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hedgehog-moss · 2 days ago
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I had a friend over this week and even though the weather wasn't ideal, we decided we were going to go for a long walk in the surrounding woods with all three llamas. Since Pampelune is the uncontested chief, you just need to halter her and her herd follows wherever she goes. Sometimes we emerged from the woods into a pasture and Pampérigouste started galloping like mad (followed by her daughter & her abandonment issues), but then Pampy would object with some firm hums and the other two returned, chastened.
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We'd brought a head of cabbage and we gave her a few leaves every time she successfully used her matriarch authority to re-gather our little group around her, even though she'd do it for free, because it's so nice to be able to go on walks with only one haltered llama and watch the younger ones frolic and explore the world as we go. Pampy seemed happy to walk with us at a steadier pace and to trade freedom for cabbage.
We'd initially planned to stay on my side of the torrent, but after meandering downhill for a long time we unexpectedly found an old bridge I didn't know existed, and it looked very inviting, so we crossed. (Ominous chords.) Then we enthusiastically went up hoping we'd see my house from the opposite hill—and we did, here it is :)
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And then we went back into the woods, and got lost. Of course. I really think my friend carries some sort of curse because I don't usually get lost in nature but the last time we went on a great hike we also found ourselves completely disoriented in a featureless snowy plain, trying to glimpse the sun behind clouds and debating whether finding the North would help us in any way.
This time we were quicker to admit we were lost, and I said we could either go uphill, and we'd find the road eventually and the nearest milestone would tell us where we are (or we'd reach a farm on the plateau), or go downhill, and we'd find the stream eventually and cross it and then we'd be in a part of the woods I'd recognise. Probably.
Drawback of going uphill: it's technically the wrong direction, so the way home will be that much longer (and night falls at 5pm)
Drawback of going downhill: we'll have to cross the water at some point. Without a bridge. It would take a miracle to find that bridge again, supposing it was a real bridge and not a fae illusion to lead us astray.
After debating for a bit we decided to go downhill, because we were hopeful that we'd find a shallow spot to cross the stream, and also we feared that at nightfall the llamas might just lie down and decide to spend the night right here, in the woods. It's hard to make a llama get up again once she's decided that enough things happened for today.
The question of whether the llamas would accept to cross a mountain stream with us was left undebated—though we did regret having spent our cabbage too lavishly and too soon.
But we followed a rivulet downhill and Pampe crossed it repeatedly, with merry and graceful mountain goat jumps, which made us feel comforted in our decision.
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Then we got to a point where the water became visible, and very noisy, and Pampelune started to feel suspicious. She made worried hums and walked more reluctantly and (having squandered our cabbage) we had to cajole her into compliance.
I love that my friend captured the moment when I crouched down and started straight-up lying to my llama.
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Poldine was the last one to realise something was afoot, because she is young and trusting.
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Once she did, she also became a bit reluctant (she wanted to go uphill again), and more than once my friend had to open her cloak-like coat in order to look like a bat and persuade Poldine that nothing good was happening in that direction.
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We found a spot where the water was pretty shallow and decided to cross. The air temperature was maybe 1°c and the water felt like it was minus twelve so my friend wasn't exactly happy about the series of decisions that had led us to this point. I pointed out that last time in that snowy plain there was this piercing relentless evil wind howling in our ears and making unsettling voice-like sounds when it blew through holes in fences (to help her relativise) and she was like, when did this day go from singing walking songs and watching Pampe gambol in pastures to "at least this time we aren't being driven mad by ghostly wind."
I told her that things that go wrong become the most vivid and fun memories in the long term and we debated this postulate for a bit and I felt like I had successfully distracted her from our plight, until she put her foot in the water and said she wished she were in the metro in Paris right now. In Châtelet even. I said "but in two days you'll be in the Paris metro wishing you were here trying to cross a cold mountain stream with three appalled llamas!" and she said yes. Still, the situation is dire when a Parisian says she would rather be in Châtelet.
Pampe actually followed us quite quickly! I'm pointing this out because I'm always talking about how contrary Pampérigouste is, but she was so great about crossing the stream, even humming to her daughter as if to encourage her. I suppose she was telling Poldine that when they make their final escape and become wild llamas they'll probably have to cross mountain streams now and then.
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Poldine panicked a bit once everyone was on the other side of the water except her, and although I'd already wrung out my socks I was psychologically preparing myself to cross the ice-cold water again and go get her—but after walking up and down the other bank desperately looking for an invisible bridge, she resentfully crossed.
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Then we went uphill again and eventually found our way to my neighbour's pasture! I immediately recognised the old tree in the middle and I was very happy to see it. My friend was holding Pampy and I had climbed ahead to act as a scout, and I cried out to share my discovery feeling like Vasco de Gama. It was snowing just a tiny bit, and getting darker, and I think everyone (including Pirlouit, languishing alone in his pasture) had started to privately wonder if we were going to spend the night in the woods.
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One interesting activity we did when we went home was testing the various objects that live on or near my fireplace to see which ones are heavy and stable enough to hang very wet socks. We tried the wistful wooden shepherd, the porcelain fox, the music box shaped like a pile of books, the vase, and found that the only reliable spots in my living-room to dry your socks are under Sherlock Holmes and under Marie-Antoinette so we agreed on a fair sock-drying rotation. The living-room smelled of wet wool (or wet llama) all evening, but we had a glass of champagne to celebrate the fact that we weren't currently trying to fight hypothermia by curling up between two llamas in some frosty meadow, and we felt pleased with our adventure, all things considered.
We realised a bit late that we had been in such a hurry to go home and warm up we'd neglected to reward our hiking companions, so we very bravely put on new socks and went out in the night to look for the llamas with our phone lights and distribute some muesli. Pirlouit was included in the distribution because he definitely would have crossed the stream with us had he been invited (and told his hay was on the other side.) Also we got a kiss from Poldine so I think she replayed the day's events in her head and came to the conclusion that her mother was, somehow, as always, to blame for all this.
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prentisslvr · 1 day ago
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congrats on 100 followers. i’ve been following since your first spencer fic, checkmate. i absolutely love your writing. could i ask for a spencer reid, with prompt 4 (he’s saying it) and then 8 (with reader saying it)
WHATS MINE IS YOURS
summary; you spill something on your shirt and you borrow spencer’s
genre: fluff, mutual pining, bestfriends to lovers.
prompt; “is that my shirt?” & “stop looking at me like that.”
authors note: i’m not sure if i like this, this was a little rushed but 🤷‍♀️
you had arrived at work in a haste, two cups of freshly made coffee in your hands, one for you, the other for spencer.
which was what you did every morning, but it’d just so happened that today, emily had her intern running around completing tasks, one of them being running right into you, causing you to spill piping hot coffee all over your white top.
you would’ve screamed had it not been for the fact the intern looked like she was going to burst into tears right then and there, so with a strained smile, and a pat on her shoulder you’d made your way back to your car looking around for something to wear.
the only thing being a spencers fresh laundry you’d picked up from the laundromat for him, he woke up pretty early in the morning, but he lived a walk away from the nearest laundromat.
and since you had a car, you grabbed them for him.
he appreciated this greatly, even if it had taken you weeks to convince him to allow you to do it, you lived like five minutes away from the laundromat, he live about fifteen minutes away in a car, probably thirty minutes to walk like he did.
you just liked making things easier, penelope had once said your love language was acts of service, whatever that meant.
you walked into the bullpen in one of his button up shirts, you sigh taking a seat at your desk, the shirt was white with stripes, it wasn’t your usual attire and it drew attention, from almost everyone.
especially the man who owned it, at first, he’d just thought you changed up your style for a moment, but when he really looked, he noticed what you were wearing.
his shirt.
and, god, he was having palpitations, you were in his shirt, and you looked really good.
it was no lie to the entire team, and well, pretty much the world, that whilst you and spencer were best friends, there was something more than that between the two of you.
“is that my shirt?”
your eyes shoot up from your paperwork and you guiltily nod. “i spilt coffee and im not exactly the most prepared person in the world, i had your laundry and—”
“don’t worry about it.” he smiled cutting your little rant off. “what’s mine is yours.”
you sigh thankfully. “thanks spence, you really are a lifesaver.”
as you continued work though, spencer would not stop sending you glances, if it were someone else, you may even have seen a hint of desire in his eyes.
but it was spencer, surely he wouldn’t.
“stop looking at me like that!” you exclaimed, it’d been ten minutes and spencer wouldn’t stop staring at you, granted you’d been looking too, but still.
spencer blinks. “like what?” his ears going red, he’d been caught, but he couldn’t help it, you just looked so good in his shirt, he’d never felt so attracted to you before now.
“nothing, nevermind.” you bite your lip looking down at your work with frown and spencer smiled, he’d tell you one day.
but for now the dr would settle for his stolen glances and making sure he kept a couple spare shirts in case you ever happen to ruin one of your own once again.
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zepskies · 1 day ago
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And I'm SO happy you're back, my lovely Wayne!! Of course, you decide to spoil me with this review the minute you dip back into this hellsite. 😘
(yesss, and don't think I didn't see that chapter you dropped of Polaris! When I get back from my vacay I will be diving into that. I need to know what happens next with our favorite cowboy sheriff 🤠)
I'm very glad and grateful you made the time to start ESC! I had so much fun figuring out Russell Shaw and the Tracker cast -- especially with all them Deanisms. 😏
Diving into the rest of your awesome comments below!! 💕
First of, Professor Goldstein is a piece of work... 😒 I wouldn't blame her for spitting into his coffee every time he calls her sweetheart. But Russell, I see you. She's gonna be so annoyed with him 😂
Oh he's a piece of something, all right. 🙄 She could def pull a Rachel on his ass. And Russell...lmao, you already saw where he's heading with this. 😂
Ooooh, another professor character paired with some rugged Mountain Man 😏 I'm addicted to those couples. She's all business up front, and he's all party in the back (seat of his Chevelle) 🤪
LOLL the way it didn't even occur to me when I was writing this (at first) that I was writing another professor paired with a law enforcement (sort of, in Russell's case), man of action type, like in Take Me Home with Beau Arlen. 😝 I came at it with the thought of, "what if she was Dory's best friend, and they worked together at the university?" I must have a thing for writing nerds who get the rugged, sexy Mountain Man. Not at all fulfilling a personal fantasy.
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UGH. The nerve!!!!! Massage therapist????? How about I step on your back with my high heels, bro... And then to go on about his trip and parasailing... Guess it's true. Ignorant people are happier 😂
Fuck YES, I'd be high-stepping up and down his spine fr. 🤣 Ignorance is bliss, I guess? 🤷🏽‍♀️
Or why are campuses so big in general? My university actually had several faculties strewn throughout the city. Sometimes it took an hour and several subway rides to get to your next lecture 😅
Oooh my God, now THAT's crazy! A whole subway ride(s)?? I've worked/gone to school on some big campuses, but that takes the cake. I guess you get your daily workout one way or another lol!
Please tell me Russell's in the room when she said that 😄🤞
Big YEP lmfaoo, and he likes her already because of it. 😂
Ooooh, right! I wonder how much she knows about the Shaws. Not something that comes casually up in the cafetaria I imagine 😅
No it would not, lmfao! But that is something that will be explored (how much she knows) in the chapters to come, for sure!
Love this whole exchange. You're making my dreams come true, babe 😘
Ahaha I had to do the little callback to sriracha fries (and figure out how tf to spell sriracha, first of all. 😂)
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I keep thinking he probably has that look now because he was in the army for so long. Young Russell was pretty much young Dean Winchester in a uniform (hello there, soldier 😏)
Ooh that's SUCH a good point (and yumm). It's making me hope that we get a flashback of Russell in his military days someday in Tracker.
Well... It's a toss-up, I'd say 😆
Oh, very much a toss up/personal preference there lmao. I've loved Justin Hartley since his Smallville days as Green Arrow. 😆 But in this case, I felt like Russell would try to claim top billing there loll.
In. His. Car 🚩🚩🚩😂 If any strange man said that to you... 🚩🤣
Honestly, it's amazing how many red flags you ignore when someone's charming and handsome. 🤣🤣🤣
Well, at least, Colter has an Airstream 😅🤷‍♀️
Ha!! True, it's beating out Russell's crusty motel of the week by far, I'd say.
He is a professional flirt. Kind eyes...
Oh don't worry, we're getting to that callback. 😏
Dear God, he does not stop, does he? 😆 (On the show, I loved his persistence with Reenie too, even though it was mainly just to annoy Colter. But you captured him beautifully here with this sort of charm 🥰) PS: schmutz, schlep... I love the sprinkles of Yiddish in this 🤓
In fact, he does not! lmfao That was what I loved about it too -- like maybe half of him is serious, and the other half just wants to needle Colter. 🤣
Aw I'm glad you caught that! lol I'm not Jewish, but for some reason it just felt right for these characters. 💜
STOP IT! And he upgraded too!!! 🤣
He absolutely did!! And this time, it actually worked! 🤣🤣
I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS! Gah, this was fabulous! I'm hooked! 😍👏 Are they gonna stay casual? Something about her brooding and reluctance tells me it's not usually her style? Which means, will he eventually settle? Get out of the dangerous hitman-nomad life?
Ooh my goodness, I'm so glad to hear that, friend! You're right. I don't think I full on state it, but "casual" is typically not her style. Also, Russell is Dory's brother, so she doesn't want there to be any weirdness or awkwardness between them if something happened or fell out between the reader and Russell.
She already knows his relationship with Dory is kind of fragile, in that they're still in that "reconnecting" phase. You'll see more of that dynamic and her thoughts in Part 2, but the rest of your questions will most definitely be explored throughout this little series. 😏
And then there's the stories about their respective families. We already know some about Russell's. How is she gonna react if she learns everything? And there's something odd about her private life as well. Can't wait to dive into that bombshell 😂
There's a lot to unpack there, right? There's a great deal that she already knows through Dory, and some things that are going to be revealed along the way...
Zep, my sweet genius Alex, you've outdone yourself once again. Bravo!!! 👏👏👏
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You make me blush!! Thank you so much. 😭🥰 If you like this chapter, then I think you're going to enjoy the rest of the series. I hope it's as fun for you to read as it was for me to write!! 💕💕
A Line and a Half
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Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader
Summary: When Dory’s eldest brother comes to visit her at Wyoming University, you don’t know quite what to make of Russell Shaw. But he knows exactly what he wants to make of you.
AN: Okay, here’s my first toe-dip into the world of Tracker with Russell Shaw! 1x12 gave me too many ideas not to explore this intriguing character. This is set before episode 12, but I have a little series I want to sketch out that will continue after this one-shot, so think of this as a “Part 1,” if you will. 😉
Word Count: 3.2K
Tags/Warnings: A kind of “meet cute,” attempts at flirting, and hints of setup for more to come…
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You watched, silently simmering, as Dr. Goldstein added yet another packet of internship applications from his graduate students onto your desk.
Applicants that he, as the History Department Chairman, was supposed to review himself. Instead, he’d been adding these hours quite literally onto your desk. 
“If you could review these for me as well, sweetheart. Thank you,” he said. “Get ‘em back to me by Thursday, okay?”
As a Professor of History with two doctorates in your name, you once again grated internally at sweetheart, but you tried to keep that cringe off your face as well.
Goldstein barely even met your eyes when he dropped off his burden, and then aimed to leave your office.
“Uh, Paul,” you called out, raising a finger. You stood from your desk as quickly as you could in your pencil skirt, but the man was already out the door. You followed him out, your heels clacking on the tile floor. 
Damn it. Knew I should’ve gone with pants, you said, continuing to hasten after your boss.
“Paul! Just a second,” you said. That finally managed to turn the man’s head off of his phone. He glanced at you while checking his watch.
“About the internship applications…and your midterm exam essays for that matter. Don’t you think—” you started to say, but the man spoke over you.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to run. Meeting my massage therapist at noon,” he said, and rolled a seemingly stiff shoulder under his tailored blazer. “Something’s just not right here after my trip to Cali last weekend. I don’t know what I did, pulled muscle or something. But hey, they do say parasailing is a sport.”
You quirked a brow. “Do they?”
You weren’t sure that being strapped into a parachute for a nice air glide over the Pacific counted as a sport.
Goldstein shrugged at your question and he kept walking down the hall. Though he turned back to toss you a pointed finger.
“Need those by Thursday. Thanks, you’re the best,” he said.
You watched him go, as proverbial steam began to escape through your ears. Slowly you pivoted on your heels, and you went back to your office. You grimaced at the large stack of applications. You were pretty sure he padded them with an extra section of midterm exams.
Tapping your nails on your desk, you grabbed your phone next to your desktop and checked the time. 11:30 a.m.
Screw it. I’m going to lunch, you thought.
Dory had to be out of her Intro Physics class by now, which meant she’d be in her office, ready for you to drop in on her a little early. You took up your purse and almost made it out the door…but at the last moment, your anal brain made you turn back to grab a shoulder bag and the pile of applications. Maybe you could knock out a few during lunch.
Friggin’ doormat, as your brother would say. Laughing at you, probably.
You rolled your eyes and headed back out the door with your haul of papers, purse, work bag, and keys, locking your office behind you.
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Why, oh why did the Sciences building have to be on the other side of campus?
It was damn near a mile walk from your Humanities building over to Dory’s office on the second floor. Your hands were laden with packets that couldn’t be contained by your heavy work bag, your purse was slipping off your shoulder, and these heels were killing your feet.
It was a miracle you and Dory had ever met on this campus. On your first day of teaching, you’d of course been hopelessly lost. Somehow you ended up at the tail-end of one of her classes in one of the science auditoriums.
She’d been gracious enough to help you, and even walked you all the way to the Humanities building so you could find your World History class before the students decided to just get up and leave. (And after fifteen minutes, they very well would.)
That day, she became your first real friend at Wyoming University. In the three years since, she’d become your best friend.
And now, her door was mercifully open halfway. You pushed it open and stumbled just a little from the transition of tile to carpet inside her office. Your papers nearly flew from your hands, so you struggled to right yourself and contain them all back into the semblance of neatness.
“Hey, girl. You better be ready for lunch because Jesus fucking Christ. Goldstein’s up my ass again and all I’ve had today is a crusty donut from the teacher’s lounge, which I’m pretty sure was stale,” you said, with your brows furrowed in frustration.
When you finally looked up from your struggles, you realized that Dory wasn’t alone. She smiled at you in amusement, sitting at her desk beside a man who made you pause. Your eyes widened.
He was leaning casually with an elbow propped up on her desk, dressed in jeans and a worn, pale green jacket—a good match for his eyes. He looked a little rugged for Dory’s tastes, but you couldn’t fault her, with the cut of that bearded jaw, and the smile raising the corners of his lips.
“Hey,” Dory laughed. “I see you’re having a good day.”
You bit your lip in embarrassment, probably smudging your lipstick.
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve knocked first,” you said, though you could see she seemed to be having an actual good day. Office picnic? Or maybe the handsome stranger was getting ready to take her out.
Dory just waved you in. She stood and set a hand on her companion’s shoulder, and he got up along with her.
“It’s okay. This is my brother, Russell,” she said, and she introduced you in kind.
“Well, hi there,” he said. He subtly took you in with his eyes as he held out his hand. Already you felt your face heating up with more than just embarrassment.
You were a bit shocked as well, to say the least. Dory had told you some…interesting things about her family, including the fact that she had two older brothers. You wondered which one this was, the middle child, or the eldest.
“Hi! Sorry. Again. Nice to meet you,” you said. You tried to hold your hand out to reach his, but a few papers began to spill out. You clutched at them on reflex, but Russell drew in quickly to help you.
“Got yourself a load there,” he said. You agreed with an awkward laugh and a shrug of your shoulders.
“My boss’s idea of extra credit,” you said wryly.
“You can set it down on that chair over there,” Dory said, pointing to one against the back wall, next to a tall filing cabinet.
You and Russell meandered over and managed to set down the stack without casualty. You were able to pull up the straps of your bag and your purse from falling off your shoulder and give him a grateful look.
“Thanks,” you said.
“No problem,” he said, giving you an easy smile back. “I actually crashed in unannounced, so if you two wanna to head to lunch, you go right ahead.”
“Uh, no. I haven’t seen you in months! You should come with us,” Dory said. She grabbed her purse to join you and Russell by the door.
You raised your hands in placation. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, especially if it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other. You guys should catch up.”
Dory shook her head and grabbed your hand.
“Uh, uh. I want to hear the latest on Paul’s bullshit, and why you’re carrying half your office across campus. Let’s go,” she said, and gestured at your work bag. “Leave that here. You’re gonna eat and talk to me. No working involved.”
You laughed, but you agreed to her cajoling. With another glance at her brother, and those green eyes that seemed to be dancing, you joined them for lunch.
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The three of you ended up at a diner that you and Dory frequented at least once a week. The food was good, the service was quick, and it was close to campus. Wins all around. Russell seemed to be enjoying himself, as he hummed in delight after the very first bite of his Philly cheesesteak.
“Sriracha on fries, huh?” you remarked, gesturing at the man’s plate. Your brow was quirked, but he shot you a smile.
“I said avert your eyes,” he teased. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, sweetheart.”
Ugh. Another sweethearting man. You narrowed your own eyes at him a bit. He caught the look and raised a hand in defense (the one that wasn’t holding his cheesesteak).
“Uh oh. What’d I do?” he asked.
“You gave her some PTSD,” Dory said with a laugh. “Dr. Goldstein likes to sugar coat his demands with sexism.”
Russell noted your souring look with apology. You’d just finished recounting your morning for your friend, and recapping years of “sugar-coated demands” for Russell.
“Why don’t you just tell him to cram it up his…uh…” he paused. Seeing his little sister’s look of amusement, he amended. “Or you know, stuff it.”
A smile twitched at your lips. “Oh, believe me, I’d love to tell him to stuff it. But he’s technically my boss, and the department chair. Even though I’ve basically been doing his job for two years now.”
“Well, that sucks,” Russell said. “And I feel for ya. I’ve had my share of shitty bosses in my time.”
You sighed and accepted his commiseration with a nod.
It wasn’t fair, but Goldstein planned to retire early in a few years. Must be nice.
When he did, it would make you the most likely candidate to replace him as department chair. The way you saw it, this was giving you plenty of practice before you (hopefully) inherited the position.
Anyway, you shook your head. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You were more curious about one Russell Shaw. You now knew he was an army vet, and he carried himself like one. Calm, controlled, even though his smiles came easy. His tousled hair and beard, while well-trimmed and neat, still gave him a roguish quality.
“So let me guess. You’re…the eldest?” you asked. You blotted at your mouth with a napkin, having finished your chicken panini.
Russell treated you to another one of those smiles, though this one held a hint of more.
“Guilty. Though I’m the handsome one,” he said with a wink.
You found yourself smiling behind your napkin.
“I’m sure,” you replied.
Dory rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind him. Apparently my brother’s an incorrigible flirt.”
He chuckled and sipped at his beer, but then he grimaced.
“Ech. Friggin’ weak,” he said. “I brew better than this outta the trunk of my car.”
 You raised a brow at that. “You make your own beer?”
“Damn straight,” he said. His gaze turned a hint more playful. “Next time I’ll bring you some. You can tell me what you think.”
You shared a telling look with Dory.
“Next time, huh?” you asked.
“Sure,” he inclined his head. “I pop into town from time to time. Gotta check in and pester my little sister, the physics professor.” 
He laid a hand on Dory’s shoulder, squeezing warmly. You could see the pride in his eyes, and it warmed you as well.
She turned to him with a smile, reaching up to cover his hand with hers.
“You don’t pester me. I’d love it if I got to see you more often,” she said.
“Ah, I know, I’m sorry,” he said, releasing her. “My job’s got me all over the place. But I’ll be here for a week or so on this gig.”
That intrigued you. “What do you do for work?”
“Ah, well, you could say I'm a contractor. Private security mainly,” said Russell. His shoulders shifted as he became a little more guarded, you noticed. “My company connects me with the client for as long as the job lasts. Could be a few months, sometimes a few days, depending.”
“Oh, wow. Do you live here in Wyoming?” you asked. He paused, but tilted his head a little, back and forth as he considered your question.
“I kinda bounce around,” he said. “Just go from one job to the next. Sounds a bit unorthodox, I know, but it’s a living.”
“Interesting,” you nodded, but inside, you thought that sounded like a hard way to live.
Unstable…and lonely. 
“You know, it’s amazing how much you and Colter have in common,” Dory said. She folded her hands on the table and met her brother with a pointed look.
He huffed in response, though he glanced at you, then back at his sister. As if he was saying, You really want to do this now?
Dory had told you before that Colter was a “rewardist,” or some kind of bounty hunter. The nature of his work kept him busy, and seemingly too busy for his sister. But you also sensed there was an edgier history here.
For the first time, you felt like you were intruding in a moment between brother and sister that went beyond words.
After a moment, Russell shook his head.
“Look, I tried with him, all right? He won’t talk to me,” he said. He went back to eating, polishing off his fries. He offered you one that was half-smothered in sriracha.
“Come on. Live on the edge with me,” he teased.
You eyed the sauce-covered fry in distaste, but after glancing up at his more playful smile, you accepted his offer. You chewed in contemplation, and found that the tangy hint of kick wasn’t so bad. 
“Eh? Eeeh? Delicious, am I right?” he said, his hands going wide.
You rolled your eyes, but you nodded in agreement.
“It’s all right,” you replied.
“Yes!” Russell’s hands swept up higher, like he was celebrating a touchdown. "See, I told ya."
You couldn’t help but laugh. Dory shook her head fondly and gave him a clean napkin for the bit of schmutz she spotted at the corner of his mouth.
“Here, wipe your sriracha face.”
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“You really don’t have to,” you said, as Russell helped you gather your stack of papers and slung your work bag over his shoulder.
“No, no. I’m a bonafide gentleman. Ain’t that right, D?” he asked his sister. She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, but she did give you a knowing smile.
“Oh, his intentions are pure,” she said.
 And by that, you both understood her meaning. His intentions couldn’t be any clearer than a mallet over the head, but you kind of found it endearing.
This man really carried your stuff from the Sciences building across the entire campus to your office. All the while, he asked you about how you and Dory met, the kinds of things you two did together, and if you thought she was happy working here.
You had a feeling he was trying to learn more about his sister’s life. On one hand, it was rather sweet. On the other, it made you realize that there was distance in this family, both literal and figurative. You were glad to hear that Russell, at least, was trying to bridge that gap with his sister. Dory deserved to have more of that in her life.
As you explained to Russell while you led him down the hall to your office, your friendship with her had just…clicked. From the very beginning.
“Dory, you know. She’s more than kind,” you said. “She’s a real one. I can rely on her, even when I can’t rely on my own family.”
Russell hummed at that. “That sounds like a story.”
“Yeah,” you said, glancing away for a moment. You smiled and met his gaze once more. “Maybe one for another time.”
“So you’re on board with a ‘next time.’ Good to know,” Russell remarked. Your smile deepened.
It was good timing when you two finally reached your office. You unlocked it and let him inside, so he could set down your bag, and the god-forsaken stack of internship applications back onto your desk. You’d probably be stuck here working late on those.
“Well, thank you so much. You really didn’t have to schlep for me,” you said.
When you turned, Russell was a bit close. Not uncomfortably so, but enough to make a trill of something zip up your spine. You smelled more intensely his cologne, woodsy and warm. Looking up at him, you once again found his smile.
“It’s no problem,” he said, but his eyes met yours for a moment, as if he lost his train of thought.
“What?” you asked, a bit nervous.
“Anybody ever tell you, you got soulful eyes?” he asked.
It took your brain a second or two to compute, but when his words registered, you had to laugh. You held it behind your hand, while the other went to steady yourself on your desk.
 “Well, that’s a line if I’ve ever heard one,” you said, shading your “soulful” eyes with a hand.
You didn’t know it, but Russell’s face warmed in slight embarrassment. He recovered though, taking in your pretty laugh, and the shade of your hair, let loose around your shoulders, and yes, your eyes, when you let him see them again.
If he hadn’t known before, now he was convinced.
He wanted to see more of you before he left town.
“Hey, now that was 100% genuine,” Russell said, but his grin spoke volumes. When your mirth died down, he scratched the back of his head.
“Okay, cards on the table. Would you be interested in grabbing a drink with me sometime?” he asked.
You took in a breath at that. You actually did consider his offer, because homebrew and sriracha fries be damned, there was something more to him. It was lying in wait, behind those eyes that were drawing you in.
However, this was also a man whose job basically made him a nomad. It didn’t exactly scream relationship material.
Which only left the alternative: something…casual.
You just didn’t know if that alternative was such a good idea. Not with your best friend’s brother.
“Just a drink. No frills, no more grilling you about my sister,” Russell said, breaking you from your deliberation. He gestured a hand between the two of you. “Just this. You and me.”
Eventually, you sighed. Your lips raised into a more genuine smile.
“Sometime, huh?” you asked.
He smiled back. “Tonight?”
You hesitated, but despite your better judgment, you nodded before you could change your mind. You still weren’t sure what to make of this guy, but you were willing to find out.
“Sure,” you said. “Howley’s at eight?”
“Well, all right,” Russell said.
He surprised you by sweeping up your hand into his. You looked up at him, curious, but not wary. Anticipation tingled down your spine.
He pressed his lips to the back of your hand. Soft shock made your eyes widen as you blushed, feeling the subtle graze of his beard against your skin.
Who is this guy, Cary Grant? you thought.
But when he pulled away, you had to remind yourself to breathe. Again, you caught sight of his cheeky grin.   
“See you tonight,” he said.
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AN: He is beauty he is grace, he is Mr. Sriracha Face. 😆
Let me know if you guys liked this! 💜 It's my first time writing a character based solely on one episode, but next up is a series that will continue this one-shot. It's called Every Second Counts.
Next Time in Part 1:
“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 
You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still on the Wyoming University campus after your last class.
Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.
“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.
▶️ Keep Reading: Part 1
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
Russell Shaw Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Russell S. Tag List:
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007
@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373
@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum
@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady
@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy
@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad
@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73
@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj
@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways
@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato
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monstersflashlight · 3 days ago
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Patreon Commission for Elise
Request: Basically the reader is the CEO of some big/famous business and has a crush on her secretary but docent think that he likes her. So one day the Readers Sister come to the office for a visit and they are talking in the readers office and her secretary needs to drop off some important papers and over hears their conversation. So then he knocks on the door and acts like he didn’t hear the conversation. Reader’s sister says high and the reader notices how they interact together. So when the Readers secretary leaves the Reader is like “hey I think that you guys would look good together. He totally likes you.” Kinda stuff. And the sister is confused but docent really think much about it. So the Readers sister is staying in town for their friends wedding or something so the sister is always at the office. One day the Secretary decides to ask the Readers sister for help to get with the Reader. And that’s all I got.
A/N: This was so much fun to write, they are so in love with each other, totally would write more of them. This is kind of soft in a hot way, enjoy!
The CEO's minotaur
Minotaur x chubby fem!reader || semi-public sex, heavy making out, office sex
Your sister is in town after a very long time, and you had missed her so much, but right now, with her nagging at you about not acting on your feelings for your hot minotaur secretary… you aren’t so sure about missing her. (That’s a lie, you totally missed her, but dang if it doesn’t annoy you to be told you are stupid).
“Come on, you need to tell him, see if he feels the same way,” she’s saying. She’s told you that at least three times before in the past couple of days, but you still refuse to believe her. What has a hot minotaur to do with his human boss? Nothing.
“Stop it, you know he doesn’t like me that way,” you try to argue for what feels like the thousandth time. “He’s too goo-” You hear a knock on the door and shut up instantly, motioning your sister to be quiet, too. “Come in.” Said minotaur enters the room making you sigh in pent up frustration. His big form looks extra good today, and it does nothing to make you feel any less intense about him.
“I need you to sing these papers, ma'am,” his tone is so formal, and he keeps sending side looks to your sister as she tries to repress her laughter.
“Yes, sure, come here.” You sign the papers he puts on your desk as you tell him: “I’ve told you repeatedly not to call me ma’am, just use my name.”
“Okay…” He says, but you know he’s going to do it again. It almost feels like he likes to call you that, like it gives him some sort of satisfaction to act so proper around you. But that can’t be, right? There’s no way.
You exchange a few more words as he tells you about the calls and schedule for the rest of the day. You give him a list of a few things you need him to do as he smiles, a soft blush covering his cheeks and making you press your tights together. Fuck, you need to get it together.
When he leaves you look at your sister, who is covering her mouth with her hand trying to repress the giggles you bet she’s holding. “Don’t,” you warn her, already anticipating what she’s going to say.
She shuts her mouth but smiles brightly at you, changing topics. A while later, when your lunch break is over and your sister is leaving, she says: “For the record, he totally likes you.” She closes the door just in time to avoid the paper-clip you throw her way, her laughter heard even across the closed door.
Your sister stays in town a few more days, dropping by your office to have lunch with you every single day, saying it’s not always that she can spend time with her CEO sister in her important job. You laugh it out, but you are secretly glad she spends time with you every time she comes to the city. You miss her like crazy when she’s not there, and calls just aren’t the same.
That’s how you are about to round the corner when you hear her voice, talking to someone who shows up in your dreams way too often. “Then how do I approach her?” Your secretary says with a soft tone that makes goosebumps erupt on your skin.
“Just tell her you like her!” Your sister whisper-shouts. She was never good at being subtle.
“But- But… She doesn’t like me back. She’s my boss, and so good. She’s so pretty and powerful, and her aura is so sexy at the same time as kind… And I’m just a minotaur.” You hate the self-depreciation words coming out of his mouth. You want to scream at him that he’s wrong. That you are head over heels for him. Then he says: “She’s just so much better than me,” and you had enough.
You turn the corner and stare at his stunned face. “You are wrong,” you tell him.
Your sister is smiling so big you want to be annoyed with her, but you just can’t. Thanks to her you were able to hear him say those things about you. Fuck, she’s going to hold that over you forever, isn’t she? But at that moment you don’t even care. You just care about his sweet face all blushed in the prettiest shade of brown as he looks at you with big eyes and the hint of a smile.
“I’m going to take that as my cue to leave, have fun you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” She tells as she almost runs to the elevator.
You two stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. You scan his form, his proper clothes and soft fur, the way his horns are so big they almost reach the ceiling, the sweet smile that’s spreading across his features as he registers your flushed face. You don’t know who moves first, but before you can process it, you two are in each other personal space, and he’s looking at you intently.
“Can I kiss you?” You don’t even respond, grabbing his horns and pulling him down to devour his mouth in the most hot kiss you’ve ever given (or received).
You make out like teenagers, his hands all over your body as yours explore his. It’s intoxicating to finally be able to kiss him like that, to be able to touch him the way you’ve been waiting for so fucking long. He’s driving you insane in the best way possible and, judging by his moans, he’s no better.
“I need you, I need you, I need you,” you chant against his lips, pushing him softly to your office.
He hauls you up and your legs come around his waist. He walks you to your desk and sits you over it, doing the whole wiping-everything-off-the-table thing, the most cliche move of all times. You giggle as he kisses down your neck, his horns right in front of your face as you grab them to control his movements a bit more. You pull him up and devour his mouth again.
“I’ve wanted you for so long, I’m so fucking gone for you,” he whispers against your lips, his hands cupping your boobs over the fabric of your clothes as you moan. You can’t even tell him you feel the same way, your brain is foggy with desire as you palm the huge erection inside his pants.
“Take me, then. Make me yours,” you ask softly.
“Yes, ma’am,” he tells you with a smirk. You kiss him again, your hands working on his clothes to open them. You think some of the buttons of his shirt fly away, but you can’t care less.
He moves you enough to get your pants off your legs, ripping your underwear as you gasp. His strength turning you on so much you want to scream his name, but instead, you bite his neck to avoid making too much noise. You can’t forget you aren’t alone in the office, the other’s cubicles might be a few hallways away, but if you let out all the noise you want, they will definitely hear, and that wouldn’t be too professional of the CEO of the company.
He apparently can read your mind, because he whispers against your ear: “One of these days I’m going to hear your sweet lips screaming my name as I pound into you,” you groan at his words.
His fingers find your needy hole, pushing one inside without preamble as he starts finger-fucking you into a mess of arousal and pent up frustration. His thumb is on your clit when the second finger enters you, making you move your hips to ride his hand. He hums in contentment, urging you to move faster, to get all your pleasure off him.
“I need you, can I… Can I fuck you?” You take a second to process his words, your brain lost in pleasure to what his hand is doing.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you agree vehemently as he chuckles, taking his fingers away from your dripping cunt and spreading your juices over his dick. When you look down to see, you have to swallow a gasp at the sheer size of him. “You are so big,” you let out without wanting to, covering your mouth in embarrassment.
He chuckles again, caressing your cheek and kissing the tip of your nose. “Don’t worry, ma’am, it will fit.” You don’t doubt his words, seeing as you are fucking drenched with desire.
When you feel the tip of his cock against your pussy, you throw your head back, moaning like a whore as the tapered head breaches you. He breathes hard against your neck, his panting making everything hotter. He keeps pushing and pushing and pushing until he’s so deep inside you can almost taste it in the back of your throat.
Your fucking is frantic and desperate. You kiss each other with such desperation that you end up panting against each other mouth’s. It’s so hot and needy, is the climax of so much pent up sexual tension between you two that your orgasm catches you off guard.
“I’m about to…” You don’t finish the phrase before your body is convulsing and your pussy is fluttering around his girth as he curses loudly.
You bury your face in his neck to muffle your sounds as you come apart in his arms, the pleasure so high it’s almost blinding. He follows you over the edge not three thrusts after, and the feel of his come painting your insides is enough to send you over a second orgasm. You bite down on his neck muscles hard, making him groan and shot another load into your tingling pussy.
“Fuck,” you breathe out when your heart slows down a bit.
“Give me a few minutes,” he jokes, making you giggle.
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tortillamastersblog · 2 days ago
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Back To You - Part 3 | Sam Carpenter
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Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader
Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing
Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.
Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .
Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist
_______________________________________________
“I’ve got a body outside a bar on Main, and then you get attacked here.” Sheriff Hicks almost sounds accusing as she looks at Sam while speaking. “You said the call came from Amber’s number?”
Sam nods faintly, a distant look in her eyes. She’s been like this ever since she and Richie came back into Tara’s room, and even though I know I shouldn’t be, I’m worried.
Not only did she almost get killed, she’s also got something on her mind that’s upsetting her. I know because she’s got that telltale crinkle of hers in her eyebrows.
“So?” Amber pipes up next to me. She came in a couple of minutes ago with Sheriff Hicks. “We know he called on my phone before when he attacked Tara.”
True, but it’s still a little weird. Why wouldn’t he just use a burner phone to make the calls?
I glance at Tara to see what she thinks about all this, but she’s just looking back and forth between Amber and Hicks, fear and uncertainty written all over her face. First she was attacked and now Sam.
Who’s going to be next?
“Or, and I’m just spit-balling here. . . You’re the killer,” Richie says and even though I neither like, nor trust him, I have to admit, he’s got a point.
Offended, Amber crosses her arms and stares at him incredulously. She looks like she’s about to say something to defend herself, but then Sheriff Hicks beats her to it.
She turns to him and narrows her eyes. “And where were you wenn all of this happened?”
Richie falters slightly and I can see him tighten his grip around Sam’s hand which he’s been holding ever since they came in. “I was. . . watching Netflix.”
I roll my eyes and sigh. Of course he was, how convenient. . .
Seemingly reading my mind, Amber scoffs and says, “Ooh, yeah. Super solid alibi, bro.”
“So, where were you?” He fires back. Then, he looks at me with raised eyebrows. “And what about you? Hmm? You just so happened to walk around the corner right after Sam was attacked?”
I stiffen and it takes everything in me not to walk around Tara’s bed and slap him. How dare he? I would never try to hurt Sam, or Tara for that matter. I can barely even kill bugs because I feel sorry for them, so how could I possibly hurt another human being like that?
“Excuse me?” My voice is low and dangerous and the only thing that stops me from snapping is Tara who grabs a hold of my sleeve. “How would I even do that? I’m injured, and I literally just got back to the hospital.”
Richie snorts. “So you say, but you wouldn’t be the first psychotic killer to fake getting hurt to divert suspicion from yourself.”
Fury pulses through my veins, but I don’t move or speak. Tara’s grip on my sleeve tightens and much to my relief, Sheriff Hicks comes to my defense while Sam continues to stare vacantly at a spot on the opposite wall.
“It wasn’t Y/N, or Amber,” she states. “Surveillance footage shows Y/N entering the hospital during the time of the attack, and it was’t Amber because I was questioning her and her friends at the sheriff’s station.”
I give her a thankful nod and place my hand over Tara’s, silently telling her that I’m not going to lash out.
“Yeah,” Amber says, leveling Richie with a glare. “I came as soon as I heard, but, you know, the Netflix alibi is good, too.”
I must admit, Amber and I never really clicked for whatever reason, but right now, she’s my favorite person.
Sheriff Hicks lets out an exasperated sigh and hands Amber her phone back. “Okay, both of you, stop it.”
“You’re going to put more cops on her room, right?”Sam’s voice takes me by surprise.
Tara glances at her sister and then back Hicks while Amber and Richie continue glaring at each other.
“Yes.” The sheriff’s face softens. “And I can move you to a private floor. Deputy Vinson knows what he’s doing, you’ll be safe.”
That last part seems to have been the wrong thing to say because Sam bristles. “Like we’ve been so far?”
Oh dear. . .
The air in the room shifts and I bite the inside of my cheek, waiting for Sheriff Hicks’s reaction.
I know Sam can be short tempered and people usually dismiss it, but I fear this time she might have crossed a line. Sheriff Hicks is only trying to help, and Sam questioning said help isn’t doing anyone any good.
“Samantha, let’s step outside.” The tight lipped smile on the sheriff’s face makes me cringe and be thankful I’m not on the receiving end of it.
Sam clenches her jaw and looks at all of us for a moment before getting up and leaving the room with Sheriff Hicks.
Not even a minute later she returns, alone, and stands by the open door with a defeated look on her face. “Well, she remains a delight. . .”
I can’t help the way my lips twitch in slight amusement, and when Sam’s eyes meet mine, a bitter sweet smile briefly tugs at her lips.
“Are you okay?” Tara asks, putting an end to our little . . . moment?
Sam’s eyes dart to Richie, Amber, and then back to me. “Uh, actually. Would you mind giving us a second? I need to talk to Tara.”
“Of course,” I say quietly, squeezing Tara’s hand reassuringly. “I’ll be outside if you need anything.”
She smiles softly and let’s go of my sleeve, watching Amber, Richie and me file out of the room before Sam closes the door behind us.
“So, you’re a fan of the Hawks?” Deputy Vinson asks when I run into him outside the bathroom.
“What? Oh.” I look down when he points at my hockey sweater. “Yes, kind of. I’m on the team.”
“Really?” He smiles.
“Yeah, but I don’t play professionally yet because I’m currently working on getting my Masters degree,” I explain.
Vinson lets out an impressed whistle. “Nice. So, you’re planning on playing professionally once you’re done?”
I shrug. “That’s the plan, yes, but we’ll see what happens.”
He nods and smiles. “Good for you.”
“Thanks.” I smile back and point my thumb over my shoulder. “I should go. Tara might need something and I think I forgot my phone in her room.”
He nods again and ushers me to get going. I chuckle and turn to leave, feeling my smile drop a moment later when I round the corner and see Richie standing at the door to Tara’s room, clearly listening to what’s being said inside.
“Hey!”
He flinches and steps away from the door, his eyes widening when he sees me.
“What are you doing? Are you eavesdropping?” I know the question is unnecessary, because he clearly is, but I want to make him squirm.
He takes another step back and raises his hands defensively. “What? No, of course not.”
I continue walking toward him, closing the distance between us until we’re almost toe to toe. We’re the same height, so I can’t say I’m looking down when I level him with a challenging stare, yet he seems to be shrinking in on himself the longer I stare at him.
“I was just— I wasn’t,” he stutters, trying to explain himself, but then a shout from inside the room cuts him off.
“Get the fuck out!”
Tara.
A second later the door opens and Sam comes out with tears streaming down her face. She winces when she sees Richie and me and quickly wipes at her eyes while trying to suppress a sob.
What happened in there?
The look on her face and the tears in her eyes remind me of the night eleven years ago when she snuck into my room. I still don’t know why she did it back then, but I have a feeling it’s related to whatever just happened between her and Tara.
Unlike that night eleven years ago though, I don’t make a move to comfort her. Not necessarily because I don’t want to, I do and don’t at the same time, but because Richie beats me to it.
He pulls Sam into a hug and looks at me over her shoulder, daring me to continue my interrogation from before. And even though I would love to do nothing more than just that, I drop it and slip into the room.
If Sam is this upset, there’s a good chance Tara’s not doing any better either, and when I see her, sitting in her bed with her own tears streaming down her cheeks, I’m proven right.
I close the door behind me and quickly make my way to the bed, sitting down next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” I whisper when she moves closer and buries her face in my shoulder. “You’ll be okay.”
“No. . .” She whimpers and hugs my waist. “Sam. . . She- She—“
“You don’t have to tell me what happened.” I cut her off, but she shakes her head.
“N-No, I do. You have to know,” she says, her voice muffled by our embrace.
I raise an eyebrow even though she can’t see it and ask, “Know what?”
Tara shudders and tightens her arms around me. “Billy Loomis is Sam’s real dad.“
Five years ago
“There you go, buddy. Sleep tight.” I laugh when Liam groans and buries his face in his pillow. He called me half an hour ago to pick him up from a party because Paige is sleeping at her girlfriend’s tonight and he didn’t want to bother her.
“Thank youuu, I love you,” he slurs and I just pat him on the back.
“I love you, too, dude.“ I go to the kitchen and fill a glass of water before returning to his room and placing it on his nightstand next to some painkillers. “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” he mumbles again and then he’s out like a light.
I leave the apartment, locking the front door, and get into my car to start the short drive home.
It’s almost one in the morning, and I’m exhausted, but I’m glad Liam called me instead of driving home himself.
Yes it’s late, and yes, I’m tired, but I couldn’t have lived with myself if anything had happened to him if he’d gotten into his car, drunk, and gotten into an accident.
My parents woke up when I was on my way out, asking where I was going and when I told them, they simply told me to drive safely before going back to bed.
Now, I’m almost back home, and I can practically already feel the warm embrace of my bed again, but then I spot something that makes my heart stop.
Stumbling along the side walk with a man hot on her heels is Sam. The man keeps grabbing her arm, saying something, and she keeps brushing him off, obviously uncomfortable.
Her movements are uncoordinated and I hate the fact that I know why.
She’s high again.
Without thinking, I drive past them and pull over, stopping the car on the side walk right in front of them.
“Hey! Take a hike, dude,” I say, getting out of the car.
Sam and the man both come to a halt and stare at me. Sam barely even registers what’s going on, her glassy eyes staring right through me while the man scoffs and steps up to me.
“Mind your own business,” he growls. He seems to be in his thirties, has a buzz cut, and has a tattoo of a tiny rose on his temple.
“Sorry— No can do, pal,” I say calmly, trying not to cringe at the smell of alcohol on his breath. “She’s my friend, and you’re bothering her, so leave.”
“Or what?” he asks, smirking and revealing his chipped front tooth.
I sigh. “Or we’re going to have a problem.”
“Yeah?” He laughs and shoves me slightly. “What are you going to do, kid? Hmm? Call your parents? Or—“
My fist connects with his jaw, and a second later he’s on the ground, unconscious.
Was that a bit of an overreaction? Maybe. But did he deserve it? Definitely.
“Y/N!” Sam gapes at me. “W-What did you do?”
Even though she’s high, she doesn’t seem to have lost all of her ability to think straight. She sways on her feet and goes to crouch down next to the man, but I wrap my arms around her waist from behind and pull her back up.
“Come on, let’s get you home,” I say. She smells like alcohol, too, and I don’t even want to imagine the amount of drugs and alcohol she’s consumed tonight.
“No,” she slurs, weakly clawing at my arms. “I don’t— I don’t wanna go home. I wanna go— I wanna go with Josh.”
“Josh?” I ask. “You know that guy?”
“No— I mean, yes a little. He bought me a drink and—”
“He was trying to take advantage of you!” I argue, not letting go of her.
“No, he wasn’t!” she shouts and I cringe, hoping no one wakes up and looks out of their window because of her.
We’re in a quiet neighborhood, and I’m almost certain if someone saw us right now, they’d call the cops because they think I’m trying to kidnap her.
And I wouldn’t even blame them for it, because it definitely looks like it, but I’m really just trying to help.
This isn’t the first time I’ve taken her home after finding her high, and even though I’m used to the protest she puts up, the next thing she says catches me off guard.
“You always ruin everything, Y/N!”
I freeze and try not to let it get to my head, but her words tug at my heart painfully.
She doesn’t mean it. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.
I swallow the growing lump in my throat and loosen my hold on her a little. “Come on, Sam. I don’t want to fight. Just get in the car.”
Much to my surprise, a moment later, the fight leaves her body and she wordlessly let’s me lead her to the car.
I open the passenger door and help her in, making sure to put her seatbelt on before closing the door again and rounding the front of the car to get to the driver’s side.
As I open the door, the man, Josh, starts to regain consciousness. He groans and twists on the ground, making me roll my eyes.
Pathetic.
I know he’ll be fine since I didn’t hit him that hard, so I get in the car and pull back onto the road, leaving him behind just as he’s getting back up.
“I hate you,” Sam whispers a minute later. Her voice sounds clearer than before and the venom lacing her words makes me believe she actually means it.
She’s said it before, especially the first few times I picked her up from a party, but she’s never said it like this before.
It’s okay. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she’s safe.
There’s a big chance she won’t even remember saying it tomorrow morning, but I know I will.
Neither one of us says anything else while I drive until I pull up next to the curb by our houses.
Seeing Christina Carpenter’s car in Sam’s driveway, I figure it’s not the best idea to drag her up to their front door and ring the doorbell, so I take her to my house after helping her out of the car.
She’s back to being completely high, head lolling from side to side and steps totally uncoordinated, so as soon as we get inside, I pick her up and carry her up to my room.
I expected her to protest, to tell me to put her down immediately, but she doesn’t. Instead she wraps her arms around my neck and holds onto me while I carry her.
“Alright, here we go,” I whisper when we make it to my room. I’m not afraid of waking my parents because they’d understand why I brought Sam here instead of taking her home, but I don’t want them to worry, so I try to stay as quiet as possible.
It turns out, opening a door with a whole ass person in my arms is more of a challenge than I thought, but I eventually manage to get it open, stepping inside and closing it behind us again with a soft click.
“‘M tired,” Sam mumbles, her fingers curling around the fabric of my jacket.
“Yeah, I bet,” I say quietly, feeling my own exhaustion wash over me. “Just a little longer, then you can sleep.”
I gently place her on the bed and take off her shoes before pulling the comforter out from underneath her.
“Do you need anything else? Something to drink? A sweater,” I ask, but Sam doesn’t answer. She has her eyes closed and it looks like she’s already asleep. When I move to sleep on my couch on the other side of the room though, her hand shoots out and she grabs my wrist.
“Just you.”
I hesitate and try to ignore the way my skin tingles where she’s touching me.
I hate you.
The memory of her words stings and makes my heart ache, but then she opens her eyes and looks at me pleadingly.
It’s the kind of look she always uses when she wants something from me, so a moment later, I cave and slowly slip into bed next to her.
“Thank you,” she whispers and the sincerity with which she says it makes tears well up in my eyes.
First she says she hates me, then she asks me to sleep in the same bed with her.
I’m so confused and exhausted, it hurts, and I don’t know how much longer I can endure this emotional roller coaster.
She changed after that night six years ago when she snuck into my room, and at first I thought it was just a phase, but then her dad left and as time went on, she pulled away more and more, avoiding me until, eventually, she started drinking and doing drugs.
There are moments where her old self shines through, like last week, when we had a movie night with Tara and my parents, but those moments are rare and these days, they’re basically nonexistent.
“Y/N?”
I freeze, her sleepy voice bringing me back to reality.
“Yes?” I hold my breath, waiting for her to continue, but she never doesn’t. “Sam?”
I turn my head to look at her in the darkness and exhale shakily when I realize she’s asleep. I admire her soft features for a moment, taking note of how grown up she looks now that she’s turned eighteen, and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Then, I drop my hand on the mattress in the space between us and sigh.
“Good night, Sammy.”
The next morning when I wake up, I’m not surprised to find that she’s gone, just like that time when she snuck into my room.
I figure it’s probably best to give her some space, and let her deal with whatever she’s dealing with, but then, two days later, Tara calls me crying, and tells me Sam has left.
_______________________________________________
Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec
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demonpiratehuntress · 1 day ago
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clowns
taglist - @kabloswrld
OPLA!Zoro x F!Reader
summary - clowns are terrifying, and your first encounter with one leaves you traumatised. lucky for you, you have a big strong swordsman as a boyfriend.
warnings - CLOWNS (yes they should ALWAYS be a warning and yes Buggy scares me), you and Zoro are/were both pirate hunters
a/n - i count myself lucky i don't have circuses where i live, because if i ever see a clown i will run the other way
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Not only did you not expect to join a pirate crew, but you far from thought your first encounter as a "crew" would be facing your worst nightmare.
The minute you saw the bright red nose and funny make-up, you stiffened. Your eyes went wide and you became unresponsive, like you couldn't hear them talking or feel Zoro's subtle protective touches. You were too focused on the clown in front of you, terrified to your core.
"What's wrong with her?" Buggy noticed your stare, and waved his hand in front of your face. "Can she hear me?"
Zoro growled and put himself between you and the clown pirate, "Eyes on me, Binky." He knew that wasn't the clown's name, but Luffy's mistake would serve him well in getting Buggy's attention off you.
Sure enough, the clown scowled and looked at him, "Buggy! It's not that hard to remember!"
You were relieved that the clown was no longer focusing on you, but just the sight of him was rattling you to your core. While he was distracted, you took it as your opportunity to turn and run.
Now let it be said that you do not run easily from anything. You and Zoro were pirate hunters, or had been until you'd been roped into this, and you had faced some nasty, dangerous threats. You were hardened, and almost nothing shook you.
Except clowns.
Funny how the one thing you steered clear of found you first the moment you aligned yourself with others.
Before you could get far, some of his circus freaks grabbed you and brought you back. The clown was still talking about himself, but chuckled when his goons brought you back into the tent.
"What's wrong, pirate hunter?" He sneered. "Scared?"
"Hey!" Luffy beat Zoro this time, "Leave her alone."
And things went downhill from there.
You were, for some reason, separated from the group. So was Luffy, but that's because Buggy was interrogating him. Nami and Zoro had been escorted somewhere else, leaving you on your own in another side room, panicking and growing more and more nauseous. To make matters worse, Luffy started screaming from wherever he was.
A while later, the clown walked into your room.
Your eyes went wide, and you struggled against the rope holding you to the wooden beam.
"I'm surprised," he spoke, "You have a reputation that made even some of my men nervous. And yet...you can't even look me in the eye." He stopped right in front of you, "Why's that?"
You tried your best to look away, turning your head sideways and finding something else to focus on. You couldn't speak, and you were trembling. Nothing had ever shaken you like this, ever. But clowns for some reason...you couldn't handle them.
"Is it the nose?" He asked mockingly, although he sounded a bit annoyed at the mention of his large appendage again. He forced you to look at him, gripping your chin in his gloved hands. "Hmm?"
"Leave me alone," you managed to get out through gritted teeth.
"Your captain isn't being very cooperative," he ignored your request, "So I have a lot of time to spend here with you."
"Why me?" You tried to glare, but you knew you looked scared. Because you were.
"Fear is a good motivator for telling the truth," he finally let go of your chin, walking around you and sizing you up. "Your friends will be tough to convince, but you...you don't like clowns, right? I'll leave you alone if you tell me where the map is."
"Do your worst," you breathed out, a little shakily, but you were determined not to cave. Not for this idiot.
He growled, and in an instant he was in front of you again, holding a knife to your throat while putting his frightening face right up in yours, "Tell me where it is!"
The sound you let out was something between a squeak and a yelp, fear once again overcoming your body at the clown's proximity. It wasn't so much the knife pressed against your jugular, it was the fact that your worst fear was inches away from you. You clenched your fists, trying to control your shaking, but it didn't work. And he was amused by your terror.
"I'm going to check on your captain," he stepped back, "If he doesn't give me an answer, I'm coming right back here and I promise I'll leave a scar." Then he left, and you could breathe again.
But that's when the tears came.
You didn't really sob, you just stayed there crying silently. Your body trembled, mind numb with fear and shock. His face was burned into your mind, and shutting your eyes only made your panic worse.
That's how Zoro found you, tied up and shaking with glassy eyes.
"What did he do to you?" The swordsman asked when he cut you loose, grabbing and squeezing your arms gently. "(Name), what did he do?"
You just shook your head, unable to speak, and sought his comfort by burying your face in his neck and crying even more. The more you shook, the angrier he got. But he held you for as long as you needed, knowing Nami would be okay with finding Luffy on her own. You were Zoro's priority.
You finally let go a few minutes later, wiping your face, "Let's go help the others."
He nodded, guiding you out the room.
The trauma stuck with you for a few days after the three of you escaped him, evident one night when you woke up sweating and shaking. Zoro was a deep sleeper, but he had a sixth sense reserved just for you, so he was woken up by your outburst.
Zoro wasn't good with words, but he was definitely good at comforting you through actions. He never had to say anything, he just wrapped his strong arms around you and you were slowly soothed. You just had to lean against his chest, enveloped in his arms, and you would slowly calm down. His gentle kisses atop your head also helped, his affection never failing to get your mind off whatever was worrying you.
In Syrup Village, you spotted a poster of the clown pirate and started hyperventilating. Zoro immediately turned you away from it and cupped your cheeks in his hands, making you look at him.
"Hey, focus on me," he told you, "Just me. I'm here. You're fine." He used a gentle, soft tone, one reserved just for you.
You tried to breathe, eyes locked on his face, concentrating on his warm brown ones that held so much concern for you. The eyes that always comforted you with just a look. Slowly your breathing evened out, and Zoro embraced you, this time not caring that you were in public.
"You're okay."
You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath, "Thanks, Zoro."
He just nodded, giving you one last forehead kiss, "If we ever see him again, I'm going to cut him up and throw him in the ocean."
You managed a weak smile, grateful to have such a protective boyfriend. His actions always proved how devoted he was, even if they were a little violent. You wouldn't have it any other way.
"You do that."
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luthordamnvers · 1 day ago
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Outgrowing Supergirl
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A/N: The finale I deserved, tbh (Also on AO3)
Cat's voice kept repeating in Kara's head since Alex and Kelly's wedding.
'Ker-rah, you need to stop making excuses, and you need to decide what your course will be. Now, there is important work to be done, and I hope you'll join me. But more than that, I hope that you will choose to become your full self, because that would really be something to see. And it would be interesting because this is boring.'
Boring.
Her life had been torn to pieces a few times over, with destruction and missing on half the happenings of her own life because she was busy saving the world… the universe, and Cat Grant categorized it as boring.
Kara laughed to herself. She didn't know the half of it. And yet, her reluctant mentor also had some encouraging words.
'I believe in you, I always have.'
She had offered an Editor-In-Chief position.
One position she wasn't entirely sure she deserved, but as Alex said, 'That was her dream job.' Not one she expected to get, so soon. It was one she expected for when her superheroing had dwindled, and she was well into her human midlife. When her birth-date would say she was in her late forties, and she had to pretend she followed some strict regimen to look as good as she did, because the yellow sun wouldn't really let her age that much.
Her own words, also bounced in her head.
'I give speeches inspiring people to live their best lives. But she's right. I am too afraid to live my own.'
'My entire life, I've hid behind these glasses. It's gotten in the way of every job I've ever had, everything I've ever wanted to do, every relationship.'
'I think hiding who I am is the reason I couldn't pass the courage Gauntlet. I created Supergirl that night because the thought of saving my sister as myself was too terrifying.'
At that precise moment, she did thought that. but in the days since her sister's wedding, she could ponder long and wide over it. That may have been the totem's argument. But the totem didn't know about her safety. All the times people knowing her identity, put them in danger.
The totem didn't live Jeremiah having to surrender himself to work for the D.E.O to protect her. The totem didn't know about the D.E.O recruiting her sister out of college, because she was an alien. The totem didn't know about Max Lord trying to date her sister just to try and uncover Supergirl's identity. Or Rick Malverne keeping Alex hostage, so Supergirl would do his bidding. Or Haley finding out her identity, and use it to manipulate her sister and herself.
The totem didn't understand Lex Luthor capturing her niece in exchange for more power.
Or Agent Liberty kidnapping Lena to force her to reveal her identity.
That didn't happen in this reality, but it did happened to her. And she caved, of course she did. But it was dangerous. Too dangerous.
Lena's words constantly swam in her mind too, 'You've had your entire life, people telling you who you're supposed to be and that if you didn't hide your true self then the people would get hurt. I mean, it's tough to move beyond those type of core wounds.'
"It wasn't until Lillian told me the truth that I realized I haven't been living my own life. And finally, now I am. And it feels amazing." She had said, as they walked together, one next to the other.
"I don't even know what that would feel like for me. Connecting with someone as my whole self. To not be afraid to just be who I am.." Kara confessed. "It sounds like it could be empowering," Lena encouraged her.
It wasn't until days later, that she realized she'd lied to her best friend.
They were both sitting in her couch, watching The Great British Baking Show. Kara didn't even remember which season they were on.
"Are you even paying attention to the TV?" Lena asked, like reading her mind.
"No, not really," Kara sincerely admitted."I was thinking about what we talked at the wedding. About living my own life."
Lena turned to look at her instead of the TV, "You took of your glasses."
"I did. But I don't think that's the correct move for me," Kara confessed.
"Then, what is it?"
Kara sighed, "I'll accept the Editor-In-Chief job."
"You seem awfully conflicted for someone accepting her dream job," Lena frowned.
"I just need to convince Cat Grant to accept my conditions."
"Ah," Lena let out. "I see." She looked at her with a smile. "If anyone can convince her of anything, is you."
Kara was mesmerized by her. She thought about how much their life has changed, since they met. How miserable she was when Lena wasn't in her life. How unhappy she was when she had to run away from her, a lie in her lips. And how much better it was now that she knew the truth and was a willing participant of her life as a superhero.
She didn't realized she had done it, get so close to Lena she'd just had to lean in a few inches to touch her lips to hers.
"I lied at the wedding, too." Kara whispered.
"Lied about what?" Lena asked, in an equally low mumble.
"That I didn't know how it felt connecting with someone as my whole self," Kara explained. "I do know. I've always done it with you, even without the obvious. But especially in the last year." Kara paused. "And I think… I think you are more than my best friend."
Lena didn't move, she kept looking into Kara's eyes looking for something, and it seemingly she found it. "And what are you going to do about it?" She muttered.
"I'm going to kiss you, if that's okay with you," Kara said, finally closing the distance between their lips.
Kara could fly, and yet nothing had ever felt like kissing Lena.
"I got it," Lena announced, entering the loft.
Kara was nervous. She had managed to convince Cat Grant of it, but of course, her mentor and boss, couldn't let the dramatics go, and didn't let Kara even look at the cover of the magazine before sending it to print.
"You do look very good," her girlfriend said.
She was still over the moon about calling Lena her girlfriend, but not even that could squelch her nervousness. The kiss Lena gave her as a greeting did, though.
"Ready?" Lena asked.
"As ready as I can be."
Lena flipped the magazine in front of her, showing the cover to Kara. A picture of herself in her SuperSuit looked back at her.
'Supergirl is out, Superwoman is in.'
"She could have gone with a less cliched headline," Kara commented in a whisper.
"It's not that bad," Lena said, throwing her hands around Kara's neck, keeping her close. "But if I'm completely honest, you know Kara has always been my hero."
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aebinspa · 1 day ago
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meant to be
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PAIRING: karina x y/n reader
SUMMARY: Your life couldn’t have been worse. You aspired to make a living as a photographer, but instead, you found yourself working in a fast-food restaurant alongside a colleague who rarely offered you any good company. Everything changed when the famous model Karina showed up at your workplace. After a few days, she managed to convince the editorial team to hire you as the photographer for her photoshoot. However, your career faced another threat when Karina pressured you to assist her with a strictly confidential operation.
GENRES: angst, lies, loneliness, we will face suffering in this life, but eventually, things will improve, and we will start over again and again, fluff at the end.
WORD COUNT: 6.9k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: english is not my first language! i'm not cut out for writing long stories. i went crazy countless times while writing this one :)) i added a little bit every day and it made the story more confusing. the next five things I write will be fluff, no more angst for a while + thank you for all the support you have shown for what i wrote. i am extremely grateful and happy that someone was able to appreciate them!
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Life didn't end when you lost all your friends because of bad choices, didn't know where to put your hands, or stopped recognizing yourself in what you did and said. Life didn't end when you turned twenty. At least that's what you told yourself every morning to convince yourself to get up, when even what had previously seemed sensible lost all meaning.
In the eyes of your parents and your old friends, you had remained imprinted as a sour girl, difficult to manage but who, beyond some character problems, had always shown herself willing to help. Never to be helped. Perhaps this had a powerful impact. In your daily life, no one asked how you were in the morning. Was it more difficult for others to reach out to you and always receive a refusal or was it more difficult for you now to be alone, without anyone? And yet loneliness had always been so dear to you; a space where you could truly be yourself.
After trying to attend political science university for a few months and failing the first exam, you soon realized that it wasn't for you. The only luck was having met a girl who, between one lesson and another, had introduced you to the world of photography.
In photography, you discover a kind of joy that you could share. Often others would ask you for photos and you, with a big smile, couldn't wait to take one. Of course, everything got complicated when you had to come to terms with reality. There was no longer just photography, you also had to think about earning some money.
That's how you ended up working at a fast food restaurant that was open all day and, with the constant fear of running out of money at any moment, you signed up for all the night shifts. Someone had set you up by telling you that they paid more, but only when your first paycheck arrived did you realize that your dear colleague only wanted to get rid of the difficult shifts.
That night, you and Sunwoo, the beloved colleague who had actually made fun of you a few years earlier, were at the counter of the fast food restaurant busy playing UNO. It was more than rare to see customers at two in the morning.
“UNO!” Sunwoo shouted at the top of his lungs. “Fuck you, asshole! I’m tired and you dare win my favorite card game!” you threw the remaining cards of the deck off the counter. Sunwoo huffed and, with an agile leap, got off the counter and went to retrieve the poor cards that were now lying on the floor that was far too clean for the hygiene standards of the place where you worked. “It’s the only card game you know how to play, Y/n”
It was cold outside. A cold that froze the bones. Your winter uniforms didn’t warm you enough and the heating had suddenly stopped working the day before. Sunwoo didn't let it show, but he hated working more than you did. He had a dream more ambitious than yours and unfortunately, every door was closed in his face. The fast food place where he worked with you was the daily confirmation that failure was a constant in his life. And you were experiencing the same situation first-hand.
Sometimes photography gave you work, but you couldn't eat from it. Small jobs are undoubtedly formative, but not appealing to the taste of those big companies that looked at your disastrous portfolio.
While Sunwoo began to sweep the clean floor, you, lost in your thoughts, froze, feelinglessly staring at the street you looked at every night. Suddenly, you saw a black limousine approaching, and, scared that someone important might be there, you shook Sunwoo’s arm and pointed to the car. His eyes widened as well.
But to your surprise, the first person to step out of the car was a man in a tuxedo who then proceeded to open the back door facing the fast-food restaurant. A girl of medium height came out, wearing a black dress that hugged her body in all the right places. When she was closer to the door, you immediately noticed, illuminated by the decadent lights of the place where you were, that she had heavy makeup on her face that beautifully framed her eyes.
The young raven-haired girl sat on the stool in front of the counter. Sunwoo was still speechless. He could only mutter a shy, unprofessional “Ah, hi,” to which the girl responded with a sweet smile. Her gaze shifted to you and you flinched.
“Can I order?” she reached out to grab the menu Sunwoo had sat on earlier. “I guess so.” “The menu with the fattest, greasiest, biggest sandwich you have, please.” Sunwoo snatched the menu out of her hands and shouted “Right away!”, disappearing into the kitchen and leaving you in front of the girl. Outside, you noticed her date glaring at you.
“Not many customers come by, do they?” “We don’t usually see anyone. That’s why your visit surprised us a lot” The girl laughed in a strangely loud way. Strange, I thought she was more composed. “God, please. We will be more or less the same age, don't be so formal,” she wiped her hands on her dress laughing, and then looked at you ready to shake your hand “I'm Karina. It’s a stage name. I model full-time."
You shook hands with her, apologizing for how cold and greasy it might feel. “Well, I… I work here.” The girl smiled at you. “And do you like working here?” “What?”
Sunwoo came with Karina’s order and placed it before her, avoiding her gaze. When he crossed yours, you noticed that the boy had red cheeks. I whispered something to you but you didn’t understand.
It’s been too long since someone asked you what it was like to live a life you no longer wanted. Your mouth dried up and you were unable to answer. Karina shrugged and began eating the sandwich undisturbed.
With her mouth still full from the bite she had just taken, the model opened up to speak. It was evident she was nothing like the stereotype of a typical model; her authenticity was refreshing. Feeling overwhelmed, you moved two stools away from the client, seeking a bit of distance as you listened, intrigued by her unique charm.
"You took those, didn’t you?" Karina found it difficult to eat that part, but she couldn’t help but examine the few decorations in the fast-food restaurant. "Ah, those pictures," you turned your entire body to look at them. "Yes, I took all of them. They’re from our customers who left a special tip." "Special tip?" Karina asked, intrigued. "Yes, for a change of $4, you receive a Polaroid and agree to have it displayed on this wall. It’s not worth much, though, because I’m required to take two pictures for the price of one."
"They are all very pretty. I know some people." "There are a lot of people passing by. Sometimes they tell you their story, take a picture, and then leave, never to return. It’s almost as if-" "Romantic, yes" Karina finished the sentence for you, to your great surprise.
The silence that was created afterward was strangely comfortable. For someone like you who was always uncomfortable when she met strangers, the situation was quite strange. Karina, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease as she was happily humming and chewing at the same time. When the crow finished eating, she got up from her stool, stretched her arms, and put ten euros on the counter.
"Please don't make me change." "Pardon?" "I would like one of those photos. I'm looking forward to experiencing this too." What enthusiasm!
You took the Polaroid and waited for the young woman to pose before taking the picture. Karina made a big heart with her arms and gave you a wink. She is truly a model… "Are you done?" "Done!"
Karina approached you, then stood behind you and waited for the Polaroid to be ready. When she was ready, the girl screamed full of joy. You smiled unconsciously. "I love it, thank you!" she leaned it delicately on the counter and then turned quickly towards you, continuing to talk. "Let’s take the other one! Let’s do it together. Where is that boy? Boy! Boy! Ehiii!" Sunwoo ran out of the kitchen alarmed. "What- what happened?" "Nothing, Sunwoo" You put your hand on your forehead. "Can you take a picture of us? So we can hang it there." Sunwoo looked for your eyes but you avoided him, unable to explain. At which the boy approached the polaroid and urged you to pose. Karina chose the same place where all the other clients had been, saying she would keep the theme, and invited you to place yourself next to her.
Karina was a little taller than you, maybe a few centimeters, but in your eyes there seemed to be a huge difference. You stood closer to her to form the heart and pretended a smile of convenience to allow Sunwoo to take this photo. The proximity to the model sent a bizarre sensation creeping along your spine. Intrigued, you paused to take a closer look at her. In that moment, when no one else was watching, the radiant smile she had worn so confidently faded entirely from her face. Her eyes, once sparkling with warmth, now seemed overshadowed by a deep, unsettling darkness that only amplified her presence. Without warning, the model turned her gaze toward you, her lips curving into a wide grin that revealed a perfect set of thirty-two gleaming teeth. A chill swept over you, wrapping around your body like an icy blanket, leaving you momentarily breathless and disoriented. What the fuck?
"You did such a great job, girls. It's rare for Y/n!" You woke up from the nightmare of falling and responded to Sunwoo with a raised middle finger. "Oh, she's got quite an attitude. I need to leave," Karina said, finally letting go of you after holding you tightly. That girl was beginning to stir strange feelings in you. "The photo turned out just fine. Let me sign it and put the date on it. Come on!" Sunwoo timidly passed the Polaroid to the girl and watched her do everything she said.
With your arms folded you waited for her comfortable finish. Karina approached the corkboard and put your Polaroid on it. He smiled at her and turned, heading for the exit.
"Y/n!" Hearing your name pronounced by the model, you turned to her with an interrogative look. "Tell me" "See you!" and ran off into the limo, leaving behind a trail of expensive perfume and a cheap Polaroid.
That night passed faster than expected and Sunwoo told you - with attached photos - how this fantastic Karina was one of the most popular models in recent years. Besides being beautiful, she was about to debut in the cinema world. The moon was full and the cold was more bitter than usual. An uncomfortable feeling was in your chest, but you let it pass.
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While you were going to work the next day, you took some pictures at the illuminated windows of that night. One of the projects you had since moving to that city was to create a collection of photos showing nightlife, although it was difficult to call it "life", of the traders, workers, or people just going out for fun. But you didn’t have enough prestige and money.
When you arrived at work, you greeted Sunwoo coldly, who returned. You worked hard until three in the morning because, as you well know, on Saturday mornings there were waves of guys full of life coming back from bars where they had only drunk, or from discos in the area. You found it a good opportunity to take some pictures for your photo project.
In no time at all it was six o'clock. The sun was beginning to rise and the first rays of sunshine came through the large windows of the structure. You and Sunwoo were getting ready for the end of the shift, but the boy seemed particularly agitated so you told him to leave before you. You would have waited for the other girl to give her the keys and start the shift after. Sunwoo thanked you and ran away. You knew how much he cared about his passion.
The sound of the door creaking open cut through the stillness of the room, jolting you from your thoughts. You glanced at the clock on the wall, your brow furrowing as you noted it was already twenty minutes past the time your colleague was supposed to arrive. Just as you were about to call out, "You’re lat—" your words caught in your throat. Standing in the doorway was not your expected colleague, but the enigmatic man who had accompanied Karina the night before. He stood there, an air of mystery surrounding him, his presence both intriguing and unsettling as he caught your eye.
"How can I help you?" you asked, even though you were pressed for time and the only one in the room. "I was looking for you. It was lucky that I found you right away," the other person replied. You tightened your grip on the broom you had been pretending to sweep with just moments before. "For what purpose?" you inquired.
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a crisp white card, sliding it across the table to you. You glanced down to see a neatly printed address alongside the name: Vogue, Karina’s Photoshoot. Confusion washed over you as you looked back up at him. "What does this mean?" you asked. He shifted uneasily, avoiding your gaze. "Miss Karina has requested that you oversee her new photoshoot," he explained, his tone heavy with discomfort. "The previous photographer was let go… rather abruptly. I expect you to be at the studio in two days."
Your hands shook as you faced a big opportunity. You nodded slowly, your mouth half open, unsure what to say. The man smiled and walked away, leaving you stunned. The broom fell from your hands and clattered to the floor. Your knees felt weak, and your mind went blank for a moment. You couldn’t think. You wondered how powerful Karina was and what she wanted from you.
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The next day you showed up in the hall of the huge palace, waiting fearlessly for someone to come and call you. You had spent the night before reading and browsing photography books or looking at random palettes that could help you match any clothing you found on Karina.
A tall woman approached you slowly, her expression grim as she pointed to a location on the map she had just tossed at you. What a kindness… You quickly walked toward the meeting place and, upon finding the door, opened it carefully. Inside, a crew of about twenty people turned their curious gazes toward you, along with Karina and her manager.
You slowly approached your collaborators and thanked them timidly for their attention. "We will do everything that needs to be done and we will accomplish it together. All we should do is unite everyone’s ideas and give life to some of the most beautiful photos ever made" Karina, sitting in a velvet chair, put her hand in front of her and laughed candidly.
It didn’t take five hours to create everything that needed to be created. The ideas came from everyone like a river in full flow. Fill a room with artists who are also competitive people and you will get the exact personification of an erupting volcano. You were the Vesuvius and the fashion industry was your Pompeii. The next day you swore to finish the project so that you could go on with the production of the photos.
Karina, who should have been bored at least by having spent the day waiting for others to do their jobs, approached you with a remarkable delicacy and touched your shoulder. "Can you come over there?" Karina pointed to a closet nearby; it was her dressing room. "Uhm, sure" There was no reason to say no. You looked over your shoulder before entering the dressing room with the girl with the brown hair. It was the first time you saw her in a suit and all you could think about was how well she wore anything. It must be nice.
Karina invited you to sit in the two-seater chair with her. Hesitantly, you approached and sat face to face with the girl who flashed a smile revealing thirty-two teeth. "I brought you here because—" You interrupted her before she could finish. "Let’s say you fired the photographer from Vogue so I could come here." "An insignificant detail," she replied.
In Karina's eyes, you saw the same darkness you had observed a few days earlier. It made you hesitant to speak, fearing the words wouldn't come out right. "You must help me," she said. "Why should I?" you asked. Karina rose from her chair and stood in the middle of the room, her expression unreadable as she continued to gaze at you.
"You must. And if you don’t, I’ll take the only real opportunity you’ve got in your miserable life off your hands." "What’s the excuse?" the conversation seemed too much for you, so you immediately put yourself on defense. "You are a beautiful girl, you are good at what you do. I like your photos, I am sincere" "But?"
The frigid air enveloped the room, wrapping around you like an unwelcome shroud, making each breath feel laborious and strained. With every second that passed, a chilling sensation crept through your body, as if the very warmth within you was being siphoned away, leaving you increasingly vulnerable to the oppressive cold.
“You must photograph the emerging actress and model Yuna at a moment that could cause a scandal and ruin her career forever.” “This is fucking crazy,” you jumped up and approached Karina, who didn’t move an inch “I’m leaving, I don’t intend to keep this job and do whatever bullshit you came up with. I knew you were crazy, I understood it immediately"
Karina rolled her eyes, grabbed your arm, and pushed you into the seat. “You’re not going anywhere. I’m capable of destroying your present life and your future life. Be careful what you do. Listen to me and calm down” Karina’s hands were extremely cold but your gaze was even more icy.
“Speak then, cheap model” “It will all be anonymous. Become her friend and her photographer. You have one week. The clock runs out before the day you have to send the completed photoshoot to the Vogue editorial office” “It’s called blackmail” “It’s called seizing opportunities. You won’t get them again”
You looked away for a moment before getting up from your chair and moving back to the center of the room. You walked back and forth, occasionally glancing at Karina.
“They’ll kill me anyway when they realize it’s me” “Don’t worry,” Karina stood up to get closer to you, “We’ll use an external computer and no one will ever know” “A person will be involved, I don’t think I’m capable of it” “She won’t die” Karina had an amused grin on her face.
You thought back to Sunwoo and how he loved what he did like no one else. However, the most selfish part of you had surfaced. You wanted to pursue a career in photography, and you were unconcerned about the people who would be affected by your ambition. You would have done anything to make your dream a reality.
“I’m in” You held out your hand to Karina, surprised by your sudden change of heart. When Karina squeezed your hand you noticed it was as cold as yours. And that perhaps you were more similar than you could have imagined.
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You never imagined that the next day you would find yourself taking pictures of the woman who had asked you to ruin the life of another model without remorse. You had discovered that all your collaborators considered Karina a sweet, kind, and always available girl, while in your eyes, every time you looked at her, you felt like you were looking at a monster.
Once the photoshoot was over and, therefore, the work you had to do for Vogue, you walked into the Karaoke where Karina had asked you to meet. The room was insolently small - maybe the girl liked everything smaller - and the nauseating smell made you immediately understand what kind of dump it was.
“Don’t you like it here?” asked Karina, who was cross-legged and munching on some chips, which she offered you and you refused. “It’s pretty disgusting” “It’s okay. We won’t be here long”
Karina took her Gianni Chiarini bag and pulled out three photos. One was of Yuna, the other of a girl you couldn’t identify, and in the last photo, there was you.
“What does that mean?” “Yuna is having an affair with this girl.” Karina touched the face print of the girl whose name you didn’t know with her painted nail and then continued. “In case you didn’t understand, your photo is there because I wanted to let you know that I had you followed a week before I showed up at your place of work by a trusted friend of mine.” “What?” you were visibly shocked. “Don’t worry, honey. I will only use the information I have on you if you don’t cooperate.” A disturbing smile made you doubt her sincerity.
“Why are you so mad at this girl?” “Because she can’t keep what’s hers.” “What does that mean translated…?” Karina huffed and put the photos back in her bag. “We grew up in this industry together. We achieved success together. And then she cheated on me.”
You were stunned. “All this just because he didn't hold your hand throughout the journey of your life? Are you crazy-” “She cheated on me countless times. She told my parents that I’m a lesbian, they haven’t spoken to me since that day. And to top it all off, she stopped me from working for a year, taking away the most important collaboration of my life”
You almost felt sorry, but you didn’t say anything. Her eyes radiated something else. Maybe she too was human and was simply tired.
“Become her new fuck buddy. Treat her well and then you can be sure that you’ll end up finding her making out with someone else. Take as many pictures as you can and you’ll be free forever” “I don’t- Who told you I like women?” “My dear friend” “God, fuck Karina” “Um, maybe this collaboration will lead to something good?”
You looked up in shock and found a rather smiling Karina. “Do you start talking about sex when you're done talking about revenge? You’re crazy.” “I can’t help it if revenge turns me on like crazy.” Karina slowly ran her tongue over her upper lip, while you looked at her with wide eyes.
“Are you really… My god, you do this to everyone?” “Everyone who? You’re probably the last woman in three years that I’ve found truly attractive!” You rested your face on the fist you’d created with your right hand.
“Do you feel lonely?” Karina looked at you intently and nodded, gently moving her head. “Me too. That’s why I’ll help you. I see reflected in your eyes the same sadness that I feel." That's what it was.
“Y/n” “Tell me” “Do a good job” “I’ll try”
Karina finished all the chips that were left on the table, while you looked at her intently and prayed that the day you would meet Yuna would never come.
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Unexpectedly, you received a call the next day: a very familiar voice invited you to participate in a graphic project that involved twenty different photographers who would take pictures of Yuna during a typical month of hers at the beach. Fans are certainly crazy to buy this, but it's all for the career, right?
Your first encounter with Yuna was ordinary. Where normal means you were struck by how tall and beautiful she was, even though Karina had gotten you used to it well. Yuna walked over to you and pulled you into a tight hug. “Y/n, right? I saw some photos of your portfolio and I loved them. The way you capture what's around is extremely sincere. Thank you for accepting. I am eternally grateful”
Yuna was warm. You noticed it immediately. Her body temperature had nothing to do with Karina's. Yuna's smile, moreover, really showed a sincere kindness. The photos you took were delicate, beautiful, and… real. But you remembered what Karina had told you and quickly came to your senses.
You spent two days taking photographs for one of the most beloved women in the world - that's what the charts said - and on the last evening, Yuna and her manager dragged all twenty of you to a pub.
Yuna, clearly drunk, stood up on a chair and started screaming. “Thank you! You were amazing! This project will come out amazing. Now let’s get our glasses up, we have to celebrate!” As everyone downed a few glasses of beer, you noticed a familiar face looking sweetly at Yuna. It was her girlfriend. You asked the boy next to you to switch seats and, perhaps nodding his head, he permitted you.
"Hi, I'm Y/n" "Ah, nice to meet you, I'm Haseul! Yuna showed me your photos. They're beautiful, congratulations" How cute, I almost feel sorry for using her like that. "I see you're looking at Yuna with sweet eyes… Is there something underneath?" the little laugh you let out right after should have helped break the tension, but it only made it grow even more. Haseul wiped the sweat on her pants and then spoke to you.
"I love her more than anyone else in the world" Ah. "It must be nice to love someone" You ran a hand uncomfortably behind your neck. "It's nice to have someone by your side. We're almost always together. I only have her. After what Yuna went through last year, she's become even stronger" A strong curiosity grew in you.
"What happened to her?" "Her ex-girlfriend cheated on her, Yuna found out and told her parents to shoot her an arrow that would cause her the same pain" "That's not possible" "Plus Yuna lost a very important job with Saint Laurent. She spent sleepless nights because of Karin-" Haseul quickly covered her face with her hands.
"Karina. Are you sure it was her fault?" "Ask anyone you want. She lied to everyone and messed up half the plans of people here just to go out and cheat on her girlfriend. Everyone hates her. She's just a pretty face in this industry"
Your head started to spin, maybe from drinking too much alcohol. “I’m going to get some fresh air!” “Shall I accompany you?” “It doesn’t matter, thanks.”
Outside, on the side of an empty road, you threw up next to a dumpster. Karina had been lying to you. She was evil, she was crazy, and a total dickhead. Everyone knew it but you. Because you had been a normal person until the week before. You had seen the surface, never what was underneath.
You understood that Karina would treat you like Yuna. You understood that the only solution would be to refuse, but your career was at stake.
Yuna came out and walked over to you. “I’m sorry you found out. I know everything. Karina isn’t the only one who can spy on people without being accused.” “Do you know everything?” “From the stupid meeting at the fast food restaurant to the job opportunities she offered you. Her dear friend, aka her manager, is Shin Yuna here’s dearest friend.”
You looked into her eyes. “I’ll have to… No, hurt you. I don’t want to.” I wanted to, but now I don’t want to anymore. “It doesn’t matter. Do it.” “How could I?” Haseul came closer to the two of you. “You can’t hurt us. When you find someone in life who loves you, life has a whole different meaning.”
The cold suddenly hit you. And, strangely, you thought for a second that those two were crazy. “Yuna would lose her job,” you continued “But I will never lose the people I love. And anyway,” Yuna put her arm around Haseul’s waist, “I won’t be in this industry for long.”
Haseul looked you in the eyes and smiled. “Don’t worry.”
As you made your way home, your eyes caught the massive posters of Karina that adorned the streets yet, beneath your admiration, a swirl of conflicting emotions surged inside you; you couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she was not only a bit unpredictable but also a master of deception. Despite all that, you felt an undeniable urge to kiss her.
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The karaoke seemed more rotten than usual. Karina didn’t seem to belong there at all. The last day, the decisive one, had now arrived. You sat down, like the last time, in front of the raven-haired girl.
“Hi, Y/n. I see you well. How are you?” “Better than you can imagine” “My ears only want to hear good news”
You took her usual bag of chips from her hands and started munching on them. “What do you think of your modeling job?” “I hate it” Karina, to your surprise, answered without even thinking for a second. “Why?” “There is no sincerity in what I do. But it is the only job that puts me in contact with hundreds of people a week. It makes me feel less alone”
You put the chips on the table and took out the incriminating photos. “Yuna and Haneul, as you asked me and here I have,” you took out the USB stick, “the murder weapon!” Karina looked at you with wide eyes. “Did you… Do it?” “Your charm won me over, unfortunately, I have to admit it” Even though You were ironic, Karina's cheeks turned pink.
Karina pulled out a computer without making eye contact with you. Then she ordered you to open it. In front of your eyes was a fairly famous site where you were supposed to upload incriminating photos of Yuna and Haseul.
“Y/n. I have to tell you something" As you wrote the description of the photos you would publish immediately after, you signaled Karina to continue.
“Maybe it's because I haven't felt someone's affection for a long time, maybe it's because I can't look at myself in the mirror anymore without crying but…” “After Karina, after” “You said…” “Let me talk”
Seeing Karina so vulnerable and with teary eyes made you feel guilty, but what you wanted to do you would have done without complaining. Karina, however, seemed ready to let go of everything, to take a decisive step.
“Karina, kiss me” “Why should I do that? Are you crazy?” “Last time you seemed intent on doing much more!” you raised your voice. “If I kiss you it’s only because I want to show you how I feel!”
You both were incredibly close. The intensity of the conversation had drawn you from the karaoke sofas, and now you stood face to face, the air feeling thick between you. Karina was the first to make a move. She reached behind your neck, gripped your hair tightly, and swallowed hard. You didn't want to initiate the kiss; you wanted her to take the lead. And that’s exactly what she did. Karina leaned in and pressed her lips against yours, but the kiss was tentative, almost shy. She clearly wanted you to respond, but you held back. The kiss ended before it truly began.
“Why?” she asked, embarrassed. You, in response, checked your phone and went back to finishing the article on the computer. You connected your phone to the computer and transferred the photos.
“What about the USB stick?” “I’ll give it to you as soon as I’m finished”
Five minutes passed before you closed the computer. The die was cast. And so is your life and Karina's. There was no turning back, in any way.
“Y/n?” “Done” “Good…” Karina grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around herself. You did the same.
“Why did you lie to me?” “What are you talking about, Y/n? “Tell me the truth. Haseul and Yuna told me everything. I also spoke to other colleagues. All the same version. You’re a liar, Karina.”
Karina looked back at you with a blank stare. “And what are you?” “That’s not the point.” Karina slammed her fist on the table. “From everything they told you, did you only understand that I’m a liar?” “How can I trust you, Karina?”
Karina hugged the blanket and started biting her nails. "You know when I'm lying. You can feel it. You know when I’m not natural. I understood immediately when we met that there was a different connection between us." “Do you say that to everyone?” “You’re not funny, Y/n!” Karina screamed and threw the bag of chips in your direction, making a mess in the room.
“It’s not funny to make fun of people. You used me.” “I didn’t!” “So what did you do, Karina? How would you call what you did?” “I tried to keep you as close as possible… I don’t have anyone. Yuna wanted to leave me and I had sex with someone else the next day! Our relationship was over.” “People can’t love you if you pretend to be someone else.” “Everyone abandoned me. They abandoned me when I pretended to be the sweet and kind Karina and when I was the real Karina!”
Karina seemed to have reached a point of no return, but you could do nothing but pity her. Now you just had to tell her your truth.
“Karina, listen to me. Yuna got what she got because she moved on and recognized that love can be found anywhere. Her career is worth a thousand times more than a career like yours that was built on pain. Just forget about this life. Start over again." “The only one I have is my manager. I have no ambitions, I have no love. I just wanted someone to feel the way I do.” “We all fight for something, Karina! I fight for photography and you’ve been fighting against yourself for too long!”
Karina seemed to be furious. “You don’t understand. I’ve been alone all my life! The only one who’s close to me is my manag-” “No, he’s Yuna’s informant. When he handed me the ticket for Vogue, I immediately understood that he was not on your side, Karina”
“Karina” “I hate you. Will you stop throwing the truth in my face? I know, damn, I know I’m alone. I've never gotten along well with anyone. But with you, I had a good time. Time never seemed to end. You’ll abandon me too. You all do the same when I show you how I am”
You turned the computer towards her. “Karina, I posted the photos. Look at them. First, breathe and then rationalize” Karina did as you said, too vulnerable to go against you.
When she saw the article with the photo of you she couldn’t say a word. She just asked you, in a weak voice, why you did it. “We can start over, Karina. They already had everything. In their eyes, I saw what was missing in ours. Rise from the ashes Karina or die forever, it would make more sense than continuing to pretend to live in someone else’s body”
You got up from the room, knowing that the news with the photo of you and Karina kissing would do more harm to her than to you. You shut the door behind you. You turned around. Outside you waited for Karina, hoping she would come out so you could comfort her. But that didn’t happen.
The news caused a scandal. The billboards with Karina disappeared, her role as the lead actress in that new movie was deleted and for more than a month, all anyone talked about was that photo. No one recognized your face; next to Karina, you looked quite bad. Yuna called you and guaranteed that your name and work would remain in the photo book. The Vogue photos were never published. You stuck them up, with Sunwoo’s help, in the fast food restaurant.
Sometimes someone stopped to observe them and Sunwoo took care of answering their questions. Very naturally, he said that Karina loved coming to this fast food restaurant - before it disappeared - and that you were her favorite.
Six months had gone by, yet the ache in your chest refused to fade, a constant reminder of the unresolved feelings haunting you. Each night, you lay alone in bed, tears soaking your pillow, knowing that no one would come to comfort you—and that no one would offer her the same kindness. In those haunting hours, you grappled with memories and regrets, feeling the weight of your sorrow pressing down on you like a heavy shroud.
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“What a beautiful day! Life has never been so beautiful!” “Sunwoo, it’s just your first role in a stupid TV series” “A stupid TV series that you’ll watch!”
You and Sunwoo had become great workmates again. This time, you were the one who requested more hours, and Sunwoo, despite having found a second job, had decided to work alongside you in each of them.
Sometimes you look at the street illuminated by the street lamps. You hadn't been able to move on. After Yuna’s photobook came out, your name appeared on many other projects. You had started working with many more idols. But there was no one like her.
“Still thinking about it?” “My mind is occupied with her, Sunwoo” “You couldn’t contact her?” “No one has her number and no one has been close to her. At least I know she’s not dead” “Yeah…”
It was four in the morning on a random Thursday when a black car pulled up on the road and parked in front of the fast food restaurant. Sunwoo let out a scream and hid behind the counter. “Is that the police? What have you done, Y/n?” “Stop it, you idiot, and get the emergency number ready. You never know”
But a woman with blonde hair, no makeup, and wearing a sweatshirt that looked very expensive, stepped out of the car. At first, you and Sunwoo couldn’t figure out who she was, you could only guess that she was extremely attractive from the way she walked.
When the first light from the fast food restaurant hit her face, Karina revealed herself to you with a shy smile. “Sunwoo…” she waved at the boy. “And well… Y/n… How are you doing?”
Sunwoo let out another scream. This time you did the same. Then you started to cry, unable to control your emotions. Karina threw herself at you and hugged you with teary eyes. After you both calmed down, Sunwoo fried you two large portions of fries and left the place for a moment, pretending to have received a call.
“Y/n. I look at you…” “Terribly, terribly” “Yes, well. You’ve lost weight” You squeezed her hands tightly. Warm tears fell onto Karina's white hands.
“Sorry” “Stop it, it’s okay. Look at me” Karina took your face in her hands and forced you to look at her. Then she continued to speak. “It had to be this way. I was reborn from the ashes, okay? But I want you to do the same. Let’s help each other. We’ve been alone for too long and…”
Karina stopped to look at the road, her eyes shining. “I missed you. The real you is so annoying, sexy, and cute at the same time. I'm happy to hear you're well."
Karina then looked back at you and looked at the palms of your hands. “Come with me. I'm full of money. Let's run away from here, let's go where no one knows us" "Karina" "It doesn't matter if you tell me now. You destroyed my previous life though! I expect you to pick up the broken pieces and put them back together"
She made you laugh and you thanked fate for having met her. You gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek. Karina looked at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Are you just kissing me back?” “Karina, there’s a time for everything” “You know, Y/n, I have a few things I need to tell you about myself. Did you know that I especially love dark chocolate and hate milk chocolate?”
“Karina,” you stood up from the stool and locked your eyes with his. "Tell me, Y/n" “We have all the time to learn to love each other” “And we have all the time to learn to live”
Sunwoo burst into the fast food restaurant, his eyes glistening with tears of joy. He couldn’t contain his excitement as he shared the incredible news: he had secured a role in a film directed by a renowned filmmaker. The moment was electric, filled with laughter and heartfelt congratulations as you both celebrated his achievement. Before leaving this familiar place, you and Karina decided to capture the memory with a photo at the very spot where your journey had begun. As the camera clicked, you were acutely aware that this moment marked a turning point. You stood there, smiling and cherishing the memory, knowing deep down that you were ready to embrace the future and leave the past behind, resolutely moving forward without looking back.
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naturesapphic · 2 days ago
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Billie’s friends making fun of little gf reader making her cry but she doesn’t tell Billie until one day she overhears what her friends are saying💖
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Bullies
Caregiver!billie eilish x little!fem!reader
Warnings: age regression, hurt/comfort, Billie’s friends being mean, bullying, Billie getting angry but not at reader
Billie’s new friends were coming over today and you were not excited whatsoever. They made fun of you and your age regression which obviously made you sad and cry. Billie didn’t know about any of this happening and you didn’t plan to. Even though they were being mean and making you cry, you didn’t want billie getting mad at you for thinking you were lying to her or maybe she would agree with them and leave you.
You were overthinking every possibility and it all ended badly so you decided to keep your mouth shut and just let them say whatever. You were playing in the living room when they came piling up in the house with Billie laughing behind them. “I’ll get us some snacks and drinks. Do you want anything babygirl?” Billie asked you with a smile. “M-mys juice pwease mama…” you said quietly as you didn’t wanna talk in front of her friends. “Good girl for using your words! I’ll be right back.” She said happily as she disappears into the kitchen, leaving you alone with her friends that were giving you smirks.
“Awwww your mommy gonna give you some juice?” One of them said in a high pitched voice making you whimper under your breath. “Yeah, I bet it will be in a little sippy cup.” Another one chimed in as they all started to laugh and point at you making you turn your head to ignore them. “Hey! Didn’t your precious mommy tell you not to ignore people when they are talking to you, inconsiderate bitch.” One of them snarled at you and you quickly looked up to see them all smirking at you. “I don’t know why Billie is even with you, if I was her, I would spit in your face and leave immediately. You’re such a freak.” One spat out and you felt yourself sobbing in the middle of the living room with them laughing at you.
“Call her a freak again and see if I don’t come over and kick y’all’s asses.” Billie said sternly as she comes into the living room with your sippy in one hand and snacks in the other. “Mommy!” You gasped in surprise but she didn’t look your way just yet, not wanting to scare you with the look on her face. “Get the fuck out of my house right now.” Billie said coldly as she sets down the snacks and your sippy cup on the nearest desk that was near her and she walks over to you. Billie stands in front of you as her old friends all get up, them getting scared as Billie looks like she was gonna kill them. “B-Billie I promise it was all a joke. Right y/n?” One of them said and they gave you eyes that said “you better not fucking rat us out” but you shook your head instead, then they started glaring at you which made billie more pissed.
“You guys are fucking pathetic. You guys know I trusted y’all with this and you guys seemed so understanding about it. Now I can clearly see that y’all are not and you had the balls to make fun of my girlfriend AND make her cry. Leave my house and never fucking come here and contact me again.” Billie spat out and they all rolled their eyes and left the house, leaving you and Billie alone. Billie looked down and saw your tear stained face and she immediately lifted you up in her arms. “It’s okay babygirl. Mama is here now.” Billie said quietly as she holds you close to her as you clung onto her like a koala. “You won’t have to see them ever again.” She reassured you and you nodded your head against her chest. “How long has this been happening sweet girl?” Billie asked you gently and you shyly hid in the crook of her neck.
Billie frowned and rubbed your back “it’s okay baby. I’m not gonna get mad at you. You can trust mama.” She said and you shifted and looked up at her with sad eyes. “E-evers since w-wes tolds dems a-abouts I-it’s…” you stuttered and you felt Billie hold her breath in. “That was a four months ago baby…why didn’t you tell mama?” She gasped quietly and looked at you with sadness in her eyes. “S-scared…Nu wan chu to lose chu friends.” You said and Billie leaned down to give you a long kiss on your forehead. “Babygirl. I don’t wanna be friends with people who make fun of you and make you cry, you understand me?” She said looking in your eyes and you nodded your head slowly. “That’s my good girl. Now. Do you wanna sit and watch some cartoons with mommy?” She said happily and your face beamed up at her. “Wes Pweasie mommy!” You bounced in her arms which caused her to laugh. She carried you over where she placed down your juice and snacks and gave you your sippy. You immediately grabbed it and thanked her as you started sipping on it happily. Billie carried you back into the living room where she sat on the couch, with you still in her arms. She grabbed the remote and turned on one of your favorite movies and you leaned back into her while drinking your juice. As you watched, Billie was looking down at you with pure love and adoration in her eyes. No one was gonna mess with her baby ever again when she’s around.
A/n: hey guys! Glad to be back, gonna try and post more and get out all these requests so I can get prepared for Christmas so I’m excited. Thank you for the request anon and I hope you all enjoyed! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all! :)
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trulydeep · 2 days ago
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WARNING long post ahead…
Today was both wonderful and difficult. Wonderful because my dear friend J danced beautifully and I was so proud of her and happy for her success. I am always happy when my friends dance well, even when I myself am unable to dance because of my injury. We’re a team, and Q is the captain. I was always happy for X too, because she’s a lovely dancer and I’ve often told her so. Unlike X, I’m not the jealous type.
However, my (true) friend told me a little of what was happening behind my back with X. This friend is an awesome girl who, like me, just wants to dance, have fun and stay out of drama. She manages to walk a delicate line and be friends with X too because she’s not a target of X’s out of control jealousy.
When my friend told me how X was betraying me she reminded me that bad people will come and go, not to take it to heart, and that there will be good people who come into our lives too. That helped a little, but knowing someone is falsely accusing you is devastating.
Even worse is that Q, and others, might believe her. I’ve always admired and wanted the best for him, even when X sits across the table from me and tells me all the hurtful things he’s said about me, not trusting her but still wondering. That’s usually after she’s just said Q’s a psychopath or something akin to that.
I’ve hoped that people who know me wouldn’t believe terrible things about me, or, at least, would ask me about them. But X is a magnificent liar, probably the best I’ve ever known, and I’ve got a doozy of a liar in my own family. It’s astonishing to me that I didn’t recognize her personality disorder sooner.
When I was upset about X smearing my reputation, my psychotherapist friend warned me to just let it go and not confront X. She encouraged me that people who are willing to believe X are not worth having in my life anyway.
I suppose my therapist friend is right, but I have to be around X, because she’s usually there when I’m dancing. I’m trying to stay kind and be friendly because I don’t want to make things awkward for anyone else but it’s difficult. I don’t think Q knows what he’s gotten himself into. Sigh…
November 2024
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deusfoundry · 1 day ago
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i've got no idea if you are writing right now but i would love myself a fem!reader x kageyama. love you xx
U KNOW WHAT NONNIE i would love myself a kageyama x reader too hehe so here u go!!
p.s. i was half asleep when i wrote this literally i was fighting to keep my eyes open so its not my best pls forgive me i tried
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you remember the conversation you had with tobio so, so clearly, almost as if it was yesterday. which, you think, isn't entirely untrue considering it occurred barely two weeks ago.
tobio had outright rejected the idea of keeping your relationship a secret.
"why would i want to hide the fact that you're my girlfriend?"
and you try not to melt into a puddle over his bluntness, the way the words my girlfriend rolled off his tongue with ease. he didn't stutter. didn't trip over his words. you were his.
you cite a few reasons why he would consider it, all of which are valid in your eyes. backlash from fans. reduced sponsorships. less guest appearances on evening talk shows. factors that were valuable to his career. but he had told you, with an almost terrifying conviction, that he doesn't care. so long as he still gets to be on the court, the less-athlete and more-celebrity side of his career doesn't matter to him.
so you two agreed on a compromise. you would ease your relationship to the world, slowly letting more and more people know until it's out in the public.
and the first ones to know are the ones closest to you both. your family and his sister. your friends and his old teammates from highschool.
shoyo had been the first person he called when you agreed to be his girlfriend on one of your at-home dates. you can recall peering into your apartment's living room after a quick trip to the bathroom, watching tobio with his back hunched near the corner.
"she said yes." he whispered into his phone, and you could hear shoyo's overexcited screaming even though he's not on speaker.
next, was your boss. though workplace relationships aren't explicitly stated in your contract to be forbidden, it's highly still discouraged. in turn, you two had gotten an almost hour long lecture about policies and rules. about what this could mean for not only your careers, but for everyone else on the team as well. about the public's possible response.
and with a practiced, corporate smile, you reassured your boss that you have it all under control.
the last people in your four-part plan to find out would've been tobio's teammates and coach, before you (when you're both ready) make an announcement on all of schweiden adlers' social media accounts.
it was so easy, and tobio had agreed to follow through with it. you remember because he swore with a kiss on the edge of your lips and a shy smile that he would.
which is why you're equally dumbfounded and shocked when he announced your relationship to the public. during a post-match press conference. on live, national television.
satisfaction began to settle in halfway through the presscon. the team was doing great. they answered every question with ease, behaved as well as they could. there were moments of playful banter between the members that the fans would go crazy over. every reporter followed through the brief you gave them earlier about which questions they could and couldn't ask (heavily emphasizing no questions about kourai's height).
it was going so well.
until one of the reporters asked one particular question. it was done in good faith, you could tell by the small grin on her face and the quiet chuckles from everyone. she was playing off an inside joke from the adlers' fanbase which, to your confusion, seemed to adore you just as much as the members of the team.
"is your manager single?"
hirugami laughs, toying a bit with the microphone in his hand before he opens his mouth to answer the question in the same lighthearted nature.
except, tobio beats him to it.
"she's not."
the room falls silent. everyone, even his teammates, look at tobio with intrigue.
"r- really, kageyama-san?" she's damn near shaking, the poor lady, when she realizes tobio's eyes are on her. all bright and blue and intense.
he decides to spare her when he takes a moment to look at you, standing near the side of the stage. you're glaring daggers at him, trying to convey with your two eyes multiple warning signs in big, bold, and red letters.
please don't.
and tobio, who has grown to be perceptive when it comes to you, knows exactly what you mean. he just doesn't have it in him to care right now.
"i should know. i'm her boyfriend."
your mouth falls wide open. the only thought that runs through your mind is you two are so fucking screwed. this wasn't part of the plan you meticulously arranged and presented to your boss.
you don't know how long the silence lasts until kourai decides to break it.
"i knew it!" he says, slamming the velvet cloth covering the long panel table. the sound brings you out of your daze. "i knew something was going on between you two."
you think there's no possible way this situation can get worse, but wakatoshi nods in agreement, which brings about an onslaught of hungry reporters asking questions left and right. you take this as your cue to rush in and call off the presscon.
"is it true?"
"how long have you two been dating?"
"did kageyama-san really ask you out?"
you drown them out to the best of your abilities, ignoring the less than kind and backhanded questions directed towards you. tobio looks into your eyes as he passes by you in the line of players you're ushering off the stage, but you quickly avert your gaze.
"we'll talk later." you mouth.
after gathering their belongings from the locker room, the team piles onto the bus to head back to their home court. tobio settles into one of the seats near the back, saving the window seat for you.
he waits, watches in anticipation as you step inside the bus. you catch his pleading eyes right as you're about to take a seat in an empty row on the front.
you try to resist. really, you do. but you've never been the best at denying tobio. for more times than you care to admit had you been the subject of teasing by the team for entertaining each and every request that tobio makes.
so you sigh, before making the long walk to the back of the bus.
tobio allows you to scoot inside after helping you with shoving your backpack inside the overhead compartment. the bus springs to life right as you take your seat, engines silently roaring as it begins the trip back home.
a moment of silence passes before tobio takes your hand in his.
"i'm sorry." he says, dragging his thumb over the lines on your palm with each syllable.
"are you really?"
tobio pauses, almost contemplating. "you'd feel better if i didn't answer that."
a quiet laugh falls off your lips. of course you already knew the answer to that. tobio has always been unapologetically open about what he wants.
screw his old teammates for going with all his demands.
tobio's ministrations on your hand doesn't stop. in fact, it grows more frantic by the second. lazy movements turn into his thumb rushing back and forth against your skin. it means he wants to ask you something, and he's hoping this will silently convey his question.
"i'm not mad." in an instant, his worries are quelled. you move closer to lean your head on his shoulder. he plants his head on top of yours.
your limbs melt into each other until you're not sure where you end and tobio begins.
"but you didn't have to say that, you know. hirugami was handling it." you give him a light nudge.
"they were asking if you were single," tobio scoffs, turning his head so he can nuzzle his face against your hair. he breathes you in. your scent overtakes his senses until the only thing he knows is you. that you are his. "i think i have the right to answer that."
"god your publicist must hate you." you roll your eyes. "our boss must hate us right now too."
"don't care." he pries himself off the crown of your head, leaning down to latch his lips on your jaw.
tobio leaves one kiss, right at the very edge. you tip your head to the side so he can leave another on the flesh of your neck. he's about to plant a kiss just above your collarbone when wakatoshi chimes in from the seat in front of you.
"it's not very appropriate to make out on the bus."
you jump away from each other, cheeks flushing red now that the entire team's attention is on you. but you can't find it in you to care enough to tell them off. the hollering and the teasing matters less than the fact that you have tobio, right by your side.
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dividers by @cafekitsune
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puzzlingphronistes · 2 days ago
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Absolutely great episode. A little scared at what the iceberg melting means for the rest of their journey, and sad that Evan didn't get chosen in piss bc of what he said in the last adventuring party (bleem mentioned he thought the goat stamp on his ass meant that the goat claimed him, which is why tad could only leave a paw print rather than his whole pussy) but! All around great!
"I already have power I'll take knowledge"
"my tiddies? Brown."
"tell weugan I said hi" HOLY SHIT! THAT GOAT FUCKED THAT WOLF!!!
and above that, I love LOVE how much Aabria is trying to get them to fight these concepts of magic, and how much the misfits are straight up refusing the call. She had to start the episode with a check just to try to hurt them
THEE great sky serpent! Quetzy! A being of great hate and malice that they made friends with by letting it go home! Fuck that rocked
The scale here seems really interesting, too. Earlier this season Evan mentioned something about how wizard civilization diverted from normal civilization around the Advent of the printing press? But this ep confirmed it as old, older than what we know as recorded history.
And that they were barking up the wrong tree! God what a save by Danielle. That they assumed the funnels and the well were all necessary for magic, a truth of magic, instead just another Bombini classic. my guess is magic, true magic, used to look a lot closer to standard DND style, and the OG founders created the well to make magic easier, and this magic was less efficient, so less people could perform it.
And I love LOVE how Aabria is challenging everyone's preconceptions about magic. At the top of the season when K broke their wand, they spoke about the fact that they *can* break their wands with almost. Incredulity. "No way I would break my wand!" Type attitude. And slowly but surely everyone loses theirs one by one, wrapping up with jammer realizing that it's not necessary, it's not even good to have, it's holding him back.
And last one. The components! So cool. Performance intention and material, and that it doesn't necessitate something specific. The material of K throwing dirt could just as easily been rocks, or holding up a sheet of paper. It's giving "someone just replaced the blood component in a summoning ritual with tapioca and it worked" but across everything magic needs - almost like it's all just folk magic at the bottom, and everything beyond that is just having fun, messing around.
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takumiraine · 10 hours ago
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Once upon a time Chapter 6
In which Danny has a bad night and Jason is conflicted.
<first> <prev> <next>
“So you know how your friend walks home from GU?” Oracle asked, apropos nothing one night while Jason was mid patrol. The pit had been angry, and Jason was just looking for a fight.
“Now is not the best time to talk about him O,” Jason growled, swinging between buildings just to feel the brief rush of adrenaline from stepping off the roof of a building and falling. Watching the ground rush up to meet him. The pit had been angry over the last half hour, and it was only seeming to get worse.
“Alright. Just thought you’d want to know he is in a 6v1 in the Bowery and B is on his way.” Her tone was nonchalant, with an air of ‘have it your way’ even though he knew she knew he wouldn’t be able to leave it at that.
Jason, to his credit, did not splat on the ground or crash into a wall. But it was a near thing. “What?”
“I thought now wasn’t the best time?” She teased, before sending the location to his visor. “From the looks of things, he’s been trained by someone. Just did a sick Judo throw that would make A proud.”
“Is B going to get there first?”
“Oh yeah.” Jason groaned. It wasn’t going to go well.
“Can’t reroute him?”
“You want to tell him why?” Nope. Abso-fucking-lutely not.
“No”
“There’s your answer.”
Jason groaned again, trying his best to swing faster. The closer he got, the more the pit writhed.
—-
Danny met the eyes of Batman, his grin dropping into a scowl. “Why are you here?” He asked, hands clenching back into fists.
“I came to help.” Batman said, beginning to zip tie the criminals hands.
“Help? Help?” Danny scoffed, kicking a rock towards Batman’s feet. “Now you want to help? I don’t need it anymore.” Danny took a step towards him, finger pointing in his direction menacingly. Batman paused and looked down at him again.
“I am very sorry I did not get here sooner, young man. But-“ Danny stormed towards him, getting into the masked superhero’s face.
“But you’re years late guano-man. I asked. And I asked. And I begged. All you” Danny jabbed him in his armored chest with two fingers, core screaming a litany of -rage-hurt-fear-“sent were those government assholes. You call yourselves heroes up there in that fancy ass tower, with your billionaire’s funding, but the reality is, if someone doesn’t live in one of your protected towns then they’re on their fucking own!” Danny shoved him back, and Batman took a couple steps then looked at something above and behind Danny’s head. He didn’t even have the time to look before Batman spoke.
“Hood, now is not the best time.”
Danny spun then, eyes widening then narrowing. “And you!” He stomped over to Red Hood, jabbing him in the chest for good measure. “Are you following me?! First with the stabbing, and I’m not even in your territory and you’re here! you claim you’re not with this asshole, but you’re here? You-“
Danny stopped himself mouth dropping open and core twisting into -recognition-shock-betrayal-angry- eyes glowing green before he could stop them. “oh this is fucking rich. You are stalking me. Knowing where I live isn’t enough? You have to insert yourself into my fucking life?” He backed away from the two masked vigilantes getting both of them into his eyeline. “None of you, or anyone else in your little justice mafia, ever talk to me or try to help me again.”
Danny backed up, circling until he was clear of both of them. Then once he was far enough away, he broke into a run, turning the corner at the end of the block.
—-
“Fuck.” Jason muttered as he realized he had been found out. Seeing the Lazarus green in Danny’s eyes, feeling the fear, shock, betrayal and anger just rolling off of him, his own pit responding in kind.
“Hey B? It was heavily staticked, so I might be wrong, but did the kid say you sent the government after him?” Oracle asked after a long moment of silence.
“He did.”
“I hate that I even have to ask but…. Did you?”
“No. Is there anything we need people on at present?”
Oracle’s typing was heard in their ears for a moment “No, it doesn’t look like it.”
“Recall everyone from patrol to meet at the cave. We need to go over every inch of this and find out what we’re dealing with.”
Jason was slowly moving his hand toward his grapnel. He needed to process this before anything else. Before he could, an engine revved and the Batmobile was pulling up.
“Hood. In.”
“But-“ Jason began to argue, only for Bruce to shake his head. Batman pointed and Jason felt like he was a kid getting caught stealing tires again. The pit in him demanded he fight back, but after a standoff that he knew felt longer than it was he slid into the passenger seat, door shutting behind him.
“He acted like he recognized you.” Bruce said after getting in himself.
“Yeah.” Jason wasn’t going to be forthcoming just yet he was still trying to process what the fuck just happened.
“Hm.” He could feel every ounce of focus not on the road on him and it rankled.
“Just come out and say it B,” Jason snapped.
“You know what.”
“Maybe I don’t. I’m not a mind reader.”
“Hm.” God he was so much like Damien. The apple fell from that tree and became nestled safely on the next branch down.
Thankfully the conversation was interrupted by the clicks of several people joining the main comm line.
“Hey, I heard the recall.” Dick. Great. Just what he needed. Big brother swooping in. “Everyone have their limbs?”
“Possible compromise situation.” Was the only reply Bruce gave. Jason resisted the urge to slump in his seat like a child being picked up from school for fighting.
“I’ll be in asap.” Dick had to be the responsible first born. Asshole.
“I’m also on about the same time frame. Orphan and I are just handing off a minor robbery.” Spoiler’s voice chimed in.
“Robin and I are en route from the south. Riddler was trying to be clever and we were having fun breaking his riddles before he could even finish his spiel.” Red Robin seemed smug. Really those two were the only ones that found Eddy boy the slightest bit amusing.
“I believe he was considering checking himself back into Arkham he was so frustrated with our prowess.” Damian’s smugness was rolling off him through the comm chat.
There was a little bit of extra chatter as they wrapped up the eta conversation, but Jason was trying to decide if he could dive out of the Batmobile and escape before Bruce could turn around.
As if reading his thoughts, Bruce looked over at him and gave him a look. He knew Oracle was keeping an eye on their route too so driving wasn’t needed to be a focus. Jason frowned and even though the mask hid it, he was sure Bruce knew.
When they got to the cave and parked, Bruce got out and removed the cowl. He stood there, watching as Jason got out, pulling his own helmet off. He could still feel the pit scraping his insides, and looking for an escape. How much was his and how much was Danny’s Jason didn’t know.
“Explain before the others get here.”
Jason turned and walked deeper into the cave, taking his usual spot against the wall. “About a month ago, I interrupted a mugging turned stabbing. Kid ran off with the knife still in him. O gave me basic info and I joined GU to start my threat assessment. He hates Batman and the assorted heroes, hadn’t said why, isn’t fond of Bruce Wayne because he supports the JL financially. Had some potential for becoming a rogue in the future but mostly just wanted to be left alone.”
Bruce gave a hum, settling at the Bat Computer and typing. Not making notes, but looking through the information Oracle had already collected. When Jason didn’t continue, Bruce turned to look at him again.
“Kid was broke. Looked like hell, so I fed him and paid him to catch me up in math. Even though he’s in remedial classes he’s practically at the replacement’s level. He said he had spent most of high school ghosting his classes because they were murder. Seeing his eyes today…. I believe he was being very literal. We…. Became friendly. He did not know who I was until tonight.”
“How did that happen?”
“The pit reacted to him. It… usually does, but not as intensely as tonight. It seems to be tied to his emotional state. He was pissed at you so… What did you do to the kid?”
Bruce sighed. “I’ve never met him before. I think that might be the problem.”
Jason scoffed, standing in silence and staring at Bruce’s tortured expression. Bruce, six foot two slab of muscle, who had just been yelled at by a scrawny young man easily six inches shorter and weighing a hundred pounds less.
Danny had fire, Jason would give him that. Blood pouring from his nose, the start of two black eyes from the break and still facing two masked vigilantes who were known for beating people up, or killing them in Jason’s case, like they were part of the problem.
It was…. It was kind of hot if Jason was being honest. The kind of hot he would openly deny and take to his grave (again).
One by one the different groups joined them in the cave. All in their patrol outfits. All of them staring at Jason and Bruce like they were expecting an announcement of Armageddon beginning.
Once they were all assembled, Oracle popped up on one of the screens.
“So here is what we know.” Bruce began a rundown of the night, starting with Danny getting jumped by some of Scarecrow’s guys and putting them all in their place before yelling at him and recognizing Jason.
Oracle put the cleaned up video of Danny fighting the guys on screen, and if Jason hadn’t thought Danny was hot before…. He would most certainly have now. The way he used his opponents’ weapons and momentum against them? It was beautiful. Danny at one point jabbed a goon in the stomach with one of the batons he stole, then kicked a second goon into him, sending them both sprawling. And the judo throw was nothing short of artistry.
“This is the concerning part.” Oracle zoomed in on Danny’s eyes during the confrontation with Jason. One second they were normal, the next they were very clearly glowing. Jason knew that shade of green too well.
“Have you managed to get any background on him?” Dick asked, eyeing both him and Bruce carefully.
“Only the basics and even then I’m pretty sure it’s doctored. I’ve tried doing reverse image searches on him, both with and without the enhancements I’ve done,” she popped up a side by side of various before and after pictures showing Danny in various states of glitching and the reassembled image from her work. “Every time I try to get anything more I run into this.” She put up what looked to be a standard ‘access required’ page complete with ‘To gain access please call’ and then a number.
“I’ve looked for any sneaky back entrances but they all seem pretty well guarded. I can get in but I would definitely be noticed.” For Oracle to admit that? That was some pretty high tech protection.
“Let’s call the number. Anyone got a burner they don’t want anymore?” Spoiler looked around, holding out her hand. Jason pulled one out of his belt and tossed it to her.
“O, pull my shit off of it?” He asked, planning on transferring all of his more illicit activities to a new number next week anyways.
“Done and done.”
Stephanie dialed and put it on speakerphone. It rang twice then there was the click of the line picking up. “Government Information Warehouse. Please state your name and identification number.”
“Oh my goooood, that asshole!” Stephanie had her high school voice on with just the faintest bit of squeal and complete with twirling her hair around her finger, even though those in the cave were the only ones who could see. “sorry, sorry, not you. I met a really hot guy. Like, hot hot, you know? And I thought we were really vibing. And he gave me his number and I was like, score! But then I call it and I get you! So like, I’m really sorry I won’t call again!” She hung up.
“Well that was disturbing.” From Tim who got an elbow in the ribs from Stephanie. “Steph’s acting aside, what’s our next play B?”
Bruce looked thoughtfully at the screen.
“Let me talk to him.” Jason was speaking before he was even aware of it. “Maybe…. He can explain.”
“He looked like he was a second away from punching you too little wing. You think he’ll talk?”
Jason had no idea. “Fifty fifty. Maybe better if we give him some time to calm down.”
“So long as nothing else happens, you have one week to let him calm down.” Bruce agreed. “The rest of you, stay extra vigilant. Frequent check ins when on patrol, and when away from the manor. Anything abnormal, no matter how small gets reported immediately.” The various bats and birds gave their agreements and started filing up to the manor for whatever food Alfred had laying around no doubt.
Jason stayed, debating going up. He had one week to figure out how he was going to do this.
One week was not a lot of time.
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nerdallwritey · 1 day ago
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About to Strike (Part 1)
***IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: ONCE AGAIN I've yapped too much and this chapter became longer than tumblr likes, so I've split it into two posts. It's the same drill as Cheeks All Flushed: The smut is in the other part if you'd rather skip shenanigans and Get To Business. And that's valid! Part 2 is here and also linked down below. Apologies! It IS all in one place on AO3 if you'd prefer that!
Summary: Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink.  He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?” “Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira. Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well.  “Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet. “You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms.  OR The gang finally makes their way into the Shadow Cursed Lands.
Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 21.3k (This particular part is 10.7k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, piv sex, oral (male receiving), hand job, vaginal fingering, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, mild angst, protective Astarion, soft Astarion, whimpering Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), lots of party banter, AND JAHEIRA!! Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 and 2 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 6 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find the masterlist here.
a/n: SURPRISE! Part 6 is COMPLETE and she's A LOT. The back half is mainly smut and feelings and Astarion processing emotions a little which we LOVE to see. I hope to the gods that you guys find this to be a good followup to Worth the Peril, but I'm excited to FINALLY be in Act 2 and get into the big romantic scenes that happen there. Thank you all so much for sticking around and loving this goofy version of Astarion and his favorite bard :) You guys are the best and I adore and appreciate every single one of you! Please enjoy these silly little vignettes from the end of Act 1 and the start of Act 2! (Thank you as always to my beta @kermitwazowski for reading!) As a reminder, last time you got Mega Hurt in a fight and Astarion kind of took that personally.
Taglist: Moved to the comment section, since tumblr hates sharing fun with friends - please let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!
“Would you relax?” you whispered sharply to the vampire currently brooding to your right.
“How can I be when this… ancient woman just tried to murder you?” Astarion threw a dramatic hand forward, gesturing to Jaheira, who was walking in front of you towards the Last Light Inn. You all had just arrived at the well lit sanctuary in the Shadow Cursed Lands, only to be interrogated by the High Harper, and vouched for by Mol, who’d managed to find her way here as well.
“I handled it,” you hissed. “It’s going to be okay.”
“While I admire your optimism, darling, I still don’t trust her.”
Karlach buzzed behind you, clearly in disbelief. “Mate, you must be joking. That’s the Jaheira!”
Astarion slowed his pace a bit to meet Karlach’s eye. “And, I take it, you know the old crone?”
“Astarion!” Wyll sounded surprised. “You’ve lived in Baldur’s Gate longer than I have! And you don’t know the tales they tell of Jaheira and her party of adventurers?”
Your crew of seven came to a halt in front of a moss covered fountain to gawk at the elf.
He clicked his tongue. “Mmm… that’d be a no.”
“He’s lying,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes.
“I am not!”
Gale lifted a quizzical eyebrow. “Come now, Astarion, surely you’ve heard passing tales of the heroes of Baldur’s Gate? Or perhaps read a book of their exploits?”
Lae’zel narrowed her eyes. “I do not know of this ‘Jah-hee-rah’ person. Her heroics must not be that impressive if I have never heard of her.”
“Nor I,” Halsin cut in.
“Yes, well, being freakish outsiders from the Astral Plane and the middle of the forest will deprive you of basic history lessons.” Astarion crossed his arms.
You snorted. “So what’s your excuse?” The others snickered. 
Astarion placed an annoyed hand on his hip. “Did you all forget that I was kept as a slave for two hundred years of pure misery and torture?”
The group remained silent for a moment before you stepped forward to kiss his cheek. “You’re still not over that?” 
He smirked. “Would you believe it’s taking me a little longer than one might expect?”
“Shame,” you pouted. Then you looked at Karlach who was angling her head around the fountain to track where Jaheira had gone. “You want to enlighten these three, Karlach?”
Karlach looked back at you all and her eyes lit up with glee. “Oh, yes please!” She rolled her shoulders and bounced on her feet as if she were preparing for battle, rather than recounting basic Baldur’s Gate history. She cleared her throat before she spoke. “Years ago - over a century-”
You turned to Astarion and caught his eye. A century! your expression seemed to say.
Astarion shrugged his shoulders up to his ears and unwrapped one of his crossed arms to hold dramatically in front of himself. So what?
You rolled your eyes. So you should have been there!
He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. I don’t know what to tell you.
You huffed some hair out of your eyes and tuned back in to what Karlach was saying.
“-Jaheira was part of a group that saved Baldur’s Gate from Seravok - a Bhaalspawn trying to plunge the city into war.”
Once again, you caught Astarion’s eye. “And you don’t recall any of this?”
He pursed his lips as the others turned to look at him. “Now that you mention it, I vaguely recall tensions being rather high around the city all those years ago.”
“Liar,” Shadowheart accused again. “It had to be more apparent than that. Why don’t you just admit you know who Jaheira is?”
Astarion’s response was venomous: “I was kept on a very tight leash, thank you, so apologies for not getting the names of the heroes who ‘saved’ the city that kept me enslaved for another hundred years.” 
You approached him quietly and took his hand. He scowled at Shadowheart but wrenched his gaze away to look at you. His expression softened mildly.
“It’s okay,” you said gently. “I’m sure she would have come for you and your siblings had she known.”
“Yes, probably come to kill us for being abominations,” he muttered, but squeezed your hand anyway.
“Ah, don’t be like that, Astarion,” Wyll said cheerfully. “I’m sure she would have helped you! You’re quite fun once you get past all the prickly bits.”
“Gee, thanks,” Astarion said flatly. 
Karlach took the awkward silence that followed as an opportunity to keep fangirling. “My mum used to tell us stories all about them - the legends who protected the city from evil. She said Jaheira was a powerful druid. Adamant. Tough.”
“Probably a good ally to have on our side,” you said. Your companions nodded in agreement.
“I’ve told myself those stories thousands of times since,” Karlach continued. “I never thought I’d meet Jaheira. She’s a hero, and I was always… some Outer City kid.”
“Well, excellent news, Karlach,” Gale said. “Given our circumstances and the path we currently find ourselves on, it’s quite possible that we might be considered heroes one day.”
“Chk,” Lae’zel scoffed. “We don’t even know what we’re up against yet. It is likely some of you will perish before we are able to slay this unknown enemy.”
Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “Charming as always, Lae’zel.”
“I am not charming. I am merely stating fact.”
Halsin cleared his throat. “Another druid you say, Karlach?”
Karlach grinned and nodded. “She’s the best! Can’t believe she wants to talk to us about working together. What a day!”
And what a day it had been. 
Or, tenday, more like.
~~~~~
The day after you’d told Astarion’s sleeping form that you loved him, he’d been nothing but clingy. 
You awoke to find him still curled tightly into your side, but now he was fully awake, his eyes wide and unblinking. It was unnerving.
“Can I help you?” you asked.
He blinked rapidly before an easy grin rested on his lips. “Just making sure you still have a pulse, darling.”
You snorted. “Checking on your food supply, I see.”
Astarion angled his head to nuzzle his nose along your throat before kissing your pulse point. “What can I say,” he murmured against your skin, “we vampires have two instincts, as we learned from that book yesterday: ‘feed and make little vampires.’” He scrunched his face into a silent roar, baring his fangs and forming one of his hands into a claw. He slashed it through the air playfully.
“Yes well, the latter probably won’t be happening for a little while,” you said, shifting to sit up, but wincing in pain over the wound in your torso. 
Astarion was rolling off the pillows within seconds and coming around to help you sit up. His eyes were concerned, but he pouted and his voice was teasingly whiny when he said, “Pity.” He rested his forehead against your temple. “I do so miss being inside of you.”
You nearly choked on your own spit, which had him pulling away from you and laughing. 
“Whatever,” you muttered, watching as Astarion pulled his shirt over his head. 
“Hungry, my sweet?” he asked, still smiling.
“You’re really freaking me out,” you said, giving him a sideways look, “with how nice you’re being.”
Astarion rolled his eyes. “Fine. Starve.” With that, he exited your tent with a theatrical swoosh of the flaps that acted as a door.
You exhaled a disbelieving laugh, watching as the flaps swished back and forth before settling back into their closed position.
“SHE’S WHAT?!” you heard Karlach shriek, followed by loud, bounding footsteps approaching your tent. 
Astarion called after her in annoyance, “Don’t bother her!”
“Soldier!” Karlach’s head and shoulders popped their way into your tent. “So happy you’re awake!”
“Hi Karlach,” you laughed. “I’d get up but-”
Karlach shook her head. “Don’t move a muscle. I’m sure Shadowheart and Halsin will want to change your bandages and pump you full of potions but… I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Me too,” you said. “Thank you for helping while I was unconscious.”
“You’d do the same for any of us,” she said earnestly, still on her hands and knees in the entrance of your tent. 
You heard a dull thump outside that had Karlach yelping in surprise. 
“Out,” came Astarion’s sour tone, his tongue putting extra emphasis on the “t.”
Karlach looked back over her shoulder and then over to you. “He kicked my boot, the bastard! Proper hard, too!”
“I’d do a lot worse if you weren’t a walking furnace.” Another thump informed you that he kicked Karlach’s boot again.
Rather than retreat, however, Karlach settled her elbows into the dirt and rested her head in her hands. “Ask nicely.” She met your eye with a mischievous grin. 
You heard Astarion squawk incredulously. “Darling, tell her to move!”
Clearing your throat to keep from laughing, you said firmly, “Astarion. Be nice. That’s my dear friend, Karlach, you’re kicking.”
He muttered something you couldn’t make out, followed by a loud groan. 
Through gritted teeth, he said, “Dear, sweet, Karlach-” 
“Liking the sound of this,” Karlach nodded.
“-would you be so kind as to remove your humongous form from the entrance of my lovely bard’s tent?” It sounded as if the words were causing him physical pain.
Karlach looked back at you. “What do you think, Soldier?”
“He could probably do better,” you said with a smirk. But it was then that your stomach decided to growl loudly. 
“Woof,” Karlach said.
You could practically hear Astarion’s eye roll. “You know, if you let me in, I could remedy that little problem you’re experiencing.”
Karlach slanted her mouth to the side. “He’s probably right, Gale left behind a bunch of-” she waggled her fingers, “-magic-y warm food for you before he, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, and Wyll headed out this morning.”
You cocked your head to the side. “And you didn’t go with them?”
“Are you kidding?” she asked. “And miss you possibly waking up?”
You smiled at her fondly. “That’s very sweet of you.”
“Besides, I don’t trust myself around all the explodey mushrooms down here.”
Astarion cleared his throat loudly.
“Alright, Fangs, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Karlach looked over her shoulder at him before looking back at you once more. “Let me know if you need anything. You know where to find me.” She pointed to her temple, referring to the tadpole connection, and winked. She crawled backwards on her hands and knees, purposely taking her time, before she fully exited the tent. 
Astarion took her place instantly, crawling into the space with a plate of steaming scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, bread, and a pair of healing potions. He placed the entire thing on your lap, along with a fork, before settling onto the ground next to you. 
You blinked at him. “Breakfast in bed?” 
He scoffed. “It isn’t as if you can join us at the breakfast table.”
Smiling softly, you reached out a hand to cup his cheek. “Thank you, my love. This is very kind of you.”
He still scowled, but his face softened when he took your hand from his cheek and kissed your palm. “I expect the same kind of pampering in return if I’m ever to practically die as foolishly as you.”
You laughed before picking up the fork and stabbing some egg. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 
~~~~~
And for the first few days, it did feel like pampering: Astarion staying by your side at all times - reading to you, laying with you, changing your bandages… He only ever left to feed himself. He refused your blood, citing that you needed it more than him, even though your bleeding had slowed to a halt by the third day. 
It all felt very nice.
Until you felt well enough to get back on your feet.
The others had dutifully been wrapping things up in the Underdark; defeating monsters, freeing deep gnomes from their drow and duergar slavers, rescuing the halfling woman’s husband, and exploring an abandoned wizard’s tower and the temple to Shar, to name a few. Lae’zel had even gifted you a new longsword she’d found, Phalar Aluve - a sword with the ability to sing or shriek - claiming that this weapon would not have allowed you to be wounded as fatally, had you had it during the duergar battle in the decrepit village.
On the day they raided the Zhentarim cache Astarion had mentioned all those days ago, he’d remained dutifully by your side, much to your dismay and protests that you’d be fine without him for a few hours.
“Absolutely not,” he’d said, looking down his nose at you. “As if Halsin or Shadowheart could care for you as properly as I have.”
“You forget,” you’d responded, mildly annoyed, “that they’re the ones who taught you how to care for me.”
“And I’m the one who shall continue to care for you,” he huffed, finishing changing your bandages once again. By this time, you could sit up on your own with mild to no pain at all. You were perfectly capable of changing your own bandages, but Astarion had insisted on continuing to help you. 
You supposed it was nice that he wanted to take care of you, given how much he usually hated being responsible for anything, but he was taking the job a bit too seriously.
Luckily, Karlach and Lae’zel had lugged some chests they’d been unable to open at the Zhentarim storeroom back to camp, allowing your beloved rogue to take part in the raid, despite not attending himself, and thus allowing you a moment of peace to roll off your pillows and put on fresh clothes without his help.
You emerged from your tent to look at the spoils from the storeroom, standing up straight and walking on your own. Astarion hadn’t noticed at first, too busy fiddling with the lock of a particularly large chest, but the commotion created by your companions forced him to look in your direction. 
“You’re up!” Wyll exclaimed.
“Do you need any help?” Gale snapped the book he was reading closed.
“Give her some space,” Shadowheart said, assessing you with her eyes from a few feet away.
Astarion got up and hurried over to you. “What do you think you’re doing?”
You smiled at him reassuringly. “I promise I feel well enough to be out here. I just wanted some fresh, Underdark air.” You looked over his shoulder at one of the open chests. “Find anything good?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Nothing worth you getting out of bed for.” He looked you up and down and noticed your change of clothes. He sighed. “I could have helped-”
“I’m fine,” you maintained, placing your hands on his shoulders and looking him directly in the eyes.
Halsin approached the two of you and nodded approvingly. “It is good for her to be up and moving around. It’ll stretch the healing muscles and allow her to join the fray again much more quickly than if she stays in bed all day.” 
Astarion rolled his eyes. “Oh, what do you know?”
“Astarion,” Shadowheart said in warning. “If she says she’s okay, let’s believe her. I’m sure she’ll tell you if something’s wrong this time around, right?” She made pointed eye contact with you. 
You held up your hand as if swearing an oath. “I promise.”
He watched you closely, narrowing his eyes and sniffing pompously. “Fine.” 
He made no move to leave your side.
You rolled your eyes and walked over to the chest he’d been working on, the thieves’ tools still stuck inside the lock. You patted the top of the chest and said, “Don’t let me interrupt you.”
Astarion watched you carefully before he made his way back to the chest and sunk to his knees. 
Not far off, Lae’zel was polishing her greatsword. “Does this mean you are well enough to accompany us to the crèche?”
“Well, I-”
“No,” said every other person at camp at once.
“Chk,” Lae’zel thrust her greatsword into the dirt in front of her. “Heal faster.”
“Trying my best,” you said with a shrug. 
Lae’zel rolled her eyes and returned to assessing her greatsword.
“If you’re going to be up and about,” Shadowheart said, “you should probably start packing up your belongings for when we need to enter the Mountain Pass.”
“Augh!” you exclaimed loudly, clutching your side. Astarion was up immediately and you leaned your weight on him, throwing your arms around his neck for support. “So sorry, Shadowheart,” you said in a fake strained tone, “my wound… it prevents me… from hard labor…” You flopped fully into Astarion’s side, closing your eyes and sticking out your tongue as if you’d just perished on the spot.
“Oh good,” Astarion said blandly, “she’s finally dead and I can get on with my life.”
You kicked him.
“Uh huh,” Shadowheart crossed her arms. “Such a shame she’ll never be able to annoy us again.”
“I’ll haunt you forever…” you murmured, wobbling your voice like a ghost.
 Shadowheart stepped forward and patted your arm. “I’ll ask for blessings from Lady Shar on behalf of your passing.”
“Thank you…” you murmured again.
Astarion bumped his hip into yours forcefully. “Would you get off of me?”
You pulled back and smiled at him. “See? I’m fine.”
He humphed and returned to unlocking the big chest, only to find it full of more thieves' tools. He sighed heavily and rested his forehead on the edge of the chest. You peered inside and laughed.
“Aw,” you said sympathetically and patted his shoulder. “I’m going to get some food.”
“Let me-” 
“No,” you said firmly. “Keep going through your useless chests, my love. I’ll be right over here.” You walked over to the makeshift kitchen area Gale had set up. 
Astarion watched you go, and you felt his protective eyes remain on you for the remainder of the night. 
~~~~~
It was like that now: Astarion trying to do things for you while you insisted you could do them on your own. 
It had bewildered you when he actually helped you pack for your trip back to the surface. He had little to pack of his own, given that he’d more or less lived in your tent throughout your stay in the Underdark. He was relentlessly cautious with you, insisting that Gale cast Fly on you so that you didn’t have to ascend the impossibly long ladder back up into the Goblin camp. And he rarely let you out of his sight, even when safely surrounded by your other companions. 
The Mountain Pass was beautiful: bathed in what seemed like permanently golden light that had Astarion blooming in the sun’s glow once again. When your group accidentally stumbled into a hostile party of undead while looking for a place to camp, Astarion had taken your hand and pulled you behind him to shield you with his body. 
“I can help!” you’d pleaded, watching your friends sling spells and swords at the skeletons.
“Let us handle this,” Astarion had growled, slashing his daggers through a ghoul that came a little too close to you for comfort. He kept you both to the outskirts of the fight.
Try as you might to help, Astarion held you back, glaring at you for drawing the attention of a ghast when you cast Thunder Wave in its direction. You gave him an apologetic smile before he fatally stabbed the ghast in the chest. 
Bloodied and burnt out, you and your companions finally found a decent place to camp, close to the monastery that Lae’zel was sure housed the crèche. She took the lead on making a plan to enter the building and find the cure that had been promised to her all her life. You sat by the fire, listening idly to her plans, knowing full well that no one - except maybe Lae’zel herself - wanted you fighting so soon after your injury. You also knew that, should the cure be legitimate, your friends would happily accompany you back into the crèche where you could have the tadpole removed. You chose not to linger on the thought of your adventure possibly coming to an end so soon.
Unsurprisingly, Astarion sat by your side, mending a pair of pants. His knee was pressed lightly into your upper thigh as he hunched over the fabric to see his thread better. 
“You could be doing that in my tent, you know,” you said quietly, watching his fingers nimbly weave the fabric back together with needle and thread. “It’s probably easier to see what you’re doing surrounded by candles from all sides than just this fire. I don’t want you to burn yourself.”
“I’m quite skilled at seeing in darkness, thank you,” he said, not looking over at you.
You exhaled softly and leaned your head on his shoulder, effectively stretching your right side, which housed your wound. He paused momentarily, then kept going. 
“I’m okay,” you said softly, barely audible above the roaring fire and the heated discussion of possible battle strategy amongst your companions a few feet away. “I’m not going to get hurt like that again.”
Astarion sighed and halted his work on the pants. “You can’t promise that,” he said, sounding annoyed. He spoke his next words quickly, equal parts irritated and vulnerable: “You have no idea what’s coming and neither do I or any of us and I know you’re capable of protecting yourself but the least I can do right now is make sure you heal properly and don’t get hurt again because if I lost you… I wouldn’t know what to do.” He cleared his throat and looked back down at the fabric in his lap. “Or… whatever.” 
You smiled softly and lifted your head from his shoulder to kiss his cheek. “I adore you.”
He exhaled an amused breath through his nose. “You’re fine, too.” 
“Thank you for looking out for me.”
He sighed dramatically. “It’s been dreadful.”
You laughed. “I can’t even begin to imagine the sacrifices you’ve made.”
He brought his hands up to count on his fingers. “I’ve barely slept, I’ve been drinking animal plonk as opposed to your delicious vintage, I’ve hardly killed anything in the last few days, and I haven’t been able to sleep with you for just as long, if not longer.”
You were glad he wasn’t looking right at you, otherwise he’d surely see the flush on your cheeks. “You’ve been sleeping with me nearly every night.”
He nudged your unwounded side with his elbow. “You know what I mean.”
You smirked. “I miss you too,” you said. “And I’m sorry. You don’t need to be giving up all of that for me.”
He leaned his head on top of yours which had found its way back to his shoulder. “Just… heal, would you? You wretched thing.”
You reached your hand to rest on top of his knee. “You must be starving.”
“In more ways than one,” he growled teasingly in your ear. 
“I’m serious.”
“As am I. But your blood stays off limits until I’m sure you’re done bleeding.”
You made a frustrated noise. “I haven’t bled in days, you stubborn leech. And you nearly killed me the first time you drank from me, so really, what’s the difference?”
“Yes, but we weren’t us back then. You were just some bard that I crash landed on a horrid beach with.” 
“Hmm,” you hummed through pursed lips.
Now Astarion bent to kiss your cheek. “I’m just being extra careful, my sweet.” He moved his mouth to your ear. “And… it’ll be all the more exquisite when I finally taste you again.”
“Ah,” you said. “So you’re edging yourself.”
Astarion sputtered, “That’s not-” Then he smirked. “And what would you know about edging?”
You swallowed thickly. “Enough.”
He chuckled darkly. “Noted.”
It was quieter now, as your companions had dispersed to their own tents to prepare for tomorrow’s journey to the crèche. 
Still, Astarion kept his voice down. “I have an important question for you though, my darling.”
“And what would that be?”
“Whose belongings should we peruse first tomorrow while everyone’s gone?”
~~~~~
The only interesting items you’d found while snooping around camp the next day were cheap erotic novels hidden among both Shadowheart’s and Wyll’s possessions. 
Everyone, minus Halsin, who was sticking around the edge of camp planning a way through the Shadow Cursed Lands, had made their way to the crèche only a few hours before. 
“‘The Salty Mermaid,’” you’d said, waggling your eyebrows at Astarion who was rifling through Wyll’s tent. 
“You’ll never believe this, darling.” He turned to show you the same book, its illustrated cover even more worn than the copy you’d found in one of Shadowheart’s bags. 
“Shut up,” you said, leaning forward to snatch the book from his hand and holding the copies side by side. Both depicted a shirtless man gazing into the eyes of a beautiful, topless mermaid, her torso turned tastefully away from view. Their mouths were parted slightly in anticipation of a steaming kiss, ocean mist spraying over them and the rock they were perched on in the middle of the ocean. Wyll’s copy looked as though it had been read dozens of times over the span of many years, while Shadowheart’s was newer and gave the impression that it had been opened frequently, given the way the cover refused to rest against the first page.
“This is outrageous,” Astarion said, sitting behind you and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at both books. 
You turned your head to look at him. “Didn’t take those two for naughty book lovers?”
“What? Oh, no, everyone in this camp is a deeply sad, depraved creature, that’s not it.”
You snorted. “Okay, so what-”
“It’s that they didn’t think to include us in their little book club!” His hand gestured wildly between the covers. “You and I read all the time!”
“We don’t know they’re reading them together,” you pointed out. “Maybe it’s a coincidence.”
Astarion looked at you skeptically. “Do you really believe that?”
You thought for a moment. Honestly, you weren’t sure. Your nights had been occupied spending time with the man currently wrapped delicately around your midsection. You couldn’t be sure that your companions hadn’t started a book club without you. It brought a small smile to your face, imagining your friends bonding with each other without your help.
Astarion didn’t wait for you to answer. “Let’s at least see what all the fuss is about.” He leaned forward slightly, careful not to jostle your right side and took Wyll’s book from your hand. He flipped open to a random page as you set Shadowheart’s book on your lap. You leaned your head against his, which was still resting on your shoulder, and read along with him. He tilted his head slightly to read slowly and seductively in your ear. 
“Fabian ran his calloused fingers along Allura’s scales. Her tail quivered in response.” He held out the “s,” as if hissing, and nipped at your ear.
You flinched in surprise and smacked him gently on the side of the head. 
He chuckled and continued. “‘Taste me,’ Allura pleaded. Fabian smashed his lips against hers and their tongues twisted together like two eels in the Sword Sea.”
You barely withheld a laugh. “Trying to seduce me with eels again, I see.” 
Astarion narrowed his eyes, rereading the passage in disbelief. “Oh, gods dammit.”
You nuzzled the side of his head with your own. “It’s working better this time,” you admitted.
“Oh?” Astarion pulled back and met you with a wicked grin. 
You nodded and watched his mouth as he leaned in to kiss you before pulling back just out of his reach. He opened his eyes and gave you a puzzled expression. 
“I didn’t say it worked completely.” You pushed his nose lightly to turn his face away from yours and back to the book in his hands. 
“Why you-” He dropped the book unceremoniously and brought both his hands to your cheeks to kiss you firmly. You laughed against his mouth before giving in and opening up for him.
“Astarion,” came Halsin’s voice from a few yards away. 
Astarion immediately disconnected the kiss and shot a deadly glare at the bear. 
Halsin hadn’t been looking. Instead he’d been focusing down at what he was holding - a half carved piece of wood, something that was beginning to look like a rabbit. When he finally looked up, he halted in his tracks. 
“My apologies,” he said, holding his hands up in a showing of peace, “I merely wanted to ask Astarion for a better knife. It appears my proper carving tools are lost somewhere within our wares.”
“Hi Halsin,” you said nonchalantly. 
Halsin chuckled. “I didn’t mean to disturb your fun.”
“Fun? What fun? We never have fun.” You nudged Astarion who was still staring daggers at Halsin. 
Astarion sighed and settled his chin back on your shoulder. “Relax, darling, I’m sure Halsin knows all about the kind of fun we have together.” 
Halsin nodded. “Far be it from me to interrupt a spry couple preparing to partake in one of nature’s greatest gifts.”
“Ugh,” Astarion groaned in disgust and you felt your cheeks go red. “You make it sound awful.”
“It’s only natural-”
“Did you check our Traveler’s Chest for your carving tools?” you desperately tried to change the subject. “It’s possible one of us packed them in there by mistake.”
Halsin snapped his fingers. “Of course! And the Traveler’s Chest would be…”
You pointed in the direction of the chest, which was thankfully on the other side of camp. 
Halsin followed your gaze and nodded again. “I shall investigate the chest. Sorry once again.” He started to leave the two of you but turned back around.  “Remember to be careful of your wound.” He gestured to your right side and you absently held your hand to the tender area. “Nothing worse than an injury worsened in the throes of passion.”
“Goodbye, Halsin,” Astarion waved him off. 
Halsin chuckled once more, then left the area. You and Astarion remained silent for a moment, watching him go. 
You looked over at him. “Moment over?”
“So incredibly over,” Astarion lifted his chin from your shoulder and crawled around to sit next to you. “But the druid’s right. You’re still hurt.”
You huffed some hair out of your face. “And you’re still a drama queen.”
Astarion gasped and held a hand to his chest dramatically. “How dare you.”
“I’m fine!” you insisted. “Watch this!” 
You stood and leaned your body to the left, stretching your right side and lifting your right arm over your head.
“See?”
Astarion cocked his head to the side. “Impressive. Now stretch the other way.”
You remained upright and ramrod straight. “I don’t want to.”
“Because…?”
“Because…” You rolled your eyes. “Oh, fuck you! You know why.”
“Because you’re still sore-”
“Yes, because I’m still sore.” You sat beside him again and muttered, “killjoy.”
Astarion stood and reached for your hands, holding them in both of his own. “Call me whatever names you like, it won’t change my mind.” He leaned forward and kissed you softly. 
You frowned at him. “Asshole.”
Kiss. “Darling.” 
“Bat brain.”
Kiss. “Beautiful.” 
“Priss.”
Kiss. “My- hey.” He pulled himself back to look down his nose at you. “I’m not a priss,  I’m simply surrounded by frumps. And Shadowheart.”
You scoffed and reached up to brush your hand through his curls, mussing them ever so slightly. 
“Hey!” he exclaimed, pushing you away and reaching up to fix his hair. 
You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him. 
He glared back and rolled his eyes. “Did I not just call you ‘beautiful?’”
“One of your frequent pet names,” you waved him off playfully and went to pick up Shadowheart and Wyll’s discarded books. “It means next to nothing.”
Astarion turned to watch you. “That’s not true.”
You laughed. “You call everyone ‘darling.’” 
“That’s different.” 
“How so?”
If he were still alive, you’d be able to feel his body heat as he stepped closer to you. He looked up towards the sky and moved his hands around as if searching for the correct words. 
“‘Darling’ has always been a lovely blanket term of endearment for victims whose names I didn’t bother to learn but needed to entice.”
You stiffened, thrown off by his honest answer. “Oh.” He met your eye. “People like feeling seen, and ‘darling’ does the job quite nicely. Call it a habit now, I suppose.”
You smirked at him. “You know my name, right?”
He smiled sideways in return. “Who are you again?”
“Good answer.”
“Honestly though, darling,” he said, before shaking his head and saying your name instead. “‘Darling’ isn’t anything special to me, that’s true,” he placed his hands firmly on your upper arms, just below your shoulders, “but you are.”
You exhaled a shaky breath, trying but failing not to shrink under his intense gaze. “Another good answer.” 
Astarion rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue. “Look at me, please.” 
You met his eye again and saw his features soften. 
“I’ve never called someone ‘beautiful’ and not meant it.”
You raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Really. In all the times you had to seduce people, you never called someone you weren’t attracted to ‘beautiful’ just to make things go faster?”
Astarion rubbed absent minded circles into your arms with his thumbs. “In those instances, I preferred referring to them as, ‘striking.’”
You snorted. “You can’t be serious.”
“I could say ‘dead serious,’ but that would be atrocious, so I won’t.”
“‘Striking,’” you repeated, laughing a little at the vagueness of it. “I guess that could mean anything.”
Astarion nodded. “Exactly.” He shifted his hands up to your shoulders. “But you, my sweet, are exquisite.” 
You smiled shyly. “I could say ‘aw shucks,’ but then you’d kill me, so I won’t.”
He pushed himself away from you again. “You are infuriating.”
Dropping the books once more, you reached for his wrist as he backed away. “No, no, I’m sorry,” you said as you brought his hand to your mouth to kiss his knuckles. “Tell me more about how beautiful I am.”
He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically before his features settled into a seductive grin. He reached forward and pulled you closer by the waist. His voice was low and flirtatious when he said, “I told you on that first night I had my way with you that you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” He shifted his head to nip at your ear, “I meant that.”
A shiver went through your body and you closed your eyes. “Really?”
Astarion scoffed. “I wouldn’t willingly attach myself to just anyone, darling.” He kissed your neck. “For one thing, there’s this gorgeous neck of yours.”
You let out an amused sigh. “Go on…”
“Your eyes,” he said, shifting up to bear his crimson gaze into yours, “they sparkle like anything. I can’t say I’ve ever seen eyes more lovely.” You blinked at him, unsure of what to say. He continued, “Especially when you’re laughing. Preferably at something clever I’ve said.”
That made you laugh. “You’re not always as clever as you think.”
He smiled back at you. “So long as I keep seeing that dazzling smile, I shall make a fool of myself.” After a beat, he clarified, “But only for you.”
If you weren’t careful, you might cry. “You sweet, stupid man.”
“Speaking of that smile; that mouth of yours. I could eat you right up.” 
He bent to kiss you deeply but you pulled away to giggle. “And you have!”
“And I have,” he agreed, succeeding in kissing you this time. 
Your mouth moved against his slowly, keeping in time with him, and you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck. As the kiss became more intense, his tongue licking into your mouth, your heart picked up speed, which sent Astarion groaning against your lips.
“That delicious heartbeat,” he said dreamily, breaking the kiss. “It’s as sweet as any song you’ve ever played, my love.”
Your eyes shot open as he brought his face down to your throat again to kiss your pulse point. Based on his body language and the sensual way he continually kissed your neck, you had a feeling he didn’t realize what he’d said. He kept talking.
“Your heartbeat means you're alive,” he placed a kiss on your collarbone. “And that you’re here,” a kiss to your chest. “With me,” a kiss atop your clothed left breast, above your pounding heart. “Not to mention it’s the source of my favorite meal,” he pulled back to look at you with a goofy grin that he quickly morphed into one of seduction. When he saw your bewildered expression, his face fell into one of concern. “What is it?”
You shook your head and blinked rapidly, attempting to keep your composure. “Astarion,” you said, your voice full of adoration, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
“What’s wrong?” His tone was instantly serious and stern. “Did something happen?” He inspected your right side as if you may have started bleeding again. 
Laughter bubbled out of your chest at his sudden shift in demeanor. This man cared for you so deeply it almost hurt. And it was so blatantly obvious to everyone but himself.
“There’s nothing wrong, dummy,” you said, tapping the tip of his nose to bring his attention back to you. 
He looked at you questioningly and saw nothing but affection in your eyes. “Then…” he leaned in closer, drawn in by the softness of your features, “what is it?”
You leaned in as well, watching his mouth and subconsciously wetting your lips in preparation for what you were about to say. “I…” you eyes began to close, “lo-”
“Tsk'va!”
You and Astarion froze, your mouths inches apart. 
“That wasn’t you, was it?” he muttered. 
You narrowed your eyes at him, swatting his cheek lightly and pulling away.
Lae’zel was standing not too far off, covered in blood, staring at the two of you with an intense ire that had you both nearly jumping away from each other. “You feeble wretches are delighting in intercourse whilst the Lich Queen lies to her kin about purification and I nearly lose my life as a result.”
Astarion straightened and looked at his nails, bored. “Oh, is that all?”
You gave him a look before stepping forward to offer comfort. “What happened?”
Lae’zel looked between you and Astarion before furrowing her brows and marching off to her tent. “She may yet purify me!” she called angrily, sounding like she was trying to convince herself more than anyone.
The rest of your party stumbled into camp not far behind. They, too, were drenched in blood and looking worse for wear. You approached them immediately, Astarion reluctantly on your heels. 
“Is everyone okay?” you quickly looked over everyone and didn’t note any major injuries.
“We’re alright,” Wyll assured and nodded to Shadowheart, “no thanks to Shadowheart.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she groaned. “Let’s see if we survive the night.” She gestured towards Lae’zel who was angrily shedding her armor and shrieking frustratedly with each discarded piece.
You looked back at the others and repeated, “What happened?”
“Our little dream visitor had some rather enlightening news for our githyanki friend,” Gale sighed, wiping his brow. 
“Well hang on now,” Karlach said. “Her people, or rather, some random doctor lady, tried to kill her first!”
Wyll nodded solemnly. “Not to mention that fearsome god of hers threatened our lives.”
You inhaled sharply. Even Astarion looked surprised. “What?”
“Why do the gods favor you people?” Astarion crossed his arms. “They never answered me when I called.”
“Now, now, Astarion,” Gale said, “this was not a meeting on the most benevolent of terms.”
Astarion rolled his eyes. “So were you able to kill her or something? Is that why you’re all drenched in what smells like an absurd amount of gith blood?”
“Kill a god?” Wyll laughed lightly. “Be serious, Astarion.”
The vampire shrugged. “I don’t know what you lot are capable of, we just met.”
“‘Just met?!’” Shadowheart scoffed incredulously. “And you think you could have taken on a god? You and what? Those sharp teeth of yours?”
“If you’d like to see what they’re capable of, darling, you need only ask.” He flashed her a malicious grin. 
“Astarion,” you caught his eye and shook your head slightly. 
“If killing that overgrown creep were an option, I gladly would have taken it,” Karlach punched at her open palm. “I can’t stand bullies.”
Halsin now entered the fray. “Peace,” he said calmly. “Everyone should get cleaned up and inspected for injuries, then we can discuss the events of the créche.”
You turned to look for Lae’zel, but her tent was empty. You assumed she’d gotten a jumpstart on the cleaning process. 
“Why is my book in the dirt?!” Shadowheart exclaimed. “Astarion!”
“I think it’s time I go for a hunt,” Astarion kissed you swiftly. “You can handle this, can’t you darling?” Then he took off at a brisk pace down the side of the mountain. 
~~~~~
After Lae’zel and the others had cleaned themselves up and bandaged their shallow wounds, you’d all sat around the fire to discuss what had occurred at the crèche and what the dream visitor had told Lae’zel of Vlaakith’s deception towards the purification process.
That night, Kith’rak Voss and his group of rebel githyanki warriors had visited you and your companions, telling you all that the Astral Prism held the key to Vlaakith’s undoing. He’d also promised to explain more and provide help once you reached Baldur’s Gate. 
“Why must they always be so cryptic,” Astarion had muttered to you from where you stood behind Lae’zel, allowing her to take the lead on this. “If the Prism is a source of unnamed power, then I think we have a right to know about it.” He pouted and you elbowed him lightly. 
As you were preparing to leave for the Shadow Cursed Lands the next day, Elminster appeared, bearing a message for Gale from Mystra. 
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you’d steamed after the old wizard left, “you’re not blowing yourself up, Gale. I won’t let you.”
“She’s right,” Astarion agreed. You turned and gave him a surprised look. He shrugged. “Sacrificing Gale to the Absolute is a waste of a perfectly good cult we could be controlling.” When you rolled your eyes, he amended, “And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.”
“I am touched, Astarion,” Gale said before turning his attention back on you. “Let’s save such certainty about my fate for the moment such a decision is upon us. You may feel differently, once we know what we’re truly up against.” 
Thus your party kept packing up in preparation to leave for the Shadow Cursed Lands, which Halsin had discovered an entrance to, not far from your camp. 
Upon entering, the suffocating nature of the dark hit you instantly, and you felt a shift in your party the more you shuffled into the area. 
Astarion held out an arm to stop you from going any further, away from the lit fire you’d found near the entrance. “Can you feel that?” 
“You mean the impending sense of doom?” Karlach asked. “Yeah, I feel it.”
Astarion ignored her. “The dark, it’s… hungry. Best watch the shadows.”
Lae’zel scoffed. “How can darkness feel anything, let alone require sustenance?”
“That’s not-” Astarion sighed. “Oh, nevermind. Just… stay close to the light.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Wyll said, grabbing a torch from the lit fire near the entrance. 
Shadowheart gazed into the distance, straining her eyes to see into the dark. “This place… there’s power in these shadows, I can sense it.”
Astarion snorted. “Shadowheart feeling one with the shadows. A little on the nose there, darling.”
Shadowheart shot him a deathly glare that had him look over at you for protection. You patted his shoulder in response.
“She’s right, though,” Gale agreed. “I’ve never seen such a concentration of shadow magic. We must forge on, but carefully. It will corrupt any who lack the power to control it.”
“Best get a move on, then,” Halsin siad, grabbing a torch in one hand and your party’s ox cart with the other. 
Wyll took the lead with his torch, while the rest of you grabbed your own. You and Astarion brought up the rear as you all made your way through the darkness. He was uncharacteristically quiet as you went. 
“Everything okay?” you asked him quietly, making sure the others wouldn’t be able to hear you. 
Astarion’s eyes were darting around, on high alert, but he looked over at you when you reached for his free hand with your own. “It feels like we’re being watched,” he said, returning his eyes to scanning your surroundings. “Hunted, even. But there’s nothing out there,” he looked in your direction but was focusing on the darkness behind you, “only more darkness.”
You nodded, and joined him in scanning the surrounding area. 
“I much prefer it when I’m the one prowling in the shadows, about to strike.”
“Ooh,” you said, shaking your voice as if telling a scary story, “scaaaary.”
Astarion looked at you with a scowl that you could see was concealing a laugh. “Sorry, did you want something?” He stepped closer to you, bringing his face inches away from yours. “Or just looking for a distraction?” He looked down at your lips. 
“I-” you looked at his lips as well and watched as his mouth formed into a grin. 
“Look alive, lovebirds,” Karlach turned back to face you two. “Movement up ahead.”
Instinctively, Astarion pulled you to him, shielding your right side with his body from possible attacks.
It was then that your party came across a group of Absolute worshippers, seeking passage across the Shadow Cursed Lands to Moonrise Towers with the help of a drider named Kar’niss, who brandished a magical lantern of some kind. You all played along, brandishing your True Soul statuses in order to gain favor and join the cultists on their journey deeper into the shadows. You even offered to play the Spider's Lyre, which Wyll had found and given to you in the Underdark, in order to summon the drider. 
Astarion made it a point of keeping you close, despite the cultists giving you no trouble.
“I’m fine,” you murmured, bumping his hip with your own.
He scoffed. “Oh, so you trust the arachnid is totally sane and won’t turn on us at any given moment?”
“Well-” He made a good point. While Kar’niss had done nothing to prove he was an imminent danger to you, his words were erratic and he’d snapped at you earlier for offering to carry his lantern.
“Wait…” Kar’niss hissed suddenly, holding his lantern aloft in front of what appeared to be a long abandoned house. “Something’s wrong, Majesty.”
“He’s right,” Astarion said quietly, drawing his daggers, “I can sense blood pumping in that building.”
“Should we do something?” Wyll asked.
“Shhh,” Shadowheart hushed. “We don’t know where they are, exactly. Do you want them to spring out at us while they still have the element of surprise?”
“Not particularly,” said Wyll, just as Lae’zel said “Yes,” and drew her greatsword from her back.
“Who’s there?” Kar’niss called. “Show yourself!”
From within the house came a male voice, shouting, “Harpers, attack!” 
“Harpers?” Karlach repeated.
The man continued yelling orders. “Kill the cultists… and get that lantern!”
“HERETICS!” Kar’niss shrieked. “VILLAINS IN THE DARK!”
“Soldier,” Karlach turned to you, a frantic look in her eyes, “Those are Harpers!”
Your own eyes widened. Harpers were known for protecting the innocent from evils across the realms. It made sense why they would want to attack cultists of the Absolute. 
“Wait!” you shouted and ran forward as Astarion called your name, trying to stop you. “We can help!” You spoke to the man leading this gang of Harpers.
The man looked you up and down as Astarion approached you with his knives still drawn, ready to pounce. “Hurt her, and you die,” he growled, dropping into a low stance.
You exhaled. “Sorry about the guard dog.”
“Careful,” Astarion said lowly, “I bite.” He gnashed his teeth at the group of Harpers surveying you closely. 
A woman with long curly hair stepped forward. “Prove we can trust you.”
You nodded and took your lute off your back,strumming a quick tune that had the deep purple magic of Shatter sparking at your fingertips. You turned back towards the cultists, who were now sandwiched between the Harpers and your party. You friends took the hint and drew their own weapons. 
“What are they doing?” Kar’niss eclaimed. “We thought they were True Souls! Traitors! Heathens!”
“Darling, are you sure about this?” Astarion asked, watching you carefully, checking for any signs that you weren’t ready to fight. 
You looked over at him and winked, casting a powerful Shatter that sent the cultists flying in every direction. 
The battle that followed was thankfully not as bad as it could have been, thanks to the help from the Harpers. Astarion had remained by your side the whole time, maneuvering the two of you out of the way whenever an attack landed closeby. He dutifully shielded your right side, stabbing the hobgoblin rather brutally when he lunged at you. 
When the battle ended and it was clear that no one had been injured too severely, you approached Kar’niss’ lantern and picked it up. Its chilly glow appeared to protect you all far better from the Shadow Curse than your long since discarded torches. 
The male Harper who you’d pleaded to at the start of the battle now approached you. “Incredible magic,” he said, indicating the lantern. “I can feel the light lifting the shadows - even those within me.”
Astarion laughed quietly at his remark, and you kicked the vampire in the shin. 
“Find us at the Last Light Inn,” the Harper said, pulling out a map and pointing to a small building by the river. 
“Thank you,” you said, marking the location on your own map.
“Be safe,” he said with a nod. “And be brave. We expect no less. Thank you for your help.” With that, he and his other Harpers made their way deeper into the shadows, accompanied by their own torches. 
“Could we not have gone with them?” Karlach asked.
“Probably had other Harperly duties to take care of,” Gale reasoned. 
“We should probably start heading that way anyway,” you said. “My magic’s depleted and I could use some sleep.”
“Agreed,” Halsin said, stretching his arms above his head and grabbing the ox cart once again. “It will be a relief to rest these weary bones upon a mattress for once.”
“Hmm,” Shadowheart mused, “is grass not cutting it for you anymore?”
“Far from it,” Halsin said. “But even I can appreciate the pleasures of a warm bed every once in a while.”
~~~~~
“Unfortunately, there is only one room available,” Jaheira said flatly when you all entered the inn and approached her at her desk.
Astarion scoffed. “Didn’t you just say outside that there were beds, plural, if we needed rest?” 
“It would seem I lied,” she said, looking through a book that you assumed showed current room assignments. “Oops.” She didn’t sound remorseful. “Looks like you’ll have to decide amongst yourselves who gets the room. The rest of you can make camp in the back. There’s plenty of room under Isobel’s light to keep you sheltered from the Curse.”
“Thank you, Jaheira!” Karlach said excitedly.
Jaheira smiled at Karlach’s enthusiasm and held out a goblet of wine to her. “Please,” she said, her tone suddenly very kind, “be welcome.” She handed a goblet to you as well. “Have a drink.”
“Oh my gods,” Karlach muttered, sharing an excited look with you. 
“To your very good health,” Jaheira said, raising her own cup towards all of you. 
Karlach was practically vibrating with excitement next to you. 
“You’ll have to excuse my friend, Karlach,” you said with a smile. “She’s very excited to meet you.”
She giggled, embarrassed. “Tsh. Yeah.” Her face fell just then, as if realizing she wasn’t being formal enough with her hero. She stooped into a low bow. “I mean… It's an honor. M’lady.”
“I will gladly drink to your health as well, Karlach.” Jaheira’s eyes sparkled with amusement. 
You raised your goblet to mimic Jaheira’s and went to take a sip, but were instead met with the back of Astarion’s hand. Your mouth crushed against his skin.
“You did not seriously just take a sip from a drink given to you by a stranger,” he said in horrified disbelief. 
“I was trying to,” you offered Jaheira an apologetic smile. “I wasn’t expecting to kiss the back of your hand,” you said through clenched teeth. 
Astarion took the goblet from you. “Give me that.”
Karlach had been just about to take a sip, but thought better of it and watched Astarion. 
He sniffed the contents of the goblet. “Klauthgrass,” he said with a wrinkle of his nose. 
“It doesn’t spoil the taste,” Jaheira offered, “if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Astarion rolled his eyes and shoved the goblet back into your hand, training his own hands above his sheathed daggers. “She’s trying to feed you a truth serum.”
“Astarion,” you said calmly, as if soothing a startled animal, “it’s okay.” You set the goblet down and reached for both of his hands, pulling them away from his daggers. “She just wants to protect her people. You can respect that, can’t you, my love?”
“Ah,” Jaheira nodded. “‘My love.’ It is admirable that the cub wants to protect his mate.” 
“She’s not-” Astarion sputtered. “We’re just-” He groaned loudly. “I don’t trust you,” he pointed an accusatory finger at the Harper. 
“Oh no,” her tone was flat again. “How ever shall I sleep tonight.”
Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink. 
He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira.
Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well. 
“Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet.
“You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms. 
Shadowheart laughed. “Isn’t the whole reason you’re being so dramatic because your mate almost died?”
“Watch yourself, cleric,” his words were icy, but Shadowheart couldn’t contain her snort.
Jaheira took another sip. “Well over a century old and yet it hasn’t lost a hint of its flavor.”
“Let’s have a taste, then,” Wyll pushed his way forward and took the goblet from you.
“I must see for myself if Astarion’s suspicions are warranted,” Lae’zel took Karlach’s goblet, “and if the wine is as good as this woman says.”
“No, no,” Astarion said sarcastically, “let’s all partake in the poison! Shadowheart? Gale? Halsin? What’s stopping you?”
Shadowheart crossed her arms. “I’ve packed my own wine that I don’t plan on sharing with you all, thank you very much.”
Gale, meanwhile, appeared to be reading a book he’d found discarded somewhere in the bar. “Pardon? Is something the matter?”
Astarion rolled his eyes and turned to Halsin who held up his hands in surrender.
“I rarely imbibe, the stuff goes right to my head. I doubt anyone wants to see that.”
“Mmm, yes, save it.” Astarion turned back to you and the others. “So we’re all going to tell the truth now, that’s great. Go ahead, Jaheira, ask away.”
“There’s an air about you,” she said, addressing you instead of the seething vampire to your right. “Something… alien.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Astarion muttered.
“Answer me true and do not lie,” she didn’t flinch when Astarion scoffed, and pressed on. “The parasite is changing you, isn’t it?”
You could feel the effects of the serum willing your mouth to form a truthful answer. You let it. “It’s trying to change me. To win me over. But I’m resisting its temptations.”
Jaheira looked you up and down. “And you’re certain you will continue to resist?” 
You nodded. “Yes.” The truth.
“Good,” you saw Jaheira’s shoulders relax. “I will take your word for it. And hold you to it, too.”
You looked over at Astarion, whose arms were still crossed. He scowled at Jaheira who turned to address him this time.
“I have every reason to be cautious.” She exhaled a frustrated sigh. “I’ve traced people like you.”
“Oh, have you.” Astarion rolled his eyes for what was likely the tenth time this evening.
Jaheira tilted her head. “People with parasites in their brains. All the way here from Baldur’s Gate.”
“A long journey, indeed,” Gale said.
Astarion laughed humorlessly. “Good of you to finally join us, Gale.”
Wyll cleared his throat. “And what of the city?” 
Jaheira turned to him this time. “The cult of the Absolute is spreading through the Gate. Quietly, quickly, and with unsettling deliberation.” 
“Gods…” Wyll breathed. “My father…” Gale patted his arm reassuringly.
“We tracked them to this ancient village,” Jaheira looked down at a map in front of her displaying the entirety of the Shadow Cursed Lands, and pointed to a village not far off, “only to be faced with a man we killed and buried over a century ago.” 
“Who was - is - he?” you asked, furrowing your brow. 
Jaheira paused briefly when she saw Karlach yawn. “General Ketheric Thorm. Remember that name. He’s the leader of the Absolutists.”
“How can we help?” you stepped forward, determined.
“Ugh,” Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose. “Really, my sweet, is now the time to be playing hero?”
“The vampire is right,” said Jaheira. “We can save this discussion for the morning.”
“Vampire?” Astarion repeated, laughing lightly. “What do you- I’m not-” he slumped. “What gave it away?”
She smirked. “Nearly everything about you. And I have experience with your kind.”
You and your companions snickered, and Astarion shot you all death glares. 
“Yes well… it’s been such a delight chatting with you, Jaheira, but I think now’s the time to discuss the room situation.” Astarion turned around so that his back faced Jaheira, effectively cutting her out of the conversation. 
She laughed. “When you decide who gets the room, it’s next to the bar, on the right.” Just as she was about to leave and take care of other matters, she turned back. “Do keep it down if it’s you two who get the room,” she gestured to you and Astarion. “The walls aren’t as thick here as you think they are. Those sitting around the bar will hear you and tell me all about it and I’d… prefer to remain in the dark if it’s all the same to you.”
“Jaheira!” Astarion scoffed. “What do you think of me?”
“Prove me wrong, vampling,” she winked at you and went on her way.
Shadowheart placed her hands on her hips. “Go on, Astarion. Make a case for why the two of you are in desperate need of the room.”
Astarion looked at his nails. “Well, darling, it’s just that we’ve had such little time to ourselves-”
Halsin interrupted. “I’m… going to set up camp outside. I yield my claim to the room and will gladly sleep under the stars. Or… I suppose there are no stars here. Regardless-” he turned on his heel and walked out the front door to reunite with your ox cart full of camp supplies.
“I’ll join him,” said Wyll.
“Right behind you,” Karlach agreed.
“Okay,” Gale looked around at those remaining. “That leaves four of us, considering you two as a unit.” He pointed between you and Astarion, the latter of which looked offended, but you grabbed his hand and squeezed it before he had a chance to argue.
Lae’zel adjusted her greatsword in her arms. “It is tradition among githyanki that those who performed best in battle should have the most comfortable sleeping chambers.”
Gale furrowed his brow. “Is that true? I’ve yet to read anything about that in my extended research on the githyanki people.”
Lae’zel shrugged.
Shadowheart spoke next. “It’s just that I drained so much of my magic healing everyone on the battlefield today. I think I deserve to sleep in comfort to replenish my power since we have no clue what tomorrow brings.” Then she quickly added, “Since we’re in her domain, I’d say it’s as if Lady Shar herself wills it.”
Astarion snorted. “Like hells she does.” He turned to Gale. “And what’s your excuse?”
“The knees,” Gale said, bending his knees for you all to hear an audible crack. “Too many nights on the ground will do no favors for one’s aching joints.”
You could see where this was going. There would be a constant back and forth until a loud argument inevitably broke out in the middle of the inn. You knew it was a bit devious, but you decided to get the jumpstart on ending the argument. 
You took Astarion’s hand. “Come on, Astarion,” you said with a sigh, “we can rough it outside for another night.”
He didn’t budge. “You can’t be serious, darling.”
“I am serious- Oh.” you paused in trying to get Astarion to follow you and reached for your right side. “Ow,” you said slowly.
Astarion said your name, his voice laced with worry.
“Oh gods,” you blinked your eyes several times, tears filling your vision.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Astarion brushed hair out of your face and placed his hands on your cheeks. 
“I don’t know,” you said shakily. “I suddenly got a sharp pain in my side. I think my wound may have opened again.” 
“Oh for gods’ sakes,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes and held out her hand to scan you for injuries with her magic. “You know what, if it’s that important to you, you can have it.” With that, she left after the others.
“Are you alright?” Gale asked. 
“I know what would make her feel better,” Astarion said, catching on to your ruse. 
“Do not say the room,” Lae’zel glowered at him.
“The room,” Astarion said anyway. 
“Chk,” she spat. “Fine. Have your precious alone time. But when they kick you out for pleasuring each other too loudly, I get the room in your stead.”
“Uh… if that’s the case, she can have it after you two.” Gale smiled painfully. “I shall concede as well. If only so I can grab some shut eye without your loud-”
“Ooowww,” you moaned.
“Good gods, man!” Astarion exclaimed, clutching you to his chest as if you were made of glass. “How can you think of sex at a time like this! My precious treasure is wounded!”
“I mean, Lae’zel alluded to it first-” Gale pointed to where Lae’zel had been standing, only to see that she had already left. “Ah. I guess I’ll take my leave as well.”
“Ow! Gods, it hurts!” you wailed. “Get out of here!” Astarion practically yelled at the wizard.
Gale sighed. “Goodnight you two.”
“Goodnight Gale!” you called after him sweetly.
When he turned back to look at you, you were limp in Astarion’s arms, one of your own arms thrown dramatically over your eyes.
“Now look what you’ve done!” It was Astarion’s turn to wail. 
“Alright!” Gale turned and held up his hands in frustration. “I’m going!”
When he was finally gone, Astarion pulled you into him for a long, passionate kiss. “You are the perfect woman,” he breathed, resting his forehead against yours. 
“I’ll have to remind you of that the next time I annoy you,” you laughed and took his hand, leading him to the room.
Jaheira’s voice sounded from the second floor, “I would appreciate it if you did not yell while my Harpers and our guests are trying to sleep.” Despite her stern tone, her expression revealed mild amusement. 
“Sorry, Jaheira,” you whispered loud enough for her to hear you from the railing she bent over. 
“Good night, cubs.” She waved her hand and left you and Astarion to settle into your room.
~~~~~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unfortunately tumblr thought this piece was too long (WHOOPS!) so I had to split it into two parts. The second part can be found here.
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wholelottaprompts · 1 day ago
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ᡣ𐭩 Emails I Can't Send Prompts ᡣ𐭩
from the album Emails I Can't Send, by Sabrina Carpenter
"And I still make excuses for you constantly."
"Sorry that I pulled the 'it's not you, it's me.'"
"You're not my friend, and baby, you never were."
"It's times like these I wish I had a time machine."
"Whatever, you're a waste of time."
“Oh, so you do have a type."
"Where else can we go?"
"I hate the way you left me dry."
"Give me a second to forget I ever really meant it."
"Don't say sorry now."
"One day, I'll make sure you get a real apology."
"I tried to look for the best in the worst."
"Oh, so you can reply."
"I'm so tired."
"You want me? I'm done."
"I wonder how many things you think about before you get to me."
"You're lucky I'm a private person."
"I'm over that son of a bitch."
"Don't make me cuss you out."
"You're so vicious."
"Nobody gets my jokes, everyone here thinks I'm fucking rude."
"Why were you somewhere else when you were next to me?"
"I can't help it, it's a habit."
"You act like a bitch."
"I never saw him and we never kissed."
"There's nothing left here to decode."
"Were you lying to me and the family?"
"If you wanted brown eyes, I could have got contacts."
"You don't feel remorse."
"That never made too much sense to me."
"I can't read your mind."
"Why'd you let me down?"
"You knew I would see that."
"Looking at you got me thinking nonsense."
"Bet you wanna love me now."
"How do you do this to me?"
"Tell me what's gonna happen."
"You knew I would notice."
"I'll drive you home."
"I don't even know, I'm talking nonsense."
"I want you there sometimes."
"She looks nothing like me."
"Your signals are mixed."
"Everything reminds me of you."
"I know you know it keeps me up."
"You drive me crazy."
"Chase me."
"Did you even give a fuck?"
"You disgust me."
"Now I'm a homewrecker. I'm a slut."
"Tell me I was more than just a decent opportunity."
"Why do you look so happy?"
"I'm so sorry for your loss."
"Thanks to you, I can't love right."
"I know now even if I tried to change that somehow, you'd end up with her anyway."
"You fit every stereotype."
"Does she step out of the spotlight so you bathe in it?"
"Now I can't even look at you."
"You said I'm too late to be your first love, but I'll always be your favorite."
"I know what you're about to say."
"Does she get up on top of you more than I would?"
"He had it coming."
"I deserve my own consideration."
"I look up from my phone and think there's no chance it's you, but it is."
"He's good for my heart, but he's bad for business."
"I've got death threats filling up semi trucks."
"How am I supposed to close the door when I still need the closure?"
"All my friends think I've gone crazy."
"I care, but I don't."
"Please fucking fix this."
"Tell me that you miss me in your life."
"It feels so good not caring where you are tonight."
"You were all I looked up to."
"Was I being lied to?"
"I got ways to find you anywhere."
"You miss me? No duh."
"Maybe we should do this on purpose sometime."
"It was all so innocent."
"What the fuck is patience?"
"I can't even stomach loving someone else."
"God, I love you, but you're such a dipshit."
"You're good at impersonating someone who cares."
"I bet your house is where my other sock is."
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frenchkisstheabyss · 2 hours ago
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♡very bad things♡
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♡ Pairing: mafia!wooyoung x chubby!fem!stripper!reader, other members mentioned
♡ Genre: smut
♡ Summary: When your best friend ropes you into working a bachelor party with her on your day off you're positive you know exactly what to expect. A bunch of gross drunk guys trying to put their hands on you. Instead you stumble into the exact opposite situation, finding yourself drawn to one man in particular who has you doing something you never thought you would.
♡ Word Count: 4.1k-ish
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♡ Warnings: woo offers you money for sex and you take it, tattooed woo, drinking, partying, this man really likes licking you, low-key body worship, teasing, pentrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, tit sucking, manhandling, multiple orgasms, orgasm control, a lil dom woo if you squint, a lil pain play, pet names (good girl, pretty, beautiful, cutie, baby), and that's about it babes.
♡ A/N: What can I say? I love Wooyoung. I love mafia boys. I love thicc strippers. Mix all that with a lengthy Megan thee Stallion playlist and this is where I ended up. As always, I hope my chubby hot girls out there enjoy this. Love yeeew ♡
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This was supposed to be your night off. You should be bed rotting in your pajamas while you shovel snacks into your mouth and binge your favorite K-drama. Instead you’re half naked in the penthouse suite of some posh high rise straddling the lap of a pretty dark haired boy who just knocked back a shot of tequila and is seconds away from licking the salt from your cleavage.
You let out a giggle at how his tongue tickles as it drags along your skin. Your fingers tangle in his hair, your sparkly pink acrylics swirling in the silky strands as you tilt his head back to let him bite down on the lime wedged between your plush lips. He grins from ear to ear, arms looping around your waist to bring you closer. Your lips are dangerously close to touching. If his cock straining against his pants didn’t give away how badly he’d love for that to happen, that lust filled glimmer in his eyes would.
When he sucks the juice from the lime you pluck it from his mouth, delicately licking the last drop from his bottom lip. He lets out a groan too low for anyone else to hear over the music that fills the penthouse but you hear it. You feel it.
“So, what’s your name again, sugar?” you ask, tugging at his hair a little harder. His eyes nearly roll back at how satisfying the pain is. 
“Wooyoung, sugar. What’s yours?” he whispers, sliding his hands down to cup your ass. You’re wearing a thong, leaving almost nothing between the warmth of his palms and the smooth skin of your ass. He gives it a gentle squeeze and you let out an airy moan that falls on his tongue as sweet as candy. 
“Mmmm” you hum, grinding down on his clothed cock just enough to make it twitch, “Be a good boy tonight and maybe I’ll tell you.” 
Your best friend Anya flicks at one of the silver star charms decorating your hair as she walks by hand in hand with an equally pretty boy you’re sure you heard someone call “Yeosang” earlier.  
“She’s not being a tease is she?” she jokes.
You roll your eyes, playfully swatting her hand away, “I’m not a tease.” 
Wooyoung only shrugs, “She is a tease but that’s okay. I like it.” He squeezes your ass harder and a little squeak escapes you. 
“Hey! I said you had to be good” you scold, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. 
He releases his hold on you, fingertips petting the small of your back, “I’m sorry. I’ll be good.”
“You swear?” you pout, enjoying how easily he’s gotten wrapped around your finger. 
Wooyoung raises a pinky and hooks it around yours, “Pinky swear.”
For a fleeting moment you catch yourself falling for his charms. It’s difficult not to when he’s this hot. In fact, every man in this room is drop dead gorgeous. When Anya first asked you to work this bachelor party with her you were dreading it. Bachelor parties are usually filled with drunk, messy men who can barely string a sentence together let alone be charming.
It’s always good money but you weren’t in the mood to be gawked at by a bunch of asshole frat boys or handsy businessmen so you had every intention of telling her no. You much preferred your bed to a second of that but after all the times she’s had your back you couldn’t bring yourself not to do her this favor so you threw on your cutest lingerie, strapped on your stilettos, and got your cute ass over here. 
Much to your surprise and relief this is nothing like other bachelor parties you’ve worked. Of course they wanna see you naked. They wanna touch you, watch you dance for them. That’s the same with every man. But this group is so generous, so sweet, so willing to tend to the two of you that you’ve almost forgotten that you were working.
“Could you be a sweetheart and grab me a drink?” you ask, batting your eyelashes, “My throat’s a little dry and someone drank my last shot of tequila.” That someone being him. 
Wooyoung laughs, lifting you off of him and placing you carefully at his side, “Of course. Anything for you. What do you want?”
As Wooyoung rises from the couch you swing your feet up and he catches you by the ankles, slowly massaging your legs. You shrug, nibbling at your lip while his hands slip closer to your pillowy thighs, “Surprise me.”
“Surprise you…” he nods, his fingers sinking into your thighs, “Okay. I can do that.” He leans forward, kissing the inside of your knees before he wanders off to get you a drink.
Lying back on the couch you catch an inverted view of Anya chatting up Yeosang and finding any excuse to feel his muscles through his shirt. After a bit another man slips in beside her. You’re able to eavesdrop close enough to hear her say his name. Jongho. You’re sure he’s the youngest of the group. He’s quiet, difficult to read, but such a cutie. 
Speaking of cuties, you wonder how the man of the night is doing. Hongjoong—that’s the one name you absolutely had to remember—he’s the one getting married in a few days and you must admit his fiance’s one lucky girl. He was kind when the two of you arrived, offering you drinks and making sure you settled in fine, but he’s acted so innocent all night.
You’re sure he still hasn’t moved from that spot in the corner where he’s been sitting nursing the same drink all night. Every few minutes he checks his phone. You’re sure it’s to text his fiance. Some girls might be offended by that but you can’t bring yourself to care. You find it quite sweet actually and you get paid either way.
“Aaah…” you gasp at the sensation of something cool kissing your skin. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you look up to find Wooyoung standing over you balancing an ice cold glass of something on your belly. 
He giggles at the shock on your face, sliding it up your body to watch how your back arches in response. “For you, pretty girl.”
Carefully you take the glass, admiring the electric blue syrup swirling around inside of it. You raise it to your lips, sipping at the sweet liquid. Wooyoung kneels down beside you, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind your ear as you drink. He studies your side profile in silent fascination, admiring all of the finer details of your face. It’s a cliche thought, he knows this, but he can’t help wondering how such a delicately beautiful creature ended up in a line of work like this. Then again, with a face like this and a body like that, why wouldn’t you make men pay to be in your presence?
“How’s it taste?” he asks, only barely breaking himself from his trance.
His voice is low and dripping with need. His breath skims your neck like a trail of kisses and you catch yourself wishing that it were. Your pulse races, the tingling between your thighs growing too intense to ignore. You turning a guy on at work? It happens everyday. A guy turning you on? That’s never happened before, not during a single night on the job, but there’s a first time for everything isn’t there?
“You tell me,” you say, offering him a sip. As you do so your hand trembles enough for some of the alcohol to spill over the brim and onto your fingers. 
Wooyoung locks eyes with you, deep pools of brown pulling you into his gaze. Setting the glass down on the floor, he takes you by the wrist, gently stroking it as he presses your fingers to his lips. His tongue darts out, twirling around each and every finger to lick them clean. You never could’ve predicted that something like this would get you wet but here you are. That tingling between your thighs? It’s unbearable now. You squeeze them together, bringing your attention to how wet he’s managed to get you. You hate it and love it all at once. 
“You taste delicious” he grins, kissing your inner wrist. 
It makes you shiver and you pull your hand back, fighting to get a hold on yourself, “I thought we were talking about the drink, not me.”
Wooyoung shrugs, running his fingers down your side, “I don’t know, were we?” 
You should stop him but lust has you locked in place, letting his hand venture below your waist without a word of protest on your part. He squeezes the plush of your thigh, tucking a thumb between them so that it hovers a mere inch away from the wet fabric clinging to your warmth. In this moment everyone else in the room fades away. Even the music seems as if it’s traveled miles to reach your ears. You can only focus on each other. The way your breath hitches the closer he gets to stroking your clit through the lace. The way his eyes seem to twinkle as he watches you grow more and more needy for him as the seconds pass. His thumb’s so close you can almost feel it. Something in you tells you to shift your body down on the couch a little bit, close the distance and give yourself that relief you want so badly. 
“You didn’t pay for that” you snap, shooing his hand away, “That’s not on the menu, babe.” 
Without missing a beat Wooyoung retrieves his phone from his back pocket, swiping on the screen a few times before handing it over to you. It’s a CashApp screen and the keyboard’s already up for you to type your name into the search bar.
“Can I request something off the menu then?”
You shoot upright on the couch, shocked by what you see on the screen. “You’re joking” you laugh, motioning to hand his phone back.
Wooyoung stops you before you can, his expression more serious than you’ve seen it all night. “I want you.”
“You can’t afford me.”
“Try me…”
You wait for him to give it up but he doesn’t waver, not in the slightest. You huff, finding your account and tapping in an amount triple your fee for dancing. “There. You happy?” 
Wooyoung happily takes his phone back, hitting a single button before presenting you with the screen. “As long as you are.”
“Holy shit” you gasp, eyes glued to the screen. He actually did it. He sent you the money. Truth be told if he kept up all the teasing you probably would’ve slept with him before the night was over anyway but the fact that he was willing to pay for it? That’s a twist you didn’t see coming. 
“You…you’re crazy” you giggle, cupping that wonderfully defined face of his, “Fucking insane.”
Wooyoung doesn’t seem offended by that in the least. In fact, he takes it as a compliment. “But you like it…” he grins as he stands back up, sweeping your drink up with one hand and extending the other to you, “Don’t you?” 
You stare at him defiantly, refusing to respond. Not that you need to. The answer’s written all over your face in that faint smile you couldn’t chase away if you tried. A smile that lingers there as he takes you by the hand, guiding you down the nearby hallway and into the master bedroom of the penthouse.
The rest of the penthouse is gorgeous, the sort of place you only see in design magazines, and the master bedroom’s no different. It’s dimly lit with soft white light emitting from a sleek Swedish lamp in the corner. The pristine white walls are adorned with intricate paintings, all originals. All of the furniture’s designer, most notably the king size bed positioned across the room opposite ceiling to floor windows that overlook the city. You’re up much too high for anyone to see you but it feels like you can see the whole world from here. 
Wooyoung quickly takes notice of how charmed you are by the view. “You can check it out if you want,” he says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, “I’m not in a rush.” He can’t hold back his amusement at how giddy you are rushing over to the window to take in the sights. You’re quite possibly the cutest thing ever. 
“Whose place is this anyway?” you ask, unable to peel yourself away from the twinkling lights of the city below. Usually you steer clear of personal questions—it’s better that way—but something about Wooyoung makes you comfortable enough to ask. 
Chugging the rest of your drink, he lays back on the bed, glaring up at the spiraling design on the ceiling. “You remember the tall one? Kinda goofy?”
You run down a mental list of the boys at the party and narrow it down to two. “Which one?”
Wooyoung nearly chokes laughing, “Which one? Oh my god.”
“What?” you pout, truly not meaning any harm, “There’s two of them.”
“Mingi, the one with the deep voice. This is his place. He moved in, I don’t know, a month ago. Nice isn’t it?”
“Do you all live like this?” There you go again, asking questions you know you shouldn’t.
Wooyoung turns to look at you, his reflection immediately capturing your attention. “For the most part, yeah.”
You spin around to face him, on the verge of melting under the heat of his gaze, “Are you a drug dealer or something, Woo?”
He lets that question linger in the air, gesturing for you to come to him. “Come here, beautiful. You’re too far away.”
You skip over to the bed, your body jiggling so deliciously that he’s tempted to send you back over to the window just to see you come back again. Hopping onto the bed, you throw one leg across his waist, straddling his lap. “Better?”
He cups your cheek, bringing you in so that you’re face to face, his lips skimming yours once more. “Better.” 
“You didn’t answer my question” you whisper, rocking your hips against a bulge that’s even harder for you than before. 
Wooyoung loops an arm around your waist, keeping you flush against him, “If I answer your question will you tell me your name?”
“Mmhmm” you whine at the friction between you.
The fabric of your panties is flimsy enough that you can feel the texture of his pants—the pressure of his cock straining against them. It makes your mind go fuzzy. Wooyoung knows this because you’re doing the same to him.
“I’m a very bad man who does very bad things but not that. Not anymore” he confesses, flipping you onto your back in one effortless motion.
Any attempt you could’ve made to respond is silenced when his lips finally crash into yours. You teased him for hours, taking every opportunity to almost kiss him knowing from the start how badly he wanted you. Now that he can finally have you—satisfy the hunger that’s been building inside all night—he’s ravenous, holding nothing back.
“Your turn” he whispers between your lips, flipping you onto your back in one fluid motion, not once breaking the kiss. 
The room’s still spinning when you part your lips to answer his question. As a rule you always give a fake name—one of the pretty ones that you and Anya came up with to stop creeps from finding you out in the real world—but for some reason you can’t lie to Wooyoung. With him kissing you like he wants to devour your very soul, the only possible thing you can spill out is the truth.
Wooyoung kisses his way down your neck, inhaling the sugary scent of your perfume as he drags his tongue between your breasts. “Such a pretty name. I like it.”
“I…I like your name too” you stutter, fingers combing through his hair, “Wooyoung’s a pretty name.”
Catching the fabric of your top between his teeth, he tugs harshly, causing the knots holding it together to slip. Your lush breasts fall free from your top, the tiny hairs on your arm standing up at the feeling of your stiff buds brushing the fabric of his shirt. 
“Mmm, say it again” he groans, the tip of his tongue swirling around your nipple, “It sounds so fucking good when you say it.” 
Taking your bud between his teeth, he sucks harshly at it, treating you to a combination of pain and pleasure that’s nothing short of addictive. Wedging a knee between your legs, he pushes your thighs apart, reaching down to knot your panties in his fist. Your body jerks as he snatches them away, leaving your dripping pussy exposed. Slipping two fingers between your folds, he spreads you open, letting his middle finger slide back and forth across your clit. 
“Wooyoung…mmph…” you moan, arching into his touch, “Woo…aah”. 
Wooyoung dips his fingers down to your clenching hole, stretching you open enough to give you a taste of what your body’s begging for.
“You want more, baby?” he teases, drooling around your swollen nipple. 
“Yes, please” you beg, your breath hitching as his fingers, already slick with your arousal, push into you. 
His movements are slow at first. Two fingers sliding in and out of you, gently stroking your pulsing walls. Your walls are so velvety and warm that he could spend all night petting them. No pussy’s ever felt this good wound around his fingers. His cock aches at the thought of how heavenly it must be to be inside of you. But that’s not truly where his head is right now. He’s solely focused on sneaking a third finger into your pussy, quickening his pace to make sure you never stop making all these pretty noises.
Wooyoung’s fingers are like magic and he’s insanely attentive, effortlessly picking up on your sweet spots and hitting them every single time. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, pushing you so close to your high that your lips are quivering. Wooyoung may be a very bad man who does very bad things but he’s so so good to you.
You tug at his hair, wanting another kiss but unable to form the words to ask for one. Guessing what you want—he wants it too—he leans up and pulls you into another kiss. Your lips collide right on the edge of your orgasm, his tongue dancing with yours as the euphoria hits and you clench around his fingers. 
“Good girl” he praises, “Are you always this gorgeous when you cum or is this just for me?”
His admiration only heightens the intensity of your orgasm. That coupled with the fact that he hasn’t let up on you has you ready to fall apart right here and now. After a couple seconds you figured he’d slow down, give you some time to recover, but no, he just keeps going.
“One more for me” he whispers, bringing his thumb up to rub your clit. 
“Woo, I can’t. Too much” you whine, grabbing onto his shirt hard enough to tear it.
He doesn’t care if you do. He meant it when he said you’re gorgeous when you cum. Your faces are perfection and your body’s glowing. When you look like this you could tear up everything he owns and he’d let you get away with it. 
“You can do it, baby. Just look at you. You’re already so close again, aren’t you?” he coos, kissing you on the cheek.
A split second. That’s all you get to come down, if you can call it that, before the pressure’s building again and you’re coming so hard it has your ears ringing. This time he shows you mercy, gradually slowing his motions, showering you in the sweetest kisses while you come down. Climbing off of you, he stands at the foot of the bed, licking his drenched fingers.
“I was right. You are delicious.” 
You roll your eyes, trying hard not to give away how sickeningly hot you find him. “Are you always like this?”
There it is again. That mischievous grin that he’s been flashing you all night. The one you can blame for getting you into this situation to begin with. He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing a tattooed chest you just can’t wait to dig your nails into.
“Like what?” he asks, undoing his belt. 
“Like a menace” is what you want to say but you can’t. Wooyoung’s pants are at his ankles now and he has the nerve to stand there like he doesn’t know how glorious his cock is. You don’t need a fully lit room to see how flawless, how beautifully veined, how totally made for you it is. 
“Like what, cutie?” he repeats, grabbing your ankles and dragging you to the edge of the bed. Tucking his hands behind your knees, he pushes your legs back, spreading them open to push the head of his cock up against your twitching pussy. 
You moan at the satisfying warmth of his arousal coating your slit, hips pressing down to stretch yourself with the tip.
“I don’t even know anymore. I’m just so…so…”
“So pretty…” he grunts, driving his length into you so deep that you feel it in your chest. Every word he says is accompanied by a thrust that rocks you to your core, little dots of color decorating your vision. “So beautiful. So fucking sexy when you take my cock.”
Your pussy’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. It’s enough to make his head spin and his knees weak. His cock’s never indulged in something this decadent. It’s so good—maybe too good. When you first walked through the door tonight Wooyoung knew it would be. Something about you said you were sitting on a pussy like gold and he wasn’t wrong. Not even a little bit.
You can’t even pretend that you don’t feel the same way. You’re bouncing back against his cock, clamping down on him like you’ll die if he pulls out. Every stroke of his cock floods your senses with pleasure, worsening the moisture leaking from your needy hole onto the expensive sheets. It’s so overstimulating. The length. The thickness. How he throbs in response to every flutter of your walls, filling you up exactly how you need to be filled.
Shifting angles, he mercilessly drills into your sweet spot, making you lose control of your already weakened limbs. You can’t raise your hips. You can’t bounce back on him. You can’t do anything at all besides lay there and take every inch of cock that he feeds you. It’s only a matter of time before your breath’s hitching again, that airy feeling overtaking your body. 
“Look at me” he commands when your head falls back, glossy eyes rolling to the back of your head. Letting one of your legs drop, he slaps a hand down on the softness of your belly and grips it hard enough to sting. 
“Mmph, Woo…” you moan, teary eyes finding his gaze as your nails rake across the sheets. There’s a darkness in his expression that intimidates you as much as it turns you on.
A smile tugs at his lips at the sound of your broken voice moaning his name. “You look at me when you cum or I’ll stop. You don’t want me to stop, do you, baby?” 
You shake your head, pouting cutely. You make him weaker than you can imagine but that’s not enough for him. He knows you can do better than that. 
Slowing down to an agonizingly slow pace, he drags his fingers down your belly to play with your clit. “I don’t believe you. I think you want me to stop.”
“No, don’t stop” you whine, rocking up and down his length, “I won’t look away. I promise. Fuck me, Youngie, please.”
Wooyoung folds for you in an instant, fucking into you hard enough that the headboard’s rocking. You reach out for his hand and he gives it to you, fingers interlacing with yours as your high takes you under.
This is the third time he’s seen you cum—the third time he’s watched you moan and arch and cry out for him—and each time’s more perfect than the last. Good thing this isn’t the last. In fact, it’s far from it. You’re his for the night and by the time he’s done with you he’ll have every face you make, every desperate little moan, committed to memory. 
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