#I have so many things on my to do list but maybe I can squeeze that in inbetween pieces. as a treat for myself

[b4kuch1n]

Your mushroom wizard Leon drawing has been my phone background for longer than I've had my current phone just wanted to say thanks for making it. I am never changing it.

I'm really happy to hear!! :] I have great affection for all the wizard leon designs I made, but coziness-wise that still tops the chart, even though it's not a very leon silhouette. also a lot of ideas I still want to try and execute irl in there! here's him again for good time's sake

[arieslost]

fireproofs | ln4

summary: lando norris is hot and the 2024 fireproofs drive you crazy.

word count: 756

warnings: suggestive comments

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

you’ve been grateful to mclaren for many things over the years, but aside from a fast car, this has to be the best gift they’ve bestowed upon you.

you don’t think it’s an exaggeration when you say that your jaw unhinged the first time you saw lando wearing the new black fireproofs that mclaren has him and oscar in for the 2024 season. he’d sent you pictures, along with a text saying, “what do you think? 👀”

you’d responded with “yeah, not bad” and subsequently spent the next half hour screaming into your pillow. you were able to save face over text, but now that testing is here, you’re a lost cause.

you’d seen lando in black fireproofs before, but something about this year is different. something about him is different. he’s more confident, more determined, and he somehow managed to fill out even more during winter break.

lando had felt bad for mclaren’s car launch sabotaging your valentine’s day, so while you were in the middle of insisting that it wasn’t a big deal, he was booking you a plane ticket to join him in bahrain for the grand prix and testing the week before.

so now, you’re twiddling your thumbs as you sit in your boyfriend’s driver room, both anxious to see him before his testing session begins and hoping he’ll be occupied on the pit wall for just a little longer so you can figure out how to keep your composure once he changes into his race suit.

“you’re still here?” it comes out like half an exclamation and half a question as lando slips into the room.

“you haven’t even gone out on the track, of course i’m still here,” you giggle when he pulls you into his arms and starts pressing kisses all over your face. “i can’t wait to see you put the car through its paces. oscar looked pretty good out there.”

“i’d rather put you through your paces,” he mumbles in your ear, and you smack his shoulder.

“maybe later, if you’re not too tired.”

“i’m never too tired for you.” he winks and kisses your nose before turning to change.

you have no shame in ogling his ass out of the corner of your eye as he does so, but for the most part you’re looking at updates from the first session on your phone until he sits down next to you to put his shoes on.

those damn fireproofs.

they hug his body a little too nicely. the muscles in his chest, back, and arms are perfectly defined courtesy of the tight material. you can’t even think about his shoulder to waist ratio without feeling a little dizzy with desire.

“you’re drooling,” he teases as he stands back up, the both of you knowing damn well that he loves it when you stare at him.

“i can’t help it, you’re too hot.” you’ve never had a problem with telling him just how fine he is, especially because your praise always manages to make him blush and that just makes him impossibly more attractive.

“how am i supposed to let you leave this room?” you complain, wrapping your arms around his torso.

he buries his red face in your shoulder. “the sooner i leave, the sooner i come back and show you a good time.”

“i thought you were taking me out to dinner.”

“that’s what i was talking about,” his tone is dripping in faux innocence, and you know he’s messing with you when you feel him kiss your neck. “good to know where your priorities lie, though.”

you open your mouth to patronize him, but you’re cut off when he squeezes your hips, causing you to yelp. “you are impossible.”

“hmm, good thing you love me so much then.” you can hear his smile as he speaks, and you run your hands across his back, feeling every ridge of muscle through the material of the fireproofs.

your phone starts buzzing in your pocket— the alarm you’d set to remind yourself of when he needed to get in the car. “alright,” you reluctantly separate yourself from him, taking one last lingering look at his figure before he pulls the other half of his race suit on. “i’ll stay for an hour or two and meet you back at the hotel, okay?”

“what dress are you wearing tonight?” he asks as he holds the door open for you.

“the papaya one,” you smirk, and he groans, dragging a hand through his hair.

“you’re gonna kill me, baby.”

note: i wrote most of this at 2 am in a purely feral state and did the bare minimum in editing because i’m drowning in schoolwork so apologies if it’s a bit rough!! mclaren posted a 10 second video of lando and oscar walking around and that was all it took.

lowercase is intentional because i wrote entirely on mobile!

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

reblogs are always appreciated <33

beautiful dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @emmma232 @lieswithoutfairytales @valisjustvaleria @bwormie @meribfox @xfuckoffx @rai-scutum @clara760-blog @reptaysgf @harryismysworld @caz-93 @positiveaspirations @satanfinalgirl @ln4lova @crazymofo-96 @x-d1vine @anedpev

[littlejuicebox]

My Sun, My Moon

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3 / Part 2 to my other fic Astarion talks in his sleep. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / In game spoilers / Alludes to sexual encounters / Mentions of past trauma etc / Pretty much all fluff / It’s so sweet it’s going to rot your teeth Word Count: 2.3K Notes: This is 5/5 Days of "Star-mas!"

*takes a bow* Happy Holidays! Hope you all enjoyed!

I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "twinkling lights."

Click here to see my master list.

-----

After Astarion’s sleep-talking gave away his little secret, you’d spent nearly every waking moment anticipating the rogue’s proposal. You were horribly, terribly wrong every time, of course. You began to think that perhaps your original assumptions were right, and that an engagement would come much later on. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready. Maybe he was just planning and thinking about the future… the frustratingly distant future. He’d ask the question when he was ready, you reasoned; in his own time and on his own terms. You could respect that.

But then, on the eve of the Netherbrain Battle’s six month anniversary, you came home to a dinner that Astarion had cooked (almost) entirely himself. Candles were lit, table settings were placed, and your lover chose an expensive wine pairing for the meal. His steak was, of course, entirely raw while yours was seasoned and cooked to perfection. You were certain you had Shadowheart to thank for your half of the meal, but you’d complimented your lover and all his efforts, nonetheless. At the end of dinner, you were quite confident that this would be the moment you’d been waiting weeks for.

“I have something to say.” Astarion murmured, lithe fingers rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he clasped it in his own.

You practically felt your soul leave your body in that moment. Oh gods, you knew what your answer would be, you knew this was coming, and yet here it was, and you were still wholly unprepared. You barely fumbled out a, “Y-yes, my love? What is it?”

“I read your mail.” Astarion responded, his eyes flooding full of guilt at the confession. He expelled a small sigh, flicking his gaze up at the ceiling and then back down to you. “Darling, I know we have been discussing this for months, but I really don’t think we should go to the Underdark. You’re getting so many outstanding offers that require you to remain in the city. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate, for god’s sakes. I know you want me to be safe from the sun… but I can’t, in good conscience, do that to you and rip you away from so many wonderful opportunities.”

“O-oh…” Your chest deflates and you catch yourself frowning for just a moment. Astarion’s brow furrows as he incorrectly interprets the cause of your sudden mood shift to be the current conversation and not the crushing disappointment you were trying to shove aside. You quickly try to move into a more neutral expression, but the rogue is already jumping into another worried explanation.

“Darling... Please hear me. I love you more than anything, and I know you better than anyone. You will not be truly happy there, of that much I am absolutely certain. These offers you’re receiving will give you multiple avenues to build the life you want…. the life we want. Imagine the good you could do with that level of influence, my love! Let me help you; I can review contracts, negotiate deals… whatever you need to ensure your success. Do not throw away so much potential on my account. I simply couldn’t live with myself if you did.”

He was right, of course. The only thing you wanted almost as much as you wanted Astarion was to continue the good work you two had been doing for Baldur’s Gate.

You sigh and nod your head, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re right, my love. I suppose it would be silly for both of us to throw away so much opportunity.”

Astarion beamed at your response before leaning over the table to plant a kiss on your lips. You smiled at the rogue when he pulled away to look at you with adoring crimson eyes. Perhaps it hadn’t been the conversation you were hoping for, but it had been a good and much needed one, nonetheless.

-----

Tonight, you and Astarion decided to take a stroll around the city. You were following the vampire’s lead, ambling around the streets as he pointed out more than a few of his old haunts. He revealed some of the difficult moments in his past as you two meandered about… more than one of the tales nearly made you cry with an overwhelm of sympathy for your lover. But you held back, knowing the elf hated eyes full of pity almost as much as he’d hated Cazador.

You noted that Astarion seemed to look back on his experience with more acceptance now. You knew, of course, that there were likely an infinite number of stories he had not yet revealed to you and perhaps never would. But you were still happy to see a bit of lightness in him as he spoke his truth. He hadn’t appeared to have one of his episodes on the entire walk, and as you pondered this, you also realized his night terrors had only occurred a handful of times this month. Such an improvement to what had been an almost daily incidence when you two originally moved in together.

Before long, you and your love arrived at the docks, where just over six months ago you’d felt as if you’d been stabbed in the gut as you watched the rays of sunlight scorch the vampire until he was forced to run for cover. But now, you two stood there hand in hand, resting in a pocket of comfortable silence. Both of you were admiring the twinkling starlight, full moon, and dark, mysterious expanse of the sea.

“The stars were so much more beautiful in the wilds… don’t you think, my sweet?” Astarion asks, his eyes filled with wistfulness as he ponders the sky.

You utter a little hum of agreement as your mind flashes to the first night in camp, when you caught Astarion reclined on his bedroll, stargazing. You turned your head to look at the rogue and remind him of the memory, but found he disappeared from your line of sight. Your vision wanders down and there he is, bent on one knee.

Oh this had to be the moment. Just when you were about to shout yes before the rogue even had a moment to say anything, Astarion looks up and smiles, a small pouch of gold coins in his hand. “Look! I suppose it’s our lucky day, darling. Their loss is our gain, would— are you alright, Tav? You’ve got this strange look on your face.”

Gods, not again. You feel your face flush with embarrassment. In your excitement and overwhelm, you’d almost ruined everything and let Astarion know that you knew his little secret. You made the decision then and there that this would be the last time you anticipated his proposal; let it happen when it’s meant to happen. You were done playing the guessing game. You couldn’t ruin everything with your big fat mouth.

You nod your head slightly before turning to look back at the stars once more, taking a deep breath and hoping to settle yourself.

“Yes, my love. I suppose I’m just thrilled by the beauty of the stars and the full moon, tonight. And by your beauty, of course.”

The rogue stands up, tucking the small sachet in his pocket. He smiles and places a soft, loving peck on the apple of your cheek before wrapping his arm around your waist. The two of you look up at the stars once more, and you spend a few moments pointing out some constellations in the sky. Stargazing had been one of the first things you two bonded over in camp.

Astarion is watching you with devoted interest as you ramble on about the planets and the mythological creatures represented by the patterns in the stars. Finally, there is a small lapse in conversation, and you want to take the opportunity to kiss him, but when you turn, the vampire is once again out of your sight line.

When you look down this time, Astarion is looking up at you, holding a velvet box in shaking hands.

“Tav—" He manages to choke out, but then his eyes fill with tears, and he stops to blink them away, chuckling softly at himself. You immediately come to kneel in front of your love, hands pressed to either side of his face, silently urging him to continue.

The vampire inhales shakily, suddenly quite overwhelmed by the extreme vulnerability he knows he’s about to lay before you. But the softness of your hands on his face grounds him in the moment and he smiles, admiring the look of utter adoration in your eyes.

A couple of tears fall over the edge of his lash line, and you immediately swipe them away with your shaking thumb. Another chuckle escapes the silver-haired elf, and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“My love… I’ve rehearsed this for weeks. I’ve said it all out loud more than a thousand times, I’m sure. I’ve spent almost every opportunity in your absence practicing this. One time I even had Shadowheart pretend to be you while I rehearsed my grand speech. But now that we are here… I’ve nearly forgotten everything I wanted to say.”

You move forward to press a kiss to Astarion’s lips, your hands still shaking as you run your thumb over his cheekbone. “It’s okay, my Star. Please continue, when you’re ready… rehearsed or from the heart… I want to hear it all the same.”

Astarion nods just a fraction and inhales. The shaking hand that is not holding the ring box comes to lay atop your own hand resting on his face. Your love slowly, absently runs his thumb along the back of your palm as he gathers his thoughts. He stares into your eyes with so much love that you almost kiss him again but hold yourself back to allow him to continue.

Astarion exhales a shuddering breath and then continues in a reverent tone, as if he’s whispering a prayer, “My darling. I have lived long life. Much of it was a sad and hopeless one. When we were walking through the city, I pointed out several places where I’d encountered horrible things. Many of those things are still hard to talk about… some of it, I don’t know that I will ever be able to.”

You are crying now, from the overwhelming blend of sympathy for your little Star and palpable feeling of love in this beautiful moment. Tears begin coursing thin streams down your cheeks. Astarion wipes away the tears as they fall, though his lips start trembling from your display of emotion.

“B-but what I do know is that… in many of the places I pointed out, there are also memories of us. Of our friends. Of the time we spent together before saving the city and of the six months we’ve spent here after that. Little by little, we are taking places that only held horrible memories for me and turning them into places that hold feelings of hope and happiness.

I guess what I’m saying is that… these past six months have been the counterweight to two hundred years of misery. And I do not think I deserve you, but I cannot imagine my life without you. You are everywhere I go, everywhere I look, and every happy memory I hold in my heart. If you’ll have me… I would like to spend the rest of our lives, however long they may be, turning this city into a place of hope for us and for the people we hold dear.”

Astarion opens the box, and you gasp in true awe as he reveals possibly the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. At the center is a beautiful moonstone, emitting an ethereal glow that shines brilliantly in the darkness of the pier. The setting is gold, and an intricate sunburst pattern made in smaller gems surrounds the center stone.

“Standing on the dock that day, after that long battle… I had the thought that my life was ruined when I realized I could no longer stand in the sun. I thought I might never know true happiness again. But it turns out, that was the moment my new life with you began… and you’ve opened the door to more happiness than I could’ve ever imagined for myself.

Even if I never see the sun again, I have made my peace. I would make the choices I made to be here with you, on this dock, in this moment, again and again in every lifetime. You are my sun and my moon. And my darling, it would be my honor to be your Star for the rest of time. Tav… will you marry me?”

As soon as the question comes out of your lover’s lips, you instantly push forward to crash into Astarion, enveloping the elf in an emotional kiss. You both topple over from the sheer force of your ardor, and as you do, the vampire deftly snaps the ring box closed to protect it from spilling out onto the dock.

When you finally break away, panting heavily, both your faces are thoroughly flushed with excitement. The vampire looks up at you, scarlet eyes filled with absolute devotion. You giggle and press one more soft kiss to the rouge before taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to his knuckle. “Yes, Astarion. Nothing in this life would make me happier than to share it with you.”

-----

Later that evening, the two of you are naked in bed after several rounds of vigorous celebration. You’re admiring your ring, which is still faintly glowing in the semi-darkness of your bedchambers. Astarion takes your hand and presses his lips to the ring with a small smile; his scarlet eyes closely examine the gem.

“I don’t know how it works… you would have to ask Gale. But the center stone glows when I think of you, you know.”

You blink, moving to touch the gemstone in the middle of the ring with curiosity. “But it hasn’t stopped glowing since we’ve been on the docks.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we’ve been on the docks.” Astarion replies simply, moving his hand to stroke your cheek as a gentle, good-natured laugh escapes his mouth, “Perhaps now you’ll have some insight into how often my thoughts revolve around you, my sweet.”

You feel your eyes welling with tears again. Damn this man and his beautiful heart… he truly never misses a detail when it comes to you. You move forward to pull his lips into another loving kiss, and when you break away this time, a thought crosses your mind.

“Astarion… did you really find that bag of coins on the dock?”

Your lover grins mischievously, his crimson eyes crinkling at the corners as he grabs your ring-clad hand and kisses it once more.

“No, my sweet. But I had to throw you off. Shadowheart told me about my mishap. I wanted to surprise you… but you know me far too well and you’ve never been easily fooled… and the sleepy confession didn’t help things at all. I just figured that you would never anticipate that I’d drop down on one knee twice in a row.”

Astarion knew you just as well as you knew him… and he had been right. He’d fooled you. You roll your eyes and chuckle as the rogue moves closer to you, nuzzling into the side of your neck where fresh fang marks throbbed.

“Now what do you say, darling? One more round of celebration before we go to bed?”

[zyonsay]

Js came back from a mental health break to see ZYON REQS OPEN !!! How about a Loscar x male reader smut? I don't know if you write for Logan Sargeant since you don't have him in your list so— 😭 if not you can change the driver to Lando I don't mind, but the three of them are drunk and playing drunk truth or dare and things take a turn - 🔥

I dare you LN4&OP81

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: A game of truth or dare between you, Lando and Oscar takes a turn...

Reader: Male

Warnings: Suggestive, NSFW, Dude-bro language, Horsegirl-ified reader because i said so

Now playing: 'Runway Walk' by Demrick

AN: Hey there! i FINALLY finished this and icl, not my best work. BUT i hope y'all can still enjoy this!

Loud chants echoed through the dimly lit bar. Your team members had picked you up and were now parading you around. The bar only had limited access to your equipe of elite show riders, a few close associates along with other familiar faces. Apparently, it was your lucky day, because your best friend finally had time to celebrate one of your many wins with you. Lando and yourself had been friends since diaper times and stuck together ever since. Even though you both were inseparable, your careers were demanding and didn’t offer you much time to hang out. He was now a rising F1 star, and you fought your way into prestigious show arenas, your schedules were now filled with training, media appointments and various other events. But, whenever you did find time to catch up, you always had a good time together. Not so recently he had introduced you to his teammate, and “friend”, Oscar. He’s a sweet guy, his smile felt like a little piece of sunshine and the swoop in his hair reminded you of gentle waves in the ocean. The chemistry between Lando and Oscar was kind of obvious, but you didn’t want to assume anything. That was until Lando had drunkenly admitted to his situationship.

The loud music boomed trough the doors as you stumbled out into the cold night air. Coordinating your wobbly legs while giggling uncontrollably was difficult. Very difficult. Lando had noticed your struggles and wrapped an arm around your waist while dragging you to the nearest bench. Maybe if you were sat, you wouldn’t fall on your face. A soft breeze blew trough the city and a slight shiver ran down your spine. It wasn’t actually cold, just refreshing enough. Lando had also sat down by now and leaned his head back while closing his eyes. Your gaze flickered to him, the street lanterns painted the contours of his face in orange hues. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the poetic mood you’ve found yourself in, but now felt like the right time to tell him how you feel. You’ve always loved him, but you were also scared of telling him, or anyone for that matter. Besides. You two had very busy lives and barely got to see each other, so how would a relationship work out? But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. Not when he was looking so beautiful. How do you say this? How do you confess your feelings without sounding like an absolute idiot. Gathering all your courage, your lips parted, and the first word was ready to leave them. “Y/n. I gotta tell you something.”, his eyes were still closed, and his head was still leant back. A frustrated sigh fell from his figure, and he shifted his seat. Now he was looking at you, God, those beautiful eyes. They were so sincere and looked like a fresh margarita at the beach. “I- “, his gaze avoided your own for a second before his eyes darted up to yours again. “I think I might be into men. Like in a gay way.” That was the most bro-dude way to say that, but it sure suits him. A small smile crept onto your face. “Thanks for trusting me.”, you grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Coming out to anyone is difficult, especially when you can’t predict how they’ll react. This was worth a lot to you.

“…and I sort of have a thing going right now,” Shit. SHIT. What? If it is some random dude, you swore to yourself that- “with Oscar.” Your brain must’ve short circuited right then and there. Your expression must’ve given your shock away, because Lando looked really worried all of a sudden. “…you okay mate?”, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. Quickly, you need to react, otherwise he’ll think you’re a weirdo. “Yeah, totally.”, you gulped, “I just didn’t expect you to start something with your teammate.” Absently, he scratched his arm. “Yeah, i gotta be careful. You know, with PR and stuff.”

Obviously, Oscar is also attending the afterparty. As much as you wanted to dislike him for getting together with your crush, he was so nice that you’d feel like an asshole. As sour as the taste in your mouth was, you were happy for them. They seem to fit together really well, and you couldn’t be mad because your best friend’s relationship is working out, that’s just rude. Nevertheless, the little touches they shared filled you with jealousy. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Just so you know, I have your favorite white with me. In case you wanna celebrate some more later.”, you could basically hear the smug smile in Lando’s voice. Tempting. Maybe you weren’t feeling so sour after all.

Without much care, you left your shoes somewhere in the hallway, while leading Oscar and Lando towards the balcony. Usually when you were travelling around for competitons, you’d rent a hotel room, since there wasn’t really any point in staying longer than you had to. But for the finale of your season, you wanted to enjoy the beautiful city, before departing again. While your Horse was being flown back to your home country, you decided to rent a holiday home. It was relatively close to the coast, so you’d hear the lively waves when opening the windows. Your thoughts were cut short by the sound of shuffling cards. More specifically, a deck of UNO cards. Wait what. Why was he shuffling an UNO deck? Where did he even get that from?

“Nah dude, put that back down.” Lando slurred while lazily swatting Oscars hands away. Disgruntled, but indifferent enough, Oscar put the deck of cards back down. “Wild idea: lets revert back to seventh grade and play truth or dare.”, Lando’s face lit up at that. In his mind, he was already going trough all the evil dares he could make you guys do. “We’re literal adults.”, Oscar deadpanned. For a moment, it looked like Lando was thinking about something. “Well, let’s make things more interesting. Every time you pick truth or won’t do the dare, you take off one clothing piece.” He held up one finger, so it was clear that you wouldn’t be stripping completely naked in seconds. That’s an awfully odd request, but with the taste of wine still lingering on your tongue, you could care less. And so, it begun.

“Y/n, truth or dare?”, his intentions were pretty clear, but you wanted to toy with him for a little. “Dare.”, you took another sip of the fourth or fifth Bottle of white wine, that you three have been passing around like biscuits. “An easy one to start with, do a handstand.” Hah, that was a piece of cake. Scrambling off the rattan lounge, you readied yourself to do a handstand against the wall. A free-standing one might be a bit too confident in your current state. With a swift motion you hurled your legs into the air and banged them against the wall, while you did your best to not flop onto the floor. Considering how dizzy you were, you did a good job. “Impressive!”, Oscar giggled. There was nothing to laugh about, the bastard was up next. “Truth or Dare, Os?”, he was quick to answer. “Dare.” Bingo. As rarely as you and Lando got to catch up, he does talk about Oscar often. This man doesn’t even know hoe much you know about him. “I dare you to whistle.”, his smile faded. He was ninety percent sure you were aware of the elephant in the room. He sighed before pulling his shirt off. “I can’t whistle.”

Admittedly, this was much more fun than you initially thought it’d be. It must’ve already been something past midnight, but you guys were chatting away on the balcony. By now, your and Oscar’s shirts and socks had gone, while Lando was barely left in his briefs. “Truth or Dare?”, Lando intently looked at you. “Dare.” Now you’ve gotten yourself stuck in his trap. “I dare you to kiss me.”, now that made you stop in your tracks. “Dude, I’m not a homewrecker.” Oscar’s hickory eyes had a playful glint in them. “I’ll allow it.”, he leant against the backing of the lounge, readjusting his seat. Your heart pounded loudly in your chest. This is what you wanted for so long, but this feels taboo. Nevertheless, you leant forward and slid a hand behind your friend’s neck. Pulling him closer your lips met his and a contempt sigh left Lando. You felt Oscars eyes on you, they were burning holes into your skull. After all you were kissing his fling right now. The world seemed as if it was melting apart into a big mess of colors, but that all stopped when Lando gently pulled away. With slightly shaky hands, you settled back into a comfortable sitting position. “Oscar.”, he hummed, “Truth or dare?” He exaggeratedly tapped his finger against his chin. “Truth.” He now looked directly into your eyes. “Why didn’t you have a problem with me kissing Lando.”, his eyes widened at your question. For a moment he seemed to think for a good answer, but instead of speaking up, he glanced over at Lando. The brit loudly gulped, it sounded almost comical, before speaking up. “So, the thing is…” His, whatever Oscar was to him, tapped him on the knee, encouraging Lando to speak up. “I like you. Like in a gay way.” Dumbfounded, you shifted your gaze from Oscar to Lando and then back again at the pale Aussie. “And you’re ok with that?!”, you pointed your finger towards Oscar. “You see, we actually wanted you to... join our relationship.” His tone was unsure, and he kept searching Lando’s gaze.

Now you were officially flabbergasted. This must be a fever dream, right? There was no way this was real right now.

Obviously, it was, because now you were sat here with Lando kissing down your neck and Oscar pressed up behind you, squeezing your thighs, hips and waist. You leant your head backwards against Oscar’s shoulder, whining quietly. You whispered sharply, “I dare you to take those damn pants off.”, while fiddling with the buckle of his belt. Oscar chuckled lightly before slipping his pants off and propping himself up behind you again. Carefully, you reached behind you and felt his hard member in your hand. With gentle motions, you began palming him as best as possible. Lando smiled against your neck, his eyes darting up to meet Oscar’s gaze. His tanned hand tugged on your underwear before swiftly slipping underneath it. You gasped at the tight feeling of his hand around your dick. Slowly but surely, he started pumping up and down, meanwhile he continued his artwork of hickeys along your neck and chest bone. Not wanting to neglect his hard cock, you wrapped your hand around it and pressed your thumb over the tip. He exhaled sharply. Oscar leaned in close to your ear. “You wanna suck them?” Stuck in an endless loop of pleasure and torture, you could only whine as a pathetic attempt at an answer.

[rooshoom]

I did it. I have Spots verbal quirks in the previous post and now you get to have Spots physical quirks and movements with some quotes from when I noticed he does them.

Poses

Terrible casual ‘guy’ poses

The arm lean, the hand on the hip, the tilted head. He is totally faking the confidence.

“I love how many of your there are!”

“It’s the place with the big collider.”

Shoulders / Arms

When he first walks into the store to rob the ATM, he has super tense shoulders. We see a lot of his stress and tension carried more in his upper body than lower body.

Lots of shrugging

Shrinks in on himself by squeezing his arms to his sides

During the flashback when he brought the spider from 42 to 1610 you can really see how much he tries to squeeze in on himself.

Slings his arms, when he throws his portals his arms fly forward very fluidly. Example when he throws the portal at Pav, Gwen and Hobie, he throws it hard enough that his upper body drops once it’s out of his hand.

Hand movements

Fingers first, if you watch the way he reaches into the ATM he doesn’t just casually reach in, he grabs things with his fingers instead of his whole hand or with his palm

Floppy hand / t-rex arm

Conveys tons of emotions through his hands, like when he is shocked he flexes his fingers open. Maybe picked up on this since he can no longer express emotion through his face.

Balled fists but likely out of nerves. Once again seen in the flashback of the spider.

Points with all of his fingers instead of just one. “You made me into this!”

Standing / walking

It seems like he only stands at full height when he’s trying to convince himself to be confident. “I am the Spot.”

Even when he’s actually confident he doesn’t stand at full height. Right before he disappears inside Pav’s collider, which you can tell by his verbal cues that he’s very confident with what he's about to do, he’s still leaned over.

Knees together, once against this man just wants to appear small.

Clumsy. “I need more spots!” Running into walls, dropping things, and twisting around corners.

Would rather stand, crouch, or stand on his knees than sit down. Look at Gwen watch him ramble to himself while building, he doesn’t sit once.

Crouches with his neck more than his back. “You’ll have a villain worth fighting for.”

Head / Face

Head tilts

Leans forward to see with face first, so lucky he has a hole right there to deflect fists because if he didn’t he would be punched in the face so fast.

When he says “wow four on there.” You can see him lean in with his face. Totally why that old lady beat him with a purse.

Literal nose tilted up attitude later in the movie. When he’s in Pav’s universe dropping scientists into portals, he has face tilted up and nodding along with how many holes he creates.

Other

I see him stim with his legs a lot, such as hopping foot to foot. “This is real.”

Just generally very fluid, watch how he falls into the portal when he yells, “I am your nemesis!” He flops into it instead of bracing for impact. He has no sense of self preservation.

He. Cannot. Fight. Watch all of his scenes and look at how loose he is. A slinky of a man.

Look at how he flails. This man would flinch if you threw a pillow at him.

Y’all, I’m absolutely encouraging you to write Spot X Reader with my lists. I’m trying to make this easy as possible, don’t think babygirl just write a bedtime story for the masses we can all peacefully drift off to. Let me spoil you with the time I spent doing this so you don’t have to.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Cowboy Resolutions

Summary: New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck with all of your friends was a tradition, one that you loved and held close to your heart. When you and your husband decide to slip away from the crowd for a late night stroll on the beach right before midnight, you realize that neither of you had the purest of intentions when it came to wanting to get away. 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.8K Warnings: Smut with a dash of fluff, including shenanigans in public. Language.

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You feel his arms wrap around you right before you hear his voice in your ear, low and husky and trying too hard to be sexy to actually be sexy. 

“Hey there darlin. How about we be naughty together and save Santa a trip next year?” 

You can’t help the snort you let out as you start laughing. Jake kisses your neck playfully before you turn in his arms to face him, chest pressed to his. You’re careful not to spill the drink you had just gotten. “If that’s how it works, I’m pretty sure we secured our spot on the naughty list on Christmas day a week ago, pretty boy.” 

He wags his eyebrows dramatically, drawing another giggle out of you. “I think you’re right, beautiful. Several times, if I remember correctly.”

“On that note, I’m going to play pool before I vomit everywhere.” 

You ignore Nat’s gag and loud proclamation; you don’t need to look at her to know that she rolled her eyes as she walked away from where the two of you had been chatting at the bar before your husband had interrupted. 

“Well they say you’re supposed to bring in the year the way you want to spend it,” you tell him, and he hums thoughtfully. 

“A year of amazing sex with my absolutely smokin’ wife? Screw the good list, where do I sign?” 

His voice gets lower the closer he brings his face to yours, and by the last word, you can feel him speak against your lips. You grin into it when he finally kisses you. Despite the fact that every regular in the bar should be used to seeing your public displays of affection after years of it, cat calls still ring out over the sound of chatter and the jukebox. You roll your eyes while you pull away, but Jake’s shameless smirk is enough to soften your smile. 

“Jealous fuckers,” he mutters, and you’ve gone through this enough to know he’s only joking. His eyebrows raise again and he lets his hand drift to slide over your butt, squeezing once through the material of your skirt. “Maybe we should really give them something to gawk out.” 

You laugh at his familiar antics and shake your head. “Down, Cowboy.”

But you know that Jake's playful nature, one that not many people get to see, is one of the things you love most about him. His ability to make even the simplest moments feel special and exciting is what keeps the flame alive in your relationship, even after all this time.  

“Aww, darlin. You’re no fun.” 

“Careful now,” you tell him, linking your fingers through his and starting to make your way through the crowd to where your friends have gathered by the pool tables. You grin at him playfully over your shoulder, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Or you won’t get any kisses at midnight.” 

The sound of Jake’s laughter was one of your favorite sounds in the whole world, and you let it surround you as you greet the group you considered family. New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck was something you had done the last two years, and with this third occurrence, you thought it was a solidified tradition amongst you all. It’s nice, being able to have those now. You and Jake have moved around a handful of times in your relationship, never in one spot for long, but San Diego is somewhere you’re so glad to actually call home now. It’s something you were unbelievably grateful for - that, and these people who continuously brought so much joy into your life. 

As the night wears on, the bar becomes increasingly crowded and lively. The music thumps through the speakers, blending with the laughter and conversations that filled the air. It’s when Bradley unplugs the jukebox and settles in at the old, worn piano by the bar that your husband links his fingers through yours, tugging lightly. You look over at him to see him tilt his head toward the general direction of the back door. You smile lightly, knowing what he’s asking without him having to utter a word, and you nod. 

As you take a break from the crowded bar and step outside into the crisp night air, Jake wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. 

“Take a walk with me?” he asks, and you murmur your assent. You know that the heeled boots you’re wearing won’t mix well with the sand, so using him as an anchor, you bend to take them off. You sigh in relief once your toes hit the sand, feeling cool and refreshing through the barrier of your socks. 

“Lead the way,” you smile. 

The moon hangs low in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the ocean.  He keeps you tucked into his side as you walk along the empty beach, the music and lights from the bar fading with every step. The chilly wind bites at your cheeks, but the warmth of the alcohol you had consumed and Jake's body keeps you cozy. If you weren’t always so in tune with his touch, you may have missed the way his hand progressively slid lower and lower on your back. 

“I feel like you didn’t have the purest intentions with this walk,” you murmur. A shiver runs through you that has nothing to do with the breeze and everything to do with the sound of his low, deep laughter. It rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your side. 

“Well, darlin’, you know me too well.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your temple. "Maybe I had a little ulterior motive," he admits, his voice laced with something.  “What do you say?” 

You giggle as he kisses down the side of your face, featherlight and intoxicating, and tugs lightly on your ear. “Here?” 

“No,” he says, “there.” 

He points, and through the darkness, you see the old lifeguard stand, unmanned this late at night, especially this far down the beach. His suggestion hangs in the air, thick with appeal and eagerness.

“Well,” you say after a brief moment of contemplation that really didn’t take long at all. You take a step away from him, your body automatically missing his warmth even as it thrummed with excitement. You shoot him a look that you know he recognizes by how his smile transforms. “I did say you should bring in the year the way you want to spend it, didn’t I?” 

You take off in a run at the same moment he reaches for you, and you squeal with laughter as he chases you right to where he pointed earlier - right to where you want him now. 

He presses you against the wooden structure once you both reach it, and without breaking stride, his lips are on yours. The kiss is slow and tantalizing at first, but soon enough, it deepens, and his tongue sweeps into your mouth in a familiar dance that leaves you breathless. He tastes like whiskey and the leftover mini candy canes you kept in your purse and your heart races. The sounds of the crashing waves and distant partying from the bar fade away as you sink into his embrace. You feel his other hand slide up your thigh, tracing slow circles on your skin. His touch is electric, making your body hum. Even the cool breeze nipping at your exposed skin isn’t enough to cool you down. 

As he pulls back, breathing heavily, you run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness of it between them. His breath comes out hot against your lips as he whispers, "I love how responsive you are to me."

His mouth descends upon yours again. His hand moves higher, cupping your breast through your sweater, his fingers teasing your nipple through the fabric. Your response is instantaneous; you arch your back and groan, completely caught up in the moment.  "How do you want it?" he asks, kisses trailing down your neck. You tilt your head to allow easier access to your throat. 

"Jake," you moan. You clutch at him, one hand in his hair and the other wrinkling the material of his flannel shirt. 

"Tell me, darlin'," he requests, commands, and you whimper as it's accompanied by a bite of your skin. "How do you want it? You want to climb up in the chair? Or you want me to take you right here against it?" 

It was hard to think with the way he was touching you and the feel of his lips on yours. But you suddenly had the undeniable urge to ride him. The added bonus of being elevated off the ground like you would be, all the while being safe in your husband’s arms, sent a chill of excitement through you. “Up,” you breathe, pushing him away just slightly. 

You’re both clumsy as you eagerly climb up onto the raised, wide seat. You hiss at the cold of the wood as your knees settle on either side of his thighs, but his touch distracts you immediately as he tugs your short skirt up to bunch at your waist, allowing you to sit on his lap more comfortably and without risk of stretching the material. You smirk for just a second before a groan tears from his throat when his fingers meets nothing but skin. 

“You forget to put something on, baby?” he husks, and you shake your head. You don’t even try to look innocent. 

“You weren’t the only one with ulterior motives, Cowboy.” 

Your hands move to his belt buckle, undoing it with practiced ease. He watches you intently as you move on to the button and zip of his jeans. He's hard under your hands and god, you want him. But you know you're not the only one. Jake groans, his hips thrusting instinctively into your touch. Your eyes flash to his and you see him biting his lip as he watches you intently, his green eyes dark with desire. You feel powerful like this, seeing the hunger there. 

You pull his erection from the denim keeping him confined. He's hard and thick, the head glistening with a bead of pre-cum. You can't resist running your hand over the smooth, velvety skin, stroking him gently. Jake's breath hitches, his eyes fluttering shut as you continue to stroke him. He keeps a hand steady on your back, ensuring your balance, but lets the other reach down between your legs. His touch brushes against your own as he goes, stroking through the liquid heat he finds. You moan softly as his fingers find their way inside you, matching the rhythm of your hand on him. His thumb swipes across your sensitive clit, sending a jolt of need through you. You gasp, your other hand pulling at the back of his head, drawing him closer. 

"Jake, please," you beg, arching into his touch. He pulls his hand away from you just long enough to position himself at your entrance. He drags his cock through your wetness, coating himself. He's hard and ready, and you can't wait any longer. "Please." 

He doesn't need any further encouragement as he slowly enters you, stretching you open in the best way. You cry out in pleasure, your head falling back as you feel him deep inside you. 

"God, you feel so good," he whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin. Like you want to prove to him that you can be even better, you lift yourself off of him slowly, sinking back down as he moans. "That's my girl." 

His muscles tense under your touch, urging you on, and you oblige without hesitation. His hands keep a firm grip on your waist as you set a steady rhythm. Your thighs burn deliciously from the exertion, but you don’t mind, leaning forward to capture his lips. It's a frenzied tangle of tongues and teeth, while his hips buck upward into yours. The feel of him inside you is exhilarating, driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Your hands twine in his hair, pulling his head back just enough so you can look into his eyes. They're lust-filled and dark, mirroring the emotions swirling within you. 

"Harder," you pant. 

"Fuck, baby," he growls as he speeds up his pace. He thrusts into you harder, each hit sending ripples of pleasure through you. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you press closer to him. He hits that spot inside of you that only he can reach and the stars that dot your vision aren't from the sky above you. 

"Yes, oh, fuck. Jake!" He finds it again and your muscles clench. "I'm going to come," you gasp, and Jake's answering groan lets you know that he's close, too. 

"Come for me, darlin'," he chants, his voice low and raspy, commanding you to give in to the feeling. 

His words send you over the edge, and your scream of his name is cut off with his mouth surging to meet yours - you had nearly forgotten that you were outside. Your orgasm ripples through you, your body trembling under the waves of pleasure. You feel him give one, two, three more thrusts before he’s falling over, too. His cum is hot as it fills you and you can’t help but moan into his kiss at the sensation - there was nothing quite like it.

He pulls back once breathing becomes an issue. You're both panting and breathless. He takes your face in his hands, the roughness of his fingertips a long-formed comfort. You just stare for a few moments, letting your heart rates settle. 

"Hell of a way to end the year," he finally murmurs, voice filled with warm affection. 

You can't pass up the opportunity he's given you considering the current circumstances, raising an eyebrow playfully. "With your cum inside of me?" 

He huffs out a laugh, but you feel his cock twitch inside of you nonetheless. “The best way to do it.” 

You hum in response and grab his wrist, twisting it to get a look at his watch. 11:52. 

"If we hurry we can probably make it back to the Hard Deck in time for midnight," you tell him, though you're in no rush to move. Jake shrugs a shoulder, and it's enough to tell you that he isn't, either. You smile at him softly, leaning forward for another kiss. After another minute or two, you gently disentangle yourself from each other. Jake tucks himself back into his pants as you pull your skirt down. The raised wooden structure is really not comfortable for either of you now that you weren't completely caught up in your lust. He climbs down from the chair first and keeps a protective hand on you as you make your way down after him. 

Instead of moving to walk back to the bar, though, you settle together in the sand. Your back is to his chest and his arms are wrapped firmly around you. His chin is tucked into your shoulder and you watch the waves gently lapping in the ocean as you sit in a peaceful, comforting silence. 

“Any resolutions this year?” he eventually asks. You feel his breath against your neck and goosebumps erupt over your skin. You hope you never stop reacting to him this way. 

“Hmmm. None yet. You?”

“Already did it,” he says nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrow and your twist your neck to look at him. 

“What?”

His smirk grows and his green eyes twinkle with mischief. “Guarantee myself on the naughty list for Santa next year, obviously.” 

You smack his arm right as the fireworks start going off, and his laughter is masked by the sound. There are bursts of every color you could imagine appearing in the sky, and you let yourself get distracted by the display until your husband nudges you gently. 

When your eyes meet his this time, the look on his face is softer. It’s a look he only ever has for you, full of love and adoration, and despite how long you’ve been together, you feel butterflies erupt in your tummy as it washes over you. He tilts your chin up with a gentle hand. It’s the sweetest kiss you had exchanged all night, nothing more than a light brush of his lips against yours. Your nose brushes against his as, for a moment, you just breathe the other in. 

“Happy New Year, darlin’,” Jake finally whispers, and his words taste sweet against your lips. 

“Happy New Year, Jake.” 

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Notes: Happy (almost) New Year everyone! Finishing off the trifecta of holiday fics with The Blonde One™️ just felt right. Thanks for reading! Likes/comments/reblogs are the kindest.

Special thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all of their help as always, and for Mak for making the dreamiest banners.

Main Masterlist

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 65

part 1 | part 64 | ao3

cw: angst, weed

Eddie reaches out then stops, hand hovering just above Steve’s knee, something like panic in the tremor of his wrist. “Steve, for real, man, please let me—”

“No, you for real, man.” Seriously? Man? As if there aren't so many more important things to discuss right now. Steve squeezes his eyes shut and pinches his nose, the voice of an old swim coach ringing in his ear. Game time, Harrington, c’mon, where’s your head?

“Look,” Steve sighs, fingers clenching around his shin. “We can talk about... this," he gestures between the two of them, "later. Let’s just— Important stuff only for right now, okay?” 

Eddie’s breath shakes when he answers. “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Cool.”

“Good.” 

This is somehow worse than silence.

Steve shakes his head, tries to focus through the fog of awkward energy. Important things. Important.

Like, how about ‘what were you doing with a pretty girl in my fucking trailer?’ for starters, or maybe—

Oh, fuck. 

Steve looks sharply at Eddie. “Why were you asking if I was real?”

Eddie stares back in silence, eyes huge, bottom lip trembling as Steve presses into his space; drops his voice, brings a hand up to wrap around Eddie’s arm — just above his elbow, soft leather and warm muscle shivering under the touch. God. Please. Not him, too. “Eddie. Did you— did you see something? Are you…?”

“No,” Eddie shudders. “No, sorry, just, uh—” He shakes his head with a grimace, a shrill sound spilling out, some frantic braying thing that might have counted as a laugh if his face wasn’t doing that. “Pretty goddamn sure I’m just losing my mind after seeing the— the fucking—”

His palm floats up to the ceiling in a wobbly zig-zag, looseleaf drifting to the classroom carpet in reverse, then he clenches his fist and lets it explode open with a ‘boom,’ the sound effect ruined by another strangled laugh. “Oh, my god,” he giggles. Humorless, horrified, nervous system overwhelm. His entire arm is shaking. “Oh, shit, oh, Jesus Christ, Steve, Chrissy’s—”

“Hey.” Steve tightens his grip on Eddie’s arm; waits for Eddie to take a breath, gasping and wet. “We can’t think about it, alright?”

Eddie’s voice cracks miserably. “That’s not fucking fair to her.”

“I know.” Steve loosens his hold; smooths his palm over the leather sleeve; wonders who he’s really trying to soothe. “I know. But we can’t— if what you and Dustin said is true, if it’s really some— some monster that hurt Chrissy, that’s trying to hurt us? We can’t grieve yet, okay? We can’t give him an opening to attack. We need a game plan.”      

Eddie exhales like he’s trying to mimic an owl. “Okay,” he nods eventually, slapping his thighs as he stands up. “Okay. Game plan. Yeah. Shit. Games and sports and plans and…” 

He trails off, mouth moving around mumbled gibberish as he wiggles his fingers and drums on himself, hands slipping up his torso, tongue over his top lip. He pats his front pocket. “Oh, hell yeah, baby.” Whirling to face Steve, he slips his forefinger and thumb into the narrow pouch and pulls out the Altoids tin where he keeps his pre-roll stash. “How’s this for a game plan?”

—

part 66

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[fettuccin-e]

Leave It Like A Brand

Kinktober Day 1: Love Marks

Tags: Matt Murdock x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (wrap that shit irl fuck them kids), Matt's filthy mouth, secret relationship, a massive amount of hickeys like it's a lot (w/c: 885)

A/N: Happy Kinktober to all who celebrate! I am going to make a concerted effort to complete it this year, and I will be doing it with plenty of different characters. The absolutely amazing @flightlessangelwings has created this kinktober prompt list that I'll be following, so if you'd like to see a certain prompt with a certain character, let me know! I hope everyone enjoys the fact that I kicked off this lovely month with our dear Matty.

It’s like he can’t control himself when he’s got you like this. 

No one is supposed to know, he’s supposed to leave no evidence, and yet, when you’re squirming beneath him like this, slick with sweat and begging him to fuck you deeper, harder, faster, Matt just can’t fucking help it. He leans down and sucks dark, dark marks into the soft skin of your neck. Maybe they’ll fade by tomorrow, he thinks, and Foggy and Karen won’t notice at all. You and Matt will go back to being friends, colleagues, and no one will be ever the wiser.

He tries to tamp down the slight disappointment, the longing that grows in his chest.

You curl your fingers into his hair, panting as he bites marks into your skin. You can’t be doing this with him, it’s been going on far too long. Falling into his bed, night after night. What would your friends say if they knew?  You don’t even know what this thing you’ve created with Matt even is, nor does Matt.

But God, he feels so good. Fucking into you so deep, warm and heavy on top of you as he sucks bruises into your skin. Like a brand, you think, like ownership. You want him to own you, in so many ways. 

“Matt, oh my god,” you gasp as he sinks his teeth into your pulse point, relishing in the sound of your heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“You like that, sweetheart?” He mutters against you, his voice dark in your ear, like pure unadulterated sin. He drives his hips further into yours, pressing the tip of his cock into the little spot inside you that makes you claw desperately at his back.”You like me marking you up like this? You like having my cock so deep?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, Matt- oh please,” you throw your head back into the soft silk pillows, and Matt growls, dragging his teeth down your neck before biting savagely on your collarbone. He hikes your thighs up further around his hips, your back pressing into the mattress as he pounds furiously into your needy pussy. And god, the way you scream for him feels like heaven in and of itself.

You’re getting close, he can tell. He always can. It’s in the way you’re practically gasping for air, your hips twitching to meet him thrust for thrust, trying to work yourself over that peak. Your skin is slick with sweat, salty on his tongue.

“You going to cum for me, beautiful? Make a mess all over me? You’re so fucking tight around me, baby-” he gasps as you clench hard around him, practically strangling him as he fucks into you. “Wish I could do this all the time, gorgeous. Want to be in this pussy all the fucking time.”

Your back arches off the bed when he takes a hand off your thigh to press a mean thumb into your clit, rubbing quick circles into it and making you feel like you’re going to fly off the bed. “Fuck!” you practically scream, lurching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “‘S too much, fuck it’s too much, I’m gonna-”

“Fucking cum for me, angel.”

And you do. God, you do, your cunt squeezing around his cock, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, as you gasp soundlessly, like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Your pussy gushes around him, sticky and wet and dripping down him. Your scent invades his nose, makes his head spin in a way that no one else ever has. Your hips buck up involuntarily as he fucks you through it.

“That’s it, baby, good girl,” he murmurs against your lips. “My good fucking girl, take what you need.”

“Need you to cum, Matty, please,” you whine. You work your hips against him in an obscene little circle that makes him feel more animal than man. His cock throbs.

“Fuck, yes-” he gasps, hunching over you, clutching your thigh tight enough that it will leave bruises there, too. Bruises that only he will see, the ones that no one else will ever see. Just you and him.

“Cum deep, please-oh fuck, Matt,” you whisper, before you bite ruthlessly into the hard tendon in the crook of his neck, deep enough that it must be painful, that it’s absolutely going to leave a mark on his skin. Your brand, your ownership.

He growls at the sting, his cock twitching as he finally floods your pussy with his cum. It feels like heaven incarnate, claiming you in the purest way he can.

As you both settle, chests heaving against each other, he tugs a sheet over you both. He hears your heartbeat steady and tries to match his with yours, tracing the bruises he left on your skin. You trace the bite mark on his neck.

“Little too warm for a scarf, don’t you think?” you murmur.

“Hm?” He tugs you closer, nuzzling into your hair.

“I’m just saying,” you say, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Don’t think I can hide these marks from Fog and Karen anymore, so why even try? Might be time to come clean.”

“Mm, you’re right,” he smiles against your mouth. “Does this count as permission to leave even more of them?”

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

candle light with remus lupin for your eclipse event! maybe something where he's mean but also does good good aftercare? LUV UR WRITIING <3

thank youuu, and thank you for requesting! really hope you like it!!

pairing: Remus Lupin x reader tags / warnings: established relationship, smut (NSFW, MDNI), fluff word count: 3k part of my 1k celebration!

You are exhausted. You’re tense; you’re tired as you come home after what’s felt like a  week, not a day. Too much to do, too much pressure, too many decisions. You feel them in your body, weighing you down. The first thing you do as you enter your bedroom you share with Remus is strip down to your knickers. You toss your bra away with perhaps a little bit too much resentment and find your favourite of Remus’s jumpers you like to borrow. It’s too big on either of you.

You head to your kitchen, putting on a record so sad it’s somehow consoling as you do. As you start making yourself a comforting cup of tea, you hear the door behind you. 

“Hi, lovely.” 

It’s his voice that’s lovely, and just the sound of it has already begun thawing your tension. 

“Hey,” you say back as you feel him approach behind you, his arms coming around your middle. They’re warm and firm, and you sink back into his body. You feel him breathe in your hair, kiss the side of your head. “Remus,” you whine into him. He hums into your neck in response, placing a soft kiss there. His squeezes you tightly, his hands bunching up the jumper you’re wearing. “Hmm. Sad music, cosy jumper, earthy tea, whiny voice,” he lists sympathetically. “Someone’s had a long day.”

“You’ve no idea.” His large hands come to your shoulders, kneading deeply. You squirm at the intensity, pain and pleasure dancing inextricably. At a knot a bit too sensitive for his ministrations, you flinch out of his grasp and step back, turning to face him. You expect to be met by his beguiling brown eyes, but they’re look down. His head cocks to the side appreciatively. You realize he’s admiring your bare legs and chuckle. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.” “Doesn’t mean I like it any less,” he retorts, voice gruffer. He looks you up and down with an intensity that dissipates any playfulness in your mood. You realize how badly you want him to take you, to make you leave the day behind you and completely envelop you in the here and now… and the pleasure it could hold. 

Remus can’t read your mind, though, and being the doting boyfriend he is, he comes to hold you gently again, stroking your back, trying to comfort you. “Let’s get you relaxed, huh, baby?” he says, kissing your forehead. “Yeah,” you whisper.

“What do you want to do? Want to go straight to bed? Watch something? We could read together? Same book or different, you choose.” He’s already taken over preparing your tea, seemingly completely distracted away from your body. 

His suggestions and demeanour make you think maybe he’s not in the mood, Remus never being shy to tell you when he is, so you worry maybe it’s not the best moment to voice your honest desires. 

“I don’t know, whatever; you choose.” You sound a bit defeated, and he looks over at you at your tone. “No, you should. I’m happy with anything if it’s good for you, really,” he says as he turns back to the easy work of pouring the hot water. He’s always this sweet, almost always defers to doing whatever you feel like doing. 

It’s no fault of his, but your looming tiredness, your sudden heat, it all makes you snappy. “I said I don’t care, Rem. Why do I always have to be the one to choose everything? Sometimes I’m tired, okay? And I already said you can choose.” The mugs are forgotten, his attention fully on you at this. “Woah, what’s up?” He leans back on the counter, arms crossed a bit defensively, but eyes all concern. 

“Nothing,” you sigh. “Nothing, I’m sorry.” You turn away and busy yourself with anything you can find, tidying up mindlessly. “Hey, c’mon, love, what’s up?” His voice is slightly harder, and as he asks, he turns you to face him, his hands firmly holding your shoulders. His eyes look searchingly into yours, but your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his hands on you and the sound of his deep voice. You bite your lip and whimper very very softly.

His hands immediately leave you, and it’s urgent when he rushes out, “Woah, did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to, baby; I just wanted to talk. You alright?”

You nod and whine “Remus” again, stepping toward him and looking into his eyes. You grab his hands in yours and place them back on your body. You bring one to your face and lean into it, put the other on your hip and squeeze your hand over his. 

He’s watching you closely, letting you guide him. 

His proximity and his touch, even like this, heat you up, and your body pushes you to honesty.

“I don’t want to sleep, or  read, or any of that. And I don’t want to choose anything or think about anything else. I want you, Rem. I just want you. Please.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and ever so slowly he starts moving his own hands on you, yours still hovering above them. 

His touch makes you melt, and your eyes shut. You exhale loudly as his hand grabs your face a bit harder. His thumb strokes, pushing into the skin of your cheek. You open your eyes and meet his. They’re looking at yours searchingly, but upon seeing the look you’re giving him when they connect with yours, something clicks in Remus. You register it in his eyes as they shift in what seems like one blink from keen observation to piercing intensity. 

He pulls your face to his forcefully, devouring your mouth. He’s eating up your immediate whimpers, tilting your head with his hands on either side of your face, pushing your tongue with his and licking into your mouth. You surrender completely and let him guide your ardent kiss. 

Soon, his hand juts your head back with no warning, tugging your hair, and his mouth moves from yours to your jaw, kissing sloppily until he reaches your neck, where he plants a cruel bite. You yelp, and he licks over it soothingly, but his voice is rough as he asks, “This what you want?” His mouth sucks your neck harshly, and his hands push under your jumper and grip the flesh of your hips so hard your body sways with his motions. 

“Fuuuck, Rem, yes, pleeease.” “Yes what?” he snaps. “Yes, I want this. I want you to touch me like this.” 

“Good,” he utters matter-of-factly. 

He tugs the jumper over your head and throws it aside then maneuvers your body with his strong hands on your hips. 

“Turn around,” he commands. And you do, though his hands flip you without your having much say in it. 

His arms wrap around you, and he kneads your breasts roughly. He handles you so harshly that you yelp again in pleasured pain. 

Remus presses his body up behind your now almost completely naked one. You feel his breath on your neck and shoulder, and you shiver as sensation shoots down your spine. You’re very pleasantly surprised to also feel his already hard cock on your arse even through his trousers. You push back into it and grind. He groans in reaction then chuckles gruffly into your ear. 

“Fuck, you’re desperate, huh?” He squeezes your tits and thrusts his hips. His voice low and ominously even, he tells you, “You know, baby, all you had to do was tell me you wanted me to fuck you.” You whimper; he chuckles again. “Yeah? You want to get fucked, pretty girl?” You nod wordlessly. “I wanted to fuck you as soon as I came in here and saw your gorgeous thighs.” Never breaking contact with your skin, his hands slide down your body and squeeze the outsides of your thighs. Then they cup your arse and squeeze even tighter, jiggling it in his rough grip. “You looked so fucking sexy. But I thought you were tired. Silly me, huh, not realizing how you wanted me to take care of you. This how you want me to take care of you?” 

“Yees.” “Hmm.” 

Your head is lolled back on his shoulder, but he pushes you suddenly forward. “Bend over.” You do. The kitchen counter is cold on your tits; his hand is hot on your back, pushing you down. 

His other hand yanks your knickers down and rubs roughly through your folds. You’re soaked. “Dirty girl,” he chuckles. “Wanting to get fucked this badly.”

Without ado, he pushes two fingers into you. You scream at the breach, at the first hot graze of your inner walls. He rubs them around then curves them toward your sweet spot. His pace is immediately punishing, and it’s not too many thrusts later that he adds a third finger. Your cunt is squelching as his fingers fuck you. His hand on your back moves up toward your neck and massages your shoulder as he holds you in place.

He keeps going, pushing so hard the fronts of your thighs smack the counter with each thrust, so fast that it’s hard to discern the increasing shaking of your thighs from the motions of his hand.

You whine, and turn your face into the counter to quiet it. His hand at your neck yanks your hair to lift your face. “Uh-uh, pretty thing. I’ve had enough of you being quiet tonight. If I’m going to fuck you this good, you’re going to let me hear how I make you feel.” You whimper involuntarily, doing nothing to filter your loud reaction. “Better.”

Your thighs are seriously shaking now, and you’re tightening deliciously. You’re getting close. 

His hand stops and pulls out of you, the other also releasing his grip on your hair. Your resulting whine sounds almost like you’re crying. 

“Fuck, baby, relax,” Remus laughs. You hear the zipper of his trousers, hear the soft pat of clothes falling to the floor. His foot kicks yours into a wider stance suddenly. Then you feel his hard cock prodding at your warm, wet entrance. One of his hands grips your hip harshly as he guides himself in. He’s slightly slower as he does, but he pushes all the way in without stopping. When he’s completely inside you, you whimper again at the fullness and barely hear him whisper “fuck.” 

Just a second later, he’s thrusting; a few seconds later, it’s already rocking your entire body from the intensity. His grip tightens, and you know you’ll admire a bruise there tomorrow. His other hand grabs your shoulder for better leverage as he pistons in and out of you. 

You’d already been so close that at the fucking he’s giving you, you feel close to the brink before even adjusting entirely to the position. Your hands flat on the counter, uselessly attempting to grip something, give you some stability as your body spasms jarringly. 

“Fuck, already?” Remus pants. His tone seems sincerely surprised, not teasingly so. 

He moves his hand to your other hip, vice-like grip pulling your arse onto his body in time with each fast, forward thrust of his hips. 

He’s the one to moan loudly this time as your walls clench him. His prolonged moan sounds like it’s strangled in his throat as you clench again and again, but though it’s clearly wrecking him, the only effect on his pace is its increased brutality. 

You start cumming in earnest, crying through it, shaking hard. Remus fucks you through most of it, but toward the very end, you feel him pull all the way out quickly, the absence jarring and gaping. His fingers pick up what his cock was just doing, and the sudden re-intensity gives you a second peak. He keeps going until your clenching cunt has mostly relaxed then slowly removes his fingers. 

Your body feels heavy and limp, its only movement the harsh up and down of your heavy panting. When Remus’s hands maneuver you to lift your torso and turn you around, you’re very little help. You feel unstable on your legs, but Remus safely holds you up. “Why’d you —” you start, your voice an exhausted whisper.

“Shut up,” he says, words hard, tone soft. He’s panting too, looking sweaty and spent. “Jump.” You’re confused, but your body heeds his command as his hands lift your arse up till you’re sitting on the counter. His hands grab the backs of your thighs and lift them up and out. You fall back slightly at the shift and end up resting on your forearms looking up at him. You rest your foot on the counter when his hand drops your leg so he can use it to guide himself back inside you.

He slips in easily but takes a moment to settle once he does. His eyes closed, chin lifted, chest rising and falling heavily. He looks so beautiful. 

When he’s gathered himself, he shifts as close to you as he can and guides you up toward him too. Your legs wrap around his waist, your arms support you as you hold on to the counter’s edge. His support you, too, wrapped around your waist.  

His forehead comes to yours, and he kisses you sloppily as his hips start thrusting again, more slowly this time. One arm still anchoring you, his other hand comes to your face, holding it as he keeps kissing you. His breathing picks up again as his hips do.

Face still close to yours, he confesses, “I know you wanted it rough, but I really felt like looking at you when I came this time.” “Fuck, Rem.” You kiss him hard and clench him harder. He groans and picks up his pace, clearly getting tired but chasing an approaching high. 

His hand slips between your bodies, pushing you the slightest angle away from him so he can rub at your clit. Your cunt spasms at the sensation, and you hear his breath catch. 

He presses harder, establishes a rhythm, gradually making it faster. You’re close again at his adept touch, and you chant his name desperately as you shake your hips and push over your edge. His strangled moan tells you he’s cumming before the feel of it between your legs does, his dark, aching eyes on you the whole time. Once he starts slowing down, you wrap your arms tightly around him and nestle into his neck. He kisses you everywhere he can reach: your cheek, your neck, your shoulder. 

When he pulls apart from you, you shiver. You’re covered in sweat, and as he pulls his softening cock out of you, the wetness there is even worse. You wrap your arms around yourself and clench your thighs together. 

“Here, baby,” Remus says, running for a clean towel, dampening it before standing in front of you again. Very gently, he pushes your thighs apart again, stroking one soothingly as he cleans between your legs. When he’s done, he wraps you in a hug to bring you down off the counter, supporting you while you find you balance after your legs being rendered jelly.

“C’mere.” He holds you as he walks you to your bedroom. “You want to shower?” “‘M too tired. Can I shower in the morning?” “‘Course, lovely. Whatever you want.” “Ugh.” “What is it?” “I need to pee.” Remus giggles at you as he guides you toward the bathroom instead of the bed. 

“I can’t pee with you staring at me like that,” you complain when he just leans on the sink as you try to go. “I’m not staring; I’m admiring.” “Ok, I can’t pee with you admiring me like that.” He laughs again and turns around dramatically. He takes the opportunity to clean himself up.

You do what you need to do but stay sitting on the toilet even after you’ve finished, feeling too tired to get up. Remus dampens your hand towel and squats in front of you. He dabs at your face gently, freshening it up. You close your eyes at the soothing sensations of being cleaner and of being doted on. When he’s done your whole face and neck, he pecks your nose before getting up. “You planning on sleeping here or what?” he teases. “‘M tired,” you moan. “C’mon, lovely girl,” he chuckles, yanking you up. You finish cleaning up then follow him to bed, plopping down onto it. He hasn’t stopped giggling at your antics. “Want clothes?” “Just knickers please.” He tosses you a clean pair, slips into his own pants, then falls into bed with you. He shifts your body into a reasonable position and pulls the covers over you. Resting on his side, propped up on his elbow, his other hand starts stroking your bare skin lovingly. “You okay, sweet girl?” “Hmmm.” He kisses your forehead. “I know you’re sleepy, but just tell me if you’re okay. Nothing hurts or anything?” “No, Rem, I feel great.” You smile up at him without opening your eyes. You can’t see him looking down at you like you’re the most precious person in the world. To him, you are. “’S like my whole body is sinking and floating at the same time.” He chuckles adoringly and kisses you again, cuddling up beside you. “Good.” “Hmm.” You’re sinking into sleep but whisper giddily, “Thanks for fucking me.” He barks a full laugh. As it quiets to back to his giggle, he brings his face to yours. He nuzzles your nose with his and kisses your cheek. “Always happy to take care of my girl.” He kisses you again. “It was fun. Good for you? What you wanted?” “Mmhmm,” you nod. “Just what I wanted.” You use what little energy you have left to shift closer to him. “Now I want your cuddles.” “Always happy to take care of my girl,” he says again, more softly this time, as he wraps his arms around you snugly and kisses your forehead. 

You settle into each other, and the rise and fall of his breathing, the graze of his petting fingertips are the last things you feel as you drift into sleep.

[bloodiedrogue]

A FOOLISH LOVER'S OFFERING (10)

SUMMARY: On the way to Moonrise you and Astarion talk about some important things.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,060

WARNINGS: Spoilers for Act 2 (henceforth there will be spoilers in all chapters here on out), ANGST, mentions of murder.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi this chapter single handedly took every brain cell I had to write so hopefully you like it because I just want to set it on fire for all the grief it has caused me!!

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

“Gods, I hate this place.”

Gripping your torch, you try your best to focus on the Harper’s. How they move through the shadows, navigating every twist and turn without issue, leading you through the pathways.

It hasn’t been long since you’ve started your journey. No longer can you see the shining veil of the Inn but, given what you know, you’re well aware that your destination isn’t nearly ahead either. There’s still plenty of walking to do. A few hour's journey at the least. Perhaps more if Astarion insists on continuing to walk so slowly.

At your side, his eyes scan the trees with a heavy breath, taking in the decrepit scenery at such a leisurely pace that it makes you huff and glance around, noting the distance between you and the others. At this point, you’re close enough that you can still see them but too far to hear what any of them are saying —something you’re certain Astarion’s done on purpose when he plants his arm around your shoulder.

“You know, I happen to find it quite charming. All the dread and despair. It’s a bit like being at home.” 

You give him a look, raising your brow only to receive a snort in response, confirming that he’s (thankfully) kidding. “Ha, you think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

“Funny?” He moves his other hand to his chest, placing it against his leathers. “Darling, I’m hilarious.” 

“Yes, yes, a real jester.” 

His fingers flex around your shoulder, squeezing. “I’ll have you know I’ve always been funny. Even before all this vampiric bullshit.” 

“Yeah?”

He nods, a slight thought flashing across his face that makes you wonder what he’s thinking about. Given the circumstances, you assume it’s a thought of the past. Perhaps of his life before Cazador’s reign. When he was merely an elf roaming topside around Baldur’s Gate without a care in the world. You imagine he was funny back then. Mischievous. Probably a little too out there, even for a magistrate considering the personality you’ve grown to love. Based on pure assumption, he probably had more fun in one night than you in a lifetime, spending his hard-earning coin on good food and drinks and—

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” He pulls you tighter into him, using his free hand to pluck the torch out of your hand so that you can wrap yourself around him. As you do, both of you breathe a sigh of what feels like relief, even though you’re currently experiencing anything but.

“Sorry.”

“Well, you were staring at me, so I suppose I can forgive.” 

“Many thanks, my liege.” 

He growls suggestively under his breath, making you scoff. “My liege, hm, I could get behind that.” 

“Of course you could.” 

“My liege,” he repeats, tasting it on his tongue, eyeing you with a lusty gaze that doesn’t quite make its mark. 

Which only furthers the assumption that he’s deep inside his head still. Sifting through thoughts you’re completely unaware of as you walk in tandem to your potential untimely end. Almost immediately, it makes you wonder if maybe this is the right time to start asking questions. To finally speak up about the inquiries that have filed through your skull. Because after this, there’s no telling where you may find yourselves. You could be killed or locked away —lost to an abyss of some kind.

The options are endless; however, time is not, so instead of stewing in the silence you currently find yourselves in, you look up at him, taking in the shape of his face.

You’ve known him long enough now to know that the comments he often makes about his beauty are true. In appearance, he’s almost otherworldly. A beacon of well-aged flesh your eyes feel constantly drawn to. Whenever he’s around there’s this feeling of awe that comes forth. A subtle beating in your chest that quickens each time he’s present. When you look at him —really look at him— your eyes tend to open a little wider, surprised by how every feature seems to fit so perfectly in place. How everything feels uncharacteristically cohesive given his time spent abused beneath the moon, forced to stave and serve for all eternity. 

If it weren’t for the issue of Cazador you’d be convinced he was blessed by the Gods themselves. Melded by their very hands to create a being of such high temptation and desire. You imagine them brainstorming his existence. Tirelessly spending weeks on end crafting the perfect specimen that would ultimately end up broken. 

You realize then, taking in the lines that have developed throughout countless bouts of false grinning, that the very thing he loves most about himself was more than likely the result of his own downfall.

A downfall you find you’re still curious about. Even after your conversation, Astarion’s life before all this still holds an air of mystery. Between details already revealed, there are still patches of missing information. Sections of time where assumptions feel wrong but asking feels just as bad. And because of that, deep down, you know you should leave the curiosity alone. Pack it into the back of your mind for later use, but with the oncoming war and no determined outcome, you instead loosen your hold and take a side step. 

“Can I ask you something?”

He narrows his eyes, readjusting his position now that you’re not locked against him, suddenly looking awkward as he puffs out his chest. “Depends.” 

“On?”

“Whether or not the question is going to be depressing,” he replies. “Because you have that look in your eye.”

“What look?”

He reaches out to poke your forehead, pressing it roughly. “The one where your brows look like they’re going to become one at a moment’s notice.”

Swatting his hand away, you twitch your brows back into their proper positioning, annoyed. “I was going to ask about Cazador,” you tell him, truthfully. “I know he’s probably not a topic you want to discuss as we waltz to our potential doom but —I don’t know— I just have questions.” 

He sighs deeply, drawing out his breath before giving you an unimpressed look that speaks volumes.

He doesn’t want to talk about it. Nor do you, but at the same time, you’re at the point where you’re unable to deny your interest because Astarion’s your friend. A companion you cherish more than you know you should. A person whose well-being is so important you’d virtually do anything to maintain it. Which is why you’re determined to pry a bit more than usual. Taking these final moments you have to yourself to ask the one question you’ve been wondering for ages. 

“What will you do about him? When this is all over.”

Surprisingly, there’s no hesitation in his words when he tells you he’ll kill him. As you continue along the path, listening to him come up with all the vile ways he’d do it, you find yourself strangely calm. Numb almost to the descriptions of stakes being driven into hearts or knives slicing through jugular veins. Lost in the way he throws your torch around with every passing phrase.

“Personally, I think a stake to the heart’s a bit cheap,” you eventually comment, watching him laugh. Hearing the way the sound quickly flutters out and hits your ears, making you smile despite the subject matter. 

“It’s a classic for a reason, my dear.” 

“Is it though? I mean, in my experience there’s far better ways to kill someone.”

“Is there, now? Do tell.” 

You’re not sure if it’s just because you’ve grown used to the excessive violence throughout your journey or because Astarion’s tendencies have potentially rubbed off on you. Either way, as the two of you joke of his master’s demise you find yourself wondering if maybe such a result is even plausible. Sure, you’ve never killed a vampire. Hell, before Astarion you’re not even sure you’ve seen one up close, but for him, you’d be willing to try. Especially given the ever-growing lack of regard for your own safety.

“Honestly, the only thing that’s coming to mind is cutting him open and doing something to his innards.” 

His brows shoot up in surprise, making you laugh. “Mm, a cold-blooded killer after my own heart.”

You roll your eyes, prompting his hand to subtly grip your own. Tangling your fingers together, he raises your palm carefully up to his lips and places a lingering kiss. One that tickles your flesh long after he’s gone, leaving you grinning like a fool, wondering if this is what love feels like. 

You imagine it is. Deep beneath the surface, your chest is tight but not with fear. Instead, there’s only warmth that spreads —a growing sensation of heat that wraps around your lungs and heart. Filling you with this discomforting ache that only he can alleviate. So much so that it makes you want to scream sometimes, knowing he’s the cause. That somehow through his charms and tricks he’s managed to find a home inside your chest without permission. How he’s sliced you open with that wicked grin and crawled inside, calling you darling all the while. 

It makes you wonder if he feels the same. If all the afflictions he’s given you are returned in some capacity. If when you look at him his mouth goes dry or his heart skips a beat. Or the longing to be near is indeed reciprocated and not just another plot to keep you close.

Because sometimes it’s hard to tell. 

Throughout your journey, you’ve gone back and forth a hundred times, debating the possibilities —weighing the pros and cons of every interaction that you’ve ever had. Even now, knowing such trivial thoughts should be the last thing on your mind, you can’t help but wonder: does he care for you? Truly? Does he think of you? Does he look for you? Within his everyday thoughts does your presence linger in the background, waiting for the right moment to be put on full display for him to admire?

Does he love you?

“You know, if you ever need help with the whole murdering Cazador thing…”

It sounds ridiculous when you say it. So nonchalant and unfazed. Even you have to cringe at the way you trail off, waiting for him to speak. Praying that he’ll laugh or scoff or say literally anything to fill the silence you find yourselves walking through. 

It takes him a while but eventually, you hear him quietly sigh, his gaze moving to view your nervous face. “It won’t be easy, you know. Cazador isn’t some vagabond with a blade, he’s—“

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.”

He says it like a warning. As if he’s preparing to scold you for speaking out of term, narrowing his eyes with a huff. “Darling, I appreciate the enthusiasm but Cazador —he’s different. He’s not like the villains we’ve faced thus far. He isn’t motivated by greed or lust. The only thing he wants is power. Power over me —over you.” 

He pauses then, swallowing hard. Making it apparent then that this hypothetical conversation of murderous jokes has turned into something far more real. That your offering is no longer a mere gesture of kindness but instead a potential act of solidarity. One that you extend further by running your thumb along his, applying a bit of pressure at the joint, feeling him twitch. 

“You know there’s very little I wouldn’t do for you, right?” 

In an instant his eyes are on you, staring in surprise, trying to process the words that’ve just spilled through your lips. At first, they’re focused on their position, fully immersed in the way you clear your throat, trying to suppress a nervous laugh as you continue to grip his hand. Not long after though, they start to go distant, moving past your face to view the trees behind you, fizzling out of reality so quick that all you can do is try to pull him back. 

“I know you probably think I’m in idiot for even suggesting that fact that I may be capable of killing someone who spent centuries in control of so many people—“

“A bit, yes.” 

You snort, watching him slowly start to return to you, his lips curling into a half smile you can’t help but reach out and touch, stopping your stride. “But I would do anything you asked of me. Even if it meant death, I would kill that bastard for you without hesitation. Whatever way you wanted, whether it’s decapitation or throwing him off a bloody cliff or—“

The light of the torch shifts as his hand slips out of yours, taking hold of your head to guide you to his lips. To press his mouth to yours with such need that the breath within your lungs is ripped out. Swallowed behind his starving tongue —lapping whatever life you have to offer as his hand drifts over your cheek, taking hold of your flesh to keep you from leaving.

Standing still, you can feel the tenseness of his frame as it all happens. How aside from his mouth and hand the rest of him refuses to move, prompting you to reach out, running your hands along his sides, coaxing him to relax. 

When his body does, you slowly pull away, sucking in air like your life depends on it, watching with half-lidded eyes and swollen lips as he opens his mouth to speak, stuttering out something incoherent before swearing under his breath. 

Narrowing your eyes further, you watch him struggle to speak, wondering what could be going on in that complicated brain of his as he turns his body, releasing you from his grasp in favour of moving forward again.

Immediately, it makes you drop your jaw in annoyance, watching his hands move towards his hair, gripping his locks in frustration as you hear him mutter to himself and continue to move, leaving you behind. 

“Hold on, you’re just going to kiss me like that and walk away?” 

He doesn’t even turn to acknowledge you as you yell, making you even angrier as you race toward him, placing a rough hand against his shoulder to gain his attention. 

“Astarion—“

“Do you mean it?”

Your mouth twitches when he turns, looking at you with angry eyes. Scanning you with knitted brows filled with so much frustration all you can do is breathe and nod.

“Why?”

Because I love you. 

“Because…”

“Tell me.”

Your mouth is drier than it’s ever been, making it hard for you to form the words as you feel your tongue poke out to wet your lips. “I—“

His shoulder shifts from your grasp in one quick motion, leaving you bare —untethered and weak against the aggression of his eyes staring you down. “You know, I’ve spent centuries coming up with all the ways I’d do it. How I’d kill him if given the chance.”

You watch his gaze move to the trees again, travelling elsewhere even though you’re here, standing still in front of him, already wondering how you'll get him back.

“Despite the scenarios being nothing but my foolish imagination running rampant, every time I end up suffering. Forced further into madness —pushed to the brink of what my body is capable of handling.” He shakes his head before raising it, blinking back tears that make your body ache. “Even in my wildest dreams I cannot win against his torment and yet… the moment you mention it… the moment you look at me with those eyes—” 

Hearing him choke back a nervous laugh, this time it’s you who’s on him, clutching his face with both hands, pressing your thumbs to the inner corners of his eyes to wipe away the liquid that continues to pool.

“Why are you so willing to help me do the unimaginable?”

This time there’s no hesitation. No moment of thought that graces your mind as you smile up at him, pulling him further down with shaking hands to press your forehead to his. “It’s because I love you,” you tell him then. Barely above a whisper, you let it filter out like smoke, allowing it to envelop him entirely as you breathe and take him in, watching the way his lips unfurl and the anger laced within his features slips away. “And because the thought of allowing him to live after what he did to you fills me with a kind of rage I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before.”

His hand moves to stroke the side of your neck. Gently, his fingers run across the bite marks he's inflicted, marking their positions with two subtle taps before they glide away, rooting themselves at the back of your head for support. Forcing you to remain in the moment, realizing what you’ve just said.

It’s hardly the right time to admit your feelings. But then again, given the circumstances, you quickly remember that there really isn’t one. Considering you're in the middle of a war, on your way to Ketheric’s base, it’s very unlikely you’ll have a spare moment to clear your mind and properly say all the things you’ve been itching to say. 

Until the end, it’ll always feel like something’s missing —like you’ve forgotten an important phrase or detail. That whatever you say will never be enough to fully convey the weight of how he makes you feel each time he looks you up and down or makes you laugh. 

Even as you stand before him now, holding him tight —watching the tears within his eyes threaten to spill once again, you know nothing you say will ever amount to the ache inside your chest, knowing that you’ve managed to give him the last sliver of hope you have to offer. 

“I love you, Astarion,” you repeat then, praying this time it holds its weight. That the nervous rush inside your stomach passes through and all you’re left with is the kind of warmth you’ve only read about in stories.

His jaw is slack as you repeat your confession, shifting in a way that makes you more nervous than it should, watching him blink and hearing him breathe —doing everything but speak the words you want to hear as Shadowheart calls your name, pulling you both away to notice the annoyed look on her face as she tells you to hurry up. 

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[jae-bummer]

Erasing Boundaries

Request: Hi I hope you're well~~I'd really like to see no.12 with Bang Chan from the prompt list. 👀 I'd also like to say that I've been a long time follower and I really love reading your works! Thank you for putting the time and effort!! <3

Prompt:

12) When your bias tries to delicately friendzone you, they realize you just wanted to be friends in the first place. Shortly after, they realize they’re the ones falling for you.

Pairing: Stray Kids Bang Chan x Reader

Genre: Fluff

.

"We're just friends."

"You're a trustworthy person, Chan," Lee Know muttered from his spot on the studio couch. "So I don't understand why you're lying to me right now."

"I'm not lying!" Chan said, spinning around in his office chair. "I really don't have feelings for Y/N."

"Right," Lee Know muttered. "Because instead of multiple feelings, you have one feeling, and it is love."

"Seriously?" Chan groaned, flopping his head back. "Why are you even saying this?"

"You follow them around like a lovesick puppy," Lee Know sighed, pulling out his phone. "Don't think I haven't noticed."

"I feel insulted," Chan pouted. "I am not lovesick, nor am I a puppy."

"A lovesick wolf then."

Chan groaned again as he spun away from his younger member.

After a moment of silence, he turned back around. "Do you think Y/N has feelings for me?"

"Probably," Lee Know hummed, not bothering to look up. "But I thought you didn't have feelings for them."

"I don't!" Chan gasped. "Maybe...maybe I should talk to them."

"And confess? Good idea."

"No!" Chan chuckled. "To just confirm that we're friends and nothing more than that."

"Are you sure you really want to create that boundary?" Lee Know asked with lifted brows. "You're friend zoning yourself."

"I'm friend zoning, Y/N," Chan nodded. "This idea that we like each other romantically must have come from how they interact with me. I know I haven't been flirting."

"I'm sorry," Lee Know sighed. "Are you finally having a mental break? Or are we living two incredibly different lives?"

"I think you're seeing what you want to see," Chan nodded finitely.

"Hello, pot?" Lee Know laughed. "This is kettle. You're black."

"I can't be in a relationship right now," Chan sighed, switching tactics. "We've got too much going on."

"There are far too many arguments I can make," Lee Know muttered. "And frankly I'm exhausted."

"Good," Chan grinned. "I'll let you know how the talk goes."

"Please, don't."

..

"Why was your text so ominous?" you asked, plopping across Chan's bed. Taking a long sip from your frozen coffee, you looked up to see him pacing back and forth in front of you.

"Ominous?" he muttered. "It wasn't ominous. I just asked you to come over."

"You said we-" you cleared your throat, trying to pitch your voice deeper to match Chan's tone. ""needed to talk.""

"Well, it wasn't so much of a need as it is a want," he sighed, finally stopping and sitting down beside you.

You narrowed your eyes at your friend, trying to figure out what was going on in his head. Normally he had at least a hundred things swirling around up there, but today seemed to have a hundred and one.

"You're kind of starting to freak me out," you grumbled, sitting up from your lounging position to better look at him.

"No need," he said quickly. "I just...I wanted to make sure something was clear between us."

"Okay..." you trailed off.

"We're friends, yeah?"

"If we weren't, I'd consider the past year to be a cruel joke," you teased, but instantly stopped as Chan's face remained solemn.

"Chris?" you squeaked. "We are friends...right?"

"Of course, we are!" he gasped, moving to squeeze your knee, but stopping short. Taking a moment to compose himself, he finally swiveled toward you. ""Y/N, you're one of my people."

Your heart gave a small flip. Chan was one of your people too. As someone you could always go to for advice or comfort, he reminded you of the type of guy who was your older sibling's friend that you always had a childhood crush on. You reconciled long ago that someone like him was out of your league, or at least that was your perception of it.

"And as one of my people, I want you to know how important you are to me."

"Chris," you hummed, holding your hand up in the air. "This is awfully sentimental for a Thursday afternoon."

"Right," he winced. "I'll save you my speech that I definitely didn't take an hour figuring out last night."

Your eyes grew wide.

"Joking," he chuckled unconvincingly.

You would find out later that he, in fact, was not joking.

"Long story short," he continued, unable to meet your eyes. "We're friends."

"Yep."

"Just. Friends." he said, emphasizing each word.

"Hearing you loud and clear," you nodded, still unsure what the climax of the conversation would be.

"Good, good," he nodded, reaching toward the drink you had brought him. "So, how was your day?"

"Wait, I'm sorry," you coughed. "Was that it?"

"Well, yeah," he said, furrowing his brow. "Why?"

"I legitimately had anxiety on my way over here," you gasped. "And it was simply for you to tell me something I already knew?"

"You had anxiety?" Chan pouted, his expression soft. "That wasn't my intention at all! It's just that the members kept hinting to me that they thought we were involved, and I wanted to make sure the record was set straight with everyone and-"

"Take a breath, Chris," you sighed. You patted him lightly on the shoulder. "I may have had anxiety, but I also am relieved to know it was over something so silly. I know we're friends."

"We are," he nodded. "You're the Patrick to my SpongeBob, the-"

"Wait, why do I have to be Patrick?" you muttered.

"Because you live under a rock and can't open a jar on your own," he grinned.

"Ah, right," you teased. "And you're SpongeBob because you never stay hydrated and have an unhealthy fixation with your job."

"Low blow, Y/N."

"The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

...

"I messed up."

"You're right," Lee Know hummed. "We should have given Hyunjin up for adoption years ago. Should I start looking for the closest fire station?"

"That is not what I meant," Chan muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I messed up with Y/N. Bad."

"Please," Lee Know said quietly. "Please tell me you did not do what I think you did."

"I made it clear how we are thoroughly, only friends," Chan winced.

Lee Know inhaled deeply through his nose before holding it and letting it out through his mouth.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Chan whispered.

"Give me a minute," Lee Know grumbled. "My therapist taught me to focus on my breathing when I wanted to get violent."

"Minho," Chan deadpanned.

"Yes, I know, you're my hyung, and I shouldn't speak to you this way, but damnit, man!"

"I know!" Chan cried. "I messed up."

"As you keep saying!" Lee Know sighed. "Now how are you going to fix it?"

"Fix it?" Chan chirped. "I shouldn't just wallow in my misery?"

"Let's try this," Lee Know said slowly. "If the roles here were reversed, what would you tell me?"

Chan scrunched up his face. "Well, I guess I'd tell you that it's okay to make mistakes and this wasn't a serious one. No one is going to die, except you, maybe of embarrassment. You can try to clear your conscience and confess, or just really make a go at trying to be only friends."

"And that's when I would say...?"

"Full steam ahead, let's make an ass out of ourselves," Chan chuckled.

"Correct," Lee Know grinned. "So let Y/N know how you feel. How you really feel."

"One problem," Chan sighed. "In the process of me friend zoning them, I'm pretty sure they friend zoned me twice as hard."

"What do you mean?"

"They said they knew all along we were only friends."

"Do you think just maybe," Lee Know said, tilting his head. "They were following your lead?"

"I mean...maybe?"

"Well," Lee Know grinned. "Time to find out."

...

"Christopher Bang!" you gasped, flying through the front door of the dorm. "I swear on every star in the sky, and EVEN the one's on Felix's cheeks, that if you summon me again with a "we need to talk" text, I'm going to end you!"

"I don't have much tact when I'm nervous," Chan admitted from the living room sofa. He cringed as he looked up at you. "You look nice today."

"I don't want compliments!" you huffed. "I want an explanation!"

"Okay, and you deserve one," he said calmly. "But first, may I interest you in a beverage?"

"Stop stalling."

"Alright, alright," he grumbled. Pushing himself up from the cushions, he came to stand in front of you. It looked like he hadn't slept in days (which wasn't entirely uncommon) but it seemed to really be wearing on him more than usual. "Our conversation yesterday-"

"Wasn't much of a conversation," you finished. "More like just stating the obvious but continue."

"Whatever it was," Chan sighed. "I was wrong."

"You were...wrong?"

"Yes."

You bit your lower lip, not failing to notice the way it drew Chan's eyes. "So are you saying we're not friends?"

"We are," he said quickly. "But from my perspective, that isn't the full truth."

You waited, unsure of what that could possibly mean.

"I told you yesterday that you were one of my people," he said softly. "But that wasn't entirely accurate. If I was being truthful, with you and myself, I would have said you're my person."

Lifting your brows, you tried not to stagger back. Was he actually about to tell you that he had feelings for you? After you had resolved yourself to live with the shadow of unrequited love?

"I care about you in ways that a normal friend wouldn't," he continued. His voice remained quiet, but he had moved closer. "And I understand if you only see me in that brotherly way, that's okay. I get it, but I drove myself nuts last night playing over our conversation. It was a mistake to try to draw a boundary in our relationship, especially when I honestly wanted to erase any we did have."

"Chris-"

"I'm a mess," he whispered. "I'm stubborn and obsessive and make so many mistakes. I'm tired and worn out...but if you can accept all of that...I'll try to be the best version of myself for you."

You stayed quiet, only able to blink up at him as you processed this new information. It felt as if someone was blowing a balloon in your chest, and it was destined to pop at any moment.

"But also, no pressure," he said quickly. "I'd rather be your friend than nothing at all."

"Silly boy," you said softly, only mildly concerned that you would spook him if you came at the situation too enthusiastically. Crossing the small amount of space between the two of you, you stuck out your bottom lip. "I see the best version of you every day. It's just that some days, your best is going to look different depending on what you have to give. Every trait you listed as a weakness has a strength to it. You're stubborn, but that makes you determined. You're obsessive, but you're committed. And with every mistake you make, you learn. It's okay to recognize the flaws in yourself, but you have to recognize the other side of all that. I care about every side of you, Chris. Every day, some days, whatever you're willing to give...I'm going to take."

You could see Chan's eyes go glassy. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that."

"Good," you smiled. "So yes, I care about you in a more than friend way."

You gave yourself a mental high five. Suddenly, the unattainable childhood crush knew you existed, and wanted you back. How often does that happen?

"I don't deserve you," he hummed, cautiously pulling you into his chest. Wrapping his strong arms around you, he gave a loving squeeze. "But I'm glad you think I do."

Kissing him playfully on the underside of his jaw, you laughed. "Shut up, SpongeBob."

[caffeinemachine]

Life Jacket- Chapter 2

Hi!! Thanks for all the love on the first chapter! Sorry this out later than I expected but I couldn't stop writing and I didn't want to end the chapter at an odd spot.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Hope you like this chapter!

WC: 4.8K

Conrad Fisher x Eldest Conklin Sibling Reader

Blurb | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

~~~~~~~~~~

The first day always went the same. Unpack, swim, shower, nap, dinner. Sometimes the first bonfire of the season was the first day we got there, other times it was the next day. This year it was the first. So today’s order was, unpack, swim, shower, nap, dinner, get ready, party. 

We all gathered around the table for dinner in our usual spots. My Mom, Belly, and me on one side,  Steven and Jere across from us, then Conrad on the end next to me, and Sussanah on the end next to my Mom. The spots never changed over the years, unless we had guests to squeeze in somewhere. The other thing that never changed was the food. Susannah was an amazing cook. She had taught me to cook over the years. I had spent many hours by her side being her ‘little sous chef’ as she called me. This summer she told me she would show me her old college food recipe hacks. 

I picked my head up from my plate when I heard Jeremiah’s voice, “So Y/n/n when do you leave for school? Do they have the swim team go early?” 

I nodded, quickly swallowing my food so I could answer, “Yeah I have to go early, It's not too bad though only 2 weeks before the regular move-in date. I leave on August 5th.”

Susannah spoke next, “We’re so proud of you, our little fish.” Everyone chuckled at the nickname, ‘little fish’. Susannah had been calling me that for years. 

“So what about you man when do you leave for training camp?” Steven asked Conrad, only he wasn’t the one who answered. Jeremiah did.

“He uh quit football.” Silenced stretched over the table. He what? I stared at him in disbelief, but in my heart, a part of me felt relieved for him. Being a student athlete isn’t easy and I knew Conrad only did football for his father. Sure he still loved the sport, but not enough. 

“What you quit? Why man, I would’ve killed to play college ball?” Steven asked Conrad but again he didn't respond, his mother answered this time. 

“He can always change his mind.” That made Conrad speak up, getting defensive towards his mother in a way I didn't usually see from him.

“I’m not gonna change my mind, I was just gonna sit on the bench all season anyway.” I sat quietly. I didn’t know what to say. Conrad and I bonded over our athleticism over the years, it felt weird to think we didn’t share that similarity anymore. 

I hadn't realized I was staring at him until he looked back at me, our eyes locked and yet I still couldn't move. You'd think it'd be instinct to look away but as he came into focus, we just stared. I tried my best to read him to understand why he might do that, Why would he quit? I knew he didn't love it but he had gone this far with it, What made him change his mind?

There was something unreadable in his expression I didn't think it was regret or nostalgia or sadness or anger but instead some combination of all of it. I wondered why. He looked away first turning his attention to his plate as he picked at the food in front of him. I didn't push him on it, I wasn't sure I'd push him on it later either. I’m sure he had a reason, maybe it’d be best if I just let him tell me if he wanted. 

The rest of dinner continued on like normal on the first night. Catching up, making jokes, and just being happy to be in each other's presence again. Everyone went their separate ways to get ready for the bonfire, and Belly and the moms stayed downstairs preparing for their movie night. Their tradition started a few years ago when Belly was 11, almost 12. That was the first year we went to a bonfire, Conrad and I were 14, and Jeremiah and Steven were 13. The bonfires were different then, we were with the younger crowd still unmixed from the older kids.  It was in the backyard of the house owned by a kid Jeremiah and Conrad knew from sailing camp. Belly was so upset she couldn't come with us. She was too young and we didn't want to have to watch out for her the whole night, or entertain her for that matter. I love my sister and she's gotten a lot better over the years but she loves attention, even though she won't admit it. Having her come meant that I would have to keep her by my side the whole night, that I couldn't mingle with new kids and make new friends. The moms promised to hang out with her that night. They went to the drugstore in town and bought a bunch of candy. Susannah made brownies and they watched a movie, a PG-13 movie which Belly thought was awesome at the time. 

I didn't do too much to get ready for the bonfire, it wasn't anything new, but I still like to look a little bit nice. It was the first time I was seeing everybody for the season after all. My hair was down, air-dried from the shower I took earlier so it had a natural wave to it. A little concealer under my eyes, some mascara, tinted lip balm, and that was that. I put on a tank top and some jean shorts with my navy Cousins Beach sweatshirt on top. It tended to get a little bit chilly on the beach at night. I looked at myself in the mirror, my eyes catching on the shimmer coming from my ears. My pearl earrings, Susannah's pearl earrings. She gave them to me for my 16th birthday just like her mother did and I've treasured them every day since. 

I had to shoo the thought away as I felt myself getting choked up. I exited my room and went down the stairs, slipping on my very worn-in black Converse by the door.  I heard stories of people in college having a designated pair of shoes they called their ‘frat shoes’. This pair of black Converse was that for me over the summer.  They had been covered in sand, soaked from water, and scuffed with dirt, more times than I could count. 

As I finished tying my last lace, the boys walked down the stairs. I sat up, shoes now tied, and patted my knees, “You guys ready to go?”

“Yep let's do this we're taking my car. Y/N you promised to be DD for the night right? Don’t worry though I won’t drink too much anyway, wouldn't want to be hungover for my first day of duty, right Y/ N?” Jeremiah answered.

I laughed, “No Jere, you definitely shouldn't be hungover. Wouldn't look good for me either after I vouched for you to get this job. But yes I’ll be DD.” He laughed with me throwing his arm over my shoulder as we walked to the car. Steven called shotgun which left me and Conrad to sit together in the back. I hated to admit it to myself but he looked good. How someone could pull off a gray hoodie that well I didn't know, but he pulled off a gray hoodie and jeans better than I'd seen ever before. 

The drive was silent in terms of conversation but in the front seat, Jeremiah and Steven were singing their hearts out to Steven's ‘pregame’ playlist off Spotify. I kept my gaze out the window. Partly because I was still taking in the beauty of Cousins, partly because I could look at him. He looked too good and I always had to distance myself from Conrad before parties. I never knew how they’d play out with him. Sometimes he’d just stick close to us, the crew, and have a super fun night hanging out. Usually, that’s what he did when I was at the party with the guys but I’d been told the stories of his playboy party actions when I wasn’t there, and last summer I had gotten a glimpse of it. A girl named Nicole had come up to him and started chatting with him. Within seconds she was quite touchy-feely. Her hand was on his chest or upper arm, even playing with his hair every once in a while. I had whispered into Jere’s ear who was between me and the horny fest, “Who’s that?” 

Jere took a quick glance over his shoulder and then whispered back, “Nicole, she and Conrad hook up every once in a while.”

I furrowed my brows, “I’ve literally never seen her before.”

“They met at a party last summer when you had left for swim camp, I think her family like only comes out for August.”

I swallowed the information and then excused myself to get a drink. I stole a beer from the kid's fridge and walked back feeling a little bit better now that I had a drink in my hand. But when I looked up to find Nicole on her tiptoes kissing Conrad against the wall, the power of the drink in my hand ceased. I turned back to the kitchen, leaning against the counter by myself for a few minutes. I had my focus down on my hands when I suddenly looked up at the sound of the refrigerator doors flying open. It was her. She was seemingly grabbing a beer from the fridge the same way I had been just a second ago. I expected her to walk back out to Connie, but instead, she stationed herself on the counter, so I took that as my sign to walk back. It was the first, and only time since I had seen Conrad's fuck-boy behavior, but the stories continued, and I never let myself feel unprepared for the chance I might see it again.

Now sitting in the car with him I did just that as I watched the houses go by. The streets are littered with beautiful bloomed hydrangeas. Suddenly, my hair was pushed behind my ear. I turned my head as his hand draped its way down from my ear to the ends of my hair. His face was soft but I could see the dimples around his smile starting to crease. I shifted in my seat, nervous with his attention on me. 

“W-what are you doing?” I spoke lowly. Not that it mattered, Jere and Steven had no chance of hearing over our screaming.

“You’re hiding.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. And it left me speechless. “Your hair is always so soft, you’d think after years of chlorine that wouldn’t be the case.” 

That eased the tension a little, as the corner of my mouth turned up. “Well, that's because I wear one of those swim caps.”

He laughed, “I’d pay to have a picture of that.” 

I laughed with him, “Don’t say that to my mom 'cause she’d easily take your money for an exchange.” 

“Let's go!” Jeremiah shouted, exiting the car along with my brother. I hadn't realized we had stopped.

I looked over my shoulder to see Conrad hadn’t moved. His eyes looked at me like he was observing my soul. I held my breath. As if not breathing would help ease the bubbles floating around in my chest. 

I couldn’t bear it.

With an awkward laugh, I scooted out of the car and jogged over to Jere and Steven. I didn’t want to walk down alone. I knew the boys wouldn’t stay by my side the whole night, they’d go do other things within the first hour, but I liked to hold onto them for as long as I could. I didn’t mind the girls I’d met with the guys here over the years, but we were never that close. Nicole, Dara, Gigi, Marisa, and Shayla, we’d all lose contact over the school year. I also knew some people who weren’t from that crew. Some of them I knew from the swim club I used to do at the Country Club when I was little under the Fisher’s name. I wasn’t exactly supposed to be in the club seeing as I wasn’t truly a member but Susannah had a way of getting people to do what she wanted. Kindness can be blinding. The club was mostly made up of little boys, there were only 3 of us girls, Sydney, Ally, and me. Sydney was a nice girl. She was super smart, and ambitous, she’s set to start at Princeton for business in the Fall. Ally, I remained better friends with as we grew up. She was a dedicated swimmer like me so we even ran into each other sometimes during the school year at competitions. Ally was a total sweetheart, but she liked to have fun. She was easy to hang out with, she understood. I hoped they were here, I had forgotten to text them when I got to Cousins.

The fire wasn’t too crazy, they had to be careful not to draw too much attention from the cops. A big crowd of people had already formed though and it was only 9:30. I grabbed a cola from the cooler as I said hello to everyone coming up to us. Chit-chat was made with numerous people, and I couldn’t help but feel these conversations were really competitions for these kids. It was like every comment had to be a one-up to the one previous.

It was around 10:30 when a hand plopped down on my shoulder abruptly.  I assumed it was one of the guys but then he came into my eyeline, Peter Millington. 

“Yooo Y/N what's good?” He said a little slurred. As he moved to stand in front of me his hand dropped from my shoulder. 

“Hey Peter,” I laughed. Peter was a good guy, he was flirty but it was harmless. Annoying, but harmless. I met him at the swim club when we were 10. 

“So miss big shot where you heading this fall?  I’m sure schools across the country were practically begging outside your front door!” 

I laughed, “I won’t deny that, but I’m actually not going far. I’m gonna be going to Harvard.” His mouth hung open.

“No shit.”

“Yes, shit. How about you, still swimming?” 

He shook his head, “Nah nah, I’m trying to be a sports agent, I’ll be going to Penn State.”

“That’s great, congrats.” I smiled at him. 

He pointed at me a big smirk spreading across his face, “Yeah so you better remember me when you go all famous.” He finished his statement by slightly hitting the side of my arm. 

“You got it Pete, I won’t forget you-”

“Belly what the fuck!” My head snapped and my jaw dropped. I took off over to them. I sort of abandoned Pete but eh, he’ll be fine. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Steven yelled.

I smacked his shoulder once I had run up to them. “Stop yelling! You’re making a scene!” I whisper-shouted at him. 

Then I turned my attention to my baby sister. My baby sister, who wasn’t supposed to be here. My baby sister, who was just talking to a man 5 years older than her. My baby sister, who chose to wear a tiny skin-tight pink mini dress. My clueless, trouble-causing, baby sister. 

“What are you doing here?” I asked her as calmly as I could. 

“What I can’t go to a party?” She bit back defensively.

Excuse me? She didn’t get to give me shit for being concerned when she's the one who showed up out of the blue. I scoffed, “Did I say that?”

“What are you even wearing Belly we are on the beach why would you-“ 

“Steven. Knock it off. Go hang out with Shayla.” This was getting too aggravating. Steven was instigating too much, he must have already pissed Belly off by the time I ran up and now I had to deal with it.

“Did Taylor tell you to wear that or something?” I asked Belly, trying my best to figure out what was going on without having to have an argument in the middle of a party. 

“Why can’t I just dress nicely without being questioned?” Why the hell was she being so defensive? 

 “Again did I say that?” I couldn’t hold back the bite to my tone.

She rolled her eyes before looking at me. But then her gaze sharply caught something over my shoulder. I turned to look. Jeremiah. Drunk off his ass. Standing next to the fire trying to strip and go skinny dipping. He had already stripped off his sweatshirt, shirt, shoes, and socks. 

“Great.” I scoffed, running over to my now 2nd problem of the night. 

When he saw me running over he smiled brightly, “Y/N! We are going swimming come on! OH MY GOSH Belly! You’re here! You come too!”

Belly laughed beside me and I would’ve thrown a dirty look her way if I had the energy to spare. 

“No. No one is going swimming. It’s pitch black, the rip currents are crazy, and you are wasted. That’s all recipe for disaster.” I said authoritatively. 

Jeremiah pouted. “Please?”

“No. Now put your clothes on.” 

“Booooo.” Was he serious? He swayed as he re-dressed, his shirt blocking his vision. Good god.

“And get rid of the drink Jere, You’ve had enough.” 

“Ughhh fine party pooper.” Before I could stop him he threw his drink into the fire. 

“Jere-” The fire grew, a blaze lighting the beach. Shouts were heard as other drunk idiots followed Jeremiah’s lead and fueled the fire. “I can’t with this, Jere hang out with Belly.”

He smiled at that, “Alright come here belly button sit with me by the fire.” She giggled and obliged.

I took a deep breath, my feet taking me to the shoreline without even thinking. I needed to calm down. The chaos was overwhelming. I sat down on the sand a few feet away from where the water reached. The breeze flowed against me and I felt my mind begin to ease. This. This is why I always loved Cousins. I will never feel as at peace as I do when I’m next to the ocean. Water just calmed me down. I was the little fish. 

I hoped that would never change. I hoped I would always be the little fish, no matter how big or how small the pond. No matter what happened down the line, the peace I felt by the water would never be disturbed. I’d always be, as Susannah so deemed me, a little fish. 

I felt a plop next to me in the sand. I knew who it was without even looking, I could simply feel his energy. It was Conrad. He looked out on the water as he placed whatever drink he had in his hand down next to him. I kept my gaze out on the water as well. It felt good to just sit with somebody. With him. 

“So you go around telling everybody you’re going to Harvard?” He said, slight humor in his tone.

I sighed, “I mean only when anyone asked.”

“No shouting from the rooftops?” 

“No shouting from the rooftops. I’m not a big bragger.” I snickered, and so did he.

“You? Please! You have always been humble but you never shied away from sharing your accomplishments. You should be proud of yourself, it’s a big deal.” I just shrugged in response.

“I’m proud of you.” I looked at him then. His eyes were full of sincerity. I don’t think he knew how much that meant to hear. I caught his eyes flicking to my lips. 

Wait what-

He was looking at my lips and when he looked back up his eyes shone with vulnerability. I couldn’t help myself when my eyes dipped down to look at his. I imagined what it’d be like to kiss him. His soft pillowy lips moving against my own. I wondered where he’d put his hands. He seemed like the type of guy to cup the back of your head. I’d feel the weight of his hand as he pulled me into him like he was desperate for our connection. Maybe one hand would fall to my hips or my thigh, acting like an anchor. 

I couldn’t let my mind wander too far. Lord knows where that would lead. When our eyes met the tension was unmistakable. I couldn’t. I couldn’t let myself fall into him. I’d never stand back up. 

“Stella? Alright, thanks man!” 

Spell broken. Peter had just snatched Conrad’s beer from its spot between us and was taking a big slug of it. 

“Pete what the hell?” I said, standing up from my seat on the sand. 

“Dude give me my beer back.” Conrad stood up as well, Pete was standing between us. 

“Whaaaat? You weren’t even drinking it man! It was just- you know just sitting there and all the- all the other Stella’s are gone.” He was plastered. I felt my chest sink. This isn’t gonna go well.

“I don’t give a fuck if there aren’t any left, that one is mine now give it back to me.” Conrad defended.

“Connie come on-” 

“It’s just a beer man.” Pete turned to face primarily towards Conrad. 

“Exactly, so give me my beer back and get yourself your own.” 

“No.”

“Pete come on you definitely don’t need another drink.” I approached him, going to put my hand down on his shoulder to try and calm him down. Then just as I did he rolled back his elbow saying,

“Oh fuck off.”

I fell to the ground. His elbow collided right with my ear and the side of my face. Well, that hurt like a bitch. I’ll have a black eye on my first day back to work. Awesome.

“Y/N-“

I kept my eyes clenched shut for a minute before I felt a hand come to my shoulder, it was Belly and Jeremiah helping me up. My ears rang for a minutes before clearing. I watched as Steven and Jere broke up the fight. 

Conrad looked at me as Steven pulled him back. I shook my head and looked away. Actually, I looked right at the flashing blue and red lights now coming from the top of the dunes. Cops, awesome. 

“Enough!” I snapped everyone out of it, “Let’s go! Come on!”

I grabbed Belly’s hand as we ran up to the car, glancing over my shoulder quickly to make sure the boys were behind us. 

“Jere keys!” I caught the keys as he tossed them to me, unlocking the car doors. “In! Now!”

I started the car, a scowl on my face. My head felt like it was vibrating but it wasn’t like any of them could drive with their intoxication level. I couldn’t believe them. How on earth did they think it was appropriate to act like this?  I kept my eyes on the road, but I was sure they could feel the anger radiating off of me. 

“Y/N look I-“ Steven started but I cut him off.

“I don’t wanna hear it.” 

Then Jeremiah came in, “We didn’t mean to-“

“I said I don’t wanna hear it! Unless you want me to hit a drunk teenager stumbling home, you’ll shut up and listen to me! I’m distracted enough by the pinging in my head.” 

They were silent after that. 

I was mad and I had plenty of reason to be. I had been in this position with my sibling plenty of times, a few with Jeremiah, but never Conrad. I knew he started fights occasionally, but never with me around. 

I pulled into the driveway and parked the car. Then I child-locked in all those mother fuckers. I unblocked my seatbelt and positioned myself to be able to see them all. Steven and Jere struggled to open the doors while Belly sat in the middle confused. To my surprise Conrad just sat in his seat, his focus down in his lap, he made no objections. Once the three backseat idiots figured it out they looked to me expectantly. 

I raised my brows, “What you thought just cause I didn’t want you distracting me while driving you were gonna be off the hook?”

“Y/N what do you even care? You’re not our mom.” Belly said, rolling her eyes.

She only fueled my anger, “Yeah no shit I’m not 'cause Mom wouldn’t have put up with even an ounce of the crap you guys pulled tonight. Do you think I like playing mommy? Do you think I wouldn’t have rathered to enjoy the first night of my summer stress-free? You are lucky I’m a good sister, 'cause I could so easily walk inside and tell Mom everything that went down tonight. Then maybe you’d realize that having you deal with me instead of mom, is me being nice.”  I watched my sibling's attitudes deflate. Jeremiah on the other hand was sitting there trying and failing to hide the smirk from his face. “What’s so funny Jeremiah? Do you think I’m not talking to you too right now? All of you put me in bad positions tonight because of how you acted. ”

Jeremiah chimed in again, “We weren’t that bad.”

My jaw dropped, “Not that bad? Let’s see who should I start with. How about you Jeremiah, I stopped you from getting naked in front of every teenager in cousins, potentially drowning and killing yourself, and even after I did that you acted like an idiot! Throwing alcohol into the fire, you’re probably the reason the cops came! Oh and just the cherry on top, the fact that you’re wasted after promising me you wouldn’t be.” He was quiet now. 

“Steven had to cause a whole scene, but I’m not even that mad at him because he was right to be questioning you Bells! How the hell did you even get there?”  

She peeked up sheepishly, “I walked.” 

“You walked? Belly do the Moms even know you came to the bonfire?”

“No, I snuck out.”  She spoke in a quiet tone.

“Jesus Bells! If you had just told me you wanted to come I would’ve vouched for you. For god sake, I would’ve given you a ride!” My head pounded. I rubbed my forehead trying to ease the pain, I needed some advil. “You guys can’t act like that. It’s dangerous, and quite frankly embarrassing. I’m just- I’m done dealing with it.” I took a breath and unlocked the doors, “Go inside guys. Go to sleep.” I sat forward with my head in my hands. I heard the doors open and close as they got out without a word. 

Except he didn’t. I didn’t look over at him. I honestly didn’t know what to say to him. I didn’t know how I felt at the moment. 

“Are you ok? Is your head alright?” He had worry in his voice and I couldn’t help but feel a flutter in my heart. 

“I have a headache and I’ll probably wake up to a huge bruise on my cheek but I’m fine.”

“How come you’re not mad at me too?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t mad at you.” I felt his eyes on me the whole time but mine stayed forward at the house. 

“You didn’t yell at me like everyone else.”

“Because I didn’t know what to say to you not because I’m not mad at you.”

A beat passed. Just us sitting in the car before he spoke up again, “I’m so sorry you got hurt, Pete was plastered-“

“You could’ve just let him have the beer.”

“Y/N I wasn’t going to-“

“Look it’s been a long night, just- just go to bed Con.” I grabbed the keys and left the car. I hadn’t looked at him once and I didn’t look back at him.  I couldn’t. I don’t even think I was truly mad at him, I mean it was Pete’s fault, not his. I was more overwhelmed with tonight’s events and I didn’t have the energy to unpack anything right now. My head was pounding and I needed to lay down. Work would be a nightmare tomorrow morning. 

I went straight into the shower when I got inside. I gave myself a quick rinse. Susannah always stoked our bathroom with luxurious bath products for me and Belly. But I know Steven liked it too.

I walked into my room and plopped right down onto my bed. Man, it was soft, and it only seemed softer after a hard night. 

I went to grab my phone when I saw it. A water bottle, advil, an ice pack, and a cookie, sitting on my bedside table, and I most certainly didn’t put it there. I knew who did. I knew it was him, and I could feel myself smile a little. I felt myself forgive him, he was hard to stay mad at. He wouldn’t mention it, I probably wouldn’t either, but we knew that we knew. That was enough. 

For now.

~~~~~~~

Tag list:

@mid-80s @geekinthefuschiahair @paytonloiselle

[littlejuicebox]

Handmade

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: Nine years post BG3 / You and Astarion are married; you now work as a Counsellor, Astarion handles your business investments. After a lot of hard work, the two of you have established quite a wealthy, wholesome life for yourselves. / If you're looking for more backstory and HCs for this version of AstarionxTav, check out my Highharvestide fics. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / Holiday fluff / Sexual references / Maybe some mild in game spoilers Word Count: Notes: This is 4/5 "Days of Star-mas!"

I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "gifts."

Click here to see my master list.

-----

Gift giving was, without a doubt, Astarion’s love language. He truly adored spoiling you with the most opulent things money could buy. A plethora of rare night blooming plants, ridiculously ornate gowns, a cabinet full of gem-encrusted jewelry, first editions of your favorite books (more than a few signed by the authors)… in truth, you’d been given it all. 

But well before this year’s Midwinter Banquet, just as the summer turned to autumn and the leaves in your back orchard were beginning to drop and kiss the earth, you explicitly told your husband you wanted something handmade this year. Something from the heart.

The vampire groaned at this stipulation. “Darling, I’ve got so many wonderful ideas. I’ve seen some beautiful dresses in the shops that would look wonderful on you. And a pair of earrings that would go beautifully with your eyes; just this morning I was in discussions with a horse breeder about purchasing you your very own riding horse since you seem to abhor the carriage… you just can’t be serious about this, my sweet.” 

“I am.” You’d responded, tone matter-of-fact, arms crossed, brow furrowed as you address your husband, “My love, we have everything. Everything we could possibly want and money to buy anything else we want or need, too. I’ve been given the most luxurious gifts for nine years straight… but I want something from the heart. I want something from my rogue. From the man that used to leave me flowers on my pillow at camp and steal me sweet rolls from the merchants. I know he’s in there, somewhere.” 

You step closer to your husband, peering deeply into his eyes like you’re searching for something lost deep within the pupil. Then you place your ear to Astarion’s chest and bring your hand up to knock on it. “Hellllooo? Rogue Astarion? Can you hear me in there?” 

Your love chuckles at your antics and grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly before planting a kiss on the knuckle. “Very well darling, have it your way. How could I say no?” 

You beam, overjoyed to have won this little debate. Then, for the next few months, the two of you sneak off to prepare your individual gifts for one another whenever you have a spare moment.

More than once in those few months, Astarion had rattled the door to your bedroom, threatening to pick the lock if you didn’t let him in that instant. You’d groan in frustration every time, quickly stow away your gift, and then rip open the door to roll your eyes at the pale elf. 

“It’s only been a few hours, Astarion. You interrupted me right when I was actually getting somewhere, do you know that?” You’d scolded, more than once. 

“Darling, it’s been several hours, not just a few. Why is it not possible for you work on your gift somewhere else? I need use of this room, too, you know. Unless this is somehow your way of telling me you’d like to sleep in separate rooms from now on, my sweet?” He’d challenged more than once, quirking his white eyebrow at you with a rakish smirk. Then he'd sweep into the room with a brief kiss to your temple and ready himself for bed or a bath.

“If I could work on it elsewhere, I would! But I can’t. You’ll see why.” You would always huff in response, wrinkling your nose impatiently at your husband. “And don’t pretend you’d be able to sleep a wink if you were made to lay in the guest chambers, Lord Ancunin. Don’t tempt me with any ideas.”

Astarion would sigh and dramatically roll his eyes at you, but continue to oblige your long stints alone in the bedchamber, nonetheless. He never mentioned that he only ever interrupted you when you exceeded more than six hours holed up in the bedchamber alone; even a vampire had to bathe and sleep at some point, after all. 

As for Astarion? He was regularly in the middle of meetings or reviewing contracts when you were working on your project, so his time had been allocated a bit differently. He would often prepare his gift while you slept… you’d always needed more sleep than he did. The vampire would slip out of bed and down into the parlor, where he would spend a few hours curled up in the sofa at work before cozying back up to you before you woke. 

Soon enough, it was time for the Midwinter Banquet. It was the Ancunin’s turn to host a dinner party; the Ravengards had just done Highharvestide, the Dekarioses had hosted Midwinter the year prior, and Lae’zel and Shadowheart lived a rather nomadic lifestyle that didn’t allow hosting parties. Technically, it should have been Karlach and Dammon’s first year to host, but as they were fresh newlyweds that had barely purchased a property that same month, you’d kindly offered them a pass.

As was typical for an Ancunin dinner party, the dining hall had been completely decked out by the staff. No surface was left untouched from the beautiful combination of candles, pine trimmings, and bunting you’d roped a reluctant Astarion into helping you string. You were quite proud of the bunting, which was handmade with dried oranges, cranberries, and touches of greenery. 

You were, as always, meandering about the dining room, far too fixated on the most minute details of the table settings. Astarion made his way over to you, as he did every time you hosted a party, to force you from your nervous habit of hyperfixation.

This year you were saddened to immediately notice the absence of Scratch as your husband entered the large wooden doors of the dining hall; the dog had passed that summer. Astarion, out of habit, flexed his fingers downward to make contact with the dog’s scruff, only to drag his fingers through the empty air. You’d seen this maneuver from your husband more than once, and as you watched him enter the dining hall, you made a mental note to find another furry companion soon. He’d never admit he was taking the loss quite hard. 

“Darling, it’s time for you to dress. And, it’s time for us to exchange presents before everyone arrives.” The vampire murmurs, taking your hand and pulling you from the dining hall and into the adjacent parlor, where your presents are sat underneath a tree adorned with baubles and more of that fruit-filled bunting you two spent an entire day crafting. 

You grab the small red and gold package sitting under the pine tree and grin, handing it to your husband. “Here, open mine first.” 

Astarion raises his eyebrow as he examines the package, giving it a little shake as he holds it to his ear. The package doesn’t make a sound, and he hums in idle curiosity as he undoes the red ribbon tied around the gift. You’re practically bouncing with excitement and anticipation as you watch him carefully undo the wrapping. 

“Just tear it!” You exclaim impatiently, and the pale elf chuckles at you and rolls his eyes before obeying your command and tearing the paper off the gift. 

Astarion is speechless as he stares down at the labor of your love. It’s a small painting, roughly the length and width of a book. The painting depicts you and… well, it must be him, cuddled in bed together. His arm is wrapped around your shoulder, and your hand is gripping the fingers dangling from that same arm. The two of you are laughing underneath the familiar maroon and gold bedspread always located on your four-poster bed. He’s in awe of the details: the little fangs in his mouth, his scarlet eyes and the glint within them, the pinprick scars on your neck, and the freckles along your arm. 

“Turn it over.” You whisper, watching as the vampire obliges with wet eyes.

On the back you’ve written: “My Favorite Place” in your delicate, flowing script. And as his scarlet eyes read the words, your husband loses his barely held composure, cold lower lip trembling as salty tears fall over his waterline. He tugs you into a crushing hug, placing repeated kisses in your hair, and you’re beaming because for once you’ve rendered the loquacious vampire speechless.

You’re teary eyed as well when you sniffle and pull away from Astarion. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to get it right. It’s taken me years, my love. I even snuck in lessons on my trips further into the city to meet with the other Counsellors or Wyll. But I hope you can see us how I see us, now.” 

Astarion nods slowly before placing the gift down on the end table, still overcome with sentimentality. He gives a soft chuckle as he wipes his own eyes and then yours. “Well, darling… now I’m quite worried my gift will pale in comparison, to be honest.” 

“Nonsense!” You promise, as you sit down on the sofa and hold your hands out expectantly. You’re bearing a child-like grin as you wiggle your fingers, bidding the vampire to continue on.

Astarion is nervous. You can see it in his crimson eyes and the twitching of his hands as he grabs the silvery package and gives it to you. His ears are flushed in that subtle way that only appears when he’s extremely embarrassed or aroused… though in this case, you’re quite sure it’s embarrassed. 

As you’re unwrapping the gift with much less care than your husband had unwrapped his, the elf in the midst of explaining himself away, “Darling if you end up not liking it, I’m more than happy to—“ 

But he’s interrupted by a thrilled gasp and ecstatic squeals as you lift a heavily embroidered blanket out of the plain wrapping box. 

“Astarion, how could I not love this? This is beautiful!” You exclaim, quickly opening the blanket and draping it over the couch to admire your husband’s stitch work, “I knew you were talented, my love… but I am blown away.” 

Astarion is beaming now, his ears completely red with some combination of embarrassment and excitement at your praise. He comes to your side and places a hand on your waist as the other one points to the bottom corner of the blanket before tracing up the width and then down the length in a repeated clockwise motion. 

“It’s… it’s symbolism, my darling. Of our love story.” He explains in a still-nervous whisper. 

You move closer to examine the piece and your eyes pick out bits of embroidered details between the floral filigree; you notice you recognize many of the plants from your own night blooming garden. As you move in the direction Astarion pointed, you note several obvious points of symbolism: a dagger, stars and a campfire, glasses of wine, that familiar forest clearing lit up by the moon, his old hand mirror, Lathander’s Mace (he’d conveniently left out the fallen crèche he’d saved you from), Moonrise Towers, the Warding Bond rings you two now kept in a jewelry box upstairs… on and on and on.

You follow the story all the way to the center, where there is a beautiful design of the sun, moon, and stars. At first, you think this is in reference to his proposal, but then you realize it would be in the wrong order. You can't quite figure out the meaning.

Your fingers stroke those center celestial stitches, the only pieces done in shimmering gold and silver thread. “And what does this symbolize, my love?” 

Astarion shifts slightly on his feet, fingers still flexing with anxiety. Your brows furrow as you look from the piece to your husband, wondering why he’s still so nervous when you clearly love the gift. He inhales sharply and bends down, putting his hand in the forgotten gift box that you’d all but tossed aside in your excitement. He pulls out a smaller piece of fabric. It's an infant’s blanket. 

You feel your heart stop in your chest as the vampire slowly unfolds the tiny blanket to reveal a beautiful scene of the sun, moon, and stars all done in that same gorgeous, shimmery thread. 

“My love, I… well, I think it might be time that we consider expanding the family. And Gale seems to be making great strides with the Wish Spell preparations and it seems that might be a real possibility soon and—“

You interrupt your husband’s explanation, crashing your warm lips into his cold ones, and he’s knocked off balance, forced to collapse into the sofa by the weight of your body careening into his. When you pull away from him, both of you are grinning like idiots and slightly flushed at the mere thought of such an impossible possibility. You simply give the vampire a little nod, and then break into delighted laughter, soon joined by him. 

Your husband kisses you softly, and then leans towards your ear, voice dropping into that devilish murmur. “How much time do we have before the party, darling? Perhaps we’ll do a test round before we dress. I would like the two of us to be well practiced when the time comes.” 

You smirk at the vampire when he pulls away from you, his face wearing that irresistible cocked eyebrow and a glimmer of playfulness in his scarlet eyes. You press a finger to your lips and feign humming as if in thought. “I think we might have time for one practice round… if you can catch me, that is.” 

“Why you little—” 

You don’t hear the rest of Astarion’s scolding, but you feel his fingers narrowly miss the curve of your hip as he tries and fails to grasp you. You’re off like a bow shot from an arrow, speeding out of the parlor and down the hall toward your bedchamber, swerving around the poor maid with a shouted apology. You’re grinning as you run down the hallway, thinking that for once you won this little game you liked to play with your love. But then Astarion is snapping his arms around your waist just as your hand reaches for the bedroom doorknob, and you’re laughing boisterously as the two of you crash into the bedroom and onto the bed. 

It isn’t until the maid is knocking on the door roughly thirty minutes later, announcing the arrival of the ever-timely Duke Ravengard, that the two of you hurriedly dress and rush out to greet your guests. Your friends would have been none the wiser, too, if it hadn’t been for the little love bites slowly blooming across your chest throughout dinner. Astarion brimmed with hedonistic delight, and perhaps a bit of subtle pride, as everyone slowly realized what you two had been doing moments before the party and tried with all their might to politely avert their eyes.

Sure, you two had been a bit naughty just before everyone arrived… but hells, if it hadn’t been exceptionally nice.  

[probably-writing-x]

Questioning.

Summary: Hi!Love love love your writing🫶🏻🫶🏻Could you write some angst?Like where reader and Conrad argue maybe? Have a good day❣️

You weren’t sure when the irritation had started today. It was just… one of those days. You’d woken up and there was no milk left for your coffee, and the last slice of bread had been eaten. The toothpaste was running low, too, and you had to squeeze the last remains out of it. Nobody had bothered to go to the store yet and your car was blocked in by Jere on the driveway. Someone else had already put their clothes into the laundry but hadn’t bothered to turn the machine on, and you were certain not a single person in this house would ever decide to empty the dishwasher. It was just the little things, and they were irritating when you were living in a house of this many people.

Perhaps it wasn’t any of those things causing the issue. They were just ways of you avoiding what was really stressing you. Last night, Conrad, you and the others had been at a party. You’d left early with Belly when she’d had too much to drink and the boys had stayed. It was just a party at the beach, nothing crazy, but you’d woken up to a text this morning that had turned your stomach sick.

Hey girl! Feel like I need to be honest with you, Conrad was all over Nicole last night. I’d want to know if I were you.

I’m pretty sure I saw them kiss.

Even thinking of the words again made you nauseous, they were rotating over and over in your head. All over her.

“Hey babe,” Conrad speaks softly as he comes downstairs, swinging an arm around the bannister as he turns into the kitchen.

“Hey,” You glance up, trying to scrub a stain out of the countertop.

You couldn’t look at him, too fearful that you’d break down into tears right then and there.

He comes behind you and wraps his arms around your torso. You force yourself to not tense up under his touch, letting out a shaky breath before you say;

“I need you to go to the store,” You comment.

You feel his arms slip from you, “What?”

“Jere’s boxed my car in so I can’t go but we need a whole bunch of stuff. I’ve made a list so I’ll send it to you and-“

“Good morning to you too,” Conrad practically grimaces, stepping back to lean against the counter.

“Sorry, Con, but we’ve got stuff to do today. Susannah and Laurel will be back tomorrow and you know they’ll hate it if the house is in a state.”

“I think they’ll just be glad we didn’t burn the place down,” He scoffs, crossing his arms over his torso.

You turn around and set down the cloth in your hand, wiping your hands. He raises his eyebrows at you like he’s waiting for something so you step forward and stretch up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Please,” You smile.

He narrows his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips, so you kiss him again. This was normal. This was him. The boy that would never hurt you.

“Alright fine,” He agrees, opening up his arms to place them around your waist, “If you insist, your royal highness.”

“Thank you,” You force yourself to smile again, “I’ll send you the list, I’m going to clean the bathroom whilst you’re gone and then-“

“And then when I’m back we can actually enjoy our day? No more stress cleaning,” He encourages, brushing a lock of hair away from your face.

“Okay.”

He leans down and kisses your jaw, once twice three times before stepping away from you to grab his keys. He’d never hurt you. This boy would never hurt you.

“Send me that list!” He calls back to you, disappearing around the corner.

It was all fine, right?

———

Conrad gets back an hour later, carrying in bags and bags of groceries all exactly from your list. You help him put them away and then start busying yourself with tidying up the lounge.

“(Y/n) come on, we’re going surfing,” Conrad encourages, reaching out his hand to you from where he was laying on the couch.

“I don’t-“ You clear your throat, looking away from him, “I don’t really feel like it today.”

He pushes himself up onto his elbows, “Come on, you agreed you’d be done after I got back. The other three are capable of helping too, you know? Just tell Jere to clean.”

You glance at him and quickly glance away. You couldn’t get the words out of your head, as much as you’d tried to avoid them. Everything felt so normal this morning, but it was becoming impossible to convince yourself that it couldn’t be true.

“I-“ You shake your head, tears brimming at your eyes when you look at him, “I can’t today.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” He sits up fully, “What’s going on?”

You let out a shaky breath and shake your head again, “Sorry I just… um… I think there’s dust in my eye or something.”

You hurry off into the nearest bathroom and lock the door behind you, leaning back against the locked door. You can’t fight off the tears at your eyes anymore as they start to trickle down at the corners. In the moment, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, your eyes glazed over and your lip quivering with each exhale.

When you and Conrad first got together, you’d always thought he was too good for you. You knew who he’d been with before you, and you didn’t feel anything like them. You weren’t one of the country club girls, not one of the girls who’d throw themselves at him if he gave them the chance. You just fell in love and he did too. And, as much as he reassured you that you were blind to think he was too good for you, there was always just this little piece biting at you every time you thought about it for too long. Would you ever think you were good enough for him?

You walk over to the sink and look closer at yourself in the mirror, dragging your fingers under both of your eyes to wipe away the remaining tears. Your eyes looked a little red now and your cheeks felt puffy but you ignore it, drawing your shoulders back before walking back out of the bathroom.

Your steps come to a halt when you almost bump into Conrad, stood only a metre from the door.

“(Y/n) why has Shayla just texted you?” He holds your phone out towards you, “And why does it-“

“You looked through my phone?” You question, snatching it back from him.

He scoffs, “It came up on your lockscreen, okay? I didn’t think anything of it. Until I see that it’s Shayla and she’s telling you ‘Id be worried if I were you’.”

You look down at the screen and see the message still sitting there waiting to be read. She’d be worried. Should you be?

You look back up at him, “Well, should I be?”

“Should you what?”

“Should I be worried, Con?” You return, trying to avoid the tremor in your words.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what, forget it, I shouldn’t have said anything,” You shake your head, pushing past him to walk down the corridor.

He hurries after you and his hand reaches out to grab your arm, turning you around, “No, talk to me (y/n). Why did Shayla text you that?”

As you turn around, it doesn’t feel like the same Conrad looking back at you, but it only lasts for a second. His face is so full of worry you’re sure he could break there and then.

“Wh-“ You stop yourself, “What happened after I left last night? At the party, what happened?”

He frowns, his eyes looking between each of yours, “What are you talking about?”

“Tell me what happened.”

He blinks like he’s completely lost but continues, “Okay, you left with Belly. We got a few more drinks, Steven rang Taylor, Jere saw this guy he hooked up with last summer, the keg ran out and it got cold, we walked home.”

You purse your lips together, “Nothing else?”

“(Y/n) if you think something happened I’d rather you just say it because I can’t think of a-“

“Were you with Nicole?”

He raises his brows, “Nicole?” He practically scoffs over her name, “You can’t be serious.”

“Answer the question, Conrad.”

“Okay, yes, I saw her there,” He shrugs, “I didn’t realise that was an important part of the story, I saw her, we said hello, I didn’t see her for the rest of the night.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and pull out your phone with shaking hands, unlocking it and pushing it into his hands, “That’s not what it seemed like to Shayla.”

His eyes scan quickly to read the message and you watch his shoulders drop.

“Is it true?” You ask shakily, tears brewing once again.

“(Y/n)…”

For a second, you’re convinced he’s going to admit to everything and you’re going to feel your heart break beyond words.

“Is this really what you think of me?”

You stop before speaking again, “Conrad I woke up this morning to that text and I-“

“And you believed it?” He half laughs over the word.

“Why wouldn’t I believe it Conrad?” You exclaim, your words catching in your throat.

Conrad pauses.

“I know how things were when you were with Nicole. They were easy and fun and you didn’t have to think about anything. I’m not like that,” You shake your head, biting your lip to stop it from trembling, “I know I’m not who people expect you to be with and I know this isn’t… I just know that people see you with Nicole and they think that’s who it should be, not me.”

“(Y/n),” He looks at you so strongly you’re sure you could crumble, “I chose you. I chose this. And I still choose this. Every single fucking day I choose this. Why can’t you see that?”

“I just… I can’t get the thought of you and her out of my head.”

He laughs, “There is no me and her! There was no me and her last night! But if this is what you think of me (Y/n) then this is a really sad conversation.”

Before you can speak, he swallows the lump in his throat and walks past you, his shoulder bumping yours. You listen to his footsteps receding until the door slams and he’s gone.

Without another thought, every emotion spills from you, dropping to the floor as you sob.

In seconds, the bedroom door opens and Jere and Belly step out, both of them crouching down to wrap you in their arms, holding onto you as much as they were holding you up.

———

You leave the house almost an hour later, forcing yourself out of bed and down towards the short walk to the beach. On your way, you’re already certain that that’s where he’ll be. The place that made him think more clearly. The place where he’d first kissed you.

As you expect, Conrad’s sat just a little way down on the sand, his knees at his chest and his arms draped over them, a burgundy hoodie wrapped around him.

You sit down without a word and his eyes look up from the sea to watch as you do so, following you down until you’re beside him.

Both of you are silent, neither of you willing to break that just yet.

“I’m sorry Con,” You exhale, “I shouldn’t have just jumped to conclusions.”

He shakes his head, looking out at the moving sea, “I should be apologising.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?” You feel the lump form in your throat, as if part of you is so sure he’s about to admit to your worst nightmare.

“I would never cheat on you (Y/n). I’d never even think about looking at another girl like that,” He explains, “But if I’ve made you feel like there’s even the slightest possibility that that’s something I’m capable of, then I’m doing something wrong. Because you shouldn’t feel like that. And you shouldn’t have felt like that today.”

“Con it’s not your fault.”

“It is my fault,” He returns, “Why do you think I would cheat on you?”

You take a deep breath, reaching out to take his hand into yours, watching him visibly relax at the contact, “I love you Connie, and I always have, and you’ve made me feel loved since the first day you kissed me and every day since. But, even with us together, there’s always this part of me that’s so sure I’m just… not enough. And that one day you’ll realise that too. And that’s not you, or Shayla or Nicole or anyone that’s causing that, it’s just me.”

“But (Y/n) I-“

“I know,” You squeeze his hands, “I know you might think it’s stupid and you might think you need to be doing more but it’s just… sometimes it’s hard to believe that you feel that way about me.”

He shifts in his spot so that he’s facing you, reaching both of his hands out to cup your face, “I love you, (Y/n) (Y/l/n). And I don’t care how long it takes, I’ll spend the rest of my life if it takes that long for you to be sure of that. Do you understand me?”

You let out a laugh and tears prick at the sides of your eyes, his thumbs shifting instantly to catch the tears as they fall.

“Now how could I not love you?” He grins, leaning in until his forehead presses against yours.

You rest there for a while, as if you’re breathing in every ounce of love he can offer you, letting out an exhale of every worry of the day.

“Do I love you?” Conrad raises his eyebrows.

You giggle, “You love me.”

[otomiyaa]

Terms & Conditions

Alhaitham x Kaveh

A/N: First fic I'm uploading on the new blog (yolo) and gift for @xsezzie sama pos because, well. Because. The pose in this fic was inspired by this art by @ppystkposts :)

Summary: Alhaitham proposes to discuss the new terms and conditions for living together with Kaveh. (Also on AO3)

Word Count: 1.8K

Letters, a lot of them. Kaveh squinted his eyes and looked up at Alhaitham who had just presented him with a document that would take years of his life, just to read.

"What's this?" he asked. Alhaitham tapped the document as if Kaveh was an idiot.

"A new agreement. I figured, it's been a little over a year since you moved in with me. We can extend the contract, if you like."

Kaveh glared at him, then scanned the huge agreement. It was a long piece of paper with so many letters. What was Alhaitham plotting all of a sudden?

"....Have there been any problems?" Kaveh wondered.

Alhaitham shook his head. "So far, no. But there might be. Sign this and we'll give it another go for the next year."

Kaveh read the beginning of the contract and hummed. How cold. It was a fact that his relationship with Alhaitham had kind of moved on to the more... intimate kind. They kissed, they shared a bed, wasn't that the definition of dating? But yeah, it was also a fact that Kaveh was living here, in Alhaitham's house. It wasn't like they were married or something...

Still, to be treated like a mere tenant, it kind of stung. Was it maybe related to the fact that he lowered Kaveh's rent earlier due to Kaveh really struggling financially? Wasn't it an act out of empathy from Alhaitham, and he had stopped trusting him ever since now that he lived here for a cheap price?

Kaveh sighed, skipped all of the nonsense which was obviously just Alhaitham being boring about guarantees for losing his key, rent payment, Kaveh's list of domestic duties, standard rules about not damaging his belongings and such, so he took the pen Alhaitham handed to him and signed.

"There. Happy? I signed," Kaveh said, and he crossed his arms. Alhaitham nodded.

"Thank you. Well then, that settles it. This agreement is effective starting today. Now as for point 7.2," Alhaitham said, and Kaveh frowned.

"I would like to make use of it immediately. So please," he gestured to the couch. "Come with me."

Kaveh quickly jumped in front of him and stopped him with a hand on Alhaitham's chest.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. Alhaitham grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"The thing you agreed to. The condition for living with me. We are doing it now."

Huh! Kaveh struggled when Alhaitham dragged him towards the couch and managed to pull himself free.

"What do you even meanー" He rushed back to the table and checked the contract again. There were a total of 12 segments, so 7.2 was obviously overlooked like most things he only scanned briefly. It was hidden under the category 'domestic duties' and...

Kaveh's eyes widened and he blushed.

"...Will subject to complimentary tickle session for once a w-w-week? What the...?" Kaveh said in a pitchy voice. His mouth opened wide at the realization that this must be because...

Last night... He blushed even more at the memory.

He kind of tickled Alhaitham brutally, teasing him about his sensitivity and laughter. And then managed to fight him off effectively when Alhaitham tried to return the favor, with Kaveh childishly threatening him to spread the word all around Sumeru about their most ticklish scholar, if he wouldn't let him go. Sumeru already knew how ticklish Kaveh was, so there was no way to return the threat for Alhaitham and he let it rest. Only to retaliate with a comeback like this?!

"I can't believe you included a rule like that. You tricked me. I didn't agree to that."

"Yet you did. You signed your name, I saw it with my own eyes. It's not my fault you didn't read all the terms and conditions. So," Alhaitham sat on the couch and patted his lap.

"Come here. I'll be gentle."

Kaveh took a step back and shuddered. "No way man! You can't make me."

"Well, I won't force you. But I will, how should I put it. I would be very disappointed if you break our contract right after signing it." To make things worse, Alhaitham gave him the worst puppy look he had ever seen on his usually expressionless face.

Kaveh gasped. Alhaitham was such a trickster! And still...! He clenched his fist and stomped towards him.

"Fine. But seriously, once a week?" he asked, moving over to where Alhaitham was sitting.

"Could have been once a day, but I thought that would overdo it. Besides, it's my fingers that will do all the work."

"Or once a month, once a year, or never at all," Kaveh grumbled, shyly sitting on Alhaitham's lap and deciding to ignore that comment about Alhaitham's damn fingers doing 'all the work'.

"Like this?" he asked, leaning back.

"More like this..." Alhaitham said, and before Kaveh could protest, he had flexibly positioned Kaveh's arms under his legs, pinning them down with ease.

"Will keep you from moving around," Alhaitham explained. Well duh, Mr. Obvious. Kaveh squirmed nervously and looked up at him, now suddenly realizing what he had gotten himself into. Willingly...

"H-h-how long?" he asked, gazing at Alhaitham's fingers that were flexing above his tummy. To make things worse, Alhaitham even took his shirt and moved it up, revealing his bare skin.

"Hmm, for as long as you can go," Alhaitham said, wiggling his fingers above Kaveh's bare stomach and making him twitch already.

"A-and who decides that?" Kaveh asked. Alhaitham then smirked.

"I do."

As soon as his fingers made contact with his ticklish tummy, Kaveh instantly made a noise.

"HYAhh! Ahahalhaitham hohohold on!"

"No, we're starting."

"Buhhuhut - ahahaha!" Kaveh wasn't even sure what he was trying to say. After accidentally signing an agreement that included this exact tickle treatment, and then voluntarily letting Alhaitham do his thing, you'd expect he knew what he was getting himself into. But only now that he was really feeling the tickling, it started to sink in, and oh shit he had never been in such a helpless and vulnerable position before.

"I quite like this position," Alhaitham said, pressing Kaveh's arms even tighter against the couch while his fingers danced mercilessly all over his bare stomach, scribbling around and over his belly button and pinching and squeezing his sides every now and then.

"Nohoho! You ahahare the wohohorst!" Kaveh roared.

"I know," Alhaitham agreed. Kaveh thought it was going to be just tummy tickles, again he was such a naive little fool. As soon as Alhaitham's fingers moved further up, pushing his shirt further up and climbing up his ticklish ribs, he jumped and let out a loud hysterical shriek.

"NAHAh nonono not thehehere!" he protested.

"Where?" Alhaitham dug in carefully between his lower ribs and slowly wiggled them upwards where he stayed at his upper ribs, his fingers doing devil's work there. Kaveh was losing his mind.

"PLEhehe-plehehease! Hehehehe! Tihihime out!"

"Already?" Alhaitham asked.

"Soohoon plehehease whahaha!" Kaveh laughed breathlessly. How embarrassing. So humiliating that he couldn't take more than that. But this position in which he really couldn't move, it was like no other tickle attack he had ever experienced. Alhaitham sighed and finally stopped, resting his hands against Kaveh's heaving chest.

"I will let you catch your breath," Alhaitham said, and his eyes shifted for a little. Kaveh's eyes widened, he knew where he was looking.

"N-n-not my ahaharmpits," he laughed nervously.

"I'm sure you can take just a little bit of that. I've been quite gentle so far," Alhaitham said. Gentle! W-well that was true, actually. He hadn't been as rough, as ahem, other times. But yeah, those were entirely different. It was funny they would sometimes roughhouse and have some crazy silly tickle fights, but this 'tickle session' just couldn't compare to it all.

"Ready?" Alhaitham asked.

"No," Kaveh replied cockily, and he stuck out his tongue. So naturally, Alhaitham's fingers reached his armpits and started to tickle. Kaveh threw his head back and howled.

"Daaaahahaahaamn ahahahah!" Alhaitham was relentless. He tickled both armpits for as long Kaveh could endure, but when one hand moved back and picked up the tummy tickle torture, things weren't much better for Kaveh who could hardly breathe through his hysterical laughing fit. His legs kicked helplessly and he shook his head from side to side.

"AHahahalhaithahaham! Nahahah- ahahaha plehehease!"

Alhaitham smirked at him, looking so unbelievably satisfied with himself and his result from his stupid prank.

"AHahaha-ALHAITHAHAM!" Kaveh shrieked.

"Yes?" He finally got a reply.

"AHAhaha! No mohohore! Waahaahha!" Kaveh had no idea how long it had been. But at last, Alhaitham seemed to decide that Kaveh had reached his limit.

Kaveh's arms were released, but he was too tired to move away and just tiredly rested in Alhaitham's lap, breathing heavily and gasping for air.

"That - was - insane," he panted, but he couldn't stop smiling. His voice also sounded like it had changed pitch permanently. Geez. It felt like an entire workout.

For a moment they stayed in silence, and nothing could be heard except Kaveh's loud breaths.

Surprisingly, Alhaitham was the first to speak then. "You didn't read the rest, did you?"

"What rest?" Kaveh asked, annoyed again about that lame agreement trick. He was never going to sign anything ever again without reading every single letter.

"Well," Alhaitham said, and he paused.

"...At 7.2.1. for example, it says that I am only allowed to tickle you that one time a week. So, you'll probably like that. Unless you give me permission to do it more often, of course," Alhaitham explained, caressing Kaveh's hair.

Huh? Alhaitham was so talkative now, Kaveh had to let those words sink in. Hmm, so he could only tickle Kaveh that one time a week, unless Kaveh literally gave him permission to tickle him more?

Even after enduring all this, the sudden thought of limiting Alhaitham's tickle attacks to just once a week... All of a sudden it didn't sound like a lot, he thought as he remembered some of the times when Alhaitham playfully retaliated during tickle fights, and those triumphant moments when Kaveh would win. Not to mention the playful and affectionate tickles when they were in bed... He blushed and mumbled something.

"What did you say?" Alhaitham asked.

"Of all the nonsense on that stinking contract, can you at least revoke that one particular rule? It sucks."

"...7.2.1? The one that forbids me from tickling you ever outside our once-a-week session?" Al-Bastard-Haitham asked.

"...Yes."

Kaveh could die from embarrassment, but luckily the only response from Alhaitham was: "Alright. I think I could do that."

Then in that exact same position, Kaveh fell asleep, resting comfortably on Alhaitham and trapping him on the couch.

Not that Alhaitham complained. He had his book nearby, as always, so he grabbed it and started to read, while his free hand fondly stroked Kaveh's hair. Now that felt actually really good.

Note: This fic was loosely inspired by the movie Wonka.

[dayyydr3amm3rr]

BLURB ft Marie Moreau

BLURB of…having a rough day and just needing your girlfriend and your partner to cheer you up

***************

Warnings//Pure fluff with a bit of sexual tension, mainly cute and funny

Things to know// Reader is female, mentions of titties…bugs of titty talk, very short. Just a little tidbit as I try to work up the courage to continue my IMAGINE⚠️ series 😬 I have so many ideas yet not enough time

***************

You hadn’t even bothered to say hello when you walked into Jordan’s dorm room. You had just sighed obnoxiously loudly as you walked in, tossing your bag aside and kicking your shoes off earning an annoyed teeth click from Jordan as you plopped yourself right onto their bed. Not hearing either of your lovers even say hi to you, you glance around and let out another sigh again, that one more dramatic than the last one. Jordan had rolled her eyes, glancing over towards you with a raised eyebrow and a small smirk, Marie had glanced up from where she was a small smile on her face as she tilted her head at you.

“Hi, baby…everything okay?” She asked, glancing over towards Jordan while stifling a small laugh. You sigh for a third time, glancing away dramatically. “I had a bad day…have I mentioned how much I hate one of my professors?” Jordan snorted at your words. “Yeah…you only complain about her every chance you get..” Marie shot Jordan a look before moving over to where you were, sitting down on Jordan’s bed, looking down at you. “Yeah? Do you need anything? Wanna order some takeout?” Marie suggested softly.

“Titties…I want titties please!” You hummed, causing both Jordan and Marie to freeze before they both looked at you. “Excuse me?” Jordan asked, turning away from their desk. You sigh again and hold your hands up, palms turned towards your face as you squeezed your fingers a few times, as if you were squeezing titties that weren’t there. “Titties…wanna bury my face in ‘em…please and thank you!” You hummed. Both Marie and Jordan snorted out laughs. “What? You just want us to strip our tops off for you and let you just nuzzle on in between us?” Jordan snorted.

You breathe through your nose roughly, glancing over towards your partners. “I said please…I preferably want them in my mouth…but I’ll make due with what I get…so a nuzzle would be fine…maybe even a small motorboat…” you listed, a dopey smile on your face as you stared up at the ceiling. You were nodding to yourself…as if you full heartedly agreed with yourself and your words. Jordan did a better job at concealing their snort of amusement while Marie let out a chuckle, shaking her head.

“Titties? You simply want…titties? Well…what if I don’t feel like taking my shirt off and Jordan doesn’t feel like being in their female form when cuddling you?” Marie teased, raising her eyebrows towards a (at the moment, female Jordan), who rolled her eyes as she glanced over towards you two on her bed. You simply shrug, still focusing on the ceiling. “I’ll bury my face in some man-titties…I don’t mind..” Marie has to turn away as she nearly falls over with laughter, causing Jordan to snort and let out a few chuckles herself.

“Oh my fucking god…” Jordan whispered, watching as you continued to ramble, lost in your own little fucked up world. “Would they still be squishy, you think?” You asked. “…What?” Marie asked, glancing over towards Jordan. “Jordan’s man-titties…” you answered. “Keep up with the program, babe…I have some serious questions here.” You added. Jordan shook her head as she glanced between Marie and you. “Like…think about it—“—“Let’s not—“—“Jordan’s invincible in their male form, right? Which means that incoming physical attacks have no affect on them…do you think if I tried to squeeze their man-titties—“ “—Can we stop calling them man-titties, please?—“ “—would their tits just…not move?” You wondered, paying no mind to Jordan’s interjections.

Marie’s eyes widen as she too now thinks about it. “Wait…” Jordan looks over in disbelief at their girlfriend. “Not you too!” They spoke. Marie raised her shoulders in defense as she tried to hold back a smile. “I mean! It’s not my fault! Y/n brought up a good point…” she tried to defend herself while throwing you under the bus. You and Marie are looking over towards Jordan with wide eyes as you both silently debated the question. Jordan’s cheeks flushed slightly as they looked between you and Marie and they suddenly realized that that night…was going to be a long night…

TAGLIST: @baeberry-2005, @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @dayylighhtt