#⏰ . . . on the floor.

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 31

Could Never Stop

Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 7853

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: The Emperor of the Sea sets sail from Karai Bari Island. Can he make it to the banquet in two days? More importantly, can Shanks regain his confidence, and do what needs to be done to save the woman that both of his lovers love?

Let the games begin! 🏹

Author's Note: Thank you for the wait! This month has been extra, but I also spent a ton of time and research writing this one since the game is getting started. I hope you enjoy it! I have soo many plans 🥰😈

There's a yucky Uncle Cedrick scene, but from now on we'll just have to expect that. I will continue to bracket sections if heavier situations come up, but at this point, I hope that Uncle Cuntdick will be his own warning 😬 We are meeting Dr. Vorsan this chapter, and I've bracketed the scene with these symbols ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ so as not to jump scare everyone!

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic currently contains spoilers for up to the end of the Wano arc, and potentially current arc minor details.

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Mental Illness, Grief, Toxic Family, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Relationship Drama, Anal, Uncle Cedrick might just be his own warning, Doctors, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

“Go away, old man,” groaned a frighteningly hungover pirate captain, who was still face down on the floor of his quarters. Sheets with too many smells had already been stripped from his bed, but the night had held too much liquor for him to replace them on his own, so he’d slept on the rug.

“I’d love to,” Benn snorted, rolling Shanks onto his back. “Is my captain done drownin’ his sorrows?”

“Dunno what you mean.” 

He cringed while he pushed himself up to lean against the wall, and couldn’t meet his first mate’s eyes. 

“You’re too kind hearted for this, captain,” the older man sighed. “Why don’t you find a sweet, little barmaid to dote on like a respectable pirate, eh? What about–”

“I don’t want bunnies. I want…” Shanks growled, but his anger fizzled out at the thought of predators and prey.

“Nah. The Great, Red Haired Shanks just wants ungrateful brats that leave him crying on the floor a few times a year.”

The Great, Red Haired Shanks pulled himself to his feet, only to stumble over to an uncorked bottle in the corner, taking a grateful swig when he found it full. 

“Just had too much fun is all,” he laughed, the bitter taste drowning out the sweetness of the wine.

“Well, next time that creepy asshole gives my captain too much fun, I’m gonna make sure it’s him that’s crying, ya hear me?”

“Sure, old man,” Shanks snorted, letting his first mate guide him to the shower, still downing that wine to fight off images of wicked, beautiful eyes. He wondered how long it would take this time for the cruel hint of gold to leave his mind. 

The Great, Red Haired Shanks didn’t need bunnies or hawks. He just needed the sea, his crew, and another fucking bottle. 

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

“It’s been some time since our last session. How have you been feeling, Y/N?”

Dr. Vorsan’s pale eyes always felt sticky. Puddles of too much glue, waiting to capture anything you let slip from your shaky fingers, your trembling lips. 

Breathe.

“I’m feeling well, Doctor,” you lied, keeping your voice soft. “I’m sure you've heard about my recent behavior… I believe the experience has offered me some much needed clarity.”

Everything about this man was pale and watery, and you reminded yourself not to frown at his beige suit. It would have seemed like the doctor wanted to fade into the background, if every boring detail about him hadn’t been so exquisitely tailored.

“That’s good to hear,” he praised, though the emptiness in his voice had you fighting to stay present. “Why don’t you tell me about it. You’re going through a lot of transitions, Y/N. Major life changes, even positive ones, can cause a lot of strain. Have you been feeling strained, Y/N?”

“Mmssorry,” you slurred, fighting your lips that had already frozen, not even five minutes in. 

“You stated that your time with the Cross Guild brought you clarity,” Dr. Vorsan noted. Those sticky eyes seemed to warm while your body left your control, until you couldn’t meet them anymore, couldn’t look higher than his elbows. “By putting yourself in such a dangerous–”

“I wasn’t–” 

You were heavy and loose now, your whispered denial draining the last of your energy. 

“You’re in a safe place, Y/N,” he promised while he pulled a shiny, gold pen from his jacket, propping up a notepad on his knee. “Do you know where you are?”

He asked again, voice so soft, until you nodded in agreement. 

“Good, Y/N. Just take some deep breaths, and we can stop whenever you need to. We’ll help you get clarity, so you can stay well. Do you want to stay well, Y/N?”

“Y-yes, Doctor.”

“Wonderful,” he purred, scratching a note onto the top of his page, the movement of his manicured hands holding your gaze. “Why don’t you tell me about the clown?”

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🗡️🤡🐊~~~

“With Sylvad’s cowardly level of security, I believe this would be too risky to use, but you should take it, in case the opportunity arises.”

“It’s so small,” Shanks hummed, inspecting Mihawk’s earpiece transponder snail, its tiny eyes blinking up at him slowly. “Maybe if I–”

“Save it,” Crocodile ordered, pushing away his untouched meal before closing the ornate shell container in Shanks’ palm, shutting those little eyes away. “Right now, the safest way to save our girl is for you to marry her. Don’t put that at risk by acting suspicious.”  

Shanks stared at the closed shell before tucking it away, looking up to find his old friend winking at him. 

“Don’t fret, love. We can have a belated bachelor party when you return,” Mihawk teased, combing his fingers through that bright, red hair.

“But Buggy—”

“I’m not thrilled about it either,” Crocodile sighed, standing to usher the other man out of the suite, “but it’s our best chance. That’s your mission. We’ll be listening, we have the location, and we can reach out to your crew if we need to share something vital. Can you do this?”

The two men stared each other down again, the swordsman’s hand dropping away to give them space. 

“I’ll bring her back,” Shanks swore again, offering Crocodile his hand. The larger man shook it, but the press of time killed their peaceful moment. 

The Emperor made his way into Adam’s room, waiting for Buggy’s permission to speak, but his clown looked pained, and Shanks couldn’t wait.

“What’s wrong, Bugs?”

Buggy’s hands were cramping from recording the pros and cons of the men that might marry his star. His throat was tired from swallowing nasty fears and guilt at the thought of Y/N actually finding someone she wanted to be with. 

“You’re leaving,” he whispered, letting out a sigh when Shanks nodded. Strong fingers were so gentle as they brushed hair behind his ear, pens not doing enough to hold up all of that blue. 

“I’m gonna fix this, Bugs.”

“She doesn’t believe…”

Though jealousy had turned him into someone he didn’t recognize, now when he saw that look of love in Buggy’s eyes for Y/N, Shanks wanted to burn all the oceans to bring them back together. 

“She loves me, but she thinks it’s over, Shanks. My star’s really looking for someone else.”

“That’s not gon–”

“Make sure it’s you, alright, shithead?”

Buggy pressed his last piece of hope into Shanks’ palm, before letting himself hold and be held by this beautiful man that had been so many things to him over the years. He sank to the floor, allowing soothing kisses to be left along his unraveling hair while slow, exhausted tears escaped him. 

Shanks opened his mouth to comfort, to promise, to share, but Buggy reached for the notepad again, mumbling about her “favorites.” After a rushed, bittersweet kiss, the red headed pirate was on his way, met by his golden eyed lover in the hall.

“Making sure I don’t run off with all your booze,” he tried to smile, feeling the weight of distance already crashing over him. 

“Something like that,” Mihawk teased. “I thought I’d send you off.”

~~~🔴🗡️🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“How was your session with Dr. Vorsan,” Uncle Cedrick taunted, filling the dining room with ice. 

“It went well.”

You’d managed to bring yourself back, to find your body and voice again before dinner, knowing that he’d be waiting to poke at you. 

“Excellent,” he purred, killing your appetite again. “He’ll be staying until the wedding, just in case you need the extra support.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” you hummed, forcing down a bite.

“So polite,” he laughed, touching your moms chin to lift her face up. “See, Delaine. A little time with the doc, and your daughter’s already feeling better. Maybe she’ll even stop asking her mama bird to chew up her food soon.”

“She can stop after the wedding,” you said coldly, not enjoying the cruel laugh he gave at her expense.

“Such a high maintenance bride,” he taunted, towering over you all when he stood from his seat, offering you his arm. “Come on, smarty. Let’s take a walk.”

Kat started to argue for you, but it was a pointless battle, so you left the other Sylvad ladies at the table, letting Uncle Cedrick guide you out to the lavish courtyard. 

“I know you’ve been reviewing the details with Kat, instead of your mother, but I expect you to be prepared tomorrow. You know the rules of the game?”

“The suitors have a month to win me,” you recited while he led you through the tables, dragging you to the beautiful, carved bench where the introductions would be held. “They’re not allowed to fight amongst themselves unless it’s for the game, and they have to leave grudges aside until after someone wins my heart. They’ll all have time with me as a group and in private, and they can woo me however they like, so long as it doesn’t endanger me, or take me off the island.”

The pride in his smile wasn’t for you, but he beamed it at you, nonetheless.

“Since you’ve been doing so well, I’m sure you can remember a few more rules. Think you can handle that, smarty?”

“Yes, Uncle,” you agreed, sending your rage down into the stone beneath you. 

“You need to remember that choice is a fucking luxury, Y/N,” he threatened, brushing the hair back from your face while he leaned too close, his cologne filling your lungs. “After the fiasco you could have caused, and after all these years of abusing my patience, you’re lucky I’m letting you play this little game at all.”

His hateful words were drawn out with lazy pleasure, and he kept his fingers in your hair, stroking you like a pet. Like his pretty doll.

“You’re going to give all of your suitors a fair chance. They’re here to enjoy themselves, so I won’t have you chasing anyone off too soon. You’re going to whittle them down slowly, and carefully, and with my approval. Your final two suitors will be offered a deal, and if they don’t accept it, they won’t get my blessing.”

“So…”

“So, do whatever you need to do to convince the men you like the most to take that deal.”

Nodding so you wouldn’t spit, you seethed when he tugged at your chin the way he’d touched your mother’s earlier. Your eyes were forced to his, and the stars above seemed to burn like acid as your face tilted up toward them. 

“I’ll do anything to protect this family,” Uncle Cedrick vowed as he rubbed his thumb across your snarling lips. “If there’s a man that can offer a better deal, then he’ll get my blessing, no matter your preference. So get ready to use this smart, little mouth of yours, niece. I wonder if you’re a good enough whore to convince anyone to stay? Though I have to confess, after all of your tantrums, I think my spoiled brat of a niece might deserve a man that can put her in her place.”

He laughed at your stifled hatred, wiggling your face before releasing you. 

“Give them all a chance to win you,” Uncle ordered, satisfaction dripping from his parted lips. 

He enjoyed watching you suffer. Enjoyed it in a way that made your skin crawl, but you could never fully hide your rage from him, no matter how skilled you became. He could fucking sniff it out. 

“If I catch you sabotaging any suitor’s feelings for you before I’ve given the approval to drop them, then I’ll make sure you get some extra special time together. It’s only fair.”

All of the acceptance you’d been building up was crashing down around you, and you held in your tears, not wanting to see the pleasure on his face if he tore them from you. 

You wanted to run away.

He found me. He could have had Karai Bari wiped off the fucking map, and Buggy…

“Well, niece, do you understand? Or do I need to—“

“I’ll fuck the one’s I like to make them take your deal,” you growled, almost losing your vision from the rage that was coursing through you. “And I’ll fuck the one’s I hate so you won’t know which piece of shit to trap me with.”

Cedrick Sylvad threw his head back, bellowing his cruel laughter up to the twinkling sky. 

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” he wheezed, before leaving you there with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Don’t stay up too late, niece.”

He didn’t leave you with a guard. There was no need. 

I’ll never get away. These are my choices. Pros and cons.

The silent courtyard felt like a cemetery while you struggled to move, to head off to bed, and end this shitty night. Your fingers found their way to your locket, the touch of warm metal helping to calm your breathing while you stared at all the cold, shining stars above you. 

“At least I have all those pretty daydreams,” you whispered, feeling like an empty doll as you floated off to bed. 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

“Hawk Eyes.”

It had been a couple of years since Mihawk had stepped foot onto the Red Force, but his body had memorized every step toward the captain’s quarters, and they walked there without a thought. 

Until a tall, scowling man blocked his path.

“Good afternoon, Benn. How—“

“How about you get the fuck—“

“Hey now,” Shanks laughed, stepping between his first mate and the swordsman, who’d raised a brow at the threatening tone. “We’re good, Benn! He’s just seeing us off.”

“Well, I’ll see him off a fucking cliff if he makes you—”

Shanks cut him off, pulling Mihawk into his quarters while Benn narrowed his eyes, his arms flexing as he crossed them over his chest. 

“If I make him…” Mihawk asked, focusing on the hint of pink that was blossoming on Shanks’ cheeks. 

Cute.

“Benn, get the crew ready. We’re heading out soon.”

“Aye, captain,” he agreed, still leaning toward the swordsman through the doorway. Benn jerked his head to the side as unruly strands of long, gray hair escaped his tie, getting in the way of his glare. “If you ever make my captain cry again, I’m gonna turn those pretty, gold eyeballs into pretty, gold earrings, ya hear me?”

“Thanks, Benn,” Shanks shoved the man out, locking himself into his quarters with his wicked, old friend whose mouth was hanging wide open. He might have laughed at the sight if he hadn’t wanted to crawl under the floorboards. 

Fuck you, Benn…

“Cry?”

Shanks had watched those lips move. He’d heard that voice speak. 

Yet his mind couldn’t connect that trembling word to the deadly rival before him.

The sweetness that had echoed through Mihawk’s bones with every step beside his lover had curdled again, guilt and shame scraping up his throat, strangling the words he’d hoped to share.

I don’t deserve it. 

“You’re shaking,” the red haired pirate breathed as he reached for one of those dangerous hands. Everything was unsteady. Nothing in this world fit anymore, but Shanks tried to laugh it off. “Is Dracule Mihawk feeling jealous? I never had you pegged for the marriage type.”

“No,” he choked a laugh, brittle and stinging as he sat on the bed. The same, old bed they’d shared countless times. “I’m so sorry, Shanks.”

Those words again.

This “vacation” of his had felt like the most outrageous, delicious dream held hostage by a nightmare, and Shanks felt a sudden terror that he was about to wake up to find it was all gone. 

In case it was about to disappear, Shanks sat beside his vicious, old friend, and pressed a kiss to the man’s temple. Mihawk wrapped his arms around him, clinging, feeding into the unreality of this soft, lovely dream. 

“Are you alright, Hawk,” Shanks breathed.

Instincts would have sent the swordsman out the door by now. Every thought pushed him out, guilt, and fear, and lies, no longer strong enough to outweigh the need to keep holding Shanks against him, to keep inhaling his comforting scent. 

The need to run was fueled by his new piles of shame. An unconscious demand to leave. Leave. Leave. 

“I’m done…”

“What’s that,” Shanks tensed at the whisper. He fought his rising dread, tracing his fingers through that pretty, black hair. As they always had, Mihawk’s hypnotic eyes made his world pause, yet in this moment they seemed like true magic. The swordsman had once been blank, unknowable, giving no depth, though Shanks had reached and delved as far as his old rival would let him.

Now those golden eyes were hypnotizing not for their blankness, but for the swirling depths that pulled him in. Pools of molten metal, pain, and need, and other things Shanks couldn’t think clearly enough to try to understand. 

Mihawk couldn’t understand how this beautiful, glorious man could still stand to look at him, let alone offer him comfort. He almost talked himself out of the room again, but vowed that he was done being a coward. He would fight. He would never run. 

Never again.

“I know I…” Mihawk started, losing his train of thought while he stared at his old friend that could have been something so much more. 

What’s the point of being safe if I can’t even… 

“Hawk?” 

 “I love you. I know it’s too late. I’m sorry, I–mmn!”

All that dread exploded, leaving Shanks absolutely fucking high. None of this could be real, but what a dream. 

“Took you long enough, old friend,” he purred. Mihawk whimpered beneath him, shaking under his touch after Shanks had pushed him onto his back, kissing him as though he’d disappear if he stopped. 

“I’m s-sorry, Sha–”

“Are you lying? Manipulating me?”

He gripped Mihawk’s face, wanting to throw this fear off the ship. Gods, he wanted to believe it, to feel it. 

Mihawk let out a breath, a weak sob, as the gold of his eyes was dressed with diamonds. The monster was even more hypnotizing when he cried.

“I’m not lying,” he confessed. Memories flooded the swordsman now, filling the air around him with regret, and with the hope he was fighting to keep. He reached up, cupping Shanks’ face while he blinked away his salty fear. “You loved a coward, old friend, but I’m done running. I love you. I’m so sor–”

Shanks couldn’t tell if he was laughing, or crying as he fell onto the wicked, intoxicating man beneath him. 

“I love you too, Hawk. I still love you. Could never stop.”

“Shanks…”

“Say it again,” Shanks breathed while he kissed along Mihawk’s throat, dizzy while one of his dearest fantasies played out before him. 

“I love you, Shanks.” Mihawk shivered, clinging, reaching, falling to pieces. Shameful parts of him still screamed to run, still thought so many cruel, ungrateful things, but there was nothing like the satisfied sounds his lover made when he said those words. “I have loved you in my cowardly heart. I’m sorry I– fuck!”

The red haired pirate fisted his hair with vicious force while he rutted his clothed cock against him, chuckling as he watched those hypnotizing eyes flutter with need. 

“Why are you sorry?”

“I…”

Mihawk was already lost in him, and Shanks let that sweetness pour over his body, his breath relaxing as he decided how to take care of his lover. 

“You’re sorry because you didn’t say you love me, right,” he purred, kissing tingles into Mihawk’s skin as he breathed along his temple to his jaw. The swordsman gave a weak nod, and a little whine, so Shanks nibbled at his ear, telling his boy how to please him. 

“I don’t wanna hear another ‘sorry,' you hear me,” he threatened, tracing his thumb along Mihawk’s hip, dipping down into those low riding pants. “You’d better keep telling me what you should have back then.”

“Shanks,” Mihawk moaned, undoing the lacings of his own clothes before clawing at Shanks’, desperate beneath the sway of that crooked smile. “I love you.”

The Emperor of the Sea forgot.

Nothing to do. Nowhere to be. 

Shanks just had to make this man say those words again and again. It had been so fucking long. They touched and kissed every inch of each other in their mad rush to claim every moment before the dream faded away, until the swordsman looked over his shoulder, begging so pretty. So perfect. 

“I need you, daddy,” Mihawk relaxed, ready. “Need you, love you, want… mm, please…”

“I need you too, bright eyes,” Shanks hummed, fingers finding their way in, cool lube easing the stretch while he made his lover moan into the wrinkled sheets. “I need my pretty boy to let me love him. You finally gonna let me, Hawk?” 

“Please,” he begged. The press of Shanks’ cock teasing at him was too much, and he writhed, shoving himself back until he cried out, earning the full force of that powerful body. 

“Look at you. Knew you’d be so good for me, baby.”

His fingers caressed while he pressed that pale skin into the mattress, and Shanks let everything go, praising, taking, and hurting his lover until they both went fucking mad. Mihawk let himself feel safe in the pleasure and the pain.

Safe. 

His lover made him cry, and bleed, and come, before laying his own claim. Shanks’ heavy cock filled him, on and on, leaving Mihawk twitching and whining. There they stayed, breathing, sweating, and whispering those words until they remembered. 

“I’ve gotta go, Hawk... Will you still love me when I come back,” Shanks asked as reality returned, failing to hide all the true fear in his voice.

“My lover gone away to sea. I shall await thee,” Mihawk hummed, moaning when Shanks pulled away, his body still craving his touch. 

“Are you writing love poems already?”

Mihawk could have stayed in that bed for days, but she was there in his mind. Still trembling from love and pleasure, fear followed him while he helped Shanks clean the evidence of their selfish lust, low chuckles still warming the air around them through it all. 

“I’ll write poetry for you, my love,” he breathed, eyes fluttering at the new touches he’d earned. “But you’re right. You need to leave.”

Demands felt wrong, so the swordsman finished drying and dressing his lover, until the Emperor pulled him close, their foreheads pressed together while he tried not to succumb to his own selfish terror. 

“I love you, Hawk Eyes,” Shanks let out one more time, while the memory of empty eyes burned through his soul. Y/N had helped both of his lovers, had helped him find them again, to hold them again, had helped them open up.

I owe her everything.

“I love you too, Red Hair,” Mihawk gave a true smile, shaky though it was. The voice calling for him to run was easily ignored with the gratitude and desperation rolling through him now. “Please–”

“Don’t worry, baby,” Shanks laughed, kissing those lips again before leading his deadly lover off the ship. “If I can win over Dracule Mihawk’s icy heart, then there’s no beast I can’t charm.”

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.” 

Kat managed to pull a laugh from you while servants buzzed around, swarming like bees as you waited in the courtyard for your new life to begin.

Whenever a big tree fell on Sylvad property, it would be easy to cart it away, to sell it into little pieces, but this courtyard was built to show off one of your favorite family traditions.

The last few generations of Sylvad’s had refused to let a fallen tree be scurried away like something to be ashamed of. If a tree fell on a Sylvad estate, it was to be celebrated to honor the hard work and creativity that made your family’s name synonymous with power, wisdom, and enough wealth and status to rival nobility. 

You sat on one of those dead trees, the trunk carved into a formidable, layered bench along the base of the manor, while the lantern lit courtyard stretched out toward the forest. On and on the bench seemed to go, covered with lifelike, and even life size animals trying to spring into your world from the fallen wood.

Childhood memories trampled over you for a moment, just like your little body had once tried to climb and claim this wonder of the forest. The obedient bees brought you back to the present, doing some last minute touch ups to your hair and makeup while they fluffed up your giant gown. 

Asking why you were in a white dress before your wedding day had sent you into rigid silence once the rest of the ensemble was forced onto you.

Don’t bite the help. Don’t bite the help… Do deer bite people?

“I’ll be right over there all night, okay,” Kat’s voice pushed through the mass of bodies. “Make that face if you need me to step in.”

“There’ll be no need for that, ladies,” Uncle scolded, his presence scattering the hovering pests around you. He beamed at your sister while he patted her cheek, before sending her to sit with your sulking mother. Kat gave you a weak smile, leaving you on that extravagant bench while your uncle managed to sit beside you without mussing your dress. 

The music may have been pretty. The lanterns lighting up beneath the golden, darkening sky might have been enchanting. 

It was even possible that one of the men in that crowd of guests breaking through the treeline onto the stone pathway would make a lovely husband. 

You tried to breathe, tapping nervously against the locket you’d stuffed into the corset of your dress since it hadn’t “fit the theme.”

What a feeling it was to finally know that love was real. Yet, such was your fate that you had to keep killing and burying the futile wish that you could have kept it for yourself. 

All of these men are here to own me. Every single one.

“Don’t forget to smile, dear niece,” Uncle taunted, leaning close enough to warm your cheek with his words. He laughed at his little joke, while you tried to obey.

You were the white stag. 

You were his helpless prey, whose sole purpose was to be hunted, mounted, and displayed. Nothing more than a tasty trophy.

The stupid, white antlers in your hair felt heavier with each moment while you watched your hunters stalk ever closer. The men had separated from their guests who were being seated so that everyone could watch your uncle’s little show, while the suitors formed a line.

“If you–”

“You already won, Uncle,” you cut him off, eyes scanning the edge of the forest while more figures appeared. “I’ll be well behaved venison from here on… what the f–”

“Smile.”

No fucking way.

Kat had followed your line of sight, and if your face matched the look on hers, you needed to shake it off now. The last thing you needed to do was offend one of these men that could squash you like a bug.

Sis was right. We should have asked for measurements. 

Swallowing manic laughter at the thought, you split into pieces, becoming the hunted. The truest part of you watched the show from a deep, dark hole within while you smiled at Uncle Cedrick, although your body couldn’t hide the shivers that broke through. 

“Smart girl,” he hummed, curdling your stomach before he pressed your hand into an old man’s wrinkly grip.

Your suitors had arrived.

“Giberson, lovely to see you. Let me introduce you to my niece. She’s—“

“The Cross Guild’s young CFO, if my sources aren’t mistaken? I can’t imagine there’s another Y/N Sylvad gallivanting about.” Giberson caught you off guard, and you were a deer in the headlights when his scratchy, white mustache tickled across your fingers. 

His words had left you frozen, and he released your hand, seeming a little wobbly while he balanced with his jewel encrusted cane. The old man adjusted his pin striped hat, making his tall body seem even lankier in the matching suit.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Uncle Cedrick laughed, clapping the old man on the back. “You probably know more about the competition than I do. So, have you decided to join the game, or will you just be staying for the entertainment?”

This old man is one of the Emperors of the Underworld… 

Giberson’s dossier had been the lightest you’d received, yet somehow that made him more frightening, along with his epithet; The Concealer.

“Hopefully I’ll have more luck at this wedding than I did at the last one I attended. Bodies just don’t recover the same when you get to be my age,” Giberson chuckled as he tapped his knee with his cane a few times. “Still, I may be old, but I can’t resist the offer to join in such a delightful game.”

“Happy hunting, good man. I’m confident that some time in Y/N’s company will put some pep back in your step,” Uncle encouraged, pulling an intricately carved arrow from a quiver at his back, adding to the vision of the dark hunter he exuded tonight. He handed it to you, giving you the illusion of choice.

You’d been told not to stand unless you absolutely had to, so you looked up at him through your lashes. Your painted doe eyes needed no help looking helpless, but you obeyed just the same. Giberson smelled of whiskey when he leaned down to accept the arrow from your grasp, a satisfied smile on those aged lips. 

“Just watch out, little lady. These young boys aren’t done fighting yet,” he stepped back, nodding subtly over his shoulder. “It would be a shame to see such a precious thing get caught up in the crossfire. I’d rather like to avoid that fate myself this time around.”

“Not to worry, Giberson, we’re all here to enjoy a more civilized kind of battle. Although, the betting pools have already added a few extra categories for all the possibilities this month presents.” 

The men ignored you now, but you had to keep your face mildly pleasant while you reminded yourself not to scratch it, so as not to risk fucking up the subtle deer makeup across your nose and cheeks. 

Humiliating.

You were the only animal at the banquet. The only thing on the menu. Everyone else got to be human.

Well, maybe not everyone… 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

“Are these supposed to be this fucking tight? This can’t be right…”

Shanks tugged and pulled at the dove gray pants he’d been gifted by Sylvad’s attendants, his head snapping up at the choked sound coming from his first mate’s throat. 

“What’s wrong?”

Benn had changed quickly, the banquet already getting started when the two of them had stepped foot onto the private island. The older man had lucked out, easily fitting into the borrowed suit that was such a dark blue it was almost black, although he’d rolled up the sleeves, and traded the jacket for his purple cloak. Having some breathing room around his muscular arms made him seem slightly less annoyed since their weapons had to remain on the Red Force. 

Benn was too distracted to care about their weapons at the moment though, wheezing while he watched his mighty captain try to stuff all of his bits into those tiny pants. 

“Did you try the other pairs?” Benn failed to hide his laughter, having to clear his throat and look away.

“They're all the same size– He can’t really expect me to wear this?”

His eyes were wide, unconsciously shaking his head while he gaped at his reflection. 

The tight, gray breeches seemed designed specifically to showcase every curve of his cock and balls. The soft fabric was tucked into black, knee high boots that a certain swordsman would have coveted, but Shanks felt like he was going insane with the urge to light the borrowed clothes on fire. 

“No. I’m not going out there like this,” Shanks resisted.

“You said you’d do anything for her, captain. Don’t you wanna get on the uncle’s good side?” Benn’s laughter vanished while he draped a black cloak over his Captain’s shoulders, fastening the high collar around his throat. His thick fingers trailed down over the frilly, white shirt, checking the small, black vest that was little more than a girdle, before tying off his captain's sleeve. “This bunny of yours worth the tight pants?”

“Emperor Shanks, sir,” came a soft voice beyond the door. “The banquet is underway, is there anything I can assist– Oh I– Oh…”

He forgot what he was about to ask this poor girl when he opened the door, because the look on her face gave him everything he needed.

“You doing alright, darlin,” Shanks purred, touching one of the girl’s bright, red cheeks.

Benn chuckled, pushing through the doorway, and onto the stone path, ordering his captain to hurry it up.

“Y-yes, I am, sir,” she trembled, letting out a giggle when Shanks winked, and the sweet sound brought him back. 

“Good girl. Why don’t you show us where to go?”

~~~

“You always strut, but I can’t remember the last time I saw you strutting like this,” Benn smirked. 

“I can’t help it! These boots have heels.” 

Shanks stuck out his tongue before they passed beyond the denser trees. 

“You have been invited to join the game, Emperor Shanks.” The servant bowed her head while she gestured toward the center of the decorated courtyard. “I’ll lead your guest to his table now, unless you’d rather not accept the offer?”

“Why not,” Shanks beamed at her, though the sight of his competition made him fight not to sway on those uncomfortable heels. 

“Looks like you and your tiny pants might be outmatched, captain,” Benn whispered, patting him on the back before following the pretty girl to a table full of enemies. 

Shanks had barely made it here in time, and felt a twinge of guilt return while the last suitors moved out of the way, but the sight of her stopped the blood in his veins. 

Twilight had crept into dusk, and the dancing light of the lanterns bathed her painted skin, her white dress, and ethereal antlers, seeming to glow from within. Y/N shone like a wounded star, bleeding out her light for all of these monsters to drink. 

“The clothes suit you well, Emperor,” Cedrick purred, making his niece flinch. She hid herself away before Shanks could decipher what he’d seen behind her mesmerizing eyes. 

“I had no idea that fashionable friends could be so generous,” he charmed, stalking closer and closer until he caught her cold hand in his. “Or that I’d have the pleasure of meeting such a gorgeous, little bunny again so soon. Sorry, you're a gorgeous, little doe, aren’t you?”

She stared while he pressed his lips to her knuckles, and he took in every detail, wishing he could just grab her and run.

She’s not wearing Buggy’s locket… 

Before new anxiety could set in, Shanks had to swallow his rage at the sound of that voice. 

“Either would make for a good hunt. The nice Emperor asked you a question, Y/N,” Sylvad taunted, tapping her thigh with a decorative arrow. 

“It’s alright, bunny.” He gave her a crooked smile while she gave him nothing, so he turned to the smirking piece of shit by her side. “From what I’ve gathered, we might get to spend some more time together soon. Do I have that right, new friend?”

“I treat my friends very well, but family is everything,” Cedrick vowed. “There'll be plenty of time to discuss details later, but if you’d like to accept the offer to join this little game, then you may get to enjoy more than just our famous Sylvad hospitality.”

Shanks bought himself some time by letting his eyes rake over her again.

I’m a villain. I’m not here to rescue her.

“How could I resist?”

“Go on,” her uncle beamed with triumph, shoving the arrow into her hand. 

The woman that had captured the hearts of the only two people Shanks had ever truly loved met her Uncle’s cruel gaze before looking back up at the Emperor of the Sea. Her eyes fluttered while she offered him the arrow, keeping her hands close to her face so that he felt her breath on his fingers as pulled the symbolic weapon from her grip.

His lips parted as he became trapped in her eyes again, although that haunting pull had been replaced by a desire so hot, it rivaled the stars. Y/N's bare need felt like a gift from the heavens. 

“Thank you,” he breathed, twirling the arrow in his fingers while he bowed his head at that fallen star, before winking at her captor.

“Happy hunting, Shanks.”

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Giberson had finally stopped gossiping with Uncle Cedrick, so you became the prey again, smiling up at your next suitor.

Suitors.

You couldn’t help glancing toward Kat while her favorite pick stepped up alongside his brothers. 

These men should have been intimidating, and they had been, for a moment.

Yet now, the three princes of the Germa Kingdom were all staring down at you like hungry puppies.

What the fuck?

“Welcome, Ichiji, Niji, Yonji. This is my niece, Y/N. It is an honor to welcome you to our humble estate.”

“The honor is ours,” one of the princes crooned, laying a kiss with almost too much pressure against your knuckles.

Ichiji. The red head is Ichiji. 

Your mind rattled through everything you could recall while his green and blue haired brothers took their turns, their loose shirts and billowing capes moving prettily in the light breeze. 

Somehow the word “prince” had made their blatant lust seem shocking, and you almost laughed at how fucking naive that was. 

They were here to buy you, just like all the rest, and their royal hands lingered on your skin when they accepted their arrows. 

~~~

“There you are, old friend!”

“Cedrick. It’s good to see you.”

“Mr. Iceburg?”

Excitement tore through you, and you almost leapt to your feet so you could hug your dad’s old friend.

Your uncle’s old friend… 

Iceburg, the Mayor of Water 7, and the CEO of Galley-La.

You’d had an embarrassing crush on the man, even before he brought all of those shipbuilding companies under one name seven years ago, creating his own empire. Water 7 was your company’s most powerful, and profitable connection, so you’d spent a lot of your childhood on that watery island while your dad made deals with this handsome entrepreneur. 

He’d always been kind, and funny, and had never ignored or patronized you like so many of the other business contacts dad had made you spend time with. 

“Well, Y/N, don’t you look stunning,” Iceburg hummed, leaning down close to kiss your cheek. It was something he’d done many times, but your skin still flushed with heat as it always had. “I hardly recognized my little numbers girl.”

With your mouth hanging open, you felt like a child come face to face with her dream, only to find that the dream carried a bitter aftertaste. 

But it still looked fucking good. 

Your eyes traveled up and down his tall frame, snagging on the black, leather pants tucked into knee length boots. He had rarely buttoned his shirts all the way before, but now the loose fabric of his rust-colored tunic hung wide open, and you found yourself blinking up at the lovely frame it made around his tanned skin, and dark, blue chest hair.

“Don’t keep our dear friend waiting, Y/N,” Uncle Cedrick urged, tapping your hands with the arrow until you snapped out of your teenage fantasy. 

“May I,” Iceburg asked, his eyebrow raising just a bit while he watched you nod.

He’s here to buy me. He wants to buy his friend’s daughter. Wants to…

His thumb traced over your wrist before he pulled away, the rough touch of a carpenter's hand making you shiver. 

“See ya, girlie,” Iceburg winked, wrecking you for the next hopeful. 

~~~

Luckily the next hopeful didn’t matter, although it felt like you’d just lost a safety net.

“I do apologize,” whined the most ‘boring’ candidate, Mr. Halvens. “I’m afraid I will have to decline. There are certain elements here that I cannot have my name associated with.”

“Not to worry,” Uncle laughed. “You’re welcome to stay for the banquet, although I'd recommend keeping your voice down if you plan to disparage my other guests again.”

The poor man went pale, and you were disgusted with your urge to laugh at his pathetic scrambling when your uncle’s laughter rolled over you first. 

~~~

“Prince Fukaboshi,” you projected, staring up at the massive merman. There was a ring of what looked like a bubble around his waist, and his blue, spotted tail seemed to float just slightly above the ground. 

You had prepared yourself for a merman. 

Not for a fucking giant. 

“I am looking forward to winning your heart, Miss Sylvad,” he charmed, although the effect was strange from almost two stories up. Fukaboshi's regal voice rushed toward you when he leaned down, and you tried to smile under that sharp face, that cloud of light, blue hair. 

The arrow seemed to shrink once his fingers pulled it so carefully from yours, before he joined his guests at the edge of the courtyard. You could still feel the prince's gaze, like a cool weight over your skin.

~~~

How the fuck… 

The fact that the next suitors weren’t even the tallest people you’d met tonight was insane, and you had to fight not to let panicked laughter escape while you were introduced to these two brothers. 

“Thank you so much for coming. This is my niece, Y/N. I know she’s been looking forward to meeting you both, Cracker, and Katakuri.” Uncle Cedrick smiled at the frightening brothers, seeming almost giddy when he handed you their arrows. 

Cracker leaned down first, and he had to be a couple of feet taller than… He also carried a fierce scar on his face, scraping across his right eye. When he grinned, his bright, pink irises seemed to eat you up, a near manic look behind them. 

You couldn’t make sense of his clothes, so you tried not to look at the giant fucking crackers hanging around his belt, or at his light, purple hair that was tied into long buns that seemed to be crackling with fire.

Katakuri was even taller, almost as tall as the merman prince, but he went to a knee to get closer to you. His clothes were all leather with scratches and spikes artfully placed to look even more ready for violence. Pink tattoos kissed along his bare chest and arms, and the color went well with his crimson hair and eyes, but you couldn’t see more of his face below the fur scarf he had wrapped up to the bridge of his nose. 

His eyes were intense, knowing, and the sheer size of him amplified his frightening, but lovely, features. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I hope that our families can join their strengths soon.”

The Charlotte brothers left you breathless while the courtyard buzzed with the sounds of guests enjoying their drinks as they waited for dinner to start, celebrating the thought of you being claimed by one of these lucky suitors. 

~~~

Twilight had crept into dusk, and you let yourself take a breath, knowing that the line must be coming to an end. Everyone in your mom’s book was already here, plus Iceburg, and there couldn’t be too many last minute… 

Shanks?

The Emperor of the Sea stood framed by the growing night, dressed like a wicked horseman on the hunt. He stared at you as though he were surprised to find you there. 

As though this fucking traitor hadn’t broken his promise as soon as Uncle Cedrick had shown up. The image of Shanks leaning close, smiling, and flirting with your uncle at the Cross Guild’s party felt like molten metal through your gut. Then he’d run away. You’d seen him, that stupid, red hair slipping through the crowd, fleeing the vow he’d made to you. 

Liar. Liar. LIAR! 

Somehow you stayed very deep inside yourself after Uncle’s voice made you flinch, even while this filthy leech touched your hand. You couldn’t hear what he was saying while he talked to his new best friend.

You’re just another bitch for my uncle’s money, aren’t you? Disgusting trash.

You almost laughed. Almost let it out.

Uncle Cedrick tapped your thigh with the arrow, and the visceral image of shoving it into one of Shanks' poisonous, “soft,” brown eyes felt intoxicating. 

Pathetic. You’re just like all the rest. The Great Red Haired Shanks is no hero. Just another piece of shit that would betray his love for some berry. 

Rage and nausea battled for more space within you, until your uncle shoved the arrow into your hand, and you remembered.

I can't let Uncle see how much I hate him.  

A wave of desire and power burned through you, and you let yourself feel nothing but need while you offered Shanks that weapon instead of using it against him. It felt as though you were possessed, but you welcomed the chaos of mindless lust, relishing in it when those soft eyes went dark before he finally got the fuck away from you. 

Did he just fucking thank me?

Uncle started to address the crowd, and you knew you should be listening. You tried to be here, to survive. 

Traitor. Liar. Leech. Trash.

Breathing felt impossible. Your corset seemed tighter now, making the hidden locket dig into your skin, reminding you that Buggy was all alone. 

There had never been a chance for you to have true love in your life. Not the cursed heiress of Sylvad’s. Not with your Uncle’s plans.

Your sweet, lovely clown deserved better. 

But Shanks betrayed you both. He'd abandoned Buggy after one conversation with Cedrick Sylvad, just as weak and worthless as your first two "loves." 

Uncle offered you his hand, and you stood without knowing what was next, but all that came next was applause. Happy, little vultures excited for their next meal. 

“Did you hear me,” he hissed at you before shrugging for the crowd. “I think our white stag is feeling a bit skittish, but that's nothing a little chase can't fix. The first hunter to catch her claims the first date!”

Chase?

“Run along now, niece,” Uncle Cedrick smirked, nodding toward the trees. Night had officially fallen as he led you down that stone path, the eyes of all the hunters following your every step toward the darkened forest. “You’ve got a ten minute head start, Y/N. Better decide which arrow you'd rather be pieced with tonight.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

Author's Note: Yes, I dressed Shanks up like Jareth the Goblin King. No, I am not sorry 😅

Who do you think is going to catch our white stag? I'm having so much fun with this game! 🥰🏹 Check out the poll below, or you can just tell me what you think about our lineup! I've been going crazy over it, especially since I try to stick as close to canon possibility as I can for some weird reason, lol.

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak | @djloveyou3000 | @mercymccann | @horse-and-writer97

Part 32

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[neuroprincess]

👄🎇⏰💌🛏️ For Zelda Spellman please ❤️

Here it is, babe ❤️ hope you like it

Quick headcanons NSFW; 

👄 making out headcanon 

Although she greatly appreciates privacy, never misses an opportunity to hold you in her arms, no matter the place or situation. Zelda is a well of confidence and arrogance when having you sit on her lap, caressing all of your sensitive spots that knows by heart, instigating with a bit of dirty talk, but melts completely once your lips come together. The beginning is delicate, almost meticulous, the witch asks for entrance with tongue and deepens the kiss, occasionally sucking and biting lower lip until you're a mess under her touch. Hands skillfully roam your curves, fondling, squeezing and eliciting divine moans that make her wet without even being touched. Occasionally, if gets the chance, she will trail a path of ardent kisses down to the valley of your breasts and there mark them with perfect lipstick stains or/and hickeys, where only you two can see, she can be proud that you are hers in every way.

🎇 orgasm headcanon 

On good days she'll build up to the climax majestically, taking all the time necessary, teasing you to the point where you're literally begging her to make you come. On "bad" days she'll make you beg too, but with provocations that go beyond comprehension, turning you into a hot, quivering, whimpering mess under her. Secretly, the ginger would like to test whether you're a squirt, and if so, well, she'll definitely make you come a few more times just to watch it again, and again, and again…

Now, this woman can be fucking sensitive and take pleasure in simple touches, but takes a while to come and that makes pushing her to the limits fun. Even in that situation, she controls the pace and sounds more like she's giving orders than begging, she'll be livid, her life depending on getting that orgasm. No matter how much she swears and tries to be silent, she has the most sinful moans and a very dirty mouth. Her orgasms are intense and long-lasting, making her shudder, digging nails into your skin and losing control for a few seconds, worth all the effort.

⏰ fave time of day to have sex 

Zelda doesn't have a specific favorite time, with the intense and chaotic routine of all her duties, any moment she can have you is a win. However, nighttime pleases her a little more, perhaps it's the darkness with a romantic air, lit candles and sweet conversations, or the fact that the Spellmans leave her in peace a little more, meaning you're not interrupted… so often. She also likes morning sex, if there is the opportunity, time and energy for it, otherwise it'll be a quickie until Hilda announces breakfast.

💌 sending/receiving nudes headcanon 

Technology isn't something she's adept at or likes to use much, so I assume she doesn't carry a smartphone everywhere. But she owns a camera and dozens of rolls, with a bit of creativity you can easily drive her crazy by scattering Polaroids all over her belongings, be it her handbag, book, wallet, etc. It's something new for her, so much that she finds herself clumsy for the first time in years after letting your first photo fall on the floor in front of the students. Things get more exciting over the course of the day as she finds them one by one. It's a game for the witch and she gets into it headfirst - you'll get a generous reward in the evening and unique Polaroids of her next day.

🛏️ soft sex headcanon 

Elegant fingers rub your back softly, tracing invisible words, deep green eyes stare at you lovingly before leaning in to bring your lips together in a slow, amorous movement. Red waves brush your cheeks, it's soft and fragrant, a delight for all senses. One hand on your waist and the other on neck, in a tug deepening the kiss, gently asking for entrance with tongue, intertwining and exploring your mouth in a gentle dance, you hardly notice that she has undressed you in the meantime. Zelda pulls away and smiles, staring at your body, appreciating every detail, memorizing it with devotion.

"You're the epitome of perfection, darling." she whispers, admiration shining through every word "And you're mine, only mine."

Slowly she teases you, placing herself between your legs and maintaining eye contact at all times. The ginger leans down to place lingering kisses along the length of your neck, brushing her soft lips over the curve before turning to the breasts, velvety tongue wrapping deftly around the nipple, alternating between licking and sucking. Her hips move, thick thigh rubbing against your pussy at the same time as yours rubs against hers. Breaths become heavy, she squeezes your nudity affectionately, leaving love marks and driving a needy rhythm, full of passion and dedication.

It's all too much to handle. A trembling moan escapes your lips and is silenced by another kiss, quick and a little rougher than expected, caressing your temple without slowing down any movements. The atmosphere in the room is intoxicating, the friction becomes erratic, perfumes are mixed, sweat drips down your foreheads and nails dig into your back, announcing imminent orgasm. A sequence of swear words is muttered as she continues to work on you, completely melting as she realizes the effect she is making. Her name chokes in your throat the second you reach climax, a rush of intense pleasure sending you shuddering in her warm arms, barely able to think or even breathe correctly.

"It's okay, sweetie. Yes, yes, you have been so good to me… I'm here." she soothes you, even though barely able to finish the sentences still searching for her own orgasm, which soon arrives with Zelda collapsing against you, smiling proudly, you could swear she has a tear in the corner of an eye "Wow, that was…"

"Different." you add with a deep sigh.

"And interesting." the witch complements and nibbles your earlobe playfully "I liked that. Do you want some more?"

I think that sums up what soft sex with Zelda would be like. Affection, care, compliments, encouraging words and LOTS of kisses while she loves you wholeheartedly.

taglist: @opheliauniverse @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @wastdstime @quailbagutte @taurus-baby-34 @prentiss-theorem @Starbucks-06 @unexpected-character @grandtacoranchnickel @multifandomlesbianic @lovelyy-moonlight @evilaam

Join my taglist here ^^

[vincent-stims]

“Bodies layin' all over the floor and I don't remember how they got there, but I guess I must've killed 'em!”

Eminem - 3 A.M.

🪚 🥩 🔪 | 🍷 ⏰ 🏥 | 🪒 🛁 💊

[pjisskullourful]

𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

⏰Damiano × reader

part 27 [series masterpost]

NSFW🚨 nasty shit, the word nut makes an appearance in a way that has nothing to do with food

° Damiano David/female reader insert ✨ cameos by Victoria De Angelis, Ethan Torchio & Thomas Raggi

wordcount:: 13,492

° wonderfully requested by the wonderful @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic 💋 i’m imagining stained sheets!damiano backstage at a må show with the reader [...] the point is !!time limit!! and damiano says to the reader “you’ve got about four minutes, kitty. either you cum now or you don’t get to at all later,” whilst fingering her. a delicious idea to spend time on! thankyou!!

° [ITA:] cazzo: fuck

° none of the lyrics included belong to me!

Australia may have been the furthest you had ever been from home. You had some vacation days saved up at work, cashing them in to join this part of the world tour. The flight had felt torturously long, but it had been worth it. You and Damiano had taken the touristy photos with koalas, kangaroos and other native animals. You had even gotten some time at the beach, feeling just how warm it could get here.

But it wasn't just about sightseeing and going to vintage clothing stores. Your boyfriend was busy, there were sell-out concerts he had to deliver at.

You had spent an extra stretch of time in bed at your Sydney hotel room, staying asleep while he left for sound check. At dinner last night, you had enjoyed a few too many cocktails with the distinctive name Porn Star Martini. When you didn't have work to worry about the following day, and you had a tour company paying for everything, you found it nearly impossible to not indulge. There were photos of you ruddy-cheeked and pulling down the V-neck of your dress to attest to this. There had even been a part of the night where you had tried to wear Damiano's shirt with him, your heads poking out of the same hole, bodies smushed together.

You were awake by the time he came back to the hotel to collect you. You were dressed and sitting on the floor, in front of a mirror to apply your makeup. You sipped on an iced coffee, getting yourself ready for all the excitement that (still) came from attending a show.

He had been pacing around the room behind you, talking about nothing in particular for a while. Before he paused and seemed to become focused. “I should shower, but should I have a cigarette before or after?”

You scoffed sarcastically. “There's never just one ‘after shower' cigarette with you. You're gonna have a bunch tonight, regardless of when you take a shower.”

“It's part of my artistic process.” He said and you laughed with more sarcasm. “Certainly you're not questioning my artistic process, are you?”

“Oh, most assuredly not. I was just thinking about my artistic process, this makeup doesn't just apply itself. And part of my process is to be given pet bunnies, so many of them.” You said.

He rolled his eyes. “Right, bunnies.”

“Are you questioning my artistic process?” You asked.

“No, no, no.” He said as he crouched down next to you, your eyes meeting in the reflection. “But I do have a question about your process…”

“Mm-hmm, which is?”

His eyes left the mirror, now looking at the side of your face. “At what stage of your process do you get in the shower with me?”

“Alright, I've just powdered on top of my concealer, so… um, never. There is no space in my process for that.” You said, continuing on with your makeup.

“Babe…”

“I’m already doing my makeup, getting it all washed off in the shower now would be such a waste. And I wanna look good for tonight, for you.” You tried to reason with him.

He rested his head on your shoulder, exaggerating disappointment. “But I'm gonna be naked in there.”

“You'll be naked out here, too.” You said. “I know what I'm giving up, and I'm at peace with it.”

He sighed then dropped the dramatic act. “Okay, I don’t understand your decision, but I’ll respect it.” He raised his head, looking at you as he pouted both lips out. You accepted this silent invitation, turning your head so you could kiss him quickly. After this he stood up and you went back to your makeup.

He seemed to get lost in his own thoughts, which slowed him down in the process of removing his clothes. He picked up his phone, tapping at the screen as he pushed his pants down with one hand. You kept your mouth shut against any teasing or sarcastic comments, trying to not become another distraction.

“... should sing that Jet song in the shower, I still don’t think I’ve got the lyrics one hundred percent.” He said of the cover track that was a region-exclusive of the show’s running order.

“That’s a good idea.”

He nodded decisively and looked up to orientate himself toward the suite’s bathroom. “Yep, sound check just for you.”

With the door shut and the water running, his voice didn’t come through very clearly. As you sculpted your eyebrows into the shape you wanted, you couldn’t pick out any of the words he was singing. And you didn’t know the Australian rock song well enough that you could recognise the tempo - you just assumed that he was singing it correctly.

Until he finished in the shower and opened the door, letting you hear each word as he sang it. It was a song you had heard more than once last night, not because he would be performing it tonight. But because Ethan had gotten it stuck in his head.

“Hey mama, this that shit that make you groove, mama…” He wasn’t singing with all of the power his voice box held. “Get up on the floor and move your booty, mama…”

“Still?” You asked, looking over your shoulder to where he was towelling his naked body off. “It’s still stuck in your head?”

He nodded as he kept his spot in the Black Eyed Peas song. “We the blast mast’as…”

The old track had been brought up during dinner last night. A song in the restaurant’s playlist had reminded Ethan of it, but he hadn’t been able to remember its name. Almost everyone sitting around the large table had tried to help him in the task of recalling the title. The easiest place to begin was with the lyrics, but all he could remember was a moment of Fergie singing ‘la-la la-la-la’.

It hadn’t been a quick process of elimination, but eventually the desired result was reached: Hey Mama, it had been a top ten hit.

But not everyone was sure they had heard it. So Ethan went up to the bar, seeing if it could be played soon. When the staff had confirmed it, he thanked and tipped them.

You hadn’t recognised the party song. Victoria knew it and remembered how short Fergie’s skirt had been in the accompanying music video.

There had been some humorous misunderstandings of lyrics. So Ethan had gone back, asking them to play it again, allowing him and a couple of the others to check what they heard against what the online results said.

“I heard it three times last night, what do you expect?” Damiano asked.

The third play had come as your party were preparing to leave the restaurant, the staff doing this of their own volition. One of the team’s assistants, Gianna, had pointed out that this could have been prompted by the fact that tipping wasn’t commonplace in Australia. Ethan providing money with his request may have been a big deal to the staff, prompting them to be more generous with the amount of plays.

Damiano had been sporadically singing snippets of the song to you in the time since the restaurant. But now it seemed that he planned to sing more than just a few lines. And you couldn’t help getting distracted by it. There was a smile on your face as you lowered the small brush, giving more attention to this impromptu, naked show.

He saw you watching and put some more purpose into his movements. This was only a fraction of the energy he would charm the audience with tonight - but it was more than enough to keep you engaged. He had begun smiling, too.

He jumped to be side-on to you, showing you how he matched the swinging of his hips to the next lyric. “...to shake your bum-bum-ah. Come on now, mama.”

You shook your head a little. “I believe that the lyric was actually bam-bam-a.”

“And what the Hell is that?” He asked. “I’m going to sing it my way, which means I’m singing about bum. Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

He wrapped the towel around his waist, tucking a corner down to keep it in place for the time being. With his shoulders, he did a little shimmy as he took some measured steps around the end of the bed, getting closer to you.

“We the blast mast’as…” He sang. He held your eye in the reflection as some exaggerated swinging of his hips accompanied the steps that delivered him to the space behind you. “...blastin’ up the jamm’a.”

He pointed one finger directly down at you and luckily you knew what he wanted, not embarrassing yourself. You sang at about half the volume he had been singing at. “La-la la-la-la.”

He wasn’t entirely still, making you think that the song continued to play in his mind. “I definitely did not learn the verses.” You laughed to yourself as you picked up your powder, ready to set the work you had done on your brows. “But there’s another part I do know…”

You were trying to not give him so much encouragement. You couldn’t stand the thought of being part of the reason for him not running on time for the show. As much as you were entertained by him, you wouldn’t let the priorities get muddled up. You dipped your brush into the powder, your eyes beginning to travel away from him for brief moments.

His dramatic pause ended with him raising both arms above his head. “The pre-chorus.”

He put his hands together, reaching over to the right. At the same time he jutted his left hip even further out to this side. As he started to sing again, he alternated from side-to-side, his movements fast and well-coordinated. From what you could recall of the beat, he was matching it.

“Now y’all know, who we are. Y’all know, we the stars…”

His next energetic movement made you forget about pressing more powder over the dark colours of your brow. He performed a smooth body-roll to the right. At the same time he lowered one of his hands, licking the tips of his fingers. This was then swiped down and across his nipple, keeping the smile firmly on your face.

“How we rockin’ it, girl. Without bodyguards…”

Before he could reach the next chorus, you were working more consistently on your makeup. You noticed him gathering up the bottom of the towel, but you didn’t try to anticipate what he would do next, just picking up your eyeshadow primer instead.

You got the applicator out of the component, but you didn’t have the chance to touch it to your skin. Things got suddenly darker and you felt something soft pressing against your face, thanks to him throwing part of the towel (which was still attached to him) over your head.

“...dance to the drummer.”

“Damiano.” You snapped, automatically looking up. When this didn’t give you much, you started reaching for the white towel. “Goddamnit…”

“What?” He asked, acting at being oblivious. “Is this not part of your process?”

You were aware of the back of your hand brushing against his cock. But you didn’t let this distract you from your goal of getting free of the towel. You yanked the soft fabric away from your face, stripping it from him in the process.

“Can’t you hold your chaos in until I've finished my makeup?” You asked, meeting his eyes in the mirror again. “Then I’ll play and we can fool around to your heart’s content.”

He picked the towel up, slinging it over his shoulder without a shred of modesty. “I don’t really know why you’re bothering, you’re just going to sweat all of that off before the end of the night.”

You scoffed. “That’s very presumptuous of you.”

“Okay, I was actually referring to the temperature.” He said.

“When are you going to learn to believe in the magic of setting spray?” You asked.

“We could see about sweating it off another way, if you would like, babe.” He said, beginning to run his fingers through your hair.

“Oh yeah, that song just seduced me so much.” You said sarcastically, dabbing the primer onto your eyelids one at a time.

The change in his smile was only subtle, but you had seen it enough to recognise it.

“Can we have a little play right now?” He asked. “I’ll let you finish your makeup, I promise. But I’m feeling like maybe some special Daddy-kitten time is part of my process tonight.”

You weren’t entirely surprised by this proposal (maybe you should have been expecting it since his request to get you in the shower). You had been too drunk upon returning to the hotel last night, sex hadn’t been any kind of option.

You tilted your phone to check the time, not letting yourself give in very much yet. “Won’t that make us late? I don’t want to delay everyone else’s night. You act like it’s nothing, but I know it stresses you out when you run behind for stuff as important as this.” He listened to you, not waiting to butt in. “I’m just trying to be responsible and help out future-Damiano.”

“You’re a good girl. But we don’t have to be late. If we don’t do a whole production, we can meet everyone as soon as the car arrives.” He said, still playing with your hair.

You noticed how he neglected to mention any further time allocated to you doing your makeup. But his determination was so compelling, how could you stand up to that? And did you even want to?

“Do you promise that we won’t be late for the car?” You asked, picking up the bottle of setting spray, instead of going for the eyeshadow palette you had already selected.

He continued to gently play with your hair. “I promise you.”

“I need you to promise that we will stop when time runs out. No matter what part we’re up to, it will be over straight away.” You said.

“Of course I promise, one hundred percent.” He said. But he would have looked more serious in this vow if he could get that smile properly off of his face.

“I think I’m going to need to hear you swear to it.” You said, considering his expression in the reflection. You briefly shut your eyes, applying some of the preserving mist over your eyebrows, which had maintained their shape through the towel attack. “Swear on not accidentally fucking your leg up again.”

This ripped the smile off of his lips. His jaw fell open at the mention of his injury the previous year, which had not only been painful, but had messed with some of his work responsibilities for a while.

“You would wish something like that on me again? That’s cold, babygirl.” He said. But his put-on surprise didn’t result in him getting turned off, his eyes remained on his prize.

“I’m not wishing it on you.” You defended. “I just need you to swear on something serious.”

“Okay, I swear it. Can you suck my dick now?”

“Is that what you want?” You asked.

“Uh-huh.” He said, his smile getting wider now. “I figure I should take advantage of the fact that you didn’t get up to the putting on lipstick part of your process.”

You began to turn around, keeping your eyes up and on his face, even though your own face was immediately lined up with his hardening cock. “You can’t just destroy the makeup on my face. Please let me look a bit presentable. We can get feral later tonight.”

“Feral? I’m gonna hold you to that.” He said.

Your eyes left his face and you considered something of a mental catalogue before making first contact with his cock.

You could see that he wasn’t fully hard yet. So you worked at changing that, applying your tongue to the side of his length with long strokes. He let out a deep exhale and you positioned yourself comfortably on your knees, a stance that could be maintained as you were prepared to somewhat lose track of time too.

You let your eyes flutter shut and tilted your head, your tongue getting closer to his balls as you kept moving consistently. You put your hands to his thighs and you could feel him getting tenser against your tongue, the skin getting tighter.

You progressed until your mouth could reach his sac. You swirled your tongue around one of his balls, spreading your saliva even further. You swirled your tongue around the other and his hand returned to your head, appreciatively stroking your hair.

You pulled yourself back as an immediately enticing idea came to your mind. “Were you planning to wear shorts for the show, or…?”

It took him a moment to figure out how to respond, his brow furrowed. “Actually I haven’t properly decided yet. I picked a few different options and they’re at the, uh, venue already. But no, I don’t know for sure which I’ll wear. There is an option with shorts, but I really haven’t made my mind up yet. Why?”

“I’m feeling kinda into the idea of scratching your legs a bit.” You said, running your hands up-and-down his thighs. “Nothing too vicious, just something that would feel good for you.” He had started to smile. “And then you and me would have a sexy secret. Under your pants you would have some little kitty claw marks. It seems hot to me, but you-...”

“No, no, it is hot.” He rushed to tell you. “Do it, and I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

You began to drag your nails up his bare skin, not trying to leave any marks yet, just wanting him to feel what you were prepared to use on him.

With nothing left to say, you wrapped your lips around his head. You slowly ran your fingernails up-and-down his legs. At the same time you moved your lips further down his length. You didn’t hesitate to take in as much of him as possible, rubbing your tongue on his underside as you took him deeper.

You kept your mouth set in place around him, a firm seal that could certainly get tighter. You heard his nonsense sputtering as you deeply inhaled through your nose.

Then you plunged down further, adrenaline pulsing through you as you took his head into your throat. You sucked your cheeks in, earning eager whines from him.

You had definitely stopped thinking about time, now you were just experiencing his pleasure through him. And you were planning how to unlock more of it. You treasured how his fingers stroked through your hair, to the sounds of his increasing moans.

You challenged your gag reflex for just a second. Then you eased yourself back, your nails truly scraping him in their continuous voyage now. You moved them a little faster up-and-down his thighs, copying the tempo you adopted to suck his cock with.

He twitched where he stood, his whimpers starting to coordinate with how you concluded each stroke with him hitting the back of your throat. You worked your lips back-and-forth, making sure he wasn’t far from your throat for long. His shaft was getting slicker, the movements coming so much easier.

You plunged yourself all the way down, getting him nestled into your throat. It contracted as you held him there. But you didn’t back off and you could feel how he throbbed in response. He was so hot and so heavy against your flattened tongue.

“I hope you don’t think that I’m not noticing how you’re trying to rush me.” He said, his fingers twisting around some of your strands of hair.

It was true that you weren’t giving him the kind of prolonged treatment that he may have been expecting. You didn’t typically take him into your throat so soon. You had bypassed the time you would dedicate to working him up.

“But your throat feels too good for me to care about correcting your behaviour.” He added, giving your pride a boost.

You tried to not move too vigorously, bobbing your head just a little, while keeping him mostly in your throat. You gave him some friction and he whimpered, clearly pleased by this small effort.

You held off from giving in to your need to draw a breath for as long as you could manage. But essentially it had to be done, you pulled back until your mouth was empty.

You let your hands still, holding onto his thighs as you gave all of your energy to refilling your lungs. You started to notice the details around you again. Your heart was racing and you recognised that his legs now bore some thin red lines.

“Oh, you’ve got so much drool on your chin now.” He said and you tilted your head back, giving him a better view of your face. You had been aware of the moisture building up on your chin before his comment. “Truly, it looks like it’s about to drip.”

You could have wiped some of it off with the back of your hand, or there was a box of tissues closeby. Instead you licked your lips.

“Oh, you like getting messy for Daddy, huh? You’ve made me all messy too.” He said. He put his hand to the back of your neck, the other wrapping around his wet cock. “I’m already leaking precum.”

On his tip you could see some thick and milky drops of his essence, begging to be used. And you couldn’t ignore it.

You put your mouth to his pink head, giving it a kiss and you were soon feeling the consistency of his cum on your lips. Then you parted them and took just his tip into your mouth. He held his shaft steady as you rubbed your tongue all over the tip, massaging as you cleaned him. The primal taste filled your mouth as you planned a couple of steps ahead how to draw more from him.

His fingers clasped harder on your neck as you continued to work your tongue.

“Babygirl, that’s so good. Clean me up just like that. Clean me up before we-...”

His explicit thought went unshared. The atmosphere in the room instantly changed in response to an authoritative knock on the door. He froze and you promptly yanked your lips off of him, your eyes looking over to the locked door.

“Hey guys, we’ve been trying to call you.” It was Belle’s voice, a member of the touring team. “The car is leaving for the venue in about five minutes. And we kinda need you to be in it. We could organise a second car, but…”

“We’ll be there.” Damiano called back, adopting the composed tone of voice he needed. “She’s just lacing her shoes up now and I wanna roll a smoke for the ride. We’ll meet you at the parking lot door in a few minutes. We won’t miss it, promise.”

“Okay. See you down there.” She sounded convinced.

His hand was still holding tight to the back of your neck, you thought it might keep you from getting to your feet. You grabbed one of the tissues, wiping your chin as you looked at your surroundings. Your thoughts were rushing as you tried to plan at least five steps ahead, trying to figure out how you could quickly get yourself ready.

“Okay, just put me back in your throat real quick.” He instructed and you could feel the subtle pull on your neck. “I’m super close, it’s only gonna take a couple of minutes.”

“What? Damiano, no.” You said firmly.

He let go of your neck, a slightly hurt look coming onto his face. “Really? ‘Cause I can feel how close I am.” You took the chance to stand up, gathering some of your makeup supplies as you went. “I’m sure that all I need is another minute in your throat, then I can nut and we’ll go.” You moved beyond his grasp, rushing over to where you had already packed your handbag. “I’m one hundred percent sure that it’ll take just one minute.”

You shoved your makeup and phone into the bag, swiftly progressing to snatching up the dress you had pre-selected to wear. “You need that minute to put some fucking clothes on.”

“They’re right here, I…” He collected the clothes he had been wearing when out for sound check. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Fuck, yes. I don’t wanna be late.” You said, shoving your feet into a pair of shoes. “I’m not letting that car leave without us.”

“It’s not gonna leave before…” He trailed off with a sigh. As you put a piece of gum in your mouth, you thought you had never been so pleased by the sight of him pulling clothes on. “I can’t believe that you’re really gonna make me put my aching cock and balls into these pants.” He covered his scratched legs with the faded denim. “Rather than just helping your daddy out.”

“You promised.” You said, wiping both your hands, chin, neck and chest with more tissues.

“Yeah, I did, but-”

“And I don’t need to hear your insider's secret about how a five minute warning actually means ten. We will have time later for me to absolutely drain your balls.” You said.

He finished getting dressed, putting shoes on and picking up a jacket. The weather meant that he didn’t need to wear it, instead he carried it in front of himself, disguising the bulge that his boner created in his pants. It was already less noticeable now and you were sure it would be gone by the time you got to the car.

Once in the elevator, you rushed to slather your lips in dark lipstick, hoping this would make you look more put together than you actually were. Then you raked your fingers through your hair, trying to get rid of its dishevelled appearance. You used the mirror mounted on the rear wall to guide you before you caught Damiano watching you in it.

“I’ll make it up to you.” You said.

“I know you will. I’m sorry that I got kinda pushy after your no.” He said, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You turned around but you weren’t entirely distracted by the doors sliding open now that you were at your destination. “I genuinely didn’t notice.”

You shouldered your bag and accepted his offered hand as you left the elevator. He walked with his head tilted slightly down, but no strangers bothered him as he led to the lesser-used exit.

You didn’t know exactly how long it had been since Belle had knocked on your door. But it had felt like it had taken a long time for you to get out of the room.

You were relieved by the sight of the van, with Belle lingering at its side. With two of the side doors remaining open, it didn’t look like it was on the verge of leaving the garage. You didn’t doubt that Damiano had a ‘told you so’ ready to share with you. But you didn’t look at him to give him the chance to say it, just getting into the van to find a seat.

He paused to provide an excuse to Belle. “She forgot to take her phone off silent after her nap, and I left mine in the bathroom. I’m sorry we missed your calls, we weren’t trying to.”

“It’s totally fine.”

You sat down on the right-hand side, leaving room next to Ethan for Damiano. In the row in front of you were Victoria and her girlfriend. You noticed amongst the other occupied seats that Thomas wasn’t present.

As soon as Damiano had sat down, you pushed your handbag into his lap, on top of the ‘just in case’ jacket. “You hold this while I do my eyeshadow.” You pulled out a palette and a brush.

Victoria turned around with a swish of blonde hair. “Are you still doing your makeup, how much did you oversleep?”

“Are you roasting my girlfriend right now?” He asked, protectively putting a hand on your knee.

But you understood where her words were coming from, and they had little to no effect on you. You were distracted by needing to come up with a cover story for you and your boyfriend. “Only ‘cause I’m always roasting myself. I could easily take four hours to do my makeup, and a professional could do the exact same thing on her in about forty minutes.”

“But you need time to break for cups of tea.” He said.

“I would never diss her, that’s my sister.” She said, it wasn’t the first time she had shared this sentiment.

You had looking into the palette’s mirror as an excuse to not make eye contact with the others as you began to deliver your lie. “I got distracted from finishing. We were watching other Black Eyed Peas music videos.”

“You still have that song stuck in your head?” Ethan asked Damiano.

“Yep, and thanks a million for that.” He said sarcastically.

“They have way more songs than I first realised.” Ethan said and you were pleased by how your cover story had given him a tangent that would distract from you entirely. Using your fingertips, you swiped a pink glitter pigment across each eyelid. “I thought they had that one really big era where they were literally everywhere. But they were everywhere for a long time.”

“Yeah, across multiple albums.” Damiano said as you were using a brush to buff out the sparkly pigment.

You heard Thomas’ pained yell before you saw him. The exaggerated shout got louder as he was running closer to the van. It broke up, becoming the word sorry over-and-over.

“I lost my lighter.” He offered the explanation as Belle shepherded him into the vehicle. “I thought it would take five seconds to find. But nope.”

He all but collapsed into an available seat. Belle and another member of the crew took their seats, then the driver was given the instruction to go.

Nobody brought their attention back to what you and Damiano had been doing in your room. You worked quickly to add a darker colour to the outer corner of your eyelid. You noticed that the jacket had shifted from his lap, but looking at the crotch of his pants you saw there was no hint of a suspicious bulge.

“Can I do Ethan’s makeup?” He asked you as the car navigated through Sydney’s traffic.

“Of course you can, darling.” You said.

*** *** ***

“Maybe you don’t actually need all of that time you give yourself to do your makeup. You had to rush it, but I think that you look very pretty, kitty.” Damiano said, coming over to stand with you now that he was free of the hands of people helping him get ready for the concert. He leaned against the same wall as you, focusing entirely on you, as if the rest of the green room (and the excited fans beyond it) didn’t exist. “You look great. I would even go so far as to say that you look delicious.”

You blushed under the intensity of his gaze. He hadn’t warmed up to it, just coming in with very flattering words straight away. It was more than you had been ready for, but it was exactly what you needed to hear. You hadn’t felt brave enough to try applying eyeliner to your upper lid in a moving car (the pauses from traffic definitely weren’t long enough, or predictable enough) and without it you hadn’t been feeling your prettiest. You felt like the look was incomplete, your makeup not bold enough.

But he thought your appearance was worth complimenting, something he wanted to stare at. Maybe doubting yourself had been a waste of time.

“Thank you.” You said, easily sliding your hand into his as you moved in closer. “And you as well: definitely delicious.”

He struck a playful pose at that - pushing his shoulders back and placing a hand daintily under his upturned chin. He pouted his lips a little, there was no denying that he had started to get into character for the stage. It was the lead-up to that part of the night where you had to share your boyfriend with the audience. It always impressed you how he could select which parts of himself to highlight, only bringing his most entertaining side forward.

And the audience was going to love him for it, because you loved him for it. This exaggerated, extroverted version of the man you lived with every day was still so sexy to you. You could feel the freedom as he left his doubts, insecurities and worries behind. The extra cheekiness was entertaining to you for the brief window of time that it existed.

“Serving delicious.” He said. “Look, somebody has to do it.”

You cupped his freshly-shaven cheek. “It must be such a burden.”

“It is.” He said, indulging in this dramatic display for a moment longer. “I’m not gonna lie to you kitty, it’s a big burden.” You laughed together, going back to normal. “Are you gonna have fun tonight, gonna behave yourself?”

You raised your eyebrows. “Are you going to behave yourself?”

“Of course, I will be working. I am a professional.” He said, seeming to be working to keep himself sounding as serious as possible.

Meanwhile, you had begun to smirk. “Yeah, a professional slut. I’ve seen how you work before.”

His eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. This set you off giggling, feeling pleased with yourself.

Then his expression changed - his mouth forming a frown as he narrowed his eyes, going for an intimidating look as he leaned in closer. He stuck his pointer finger into the air between your faces. You had stopped laughing, but you continued to smile.

“You should be careful with what you say to me, babygirl. ‘Cause you’re already due for some of my payback after pulling the plug on that blowjob. Don’t make it worse for yourself.” He said in a lower voice than before.

You didn’t act worried because you didn’t feel it, despite the look in his eyes. You also didn’t feel any need to stop. So you put your lips up to his finger and once they were touching, you blew a raspberry.

You counted it as a victory when he groaned and yanked his finger away. He wore a displeased expression and he chose to wipe the moisture off on your dress.

“A-yo, Damiano.” Thomas called out, putting an instant pause on this stand-off. “You wanna run through the song? Make sure we’ve got it one hundred.”

“Yep.” Damiano yelled back. Before going over to the guitarist, he looked at you, giving you some stern parting words. “This isn’t over.”

He started to walk away and you chipperly sang out after him. “Okay.”

He kept going across the floor of this main room of the backstage area. He went over to the lounges where Thomas was sitting, an acoustic guitar propped in his lap. This was when Damiano started to appear truly professional.

You had no responsibilities to worry about, going over to the table where a generous spread of different foods had been laid out. You picked up a few of the crispy-looking spring rolls before going over to where the duo were practising, sheet music laid out before them. You perched yourself on the armrest of the sofa.

“Brig black boots…” Damiano sang before screwing his face up and Thomas stopped playing for the moment. “Wait, let me do that again.”

He adjusted his hands to their previous hold and played the same notes again. He and Damiano were tapping their toes to the same, unheard tempo - holding the music in their heads better than you could ever hope to.

Damiano waited for the right moment, giving the pre-chorus another try. “Blick black blu-... what?” Thomas patiently stopped playing again and Damiano leaned forward, getting a closer look at the lyrics. “It’s all those buh sounds real close together. I can’t wrap my fucking mouth around it.”

“You’ve got it, man.” Thomas said. “You did it last night, you know you’ll have it tonight.”

Damiano stared at the English words, saying them quietly to himself. “Big black boots, big black boots, big black boots…” He cleared his throat and looked up, trying to sing the words now. “Brick bla-... what?” You eased yourself off of the armrest, scooching in closer to him.

“You could sing that Black Eyed Peas song perfectly the whole drive in here.” Thomas said. “But these are the words that are tripping you up?”

You gently got Damiano’s attention by resting your hand on his knee. “I think the issue is that you’re thinking about the sounds of the original and you’re trying to recreate that when you’re singing. But what you should be singing are each of those words, separately, as their own topic.”

“That sounds right.” He said. “I’ve gotta get the words unmuddled in my mind.”

You picked up the paper. “Let me help. Okay, what are they?”

“Big black boots.” He said, the words not coming naturally as he tried to over enunciate every syllable.

“So, they’re small, right?” You asked, playing dumb.

“No, they’re big.” He corrected.

“Uh-huh, big flip-flop-kinda shoes, aren’t they?” You prompted.

“Boots, it’s a pair of big boots.”

“Oh. What colour were they again?”

“Black.”

“What are they?”

“Big black boots.” He said, he didn’t stumble over any of the words and he was sounding more conversational.

“I was picturing little pink shoes.” Thomas said, his hands poised in position to resume playing the song.

Damiano was smiling as he turned to him. “No, they’re definitely big black boots.”

“Huh, what are they?” You asked and Thomas played a single chord.

“Big black boots.” Damiano said.

Thomas played more chords, it sounded like the part of the song they had been practising earlier. “What are they?”

This time Damiano sang his response. “Big black boots, long brown hair…” He began tapping out the beat on your knee. “She’s so sweet with her-”

“-get-back stare.” Thomas joined in, continuing to play even as he returned to talking. “Keep going?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Damiano said before transitioning faultlessly into the chorus. “Well I could see you home with me…”

As he continued to sing, you followed along on the page. He didn’t stumble nor did he need the page back from you, he was confident in preparing for the stage again. It was a relief to hear and you began to bob your head to the rhythm of Thomas’ guitar. Damiano wasn’t singing with the full power of his voice but you could hear how much more comfortable he sounded.

“Are you gonna be my girl?” He cut the last word off, not giving the note its full moment. “And so on.”

“That sounded great.” You said.

“Yeah, I don’t think we need to run it again.” Thomas said.

“Me either.”

Damiano leaned back against you, his head resting on your chest. You wrapped your arms around him, hugging his body to yours as you enjoyed the sight of a smile on his face. You gave him a kiss on the forehead.

“Thank you, baby.” He said.

“She knows how your mind works, man. Good luck trying to outsmart her.” Thomas said, taking the guitar out of his lap. “But I wouldn’t exactly hold my breath waiting for the day when you outsmart someone.”

Damiano retaliated by kicking his leg out, striking Thomas’ shin with his foot. Thomas stood up, moving out of the range of possible other attacks. But he didn’t immediately walk away.

“Have you considered quitting your job so you can come with us on the road and be his emotional support person?” He asked, you weren’t sure how much he was kidding. “You know how to calm him down and help him prep for a show. He’s always in a better mood when you’re around, which is definitely none of my business.”

“He needs emotional support with how much you guys bully him.” You joked.

Thomas got distracted, looking around at the reliable backstage staff for guidance. “Do I have time for another Red Bull?”

Gianna was there, nodding after she checked her watch. “Yes and there’s plenty of it left.”

They walked away and you just got to enjoy the fact that this cuddle with your boyfriend wasn’t on the verge of ending.

But you couldn’t totally forget about what this room was so close to. “Do you ever worry when you’re sticking the microphone in people’s faces during Kool Kids that they’re gonna say something nasty?” He repositioned how he laid his head so he could look up at you. “Let’s not downplay that your horny rock attracts a horny audience. I’ve seen the kinds of signs that they bring to shows.”

He smiled as he didn’t disagree with you. “Well what could they say? They don’t get more than two seconds.”

“I don’t know. I just know that I won’t be surprised if one night fuck me gets sang, instead of the lyrics.” You said, making him laugh. “It’s the same amount of syllables.”

He gave your knee a pat. “Just ‘cause you can’t control yourself, babygirl.”

You rolled your eyes, a clever comeback failing to come to mind. “Do you want me to throw my bra at you? It could help you with getting into the right headspace for the gig.” You had never thrown items of clothing when attending any kind of concert. But you couldn’t say for sure that you wouldn’t get pulled into that type of fun, especially if the receiving performer played it up as much as Damiano did.

“Because I’ll do it.” You said, showing him how serious you could be.

He sat up so he could turn around and look at you properly. “I want to know what you would say. I’m on stage, I put the microphone in your face and you get two syllables- what are you gonna say?”

You didn’t already have something in mind. And thinking about it now, the answer didn’t immediately come to you. Because if you tried to picture yourself in his scenario all that you felt was intimidated. The nature of his onstage persona was very intimidating, for the duration of an entire concert. The man he embodied for a profession made you feel even more shy than you had at the start of your relationship.

Even the thought of being faced with that version of him was enough to make you blush and you answered him in a quiet voice. “Meow, meow. I would do the entire song as a kitten.”

He raised his eyebrows and laughed a little. “Oh really? And how might that go?”

You paused to look around, checking how close everyone else was. You were the only two sitting on the sofa, it didn’t seem like anyone was in listening distance.

You began your nonsense meow-singing softly. His smile grew and he rhythmically slapped his palm on his knee, providing you with the beat of his song.

You weren’t trying to sing well, your only goal was to sing quietly because you didn’t want anyone around you to hear. Judging by the look on his face, you thought he would probably enjoy it if you got louder. He loved it when you got proud about the fact that you were a kitten (his kitten). But what he loved even more was when you got embarrassed and started to squirm, showing nerves.

You were relieved when he didn’t try to get you into that state of vulnerability right now. You paused to take a breath and he applauded your effort, giving you the sign to stop - all without any of the other people backstage seeming to notice.

“Incredible.” He said. He put his hands on your cheeks so he could pull you in for a kiss. “That was so fucking great. Do you want to go out and do the whole set for me with those amazing meows?”

You gave his shoulder a playful shove. “No chance in Hell.”

“You’re so great. Well, when you’re behaving.” He said.

You could have tried to defend yourself that you only vexed him as a way to motivate him. It was done to inspire his punishments, which you both enjoyed. But this didn’t seem like the right time or place to get into that discussion.

He spoke to fill your silence. “When I go out on stage, I want you to go into my dressing room and stay there for the entire show.”

“What?” You asked, thinking about all of the socialising you were going to miss out on - the people that he worked with were far more interesting than the majority of your co-workers.

“Yep, you’re gonna keep the door shut and work on being the best behaved girl in the world, for as long as I’m gone.” He said, a stern look in his eyes as he stared you down.

You furrowed your brow, wondering how rude this would make you seem to everyone else. You liked when everything felt united among the band, team and travelling loved ones. You didn’t want to contribute to any form of division, that was important to you.

“Why?” You asked.

He leaned in and produced an invisible muzzle with his next sentence. “‘Cause Daddy says so.”

Your defiance was shattered in an instant because his approval was above and beyond more important for you than anything else.

*** *** ***

It was strange being this close to the concert without getting to experience much of it at all.

You had been looking forward to watching from the side of the stage. There was a lot to be seen from that vantage point and you liked comparing the things you noticed to what Damiano saw and remembered.

Instead you only had four unchanging walls to look at (eight if you counted the attached bathroom). The music was loud and powerful enough to rattle some of the fixtures, but it was a muffled listening experience. You needed the setlist taped to the makeup mirror to help you keep track of which song they were up to. You couldn’t distinguish any of the words when he was singing Are You Gonna Be My Girl. You had to trust the audience’s reaction that it had gone perfectly.

With nothing else to do, you mentally chewed over what he had said. While you didn’t agree that stopping the blowjob early was misbehaving (you still held to your reasoning that you had done it for his benefit). You did agree that your overall behaviour could be improved, you wanted to be the best girl for him, always.

After sharing a few messages with Max (you told her that you were certain her future husband lived on this continent), you sat down and got to a task just for Damiano. From his backpack, you had pulled out his tobacco pouch and supply of rolling papers.

One after another you packed and rolled cigarettes for him. Smoking had never turned into a habit for you - you were sooner to forget a cigarette lit for you than finish it. But you had seen Damiano roll so many that you could easily copy his steps. You knew exactly how he liked them, you could work to get them perfect for him.

Even though he wouldn’t be able to smoke any immediately (Australia’s laws were quite strict), it would save him some time. You thought (and hoped) that your unprompted providing of this convenience to help would win you some of his favour. It certainly seemed like the kind of thing a good girl would do.

It had been a little over an hour since he had left you for the stage, when you noticed a closeby speaking voice that distinguished itself from the murmurs of everyone else that had been going on for most of the show. You sat up straighter on the sofa, trying to pick out what Damiano was saying. Everything was underscored by Ethan and Thomas continuing to play, their instruments were still blasting out the outro of Kool Kids.

“-should be done in the bathroom in plenty of time, but give the door a good pounding when it’s about two minutes to the encore.” You could hear what Damiano was saying now, his voice definitely nearer to the other side of the door. “I can make that run back to the stage in less than two minutes, don’t you think?” He laughed and you saw the door-handle begin to move. “Thanks Belle.” 

You were starting to get up as he opened the door, coming into the room unaccompanied. “Hey, is everything alright?”

“Everything’s perfect.” He said, giving you no reason to doubt him. “I just need you to stand here with your back against the door.”

You completed the action without thinking to question it. You were too distracted by taking in the sight of him - alive with unpredictable energy, sweaty and without the shirt he had been wearing to begin the concert. You were expecting him to promptly disappear into the bathroom, taking some seconds of privacy before going back to give his all for the last two songs. You couldn’t think of any other reason why he would have needed to come in here.

But he wasn’t going for that door. He picked up one of the provided towels to dab himself down as he faced you, not grabbing for a drink or anything else laid out for his convenience.

“Everyone sang the right words for Kool Kids?” You asked, eyebrows raising as he brought his knees down to the floor. “Nobody got cheeky?”

“The only cheeky one is you.” He said and he flicked up the skirt of your dress, keeping it raised with one hand.

“What are you doing?” You asked, surprised but not about to resist something so enticing.

“I’m going to see how good you can be at keeping to a time limit when it’s your pleasure at risk of interruption.” He said and he moved the crotch of your underwear to the side, just exposing your cunt instead of going to the bother of taking the lingerie down.

Your heart was racing now and you had forgotten to keep track of whether Thomas’ guitar solo was still going or not. “What?”

He dragged his fingers up your labia, his eyes switching between looking at your face and your cunt. “Yep, you’ve got about six minutes, kitty.” You moved your thighs apart as he continued to rub you, his hand delivering more pressure than you were used to in this early stage of teasing. “So, either you come right now, before Belle knocks on that door because they need me for the encore. Or you don’t get to come at all later.”

“Cazzo…” It was all that you could manage to say, because you knew that you didn’t want to tell him no. You didn’t know much else, your mind was in such a scramble as you struggled to catch up to him on this completely unexpected page.

He knew how to interpret your lack of no. And he adjusted his hand, poising his fingers then swiftly ramming them inside of you. Two at once - you couldn’t help squeezing your eyes shut, surrendering before you had been prepared to. He didn’t wait to start working his fingers within you and you tensely bit into your bottom lip, determined that no one would hear.

He attached his mouth to your clitoris and the pleasure rushed you like a wave, infusing adrenaline into your system. You grabbed for his short blonde hair, trying to help brace yourself. You may not have been ready for this, but there was no denying how spectacular it felt.

He was rushing you, as you had been accused of doing. But maybe it wasn’t rushing for him. It was sexy to think that he may have had this on his mind for some of the show. Had he been building this up as he sang for the audience? The way he had been acting since coming into the room seemed to support this theory, he simply couldn’t hold it back any longer.

You started to experience powerful twitches through your body as he curled his fingers between your walls. He was aiming for your sweet spot while his tongue tirelessly lapped at your clitoris, playing with all of the sensitivities here.

“Daddy…” You choked out, ready to lose yourself completely. “This can’t be payback. Because payback is a bitch, but this feels too damn good.”

His strong and confident thrusting came in at a relentless page. Your heart was thundering in your ears, making it next to impossible to notice anything else.

You hadn’t been trying to keep track of the time. But you were sure that you would hit that climax before he was whisked away. You weren’t worried about it not happening. With this aggressive campaign against your composure, your worry lie in disappointing him by coming too fast.

His lips left your clitoral hood in the interest of speaking, but there were still some strokes from his tongue to savour. “Did you get all worked up when you were sucking me off, toy? Did it make you wet? Did servicing me make you want to come?”

He wasn’t projecting his voice very much, willing to keep the secret the same as you. Underscoring his words were the sounds of your heavy breathing and the wet excitement from your pussy as it accepted his fingers deep with each stroke.

He pushed his tongue against your clit before posing his next question. “Maybe you had been wishing that we were sixty-nine-ing so that you could enjoy my mouth as I was enjoying yours?”

The obvious answer that he wanted wasn’t clear in your dizzyingly aroused mind. So you just tried your best to please him. “We can, we can sixty-nine all fuckin’ night. I would love to do that for you, Master.”

“Mm-hmm.” He hummed against the hood of your clit, making your throat momentarily clench. “I bet you fuckin’ would.”

He plunged his fingers all the way into you and your knees felt like they were turning to useless jelly. This feeling only accelerated when he placed his other index finger to your clit. You fought back the cry that wanted to erupt out of your chest in response.

The way he manipulated the hood was driving you wild. It was bordering on more than you could handle as he sought out a new way to tease you with his lips on your thighs. He kissed and sucked both of your inner-thighs, alternating between them with unfailing vigour. 

His fingers pressing into your g-spot again-and-again was bringing the pleasure to a brilliant height. With it so ready to overwhelm you, it was easily blocking out your awareness of time passing. It felt like your entire body was reeling, keeping you from thinking or caring about anything. Maintaining the schedule of the gig wasn’t your responsibility right now, anyway.

He grabbed some of your thigh fat with his teeth then clenched his jaw. This made you squeak - he still had exciting surprises in store for you. You clasped a hand over your lips, now that you were so close to falling apart you truly didn’t trust yourself to keep quiet.

“Are you gonna come, babygirl?” He asked before he nipped and bit at your other thigh. “I don’t know if you’ve got much time left.”

“Mm-hmm.” You whined into the palm of your hand. “Close.”

“Aw, keen little kitten can’t wait to come, huh?”

You nodded, helplessly breathless as he kept biting all over your thigh.

Your excitement for the release drove you to start moving your hips. It was wonderful the way that every needy pump intensified his massage of your clitoris.

“You’re gonna write lines for me once I go.” He said. “You’ve got a pad and paper in your bag, right?” You nodded. “Good, that’s going to help you learn this lesson. You’re going to write it is my job to make Daddy cum. And you’re going to write it as many times as you can while I’m finishing the show. I will decide when we get back to the hotel if you’ve written enough or if you need to do more, okay?”

“Mm-hmm.” You whined, unwilling to open your mouth for even a second. You feared all of the loud noises that could escape if you did.

Your muscles all clenched and you gave an unintentional jerk into him. To the feeling of him dragging his teeth down your inner-thigh, you felt your orgasm dawning on you. You gave yourself over to the release at once.

He continued to stroke his fingers between your spasming walls, keeping you at this incredible height. The relief flooded through you as you grabbed his shoulder.

“Yes, that’s a good girl. You came nice and fast for me. I guess I won’t just be edging you until the sun comes up, huh?” He said, making you smile. He took his fingers out of you and ceased playing with your throbbing clit. “I think you’ve left me with enough time to give my hands a proper wash. Wow, great work.”

Not needing any time to recover like you, he immediately got up and went to the bathroom. You remained pressed to the door, not because he had told you to, but because you needed it to support you. You lowered yourself a little, your knees still unsteady.

“Holy fuck, Damiano.” You gasped, struggling to know how you would come down from this. You would need the two songs of the encore to remember how to act normally. “That was so much.”

He was wearing a smug smile as he came out of the bathroom. “But was it too much?”

“A bit.” You said, willing strength back into your legs.

“Do you remember what lines I want you to write?” He asked.

You readjusted your underwear and skirt. “Uh-huh. It is my-”

“Two minutes.” Belle’s voice accompanied her powerful knocks on the door. “Time to start running, my friend.”

He was immediately alerted, striding over and grabbing you by the biceps. He gave you a kiss as he moved you out of the way of the door. “See you in a second, love you.”

“I love you too.” You responded at once.

But you couldn’t be sure that he had heard it. Because as you spoke he had opened the door, letting the impatient roar of the audience come through louder. He disappeared in a flash, the door swinging shut behind him.

You loved the idea of lying down on the sofa and feeling the effects of your orgasm fade out to the sounds of I Wanna Be Your Slave.

But you resisted and kept yourself upright once you were on the lounge. You collected your handbag, unzipping it as you finally caught your breath. The little notebook that you kept on hand was in its usual pocket and you found a pen amongst the other items inside.

You started to write, feeling less frazzled with each line. You listened to this muffled version of The Loneliest, keeping your pen constantly moving.

*** *** ***

You were alone inside the hotel room for the moment. You covered more of the white pages in the sentence you had been told, without distraction while Damiano was out on the balcony. He was further winding down after the show with one of the cigarettes you had made for him.

But it wasn’t time to fade out of this day. This night was just starting and you didn’t know what he had planned for these free hours, just that it wasn’t going to include sleep for a while.

You set your intention for the hours ahead with every word that you wrote. It is my job to make Daddy cum. He had sent you straight to the desk as soon as you had gotten back to the suite, not giving you any time to change your clothes. While he had promptly stripped out of the sweaty outfit he had been wearing for hours, you were still in your dress, still in the underwear that he had made very wet.

You didn’t look up when you heard the door sliding open, you remained facing the wall. You gained the scent of his cigarette as he walked nearer. You heard the thud of him dropping his phone onto the sofa.

“It is still so warm out there. It’s the middle of the night and not even a single goosebump. It’s so great.” He said. “If we lived here I could just be naked all of the time.”

“Well that’s all the convincing I need.” You said, making him laugh.

He stood behind you, his hands going to the chair’s backrest as he leaned down. The temptation to look at him was strong, but you obediently kept writing. Rather than simply reading over your shoulder, he rested his chin on the top of your head.

“How are those lines coming along?” He asked.

-my job to make Daddy cum, you finished off another sentence. “I’ve done lots for you, would you like to see?”

“Yeah, let me see if you need to write more or not.” He said.

You flicked back to the page you had started on, then passed it over. He thanked you as he straightened up. It seemed like a good sign that this exercise was over when he asked you to sit with him at the bed.

But you weren’t to sit on the mattress with him. You sat on the floor by his feet, silently watching as he checked over your work. It wasn’t as simple as him flicking through the quantity of pages, he looked at every single one. You wondered if he was looking for errors, words scribbled over.

As he seemingly read, you let your eyes wander, checking his legs for signs of your scratches. You could pick out a couple of long lines that were red, it didn’t look like you had broken through any deeper than the top layer of skin. There were some shorter red lines that you had managed to leave behind too, scattered across the expanse of his thighs. They weren’t placed in a uniform way, testifying to the frenetic energy he brought out of you.

You compared these to the revenge he had inflicted on your thighs. The inside of each thigh was splotchy, not as bright as it had been in the immediate aftermath. But the random pink patches (each of them about half the size of your fist) that could be seen hinted that you could be wearing this damage for a while longer. His bites might leave you with bruising and you looked forward to repeatedly viewing them.

“It looks like you’ve learnt your lesson.” He said as his eyes moved down the final page, which you had gotten about three-quarters full.

You looked up at him, nodding, no longer feeling the need to express your conditions to challenge his rule. “I have.”

“I know that you were just trying to be responsible, and that’s a really great trait to have.” He said. “I don’t need you to change. But for right now I think you should make something else your responsibility…”

“Cock?”

“Cock, that’s right.” He said.

You changed how you were sitting, coming up a little higher as you moved onto your knees. “Do you want my mouth again? I can finish what I started.”

He caressed your cheek, the notebook now placed aside so all of his attention could go to you. “I’m sure that would be really fun, but what I feel like is fucking.”

“How would you like me, Master?” You asked.

“First things first: get naked for me.” He said and instantly you grabbed for the hem of your dress. “Then how about you take a seat on the edge of the bed?”

He stood up, keeping his eyes on you as you made quick work of finally getting out of your clothes. You left them on the floor, then sat in the same spot he had been occupying.

You parted your knees as he placed himself directly in front of you. In the light cast by the lamp, his eyes moved all over your body, paying attention to some features more than others. With your heart-rate keenly picking up speed, you realised that the only enraptured crowd you needed was right before you. His honest admiration didn’t leave you wanting more and it made you feel as special as if he was a stadium of cheering fans.

He leaned down, one of his hands going into your hair at the same time. His fingers dragged across your scalp as his lips got so close to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, and the next second, that very-welcome first kiss happened. There was no hint of haste, you could melt into this as there was a lovely absence of needing to be anywhere else, or to do anything else.

With no orders to keep your hands to yourself, you placed your arms around his neck. As you sought to deepen the embrace in this way, he started to ease his tongue into your mouth. Seeking synergy, it felt like you could leave the rest of the world behind.

He dragged his tongue along the roof of your mouth, but he didn’t let this become his entire focus, drawing his tongue back towards himself before too long. He sucked on your lower lip before moving on from your lips.

You kept your eyes closed as he kissed his way down, his lips treating your chin and then neck. Your thoughts were getting quieter, less significant, until the only thing you cared about was submitting.

His hands were firm on your back as he pressed one kiss after another down the length of your neck. He wasn’t seeking to leave marks this time, appreciating across your bare skin without a hint of teeth. You ran your fingers through his hair, which was back to being soft to the touch.

The lower that he kissed, the more he eased his body weight into you and you started to recline. But you kept your arms around his neck, refusing to allow too much distance to come between your bodies - you were getting to be too needy to let that happen.

His hands discovered your sides next, stroking up-and-down with his fingers following your natural curves. Your eagerness had seen your nipples getting firmer, extremely ready for his mouth as he kept kissing his way lower. He used the tip of his tongue to draw a circle around your nipple before closing his mouth around it. Your gut clenched and you dragged your nails across his scalp.

When he transferred his mouth to the other nipple, he treated it to a suck. You couldn’t help whining, that irresistible heat spreading further under your skin.

“I don’t get to have you as an after-work treat often enough.” He said, keeping the pressure on your nipple with his fingers as he spoke. “Have I mentioned how much I love having you come on the tour?”

“I think you have said it, but you could show me how much you love it.” You said, keeping any bossiness out of your tone.

“Oh, I’m going to.” He said.

His mouth got occupied with your nipple again. More of his body weight eased into you, guiding you down until your back reached the mattress. He was on top of you partially, but you wanted more, the desires building higher as his tongue manipulated the stiff peak of your nipple.

He put his hands under your elevated knees and your thighs were spread even further apart. He moved in to fill this space, his hip bones pressing into the cushioning of your upper-thighs. He got close enough that you could feel how hard his cock had become as it rested against you. But he didn’t make any moves toward penetration, just rubbing himself on you as his lips kept playing with your nipple.

You grinded against him, unable to conjure any patience within yourself. He sucked hard on the nipple and you felt the excited aching in your cunt, so eager to be acted on.

“If you have any doubts about how much I love it- this kind of obsessed with it love…” He said, his shaft getting wetter on your labia majora. “I’m gonna fuck those doubts right out of your head.”

“Right now?” You asked, gripping the back of his neck hard enough for the nails to press in.

“Uh-huh.”

You tilted your hips, expecting penetration. But this continued to not happen, just more grinding that you knew could not get you the relief that you needed. Inside you, the tension coiled and it was impossible to think of anything but this need. There was nothing you could mentally reach for that could help you calm down.

You knew that he would disapprove of you trying to fill your cunt of your own accord. And you were trying to prove to him that you didn’t need any further punishing tonight. So you just moaned through the continuing of this activity that was starting to feel as taunting as it was pleasurable.

He transferred his mouth to your other nipple and you felt the nerve-endings giddy response to his manipulations. It earned a louder wordless plea from you.

This sound extended out when you felt your pussy lips finally being pushed apart by the head of his cock. Your heart leapt into your throat, you were so thrilled to be progressing to the point of feeling your cunt filled.

His mouth remained on your nipple as he started to settle inside of you. He kept massaging his tongue against it, providing a distraction as you adjusted to the new way he was lying on top of you.

He parted from the sensitive bud when the need for air got too great. He gasped and straightened up, his concentration going to fitting more of himself into you. Your cunt had started to throb, all of the pressure in your body needing somewhere to go.

“What’s your job?” He asked, measured rocking of his hips allowing him to gently move in deeper.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, steadying yourself so you could meet his gaze. “Making Daddy come.”

“And that’s exactly what you’re gonna do, right?” He asked.

“Fuck yes.” You immediately replied.

He got about three-quarters of his length into you, but didn’t instantly follow through with the remaining inches. Instead he started to experiment with the current depth, stroking his bare cock inside of you.

He moved himself back-and-forth, establishing a maintainable tempo. You joined him as soon as you could, matching him without trying to rush ahead of him. Your excitement being acted upon was an improvement that you thought could help with your patience. It was enough to just feel yourself building towards the orgasm.

His consistency led him into moving quicker and you stuck with him, unbothered by your recovery time lessening. You were rewarded with accelerating sensitivities, tingles carried out through more of your body.

The increase of his pacing had you gripping the bed-sheets, a tremble in your hands as your breath got quicker. His eyes rushed up-and-down your body, gaining inspiration for his hips swinging - while unable to land on one definite point of interest.

He plunged in the deepest yet, with his next pound forward accompanied by him leaning down. His lips met yours as you rubbed your body against him, celebrating this proximity. You wrapped your arms around him, your hands grasping in a greedy manner.

He worked at this new angle and the pressure it brought to your clitoris made you want to melt. Waves of pleasure surged through the sensitive hood, reaching down into your receptive core. This made your walls respond to his stroking more, the fluttering getting to be constant, and more powerful.

“Squeeze it just like that.” He coached. “Squeeze it on me like you were squeezing my fingers earlier.”

You drew in a breath and made a conscious effort to clench. At the same time your legs gripped his hips tighter. You tensed around him, feeling something truly big still swelling in the deepest part of you.

“Yes.” He told you in a strained voice as he began to jackhammer faster into you. “Yes. Does that make you feel like coming?”

“Yes.” You said with a choked sob, as sticking with his pacing started to take more effort.

“Not yet.” He warned. “Daddy gets to come first, okay? That’s what’s fair.”

“Uh-huh.”

He surged that final amount of his shaft into you, his hips crashing against your body. He barely pulled back before pounding forward again.

This signalled him moving into a faster and more reckless tempo. No time was given to recovering and you could feel the tension inside you starting to fray. How much longer could you fight back getting totally overwhelmed?

He was powering through to his climax, the textured walls of your cunt starting to get coated. He was ready to unload into you. He rested his face in the curve of your neck, kissing between gasps for air.

It was a challenge to keep up with his jackhammering, your body writhing in response to his recklessness.

“Fuck, kitty.” He whined, his hips stuttering to keep him buried the whole way in.

As you were poised on that edge, he plummeted off of it. He was shivering through his climax, pressed into you as his cum unleashed. You held him, not expecting much activity right now.

As his energy stalled momentarily, you stopped the conscious effort of clenching your pussy to him. But that didn’t mean your inner-walls stopped fluttering or otherwise reacting to his continuing penetration. There were still so many sensitivities housed in this area, so you bided your time until they could return to centre stage.

You held your arms around him. Even though you desired nothing more than to make use of the electricity pumping through your system, you bullied yourself into not moving. He was to set the lead, so you just listened to the way he was steadily catching his breath.

“That’s how a good girl does her job.” He said, allowing you to see his face again as he lifted his head.

You licked your lips, expecting an imminent kiss. But he moved too far away, suddenly deciding to stand up again.

His cock remained hugged by your pussy, sliding in deeper as he planted his feet on the ground. You watched him resuming this position as your whole body ached for release. You wondered how he would give it to you, the need sat on your chest like an almost-real weight.

He picked up one of your legs again, his other hand going to your hip. It was a measured and steady plunge that he made into your pussy. He didn’t rush into any kind of pace, instead concentrating on long strokes that could deliver him to your sweet spot.

“I gotta make sure that cum is in nice and deep.” He said. His movements were coming in more consistently now, establishing a thorough but unhurried tempo.

“Uh-huh.” You were still mostly breathless as you responded. Your heart racing and your nerves remaining so tense because that dominating hunger kept you from settling.

He started to raise your leg up higher, lifting until it could be draped over his shoulder. This provided him with an extra ease of movement, his cock gliding to new angles in your slicked cunt. But it didn’t inspire him to go faster, instead he remained fixated on stroking his entire length back-and-forth.

His slow motions were giving you time to recover, which wasn’t what you had been hoping for. The cooling down of intensity was leading you to thinking, coherent thoughts starting to form, even though you deemed them to be unnecessary.

It occurred to you that the orgasm was further away than it had felt before (reality would start to creep back in, demanding acknowledgement soon). You kept moving with him, even though these swings of your hips didn’t seem to be getting you closer to your orgasm, you were still enjoying the sensations allowed to you. This felt better than lying still would - you were certain of this.

Not wanting the fire to be dulled any further, you tried to increase your own speed. You didn’t care to match him as you pulled your hips back. Regardless of how he was moving, you quickly jolted yourself forward, claiming a brief glimpse of the friction you desired.

He maintained control over his movements - either he didn’t notice your rhythm, or he was entirely uninterested in it. He stayed at his own speed, enjoying the thorough follow-through of each stroke.

You worked yourself up to a tempo that felt better than what he was currently providing you with. You arched your back as your needy pumps came in consistently.

You didn’t need him to match you to get you back up to that energising peak of sensitivities. But you couldn’t ignore how the collisions weren’t hitting as deep as you needed. Even as you worked in promising motions, you knew that something essential was missing.

“Daddy.” You whined, letting him hear how desperate you were. “You said that you wouldn’t have to edge me all fucking night. Wasn’t that the deal?”

He paused, going entirely motionless as if he needed a moment to consider this. “Oh, I wasn’t trying to edge you. I was just taking a little extra time to enjoy your pussy.” You could have cussed him out, slapping a hand over your eyes. “Are you ready to come? I didn’t know, you’re actually being so subtle.”

You let the frustration dominate you for a moment. More swears came to mind as you curled your hands into fists around sections of the bed-sheet.

You tried to decipher what he wanted from what he had said. You put your last ounces of logic into the effort.

“Please. Please let me come.” You said, locking eyes with him as you resumed your earlier speed. “Please Master, please, please!”

It got more exciting when he began to match your rhythm. As he met each of your energetic fucks, you were finally treated to those sensations that rocked you down to the core of your being. You strengthened your actions as you tightly wrapped a leg around his waist. This may have been more control than what he wanted to hand over, so you made sure to keep begging.

You didn’t have to hold anything back as you recklessly chased that climax. You went totally wild, rocking with all of your power because you were unbothered by the possibility of being exhausted in the aftermath of this.

“Yes, give it to me just like that, please. Please.” Your voice got louder as you could feel the orgasm coming back within reach. “Please give it to me.”

Your leg slipped from his shoulder as he rocked forward, more of his body covering yours. He grabbed fistfuls of the bed-sheet to help brace himself through the last moments of frenzied pounding.

When your climax finally arrived, it was so vastly different to what you had experienced in the dressing room. Immediately you handed your entire body over to it, crying out as your cunt spasmed through the accomplishment.

Suddenly it got even hotter between your receptive walls. To the sounds of his moans competing with yours, his cock unloaded into you for the second time.

“Oh, my perfect toy…” He gasped, releasing the sheet so he could caress your sides.

You fell out of the tempo quickly, making a fast transition from dazzled to devastated. With absolutely nothing else to give, you started to lower your body down to the mattress. It felt like sleep wasn’t too far off.

After pulling out, he gave you some more kisses, none of them lingering as they had earlier tonight. Then he climbed off of you, seeking his own comfortable spot on the mattress.

“There’s another continent we’ve stained some sheets in. We can tick it off the list.” He joked.

»»————-　♡　————-««  

🍑  taglist: @floral-recs - @gr8rainbowpunk -   @idyllicbutterfly - @maneskindiva - @maneslut - @saschenkaaa   -   @slavicgoddess13 - @elvirabelle - @maneskintifoso     - @thegeminisgirl     - @ha-la-ansia - @butkutee   - @ursulalurks - @itsmaneskinbitch -   @icarodamiano -   @crwnnjules - @paralianeyes - @fand0mskullfa1ry -   @lizzylynch1 - @kammerstx - @myleftsock - @tellmesomething01   -    @adoredamianos - @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic - @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis - @shinshans - @lonnybunnys - @lyricalliz - @lifeofa-fangirl [join here!]

[tourdion]

help!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

still got 11 more viewings booked but here are the places weve applied to so far:

1.

pros: cheap!!!!!!!!! near the area i like, bike storage, shared garden? top floor

cons: not incredible looking but fine

supermarkets: 20 min walk

university: 40 min walk 25-30 mins bus

available 14/9

2.

pros: v v v nice inside, medium price, 2 bathrooms, lots of space, top floor

cons: carpeted bathrooms, area (v residential, not many shops)

supermarkets: within 20 min walk?

university: 40 min walk 20 min bus

available 4/10

3.

pros: 2 bathrooms, dishwasher, little garden, bike storage, nearish the area i like

cons: v expensive, kind of isolated feeling residential area, ground floor

supermarkets: 10 min walk

university: 30 min walk 25 min bus

available 16/9

4.

pros: medium/decent price, most ideal area, decent inside

cons: i havent seen this one, the other (hopefully soon to be) flatmate didnt take pictures

university: 35 min walk 20 min bus

supermarkets: across the road

available: 8/10

[a-narcissists-warren]

*She happily skipped into the room, placing her little nightlight lantern on the floor in front of Afonso, turning it on.*

“1 h34rd m0th5 1ik3 l4mp5!” ^_^

-⏰🪦

ohh that's weird,,, not like that- the sun is awesome but. why is up if,,,, i'm looking down.

[M!A 6/10]

[lovelivecat]

Helllllo! This is my fic for @emptycauldron ‘s prompt game. I chose number 5: “you look pale- well paler than usual”

I added this gif and don’t know how to get rid of it 😭

The day had been completely normal. Students where going in and out of class, and to and from meals. Friends where hanging out in the hallways and chatting about basic things like they’re day, or the weather.

And that was exactly what Ominus and Sebastian where doing. The two best friend stood in the library chatting amongst themselves.

“When Sharp looked at me, I thought he was about to set me on fire!”

“Maybe if you hadn’t been talking you would have used the right ingredient. And then your potion wouldn’t have exploded all over the ceiling.”

Sebastian’s huffed in defeat as he crossed his arms across his chest.

“You aren’t very good at potions either Ominus.”

“At least mine has never exploded.”

The blond smirked. Even though he couldn’t see it, he knew his friend was sporting a very satisfying frown. It was common for Ominus to win there silly arguments but it still felt nice.

There was a ringing sound indicating the start of the next period.

“Shit! Ominus we need to go! Hecats going to have my head if I’m late again!”

Sebastian started running out of the room with his friend right behind him, both with looks of panic on their faces.

They where almost there when Ominus needed to stop for air. Sebastian nodded to his friend and then kept running. Right as Ominus was about to keep going he heard a familiar voice.

“Leave him alone!”

It was you. He walked towards the sound of your voice with his wand outstretched. His wand told him you where standing in front of a first year who was lying on the floor, blocking him from three other girls who had backed him into a corner.

“Oh ya? Well what are you going to do about it?”

The girl that Ominus now recognized as Violet Mcdowll had started to draw her wand.

“What’s going on here?”

Ominus voice echoed through the hall.

“You wouldn’t want Headmaster Black to hear about this would you? I’m not sure he’d be very happy about it.”

Violet grimaced as she tucked her wand away. Before leaving she grabbed one of your shoulders and pulled you closer so she could whisper into your ear.Her grip was tight as she spoke

“You will regret this. Your blind friend cant save you forever.”

She let go with a little shove. And walked away with her two friends following close behind.

After they had made it out of the hallway Ominus stepped forward, grabbed your wrist and started running towards class. The two of you got a mouthful from Hecat for your late arrival, but got off with a warning due to your normally perfect record.Sebastian however, was not so lucky. He had gotten two days of detention.

⏰ —————————————————— ⏰

Ominus and Sebastian where standing outside of the library together that afternoon. Sebastian was serving his detention with Madam Skribner, and Ominus was seeing him off.

“This is so unfair. How come you didn’t get detention?”

“Maybe because this was only the first time I was late and not the fifth.”

“It’s still not fair!”

Sebastian huffed and then turned towards the door that lead into the Library. He raised his hand to open the door but paused before he grabbed the handle. He swiveled around and dropped his hand, his face scrunched up in thought.

“Does y/n have a birthday soon?”

The question had caught Ominus off guard. Where had that come from? When Ominus didn’t answer Sebastian continued

“I thought it wasn’t for a few months but I heard some girls talking about surprising her earlier.”

A thought creeped into the back of the blinds mind. One he couldn’t get to go away, no matter how hard he tried.

“Who where the girls who heard talking?”

There was a hint of urgency in his voice that Sebastian picked up on.

“I didn’t recognize two of them but I’m pretty sure Violet Mcdowll was one of them. I didn’t know those two where friends? Violets not exactly a nice person.”

Ominus felt the blood drain from his face. He had heard her warning earlier in the hall, the one she whispered to you. Could this be related?

“Are you ok? You look pale- well paler than usual.”

“We need to find y/n. Where does she normally go after class?”

Ominus was starting to panic now.

“Dude calm down. Why are you so worried?”

“Where is she?”

Sebastian was startled by his friends sudden change in demeanor. It took him a second to respond but he eventually came up with something.

“I think she heads back to the common room.”

“Come on.”

Ominus tugged the brunette by the wrist and pulled him along as he ran to the dungeons. The whole way there Sebastian was yelling questions at his friend.

“Why are we running? What’s wrong?”

Ominus only stopped once they had reached the entrance to the common room. Just as he was about to enter he heard a thump and giggling.

He let go of his friend and raced towards the sound. After turning a few corners he finally found the source. His wand began to dictate the sene for him.

Violet and her friends where playing a fun game of levioso, Decendo, and Depulso with your limp body. Your head was bleeding in certain spots where you had hit the wall the hardest and your body was covered in bruises. There was A bump on your torso where one of your ribs was broken. Another one of your ribs was sticking clean out of your body at a weird angle. One of your legs seemed to have been snapped in half and your wand was lying on the floor, far out of your reach.

Ominus’s stomach churned at the *sight* (you know what I mean) and Sebastian almost vomited.One of the girls cast Levioso on you again but before she could cast another spell Sebastian cast “Expleliarmus” causing the girls wand to fly out of her hand and sent it clattering to the floor.

Before anyone could react Ominus cast “Accio” on your dangling body sending you gliding over to him. He gently released the spell and guide your body to the floor, sitting on the floor he placed you in his lap.

The amount of worry built up inside of him was immeasurable. He was glad he didn’t have to see your blood stained robes and crooked white bones. Sebastian glanced over to you, as soon as he saw you where save he assumed a battle stance and was prepared to kill the person who had done this to you.

Most people would be scared if they where facing three opponent alone but Sebastian was not most people. He had faced of against more than three in crossed wands and with the anger coursing through him right now he could take on a troll.

He started casting an array of offensive spells at three trio of girls. Violet and one of the others successfully blocked the attack but the third got hit square in the chest with a “bombarda”. He continued to duel the remaining two, taking his time to prolong they’re suffering.

It had only been a few minutes but Sebastian already had them on the ground. Even though they where already defeated he continued to berate them with spell after spell. He wanted them to feel the same pain they had inflicted on you. He wanted them to writhe in agony. He wanted to remove their bones from their bodies. And he would have done just that if he hadn’t been stoped.

“Sebastian! That’s enough!”

The brunette was snapped out of his trance. He turned around and saw you laying limp in Ominus lap. You had spilled a lot of blood onto his friends robes and your breaths where short and shallow.

“We need to get her to the hospital wing!”

“She can’t aparate like this!”

“Fine. Follow me, I know a short cut!”

Sebastian ran past his friend looking behind to make sure he was following before sprinting around corners.

Ominus had re-cast “levioso” on you so they could move faster. He was also worried that the movement while running would only make your injuries worse.

Sebastian’s short cut payed off because they got there a lot faster than the would have. Nurse Blainly sprung into action at the sight of you.

“What in Merlins name happened!?”

The boys quickly explained while you where set up on a bed.

They wanted to stay by your side but Nurse Blainly ushered them out of the room and into the hall she assured them she would call for them as soon as they where allowed.

In the meantime they where going to spend some “Quality time” with Violet and her friends.

Thank you for reading ❤️

[megidonitram]

Everyone's Running From Something

(ch. 6)

A Baldur's Gate 3 University Professor AU

Rating: M

Quick Summary: Astarion and Gale are two University English professors precariously mentoring a troubled 19-year-old and falling in love.

💖Main Pairing : BloodWeave,(Astarion/Gale) 💕Side Pairings: Shadowheart/Nocturne, Karlach/Dammon, Wyll/The Dark Urge, Tav/Tav 💔Past Pairings: Gale/Mystra, Astarion/Sebastian, Astarion/Tav

<=Previous Chapter | Master List | Ao3 | Next Chapter =>

**Please see Master List Entry for Full Content Warnings**

⏰Chapter Warning⏰

none

Gale stepped into the administration office on the second floor to find a severe woman with slicked-back auburn hair typing away furiously at her computer. Her attention immediately snapped to Gale when the door swung shut.

“May I help you?” She sounded pleasant enough, but Gale couldn’t shake the feeling that he was annoying her.

“Yes, I, uh, I’ve locked myself out of my office, I was told to come find…” Gale looked back down at his phone for the name “Mizora?”

The woman smiled like she had scented blood and rested her chin on her hand. “Speaking.”

“Oh, excellent. Can you help me then?”

“Hmm, I don’t know…” she slammed one of her desk drawers open and pulled out a ledger. “Name and office number?”

“Um… Gale Dekarios, office B126.”

Mizora gave him a dubious look as she flipped rather leisurely through the yellowed pages of her ledger. “Hmm… That name doesn’t sound familiar. What subject do you teach exactly?”

“English?”

Mizora nodded, skimming down a line of office numbers with her finger. “…B1 is the English office block, but I can’t say I recognize you.”

“Well, I just started this semester…”

"Likely story." Mizora looked up from her sheet with narrowed eyes. “I’ll need your faculty ID card.”

“I’m, uh, afraid that’s with my office keys…” Gale admitted sheepishly. He held up his briefcase. “I’ve still got a few syllabi with my name on them, that should prove-“

“As an employee of Balduran University, you are required to keep employee identification on you at all times.” She snapped. “I have to assume all other forms of ID are fabrications.”

“I clearly didn’t mean to leave it in my office.” Gale let out an exasperated sigh. “What if you came with me, and I showed you my ID once you left me in my office?”

Mizora put a hand over her chest as Gale had just said something absolutely precious. “Dr. Dekarios… If that is your real name-“

“It is.”

“We’ll see.” Mizora flicked her wrist dismissively. “But if you are who you say you are, then surely you understand the particular faculty member you're sharing a space with is… shall we say, rather prone to turbulent romantic entanglements.” Her eyes shined with strange glee. “Surely you understand that I can’t just let a stranger into his office- That could be incredibly improper.”

Gale flushed an indignant shade of red. His heart jittered with some strange emotion. He didn’t much appreciate hearing these kinds of things about Astarion behind his back- it felt indecent. “I don’t know what you’re trying to accuse me of exactly, but I assure you we are just coworkers.”

“Not that it’s stopped him before… but you’re right, I suspect you’re not much of his type.” Mizora looked him up and down with appraising eyes that made Gale feel wholly undressed. “… You seem a bit old.”

A strange pit formed in Gale’s stomach, something like shame. “I don’t see how any of this is appropriate or relevant to the matter at hand.” He huffed. “Can’t you just-”

The office door swung open, and a young man with neatly laid braids cautiously stepped into the room, a manilla folder in one hand and a coffee cup carrier in the other. Mizora’s demeanor somehow got even more foul at the sight of him- a feat Gale wouldn't think her capable of if he didn't see it happen.

The young man glanced over at Gale. “Am I interrupting?”

“Oh, no-”

“Well, you’ve already barged in, Wyll. You might as well get it over with.” Mizora snapped.

He held out the manila folder, and Gale spied a sticky note stuck to the top of it that said, ‘Distribute to ALL liberal arts department chairs.’ “Dr. Silverwarden just wanted me to drop off the schedule for the athletics study hall-”

Mizora curled her nose like Wyll had offered her a dead squirrel. “Oh, is that harlot making students do her busy work for her now? Had a baby, and now she’s too good to walk to another building?”

“I was just- I offered-” Wyll opened his mouth to stammer out an answer, but Gale stepped in between the two of them before he could chicken out.

“That’s hardly an appropriate tone to take with a student.”

Mizora’s eyes flashed incandescent, and she fixed Gale with a look that probably should have turned him into a pile of ash. “Oh, are you going to tell me how to do my job now ‘Dr. Dekarios’? After you locked your keys in your office like an utter moron.” She snatched the folder out of Wyll’s hand and tossed it on a surface behind her. “Why don’t you leave before I call security and tell them that a strange man is trying to get into a department chair’s office?”

Gale threw his hands in the air like he was being held at gunpoint. “Alright, alright, I’ll leave.” He exited the office with Wyll hot on his heels.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, daunted by the prospect that he would have to track down Astarion somehow when Wyll tapped him on the shoulder. Gale startled like a trapped hare.

“I’m sorry, but are you trying to get into a locked room?” Wyll asked a trimmer of something tentative and excited in his voice. “Because I can help with that!”

Gale raised an eyebrow. He probably shouldn’t be asking a student to break the school code for him, but it wasn’t like he had any other options. “Alright, do you have a spare key?”

Wyll smiled precociously. “Something like that.”

Ominous. But Gale led him back down to his office nonetheless.

“So, you’re the new English professor?” Wyll asked. He handed his tray of coffee to Gale as they reached the office door so he could rummage around for something in his backpack. “If I’d known I was going to run into you, I would have gotten you a coffee too!”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can’t, with good conscience, ask a student to pay for my coffee.”

“I don’t pay for it!” Wyll assured him as he pulled a small nail file and a mangled bobby pin out of a side pocket. “I worked at the campus coffee house a couple of semesters ago, and the manager never deactivated my free drink code.”

Wyll wiggled the bobby pin into the lock, and Gale looked around frantically as he realized what was happening.

“Wyll, are you sure about this?” Gale muttered as a random student waiting in the hall glanced at them curiously.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Dr. Ancunín's the one who taught me how to do this!” Wyll stabbed the nail file into the lock and turned. There was a loud pop as the lock disengaged. “If you ask, he’ll probably teach you too. He says all the locks on campus were bought in bulk, so they all have a similar flaw that makes them easy to pick.”

“Why does Dr. Ancunín know how to pick locks?”

“He wouldn’t say.” He dropped his lock-pick tools back in their side pocket and pushed himself off his knees, brushing his pants off. “But it keeps me from having to ask Mizora when I need to get into a classroom.”

“She’s charming, isn’t she?” Gale handed the coffees back to Wyll. “Does she talk to everyone like that?”

A bitter laugh escaped Wyll’s lips. “No, I’m just her favorite, I guess.” He checked his watch and started a little bit. “Oh, I’m going to be late!” He slung his backpack over his shoulder and half-jogged back down the hallway. He paused before he stepped into the stairwell. “It was nice to meet you, Dr. Dekarios!”

***

G: What the fuck is her problem?

Astarion had to stifle a bark of laughter in front of the students trickling in. Xenia had slipped in at some point, settling in her usual spot: The back corner of the classroom, far from the notice of her peers or teachers. She was trying to skirt around Astarion’s notice too.

A: Did you get back in the office, at least? G: No thanks to Mizora.

Wyll stepped into the room with a sheepish smile and handed him a lukewarm to-go cup of coffee. “Sorry, I’m late.” He whispered.

Astarion took a long sip of his coffee. It was a blonde roast with a splash of milk -he wouldn’t usually bother with the milk, but the teenage baristas tended to burn their shots. “I suppose I can forgive you this once.”

Wyll laughed, but he was already scanning the classroom for someone else. Xenia looked up from the notebook she was pretending to scribble in and gave Wyll a little wave, a tentative smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Ah, so that was it.

Wyll sidled past the students in the front row to hand Xenia the second cup in his Coffee tray. They beamed at each other the way only school kids could as they talked about something mundane, like the weather or the walk-up from the dorms. Xenia toyed with the end of her braid while Wyll leaned closer and closer over the desk.

He would be good for her.

Better than the crowd Astarion had thrown himself into the instant he got out from under his dearest father’s thumb, at any rate.

Astarion conspicuously cleared his throat and motioned for Wyll to take his spot at the front of the classroom. “This is 1204 Sophomore Survey of Modern British Literature.” He fixed Xenia with a hard stare that she desperately tried to ignore. “If that is not the class you are expecting to be in, I highly suggest you make a swift exit now.”

A different student dozing off in the back of the class startled and ran out of the room.

There was always one every semester.

Astarion went through the same monolog he did at the beginning of every class. The rhythm and cadence were as familiar as a hymn. He grew up in London and graduated from Cambridge. His office hours were posted on the syllabus, but please try to schedule appointments beforehand. This course required a textbook, but most of the readings could be found online for free.

He turned the floor over to Wyll for about five minutes so he could explain what a supplemental instructor was, then closed out by letting a few students speak on what British literature they were familiar with, and as usual, most of them grumbled about how they had to read Shakespeare in high school and how much they hated it because they couldn’t understand the language. One girl threw up her hands in despair when he informed her that she would have to read Romeo and Juliet for a second time, but she was placated when he promised her there wouldn’t be any Chaucer (He wondered what sadist of a world lit teacher she had in high school that made 16-year-olds read middle English). One boy had a Welsh grandmother who loved T.S. Eliot and read him Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats when he visited in the summer. Astarion refrained from informing him that T.S. Eliot was actually an American.

But for the most part, the class had very little love for British authors—which wasn’t much of a surprise for a mixed major intro-level course—and nearly everyone was here because they had a humanities credit to fill. Really, the only one who wasn’t was probably Xenia… who was here because Wyll was here.

Astarion closed the class by assigning a short reading on the importance of literature studies that he already knew no one would read and dismissed the class. Xenia went for her usual speedy exit from the room, but Astarion headed her off at the pass.

“Just a moment Ms. Bellona, I need a quick word.”

She froze like a statue, and the football player behind her nearly tripped over her.

“I really don’t think I have the time,” she said smoothly. She was learning that she didn’t have to yield to her professors the way she did her high school teachers, but she didn't quite have the courage to openly disobey him yet. Ah, sophomores were his favorite.

“I won’t take up too much of your time.”

Xenia’s shoulders slumped, and she skulked over to his lectern, grumbling something under her breath.

“Oh, don’t be so sour.” Astarion scoffed. “You’re not in trouble.”

“Then why do you make it sound like I am?”

“That’s just his accent,” Wyll explained as he organized his stack of availability surveys to stick in his bag. “It makes everything sound more severe.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “I will see you tomorrow, Mr. Ravengard.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Wyll made his way out of the room and paused at the door. “By the way, Lydia wanted me to let you know the study hall schedule is posted.” He said before disappearing into the hallway.

“Since when is he on a first-name basis with Dr. Silverwarden?” Astarion mused.

Xenia shrugged. “He calls Professor Cliffgate by her first name, too.”

“Yes, well, they’re technically colleagues now- It’s no matter.” He switched gears. “Xenia, dearest, why are you in another Sophomore literature class? You technically haven’t completed the first one.”

She went steely. “I’ve been thinking about picking up an English minor. My advisor said that it would go well with my current degree plan.”

“The advising office might be fighting over a singular brain cell, but I’m almost certain they would have told you to take a technical writing minor for a psychology degree.”

“What if I took up a literature minor because I like literature?”

“Then I’d tell you you shouldn’t waste your time.”

“Isn’t that a little hypocritical of you?”

“No, because I was already independently wealthy outside of my education choices. You should focus on a field where you can get a job.”

“Aren’t professors supposed to encourage students to follow their passions?”

“If you’re trying to follow your passions, my dear, there are easier ways to spend time with Wyll.”

Xenia turned red from her neck to the tips of her ears. “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She huffed, zipping up her jacket as if Astarion could literally see into her heart. “We’re just friends- He’s helping me get back on the fencing team in the fall, that’s all!”

Astarion raised his coffee cup to his lips, swallowing back the dregs at the bottom. “Does he buy coffee for all his friends, then?”

Something vexed and nervous swam in Xenia’s dark eyes, and she hurriedly tossed her cup into a nearby trashcan. “He bought you coffee too, by that logic-”

Astarion held up a hand to silence her. “Don’t even imply that.” He scolded. “Wyll brings me coffee because I’m technically his boss, and he likes going above and beyond. I suspect he brings you coffee because he likes to see you happy.”

“I think you’re just reaching.” Her voice wavered in a way that made Astarion feel a little guilty for pushing.

“Maybe, but I’ve watched a lot of students catch crushes in my tenure.”

Her jaw tensed, and her gaze drifted out the window for a brief moment. “Is this all you wanted to talk about?”

“You’re already in a precarious situation regarding your student finances. I just thought I should say something.” Astarion shrugged. “I’m not trying to upset you.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I can take care of myself.” Xenia’s voice was flat and irritated. She slipped her finger under the pad of her messenger bag’s strap and adjusted it into a more comfortable position on her shoulder. “I guess I’ll email you if I have any questions about my work.”

“Alright, have a good afternoon.” Astarion let her leave, then let out a deep sigh.

Idiot kid.

He went to gather his lecture notes when Gale called. He thought about letting it go to voicemail -whatever it was could probably wait the 5 minutes it would take to get back to their office- but something about the situation nagged him a little bit.

He picked up.

“Do you miss the sound of my voice this much?”

“I- uh, what?” Gale sounded panicked on the other end.

“Is something wrong?”

“The faculty lounge is flooding.”

Shit.

[kerostarz]

love you twice. kim gyuvin

🍵 _

“and yeah he was really nice overall”

my roommate finally came back and i told her all about my official first encounter with kim gyuvin.

“this is the beginning of your rom-com.. are you kidding me ??” my roommate squeals, i laugh and shrug, “oookay calm down i don’t even have the time to complete half of these essays and research studies in time, you think i’ll have time for romance ?” my friend smiles and winks and i roll my eyes giving up.

⏰ *ringggg* *ringggg* (the next day)

i woke up and quickly got ready. today i had two midterms in biology. how exciting. truthfully with me being sick i wasn’t able to study much as i just felt dead for a whole week, so i decided to wake up early and go revise in the library.

it wasn’t too cold this morning as spring was approaching so i finally chose to wear a t shirt and some baggy blue jeans. i silently scurried out of my dorm as to not disturb my roommate who was still in dreamland.

📓📚.

after 2 hours in the library, it was finally time to take my test and i did not feel prepared at all. 1.5 hours passed by and the bell rang signaling that the test was finally over. it was well past 13:00 pm and i was so hungry. i quickly paced down the hallway but when i got down to the entrance, it was pouring rain outside. great.

for one: i had no umbrella in hand, and for two: it started getting cold and i had no jacket either. at this point my only choice was to run back to my dorm but before i could take a step outside, a hand pulled me inside again. huh ?

“it’s too cold, you’ll catch a cold again” i turned around, my face meeting with none other than kim gyuvin’s face. “oh it’s you!” i exclaimed in surprise.

“here” gyuvin dropped his backpack on the floor and began to take his hoodie off, “you can have my hoodie” and before another word could leave my mouth, he motioned his head left and right and pointed his palm at me, “do not worry! i am wearing a thermal shirt underneath so i have come prepared for the weather AND i brought an umbrella too!” i smiled softly, gently taking his hoodie and thanking him as i put it on. it was warm and had a baggy fit on me.

gyuvin opened the umbrella and we took off under the rain, our bodies compressed under the umbrella as to not get a single drop on us. “what brings you in the biology building by the way?” i asked him, wondering since his major’s building was on the other side of campus. “oh! uuhh.. my friend left his pencil case so i went to drop it off.. yeah!” he smiled. “i see, well we just had an exam and i’m exhausted ugh, i have another one in the afternoon but at least it’s online” i sighed, a sigh of exhaustion. silence and rain fills the conversation for a minute.. “are you hungry? let’s go and grab hot pot” gyuvin suggests and i immediately agree.

🥢~

“thank you for the meal~” i drop my body against the restaurant’s sofa, my stomach satisfied with the food, “you really didn’t have to pay gyuvin”. he refused to half the bill earlier and ran to the counter to pay. at that point i couldn’t say no so i remained in my seat laughing it off as he turned around smiling and sticking his tongue out.

“sooo.. when are you taking the test” gyuvin asks, we headed out the restaurant and began to mindlessly walk around the streets near campus. “ah, you’re right” i chuckled, “i totally forgot about it haha” i was having so much fun just hanging around with him that it only hit me now that i have yet another test to take. “i should head back to my dorm” i replied looking down at my feet. i felt gyuvin’s gaze laying on mine and i suddenly started getting nervous. but why ?

“it’s 5pm and the cafe should not be busy since it’s a week day.. we could pass by and you can take your exam there, yeah?” i looked up at him, his eyes shining like boba balls, almost as if he was begging me to not leave. “plus it’s nearer here than campus so we’ll save time and-” “let’s go,” i cut him off and smiled, gyuvin smiling back, his eyes forming a crescent moon shape.

“let’s get going then.”

[abattoirstars]

I will gain 🆕❗️ an extra life 1️⃣🆙, when I get the high score🔝👾. (You could respawn 🔄👼🏻 anywhere)

I am one with the furniture 🪑 , more inanimate 🕳️ than amateur 💪 (Like a television 📺 set!)

Gangrene ☣️ knuckle 👊 announced 🗣️ so audibly! 💥

I will boost 📈 my attention span 🤔📚, soon my clock 🕛 will have a minute hand ⏰ (You've 🫵 become a smithereen! 🤯)

I’m watching 👀 that foxhound 🦊 frolic 💃 on the abattoir 🔪🩸 floor

Up in heaven 🙏🌤️ it’s symmetrical 🪽😇🪽

Airbrush! 💨🖌️ What have you done ⁉️ with my father? 👴🏻

Why does he look 👀 like a carving? 🗿👨🏻‍🎨

I don’t wanna ❌ live 🫀in the present 🎁

I make 🤝 my own density 😶‍🌫️🫥

And ah-ah-ah! 😫‼️ Who did you photoshop 💻🥸 handsome? 😍

You ready for reincarnation? ⚰️😇

Gotta come 💦 back 🔙 as something❓organic 🥦

Or come 💦 back 🔙 as something ❓else 🧟‍♂️

Just come 💦 back 🔙 as something ❓else 🦾🤖

More dollar 📈💸, less scholar 📉👨‍🏫, less time 📉🕰️

[maddgical-boy]

queerer things still paracosm tumblr dashboard simulator

*this is implying all of the realms exist on one singular multidimensional tumblr :)

📣 soundboy Follow

this website is so easy. all we gotta talk about is gay people and then get into superpower discourse every now and then for flavor. and penis

💀 littlekernel Follow

@ noellewithanle wtf are these tags i can never tell if you're just trolling or if you're pissing on the floor as per tumblr standards

#gay penis has a better flavor with superpower discourse on it i agree

💜 noellewithanle Follow

pissing on the FLOOR???

💀 littlekernel

im going to become a recluse again goodbye

( 739 notes )

🌌 whalfaiya-is-queen Follow

hey not to be a buzzkill but can you guys stop being so mean to that kid thea who left faiyism? his mom is also literally involved in that murder scandal at the church so i understand why he'd wanna leave. he is still a kid and you guys are saying some pretty horrible things about him. religion isn't for everyone our society is really so backwards :/

🧑🏿 antiorange Follow

the asteria ithione stuff is literally just rumors don't believe everything you read on tumblr.com

🌌 whalfaiya-is-queen

it literally isn't??? this article provides evidence for all you pointing fingers. this post was barely even about her it was about how you are all bullying a CHILD

❤️‍🔥 yyyoriaefan Follow

That article is a gossip rag but I'd expect nothing less from a Thierry supporter. He's a traitor to the church and Whalfaiya will punish him. You're acting like he's a baby but he's 17 years old, he knows what he did wrong.

#Some of you aren't even real believers for not denouncing this kid but that's a post for another day

( 9,325 notes )

⛲ watergirlisnotrepresentation Follow

GUYS WHAT THE FUCK. MY LITTLE SISTER *ALSO* HAS WATER MANIPULATION POWERS TOO. FUCK MY ENTIRE LIFEEEEE

#she literally always has to be like me IM SICK OF IT 😭

( 2 notes )

🍧 girl-of-immeamund Follow

Day 100 of being in Immeamund! Newsworthy-ish...ness

Wish there was more shit to do down here, TBH The Eye is a really boring guy. They're probably gonna beat my ass for that but I literally don't have any memories so they can't damn me to eternal pains~ uwu

Am I the only one on this site who uses it as an actual blog? LOL

( 0 notes )

thea-deactivated-2̵̧̧̛̖̺͓͉͂̇̏̐̅͋̆͒́͐̆͜͝0̸͍̝̻̠̬͈̫̉͛̌̿͝1̷̡̨̟̲͇̜͚̺͖͎̥̃͝9̵̩͉̲̯̹͙͈̟̝̹͈͚̓̽̈̀͜͜͝0̴̺̹̉͒̉̒͑͝͝2̷̨̟͎̻͖͖̩͈̩̲͓̭̺̯̦͆͐̽̉̍̈̇͑͐́̕1̸̡̡̲̼̙̘̥̤̙̹͚̥̓̓͋̇͂́̒͘8̵̧͕̹̟̓̽̏̏̒͑̓͂̕͝͝

All this reaction to me leaving that cult proves that the rest of you are brainwashed. Deactivating this blog because your bullshit is flooding my notifs and I'm done with having my phone literally crash every time I open this stupid fucking app.

❤️‍🔥 yyyoriaefan Follow

K

☔ blue-hair-sow-nouns Follow

U

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N

🧶 fightfaiyawithfaiya Follow

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🧑🏿 antiorange Follow

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🌘 moonsspeaks Follow

O

emerie-glorias-ass-tattoo-deactivated-2̵̛̺̗̖̀̃̇̾̊́̇̒͒͊̅͒͆0̸͓̣͈̝͕̐̐͛͛̕͜2̶̲͈̫̙̬͉͔̳͚̗͓͂̾̾2̵̛͈͇͆̀̅͊͑̓͝-̶̗̃͆̐̆̿1̷̣͈͙̟͎̝̟͔̤̪̜̞̻̱̋͋̏́́̐̽ͅ1̴̬̟̜͙̒̉̇́̍̇͝-̴̨̛̭̻̱̫̦̥̰̯̞̻̲̟͔̆͝0̸̪̲͑͒̀͊̐͑̾̍͛̽̕͠4̵̧͔̮̟̰̣̻̙̟̺́̐͝

W

🍹 humanhater-lel Follow

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🌨️ cloudformationmagic Follow

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🎀 does-anyone-read-these Follow

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🧚🏽‍♀️ matriarchy-supremacy Follow

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🌳 asiliveand-wreath Follow

S

❤️‍🔥 yyyoriaefan

#We finally fucking got him boys

( 103,264 notes )

🔮 meoryst2 Follow

hot take but how many times does void mother have to lose her kids for the time king to like. take them away

🖤 voidmama Follow

ex-fucking-scuse me? last time i checked you're not a parent so you don't get to criticize my parenting techniques. i'm letting my kids grow up

🔮 meoryst2

you asked HUMAN CHILDREN to help find your primordial piss raisins i literally can't believe you

⏰ your-time-is-nearly-up Follow

for the last fucking time, I DON'T TAKE CHILDREN AWAY

#idc about your hot takes stop saying this shit about me

( 204 notes )

🧣 theaagain Follow

What's this white shit falling on the ground outside????

📣 soundboy Follow

DUDE WHERE ARE YOU

🧣 theaagain

I went to get coffee??

📣 soundboy

DID YOU LEAVE THE FUCKING STATE?? IT DOESN'T SNOW HERE

🧣 theaagain

Is that what this white stuff is?

💀 littlekernel Follow

it's that dark where you are?? thierry how did you even get there??

💜 noellewithanle Follow

thierry you gave me a fucking heart attack for COFFEE???????????????

🧣 theaagain

I WAS THIRSTY

#Humans are so judgemental #Like you fuckers don't get thirsty too #Also this is literally the same place as outside Merryday it's a chain so does it even matter??

( 14 notes )

👁️ the-eye Follow

ALL THESE RECENTLY DEAD SOULS ARE RIDICULOUSLY DAMNABLE. WHY ARE THEY ALL SO TAINTED WITH THE UNHOLY REDNESS

🍧 girl-of-immeamund Follow

Me talking about my underwear during my period

👁️ the-eye

JUST BECAUSE I KEEP YOU AROUND DOESN'T MEAN YOU GET TO HIJACK MY POSTS

🍧 girl-of-immeamund

I'm going to hijack all of your posts like I'm DB Cooper and you are Flight 305

🍧 girl-of-immeamund

BTW what happened to DB Cooper? ^_^

👁️ the-eye

THE MATTERS OF OTHER SOULS ARE CONFIDENTIAL

#HE WAS IMPALED BY A TREE 😔

( 6 notes )

💀 littlekernel Follow

i think my greatest fear is killing someone and not remembering i did it

💀 littlekernel

guys why did i wake up to my ask box being full

💀 littlekernel

who is joanie liao i don't know anything about her death guys this isn't funny!! i don't have a sister i'm serious!!

( 1,030 notes )

💌 alls-fair-in-love-only Follow

unfollow if you don't ship thierry/rory it's literally my comfort ship!

🌷 platonic-thehedgehog Follow

okay first of all, those are real people you freak. just because we're primordial beings doesn't mean we're exempt from people's boundaries surrounding rpf. secondly, thierry literally insulted rory's sister's religion which is CLEARLY super personal so the farthest they're ever gonna get is MAYBE friends. stop making everything about romance

💌 alls-fair-in-love-only

I LITERALLY PRESIDE OVER ALL LOVE AFFAIRS IT'S MY JOB??? also people can change. you need to go to the human realm and touch some damn grass

#you do the same thing too lmao don't act innocent. you're forcing people to only be friends even if they're into each other because you're such a purist #don't get into discourse with siblings guys im warning you

( 669 notes )

💜 noellewithanle Follow

do you think they call it thefalym because they falling on my m

💜 noellewithanle

whups haha guys this left my drafts before i finished it! oh well

🧣 theaagain Follow

Delete your blog.

💜 noellewithanle

No <3

( 51 notes )

🐉 liberation-for-superpower Follow

okay for all you people on here with no powers listen up. not every kid aging into their powers will accidentally burn down a school or sink a golf course into the earth's core so PLEASE stop making jokes like that it's not funny and a lot of us just want to live our lives especially scared kids

🩸 fineillcallitpaint Follow

this is a serious post and i get that but also: kids, if you're about to get your powers, hope and pray to whatever god you believe in that you sink those damn golf courses. eliminate those rich people greens

#real talk? my brother got the ability to control gophers and made them all dig up our dick neighbor's yard until she moved out so that was p funny #not paint

( 948 notes )

💀 littlekernel Follow

ralphie parker is an idiot if i got an ad in my secret message from little orphan annie i WOULD be sure to drink my ovaltine

💀 littlekernel

rbing this to make this have 5 notes bc i won't have the number 4 on my blog

#idc if i sound superstitious

( 5 notes )

🥵 dirty-nesitralia-confessions Follow

elemental's kinda hot tbh. i know they're crazy and evil but damn i bet they would leave me unable to walk

Submitted by anonymous

🌀 the-elemental-official Follow

EXCUSE ME?? CURSE OF ANTHROPOPHAGITE INSECTA ‼

💥🕸🕷️🦗🪲🦟🪰🕸💥

📣 soundboy Follow

i literally nearly died from those bugs you insensitive pricks WHO SUBMITTED THIS??

#i know four people who have been to nesitralia and i am NOT putting it past three of them to have submitted this shit. #UNHINGED

( 7,195 notes )

[saturnellaa]

what’s with these homies👬 dissin 🗣️ my girl 🙍‍♀️ ⁉️ what do they got against her ❌⁉️ what did we ever do these guys 🥺 that made them so violent 🤬woo-hoo 😇 but you know i’m yours 💕 woo-hoo 😇 and i know you’re mine ❤️‍🩹 woo-hoo 😇 and that’s for all of time ‼️⏰ ooh wee ooh i look just like buddy holly 🤓 oh oh and you’re mary tyler moore 👩🏻 i don’t care ❌ what they say about us 🗣️ anyways i don’t care bout that ❌ 🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

don’t you ever fear 😰 i’m always near ☺️ i know that you need help😱 your tongue is twisted your eyes are slit you need a guardian 😇👼 woo-hoo 😇 but you know i’m yours 💕 woo-hoo and i know you’re mine ❤️‍🩹 woo-hoo and that’s for all of time ⏰‼️‼️‼️‼️ ⏸️ 🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸‼️

‼️ ooh wee ooh i look just like buddy holly 🤓 oh oh and you’re mary tyler moore 👩🏻 i don’t care ❌ what they say about us 🗣️ anyways i don’t care bout that ❌ i don’t care bout that ❌ 🎸🎸‼️🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

BANG ‼️ BANG ‼️ a knock ✊ on the door 🚪 another big BANG ‼️ and you’re down on the floor 😰 oh ! 😥 no ! 😭 what do we do ❓don’t look 👀 now but i lost my shoe 👞 i can’t run 🏃‍♂️❌ and i can’t kick 🦵❌ what’s the matter babe are you feeling sick 🤢⁉️ what’s the matter⁉️whatsthematter⁉️what’s the matter you⁉️ what’s the matter babe are you feeling blue 😭😂 ⁉️

OOH-WEE-HOO I LOOK JUST LIKE BUDDY HOLLY 🤓‼️‼️ OH OH AND YOURE MARY TYLER MOORE 🗣️👩🏻 ‼️

IDC ❌ WHAT THEY SAY🗣️ ABOUT US 👫🏻 ANYWAYS ‼️IDC CARE ABOUT THAT ❌ ‼️‼️‼️‼️🥁🥁🥁

[exosmutfactory]

Only Forever 005

Originally posted by hyunniebaeked

How long could you wait for the love of your life to decide you are his as well? How many times could you witness all his best moments of winning over agencies and the amount of clothes left overnight from his daily one night stands?

Main Masterlist | Bookclub zone | Chapter 5✓

networks — @/superm-net @/bbh-net

pairing — Baekhyun x You

word count — 3.3k

genre — model! baekhyun, playboy! baekhyun, friends to lovers! romance, angst, fluff, smut (eventually)

[ This chapter contains: 😏 ]

⏰💋 Only Forever Tag List: 💋⏰

@to-all-the-stories-i-love @you-n-me-e-e @insta1010 @bellamendoza @bbhflrt @weirdoome @marovekian1 @pearliejoy @loey0491 @__jxnnx3 @soonvivi @jairahxelle @dynqstyna

Chapter 5

Your body's looking good tonight

I'm thinking we should cross the line

You’ve been back home for a little under 48 hours and there’s already a lot on your plate.

The apartment is full of dust. Your bank account is looking empty. The lock on your bedroom door is jammed. Your landlord insists that your rent has gone up 2% because you were ‘short’ on your last payment, (which you vividly remember paying him 2 dollars over the amount before your trip). A raccoon decided to make a home in the back of your closet and your air conditioner unit broke again. All of the above are top-tier conditions to live in a week before your final fall semester.

In other words, you are royally fucked.

At least the raccoon doesn’t have rabies. That’s the least of your problems. You’re pulling your hair out over the fact that you have to wait for someone to come unlock your bedroom door and pray that it gets fixed before animal services arrive. The only reason you hadn’t noticed the wild animal last night is because you had passed out on the couch the moment you entered your apartment. Now, not only do you have an intruder in your home, but you also have to battle against the herd of fire ants crawling under the door.

By the time someone installs a new doorknob and the raccoon has been whisked away, you are gathering your hair into a ponytail and rolling up your sleeves to face the overwhelming stream of insects traveling in and out of your window. All in all, you’d give this experience a negative 10 out of 10.

This just goes to show that as much as you love (and need) your yearly beach vacations with Baekhyun, the clusterfuck you come back home to will never be anything less than overwhelming. You did not sign up for a WWE match with a colony of ants in the middle of your bedroom, or the hole in the wall at the back of your closet where that Over the Hedge looking rat bastard must have dug its way through.

Why did you insist on an apartment next to an oak tree on the second floor? In times like this, you’re seriously rethinking all your life choices. Thankfully, you have a strong support system to counteract all the mental breakdowns that threaten to disrupt your day-to-day life.

The next morning, you nearly fall flat on your face in your hurry to tie up your hair, throw on a cute outfit, and rush downtown to meet your friends for brunch at your usual spot. The early-August sunrise paints the sky in beautiful shades of baby pink and lavender hues. It’s warm enough for you to forgo a jacket and sprint to the nearest bus stop—the only perks of late-summer mornings. You get a good look at your surroundings while waiting for the bus, neatly tying bows on the ends of your long sleeve floral shirt and dusting off your faded blue jeans. By the time a bus arrives, the summer heat is already starting to bear down on the nape of your neck.

Now, there’s something that should be mentioned about your friends before you step off of the public transportation (that you are growing to disdain every day you travel around the city without a car. You’re one good chair kick away from swearing this woman’s entitled kid up to the heavens).

As someone who has never been much of an outgoing person, you like to keep your friendship circle small and close to your heart. Old classmates used to tease you about it in the past, especially at the small following you had across all your social media. ‘You have that little friends? How sad.’

Well, as you say time and time again, you rather have 5 close friends than 50 people who would leave you at the drop of a hat in their quest to gain popularity. Hell, your friendship circle has gotten even smaller than that these days. But the moment you step through the door of the upscale bakery, a familiar pair of brown and gray eyes light up at the sight of you.

May’s smile is blinding when she waves you over, with a smudge of blue paint on her cheek and her vibrant pixie-cut hair bobbing with every enthusiastic movement. Her pastel off-the-shoulder t-shirt rests snuggly above her waist, paired nicely with her high-waisted blue jeans. There’s an excited glint in her gray eyes that lets you know you’re in for a wild ride today. From her energy alone, you know she’s halfway through her second cup of coffee.

Your eyes shift over to Shea as she elegantly crosses her legs and nods at you, hiding her fond, rogue lipstick-colored smile behind her coffee mug. She sits tall and regal, not a curl or hoop-earring out of place. The sunlight streaming through the windows favors her burgundy pantsuit-clad frame and beautiful skin. Her mischievous brown eyes flash and she taps her french-tipped acrylic nails on the table as you approach.

You quickly make your way over to them, taking the empty side left in the cozy little booth, and the moment your eyes meet theirs, you’re immediately bombarded with their flow of questions.

“So!” May leans forward with a teasing grin, the pencil tucked behind her ear and her neon green crocs holding on for dear life. “How was the honeymoon? Any progress with Mister Heartstealer~~~?”

You nearly choke on the steaming drink a waitress sets down in front of you. That question alone reminds you of your last day at the beach, a vivid image of messy black hair, alluring brown eyes, and glistening pectorals instantly coming to mind. “Uh-” you shift your eyes off to the side as your face heats up, “-well-”

“Oh?” Shea quirks an amused smile.

“Ha!” May squeals, clapping her hands and gripping the edge of the table. “I knew something steamy happened! Spill!!!”

“U-uh-” you laugh nervously, shrinking under the curious (and irritated-) stares around the room. “I mean, I would but we don’t got all day-”

Shea scoffs, her crystal necklace sparkling under the cozy lights. “Girl, who are you kidding? I cleared my entire schedule for this.”

“Final painting done and submitted for the gallery next month.” May nods, fixing you with a serious look. “Now spill the beans.”

With a fond sigh, you recount every significant moment you had with Baekhyun over the last few weeks. The retelling of your story sounds like something out of a young adult novel and rekindles the heat in your cheeks. You wonder what he’s up to right now and frown. You hope he hadn’t gotten into too much trouble for blowing off his schedule yesterday to spend time with you. In a way… it’s almost as if he hates the fact your vacation came to an end as much as you do.

By the time you finish and trail off into your thoughts, a hush has fallen over the booth. 

“You’re telling me you went skinny dipping, stargazing, rubbed each other down, and you still think he doesn’t have feelings for you?” Shea gives you the most exaggerated stare before turning to May. “Who’s gonna tell her?”

“Guys-”

“He’s in love with you, idiot.” May huffs, crossing her arms.

“It’s not like that!” you groan, fanning yourself in hopes of alleviating the heat in your cheeks. Is the coffee making you hot or is this conversation? You’re too flustered to tell. “We’ve been best friends for over 10 years.” The teasing, sly smirks, and heartfelt smiles… “He’s always like this.”

Shea takes a calm and collected sip of her coffee. “You really are a dumbass.”

You throw your hands up in defeat and the conversation draws to a close as a waitress comes over to take your orders. As familiar as your group is with Baekhyun, no one can forget how easy it is for rumors to fly about the supermodel in a place like this. You hope too much information hasn’t left your table when you catch a pair of waitresses whispering to each other off in a far corner of the room. The last thing you need is everyone finding out you are who Baekhyun vacations with every year.

To be fair, the general public knows a bit about you anyway. Not your name, or your face, but you’ve caught a few articles discussing the “Jane Doe” who is “frequently seen by his side” when the pair of you do mundane everyday things over the years. That and the wench who you do not speak of who always worms her way into paired photoshoots with him. But we digress:

You’re so glad you met up with your friends today as you discuss the message behind May’s latest art exhibit and the progress Shea’s marketing team has made recently. When all else has gone astray in this world, you can always count on your friends to be there for you. Just a conversation in a cozy setting like this is enough to get you through the rest of the week. If you were a castle, May and Shea are your pillars of strength.

All too soon, Shea looks down at her smartwatch when it beeps, and you check your own phone in astonishment to find out that it’s already a quarter to noon. You’re not surprised that you managed to spend over 3 hours catching up with your friends, that’s usually how it goes with how busy everyone is in your small group. It’s the fact that time has slipped away from you, the once gentle sunlight now blazing your fingertips through the windows. You’re already wincing at the thought of riding a bus back to your apartment in this “clear blue sky with a side of hell” weather until a jingle of keys catches your attention.

Shea smiles knowingly at your surprised expression. “Well?” she raises a brow, twirling her keys around her fingers, “I got one more errand to run before turning in for the day. You down?”

You’re already nodding before she even finishes her sentence, setting down your fair share of the tip and the bill before leaving the bakery. 

Shea watches you head for her sleek red car with a smile while May slaps money down on the table.

“Bet $20 he’ll make the first move,” the artist smirks, waving over a waitress to order a pastry before they leave.

Shea raises a brow, smoothing down her suit and grabbing her purse. “But if liquor ‘s involved?”

“...Touche,” May giggles, following her outside. She squints when they step out on the curb, shielding her eyes from the sun, “but when does she ever party?”

“When it comes to him?” Shea chuckles, glancing at you in the distance. “Don’t act surprised.”

🌊🌊🌊

You’ve reached a dilemma—or, more accurately, you’re facing one right now.

It’s a quarter to midnight, the moon high in the sky, the stars twinkling in celestial light, and you’re shivering like a fawn prepared to take its first steps into the wildest party you’ve ever seen with your own eyes.

How did I get here? you ask yourself as if the answer isn’t strolling up to you right now with midnight hair and sultry brown eyes.

“Are you free tomorrow night?” Baekhyun asks you from across his pristine kitchen counters, imploring you with curious brown eyes.

You stare blankly at him, taking the last bite of your favorite cuisine and hopping off of a bar stool before turning to rinse off your plate in the sink. “That depends,” you share hesitantly, weary of the hopeful expression on his handsome face. After this morning’s events and nearly running late to your interview when a certain someone decided to critique every single article of clothing you wanted, you can only imagine what ideas are forming in that beautiful head of his right now.

“There’s a party going on over on Maple street,” he starts, tapping his fingers on the counter, already giving you those puppy eyes. But all you can focus on is the fact that he’s asking you to go to a party with him. He’s asking you to go to a party with him. In the middle of the week. On a Tuesday night.

It takes less than 15 seconds for you to give him a reply, “I don’t dance.”

Baekhyun smiles as if he expected that answer, walking over to lightly bump his hip to yours. “There are plenty of other things to do at a party than just dance.”

“I don’t smoke either.”

“Free shots?”

“...” you pointedly look at his empty fridge. “Gin and juice does sound good about now.”

Remember when your friends called you a dumbass? Yeah, you are one. Now here you are, already two shots of vodka in from your ride over here, pacing back and forth on some rich guy’s lawn, trying to talk yourself into stepping through those double doors or turning around and sprinting back home… and then Baekhyun shows up fashionably in all his glory, stopping you dead in your tracks.

His black hair is messily tousled as always, the tips falling into his half-lidded, kohl-lined brown eyes. The first few buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned, revealing the sliver of a thin silver chain on his collarbones and a peek of his honey-toned skin. His shirt is tucked into a snug pair of dark jeans that your gaze is locked on a little too long before you manage to look away. From this distance, you can tell he’s already blazed.

As per privacy precautions, your best friend had asked you to meet him at the party rather than show up together. Even a frat party among a group of (plastered. Absolutely plastered and the party only started 30 minutes ago-) elite individuals calls for carefully navigating the lines between Baekhyun’s modeling and inner circles. More than half the crowd tonight is full of celebrities in celebration of one of their fellow influencers’ birthdays. You swear you can see the lean silhouette of another famous supermodel from here.

Baekhyun steps closer, the midnight breeze drowning you in his cologne and rich vanilla scent as he leans closer to murmur in your ear. “You ready?”

You glance back at the LED light, lit-up mansion behind you, feeling the wind flow through your crop top and the heavy bass of speakers in your newest pair of dainty black strap heels. You wonder if Baekhyun realizes how close he is standing to you, the warmth of his strong thighs felt through the fabric of your jeans and his minty breath caressing your ear. Unlike how loud you imagine the music is inside, you can hear him perfectly fine out here, under his sharp gaze and the light of the moon.

“Yes,” you whisper, meeting his eyes before he takes you by the hand and leads you inside.

Like you’ve mentioned before, parties aren’t really your scene of choice. You attend one every now and then to accompany May on her wild adventures for “inspiration” but even then you tend to stick close to the nearest wall and watch over the rest of your friends. You don’t like being in the center of attention like free-spirited May, elegant Shea, or your suave best friend. Yet when Baekhyun softly squeezes your hand and walks you through the heart of the party, you don’t have the heart to complain. As long as you are with him, you know that you’re safe.

The music is what hits you first, the bass boom of the latest R&B album overwhelming your senses. The inside of the house is decorated with smoke machines and disco lights, casting vibrant colors across the dim-lit rooms. If the smoke isn't already hindering your vision, you also walk by a group of guys passing around a joint in the center of the room. You stumble over someone’s feet in the crowd, looking back over your shoulder at the group of girls hurrying to catch their drunk friend before her swaying body falls.

There’s so much happening at once that when you finally reach the kitchen, you grab the nearest empty red cup and crack open a new bottle of tequila. You quickly throw back your drink, wincing at the way it burns down your throat.

Baekhyun cracks open a can of beer and leans his hip against the counter, chuckling at your pinched-up expression. 

You playfully roll your eyes, searching the fridge for a can of soda like you own the place before mixing another drink. The flashing lights are already giving you a headache. You’ll need something to sip on if you want to get through the rest of the night. Not even sza’s latest hits can persuade you to go back into the sweaty makeshift dance floor.

“Baekhyun!” a deep voice calls from the other room. You look up and squint through the dizzying clouds of smoke to see a tall figure step forward to greet Baekhyun and clap him on the back, recognizing their signature ears and a wide grin. Park Chanyeol: a rising rockstar and musician who is frequently seen among Baekhyun’s “industry” inner circle. His ripped t-shirt and right-sleeve tattoos look menacing when his piercing stare lands on you. 

A commotion in the next room has you peeking over Baekhyun’s shoulder into the crowded dining area, your curiosity peaked at the platter of sliced lime and a salt shaker laid out on the table.

Chanyeol clears his throat and crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “We’re doing body shots. You game?” He tilts his head, raising a brow in challenge.

You screw the tequila bottle tight and meet the giant’s smug gaze with narrowed eyes. Now you ain’t a party girl, but one drink down and two shots in, you're ain’t no chicken either. “I’m in,” you grit out, brushing past both of them to enter the next room.

Liquor courage? Maybe. You’re a force to reckon with when there’s alcohol flowing through your veins. The worst thing someone can do is underestimate you while in a tipsy state. You’re already pushing through the small crowd, chugging your drink, and climbing up onto the dining table without a second thought.

Someone instructs you to lie still for them to pour the salt on your bare skin, put the shot glass in place, and for you to hold a slice of lime in your mouth. The music is still going. Your heart races in your ears. Cheers echo around the room, but everything fades into the background when your best friend’s shocked and handsome face comes into view. For a minute you feel a sense of triumph, savoring the rare moment when you leave Baekhyun, your ever-flustering best friend dumbstruck—until he shifts into his modeling persona. 

Baekhyun’s dark brown eyes lock on yours as he places his hands behind his back and leans down to slowly trace his tongue up the salty trail on your navel. You quiver when his warm breath fans over your hip, his mouth hovering over your waist before he licks up the rest of the salt on your torso, coming closer to the shot glass nestled between your breasts.

It takes everything in you to not bite through the lime wedge in your mouth when he wraps his lips around the edge of the glass and throws back the shot of tequila without breaking eye contact. But the sultry gaze in his smoky eyes keeps you locked in place with bated breath. When he leans closer to pull the lime from between your teeth and his bottom lip brushes over yours, you break, surging up to tangle your fingers in his hair and yank his mouth back down to yours as the world fades to black.

Part 1| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5✓ | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 |

A/N: “Just friends” take body shots off of each other right? 😇 Riiight? 😇🤭 Happy new year, loves! 🥳🎊🎉💕

[rukia-writes]

Rukia. I have a question. Please do not feel stressed or forced by this. I know you're bound to get a lot of requests and I can understand that because you're the queen. 💥👑 I'll try to explain briefly what my request would be: In Greek mythology, Ares was very much in love with the titan Eos. And somehow I would find it cute if there was an Eos reader who also develops feelings for Ares but some gods laugh at Ares because they don't believe that Eos reader would fall in love with someone like Ares because he is the god of war. (Could well imagine Adamas making a fool of him and then maybe in front of the assembled team) So that Ares becomes very uncomfortable...and then Bäääm Eos reader comes and teaches Adamas and all the others who made a fool of Ares how to behave. But like I said, it's just a small wish. Don't feel pressured. Take your time. And if you don't feel the topic, that's totally okay. Anyways love you Rukia. You make tumblr so much nicer and reading from you makes me so happy every time. ♥️♥️♥️

A/N: I’m so sorry this was late ⏰ but I hope you enjoy it ♥️

Eos! Reader (fem) x Ares

The Gigantomachy.

Ares was having his wounds tended to by the nurses as his rescuer waited impatiently outside the door. Worried about his fellow comrades Ares wanted to go back out and join them in battle against Gaia. However, he also wanted to thank his rescuer a winged goddess that brought the dawn every day and also his long time love interest. Finally, (Name) was able to check on Ares. The bandages covered his whole chest, and even though Ares was still in pain he played it off the best he could when (Name) entered.

But, (Name) wasn’t fooled and lightly tickled Ares abdomen with her right wing making the god chuckle here and there as he tried to get her to stop, even though he enjoyed her smile. In truth, (Name) wanted Ares to stay put for awhile before going back to the fight. Luckily, (Name) was able to convince Ares to stay with a smile and asking sweetly.

“What happened out there?”

“Gaia and her army! They’re too powerful, we need to come up with a plan.”

“That would be wise. I fear, Zeus may not have a plan.”

Deep down Ares knew his beautiful love interest was right, his father wasn’t a thinker but he was a fighter and he too was one. Also, Ares was fighting not only for the realm but for (Name) as well. While (Name) kept Ares company, Poseidon, Hades and Adamas had arrived as well. The brothers weren’t too fond with how things were going so far in the war and wanted to discuss what to do next after Hermes gave the reports.

Once, Ares joined in the council meeting Hermes began to report how the war was going. Which wasn’t good from what (Name) could here from behind one of the doors and that seemed to only flame her worry for Ares and just as she was thinking to herself how she could help a familiar voice broke out in the meeting.

“You look like hell Ares! I bet even the sweet (Name) wouldn’t look at you now.”

“On the contrary, she um, came to my room and helped me recover. I’m thankful for her kindness.”

“Ooo, Does my son have a crush?”

Zeus decided to quickly tease his son about a possible love interest and to Zeus’ surprise seeing Ares blush only confirmed and it was finally Hades turn to speak.

“You should confess after the war, love is a beautiful thing-“

“As if, brother Hades. The sweet and beautiful (Name) would never get with someone like Ares. Besides, he’s most likely to bite it in this war-“

Hades believed Adamas said too much as he and everyone watched the winged beauty tickle Adamas with her wing while on the floor telling him to apologize as she stood above him. Ares was amazed yet the red on his cheeks told he was happy to see (Name) defend him.

“That’s it! Of course! We should pummel our enemies to the ground! Hermes! Tell everyone that!”

Zeus got the idea that he should just crush his enemies as he expanded his muscles happy at seeing (Name) “attack” Adamas, everyone agreed and began to leave, leaving Adamas yelling for help as he was still being tickled. The only reason (Name) stopped was to check on Ares and make sure the god of war was okay as he still had his injuries.

“Are you okay, Ares?”

“Hm, oh yeah. I’m fine.”

“Good, let’s get you to bed so you can fight in the ear at top condition.”

Ares nodded his head as he wanted to fight but once he noticed his sweet and beautiful love interest place a kiss on his cheek made the god of war turn a bright red and became bashful. Neither noticed but Ares wounds seemed to be healing, thru the power of love Hermes later called it.

Hermes, informed Zeus that (Name) hadn’t left Ares bedside yet and that she was still with him. Zeus was going to ask about something else, someone important but he forgot and asked if he thought (Name) and Ares were a perfect match. Hermes believed the two had chemistry and also firmly believed anyone who disrespected Ares had a fight with (Name).

Hermes suggested maybe she should fight for them as she easily handled Adamas.

🎄Rukia-Writes🎄

[project-sekai-updates]

☕ '프로세카 × 콜라보 카페' 오픈 예정!

이번에는 서울과 부산 두 지역에서 개최됩니다. 주제 음료와 음식의 판매 외에도 굿즈 판매와 다양한 현장 체험 이벤트도 진행됩니다! 현장 이벤트에 참여하시면 푸짐한 선물을 받으실 수 있는 기회가 있으니 참여하셔서 프세카만의 2주년 기념을 함께 보내요!

🗺카페 주소 서울：서울특별시 마포구 동교동 190-1, AK플라자 5F 부산：부산진구 중앙대로 672 (삼정타워) 11층

⏰영업시간: 서울: 5/18~6/9 11:00~22:00(L.O:21:00) -토·일 10:30~22:00

부산: 5/18~6/9 11:00~22:00(L.O:21:00) -금·토 11:00~22:30

🥤메뉴, 예약 및 대기열 규정, 굿즈 판매 등은 애니메이트 X 공식 공지를 참고해주세요🥤

현장 이벤트는 '2주년 한정 엽서 발급 이벤트', '네네 로봇 보너스 깜짝 이벤트', '세카이 쪽지 시험지 이벤트', '프로세카 × 콜라보 카페 오프라인 인증샷 이벤트'로 나뉩니다.

자세한 내용은 네이버 카페(링크)에서 확인해 주세요~ https://cafe.naver.com/pjsekai/527814

[Google Translated Vers.]

☕ ‘Proseca × Collaboration Cafe’ scheduled to open!

This time it will be held in two regions: Seoul and Busan. In addition to the sale of themed drinks and food, merchandise sales and various on-site experience events will also be held! If you participate in the on-site event, you have the opportunity to receive generous gifts, so join us and celebrate Psecaman's 2nd anniversary together!

🗺Cafe address Seoul: AK Plaza 5F, 190-1 Donggyo-dong, Mapo-gu, Seoul Busan: 11th floor, 672 Jungang-daero, Busanjin-gu (Samjeong Tower)

⏰Business hours: Seoul: 5/18~6/9 11:00~22:00(L.O:21:00) -Sat/Sun 10:30~22:00

Busan: 5/18~6/9 11:00~22:00(L.O.:21:00) -Friday/Saturday 11:00~22:30

🥤Please refer to the Animate

The on-site events are divided into '2nd Anniversary Limited Postcard Issuance Event', 'Nene Robot Bonus Surprise Event', 'Sekai Message Test Paper Event', and 'Proseca × Collaboration Cafe Offline Proof Shot Event'.

For more information, please check Naver Cafe (link). https://cafe.naver.com/pjsekai/527814

[brooklynmuseum]

Good morning, Brooklyn. ⏰

Today marks the time to spring forward. In honor of adjusting any analog clocks around your home, we’re taking this opportunity to travel back in time to showcase this 1933 Herman Miller clock. 

This small, electric clock made of a round wooden casing is part of our Decorative Arts collection and is on view in the Luce Visible Storage and Study Center on the 5th floor.

📷 Gilbert Rohde (American, 1894-1944). Clock, Model 6332, ca. 1933. Wood, metal, glass. Brooklyn Museum, Gift of Paul F. Walter, 1999.141.2. Creative Commons-BY (Photo: Brooklyn Museum)