heads to the ghouls voice. Some of them look scared, but some of them look angry that their fun got spoiled.
“Well? Gonna keep gawking or is somebody going to tell me what the fucks goin’ on here?” He says.
“W-well we caught this one roaming on our territory.” One of the people spoke up.
“And?” Cooper questions them, as if daring them to say what they were going to do to you.
They’re all silent. Except for one. He must be new here or something because he speaks up in an angry tone, “and were gonna kill them.” He says, pointing the gun at you. He looks around at all his other gang members, and how they’re not pointing the gun at you anymore.
He raised a brow, “what’s the big idea? Why’s nobody else-“
BANG
Cooper shoots the man in the arm, not letting him finish his sentence.
Everything went slow from there. You see Cooper giving the man cold eyes, and then from your vision, you see the man look down at his arm, then you see him, with his other hand, grab his gun and quickly shoot you in your thigh before Cooper sends another bullet straight through his head, leaving him instantly falling to the ground.
You hiss out in pain and look down, seeing red liquid gush out and stain your pants.
Cooper whips his head towards you.
“Fuckin’-“ He mumbles as he rushes over, getting on his knees in front of you.
Everyone around immediately makes a quick exit, not wanting to suffer the same fate as the other guy.
Cooper would’ve killed them all for that, if it wasn’t for him not wanting to take his eyes or attention off of you. He feels scared, worried, mad, and mostly desperate. Desperate to stop the bleeding, desperate to go back in time and never leave you alone in the first place. He would laugh at himself for feeling these feelings any other time, just not now. Now he has to focus all his attention on you.
“Is it bad?” You mumble out to him, not wanting to fully look at it.
Cooper thankfully notices how it isn’t in a vital place. The bullet went right through, so he doesn’t have to worry about digging it out or it causing complications.
“Well you got shot, sweetheart. It’s bad but it isn’t deadly. You’ll be alright.” He says, trying to ease the worry off of you.
He’s got to get you to a safe spot so he can properly treat the wound. Luckily he has lots of experience with these kinds of situations.
He stands up and leans down, putting his arm behind your knees, lifting you up and carrying you bridal style.
Your eyes go wide and you gasp in shock, but don’t complain. You don’t think you can walk anyhow.
Your cheeks flush and you feel a swell in your heart from his actions. He walks in silence, his brain wracking at how he shouldn’t have left you alone, and how he swears to make sure this won’t happen again. You’re in his arms, hurting, but for some reason you swear it hurts a little less because he’s close to you.
“This won’t never happen again, I swear it. You better be more cautious around these parts though, darlin’. Especially with me not around. People don’t give no mercy.” He says to you.
A little while later, you’re sitting on a mattress in an abandoned building. Your pants are pulled down a bit on one side, so he has access to the wounded leg. Cooper carefully cleaning and wrapping up your wound with a concentrated face. You stare at him and how his eyes look, how his forehead is frowned down in focus, and how his hands are handling you carefully, as if they aren’t used on a daily basis for killing and violence.
“You’re lucky it’s in this spot. A little to the left or right, and you might’ve not been able to use this leg again. Would’ve had to get you those robot leg attachments.” He says, laughing at the end of his sentence.
“You mean the ones that practically rip your leg to shreds? No thanks.” You say, laughing.
You look at him softly as he’s smiling gently, while finishing up wrapping your leg.
“Now would you look at that? All better.” He says, gesturing to your skillfully wrapped leg.
“Thank you, Coop.” You say. “I’m really lucky you came in time.”
“Well, I’d argue I was a tad bit late, but of course, darlin’. I’m glad I got there before things could’ve gotten worse.” He says back to you, adjusting his hat on his head.
He cares about you. It realized that right when he heard that gun shot go in your direction. His heart sank to his stomach immediately, thinking the worse. He’s going to make sure to keep a tight leash on you from now on out. Not in a bad way, just in a way that he’s able to be there if anything happens.
“Thank you, Cooper.” You say softly out of nowhere, looking at him with a bit of blush on your cheeks.
He nods his head in your direction. “You’re quite welcome, sweetheart. Now why don’t you be a doll and rest up. I might’ve wrapped it all neat n’ all, but you’ll still need to let it heal. We can take a couple hours break here."
#my works#fallout#fallout x reader#ghoul#the ghoul#ghoul fallout#cooper howard#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard fallout x reader#ghoul x reader#the ghoul x reader#fallout ghoul x reader#ghoul fallout x reader#cooper howard fallout#cooper howard x you#fallout fan fiction
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Hotel room: filthy chav tf
It was an imposition. An absolute imposition. Having to spend the night in a youth hostel was unbelievable. But in a triple room? Without your own bathroom? Using a communal shower room? That had to be a joke. Yes, his company had to cut costs. There was a new travel policy that banned five-star hotels and business class flights. All well and good. But a youth hostel?!?!?!?!! He called the travel agency and insulted his colleague in the worst possible way. She just replied dryly that everything else was fully booked because of the trade fair and that she had even written Alexander an e-mail asking if the booking was okay. And he had replied with a curt "yes". Unfortunately, there was nothing more she could do, he was still on the waiting list for two hotels. But if there was no answer by now…
Alexander moved into his room. It smelled like a lad's changing room in a community school on a council estate. Of course, he had no idea what it smelled like. But that's how he imagined the stench. Without greeting or acknowledging the teenager lying on the bed playing with his cell phone, Alexander went to the window and pulled it open. "Oi, did someone crap in yer head, mate? Shut that window, innit?" the chav yelled at him. "I don't understand a word you're saying," Alexander replied and began to unpack his suitcase. I don't know how the chav could live like this, he thought to himself. He needed order. He then changed into his bedding, which he saw as a further humiliation, and lay down on the bed. The chav was listening to music so loud that Alexander could clearly hear the bass. He found it more than annoying. But he tried to ignore it. He put on his headset and called his fiancée. Alexander assumed that the chav lying in the bed above him couldn't hear anything, as loud as he was listening to music. So he complained without a care in the world and blasphemed about the young man with the disturbed relationship to personal hygiene and the impossible haircut. "Honey, I have to stop, I have to get out of here and have lunch somewhere civilized." Alexander ended his phone call. He looked up. And he was looking at a dirty white sock.
"Oi, I'm Callum, but me mates call me Cal. So you call me Callum. Did ya just say my smell's botherin' ya? I thought posh gits like you love the scent of real man's feet." Alexander almost threw up. Without saying anything, he jumped up, grabbed his coat and left the room. He had a lunch date with an old school friend at a trendy steak restaurant. It was supposed to distract him and save the evening as much as possible. As he stood in the subway, he wondered what the devil had possessed him not to take a cab. It smelled almost as bad here as in his hotel room. Suddenly he realized that the smell was coming from his armpits. Damn, had he forgotten the deodorant this morning? The journey seemed like an eternity. People wrinkled their noses. My God, that was embarrassing. In the restaurant, he went to the toilet first, wet a towel, took off his shirt and jacket and wiped his armpits. In the stress, he didn't even notice that instead of a white microfiber undershirt with a V-neck, he was wearing a worn-out, yellowed fine rib undershirt. The waiter eyed him a little disparagingly as he brought him to his table. His friend was already sitting there and stood up to greet him. Alexander gave him a fist bump. His friend looked irritated and returned the greeting. "My best man, what kind of ghetto attitudes are these? At least it goes with your casual footwear." Alexander looked at the floor. He was wearing rather expensive-looking sneakers. And white socks. He stammered something about a suitcase that had gone missing and that he'd been a bit stressed. His friend grinned a little disparagingly and poured Alexander a glass of red wine.
The conversation was somehow wooden. Marcus told stories from their school days. But Alexander couldn't remember any of them. The wine was quite tasty, the steak was too rare for him, but he didn't dare complain. With lots of ketchup, it was fine. When the waiter asked if he should pour more wine, Alexander replied with his mouth full "Oi mate, gimme a big beer, yeah? And some mayo with them chips." The rest of the meal passed in silence. All you could hear was Alexander smacking his lips. And after he had finished, a loud and passionate burp. Marcus looked horrified at first. Then he laughed uproariously and burped at least as loudly. "Blimey, mate! That was a good one. Now off for a fag and a fart outside?" "You can proper bet on it, mate. Got a spare cig for us?".
Marcus and Alexander had to put their last few pounds together to pay. The waiter looked disgustedly at the stale bills. "You got a problem, mate? Our money not good enough for ya? What's it gonna take for a blowie, eh? Would ya prefer that?" Alexander could barely stop Marcus from starting a fight with the waiter. He waved for security. A few minutes later, the two chavs were thrown out the back exit.
The evening was still young. Alex called Cal to see if he would like to have a beer in the pub at the youth hostel and watch the game. Cal replied that he had just taken a punter up to the room and had to fuck him first. Blimey, Cal was always lucky. Mack suggested he stand by the mess hall exit. Maybe you could pick up a customer there too. Alex looked in his wallet. He was broke again. He could do with a few pounds. They had at least managed to scrounge two fags from a passer-by. The evening was off to a good start. And at some point it would end with a hot threesome in their room.
Pics found @maennersneakersockenfuesseskins and @belgiquecuir
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Day Zero
chapter 3: The one when you met
masterlist
taglist
pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader
summary: Meeting another person after 2 years of loneliness was not supposed to be like this.
tags: AFAB reader, plus size reader, dog german shepherd, alcohol, weapon
author's note: I don't know... I'm not satisfied with this chapter. I think I reread it and edited it too many times. From this chapter, what happens after days 730... will be in the present tense because, for example, in the next chapter we will return to day 64, of course it is described in the past tense, so it just seems logical to me. I'm not changing chapters 1 and 2, I hope you don't mind.
I think I've been spending too much time on this story and I'm starting to think too much.
Thank you all for your positive feedback. You don't even know how much this means to me <3
The next chapter will be posted on May 11 or 12.
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Chapter 3: The one when you met
Day 730
Ghost
There are plenty of things in this damn city that he will never run out of. When Ghost was left almost alone, with Riley by his side of course. Already in the first days, the man noticed that there were things here that would stay with him for the rest of his life. Even when he's gone, many of these items will remain in his warehouses for years to come.
Ironically, what he needed the least, alcohol and clothes.
He was never a demanding person. He didn't expect much from life. He was a rather simple man. A roof over his head, a supply of food, a place to train and peace of mind. So when he realized that this city was only his, he was very happy and satisfied. Not that he hated people. It was just better when they were as far away from him as possible. Somewhere in the background, preferably far from his sight and hearing. For many years he felt irritated by the closeness of another person. Of course, there were a few people who managed to get under the lieutenant's shell and understand his moods, behavior and motivations. However, there were few of them. That's right, they were.
In the army, he worked with several people. For many years he had no one outside of work. No family. No other relatives or friends. So when the captain sent him to a well-deserved rest after another long and hard mission. Ghost couldn't find his place for the first few days. He was simply irritated by mundane, everyday things. Going to the bank, store, clinic or even the gym. Too many people. Everywhere. Constant conversations, gesticulations. Noise.
Too much.
So he was grateful for the development of technology. When he could finally sit in front of his computer in the comfort of his own home and get things done in the office or via an app on his phone. The less contact with other people, the better. That's what he thought.
Now that Riley is missing, the soldier wonders about the meaning of his life. If the world had in some way done him a favor by removing other people from his surroundings, why did he have to take away the one being that made him feel alive. That his life has any meaning.
He wasn't a monster. Of course not. It wasn't like he was hoping for some kind of annihilation of humanity, that he would be the sole survivor on earth and be able to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He just wanted some peace, on his terms.
However, he felt no sadness or regret as he patrolled the empty streets or checked another empty building.
He had lost too many loved ones in the past to grieve over nameless strangers now.
He shouldn't drink. He knows it perfectly well. Two years. 730 days of sobriety. He had promised himself that big day, he had promised Riley, that he would never feel that burning liquid in his throat again. So that he won't become such a madman when alcohol starts circulating in his system again.
So that he does not become his own father. He couldn't even think of this person as someone close to him. Disgusting creature. Reflective sadists. Sperm donor and that's it. Which should never have existed. He buried that monster a long time ago. Just like Ghost buried his own self.
Apart from losing Riley, this was the man's greatest fear in his life. That by drinking alcohol and getting closer to people, he would show them who he really was. That he was just like his twisted psychopathic father.
And he didn't want to be like that, he couldn't. He preferred to hide behind the façade of a domineering, boorish lieutenant in a mask. Pushing others away from himself. The further, the better. He didn't want to hurt anyone.
He preferred to be alone.
He wore a mask almost all the time. He hid his face from the world. He never showed his true self. He hid his identity and the man he was behind a piece of cloth.
Now that it was just him and the dog, he didn't have to cover his face.... And although sometimes in the morning he was looking for a black mask on the nightstand out of habit, he got used to the pleasant feeling of air on the skin of his face. If necessary, he placed a few masks here and there. Just in case someone, somehow showed up in his town.
Now, standing in the pantry with his heart pounding, he unhesitatingly reaches to the back of one of the shelves where he hid the alcohol.
He purposely hid the bottles in the back of the cabinets behind other things so that every time he looks here, he won't notice the colorful bottles at all.
So that nothing would tempt him.
Pulling out a bottle of bourbon, he moved the cans of food and didn't hesitate. He feels that if he does not immediately drown his sadness in a glass of amber drink, he will not be able to bear the pain of another loss. Looking at the label, he smiles to himself. Pappy Van Winkle's Family Reserve 15 years 107 proof*. Searching the homes of these rich people had some benefits. Rich motherfuckers who didn't know what to do with their money bought everything expensive. The more zeros in a line, the better.
When he returns to the office, he doesn't even look at the surveillance system.
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Day 731
Ghost
He lost himself. He drank himself unconscious. It was long after sunrise, it is even after noon.
“Dammit”
Ghost mutters, slowly getting up from the chair he fell asleep in a few hours earlier.
He should have been looking for the dog since dawn. He shouldn't give up. He shouldn't lose hope. However, when he lost sight of the dog, something inside him broke. It reminded him too much of the previous two times he'd lost loved ones. He lost control again. Something thwarted his plan. He lost his stability. Monotony, life according to plan.
Barely walking, tripping over his feet and knocking several things off the dresser, he reaches the bathroom. He doesn't care about anything anymore. Everything is the same to him.
When rinsing her face with water, he does not look at her reflection in the mirror. He can't look into his own eyes. Again, he directs his steps to the pantry. To get another bottle. Ghost has already lost count, another bottle to forget.
It didn't matter. It's just that nothing makes sense anymore.
Wobbling on his feet, he returns to the small room, sits in the chair at the desk and takes a few sips straight from the bottle. Regret - he finally feels it. Another sip. Drown, drown. And he only hopes that alcohol will soothe this feeling, that it will help him fill the void he feels after Riley's disappearance.
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Day 732
Ghost
Another day of drinking. Once he touched his lips and felt a sharp substance with his tongue. And he fell into a trance again. It was hard to break out of it. Constant drinking. Vicious circle. Another bottle and another. Let it burn, sting, hurt. Just to feel something. Physically.
Finally, as if something was calling to him, he struggled to get up from the chair and dragged the body to the kitchen, he decided he had to do something. Anything other than just sitting here. With a lot of thinking, wondering, blaming. He's not a victim, he's not. He has to look for the dog. Keep going. He can't show weakness. Even before himself. He felt a little embarrassed. That he gave up again. Too quick and easy. He looks at the mess he probably left behind the night he drunkenly tried to make himself something to eat.
“I'll deal with it later,” he muttered, heading towards the dressing room. Trying to keep his balance, he stops in the hall, next to the small surveillance room, and freezes.
One screen was active. Detected movement.
"Fuck..." Ghost is angry with himself, pissed off. That he hadn't thought about sitting in front of the screens and looking at the city earlier. But now wasn't the time to blame himself or dwell on the situation. He must finally take action.
Looking at the screen, the soldier can't believe his eyes. He not only sees his beloved dog on the screen. Who slowly walks through one of the streets. In the live footage, he sees a figure walking.
Person.
Alive.
Without thinking, he quickly runs to his room to change and grab his gun. It's definitely an ambush. No one in their right mind would wander in the middle of the street in a strange city in the middle of the day. With a dog by my side.
Bait.
Surely the rest of the group was waiting somewhere outside the city or on the roofs of buildings. He has to do something, he has to get Riley back. Adrenaline stimulates his body, his thoughts flow in one direction. Bring Riley home. Punish those who had the nerve to steal his dog.
He had never driven under the influence of alcohol, but he had no choice. It would take him too long to walk downtown, and he couldn't let the intruders get any closer to his house. Or worse, they'll leave town with his dog.
Besides, the only danger in driving a car in such an environment was himself. And he doesn't care about his own health and life.
Before leaving, he checks the camera again, the figure slowly approaches the City Hall building.
"Easy target" Ghost smiled, plenty of space to capture. He loads his gun and runs out the door as fast as he can, his fingers firmly wrapped around the sniper rifle.
While driving through the city streets, he tries to focus on driving straight, but at the same time he is constantly looking around for a potential threat. It definitely has to be a larger group, Ghost is expecting several people. To his surprise, however, he doesn't notice anything unusual.
Finally he stops and he leaves the car a few blocks from the town hall and starts walking towards it. He hopes he's not late. That the intruder and his dog hadn't moved too far.
There were rather low buildings near the town hall, so a block earlier he turned left and headed to one of the skyscrapers, from where he would have a better view. A better place to attack. However, there is no time to enter it. He freezes in place because he hears Riley barking and then a human voice. A woman's voice.
“Shit…”
He muttered through his teeth. Of course he might have expected a group of travellers to send a woman or a child out to scout. To stir up sympathy only to have someone lose their guard.
He has to play it differently. He looks around the street and decides to enter the restaurant on the corner, remembering that there is a passage inside and he will have a perfect view of the street where the town hall was located. As he walks through the abandoned building, he mentally curses himself for drinking so much. Adrenaline helps him focus and stay upright, but he fears what will happen if he ends up having to aim his gun. When he reaches the storefront overlooking City Hall, he freezes.
Woman pets Riley tenderly and happily says something to him.
Dog seemed to sense his presence because it sits on its hind legs and looks towards the building where the soldier is.
Without thinking, Ghost raises his gun and takes aim.
He must get the dog back and show the strange travelers that they cannot take what is his. That he is in charge.
Fractions of seconds. Ghost pulls the trigger, shoots. The woman falls forward. Without even realizing the threat standing in the dark building in front of her. She falls, but not from the shot. There is not a single drop of blood. No screaming in pain.
It was Riley who pulled her over. He saved her. He protected her from the bullet.
Assessing the situation, Ghost quickly leaves the building and continues to aim his gun at the lying woman.
He didn't expect this development, of all the possible scenarios that went through his head. He did not foresee, despite years spent on the battlefield, reading thousands of training materials.
That the dog would be against him and protect some random stranger.
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Day 732
You
Everything happens so fast that it is impossible to rationally connect the facts: the shot, Riley pulling the leash and the fall. So much, in a split second.
But the only thing that is echoing in your head right now is whether or not Riley is okay.
So you don't notice the massive, tall and masked figure slowly walking towards you... The first thing you should do is check the condition of the dog. Riley. That's all that matters to you. You sit on your lap and look closely at the dog.
“Riley, oh boy, are you okay? Show yourself".
You check the dog, and after making sure that the dog is alright, you find no trace of blood or the slightest injury. Relieved, you slowly get back to your feet. Straightening up, you finally see with horror the figure standing in front of you who wanted to shoot you a moment ago. And now it's starting to dawn on you what just happened. What is really happening and that you are in great danger. You open your mouth and then close it, repeating this action several times, you want to say something. But what can you say at a time like this? No words come out of your throat.
“Stand where you're standing and let go of the leash”
The masked man growls lowly, slowly turning his gaze from you to the dog, slowly stepping closer to the two of you.
“Raise your hands above your head and don't move.”
You shiver with fear, chills running through your body. The sound of a man's low voice, any human voice other than yours after many months. Weird feeling. Irrational.
After a while, you finally recover and slowly raise your hands.
“Let go of damn leash!”
You look at the man with fear. It occurs to you that this must be the same man who left the letter on the tower. Anyone else could be masked and not call themselves Ghost. He was tall, well built. He was dressed in tactical gear, a bulletproof vest and... a mask. This was no ordinary balaclava. A skull was attached to the material. The front part, with a fragment of the upper jaw, eye sockets, and forehead. It must have been a human skull. You involuntarily shiver harder in fear, trying to take a deeper breath. This was not what meeting another human being was supposed to be like. This wasn't what you expected.
Ghost will raise his gun higher, still pointing it at you.
“Riley. Heel.., come here"
He calls to the dog, breaking the terrible, prolonged silence. The confused dog stands up and takes one step towards the soldier. But he doesn't go any further.
“This… this dog is mine”
The words finally fall out of you, you muster up your courage and whisper, keeping your eyes on the man
“Don't take him away from me. Not again.”
“Your dog? I think you've got something wrong"
Ghost growled, clearly annoyed. His arm muscles visibly tense, this entire exchange makes no sense to him. Waste of time.
"Y-yes, he's mine..."
You start to say, trying to control the emotions you're feeling. You slowly lower your hands.
“I can prove it. Just let me”
Regardless of the fact that the gun is constantly pointed at you, you have to prove it to him and keep the dog with you. No matter what, at any cost. You want to reach into your backpack and take out that old worn-out photo that you still carry with you to this day. One of the few souvenirs you have kept from your past life.
“Hands up, damn it, I'm not playing any games. Give the dog back and leave town."
Ghost shouts, you can see that he is becoming more and more irritated by your behavior.
“You can take everything you find and leave my city. Riley stays where he belongs - with me."
You shake your head negatively, swallowing the lump in your throat, trying not to cry
“No, the dog is mine.”
“Oh, damn it, I don't have all day for unnecessary discussions. Tell your people not to come back here again. Or at least have the courage to show up in person and not send a woman. Pathetic".
As he says this, he finally lowers the gun and pats his thigh, trying to get the dog's attention.
“Riley! Heel!”
Thinking little, or probably not thinking at all, you reached into your backpack and opened the zipper, looking for a photo.
“Dammit, kid, you don't understand what I'm telling you. Leave the dog and fuck off."
You don't care anymore, if you were to leave this city without your dog, you'd rather die here. Now, at this moment.
You take out the photo, which you have carefully secured to prevent any further damage. You raise your hand, holding the photo, and try to stop it from shaking. Despite your emotions, you calmly say to masked man
"Look, this is my dog. Mine. Look, Riley's missing a piece of his ear. You see? Dog in this photo doesn't have it either…”
The man hesitates for a moment, but decides to approach and take a closer look at the photo in your hand.
“That doesn't prove anything,” Ghost starts to say, but you interrupt him
"What do you mean? How many dogs of this breed have such a wound? How many have a black collar with an engraving on the back, with the exact name and phone number?"
As you say this, you state what is written on his collar
“You could take this off him and read it.”
"How do I know there's something written inside?"
There was silence. Another long, tiring one. You looked at each other without saying a word.
The man was taller than you and towered over you, his broad frame creating a shadow above you, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked at you. As if he was trying to read what was going on in your head.
You feel a little dizzy. The whole situation was so strange, so surreal. This wasn't what my first conversation with another human being in two years was supposed to look like. This wasn't how the first meeting was supposed to go. At least it wasn't what you imagined.
There's something wrong with the man across from you. Weird, dark, terrifying. His attitude irritates you and something inside you finally breaks. You explode.
“Ghost, listen…”
You started, raising your voice slightly
“I don't know what your intentions are, why you're so defensive about this town and this dog. But I came here alone! ALONE! I haven't seen a living person in two fucking years. I don't understand what kind of travelers you're talking about and why you don't want to admit that this dog is mine. But... but I don't want to leave, not after finding Riley."
When you say this, you look at the dog that sat between you and the soldier. Riley lay down, as if he was also tired of all the strange interaction between two people he knew, through which he was confused.
Ghost remains silent, never taking his eyes off you, as if wondering what to do. Pros and cons.
Finally, the sound of the watch interrupts his persistent gaze, and the man sighs loudly, as if resigned, and says
“Let's just say… I believe you. Temporarily”
The man secures the gun and hangs it on his shoulder. Seeing this, an involuntary smile appears on your face.
“Come on, kid, it's late. We have to go”
Ghost points to the sun, which is slowly starting to hide behind the buildings
"We'll finish this conversation somewhere else. Come on, both of you."
He waves his hand and points in the direction to go.
“Go ahead, I'll watch your back.”
The walk to the car doesn't take long, and you're glad that you won't have to walk another distance on your still scarred and aching legs.
"No way!"
You scream in shock when you see a large, dark pickup truck parked in the cul-de-sac.
“You have a working car! I couldn't find..."
Standing at the passenger door, a man interrupts you, stands next to the trunk and you open the hatch
“Riley, get in. You sit in the back too”
He points to the trunk of the pickup truck
"What? Are you kidding me?"
This man was behaving absurdly. You guess that years of loneliness made him unable to behave socially. He forgot what it was like to interact with another living person.
“Just. Get. In. And don't whine unless you want to walk to the tower. You know the way.”
The man looked at you without blinking.
“To the tower? Why are we going to the tower?”
You say in disbelief, letting go of another exchange of words, slowly climbing into the trunk and sitting down next to the dog. Ghost closes the trunk, making sure the dog is safe, and gets behind the wheel.
“We need to visit your companions. Since they're not in town, they're probably waiting for you there. You know my name, so you must have read the letter.”
As the car starts moving, you start to wonder if you did the right thing by getting into the trunk. Letting a stranger take you away, God knows where. There was something wrong with this man. He thought Riley was his and that you weren't coming to town on your own. Maybe he too, like you, has been living alone all these months. And he clearly couldn't cope with it. You hug the dog, just hoping that when you reach the tower, the man will finally believe you and let you stay.
Nevertheless, you did not want to be left on your own again. Only now did you feel how much you missed another living person. How much you needed to feel someone's presence. To know that you were not meant to live in isolation. You felt that the burden that had stuck with you through those many sleepless, weeping nights had finally fallen from your shoulders.
Maybe it was destiny. This was your fate.
So, you accept it already.
Even if from now on, you will have to live with this strange, mysterious man in a mask.
taglist:
@leviathanleva
@chocolate-noodles
@vmaxis
@poohkie90
@ghostlythots
@nobodys-coffee
@famouscattale
@youdontneedtoknow1226
@pimpinsins
@justguessfan
@novasilvae
@pausbirudanlumbalumba
@ella2497
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#cod#ghost#call of duty fanfic#cod au#ghost x reader
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How an animated series saved Remy LeBeau (again)
It's a bit of a hyperbolic title, but catchy, non?
I was looking over my comic collection as I've decided to reread X-Men's 60 year history over the course of the summer. And it got me thinking about a dead period of 616 canon that I've never actually read. Around the time Rogue hooked up with Magneto and scooted off to the Avengers, I decided I'd be done with comics for a while. And didn't start again until Rogue (and Gambit) came back to the X-books in 2017's Astonishing X-Men. But it made me wonder -- What happened to Gambit in that time??
Well, after his solo ended, he flitted around to X-Factor and hung out with X-23 and then kind of went 'poof' for a good long while.
Why? I can only guess the same reason this is a running motif with Gambit. There's something about him that drives the X-Office crazy. I'm not here to speculate what or how or who of it all. I don't know enough about the back end of Marvel to give concrete answers. But I think what has surprised me (recently) is that he's definitely a fan favorite character.
[Yes, I know he can be a divisive character. Yes, I know elements of his character from the 90s have not aged well. Yes, I know there are those of you who can't stand him. Don't really care - you can get off my lawn, thank you.]
Which got me thinking -- Gambit's original popularity, I believe, stemmed from the original X-Men Animated Series. He had just started showing up in the comics at the time, and had barely any kind of page time. And the X-Men TAS swung and was a hit. And so was Gambit.
I don't really know that Gambit would be around today if TAS hadn't done its thing. Would the X-Office have kept him around? I really have no idea.
But they did try to get rid of him. That was the point of leaving him in Antarctica. And things were just never the same after that. Claremont tried his best in the early 2000s. And then Deathbit happened. Carey's run wasn't bad. But Carey clearly had an agenda for other things... And then, Gambit just kind of faded into the background. (I hear his run as a side character for Laura (X-23) was good - but I haven't read that.)
Bless Kelly Thompson (always) for sparking life back into him with (and his relationship with Rogue). And bless the fact that she actually married him to Rogue. Yes, I understand comics -- my god look what they did to Peter and MJ, no one really gets to be happily married except Sue and Reed. He and Rogue are now really tied together in a way that I don't think is going to be undone any time soon.
Even if the X-Office still isn't thrilled with the guy. Krakoa era has been less than ideal. (I can't comment on it fully - I haven't read much of it, as I'm behind on my comic reading.) But I've heard rumors that one reason Thompson was let go was that she didn't want Gambit killed off. And she didn't like the direction they wanted to take the character.
Which leads me to X-Men 97. Killing him off sucked. Really. As a fan, it really sucked. But - my god, the reaction to it. Gambit was amazing. And all I've heard lately is good things about the character. There's been a Gambit resurgence in the best way. He may have went out -- but he went out with a bang. X-Men 97 made an emotional impact with people. And that changes things.
Gambit is cool again.
And I love it.
What's even more exciting is the fact that the X-Office has changed hands again and Gail Simone on Uncanny who (if her Twitter/X feed is to be believed) is really enjoying writing the character. Which means (hopefully) at least another year or two in the comics of some (hopefully) great Gambit stuff.
And maybe there will be some changing of hearts and minds in the X-Office.
It's actually very exciting.
And, guys, I really (really, really) doubt he'll be completely gone from X-Men 97, too.
Because Remy LeBeau never stays down for long.
But as a fan, it's nice to see him be on top again. And I don't think he's going anywhere anytime soon.
#gambit#remy lebeau#xmen#x men#x men 97#marvel#probably good this is so late at night#it's just a jumble of thoughts I needed to write out#I need to have a marvel meta tag#marvel meta#?#good lord I need sleep
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Her pt. 1
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader
Prompt: natasha meets y/n while undercover at a soup kitchen. What happens when hydra gets mixed in?
Warnings ⚠️: cursing, some angst, mentions of blood and gunshot, getting beat up? Tell me if there’s any more!!
Pronouns: she/her
A/N: guys this one is really long 😭 idk how many words tho. Idk how to find that out. Make sure to tell me if you like it and follow if you want to see my next post. (Idk when it will go up but I think I’m gonna do a part two)
Natasha’s Pov
Ugh. This is so stupid. I hate this room.
Fury thinks it is a good idea for us to stay in a stupid rinky dink motel to keep our identities safe.
I think it’s bullshit. The least he can give us is a days inn. But noooo we gotta stay in a one star motel that stinks and has horrible water pressure.
I look over at Clint and glare. He smirks at me and says
“Why the long face?”
I sneer and say
“You know exactly why. We’re stuck in this dump for another month!”
He chuckles and says
“We’ve already been here a month. What’s one more? I honestly think this place is growing on me”
I roll my eyes and say
“Of course you would end up liking this shithole.”
He comes over and nudges my shoulder and says
“Hey! Think about it this way. You get to see her for another month.”
I narrow my eyes at him when he puts on a cheeky grin.
I scoff and brush it off like normal. But Clint knows. He knows me. He knows that I like her.
Her.
I could think about her all day if I tried.
You see, Clint and I are on an undercover mission to investigate a possible hydra meeting place. We’ve been eating at this soup kitchen for weeks. Acting like we’re homeless so we can get info. Normally I would hate this job. And I do don’t get me wrong, but there’s this one volunteer. Her name is y/n.
Y/n.
Doesn’t that just roll right off your tongue? I wish she’d roll right on my tongue.
I shake my head to void myself of these thoughts. But it’s all in vain. She is so pretty.
Her smile is bright. Albeit her teeth might not be perfect but I think it makes her even better. She makes this whole thing bearable.
Her sweet face, and quirky remarks make me almost blush.
Almost.
Clint snaps in front of my face and I look up at him and he says
“Did you hear a single thing I said?”
I shake my head even though I want to say yes. Whatever he said could have been important.
He sighs and says
“Well. I’m going to take a shower. And try to see if the water actually heats up this time. If not. I’ll still be in there a while. I gotta take a shit. So if you need to use the bathroom I suggest you go now or forever hold your peace”
I chuckle a bit and shake my head and he grabs his towel and says
“Alright. Have fun thinking about y/n”
He goes off and I lie back on the bed. It creaks but I don’t care anymore. All I can think about is her.
I don’t know who she is. She seems well off. But she’s not mean. No. What mean person would willingly volunteer at a soup kitchen?
She is so tender. Always making sure all the homeless people get their fair share and if she thinks someone is looking a little skinny one day she’ll give them a bit more.
She always gives me a bit more. Then says she put too much. Clint thinks it’s just to see me a bit more. I think she’s just a bit tired by the time I get in line.
Her.
God. It’s only been a month and her beauty floods my senses. I remember the first time she hugged me.
She smelled like oranges and cupcakes.
She always stayed and sat with all the homeless people. Making sure to update herself on their lives.
Clint and I stay longer though. So she ends up talking to me. He kind of acts closed off. So that he can always be on guard.
He knows my senses are being let down by her. And he’s okay with it. I wish I wasn’t.
She talks of her life a lot. And I sometimes think I see her look at my lips but I shake it away and try to forget that telling myself I imagined it.
By the time I’m done day dreaming of her today, Clint comes out and says
“One. Do NOT go in there. And two. Let’s get ready to go”
I sigh and smile a bit. I know I’m gonna get to see her. I put on my ‘homeless attire’ and we leave the building.
We walk into the soup kitchen along with some of the others who are nice. I look around and my eyes zero in on y/n’s normal spot. I see her and she sees me at the same time
She smiles excitedly and waves at all of us but her eyes linger on me. I wave back shyly.
We go up and she portions our food while asking how everyone’s day has been.
When it’s my turn she portions my food and hands it to me and then says
“Oh! I think I gave you a bit too much. Here let me fix it.”
She brushes her hand across mine and for the first time. I blush.
I blush
Crap. I blushed.
Thankfully she doesn’t notice. But I know.
She hands it back to me and says “there you go sweets”
I smile shyly but I’m screaming inside. I thank y/n and scurry off to my undesignated designated spot. Clint sits by me and says
“Did you?”
I slap him in the arm and say
“Shut up Barton or I’ll kill you”
He giggles and hops away from me to eat his food.
After a while y/n comes up to me and says
“Hey girl! I finally finished the portions. Wanna talk?”
She always asks if I want to talk and I always nod my head. She sits down and start yapping while I smile and listen to it all. At some point she says
“My mom and I always had this deal. That if I ever sent a message to her with a lowercase x at the end, that means I am in danger. Thank goodness I never had to use it though.”
She quickly moves on to another topic just as fast as she got to the previous. I try to keep up with her.
As the soup kitchen closes for the day around 3 and we all leave. I leave with a smile on my face.
God she’s so pretty.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wake up in bed and smile. I look over at my alarm clock and realize I have only about thirty minutes left to get ready for the soup kitchen.
I hop out of bed and Clint smirks and says
“You’ve never slept that long. You good?”
I roll my eyes and say
“Fuck off”
We quickly leave for the soup kitchen and I walk in and look for y/n. My eyebrows furrow when she’s not in her normal spot.
I go over to Calvin, the soup kitchen owner and say
“Hey. Is y/n here today?”
He shakes his head and says
“No. Surprisingly she sent me a text this morning saying she’s not gonna make it. Look”
Calvin turns his phone towards me and I read the message.
Y/n Y/l/n
Hey! I’m so sorry this is last minute but I can’t come in today. Hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow! x
My eyes widen and I say
“Oh. Okay. Thanks Calvin.”
I quickly walk to Clint who is eagerly waiting in line for his food. I whisper to him.
“We need to go. Y/n is in danger.”
He looks at me confused and says
“What? You heard Calvin. He said she said she was fine.”
I shake my head and only now does Clint realize I am being serious.
“Aww but I just got to the front of the line”
Clint whines and pouts and I say
“If I let you grab this you better get a to go box. And hurry”
In a stern voice. He nods his head and gets his food quickly.
We head back to the motel. I pull out my emergency bag and grab the laptop. I’m only supposed to go online in emergencies and I dictate this as one.
I explain to Clint what is wrong and he nods his head in agreement. Y/n has never missed a day of the soup kitchen. Even when she was so tired she looked dead.
I quickly power it on and start looking into her socials.
It’s a wonder I haven’t looked her up until now. It’s actually a wonder that I haven’t even heard of her. She’s popular.
She’s a famous artist. Actress and Singer/songwriter. Her name is Y/n y/m/n y/l/n. She’s 24. Only three years younger than me. She acts in some really popular movies. Of course I never have watched them. Or else I would have probably recognized her. She writes and sings a bit. But not much.
I start digging deeper. I look at her most recent posts and I see that she posted on Instagram about the same time that she sent the message to Calvin.
I read the post and it’s a cute picture of her. From yesterday. That’s the outfit she wore and she took a quick selfie in it.
She added a paragraph and I scour it intensely.
Hey guys! I know I don’t do this a lot but I whant to come on heere and thank you for your dedication tol me. I’m so excited to have hit fifty milliopn follmowers on Instageram. It’sh truly an hyonor to be lovedd by so rmany of youa. xoxo x
I see how she has a bunch of misspelled words and I put two and two together. The misspellings put together make out a sentence.
Help me hydra x
I look back at Clint and he says
“Damn. That was easy. She’s smart.”
All the comments are either fawning over her or bullying her for having so many misspellings but I know. She’s communicating to me. To anyone who notices. And I am the person right now.
Thankfully, the hydra people are fucking stupid. And I’m highly trained in coding. So I am able to track her phone easily.
I pinpoint it at the soup kitchen. And then Clint grabs my shoulder and says.
“The back room. Y/n always talked about Calvin chilling in a back room that she caught a glimpse of once. She said it looked scary.”
I widen my eyes and my shoulders tense up say
“You think they’re stupid enough to keep her there?”
He nods his head and I shake mine and say
“Well. There’s no harm in trying. And we might get our mission done faster if we’re right.”
I quickly put on my suit as Clint puts his on in the bathroom. He walks up with his bow and arrow at the ready and he says.
“You ready?”
I nod my head stiffly and we hop in the run down car that we are only allowed to use in emergencies. Once again we both dictate this an emergency.
Clint drives as I map out a plan outloud.
“Okay. So we’re gonna split up. You go in the front. I’ll go in the back. See what we can find. I know our mission is to get intel but if y/n doesn’t make it out alive I’m gonna burn the whole city down.”
Clint chuckles a bit with his signature smile on and I raise my eyebrow and say
“What?”
He shakes his head and says,
“Well, it’s just- you really like this girl huh? I mean burning the city down is a pretty big thing to do. And that’s kind of odd for you. I didn’t think you’d be the type.”
I scoff and cross my arms and say
“We need to focus on the mission. And not the fact that I may or may not be down bad.”
He chuckles once more and then pulls into a spot away from the soup kitchen.
I run to the back and Clint runs to the front once we solidify our plan and then we both easily break in. The soup kitchen is usually open in case there is a homeless person who desperately needs shelter. Like if there’s a storm or something. Thankfully though Clint tells me through comms that there’s no one inside.
“I’m in”
I say when I pick the lock. I frown when I realize that this is gonna be an easy feat. I know not to let my guard down. Just in case.
I hear a crackle when the comms come on and Clint says,
“Hey nat… you’re gonna want to see this”
I put my finger on my earpiece and say,
“Did you find y/n?”
“No, but I found the intel we were definitely looking for. And a lot more.”
I frown and say,
“Okay put it on a drive then come find me. I’m in the west wing. Call a quinjet to pick us up.”
——————————————————————————
Nobody’s pov
Clint downloads the files to a usb drive and he kind of freezes for a moment as he sees the files of horrifying victims flow into it. There’s footsteps headed his way and he pulls out his arrows and prepares to shoot someone.
One set of footsteps quickly becomes about four and something he can quite pin he takes a breath prepared to fight.
The doors open so fast he doesn’t even have time to blink before he is shooting his arrows. He quickly downs four of them but he knows there’s a fifth.
He slowly looks around the area they came in and moves around the desk only to find a shaking ball of a human. He squats down and says
“Y/n?”
So softly she might not have heard it. She snaps her head up and says
“Cliff?”
She sniffles when she says his code name and he holds his hand out for her and says.
“It’s Clint. I know this is confusing and scary but we’ve got to find Natasha and get you out of here before anything else happens okay?”
She nods her head and says
“Is Natalie Natasha?”
Clint nods his head and presses his earpiece to tell Natasha that they’re done.
Natasha huffs and says
“Wow you just have to take all the credit huh?”
Clint giggles a bit and then grabs the full usb drive and starts walking out carefully. He looks back at y/n and says
“Are you coming or not?”
She is shaking and says,
“Uh. I- I think I can’t walk”
Clint finally realizes that she has a bullet in her thigh and it’s bleeding a bit but thankfully not enough to kill her. At least for now. He sighs and says,
“Alright. I’m gonna pick you up and we’re gonna fly to New York for a bit to get you healed.”
She nods her head and we head off.
Once Clint gets everyone on the quinjet y/n passes out.
“Fuck”
——————————————————————————
Y/n’s pov
I wake up in a hospital bed. I open my eyes a bit just to close them immediately. You’d think that they would turn the lights down or something.
I groan a bit and someone is at my side. I don’t even want to see who it is. I just want to get back to my home.
Which is what got me into this situation in the first place.
——————————————————————————
(Kind of flashback?)
I walked out of the soup kitchen. Everyone had left and I locked the door. I decided to walk there today so I started my trek back home. And then I realized I left my phone. So I went back and unlocked the door.
Calvin was in there. I assume he is just restocking or something and I say hi and asked if he has seen my phone.
He dangles it in front of my face and then puts a gun to my head.
Shit
He says I need to make a text to send to him so that nobody from the soup kitchen worries about me and then make a post so that my fans don’t think anything of my absence.
At this point. I probably won’t be making it out.
Yes I’m famous. And yes I have a lot of caring fans.
But nobody knows me well enough to even think of me. And by the time someone does. I’ll probably be dead.
He walks me to the back room that I’ve only seen once. Damn. I knew this was sketch.
His grip on my hands is so tight.
I didn’t even realize I have tears streaming down my face until he says
“Quit your whimpering. If you get us caught you’re dead”
I look up at him and say
“Us? There’s more?”
He scoffs and says
“Of course there’s more of us. Hydra doesn’t do loners. We’re not dumb enough. Now shut up or I’ll kill you and everyone else you’ve ever loved. Including your little Natalie”
That shut me up real quick.
Fuck my life.
He throws me in a cell and beats me up. I have so many cuts and bruises already.
He left me about an hour ago and now I’m just laying here on the concrete. By my calculations the soup kitchen will open in about 8 hours. Hopefully Natalie notices I’m gone.
She notices everything.
I know she’s homeless and I’m not but part of me wants to take her with me. Give her a new life.
Make her mine.
But she doesn’t like me like that. And that wouldn’t be fair to the other homeless people who have been here even longer.
Gran says I’m head over heels and I should court her. But she’s also a bit crazy.
But then again pops says she likes me back. And although pops is like never wrong, there’s always a first time for everything. I’m not so sure though.
God how am I thinking of her at a time like this? I’m actually daydreaming about a silly little (not so little) crush of mine while my life is at stake. Well, I have nothing else to do. So thinking about her it is.
Her
She’s so beautiful. Even when she has dirt all over her and her clothes look like they need more than just a little stitching and washing.
Natalie
It’s a pretty name but it honestly doesn’t fit her quite right. I just don’t know what other name would though.
Meh. I’m probably just being weird.
By the time I am finished thinking about her I fall asleep and I wake up and calculate it is already morning. Thank god. My calculations are confirmed when one of the guards brought me food for some reason. I ask him
“What time is it?”
He says,
“I’m not supposed to talk to you but it’s 10:46 am”
I nod my head and thank him.
I scarf the food down so I can hopefully get as much energy before they take it away from me. Maybe I’ll be able to stay alive longer.
After I’m finished Calvin walks in and says
“What do you know about Natalie?”
I frown and say
“Why?”
“You’re very close to her. And i want info on her. If you tell me everything you know I’ll let you go”
I consider my options. But clearly they want her info for something. I don’t want her to be in danger. She’s strong yes. But she’s also homeless. Nobody to care for her. And I don’t want her to die on my watch. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if one of my favorite people died because of me. Hoe selfish would that be.
So I say the bare minimum.
“I don’t actually know much about her. I usually do all the talking.”
He kicks me. Ouch.
“I think her favorite color is red. And her favorite food is whatever I cook. At least that’s what she says.”
Another kick. Ow.
Calvin gets a bit mad and says.
“The soup kitchen is about to open. I’m gonna go get the food prepared and you’re going to think about every little thing she’s ever told you. And about that cliff dude too.”
I glare at him and say
“He never talks. You think I know anything? I’m just a stupid girl.”
He sneers and says
“If you don’t come up with anything good you better kiss your little girlfriend goodbye.”
I frown and curl into a ball as he leaves.
I mumble
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
What can I find that will seem plausible that isn’t true about her.
——————————————————————————
Time jump to after soup kitchen closes and Calvin comes back.
“Tell me everything you know bitch”
I spit at him and say
“I don’t know anything about them”
He gets really angry at that and he kicks me in the head.
I’m shaking really bad already. That’s gonna hurt way worse later. If I make it to later.
After more and more berating he finally has enough and pulls out a gun. I cry and sob and say
“Pl- please no. Calvin you’re better than this! It’s okay I won’t tell anyone! I promise just let me go. Please”
I beg but he doesn’t give in. He points the gun at me and shoots.
It hits me in my thigh and I scream. I scream and I scream and he says
“Shut up bitch. Nobody can hear you. They won’t hear you when you scream.”
I cry but I quiet down. Clearly there’s no point in using my voice. I’m just gonna die anyways.
Suddenly there’s a guard running to Calvin and he whispers something to him. Calvin looks at me and says
“Get up bitch. You’re coming with us”
Three more guards come and pick me up and start marching me away from whatever it is they’re scared of. They open a door and then I fall on the ground. They dropped me for some reason but I don’t care. I curl up into a ball and then a soft voice calls my name.
I look up and say
“Cliff?”
——————————————————————————
And that’s how I ended up here.
I’m in a hospital bed. Somewhere. Probably safe.
I finally open my eyes and see Natalie. Well. Natasha.
That name fits her better. Now I know why I felt that way. She’s still so pretty.
But she’s in a black catsuit. It shows off her curves. I look away because I don’t want to objectify her or anything.
She smiles and says
“You’re awake”
I can tell that she wants to say something else but doesn’t know if she can.
I look at her and say.
“Yeah. What happened?”
“Well. You obviously know you were kidnapped by hydra.”
I nod my head and don’t let her finish. I’m clearly hurt when I say
“Why did you lie to me?”
She sighs and says.
“I’m sorry. You have every right to be mad at me. I lied because I am an avenger. We’re in New York City at the avengers tower. I can take you home as soon as you’re cleared. But for now I’m going to explain okay?”
I nod my head and let her speak.
“Since I am an avenger and a highly ranked spy, I sometimes have to go on missions undercover. My name is Natasha romanoff. My alias’ are Natalie rushman, black widow and others. I was recently undercover with my friend and coworker Clint Barton. His alias’ are cliff barren and Hawkeye.”
She pauses and then continues
“We were looking to find intel. We had a hint that hydra, the people that took you, were there. Thankfully you were able to send a message out before they took you. They’re dumb. So I tracked you the second I knew you were in danger.”
I frown and say
“So you lied about not knowing who I was?”
She shook her head and says
“I only found out who you were after you sent that message. Because I looked you up on my emergency computer. So no. I didn’t lie about that. Y/n you are very brave and strong. Most people wouldn’t have made it out of there. Most people didn’t.”
I nod my head and say
“So. How long have I been out?”
“About a day and a half. Clint and I went to the soup kitchen the past two days to make sure everyone was okay. It’s under new management already. She’s nice. Her name is Mary. We cleared out hydra and everything and everyone at the soup kitchen is okay.”
I nod my head and say
“That’s good.”
I frown and say
“What now?”
She sighs and sits down and says
“Well. You have a few options after you’re cleared. Continue on with life and forget all about us. Or, we can create a new safe soup kitchen and you can start creating houses for the homeless. Give them new opportunities. Get some of them into rehab. Follow your dream. Fully paid of course, courtesy of Tony Stark and SHEILD considering you helped us get one of the biggest bouts of information in a very short amount of time.”
My eyes light up and I say
“Wait… you… you listened to me when I was talking?”
Natasha nods her head and says
“I don’t know if you noticed but I notice everything. When you talked about your dreams of retiring as an actress to help the needy, it was so moving. It’s a good dream. And I want to help you achieve it.”
I sit up carefully and say
“I’m so excited I could just kiss you!”
I realize what I said and then say
“Oh shit. I didn’t- I don’t- I didn’t mean that”
Natasha says
“Really? Because I would have done it if you did mean it.”
I widen my eyes and point at her a little dumbfounded and say
“You- you wanna- I-l”
She smirks and walks up to my hospital bed and leans into me. She stops just before to silently ask permission and I nod my head.
She presses her lips softly into mine and they’re softer than clouds. She pulls away softly and I giggle like a school girl and say
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”
Natasha raises her eyebrow and says
“Even when I was covered in dirt and smelled like shit?”
I shrug my shoulders and say
“I think it adds to your charm. You’re a cutie”
We hear a chuckle from the doorway and Clint walks in. He smirks and says
“I don’t think anyone has ever called Natasha romanoff a cutie and made it out alive.”
Natasha rolls her eyes and says
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nobody called me anything”
I giggle and say.
“Natasha?”
She immediately looks at me and I say
“Do you think I can really do that homeless shelter?”
She nods her head and says
“I know you can.”
I smile realizing a whole new chapter of my life is about to start. And it’s gonna be great.
All because of her
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: whew!! Damn that was long. I hope y’all liked it!!! Please tell me if there are any warnings I missed. I think I’m gonna do a part two of the next chapter in y/n’s life. I really just write whatever I’m thinking about lol. My anons are in fact open. I don’t have too many requirements. But expect to have a happy ending lol I’m so sappy 🤷♀️🩷
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heya! can u tell me more about liturgy? i want to participate im a nondenominational catholic but i want to be more active in my faith! is it too late to start?
Welcome, beloved!
"Liturgy" comes from Greek and means "public service," and Christians use it generally to mean the order of events/ritual in communal worship, although it can sometimes refer to personal worship, like the liturgy of the hours.. Different denominations range in their formality and structure, but there is a pretty standard order in at least Western churches with traditional liturgies and from what I can tell, Eastern rites have very similar ideas/sections. Encyclopedia Britannica has a pretty good basic history of Christian liturgy, and the Wikipedia page has some good sections/links.
There are liturgies for different times of day and events, but the most common/important Christian one is the service of Holy Communion, practiced every Sunday. This comes from two places I can think of. First, Judaism has the practice of keeping the Sabbath, and the first Christians, being from Jewish communities, already had the ritual of weekly worship, but, partially to differentiate themselves from Jewish law but also as an acknowledgement of the most important event in the Christian faith, the Resurrection, began to meet on Sundays. Second, Jesus at the Last Supper commanded us to "do this in remembrance of me," and Paul tells us that "whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes." We eat and drink as Jesus taught us, and can see that even in the first generation of Christianity, the holy meal was central.
We worship together because religion is interpersonal, and Jesus did not come simply for us personally, but for us all communally. My response to the missionary's question of "Do you have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ?" would be "No, I have an interpersonal one." (Unlikely my father, who said, "Yes, I eat him.") Obviously there is great diversity of situation/location, and joining a church is not in the cards for every person. But, nonetheless, we must live out our faith with others, whether that's church, family/friend gatherings, interfaith worship, or any kind of community gathering/serving. And I'll say it more later, but no, it's not too late to begin this or move in a new way.
Here is, very generally, the order/content of the liturgy of Holy Communion I know, which I think is almost identical to the Roman Rite:
Confession/absolution: We a general confession of sin, ask God to help us, and the pastor announces God's forgiveness. Private confession is not the norm in Protestant churches, so this where we bring our confessions to mind before God.
Procession/hymn: In my church, the pastor does the confession from the back of the room, and processes, with the assisting minister, acolyte(s), and crucifer, to the altar, while we sing an entrance song.
Kyrie/litany/hymn of praise: We sing petition and praise—the songs/chants change depending on the season.
Prayer of the day/collect: This prayer changes every week and gives the context for our gathering. It references whatever season we're celebrating and sometimes the Bible readings we'll hear.
Scripture readings/lessons: This is generally one reading from the Old Testament and one from the New Testament non-gospel books (Acts/letters/Revelation). The cycle of readings throughout the year follows the seasons and tells overarching stories/themes.
Psalm: The one book we read (or, sing) from every single week is the book of Psalms. In our church, we perform a call and response chant for that week's psalm in between the OT/NT readings.
Gospel verse/acclamation: As the Bible is being brought to the pastor, we usually sing "Alleluia, Lord, to whom shall we go?" including John 6:68-69, but during Lent we sing "Return to the Lord your God" from Joel 2:13.
Gospel: A reading from Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John relating to the season/other readings.
Sermon/homily: The pastor preaches on the readings or season, usually providing further information about them and giving us a lesson to take with us for the week.
Hymn of the day: We sing our second hymn here. This is usually the one most thematically relevant.
Creed: Either the Apostles' or Nicene Creed is recited. This is a weekly affirmation of our shared beliefs, uniting us with every Christian across time and denomination who has said these words.
Prayers of the church: Multiple intercessory prayers are read relating to the season, current events, members of the church, etc. These conclude with a remembrance of the dead, naming those who have recently died and making space for people to call out their own loved ones.
The Peace: Historically, this ritual greeting was the "kiss of peace," but all churches that I've been to have gone for handshakes or hugs instead. I think Catholics do the Peace after Communion, which honestly makes more sense, but this is where it is for us. I have appreciated it recently, as I'm often crying after the remembrance of the dead.
The Offering: The offering plate is passed around while singing, and people are welcome to make donations. These funds go toward paying the pastor and organist, worship supplies, upkeep of the church building/grounds, members in need of support, and donations to charity. After collection, we pray that we will use the money in service of God and our neighbor.
Preface/Eucharistic prayer/Great Thanksgiving: The pastor begins holy communion with a recitation of Jesus's words at the Last Supper, and calls the Spirit to be present in our meal.
The Lord's Prayer: The prayer Jesus himself gave us to pray! Everything we need to say, right there. Maybe we should save time and just do this?
The Communion/Eucharist: We all come forward and receive communion. Churches have varying levels of real bread and wine—we get real wine but little wafers, some places go for grape juice. This is the central act of gathering—we can read the Bible on our own, we can pray on our own, but we cannot share a meal by ourselves. Breaking bread together is the fundamental Christian ritual, however that materially/theologically shows up in our communities.
Songs of thanksgiving/prayers: We give thanks for the meal, and pray that it will sustain us.
Closing hymn: Catholics don't stay for all the verses of this, it seems. I've been the last one singing before—as a visitor. This is my main (loving) critique of y'all's liturgy.
Benediction: (See, we're not allowed to leave because we have to wait for the blessing, however many verses of the hymn there are.) The pastor recites the priestly blessing from Numbers: "The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you. The Lord look upon you with favor and give you peace." The assisting minister then sends us with these words: "Go in peace, serve the Lord. Thanks be to God."
I find liturgy really valuable for lots of reasons. Just on a base level, I crave rhythm and ritual. I've said the words my whole life, which means I don't have to know what to say or do, I don't have to get anything right or perform. I meet every week with a group of people who want to say the same words while coming from so many different kinds of lives. We want to tell stories and sing songs together, the same as Christians have since the very beginning, the same as humans have since creation. Every week, I am reminded of what this is all for. It's a kind of reset, and I keep needing it.
It's also a foundation for our community--the church is our gathering space, where we share meals, where we mourn our dead, where we organize, where our children play. The liturgy grounds us in common stories/music, and we take this with us to everything else. Many people who have left the church have said that there's not really an societal equivalent, and I mourn the fact that the church has not been a space for everyone, and that there aren't similar secular spaces. Especially in the sharing of money and time, I've learned really valuable lessons about community from the church.
It is never too late to need this, to join in, to attend a church, to start praying, to get baptized—these things are not age-dependent, and they come to us all differently. The disciples were old and young, the saints have come to God at all different times, and our lives do not all follow the same pattern. There's that joke about how Jesus didn't start his ministry till age 30—but even if you're way past 30, you only need a day in which to live seeking God, and God willing you have many days ahead of you.
Maybe this has been on your mind for a while, and it feels like you've missed your chance—you haven't. Each day we recommit ourselves to life, which means each day we have the opportunity to change it. I have never been to a church that would look down on someone beginning their church participation at any age—even the most annoying conservative churches I can think of love when people start coming.
I don't know what the church options are where you live, but I'd encourage you to visit some! Attending is not a promise to join or keep attending, just a participation in a liturgy. There may be restrictions for taking communion depending on your baptism/membership, but there are no restrictions on coming and listening and singing. And even if just once, you'll have participated in the unfolding story of Christian communal worship, and made it better by being yourself and coming with love.
There are churches who have completely different liturgies/practices—Quaker meetings are a great example. As I mentioned, there are personal liturgies that, while not a replacement for community, can introduce ritual into our homes and keep us faithful us as we seek community (I'm currently practicing Phyllis Trible's Divine Hours). Tradition sustains us, and is continuously being created. Wherever you find your home, whatever songs you sing, may God go with you, and may you never feel it is too late to start absolutely anything.
<3 Johanna
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Goodbye Don't Last Forever
Javey. Kind of funny ngl. Enjoy.
David Jacobs was eighteen and newly graduated when his girlfriend, Francis Sullivan, left for Santa Fe, leaving no goodbye and no way to contact her.
David went crazy when she left. He loved her and she left without a word to him. He made some stupid (but not too regrettable) decisions in the time after. Dyed his dirty blonde hair a dark shade of brown. Started wearing his glasses again. Went outside only when required (as in almost never). Stopped talking to many of his friends.
Only two of the habits died, and fortunately it was those last two. He found himself to be pretty fine within a few months of her being gone.
Six years later, David Jacobs was 24 years old and getting a new roommate.
"Hi, are you David?" A confident voice came from behind him.
He turned to face- woah he's hot- the person asking the question.
"Yeah, yes, that's me. David Jacobs. Hi."
The man smiled and held out a hand to shake.
"Jack Kelly."
Those eyes... that handshake. So familiar. But the familiarity was out of reach in David's mind.
So he stood up a little straighter, smiled back, and said, "Nice to meet you in person finally. I mean I trusted Albert enough to not find me a serial killer roommate but... I feel very assured now, haha..."
"I won't kill ya, Davey."
Davey...
"Good to know. Same here. Do you need help taking anything up?"
Jack shook his head. "All I's got is this." He nodded to a moderately sized suitcase that he was gripping.
"Oh. Sorry, I didn't-"
"It's nothing, Dave. I just had to leave kinda quickly and didn't have much anyways."
"Well, uh. Let me uh... I guess, follow me?"
...
David was down bad for his roommate. And, down bad as in like, Taylor Swift "if I can't have him/I might just die it would make no difference."
Something about him, Jack, felt so familiar in all the most wonderful ways. His smile was a smile David felt like he had seen dozens of times.
David wanted to know why. He wanted to know why this boy felt so natural in the environment. Why he seemed to be the missing piece in David's life.
He was going to find out.
Not today though, he decided, when Jack entered the apartment looking like he was about to burst into tears.
"Hey, are you okay?" David asked slowly.
Jack nodded stiffly, putting his head down and throwing his bag and coat to the floor.
"Jack, you look sad."
"I'm fine."
"Jack."
"I ain't- you don't gotta be all in my business." Jack was heading to his tiny bedroom, so David grabbed his arm to stop him.
"You can tell me, you know?"
Jack leaned forward, hugging David, beginning to cry.
"Woah, hey. Hey, it's alright, let it out..." David wished Jack would hug him more often, and not while crying.
Jack continued to cry for maybe three minutes, David didn't know exactly. What David did know is that when Jack made eye contact with him, he looked like he had done something horrible.
"I ain't a real boy, Dave."
David's heart could have shattered just then, hearing Jack sound so broken.
"What do you mean, you aren't a real boy?"
"I wasn't- I'm not- I am a boy. I know and promise that I am but I just- wasn't born that way and I feel like a fraud and I get sad sometimes."
"That's okay to be sad, Jack. But you're a boy, I know you are. If you say you're a boy, you're a boy. No, how old are you?"
"Twenty-four."
"Okay, Jack Kelly, you are no boy, you're a freakin' man."
Jack smiled a little, wiping his eyes dry.
"Thank ya, Davey."
...
David was having none of this "stay up until 3 AM painting" bullshit.
"Jack Kelly, you will start going to bed at a decent time or so help me-"
"I'm fine, Dave!" Jack defended himself.
"You drank four coffees today and three energy drinks. I don't even know how you're still alive!"
"Fine, fine. I will be in bed no later than midnight."
"Is that the best I'm gonna get?"
"Yup."
David sighed, deciding to give in.
"At least show me what you've been working on into the ungodly hours of the night?"
"Maybe someday." Jack smiled mysteriously and disappeared once again into his room.
David was not staring at his fine ass as he retreated. He wasn't.
...
"Davey, do you got any food?"
David was regretting getting a roommate but also enjoyed having someone around. He didn't appreciate having to buy random shit every other week because Jack had a craving and pretty much no money. (He spent his money on rent and art supplies, which David didn't mind because his apartment was cheaper and Jack's art was amazing.)
"We have fruit snacks and spaghetti-o's if that qualifies as food. We might also have a banana."
Jack strolled into the kitchen area after David's previous statement and pulled out a packet of fruit snacks, a can of spaghetti-o's, and the blender.
"What the fuck are you doing?" David asked, shocked and amused all at once.
"I'm making me some dinner, you want some?"
"Jack, there is no way in Hell you are going to eat- drink spaghetti-o's and fruit snacks put through the blender. It's gonna be terrible."
"Actually, no it isn't. My old friend dared me to do it and it actually tastes good."
David had a brief memory flash through his mind.
"Francis! I dare you to put the two most different things you can think of in the blender and then drink it." Race shouted.
"Okay, I'll do it." Francis smiled that daredevil smile of hers and got started. Spaghetti-o's and fruit snacks.
When it was complete, Francis took a long drink.
"Wow. That's actually not terrible."
"Davey, you good?"
David nodded. "Sorry, just. You just reminded me of something."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Ex-girlfriend."
"Thought you said you're gay?"
"She kind of helped me out on discovering that."
"Well. That's nice of her. How so?"
"Uh. It's a long story."
"I bet I can handle it. Besides, I have an abomination to drink. I'll listen."
"Oh. Okay. Well. Basically, she decided she was going to Santa Fe and wasn't going to, you know, say goodbye to me or anyone. And I spent a long time angry and then realized I didn't really miss her romantically at all and just was pissed, and then me and my friend Albert accidentally fucked when we were drunk and I was like 'wow that's allowed?' and anyways uh Al and I aren't and weren't interested in each other at all, we were just drunk like I said, but then it all made sense why I wasn't like, sad over the 'love of my life' leaving because it was just a high school girlfriend and I'm not even into girls. So I'm not even mad at her anymore really I'm just gay and confused and I've talked a lot now sorry."
David looked up at Jack for a reaction. He was wearing this face... David could not name the emotion.
"What was her name?"
Huh. Weird question.
"Why?"
"Well, I was just wonderin' if maybe I met her, since I's come here from Santa Fe and all."
"Oh. Yeah, uh. Her name's Francis Sullivan."
"Have a picture?"
"Yeah, one sec." David scrolled through his phone's camera roll until he found her. "Here."
The picture made Jack frown, and David kind of would have done anything to make him smile again.
"You know her?" David asked.
"Yeah, uh. I knew her."
David's heart sped up.
"Really? Is she doing okay? Is she alright? Do you know where she lives, cause I might need to go-"
"Davey. Stop."
"What?"
"You can't exactly go visit her."
"Why not?"
Jack seemed to be looking inside himself instead of at David when he spoke.
"She was... the real depressed type, Dave. Always sad. She never smiled, I don't think. She was in a real bad state of mind."
"What're you-"
"She ain't alive no more."
Everything stopped in David's head.
"What?"
"I'm real sorry, Dave. She just ain't... But I'm here."
"What's that supposed to mean? 'You're here?'"
Jack hesitated before opening his mouth. "She didn't exactly... die the way you're thinking. She, uh. She just... more... changed? She ain't Francis anymore. She cut her hair and went on T and got top surgery and goes by a boy's name now, and he/him. So, uh, tellin' ya she died was probably not the brightest idea but that was an in-the-moment decision."
"Good for him. What does that have to do with you being here?"
Jack made absolute eye contact with David, wondering how he could be so fucking stupid, and held it. Held it as he crossed the room and held it up until the moment he pulled David into a hug.
"I'm sorry for leavin' you. I just had ta get away."
David jerked away from Jack in a quick movement.
"You? You're... You- I can't-" David's brain was moving too quickly and all he could think to do was punch Jack in the face as hard as humanly possible.
Which he did.
"Son of a bitch- Dave! I only told ya cause I thought you said ya weren't mad anymore!"
"Yeah, well. Now I am, asshole. You... You deep friend burnt-ass dino nugget dickhead. You absolute.... I can't even. How dare you? I fucking loved you, yes even if I'm gay now, and you, you just ran the fuck off and never bothered contacting me for six years. I would have understood if you needed to leave, needed to leave me, needed... whatever. I would have given you your space. I hate you."
Jack looked hurt. It made David feel good. All that pain he went through and it was being passed on.
"Davey-"
"David."
"Right, sorry. David. I'm really sorry. I don't- I never meant ta hurt you. To be honest, I thought you'd be glad if I left and never came back."
David felt less good.
"I just- I wanted to feel like I could be free. It didn't really... go as planned. Because I just realized I wanted to come back. Mostly for you."
David didn't stop to think. David just kissed Jack like he was hungry for it.
"I fucking hate you." He said, pulling away.
"No you don't."
"Don't test your luck."
A small moment of touching silence passed.
"So..." Jack started. "You slept with Al?"
"Now I actually do hate you. Get out, I'm calling him. Maybe he'll be nice to me."
"Davey... I love you. I always did."
"I'm... good to know. I can't- I'm still mad, bitch."
Jack just laughed, and he knew right then that it would all be fine.
A/N: hope y'all liked it :) It'll be on ao3 asap
#newsies#javey#fanfic#newsies fanfic#javey fanfic#I think its amazing#uhh has some cussing#but some bomb-ass insults#newsies live#trans Jack kelly
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Hey hey I need to uuh hum fight you at the back of a Denny's or something over those tags on my cyberpunk post lile wtf? That's such a good analysis of his character I love your work a lot in general but this is doing me in I'm gonna cry, you're so fucking right about this dumb broken man 🥺😠
I will not fight you I will bake you a cake and give you a kiss because you're very sweet I appreciate your kindness 😘
I really love your perspective on Johnny's disabilities and addictions impacting how he sees and interacts with the world-- as someone who herself isn't disabled I tend to overlook the way people view the world through that lens and as a result have realized that I haven't touched upon it much in my own analysis of Cyberpunk, and your insight really was spot-on and spoke to me in a way I hadn't considered before.
I talk a lot about the themes and meta of the game but Pondsmith himself came out and said, like, before the game came out that Johnny is not the hero of the story. He THINKS he's the hero of the story but the way people and even himself idolize him and his actions are in many ways his biggest shortcoming. Johnny is addicted to the image of himself, much like he's addicted to his vices and addicted to his cause. He needs his anchors no matter how detrimental they are to him, but in many respects those anchors were never his choice. Now he's stuck in his place, dug in and unable to move, and that's the way he dies. Alone, unmoored, and stuck in his ways.
He's a very tragic and even empathetic character-- I do understand why he does the things he does and feel for him when he suffers tragedies-- but treating him as a hero of this story is wrong, in my opinion. He's a disabled, traumatized war veteran who was set up in life to fail at a very early age. His flaws are of his own making. They are not of his own design.
#brujebutch#Johnny Silverhand#He's just so.................tragic but in a very stinky way#Of course he was going to dip right back into his ways the second he got body autonomy#In a very unrelated tangent I was actually just watching the Netflix documentary about Johnny Manziel (I know I know hear me out)#I won't go on a tangent about how the story of a real life man's struggles with addiction parallels my fictional blorbo I'm not that tactle#but it did frame the IDEA of addiction in a different light for me-- the addiction to fame and lifestyle in this case#Johnny's addictions-- while yes are physical in some cases-- are similarly intangible in my eyes and digging through the lore#At least the addiction to his image and his legacy. It's basically the only thing he has left Post-Mikoshi#He desperately needs to cling to the image of himself. JUSTIFY the image of himself. VALIDATE the image of himself#Johnny's addition to his own self image feeds into everything else and GOD is it just so#Both awful and infuriating. You want the man to stop but you know he won't and you get why he CAN'T#Anyway it's 11 pm here and I need to stop myself before I cry myself to sleep#Enjoy your day and thanks again for your kindness! I will not fistfight you at Dennys tho
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Having lost my cat, my uncle, my great grandmother, my grandma's best friend (& one of the people who helped raise me), AND my dad all within the span of 9 months,
I have little sympathy for people who use deaths as an excuse to be an asshole. I get it, it sucks. Get the fuck over it. Your grief is not an excuse to treat others like shit. What the fuck.
#speculation nation#this isnt anything personal. im just reacting to a post that kind of pissed me off.#to be fair i was never close with my great grandmother so im not particularly broken up about that one#but it's still yet another death in the family within such a short period of time.#my cat is on this list bc he was the first one and it majorly fucked me up. so yeah it deserves to be here.#the others. well. my grandma's best friend makes me sad but at least she was getting up in years#my uncle and dad though. especially my dad. yea those have fucked me up the most.#im never gonna be the same after experiencing all of this in such short succession.#it sucks in a major way. and things are still continuously tumultuous.#but you dont see me lording it over people and using it as an excuse to be an asshole.#maybe i make people uncomfortable with how casually i mention it. but like whatever. it's simply my truth.#that's still just like. me just talking about what ive been up to. that kind of thing.#idk acting like someone needs to be treated with the most tender of touches after experiencing a major death#to the point where you cant even tell them when theyre being a manipulative little asshole?#i dont fucking think so!#yeah okay all grief hits different but ive pulled myself up by the bootstraps and kept my head on straight#even after i experienced death after death after death after death after Fucking Death#whats your excuse? youre Sad? we all fucking are. thats just life.#it's horrible and awful and it sucks that we have to live with this but you CANT let that affect how you treat other people!!!!!#and here i am making my own post venting about it instead of replying to the aita post that sparked this#bc the person the post was about just made me so angry to hear about.#but i am... a reasonable adult who separates themselves from situations before reacting in anger...#and so im making a tumblr post to get the emotions out instead of getting emotional at random strangers lol#anyways i actually had a pretty good day today. but in the way of grief. the smallest things can trigger moods sometimes.#but i am letting the emotions flow... here they are... i have expressed them... and i shall now release them... amen...#negative/#i guess lol. i sure did rant enough for it.
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Some of Ya'll have no idea how to write impulsive characters and it shows
Say it with me kids:
Impulsive does not mean stupid.
Impulsive does not mean no common sense
I see too many people write impulsive characters as fucking idiots. As a fairly impulsive person myself, it makes me angry.
Every human being occasionally gets the the urge to do or say something that wouldn't be socially acceptable or would only make things worse, especially when they're emotional. Often (but not always, everyone does impulsive actions occasionally) people will think "no, I shouldn't do/say that" and then they don't do or say it. An impulsive person doesn't think twice about it. They do or say something potentially harmful, irresponsible, not socially acceptable, etc. and only AFTERWORDS do they realize oh fuck I shouldn't have done/said that fuck fuck fuck fuck.
An impulsive character will still make a plan of action. They might have a hard time sticking to that plan. An impulsive person will be easier to provoke into anger or another emotional outburst, but impulsivity is different from a "heat of the moment" outburst. Impulsive actions are quick.
Calling your girlfriend a bitch in the middle of an argument is pretty impulsive (and also not okay, lemme be clear about that). Making an entire "the reason you suck" speech towards your girlfriend is not impulsive (although a quick "the reason you suck" summary or bullet point list can be an impulsive action).
Punching someone in the face because they insulted you is impulsive. Doing an entire beatdown because someone insulted you is not impulsive, but can have roots in impulsivity - impulsive characters can sometimes get to the "heat of the moment BSoD" stage faster.
might add more points later, idk. Hope this makes sense.
#Yes this is about Jason Todd#everyone either writes him as a reckless dangerous idiot or they just completely erase his impulsivity#Even though that's one of his main character flaws#Him trying to save his mom was in fact an impulsive decision#or at least the way he did it kind of was (Hear me out here)#He cared about her and wanted to save her#and he focused so much on saving her that he had a hard time sticking to the plan he made#He impulsively trusted her#This is NOT me trying to say “yeah Jason's death was his own fault he got himself killed”#I've seen ppl say that shit that is NOT what I'm saying#It's important to note that flaw ≠ Bad Thing#a FLAW is simply something that makes a character more complex#Being too blunt is a flaw. Being too proud is a flaw. Being too confident is a flaw. Not being confident ENOUGh is a flaw.#Fatal Flaws exist#and Jason's is impulsivity#that does NOT make him stupid or anything like that#I"m very passionate about this#you can be a competent adult and still have impulsivity as a main flaw
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Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3
Different Up Here
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k
anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎
request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist
minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly
If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.
"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"
Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.
"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."
A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.
"Heh, that's a new one for out here."
Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.
"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"
"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."
"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."
You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.
That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.
Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.
"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"
Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.
"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."
You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.
"No, no no no no no. Just..."
The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.
"... fooling around... y'know?"
Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.
"Oh... oh darlin'."
He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.
"I don't think you're ready for that at all."
You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.
"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"
"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"
"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."
Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.
"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."
"Why? Sex is sex..."
You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.
"... Isn't it?"
"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."
The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.
"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."
His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.
"No, sir."
"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"
As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, sir."
You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.
You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.
And luckily, he seemed agreeable.
"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"
Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.
It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.
"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."
"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"
Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.
"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."
His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.
"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."
"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"
Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.
"Well, it's something like this."
He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.
Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.
Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.
"Well?"
"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."
"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"
He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.
"You like that? Like it rough?"
"I think... I think I like both."
"So, something like this?"
He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.
You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.
"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."
Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.
"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."
His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.
"Did they make you feel good?"
"No."
You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.
"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"
"A little..."
Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.
"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."
His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.
“And what about these pretty lips?”
Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.
“They touch these lips, huh?”
You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.
“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”
As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.
“Do it slowly though.”
Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.
“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”
You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.
“Turn around though. You face that way.”
The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.
“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”
A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.
The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.
It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.
“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”
His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.
“Don’t you dare, little lady.”
“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”
He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.
“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”
“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”
“I absolutely will not.”
Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.
Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.
“I am warning you, missy.”
“Cooper… I can’t stop…”
You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.
“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”
“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”
Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.
“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”
“Cooper…”
“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”
“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”
“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”
The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.
“Come on, darlin’, come on…”
Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.
As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.
“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”
You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.
“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”
As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.
“Alright then, get onto your knees.”
Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.
You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.
It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.
“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”
The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.
He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.
“Can I taste it… you?”
Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.
“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”
You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.
A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way. Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.
Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.
“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”
He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.
“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”
You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.
“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”
It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.
“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”
Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.
He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.
“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”
You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.
Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.
And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.
“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”
He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.
“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”
“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”
“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”
You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.
Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.
“Bigger than before?”
You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.
“Better?”
“Mhm…”
“Speak up, darlin’.”
With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.
“Yes… it’s better.”
“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”
Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.
“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”
“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”
Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.
“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”
You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.
“Ah… Cooper…”
“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”
There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.
“A little…”
Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.
His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.
“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”
He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.
“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”
You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.
“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”
With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.
“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl… good girl…”
It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.
And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.
You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.
“Did I say you could get up?”
Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.
“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”
Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.
“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”
Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.
When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.
“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”
“M-more?”
More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.
“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”
#fallout#fallout amazon#if this flops I’ll nuke everything by the way this fuckin behemoth stressed me out so much lmaooo#x reader#finnie writes#cooper howard#the ghoul#fallout fic#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul x reader#cooper howard fanfiction#cooper howard one shot#cooper howard smut#cooper howard imagine#fallout tv#fallout tv series#walton goggins#cooper howard x fem!reader
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saw my high school german teacher at the wedding shower this morning (should’ve occurred to me that he would be there since i knew he would be at the wedding) and it’s much more embarrassing to have to answer a former teacher when they ask what’s going on with you and you’ve got nothing going for you so i wish i had been prepared to have to deal with that today and not two months from now but anyway we’re in a mutual follow on instagram so he’s like “all i know about is your daily outfit pictures” and i was just like “that’s all there is!”
#personal#skdfihs i really do hate having to tell ppl i work for my dad in a job i don't even want#obvs i am grateful bc hey free job wish things could just plop into my lap like that bc the job finding process what little i tried with it#was so fucking annoying and impossible and i just do not have the energy for it#like even less so than i did several years ago but also like.....i truly need to and not just bc he's gotta retire eventually ya know#i just wanna do something i feel a little more suited for like there are aspects that work#sometimes certain things like bank reconciliations where when everything was input correctly and it all lines up#it's got the satisfaction that comes with organizing things which i love to do#and i like that at least here unlike the other one i worked for i do not have to interact with ciients#like i just want a job that is quiet and i don't have to deal with customers#and it just feels like those options are few and far between#it would help if at all in the last several years i had thought of something SPECIFIC i would like to do#but everything i think oh that would be nice like it's not realistic#and an office environment doesn't entirely bother me but for example i hate hearing a loud conversation between my coworker and a client#even if i can't hear what's being said for some reason that kind of background noise makes me crazy#bc i'm like i'm just trying to listen to my music and i don't wanna hear anything else#like i feel the same way at home when my mom is on the phone and even if she's down the hall or another floor it can be really loud#and even if i'm not doing anything that requires concentration it just feels like too much to me#so like anyway being that i am now ten years out of high school my brain has more than ever been like girl you gotta do something#but i don't know how to do it and i wouldn't even know what to try even if i DID know how#so i've basically been trapped for years and wanting out but part of it is that it's easier to stay and be miserable#but the other part is that i'm truly like....what would i apply for i don't feel qualified for anything#i don't feel like i have skills and my psych degree doesn't apply to much unless you're gonna get a masters#so. stuck.
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Part two of feisty slytherin reader where it’s just the boys being like kinda in love with reader and everything you can pick how reader responds
this ended up taking me way longer to complete than I thought it would! it also ended up way longer than usual. here's the lead up to our infamous poly!marauders x feisty!slytherin reader!!! 🫶
poly!marauders x feisty, fem slytherin!reader
CW: head injury - not graphic or detailed but mentions blood.
“Okay Moony, if you’re going to help us win over Y/N, you should know she does not like dramatic public displays of appreciation.” James said sagely as he walked into their shared dorm room.
Remus spared Sirius a confused look from his seat in the chair, but from the way James was currently rubbing his arm Sirius had a pretty good idea of what just took place.
“Yeah, erm, I don’t think you have to worry about that with me, bubs. Thanks for the heads up though.” Remus added bemusedly.
“Let me guess.” Sirius taunted, rolling over onto his stomach so that he faced James. “The charmed roses following her around the halls wasn’t a hit?”
“No, but she did...” He sulked, pulling his uniform shirt off to expose a small albeit quite red welt on his upper arm.
“Awe, poor Jamie. Come here bubs.” Remus cooed at him, opening his arms to invite the boy into his lap.
James obliged all too willingly and snuggled up to the werewolf like he was a small toddler and not a giant beefy man-baby.
“Don’t mollify him when he’s out here botching our grand plans to woo the girl of our dreams.” Sirius said, causing Remus to roll his eyes and James to scoff indignantly.
“Well at least I’m working on it! What are you doing to woo her?” James retaliated.
Sirius offered him a wolfish grin. “Oh, I’ve got a little trick up my sleeve.”
You had to get out of the castle. You could still feel everyone’s eyes on you, ogling you like you were some kind of freakshow.
You don’t know what kind of game those Gryffindor’s were trying to play, but you were not about to be the butt of whatever sodding joke this was.
Roses, really? Charmed to follow you around the castle as Potter smirked from the sidelines. Did he have any idea how humiliating that was?
So, yeah. You walloped him. In the arm. With your fist. Hard. But what else were you supposed to do!? You’d confronted him and demanded that he end the charm and all he said was ‘you look so cute when your nose scrunches up like that’.
He and Black have always been a bother – seemingly having taken some kind of interest in you for whatever reason. Lupin had always been more reasonable; one would think that he’d have evened those two out during their relationship, but apparently that was an impossible task. You supposed it was because he was all but one man.
But lately, even he was starting to stare at you a little too long, smile a little too softly, find too many excuses to be in your vicinity. It was infuriating.
So, you were outside.
It was nice outside.
Well, it was nice enough outside.
You packed yourself some snacks in your book bag, two blankets and an extra jumper to go sit by the Black Lake. You figured you should be able to enjoy some peace and quiet out here on your own.
You unfolded one of the blankets to lay onto the ground before sitting on it and then laid the second blanket over your lap. You could hear other students on the grounds in the distance and the soothing sound of the water lapping gently against the shore.
As luck would have it, a certain dog with long-black hair would set out to disrupt that.
“What are you doing here?” You asked the dog as it approached you calmly. You wondered for a moment if you should be scared before it stopped at the edge of your blanket to sit and tilt its head at you, his tongue falling out of his mouth haphazardly.
He didn’t look too scary, ignoring his size.
You craned your neck to look around, checking if perhaps he was here with someone, but it appeared that you were, in fact, alone on this side of the lake.
You felt something cold and wet nudge your pinkie, and you turned to see that the dog had laid down beside you with his head between his paws, nose next to your hand.
“If I pet you, are you going to bite me?” You asked him. He answered by nudging your hand again and offering it a little lick.
“You better not have fleas.” You muttered as you scratched behind the dog’s ears. You would have sworn he had furrowed his eyebrows at your comment if dogs could do such a thing. You noticed then that the dog had startling silver-blue eyes.
“Where are your people?” You asked, glad no one was around to see you conversing with a dog. He answered you by rolling over for belly rubs.
You scoffed out a laugh but acquiesced. “Fine, you can stay. But I came out here for peace and quiet, ‘kay?”
The dog seemed fine with that plan and let you read through two chapters of your book, only interrupting every paragraph or so for more pets. Eventually however, it grew too cold, and you decided to pack up.
Confirming your suspicions, the dog began to follow you towards the castle. You pretended like you hadn’t noticed or perhaps just didn’t care until you were near the greenhouses.
“For future reference, Black,” you said, turning to the dog who seemed to pause mid-step as you considered him. “I really am more of a cat person.” You smirked, turning to walk back to the castle alone.
“Here, let me get that for you.” James said, opening the door for you rather chivalrously in Sirius’ opinion.
“I’m not a delicate flower, Potter, I can open a door.” You muttered angrily, storming past him into the classroom.
James deflated a little as he followed you in, but perked up when Remus placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“I thought that was very sweet of you, Jamie.” He placated.
James gave him a half smile in response. “Thanks Moons.”
“I mean, what are we supposed to do? What bird doesn’t like dogs!?” Sirius grumbled, opting to ignore James’ whining.
“Don’t call her a bird, Sirius.” Remus chided.
“Probably didn’t help you’re a big ol’ mangy mutt.” James muttered petulantly.
“Oi!” Sirius called. “That’s not what you say when Padfoot snuggles you to sleep.”
James had the good graces to turn a little red at that.
Their conversation was interrupted (quite rudely if you asked Sirius) by Professor McGonagall as she began the instructions for today’s Transfiguration lesson: turning buttons into butterflies.
Sirius stole a concerned glance towards James to see Remus doing the same; they were horrified to see a mischievous look adorning their boyfriend’s face.
“Prongs...” Sirius warned, whilst Remus whispered a “remember what we talked about.”
But they both knew it was too late; there was no stopping him once James set his mind to something.
Sirius is quite sure it was the fourth butterfly that did you in; you seemed to consider the first a fluke, the second was annoying, the third made you suspicious, but by the fourth you’d had enough.
With little to no warning you turned and lobbed a large hard-covered tome at the group.
“I don’t know which of you tossers are behind this, but it reeks of Potter. So help me gods I will gut you and string you up to the rafters from your intestines if you don’t leave me alone!” You screeched.
“But how else will you know I’m crazy about you?” James pouted, causing you to groan exasperatedly.
“If you’re looking for some cutesy princess who will swoon at your sodding roses and butterflies, then you’ve got the wrong witch.” You spat.
Sirius smirked. “Oh, we have exactly the right witch.”
“I swear to Circe if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll sic Barty on you.” You threatened.
Sirius and James both scoffed whilst Remus smirked.
“Please dollface, you insult me. I’m not afraid of Junior.” Sirius taunted.
You narrowed your eyes at him menacingly before realization dawned on you. “Fine.” You said simply, giving Sirius a distinct uneasy feeling. “Perhaps I’ll tell Regulus.”
Sirius slammed his fist on the table and leaned forward. “You wouldn’t.” He seethed.
You smirked deviously. “Just try me, Black.” You sneered in response.
Did...did Sirius have a degradation kink?
Sirius was ashamed to admit that he had to take a very cold shower after that.
You had been sitting in the library trying to work on your Potions essay. You had felt fairly safe here seeing as the Gryffindor’s (at least the most problematic ones) had been sanctioned from using the library during quiet study hours on account of their typical foolishness.
Except one.
“Mind if I sit here?” Lupin’s lilting voice sounded from your right side before he sat down without waiting for your response.
“Why bother asking if you were just going to sit anyways?” You grumbled.
“Well, it was the polite thing to do.” He said, turning to face you. You held his gaze (his gaze, your glare) until he finally sighed. “I’ll leave if you want me to.”
You considered him for a moment. You couldn’t deny he was the least buffoonish out of the so-called Marauders though you’re not sure that amounted to much.
But he was quieter, kinder, softer around the edges. And he had been far more polite to you than his boyfriends.
“Are you going to flirt with me?”
One of Remus’ eyebrows (the one with the scar running through it, you noticed) raised expectantly as he considered you.
“Let me rephrase that.” You barked quickly, realizing your mistake perhaps a touch too late. “You may sit here, but if you flirt with me, I will stab you with my quill.” You punctuated your threat by blotting his hand which rested on the table with ink from the tip of your quill.
Remus smiled at the sight before returning his amber coloured gaze to yours. “Fair enough. I promise to try to restrain myself, but perhaps you ought to hold onto this hand for me just in case I slip up.” And he – the absolute sodding bastard – slid his left hand comfortably into your right.
You’d never seen someone make a move so assertively and smoothly before. There was nothing to say that any of this even affected Remus as he immediately turned his attention to his book. Was it hot in here? Your hand felt sweaty. Your throat felt tight. Your mouth was dry. Why didn’t you think to bring a bottle of water?!
“Erm,” you started, having to pause to clear your throat. “Just how am I supposed to get my work done with your hand in mine, Lupin?”
You had tried to sound threatening, but based off Remus’ smirk, you’d only managed to goad him further.
“You’re left-handed. Figure it out.”
These boys were going to be the death of you if you didn’t end up killing them first.
“You held her hand!?” James screeched in their dorm room that night whilst Remus smirked to himself. Sirius would make fun of James for his dramatics if he wasn’t just a pissed off about this.
“I’ve been working at this the longest out of either of you, and she lets you hold her hand?” He continued.
“She doesn’t like dogs,” Sirius grumbled, gesturing to himself, “she doesn’t like James. But the werewolf? Really. No offence Moons because I absolutely get the appeal.”
James snapped his fingers as he had a eureka moment. “I’ve got it! Remus; bite me!”
“James!” Remus scolded.
“It’s not fair.” James muttered as he fell onto his bed in defeat. “I’d be so good to her.”
Any ire from Sirius and Remus drained at that as they both moved to join their boyfriend on his bed.
“We know, bubs.” Remus conceded.
“We just...have to give her time. I’m sure she’ll come around, yeah? I mean, with Remus’ smooth moves, my undeniable charm, and your muscles? We’re unstoppable.” Sirius added, eliciting a smile from Remus and a gentle chuckle from James, though his usual light was diminished.
“We’ve just got to be patient, Jamie.” Remus concluded, causing James to groan.
“Patience.” He spat spitefully.
“A 'James ADHD Potter' special.” Sirius winked before kissing any further protests away from James’ lips.
“We’ve got Moony on our team now, bubs. We’re unstoppable.” He whispered, truly believing what he was saying.
If anyone could break through your hard candy-coating shell to reach the chocolate inside, it was certainly Remus Lupin.
You’d had the lovely idea of sitting outside on one of the few sunny days that Scotland got to see this time of year. Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone else had the same idea too.
A few Hufflepuffs were playing with a charmed muggle football, kicking it back and forth between the two of them and chasing after it when it opted to fuck off on its own. You didn’t understand the objective of the game, nor did you care to.
Remus and Peter Pettigrew sat on a bench not too far off playing a game of Wizarding Chess that, from where you were sitting, looked like Remus was winning.
You got so caught up in watching Lupin’s game with Pettigrew - in the way that the tendons in his wrist and hands flexed as he moved pieces across the board, and the way that his honey blonde curls fell in front of his eyes causing him to have to blow air upwards so he could see the board - that you noticed something flying at you far too late.
“Look out!” One of the dumb Hufflepuff’s shouted far too late as their charmed football soared into the side of your head, knocking you clean over where your head cracked painfully against a root of the tree you were sitting under.
You scrunched your eyes tight and tried to will your heart to start beating again and your lungs to cooperate, every part of your body seeming to have tensed out of instinct to protect itself.
“L/N! L/N! Come on, dove, open your eyes.” You heard a voice above you.
Why was the voice so worried? How long were your eyes closed? A gentle hand grabbed your chin and wiggled your head back and forth, causing you to hiss in pain.
“Sod...off.” You gritted through your teeth.
The voice chuckled and wiggled your chin once more. “There she is. Open your eyes for me.”
You hated being told what to do but decided to comply anyways.
You probably should have kept your eyes close because the sight made you feel dizzy for a completely different reason.
Hovering above your frame was Remus Lupin; his knees on the ground beside your elbow, one hand gripping your chin and the other gently moving hair away from your face and head.
“Atta girl.” He said with a smile.
“Get away from me.” You grumbled as you moved to sit up. Though Lupin hissed in protest, he helped you sit up nonetheless.
“Is...is she okay?” a timid voice spoke from somewhere behind Lupin’s shoulder causing his expression to darken considerably.
“You stupid wankers are so dead.” You spat as loudly as you could manage, though in your current state – that wasn’t very loud at all.
Your message was received loud and clear, however, as the two Hufflepuffs took off in fear.
“My sentiments exactly.” Lupin muttered as he turned back to you, jaw still tense.
You snorted indelicately as you brought a hand to your head. “Please, don’t tell me you actually care about me, Lupin.”
You hissed in pain as your hand came in contact with something warm and wet and slightly sticky. You pulled your hand back in front of you to inspect, only for Lupin to grab your hand rather harshly and wipe the blood away with a handkerchief.
“Is it so impossible to believe that we could actually care for you?” He muttered quietly, eyes focused on your hand, pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. You watched as his curls bounced with each wipe of his hand against yours. You thought of his gentle hands brushing hair away from your wound moments before. You thought of him begging you to open your eyes. You thought of him being the first one at your side when you were hurt.
And you thought about Black finding ways to be with you even when you staunchly refused his company. You thought of him taking time out of his day to tell you how ‘smoking hot’ you looked that day, even though he said it every day before that, too.
And you thought about Potter who always held the door for you, saved you a seat even though you never accepted it, showered you in affection even though it was public and quite embarrassing. And you thought of the way he always had a smile to give you, even when you gave him no reason to smile at all.
It wasn’t hard to imagine the three of them caring for anyone, quite frankly. Caring seemed to come second nature to those boys.
“No.” You admitted quietly. “It’s not impossible to believe that you could actually care. It’s just impossible to imagine why.”
He stopped rubbing at your hand and met your eye, seemingly contemplating what to say.
“Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey.” He opted for. “Pete, let the boys know where I’ve gone when they’re finished with practice?” Lupin called over his shoulder.
“I can walk myself, Lupin.” You grumbled as he helped you up by your elbow.
“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled back. “You’re not a delicate flower, we know.”
The two of you more or less muttered back and forth to each other the entire way to the infirmary, Lupin supporting more of your weight than he likely needed too but you didn’t feel the need (nor desire) to complain.
Madam Pomfrey was in the middle of looking after a first year Potions class who accidently set off an explosion of incorrectly brewed Cure for Boils which ultimately left each student (and Professor Slughorn) covered head to toe in painful boils.
“Mr. Lupin, if you could clean the wound for me. And Miss. L/N, drink the pain potion. Do not leave until I’ve had a chance to do a proper examination, okay?” She ordered as you positioned yourself more comfortably on the bed after she determined you weren’t about to die (or currently crying, as most of the first years were).
You took the pain potion dutifully and placed it back on the table beside your bed before you startled at the sudden cold wet cloth on your head.
“You are not seriously doing this right now, are you?” You spat.
Remus’ eyebrows drew together as his hands continued on in their task. “You heard the matron; I’m supposed to clean it.”
“I can clean it myself, Lupin; I’ll conjure a mirror.” You argued, causing the scarred boy to scoff.
“I do what I’m told L/N, and quite frankly, the matron scares me more than you do.”
“I must be doing something wrong then.” You sighed, thinking you hadn’t said that loud enough to be heard, but a startled laugh escaped Lupin’s lips.
“Why do you act so volatile?” He asked amusedly.
“It’s not an act.”
“I call bullshit.”
“Well, you call wrong, then, Lupin. I’m an arse and I find everyone exhausting. Deal with it.” You snarked sharply.
Lupin breathed a laugh through his nose. “Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime, then.”
Rotten bastard and his smooth talk...
“WHERE IS SHE!?” a voice echoed through the corridor just outside the entrance to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey needn’t even look up from the boil she was currently draining of puss to know who she was about to scold.
“Mr. Potter, I will have you banned from this infirmary so fast if you raise your voice above so much as a whisper, do not try me. That goes for you too, Mr. Black.” She barked; eyes still focused on the first year’s arm in front of her.
Sure enough, a mop of curly hair, impossibly more wild than usual due to the flight on his broom, poked around the privacy curtains a second before it was joined by a fuming looking Sirius Black.
Potter’s eyes flew to where Remus’ hands were positioned on your head and your stomach lurched at what looked like tears pooling in Potter’s eyes.
“Potter...please, erm, please don’t cry?” You asked awkwardly, leaning away from Remus’ touch as you suddenly became very uncomfortable with this amount of attention.
“She’s alright, Jamie.” Remus sighed, pulling you back over to him gently by the shoulder and continuing his prodding at your wound.
“Who did it?” Sirius spat, arms crossed defensively across his chest and jaw tight as he stared hard at the wound on your head. You were horrified to admit to yourself that he was hot. You’d never really seen it before, how all the girls in your year (and other years) fawned over the long-haired boy.
But he was currently standing in front of you still adorned in his quidditch gear, hair pulled back into a low bun - though he had many fly-aways on account of his recent time in the air - his cheeks still dusted pink from the assertion, and he was currently fuming on your behalf.
Yeah...he was hot.
“Easy.” Remus warned.
“Answer me!” Sirius spat back.
“Pads. I mean it, leave it.” Remus said with finality.
Your eyes darted nervously between the two boys currently staring each other down, but Potter’s eyes were still steadfast on you.
“Let me, Rem.” He finally said gently – the most gently you’d ever heard from the rambunctious boy as he gently moved Remus aside and took over.
��I’m okay, you know.” You offered, not liking how worked up these boys were currently over you.
“I know.” He agreed. “I just hate to see you hurt.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yeah, why.” You pressed. James looked like you just asked him to calculate the distance between the galaxy of Andromeda and our solar system using the measurement of broomsticks.
“I... I don’t want to see you hurt?”
“You want to see Snape hurt.” You countered, causing James’ face to harden.
“Snape’s a tosser.” He muttered darkly.
“I’m not any nicer than Snape.”
“See, Y/N. You’re so smart and lovely and perfect, but you are way off on that front.” James said through a laugh. “Snape is prejudiced, vindictive, and a racist blood supremist. You’re just combative.” He explained, punctuating the word combative with a gentle boop of your nose.
You wanted to break his finger.
But that would be combative, and you would rather die than prove Potter right, so you opted to roll your eyes instead.
“Did they even hang around to see if she fucking survived or did they just take off to avoid detention?” Sirius spat at Remus, not looking any calmer than he did when he arrived.
“They stayed.” You answered tiredly. “They took off afterwards, and not to avoid detention, but to avoid me.”
“And me.” Remus muttered quietly, looking dangerously close to going back out there to find them himself.
“Did you threaten them?” Sirius asked severely, though you weren’t sure who exactly he had asked.
“Yes.” You and Lupin both answered exasperatedly.
Sirius looked between the two of you before letting out a sigh. “Fine, but if I run into them, I’m hexing them into oblivion.”
“Not if I get to them first.” You growled.
Sirius’ face finally softened as he sat on the end of your bed and cautiously touched your ankle under the blankets.
“You sure you’re okay, Y/N?”
And you aren’t sure what did it.
You weren’t sure if it was the softness you saw in Sirius that you were sure you could have never even imagined possible from a person, let alone someone related to the infamous Black family. Or if it was the eyebrows of Remus Lupin that were furrowed in concern as he dutifully watched his boyfriend finish plastering a bandage to your head, or if it was the unbelievable softness of James Potter’s touch – in complete contrast to his fast, rough, bouncing personality that you were usually subjected to.
But dammit, you felt a tear slip down your cheek.
You wiped it away quickly and nodded your head in yes.
You braced yourself for the teasing, the cooing, the dramatic displays of affection. But Sirius quickly stood and disappeared behind the curtains, James began pouring you a glass of water, and Remus reached into his bag for something.
Remus returned to you first, breaking off a square of chocolate for you. “It’ll help.”
You were too embarrassed to argue and took it, popping it into your mouth dutifully.
“Here.” Sirius said as he appeared back at your bedside, handing you a vial.
“What is it?” You asked, your voice taut with emotion.
Sirius’ eyes softened again as he offered you a sad smile. “Calming draught. You can’t have any more pain potion, but this might make you feel better.”
“And if not, maybe you can convince Moony to share more of his chocolate.” James commented with a soft smile.
You grimaced at the taste of the potion and chased it with the water James had poured for you.
“Thank you.” You admitted quietly, shame colouring your tone as you looked to your lap.
“None of that.” Remus said as he handed you another piece of chocolate.
You took it skeptically. “Why do they call you Moony?”
No one said anything for a moment, but you could tell that neither James nor Sirius were moving a muscle as they watched Remus who in turn watched you.
“Because of my lycanthropy.” He said plainly.
You looked at the various scars before you started to laugh. Sirius’ face drained of all colour while James visibly tensed.
“Of course you are. Remus Lupin. Named after a man raised by wolves and the lupus, or wolf constellation. Oh gods, it was predestined, clearly.”
“Are...are you laughing at me right now?” Remus asked incredulously.
“It’s a little funny...no?” You asked back.
He looked as if he were torn between laughing and crying. “I pour my heart out to you – my deepest darkest secret, and you laugh at me?” He asked again, some amusement colouring his features.
“I told you, I’m an arse.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders.
“Does it bother you?” Sirius asked cautiously from the end of your bed, face appearing impassive for all intents and purposes.
“I don’t see why it should, it’s none of my business.”
“It could be.” Remus input.
“You don’t want me. I’m no good, Lupin.” You stressed, looking back down at your hands.
“Neither am I.” Sirius agreed.
“Me neither.” Remus added.
“I’m n-” James started.
“So what if the only one of us worthy of love and affection here is James?” Sirius said, cutting James off. “It’s not going to stop me from cherishing what I can get - deserved or not.”
You groaned and threw your head back onto the pillow, cringing at the effect the fast movement had on you and the pain that the movement elicited in your neck.
“Okay, what about this.” James conciliated. “You don’t have to agree to be with us, just give us a chance? The time of day? One Hogsmeade trip to let us fawn over you.”
You looked up at his deep brown eyes that felt so warm you wanted to make a home in them. Sirius, in all his bravado, looked pained as he waited for an answer, and Remus smiled encouragingly at you.
“Fine!” You acquiesced with a groan. “One Hogsmeade trip.”
Much to your chagrin, though not really at all, it ended up being way more than just one Hogsmeade trip.
Thank you to @unstablereader who gave us the library handholding prompt 🫶
#ask elle#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders x slytherin!reader#james potter x reader#james potter x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#slytherin!reader#ellecdc fics
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🕸 — stay.
pairing. spider-man!jake x fem!reader genre. fluff, slight angst, slightly suggestive?? wc. 2k warnings. for context, this is the #infamous scene in the amazing spiderman 1 when peter shows up hurt at gwens window!! and yes im including the lizard LMAO and jake is kinda down Bad note. THIS TURNED OUT SO LONG.... and also NOT how i wanted but erm well.. spiderman jake is truly all i can think about so i hope you enjoy!!!
You were just finishing up your chemistry homework when Jake leaned against your window frame outside, and lightly knocked against your window. By now, this had become a routine-like thing, so you didn't even flinch.
The first time he did that, though, you felt slightly creeped out before letting him in regardless - because, after all, you do live on the 21st floor. The second time he did that, you started getting used to it. After all, your boyfriend just so turned out to be Spider-man. It was just something you'd get used to sooner rather than later.
Turning around and telling him, “Come in.”, you could already feel your lips form into a smile like that of a little kid's. Jake does as you said and opens the window, slowly climbing inside while you quickly save your homework document in the meantime.
“So, big guy, what was saving New York like today?” you joke before turning around to look at him. Though, once you see Jake holding onto your armchair for stability, your smile fades as quickly as it appeared and you get up when your eyes scan his body - three major scratches across his chest, along with other small wounds across his face (though these are a given by now). But also- scratches? No, it looks more like someone tried to slice him up with.. you don't even know what. Knives? This big? You can only imagine how he got these.
“Different, for sure.” he replies in a joking manner (even though there is no smile), and you can hear just a tiny bit of the pain he must be in in his voice.
“Jake?” you end up whispering as you walk towards him, and he simply lets himself fall onto your armchair before you sit down beside him.
“Seems that reptiles aren't my biggest fans.” he jokes; now smiling as he lets his head fall back while trying to catch his breath. In the meantime, you can't help but scan his wounds up close and - it's safe to say, someone (or something) possibly did try to slice him up from the looks of it.
“Reptiles?” you repeat, the confusion in your voice being very easy to identify; something Jake had already seen coming though, so that is far from surprising.
Before speaking up to elaborate further, he lifts his head again to look at you up close, then explains; “Remember that thing on the bridge yesterday? The thing that was ‘bigger’ than a human.. Well, turns out it's actually some kind of giant, mutant lizard. And it's living in the sewers, apparently.”
“A what?” raising your eyebrows in shock immediately, you can't help but blink in utter confusion a few times - at least before your eyes find their way back to his chest, and some dots start to connect by themselves. Well, his wounds make a little sense now at least. Still, neither of you could deny that ‘giant mutant lizard’ doesn't sound absolutely insane - so naturally, it takes you a second to process and.. imagine what that fight must've looked like just now.
“You're..” you frown; making eye contact with your boyfriend again after breaking it shortly. Jake on the other hand can't seem to even think about taking his eyes off of you. As per usual. “You're telling me you're fighting.. giant lizards?” you simply add. You're also certain that no matter how you would've worded this, it would sound equally just as crazy.
But, well.. your boyfriend IS Spider-man after all. So really, nothing should probably surprise you anymore. If you had to guess, things would, most likely, only get crazier from here on.
“Yeah. Well, they suck.” Jake scoffs, followed by another smile on his face, but he quickly groans in pain right after; your eyes still fixated on his wounds. It’s not like he'll die of them, so you try telling yourself to stop being so dramatic, but still.. it's a sight you'd rather not get too used to.
You hate seeing him like this. Usually, you're pretty used to seeing him with small or at least smaller wounds by now, but this? This is.. low-key crazy. You keep telling yourself that he is literally Spider-man, and that there's.. kinda no way to avoid getting hurt, yet all you hope for is to see him in one piece every single time. And it seems that the longer he keeps doing what he's doing, the chances of seeing him at all keep getting slimmer. Which is something that truly keeps you up at night, easily causing goosebumps all over your body.
“Hey.” Jake quietly says, simply to bring you back to reality once he notices you're lost in thoughts, and the next thing you feel is his hand on your cheek, softly cupping it.
Once you're actually back, you properly reconnect the eye contact you so love with him again. “What is it?” he questions not too long after, barely whispering while trying to read your expression. You, on the other hand, just remain silent; swallowing, before taking a sharp breath.
“Take this off, I'll take care of it.” pretty much avoiding the question, you point to his suit instead (or at least the upper part of it) - since, every time Jake has come here, you took care of him and his injuries. And today was gonna be no different.
While he makes sure the city is okay, you need to make sure he's okay. And vice versa, Jake has to make sure you're okay, by coming back to you every time like promised. New York could be safe for all he wants - only seeing your face every time makes him feel truly safe and sound.
And so again, he does as you say; moving to sit on the floor while leaning against your bed, he watches you do your little magic in silence. Silence, awe, admiration - it's all the same when it comes to you, really. He doesn't even deserve you, Jake thinks to himself. Like he does everyday.
Your ‘little magic’ though, simply includes disinfecting his wounds first; a process the both of you have gotten used to by now.
Once he's rolled down his suit a little, you begin to carefully pat his chest with the tissue again and again, so careful as if he'd break if you made one wrong move. Which.. seems sort of funny. You're patching up the Spider-man after all.
Jake, in the meantime, can't seem to take his eyes off of you again, so he simply doesn't. Instead, he watches your every move like his life depends on it. The look in your eyes has changed. You've gone quiet. Like, awfully quiet.
“Y/N.” he tries again after just a moment - after you clearly avoided his question the first time. When you look up just the tiniest bit, you're immediately met with his eyes on you already in no time. Oh. His eyes. “What is it?” he repeats, hoping to get you to talk this time.
Looking at him, it takes you a few moments to even form a somewhat coherent thought. Sometimes you wish you could just stop time and stay like this. With him, here. Forever.
Sure, being Spider-man's girlfriend had its perks - like Jake taking you with him to swing around New York together. Surely.. an original experience! But it also meant praying he'd come home to you every time there was trouble in the city.
“I'm just scared for you, is all.” you sigh quietly, tilting your head a tiny bit. For just a moment, silence enters, and it feels like you're falling in love with him all over again. You're just glad he's here.
“You won't lose me.” Jake assures you in the softest tone possible and immediately brings his hand back to your cheek, only to bring your face closer to his. Close enough to place a kiss on your lips, a reassuring one. A kiss that, as you both know, says something words wish they could truly encapsulate. Breaking the kiss for a short, simple “I promise.”, he immediately reconnects your lips again like he'd suffocate if he didn't.
What starts as a lovely, reassuring kiss, quickly seems to turn into something much more intimate when you feel Jake rest his other hand on your waist only to pull you as close as possible; to feel your body right against his.
Spider-man might have impressive healing abilities that are above those of the average person, but Jake felt as if having you near him was already enough healing.
“I love you.” he breathes into the kiss, and quickly tries to catch his breath when you do the same for a second. Your faces still dangerously close, all you seem to be able to get out is a “I love you too.” that sounds very out of breath, like you were the one fighting a giant mutant lizard just before.
Bringing your hand up to rest on the side of his neck, Jake can't help but sigh when he backs off a tiny bit, only so he can get a good look at you. God, you're beautiful he thinks to himself. Basically looking at you the same way he did when he first told you he loved you, he automatically moves the few strands of hair out of your face; tucking them behind your ear, while his eyes simply shine with admiration. But mostly love.
“I just love you, Y/N.” your boyfriend repeats while shaking his head slightly, and sounding completely hopeless as if he just accepted that he is, indeed, hopelessly in love with you. Though, that was more or less the case anyway.. it still is, actually. Watching his eyes go back and forth between your eyes and lips, Jake speaks up again in a low voice, “You won't lose me.”. However this time, it's a promise rather than a reassurance.
Your eyes lighting up with pure love at his words and the look in his eyes, you can't seem to hide the way your lips are forming into another tiny smile - so you decide to just let them speak by placing them on his once again.
It's like your lips were perfectly made for each other, especially when Jake tilts his head a tiny bit more to deepen the kiss - his hand still on your neck, and if it were to go after him, he'd never remove it again. It's like you were perfectly made for each other.
“Jake.” you mumble into the kiss, yet keep it going because his lips feel a little too good moving against yours. Although you don't wanna let go, you (sadly) do end up breaking the kiss - which causes Jake to immediately look at you as you're gathering your thoughts one by one.
“I need to ask you a favour. It'll sound really selfish, though.” you begin quietly, only to receive a promising nod from his side, waiting for you to continue curiously while his eyes go back and forth between your eyes and lips again. Swallowing, you carefully ask, “You know I love that you're Spider-man, but can you just be Jake for tonight and stay?” Yeah, you were right about it sounding kinda selfish. Jesus.
But, like, it's true, and you couldn't really figure out a better way to word it. I mean, obviously you love that he's Spider-man - literally who wouldn't? But it's true that you love Jake Sim more. Even if just a tiny bit, which is why you want, - or need, actually - him with you tonight. Just Jake. Just the two of you.
“It doesn't sound selfish.” is the first thing he says in response, slightly shaking his head for further assurance. You're not only glad about it, but you feel your heartbeat increase rapidly when you see yet another smile form on his face, which (thank god), he doesn't even try to hide as it's getting too big. “Actually,” he lightly scoffs, biting on his lip as you watch him do so (it drives you nuts every time).
“I was hoping you'd say that, princess.” is the last thing he says before pulling you in for a kiss much, much more intimate than the ones before.
taglist @tyunni @geombyu @jaeyunverse @yjwfav @sieuneo @beombisou @neos127
#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen fluff#enha fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#jake x reader#jake fluff#jake scenarios#jake sim x reader#jake sim imagines#sim jaeyun x reader#sim jaeyun imagines#enhypen jake x reader#jake sim scenarios
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until I come back alive
summary. in which you come back injured from a particularly unlucky battle, and Astarion realizes his feigned affections for you are not feigned at all.
warnings. angst, fluff, Astarion being bad at feelings
pairing. Astarion x GN!reader
a/n. this is super long omg ALSO TYSM for the love on my previous fic! It was my first post so I didn’t realize more than like two ppl would see it!! Kind of scary but also I can write more astarion so oh well 🙏
“The way they look at you is different from the way they look at us.”
Astarion raises a brow at this, glancing at Karlach who adjusts a log in the campfire paying no heed to the flickering flames brushing against her skin. She smiles to herself, genuinely, and he questions if she’s finally gone mad.
“So have you said the big ‘L’ word yet?” she asks excitedly, turning to him with a big grin. He shifts away from her, the increasing heat radiating off her body but she doesn’t seem to care, too busy staring at him expectantly.
“The what?”
“You know! The ‘L’ word,” she says the last part in a hushed whisper, as if it’d be a sin for anyone else to hear. Occasionally it baffles him how childish she can be, though he’d never voice these concerns out loud considering she could snap his poor body in half if she really wanted.
He also knows that she’s more emotionally capable in how she approaches these relationships (though one could argue it’s just innocence)—in ways he’s lost over the past 200 years. Though, he makes an effort to shove these thoughts to the deepest corners of his brain for the sake of his own sanity.
“If you’re speaking of ‘love,’” He emphasizes it with a strange accent. “No. I have not. Nor have they.”
She appears puzzled. “Why not?”
He sighs irritably, bringing a hand to adjust the cuffs on his hand. “Must everything be put bluntly? So glaringly obvious?”
“You love each other, don’t you?”
At this, he falters, just the slightest before plastering his usual grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Love is a wide spectrum, dear. Tav and I are whatever they want us to be.”
A late night partner would be the most positive thing he could refer you to. A fling, an amusement, or whatever words people described the arrangement between the two of you as, he didn’t care for it. He’d given himself to you, and you to him—-physically, at least, and you’d seem more than content with it. In return, he received protection, which was a sufficient payment in return for his hushed words of affection and kisses. A fair trade, he deemed.
Sure, he could’ve chosen anyone else in the camp. But he’d seen the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him, surely dazed at his flirtatious tendencies. You’d been an easy target. A survival tool.
And yes, maybe he’d played with your innocent feelings, but could you really blame him? He’d given you the nights of your life, for something so simple in return. It was a transaction.
Karlach waves a dismissive hand which brings him back to the present, propping herself on her arm behind her. “Life’s too short for that bullshit. Either you love someone or you don’t.”
“Fortunately for me, I have all of eternity,” he snorts. “Unless I were to suddenly lose the unwanted visitor inside my head and step into the sunlight, I’ll be here to watch the world fall and rise a dozen times over I’m afraid.”
“But they don’t,” Karlach frowns. “Tav doesn’t have eternity.”
He ignores the way his jaw clenches. He’s afraid, he thinks, of losing the freedom he’s just gained.
“Did you call me?”
Both the vampire and tiefling turn to your voice, where you stand blankly with an armful of logs clutched to your waist. Karlach opens her mouth to respond, but Astarion is faster.
“Nothing, darling. Just answering a few curious questions from Karlach here.”
“Oh,” you blink at him, shrugging before setting the logs beside the fireplace. “Well, Gale, Shadowheart, and I are going to the village across the forest tomorrow morning to check on the goblins appearing there recently. Won’t be back till noon so don’t wait up.”
“Don’t worry,” Karlach laughs. “I’ll keep the camp in order while you’re gone. If Astarion tries to bite Lae’zel, though, his fate’s inevitable.”
He rolls his eyes, opting to stand from his spot and take your hand. “Come along, darling. Any longer near this damned fireplace and my skin may melt.”
You nod with a smile, waving at Karlach before you follow him into his tent without a word of protest.
Easy, he thinks. Too easy.
He soon finds himself staring up at you from his place, laying his head on your lap as you read through a few scrolls you found throughout the day. He clicks his tongue and you look down, offering that sickeningly sweet smile again. “What’s wrong?”
“You have the most handsome person in this camp on your bloody lap and you want to read?”
You snicker at this, setting the scroll down beside you. “What do you suggest I do? Worship the very eyelashes on your face?”
“My body deserves much more praise than just the eyelashes.”
“Hm…” you pretend to be in thought. “That mole on your face is very obvious too.”
He gasps, immediately shooting upward as he grabs at his own face. “Tell me you’re lying.”
Your laughter rings throughout the tent, airy as you pull his hand away from his face. “I’m kidding, mostly.”
He stares at you as you recollect yourself, finding himself gazing at you far longer than he’d like to admit. Quickly, he adjusts, fiddling with the hand mirror he always keeps under his pillow as he watches you through it. “Karlach spoke of something ridiculous today. She said you were in love with me.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” he rolls his eyes. “That woman lives in a fairy tale I tell you. How she went through 10 years in Avernus is beyond me.”
There’s slight hesitance in your voice, and if he’d not learned your body language early on in your arrangement, he wouldn’t have even noticed it. “Astarion, have you ever been in love?”
He pauses at this, meeting your eyes head on now. There’s a heavier thickness in the air between the short distance between the two of you, and he immediately gauges what you want him to say. A lie readies itself at the tip of his tongue, his gaze searching yours for whatever fantasy that lives behind them.
Instead, your expression is blank. He finds nothing.
“No.” He’s not sure why he responded honestly, but it’s too late to take it back. “Have you?”
You look to the side. “I’m not sure anymore.”
“Anymore?” He shifts his head when you turn your chin further away, avoiding confrontation. “Has someone captured your impenetrable heart as of late? How intriguing—do tell.”
His teasing tone drops when you don’t smile at his usual antics. He’s not stupid—far from it. He knows you’ve begun to fall for him. It’s an obvious result from the 200 years of instinctive flirting he has tucked away in what remains of his soul, and it’s what he intended. What he needed.
The more enraptured you are, the longer he has protection.
He gently tilts your chin toward him, his fang visible through the grin that stretches across his face. “Tell me, pet, do you love me?”
Your eyes drop to his lips. “Do you want me to?”
A bunny caught in the fangs of a fox. It would be so easy to indulge—to go as far as to make you nothing but a puppet he toys with for his own personal gains. He can sense the way your finger twitches, itching to lace them with his own, and the crueler side of him forces his hand to stay put.
He wordlessly leans toward you, his lips grazing against the side of your neck. You shiver at the touch and he smiles wickedly to himself, drinking in the gasp that escapes you when he tilts your neck to the other side, where he usually drinks.
He doesn’t even have to ask. “Just—be gentle. Please.”
“Of course.” He unhinges his jaw, ready to plunge the knives of his teeth into where the sweet liquid gold rushes to your face, his shoulders finally relaxing when—
“I love you,” you whisper under your breath.
He stops.
Though unsure why, he freezes. Completely and utterly freezes.
“Astarion?”
He pulls away slowly, staring at you for a long moment before offering another smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“You look exhausted, my dear. I think that’s enough for tonight.”
“But you didn’t even feed?”
“I can handle myself, darling, as much as I appreciate your worries,” he stands and holds the flap of the tent open, practically a silent demand for you to leave.
He should be ecstatic. Gleaming with joy from being offered a drop of your blood, but instead, he feels knots forming in his stomach. And the longer he watches you, the worst they seem the get.
Hurt flashes across your face and he ignores the sudden tightness in his chest.
“Okay, well,” you say, stepping out hesitantly. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, my dear.”
And as he lies wide awake in the middle of the night with nothing to accompany him but his own thoughts, he finds that all of them are overruled by his endless need for warmth. Not just anyone’s but the one he’s become accustomed to the past few months. No matter how much he curls up in his bedroll, all he can feel is the chill of his own body.
And he hates it more than he expected.
——
By the time he awakens, you’re long gone.
He’s rather productive. Taking walks, gathering supplies, catching up on his reading, he refuses to sit and lie around as the others await for you and your companions to return from the goblin village.
He even entertains sitting through one of Karlach’s dances, which somehow ends up being more entertaining than he’d imagined. While she didn’t fall flat on her face (which he admittedly looked forward to), it burnt through time regardless.
The peace is broken when he hears footsteps rushing toward the camp. He’s memorized everyone’s intervals when sprinting or pacing, so he’s quick to identify Gale and Shadowheart. He listens keenly for your own footsteps.
There are no third pair of footsteps at all.
Shadowheart stumbles into the camp, in a panic compared to her usual self, as she points toward a spot on the ground and snaps at Gale to put something down.
He only sees when she moves out of the way that this something, is rather someone.
You’re writhing in pain, eyes shut in an unconsciousness that’s surely preferable to what you’re feeling. You’re sweating, groaning in your sleep and everyone is immediately rushing to you.
His face would’ve gone pale, if it weren’t for the fact that he was already as ghostly as a sheet.
“What happened,” Lae’zel demands in place of him, and he opts to mindlessly push Gale to the side, who doesn’t say a word from the expression on Astarion’s face. He doesn’t know what he looks like, but from Gale’s reaction, it’s better he never know.
“Damned poison arrows,” Shadowheart hisses. “I’m completely out of magic for today. I need to make an antidote by hand before their condition gets any worse than it already is.”
Astarion brushes the back of his knuckles against your cheek. The creases between your brows soften for the slightest moment before they’re back again.
Lae’zel and Shadowheart are arguing again—something about how one thing would’ve happened if another thing hadn’t. He’s not even sure what they’re arguing about, but in an instant, rage flickers in his chest.
“Do something!” He snaps, suddenly making the camp go quiet. “Or are you just going to stand there and watch them die?”
He suddenly feels a hand grab his, and his eyes shoot down to see your own. Even in your sleep, you reach out to him. Even in the deepest part of slumber, you search for him. It makes him feel like the shittiest and luckiest person alive, especially as the your hurt expression from last night flashes in his mind.
“Help them,” the words spill out against his will, his tone breaking down into something more desperate. “Do something. For God’s sake, anything.”
In the moment, he doesn’t care about protection. He doesn’t give a shit about any of that because the second he’d seen you in genuine pain, it was all he needed to completely forget about the stupid reasons why he approached you in the first place.
All he cared about was your life.
Everyone glances at one another knowingly, but even Lae’zel doesn’t break the silence. Shadowheart spares him a furrowed glare before rushing to gather the antidote.
You only awake hours later. Certainly during the middle of the night, to the ceiling of a tent that’s certainly not your own. You slowly urge yourself to sit up, a pounding headache ringing in your skull, but your worries about it vanish when you hear his voice.
“Quite the nap, darling.”
You snap around to see him on the other side of the tent, albeit only a few feet away from how crunched it is. Fascinating, he thinks, that even with your disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes, he finds you more beautiful than before. “What happened?”
“You nearly died.”
“…how?”
“Poison,” he’s fiddling with his dagger, refusing to look at you. He can’t. In fear of what he might say. “Caused a reasonable panic too. Seems like our companions have grown more attached to you than anyone’s expected.”
You purse your lips, and he quickly mortifies at the exceeding need to part them with his own. You don’t seem to notice. “You too?”
“I was certainly worried our esteemed leader may kick the bucket earlier than anticipated, yes.”
“No, I mean,” you scrunch your eyes sheepishly, and he thinks it’s adorable. Gods he must be going insane. “Have you…grown attached?”
He raises a brow. “You just woke up from a life threatening experience and that’s what piques your interest?”
Your cheeks turn a shade darker. He wants to touch them. “I just…I was worried all day. About us. I got too distracted and of course, that’s on me, but one of the goblins took advantage and—“
He wants to climb into a coffin, guilt eating away at what remains of his organs. But when you fidget with the ends of his bedroll blanket, he can’t tell if his stomach is churning from shame or something else.
You stop, close your mouth, then open it again. “When I passed out, I was just thinking about how I would hate for us to part like that. I didn’t want last night to be our last moment.”
“No,” he says firmly. “While you’d been asleep, I’ve had quite some time to think, darling. And more time to wallow in my self pity for being stuck with an actual weirdo. I mean, do you hear yourself? Worrying about such a stupid encounter while on your deathbed? You should’ve been cursing me with all the strength you had left if you were going to think about me of all people!”
You smile a bit, and he grits his teeth at the way his throat goes dry. “I’m just glad.”
“For getting poisoned?”
“No,” you roll your eyes. “I’m glad I didn’t scare you off by telling you I loved you. I was afraid we wouldn’t talk like this anymore.”
His body wills him to freeze up again. To push you away, and to force the fantasy that his feelings towards you were nothing but manipulative. That you were nothing but a way to survive to him. But no, he couldn’t stand such cowardice any longer. Not after nearly losing you.
You offer him a pathetic laugh. “I don’t expect you to say it back, nor for you to feel the same way. I just—felt like you needed to know. It doesn’t change anything between us I hope. It just felt wrong to keep it to myself any longer and the way you reacted just made me regret it so much-“
He wraps his palm in front of your mouth, his other hand pulling you closer to his side in an instant. With your faces inches apart, he sighs irritably. “As much as I’d like to keep hearing your voice, I can’t stand its contents any longer I’m afraid.”
He lowers his hand, staring straight at your wide eyes as he narrows his own. “I do. Like you, I mean. A lot more than I’d like to admit, quite frankly.”
You blink as if you’re staring at a miracle.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles with a scoff. “I’ve had these feelings for a while now, I just didn’t wish to face them. When you said that to me yesterday, I just didn’t know how to respond, and for that, I am sorry. But losing you—I’m not sure what I would have done, but it’s certainly not a pretty sight.”
Your eyes soften and he’s certain he can lose himself within them for years. “I’ve never heard you sound so—sincere.”
He raises your knuckles to his lips, keeping them close even as he speaks. “I approached you out of necessity, I’ll admit. But it seems you’ve grown on me in a way I haven’t experienced since I’ve turned into a spawn. What you are to me—it’s difficult to describe.” He pauses. “Sometimes, I can still feel my heart beating with you.”
As your fingers brush against the side of his face, he swears he can feel it again. He almost feels warm, maybe even safe. And he’s sick and tired of denying himself of your embrace when death is around every corner.
You’re soon curled up into his chest, with his chin atop of your head. He’s not sure how much time passes—maybe hours, or even days as he continues to observe your face, committing each and every detail to his memory. And when your breathing steadies, falling into deep slumber, he finally has the courage to whisper the words against your hair.
“I love you.”
#astarion ancunin#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate astarion#bg3 astarion#light angst#angst with a happy ending#fluff#comfort#bg3 x reader#bg3 x tav#astarion
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THE BEAST
⋆ wriothesley + fem!reader
( girl u in jail what did you doooo? /j it's not mentioned you probably stole a fonta idk )
⋆ mdni. heat cycles, knotting, praising, he fucks u hard rip that pussy. pet names: good girl, baby. reposting the fic I'm most proud of.
"you shouldn't be here"
"if you hate me that bad then…"
there's a chuckle resonating through the walls, metal rings around fingerless gloves clicking against the metal railing as the Duke makes his way down the stairs and next to you.
still at your side the man was a couple inches taller than yourself, bringing a slight feeling of nervousness around your body, or perhaps it was a natural response to the 'tiny' crush you had on him.
"your imprisonment is over, you're free to leave this place" Wriothesley mentions, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowing with a hint of scolding in his words to which you only shrug in return.
"i like to help Sigewinne in the infirmary" that wasn't a complete lie, but part of the reason for your continuous presence in such a place was due to the dark haired man currently standing next to you, whose presence was enough to get your knees weak and heart pumping wildly.
"mhm, I don't believe you" he mentions dully, fingers rubbing on the bridge of his nose yet his lips held a small smile on them, "I just wanted you to know I'll be out for a couple of days, a week at max"
"what?" you let out a high pitched sound, even though his erratic schedule wasn't news for anyone around, a week was far longer than any of his other absences.
"don't worry, Clorinde will drop by to check everything is in order" you stiff a huff, if anything, you weren't to admit the prison was the least of your worries.
"take care" was the only thing you managed to say. his hand felt heavy on your shoulder once he replied with a soft "you too"
a day passed and you already felt as if your 'not' lover left for war. the fortress remained the same as well as your usual activities at the infirmary, but the emptiness Wriothesley left alongside the usual meetings for tea and having lunch at the cafeteria started to burden.
but, on the other hand, a sense of pride bloomed in your chest since many of the guards went to find you and ask for advice regarding the fortress, quoting to their own sentences, you were the one his grace trusted the most.
"I am very sorry to bother you miss" one of the man said, "but since the Duke is out and miss Clorinde is still left to come back we decided it will be the best if you knew beforehand" strange rumors started to raise ever since Wriothesley left, some kind of 'beast' was heard from one of the pipes, and even though many guards already searched for clues, nothing was found.
"it's fine" you sighed, "please warn everyone to stay away from that place, at least until this issue gets fixed.
"it will be alright" Sigewinne smiles your way, trying to get your nerves on check while bandaging a man's scratched forearm, a match just took place due to the sudden influx of injured men, luckily no one was in mortal danger, but it was enough to keep you busy until your work hour was over.
but you should have expected that what the guard mentioned earlier was to keep you awake all night, to drag you out of bed and sneak past whoever was on patrol duty that night.
the mentioned zone was clear, no guards or prisoners looking for a challenge with an unknown danger, but especially, no sound besides the occasional water drop hitting a puddle on the floor.
another thing was the cool and smooth metal panels covering the walls, where your fingers slid trying to find any clue, knuckles hitting the material and ear pressed to find any possible hollow area.
and for what it felt like an eternity later, you heard a soft growl from behind the wall, right where your ear was pressed against.
you gasped by consequence, failing to stiff the sound so whatever was on the other side didn't hear you.
apparently, it did, since the growling stopped completely at the same time your back turned to flee and warn anyone nearby, as soon as your foot took a step, a hand covered your mouth and dragged you into some kind of dim lighted room before the door closed right in front of you, it was rough and calloused, and you could've had recognized it in the spot if it weren't because of the fear surrounding your whole body and freezing you in place.
"calm down" a voice rasps in your ear, an incredible mix of emotions running through your body in just a couple of seconds, starting with confusion since you were certain that was Wriothesley 's voice, passing to worry as to why is he in such place and lastly, flustering at the feeling of something poking on your lower back, his arms and chest warm and bare against your body.
"Wriothesley…" you pant once his hand leaves your mouth, "what is going on?"
he exhales heavily, letting you free from his embrace way too quickly for your liking, but allowing your eyes to take in his scar covered chest, drops of sweat dripping down his forehead and dampening the dark fabric of his half buttoned pants, and oh… he was hard. painfully you might add with how his trousers seemed to be about to burst.
"I'm sorry, I should have told you sooner" he starts and you think it should be you apologizing for thinking lewdly of him, "but you have to go"
"what?"
"it's not safe for you to be here" the man grits his teeth, backing up until the back of his knees touch a bed you failed to notice before, sitting on it with no care while his hands are in fists, tight enough to turn his knuckles white.
the threatening growl from man makes you flinch slightly, yet that doesn't stop you from taking a step closer, bared teeth with a single fang peeking from his bottom lip that buries in the lower until a single bead of blood pops up.
"tell me what's going on" you whisper in a slightly demanding tone, your relationship was close enough to mess and joke around, but watching him in this situation, and that he was so hesitant to speak broke your heart.
"i—" he swallows hard when you're close enough to smell your scent, a brief and almost imperceptible hint of arousal clouding his brain and stealing a hiss against his will.
unaware of the situation, thinking Wriothesley is in serious pain, you decide to rest a hand at the top of his shoulder, a friendly motion he often did with you but now, he just wanted to pull you by that hand and kiss you until you ran out of breath.
"I..." he starts again, gently holding your wrist and bringing it up to his mouth, smiling when you shiver visibly, "I go through heats, once every a couple of months"
"oh"
he chuckles, warm and genuine, raising his head to observe your expression, leaving you with shaky knees, his bright blue eyes a tone darker, hair damp and messy, inviting you to thread your fingers on it and kiss him stupid.
"that's why you're not safe here" the Duke whispers, still with his lips against your growing pulse, "I've been dying to rip your clothes off ever since I saw you, now it feels like I'd definitely die if I don't touch you in the next five minutes"
you gasp, surprised and turned on before replying, "make it one" and in the blink of an eye you're kissing him, hard and desperate while your body melts against his, pliantly letting him drag you down and sit you in his strong thigh where you're quick to grinding against, sloppily like the kisses you share.
"fuck" he growls and you moan, allowing his tongue to slip past your mouth while his thumbs press tight on your jaw, opening for a better reach while you can only take it and claw onto his nape.
his knee bucks up in a steady rhythm, one of his hands sneaking below your skirt, all the way up from your bare thighs to your soaked panties, "you're wet, I can smell it"
a pained moan escapes your lips, face burning in embarrassment but the look on his face is rewarding enough, pupils blown out, lips red and puffy letting out breathy exhalations. you barely get enough time to observe him before your eyes shut unconsciously at the feeling of a pair of rough fingers coming in contact with your clit through the flimsy underwear fabric.
"can I… please…?"
"yeah" you gasp, earning a whine from the man right onto your neck where he's nibbling, quickly getting rid of your skirt and half ripping your panties in the process, his pants get undone next, enough to fit his cock between your dripping folds flicking your clit with the engorged cockhead before pressing into your tight cunt.
he's big, bigger than you had imagined during sleepless nights of you touching yourself, but you're incredibly wet and doing your absolute best in taking a fat cock.
"oh fuck…!" you mewl, pressing your chin to the side of his head while Wriothesley continues to bite on your shoulder, careful not to pierce the skin as his hands find place on your hips, busy pushing your body down to take him whole.
"take it" he exhales, "I know you can take it, baby" and you whimper at the praise, thighs shaking from the stretch. his breath is hot against your collarbone, hips rolling forward that causes his cock to rub against the firm spot inside your cunt that leaves you limp, tugging your shirt from above your head so his hands freely get to palm at your tits once he's fully bottomed out, giving you a moment to adjust while he plays with your nipples.
"there we go" Wriothesley pants, hips snapping forward to fuck you deep, clutching onto the back of your head next to press his mouth against yours, bouncing your body up and down his cock in increasing speed.
"shit, shit!" Wriothesley groans, hips stuttering before stopping almost completely in what felt an attempt of self control, his tip coating your insides with immense amounts of precum, making you wonder just how much cum he actually held in those heavy balls that smacked against your ass in loud papping sounds.
"Wrio, you don't have to hold back" you whine through bitten lips, cupping his cheeks between your hands. and the moment where Wriothesley snaps will get forever burnt in your brain, starting from the deep rumbling groan, the twitch of his cock messily ruining your inside with hard precise thrusts, to the sudden movement of your whole body where he pins you down in bed, face down against the pillow with his hand pushing between your shoulder blades, ass up, face down while he successfully mounts you from behind.
his fat cock glides easily past your tight entrance, soaked in slick at the same time his thumb finds a place between your teeth, rubbing on your tongue the tangy taste of your slick.
"stay still" he grunts, dropping his forehead down between your shoulder blades while feeding your pussy the rest of his cock, "you smell so fucking good" Wriothesley is a mess of grunts and hisses, spreading out your ass cheeks to fit in properly inside your tight cunt, loving how the squelching sound comes louder in this position.
"too deep!" you scream, thighs shaking from the forcefully stretch of your walls around his cock.
"it's okay" he slurs, fingers pressing on your forehead to push you head up and kiss your temple, yet his hips continue to piston inside of you, dragging in your body with his on top of the mattress, his knees on each side of your thighs to perfectly fuck into you, driving his tip almost at your cervix with each thrust, "I got you, you're fine"
"Wrio" you sob, "feels so good"
"I know, baby, in know" he chokes out, eyes closed shut while pants escape freely between skin slapping, "you take it so good, my good girl, all mine"
"o-oh!" you whine, "Wrio please, you're so big, oh my god"
"don't say that" he grits, hips stuttering and pushing onto your waist so he gets to reach in much deeper than before, "I'm going to come soon"
"ngh" you moan, toes curling and pussy clenching.
"can I knot you?"
"yes" you reply way too quickly, digging your nails onto the sheets, pillow drenched from sweat and tears, "yes, please"
Wriothesley moans like a wounded animal, fucking you like one too with his hands on your head, pushing you down as if to submit you to him.
you can feel him twitching again, cunt fluttering in sync, clenching and begging to be filled with a scream of your own while you cum all over his cock, gasping loudly when his knot begins to push past your tight entrance.
"W-Wrio—" you sob.
"yes, I'm here, it's alright you can take it" he thumbs your clit, helping you ride out your high while his knot gets snuggled inside your cunt, digging his nails on the skin of your thighs while rutting into you, long and thick spurts of cum coating your walls.
"fuckin' perfect pussy, taking all of my cum" he groans, panting loudly and jerking his hips until every single drop of cum is stuffing your hole.
"are you alright?" he asks once you've calmed down, turning your body around to let you cuddle against his broad chest.
"yeah" you sniffle, overwhelmed.
"I forgot to ask how did you find me" the man grins, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head.
"people heard you growling like a beast" you sniffle again.
"... what?"
and you should have told him earlier, since you were certain now people might think that said beast was just some horny dog.
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