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propertyofwicked · 7 months ago

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INTERMEDIATE - LN

╭──╯ . . . . . the five times max tried to set his best friends up, and the one time it actually worked. . . . . . ╰──╮

PART TWO FOR ROOKIE (can be read as standalone)

warnings: none really, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption and minor sickness

this was so highly requested hehe! im glad you all loved rookie :) lemme know what you think! ✧ my inbox is open ✧

masterlist the playlist

Ⅰ

max fewtrell had been plotting for weeks. the annual karting gala was fast approaching, and he had the perfect plan to set up his two best friends. max managed to get himself a date and orchestrated the perfect excuse for y/n to accompany lando as his date, knowing that he was invited but y/n, not being a karter, wasn't. since the trio were somewhat inseparable, it made sense.

and it had worked - the three of them headed to the gala together, max’s date meeting them there, the atmosphere buzzing with music, laughter, and the clinking of champagne glasses. the drinks flowed freely, and the dance floor was packed. lando and y/n however, in their boredom of black-tie events, decided to see who could drink the most. much to max’s dismay, the two of them could never back down from a challenge, and seemingly formed a crowd of people to see them take on this challenge - which resulted in the two of them finding new dance partners for the evening.

this wasn’t max’s plan - he needed them to dance together, not with other people.

but then, y/n had left the dance floor, stumbling over to lando whilst holding her dress up as to not trip over it.

“lando?" she said, her voice shaky, and her eyes widening as she looked up at him.

this is it. they're going to kiss max had thought to himself, watching from only a few metres a way.

but instead, y/n's expression changed to one of distress. "i think im going to be sick."

or not, max thought, quickly springing into action.

lando immediately took charge, his hand sliding around her waist and guiding her towards the nearest bathroom with max following close behind. they managed to get her to a stall just in time. lando held her hair back, his touch gentle and reassuring as she emptied her stomach.

"im so sorry," y/n mumbled, her voice weak and apologetic. "i’ve ruined the night."

lando shook his head, his tone soft and caring. "don't worry about it. it’s ok. you’re ok."

meanwhile, max was on the phone, trying to get hold of y/n’s mum. "hi, it's max. im with y/n - she’s ok, but she’s had a bit too much to drink. could you come pick her up?"

as they waited for her mum to arrive, lando stayed by her side, stroking her hair softly as he poured water into her mouth less than graciously. max watched them, frustrated his plan had failed, but his heart warming by the way lando cared for y/n.

Ⅱ

max was determined. the karting gala might not have gone as planned, but he saw another opportunity to set up his two best friends at a house party. he thought a good game of truth or dare would be the perfect catalyst.

the party was in full swing when the group gathered in the living room, max quickly suggested playing truth or dare to which everyone agreed. the game started with light-hearted questions and dares. when it was lando's turn, max seized his moment.

"i dare you to kiss the person next to you," max said with a smirk, confident in his plan since y/n was seated to one side of Lando.

lando, however, had other ideas. his head looked to y/n besides him for a moment and then at niran on his other side, as though he was weighing up his options. then, he turned and pressed a light kiss to niran's forehead, catching everyone off guard. max’s jaw dropped in disbelief, while the rest of the group burst into laughter.

"that doesn't count!" someone shouted, still laughing.

"max didn't specify where," lando retorted, grinning cheekily, holding his hands up in defence.

“lando! how could you not kiss me? im heartbroken," she teased, holding her chest dramatically, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

when the game finally ended, max excused himself to the kitchen, shaking his head at how his plan had backfired yet again. niran, sensing an opportunity for some fun, followed him into the kitchen.

"you know," he said, leaning against the counter, "next time, maybe we should play seven minutes in heaven?"

max looked up, intrigued but sceptical, "you think that'll work?"

"it's worth a shot. at least then lando can't dodge the dare by kissing my forehead," niran shrugged, a playful grin on his face.

in the living room, lando and y/n were chatting and laughing, completely oblivious to max and niran's conversation. and as the night wore on, max’s determination remained undeterred. their bond was undeniable and he would go to any lengths for his efforts to pay off.

Ⅲ

lando decided to host a game night at his house - max was convinced that without being the host, he couldn't plan any elaborate setups. the evening kicked off with enthusiasm, everyone excited for a night of fun and games, with lando eventually suggesting they play drunk twister.

"…and every time you lose, you drink," he explained with a mischievous grin.

the game started off well, with everyone mostly sober. lando was winning, especially since his strength helped him keep his body in place. however, as the drinks kept flowing, max saw his opportunity. once they were all sufficiently tipsy, he took over spinning the twister board, calling out positions for lando and y/n.

at one point, max managed to have y/n essentially straddling lando’s waist, her legs balancing precariously on either side of him. this is perfect, max thought with satisfaction. he then told lando to move his leg, and when it was y/n’s turn, her hand slipped. the sudden loss of balance caused lando's leg to jolt out, causing y/n to tumble fully, twisting her ankle and hitting her head on the coffee table.

"who put that table there?" lando groaned in frustration as he rushed to assess the source of blood streaming down her face.

"erm… that would be you?" max snorted, trying to suppress his laughter but quickly becoming serious about y/n’s condition, deciding that hospital was probably the best call of action.

“lando, you should call her mum. i had to do it last time,” he whispered, as y/n slept next to them, the painkillers they had given her had wiped her out completely.

lando groaned as he dialled the number. it was 2am, so he wasn’t surprised when he got her voicemail.

"hi y/m/n, it’s lando - just letting you know y/n is in the hospital, but she’s fine. probably,” he added before hanging up.

“probably?” y/n called out groggily, still waking up, “she’s gonna worry more now you idiot.”

“im so sorry for hurting you," he said hurriedly, grabbing her hand and gently stroking his thumb along her skin.

"it’s ok, lan - i promise. as you said, im fine," y/n insisted with a small smile, "just remember to move the table next time."

“next time?”

“it was fun until i…you know,” she trailed off, using her free hand to gesture to her body laying in the hospital bed.

max watched the exchange with a resigned smile. despite his failed attempts and the chaos that ensued, it was clear how much lando cared for her. maybe, just maybe, things would eventually fall into place naturally.

Ⅳ

with an upcoming quadrant project, max found himself with the responsibility of finding accommodation for the team. he found a cosy airbnb and meticulously assigned the rooms, ensuring that everyone had their own space, other than y/n and lando - though neither of them minded. they’d been friends for so long that sharing a bed didn’t seem like a big issue.

when the team arrived at the airbnb, they were greeted by the chilly winter air, before max led them through the house, pointing out their rooms. to his surprise, and annoyance, lando and y/n’s room actually had two single beds, not the anticipated double bed.

nevertheless, max was determined to see his plan through, quietly turned off the heating, hoping the cold would drive lando and y/n to share a bed for warmth. the evening progressed, with everyone started commenting on how cold the house was.

“i am freezing my tits off,” y/n announced as she walked into the room, throwing herself down on the sofa next to lando.

"if it gets too cold tonight, we can always cuddle up together,” lando said, nudging y/n with a grin.

finally, max thought to himself, a plan was finally working.

“as much as i want to have you snoring directly in my face all night, and trust me i do - my dad taught me a bit about plumbing when i was younger. let me see if i can fix the heating,” she announced, to which the group felt elated to hear, fearing they would freeze to death in their sleep.

max’s heart sank as he watched y/n head to the heating system, fiddling with it for a few minutes before triumphantly declaring, "got it! it doesn’t seem like it was broken, just turned off. maybe the airbnb hosts turn it off between guests to save money?"

“guess we won’t get to spoon tonight after all,” she added, looking at lando with fake sadness.

max had never hated her competent parents more than he did at this very moment.

later that night, as the group gathered in the living room, warmed by the now functional heating, lando and y/n were nestled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket together as they usually did.

lando leaned over to y/n, his mouth settling near her ear as he whispered, "watching max sabotage his own plans is funny - we should do this more often.”

y/n giggled, adding, "maybe next time we can teach him how to actually break the heating."

“it's my favourite sport, right after driving,” lando added, laughing softly before sitting up again.

max was beginning to realise that his plans weren’t working because he was trying to make them fall in love with each other. they were already in love, he just needed to make them talk about it.

Ⅴ

determined to help them confront their emotions, he devised a master plan. so, when he moved into his new house, he invited them over to help build furniture.

as they assembled pieces in one of the rooms, y/n soon realised she needed a specific sized screwdriver but she couldn’t find it anywhere.

“well it hasn’t just grown legs has it?” lando teased, though helping her lift boxes to see if it had fallen beneath them.

"it might be downstairs. ill go have a look," he said, casually closing the door behind him. he knew it was downstairs - he had intentionally left it downstairs after loosening the screws on the door.

the moment the door shut, the handle fell out, leaving y/n and lando trapped inside - max was convinced that forcing them into close proximity would make them talk about their feelings.

“shit, sorry guys - bare with me whilst i try and fix it!” he called out, smiling to himself thinking about how great his plan was and how it couldn’t possibly go wrong.

however, he had forgotten one crucial detail - y/n was scared of being locked in small confined spaces. they had discovered this fact following a unfortunate attempt at seven minutes in heaven.

the reality of their situation set in, and y/n began to panic - her chest tightening as her breathing became fast and heavy.

"hey, it's okay. we're not stuck forever. we'll get out of here," he said softly, opening a window to let in some fresh air and sitting beside her. his arm wrapped around her instinctively, pulling her into his side as his hand found her hip, drawing patterns into her jeans with his fingers in attempt to ground her.

both of them were angry at max, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. they had somewhat discussed being together before, but lando’s busy career made things complicated. and now, he had gone too far, forgetting y/n’s anxiety in a bid to get his own plan to work.

"deep breaths," Lando murmured, holding her hand and gently stroking her back. "that’s it. max didn’t mean any harm. he just wants to see us happy."

y/n nodded, her breathing slowing as she leaned into lando, his hand coming up to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

“i know. i just hate being trapped, and i know he means well but i wish he’d just chill out," she breathed out, her voice still wobbly as she tried to regulate her emotions.

they both sat quietly for a moment, looking at each other deeply, her anxiety dissipating, unspoken feelings lingering in the air. lando’s head moved closer to hers first, tentatively pressing his lips to hers. he wasn’t surprised when she kissed him back, her hands moving to his shoulders to lift herself up slightly as he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping her lower lip gently.

"almost got it!" max called out quickly from behind the door, interrupting the two.

lando and y/n quickly pulled apart, managing to compose themselves just as max opened the door and rushed in.

"im so sorry y/n. i really didn't mean t- i don’t even know ho-,” he stuttered, moving down to hug her quickly.

y/n forced a smile, her heart still racing.

"it's okay, max. i’m fine, i promise,” she reassured him, her arms moving to hug him back.

♧

it wasn’t rare for lando, max and y/n to constantly be in each others houses. any free time they had at least two of them were together, and it had been the same for the entire time they had known each other. that week, they had all taken residence at max’s house to finish the final touches to the new quadrant video before posting it.

the early morning sun was shining through the kitchen windows as y/n rummaged through the cabinets, looking for a mug for her morning tea. noticing her struggle, lando walked over to stand behind her, his chest brushing against her back as he stretched to reach the mug from the top shelf.

"here you go, short-arse," he said, handing it to her with a smile, before moving across the counter to flick the kettle on.

"thanks," y/n replied, ignoring his nicknaming, "want some breakfast?"

"depends what you’re making," lando said, his eyes twinkling, “i would love some pancakes right now.”

“tough shit - im making cereal,” she responded bluntly, smiling sarcastically at him, before moving to grab the box of cornflakes from the cupboard.

“from scratch? that’s impress- OW,” he yelped, feeling the box of cereal hit him in the face.

“can we not use my cereal as a weapon please?” max announced as he walked into the room, rubbing the grogginess from his eyes.

“sorry dad,” y/n replied jokingly, sticking her tongue out at lando when max moved to open the fridge. she turned to start making breakfast, but in her movement she ended up knocking a spoon off the counter.

“fuck,” she muttered as she bent down to pick it up, lando watching on before quickly placing his hand on the corner of the counter, preventing her from hitting her head on the way up.

"careful," he murmured softly, as her forehead made contact with his hand.

later in the day, lando found himself sat on the sofa, scrolling through the comments on quadrants new video, where he had taught y/n how to kart.

y/n walked in, sighing deeply as she plopped down on the sofa next to him, her head finding a comfortable spot on his lap. lando didn't miss a beat - instinctively he began to stroke her hair, his fingers moving gently through the strands.

"you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

y/n closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. "just tired," she whispered.

max walked into the room soon after, though stopping in his tracks as he saw the two of them. he shook his head with a bemused smile.

“you wanna read the comments?” lando asked as max took a seat on the chair opposite them.

the two of them nodded in unison, y/n shuffling around to sit up as lando’s arm rested on the back of the sofa behind her. they sat quietly, reading through the comments as max scrolled through them on his own phone.

they were accustomed to reading feedback from fans, but this time, something caught them off guard. the comments were filled with remarks about how good lando and y/n would be as a couple and how fans couldn't believe they weren't already together.

lando glanced at y/n, both of them slightly amused - they were sort of used to this, but every comment seemed to mention it.

"are you seeing these comments?" lando asked, raising an eyebrow.

“i know! i can't believe how many people want us to be together."

“you know, they're not wrong. we would be great together,” he replied, entirely unfazed.

"absolutely. it makes sense i guess," she nodded in agreement, shrugging casually.

“well that’s established then,” lando stated before moving the conversation, “should we get pizza?”

“up to you,” y/n responded with a smile, before resting back into the sofa, lando’s arm thrown over her shoulders.

max sat still, watching the whole interaction in utter bewilderment.

"what have i just witnessed?” he started, eyes darting between the two quickly, “seventeen years of seeing you two interact, and you just casually decided you're together and then sorted out what you're having for dinner?"

"yeah, pretty much,” y/n laughs, leaning into lando’s side as she shoots a grin at max, who’s jaw just dropped in disbelief.

"are you serious right now?" he continued. lando leaned back, crossing his arms with a confident grin.

"it's not like we’ve not kissed before," lando added, still grinning.

"YOU'VE KISSED?" max shouted, his eyes widening further.

y/n and lando exchanged a knowing look, both bursting into laughter at max's reaction, their casual approach to this new development was seemingly more surprising than the news itself.

“we probably would’ve gone further if you hadn’t fixed that door,” y/n added, still laughing as max smiled to himself.

“you’re plan finally worked mate,” lando laughed out, watching max’s face contort into shock.

“my pla-? when did you work it out?”

“sometime between you turning off the heating and the time you pretended to be sick so we had to go to dinner just the two of us.”

“yeah the table for two and the candles was a big giveaway.”

“i need to lay in a cold dark room please - excuse me,” max said finally, picking his jaw up from the floor before walking out in complete silence.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked

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buckets-and-trees · 6 months ago

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Whining to Bucky that you're horny, but also that it's too hot and you're too sticky for sex 😫

Title: Too Hot Characters/Pairings: Bucky x Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 700 Summary: Standalone part of the Desperate to Devoted story. Summer in the city. Heatwave. Too hot. Boyfriend doesn't care.

Content/Warnings: established relationship, vaginal fingering, excessive heat wave, vibranium arm special features

Author Notes: IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO READ ANY OF THE REST OF THIS SERIES. True stand-alone but does take place after Big Conversation, so they're at the point of an established, committed relationship. Week six of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - the prompt was "I won't be able to stop myself." Also filling my April box for Build-a-Bucky Bingo with the "gradually moving in together" prompt.

Flat on your back on your bed, you heard the buzz of your phone on the mattress next to you, but you didn’t want to move.

You’d finally edged out of being miserably hot after laying under the ceiling fan and enough of the day’s heat wave levels of heat only just beginning to dissipate outside.

Checking the text would require moving, and your limbs still felt like too much of a burden.

Bzz.

You weren’t sure if it was another text or the reminder that you had an unopened message, so you didn’t open your eyes.

Bzz.

You smiled and finally reached for the phone. Only one person would be sending you multiple texts.

Bucky.

Lifting the phone and opening your eyes, you saw you were right and unlocked the screen to read the messages.

BUCKY: Just landed, will head your way as soon as we debrief.

BUCKY: I know it’s only been two days, but I missed you like crazy!

BUCKY: Should I pick up something for dinner?

BUCKY: Can’t wait to hear your laugh and feel your lips against mine you have me crazy for you…

Your smile turned into a grin, and you rolled over onto your stomach and began typing your reply.

YOU: No food, only ice cream. Too hot.

YOU: Missed you, too, but no touching. Too hot!

You sent the red, hot-faced emoji for good measure.

His reply came through a few moments later.

BUCKY: No can do, I’m dying to sink my cock into your cunt.

Your stomach instantly flipped reading those words.

“Fuck you, Bucky Barnes.”

YOU: Hot is winning over horny.

At least for now. Though your core was feeling enticed, the rest of your body rebelled against the thought of the heat of another body anywhere close to you.

BUCKY: We’ll see about that… I won’t be able to stop myself.

Your stomach flipped again.

Six months ago, Bucky was the man you begrudgingly worked with when assigned to missions for his team, and now he was your insatiable boyfriend.

YOU: When you get here you might change your mind…

An hour later, you heard Bucky’s key turning in the lock of the front door. He hasn’t moved into your place, but he’s over often enough now that you gave him a key.

“Damn,” he said, voice raised enough for you to hear him in the other room, though your place isn’t terribly large. “I had no idea it was this hot!”

“Air conditioning is out,” you replied. You heard him setting a couple of bags on the counter – likely food he picked up. “They have someone coming tomorrow to look at it.”

“You should’ve gone to my place,” he said, “even when I’m not there, you’re always wel-,” he paused when he stepped into the bedroom doorway, “-come.”

He groaned.

“Do not even touch me,” you warned in all seriousness.

“This is not fair,” he replied. “You expect me to leave you alone when I haven’t seen my girl in two days, and you’re laid out in only your underwear on the bed?”

“I do not want any skin on my skin, Barnes.”

It was a testament to how hot you were that your brain had not even come close to thinking of the key Bucky had also given to you to his place.

You didn’t open your eyes, too exhausted from the heat, but you could feel his gaze roaming over your form.

“You’re making this hard in more ways than one,” he grumbled.

“I’m resigned to my melted fate.”

The mattress dipped with Bucky’s weight, and you groaned. “No.”

But then you gasped and your eyes flew open when very cold vibranium fingers skimmed up your inner thigh.

“No?” he chuckled.

“I didn’t know you could…?” you trail off, distracted when his fingers slip beneath the gusset of your panties and begin to tease your wet folds.

“It’s not a feature I usually need.”

You gripped the cool metal of his arm, holding him firm against your pussy.

“I want one orgasm from my girl, and then we’re staying the night at my place. It’s too hot here for anything, and definitely too hot for everything I want to do with you tonight.”

You whimpered and let your legs fall open when two of his fingers entered your aching hole. “Deal, absolute fucking deal,” you agreed.

....I'm sure that was not the intention when Suri programmed his limb to be able to drastically change temperature, but certainly coming in handy at this moment. 😏

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #babb2023 #hotbuckysummer2024 #aspen wrote something #askpen #eva #desperate to devoted

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obliviouscxnt · 1 year ago

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Nightmare Azriel x Reader

a/n: oh my god, I’m actually so shocked by the feedback from the last fic. It gave me the serotonin and motivation to write a part two :o I'm probably going to make this into a series, I have many ideas!! Maybe some smut if I'm feeling brave... thank you so much, I hope you enjoy! :))

can be read as a standalone, but without some context from pt.1 things might become confusing

synopsis: your need to help gets you into trouble

Warnings: strong(?) hints of sexual activities, minor angst, minor violence, fluff

pt. 1 | pt.3

In the corner of his eye, he can see you picking at your fingers. Your sharp nails do unnecessary damage to your fragile hands.

He knew you were worried for Feyre, ever since she’d been taken to the spring court you’d been on edge.

It went beyond a loyal subject worrying about her High Lady. You fretted for Feyre like you would Amren, or Rhys, or Mor, or Cassian.

Though it was endearing in a way, Azriel didn’t like the way that worry manifested. The way you unknowingly damaged yourself. Your bottom lip was split open from gnawing on it, the skin on your fingers was peeled back and inflamed, and dark circles found their place under your eyes from sleepless nights. Unable to really rest when your friend was in the jaws of the spring beast.

His shadows reach for you, demanding to be with you.

He let a few of them loose, watching as they traveled to you instantly. One settled at your hands, weaving between each of your fingers and curling around your wrist. Another rested on your shoulder, brushing your face. The others couldn’t decide where to settle, traveling over your body frantically as they tried to comfort you.

The shadowsinger was about to pull them back, but as soon as they felt his pull they settled in whichever place they could. Nuzzling against you. Desperate to stay with you, comfort you.

Azriel found it amusing, and so utterly relatable.

He forces his attention back to the papers on his desk. Which was more than a struggle.

It was an impossible task, staring at building diagrams and reading reports from his spies, when the most magnificent woman he’d ever known sat not three feet from him.

Then he felt your eyes on him, and he knew there was no point even trying. He wouldn’t be able to focus.

He meets your gaze and arches a perfect brow.

You wanted to ask him something. That much was obvious. But you hesitated, you didn’t know if he would say yes.

“What is it?”

You glanced down at your hands, then up at him, then back down at your hands. “May I go see Rhys?” Your voice is small as you ask.

When you heard the shadowsinger sigh you knew what the answer would be.

Azriel ran a hand through his hair as he watched you.

You had been asking that a lot recently, and at first he allowed it. He saw no harm in you sitting with his brother, helping him when he needed help, listening when he checked in on Feyre through their bond. He knew his brother didn’t mind, he understood your anxiety and shared it with you tenfold. But Rhysand had a lot to deal with, so for that reason, Azriel shook his head.

“Rhys is very busy.” He starts, extending an open hand toward you. Smile tugging at his lips when you walk around the desk and place your hand in his. “Feyre is strong, she can handle herself.” He assures you as he pulls you to stand between his legs, letting his hands soothe your body. Letting his shadows join him.

But he can tell by how tense you were that his assurance wasn’t helping.

His fingers thread through your hair. “You want to help Feyre, is that it?” His thumb brushed over your jaw as you nod. “Why don’t you pay her sisters a visit? I’m sure that would ease some of her stress, to know that you’re there for them like you were for her.”

He watched some light enter your eyes and almost smiled in victory. You were so enthralled with the idea, you tried to run out of his office to visit them right at that moment. He caught you, pulling you back against him until you sat in his lap. “Tomorrow.” He breathed.

You leaned into him, coaxed by his hands. Sighing as his mouth plants wet kisses down your neck, shivering when you feel his tongue come out to lick over your pulse.

Azriel let himself get lost in you. In feeling you against him. In bathing in your scent.

He doesn’t let himself second guess his suggestion, even though there was a very reasonable voice in his head that was kicking him. A voice that berated him for being so foolish. That screamed to just let you see Rhys. That begged to keep you far, far away from Nesta Acheron.

But that voice is drowned out by his need for you.

He groans when you turn around in his lap, straddling him, shimmering black dress riding up your thighs. His hands immediately find purchase on them, squeezing. While yours tangle in his hair.

You pant, lips parted as your eyes run over him. Stopping at his lips, his eyes, his mouth, his neck, the hands that squeezed your thighs when you looked at them. You were mesmerized by him.

You needed him. Gods, you needed him.

He kissed you like a starved beast. You moaned when his tongue brushed over the roof of your mouth, eliciting a hum from him. His hands slid up to your hips so he could grind you against him, hiking your dress up with them.

You feel him harden beneath you.

“What do you want?” He asks against your lips, kissing them again, then kissing along your jaw, and then kissing back down your neck. Latching on to the spot that had your hands gripping his hair, your thighs tightening around his hips.

“I…” You try, but words won’t form, only sounds.

He parts with your neck to lean his head against yours. Looking in your eyes. Pulling back a bit when you move to kiss him. Hands now holding your hips still against him, torturing you with the feeling of him pressed against you.

Your eyes plead with him, your sharp nails almost digging into his scalp as you lost yourself, and he can’t stop the smirk of pure satisfaction from spreading across his face. “Tell me what you want.”

You shudder when you feel him twitch underneath you. “Please.” His hands squeeze your hips. “Please. Use me.”

The groan that left his mouth had to be the most sinful thing you’d ever heard.

*****

Anxiety chews on your mind, spits it out, and chews it back up again. You wring your shaking hands.

Before you was the door that separated you from the Acheron sisters.

You knew of them, knew what they were like from what Feyre had told you. And now that you were thinking about it, you didn’t want to help them. Not for their sake.

But for Feyre… You’d started coming to terms with the fact that you’d do just about anything for her.

However, that didn’t stop your heart from beating so fast you were afraid it would fail.

Azriel’s hands rest on your upper arms and he leans down to your ear. “Breathe.” You absentmindedly lean into him, relishing in the feeling of his lips brushing your ear. His breath fanning across your cheek.

“If you can’t handle this we’ll go back.” He says, making it very obvious that he wouldn’t mind curling back up in bed with you. You exhale a shaky breath as his hand slowly slides over your breast, your nipple hardens under the silky fabric of your dress and he traces it with his finger. You were seriously debating it.

But your need to help in some way, to do something useful wins.

“I can handle it.” You say, sounding not at all sure of yourself.

But he listens, moving his hands to rest back on your arms. Thumbs drawing calm circles.

You give yourself a moment to breathe. Leaning your head back against his chest. Feeling your stomach flip when his lips press against your head.

When you were finally ready he opened the door for you. You took one more futile deep breath, all the air in the world wouldn’t be able to tame your emotions, then walked in with a friendly smile plastered on your face.

You immediately wished you’d accepted his offer to go back to bed when the harsh eyes of the oldest Acheron sister settled on you. There was no mistaking who was who.

“What are you?”

Her words were like a physical blow. Her voice, colder than ice. You step back bumping into Azriel’s chest.

He rests a hand on your shoulder as if to say, we can still go back. But you’d made your choice, you were here to offer your help. If they didn’t want it, then fine, but you would still offer it.

“A friend,” You manage to say. Her cruel gaze felt like a physical weight on your being. So scrutinizing, so full of hate. It’d been a while since someone cast eyes like that your way. Azriel had been careful to make sure of that. “Of Feyre’s.”

Her stare narrows on you. Drinking you in. You watch her gaze snag on your pointed teeth. You close your mouth. Whatever you were about to say dying in your throat.

“Some friend.”

Azriel glared at Nesta, the warning clear on his face. Say no more. He puts a hand on your lower back, guiding you to where the other sister sat, on a chair in front of a window.

The weight of Nesta's stare never left you.

But when you see Elaine, all of it ceases to matter.

All thoughts left your brain. Not unlike how you got sometimes with Azriel—when all the pleasure became too much—but also completely different. It wasn’t Azriel guiding you now.

It was what lived inside you, the writhing magic that was always thrumming under your skin.

Your brain doesn’t register how the girl looks, hollow; as if someone scooped all the life out of her. Your brain doesn’t register a thing except the irresistible pull.

You could feel it, or her, calling to you. Beckoning you closer.

You couldn’t refuse.

When your mind came back to your body, you stood directly in front of Elaine. Your palm cupping her face.

Then you felt something awful slither into your head. It slipped through the crevices of your mental barriers and crawled into a dark corner of your mind. Hiding from you, even though you could feel it watching.

Nausea overcame you. You snatch your hand back like she burned you. Shuffling back toward Azriel who looked at you with concern.

Then Elaine's eyes closed. Nesta rushed to her sister as she went unconscious. Almost falling out of her chair. The older Acheron managed to catch her in time with help from Azriel’s shadows.

You turned to Azriel. “I want to go.” Your words barely a whisper.

His eyes widen when he sees the fear on your face. The horror. His shadows encompass you, providing your body with a cover, a shield.

“What did you do?!” Nesta shouted through pants of fatigue, having just lugged her sister to bed. You gripped Azriel’s shirt and he held you close to him as he led you out. Away from the screaming woman. “What did you do to my sister?!”

*****

“What happened?”

You swallowed at your High Lord, glancing at Azriel. For what? You didn’t know. Help? Comfort maybe? Whatever it may be you didn’t receive it. All you got was a nod in Rhysand’s direction.

So you turn back, struggling to find your words under his serious gaze. Not harsh, but very, very serious. “I don’t know. She looked so tired… I just—It felt like she was calling to me.” Trying not to think about that thing you could still feel hiding. Still, feel looking at you with eyes you couldn’t see.

He waved for you to continue.

“She’s fine.” You say, and somehow find yourself completely sure of those words. Though you had watched her pass out with your own eyes. Knew it was your doing.

“How do you know that? This is different. Even Azriel said he’s never seen you do something like that before.” You look down at your hands, picking at the already torn skin.

You don’t dare look up when you feel Rhys rise from his seat. Feel him walk around his desk until he’s in front of you. It's when he speaks that you feel the need to meet his stare.

He holds a hand over your head. “May I?”

Azriel steps forward. Looking as if he were about to protest. Rhys shoots him a look that makes him stop.

Rhys needed to know what happened, to make sure you didn't harm his mate's sister. The bond took control of his instincts. Your word wouldn't suffice.

You’d never deny your High Lord a request. Never deny any of your friends a request. You never had before, Azriel always had to step in and do it for you.

So when you stiffly shook your head no, well, to say they were shocked would be an understatement.

Your whole body was tense as if just the act of refusing took everything out of you. Required every bone, every muscle, and every bit of air in your body.

But you couldn’t risk that thing infecting Rhys. Not when you didn’t know what it was. Not when you could feel its hungry stare.

You held your breath until Rhysand’s hand dropped to his side.

Your felt physically ill. The weight of what you just did settling on you. You stiffly turned to Azriel.

“I want to go.” You said for the second time that day.

Azriel’s brows dipped as he looked at you, worry covering his features. His shadows were restless, flicking with agitation as they too struggled to see you so bothered.

He glances at Rhys but the High Lord gives him a look of sympathy. “I need to speak with you.”

The shadowsinger’s jaw clenched. Wanting nothing more than to refuse, to point out the state you were in even though it was as clear as day.

But he couldn’t say no to his brother, not after all he’d done for them.

He walks you to the office door, turning you to face him before you can leave. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your head. His words were nothing but breath against your ear. A whisper for only you to hear. “Go to bed. I’ll join you soon.” But you didn't walk away, looking unsure, nervous. “Go.”

Your only consolation, as you left, were the shadows that parted with him and linked with you.

Once you were far enough down the hall the High Lord spoke. “What was she thinking?” He paced in front of his desk. “She knows her magic is dangerous… did she even read those books Helion sent?” He swallowed as he remembered the limited information those three books had, the only books that made any mention of dreamwalkers.

“Of course, she read them, you asked her too.” Azriel said, bite in his tone. Making Rhys sigh and stop his pacing. The High Lord sends an apologetic look to his brother as he sits on the front of his desk. “She wasn’t thinking,” Azriel says after a few moments of silence.

Rhys raised a brow, silently telling him to elaborate.

The shadowsinger leans back, remembering that look on your face. A look he’d seen many times, but never in a public setting, and you never moved on your own. “She was in a trance.”

“Elaine could’ve done something to her.” Rhys thinks aloud, making Azriel straighten.

Did she curse you? They still had no idea what gifts the cauldron bestowed upon the Acheron sisters. The last thing he wanted was for you to be on the receiving end of those gifts.

Both Illyrian men sat in worry.

“I’m sorry, I suggested she visit them. I thought maybe she’d click with them like she did Feyre.” Azriel says, running a hand down his face.

Rhys shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. I know she wants to help. And not everyone can be as charming as Feyre.” At that, the brothers shared a strained smile.

“How is she?”

Rhys let out a deep breath as he picked imaginary lint off his clothes. “Alive.”

Azriel couldn’t imagine how he’d act if you were in enemy territory, the thought making him tense, body itching to be near you. He’d die before he’d let that happen.

“She’ll be home soon.” Azriel offers Rhys the words of comfort, even though they wouldn't do much.

Before Rhys could reply shadows scurried under the door rushing to Azriel.

The shadowsinger’s face went pale at their whispers. He shot up from his seat. “[name].”

Then a loud bang was heard followed by a scream of bloody murder.

The two males were rushing out of the room and running through the halls of the house within a split second. Somewhere along the way Cassian had joined them, shirtless and sweaty. Having rushed out of the training room the moment he heard the bang.

More bangs sound, but none as loud as the first one. And no more screams follow.

Azriel found himself wishing for you to scream. If you were screaming you were breathing.

He burst through the door of your shared chambers, almost knocking it down. He didn't stop to stare at the sight before him like his brothers did. There was no time to pause, not when you were being shoved into the tub by Hybern soldiers, their jagged nails gashing your beautiful skin. Their faces were unnatural and barely formed. Some were faceless, just flat skin and dark empty holes where their eyes and mouths should've been.

Stood behind you was the disfigured form of the King of Hybern himself. His body was reconstructed by the nightmare, making his fae features more monstrous. More fitting for his character.

The evil king's smile stretched from ear to ear as you thrashed under the cold water.

Azriel shoved his way through, ripping you from their arms and dragging you out of the tub. But the soldiers didn’t stop. Still reaching for you with their long slender fingers.

Tears flowed from your closed eyes, your body twitching and shaking as you were tortured both in your mind and outside it.

“Rhys!” Azriel shouted springing the High Lord into action. He rushed over, dodging the grabbing arms before setting both hands on either side of your head and forcing you to wake.

Your eyes snapped open, gulping in as much air as possible. The figures dissipated into thin air. Like a flame being snuffed out.

You squirmed away from the hands of your High Lord. Pushing against the firm body you adored so much.

You grabbed Azriel, holding him tight. So tight he wouldn’t be able to leave you again. Too afraid to worry about your bare body and the fact that both Cassian and Rhysand could see. Too afraid to notice the other person who stood at the doorway with wide eyes. Too afraid to do anything but hold him.

“Shhh. I’m here now. I’m here.” He held you tighter as your body shook with silent sobs. “I’m here. I’m here.”

You know what happened now. What that thing was. Gripping Azriel tighter as the knowledge weighed on your brain.

You tensed when he lifted your shivering body into the outstretched towel Cassian held. Azriel pulls you close to him when you recoil away from his brother's gentle touch.

Cassian watched Azriel wrap the towel around you. Heart heavy as you clung to his brother. A look of pure dread etched on your face, accompanied by a stream of never-ending tears.

You’re vaguely aware of Rhys rummaging through your drawers in the background. Vaguely aware of Azriel lifting you once more. Cradling you against him as he carried you to the bed.

He took the medical supplies from Rhys and then asked his brothers to leave. They hesitantly obliged, taking the shocked Nesta Acheron with them and closing the slightly damaged door.

He lays you down on the bed, backing up a bit to open the first aid kit but you lurch for him. Arms tightening around his neck.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He says, wishing he never had to say such words to you. “I’m right here with you.” Feeling his chest split in half when you reluctantly let him go. Bottom lip quivering.

His hands are softer than usual as they patch you up. Frown deepening at every single scratch, and bruise he saw. His fingers brush over an already forming bruise on your waist. Bile rose in his throat as the image of those horrid hands grabbing and piercing your smooth skin filled his mind.

“I took it from her.”

Your broken confession drew his attention away from the bruise and to your scared eyes. He felt helpless as he stared into them, he should've never left you. He cradled your face, thumbing away your tears only for more to take their place. He brushed those away too.

“That nightmare. I took it from her.”

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #rhys acotar #nesta archeron #azriel x you #cassian acotar

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lostfracturess · 7 months ago

Text

remedies and reasons | ch. 01

pairing — professor geto x law student reader

summary — this wasn’t supposed to happen. not that miserable internship at the law firm you hated, not him becoming your doctor, and definitely not that drunken night at the bar. but he helped, and god, you needed a friend. and he did too. except it's never just friendship with him, is it? it could be perfect—messy, complicated, but perfect. if only his heart wasn’t already taken.

important — this story is a spin-off of symptoms and causes, starting right after chapter twelve. while it can be read as a standalone, reading the original story first will give you a better understanding of the characters and story.

word count — 10.3 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, age difference (10 years), doctor-patient relationship, fwb, smoking, mature themes, angst, and depictions of illness (will update as the story progresses). reader discretion is advised.

author's note — hey friends !!! i'm so thrilled to share this new story with you, even though i said i wouldn't write two stories at the same time (oops!). this chapter covers mostly chapter twelve of symptoms and causes from suguru's pov, then introduces our new reader protagonist. if you haven't read the original story, some dynamics might be confusing initially, but i hope you'll get the hang of it. remember, you're the law reader here. at the start, there's a different reader (the protagonist from symptoms and causes). i'll note at the beginning of each scene to clarify. now, i'm so excited to hear your thoughts !! reblogs and comments are love <33

masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

next chapter ->

(note: s&c reader)

"You okay?" I asked, cutting through the tense quiet of the operating room.

Her eyes snapped to mine, the usual focus returning. "I'm fine," she said, gaze drifting away as a small frown creased her brow. "Sorry."

I watched her for a moment longer, unable to tear my eyes away. The soft curve of her cheek, the tender worry in her eyes — a painful reminder of what I could never have.

I wondered what she was thinking about. What occupied her mind like this. What could distract her from a surgery she normally loved with her whole being. But deep down, I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

The familiar ache in my chest tightened as I steadied my hands, focusing back on the aneurysm pulsating beneath my fingertips. The world shrunk down to the surgical field, the beeping monitor and harsh lights fading away. Just me, her, and the delicate dance of our hands.

"Want to continue?"

She blinked, clearly taken aback. "You want me to clip it?"

"It's a gift," I replied.

"Gift? From who?"

I merely arched an eyebrow.

I didn't really need to say it aloud, did I? She knew.

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to her gloved hands. I could see her biting her lip, even beneath the mask. Doubt clouded her eyes, a flicker of insecurity that I rarely saw.

Stupid girl.

Of course you can do it. You've done it before. Don't lose your focus now.

"And because I trust you," I added, my voice softening. "I wouldn't offer if I didn't."

Her focus snapped back to the exposed aneurysm with an almost palpable intensity. Her jaw set. "Okay," she said simply.

There she was. That's the woman I knew.

I moved to stand just behind her shoulder, close enough to monitor her every movement yet giving her the space she needed to work. She slid seamlessly into position at the microscope, her hands sure as they picked up the instruments.

"Focus," I whispered. "You've got this."

Watching her work was a bittersweet torture.

Her hands moved with a grace and precision that belied the complexity of the procedure, each movement precise yet unhurried. She was brilliant — a natural talent with an instinct few could match.

Except, perhaps, one person.

As she prepared to guide the clip into place around the bulging aneurysm, I couldn't help but feel proud. She was incredible and she didn't even seem to realize it.

"Do you ever think I'm... reckless?"

Her question, barely a whisper, caught me off guard.

I flinched, gaze snapping to study her profile. Her hands didn't falter, her focus unwavering. But I could see the question linger in her eyes.

Why would she ask that? Had Satoru put that doubt in her mind?

"Should I be worried that you're pondering this while inches deep in someone's brain?"

"Forget it," she muttered. "Just a fleeting thought."

With a small, dull click, the clip snapped shut. She had done it, and flawlessly at that.

As I knew she would.

I let out a slow breath, not realizing until that moment how tightly wound with tension I had been. No matter how routine, those high-stakes seconds before clipping always gripped me.

"Well done," I said, watching the tension drain from her shoulders.

She glanced up at me, a genuine smile lighting up her eyes in a way that clenched at my heart. "Thanks, Suguru."

Oh, those eyes.

It pains me that it was him she was looking at with those soft, adoring eyes.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

The water stung, colder than usual.

I scrubbed my hands next to her, glancing at her from the corner of my eye. Lost in thought again. I could tell. Her movements were mechanical, detached, her hands pale under the harsh fluorescent light.

She was a mere shadow of her former self.

Damn it, Satoru. What did you do to her to get her this hollowed out? I wanted to put my fist through his face for the worry he constantly caused her. And the worst part was, she didn't even know the half of it.

I should tell her, right?

It was the right thing to do, to warn her about his failing liver, his addiction slowly eating him alive. She deserved to know, to be prepared.

But I couldn't. I'd made a promise. And he'd promised to get his shit together. But how much were those promises worth, really?

I know how this story will end.

I'd seen it play out too many times.

I cleared my throat, pushing the thoughts away. "I'm proud of you," I said, trying to break the silence.

"Huh?" She looked at me, confusion clouding her eyes.

"How far you've come," I clarified, trying to get the words out right, but they still sounded hollow. How could I tell her how damn proud I was of the incredible woman she'd become? "Really, you're doing a great job. With the surgery, the research—you have a great future ahead of you."

She gave me a weak smile, then turned her gaze back to her reddened hands.

She was trying to hold it together, I could see that. And it killed me to see her like this, struggling while I felt powerless to help shoulder her burdens. I wished she'd just open up, tell me what was wrong. But again, I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

"How are you doing?" I asked gently. "Really?"

"Holding up. Somehow."

I observed her closely. Even without her looking at me, I could feel the weight of her struggles pressing down on her. She was always so strong, so confident, but this was different. I'd never seen her so—broken. It was like the life had drained out of her. And it damn hurt.

"New semester treating you okay?"

Stupid question, I know.

"Bit stressful," she admitted. "I have to retake a few exams."

Yeah, and whose goddamn fault is that?

God, I'm repeating myself, but I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

I hate it so damn much.

"Listen, if you need any help—" I began, wanting desperately to ease her burden.

"Thank you, Suguru," she cut me off, shutting off the faucet with a harsh twist. "But unless you're offering to take my tests for me, I'm afraid this is on me."

She turned and reached for a towel, the action more frantic than usual. I watched her, frustration and helplessness twisting in my gut. I wanted to do more, to be more for her, but how could I when the one she really needed was — not me.

Truth was a bitter pill I had to swallow every damn day.

As she dried her hands, I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. I turned off the water. "I'm sorry things turned out like this for you," I said, the words almost painful. "But it's for the best, for him and for you. We did what we had to."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

I grabbed a towel. "Hm?"

"What do you mean with, 'we'?"

Shit.

I froze mid-movement, my jaw tightening involuntarily. Damn it, I hadn't meant for that to slip out.

Her eyes bore into me, demanding answers. "What did you and Satoru talk about that night? The night before the hearing? I know he was with you."

I remembered it all too well.

Satoru showing up at my door in the middle of the night, shaking, sweating, barely holding onto his sanity. The ethics committee wanting to see him bleed, the guilt eating him alive over dragging her down with him, his addiction — it all become too much.

He didn't know what to do, what the right thing was. And I helped him see reason.

Or at least, that's what I told myself.

"It's nothing important. He was confused, and I helped him clear his head."

"What does that mean? What did you say to him?"

Her hands gripped the edge of the sink until her knuckles showed bone-white through the skin. She wasn't going to let this go.

Damn it, how could I get out of this?

She deserved the truth, I knew that. But I'd sworn to Satoru I wouldn't tell. My mind raced, searching for an explanation, but the truth was, there wasn't one.

Damn it, Satoru. Why do I always have to clean up your messes?

"Tell me what the fuck you said to him!"

And then I saw it. A flash of hurt in her eyes, a vulnerability I'd never seen before. It shattered me. She was so hurt. My beautiful, strong girl was so hurt and there was not a damn thing I could do to ease her suffering.

Because she was with him.

And I was on the sidelines, forced to watch Satoru tear her apart piece by piece — until there was nothing left.

I hated it. Hated Satoru for causing her so much pain.

I couldn't take it anymore. Sorry, Satoru, but screw you and your lies. This was different, because she was different.

"Isn't it obvious?" I snapped, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "I told him to end this. That it would destroy you, and that he should take responsibility for once!"

She flinched, her eyebrows drawing together as she mutely shook her head. "You had no right. You had no fucking right to do that!"

No right?

Oh pretty, I know that better than anyone. But how could I stand by and watch her get dragged down with him? No. Not anymore. I refused.

"No right?" My voice matched hers. I hated how this entire wretched situation had me losing control, lashing out at her when Satoru was the one who deserved it. "And watch you both go down? Satoru was a ticking time bomb! It was better this way—better him destroyed than you dragged down with him."

"I had him, Suguru!" she shouted. "I almost had him trusting me enough, trusting us enough, to let me help him, damn it!"

I almost laughed, but it stuck in my throat. It hurt too much to see the hope still clinging to her eyes. "You're delusional. He can't change. You know that. It would always have ended like this."

"My god, I can't believe your audacity! You ruined everything!"

I ruined everything?

Maybe it wasn't fair of me, maybe my own feelings were clouding my judgment, but damn it, I couldn't watch this anymore. Not when I could still taste the embers in my mouth each time I saw the deadened look in her eyes.

I stepped closer, my jaw clenched. She flinched back, but I kept going. I'd watched Satoru hurt her too many times. I couldn't stand by any longer.

I had to shatter her delusion.

"You know how many times I've seen this play out? The promises to change? I've seen it too often. He won't get better, and I won't let him drag you under with him. Not you."

Her back hit the sink. I stepped closer, until I felt the sudden searing burn of her warmth radiating against me, the intoxicating floral notes of her scent filling my senses until I thought I might lose it from proximity alone.

My hand twitched, moving before my mind could catch up. I wanted to pull back, but I couldn't.

Fingertip traced the delicate line of her jaw, trembling slightly at the contact I craved so much. I fought the urge to let my touch linger, to commit every precious dove-soft plane and angle to memory while I still could.

"This is for the best," I rasped out. "You're young, brilliant. This—relationship with Satoru, it would have ruined you."

"Don't you dare," she hissed, eyes blazing as she swatted my hand away. "You have no right to decide what's best for me."

"Yes, I do. Because I was the one who got you here in the first place, it was my doing, and I—" My voice caught in my throat. "I don't want to see you hurt."

The silence that followed was deafening.

I couldn't look at her, couldn't bear to see the pain I'd caused reflected in her eyes. I'd done what I thought was right, what I believed was necessary to protect her. But in doing so, I had become the very thing I despised—a barrier between her and the happiness she deserved.

Perhaps I'd just screwed everything up even more. And it was killing me.

"Why are you saying this now?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

I wanted to tell her everything.

I wanted to confess the depth of my feelings, the months of silent longing that felt like a steadily tightening noose around my neck whenever I witnessed her happiness with him, the aching, hollow pit that seemed to consume more of me with every smile, every tender caress between them that I wasn't the recipient of, the gut-wrenching jealousy that flayed me from the inside out whenever she looked at him with those devastatingly soft, adoring eyes that held nothing but indifference for me, the—

Sorry.

I'll stop now.

It didn't matter anyway, did it?

The words wouldn't come.

I couldn't, wouldn't allow myself to cross that line.

All I could do was look at her, my heart splitting apart from the violence of my want with every beat. The urge to reach out, to pull her against me, was almost overwhelming. But I held back, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. I'd already done enough damage.

Then, my damned gaze flickered down.

Those lips. God, those lips.

Soft, slightly parted, the bottom one bearing the faint imprint of her teeth—a nervous habit I'd caught myself watching, savoring, hating myself for noticing.

How many times had Satoru kissed those worry marks away? How many times had I wanted to?

I'd lost count of the nights I'd lain awake, imagining her mouth on mine, her lips parting to gasp my name—not his. It was torture, this constant craving to know their texture, their heat, their taste.

It was wrong, so fucking wrong, to think about her that way.

But there I was, night after night, picturing those lips forming my name in a way friends never do. Dreaming of tasting them, feeling them, knowing them in every way I shouldn't.

And it hurt.

I sucked in a hard breath.

Sorry, Satoru. I can't keep this to myself anymore.

"You know damn well why."

I couldn't say it out loud, couldn't bring myself to admit aloud what she patently refused to see with her own eyes. No. I simply couldn't.

"No," she breathed. "You can't—"

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "Yeah, I know. You don't have to tell me that."

I already know that painful truth, pretty. It was a wound that refused to heal. I'd lived with that realization for far too long.

Suddenly, my pager blared, shattering the moment. Damn it. I cursed under my breath, pulling out the device. My face went taut as I read the message.

Yaga: Office. Now. Bring the student too.

That bastard. Why the hell did he want to see me now? And why her? Was it something Satoru screwed up again? Or something else? Did Satoru get the same message?

This couldn't have come at a worse time.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes searching mine. I couldn't meet her gaze. Not after I'd betrayed not only her, but Satoru too, with my stupid, selfish feelings.

"Yaga," I choked out. "Wants to see us. Now."

Our eyes finally met, hers filled with questions I've longed so much to answer.

"Why?"

"I...I don't know. But we should go. Come on."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

My foot tapped a nervous beat on the scuffed wooden floor.

Why was I so damn nervous? I knew Yaga's games, been through them a thousand times. But this felt different. Because she was here. And she shouldn't be.

A knot tightened in my gut.

He wouldn't bring up that topic again, would he?

I glared at Yaga, willing him to just spit it out already. My eyes flicked to her, sitting stiffly beside me. Her face was a mask. I wondered what she was thinking about. Was she thinking about what I said? Or about—no, I didn't even want to think about that.

I know, I know, I'm repeating myself.

I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

"So, shall we begin?" Yaga's voice finally cut through the silence, like he'd been enjoying our discomfort. Damn old bastard. "I've called you here to discuss a research project that I want you to redo."

He slid a folder across the desk towards her.

No name, just a mess of loose papers threatening to spill out. She picked it up, her brow furrowing as she opened it. Then her grip tightened on the file. I leaned closer to see what had her so tense, and my stomach dropped.

I knew that title.

Knew it better than anyone, except maybe the one person who'd written it.

"You want me to redo a study that was completely pointless?" she asked, her voice sharp.

"Yes," Yaga said simply.

"The results were inconclusive. A dead end."

"Your research held promise. Dr. Geto never failed to remind me." Yaga's eyes flickered to me. "Now, you have better resources, better support. You can refine it, perfect it."

Damn it. I should've kept my mouth shut.

Regret gnawed at my insides like acid. Regretted telling him what a brilliant mind she had, how much she deserved to be here—among the best.

Because she did.

She was a natural, something I'd rarely seen before, maybe only in Satoru. Hell, it was like watching a younger Satoru at work. And it hurt. It was painful to see so many parallels between them, knowing that I could never measure up to him in her eyes.

I'd brought her here because I believed in her. Because I wanted her on my research team, because I wanted to work with her. But now, I wasn't so sure.

Had I screwed up? Was I the reason she was in this mess? Had I brought her here only to watch her world fall apart?

I didn't want to admit it. Couldn't bear to be the cause of her pain.

I glanced at her, catching her eye. Frustration and confusion were written all over her face.

Shame washed over me.

It was stupid, I know. I shouldn't feel ashamed for recognizing her talent, for bringing her here where she belonged. She deserved it all. But I couldn't shake the feeling that without me, she would've been better off.

Without me and Satoru.

Her knuckles turned white as bone as she gripped the file tighter, then slammed it shut.

"That's not the point," she said. "My CAR-T Therapy research was theoretical, a mathematical model that was inherently flawed. All the best equipment in the world won't change that. It's a black hole."

Yaga leaned forward. "Listen, we have a generous donor. I think you met her at the conference? She took quite a liking to you. Her husband recently succumbed to this very type of tumor."

I knew it.

Yaga, the greedy bastard, never changed his stripes.

The silence was heavy, the only sound the insistent ticking of the clock on the wall. Her mind was racing, I could feel it. So was mine.

I must have spaced out for a second, because the next thing I knew, she was speaking again, her voice dangerously low. "You want to use me to exploit a grieving woman just to line your pockets?"

Yaga's mouth hung open, the smug look wiped clean off his face.

In any other situation, I would have laughed. She, a mere student, had managed to stun the all-powerful Yaga into silence. But the situation was anything but funny. Still, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. She was something else.

Suddenly, the door slammed open. I didn't even need to turn my head to know who it was.

"What the hell is going on here?" Satoru's voice boomed through the room.

Yaga's face hardened. "Dr. Gojo, what a... surprise. Here I thought you might have finally bothered to read your emails."

"Cut the bullshit, Yaga," Satoru spat. "This is a new low, even for you. Forcing a student, exploiting a grieving widow—have you no shame?"

Yaga rubbed his temples, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Dr. Gojo, your dramatics are exhausting. Do you understand the costs your actions have inflicted on this institution? A shred of gratitude, a willingness to shoulder some responsibility, might be a welcome change."

"Responsibility? You want to talk about responsibility? You're exploiting a woman in the depths of grief, using one of my students as a bargaining chip. What the hell happened to you, Yaga?"

The two of them went at it, their words flying back and forth faster than my eyes could follow.

Yeah, Satoru sure knew how to make an entrance. Not a trait that was always helpful in situations like this, because something in Yaga snapped at his words.

Yaga stood up so abruptly his chair screeched against the floor. "Happened to me? Dr. Gojo, have you considered the consequences of your reckless behavior? You're the one spiraling, and frankly, it's becoming unbearable."

Damn, these two were about to kill each other. Satoru should know better than to provoke Yaga like that. The old man was stubborn as hell. But so was Satoru.

I closed my eyes briefly, then stepped between them, forcing myself to sound calm. "Director Yaga, please. She's a student, her focus should be on her studies."

"Of course, which is why you and Dr. Gojo will provide your expertise. Your old lab is free to use, funds are secured, equipment at your disposal. You have free rein."

Huh?

I narrowed my eyes. As if that made it any better.

Satoru let out a bitter laugh. "Free rein? Or free rein to do as you please? Despicable, Yaga. Truly despicable." He leaned back, folding his arms. "And wasn't I suspended? Investigations and all that? But I suppose principles go out the window when money enters the picture."

"You have no right to dictate what happens here, Gojo," Yaga snapped, his composure slipping. "You answer to me. This research holds immense potential, not just for the university, but for the field itself. You will do it. End of discussion."

"Potential? Or is that just fancy code for fattening your wallet, Yaga?"

"Don't play dumb, Gojo. You, of all people, know exactly how the game is played."

"Don't. Do. This." Satoru leaned forward, his chest brushing against my hand as I tried to hold him back. "Involve her in your schemes, and I swear—Leave her out of this. Suguru and I can do the damned research, but let her focus on her studies."

"You're in no position to bargain. I can make things incredibly difficult for you, Gojo. Throw away all that potential, all that talent... it would be a shame, wouldn't it? But I am more than willing to do so if you prove uncooperative."

Smug bastard was really pushing it today.

He was nothing without us, and he knew it. This whole place would crumble without Satoru and me. We were the ones who brought in the grants, the prestige, the groundbreaking research. And yet, he treated us like we were disposable.

I pushed Satoru back, stepping up to confront Yaga directly. The urge to wipe that smugness from his face with my fists was nearly overwhelming, but I forced control over my rage. One hothead was more than enough for today.

Still, my words came out in a tone of barely restrained menace. "Director. Dr. Gojo has a point. This research will be a massive distraction. Her studies should be her priority."

"Yes," Yaga drawled. "I heard about her recent... setbacks." Yaga sank back in his chair and opened his laptop. "A failed practical exam, a theoretical test barely passed. And this isn't the first time, is it?"

He turned the screen towards her, her failing grades a glaring red on the display. "Tell me, which subject would you like to miraculously pass? A click of my fingers, and it's done."

Before I could say anything, Satoru exploded.

"You blackmailing piece of shit!"

"Blackmail?" Yaga said. "No, blackmail would be threatening to cut her scholarship, endangering her entire future here... which, thankfully, our generous donor would be more than happy to preserve."

This was too much.

Now he had two pissed-off neurosurgeons on his hands. I braced my hands on the desk, leaning towards him. "Yaga, this is beyond the pale! This blatant manipulation—"

Suddenly, her voice cut through the tension. "I'll do it. I'll work on the research."

The room fell silent.

Satoru and I both whipped around to look at her. Her gaze was fixed on Yaga, not flinching. There was something defeated about her, something I wasn't used to seeing. It chilled me to the bone. She wouldn't give in like that. I knew her better than that.

But what had changed?

"Someone finally sees reason," Yaga said, breaking the silence. "You start this week—"

"No," Satoru interrupted. "That's not up for debate. We start next week."

"This week," Yaga repeated, his voice firm.

Leaning in, Satoru's voice took on a dangerous edge. "Next week. Or I walk out that door and you can find yourself a new star surgeon."

Huh?

Why did the start date matter so much to him?

Was that the real issue here?

"Dr. Gojo, you are exceedingly close to losing my goodwill," Yaga ground out. "Fine. Next week."

Satoru backed off and started to pace the room. I glanced at her, who was still sitting silently in her chair. She looked so small, lost in the shadows of Yaga's office. I wanted to wrap her in a hug, tell her it would all be okay.

But it wasn't my place. I knew the answer—

Sorry.

I'll not repeat myself yet again.

My gaze shifted back to Yaga. "And if we find nothing? Months, years, wasted on a dead-end?"

"You'll continue as long as the funding lasts."

"Of course," Satoru spat from across the room.

"Well, look at the bright side, Gojo," Yaga said, adjusting his glasses and focusing on some papers on his desk. "I just approved that fancy new CT scanner for the ER. Isn't that what you've been whining about? Finally found some spare change in the budget, did we?."

"You fucking bastard," Satoru hissed.

Yaga merely shrugged. "Everyone has to play their role, Gojo."

I watched the exchange with a growing sense of disgust. Yaga's power plays were nothing new, but this — this was something else. Exploiting a grieving widow's generosity, using my student's academic struggles as leverage. It was sickening.

I'd always known Yaga was ruthless, but this level of manipulation left a sour taste in my mouth. He was like a parasite, feeding off the brilliance and drive of others, all while masquerading as an advocate for the institution's best interests.

I clenched my jaw.

How could I continue to work for a man who treated his students and staff as mere commodities to be exploited?

Suddenly, I heard a shaky breath behind me.

I turned to see her staring blankly ahead, her body trembling ever so slightly. "If you'll excuse me," she whispered, then abruptly stood up and practically fled the room.

"Wait—" I started, but she was already gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

"Fuck you, Yaga!" Satoru shouted, slamming his fist against the wall hard enough to leave a mark. "This is your fault, your doing!" With that, he stormed out after her.

And I couldn't follow.

All I could do was try to clean up the mess that was left behind.

As soon as they were gone, I turned back to Yaga, who seemed to think the conversation was over. Oh, but it wasn't. Not by a long shot.

"You know about them," I said, not bothering to phrase it as a question.

"It's obvious even to a blind man, Dr. Geto," Yaga replied, his eyes glued to the papers on his desk.

"And you're just going to ignore it?"

He looked up, a cold glint in his eyes. "I finally found Gojo's weakness. Why would I let that go? At long last, I have a way to make him obey me."

I scoffed. In one swift motion, I swept the papers off his desk, scattering them across the floor. I leaned forward, my hands braced on his desk, glaring at him.

"This crosses a line, Yaga. You've gone too far."

His eyes narrowed. "Watch your tone, Dr. Geto. You're treading on dangerous ground."

"No, you are!" I shot back, my voice rising. "You're exploiting her, using her for your own gain. You think you can manipulate everyone, but you're wrong."

"Control? Greed? Those are harsh words coming from you," Yaga retorted, standing up to face me. "And here I thought you, of all people, would understand."

"Understand your greed? Not a chance."

"I don't care if you like my choices or not. This is how things work. You can play by the rules, or be replaced. Don't delude yourself into thinking you're irreplaceable, Dr. Geto."

"Your arrogance is going to cost you another surgeon if you don't watch it. You drove Sukuna away, and now you're halfway there with Gojo and me."

"Sukuna was a different story!" Yaga snapped, his face contorted with a rage I couldn't quite comprehend. He quickly regained his composure, but the outburst had left an uneasy silence in its wake.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and saw Shoko's name. Frowning, I answered the call. "Shoko? What is it?"

"Suguru, there's a patient here who insists on seeing Satoru. She says it's really important, but he isn't answering his phone, and she won't leave.“

"Why can't you see her yourself?"

"I need a neurologist's assessment," she replied. "And she specifically asked for Satoru. They had an appointment scheduled, and she's adamant about seeing him."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "There are other neurologists on staff right now."

I could hear her sigh on the other end of the line. "She's never seen anyone else here, Suguru. I'm pretty sure there's a reason she's so insistent on Satoru. Just look at her, do me a favor."

"Alright, I'll be there soon," I conceded. "Bring her to my office."

I ended the call and turned back to Yaga. I took a deep breath, trying to quell the rage that threatened to consume me. "This isn't over. Not by a damn sight."

"Yeah, yeah, Dr. Geto, as always," he dismissed me, already back at his papers. "By the way, there's a legal consult regarding this research coming up for you and Gojo. We don't want a repeat of past indiscretions, now do we?" He looked up at me.

I wanted to smash his smug face in.

I turned and stormed out of his office, slamming the door behind me. My blood was boiling, my fists clenched tight. I hated this whole damn situation. Hated Yaga, hated his manipulative tactics, hated how he was using her. But most of all, I hated feeling so goddamn powerless.

As I walked down the corridor, my anger slowly hardening into resolve. Yaga might think he was in control, but he was wrong. I wouldn't let him manipulate her, or Satoru, or anyone else.

Not this time. Not ever again.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: r&r reader)

I made my way to the hospital.

A damn patient was really the last thing on my mind. I had more important things to do than deal with a hysterical patient. What was it even about? Why did it have to be Satoru she wanted to see? Some relative of his?

I tried to take a deep breath and calm myself, but the downpour between the parking lot and the main entrance made it damn near impossible. By the time I got inside, I was soaked to the bone. No umbrella in sight, of course.

My office door was slightly open. I pushed it in, expecting to find some old lady or something. Instead, a young woman sat in the chair across from my desk. Mid twenties, maybe, with a delicate, almost fragile look about her. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap.

The office was dark, the lights off, which struck me as odd given the gloomy weather outside. But the light from the window beside her illuminated her face, and I had to admit — she was beautiful.

I must have hesitated overlong in the doorway, because her gaze suddenly snapped up to meet mine, those stunning eyes of hers holding me captive. "You are not Dr. Gojo."

"I'm Dr. Geto," I managed, clearing my throat against the strange tension. "You not fond of light, are you?" I asked pointing towards the light switch.

"I like it a bit dimmed," she said, and I didn't question it further.

I stepped into the room, glancing down at my clothes. Not exactly the most professional look for a doctor, standing there soaked through in front of a patient. I threw on my white coat, but it did little to hide my damp appearance.

"You were here for Dr. Gojo, right?" I said as I sat down behind my desk.

"Yes," she said, her eyes following my every move.

"I'm sorry, but he isn't available right now. But I'm a neurologist as well. Perhaps I can help you instead?"

She slid a piece of paper across my desk, her hand still resting on it. "I just need a signature here."

"A signature?" I leaned forward, water dripping from my hair onto the form. I quickly pushed my wet strands back. "This is a health screening form."

"Yes." Her eyes darted nervously to mine. "I need it for my job."

"Can I take a look at it?" I made to take the paper, but her hand remained firmly in place.

"Just the signature, please. Then I'll be out of your hair."

I raised an eyebrow. "I can't sign something without knowing what I'm signing."

Her brow furrowed, and she snatched the form back. "Sorry to have wasted your time," she muttered, starting to get up.

"Wait," I said, stopping her mid-motion. What was it about this woman? What did Satoru have to do with any of this?

"Tell me." I leaned back in my chair. "What did you and Gojo agree on regarding this?"

She hesitated, biting her lip. "Dr. Gojo agreed to sign it without asking too many questions."

Something didn't add up. Satoru might be an addict, but he wasn't reckless with patients.

"I swear, I'll give you the signature you need if you'd just let me take a look at it first."

Reluctantly, she slid the form back across the desk, avoiding my eyes. I scanned it quickly, my brow furrowing as I saw the long list of medications, mostly anticonvulsants.

That explained the lights being off.

"You have epilepsy." I looked up at her. Why would she think either of us would sign this without checking it out first?

"Yes."

"And you're currently taking all these meds?" I gestured to the list.

"Yes."

I leaned back, studying her face. "And Gojo knew about this?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any other words in your vocabulary besides 'yes'?"

Her brow furrowed, and a flicker of defiance flashed in her eyes.

I sighed. "Come on, sit down."

Reluctantly, she settled back into the chair.

I studied her face, looking for any signs of her epilepsy — a slight tremor in her hands from the Topiramate, maybe. But there was nothing. She was perfectly still. Satoru must have found the right dosage.

The silence stretched on. I waited for an explanation, and she knew it. I could practically see the gears turning in her head.

"He's been treating me for a while," she finally said.

"I see. And he agreed to sign this health screening form for you?"

"Yes—"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Look, Dr. Geto, I really need this for my internship," she pleaded. "It's really important to me."

I glanced back down at the form. "Nishimura and Asahi, huh? That's a big deal. You're a law intern?"

"Yes, I am. I'll be working there for the next semester."

I skimmed the papers again, test results, MRI scans. "So, you're almost done with your studies?" I asked, not looking up.

"I do my second state examination after my internship, yes, then I'm done."

"Hmm." I looked up from the papers, the rain drumming against the windows, the only sound in the otherwise silent office. She stared at me, unwavering.

"So you're preparing for your final exams while working the internship? Sounds stressful," I tried to broach the subject carefully.

"Please, Dr. Geto," she said. "I just need a signature on this paper, and I'm out of here."

I sighed. "I understand. But I can't just sign this without checking in on you first. I need to run some tests, make sure you're fit for work."

My eyes scanned the papers again. Blood tests and medication checks were recent, but the MRI scans were outdated. Even Satoru wouldn't have let her slide with that.

"Look, we can make this quick," I offered. "Your MRI scans are old. We take new ones, and then—"

"No," she blurted out, her voice rising in panic. "I mean, isn't there another way?"

"Another way to look into your brain?" I raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid not."

She bit her lip, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap, saying nothing.

"Look, it's crucial for me to get a clear picture of your brain activity," I explained. "It's the only way I can make sure you're safe and healthy. Otherwise, I can't sign that form."

She looked up at me again. "I... I can't do MRIs. I'm not really comfortable with enclosed spaces."

Huh?

Was that the problem?

I ran a hand through my damp hair, looking back at her scans. "Your last scans were done by Dr. Gojo too, right?"

"Yes."

She was a woman of few words, it seemed.

"Was there something special Dr. Gojo did that made you feel more comfortable in the MRI? Did he give you any medication? Vistaril? Valium?" I knew it wasn't that, though. Those drugs would interact badly with her other meds.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, looking like she might throw up any second. "He... held my hand."

Ha?

My eyebrows shot up. "He held your hand?"

She lifted her chin and looked away. "It... it helped."

I can only imagine the dumbfounded look that must have settled on my features as I processed her words. I couldn't picture Satoru, who rather had his patients in and out in mere seconds, being so patient and caring with anyone. Let alone holding their hand through a brain scan.

She crossed her arms, a stubborn look on her face. "I swear, nothing weird happened. He just held my hand, that's all."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"It's not funny," she protested, her cheeks flushing. "It was really embarrassing."

"Oh, I'm sure it was," I teased, enjoying her flustered reaction. "But it's also quite cute."

She huffed, turning her head away. "It's not cute. It's just... something he did."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. "And would you like me to do the same?"

Her eyes narrowed, a spark of challenge in them. "His hands were really soft."

"Is that so?" I leaned back in my chair. I could see the wheels turning in her head, her stubbornness a thinly veiled attempt to stall for time.

"And warm."

"Aha."

"And he had this way of holding my hand," she started, demonstrating with her own hands. My eyebrows shot up even higher as she mimicked Satoru's thumb stroking her knuckles. "Like this."

Somewhere in the middle of her demonstration, she must have realized how ridiculous this was, because she abruptly stopped.

"Don't laugh!" she warned, and I realized I was indeed grinning like an idiot.

Before she could object, I reached out and took her hand in mine.

Her skin was soft, her fingers delicate. I held her gaze, challenging her silently. Not sure what I was trying to prove, but the warmth of her hand in mine felt... good. I knew I was crossing a line here, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

"See? Not so bad, is it?"

She didn't say anything, but her grip tightened a bit. I held her gaze for a few more seconds, then my thumb brushed against the back of her hand in a soothing gesture. She seemed to relax slightly under my touch.

Her eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route. "I... I suppose."

I couldn't help but let the moment linger, our hands still intertwined. I noticed a slight tremor in her fingers, and my thumb instinctively smoothed over her skin again.

She suddenly gasped. "That's... quite weird."

"And with Gojo it wasn't weird?"

She shook her head, eyes glued to our hands. "No. I just realized it's weird in general."

I smiled. "Well, then it's settled. We'll schedule your MRI for tomorrow morning."

"You're not like other doctors."

"Perhaps not," I said, finally letting go of her hand. "But you're not exactly your average patient either."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she gestured towards my soaked shirt. "You're the doctor who's completely drenched. I can practically see your skin underneath. Not very professional, is it?"

I glanced down at my sopping clothes. I hadn't even realized how see-through my shirt was. "For someone who's afraid of an MRI machine, you sure have a big mouth."

She crossed her arms. "And for someone who just held a patient's hand without their explicit consent, you sure have a lot of nerve. That's a violation of medical ethics, you know. I could report you for that."

"A law student, are we?" I raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Perhaps you should focus on passing your exams before you start threatening lawsuits."

"Yeah, well, I'd need that signature before I can do that, wouldn't I?"

"Fair enough." I stood up, keys in hand. "Until tomorrow then. Try not to sue me in your sleep."

I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me. "Just so you know, Dr. Geto. I'm not afraid of MRI machines. I just don't like them."

I turned back, a grin spreading across my face. "We'll see about that tomorrow, Attorney," I challenged. "We'll see about that."

The hallway was empty, the silence broken only by the steady drip of water from my clothes. As I walked, the adrenaline of the encounter faded, replaced by the familiar weight of the day's earlier events. The tense confrontation with Yaga, the lingering ache for her — it all came back, a dull throb in the background of my thoughts.

Her face.

Her eyes.

That damn smile.

I ran a hand through my hair.

Fuck.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: r&r reader)

I held my promise.

Her fingers were cold and clammy, her pulse racing beneath my touch. My thumb traced the back of her hand, hoping to convey some sense of comfort. The MRI machine's steady thrum filled the room, but beneath it, I could still hear her shallow breaths.

How the hell did I end up here? Holding hands with a patient during a goddamn brain scan was definitely not in my job description.

"Can you tell me something?" she asked. "Dr. Gojo always talked to me while I was in here."

"What do you want to know?"

"How did you and Dr. Gojo meet?"

I hesitated, slightly irritated by the personal question.

"We've known each other our whole lives. Kindergarten, elementary school, high school... we didn't always get along. He can be a real pain in the ass. But somewhere along the way, we just clicked. Been stuck together ever since. Same university, now working together."

"So you've never been apart?"

"Not really," I said, continuing to soothe her hand with my thumb. "I think the longest we were separated was when he did a semester abroad. Six months, maybe."

"Wow. Sounds like you're an old married couple."

I huffed. "Yeah, somehow we were that."

"Were?"

I looked up, realizing I'd slipped into past tense.

There was a long silence as I thought about it. We used to be so close, inseparable. There was nothing we didn't share, nothing that could ever come between us. But lately, it felt like we were drifting apart.

Maybe I was only realizing it now.

"Oh, I..." I trailed off. I rested my chin on my free hand, looking away from her. "I guess it's only natural. People drift apart. Life happens."

What the hell was I doing?

This was some random patient of Satoru's, a complete stranger. I should've stuck to small talk, the weather, anything but my personal life. But maybe, with everything going on, I just needed to talk about it — to anyone. Because I sure as hell couldn't talk to Satoru about it.

But she wouldn't understand, would she? She was just a stranger.

She wouldn't understand the sleepless nights, the endless tossing and turning, the hollow ache in my chest that wouldn't go away.

"Hmm," she murmured, her grip on my hand tightening slightly. "Was it a woman?"

"Huh?" I looked at her, or at least the part of her face that wasn't hidden by the MRI machine.

"The reason you parted, I mean?"

"No. It wasn't a woman."

The silence hung in the air as the MRI hummed and clicked. She didn't say anything.

I took a deep breath. "It was a woman. But not in the way you think."

"It's never what it seems, is it?"

I hesitated, not sure how much to share. But something in her voice, a softness, made me want to go on. "They share a bond... a deep one. I've never seen anything like that. It's like they're the very air the other breathes."

Her grip on my hand tightened, as if she understood the depth of my pain, even without knowing the full story. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's alright," I said, trying to shrug it off, but the pain was still raw. "I knew from the start that they were made for each other."

The truth sliced through me, sharp and cold.

They were too similar, both bordering on insanity to be fair, but similar. Yet, they were so stubborn, so unwilling to admit their need for each other, that they'd rather tear each other down.

It was a damn tragedy.

Even more of a tragedy to get caught up in their destruction, to have these stupid feelings I'd rather not have.

I stayed silent, unsure if I wanted to say anything more. It hurt too much to talk about it, the wound still too fresh. But then, her voice cut through the silence again.

"The law firm is hell."

"Huh?" I was pulled back to the present. "What do you mean?"

"The corporate types are all so stiff and judgmental," she complained. "And the other law students... so ambitious, always trying to one-up each other. I hate it."

My lips twitched into a light smile. "Yeah, law students were always ambitious, even back in my day."

"They are. Everyone's so focused on being the best, even if it means stepping on others. I'm not sure I have that kind of ambition."

"But you got an internship at one of the top law firms in the city," I pointed out. "That must mean you're pretty ambitious yourself."

There was a pause, then she almost whispered, "Yeah, but at what cost..."

Hm?

I barely caught her words, but before I could ask her to repeat herself, a sudden beep from the MRI machine cut through the air. The machine whirred to a stop, the sudden silence almost unsettling. The scan was complete.

The table slowly slid out, bringing her back into full view. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the light. "That's it?" she asked, sounding surprised. "It's over?"

"All done, Attorney," I said with a reassuring smile. "You did great."

As she started to sit up, I realized I was still holding her hand. She glanced down at our intertwined fingers. "You can let go now, Dr. Geto."

I blinked, snapping back to reality. I quickly released her hand. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she said, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "I tend to have that effect on men."

"Again, for someone who's afraid of MRIs, you've got a pretty big mouth."

"Again, I'm not afraid of them. I just don't like them."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, helping her off the table. My hand brushed against hers again. "Now let's take a look at those scans."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: r&r reader)

As the images flickered onto the screen, my focus sharpened, my eyes scanning the intricate patterns of her brain. The room was quiet, broken only by the soft hum of the computer and the rhythmic beeping of the nearby monitors.

"Everything looks good, Attorney," I said. "No signs of any abnormalities or lesions."

She leaned forward, her eyes wide with interest as she studied the images. "So, I'm all clear?"

"As far as I can tell. Your epilepsy seems to be well-controlled with your current medication."

"Thanks, Dr. Geto, I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome," I replied, grabbing the form from my desk. "Now, about that signature..." I quickly filled it out, my pen scratching across the paper. With a final flourish, I signed my name at the bottom.

"Here you go," I said, handing it over. "All set."

She took it, her eyes scanning the document quickly. "Thank you. You've been a lifesaver."

"Just doing my job." I waved away her thanks. "Now, go out there and conquer the legal world."

She looked up from the paper and met my gaze with a boldness that caught me off guard. "Would you like to go out for drinks this weekend?"

I blinked, my mind scrambling to process her words. "I... what?" I stammered, completely taken aback. "Are you—asking me out?"

"No, no, that's not it at all!" She quickly waved her hands in front of her face. "I mean, not like a date or anything. I could really use a friend, someone to show me around and... you know, just hang out with."

I stared at her, amused and bewildered at the same time. "Attorney, I'm at least ten years older than you."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Ha? How old are you?"

"How old are you?"

"Didn't you read my medical history, doctor?"

Right. Now I remembered. Twenty-six. Yeah, ten years older. I leaned against the desk, not quite sure what to make of her proposition.

"I'm your doctor," I said, reminding her of the obvious.

"Technically, I'm Dr. Gojo's patient."

"Even so, you realize how this could be perceived, right?"

"It's not like I'm asking for your kidney. Just a few drinks." She shrugged, unfazed. "Besides, you seem like a nice guy."

"That's all it takes for you?"

"Come on, don't make it so hard for me," she said, pouting playfully.

"I'm not sure I'm the best person to show you around town. I'm a bit of a workaholic. Socializing isn't exactly my forte."

She tilted her head, studying me with a curious gaze. "So you're saying you don't have any friends?" she asked, a playful challenge in her voice. "Are you a loner, Dr. Geto?"

I hesitated, thrown off by her directness. "Do you always speak your mind so bluntly?"

She shrugged. "Only when I'm talking to heartbroken doctors who seem a little lonely."

I couldn't help but be intrigued by her persistence.

She was unlike any patient I'd ever met — bold, witty, and surprisingly insightful. And despite the age difference, there was some sort of strange understanding between us. I couldn't quite tell if she was doing this for herself or for me, but I found myself wanting to find out.

"Alright, Attorney," I said. "You win. I'll show you around town. But don't expect any wild nights out. I'm more of a quiet bar and good conversation kind of guy."

Her face lit up with a genuine smile. "Sounds perfect. Just promise me you won't try to diagnose me with anything while we're out."

"Why, is there more to diagnose?"

"Nothing major," she said with a chuckle. "Just the usual existential angst, quarter-life crisis, questioning my entire career path kind of stuff."

"Don't worry. I won't diagnose anything outside this hospital."

"Great." She grinned, extending her hand. "Then it's a deal."

As our hands clasped together, I returned her smile. "Deal."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

Satoru's call woke me up, telling me to get my ass to the lab. It was my day off, damn it, but when he mentioned she wanted to meet us. I dragged myself out of bed.

By the time I got to our old lab — now ours again, apparently — Satoru was already mapping out the entire research study on the whiteboard. He must have been there for hours.

Good thing I'd brought two coffees. I knew this was coming.

Hours passed in a blur of caffeine and whiteboard markers. Satoru and I argued over every damn strategy, our approaches clashing like always. He wanted to go one way, I wanted to go another. Every idea we had was met with immediate criticism and erased within minutes.

New idea, erase, repeat.

But we kept going, trying to find a plan that would work, not just for us, but for her. We both wanted to take some of the burden off her shoulders.

Then the lab door opened. I turned, surprised to see anyone before the afternoon. My heart stuttered in my chest.

It was her.

She walked over to us, her expression unreadable. It was the first time I'd seen her since Yaga's office, since I'd almost let those three damning words slip past my guard. Since I'd seen the confusion in her eyes when she realized what I was about to confess.

God, what had I been thinking?

That she'd what, return my feelings?

Foolish.

"What are you doing here?" Satoru asked. "Don't you have a lecture right now?"

"Yuta's covering for me. It's fine."

"That's not how this research will work. You won't jeopardize your studies for this," Satoru said, his voice firm.

"Last time I checked, this was my research. Remember?" she retorted, her tone just as sharp.

Satoru merely huffed. She shifted under his gaze, looking uncomfortable. And tired. No, tired was an understatement. She looked like she hadn't slept in a week. Her cheeks were hollow, her skin pale. I hated seeing her like this.

"You look exhausted," I observed quietly. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I'm fine," she said, but it was a blatant lie.

I glanced at Satoru, who was already looking at me with a frown. He thought the same thing I did.

"Look, I have an idea," she said suddenly, walking over to the whiteboard and snatching the marker from my hand. Before I could react, she erased our notes with a few harsh strokes.

Ouch.

"My original approach was too theoretical—too cautious," she began, drawing on the whiteboard. "I wanted to use CAR-T therapy to treat brain tumors like blood diseases, but that's not enough. What if we combine CAR-T with targeted antibodies?"

I took a seat next to Satoru, my eyes following hers as she scribbled diagrams and equations on the board. I took a sip of my coffee, already cold. "Antibodies... what kind?"

"T-cell engagers," she said without missing a beat. "We can engineer them to bridge the gap between the CAR-T cells and the tumor."

"That's never been tested before," Satoru chimed in.

"That's why we'll be the first," she retorted. “We'll modify the CAR-T cells to specifically target the glioblastoma's antigen fingerprint. But we need to combine them with T-cell engagers, designed to simultaneously bind the EGFR protein. This way, we can maximize tumor cell destruction."

It was hard to keep up. Her words were spilling out a mile a minute, as if she was afraid they otherwise might slip her mind, the drawings on the board barely legible.

Then, she spun around. "And we'll inject them directly into the brain."

Silence.

Satoru and I stared at her, trying to process what she'd just laid out. Even as seasoned neurosurgeons, we were struggling to keep up. This was on a whole other level than anything we'd considered.

We were looking for something that would work and be safe.

She just wanted to find a way to make it work, damn the risks it seemed. The lack of sleep was clearly messing with her head, but in a twisted way, it made sense. Still, we couldn't actually go through with this, could we?

Her gaze flitted between us, waiting for a response.

God, I need a cigarette.

"That's," I paused, searching for the right word, "—bold."

"More like insane," Satoru countered. "When was the last time you actually slept?"

"Ha? Tell me this doesn't make sense."

I leaned back, drumming my fingers on the armrest as I thought it over. "It does. Theoretically, it could work."

"Combining CAR-T with antibodies? Direct brain injection? We don't have preclinical data, not even hypothetical models to support something this radical," Satoru countered.

"So?" she challenged. "Isn't that what groundbreaking research is about? Taking risks, pushing boundaries?" She gestured to the whiteboard. "This—this is worth the risk."

I stood up and started pacing, rubbing my chin as I thought it through. I walked back over to the board, took the marker from her hand, and started scribbling.

"She's right," I said, my mind racing. "Direct injection cuts through the blood-brain barrier issue. And targeted antibodies... that opens up possibilities we haven't even considered."

But there were still so many obstacles. "The potential for cytokine release syndrome—" I mused aloud. "If the T-cells overreact, we could trigger an inflammatory response."

She leaned closer, her eyes focused on the board. "We can manage that. Steroids, anti-IL-6... strict monitoring protocols."

Hmm, maybe. But there was still more to consider. I kept writing. "And what about the target itself? EGFRvIII is notoriously heterogeneous. We need robust evidence that our antibodies won't miss their mark—"

"Is it just me, or am I the only sane person in this room right now?" Satoru interrupted, his arms crossed as he glared at us from his chair. "We're not talking about hypothetical models here. We're talking about messing with someone's brain. Someone's life."

"I'm well aware of the risks, Satoru," she shot back.

"Aware and reckless aren't the same thing," he retorted.

"Coming from you, that's rich."

God, I need two cigarettes now.

"Look, you've barely slept for a week, and now you're proposing—what, supercharged T-cells?" He gestured towards our chaotic notes on the whiteboard. "Have you both lost your goddamn minds?" His gaze flickered between the two of us.

I was surprised he was so hesitant. Satoru was usually the first to jump into the deep end. Somehow, I had the feeling he changed. He wasn't as risky as I used to know him. Must be her influence.

She took a step forward, her eyes locked on Satoru's. "This could work, Satoru. Or are you too much of a coward to even try?"

"Ha?"

She leaned in, her hands gripping the arms of his chair. "Tell me, do these supercharged T-cells unnerve you? Make you uncomfortable with yourself?"

I had to look away. The sight of them so close together made my stomach churn. I didn't want to see whatever was about to happen. She whispered something I couldn't make out, but the intensity in her eyes was clear. A wave of irritation, of jealousy, washed over me.

My phone buzzed, a welcome distraction. I pulled it out, annoyance flaring when I saw the caller ID.

"Damn it." I answered the call. "Shoko, what is it?"

"Hey Suguru, look, we have an emergency here and the other neurologist is out sick. We need someone to jump in, can you come?"

I rubbed my temple. "Alright, I'm on my way."

I turned back to them, already gathering my things. "We'll pick this up later. There's a situation at the hospital." I looked at her, concern replacing my irritation. "Get some rest. You look like hell."

The words were out before I could stop them, harsher than I intended. But I was already halfway out the door.

Later, as I was scrubbing into surgery, my own words echoed in my mind.

And I felt awful.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

Sharp autumn air stung my lungs with each greedy drag on my cigarette.

Across the table, Satoru's fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on the worn table that set my teeth on edge. I had to resist the urge to reach over and grab his wrist to make him stop. His eyes were glued to his phone. Overhead, the sky was a bruise-colored canvas, the sun barely visible.

Forgotten coffee grew cold between us.

I took another long drag from my cigarette. Satoru shifted opposite of me, his leg bouncing with nervous energy. He hadn't looked away from his phone in minutes, his fingers twitching as if itching to type a message.

We sat like this for a while at the campus outdoor cafeteria. Students hurried past. Neither of us said a word.

"Sorry for ditching you with my patient the other day," he finally said. "How'd it go?"

I exhaled a plume of smoke and watched it vanish into the leaden sky. "Everything's fine. Medication's good, MRI was clean."

"That's good news," he said, already back to his phone, unlocking and locking it in a nervous tic. "Knew you'd take care of her." He glanced up with a smirk. "So she actually went through with the MRI? How'd that go?"

I let out a dry laugh. "Let's not talk about it." I stubbed out my cigarette butt in the grimy ashtray and immediately lit another. "Didn't know you were so soft with your patients."

"I'm not a monster, you know." He shrugged, gaze dropping back to his phone. "I do what's best for them, even if it means bending the rules a bit." He paused, a smirk once again forming on his lips. "She's pretty straightforward, huh?"

"Did you sleep with her?" I asked bluntly.

Satoru's head snapped up, eyebrows raised. "What, you think I'm screwing every student that walks through my door?"

"You seem familiar."

"She's nice. I was nice in return. That's all." His attention was already drifting back to the bright screen. "Besides, she works with Higurama. He asked me to keep an eye on her."

I exhaled slowly, the smoke a grey ghost against the darkening sky.

"She's doing okay, by the way," he offered without looking up.

My blood ran cold.

I knew who he was talking about. We both did.

Satoru's gaze met mine, his smirk gone. "I know you want to ask."

Silence fell. I wondered if he could sense the fever-pitch of my pulse, if he knew about my feelings for her. Because the way he looked at me now, I had a sinking feeling he did. My fingers tightened around my coffee cup.

"It's not easy for her," I said, trying to sound indifferent.

"Yeah." Satoru's expression hardened. "I should kill Yaga over this whole mess."

"Still, her plan might actually work. It's a good one."

"Yeah, but at what cost?" His leg started its anxious bouncing again under the table. "She's pushing herself too damn hard."

He paused, then blurted, "We should leave this university."

"Like we talked about before you backed out?"

"You know why." He unlocked his phone again, only to lock it a second later with a sigh. "I can't leave her alone with these maniacs."

"The whole staying away from her thing isn't really working out, huh?"

"Of course not," Satoru scoffed with a weary sigh. "I should've known better."

I took a sip of the coffee gone cold and bitter minutes ago, watching him over the rim. He raked a hand through his hair, then tugged at the strands, his leg still bouncing under the table. Something was eating at him.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, fine," he replied curtly.

I watched him for a beat longer. He was clearly anything but fine. But I knew better than to push it. He wouldn't tell me anyway. Satoru always kept that shit bottled up tight.

But there was another issue too, wasn't there?

"How's the medication treating you?" I asked instead. "We should get your liver enzymes checked soon."

"Huh?" He looked up from his phone, clearly surprised by the question — as if he'd forgotten about his failing liver.

Just then, Zenin Maki and her friends strolled past our table. Okkotsu gave us a quick wave as they passed, and I returned a faint smile.

It was strange. She wasn't with them.

Come to think of it, I hadn't seen her around campus at all since we last crossed paths in the lab.

Satoru's gaze followed them as they scanned the outdoor seating area for a table. His eyes widened, then he quickly stood up. "Sorry, Suguru, I have to go," he said hastily, not giving me any explanation. But I should be used to this by now.

It wasn't the first time.

He was already gone, leaving his coffee cold and abandoned in his wake. I took another long drag of my cigarette, stubbed it out in the overflowing ashtray, and reached for my phone.

[12:15 PM] Me: So, Saturday at 9pm? Know a good sports bar if you're into that.

[12:16 PM] Attorney: Sounds good, love sports. Send me the address.

next chapter ->

author's note: i'm so thrilled to hear your thoughts on geto's pov! he's really struggling with gojo and s&c reader being the mess that they are and his feelings in all of it, but don't worry, he'll get his happy ending (with you) too hehe <33

i hope it wasn't too confusing though. this is my first time writing a spin-off, so if you haven't read symptoms and causes, it must be quite confusing at times. but the next chapters will focus less on the s&c reader and more on geto and the r&r reader of course. but i love how i can provide background info for s&c through this story and vice versa :)) & lastly, thank you so much for reading !! your support truly means the world. hope u all have a great day !! <3

pls comment on the masterlist for the taglist. or consider subscribing to the story on AO3, if you'd like to stay updated on future chapters.

🏷️ @nanamis-baker @whereflowerswenttodie @certainlysyko @ri-sa20 @biancaness

@roseified @rixo-19 @madaqueue @starmapz @alwaysfreakingout

@gojoluvs @totallytatum @shervinss

#remedies and reasons #suguru geto #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #suguru geto fanfiction #geto fanfic #geto fanficiton #geto suguru #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk fanfiction #jjk fanfic #suguru geto x reader

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vixstarria · 4 months ago

Text

Sweat

Astarion, Halsin and Tav become a triad after the fall of the Netherbrain. This is a story of how it begins, progresses, and eventually ends.

Astarion x named F!Tav x Halsin

porn with (!) plot / character study, but through smut

18+, smut, threesome, double penetration, lots of dirty talk, what else... you know what, just refer to the AO3 tags, link below

In my headcanon, Halsin approaches both Asmodea and Astarion together, rather than just Asmodea alone.

This fic picks up their story where I left it in A Night at the Inn, and is a companion for Chapter 10 of Bloodbang Chronicles (in which Astarion is the one receiving - you can read that chapter as a standalone if you want). All three pieces are threesome smut.

Or, if you want more of Astarion's dynamic with Asmodea, check out Bloodbang Chronicles generally.

Anyway, enjoy!

Approx. 7.9k words

AO3

Each section break signifies a jump forward in time.

Of course the bloody druid was after her too - just about everyone else in this blasted group had been at one point or another. Astarion sighed inwardly as he observed the druid conversing with his lover.

Halsin hadn’t been with them long. He hadn’t mingled much with the rest of the group during the journey from the Emerald Grove, and then, on reaching the Shadowcursed Lands, he had stayed back at Last Light, having only rejoined them recently.

But ever since, the druid had been giving Asmodea increasing amounts of attention. Even now, having just finished talking with her, Halsin's eyes trailed her as he drew on his pipe.

Why should he be any different - just about everyone else had made some advances on their de facto ‘leader’ by then. Only Karlach had always stayed on friendly terms with her – Astarion had worried that might change after that blacksmith Dammon sorted her little tactile problem, but it appeared their bond had remained sister-like.

As for his own claim on the woman – it seemed he was widely disregarded as a rake. Taken for a temporary thing she and anyone else would discard without a moment’s hesitation, if anything more tangible came along. Never mind that his feelings had been growing each day, despite his efforts to the contrary. As had her own, towards him, unless he was blind.

Was she even aware of any of this..? She had to be.

As Astarion pondered this, Asmodea sat down next to him, pressing her thigh against his and leaning against him; as though just a small fragile thing seeking protection or warmth from him – despite the fact she barely needed the former anymore, and he couldn’t provide the latter. Still, it made for an excellent and obvious display for everyone around them. Without thinking, he pulled her against him by her waist, pressing his lips against her temple.

She looked up at him, eyes twinkling in lighthearted glee.

“I know,” she whispered, inclining her head slightly towards the druid.

“I know you know,” Astarion murmured back. Well, now he did, anyway.

“Good,” she said, giving him a quick peck on the lips and turning her attention to the food in front of her.

Astarion glanced at Halsin, who sat across the fire. The druid met his gaze. Not in challenge, but rather with... open curiosity. The druid’s lips curled in a genuine smile, his eyes lingering on Astarion’s longer than generally acceptable.

…Oh. …Hah!

Astarion looked away, amused, smirking into his wine goblet. It seemed he had misread the druid, somewhat. Yes, he knew that look very well.

Godsdamned wood elves…

“Could you go ask Lae’zel for one of her training swords?”

“Why?”

“I’ll show you. ...But also I think she will be less inclined to murder me for wasting everyone’s time, if she’s curious about me needing a sword with my morning bath.”

“She’ll have to murder me and Halsin first.” Astarion grumbled, but left the inn’s bathing room to retrieve the sword.

Him and Halsin… A debaucherous night spent with both of them, lasting well into the morning. Astarion had mostly watched or directed her and Halsin, still not wanting to be touched himself, but it was, undoubtedly, the most they had done since before the night they had their heart to heart in the Shadowcursed Lands.

Halsin hesitated at the door.

“Before I leave this room, I must know... Once this door shuts behind me, is... this-” he gestured at the three of them, “staying behind as well? Or can the future hold something for us?” She knew the druid would have accepted whichever answer he was given, but she could tell he was a hair’s breadth from a pained expression.

She exchanged a look with Astarion. It was he who finally spoke.

“It doesn’t have to stay behind. You’ve been better for us than you might realise,” he said, with a grin. “But let’s talk about that later.”

“I am glad,” Halsin said, smiling, before leaving.

What in the hells had they just started..?

Astarion returned with the blunted practice weapon.

“Most of the others have gone out into the city. And you were right, the moment I asked Lae’zel for a sword, she swapped all murderous intent to curiosity.”

Asmodea took the sword and submerged most if it in the lukewarm water in the tub, channelling a Heat Metal spell through it.

“Old bard trick,” she explained to Astarion, waiting for the water to heat up. “So,” she added, looking up at Astarion. “Halsin.”

“Yes,” he said, thoughtfully. “Halsin.”

They exchanged and held equally incredulous looks, before breaking out into laughter.

“I told you he wanted both of us!” Asmodea exclaimed amid the tittering. “So… What do you think? Truly?” she asked once the laughter had died down a bit.

“It�� It was certainly entertaining, sharing you with him,” Astarion snickered.

“And you..? Do you think you would be comfortable..? Being ‘shared’?”

“I’m not averse to the idea... But, for now, he might be more than I can handle.”

“...Well, with enough patience, determination and grease...”

“Why do I even like you...” Astarion muttered, heaving a massive, exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes. “That is not how I meant that!” he exclaimed. “...Although that too, most likely.”

They broke into another fit of laughter.

“But I… I don’t see any harm in it. I think it could be good, even,” Astarion said, softly this time, once they had both calmed down. “What about you..?”

Astarion sat on the roof of the Elfsong, watching the streets below. He was most certainly not on the lookout for two figures - a slender one with a disarray of locs on her head, and a robust-looking one that would tower over the first. How long had they been gone now, anyway?

He sipped his wine, straight from the bottle. It was pleasant, but lacked the kick he had grown used to from adding blood to it. Wyll would have agreed to donate some, if he’d only asked, but he couldn’t bear to go downstairs and be seen by anyone. He knew what they were all thinking.

Asmodea and Halsin had been eager to explore whatever it was they had set in motion. As for Astarion, after the initial elation had subsided, he just wanted time to himself to think, and so he had all but shoved them out the door together. Halsin had made it abundantly clear he wanted to include Astarion. Astarion, in turn, assured them both that he was happy for them to spend some time alone that night. And Asmodea… Asmodea had been visibly conflicted, but listened to him in the end.

And now he was hiding out on the roof, not being in the mood to explain to anyone why his lover had suddenly taken off with another. They had tried to be discreet, but you couldn’t sneeze without everyone in camp knowing about it and making it their business, much less have a little… arrangement.

Was that all it was?

He probed at his own feelings as he swirled the wine in his mouth, and found them to be a nonsensical potpourri of jealousy, relief, doubt, giddiness, inadequacy, excitement, fear and hope. The emotions mixed and swirled, constantly replacing one another at the forefront of his mind.

Astarion found himself, once again, contemplating how he himself felt about the druid.

There was a physical attraction, certainly. But also an admiration. A certain peace and serenity was to be found in his company - something Astarion hadn’t felt in centuries. Astarion often found himself discarding all his usual masks with Halsin, disarmed by the druid’s own earnestness.

Above all, he felt safe.

What would it be like..? Having this… gentle giant, to share with Asmodea.

Sweet pondering thoughts switched abruptly to more mundane and grounded ones.

What were they doing now? Talking about him, perhaps? Resolving that he wasn’t necessary after all? Or maybe just happily fucking each other’s brains out, not giving him a single thought to begin with?

Was all this just a massive, stupid mistake?

Thoughts spiralling and racing, Astarion gulped down more of the wine. He could go for more of that herb, whatever it was, that Halsin had given him the other night, Astarion thought - he refused to believe it was really catnip. He surveyed the street below, again. How long could it possibly take?!

Karlach appeared on the roof, holding a bottle of her own by the neck.

Ah, here comes the envoy of the pity committee…

“Hey Fangs. You alright..? Do I need to knock some sense into anyone?”

“I’ll have you know, I had their invitation, and they had my blessing,” he all but snarled, choosing to cut straight to the point.

“Right, whatever,” she said, sitting down next to him. “You elves are fucking weird, you know.”

“Yes, well, after a few centuries you change your perspective on some trivialities,” he snapped.

Karlach only emitted a brief, bitter laugh.

…Shit.

Astarion belatedly realised she was the last person to whom he should have said anything about longevity or life expectancy. He turned to look at her. Her forehead, he now noticed, bore a sheen of perspiration despite the pleasantly cool weather, her breathing was more laboured than usual.

“How’s your engine?” he asked, softly.

“Shit,” she said, taking a swig from her bottle, and drawing her knees up against her chest.

Another nail for his proverbial coffin.

He reached out, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, letting her lean against himself. He didn’t know what to say, but this - this was close enough to what he had done countless times for drunk and newly single women seeking a shoulder to cry on and a dick to ride on, before whisking them to their demise - though he truly meant the gesture this time.

“Saw an old friend of mine today,” Karlach said, quietly. “She’s having a baby. I told her I’d go see her once all this was over.” She sniffed, masking it as a chuckle. “Never going to happen, is it?”

Cazador’s presence still looming over him, tadpole still in his brain, his lover in another’s arms (at his own insistence, no less), AND he could lose his friend any day.

Astarion said nothing and rubbed her shoulder.

He lay in bed when Asmodea finally returned. She seemed hesitant, only giving him a worried look when she realised he was still awake. He wordlessly lifted the edge of the blanket in invitation. With some relief writ on her face, she joined him under the covers. She fidgeted, as though unsure just how to settle down, until he pulled her tightly against himself.

“Do you want to know..?” she asked.

He thought she would smell of the druid. Instead, she smelled like she just bathed.

“Not really,” he answered.

She snuggled against him as she would ordinarily, to go to sleep, but the silence between them was pregnant, and before long, she sighed and leaned away from him, reclining on her elbow.

“Star…”

Astarion opened his eyes and met her gaze.

Gods, but he didn’t want to talk about anything just then.

He pressed a finger to her lips, then stroked her face, gently, looking into her eyes. What was it he read in them..? Concern, maybe. Worry. Pleading? Was that… fear..?

Something twisted in his chest. He couldn’t bear to have her look at him like that.

He pulled her back against himself, pressing his lips against hers, as she melted into him, her tension beginning to dissipate. She wanted to say something, but he kissed her again and again, hands beginning to roam her. If only he could show her all his love... He caressed reassurance into her body, as he knew words would fail him now. Pulled her clothes off so he could feel her, all of her, and be felt. She did the same for him, also having given up on saying anything, turning instead to conveying her affection and longing through touch alone, just as they had done all that time ago, when their blossoming love for one another was still an open but unspoken secret.

But what had happened to this same body earlier..?

Even through the tenderness that had just overtaken him, he found that the thought intrigued him. His mind wandered to images of her writhing with the druid, coming undone in ecstasy, the way he had already witnessed them do earlier. The images caused a warm coil to tighten at the bottom of his stomach. How close were they to reality, he wondered.

As her clothes came off and her body wrapped around his, his fingers probed and sought evidence of her evening. Was she too tender? Too swollen? Did she seem sore? Was she bruised anywhere? The druid had been mindful of his proportions and movements in the night that they all shared together, but who knew, maybe Halsin lost his restraint and had simply healed any damage he had done after.

Perhaps he did want to know.

Lewd thoughts turned to outrage at the very idea that anyone might have possibly hurt what was his. Even if he willingly shared some part of her. She was his.

Astarion’s arms tightened around her, and he deepened his kiss, moaning into her mouth. She tangled her fingers in his hair and whimpered, softly.

“Ugh, gross…” Astarion heard Karlach saying a few beds over. “Hey Gale… Gale!”

The wizard produced something between a snore and a disgruntled salutation, and cast a habitual sphere of silence around the pair’s bed, before presumably immediately falling back asleep somewhere beyond the privacy screens.

Astarion’s fingers slipped between Asmodea’s legs, earning him a moan as she spread wider for him. Wet, so wet. For him. As she should be.

He wanted to fuck her hard into the bed, lay his claim on her, but he didn’t want to be compared with the druid so soon after whatever had happened between him and her. Instead, he slipped his fingers inside her, twisting and curling them, digging into the sweet spot within her - where she told him no one before him had ever pleasured her properly. This was his and his only. He pressed his fingers into it rougher than usual, until she panted and whined. Had she made these same sounds for Halsin earlier this night?

“Gods… Please don’t stop,” she gasped.

“Oh I’m not stopping anytime soon, darling,” he whispered in her ear.

Perhaps sensing something different in his voice, she opened her eyes and looked up at him as he leaned over her, his fingers still working inside her.

“How many times did you come for him?”

“Ast-” she began.

“How many?” he asked again, punctuating his words by rolling her clit with his thumb.

She swallowed hard, her cunt already starting to pulse in little pre-orgasm contractions around his fingers.

“Twice,” she said, wetting her lips.

“Then you owe me three.”

He moved his hand faster, mercilessly building more and more pressure.

Mine… Before anyone else’s, mine. Not the druid’s. Not her bloody patron’s. Not the godsdamned Emperor’s. Not that devil’s. No one’s. Only mine.

Her moans were mounting, almost turning into screams. She sat up, leaning back on her elbows, stilling, looking into his eyes and accepting what he was giving her. Just as she threw her head back and released a desperate groan, he sank his fangs into her neck.

Mine, mine, mine, mine…

She came all over his hand, completely losing all control, legs shaking as he stroked her more gently through her orgasm, even as he drank from her.

He broke away from her neck, humming soothingly as she gasped and sobbed quietly in the aftershocks of her orgasm. He kissed up her neck until his lips were at her ear again.

“One.”

Astarion watched Asmodea and Karlach toppling over one another, laughing, as they swapped stories of living in Avernus and living on the road travelling inn to inn (which at times sounded to have been rougher than Avernus). Halsin shared their table. He had been nursing the same tankard of mead for the past few hours, Astarion noticed, probably having gotten the drink solely to avoid anyone else inevitably forcing one on him.

A semi-decent bardic troupe had taken stage, playing something raucous but catchy.

“Come on, Halsin, come dance with me!” Karlach offered.

“I’m afraid I have two left legs, and a bear’s grace besides,” he declined with a smile and firm shake of his head.

“Aww,” Karlach pouted. “What about you, Fangs? Dance with me?”

“Darling, you have to wine and dine me before you get to dance me, and I’ve been carrying your tab ever since we got to the city.”

“Please??”

“No.”

“Ever seen a cat on a leash?” Asmodea butted in. “When it just plops down on the ground and refuses to move, even as you drag it? That’s Astarion when he doesn’t want to do something,” she laughed. “Let’s go, I’ll dance with you.”

And just like that, Astarion found himself left alone at the table with Halsin.

“Perhaps something needs to be said,” Halsin remarked with a coy grin, once the silence stretched too long for comfort. If Astarion hadn’t known any better, he might even have thought that the druid was teasing him.

Oh for hells’ sake…

Without a word, Astarion turned towards the druid, grasped his face with both hands, and pulled him down to kiss him.

Somewhere in the back of Astarion’s mind, he thought that if he had been a poet, he would have said that the kiss tasted something like honey and the warmth of a hearth on a rainy night. But no, the kiss mostly tasted like Halsin’s tobacco mixture, with a subtle hint of the cheap mead he had been pretending to drink. By no means repugnant, but not earth-shattering either.

But then he was pulled against a broad chest by strong but gentle hands, his kiss returned with tender passion and reverence, and something inside him fluttered.

They had taken to sleeping together, tiring of the game of musical chairs when it came to the large bed at their disposal, and the necessity to continuously move their things around.

They hadn’t had another night as debauched as their very first one - a kind of subdued modesty had replaced open lust once feelings were laid bare, their lovemaking treated with delicacy.

It hadn’t yet been long since Astarion had begun allowing himself to fully indulge in sex again, and thus far it had only been with Asmodea, and only privately.

That night, they both happened to find themselves awake next to the sleeping druid. Unassuming embraces led to tender kisses, led to sensual touches, led to unabashed groping and stroking, until they became a tangle of limbs, giggling and shushing at each other, a sheet pulled over their heads as though it would hide or muffle anything they had been doing.

Astarion had been leaving a trail of kisses down Asmodea’s neck when she realised that the sheet was slowly but steadily slipping off to one side. She turned her now uncovered head to see Halsin tugging on the covers, until she and Astarion were laid completely bare before the druid.

Astarion glanced at the other elf but only went right back to kissing and caressing her, like it was the most normal and natural thing in the world to do so before an audience.

Asmodea’s breath hitched as Astarion’s fingers, which had been playing with a nipple, slid lower, to stroke her slit, gliding with no resistance, spreading her slick.

“Hmm, already..?” he purred in her ear. “You like being watched, don’t you?” He grinned and continued to caress between her legs, dipping his fingers inside her.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” she said, innocently.

Astarion simply brought his fingers up to her mouth in response, letting her lick and suck her own juices off them, groaning softly. He continued to move his fingers in and out of her mouth, letting her suck and nibble on them.

“Should we show him more, my love?” he murmured, loud enough that he was sure that Halsin heard as well. “Should we show him how I make you come?”

An assenting hum had barely left Asmodea, when Astarion sat up between her legs, reaching to rub and slide his erection between her legs, coating it in her slick.

“My wanton minx… Always so eager,” he purred, before burying his cock inside her.

He plunged deep inside, but only gave her a few cursory thrusts, before leaning over her and beginning to roll his hips against her in hard, rhythmical, circular motions. He kept her stretched and full with his cock, but didn’t give her much inner friction, instead focusing the pressure on her clit. Persistent, knowing, unrelenting. But also gentle and loving. He could keep going like this as long as she needed - not that this ever took long.

Asmodea moaned and sighed in pleasure, the sensation gently but steadily bringing her closer and closer to her peak. She relaxed into it, beginning to pulse and squeeze around Astarion’s length before long, her moans building.

“That’s it, show him…” he purred. “Show him how you come on my cock.”

The sound of his voice brought her over the edge, melting helplessly under him in soft, keening moans. Only then did he really begin thrusting, perhaps being unable to withstand any more of this tease himself.

She doubted it had been much of a display, but the druid stirred next to them with a throaty groan,

“Beautiful…” he whispered.

Asmodea drew Astarion in a kiss, before rolling on top of him, dismounting, and kissing down his neck and torso towards his cock, rock-hard with his own unreleased need.

He breathed hard as she kissed and licked around it, perhaps not entirely unaffected by the presence of another in their bed either.

“Do you want me to do this,” she purred, regarding him from beneath her lashes, as she kissed the tender skin of his inner thighs, “or Halsin?”

Astarion hesitated, cock twitching in desperation to be pleasured by anyone.

“You,” he breathed, finally. She eagerly licked up his shaft and swirled her tongue around the head, and Astarion fell back against the pillows, shutting his eyes and tangling his fingers in her hair. “…This time,” he added.

It was Halsin’s decision to return to Reithwin after the fall of the Netherbrain. He sought to rebuild the city, gathering orphans, misfits and others who were displaced by the Absolute’s army. Astarion and Asmodea chose to go with him, not wanting to be separated, and not having any better ideas or plans besides.

It was a strange time in their lives. Elation at newfound freedom, mixed with the grief for the loss of Astarion’s ability to walk in the sun, and the overall uncertainty of their future. Neither were accustomed to what they had found themselves in.

Asmodea had returned to what she knew best, providing entertainment for the residents of the settlement. The children adored her, to her bemusement, bringing her small gifts: drawings, wreaths made of flowers that now grew throughout what used to be cursed and barren lands, beads they insisted she braid and tie into her hair.

Astarion in turn had been talked by Halsin into giving literacy and history lessons to the orphans. In part because there weren’t many others willing or able to do it, and in part, Asmodea suspected, simply to give him something to occupy himself with - he tried to hide it, but he had been miserable ever since the tadpole was removed from his brain along with all its benefits.

She walked in at the end of one such lesson, the makeshift classroom illuminated by candles and magelights, curtains and shutters drawn securely against the daylight.

“You’re very patient with them,” Asmodea noted with a smile, once the classroom cleared.

“I have an entire eternity to wait while they figure out the difference between ‘d’ and ‘b’,” Astarion sighed.

“Another group arrived today. Lots of kids. They’ll be joining these before long.”

“If they must,” Astarion rolled his eyes. “But can you do me a favour?” he asked. “No more teenage girls - someone else can deal with them. In fact, you take them.”

Asmodea lifted an eyebrow in question.

“They come in here, painted with rouge and charcoal, and try to make eyes at me instead of listening,” Astarion explained. “It’s disconcerting.”

The three lounged on a sofa in the house they had claimed for themselves. At one end, Halsin was busy with some ledgers that had been dumped on him - gods only knew why, he didn’t have a head for this kind of work. At the other, Astarion was likewise quietly busy with some novel, biding his time until the last rays of the sun hid. He would be out the door for a hunt the moment it was safe for him. Asmodea sprawled between them, her head on Astarion’s lap, her legs thrown over one of Halsin’s thighs.

Gods, but she was bored.

She regarded Halsin and the open misery written on his face as he tried to reconcile… What was it? Purchase orders of masonry and tools, against what had actually been recorded as delivered, against what had been charged.

Her bare foot slid between Halsin’s legs and pressed into his crotch, through his breeches.

“Could it be one of the missing hammers is here..?”

“Not now, my heart,” was his response.

She continued to lightly rub her foot against the bulge.

“Or is this one of the pillars..?”

“I must finish this before tomorrow,” he said, though he did not shift away from her, and had indeed begun to harden beneath her prodding.

“My, it’s erecting all by itself, why have we bothered to order any supplies at all when we have such marvels at hand?”

“You are truly testing my patience today,” he said in a low growl.

The ledger went flying across the room as she kicked it out of Halsin’s hands. The druid’s nostrils flared and he gave her a smouldering look.

“I warned you.”

She squealed as she found herself suddenly yanked by her leg down the sofa, off Astarion’s lap.

“Astarion!!” she laughed, reaching for him.

“No, no darling, you poked the bear and brought this upon yourself,” he said, unaffected, turning a page. “Now you must face the consequences.”

Halsin pulled her onto his own lap, flipping her onto her stomach, holding her down firmly with one hand, and pulling her pants down with the other.

“You brute! Just what do you think you’re doing?!” she cried out, trying not to laugh.

Halsin, though a generous, attentive and passionate lover, was not ordinarily one for such games, and getting him into a state of mind for one was a rare treat.

A loud sound resonated through the room, as a smack landed on one of her ass cheeks.

“I am teaching you a lesson.”

It could have been much harder, the druid was holding back, as per usual.

“How dare you?! Release me at once, you savage,” she cried, her voice faltering on the last word, as Halsin delivered another smack.

Astarion shifted where he lounged, now watching them through lidded eyes.

“It’s no use, you know - you’re just throwing more oil on the flames.”

Asmodea gasped as Halsin’s hand slid between her legs, stroking her.

“You’re right. Should I cease?”

She struggled and kicked but remained securely restrained by the druid, his digits now slipping inside her rapidly moistening hole.

“Absolutely not. You must remain steadfast and determined. Perhaps double down on your efforts until you see a result.”

The hand between her legs left and delivered a series of blows on her rear, the slaps now having a sting to them. Asmodea moaned between each one.

She looked at Astarion with her best round-eyed pleading face. His own book had been discarded as well.

“Star? My love? My sweet? Are you just - ah! - going to let him do this to me?!”

“There there, my love… I’ll kiss it better once he’s done with you.”

They lay beneath the stars, bathed in moonlight, the night warm and serene. Asmodea’s head rested on Astarion’s shoulder, their fingers entwined.

“What is the difference between me and him, for you?” Astarion asked, softly. “In the way you feel about us?”

She paused to consider her words before responding.

“With you, I feel like I can take on the entire world. Like we could set it ablaze and stand atop a pile of rubble, holding hands and watching it all burn,” she answered, before growing quiet again for some moments.

“And with him, I feel like maybe the world doesn’t need to burn. ...Or if it does, no matter what, he would be an undisturbed, peaceful grove. A place where one would be protected and nourished. Where they could forget about everything outside. ...Only they couldn’t stay in that grove forever.”

“That’s a good way of putting it,” Astarion chuckled quietly. “I think I feel more or less the same way. It’s that, and…” he began to say something, but cut himself short, and shook his head, not finishing the sentence.

“And what?” Asmodea encouraged him, smiling. “Tell me!”

“It’s going to sound completely idiotic after what you just said,” he explained, before sighing and continuing, at her insistence. “…And sometimes, it… feels nice, for me, to be the small and delicate one,” he explained, coyly.

Halsin’s cock filled her, thrusting into her in short, rhythmic strokes - he was always so conscious of not hurting anyone, even when they wanted him to simply let go.

She arched her back, legs spread wide, ass raised to meet his hips, and bucked back into him wantonly, sliding on his length. Her back would hurt later, but for now she didn’t have a care in the world.

Astarion’s cock filled her mouth. She worked it with the rhythm of Halsin’s thrusts from behind her, keeping a hand firmly on the base of his shaft, in case any sudden surprises came from Halsin.

“Good girl…” groaned Astarion. “My good, dirty girl…”

“She’s like a wildcat in heat,” followed from Halsin, his voice heavy with lust.

She moaned at the praise and curved her back further, trying to open herself up even more, urging Halsin further, deeper.

He gripped her hips harder with one of his hands, continuing to thrust into her, and dragged the fingertips of the other along and up her ass cheek, until they brushed over her puckered hole.

She groaned around Astarion’s cock as Halsin’s thumb teased around the edge of her asshole, hoping he would do more, trying to buck and grind her hips against his cock and hand harder.

“Careful, it’s me she’ll bite if you make her too desperate,” warned Astarion.

Halsin applied more pressure, rubbing her hole, as she mewled and whined around Astarion’s cock, trying to continue sucking it, but losing any finesse or rhythm. It only made him gasp and bury his fingers in her hair, tugging on it and holding her in place, as he started to fuck her mouth himself.

“If you want me to stop, just say the word,” said Halsin. Fucking hilarious, she thought, considering the things that were happening to her mouth at that moment. Well, they did have other ways of communicating set in place, for just this type of situation.

“She doesn’t want you to stop one bit,” purred Astarion. “Do you, pet?” He tugged on her hair and tilted her head, keeping his cock deep in her mouth. “Look at me,” he whispered. She met his eyes as he continued to slide his cock between her lips. His pupils were blown with lust and want. “Do you like what he’s doing?”

Asmodea could only hum in assent. The pressure from Halsin’s finger told her he was just on the cusp of dipping inside, and it was driving her mad.

“Think your tight little hole is ready for more today..?” Astarion purred, stroking her face as he fucked it. “Tell me.”

His dick slipped out of her mouth.

“Yes, for hells’ sake,” she gasped.

But, to her dismay, the druid slid out of her entirely, leaving her frustrated and empty. Before she could react, Astarion lifted her up on her knees from her position on all fours, and kissed her, caressing and teasing her tongue with his own.

“Do you want to try something new with us?” he whispered, his lips brushing against her own, before leaning away.

Off to her side, Halsin had laid on his back, lazily stroking his cock, which had remained at full mast for her. He beckoned her with his free hand, and, released by Astarion, she crawled on top of him. She wanted to taste him then, but he kept leading her up, until their hips were level, and then impatiently plunged back inside her.

Astarion’s arm wrapped around her from behind, and brought her back up into a sitting position on Halsin’s cock. He kissed and nibbled on her neck as the druid thrusted shallowly inside her.

Had they orchestrated this..?

“Hmm,” Asmodea hummed, with a sly smile. “What was that about tight holes?”

“Oh, this?” Astarion said, distractedly, sliding his fingers along her hip and the cleft of her ass until it reached her asshole and rubbed, teasing. “Why, is there something you want me to do with it..?”

She nearly hissed at him for his gloating, but Halsin chose that moment to pinch one of her nipples, and the noise that came out of her instead was closer to a whimper.

“You’re the one who said something about… wanting to try something new.” she managed, as Astarion continued to rub her hole, smirking. “So what is it?”

“Guess,” he purred against the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

Astarion had fucked her ass before. He wasn’t the first person she’d tried that with, but he was the one who managed to teach her to actually enjoy it. It wouldn’t be that, not exactly, but given Halsin’s presence and their obvious smugness - even Halsin appeared cocksure and brash…

“Are you both going to fuck me at once?” she grinned, biting her lip.

“Do you want us to?” he asked, his voice pure velvet. “Say it.”

Gods, this fucking man... Fine, two could play this game. Three, if Halsin was in the mood to go along with it - he usually wasn’t vocal, a contrast to Astarion, who simply wouldn’t ever shut up.

She leaned back, twisting and grinding hard against Halsin, and caught Astarion’s earlobe between her teeth, nipping at it, before murmuring back to him.

“I want to feel both of you, at once, fucking me, filling me. Now will you stop dallying? I want you inside me.”

Astarion let out what sounded like an involuntary groan, but before Asmodea could claim moral victory, she found herself thrown against Halsin’s chest, still stuffed with his cock, ass up.

“Inside you..? Where? Here?” Astarion asked, innocently, just before crouching down to tongue her asshole.

She gasped and laughed, squirming at the sudden sensation. But at last, it appeared Astarion had had enough of teasing her, as he retrieved a vial of oil, and hastily but generously coated his fingers with it, spreading it over her puckered hole as well.

She ground lightly against Halsin as Astarion inserted one finger, and then, at her obvious ease and eagerness, another. The druid was holding her down, not giving her much friction, and she mewled in protest at being restrained so.

“I thought you’d like that…” Astarion breathed in her ear. “More..?”

His fingers were a teasing promise of everything he was about to do to her, and she found she simply could not wait, and could not allow Astarion to find any reason to keep holding back.

“Please…” she begged.

“Please what?” he rasped.

“Please fuck me.”

She heard his breath hitch at her pleading. His fingers slipped out, and moments later, at last, she felt the tip of his cock against her entrance, slowly but insistently pushing its way in. She gasped as the sensation became overwhelming. There was no possible way that she could fit a single millimetre more of him, couldn’t be stretched even a hair’s width wider - and yet he kept going, cooing at her wide-eyed whimpers, until he filled her completely, pressing his chest against her back.

“Well look at you, filled to the brim with elf cock…” Astarion’s taunt didn’t carry its usual edge, given the way his voice trembled.

“I think she’s earned a little reward for that,” said Halsin, reaching up to cup and tenderly caress her breasts.

“I think so too,” said Astarion.

Astarion’s fingers, still covered in some of the oil, snaked down her stomach to her clit, and began drawing circles around it. Asmodea shut her eyes and threw her head back against Astarion’s shoulder, moaning.

The sensation, starting off as a building warmth, quickly grew more intense as his fingers sped up, gliding over her sensitive bundle of nerves. Her hips began to twitch, but were held down securely by Halsin, as he started to thrust up into her.

“This is your reward for being such a good girl,” Astarion whispered in her ear, his fingers now flicking her clit quickly.

She was caught off-guard by how quickly an orgasm overtook her, suddenly finding herself melting, helplessly pulsing and clenching around the hard lengths inside her. The sheer force of it had both Astarion and Halsin groaning and gasping, in short order.

“Gods… We have to make her do that again,” laughed Astarion.

“You’ve read my mind,” the druid said in agreement.

They both began to thrust into her, gently but persistently, rhythmically, and all she could do was pant and whimper at the stretch of both their cocks inside her, even as they talked around her.

“She’s so incredibly tight like this,” Astarion groaned. He paused, briefly, with an incredulous, breathy laugh. “I can feel you through her,” he gasped. “I can feel you thrusting.”

“Can you..?” Halsin rasped, and sped up, gripping her hips tightly, making both Asmodea and Astarion pant. Astarion swore through his teeth and picked up his own pace, unable to hold back any longer.

Asmodea found herself thrown atop the druid’s chest once again, as her lovers lost their reserve and began fucking her vigorously.

Good, it felt so fucking good, this intense pounding in both her holes, and she tried to voice as much, knowing how much Astarion loved it when she talked or praised him during their lovemaking, but any words she tried to say came out as unintelligible babbling.

It was a wonder how easily they’d found this maddening rhythm, working seamlessly to bring her and each other over the edge with their thrusting - but she supposed they had a combined 500 years of experience on her, at least.

She gave up on trying to say anything and simply moaned into Halsin’s neck.

“Is our little vixen going to come for us again..?” Astarion had crouched over her, keeping her sandwiched between himself and Halsin.

Her clit was pressed tightly against Halsin’s pelvis, and between that, the way the head of his impressive cock dragged against all her most sensitive parts with each thrust, as well as the sensation of Astarion’s hips mercilessly snapping against her ass, burying himself in her again and again, another orgasm began to wash over her.

Feeling her walls throb, nearing another climax, the elves also lost all control, chasing their own release within her body with reckless abandon. Her world became nought but bucking hips and the sound of grunts and smacking flesh. She could no longer tell where her body ended and theirs began. Her legs shook as everything between them convulsed in shockwaves resonating through her entire body. Astarion bit down on her shoulder with a strangled groan just as Halsin gave her a final hard thrust with an animalistic growl.

Asmodea’s vision blurred, and she must have passed for some moments, as she came to, to find that the frantic pounding had once again been replaced by gentle rocking, as final orgasmic aftershocks were ridden out.

Astarion slipped out of her first, leaving a trail of tender kisses down her shoulders and back, as Halsin simply embraced her, pressing his lips against the crown of her head, while she continued to lie on his chest.

“Did you like that, darling?” Astarion whispered, as though he had any doubt about the answer.

“Uh-huh,” she managed, remaining on top of Halsin as Astarion got up, somewhat shaky, in search of a towel.

“Are you well, my heart?” Halsin murmured to her.

“Yep,” she susurrated. “I’m just going to stay right here for now - I don’t think my legs are willing to listen to me yet.”

The druid chuckled and held her closer.

A bead of sweat rolled from Halsin’s forehead, down his nose, and dropped right into Asmodea’s eye.

She blinked and rubbed at it, trying to do it quickly, without drawing any attention to it, so it wouldn’t break the mood. It wasn’t a big deal, but gods was it irritating when it happened... …Gah, she had been so close, too.

The sex was great, truly, but this - the godsdamned sweat - was an area where Astarion won by a landslide - his body being much cooler, he simply did not perspire anywhere near as much as Halsin. His body would heat up from exertion, or from absorbing the warmth of his surroundings, but it was rare for his skin to even grow damp. Meanwhile, a prolonged cuddle session with Halsin, not to mention laying with him, inevitably ended with Asmodea lying or sliding in a puddle.

Astarion didn’t mind the heat radiating from the druid, and in fact preferred to wrap himself around Halsin when sleeping, but not possessing his own body heat, this only served to cool the druid down. Asmodea could not boast the same.

A multitude of other little things that once seemed endearing had begun to grate on her nerves as well, of late.

Halsin’s insistence on the orphans being welcome to run rampant through their home, including when she just wanted some peace and quiet. The ever-present aroma of tobacco - she enjoyed it when it was fresh, but after living together it seemed to permeate everything, including all of her possessions. The silent but disapproving sadness in his eyes when he brewed her fertility suppressant teas. The way he always forgot that the automatic pens did not need to be dipped in ink, or his blatant refusal to believe that their wall clock was accurate and reliable, instead opting to judge the time of day by the position of the moon or sun.

Astarion didn’t seem to mind most of that. In fact, his connection with the druid had only grown since their little triad had become official.

At wasn’t as sexual for the two of them – that aspect had always seemed to mostly hinge on Asmodea’s presence. Rather, they took on roles not unlike an old married couple’s - not necessarily approving of, but being resigned to each other’s routines and ways, and finding a quiet comfort in each other’s company.

And a comfort there was, for all of them. Serenity in their closeness. The pleasure of long, fascinating conversations about anything and everything, held over cozy nights. The simple security of being with those who would never cause harm or disrespect (unless they were asked to very nicely, anyway). The sheer strength of sexual attraction. Even if, for Asmodea, it all had never held quite the same spark as it had with Astarion. The same desperate need to love and be loved, needing the other the way one needed air. That part of her had always been Astarion’s.

Though Astarion hadn’t voiced any complaints about the druid, he had taken to frequently grumbling about their surroundings, saying his blades and wits had been growing dull.

He had been losing his mind from boredom. Being confined within a small settlement grated on him. Though reluctantly accepted by the residents, he was viewed as an oddity and was generally avoided. In turn, he was completely disinterested in the town’s affairs and its success. The teaching had become a joyless chore. He was stagnating.

Asmodea lay contemplating all of this in his arms later that morning, once Halsin had gotten up for the day. Increasingly, these thoughts wouldn’t leave her mind. Instead, they had become a constant haunting presence.

“Is everything okay..?” came a murmur from Astarion.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. It’s just… I think…” She hesitated, not knowing how to even begin putting any of it into words.

“You’re no longer happy,” Astarion said quietly.

“Mmhmm,” was all she managed, suddenly finding herself choked up.

Astarion went silent for a short while, before speaking.

“Is it me?” he asked. “Please just be honest.”

“What? No! It’s just… It’s the…” she paused, sighing, before words began spilling out of her. “Halsin, for instance. He’s just so damned good. And so certain in his knowledge, so set in his ways, so adamant about everything he feels needs to be done… And he’s so damned patient, too.”

“All his virtues are an absolute travesty, yes.”

“And in his patience,” Asmodea continued, “he makes me feel like I’m a child that he’s waiting to grow up. And I won’t. Because I’m not. …Does that make sense? ...Fuck, I don’t even know where I’m going with this. And then there’s all this,” she said, gesturing around them, “it was always his. It never became mine, or yours, I don’t think.”

“No,” Astarion whispered.

“I think… I think I just don’t want to be here, and as long as I stay here, I feel like no matter what I do, I’m being unfair to him, or to you, or to both. I don’t know what to do.” Her eyes watered. “I only know how not to be unfair to myself, and that means leaving,” she whispered.

“It’s not working anymore, is it, darling?” Astarion said, giving her a sad smile that made her heart clench.

“You can stay here, if you want,” she said, uselessly. “I can see how close you are.”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I want to stay here, much less stay here without you.”

She breathed a sigh of relief and hugged him.

“Where to, then? Back to Baldur’s Gate..?” he asked.

She nodded, wiping at her eyes.

“I think that’s the best option. It’s not that far, we could always write and visit.”

“We could,” said Astarion.

“I’ve had enough of tramping around, I want a place of my own, without any screaming children. And with proper walls. Locked doors. And plumbing.”

Astarion chuckled.

“And whatever shall we do in Baldur’s Gate, besides anything we damn well please?”

“I’ve been thinking about that… We could see just how far our ‘hero’ status can take us, capitalise on that…” Asmodea said, beginning to relax.

“And then? You’re grinning like you already have a plan.”

“More a dream than a plan. Promise not to laugh?”

“No.”

“Well, I’ll tell you anyway. So I’ve always wanted to open and run my own theatre...”

~~~~~

Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed this, check out A Night at the Inn and Bloodbang Chronicles!

Find the fic on AO3 as well.

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Tags:

@littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tragedybunny @spunky-89

@lariatbunny @whiskeyskin @asterordinary @wingsy-keeper-of-songs @spacebarbarianweird

@brabblesblog @littlejuicebox @icybluepenguin @snowfolly @ayselluna

@mj-bites @bardic-inspo @twirlywhirlywriting

#astarion #halsin #astarion x halsin #astarion x halsin x tav #smut #astarion smut #halsin smut #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfic #astarion x oc #astarion x f!oc #astarion x female tav #astarion x asmodea #bloodbang chronicles

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 month ago

Text

new things

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'winter sports'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated g | 732 words | no cw | tags: modern au, slice of life, hockey parents trying to navigate figure skating bless them

⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️

Rory barrels through the front door. Eddie follows behind at a slower pace, looking somber and resigned.

Steve watches as Rory runs to her room without even saying hi. Eddie meanders to the kitchen bar and sits in his usual spot.

He gently puts his forehead against the counter and sighs.

“She wants to try figure skating.”

Steve’s eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“She…who? Rory?” Steve asks because there’s no way Eddie could mean their daughter.

The girl once complained that figure skates were sent to ruin the ice for hockey players.

Eddie nods, not lifting his head from the counter.

“Rory Munson wants to try figure skating?” Steve asks for further clarification.

Eddie nods again, but lifts his head up this time. He looks like he’s in mourning.

“What brought this on?”

“They’re offering three free lessons to any hockey player who wants to try,” Eddie explains. “Ryenn is trying it so now she wants to.”

“But…”

“Dad!” Rory yells as she runs from her room. “I’m gonna do figure skating!”

“Um.”

Eddie raises his brow at Steve to silently tell him to be more encouraging, which is bold coming from the man with a red mark on his forehead from the emotional support countertop he was just laying on.

“Are you sure you wanna have toe picks?” Steve settles on, which is the best he can do right now.

“The coach said I’ll get used to them,” Rory shrugs. “If I like the free lessons, it’s only half price to do the beginner program!”

Steve nods, already doing the mental calculations for the cost plus the time minus his sanity equals burnout.

“What’s for supper?” She asks, already moving on from this jarring conversation.

“Uh, I’m making chicken parm,” Steve’s still lost in thought as he speaks. He looks back over at the stove where he was just about to start frying the chicken cutlets before they walked in. “Homework?”

“Just math,” she says as she looks at the contents by the stove. “Can I have two chickens?”

“Sure,” he says because she’s a growing kid and because he knows she probably still won’t even finish one.

She walks back to her room, presumably to do homework, and Steve tries to put his mind on the task at hand.

“This must be genetics from the other side,” Eddie interrupts Steve’s thoughts. “You would never have this in your DNA.”

“Have what?”

“A figure skater.”

Steve snorts. “Baby, she’s not gonna like it.”

“You hope.”

Steve sighs. “Well, kinda. Balancing that schedule on top of hockey would be a nightmare. Plus having to deal with figure skating parents and hockey parents makes me nauseous.”

Eddie nods in silent agreement.

“But if it makes her happy…”

“Ugh! I know!” Eddie puts his head back down on the counter. “If she’s happy, I’m happy. But why can’t she be happy with just hockey?”

“She might be, baby,” Steve reminds him. “And she’ll always love hockey most.”

“We hope.”

****

Rory hated figure skating, but she stuck it out for the three lessons because Ryenn did.

Steve smiles as the last lesson finishes up with Rory once again forgetting about the toe picks and falling on her hands. It’s not like he ever wants to see her fail, but he saw the schedule for the beginner program. He likes having two nights a week at home with Eddie and Rory. The program would take those right off his calendar.

She comes off the ice with a frown.

Steve unlaces her skates even though she can do it herself.

Her arms are crossed over her chest.

“I don’t like figure skating,” she finally admits.

“Okay,” Steve replies.

“Okay?” Rory sounds unsure now, less mad and more worried that Steve might be mad.

“Yeah, green bean. I could tell your heart wasn’t in it. No harm in trying, though. Now you know.”

Rory nods, relaxing as she slips her sneakers on.

On their way out of the rink, she points out a poster that shows curling lessons every Saturday.

“Look! Only $10!”

Steve resists a groan as he turns to the reception desk to sign her up for a lesson.

“You and daddy can do it with me!” She says as she bounces on her feet next to him.

He smiles at the front desk person and sighs.

“Three for the curling lessons please.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie events #steddie holiday drabbles #bear hugs universe

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bangtangalicious · 2 years ago

Text

gimme more (m) | jjk

pairing: jungkook x f-reader

genre: smut pwp drabble innocent!jungkook x innocent!reader, loss-of-innocence!au

wc: 1.2k (short!)

summary: you grind on jungkook till he cums in his pants

warnings: 18+ (be gone children!) pw(o)p explicit smut. NEEDY koo but what did you expect, whining, outercourse, grinding or rather riding jungkook for all he's worth, cumming in pants, licking, begging, stuttering, multiple orgasms bc jk is a horny boi, just wild messy filth, light manhandling, one smacc on dat ass, inexperienced!koo & reader, fondling, breast play, did i mention needy koo? unedited

part of the touch me wherever universe. *can be standalone*

Jungkook loved going shopping with you. Especially the part where you'd try on anything he picked out and twirl around for him. Like a little plaything. He'd test your limits at first. A cute crop top. A black bikini. A short sundress.

Could you blame him? The way your plump little ass looked in the flimsy fabric had him crossing his legs in an attempt to hide the raging hard on in his sweats.

Today the roles were reversed though. Jungkook needed new pants.

Why? Because he kept ruining them. Because of you. Too embarrassed to let his parents wash them in the laundry, afraid he would have to explain how easily you could make him cum without even trying.

As you dragged him into the Calvin Klein store, he was immediately uncomfortable. So many pictures of naked men. Were you looking? Did you like it? Of course not, you only like Jungkook, you told him yourself.

You wouldn't lie to him, right?

"I like these" You handed him a pair of dark jeans, a blue so deep it reminded him of the ocean. "Go try them on"

He did, jumping into the thick fabric. The pants were snug. When he walked out of the fitting room, he almost choked seeing that you were trying on some underwear.

"Oh hey" You were unphased. Then again, why should you mind? Jungkook had seen your body. Kissed and licked every inch of it. You had nothing to hide from him.

But he had something to hide from you. You wouldn't be able to tell, not in these jeans. But Jungkook needed you now.

He scolded himself internally. Can't you keep it together one fucking time! He worried you'd find him pathetic. Once you learned better.

Seokjin had offered to teach the two of you how to have sex properly. Jungkook knew you were curious, but frankly he liked things they way they were. You knowing only the taste of him. His lips. His cock.

Self-control? Jungkook never needed it. Why should he? You'd never deny him. What would he do if you did, what would he do if you said no? If you tried to pull away as he picked you up into his lap, kicking the dressing room door shut? If you didn't let him seat your cushy little cunt right over his zipper, gripping your thighs so tight?

He'd probably cry. And he knew you'd never deny him then.

Could you tell he was hard? He watched your face intently, while you continued to play with the straps of the bra you were clearly not finding comfortable.

Jungkook could help with that. It would be his pleasure.

He snapped the damn thing off.

You sighed with relief, his hands tracing the imprint of the tight underwire before cupping over your mounds. You were so fucking pretty, and you didn't even know it. But he liked that you didn't know. If you did, you might leave him. He wouldn't know how to survive without you. Without being able to touch you just like this.

"Do you like them?"

Jungkook raised his eyebrows at you.

"The jeans?" Ohh.

His hands slid to your bare back, pulling you closer till your chest was pressed against his. He wanted to feel you, but he couldn't not through those damn jeans. The desperation had him boiling inside. Feverish, as you mindlessly rolled your hips.

He gritted his teeth, aware of the warmth between your thighs and wishing he could feel the slippery wetness that was no doubt there. Instead he grabbed handfulls of your ass, pushing you up, letting you bounce on his groin. Once, then a little harder. Harder.

"Fuckk" Jungkook screamed in frustration. Nails digging into the cotton panties. He pushed his hips up, desperately trying to get friction for his cock. "Why can't I feel you--I wanna feel you, Y/n"

His cock strained painfully, trapped within the confines of his jeans. So badly he wished it would tear open, so that you could bounce right on his cock. You were so fucking warm, and tight, he knew how you felt. How could he go on now that he knew--he needed you all the time!

"It hurts" He whined, "It hurts so bad" You caressed his shoulders, getting him to calm down. Jungkook exhaled shakily, eyes red with fury.

"Let me try" You shifted your weight, clenching your thighs around his torso. You rolled your hips, deep and intentional, doing your best to spread open so that the tiny bulge in his pants could sneak right in.

"Mmpfh" His face was buried into your neck, hair brushing against your breast. "More, m-more please, need to feel more"

You did as he said. He loved you for that. Loved how eager you were to meet his every need. He would do the same for you, of course. The thought reminding him to reward your effort by popping your breast into his mouth. Lightly biting on the flesh.

"Koo" You blushed, grinding down even harder. Finally Jungkook was able to get some friction. A bare semblance of satisfaction. It only left him craving more.

"Y-yeah, harder please I can feel it" He buried his face into your chest as you rode him. Ass thrusting against his rigid jeans. The tent growing as he bucked his hips.

You began to slow down.

"NO" Instinctively, Jungkook slapped your ass.

You froze.

"Uh, I'm sorry, didn't mean to do that--d-don't stop PLEASE! fuck don't stop now just keep going like that just a little bit. Please, for me, it's so good, it's so fucking good, don't stop"

He kissed your lips, urging you on. "Feels so good, just wanna fit right into you like this" He thrust up, brushing against your clit. You groaned in response.

"You like it too, don't even lie to me Y/n. You like sitting on me like this" He peppered kisses across your jaw, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you moving against him.

"Just a bit more. Can you o-open wide please? Yeah, yeah," Jungkook sighed as you flattened your pussy right onto his bulge. You moved back and forth, rubbing up against him desperately.

"G-gunna, oh god Y/n, I'm--" Jungkook hissed loudly. Painfully, he came, pressure snapping within him. His cock twitched, still desperate to release. Still hard as a rock.

You looked at him curiously, wondering if he was done.

As if.

"Get off" He pushed you suddenly. You yelped, his movements quick as he stood up, grabbing you by the waist, turning you around and pinning you against the wall.

"Koo--wait"

Jungkook let out a low growl. He was far too frustrated to explain himself. He unhooked his jeans, dragging them out until his cock sprung through his boxers.

Immediately he pressed the tip against your ass, rutting shamelessly as though you were a pillow. His teeth scraping the top of your head, hands gripping your breasts--pinching your nipples, still covered in his saliva.

His cock slid against the fabric. He knew you were wet. Could feel it leaking through. He fucked against you, rabid. Sweat budding at his forehead.

"Yes, yes, fuck yes" Without thinking he reached down to drag the fabric between your legs aside, coating himself with you. You winced but he could care less. He couldn't think straight. Everything was white with pleasure and red with need.

You were close. You skin so sweet as he kissed all over your neck. The pretty arch of your back as he slid his cock through your folds. Unrelenting.

"M'gonna cum" Jungkook mumbled, blinking back tears. His hips speeding up furiously, ignoring the bruising on your ass. He pressed your face against the wall, swallowing your lips as he spilled down your thighs.

You let out a long sigh. Glad for a moment of stillness.

"So are you gonna buy those jeans?"

Jungkook giggled, kissing you fondly.

"Only if you promise to sit on my lap whenever I do"

want more needy!koo smut? read the original or:

scenarios: when you get a crush | when he takes your virginity | if he got you pregnant | kink discovery: dacryphilia | when your tits ache and he helps

drabbles: tickle me there | touch yourself here | wanna touch you | soaked n’ slippery

a/n: this is for my tmw babies, because i keep you waiting for so long. hope you enjoy. thank you for reading <3 please let me know what you think!

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kenyummy · 8 months ago

Text

SYNOPSIS — falling in love with sae itoshi brings out a lot of different emotions within you. particularly misery, when, under the sparkling snow, he is leaving to grow up—to make all your dreams come true.

note: im so pissed off that i cant log into my other account but whatever guys hii i am bella !!! again!! this is intended to be an extension of my previous thingy on my first acc but this can be a standalone

You're not sure what you should do. You've been by Sae ever since you can remember—and now, only now, he was leaving. You haven't been alone for so long, and now you're going to be forced into it. You don't know what to feel.

You're pissed at Itoshi Sae—no matter how selfish it is of you—for leaving you like this. In love. Alone. Miserable. You're also pissed at yourself for being mad at him—because you know this is for the best, you know it's for his bright future as the star you always knew he was—but deep down, you wished he would stay, even if just for you.

Walking through this park with him by your side—the moon shines down and creates ripples in the sky's vast ocean, painting the world with a honey-like glow. It smooths over Sae's face like the moon itself is kissing him goodbye—like the world itself is miserable with his parting. You sure know you are.

Your hand is clutched tightly within his, and you don't ever want to let go of this warmth. Your stomach twists into knots, and you can't even savour this moment of affection because of how much you're dreading it. Him leaving for Spain—a place across the globe, so far you're not sure your phone will be able to handle a five-minute call without lighting on fire.

The silence might feel even worse than this sense of impending doom, actually. Neither of you said a word since school ended—a perk of knowing Sae Itoshi for so long, is that you can tell what he's thinking with just a glance.

People say that getting a read on Sae is hard.

You don't think so.

You just have to look for the little things.

You've always looked at him.

"I'm leaving for Spain soon," Sae says, shattering the quiet and his voice buzzes in your ears like static. Will you ever hear this voice again? You pray you do. "For Re Al."

You already know this. Why is he telling you again? Does he find it amusing to see you blink back hot, wet tears and sniffle like a baby?

"You're going to just be with Rin now." He pulls up his red scarf with his free hand, breathing out lowly through his mouth and causing a puff of smoke to escape his lips. It's beyond freezing out here, and you can feel your lips shake. Though, you're not as sure that it's from the cold, as it is from holding back sobs.

You know that you'll have Rin. You've known Rin as long as you've known Sae—but it won't be the same. You won't have late-night talks, or walks around the school when he isn't practising—nor will you even see him at practice. The only reason you became a manager for his team was so you could spend more time with him, and watch how incredible he was.

Now, what is there for you?

You hadn't realised when your life had become so dependent on his presence—perhaps it was the moment you had fallen in love with him, or maybe even that day you first met, ten years ago.

Your life is so enveloped by Sae, that the mere thought of him not being here sends tears welling up in your eyes.

You're pathetic.

You're pathetically, and miserably in love with him.

You grip his warm palm harder, snow fluttering around you. It's cold. He's your sense of warmth. You don't want to let go. "Sae..."

You're positive he can feel your grip tighten, and there's an undeniable wobble in your voice. Sae is too intuitive to not have picked up on this—but still, he does not mention it with a word. He lets you grip him as tight as you wish, and lets you dig your nails into the back of his hand. "Rin's going to be alone, and I want you to take care of him. Our parents don't get the whole football thing..."

He pauses, stopping in his tracks and by extension, stopping you too. He looks down at you, snow fluttering into his red head of hair—it takes everything within yourself to not reach up and swoop it out of the bright fire because you know it will burn your fingertips, "But I know you do. I ask only one other thing of you... Watch me become the best in the world."

Your heart speeds up. It beats so fast you fear it may go flying out of your chest. Your stomach does knots and you want to lean closer so bad your chest hurts. Fuck.

Sae... you're the worst in the world. I hate you.

You feel tears fall down your cheeks and you let out a muffled sob, wracked into your hands when you slap them over your face. You don't want him to see you like this—a mess without him holding you together like glue.

He wraps his arms around you, tugging you close and resting your head in the crook of his neck—buried in the red scarf—and you can only sob when he draws lazy circles on your back.

I hate you, Sae Itoshi.

You clench your fingers into the back of his shirt and clutch him tight, as if he may disappear within your grasp—and soon, he will.

I hate you more than anything in the world. You're the worst. You suck.

It takes a little longer for you to stop breaking down—you hiccup a little, and step away from his arms (as much as it kills you to do so) to wipe your eyes, curled lashes now completely fallen by now, from the wetness of your tears. Your eyes feel red, and you look like shit.

Still, Sae looks at you like you're the only thing in the world, and you can't help the hotness that falls over your face—despite the winter air that surrounds you.

I hate that you made me love you, stupid fucking Sae.

The silence that ensues between you both isn't as excruciating as before. It's nice. Almost comforting. You feel a little more willing to let him go.

"... Are you okay, now?"

There it is—the sense of concern laid in his tone and it all comes crashing back down to you again. This time—you do not cry like a baby, and you only swallow thickly and nod.

"... Yeah."

Your voice is quieter than you remember. Everything is different to how you remember. That's how it is, when you grow up.

Silence fills the space between the two of you once more. You're cold. Your fingernails are a pale purple and red dusts the apples of your cheeks (though, you're not too sure whether it's from said winter or the burning fire that stands in front of you).

He stares at you, almost uncomfortably quiet, for a little longer. If it were anyone else, they'd just think Sae was a little weirdo who doesn't know what to say. You are not anyone else. You know Sae is a little weirdo who doesn't know what to say—but you also know that he is considering something.

The furrow of his brows—the squinting of his eyes—it's all so vivid to you.

You want to empty out your stomach when he slowly removes that bright red scarf from around his neck. The pale skin on his face grows slightly redder with the loss of such a warmth the cotton brought. He does not look bothered by such a loss.

He brings his arms up, and wraps the red around you, instead. Instantly—it is second nature to you—your fingers dig into the material and you stare up at Sae with wide, bright eyes.

"... Sae..."

Your voice is still quiet, but it is almost seeming to sound hopeful. Hoping for what? You yourself are not too sure, either.

"I know this might be a lot for you, [name]." He begins to talk, with a lower tone than you've ever heard from him—like he's worried that, even in a snowy, empty park, somebody else will hear the words only meant for you. "But I'm doing this for us."

For... us...?

Your breathing picks up as his gloves hand places itself lightly on your cheek. "We're growing up, [name]. We aren't kids anymore. Your dreams—our dreams—they can become a reality, if only we try."

You've never heard Sae sound so assured in himself. Or maybe you have—but you've just never listened like you have now. He is so warm in front of you. Your heart beats so hard you think it may just go flying out of your chest.

"I promise I'll make all your dreams come true."

A small, harmless-sounding promise—it would've been so if it were anybody but Sae Itoshi. If it were anybody but the man you loved so dearly. If it were anybody but him—you would've thought so.

This is Sae Itoshi.

You place your hand over the back of his—where it rests on your face—and tilt your head into his touch. He looks pleased at this action, and leans in a little closer. His breath is warm, fanning onto your cold face.

"Sae..." You mumble, mouth shaking with every word. He is listening, intently. "We're going to be grown-ups soon, right? I... don't really want to grow up. It sounds so scary."

He doesn't say a word, so you continue. "But... if it's with you... then it won't be so bad, right?"

A snowflake flutters onto the tip of his nose and melts as soon as it makes contact with his cherry-kissed skin.

"Will you give me one last kiss... before we're all grown up?"

A soft whisper at only he could possibly hear—but it did not matter, because right now, the only two people that existed in the world were you and Sae Itoshi.

Your parents, his mother, Rin, his teammates—nobody else mattered in this moment, when Sae leaned in slowly and your lashes fluttered shut against your cheek. Nothing in this world mattered, except for Sae Itoshi, kissing you under a streetlamp that showered gold onto you like it were honey.

Your heart explodes in your chest and you've never felt more love than in this moment. You aren't too sure what kind of love, yet—but you have all the time in the world to learn.

The moonlight makes him look etheral, you think. The snow that has gathered atop his hair gives it a cool white sheen and you giggle as you brush it out of the blazing fire once more.

To grow up—you're willing to do so, so long as Sae Itoshi promises to make all of your dreams come true.

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shuaraes · 1 year ago

Text

i should’ve never let you go | x.mh

- To him, love can only mean you

oneshot | 2.5k | exes! au | angst | comfort

after laying out his raw heart for you on voicemail, one part of xu minghao never expects to hear from you again. this is until you text him back asking him to meet you for the first time in over a year. with your text, minghao knows he can’t let you slip away the way he did before.

sequel to we shouldn’t have ended like this

~ pairing . xu minghao x gn!reader

~ content . exes to lovers au!, non idol au!, minghao’s a lover boy, quite cheesy at the end, can be read as a standalone fic but some minor references won’t be picked up on

~ tw/cw . suggestive, mentions of alcohol, minghao’s a bit of a dick to everyone but his s/o

~ song rec . blue jeans - lana del rey

~ author’s note . here it is, the much requested pt.2 !! thank you all for loving pt.1 so much ~~

(taglist at the end)

THE PARK BENCH IS ICE AGAINST MINGHAO’S BLUE JEANS.

His hands are tightly clasped around a medium-sized bouquet, a pink bow ribbon tying everything together. Minghao doesn’t know the first thing about flowers, just knows that carnations are your favourites. Even though there’s a slight chill in the air, Minghao is dressed nicely; short-sleeved polo rolled up to show his arms. He thought he might as well make a decent effort: after all, he’s seeing you for the first time in a year.

Soulmates used to be a concept foreign to Minghao, so foreign when his friend Jun often blabbed on about finding his ‘one true love’ - he could only scoff. Then he thought about what love meant to him. Watching all his friends fall in and out of it faster than he could blink, love didn’t mean much. Yes, he had been ‘in love’ but it had never consumed him, never broken him apart to the point he questioned his purpose of living.

Until you whispered those three words into his ear (it was early morning and you were tangled in his sheets, the linen covering your bare upper body, your eyes were barely opened but your smile was so bright, your fingertips and kisses painted his neck like a canvas. He had never seen such an angelic sight) and it all finally clicked. If this was what love felt like, then he had loved you since he first saw you.

Being in love meant loving you. To him, now love can only mean you.

Honestly, Minghao wasn’t expecting a response from you. It was three am when he sent the voicemail and after so long with no contact, you had probably moved on and found someone else. Living your life without thinking about him, is a privilege Minghao could only wish for. You were in his dreams, in his walls, staring at him in his bathroom mirror.

Although he did miss you terribly, a part of him sent a message because he wanted closure. He wanted to know you didn’t want him anymore. Maybe with your deafening silence, he could move on - live a life with you (an empty promise to himself, like a single coin in a fountain). But you didn’t.

A week after that night, Minghao received a text from your number.

It was early afternoon and Minghao was only half occupied with the tasks of the day, his head everywhere but the present. After sending that voicemail, he couldn’t seem to focus. A string of ‘what ifs’ kept constantly replaying in his head like a strip of film. At a point, he even contemplated throwing away your slippers. But as he saw them by the heater neatly lined next up to his - something deep from within him forced his whole body to stop. He couldn’t, he just couldn’t. Throwing away your slippers would mean giving up on you. Quitting had not got Minghao very far in life.

A notification popped up when he was scrolling mindlessly that day - he was about to swipe up. But when he saw your contact name (it’s ‘sweetheart’, he hasn’t changed it since the day he told you he loved you, the contact name even outliving your relationship), his phone almost dropped out of his hand and onto his face.

Sweetheart: How much did you drink?

Minghao’s breath hitched in his throat. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you were a drunken mistake. That he wouldn’t have said what he said without the removed inhibitions from several bottles of wine. He meant every single word he said

Minghao: I’ve never been more sober in my life.

His fingers paused at his keyboard, wanting to say so much more. He wanted to tell you once again how he couldn’t live without you, how you were even more important to him than the oxygen that fills his lungs. But he settled with simple formalities instead.

Minghao: How are you?

Sweetheart: Stop pretending that you care.

Minghao could feel his entire heart shatter in his chest, had you not listened to the voicemail or even worse did you not believe him? Did you not believe his love for you? Again, you were slipping away from him right in front of his eyes, he couldn’t let you go.

Minghao: Everything I said in that voicemail was true. I care about you more than I care for myself.

Sweetheart: Meet me in the park at 2pm and prove it then.

That’s how Minghao finds himself in his local park. Coincidentally, where you both had your first date (now several years ago, he placed a pink carnation behind your ear and when he looked into your eyes, he knew you were going to be different from the others). His heart is threatening to fall out of his chest with the way it’s beating so fast. What is he supposed to say to you? What apology on earth can he give you to make up for his past actions?

The past is in the past but Minghao needs you in his future.

As if you were the grand prize in this game we call life, Minghao is a debtor using up his final pennies. He can’t afford to lose you. The universe doesn’t grant second chances easily and Minghao wasn’t a fool to let you go again.

Your relationship was the furthest thing from perfect, but your flaws matched each other in a way Minghao could never fully grasp. End pieces in a jigsaw, rose quartz and serenity in an evening sky, the rays of the sun and the glow of the moon. You were far from perfect but you were more than close enough for Minghao. He was obsessed with you and still is.

He hears the light patter of feet against the cobbled pavement. The sound gets louder and louder until it stops. Minghao looks up from his fiddling fingers, expecting it to be some dog walker whose pet doesn’t understand the concept of personal space. But then he feels a familiar tap on his shoulder, there’s only one person in this world whose touch is as light as a feather.

When he sees you, his whole world ceases to exist. It is only you that remains. For a year he wanted, craved for this moment. You were his messiah, all he wanted to do was worship you until his throat was hoarse and lips parched. He was thirsty, oh so thirsty. Only you could save him, only you could fix him. He quickly stands up to look at you. He thinks if you touch him his legs would give in and he would fall to the floor. Your presence is overwhelming, you’re taking over his sensing and clouding his thoughts.

All of his words are caught in the base of his throat, there is so much he wants to tell you - but as he tries to speak only silence escapes from his parted pink lips.

You look slightly different, something Minghao couldn’t quite put his finger on. In front of him, you are a paradigm of blues, yellows and reds: the centrepiece in an art gallery, Micheal Angelo’s greatest creation.

“These are for me?” You ask cautiously, breaking the seemingly infinite silence.

You were so surprised to hear from him after you had assumed he had fallen out of love with you months ago. You want to make sure, that you haven’t gone mad, that the love of your life is really standing in front of you.

“Of course they are,” He hands you the flowers and watches your face light up when you realise that he remembered.

“You remembered…” You say smiling, looking down and twirling the pink stain ribbon between your fingers. ‘Of course’ Minghao thinks - of course, he’d never forget. He wants to reply but he’s too captivated with your beauty to think straight.

Still lost in thought, you continue, “Where did all the time go… Back then we were so young, so naive, so… So…” You struggle to find the right words to say.

“So stupid.” Minghao’s words are breathless as you meet his ever-so-loving gaze. For the whole of your relationship, Minghao had never been the one to open up to faults - you as well. The feeling of being so naked and vulnerable is foreign to him. But he relishes in the freedom of the truth, his pride no longer holding him down in chains.

He thinks he loves you more than anyone in human history has loved before.

“I meant everything, I said in that voicemail. You were right ‘We shouldn’t have ended like this’, yet I let it happen. I made you doubt my love but to protect my pride, I just stood there, saying nothing. I thought you grew fed up with our relationship, that I wasn't what you wanted. But then I realised you were pushing me away to protect yourself, just like I did.” Minghao pauses getting slightly emotional.

“Nothing I say or do will ever be enough, I can’t turn back time I know that.

But I never stopped loving you.”

And before he can comprehend, you’re in his arms, head against his chest - your home (his heart). You drop the flowers in your right hand and Minghao circles himself around you, engulfing you in his embrace. You don’t say anything, yet a thousand words fall from your parted lips as you stare into his pools of brown (the same pools you could spread hours, days drowning in, as if fresh air didn’t exist). You smell exactly like he remembered, a mix of woods and flora. You feel like a cup of warm tea after a tiresome day, the silver lining he always looks towards. Minghao thinks there’s nothing in the world as beautiful as you.

“I should’ve never let you go…” The words tumbling out of his lips are a waterfall of emotion. Waves of relief rush over him as he feels himself around you. This is where he is supposed to be. Suddenly, everything in his life is going to be okay.

“I should have never tried to push you away in the first place ” Your hands reach up to stroke the back of his hair and he melts into your touch like butter.

This is where he belongs.

Minghao places a small kiss on the mole you have on your collarbone and it’s almost like the past year didn’t happen (you’re on a date in the city, you’re wearing his favourite dress which shows your shoulders and no matter how hard he tries, Minghao can’t keep his hands off you, pecking and nibbling at the soft skin, even if he didn’t say it much, he was enamoured with you). Minghao doesn’t notice the lingering eyes of passers-by, he even fails to realise the passage of time.

Sadly the world can’t stop for him, no matter how much it feels like it does.

With a loud honk from a car speeding down the other side of the road resonating through his eardrums, Minghao is brought back to reality. Suddenly the light weight in the back of his jeans pocket feels all too heavy and he starts to panic, pushing you away gently. You pout, feeling like you have the wrong idea and Minghao’s expression is immediately sympathetic.

“No baby, don’t worry you did nothing wrong.” He coos in a tone that had almost become foreign to him.

Never, has he used this tone with any of his hookups, even when they begged to be called sweet names, he couldn’t (looking back on this Minghao feels guilty, but those people weren’t you, they couldn’t ever be you). He’s surprised at how easily those words drift off his tongue after so long. He guesses everything just comes easier with you.

“Remember how I said, we’ll listen to your favourite jazz album while drunk on wine.” He scratches his neck bashfully as you look up to him with wide eyes.

“I may or may not have booked us two tickets to their live show in the area, I just wanted to do something again to show that I care. I know it wouldn’t make up for-"

You silence him with a kiss, and Minghao forgets where he is, what he had just said, the colour of the sky and the feeling of the ground below his feet. hell if you didn't whisper ‘It’s okay Minghao' against his lips, he would have forgotten his own name.

For Minghao, it’s you. It has always been you and it will continue to be you. Maybe until the day he dies, he thinks. But knowing himself, he would probably find a way to love you in the afterlife as well.

You drag Minghao by his arm into his dimly lit flat, lips still perfectly intertwined together like a lock and key. If your kisses are knife wounds, Minghao wouldn’t mind bleeding to death. He can taste the tart fermented grapes on your tongue. The feeling of his bare skin against yours is more intoxicating than the bottle of wine you shared. You mewl pitifully into his mouth, clutching his clothes like a beggar desperate for cash. The sight of you begging for him was probably on par with the sex itself.

The night wasn’t supposed to end like this. Minghao had planned it out perfectly: you were supposed to visit a jazz show featuring your favourite ensemble, then you’d have dinner at a place he’d been meaning to take you for months, then maybe after a glass of red (or two) a taxi would drop you off at your complex where he would kiss you on the check and tell you to sleep well.

You both barely made it to step two.

Minghao pulls you flush against his chest breaking the kiss for air - you don’t seem to care as you turn your attention to his neck. In the morning, Minghao expects to see dots of red-purple bruises lined across the pale skin of his neck like patches of watercolour. The night wasn’t supposed to end like this, but Minghao doesn’t have the strength in him to tell you to stop.

“I wanted to be a gentleman.” He manages to whisper out, his eyes squeezing shut as you move your hands and kisses downwards, “I don’t want you just for your body, you know.”

“I know. I just missed you so much it was driving me crazy.” You say and drag him by the collar. You’re not looking where you’re going, but Minghao trusts you know his place better than you know your own.

Before he can respond, he feels you jerk slightly, almost tripping over your feet. He looks down to watch what caused it and he feels his face light up like a pink neon sign downtown.

“You still have my slippers here.” You say, not like you’re inquiring, but more like a statement. The smile on your face is miles wide when you look up at him. Minghao knows exactly what you’re thinking and because of it, he’s the happiest man who has ever lived.

“I didn’t have the heart to get rid of them, I never wanted to let you go in the first place."

taglist - @minhui896 @luvhuihui @porridgesblog @bangantokchy @haocovr @icyminghao

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silentcryracha · 5 months ago

Text

❍ ‗ Making art with Hyunjin ‗ ❍

Pairing : Hyunjin x f reader

Summary : chapter four of a cute standalone miniseries. It's what it says in the title

Genre/ Warnings : scenario/imagine/headcanon, drabble, fluff, suggestive but no smut, unserious but helpful Hyunjin, it's cute idk

Word count : 635 words

A/n : none

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

series masterpost

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Hyunjin loves art, yes, but he loves you more. Don't even try to not make things about you if you're around because you'll be unsuccessful.

"Okay mr. Picasso draw an apple for me"

Five minutes later he'd be handing you the sketchbook, a pencil sketch picturing YOU holding an apple.

"This is ridiculous" you whisper, lowkey speechless. Hyunjin would pout, looking genuinely sad for a moment.

"You don't like it?" and of course you'd throw yourself at him covering him with kisses and praises all over his face.

He's just extra talented and in love! It's not his fault!

He'd be so happy to either learn from you or teach you, if you asked. Like oh my gosh imagine if he had an actual artist as a partner? He'd be so in awe and interested in each and every step of the process.

He would a hundred percent ask you to teach him, whatever the technique. He'd just be so excited to spend time with you regardless <3

Same thing if the roles were reversed and he was the teacher! He'd be very honored if asked him to teach you, probably because even though he's crazy good he wouldn't consider himself a professional artist.

You'd just end you having so much fun together. I feel like Hyunjin would shower you with praises and encouragement.

"That looks so good already, baby."

"It's...missing an arm and hair"

And he'd just respond "It's his business not yours" in the cutest most unserious tone.

"Hyune, come here a sec" you call out and whatever he was doing, he'd walk over.

"I don't think the sketch is bad but something is off. Is it the colors?" he listens, giving you a sweet kiss on the head, then focusing on the painting.

"I think the purple is a bit bright, try adding some black. I know you usually shouldn't but I don't think it's a drop is gonna hurt." he answers softly, picking up the acrylic and then mixing.

He picks up the brush and skillfully covers up the previous color, smiling to himself in satisfaction afterwards.

"See? Now the palette is more balanced." he gives you another kiss because, well yes.

"Yes it does! Colors do make such a difference. Thank you, honey"

It doesn't always need to be a learning experience though! Sometimes you just want to have a laugh or make a mess and then then make out covered in paint like it's not that serious.

It would happen specifically when someone got stressed working on a piece, and maybe it just sucked and wanted to throw it away, so might as well transform it into a whole abstract piece and get a laugh out of it. Mood lifted!

You and Hyunjin were just chilling, sitting together on the couch late at night, a whole storm outside. He turns to you, saying:

"Do you want to play a game?" you look up at him.

"Okay, Jigsaw. What were you thinking?"

He stands up, walking around the living room to pick up two sketchbooks, some pencils and spare pastels. Then comes back to hand you one.

"We pick something in the room -in our line of view- to draw, then we each have three chances to guess it right." you bite your lip, smiling.

"Okay. And what if we don't guess right?" he shrugs, a smirk struggling not to appear on his plump lips.

"Then one piece of clothing, of choice, comes off." he replies, "Each. time." you pout, feigning innocence.

"But...it's quite cold. Will we not be cold?"

"Well then let's hope we lose fast, so we can warm each other up." he winks and you giggle like an idiot, because of course that's where he was going.

"Bet"

And the rest is history <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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wuxian-vs-wangji · 2 months ago

Text

When All the Work is Finished (Part 2: PrapaiSky)

Summary: What's the best way to unwind after weeks of hard work? Rain and Sky skip the monthly races to finish some homework, but when Prapai and Payu go back to their respective homes, they find something very unexpected.

* While this is a "Part 2", it is wholly standalone from Part 1 Part 1 (PayuRain)

For my fanfic library, visit @rhysand-vs-fenrys-vs-writing.

To read on Archive of Our Own, click here

Part 2: PrapaiSky

This chapter references some canon from the LITA Special Novel (where Prapai travels to Germany for work and has a phone sex session with Sky), and leans in to the language used in that as well as the Love Sky novel, where Prapai is often referred to as "young man" and Sky as "boy".

Something was off with Rain.

He was quieter than usual, more withdrawn. When Sky showed up at Payu’s house to pick him up, his mind seemed to be elsewhere. They sat at a café to go over their year-end projects and share ideas, but Rain was distracted. And he made Sky sit with his back to the street, as if he were nervous about something.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to guess?” Sky sighed.

“Nothing,” Rain said quickly. “What type of roof should I go with for the abandoned building redevelopment projects? I was assigned the library, so I was thinking-”

His words died out as Sky raised an eyebrow.

“Sky, it’s nothing… Don’t-”

Sky turned around and stared out the window of the café. He scanned the first floor of the shops along the street, then looked up at the second, third levels. A bit further down the block was a sign advertising the opening of…

Sigh.

“Rain, come on. Let’s go.”

“No!” Rain tried to snatch Sky’s wrist as his friend stood up and finished the last swallow of his tea. He scrambled after Sky, increasingly embarrassed and desperate. “Sky, I can look online, I don’t want to go!”

“Yes, you do.” Sky ignored him and glanced both ways before crossing the street. He walked towards the sign with purpose, though… he honestly had no idea what to expect.

“SKY, STOP.”

“Nope.”

Sky led the way upstairs to the second floor of the building and past another sign advertising the opening of… a sex toy shop.

After Rain found out about Sky’s past, there were certain topics he was very careful to avoid. Sky had been honest with him, as he was with Prapai, and told his best friend everything he felt strong enough to say. Including that his ex would force him using toys.

Apparently, Rain took that to mean that sex toys were a wholly forbidden topic.

“Have you been buying lube from a regular store all this time?” Sky asked with a snort.

Rain nodded.

“How boring.”

Honestly, Sky only ever bought it from a regular store too, but Rain looked like he was about to bolt the opposite direction, so he deliberately misled his friend. Sky wasn’t sure what might happen if he walked inside the store, truth be told. He didn’t know if the sight of some toys might bring back bad memories.

But he refused to be afraid of what might happen. Besides…

‘You will never see either of them again in this lifetime. We failed to secure the venue properly that night. The matter has been settled, with Mr. Pakin’s personal apology.’

The first race Sky attended after everything happened, Prapai left Sky under the hawkish gaze of Payu and Rain. Sky felt like he could barely breathe without the two monitoring him, and their attention only eased when Chai appeared.

A guard asked Payu a question, Rain was distracted, and Chai said those words just loudly enough for Sky- and Sky alone- to hear.

Sky’s memories of that particular race were fractured at best, but he knew Prapai made a deal with Chai and Pakin. He knew what was promised, and what that promise meant. He also knew the implication of Chai’s words- the matter was settled with Pakin’s apology.

It meant… Prapai would owe them no debt.

That was the first race Sky or Prapai attended in three months. For three months, Prapai was never called on to race and uphold his end of a deal. So releasing him without a penny paid, it was beyond generous.

‘Thank you.’

That was all Sky said back, and he meant it. He thought it should probably bother him more to know that someone died, even if it was those two assholes. But… it was liberating somehow. He didn’t feel as anxious. Between that and the warmth Prapai drowned him in each and every day, Sky was finally able to put a glass wall between himself and the past.

He never forgot, he never shoved those memories down the way he had before, but they couldn’t reach him. The nightmares were rare, and Prapai was close.

So… he went with Rain through the opaque door and into the shop.

“Welcome,” the person behind the counter was neither male nor female, but they were painfully beautiful. They were perhaps around Prapai’s age, maybe a little older, and had long, loose black linen pants with a white halter that showed off a well-toned body. Their narrow face and big eyes were accented by the silver web of chain that sat upon their completely shaved and smooth head.

Sky always imagined a toy shop as being dark and dirty, the people working there no different from his ex in terms of appearance… But they had a reassuring face, honest and open and friendly. The shop itself was brightly lit and smelled of lavender. It was perfectly clean, the only mystique being in the high shelves that were angled in ways to make it difficult to see anyone who might be shopping unless they were at the wide, spacious counter.

Rain and Sky both bowed their heads in a quick greeting. Rain’s ears were bright red, and Sky thought his might be the same. It was no different an atmosphere than he expected to find at any regular shop, and so completely different from what he’d imagined. It was almost jarring to spy a large display of dildos in every size and color imaginable down a far aisle.

“Picking up,” someone came in behind them, and Sky herded Rain down a random aisle to give the man some privacy. Well… ‘man’ made him sound older than he was. He was big with broad shoulders and a mischievous smirk, but on second glance, he couldn’t have been older than Rain and Sky. Or if he was, it could only be a year difference at most.

The man was handsome enough, in a rough and wild way, and seemed somewhat out of place in the city. His long shorts and the print shirt open over a white tank top looked more suited to a beach.

Sky couldn’t help the voice in his head that pointed out Prapai was bigger, broader, and more handsome. He missed his lover so badly that he couldn’t help but compare every man he saw to the obnoxious giant… the one he’d do anything to hold.

“Here you go,” the person at the counter immediately fetched a nondescript brown bag and handed it over. “And Mut, please tell Mr. Tongrak that my husband and I both appreciate him allowing us to open this shop here.”

Sky tuned out the conversation as the man chatted with the person behind the counter, trying to focus instead on what was in front of him.

“There are… this many kinds?” Rain whispered, eyes wide.

The aisle had dozens of types of lube. So much that Sky felt immediately overwhelmed. There were so many options- too many options. And why did some bottles look the same, but were in entirely different places?

“Maybe we should… start somewhere else.” Sky said.

Rain immediately walked to the end of the aisle furthest from the door and was about to head for the next one when he suddenly turned around and herded Sky in the opposite direction, “We can look here first.”

“Let me see,” Sky dodged Rain’s arm and went to look at what Rain wanted to hide.

This wall was broken by a door, one that was currently wide open. Signs outside the door advertised ‘intimate’ piercings, and a young Thai man was walking out with a tall and well built foreigner, a silver hoop through each of the young man’s bright-red nipples visible as the foreigner helped gently pull down an oversized shirt. The younger clearly was the one to get the piercings, but the older man seemed to be the one in the most pain.

“Sky-”

“I’m okay,” Sky said, and… he genuinely meant it. Rain knew nothing about the circumstances of his piercings, only that when he, Payu, and Prapai arrived at the condo that night, Sky had two rings in his chest.

“I didn’t have it done professionally,” Sky said after a moment, watching the big man fussing over his younger boyfriend. “I wanted them at the time, but it hurt a lot more than it would have in a place like this. And they took a long time to heal. You think it’s like these,” he touched one of his earrings, “but it isn’t. It took about seven months for me. But… he didn’t give it time to heal, either. If it had time, maybe it would be faster.”

His ex would yank at the rings, even when the piercings were fresh and at their most painful.

“You’d probably like having them,” Sky offered, turning to Rain. “Once they’re healed, it’s really not much different from earrings.”

Sky wandered down the next aisle, leaving the sight of the couple behind.

“I asked P’Payu about it once,” Rain said, a bit unsettled by Sky’s words but willing to go along with the conversation. “He said he doesn’t mind either way if I get them or not, but if it takes that long to heal, he might have an opinion.”

“If I had them done now- if I didn’t have them before, I mean, I think it would send P’Pai into a depression,” Sky chuckled. The thought of Prapai having to avoid his nipples for any amount of time brought a genuine smile to Sky’s lips.

He’d felt a little dizzy after what he said to Rain, the small piece of his past he offered up, but picturing Prapai hearing that Sky’s nipples were off limits for months on end helped chase that away.

The young man who’d had his chest pierced had looked relieved, anxious, and happy. He was cute, definitely the same age as both Rain and Sky, and the piercings suited his form. Sky hoped it healed quickly and he enjoyed having them. His companion would no doubt pamper and fuss over them until they were healed.

Both boys felt a bit braver as they wandered the second aisle. There were signs here and there advising people to speak to the staff if they had any questions or wanted recommendations. The person at the counter never left their post, unless someone called from the depths of the store. No pressure, no one hovering, no embarrassment.

Still, it felt a bit awkward to browse sex toys with Rain, so Sky left him in an aisle filled with various light restraints and wandered to the back on his own. The further he went, the more imposing the toys became. Collars with nipple clamps attached- including one that looked too much like what Sky had been made to wear at one point. The long, thin bits of silicone that could be slid into the opening of his most sensitive part to elicit some of the worst pain- or most shameful pleasure.

And still, he felt nothing. The memories had no power over him at all. Not so long as he pictured Prapai’s face.

The absence of fear made Sky feel stronger, and he found himself wandering through aisles of vibrators and cock rings with a smile on his face. He even started to wonder if he should maybe find something for when Prapai came home. What kind of welcome would he least expect to receive?

He grabbed a small box off of a shelf and eyed it for a long time, then worked up the courage to enter several aisles of fine lingerie. Prapai had made enough little comments here and there that Sky started to form a bit of a plan at least. He crossed back and forth between different sections, mixing and matching and changing his mind until the concept became a bit clearer.

And then on the back wall he saw…

It would be more expensive than he normally felt comfortable with. Sky had money, he filled his time while Prapai was gone tutoring here and there, and since the condo was taken care of- and Prapai still sent him food even from overseas- he had plenty to cover the cost…

Sky took a tag from the wall below what he was eyeing, then a couple more, changed his mind on the lingerie at least four more times, and then made his way to the front. He could feel the small smile tugging at his lips as he pictured the scene he would set, and the reaction it was sure to get.

“Would you like anything else?” the person behind the counter scanned the tags Sky brought up before starting on the other things he grabbed.

Sky was feeling brave, so he said, “The l- the lube section. I don’t- there are a lot.”

“There are,” they nodded. “It’s a bit overwhelming, right?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

They came out from behind the counter and walked with him to the aisle. “So, first, allergies?”

“No.”

“Is this for you to only use yourself, or-”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“Do you two use condoms?”

“N- not anymore. We’ve both been tested, it’s alright-” he suddenly felt flustered. The hospital had done a blood test after he was attacked in High School. From that point, the only other man he slept with was Prapai, who wore a condom. Sky asked Prapai to take him for another blood test after the second attack, and Prapai got one too while they were there. Though, Prapai swore he had a blood test done when he decided to pursue Sky anyway.

“I only asked because it can impact the type of lube you get. You’re both very smart for getting tested. What kind of toys do you use, beyond what you’re getting today?” They scanned the section, adjusting some boxes to return them to the right spot or pull displays forward. Not directly looking at Sky, giving the shy boy a bit of space to answer.

“We don’t have any others,” Sky admitted.

They turned back with a smile, “Then it’s easy. You can get just about anything- that toy you picked comes in all material options, so if there was something you liked, it’d be simple to swap. With lube you have to match the type to the material of the condom or toy- never forget that. The section is divided-” they pointed to strips of black on the shelf that did indeed split the lube section into three parts.

“We only use regular stuff,” Sky scanned the shelves and found the type he and Prapai kept on hand. It was the most common, never sold out, carried in almost every shop near the condoms.

“Can I ask a few very personal questions?” they said, “Or would you like to stick with what you’re familiar with?”

“It’s fine,” Sky didn’t really feel comfortable talking about his sex life with Prapai, but he wanted to surprise him, and he needed help.

“Oral- do you or he ever eat the lube?”

“Y-yes.” Sky could feel his ears burning.

“Are either of you going for particularly intense or frequent climaxes?”

“He- I usually… more… He…” Sky’s courage vanished entirely.

“He likes to get you off more often?” they asked without a hint of judgement.

Sky’s ears were burning red as he nodded.

“So, these are our flavored lubes on this row,” they indicated an eye-level shelf. It was mostly the same flavors in each type of lube, with a few differences here and there. “The ones on this shelf down here will increase or decrease sensitivity, if you want to make it easier or harder for him. We only carry heavily tested and reputable brands, everything here is safe,” they pointed to another set of shelves. “If you put them on him directly, it can make it easier or harder for him to climax too.” They stepped back, “If you want any flavor samples, just ask. We keep little individual taste test samples at the front counter. With the toy you picked out, these two sections are your best options, but again, if you want something from a different shelf, we can swap the toy for the same thing, same price, different material.”

With that, they left Sky alone to make his decision.

Once he knew the pattern to the section, it was a bit less overwhelming. Though, there were still too many choices. Did he want to make it harder for Prapai to cum? Or make it harder for his body to resist it? Or did he want something flavored?

Nervous, Sky picked a bottle of slightly flavored lube. It was supposed to be floral in some way, which seemed odd, but the food flavored ones… Sky didn’t particularly want his hole to smell like strawberries or coconut.

“Would you like a sample?” they asked as they scanned his purchase.

“Y-yes please,” Sky was stammering again.

He thought they might have a bottle behind the counter or something, but they only reached down and handed him a small packet no bigger than the pad of his thumb. It had a miniature of the logo on the bottle.

Sky tore the corner and shyly brought it to his mouth. There were only a few drops inside, but it was enough to taste. The faint rose flavor wasn’t overpowering like he expected. It was… kind of nice. He wasn’t sure if Prapai would like it, but he didn’t mind the taste.

“Like it?”

“I think so,” Sky smiled a bit and deposited the empty packet in a small trash holder on the counter.

“This types will work with the toy you brought up, so if you want to try others, just stick to the same material and section of lube, okay?” They put the box he’d taken from the shelf into the bag with the lube.

“Okay. Thank you for your help.”

“You are welcome,” they flashed a bright grin. “The tagged items will take a couple weeks to get in, is that alright?”

“Yes, that’s fine.” Sky was handed an invoice for those. He wrote his cell phone number and other information on the line, then paid.

Then Rain came up…

With what looked like half the store in his arms.

“Tagged items take two weeks, is that alright?” The person behind the counter blinked a few times at the pile Rain deposited, but hid their surprise very quickly.

“That’s okay. Can I store it at your house, Sky? P’Payu is really busy with work the next few weeks, and we’ll have finals… I think I want to surprise him with this after the next party!” Rain used their code word for Pakin’s races.

The day Prapai returned home. Sky was closely counting down to it- he even put an app on his phone that displayed the time until Prapai’s plane would land. If there were no delays.

“I can ring this up now and hold it here until your order comes in,” the person behind the counter offered. “This-” they indicated a long dildo that made Sky’s eyes go wide, “-is a display model, we sold out the next two shipments already, but we’ll have more in around three weeks. I can put a reservation in for one of them if you’d like?”

“Three weeks is perfect!” Rain said quickly. “What day?”

“We usually get shipments in on Thursday evenings, at the latest, Friday morning.”

“Perfect!” Rain said again.

Sky stared at the pile of restraints, clamps, gags, and lube as the person behind the counter began scanning everything.

He’d never asked about Rain and Payu’s sex life, but seeing everything Rain was buying…

Suddenly, Sky felt like the inexperienced one of the two.

---

Three weeks later

---

Prapai’s day was taking way too long to live through.

First, he was delayed in Germany for several hours by storms, so by the time the fourteen-hour flight landed, he’d already been awake for an entire day. He tried to sleep on the flight, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. Every mile the plane flew was a mile closer to Sky.

He was picked up at the airport by Chai, who brought him straight to Pakin’s legal racetrack. The law-abiding half of Pakin’s empire was courting investors from London, and Prapai was the shiny toy he handed over for them to play with in the form of a motorcycle racing lesson.

Prapai helped the six men gear up, taught them how to handle the lower-grade superbikes Payu’s garage had sent, and spent hours riding 1:1 races. He won each of them, of course, but only by small margins. Enough to make it believable- compared to these men, Prapai was a professional after all- yet allow them some room to brag.

When he first agreed to this, he assumed he would have slept on the plane and had a few hours at home to unwind while Sky was in class. Not that he’d be whisked away by Chai the moment he stepped off, or that he would be running on an empty tank from the start.

Prapai bid his farewells in late afternoon, and Chai took him over to Payu’s garage. Prapai didn’t come empty-handed- Payu spent three months babying his beloved bike, so the least Prapai could do was bring food (and a couple bottles of very expensive German whiskey).

“Clothes,” Saifah tossed some jeans and a t-shirt at Payu’s face as Prapai walked in. “Rain’s car is having issues. I’ll have it towed over tomorrow and take a look.”

Payu made a face and whipped out his phone to text his small boyfriend.

“Hey-” a moment later, Payu held up his phone to show Prapai a picture Rain had sent. The main focus was Rain’s own model, but he could see Sky on the other half of the frame.

Just the sight of him, brow furrowed in concentration, was enough to make Prapai’s heart ache.

“They almost done?” He could never tell, but Payu had done all the same projects before. If Sky’s work ran long and he didn’t get to hold him tonight, Prapai might very well show up at his professor’s house with a bag of money and bribe him to change the deadline.

His need for Sky was beyond physical after months apart.

“If they rush… Maybe four hours,” Payu looked the picture over with a practiced eye. “But if they go a comfortable pace, they’ll be done around the time the race starts.”

Prapai pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Sky.

[Finish quickly and go take a nap. I’ll lick you awake when I get home.]

Whatever text Payu received from Rain, he abandoned the table immediately and rushed to the bathroom.

Saifah slid a bowl of food in front of Prapai and he was about to take his first real bite of Thai food in three months when his own phone chimed- a picture from Sky of just one perfect nipple.

“God damn!” Prapai slammed his bowl down onto the table and overturned his chair getting up. Payu was in the main floor bathroom, so Prapai stormed up to the one in the small apartment overlooking the garage.

“Wash your hands when you’re done, perverts!” Saifah yelled loudly enough for both men to hear.

---

Sky waited for Prapai to come home, impatient and anxious.

It had nothing to do with what he’d bought at the store, it had nothing to do with the sex at all.

Three months. They’d been apart for three months. Sure, they chatted most days, sent messages, and arranged video chats when the loneliness became too strong-including one time when Prapai called to watch Sky finger himself- but still, three months.

Prapai was nearby all night, or at least he was in the same city. He had to race, he’d promised Pakin he would be there months ago, but Sky wanted him home. He wanted to hear Prapai’s heartbeat and feel their skin pressed against each other. To hear his voice in person, not through a phone.

Sky didn’t have to use his excuse to avoid the race. He and Rain took pictures while they worked on their projects furiously the week before, but that was always more for Rain’s benefit. Prapai was the one who asked Sky not to come, if only because he really did need to race. It wasn’t idle flirting when he said that if Sky were there, he’d drag him into one of the bike trailers and stay there all night.

Sky might even be the one doing the dragging.

But as the night turned towards dawn, Sky was growing more and more impatient. He prepared his surprise hours early, and kept adjusting and perfecting teeny details. At one point, he caught himself combing the bed for individual specks of lint.

Prapai’s text that the race had ended and he was on his way home only made Sky’s condition worse. He was angry with time for not passing at a normal speed, and began pacing the condo furiously until he remembered the display he wanted Prapai to come in to.

Sky heard a faint sound from the hallway outside of their front door and bolted for the bedroom, his heart that had been racing all day now hammering in his chest. He closed the door and practically pounced on the bed, quickly adjusting himself.

That happened only five minutes after Prapai sent the message, and was probably just the condo’s night guard doing his usual rounds.

Sky was going insane.

---

While Prapai was entertaining Pakin’s guests at the race track, Chai dropped his luggage off with the receptionist at the condo. After the night’s races were finished, there was only one thing Prapai wanted more than to just ride straight off the end of the track and speed all the way home to his Sky:

A shower.

Even though his office was on the way home, it was a kind of torture for Prapai to steer his bike to the underground garage and run into the elevator.

The need to be with Sky had long since turned into a steady ache in his chest, but now his heart was burning. Still, Prapai had very specific plans for what would happen the moment he saw Sky again, and it involved licking every inch of his body- and being licked in turn.

But he had been racing for a combined six hours that day, plus the fourteen-hour flight from Germany and everything in between.

Because he loved Sky, he wouldn’t resist pouncing the moment he entered his apartment. But also because he loved Sky, he wouldn’t subject him to the layers of sweat and general grime that covered his body.

There was a bathroom with a shower in the executive offices, and when his flight was delayed, Prapai had called ahead to have Plerng drop off a change of clothes and some toiletries on his desk. Prapai didn’t even care if the water was hot or cold when he turned on the shower, he only cared about how efficiently he could scrub every inch of his body, and how fast he could get back down to his bike.

In all, sixteen minutes from the moment he left his bike to the moment he returned.

Prapai slammed the helmet onto his wet hair and started up the bike, barely taking the time to check the road as he raced out of the garage and turned home. The pain in his chest eased the second he could see his condo building peeking out between two towers.

“Mr. Prapai, Mr. Panachai dropped off your luggage. Just a moment.” The guard who monitored the garage entrance immediately produced a key to the storage room and reappeared with his suitcases within seconds.

It took everything in him to politely wait for the bags to be passed into his care, sign the slip attesting that he collected them personally, and walk to the elevator. Well, he didn’t exactly walk.

Was the elevator always so slow?

Was the hallway always so long?

Prapai breathed in the familiar scent of the building and felt the stress and exhaustion slowly melting away. Once he was in his home and had his head buried in Sky’s neck, everything would be right in the world. All he needed was to feel Sky’s heartbeat and smell his hair.

Why am I shaking?

His hands were starting to tremble as he reached the door and put the key into the lock. It became hard to breathe all of a sudden, and he felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest.

Prapai opened the door.

The apartment was empty, dark, and quiet, but that was never where he was going to find Sky. Prapai shoved his bags in the direction of the large kitchen near the door and kicked his shoes off. He walked quickly towards the closed bedroom door, his mouth watering at the warm light sneaking through the edges.

Sky was awake, and waiting for him.

Prapai already felt himself hardening as he opened the door.

…

He died.

He must have died.

It- it wasn’t fair. Sky would have been waiting all day, excited to see him, and Prapai must have died the moment he opened the door.

Because if he didn’t die, the sight in front of him made no sense. If it wasn’t heaven, then he was hallucinating.

Sky was sitting on top of the bed. His legs were each folded to one side, his arms straight down, looking like some shy little creature with a slight pout on those perfect pink lips that Prapai wanted to devour.

If it was just that, Prapai could accept that he still had a heartbeat.

Sky was wearing Prapai’s favorite red leather racing jacket hanging off his narrow shoulders, but it was far too big for his slender frame. The sleeves covered most of his hands, leaving only the tips of his fingers to poke out.

If it was just that, Prapai could believe that he was alive.

But Sky had on-

Sky had on-

Prapai wasn’t even breathing as his brain struggled to process what it was seeing.

Beneath the red jacket, left open at the front, Sky was wearing…

He was wearing…

Spots flickered in his vision, and Prapai felt a very real pain in his chest. He forced himself to breathe.

Beneath the red leather jacket, there was a sheer lace halter that was barely large enough to cover his nipples, not that it was meant to. The lace was parted at the center of each triangle to expose those perfect little pink rises for Prapai to bite and kiss without impediment.

Sky slowly raised himself off the bed, biting his lower lip in a way that winded Prapai once again. He forced his eyes to travel down. To see the matching black lace panties that were little more than whispers of fabric that pinned his already-hard member against his stomach, the tip sticking out the top and already smearing a clear liquid against his belly as it dripped.

He groaned at the sight, a long, low, hungry sound.

“P’Pai,” Sky whispered with a trembling voice, “Do you like it?”

Prapai found his legs for a moment. In just a few long strides, he crossed the room and slid onto the bed, wrapping his arms around Sky to pull him in close and tight. Sky grabbed on to Prapai and matched his desperation. He opened his mouth to receive the kiss that was not hungry or demanding, but gentle. Prapai’s tongue probed into his mouth, and he groaned in approval as Sky’s tongue danced against his.

Prapai broke the kiss for air here and there, but never for long. His mouth latched on to Sky’s, and he breathed fiercely through his nose, filling his mind with Sky’s smell. More perfect than he remembered, the true and complete smell of home.

“I missed you,” Prapai released Sky at long last to burrow his face into Sky’s neck. He didn’t bite or kiss, he just rested, wrapped in Sky’s arms.

“I missed you too, so much,” Sky whispered against his ear. He nuzzled into Prapai’s head, breathing in the freshly washed hair. The smell and taste and touch of Prapai home after so long.

Prapai held Sky for a long time, it was the only thing his brain could even consider doing right at that moment. He certainly had plans for that body- and the provoking outfit- but first… he needed to hold and smell and feel Sky. His perfect Sky.

“Do everything exactly the same,” he kissed Sky’s cheek and whispered in his ear. Without a second glance - for the sake of his own sanity - he climbed off the bed and hurried out of the room, closing the door once more.

He felt infinitely better after seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and touching Sky. His exhaustion and stress melted away, leaving only the excitement behind. There was something else in the room- his brain could at least register that something more had changed- but he couldn’t see anything beyond Sky… and that tight little outfit he had on.

Prapai clenched his fists to avoid rubbing at the growing ache in his pants. He waited a full minute before he turned back to the door and opened it again.

Sky was back, seated exactly where he had been before, raised up on his knees so Prapai could see the entire outfit. The too-large racing jacket hanging just off his shoulders, the lacy top and bottoms. The last couple centimeters of his hard cock peaking out of the band.

“Do you like it?” Sky even whispered the same words again, biting his lip and looking up at Prapai from beneath his dark lashes.

“You’re perfect,” Prapai whispered as he stepped into the room and walked to the foot of the bed. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He let Sky crawl over to him, and stood still as Sky rose to meet him eye to eye, his soft little hands stroking the muscles of Prapai’s stomach through his shirt. A flicker of surprise- this time, Sky noticed they were bigger than they’d been.

Well, he was away for three months and had no appetite for clubbing or enjoying Germany’s nightlife without a boyfriend by his side. Prapai burned his excess energy at the hotel gym, and only went out once or twice a week with various people from the office to be polite.

Sky loved to feel and kiss and bite at Prapai’s muscles, why not use their time apart to prepare a treat? Prapai’s body was hard in all the places Sky could want him to be hard.

“Nong Sky remembers his promise to Phi,” Sky was slightly breathless, his chin dipped as he looked up into Prapai’s burning eyes. He felt the hitch in Prapai’s breath. The one time Sky let Prapai watch him finger himself over the video chat, he’d been so deliriously horny that he used filthy language with Prapai, language he usually avoided.

And then he’d promised to use it again when they met in person.

Honestly, Sky felt kind of stupid wearing the lingerie. He didn’t have the body to make it look good, and he wasn’t entirely sure it was the style Prapai would even like. Not quite girly, not quite masculine. The top was probably too much, just the bottoms he could have been at least somewhat okay with. When he’d made the purchase, Sky was a bit excited, but the reality didn’t match up to his imagination once he actually put it on.

But then the door opened and Prapai looked like he was about to collapse- even though it was the second time he was seeing the outfit. His eyes burned into Sky’s body. The intensity was almost frightening. It made Sky feel… powerful.

“P’Pai,” Sky’s voice was trembling, “Nong Sky wants you to play with his body.”

“Do you?” Prapai’s dark eyes roamed. He reached out and pressed a thumb to the tip of Sky’s cock, stroking the area around the pinhole with the rough pad. He smirked as Sky whimpered, his hands immediately grabbing on to Prapai. “What if I want to play until my little Nong begs me to stop?”

“T-then Phi should keep playing until Nong Sky can’t beg anymore,” Sky whispered. His whole body was trembling. He tried to fight the way his hips flinched into Prapai’s touch, or the gasps that escaped his lips.

“Sky-”

“I want it,” Sky stopped Prapai’s warning by sliding one hand down to stroke Prapai through the fabric of his pants. “I want it so much. Please,” he pressed against Prapai, licking his neck before biting the lobe of his ear. “Please,” Sky ground his hips into the touch freely now as he pleaded. “Phi, please fuck Nong Sky? Please?” Desperation crept into him.

He wanted Prapai so badly that he would set his dignity aside to shamelessly wrap his free hand around Prapai’s, forcing him to press harder against the little bit of cock he’d arranged above the line of the black lace.

“How does Nong Sky want it?” Prapai was shaking as he dug his thumb into Sky’s cock, making the boy gasp against him.

But Sky pulled himself together long enough to whisper in Prapai’s ear, “Hard, rough, and-”

“And?”

Sky forced himself to lean back and look to the left, “-worth remembering.”

Prapai slowly turned to look where Sky directed and… figured out what was new in the room that he hadn’t noticed before.

There were two bars rising up from the side of the bed with an empty space between. On top of those bars, two round wooden handles with small latches on the bottom. The cuffs were missing, but Prapai knew the posts were usually higher, and meant for restraints. He couldn’t imagine binding Sky, and had no particular interest in it, but these were just left open, like handles. And only a couple meters in front of them, a tall mirror with a small hole cut out of the middle.

There was a camera behind the mirror.

Sky wanted to make a sex tape- but he also wanted to watch Prapai take him.

“Wicked little Nong,” Prapai hissed in Sky’s ear as he forced him back to the middle of the bed, crawling up onto it himself in the process. Prapai turned Sky to face the mirror and slid in behind him.

Sky’s hands both went to grip Prapai’s thighs as he pressed against Sky’s back, his own hands stroking the edges of those lace panties. Sky leaned against Prapai’s chest and turned his head to lick and bite at Prapai’s neck, whimpering and grinding his backside against the hardness he could feel.

Prapai was looking at the mirror, and Sky turned his eyes to it to meet Prapai’s gaze. He locked eyes with Prapai in the reflection and bit his lip, his whole body feeling hot and tingling, even though Prapai had deliberately avoided touching his cock or nipples since climbing on the bed.

Hands gently grasped Sky’s thighs, and Prapai tucked his thumbs under the lace to lightly stroke the sides of the soft rises on either side of his length.

“Stay,” Prapai whispered in his ear. He waited until Sky straightened up, no longer resting against his hard chest.

Prapai never took his clothes off so quickly in his life.

Sky whimpered as Prapai returned to him. The hard cock rested against the back of the lace panties, it’s heat scorching where the hole in the back was cut to give Prapai leave to fuck him with the outfit still on.

Prapai pushed Sky to the edge of the bed and buried his face in Sky’s neck, making the boy moan for his life. Prapai lifted Sky’s hands to hold onto the two posts, locking them in place with his own grip. It pinned Sky’s arms open, leaving his chest on full display.

Sky watched him in the mirror as Prapai devoured his neck, licking and biting, his hips pushing against Sky from behind. He released Sky’s hands, but Sky kept them in place, resisting the urge to grab on to Prapai as those big hands began to stroke his thighs and slide beneath the leather jacket.

“Never let go,” Prapai’s voice was hoarse as he again vanished from behind Sky, this time to circle the bed.

He dropped to his knees in front of the mirror.

Sky cried out as Prapai bit the inside of his thigh, nearly forgetting the command to keep his hands on the posts. He stared not at his reflection, but at the pinhole cut for the camera. Whenever Prapai watched this back, Sky would be staring into his eyes.

Tears of pleasure and desperation gathered at the corners of his eyes as Prapai bit and licked all around his sensitive part, never crossing the threshold of the black lace. He opened his mouth in a silent scream, his arms shaking, as the tip of Prapai’s nose grazed the length of his cock.

“Did Nong touch his cock while Phi was away?”

“Ugh… N-not after that day,” Sky whimpered, bucking his hips towards the hot breath Prapai blew onto the tip. He bit his lip and forced his eyes to stay locked on that camera. “Nghhh… N-nong needs Phi to- ugh, to-to open him. To make it r-ready for Phi’s big cock.”

After he’d promised to use dirty language when Prapai came home, Sky had planned and practiced in front of the mirror, pouting and batting his eyes until he was disgusted with himself. But now, in the moment, it was more erotic than he ever imagined.

Sky cried out when the rough tongue licked his most sensitive part. He nearly fell off the edge of the bed as Prapai quickly yanked the front of the black lace down, freeing Sky’s length. Prapai took the entire length in his mouth at once, sucking at it with so much force that Sky couldn’t keep his eyes open.

“Aah! Ugh! Mmmmm.” Sky moaned endlessly, fighting against himself as Prapai’s hot mouth devoured him. The tongue rubbed at the underside, writhing against him as Prapai took him in. Every time his head bobbed back, Prapai would lick the hole at the tip of his length, tasting his precum. Prapai moaned his approval, the vibration making Sky’s eyes roll.

He hadn’t touched himself in well over a month. No matter how bad it got, no matter how hot his body was, he avoided it. He woke to damp sheets and sticky underwear more and more, but he refused to give his body what it craved. Now Prapai’s mouth was wrapped around him, sucking hard, and Sky was fighting the desperate need to cum.

Prapai clearly didn’t want him to stand a chance- he slid a finger into his mouth alongside Sky’s length. Once it was slick and wet, he slid it back and began to massage the outside of Sky’s hole.

“P’Pai!” Sky screamed out at the pressure and came hard in Prapai’s mouth. He gasped and shook, thrusting his hips deep into Prapai’s throat, his entire body spasming at the ripples of Prapai swallowing his release. The posts buckled slightly as Sky fought to keep his hands firmly on the handles until his body lost all strength.

He slumped onto the bed the moment Prapai released him, dazed for a moment.

Prapai crawled up the side of the bed, lifting Sky’s face with a hand and lowering the boy’s chin. Sky obediently opened his mouth and accepted the drops of cum that slid from Prapai’s tongue, then dragged the hot body down on top of him, crushing his lips against Prapai’s mouth and grinding shamelessly against the hard cock that was pressed to his abdomen.

Sky’s body was covered by Prapai’s. His hands covered Sky’s nipples, pinching and stroking them in time with the fierce tongue he pushed into Sky’s mouth. This was the heavy and vicious kiss Sky was waiting for. The gentleness from earlier was gone. Prapai was devouring him, and Sky reciprocated in kind.

“Nghnn!” Sky bit his own lip hard and arched his back as Prapai left his lips to bite and suck along the side of his neck. He wrapped his legs around Prapai’s middle, keeping their bodies pressed tightly together.

Sky was shaking beneath Prapai while those big hands pinched and flicked at his chest. He cried out when Prapai’s mouth moved down his shoulder, leaving marks all over the white skin. Sky grabbed his head and buried his fingers in Prapai’s hair, directing the hot mouth towards one of the slits in his lace top.

“Ugh! More!” he begged shamelessly when Prapai’s mouth finally covered the hard, pink rise. The heat and rough scrape of teeth against his sensitive area made Sky hard again. His hole throbbed, impatient for Prapai to fill it after so long apart.

But before that…

Prapai let Sky turn him on the bed, careful of the posts at the end. Prapai grasped his round butt hard enough to bruise, making Sky moan and tremble as he bent down and softly bit one of Prapai’s nipples.

Sky smirked at the way Prapai’s hips bucked up against him. He slid down Prapai’s body slowly, licking and kissing those new muscles, his whole body aching to feel the hardness smother him. But that molten desire in Prapai’s eyes meant Sky was about to be consumed, and he had his own cravings to tend to before that happened.

The hard cock that Sky had dreamed of for months was standing tall, curved, and near bursting. A steady drip of clear liquid rolled down the shaft and Sky couldn’t help but lick his lips. His eyes were glassy and there was no rational thought beyond needing it inside his mouth.

Prapai leaned up to watch him, tugging at the collar of the jacket Sky still wore. “Take it off. I want to see you moving.”

Sky shivered and obeyed Prapai’s words, tossing the jacket to one side before wrapping his hands around the base of Prapai’s cock. He didn’t hesitate to lick up along the shaft and taste the salty liquid, moaning deep in his throat the way Prapai had.

Now it was Prapai fighting to stay upright, but he wasn’t looking at the camera hole of the mirror. He was staring between Sky’s beautiful mouth wrapped around his member and the view the mirror granted- the way Sky’s butt rose and fell, the way his back shifted and moved as he stroked and gradually took more of the cock into his mouth.

There were so many things he’d imagined while stroking himself, alone in his hotel room, half a world away from this boy. Things he was determined to commit to the camera’s memory. Hell, it would probably take more than a few re-shoots to go through the whole list, just to be thorough.

“I’ve wanted to fuck… that hot little mouth… every single day…” Prapai ground the words out, unconsciously rolling his hips into Sky’s mouth. Sky responded by rising just a bit higher on his knees and taking Prapai deeper into his throat. The softness and the heat were driving Prapai insane. He needed to be inside Sky- somewhere deeper and hotter than his mouth.

From the way Sky was clenching his thighs, he felt the same.

Prapai fell back onto the bed, using the hands that had been propping him up to instead gently hold Sky’s head. He thrust harder into Sky’s throat and growled at the way the boy moaned around him. Prapai’s gasps turned to groans, and it took everything in his body and soul to pull Sky off of his cock before he came.

Sky’s lips were swollen and red as Prapai pulled him back up. Prapai crushed Sky’s mouth with his, hands kneading and grasping at Sky’s butt through the fabric of those panties.

“Turn around,” Prapai crawled backwards on the bed, pausing only to grab the bottle of lube that Sky had set on the nightstand. It was rose flavored, and he sniffed it as he sat, leaving space between his legs for Sky to nestle in.

“Nong Sky wants to taste good for Phi,” Sky was shaking. He slumped against Prapai, his back against the hard chest.

Prapai kissed his cheek hard, “You always taste so fucking good, baby.” He stroked Sky’s inner thighs, then tapped the inside of one calf and pointed at the handle. “I want you to show me everything.”

Normally, Sky would be far too shy, but he bought the mirror. He bought the camera. The mirror was no different from looking at a second Prapai who was sitting in the room with them, watching.

For Prapai, Sky could be shameless.

He slipped his ankles through the open part beneath the handle. A narrow fit, but not too difficult. It forced him down further in Prapai’s lap, his hole on full display through the cut in the black lace.

“What does Nong Sky want?” Prapai growled in his ear, making Sky clench his eager hole.

“Ah… ah!” Sky could only moan as Prapai’s fingers circled his nipples, brushing and pinching hard enough to make his cock twitch.

“What. Does. Nong Sky. Want?” Prapai pinched hard and kept the pressure, making Sky writhe against him. Sky was driving Prapai insane with his desperation, and the boy knew it.

“Nong Sky wants Phi to play with his little hole,” Sky looked up at Prapai with misty eyes, looking extremely innocent and adorable in his torment. He grabbed Prapai’s wrist, and the man allowed him to drag his hand across the pale body until his fingertips rested against the pulsing and hungry spot.

Prapai’s other hand found the bottle of lube again, and he took his fingers away long enough to put a small amount of it on his hand. Before closing the bottle, Prapai licked a drop that was sliding down the side. “I like it.”

Sky rocked his hips back further, whimpering, while Prapai teased him by offering only gentle touches. Just enough pressure to make his presence felt, but not enough to breach the tight space.

“Have you really not played with yourself in two months?” Prapai asked, his free hand rubbing at Sky’s chest while he continued to circle the hole.

“Ahh! Nong Sky really hasn’t touched himself… ugh… since that day you called,” Sky looked up into Prapai’s dark eyes, rotating his hips as best he could, offering movement in the opposite direction as the fingers.

His legs were splayed wide, and he gasped when Prapai suddenly grabbed his chin and turned his face towards the mirror.

“Then Phi needs to take good care of Nong Sky,” Prapai rested a hand on Sky’s throat, holding his chin.

“Nghh!!!” Sky clenched his jaw and screamed as Prapai suddenly shoved a finger inside in a single hard thrust. It was painful after so long without indulging himself, but Prapai knew how to angle himself, and that finger struck his most sensitive point and broke the pain with a vicious wave of pleasure. Sky’s whole body began to shake, and he nearly came in an instant.

Rain bought a fairly savage looking cock ring, why didn’t he buy one too?

Prapai’s eyes were molten. At every point in their relationship, Sky wasn’t shy about playing with his own hole. He probably played with himself every few days, more often to relieve stress in busy times. The months since that call were the longest Sky had gone without touching himself in years.

“You’re practically a virgin,” Prapai ground his finger against the spot inside of Sky, massaging his tight ring with a thumb.

Sky could barely think beyond the wonderful pressure in his ass, but he needed more. He wanted Prapai to be rougher, to make him scream again.

“Phi,” Sky gasped, arching his back as Prapai dragged his finger out and slammed it back in. “Nong Sky needs a teacher. Nong Sky-” he moaned at the feral lust on the face that stared back at him in the mirror. The slight cocking of the head, the emptiness in Prapai’s dark eyes that told him Prapai was at the limit of his tolerance. “Nong Sky needs his Phi to- gasp- to show him what it feels like- nghnnnn- to have a big, strong man inside him.”

He felt Prapai’s hips press against his back as a second finger pushed inside. He began to roll slightly as he spread his fingers, opening Sky up for the camera to see before abruptly slamming them in again with a loud, wet clap.

“Do you like how Phi touches your body?” Prapai’s hand moved a bit faster, more forcefully, making Sky cry out. “Do you like how Phi’s fingers feel inside you?”

“Harder,” sweat drenched Sky’s body, and he clenched hard around Prapai’s fingers as the man turned to bite his ear. “More, I need more. Put more fingers in Nong’s little hole.”

Prapai cursed in several languages. Sky seemed determined to make Prapai come from talk alone. He slid a third finger into Sky, avoiding his tender spot as Sky screamed out and clawed at the sheets. He was so close to releasing, but Prapai knew Sky’s body too well to let that happen.

The only pause in Sky’s torment was when Prapai added more lube to his hand, spreading it inside and making the viciously tight passage easier to penetrate. He fed Sky kisses and bites as the moans became more desperate and his legs began to shake, held out as they were.

“I think it’s time to see how much Nong Sky can fit inside him,” Prapai said.

Sky’s legs were limp as Prapai pulled them back from the handles. Sky hadn’t come, but his whole body was drained of energy. Prapai had to help him sit up, and held his hips tight as Sky grabbed onto the handles and tried to rise up in front of the mirror.

It had been months since he felt Prapai moving inside him, and the wait was killing him.

“P’Pai, please stick it in Nong Sky.” He begged shamelessly, no longer embarrassed by the dirty talk. Sky ground his ass against Prapai’s crotch, moaning at the hardness that was just waiting to slide into him.

“Stick what in?” Prapai’s finger slid into him and Sky sobbed with disappointment. “What does Nong Sky want?”

“Nong Sky wants P’Pai big, hard cock inside his hole. Nong Sky- Ugh! Ahhh!” Sky screamed as the finger was immediately replaced by the head of Prapai’s tendon. Prapai shoved in hard, pushing the tip inside and stretching Sky further than he’d been stretched in months.

He would have collapsed onto the bed if Prapai wasn’t holding his hips in a bruising grip.

“Is that what you wanted?” Prapai slid what little was in Sky out and thrust back in, pushing a little further, Sky’s body spasmed around him and when Prapai next thrust himself in, Sky released.

But Sky loved it when Prapai thrust through his orgasm. Prapai shoved even more of his cock into Sky’s ass, angling their bodies so Sky was half sitting on his lap. He wrapped his hands over Sky’s on the handle, keeping the young man open and visible in the mirror.

Prapai watched the tears of pleasure falling down Sky’s cheeks as he picked up the pace, thrusting hard against Sky’s spot with no care for the drops of cum that were hanging from the tip of Sky’s cock as it swung under his force.

“Nghhhh, P’Pai, more. Harder. Hard!” Sky cried out for Prapai. The sound of their bodies colliding lit a fire inside Sky, and he found himself curving his hips to meet Prapai’s heavy thrusts.

Prapai abandoned Sky’s hands to wrap his arms around the torso. One hand pinched and pulled at Sky’s nipples while the other took hold of his shoulder. Sky’s legs fully collapsed as Prapai used all of his strength to pull Sky’s body down onto his cock, forcing himself even deeper. He slammed into the boy once, twice, three more times before Prapai roared and crushed Sky’s chest in his hand.

Heat and pressure flooded Sky’s insides as Prapai shot rope after rope into him. He could feel the throbbing of Prapai’s cock as it emptied, making Sky’s mouth water.

Prapai thrust into Sky until the cum began to drip out around his cock. He pulled out then and shoved Sky back onto the bed.

“Clean me.” Prapai held his length against Sky’s lips, grinning at the shiver that went through Sky’s body. He knew Sky loved when he did this, Sky said as much on their video chat. Prapai waited for Sky to open his mouth and begin to lick and suck at his cock without disgust or hesitation. He didn’t care that it was coated in cum and lube. He devoured it as if it were a rich delicacy.

Normally, Prapai wasn’t shy about thrusting into Sky’s mouth, but he had needs too. Once he was clean, Prapai grabbed Sky’s thighs and lifted his legs, yanking the panties off of him completely before crushing his mouth to Sky’s hole and pushing his tongue as deep into Sky’s ass as he could.

Sky writhed against Prapai’s mouth, his hands immediately going to Prapai’s head to stroke his hair as he wrapped his arms around Sky’s thighs and devoured him with an almost frightening intensity.

“Nghhh! Aah!!! So good, good!” Sky held Prapai’s head tighter as teeth scraped against his thighs and Prapai nearly smothered himself lapping the release from Sky’s hole. Prapai groaned and shivered between his legs, his movements becoming more intense and hungry at the response.

When Prapai released him at last, he was hard again. Sky was weak, he’d already climaxed three times and wasn’t sure he could last.

That was what the toy he’d picked out at the store was for, though.

“P’Pai, the nightstand, the drawer,” Sky gasped as Prapai flipped him onto his stomach and prepared to enter him again.

He didn’t want to wait, but he looked where Sky directed and found a case with a thimble-like device inside. It was open on one end, with small beads the size of grains of rice inside. Sky grabbed the case from Prapai’s hand and pulled the thing out.

Prapai watched as Sky pinched one end to open it slightly, then slid the head of his own cock into it. He shuddered as he released the end and the device gripped his tip with force.

Sky was panting hard as he reached for his phone and handed it to Prapai. When Prapai turned it on, he found an app ready to go.

The control for the vibrator.

Prapai grinned wickedly and lined himself up with Sky’s hole. Sky grabbed onto the headboard for support, but his arms immediately gave out as Prapai turned on the device and slammed in at the same time.

Sky screamed as the sensations in his ass warred with the vibrating torment at the head of his cock. Both overwhelming, both too much and not enough at the same time. Prapai tossed the phone onto the other side of the bed and set a rough pace. Sky’s eyes rolled up in his head as he cried and moaned, his body spasming as he was forced to get hard once again.

Prapai licked and kissed the trembling back beneath him as he thrust hard. He didn’t care about the mirror or the camera anymore, he only cared about the boy beneath him. Sky’s moans, gasps, and cries were the most beautiful sound, and the tight heat inside him was intoxicating.

A weak climax tore through Sky, making him claw at the sheets and clench almost painfully around Prapai. Prapai grabbed Sky’s chest with his hand as he erupted into the thin body, his lust only growing stronger as he felt the rapid heartbeat of his prey.

When they began, Prapai promised he would fuck Sky until he was beyond pleading.

He had no intention of stopping any time soon.

---

Prapai held Sky’s body as he shuddered and gasped. Fingers slid in and out of Sky’s hole, giving him the attention he needed, even if Sky was begging for mercy after hours of torment.

“P’Pai, numb… It’s numb… Ugh… Ahhh,” his cries were hoarse, and little more than whimpers. The vibrator at the head of his cock was buzzing as Prapai’s free hand pinched and smoothed those sensitive nipples.

“Your body doesn’t seem to be numb,” Prapai groaned in Sky’s ear and felt his hole tighten around the fingers that wouldn’t stop playing. Sky responded to the moans, and he flinched whenever Prapai ground his fingers into that special place.

Sky was balled up against his chest, barely conscious, and still biting the tip of his thumb in the cutest way. His other hand was wrapped around Prapai’s cock, trembling and halting as he used what little strength he had to stroke the man. It wasn’t enough to make Prapai cum- Sky’s muscles were exhausted and weak from holding himself up on the posts, he held the cock the way he might hold a hand.

But Prapai was hard, and he was hard because of those little gasps and cries that broke from Sky’s lips.

“P’Pai… please…please…” Sky muttered, nearly delirious with the sensations that had ravaged him over and over again.

“Phi will help Nong Sky one more time,” Prapai reached over to the dresser and touched the screen of Sky’s phone. Before, he set the vibrator to a lower setting. Now, Prapai dialed it up.

Sky screamed deep in his throat and bucked against Prapai’s leg. Prapai’s fingers inside him began to press and strike at that spot in earnest as the head of Sky’s cock burned from the aching force of the vibrator. He was so tired, but his body tensed against his will, muscles screaming.

Prapai felt Sky clamp down hard on his fingers one last time and the thinnest stream of clear liquid poured out from around the head of the vibrator. Sky’s entire body shuddered and everything tight suddenly became loose. He slumped against Prapai’s chest, the only sign of life being the subconscious twitching of his hips as his cock grew soft.

Prapai turned off the vibrator first, then wrapped his big hand over Sky’s little one. He shifted their bodies so that Sky was laying flat on the bed, his eyes closed. Prapai bit and licked and sucked on Sky’s heavily marked neck, devouring his skin while his hips thrust into their hands. After only a few minutes, Prapai came and collapsed on top of Sky, shuddering and spent.

Exhaustion was crashing down on him, but Prapai forced his body to move. His legs shook as he crawled off the bed and found the camera behind the mirror. He switched it off before moving the handles to the far side of the room.

He wasn’t putting them away- they would see much more use as soon as possible- but he didn’t want to risk Sky tripping over them when he woke.

Sky didn’t even stir as Prapai carried him to the shower and washed their bodies. Prapai noticed the adorable part stiffening as he cleaned lube and cum from Sky’s hole, so he latched his mouth around the rises at the base of Sky’s shaft, licking and sucking at them, encasing Sky’s dick with his hot mouth and managed to force one last dry orgasm from Sky’s body.

Prapai washed himself last, and threw the soiled top blanket into the hamper on the far side of the room. He fetched a new one, staggering at the way the lights in the room seemed to streak and echo in his vision.

He’d been awake for easily two days, and he felt like he was going to die of exhaustion. How did his little Sky handle it? How did he stay sane during his exams?

Prapai wrapped the blanket around their bodies and squeezed Sky tight to his chest. Part of him somehow still missed Sky, still needed to feel him crushed against every inch of Prapai. He smiled as Sky wrapped an arm around his torso and held him as tight as his shaking limb could allow.

This was home. This was the only thing Prapai could ever need to feel happy in the world. The boy in his arms, the warm body pressed against his, and the soft coos Sky made when he slept.

It was the only thing that could ever truly matter.

---

Sky’s entire body ached when he woke up. His legs were all but useless, muscles he didn’t even know existed in his arms were trembling with fatigue, and there was a deep soreness in his ass.

Prapai was still fast asleep, his face pale making the dark bags beneath his eyes stand out. Sky reached up and traced the lines of his face as tears filled his eyes and dripped down his cheeks. He forced himself off the bed and opened the door as quietly as he could, leaning on the handle for support.

Furniture around the condo helped Sky make his way to the kitchen, where he found Prapai’s suitcases. Sky wasn’t sure what possessed him, but he sat down heavily in the living room, still nude, and opened each bag. Clothes were thrown to one side, items that needed to be put away were set neatly on the low table. It was difficult work, given the state of his arms and the soreness of his rear, but it was important.

When they were both empty, Sky put one case inside the other and sealed them, then used the suitcase as a crutch to walk over to the large storage closet on the other side of the condo.

He needed the suitcases gone. He needed them out of sight, put away, and done with.

He needed to know that they couldn’t take Prapai away from him again.

The clothes could be washed later. The items put away whenever, but the cases had to go where Sky wouldn’t have to think of them.

Sky went to the bathroom and took some medicine for the soreness in his body before sliding back into bed beside Prapai. In an instant, arms folded around him and pulled the still-tired boy close. He nuzzled into Prapai’s chest and felt himself smiling as he listened to the steady rhythm of his heart. Too long he’d slept alone in a cold and quiet bed. His body felt heavy the moment he laid down again.

“How long do I get to keep you?” Prapai whispered, eyes still closed.

“I turned the last of my work in two days ago,” Sky’s throat allowed him only a whisper in response.

Prapai’s answer was to hold Sky even tighter, a faint smile on the lips he pressed into Sky’s forehead.

Within minutes, the two were asleep again.

---

Part 1 (PayuRain)

#prapai #sky #prapaisky #prapai x sky #sky x prapai #love in the air #lita #love sky #my writing #when all the work is finished #fanfic #fanfiction #lita fanfic #lita fanfiction #Watch

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seidenapfel · 7 days ago

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2024 in Review

In 2024, I posted 17 fics, ranging from 334 to 27,731 words. Although I feel I joined too many bangs this year, only six fics were bang collabs. Addionally, there were eight art collabs as well. I haven't counted the art pieces, though. However, it probably felt that much because there are nine collabs I'm currently working on for 2025. So, if you like my fics and art, please subscribe to me on AO3 for fics and art, and/or follow me on Tumblr.

Making a List, Checking it Twice (Rated: E | Word Count: 1,369)

Summary: Dean forgets a naughty list in the kitchen. There's only one person/angel who can have found it.

The year started smutty with my first fic for the 12 Days of Smutmas.

Heating Up a Snow Cave (Rated: E | Word Count: 2,907)

Summary: Caught in a blizzard, Cas and Dean have to find a way to warm each other up.

My second fic for the 12 Days of Smutmas.

You Ain't Him (Rated: T | Word Count: 840)

Summary: “Dean?” Dean winced. No. It couldn’t be. His entire body started to tingle as the gravel voice vibrated through him. A voice he thought he would never hear again. This wasn’t happening. He was gone. He was—

A little birthday fic for Dean Winchester.

Books, Pies, and Roommates (Rated: E | Word Count: 27,731)

Summary: Everything seemed easy when Castiel landed a job in Lawrence as a literature professor at KU. He even found a place to stay with his cousin in Topeka. But the daily commute quickly gets on his nerves and he begins looking for a room in town. When he finally lucks out on a house, it comes with a catch. His mysterious landlord/housemate works and lives in Topeka during the week, and will only be at home for the weekend while Castiel is back at his cousin’s to honor a promise he made. When Dean walks into his favorite pie shop, the new sales assistant takes his breath away. Steve is gorgeous, and part of the owner’s family. Dean doesn’t even mind that he picks up Gabriel’s stupid moniker for him. After all, Deano has one syllable more, and Dean will do anything to hear Steve’s voice just a little bit longer. Though, as breathtaking Steve might be, he isn't Angel. If only Dean's book-loving best friend weren't a mystery in himself — a guy who Dean has only met online, but who has slowly taken his heart away. And it seems that Dean isn't alone in his feelings. When the lines blur and fantasies merge three guys into one, disappointment and heartbreak seem to be inevitable.

Pinefest ( @deancaspinefest ) is always one of the highlights of the year and this year @kitshay claimed my fic and created some beautiful pieces. Besides, I had a great time writing this two-person love hexagon.

Maybe not yet, but eventually (Rated: T | Word Count: 1,032)

Summary: Screaming, Dean wakes from a nightmare, trapped inside his memories.

This is the first of several time stamps this year. This one was for my 2021 DCBB fic Maybe not a comedy (according to Jack), but he likes the happy ending that can be read as a standalone.

Setting Sail (Rated: T | Word Count: 334)

Summary: 1805: Nodding at Lieutenant Davies and Midshipman Alfie, and leaving command with Lieutenant Hester, Castiel walks towards his cabin when he sees him.

Another timestamp, this time for my 2022 Regency Big Bang fic Forty Shillings on the Drum. Written for the Tumblr May Trope Mayhem. Can be read as standalone.

Maybe not magnificent, but damn awesome (Rated: T | Word Count: 1,137)

Summary: Movie nights aboard the Impala have become something of a routine after they reunited Sam with his family on Terra. Once a week, Charlie picks some classic movie from back in the days, and their little found family comes together in the living room.

Timestamp number three, once again for my 2021 DCBB fic Maybe not a comedy (according to Jack), but he likes the happy ending. Another entry for the May Trop Mayhem. Should work as standalone.

Filling the Empty Space in My Heart (Rated: T | Word Count: 5,035)

Summary: After Cas let himself be taken by the Empty, Dean's life continues in a blur. Only Jack keeps him going, who has turned himself into an actual four-year-old boy after defeating Chuck and giving up the majority of his powers to stabilise Heaven. However, Dean knows he isn't good enough to raise a nephil. Jack needs his dad. And there might be one way to bring him back. Even if it leads Dean back to Hell, and beyond.

Inspired by an art piece for the DCRB 2024 where I ended up empty handed, and written for the Profound Bond Gift Exchange as a gift for @thecadenceimperfect. With art by me. I later wrote a smutty timestamp as well called:

A Place to Stay (Rated: E | Word Count: 3,157)

Summary: After getting back from the Empty, Dean’s entire body tingled, too edgy for his skin. He barely paid attention to the others and couldn’t stop fidgeting since he had returned to the library and joined them once again at the table. Cas’ presence was electric, pulling him into its orbit. Dean felt it in every fibre of his being as he slumped down on the chair next to him. Echoes of Grace pulsed through him, and for the first time since Cas pulled that stupid stunt and let himself be swallowed by the Empty, Dean felt alive.

TFW 2.0: Siren Adventures (Rated: E | Word Count: 4,727)

Summary: After Charlie and Sam's plan to save Cas and Dean goes sideways, Charlie doesn't give up. There must be another way. When she finds help in an unsual ally, the future is suddenly starting to look brighter.

My Crack in the Chassis catch ( @crack-in-the-chassis ) for @notreallyaroad 's fic TFW: Just Add Water. At first, I claimed for art, but due to the special kind of bang, we agreed for me to write an alternate ending / fix-it as well.

A Part of Me Shall Still Remain (Rated: T | Word Count: 6,918)

Summary: In 1805 Commander Castiel returns home after long years at sea. The Battle of Trafalgar has left him a broken man. For years, he shuns society and withdraws to his estate, until a scandal involving Sir Castiel’s disgraced cousin and a young noblewoman shakes the ballrooms of London and Bath. It introduces him to a doomed woman, who not only does approve of his deepest secrets, but who also does give birth to a child that will alter the commander’s life forever.

My fic for the Dadstiel Bang ( @dadstielminibang ) with stunning art by @twinone1221. This fic is set in the verse of my 2022 Regency Big Bang fic Forty Shillings on the Drum, but can be read as standalone. I had two other collabs for the Dadstiel Bang, both art.

Everlasting Fall (Rated: E | Word Count: 3,136)

Summary: Tendrils of Grace trickled from Dean’s fingers as his hand ghosted along Castiel’s flank. Gasping, Castiel shivered and Dean smiled. “You like that?” Stripped of their combined Grace for the night, Castiel gives himself over to Dean, ready to be taken apart.

Another timestamp because after demon and angel smut, I wanted to write some Grace kink. Set in my Calming the Weather verse.

That's Purrfect (Rated: T | Word Count: 1,262)

Summary: Castiel would do anything for him. He would level entire civilisations for Dean Winchester, or dress as a cat — it didn’t matter as long as Dean was happy.

Another Halloween fic to add to my annual tradition, and the only fic I managed to write for Suptober this year.

Highly Professional (Rated: E | Word Count: 25,565)

Summary: On his first day of college, Dean feels like a fish out of water. After years of working his ass off with several jobs at once to fund his brother’s studies, his family and friends have decided to pay him back. That’s how he finds himself panicking in the lecture hall. Thankfully, a fellow student distracts him. She promptly becomes a good friend, and Dean has no idea how badly he will need her. The moment he lays eyes on his physics professor, Dean is lost. Castiel Novak seems like the man of his dreams. And when the professor’s son appears from under the podium, several lives take an unsuspected turn.

My fic collab for the DCBB 2024 with wonderful art by @sasanka-27. I started this fic for the Dadstiel Bang, but changed it for the one I ended up with.

Your Own Personal Heaven (Rated: T | Word Count: 3,004)

Summary: After arriving in Heaven, Dean's nursing a beer in the crowded and snowed-in Roadhouse when the door opens and Cas enters. Crowding him, Dean makes out with him in front of everyone present, believing that he is stuck in his personal Heaven and none of it is real.

I haven't shared this Christmas fic on Tumblr before because I was too busy with bang collabs and the holidays. Inspired by a prompt by @macy2me.

It's a Stabby Life (Rated: T | Word Count: 4,370)

Summary: Dean Smith’s life as Director of Sales and Marketing at Sandover seems perfect. If there weren’t the dreams, and his new colleague. When he runs into Castiel and accidentally stabs him with a knife in the cafeteria, the guy walks away as if nothing happened. Maybe it didn’t and Dean is simply overworked. But then it happens again, and again, and Dean’s perfect life slowly falls to pieces.

The first of two fics for @deancas-stabfest. @arlington-chamber-of-gay claimed it an created beautiful pieces for the stabs. I had never written Dean Smith before, so this was really fun.

Gonna Find Out Who's Naughty or Nice (Rated: T | Word Count: 8,859)

Summary: During a case involving an entire coven of witches, Dean tries on a Santa hat. Nothing seems wrong, until he can’t remove the hat. Jingles start following his every step while his body changes. Slowly at first, then faster and faster, until he can’t hide it any longer from Sam and Castiel: Dean is transforming into Santa, and there seems to be no way back.

My Stabfest collab number two is the last fic for this year. This time, I claimed a wonderful art piece by @masoenart. It was the second collab with @masoena this year after our collab for the Midam Bang during the summer where our roles were reversed. One reader called this fic Christmas horror. I just had a lot of fun writing it.

Art Collabs

(you find the links to the fics when you follow the links to the art, either on AO3 or Tumblr)

Destiel Pinefest 2024: Art for 'Given to Fly' by MittenWraith, colalb with @mittensmorgul [art on Tumblr]

Bottom Cas Big Bang 2023/2024: Art for 'Raising Kids, Finding Love, the Family Business' by Mydestielbabies_67, collab with @spnisthewayoflife [art on Tumblr]

Dadstiel Mini Bang 2024: Art for 'Make a Wish' by Avonlady, collab with @avonlady42 [art on Tumblr]

Art for 'Always Memorable' by golbygloom, collab with @golby-moon [art on Tumblr]

Crack in the Chassis 2024: Art for 'TFW: Just Add Water' by notreallyaroad, collab with @notreallyaroad [art on Tumblr]

Midam Bang 2024: Art for 'Breaking Light — A Future Earned' by Masoena, collab with @masoena [art on Tumblr]

DCBB 2024: Art for 'Marriage of Heaven, Hell & Humanity' by draechaeli, collab with @draechaeli [art on Tumblr]

Stabfest 2024: Art for 'Monsters and Men' by FriendofCarlotta, collab with @friendofcarlotta [art on Tumblr]

Over the summer, I also posted several sketches I drew in my sketchbook.

And I posted some photos taken at PurCon which ended up my most shared posts of the year.

#destiel #destiel fanart #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #seidenapfel writes #seidenapfel arts #I hope all links work. Otherwise let me know and I change them.#seidenapfel masterlist

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bella-rose29 · 9 months ago

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April Fool's! ~ a DTH special

here's the first of (I'm sure) many Deck the Halls specials! in honour of April Fool's Day I figured it was the perfect occasion to write a lil something about our Schmoopies (who love to prank each other)

I did take a teeny bit of inspiration from @tangledinlove's heart eyes series (which if you haven't read then go now! also I recommend everything on love's master list) and wrote this special through the eyes of Holly, George, and Lucy!

edit: I should add in now that you probably could read this as a standalone? there are some references in there that might be teeny spoilers but tbh DTH is pretty formulaic so you could figure out the plot just from the summary 😂

Warnings: one or two swear words, and I think that's it? maybe a spoiler in the form of Holly being there?

Word count: 1.7k

anthony lockwood master list

enjoy the pictures of lockwood and Cameron being silly boys!

“Where is he?”

Holly looked up from where she sat at the kitchen table writing a shopping list to study the girl who stood in the doorway. Y/n had her hands on her hips and a frown on her face, and Holly felt sorry for whoever she was looking for. No doubt it was Lockwood, having forgotten an important anniversary or something, who was provoking the glare that had settled over Y/n’s features.

“Lockwood?” Holly asked, returning her attention to the shopping list. She tapped the pencil against her temple while trying to think of what she was missing.

“Yep. Have you seen him? I’ve got a bone to pick with him, the little shit.”

Holly snorted, then a thought popped into her head. She wrote down ‘tomatoes’ in neat print with her pen. “What’s he done this time?”

The other girl huffed and moved further into the kitchen, pulling open cupboards with a little too much force. “He’s pranked me! Hid all the toothbrushes in the house and now I can’t brush my teeth!”

“I- he did what?” That was such a random thing to do, and yet it was very perfectly Lockwood. “Why would he prank you?” Holly’s colleague stopped in her tracks, arms spread open with the cupboard handles in each hand, and slowly turned around. Instead of the initial frustration that had been on her face there was now confusion.

“You… you do know what day it is… right?” Holly shook her head, brows creasing. “It’s April Fool’s Day? First of the month?” Realisation dawned, and she rushed to stifle her laugh when Y/n started glaring again. “Why is that funny? Lockwood hid all the toothbrushes, Holly! How do I brush my teeth now?! I had Weetabix this morning and my mouth feels all gross,” she complained.

“I think he went out for a walk or something,” Holly answered, finishing up her list. “That was a while ago, though, so he should be back in a minute.” No sooner than she’d stopped talking the sound of the front door opening made both girls look in the direction of the hall. Shuffling noises followed while the person moved around, then footsteps grew louder and the kitchen door was pushed open to reveal the head of the company.

Anthony Lockwood was many things: a great boss, slightly suicidal at times (although the number of occasions that he threw himself directly into danger had decreased significantly after the Christmas holidays), an excellent swordsman, and a loving boyfriend to Y/n.

But as Holly watched Y/n she knew that he was also in a lot of danger.

“Ah. Hello, Darling. Holly.” He was wary, gaze flicking between the two girls as he stayed holding on to the door handle. Y/n’s eyes narrowed, and Lockwood’s attention was suddenly solely on his girlfriend. His smile faltered slightly, and there was a split second where both he and Y/n sort of… hovered, the tension in the room palpable.

Then the chaos started.

Lockwood turned and fled the room, footsteps heavy on the stairs, and Y/n was hot on his heels, yelling as she thundered after him. Holly could hear their laughter echoing through the house, and she let out a chuckle of her own as she stood up and folded the shopping list, putting it in her pocket.

Her boss was going to suffer dearly for the rest of the morning for withholding the toothbrushes, but he wouldn’t be physically harmed.

A thump sounded on one of the upper floors, something that sounded worryingly like a body hitting the ground, and pleads of mercy followed immediately while mixed in with laughter.

She was tickling him, then. Going for the feet if she wanted maximum effect or sitting on him and going for his sides if she was smart and didn’t want him wriggling away.

Holly picked up a bag and her keys in the hallway, and made for Arif’s. Hopefully Lockwood would no longer be a hostage by the time she got back.

~~~

George Karim was normally quite forgiving when it came to Y/n, but printing out tens of pictures of Penelope Fittes was a step too far for him.

“Why do you even want to do this anyway? I thought after the whole… ‘fake-dating-turned-real-dating’ thing over Christmas you weren’t fighting anymore.” He was spread in front of the printer in his room, blocking his friend from accessing it. Since getting back from her family’s house in the middle of nowhere a few months ago, after snowstorms stretched out their Christmas, Lockwood and Y/n had been annoyingly cute and coupley.

“He hid all the toothbrushes, George. He’s having a nap right now because I tickled him into exhaustion, so I’ve not got much time before-” she broke off when George tackled her to prevent her from using the printer.

“Okay… well why does that mean you’re printing loads of pictures of Penelope Fittes? The head of the company we hate?”

“… Because I’m going to cut them out and replace all the photos in the house with them.” The pair of them stopped squirming and George pushed his glasses back up his nose to stare in shock and confusion at her.

“You… what?”

“It’s April Fool’s. I’ve got like… two hours left before midday. Please, Georgie. I have to get revenge.” He sighed, then released his grip on her.

“Fine. But when he gets annoyed, you are not linking this to me. I’m not getting dragged into all of this.”

The two of them spent the next fifteen minutes printing photos and cutting them out, and when it sounded like Lockwood was stirring, Y/n sent George to keep him distracted. He penned his boss in the library where he’d fallen asleep earlier, spewing facts about the next case they were going to go on to keep Lockwood there while Y/n snuck around the house. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been waffling on about murder victims and Type 2s, but when Lockwood’s girlfriend tentatively peeked around the door he had to stop himself from visibly sighing in relief.

“You alright, Schmoopie?” Where the nickname had come from, George had no idea, but Y/n was the only one who used it and specifically only when she wanted to piss off Lockwood. Lockwood himself knew this too, and George could immediately see the suspicion creep in.

“… yeah. Are you?”

“Hm? Oh, yep!” Her grin was wide, and looked rather like a shark, and George wondered why Lockwood was staring all heart-eyed at her despite being suspicious. “Just been… finding toothbrushes.” It was Lockwood’s turn to smile now, boyish delight making him perk up.

“Get any?”

“Eventually. Took me a bloody long time though,” she mumbled the last part, but the boys still heard. George snickered. Lockwood’s smile grew. “Anyway… tea?”

“Alright then,” Lockwood replied, stretching out a hand and moving over to the doorway. Y/n took it, planting a kiss on her boyfriend’s cheek before pulling him out the room.

She sent a wink over her shoulder at George as they turned the corner and disappeared.

~~~

So far, the pranks were one each.

Lucy had noticed Y/n putting photos of Penelope Fittes in all the picture frames around 35 Portland Row, and when her friend had explained why, she had gladly joined in. Any opportunity to mess with Lockwood was an opportunity that Lucy took.

Around half an hour after Lockwood had reappeared from the library, he still hadn’t noticed that all of the photos had been replaced. He’d spotted one or two maybe, but that was it. Some were more sneaky than others, and Lucy knew that Lockwood would be finding Penelope Fittes photos for weeks after today.

Now she was sat in the living room with George, Holly, and Y/n, sketching in her pad. There was near silence in the room, the clock ticking and what sounded like suppressed snorts of laughter outside the door the only noises. Lucy frowned, glancing at the door every few seconds. After another minute or so of stifled laughter Lockwood appeared, mouth pinched to hide the smile on his face as he walked in and sat on the arm of his normal armchair where Y/n was sat.

“…Lockwood?” Lucy asked. “Why are you wearing a hat? You’re… indoors?”

“Oh! Just felt like it! Thought it would be nice to wear something a little more fun. For morale, you know?”

Y/n looked up then, and gaped at the top hat perched on her boyfriend’s head. “You’re ridiculous, Anthony.”

“Yep. We’ve had this conversation before, Darling.” All talk died down after that, Lockwood occasionally murmuring a word or two to help Y/n with her crossword, and the members of the agency were at peace. At some point Lockwood excused himself to the toilet, and when he came back around five minutes later (they’d all heard the toilet flush) there was something slightly off about him. He still had the top hat on, but something was bugging Lucy.

The same process repeated, Lucy looking up at him every now and then to try and figure out what was different and Y/n doing the same (the two girls had shared multiple confused looks), and then Lockwood excused himself to get a plate of biscuits. When he came back, Lucy once again felt something was off. The biscuits were passed around, crossword helped, top hat still in place, then Lockwood came up with another reason to leave the room.

It was the fourth time he returned that Y/n appeared to realise what was happening. “Ohh, I see what you’re doing, Anthony Lockwood.”

“Do you?” he asked, innocent as a child. “I’ve noticed the photographs - don’t think I haven’t.”

“Oh, have fun finding them all. Why do you have multiple sizes of the same top hat?”

Lockwood shrugged. “Disguises. Why did you have so many photos of the head of the Fittes company?”

“Does it matter? You’ll be finding them for weeks.”

They finished their friendly bickering in hushed tones, Y/n standing up to let Lockwood sit down and balance her on his lap, and Lucy smiled softly at them.

After wrangling the whole story of what had happened over the Christmas holidays out of the two of them, Lucy had spent roughly the last two and a half months teasing the living daylights out of the couple for their antics, but she couldn’t deny how cute they were together.

She just hoped that the current poking in the sides they were doing didn’t turn into decking each other instead.

Cut scene (alternative prank):

Now she was sat in her room in the attic, one leg hanging off the edge with the other folded underneath while she drew in her sketchbook. The creaking of the steps up to her floor alerted her to someone’s presence, and after a few seconds Lockwood’s head appeared, followed by his body. “Ah, Luce, thought I’d find you here.” He had something in his hand, shiny in a crinkly plastic bag. “I need your help to-” he broke off, mid-movement while he peered at one of the pictures on Lucy’s bedside table. It was of the five of them, Lockwood, George, Holly, Y/n, and herself, except in the place of Skull sat on the sideboard was Penelope Fittes’ face. “Oh for fuck’s sake. Did she put some of these up here, too?” Lucy struggled not to smile.

“Must have done it when I was in the kitchen earlier.” That was a lie, Lucy had done it herself. “What did you need me for?”

“Ah!” He lifted the plastic bag and grinned. “Doubloons. Not real ones, obviously, I bought them from a cheap party shop down the road. I’m going to hide them around the house.”

Tag list:

@strawberryloveyyy, @chameleon021, @genderfluid-anime-goth, @cottagecore-babe, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @a-taken-url, @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @rhysand-devorak, @a-candle-maker, @h0lyheck, @apple-bottom-jeans6, @icantwaittoliveandlearn

@neewtmas, @bobbys-not-that-small, @avdiobliss, @demigoddess-of-ghosts, @maraschinomerry, @lewkwoodnco, @uku-lelevillain, @oblivious-idiot

as always, if there is anybody who wants to be added to my lockwood tag list, then please go here!

#deck the halls (and not your partner)#deck the halls specials #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you

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