#Sex and kissing are rather decidedly not a thing I like

[wibben]

As Stars Go By

You and Choso thoroughly enjoy your first vacation together up in the mountains.

↳ pairing: boyfriend! choso kamo x afab! reader

↳ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, sub! choso, sex (p in v), creampie, breeding if you squint, choso is a real sweetie pie, established relationship, whimpering, pathetic male mess! choso, art by @/yume041624

↳ wc: 7,233

↳ notes: this was posted on my ao3 quite a while ago, but I've finally decided to make my first foray into tumblr! So this is a cross post but nonetheless I hope you enjoy, and bear with me while I figure this whole thing out <3 tagging: @jasminelee324 , @verydreamerfairy I hope I did that right, feeling a bit grandma-esque here.

“—You were right, it’s kinda cold, huh—”

“—let me take you inside—”

“— like hell we’re going inside already.”

You press yourself closer to Choso's side, knees hiked up to your chest as you lean into the warmth of his arm. The uneven bumps of the grass beneath the picnic blanket serve as the perfect excuse to nestle even closer, shifting your weight onto your hip and burrowing into his flank so that you’re pointedly squished hip to hip. Glued, unmoving, decidedly not going inside.

This trip had been in the making for a while—a sweet escape to a cabin in the mountains. The epitome of rustic charm , complete with an authentic outdoor shower, access to a serene lake at the foot of your mountain retreat, miles of scenic hiking trails, and an unparalleled view of the stars. Each detail meticulously planned, every moment a step closer to this perfect getaway that you’ve been dreaming of for months.

It was going to be perfect. A slice of heaven on earth, really. The antithesis of the bustling city you both so desperately needed a break from.

The only problem?

You envisioned this place in the summer to properly enjoy your itinerary. Instead, you now watch as blue frost ensnares dew-kissed blades of grass around your blanket, winter’s chill stealthily settling around you and clouding your breath with every disgruntled exhale.

A booking error, they told you. A glitch in the system; but not to worry. You weren’t eligible for a refund, but you were welcome to reschedule—if you didn’t mind the year and a half long waitlist for another chance to disappear from the world together.

But you minded. A lot . You spent too long coordinating this trip. Time off and away from the usual commitments that chain you to everyday life, the mental ticking countdown to the day you finally get to leave. You couldn’t bear to push it off; and you would rather die than see the kicked-puppy look on Choso’s face if you were forced to tell him your vacation was canceled. You and Choso were going on vacation, and that was final—sacrificing a few toes to the cold was a small price to pay.

The outdoor shower was out of the question, and so was the lake, half-slush and uninviting. But the stars? Those weren’t going anywhere.

“I kind of forgot stars existed,” you muse softly.

Choso hums in acknowledgment beside you, his hand rubbing firmly up and down your arm, generating a fire-starting friction to keep you warm. 

You continue. “It's like... all the planes, and towers, and cars back home, y'know? I swear—when I was a kid, I saw them every night. Not really sure when they disappeared. I don’t think I ever noticed, never mind really missed it until now. You know?” With your head resting against his shoulder, you can feel the slow rise and fall of his chest, hear the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. It makes you feel warmer too, even if only just.

The silence that follows is a comfortable, familiar companion. Choso has always been a man of few words, but you know he listens intently to every word you say, his attention filling the gaps louder than anything he could speak. It just makes the things he does say all the more profound when he finally does say them.

“I’ve never seen the stars before.”

You can always trust Choso to say something unintentionally heartbreaking. You already knew this, knew he never had the opportunity to see them with his whole life spent under smoggy light-polluted skies, but hearing him say it so matter-of-factly without any regret or longing, so unperturbed by his lack of experiences, bothers you . It makes you all the more determined to fill his empty chalice with more memories than it can possibly hold; to leave it and him overflowing with a life well and truly lived.

“Well they’re pretty, right?” You needle.

“They are,” he agrees, and his arm tightens around your shoulder, drawing you even closer into the firm curvature of his body. 

“But you are beautiful—” “— I am cold —”

Choso chuckles, the sound low and melodic as he slips off his jacket and wraps it over your shoulders, pre-warmed with the heat of him and you smile, so utterly besotted, as you draw his sleeve up to your mouth to cover the saccharine dripping of your happiness.

“There,” he murmurs, and you can feel his lips press gently against your temple, brushing aside your hair with the spun bow of his smile. “Beautiful, and less cold.”

Your laughter is warm and fond, like air slowly escaping from a balloon, releasing the swell of adoration inside your ribcage before it makes you burst. “You’ve gotten good at that,” you tease.

You can almost feel the slow furrow of Choso’s brow without looking, the way the left side wrinkles just a bit more than the right, his mouth forming a curious frown. Innocently, he asks, “Good at what?”

You love that expression—the thoughtful curiosity, always eager to learn something new, even about himself, because it’s a reflection of how you see him in a mirror he could never hold. With a grin on your face, you tilt your head back to gaze up at him, and your heart promptly swoops down to your diaphragm and crashes straight through it.

His eyes are cast up at the stars, eyelids pulled back so far they’re almost lost in the exhausted bruises of his sockets. The way they reflect the stars above, it's as if each tiny distant light is captured and magnified within them, turning his dark irises into shimmering cosmos of their own. You see constellations in the depths of his wide gaze, entire universes dancing just for you—and you couldn’t be more lost in orbit if you launched yourself directly into the stratosphere.

You're grateful for the rush of blood that warms your frozen cheeks as you stare openly, every beat of your heart directing more heat up to your face. The moonlight bathes his face in a gentle glow, turning his hair into strands of liquid mercury. Each one catches the light, shimmering threads of pure moonbeam woven into his skull. He looks almost otherworldly, a celestial being come down to earth to grace you with as divine a gift as his warm jacket—

Feeling the weight of your gaze, his attention is reeled downward. The macrocosm held within his eyes shifts, now focusing solely on you, and you feel as if you’re the very center of that universe now. It was so easy for him to look away from the breathtaking sight of the stars up above you—because as far as Choso’s concerned, you were the one who hung them there.

“Good at what?” Choso repeats, seeming oblivious to the almost religious experience you just underwent simply by looking at him—he wants an answer. He’s curious.

Suddenly, your intention of teasing him feels so utterly withered. Dead on arrival to your tongue that you almost can’t bring yourself to say it because of just how sincere it feels now. You chuckle sheepishly, seeking escape in the milky way above you but finding yourself drawn back into his gravity instead with a slow sloping smile. “Being all… romantic, ” you mutter. You were cold only moments ago, but the blush on your face keeps you toasty now.

His eyes widen slightly, a look of innocent surprise washing over his face. "Really?"

You nod. "Yeah, really."

Choso beams, and your mind almost short-circuits at how devastatingly beautiful it makes him. You’d think the blood rushing to your head might power your brain, make it easier to think, but it does the exact opposite; it boils you dumb, leaving your skull little more than a soupy bone bowl.

Without thinking—because how could you really? —you lean up and kiss him gently to taste that sweet smile of his.

It’s Choso’s turn to flatline then as your lips brush his, warm and firm with just enough give for him to want to sink into you forever. No matter how familiar the sensation or how many times you kiss him, he isn’t used to it. He might never be used to it. He hopes he never will be. 

When you pull away, he makes a small noise of complaint, a soft whimper that tugs a fine red thread connected directly between your thighs. His eyes, wide and vulnerable, chase after your lips, his body moving on instinct until he's tentatively leaning over you. There’s a raw, unspoken need in his gaze that makes your breath falter.

He pauses, his forehead resting against yours, his breath clouding white and breathing him directly into your lungs as you inhale each other's cold vapor. “...Wanna kiss you,” he whispers, his voice tinged with a soft plea that makes your abdomen tighten.

You reach up, your fingers threading through his hair, gleaming like spun silver and breaking free dark commas that hang messily over his forehead. His brow pinches in a look that almost spells confusion—a familiar expression of utter bafflement at how badly he needs to feel you. He’s experienced much more with you, felt you, tasted you, had you in every way that matters, but somehow a simple kiss always galvanizes his desire like nothing else.

His lips find yours again, more insistent this time as his tongue dips into you. You gasp as he moans at the taste of your mouth, your fingers tangling into the roots of his loose hair, holding your celestial deity willingly captive to your body; tied through fingers rather than Promethean chains.

He shivers against the feel of your nails on his scalp, spurring him to bear down on you further with a needy groan. All at once, Choso’s ardor is a palpable, desperate thing. His hand roams your back, bunching his jacket in his fist but not daring to slip beneath, only pressing you closer to him. Even with that barrier, his touch scalds you, making you arch up at his insistence, molding against his hovering chest with your arms slung around his shoulders for support.

Your lips part for a moment, your nose wedged against his as you catch your breath. You both sink so seamlessly deep into each other that its an effort not to get lost completely, though between the two of you, it’s always Choso who has a harder time clawing his composure back; displayed by the displeased whine that escapes his throat before he pulls you back in with a gentle but insistent push against your lower spine.

You move with the gesture, your body turning fluid against his as you roll over, straddling him now as he lays flat on the blanket. Your hands brace against the firm planes of muscle that band his chest, fingers splayed as if to feel and grab and claim all of him at once, and god —it’s never quite enough. You crash into him again, ruled by gravity, only you don’t know which of you is the object and which is the ground, only that a collision was inevitable. 

Choso’s hands shake as they slide to your hips, pinning you against his waist as your tongue thrusts back into his mouth and you were loath to ever have left it. His lips seal around yours, hungry as he sucks on your tongue with a wanton moan swallowed directly into your mouth and your teeth bare in a victorious grin. 

His hand cups the back of your neck, hesitant and unsure despite the number of times you’ve told him he can be much firmer with you. In reprimand you nip his lower lip between your teeth. Choso gasps, his hips automatically bucking up into you to smash his straining cloth-covered cock into your crotch—the sudden sensation only making him whine again, wrenching his lips from yours with a flustered gasp. 

He hadn’t realized how turned on he was just from this. Hadn’t felt it until you did, and suddenly he’s mortified, frozen and statuesque as he tries and fails to will himself soft.

“S–sorry. ‘msosorry– '' He chokes, and now he’s caught your blush like it's something contagious. You can feel his cock jump beneath you, hard and urgent, a wordless plea that has your stomach immediately tightening in response, like your insides have been gripped in an iron fist and twisted.  

You’ve never once had to question whether Choso wants you or not. He’s never been subtle, and he’s never tried to be. It’s flattering in a way that instantly thrusts your brain into the realm of reciprocity, your own desire pooling hot and slick between your thighs, making you acutely aware of just how much you need him too.

His eyes, wide and dark, gaze up at you with a need that makes you feel like a goddess descended from the heavens, and you grin, all luminous teeth and coy intent. “What’re you sorry for?” you whisper, hovering nose to nose as your hips chase his back to the ground.

“I–” He swallows, the pretty dusted blush on his cheeks darkens, the night sky painting him in shades of monochrome, but you know just how red he can get. He shakes his head, but his fingers don’t move from your hips; if anything, he holds tighter. As if there was a chance in hell of you disappearing.

“You…?” You press coyly, to which Choso groans in breathless exasperation. And because he’s taking too long for your liking, you decide to encourage him with a slow, rolling grind against the pinned tent in his pants. He stiffens—both his cock and his entire body going rigid before his head thumps back against the ground wordlessly.

Choso’s lower lip trembles, and you so badly want to sink your teeth into it. “Don’t tease me…” he whispers pleadingly, his mouth curving into that awkward smile you know and love.

And god, do you love him. So much so, that you decide to be merciful…a move that might seem altruistic, if your own panties weren’t thoroughly soaked and sticking and in desperate need of removal. Your mercy is just as much for yourself as your shoulders roll, starting to shrug off his jacket—

Choso’s eyes widen and his hands fly from your hips to your shoulders, catching the garment before it can fall. The move was so sudden that it surprises you, making you recoil and sit deeper into his lap. Choso’s eyes flutter and he clenches his jaw with a grunt, but he shakes his head. “What are you doing?”

You blink down at him, a slow and confused smile building on your lips. “I–I thought…do you not want to —?”

“ Oh —I do. Very bad. But we–we can’t out here.” Choso tugs the jacket back up, pulling it tight in front of you.

“Cho–there’s nobody around for miles. Maybe…maybe raccoons or something, but—”

“You’ll get cold,” he interrupts resolutely. His brow is set low over his eyes, stubborn and unyielding. “I don’t want you to be cold.”

You can’t imagine ever feeling cold again with how warm you feel now. Your heart swells with affection, and you smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’ll be fine,” you reassure him. But his hands remain on your shoulders, firm and insistent, and you realize he’s serious.

“Choso…”  you murmur, your voice a seductive purr that sends a visible shiver down his spine. You delight in the way that the mere sound of his name rolling off your tongue makes his body soften and tremble. “Do you want to take me …” You let your words trail off as your hand drifts down over his chest, lingering suggestively just above his navel. Your fingers trace a teasing path lower, slow and unashamedly provocative, “…inside?"

As if your words were a trigger and he was waiting for you to say exactly that, Choso reacts with breathtaking speed, scooping you up effortlessly and throwing you over his shoulder. His grip on your thighs is firm, unyielding, and you let out a surprised squeal, heart pounding as he strides toward the cabin without hesitation, carrying you as if you weighed nothing.

You laugh, half in shock and half in delight, as he practically kicks the door open and steps inside with you. He doesn’t bother with the stairs or even look for a bedroom. Instead, his eyes dart around the entryway, searching for something, anything, to set you on. He zeroes in on a tall table in the foyer, decorated with knick knacks—a bronze statue bust of a deer, a small clock, and other rustic-y decor items.

Evidently, this will just have to do. He sets you down on the table with a bit more force than intended, your butt thumping solidly against the lacquered wood. Trinkets scatter, your body sweeping them aside like a battering ram and knocking the fragile clock dangerously close to the edge. The table wobbles slightly under your weight, sturdy but clearly not meant for this kind of use.

Choso stands between your knees, nudging them apart with his thighs as his long, cold fingers cup your face with a tenderness that wholly departs from his urgency. His lips crash against yours for a second time in a searing kiss, full of raw need and longing. He moans quietly into your mouth, the sound vibrating straight through you like a knife to the gut.

He grinds himself against you, his cock hard and throbbing beneath his clothes as he presses between your legs. The movement is subconscious on his part, an instinctive need for friction that his body knows exactly where to find even with his brain being too addled to seek it. You can’t help but respond encouragingly, your hips moving to meet him with a firm upward swipe of your pussy—as much as you can while pinned like a taxidermied butterfly to the table.

Choso groans, his focus shoved even closer to the abyssal edge of total composure loss. He isn’t sure what to do with his hands. He wishes so badly that he had more of them. To hold your face, to rip your clothes off like a wild animal, to encourage your hips against him harder if he were to be so bold. But he only has two hands, and he isn’t bold, just eager. So eager is he that his hands frenzy over your body, everywhere and nowhere all at once, making you laugh low and husky against his lips. 

His hand tangles in your hair but is quick to leave it, moving instead to cup your jaw but no–that isn’t quite right either. From your jaw, to your neck, then to your spine, and he groans and shakes his head at his own indecision. Not enough hands. He finally pulls the jacket from your body and tosses it to the floor.

“Too many layers…” he mutters. But the removal of those layers…that does something more for him. 

So he makes a choice. Clothes off. Clothes off is good.

His hands fly from your face down to the hem of your shirt, tugging at it without ceremony or preamble. You raise your arms above your head to help, but his refusal to part his lips from yours makes the task harder. The shirt gets stuck beneath your chin, rucked up over your breasts, and he growls, forced to pull away just to finish the job.

You giggle as he steps back, helping you wrestle your shirt over your arms where it catches, momentarily blinding you. Eventually, he frees it from your body, and as it falls away, you catch Choso's flushed face in the flickering orange light of the fire. He stands there, gazing at you, almost transfixed.

He’s seen you shirtless before. He's mapped every inch of your body with his hands and his mouth like a blind man reading braille. But without fail, the visual of your shirtless body, breasts heaving with each forceful breath, leaves him completely stunned. He stands there, frozen and sedated, as if he simply isn’t allowed to touch something so perfect. Like you should be kept high up on a shelf somewhere, not down here with the likes of him.

His lip wobbles needily, eyes blown wide and spun like glass as he drinks you in like he might never see you again. With a sure smile you reach behind you to unclip your bra with deft fingers, and the sight of the fabric falling away from your skin as if in slow motion snaps Choso’s restraint like a toothpick.

You watch as Choso yanks his shirt off too, shoulders hunching forward to slip it off over his head and he’s back on you in the same breath. There’s no quiet moment for you to drink in the sight of his tightened abs or his broad, tense shoulders trembling. He’s almost selfish in his consumption of you, taking and giving nothing back, though not intentionally. He's simply impatient, unapologetically needy.

His tongue plunges desperately into your mouth, sloppy and squirming, as he presses his chest against yours, craving your warmth and sandwiching your breasts between your bodies as he molds to you. Your nipples graze against his pecs, tripping the sharp wire that sends electric jolts of pleasure straight to your clit. You inhale sharply, sucking the oxygen straight from his mouth in a greedy gasp.

Instead of returning to his mouth, your lips veer to the side, trailing fire as you plant open-mouthed kisses along the sharp line of his jaw and down his throat. You scatter pretty roses along Choso’s collar bone with sharp nips of your teeth, quickly soothing the thorny sting with your tongue. 

His head falls back, shoulders taut and quivering, his lips parted so prettily that you’d love to slip your fingers between them, if your hands weren’t already occupied tugging at the waistband of his pants. Your fingers tease the edge, your pinky slipping just underneath and it’s as if you’ve just reminded him— oh, right, he wanted your clothes off.

His hands are a flurry of movement again, batting yours away in his haste to reach you. He grips your pants, pulling hard . With one hand clinging to his shoulder and the other to the edge of the table for stability on its increasingly unstable surface, you raise your hips. "Wait-..." but you're too slow.  Choso is as strong as he is predictably impatient, and he tears your pants from your body with an explosive rip. You gasp, and he sheepishly mumbles, "Sorry," though he isn’t sorry at all. In fact, if you never wore pants again, they wouldn’t get in the way and he wouldn't be forced to tear them off you.

You laugh exasperatedly as he takes a half step back, his fingers digging into the fabric of his pants with such urgency that his briefs come down with them. The sight makes you practically salivate . His cock springs free, red and ready, smacking against his stomach which concaves as he hisses, shying away from the sudden contact with himself. It bobs back down, horizontal and already pearled with pre-cum.

“You’re so pretty—”

“—Sah…–says you—” Choso objects bashfully, all but tripping over himself to close the meager distance he created between you. He reaches for your hip at the same moment your fingertips skim his waist and he squeaks adorably, his hips impulsively thrusting forwards. 

His thighs hit the edge of the table, and the weeping head of his cock rams against your clit, making your vision streak with stars as you yelp and jolt forward. The table rattles and sways with a sense of impending collapse, but Choso is quicker. His arm scoops behind your waist, lifting you clear of the danger, and in a flash, he ducks, his hand shooting out to catch the teetering clock before it crashes to the floor.

You blink owlishly at him, then burst into laughter as the tension diffuses like morning mist. The galloping of your heart from the near collapse settles into a gentler rhythm, your life no longer flashing before your eyes, yet still stirred by being held in his arms. Choso grins awkwardly, taking a moment to gently place the clock back on the table.

“Nice,” you snicker, legs wrapping around his waist and leaning into his neck, nipping at the junction of his shoulder.

“Thank y–mmph-! ” Choso’s gasp and appreciative moan of your name curls from his chest outwards, muffled by his face burrowing into your shoulder. His cock jerks upward, a long string of pre-cum dripping from the tip and stringing down to the floor. He could just drop you right down onto his cock and make you scream his name and twitch in his arms and neither of you would ever pull apart again, he’d fuck his cum into you over and over and over and anytime it leaks out he can just replace it—

“—guh–gotta find somewhere–somewhere better for you. Better than–ah–a table— ”

You hum approvingly, nosing along the flushed pillar of his throat and trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the same path. Your lips and tongue worship his skin. Lost in the haze of need, you barely register where he’s taking you. You hardly clock that you’re being moved at all.

Choso moves quickly but slowly enough to support his precious cargo. He’s been so accident prone, and now he’s scared to trip or bump you into a wall or accidentally sneeze and bury himself inside you —

With a grunt he suddenly drops to the floor in the center of a fluffy rug in the main room, legs crossed with his ankles pinned beneath his knees, settling you in the gap created with your legs still locked behind his waist. 

The fire crackles beside you, hot and flickering and smoky. You reel back in his lap and his hands slide up your sides to support you, gripping and caressing up and down your spine. His forehead tilts to thunk against yours, the fire playing in his eyes in a way that makes you feel weak-kneed.

Choso murmurs your name, adoring and dreamy. “So pretty,” he praises, “— sososo pretty—”

He starts to rock the underside of his cock against your pussy, his brows knitting as his head drops against your shoulder, lips parted and panting over your skin. Your folds part around his shaft, his head snagging against your clit before cresting all the way through. You squeak, reflexively pressing yourself more insistently against him. 

He does it again, his entire body tense and hard with the concentration it takes to exercise patience. You deserve patience, to feel good and cum again and again, and he’s determined to be the one to make it happen. He shudders, his tongue poking out from between clenched teeth, nodding to himself in silent declaration. But that careful restraint is flimsy at best, sorely tested with each shallow drag. His cock returns shinier and wetter, the friction driving him to the brink until he’s gripped wholly by the need to have you .

Desperate for distraction, Choso’s hands roam eagerly over your breasts, squeezing with a blend of urgency and reverence. A low, needy moan escapes him, his lips hovering before his tongue flicks out to tease your nipple. He captures it in his mouth, sucking gently, each pull sending ripples of pleasure radiating through you. You arch into him, breath hitching as a soft moan escapes. The sensation of your body pressing against his elicits a deep, primal groan from him, vibrating against your skin. His free hand caresses your other breast, rolling and pinching your nipple with growing confidence, his touches more assured and deliberate.

With each slow roll of his hips you can feel every exquisitely familiar detail. Thick and firm, with a pronounced upward curve that rubs perfectly against your sensitive bud. The veins along his length pulse with engorging blood—you’re shocked he’s even lasted this long without begging to be inside you. But he wants tonight to be special. You’re on a trip, together, for the first time and he wants to be good for you. Every grind and thrust feels electric, his cock divinely crafted to drive your burgeoning craving to new heights.

Choso moans and dislodges from your nipple, his lips leaving a slick, magmatic trail as he moves upward. His hand snakes down to grip the base of his weeping length, squeezing it hard as he manually drags it between your puffy folds. The sensation makes him shudder, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he looks at you, his gaze pleading and desperate.

"–oh my– fffuck –" he babbles, his voice shaky with need. "I'm sorry, I... I need you so bad. In – inside…please. " He whispers, his hips bucking involuntarily as his cock slides against you, the tip catching on your entrance before he drags it back along your clit. You mewl and clutch at his shoulders the sound alone is almost too much for him to bear. "Please," he begs again, his eyes locked onto yours, almost teary.

The fire pops loudly beside you, a stick collapsing into ash in the brick tray, and with it, your restraint burns away. You nod, your voice a raspy plea, " Please —don't tease me." The scent of him mingled with the burning wood makes your head swim. The tables have turned, and you now find yourself on the other side from where you began. But Choso would never tease you, not like you would him—his need is too great, his desire to obey you too strong. Your voice when you beg is lovely, but god he wants to make you sing.

He presses his thumb against his cockhead, gasping as white-hot pleasure courses through him, the pad of his finger immediately slick with arousal. He pushes it down, notching against your entrance, his breath hitching. “ Gon–gonna make you feel good, ” he asserts shakily, his voice thick with need. “ Gonna try— ” At the same moment, his arm wraps behind your waist, pulling your body to him. He rocks his hips up and forward, the head of his cock slipping inside with agonizing slowness.

Your breath catches, a moan escaping your lips as he fills you, every inch stretching and teasing. Choso's muffled cry vibrates against your shoulder as he buries his face there, his teeth sinking into your skin. You clutch at him, nails digging into his back, urging him deeper. The sensation is electric, overwhelming, and you arch into him, your breath mingling with his as you stare downward at the connection of your bodies.

You watch with an almost voyeuristic fascination as every inch and vein slowly disappears inside you. The sensation is overwhelming—every ridge and curve of his cock stretching you perfectly, filling you with a heat that borders on unbearable. Choso's breath is a series of ragged, desperate gasps. His eyes narrow to hot-whiskey slits that are caught between wanting to watch and needing to look away as he fights to maintain a very fragile sense of control. His teeth sink into the plush of his lower lip, almost hard enough to break through the satin-soft skin.

When he's about halfway in, he stops, tense and quivering, his cock pulsing inside you. "Oh god...fuck, you feel so good—I’m sorry, I can't—I just...shit, you're perfect...I'm so sorry—I need...I need this." He babbles, his words an unconscious stream of desire and apology. His body shakes with the effort of holding back, every other word punctuated by a shallow, needy thrust.

Your velvety walls clench around him, drawing a whimper from his lips as he grips your hips with bruising strength. "I’m sorry—can’t wait," he gasps, his voice trembling. With a sharp, desperate thrust, he buries himself fully inside you, the sudden fullness making you gasp, nails raking down his back as you cry out in bliss.

Once fully inside, Choso’s body relaxes, his tension melting away as if he’s finally home. His breath steadies, the frantic urgency pacified and giving way to a deep, consuming need for more. No longer driven by desperation, he seeks to savor every moment, to make this last, cherishing the sensation of being completely enveloped by your wet heat.

He pulls back slightly, the slow drag of his cock against your slick walls making both of you shudder, sweat springing up along your throat. His hands, no longer gripping you with bruising force, now glide gently over your skin, caressing, exploring. His eyes meet yours, filled with a tender intensity that takes your breath away. “I love you. You know I love you?” he whispers, his voice soft, and so so grateful.

His hips move with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust deep and measured, designed to draw out every pleasurable quiver he can wring from you. You moan softly, his words coiling around your brain like ivy vines and rooting deeply into the mortar. You are fluid above him, warm and malleable and so very his. Completely enthralled with the delight of being so selflessly possessed are you, that you need to possess him right back. He loves you and that feels better than anything.

Your legs coil tighter around his waist, drawing him closer, deeper. “ Mhm— ”  You lean your temple against his shoulder, a profound sense of relaxation blanketing you soul-deep, even as your body goes absolutely haywire just beneath the prickling surface of your skin.

The fire crackles beside you, casting a warm, flickering glow over your entwined bodies. When you look up at him with those adoring doe-eyes, the muscles in your stomach flex, drawing a deep grunt from Choso as he feels the sudden tightening. The flames paint his sweat-slicked skin in hues of orange, setting him ablaze. In that moment, you understand the fatal attraction of moths to a flame, feeling an irresistible pull toward the incandescent heat and the beautiful, dangerous glow of him. 

His hands brush down your sides as gently as if you were an antique vase, the same hands that tore your pants in two capable of such softness. His palms settle on your hips, kneading for a moment before curling into a gentle hold. He gives an experimental squeeze— lifting you up as he shifts back, and lowering you down as he rolls his hips up. 

You are utterly tranquil. Perched so prettily in his lap, skewered so softly on his cock and lulled with rocking pleasure so soothing you very well could sleep like this. The fire, him, surrounds you like a cocoon, a heady tonic borderline alcoholic in your placidity . It feels like sinking into a bath of milk and honey, your brain dopey and slow. But you feel his encouragement, the way he moves you up and down his length; every now and then by a stroke of chance he nudges against your sweet-spot, or his pelvis grinds just right against your clit, jolting you back to reality with a start.

It’s not enough to be an idle passenger, your body chases that instinctual high before your brain can fan away the fog. Your hips begin to rock against his in time, adjusting your angle, and as soon as you do, Choso sighs low and shakily against your ear. He holds you steady, aiding the slow oscillation of your body, encouraging your languid participation with an appreciative squeeze of his hands and a more forceful buck of his hips.

“ M’not gonna break—you…you can do more—”

At your insistence Choso groans as if he’d been waiting for permission to do exactly that. “You– yeah…oh–okay —”

His grip tightens, and ever your servant he thrusts into you harder in an effort to appease you, his movements growing more intense, more insistent. The change in pace sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, each thrust hitting deeper, each glide against your clit setting off bursts of ecstasy that makes your vision spot and rips those gorgeous little whines he cherishes straight from your chest.

Your breath hitches, and you start to meet his thrusts with equal zeal, fucking him back with newfound determination. The rhythm between you shifts, Choso’s hands sliding back from your hips to dig into the meat of your ass. His control, whatever little he had of it to begin with, starts to unravel. His eyes flutter shut, a strained moan escaping his lips. His hands, once guiding, now grip you almost helplessly, holding on as you move with increasing fervor.

Choso's brain melts under the onslaught of sensation. His thrusts become erratic, less coordinated, until finally, he forgets to participate altogether, lost in the overwhelming pleasure you’re giving him. His hands fall to the side and brace back against the floor, and he surrenders completely, letting you use him, his body yours to command.

You take full advantage of his surrender, moving with a purpose, driven by a mounting need that seems to eclipse everything else. The slick, heated slide of his cock inside you, the way your bodies meld together with each rise and fall like grafted metal in a forge, tempered and hammered into something far more beautiful than your base materials; you succumb fully to the intoxication that starts as a slow embered burn low in your belly.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps, each inhale tinged with the smoky scent of the fire, each exhale a soft moan of pleasure. The world narrows to the point of contact between you and Choso, the delicious friction, the way his length fills you so completely. Every grind against your bud is ruinous in your body, every nudge against your depths making you see stars.

Your mind feels suspended in a dreamy fog, every thought reduced to the primal, desperate need for release. You can feel your orgasm building, a tight coil of heat and pressure in your core. A garden blooms in your womb, overcome with the primitive need for it to be filled, belly round and full with Choso’s seed. But you do not care what becomes of that garden as molten heat spreads outward, burning it to ash and making your muscles tense and quiver. 

Your hips move faster, more urgently, chasing that peak, riding the wave of pleasure that threatens to consume you. You want to be consumed. Choso's moans mix with your own, his body a pliant vessel beneath you, his pleasure a mirror of your own.

And then, all at once, the coil snaps and your ears ring with a sound you only vaguely recognize as coming from your own mouth. Your orgasm crashes over you, powerful and all-consuming. Your body convulses with the force of it, muscles clenching around Choso's cock to suck him impossibly deeper as the pleasure ripples through you in intense, shuddering waves. Your vision blurs, and for a moment, you lose all sense of time and space, reduced to a primal, instinctual being driven solely by overwhelming bliss. You are something made perfect, born anew in the flood of holy fire and ecstasy. For that brief period you are nothing but stardust.

Choso’s voice breaks through the fog, a frantic litany of curses and gratitude spilling from his lips. " Fuckfuckfuck—thank you—so beautiful...oh fuck, you’re so perfect, " he babbles, his voice shaky with awe and need. The intensity of your climax has pushed him to the brink, and he’s barely holding on. His hands roam over your body, trembling with the effort to restrain himself.

His movements become erratic, driven by an almost savage pride that you came first, but now he’s desperate to find his own release. He sinks into you to the hilt, each movement filled with an urgent, raw need. The sensation of him jabbing into you, bluntly knocking on the door of your cervix prolongs your orgasm into the realm of exquisite agony.

Without warning, Choso shifts his weight, and in one fluid motion, topples you both over so you're on your back. The transition is seamless, and before you can catch your breath, he’s over you, inside you, fucking you into the floor with a relentless, desperate rhythm. The raw intensity in his eyes, the primal need driving his movements, rips your breath away before you’ve even begun to try to catch it.

Each thrust is powerful and deep, a claim and a plea all at once. You can see the strain in his muscles, feel the desperate edge to his movements as he chases his salvation in your body. The firelight casts shadows across his face, highlighting the fierce determination etched in his features. One hand grips your hip and the other flutters down your wrist to plait his fingers through yours, shakily moving it above your head to pin it to the rug.

He is wholly possessed by an uncharacteristically primal urge to take you , to etch himself into you, to rewrite your DNA with his name and be bound to you forever by something altogether greater than himself. “ Gah—gonna–gonna marry you. Haa– nngh! Have you forever— ”

Choso’s thrusts become more erratic, his breathing more ragged. " Gonna...gonna cum, " he gasps, his voice thick with needy warning. His eyes lock onto yours, a silent plea for release. And then, with a final, deep thrust, he shudders violently, his orgasm punching against his abs as he shouts and buries his face in the crook of your neck as he cums. You feel the muscles in his back bunch and tense as he spills himself inside you, each forceful contraction painting your walls with his warmth. 

His cum coats you, thick and hot, sticking inside you as he continues to move slowly, coaxing it deeper. He fucks it into you with tender, deliberate thrusts, bidding it to seep into your womb, ensuring every drop is claimed.

Choso collapses onto you like a warm, protective blanket, his weight a soothing comfort and far from oppressive. The two of you lie there entwined and spent, bodies still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure, your skin slick with flame-licked sweat. The silence between you is broken only by your shared, labored breaths and the soft pop and crackle of the fire beside you. He doesn’t move, his body gone completely boneless, and neither do you unwilling to disturb him or yourself. The quiet wraps you both in a cocoon of tender, post-orgasmic bliss.

Eventually, you begin to rouse him with soft kisses along his jaw, your lips brushing tenderly against his skin. He laughs, a bubbly, euphoric sound that makes your heart swell. The sound is infectious, and soon you find yourself giggling too.

Choso shifts slightly, propping himself up just enough to meet your dewy gaze, his exhaustion evident in his heavy-lidded eyes warmed like melted honey. He presses his nose to yours, the touch soft and sweet, before tilting to plant the lightest of kisses on your lips, then your cheeks, then your forehead, showering you with affection and gratitude. "Can we come here every year?" he whispers hopefully.

You smile, your heart swelling with tenderness. "Every year," you promise.

[cherryxblossxms]

🔞 i guess it's because there's an event happening and that's why he's on my mind, but i've been thinking about sexual tension and some angst with Lucifer

[NSFW, minors DNI. GN reader, unrequited feelings(?), casual sex, getting caught. Maybe alluding to some angry/jealous sex, possible dubcon at the end?? This is....wayyyy longer than intended/accidental ficlet]

Like just imagining really coming to be attracted to him. Emotionally attracted because he's responsible and serious and intelligent, and then has his sweet and romantic moments that seem like they're only for you. And physically, he has every reason to be the Avatar of Pride. He's probably one of, if not the most, gorgeous men you've ever laid eyes on. Those intense ruby red eyes, broad shoulders, skilled hands that produced both gorgeous handwriting as well as wonderful piano music.

It comes to the point that you can't make eye contact with him or you know you'll get flustered. Starting to get distracted by thinking about what he'd be like as a lover, as a boyfriend. Slight touches are enough to send your daydreams on a journey. But knowing he likely doesn't like you that way, that the feelings aren't returned. And anyway, the plan is to eventually return to the human world, right? Is it worth getting into a relationship now, just to separate so soon down the road? But rather than deal with the rejection and heartache, just swallowing those feelings down and trying to move on with your life.

Of course, amidst the inner turmoil going on in your heart, you didn't expect to get involved with Lord Diavolo instead, the prince approaching you with the most unexpected offer that you decided to accept, perhaps against your better judgment.

It wasn't anything serious, definitely just a fling, simply responding to mutual attraction and a mutual desire for some stress relief. Honestly, it happened rather suddenly, a curious kiss after a meeting quickly evolving into more, but once it started, it was easy to just go with the flow, taking your moments alone to indulge and just release that tension. You reasoned it was both a good way to forget your feelings and still enjoy some kind of attention, and thankfully he was an excellent lover.

However, you had to admit to yourself that, as gorgeous and skilled as the devil prince was, you'd be lying if your mind didn't seem to wander off more often than not to a certain red-eyed devil. Even as Diavolo worked to rearrange your guts over his office desk, risking any documents he decidedly abandoned in pursuit of... greater pleasures, even as his golden eyes burned into you and he devoted himself to learning your favorite spots, your mind still went back to Lucifer.

If Diavolo knew that your heart was elsewhere, he didn't mention it. You were an adult and you weren't dating each other, he had no right to question it regardless. And as the heir to the throne, he had other things to focus on anyway. The whole point of the fling was something simple, pleasurable, and the less you two thought about feelings and regrets, the better.

Of course, assumptions can often be your undoing.

During one such beneficial "meeting" between you and the prince, your hands were grasping— broad shoulders, the desk, his hair, whatever was closest— as you tried to hold on for dear life. Something had seemed to really get under his skin lately, so he was working on releasing all his stress into you instead, his desk at risk of breaking, based on the amount of creaking that could be heard. His large cock bullying its way into your body repeatedly and pressing up against a particularly sensitive spot inside was driving you close to climax, and the overwhelming pleasure was driving any coherent thoughts from your mind.

The volume of the room was loud and only getting louder by the second, a sinful symphony of pants and grunts, rhythmic wood creaking, and the wet slap of Diavolo's balls against your ass. Thus, it was no wonder neither of you heard the approaching footsteps, or at least, couldn't be bothered to pay it any mind. Diavolo adjusted his grip on your hips at the last second, really driving his cock home inside you, and you could feel the band about to snap.

Just before you could go over that delicious precipice, the door to Diavolo's office opened, and your head whipped around to see the intruder. Of all the people it could have been, you should have known there was equal chances of being walked in by Lucifer as there was Barbatos. And yet, seeing him there still froze you to the spot as his eyes met yours.

Or rather, it would have. But Diavolo made one more thrust, the thick head of his dick pressing the sweetest little spot inside, and it was enough for the band to finally snap. In what felt like ages but was all within the span of a second, everything came crashing down. Your body tightened before releasing all at once, spasming in Diavolo's hold as you couldn't help but release a cry. The feel of your hole tightening around him dragged him into climax with you, and he seated himself deep inside before filling you with his cum.

What would have been an otherwise heavenly, earth-shattering orgasm was short-lived, as the horror of what happened quickly dissolved any remaining pleasure. You pushed against Diavolo's chest, trying to get him to move, to at least pull out of you, so you could pull yourself together and try to explain-- explain what, exactly? You weren't even sure, and it wasn't like Lucifer didn't just see you cum on his boss' dick just a minute ago, and in fact were still stuffed with it atop his desk.

You couldn't read the expression on his face, and didn't get much chance to explain anything before Lucifer apologized for interrupting and left.

It's days before you can speak to Lucifer again, practically cornering him in his office despite how hard your heart is pounding and how much you want to run away. You're expecting many different reactions: disappointment, shaming, anger, perhaps even indifference. But when Lucifer finally snaps, what initially seems like anger seems to morph into what is instead... jealousy? Questioning you on when your relationship with Diavolo started, how long you two have been fucking, if there's anyone else you're riding like a whore besides the prince.

You can't help the way your face burns when he spits out that word, "whore", but there's no time to attempt a defense before Lucifer is pushing you over his desk, a hand grasping your hip so hard you might bruise, the other yanking your hair to look back at him. The look in his eyes then blows you away, equal parts desire and anger swirling in those bloody depths. You'd ask him what he's going to do, but the solid length pressing against your backside is answer enough. Despite the shame hanging over you, you can't help the part of you that's thrilled that he wants you like that, even if it was happening for all the wrong reasons. But as the sound of a belt unbuckling caught your ears, you accepted your punishment and just hoped there'd be time later to truly confront each other.

[verbenaa]

silver and silk | kinktober 2024

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/F!Tav 𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 4.0k 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: cunnilingus, choking/erotic asphyxiation, piv sex, safe words/gestures, Dom/sub undertones, the hint of a breeding kink, formal wear, rough sex

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: “And we, my dear, have some very urgent business to attend to.” His expression is nothing short of devilish as he practically pushes her inside of the tiny closet and shuts the door behind them both, only waiting a mere moment before wrapping his arms around her waist and lowering his lips to her neck.

“Urgent, Astarion?” She rolls her eyes despite the loosening of her limbs underneath the feeling of his lips kissing down over her collarbone, mouthing at the exposed cleavage of her breasts before he lowers himself to the floor in front of her.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

In which Astarion finds it in his heart to help Rin work off some of her frustrations in a variety of ways. 

𝒶/𝓃: hellooooo! this is my first piece for this year's kinktober! I'm only writing a few of these due to limited time unfortunately, but this is the first one up. I'm not really working from any real prompt list or anything, and instead I just played around with a few ideas that I felt like fit with the reason of the season 🤭

This fic features my tav Rin, a half-elf bard, who I write about in my longfic to eden. You don't need to read that in order to enjoy this (but I obviously think you should, duh) because she's a total hottie that doesn't know how to shut up 💖 let me know what you all think in the comments either here or on ao3 and reblogs make me cry with happiness ❤️ enjoyyyy 🎃

read on ao3 | masterlist | to eden link

The scrape of embroidery from Astarion’s doublet against the bared skin of Rin’s shoulders is a small price to pay—a necessary discomfort, so to speak—for a tiny piece of stolen joy on a night like tonight.

Gods, she hated these events. 

When she had saved the world, she hadn’t realized one of the direct results of it would be having to attend things like this—boring galas with drunken patriars, dusty bureaucrats, and simpering ladies who fawned over and gawked at her in equal measure, as though she were some creature meant to be kept behind a wall of glass to be studied for her strangeness or her unerring charm or whatever the hells other attribute it was they wanted to ascribe to her.

And Rin supposes that, to them, perhaps she was strange and charming. 

After all, it was no noble knight or magnificent wizard who had led them to victory. It was simply her—a half-rate bard with a decidedly questionable skillset born from no one in particular, like so many others in the depths of the Lower City.

It had been fun at first, when she thought about the fact that it was not someone from a storied family who had saved them all, but instead someone without a last name who couldn’t even pay her rent every month and survived on cheap tavern wine and bread, not to mention her penchant for cheating at card games.

She had tired of it all after the third or fourth party, of course; niceties from people who would have rather let her die in a ditch than to have been bothered to afford her a single copper as a child falling terribly flat, and by now Rin was downright bored of it.

Even with her dearest’s presence by her side—Astarion’s arm wrapped through her own all evening as they made rounds around the ballroom and danced waltz after waltz, dressed in his finery with its elegant beading and metallic stitching shining in the candlelight—Rin was thoroughly at the end of her rope.

Astarion had dragged her inside of this tiny closet not terribly long ago, sensing the irritation building in her chest that was becoming harder and harder to hide with every sip of wine she drank, exhausted of donning the usual easy and unbothered facade she typically puts forth so gracefully during these sorts of things.

But not even the glittering candlelight, beautiful music, and expensive wine could soothe her simmering agitation, and so he took it upon himself to soothe it for her.

Rin will always remember his completely selfless kindness when she thinks back on it; it must have been terribly hard, after all, for him to have decided to steal away with her into some random closet.

Astarion grabs her hand within his and leads her away from the ballroom without a word, traipsing with her down hallways this way and that before they come across a locked door. Rin’s not entirely sure how he knew about it—or maybe it’s nothing but luck on his part—but within seconds Astarion has a lock pick in hand and the door is opened, the mechanism clearly no match against him.

“And we, my dear, have some very urgent business to attend to.” His expression is nothing short of devilish as he practically pushes her inside of the tiny closet and shuts the door behind them both, only waiting a mere moment before wrapping his arms around her waist and lowering his lips to her neck.

“Urgent, Astarion?” She rolls her eyes despite the loosening of her limbs underneath the feeling of his lips kissing down over her collarbone, mouthing at the exposed cleavage of her breasts before he lowers himself to the floor in front of her.

“Yes, terribly urgent.” He’s on his knees now, busy pressing searing kisses to the skin of her lower stomach as his hands find her hips and urge her to turn around. 

Rin needs little direction, spinning to face the shelf behind her without complaint as Astarion’s hands begin to pull the skirt of her dress up. 

“You see, it’s come to my attention that my dear, sweet wife has run out of patience tonight. I’m only doing my job as a wonderful, doting husband to help relieve some stress.”

“How charitable of you,” She says wryly. 

The sight of Astarion on his knees will always be one that begins to kindle that familiar flame of heat deep in her belly; a flame that’s only ignited hotter by the sensation of his fingertips trailing up the inside of her leg.

“Incredibly.” He doesn’t bother to remove her underwear when his hands reach the apex of her thighs, simply pushing the gusset of it to the side with his fingers to make room for his mouth, wasting no time as he buries his tongue inside her core and lets his fingers round on her clit.

Rin comes in what feels like record time on his lips, the sounds of her cries muffled against her palm as she leans against the shelf in front of her, careful not to rattle the silver as her body shakes.

Astarion’s mouth glistens with her spend when he rises from behind her, unbuttoning his pants with a fluid flick of his wrist and freeing his cock from the confines of his underwear before filling her in a single stroke, her body still working through the aftershocks of her orgasm as he hilts himself inside her.

Which is exactly how Rin found herself here, fingers still grasping onto the very same wooden shelf and hoping dearly that no one outside of the small silver closet they stole away into can hear the slight metallic clink of the metal goblets and dishes every time Astarion thrusts into her from behind. 

He has her bent, her ass jutting out towards his hips as the beautiful gown that he had lovingly designed to fit her every curve is pushed up around her waist in a mess of silk and embroidered tulle. The soft edge of the panties she wore—also designed by him and decidedly more fun to be fit for as he had double-checked his measurements—rubbing against every inch of his cock as he moves.

“Don’t you dare mess up my hair, Astarion.” Rin whips a glance behind her to where Astarion stands, one of his hands sneaking up from its place at her hips with fingers trailing towards the back of her neck as it searches to bury itself into her intricate updo, unruly dark blonde curls all twisted together and held with emerald-studded pins. “It took far too long to get it look like that and I will not be redoing it.”

“But sweetheart, I need something to hold onto,” Astarion mockingly whines into her ear as he thrusts particularly hard, hitting the end of her cunt. Rin barely withholds the moan that threatens to rip free from her lips, her fingertips gripping the shelf in front of her tighter.

She rolls her hips into his, trying to take him deeper. “You can hold onto it when you fuck me again later tonight, if you’re so desperate to touch it. In fact, Astarion, I’ll even give you full permission to ruin it.”

“‘Later tonight’?” He hits that same spot again, and this time she doesn’t hold back the soft moan that escapes her lips. “My, you’re simply insatiable, darling, if you’re already thinking about me fucking you again.”

Rin can hear the smirk in his words and doesn’t need to turn around in order to see it but she does anyway, swiveling her head to glance back at the look of pure arrogance decorating his temptingly plush lips.

“If you’re in need for something to hold onto, dear husband, you can just hold right here instead.” Rin guides the hand currently running cool fingertips teasingly up and down the nape of her neck around to the front, settling it along the line of her throat. 

Astarion’s hips slow to a stop as he closes his hand softly around the elegant column of her neck before running his thumb in a soft touch over her skin, keeping his length still buried deep inside her.

“My, what a mood you are in, love.” His voice darkens as he caresses her neck, running his fingers across a set of lovingly made scars that decorate the side of it.

“Make sure I feel it. You can do that, can’t you?” Her hand is still wrapped around the back of his, and she squeezes it slightly to make sure that Astarion fully understands her point.

Thankfully, he’s a quick study and he tightens his grip infinitesimally, dragging her deeper onto his cock with the other hand still grasping at her hip. 

“Oh, I’ll do anything for you.” Astarion leans in as he’s fully seated inside of her, letting his lips wander across her rouged cheek as his thumb presses in on her windpipe, nothing about the touch sweet or delicate. 

It’s perfect.

“Good. Now move,” Rin rasps as she bucks her hips, urging him to give her more as his lips brush along the side of her face—pressing kisses to her temple, the corner of her painted lips, the freckles that dot over her cheeks.

“Is that how you want it then, my sweet? Does my love want it hard?” He has the nerve to practically snicker in her ear as he teases her, the bastard. 

He’s lucky she loves him for it.

“I want it as hard as you can give it.” She grinds herself against his still hips, relishing the soft moan that escapes from his mouth at the movement. “Provided you can, of course.”

“Are you questioning my abilities, darling?”

“I would never dare to do such a thing.”

“A pity, because if you were I’d simply have to show you the full extent of them. I’d have you crying for your release later tonight, my sweet, while I pleasured you senseless in an attempt to show you everything I’m capable of.”

“Please,” She begs for it on a breathy gasp, the picture painted in her mind by those words one she finds incredibly tempting.

Once upon a time, she would have hated the sound of that word escaping her lips, but now she finds she doesn’t quite mind when it slips past her defenses to fall upon Astarion’s elegantly jeweled ears.

“Gods, I love it when you’re like this,” Astarion practically moans into her ear, his cock twitching inside her as he holds her still. “So terribly desperate and needy.”

Rin leans into his the touch of his lips against the soft point of her ear as much as she can with his hand still wrapped around her neck, no longer quite so bothered by the potential of a ruined updo as she sighs, “I learned from the best.”

Finally, Astarion begins to move in long, slow draws of his length against her walls, almost pulling himself out of her each time before pushing himself back in, filling her inch by inch.

“Do remember to tap my hand if it becomes too much. Are we clear, darling?”

Rin grinds against him again, eager for him to finally fucking move. “Like crystal, love.”

She can just barely make out the wolfish grin on his lips in the darkness as his hips find a slow rhythm, rocking into her gently as his hand tightens around her neck again. 

It’s not enough to really hurt—never enough to truly cause her any sort of pain or injury—but it’s just enough so that she can feel the precious air in her lungs become harder to access, making it the tiniest bit harder to breathe.

Astarion was perhaps many things, but he was nothing if not careful in moments like these ones, where they played with the heady combination of pain and pleasure, always perfectly aware of her limits as much as his own.

He drops a kiss onto the shell of her ear before nipping at it, grazing the sharp point of his fangs across the sensitive skin. She whines at the feeling and he’s quick to shush her, the hand on her hip swatting at her behind in a quick spank that has her hips jumping. 

“I’m going to have to shove my handkerchief into that pretty little mouth of yours, darling, if you can’t be quiet. Although, I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Rin winks back at him in response, biting her lip against the light pressure Astarion puts on her neck while she answers every one of his slow thrusts with a roll of her hips.

“You absolute freak.” His pace begins to speed up—no longer that slow, casual slide of his cock inside her, replacing it with increasingly punishing thrusts that has their skin meeting together audibly in the silence of the closet.

Her emerald eyes are gleaming in the darkness as Astarion tightens his grip on her neck on a particularly deep thrust that has another ragged moan breaking free from her lips. “Takes one to know one.”

Astarion drives into her hard and fast, that one hand around her neck squeezing just enough to have more heat surging through her body, driving her higher and higher with every movement of his hips.

She’s at his mercy and she loves every minute of it as he fucks her just as she had wanted, chasing every thought out of her mind that didn’t revolve around him.

“I’m going to fuck you full of my come and you’re going to love every minute of it, aren’t you?” His hips collide roughly with her own as he whispers low into her ear, the words sending a bolt of pleasure straight to her center.

Rin nods as she meets his thrusts, the hand on her neck tight as she manages the thought to speak a single word. “Yes.”

“Say that you want it, darling.” He loosens his grip just slightly so that she can speak easier, a rush of air whooshing into her lungs as she takes it in on a gasped breath. 

She’s barely thinking coherently when she sighs the words he wants to hear, every one of them uttered only fuel for the want burning inside her. “I want it. I want your come, Astarion.”

The hand on her hip curls around her front, fingertips dragging as they explore the skin of her stomach before dipping lower. 

Rin moans when the coolness of his skin meets her clit, Astarion running his fingers over it with a teasing brush before moving them lower to collect some of the wetness from where they are joined together.

“Tell me that you want me to fill your tight, perfect cunt up with it.” 

He returns his fingers up to round on the pearl at the top of her folds, her body shaking around him as the pleasure builds and builds and builds under his care. 

“Please, Astarion. Fill up my cunt with your come, fuck me full of it. Whatever you want, I’ll take it all.” 

She should be embarrassed by the words she’s babbling, but she’s far from feeling ashamed by them as they leave her lips. She’ll gladly take whatever he wants to give her—anything—as long as it’s from him.

“I know you will, my love.” He bestows another kiss against her temple, lips lingering over her skin as his cock brushes against that special place inside her with every thrust as his thumb presses harder into her neck again. “Now, be a good girl and come for me.”

She tightens around him as he circles her clit faster, his length hitting perfectly inside her every time. Astarion’s determined to send her over the edge and draw her orgasm from her with the way he’s fucking her, and she’s more than willing to oblige him.

All it takes is a few more thrusts and she’s lost to the euphoria, careening into her pleasure as she comes, her body tightening around him. It sends a wave of heat through her veins, her body shaking as she cries out at the feeling. 

She barely remembers to move her hand from atop his to cover her mouth, absently thanking all those months they spent fucking in camp years ago where she learned to quiet her cries as she presses her lips into her palm and moans her pleasure into it. 

Her hips writhe, Astarion working her through it with his fingers still turning circles on her clit as his cock hits perfectly inside her, pleasure practically whiting out her mind with the pure feeling of it all.

She’s only just coming back down from her high when she hears Astarion’s moans turning increasingly desperate, his hips rutting into hers in a frenzy. 

“Fuck, Rin,” Astarion swears as he loses his rhythm, thrusts growing faster. “I’m going to come, sweetheart.”

“Gods, please, Astarion. Come inside me,” She moans in response, squeezing herself around him one last time as he sucks in a breath. 

He hilts himself as deep as he can on one last thrust as his orgasm hits, his hand falling from her neck to instead reach out to grasp at one of the shelves in front of them as he spills himself deep inside her warmth.

Astarion buries his face into her neck, the scent of her sweet perfume surrounding him as he lets his moans muffle into her skin as his hips rut into hers.

The satisfaction she feels as he comes inside her is yet another thing she should probably feel some sort of shame about; though she can’t seem to find it in her to care as his hips still press into her own, luxuriating in the warmth that blooms inside her chest instead as she smiles, still stuck in the dreamy haze of the afterglow.

He murmurs stray words of affection against her as he comes down and his hips finally slow—whispering his love in between the kisses he presses to her neck and shoulder as his hand slips away from her center to wrap around her waist instead. 

He’s saying something to her in Elvish that she can barely make out in the midst of her own exhaustion, the feeling of his cool cheek brushing against her overheated skin a balm as he presses another kiss to her shoulder, sending a shiver through her overwrought body.

“I know you’re alive because I can hear your heartbeat, but do speak up so I can know you’re alright, darling.”

Rin manages a dazed chuckle, squeezing his hand where it drapes around her waist. “I can confirm that I am still breathing for the moment, at least. But if I were to have died, that wouldn’t have been a bad way to go.”

“Undoubtedly. But I am very much glad you shall live on for another day.” He presses one last kiss to her neck, right over a set of scars, before rising to his full height behind her.

He pulls his softening cock out of her, his come seconds from dribbling down her legs when he brings his fingers down, swiping at his spend where it threatens to spread onto her folds.

Slowly, Astarion pushes his come back inside her as she moans low, limbs tightening at the feeling of his fingers moving deep.

He brushes a kiss to her cheek as he teasingly curls them once inside her, having the audacity to chuckle at the way her body pulses around him. “Keep it, won’t you?”

“Gods, Astarion,” Rin groans as his fingers retreat and he secures the gusset of her underwear back over her with a little pat before he steps back. “Have I ever told you that you’re really something else, sometimes?”

“Plenty of times. And I never tire of hearing it, my love.” His handkerchief materializes in his hand as he cleans his fingers before tucking himself back into his pants and buttoning himself back up with more grace than she certainly possesses after their little escapade. 

Hells, they were going to have to leave this closet soon and assess the damage done to their carefully made up visages. Rin’s confident her hair survived, if a little more mussed than it was, but the same cannot likely be said for her makeup. 

With any luck none of it will have migrated, at the very least saving her the embarrassment of looking like a fancily dressed circus clown.

Rin rights herself, ignoring the heat already sneaking to her cheeks at the knowledge that when she walks out of here, there will be no mistaking the activities they had just engaged in.

Especially with Astarion’s come now seeping into her panties, the scent of him inescapable as it mingles with her own.

“What do you say to one more glass of free wine and then we sneak out of here without saying goodbye to anyone?” She fluffs the skirt of her dress as Astarion reaches out to fix the neckline, pulled a little too low on her breasts for her own comfort.

“And deprive Florrick and Ravengard of their goodbye from our beautiful and heroic bard?” Astarion says, aghast.

Rin whacks him playfully on the chest, shooting him a smile as she checks the pins in her hair. 

“Ravengard is boring and Florrick is drunk, and if I have to hear either of them wax on about the Flaming Fist one more time tonight I may suffer psychological injury.”

“Alright, darling, you win. One more glass of wine and then we hope to never see these people again.”

They most certainly will have to see these people again, but was the point of being a good liar if you couldn’t even deceive yourself for a single evening?

“Maybe they’ll forget all about us and stop inviting us to these things, if we’re lucky.” Rin runs her hands through his hair, pushing fallen strands back into place before standing up on her tip toes to press a kiss to his lips.

Astarion happily returns it, his lips pulling into a smile as he kisses her back with a contented hum.

His arm loops around her, settling his hand on her lower back as he opens the door and peeks his head outside before ushering them both out of the closet, securing the door with a quiet click before they set back down the hallway.

Rin notices light from a nearby candelabra shining off of something in Astarion’s other hand, the color that of silver illuminated to a burnished gold in the flickering flames.

“Astarion, did you steal something from that closet?” She rolls her eyes before she shoots him a look of reproach for good measure. “You’ve got to stop stealing from people’s houses. It’s bad form.”

Astarion smirks proudly as he brandishes a set of silver spoons, both intricately patterned on the handles and easily worth a small fortune in gold coin.

“But darling, I thought you never wanted to be invited back?” He spins them between his nimble fingers with ease, a blur of metal twirling in the light that her eyes can barely follow the motion of.

She should probably tell him to go put them back. It would be very bad for her to turn a blind eye and continue to allow him to so blatantly commit thievery, wouldn’t it? 

She was a hero, after all. Or at least, that’s what they liked to call her.

But when had Rin ever cared much for laws or rules? It wasn’t like they’d even notice two missing spoons in an entire closet full of silver, honestly. 

Frankly, Astarion could have stolen much more, now that she thinks about it. 

“Fine, steal the spoons, what do I care? While you’re at it, maybe go for a bottle of wine from behind the bar, too?”

“A woman after my own heart,” Astarion sighs dramatically before pocketing his new treasures, swooping down to press a kiss to Rin’s cheek one last time before they enter the ballroom. “Your wish is my command, my sweet.”

Her eyes cut to his as they step into the cavernous room, glittering with mischief of her own as she raises a brow in challenge. 

“Don’t forget to make it an expensive one.”

[randomingoftherandomness]

Oooo idea

Zhou Yichen is captured/tortured, ZYZ to the rescue, followed by whump/wound tending/healing sex/comfort

Thank you :)

They've kept him somewhere so dark, he can't even see the tip of his nose. The hours have blurred together into a cycle of pain and shadows. Yichen's captors haven't said a word to him through it all. Even when he finally started screaming.

There are probably drugs involved. Yichen is sure of it. He's so out of his own body that it feels like he is swimming in his head.

"Xiao Zhuo-daren..."

Ah. He is hallucinating that demon's voice. By way of voices, it's not the worst. If anything, it's pretty nice. Smooth, soothing, and attractive when he allows himself to be honest about it. Especially when he's teasing Yichen. It makes him so mad whenever he gets under his skin, but that always goes away so fast when Zhou Yuanzhou's voice goes a bit melodic.

The hallucination chuckles. "Do you like my voice that much, Xiao Zhuo-daren?"

Yichen licks his lips before saying yes. Because that's the truth, isn't it? Despite the blood debt, despite the hurt and hate, despite this thread of vengeance that ties them both together, Yichen likes Zhao Yuanzhou.

Likes the teasing because that means his focus is on him. Likes how the demon is gentle and kind, even when it isn't acknowledged. Likes how he is this strong pillar of support that Yichen has begun to rely on. How he is the one Yichen turns to. How even if he dies here, bleeding out and broken in the darkness, Yichen won't ever let his captors know a thing about Zhao Yuanzhou.

There's a quiet in the darkness and Yichen thinks he's alone again when he hears a soft hum cut through the air.

A weight settles around him and for the first time in many days, Yichen feels warm. His mind swims when careful hands slide under his shoulders and waist, lifting him up, holding him close.

Yichen curls into the solid heat against his cheek, feeling a sense of settledness he hasn't had for the longest time.

He thinks someone kisses the crown of his head. He isn't sure, because the next thing he hears is a soft. "Dream now, sweetling."

When he wakes, the light burns into the backs of his eyes.

"Close."

An immediate sensation of demon magic prickles in the air and Yichen hears the sounds of the shutters falling shut and the curtains around the bed falling out of their usual hold. "Is this better?"

Yichen slowly blinks his eyes open again, letting himself adjust to the dimness in the room. He looks up to see Zhao Yuanzhou sitting by him, watching him with a serene sort of tilt of his head.

"Yes. Thanks." He manages around the dryness in his throat. "Can I--"

A cup of tea materialises in the demon's hand and he holds it out to Yichen. "Thanks." He says again, decidedly not trying to think about how the demon is languidly sprawled out on the bed next to him.

"Before you ask, you were out for two days. Xiao Jiu healed most of your external wounds, but I did your inner injuries. You should be fine, though I'm sure Xiao Jiu would want to know if you feel otherwise."

Yichen hands him back the empty cup and allows the demon to help him into a seated position. "Have you been sitting here the entire time?"

"Yes." The great demon chirps, smiling so wide, Yichen can see the gleam of his teeth in the darkness. "I was watching you sleep."

It was disconcerting, to say the least, but Yichen lets it slide, focusing on orienting his inner core instead. When the demon doesn't speak, Yichen decides to be the one who says it first. "I know I said some things back there. Things I would have rather I did not say. Things I would have hoped you never know."

"If you're trying to say that you hope I forget what you said about my voice, you can forget it. I'm holding on to this one forever." Zhao Yuanzhou laughs. It is a good sound. Yichen holds on to it, anchors his attention on the melody of it when a hand slides into his own.

"And I won't hold you to the rest."

Throat clicking around a swallow, he squeezes the hand in his. "Thank you." Yichen whispers and means it. He doesn't fight it when he is pulled into an embrace, held tightly and securely. Closing his eyes, he relaxes into the soft lullaby that the demon hums for him.

[feeder86]

The Feeders’ Foreplay

“You’re late,” stated the most attractive man Levi had ever seen as he opened the door to the uptown, grotesquely lavish apartment.

It took Levi a couple of seconds to swallow the wave of arousal upon seeing his hook-up in real life. Viewing the pictures on the app was one thing, but in person, Jac had a whole new level of sex appeal; maybe more than any other man alive. 

“I’m so sorry,” Levi stuttered, already sensing that the role play had started, judging by the harsh and stern way Jac was looking at him. “There were roadworks on 45th Street; burst water pipes, or something. The bus had to go around.” He stepped inside; his hardness already very substantial just by simply standing next to Jac.

“It makes no difference to me,” Jac finally relented. “It won’t affect my schedule. Although, it does mean that you just missed one of my transformations; a rather disgusting, skinny postal worker, now a deliciously oversized, blubbery monster!” he smiled with pride.

Levi sucked in hard, trying to control his arousal. He didn’t know that the role play would start this quickly, but he was glad that it had. Jac had been such a smooth talker since they had begun messaging a couple of days ago; not dropping out of character once. He claimed to have mercilessly fattened thousands of guys to outrageous sizes and spoke with such detail about the changes that he found so incredibly satisfying to observe.

Until about six months ago, Levi had always considered himself to be a feeder. He’d dated and fed quite a few fat guys in his time, although he didn’t ever have quite the imagination for role play; nor the natural affinity for domination like Jac did. He’d gained a little weight over the holidays last year; the fresh fat sitting over his six pack and arousing him more than he ever thought it would. He’d started to chat to other feeders; allowed himself to be encouraged by them, in much the same way as he had done in the past. Now he was thirty pounds heavier than he had ever been in his life, with a little round belly on him that gave him more kinky satisfation than he could ever have imagined. He lifted off his shirt, and allowed Jac to see the small little belly that he had developed, tapping it at the side to show him that it was genuinely quite soft. “Fatten me into one of your piggy boys!” he growled with lust.

Levi had only been fed by one other feeder before. It had been a new experience, having been stuffed to the brim with food until his stomach was rather painful. He remembered feeling incredibly uncomfortable on the bus ride home, despite the fact that climaxing at that level of fullness had been the most erotic thing he had ever experienced. Now he was definitely ready to do it again, feeling a desperate desire to impress the beautiful guy he had just met for the first time. He followed Jac through the apartment, gasping as he saw the amazing view through the windows, hardly able to comprehend his luck that he was even standing in one of these multi-million dollar penthouses. Was he really being led to the bedroom already?

Jac stood at the door, barring Levi’s entrance. “Take your pants off before you come in here,” he ordered; his tone suggesting that there was no room for compromise, nor that Jac would be dropping his dominant demeanor anytime soon.

“Yes, sir!” Levi grinned, eager to submit as he kicked off his shoes and removed his pants, along with his underwear. He’d always been proud of the size of his penis. It was something all guys commented on, and he stood there, decidedly erect, waiting for Jac to comment.

Jac merely glanced down and gave the briefest of scoffs. “I’ve got other boys in here,” Jac grinned. “I’m going to fatten them, just like I am you.” With that, he gave Levi’s plush little paunch a poke, spiking his arousal even more.

Levi moaned with pleasure. “I can’t wait to be your fat little piggy!” he declared, just as Jac leaned in for a kiss; their hands sliding all over each other. Then, with a kick of Jac’s foot, the door swung open, revealing the concealed room at last.

It was the smell that hit Levi first; the stale sweat of a gym changing room. Blackout blinds covered the windows, meaning that the large, otherwise empty space was lit only from a single bulb above. In the two furthest corners of the room, two handsome and built men sat on their knees, chained to the wall. One of them even had a ball gag in his mouth, looking up only briefly, before lowering his head once more.

“Run! Get out of here!” the other guy in the corner called out as Levi walked in with Jac. “Have you eaten anything yet? He’s going to fatten you like he did the others!”

Levi’s pulse raised even further. This whole role play was even kinkier than he had expected. He had no idea that there would be others getting involved. All the while, Levi kept on grinning with enthusiasm, despite feeling that the other guy was perhaps taking it a little far with the shouting. 

In the very middle of the room, Jac kissed him fiercely in front of the other two men, as if to assert his dominance. “I’ve saved you a spot just over here…” the sexy guy whispered, pointing at a set of chains that were screwed tightly into the corner of the room. He turned to the guy in the corner, still shouting at Levi to leave, zoning in on him, his gaze silencing the noisy man immediately. “Will, Will, Will…” Jac tutted. “Anyone would think you didn’t love me, going on like this!”

The man, who Levi now knew as Will, nodded his head, as if suddenly captivated by the beauty of Jac. “I love you…” he nodded slowly. “I love you so much!” 

“I know you do,” Jac agreed, smirking as if he was holding back a laugh. He stepped forward, pulling the good looking guy into his crotch. There, Will moaned with lust, mouth agape, breathing in the scent of his master, looking decidely desperate to suck the dick that was hidden underneath Jac’s clothes. 

Following Jac, once Will had been pacified, Levi slipped down onto his knees, copying the two other men in the room; allowing the sexy dominant to quietly cuff him.

“Good boy!” Jac smiled, looking down at Levi, now in his rightful place. “Are you hungry, little piggy?” he asked, rubbing the guy’s head and messing up his hair as another display of his total control over him, pulling his head into his crotch in much the same way as he had Will moments earlier.

“I’m starving!” Levi nodded, adding as much enthusiasm as he could, considering how much the other guys were all going for it.

Just behind the door, sat a small plate with a delicious looking cream cake. Levi licked his lips theatrically as Jac brought it towards him. “I prepared it just for you!” Jac declared, sitting it down on the floor in front of the naked Levi.

“Don’t eat that…” the other guy mumbled, as if not quite able to think clearly, but still trying hard.

“Dig in, Piggy!” Jac ordered, stepping back and allowing Levi to brace himself on all fours, something Levi was just about able to do given the sufficient slack on the chains. From there, he threw his mouth down straight onto it and gorged upon it in a way that he hoped Jac would find kinky and arousing. He licked around his mouth and could just about reach his nose to slide the mess onto his nose and suck it clean. “Good boy!” Jac laughed. “You did the right thing.”

Levi smiled, feeling that he would have done anything for Jac; absolutely anything in the world. He’d never met anyone like him before, and knew that he never would again.  But suddenly, Jac was leaving the room, as if he had lost interest in an instant. The door closed and Levi was left feeling a little disorientated, chained as he was to the wall. “Where’s he gone?” he asked the only other person who was able to speak to him.

“He…” the guy tried to reply, sounding hungover, before losing track entirely and falling silent.

Levi waited patiently, still feeling an incredible sense of eroticism for the scenario that he was in. He looked over at the other guys in there with him, admiring their fit, toned bodies. For that, Levi felt a small spike of jealousy. Although he had decided to give into his gaining urges for the past few months, Levi knew he wouldn’t keep at it for long. Before the summer ended, he planned to start a big cut and get back in shape. This belly, as cute as it was, was not going to be a permanent fixture, that was for sure. He wasn’t quite ready to lose himself entirely to these kinks of his.

After fifteen minutes or so, Levi heard voices once more, coming from somewhere in the apartment. “Here comes another one,” the guy in the corner mumbled, apparently waking up a little more than before. “Every hour a new one of us arrives!”

Even the other man in the corner looked up as the door opened and Jac walked in with a new person by his side. Levi recognised him right away as Harry, a guy he’d spoken to many times online. Undressed and naked, he followed Jac into the room, much like Levi only half an hour earlier; his erection just as solid as Levi’s was now upon seeing Jac once more. Although slightly shorter in real life than Levi had pictured him, Harry was a beautifully toned and handsome guy, with a wicked way with words when he’d encouraged Levi to overeat whilst they had been online together in the past. But why would Harry be interested in coming to a feeder’s place? Was he here to feed Levi as well? Or, would Jac feed them both together? Fuck! That would be a super hot scenario to be in!

“You need to go now!” a groggy, chained-up Will called out as Harry kissed Jac with passion in the middle of the room. “Run!”

“Hey, Harry!” Levi chimed in. “What’re you doing here?” he asked, despite not really being heard over the noise of his overzealous companion in the room. He sighed; finding the guy’s performance a little overdone. “Don’t worry about him,” he called to Harry. “I think he might be an actor or something. I’m not sure about the other guy,” he nodded across the room to the man in the ball gag.

“These are my piggies,” Jac announced before Harry could reply or even acknowledge Levi at all. “Are you ready to join them?”

“Hell yeah!” Harry nodded with lust, slipping down onto his knees and allowing the chains to be placed around his wrists. Levi felt a pang of excitement too. Now that the room was filled, maybe they would finally start getting going with this super kinky role play!

“You’re just in time for the show,” Jac grinned with excitement. “But, first things first…” he smirked, disappearing for only a second and returning with another cream cake, identical to the one Levi had eaten. “Are you ready to impress me?”

“Don’t eat it!” cried the man in the corner again, making Levi roll his eyes. The guy probably thought he was adding a sense of mystery and intrigue to this role play, however, he seemed to shout with such conviction that it actually became a bit of a buzz-kill.

“Eat it up, Harry!” Levi shouted across. “I’ve had mine. It was delicious!”

Harry did exactly as he was instructed, overcome with arousal for Jac and this scenario in much the same way that Levi was. Their keeper, Jac, laughing with delight as he saw the piggish way Harry guzzled it down with such enthusiasm. 

As soon as Harry was done, Jac turned his back on him, looking instead at the man with the ball gag, in the corner next to Harry. Dripping in sweat, the man seemed reluctant to look Jac in the eyes, positively squirming as he became Jac’s focus. “I said 6.15, didn’t I, Piggy?” Jac smirked, holding up his wrist to look at his expensive watch as it ticked down the time. “And that is in fifty seconds from now!”

With that, Jac reached down, removed the ball gag and managed to unclip the cuffs on the man’s wrists with surprising speed. “Please… please don’t…” the muscular captive mumbled even after they’d kissed with surprising sweetness.

Jac seemed to revel in his whimpering. “No, Piggy. It’s too late…” he laughed.

“I don’t think I want to be a…”

“Awh! That’s just too bad, Piggy!” Jac teased him, with an obvious hard-on pressing against the crotch of his pants. “Just ten more seconds!”

Their lips met once more, but with a final surge of energy, the man seemed to tear himself away and quickly made for the door.

Jac simply stood with an even bigger grin on his face as he watched his captive flee. “Run!” cried Will. “Find the front door!”

“3…2…1…” counted an elated Jac, holding up his watch again as he kept a beady eye on the naked man staggering his way down the long corridor; the sounds of door handles being tried were all everyone, apart from Jac, could now detect from the escapee.

Suddenly, a loud moan was heard from the corridor, followed by the most tremendous burp that roared up with a fury. Jac laughed with sheer joy. His cruel eyes seemed to dance with fire and his smile was brighter than anything Levi had ever seen before. Then he left, following the fleeing man and closing the door behind them both.

Now, the shouting man in the corner lowered his head in defeat. “It’s too late,” he simply mumbled.

“Is he coming back?” new-boy, Harry, asked Levi, surprised that they had all been left alone in the room.

“Yeah, he’ll be back,” Levi nodded, keen to show his expertise. “This whole thing is kinky as fuck!” he growled, feeling even more aroused now that Harry was here as well.

“You boys have no idea…” the other man sighed, shaking his head in disapproval, but thankfully remaining silent thereafter.

The time passed with relative speed after that; now that Levi had someone to chat to in the room. It seemed that Harry was just as aroused as Levi was and they spent their time speculating over the many possible erotic scenarios that might unfold next; both of them very much convinced that the performance of the previously ball-gagged man in the corner had all been that of an actor. The other guy in the corner simply shook his head silently, only confirming in Levi and Harry’s mind that he was part of this storyline as well. 

“Fucking hell! Another one!” Levi mumbled in surprise as he heard a new voice from outside of the room. Harry raised his eyebrows as well. It was true; someone else had indeed arrived at the apartment. 

Levi looked over at their other companion, Will, trying to gauge whether he too was expecting yet another guy to be joining them that evening. However, as Levi turned his head, his nose picked up the stench of sweat. Will’s face and, indeed, his entire body was positively glistening. 

“Jeez, dude! You stink!” Levi grumbled, having decided that he didn’t care how impolite he sounded. Will had been far too into his role and had spoiled some of the eroticism when both he and Harry had arrived.

In walked Jac once more; this time with a young, handsome guy that Levi thought he recognised from somewhere, although he wasn’t all that sure. Their dominant host introduced them all as the ‘piggies’ once again; Levi and Harry nodding with lustful pleasure to go along with it all. When Jac told the new boy to get down on the floor to be cuffed in the now vacant corner, both Harry and Levi cheered him on; as they did when his cream cake was served and the horned-up guy had to eat it all whilst on all-fours in his corner. This time, the previously vocal man in the corner was completely silent; perhaps reflecting on the fact that his earlier performances had been a little over the top.

After the initiation was done, Jac turned his attention back to the only man who had been there longer than Levi. “Oh dear, little piggy!” he laughed, seeming to notice just how sweaty the guy had become. “It looks like it’s almost your turn… How exciting!”

Jac leaned down and unlocked the man’s chains. Despite the guy’s resistance and overzealous approach to the role play earlier, he seemed to have changed character completely. He was now playing someone a lot more submissive, resigned to the inevitable as Jac lavished him with attention at last. The pair kissed and touched each other as if so desperately in love. But then Jac pulled back and laughed. He tugged at the guy’s arm, pulling him to the middle of the room, directly under the single hanging bulb.

“Are you ready to show these piggies what they’re in for?” Jac asked. “None of them have seen it yet. You’re the only one!”

The man was silent and he closed his eyes tight shut as he saw Jac raise his wrist to count the seconds ticking down on his watch. Levi didn’t know why he was so aroused. It was probably the done thing that they were all to run out of the room at this point, wherein the next part of this sexually charged scenario would continue. But the man didn’t seem as though he intended to move. Instead, all his muscles were tensed, as if he was bracing himself for a massive impact. His eyes were closed tight, as if he never expected to open them again.

“5…4…”

Levi and the other boys joined in, smiling with arousal as the sexy Jac toyed with them all.

“3…2…1…”

As all four of them called out ‘Zero,’ the man in the middle of the room suddenly doubled over slightly, growling as though a great wave of pain had just attacked his stomach. He lifted his head once more, then gave the loudest, most intense burp, as if there was to be no air left in his body at all.

Jac’s eyes danced with burning light as Will’s body started moving in the most unnatural manner; his hips rocking back and forth, slowly at first, then faster and faster. The coordination and choreography involved was really quite impressive, Levi thought. But then things started to get stranger and Levi stopped smiling with glee as something else began happening. Will’s stomach seemed to be bloating. He’d thought the guy had been pushing it out to start with, but now it seemed far too extreme to be explained away just like that. Now when his hips shook, there was a definite flutter of jiggle in what appeared to be love-handles actually forming on his sides. Jac seemed to have noticed as well, for inbetween his howls of delight, he began poking and prodding Will in the areas that were causing Levi to look up with such alarm. He wanted to look across at Harry and ask if he knew what this was, but the horror of it all kept his eyes glued in place. Will was literally changing before their eyes. There was no way that this could be anything but real.

The swell of Will’s stomach, inflating more and more, began to resemble a very real paunch in almost no time at all. Even his groin was filling with mass. With his side-on view, Levi could also so the width of Will also increasing. His thighs and butt were increasing in size, however it was obvious that there was absolutely nothing but pure fat being deposited all over his body. Pretty soon, his swollen tummy had an actual shelf below his chest; something else that appeared to be softening with extreme speed. As his body rocked, his nipples began to jiggle more and more, showing that Will no longer had the extreme athleticism that he once had. With his eyes still shut tight, Will looked like he was trying desperately to igore or fight back anything that was being done to him. His face was swelling with fat, stealing his jawline entirely and seeming to build itself, wrapping around his neck like a scarf and creating the beginnings of a small bump at the very back of his head.

Jac, hysterical with joy, continued poking and prodding the fattening man. He could now fill his entire hand with the blubber around Will’s waist and so he grabbed at it keenly, shaking and wobbling the fat as if to remind Will that this was actually happening to him. But Jac also took time to glance over at the three other guys, laughing as he saw the fear and surprise in their eyes.

Things suddenly became a lot more serious. The fat that had acumulated on Will’s stomach was now expanding further, reshaping itself with folds in the skin. Jac raised the guy’s arms in the air so that he could witness this phase better; the fat encircling his waist, making it look like a ball was being pumped from within. The fat from his chest had started gathering under his arms and his nipples seemed to slide out of place as they jiggled and bounced.

When Jac dropped the guy’s arms and slapped Will’s butt, Levi couldn’t get over how much the fat rippled across the glutes and thighs. What’s more, Levi hadn’t even noticed the gradual loss of definition in the guy’s muscular arms until they were now large, doughy and shapeless with fat. His neck was disappearing entirely, with large puffed up cheeks masking the striking man he used to be. As the gut pushed outwards, the fat simulatenously swelled into his back and rear, widening him in all directions. The man’s penis, once a prominent feature, was now almost entirely masked by the blubbery thighs and a strange sack of fat, like a small belly, that had filled Will’s groin, threatening to bury his penis entirely. Then, all of a sudden, the man’s swollen belly began to sag and the genitals disappeared entirely out of Levi’s view.

Every part of Will’s body now wobbled and bounced. Levi had no idea how massive the man had become, knowing only that he was larger than any of the guys he had ever checked out on the gaining websites and socials he visited. At some point, the great fattening spectacle ended and Will fell into the unnaturally strong arms of Jac, having clearly fainted. “You’re next, piglets!” he laughed, looking around at the three chained guys in the room, whilst holding the well over five hundred pound man up like an enormous teddy bear. Then, with complete ease, he dragged Will out of the room and shut the door. 

“What the fuck!” shouted the new guy from the corner once they were alone. “Was that real?”

“I think so,” Levi nodded, somehow sounding calm.

“He told me not to eat the food,” Harry mumbled, pointing accusingly at Levi; his mind clearly recounting everything that had happened previously.

Levi felt a pang of guilt, having actively encouraged the other two to do exactly what Jac had wanted.

“He doesn’t care! He’s already fat!” the newest guy suddenly blasted, turning on Levi as well. “He probably wants this!” he growled with anger.

“I’m not fat like that!” Levi stated defensively, looking down at his small tummy. “Why are we even arguing about this?”

“We’ve got to get out of here!” Harry suddenly jumped in, tugging at the strong chains that held him to the wall.

“And what good would that do?” Levi asked. “I think we all know that whatever caused Will to fatten like that… it was the same thing that was in those cakes we ate.”

“Well, I’m not sticking around to find out,” Harry proclaimed with defiance, straining himself as he tried to pull even harder at the chains.

“Harry, come on! Be smart about this! You don’t even have any clothes.”

“So, what, we just accept that we’re toast?” the new guy added, outraged.

“We need to think about how we convince the next guy to run for it so that he doesn’t fall into this trap as well,” Levi reasoned.

“Coming from the guy who positively encouraged us to eat that cream cake?” Harry blasted angrily.

“I didn’t know that this was all real!” Levi tried to defend himself. “I was a little late. I didn’t see this happen to the other guys in here.”

“There were others?” the new guy asked with horror.

“It seems to go like clockwork. A new guy arrives every eighty minutes or so. It’s like some sort of twisted conveyorbelt,” Levi explained, suddenly remembering that he was next to reach the end of it.

The boys pondered on that idea for some time and they sat in silence, contemplating their fate. It was hard to tell how quickly or slowly time ran in that deserted room. Sometimes they would hear the distant sounds of Jac talking with someone on the phone, flirting with them in much the same way he had captured Levi, along with the other two.

“You sound so kinky…” Jac was heard to flirt. He seemed to be standing directly outside of the room, as if to deliberately tease and goad his chained-up victims. “I want to turn you into my big fat boy… Come over. Let me feed you!” He laughed and moaned down the phone, pretending to find whatever lustful retort his prospective victim came up with the most arousing thing he had heard all year. “My address? Are you really sure? I’m a very kinky guy, you know? I like to lock my boys up and feed them. Then I watch them fatten and grow for me.”

The three boys all looked at each other feeling extremely foolish. There was nothing that Jac had told them that wasn’t true. They’d all been warned; every last one of them.

Levi contemplated the transformation he had just witnessed, trying to convince himself that it had all been some sort of elaborate trick. Things like that simply could not happen in real life; not really. But he’d witnessed it himself; with his own eyes. Inexplicably, it somehow felt harder to recall the details as the minutes crept away; as if the memory of it was slowly being erased from his mind entirely. The time continued to slip by and Levi sat quietly, listening to the other two chatting with relative calmness, despite feeling no desire to join in himself. He felt like a black cloud was hovering over him, getting darker and more angry as the seconds ticked away. In fact, Levi was only pulled out of his own thoughts when he noticed a huge bead of sweat rolling down his nose and splashing onto the floor.

“Are you all right?” Harry asked, suddenly noticing the way Levi was looking at his arms and torso.

“I think this is how it starts,” Levi fretted, lifting his arm and smelling the stench of sweat. He could hardly believe the words as they tumbled out of his mouth. “I think it might be my turn!”

Right on cue, the three boys heard someone new arriving in the apartment. “GET OUT OF HERE!” they began shouting; although none of them seemed to recall exactly why. It was just something they said they would do for a purpose that wasn’t completely clear in their heads. “HE’S GOT US LOCKED UP! CALL THE POLICE!”

As they shouted and wailed, it was clear that the voices were still getting closer and closer to the room. Suddenly, the door opened and in walked a smiling athletic guy, naked and already rubbing his own hardness as he surveyed the chains and other naked guys. “This is so fucking horny!” he grinned with arousal, only seeming to stroke his dick harder as the three of them tried to warm him. He swept in to kiss Jac, looking just as besotted as they all were.

After the kiss, Jac simply stood and listened to them shouting and wailing their warnings. His smile filled his face and Levi suddenly understood that this was actually his real game; where the thrill of his set up really gave him a buzz. He gave all his victims plenty of warning, yet they would all fall into his trap, no matter what. “You see that sweaty piggy in the corner?” he pointed at Levi. “The one with the blubbery, little paunch on him? He’s the next one I’m going to do it to.”

“What’re you going to feed him?” the latest guy asked, still stroking himself with absolute arousal.

Jac took the guy’s hand, stopping him from pleasuring himself and taking his first steps to control at long last. “First things first…” he smiled, pointing into the now vacant corner of the room.

Levi had given up shouting now, but the other two were still trying, watching as the handsome boy slipped onto his knees and allowed the chains to be fixed around his wrists. Then, with eyes filled with love and lust for his captor, the boy slipped onto all fours and inhaled the cream cake that was brought to him. 

The two other guys fell suddenly silent, realising, just like Levi, that all their warnings were futile. Jac would always win.

“Come on, little piggy!” Jac smiled at Levi, bending down to unlock his chains.

Despite himself, Levi felt the semi he’d had since Jac came in suddenly stiffen into concrete. There was just something so all-consuming about the man’s presence. Even with everything Levi thought he knew, he still felt… in love.

“Now, you’re going to be a good piggy, aren’t you?” Jac asked him. “We’ve got to show the new boy what’s in store for him,” he stated seriously, positioning the sweaty Levi under the single light bulb, facing the newest captive, as if he was about to put on a show. “Hmm, what do you have to say for yourself?” he teased.

Levi swallowed, deciding that fighting this was not something he could physically do. “I’m a good piggy,” he nodded, looking earnestly up at the man he was most attracted to in the whole world.

Jac’s face spread with surprise and delight at Levi’s submission. “Oh, you are?” he laughed. “You hear that?” he called to the other three. “This one says he’s a good piggy!” He turned to speak softly into Levi’s ear. “Are you going to fatten up beautifully for me? Turn this little belly of yours into something spectacular?”

“Yes,” Levi nodded.

Jac smirked and raised his arm to look at his watch. “Do the countdown with me then, Piggy!” he whispered. “10… 9…8…”

Levi tried to join him, but he was at least half a second behind Jac each time; too overcome with the experience.

“6….5…4…”

Levi looked at the newest guy in front of him; his wide smile and naive understanding of where he actually was.

“3…2…”

Levi couldn’t finish. A deep, primal urge to roll forwards and hold his stomach suddenly overcame him. He moaned from the dull pain that seemed to be emanating from his stomach, then he suddenly stood upright, opening his throat and letting out the most insane burp of his entire life. He started to notice that his hips were shaking backwards and forwards, with Jac crying out in delight; his words incomprehensible to Levi at that moment with all the strange physical sensations that were ripping through his body. He placed his hands on his stomach, feeling it rising like dough beneath his chest. Then Jac smacked his hands away so that he didn’t block anyone else’s view of the transformation that was already beginning to occur.

“Look at him!” Jac was shouting, as Levi felt his butt being slapped and his love handle pinched. “Look at this beautiful fat! It’s fantastic!”

As Levi’s body rocked uncontrollably, he began to feel more and more areas jiggling. He knew his ass had started to swell, for it shook wildy. But then that jiggle started to spill out, into his thighs and even into his back. Since his little gain after the holidays, he’d already experienced a little movement in his chest, but now he felt his nipples shaking like never before, with the feeling of an odd mass beginning to surround his erect penis.

Levi knew that he had altered by quite a considerable amount, for the new victim in the corner now curled up against the wall, starting with shock and horror. Levi tried to look down, feeling a ring of fat squeezing into his neck. He saw his hands, unrecognisable with chubby fingers and mere dimples where his knuckles once were. Then, all of sudden, there it was: a giant mass of stomach that had created its own shelf beneath his doughy chest. Jac had slipped his finger inside the belly button and was using it to shake the incredible, soft lard that had formed such a giant tank on his body.

Standing up and keeping balance was getting harder. Levi readjusted his feet, but he always felt the strong arm of Jac pressing against his back, as if he knew exactly when he was needed to step in. Levi let his head rock back and rest against Jac’s broad chest, surrendering himself entirely to the fattening that was occurring. 

“Ata, boy!” Jac cooed, enjoying Levi’s total surrender, allowing the magic of the transformation to tear through him without the slightest resistance. 

Levi began to breathe deeply, feeling an incredibly warm and tingling arousal in his penis. He closed his eyes and moaned softly. He could feel his whole body swinging backwards and forwards like a large, increasingl heavy and speherical pendulum. But the feeling of arousal was so pleasant and comforting, there in Jac’s strong grip. He had no concept of how fat he had grown, but in that moment, he had no regrets in the slightest. It was as if Jac had been the person he had been waiting to meet his entire life.

“I think you’re going to be my fattest pig of the day,” Jac whispered, sending Levi into an inexplicably instant and intense orgasm that made him howl and his knees buckle, forcing Jac to hold him up entirely.

Levi felt his eyes grow heavy. The transformation over.

“You’re next!” he heard Jac laugh towards Harry. Then he felt his entire, monstrously obese body being dragged out of the room, with no idea what would come next.

[bg3-npc]

Asexual Awareness Week and BG3

Below the cut is 1,100+ words of interpreting Wyll Ravengard as demisexual. As an asexual person, I relate to many of Wyll's desires and experiences. That relation has lead me to this interpretation of him as a character. Interpretation is the key word here. This is simply another way view this character and gain insight. It's obviously extremely biased, which is why I put the word count first. So if your interested in analysis that is probably more projection than interpretation, I bring you this.

Wyll is portrayed as an almost incurable romantic. He constantly references stories, tales, fables, and myths when discussing his romantic desires. Romance heavily influences his sexual desires as well. It is practically inherent to his sexual attraction. While this can be viewed as idealism, I want to propose an alternative outlook. One where he hasn’t conflated romance and sexuality, but rather one where romance is vital to his sexuality.

Wyll talks little of his sexual habits outside of when romance is being discussed. These quotes are about dancing, but they happen while you’re romancing him.

“Don't worry! It's not really about the dance, it's about who's we're dancing with.”

“I had years of lessons but in truth it's all about your partner.”

Like when you’re romancing most companions, many things said have multiple meanings or implications. He’s telling you that while he does enjoy sex, it’s who you’re doing it with that makes it truly pleasurable. I think Wyll desires the intimacy that comes from sex more than the act itself. He’s drawn to the connection it brings rather than the pleasure.

At one point he describes his sexual history as “tight-laced” when he’s talking with Shadowheart.  He says, “I was never one to sew my wild oats.” Apparently Wyll hasn’t had to practice and exercise much sexual restraint in his life. It’s easy to control one’s sexual desires when you don’t really feel them to begin with.

While he can understand people’s various sexual habits, I don’t think he can relate. He doesn’t see the appeal to casual sex. Sex doesn’t feel satisfying to him without connection. He has impulses, and sometimes he wants to act on them, but they don’t seem worth it. He doesn’t derive enough pleasure from the act alone to pursue it. Romantic relationships already provide sex, and he values love above all else. Why would he want anything else?

“Eh-heh, well, give it some time! Develop a bond, and…maybe I'll show you a move or two.”

“Hm, think of love as a strong ale, or a warm fire. Is the clang of steel on steel not made more satisfying by the pleasures that come after?”

Doesn’t sex feel decidedly better when you’re having it with someone you care for? How satisfactory can it be without attachment? How truly enjoyable is it without a bond?

“I value affection, over fun. A lasting memory over a passing fancy.” 

“But I’ve always been a bit old-fashioned on these matters. I find more pleasure in a courtly dance, than a loveless fling.”

Isn’t it more fulfilling to love someone than lust for them? Do you not feel more fulfilled from loving someone than sleeping with them? Is sex even worth having without love?

“Gods I want you, but I can't take your body without taking your heart.”

Can Wyll even give you his body without giving you his heart? They seem to go hand in hand for him. Love is essential to his sexual enjoyment, he doesn’t seem to experience sexual desire without it. Love might be the only way he can desire it. Here is an interaction between him and Astarion.

Astarion: "You didn’t kiss anyone until you were fifteen?! Gods. What a tragic, sheltered life."

Wyll: "Sheltered? Not at all! I was exposed to all manner of riot and revelry. Hells, my father even urged me on once or twice."

His romantic tendencies don’t come from inexperience or prudishness. Wyll isn’t oblivious or naive when it comes to sex. He’s been exposed and even encouraged to have it. While he might call it “proper”, Wyll is aware his way of courting isn’t for everyone. Your sexual habits might not align with his personal wants, but he won’t respect you any less for yours. Wyll does not believe your sex life effects your worth. If anything, he feels his wants are regressive.

“But I still keep faith in the old tales of love. The ‘once upon a times’ and the ‘happily ever-afters’.”

“I'd, like to do this the proper way. The way of the old romances sung by the bards.”

“But I’ve always been a bit old-fashioned on these matters.”

He constantly uses the word “old” to describe his courting methods. He’s acknowledges these desires aren’t modern, and by referencing fairytales he’s aware they might even be fictious. He calls his sexual habits “tight-laced”, his romantic intentions as “old-fashioned”. They’re not exactly said negatively, but more with the acknowledgment that his wants come across as restrictive. When the habits of today hold no appeal to you, you feel stuck in the past. What are you supposed to do when fiction seems to be the only place where romance is done how you’d like?

If you have sex with Mizora, these are some of his responses.

“You shared your body with the fiend who holds my soul.”

“We danced! We made a connection…and you severed it for a single bite of the Hells?”

This next quote is how he responds if you say, ‘Can you blame me? It’s not like you’ve been putting out.’

“Is that what matters to you? Sex without union? Heat without heart? Did you not take joy in the dance?”

Now obviously the biggest issue is you slept with the being that holds his soul. However, he says these things because he thought you felt the same way about sex as he does. He thought sex was an act as precious to you as it was to him. He thought you also prioritized love over physicality. He thought you enjoyed the way things were going, clearly he was. Had he known you didn’t feel the same, he probably never would’ve pursued you.

Wyll doesn’t do casual, he doesn’t do “let’s see where this goes”. He seems like the type to pursue every romance with the intention of marriage. No, he won’t propose on the first date. He won’t even necessarily think either of you are compatible. However, that’s the whole point of courting! It’s to test the potential of forever. He likes agreements, he likes pacts. He wants certainty, reliability.

Yes, he probably hasn't had much firsthand experience with relationships. Yes, all these things can be seen as restraint. Yes, they can be seen as repression. They can also be seen as someone who knows himself and genuinely wants “happily ever after”. Someone who’s aware of what he’s asking and wants you to desire it as well. Maybe love is the only way he can connect to his sexual desires. Maybe love is important to him because it’s the only way he can truly enjoy sex. Love might be the only thing that lets him experience sex like everyone else. Maybe love is the only thing that let's him feel sex like it’s described in fantasy. Maybe he’s lost in that fantasy, or maybe he’s just demisexual.

[2w1ld3st-2dr3ams]

𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕝𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖, 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕖?

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Aether, Lumine, Dom!GN!Reader (separate)

Cw: Sub!Character, Dom!reader, praise kink, begging, reader is a bit of a flirt (an honest flirt), fingering (character recieving), thigh riding (character riding), heavy make-out sessions (Lumine), no penetrative sex, no mentions of reader's genitals, an excuse to praise both travelers cuz they deserve it, my bias for soft sex, lowkey Lumine favouritsm (I love em both dw).

Post Type: Headcannons + Scenario

Word Count: 547 (Aether), 507 (Lumine)

Mumbles: Lowkey flirting with the ai Aether bot and he straight up told me he likes when I praise him, so I got inspired to write this. Added Lumine cuz girls need praise too! This was a field day for me whew. TLDR: the twins discover they have a praise kink and you help out.

Aether

It was a normal day out in Teyvat for Aether, solving puzzle after puzzle and collecting a lot of treasure

You, having nothing better to do, decided to join him for the day

He was excited to have you join in on his adventures, you usually spend most of your time away

So, as you can imagine, he made sure to show off extra hard today, just for you

And it worked!

You were surely impressed, looking at him in a quiet amazement as you smiled at his accomplishments

"Wow, starlight, you're quite proficient doing this type of things. You look so pretty doing it to, you've done such a good job getting treasure." You praise him in amazement

His planned worked!…perhaps a bit too well…

Aether smiled, albeit a bit strained, and you swore you heard a whine leave his lips

He looked away, planning on working on the next puzzle, so you decided to let the subject go

You decided to tone it down with the praise for a while, not wanting to make him uncomfortable

However, he seemed rather…sad, to not hear your praise at his actions

Well this isn't what he wanted, not at all!

He was decidedly more whiny around you, as if indirectly wanting to annoy the praise out of your system

Not gonna lie, it was a bit frustrating for you, but after feeling his lips against yours in a frenzy, you understood his message well enough.

Aether's moans were heavenly, and you made sure to let him know. You gently pulled him down to your thigh, helping him find a good rhythym. His hands were on your shoulders, using them as leverage to steady himself. His thighs were shaking as he moved against you, trying to chase his release.

"Look at you angel, so good for me. You ride my thigh so well~"

His moans got louder, his pace faltering. He could feel his face grow redder as you trailed kisses down his neck and chest, your hands helping him find his rhythym again while you worshiped his body. His pants and slight whimpers were bouncing off of the walls of your bedroom. He muttered out a soft "please…" as his pace quickened.

"Please what, sunshine? C'mon, let me hear your sweet voice."

His hips stuttered and he hung his head down. He felt his orgasm approaching, the feeling of your lips against his skin and your words of praise was too much for him.

"Please please please! Keep praising me, I-I-I'm c-close!~"

"You're doing so good, Aether. I'm so proud of you, such an obedient plaything~"

His eyes rolled back, his hips grinding harder against your thigh as he chased his release. Finally, after humping your thigh for a few moments, he came harder than he ever had his entire life. You didn't know whether to feel offended or pridefull, but the way Aether looked right now cleared your thoughts. He was breathless, face flushed and mouth slightly open. He was also drooling a bit, a fact that you used to tease him.

"Aw, did it feel that good? Well, I'm certainly not complaining, you look so heavenly right now."

Oops, looks like he's hard again! Just what are you going to do with such a needy boyfriend?

Lumine

It started out as any regular de-stress afternoon, making out!

You two were laying on a comfortable mattress while your lips moveed against each other.

It was lazy, peacefull, and exactly what Lumine needed after a long, tasking day

You two separated to take air, your eyes scanning all over her body before you dove back

"Heavens above, you're a gift sent from Celestia itself…"

The noise she made against the kiss was downright sinfull, and totally not what you expected from a lazy make out session

Before you could respond, she tugged you closer to her as she kissed you with more fervor

As she did, she guided one of your hands down to her underwear, letting it hover just above her clothed pussy

Intruiged, you pulled away from her passionate kiss

"Lumine, what was that about?"

"Please…"

Well this is interesting, you've never heard her beg before

After your confused expression relayed the message to her, she took a shaky breath in and out as she explained

"Your praise, it felt…good."

Ah, so that was it! Well, this certainly made your afternoon take a turn!

"Look at you, starlight, so pretty like this…"

You whisper sweet nothings in her ear as you trail kisses down her jaw, your hands sliding up and down the inside of her thigh. You could feel how her breath hitched at your words, her arm searching for a place behind your neck. Slowly, you opened her legs with your hands as you kissed further down her body.

Despite her embarrassment, she allows you to open her legs even further apart. She was breathing heavily now, in anticipation and desire. She could feel your fingers ghost over her thighs as they made their way to her underwear, slowly pulling it down to her knees. With her permition, you slowly inserted one finger into her. After. awhile, you got the green light to add another, slowly moving your fingers in and out, before curling them.

"Look how well you take me, moonlight, it's like you were made for me~"

"O-oh! I was, I was! All for you~"

You could feel her clench around your fingers, keeping them inside her while you moved your other hand to play with her clit. She spasms, the pleasure ripping heavenly moans out of her as you continue your motion inside her.

"So beautiful, I love when you sing for me."

She got louder at that, hitting your things as she humped your fingers. She came with a loud cry of your name, falling backwards onto your chest as she caught her breath. You smiled down at her and kissed her cheek, removing your hands from in between her legs. You were just about ready to call it quits when you felt Lumine shift and palm at your pants, looking up at you with a slightly flushed face and a loopy smile.

"Can I…return the favor?"

Well, when she looked at you like that and asked so nicely, how could you say no to your sweet flower?

[rebelmeg]

Rebelmeg's BBB2023 Masterpost

I GOT A BLACKOUT! @buckybarnesbingo

B1 - Gunslinger | Teen | Bucky/Unspecified Partner | fanfic

Bucky is a gunslinger and has the hots for an unspecified opponent. That's it, that's the fic.

B2 - Cupcakes and Kisses - Chapter 12: Bucky's Birthday Present | Teen | Bucky/Darcy, Jane & Darcy, Bucky & Clint, Jane/Thor | Fanfic

Darcy tries to think of what to get Bucky for his birthday, Jane is unhelpful, Thor is very helpful, and Clint is her partner in actual crime.

B3 - Cupcakes and Kisses - Chapter 4: The Cupcake Hour | Teen | Darcy & Jane, Bucky/Darcy | fanfic

Jane hears all about Darcy's new crush, and then the science bestie meets baker, who has a question for Darcy.

B4 - Cupcakes and Kisses - Chapter 1: Plum Tasty | Teen | Bucky & Darcy | fanfic

Darcy follows the siren call of baked goods, and meets the love of her life. And also the stud working the register.

B5 - Bucky's Support Group | Gen | Bucky & Avengers | fanfic

While Bucky recovers from everything he's been through, the Avengers all pitch in to help him where they can. Russian lullabies, unexpected hugs, and other things aren't what he thought he'd need, but it turns out that his bizarre support group seems to know exactly how to do exactly that: support.

U1 - A Twitch Down Memory Lane | Teen | Bucky & Steve | fanfic

Two supersoldiers are having a relaxing afternoon on the couch at the Compound. And then something unlocks a small flood of memories. OR Before the serum, Steve had epilepsy. Bet that freaked the hell out of Bucky every time it happened.

U2 - Cupcakes and Kisses - Chapter 11: Drunk Dialing and Doughnuts | Teen | Bucky/Darcy, Jane & Darcy, Bucky & Clint, Jane/Thor | fanfic

Darcy and Jane get tipsy, Bucky makes doughnuts, and Clint knows a little too much about Jane's sex life.

U3 - Cupcakes and Kisses - Chapter 2: Sticky Sweet | Teen | Bucky & Darcy | Fanfic

Fate (otherwise known as a long workday and a missed bus) brings Darcy back to the bakery of her dreams. And the baker ain't so bad either.

U4 - Moodboard for Cupcakes and Kisses - Chapter 5: Kiss the Cook | Teen | Bucky/Darcy | moodboard

Moodboard for Bucky and Darcy's first date, roller blade and then a stop at the bakery afterward.

U5 - The End of the Scope | Gen | Bucky & Alpine | fanfic

The Asset has been out of cryo for awhile, and his conditioning is starting to break down. So when a tiny, scrappy kitten tries to play with the laser sight on his rifle, he can't help but play along. Just a little bit.

C1 - Heart Eyes Over Coffee | Gen | Bucky/Sarah Wilson | fanfic

Papa Bear Bucky (wow, does he hate that nickname) falls in love at first sight, while his work kids ogle and make helpful commentary. "Helpful" being extremely subjective…

C2 - Off the Beat | Gen | Bucky/Darcy | fanfic

Bucky spies a cutie at the club who is NOT dancing to the beat. Who brings headphones and their own music to a club?

C3 - Bucky Digital Collage | Gen | No Pairing | digital art

A li'l something I made with Bucky-themed themes in mind.

C4 - I'd Rather Be a Summer Soldier | Gen | Bucky & Steve | fanfic

Steve might like hanging out in the snow like a polar bear, but Bucky decidedly does not.

C5 - Cupcakes and Kisses - Chapter 6: Archery and Mirror Glaze | Teen | Darcy & Jane, Bucky & Clint, Bucky & Darcy | fanfic

Darcy meets Bucky's best friend, then gets to watch him do more sugar magic.

K1 - Cuddle Buck | Gen | BuckyNat | fanfic

Natasha finds out what Yasha needs, and with the help of her fellow Avengers, they give it to him.

K2 - Cupcakes and Kisses - Chapter 5: Kiss the Cook | Teen | Bucky/Darcy | fanfic

The first date is a great success, and Bucky has an extra surprise for Darcy back at the bakery.

K3 - Bot Shaming - Part 10 | Gen | Bucky & Dum-E & Tony | social media post/photo edit

Prankster bot Dum-E and Enabler Bucky make a mess of the workshop.

K4 - Scenes from an Italian Restaurant [chat version] | Mature | Bucky & Clint & Nat & Steve & Scott | brainstorming story spawning

Mafia boss Bucky Barnes recently bought closed Italian restaurant to use as his headquarters. A very tired Steve Rogers shows up for food, kicking off an unbelievable chain of events [chat version].

K5 - Cupcakes and Kisses - Chapter 8: Frosting Roses | Teen | Darcy & Jane, Jane/Thor, Bucky & Darcy | fanfic

Jane has a breakthrough and Bucky brandishes a piping bag.

Y1 - Cupcakes and Kisses - Chapter 7: Thievery and Cookery | Teen | Darcy & Jane, Jane/Thor, Bucky & Darcy | fanfic

Thor has committed a grave sin, and Bucky is in charge of fixing Darcy's cranky mood.

Y2 - Moodboard for A Cure For What Ails You | Gen | Bucky/sort of OFC | moodboard

Bucky has been busted out of HYDRA imprisonment by his suddenly huge but still reckless best friend. He's shaken up, he's got bits of memories that horrify him, and he just needs a minute alone to think. Instead... he finds an unexpected distraction while the soldiers are still giving three cheers for Captain America. In the middle of a war and in the worst possible place to start a romance, he finds a little bit of solace in a nurse with pretty brown eyes, a sweet smile, and a blush he could fall in love with.

Y3 - Moodboard for Cupcakes and Kisses - Chapter 13: Two Years Later | Teen | Bucky/Darcy | Moodboard

The bite-sized, sugar-coated epilogue that leads to a happily ever after, featuring a Bucky/Darcy wedding moodboard.

Y4 - Cupcakes and Kisses - Chapter 3: Glitter Sprinkles | Teen | Bucky/Darcy | fanfic

Darcy starts spending time in Bucky's kitchen, and discovers his sprinkle cabinet.

Y5 - Cupcakes and Kisses - Chapter 9: A Compote Murder | Teen | Bucky/Darcy, Bucky & Clint | Fanfic

Clint wreaks havoc in Bucky's kitchen, and Darcy helps to conquer a very large block of chocolate.

Adopted - Smell: Cupcakes and Kisses - Chapter 10: Give Me the Brownies and Nobody Gets Hurt | Teen | Bucky/Darcy | Fanfic

Darcy goes feral for brownies, and Bucky tries to contain the feral beast.

[redwayfarers]

Safe

Fandom: Blood Moon Ship: Angelina x Farro Characters: Angelina Jakovljević (OC), Farroq Khan Words: 1191 Rating: Gen Summary: Farro and Angelina try to discuss an important part of her past.

Read on AO3.

Nero’s note: Now, I’m not normally hugely into vampire/werewolf media. I like it just fine, but I usually prefer other fantasy stuff. However, at a firm recommendation from a friend, I gave Blood Moon a chance and my god, it’s so fucking good, go play it, here we are - two and a half runs in and I’m already writing fic.

What also got me hella interested was the fact that the main pack is Serbian and as you may or may not know, I am Serb myself. So I jumped at a chance to write about my culture in a fantasy setting, and thusly, Ange was born. What more could I ask for but a good muse to write about.

Mind the vague spoilers for the entire game, as minor as they may be.

Full moon’s a very nice time, Ange decides. Her head’s as quiet as a wolf’s head is going to be, and she can reasonably be expected to just rest. Of course, there’s never rest for an Alpha, and she knows this, but by god if she’s not gonna take any chances she can just get as much use of her old, cranky bed with Farro as she can get away with. 

So that’s what she did, and Farro wholeheartedly agreed, so they dropped Hani to Marco with wide smiles and locked themselves in her room. It’s been hours since, and she’s cuddling Farro’s pillow in a piss poor attempt to salvage his full body warmth until he returns from putting his daughter to bed. 

So far she’s counted 10 minutes. When she scents him approaching, she sends out a small, pleased howl that she hopes nobody else heard. While not the most embarrassing thing in the world, given the fact that Farro is her mate, she’d rather not be the subject of teasing for committing the horrible crime of falling in love.

“That’s the fastest she’s ever fallen asleep,” Ange comments when the doors slide shut once more. 

“A miracle,” he agrees, his voice light, but genuine. “I didn’t want to keep you waiting for too long, either. Otherwise, you’d end up– well, like this.” 

“It’s not my fault you’re a living furnace,” she groans and sits up. He’s pulled his hair back and is wearing an old shirt that does little to make her want to not take it off him again. Farro laughs and walks over. Ange likes hearing him laugh.

“Has your warmth been restored, ma’am?” he teases once the mattress creaks under his weight again. Ange curls herself against his side and feels his hand slide down the length of her back. 

“Yes and thank you,” she says in a high voice that for some reason earns her a head kiss. 

“Much obliged,” he responds with a smile. They fall into companionable silence and his hand runs rhythmically over her spine. Up and down, up and down. She’s not immune to a backrub, as much as she likes to stifle the animal in her. Between that and his warmth, the idea of going at it again feels decidedly wrong.

“Hey, Ange,” Farro breaks the silence, “can I ask you a question?”

“Go for it, big guy.” 

“You have a saint’s portrait in your room? I saw it a while ago and didn’t want to ask. But I was curious.” He meets her eyes. “Are you religious?” 

Ange snorts and shakes her head. “That felt oddly serious, Farro,” she replies. “Like it’s wrong to be religious. I’m not, personally, but there might be religious werewolves out there.” 

“It’s perfectly okay to be religious,” Farro frowns and it’s so severely endearing she has to move from her comfy spot and kiss his nose, which makes his brow furrow even more, “I just saw a medal and was curious! And it felt like an odd thing to ask at the time. I saw a portrait in your room when we had sex for the first time the night before a big battle with a vampire.”

“When you put it like that, it is a little weird,” she concedes. She glances at it, standing right at the center of her drawer. Before Lawrence, she kept it in the darkness, but during the renovations of the warehouse, something clicked in her head. She thought it had seen the light of day for the first time since Alek took her in. 

That felt like a lifetime ago. Fuck, it was a lifetime ago. Now she’s Alpha in Alek’s place, and she’s the last one she can afford to lose. 

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s painful,” he says gently. “I’m sorry that I asked.” 

“No, no, it’s good that you did,” Ange sits up and places her feet on the floor. Her footsteps echo in the night. The floor is a little cold, with only a thin layer of socks separating from her soles. With gentle fingers, she lifts it and looks at the painted female face. Venerable Mother Angelina, it says in Cyrillic script.

“The saint I was named after,” she explains. “From my birth pack. This belonged to the Alpha.” She remembers his bright, blue eyes and patchy, dark beard. He hated being called Alpha and insisted on them calling him by his name, Pavle. But he was their leader and he led well. Ange herself never really found it in her to forget that. To her, he was Alpha. “When they were killed, I took this and ran. In hindsight, it probably kept me sane some nights when the moon was loudest. I thought that if I was ever with the moon, I’d tear this to shreds and I would never forgive myself for it.” 

“Ange,” Farro says. He’s behind her, like a big, protective shadow, like Alpha Pavle was. It should be the other way around, Ange - Angelina - thinks. She blinks. Farro’s hand is soft on her shoulder. 

“I still carry his surname, you know,” she continues. She thinks she smells his rakija, and his dark coffee, and her mother’s too sweet perfume. Not even a wolf’s nose is powerful enough to scent the past, but she pretends to do it anyway. “Jakovljević. Might be a bitch to write, but I think I should have it. Alek might’ve taken me in, and I’ll love him for that forever, but my birth pack was good, and cohesive, and would’ve kept us safe if hunters hadn’t come to shoot them all with fucking silver!”

“Ange,” Farro repeats and she clings to it like a lifeline. She thought she was over it. She thought she had it under her paw, but no, it surfaces like a vampire’s rancid stench. “Ange, look at me.” 

So she does, small and in his shadow despite the fact she’s the Alpha, and the world settles. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly. Her heart beats in anger, in pain, in the harm to all the hunters she wished she could rip open in the first few months of being a stray. She holds the portrait tight. “I ruined the night.”

peacepeacepeace, Farro howls. Without looking, she sets it down and buries her head in his shirt. 

“I wouldn’t have asked if I knew it was so painful,” he says apologetically. His hands wrap around her. He keeps howling quietly. “And you didn’t ruin the night. I am thankful that you trust me enough to share this with me. And, uh..” There’s a visible, clear as day, as real as their touch pause. “If you ever feel the need to talk about it, or anything, I’m here. No wolf should have to go through that.” 

“Thank you,” Ange replies. Her voice is muffled by the old, stretched fabric. When they return to bed, her eyelids grow heavy to the feeling of his fingers running over hers. 

safesafesafe, she howls softly one last time before sleep takes her. Even Alphas need to feel safe every once in a while. 

[frozenbound]

Shimadacest headcanon #41:

(Continuation of Shimadacest Headcanon #29, #30, #31, #32, #33, #34, #35, #36, #37, #38, #39, and #40)

Genji tries to latch onto him the moment Hanzo closes the door to his bedroom, but Hanzo instantly has his big, broad hand on his chest.

"Brush my hair," he commands, and Genji is so thrown by the non-sequitur that Hanzo is actually able to leave him there by the door as he goes to his bedside cabinet and fetches his hairbrush. He sits at the foot of his bed and looks back at Genji and holds it out.

"You're serious?" Genji asks, a flurry of complicated emotions working across his face.

"Come here, sit down, and brush my hair," Hanzo commands again, and his tone brooks no argument.

Genji drifts over, slowly takes the brush from Hanzo, and, when Hanzo decidedly turns away and displays his damp, snow white hair pouring down his back, he sits and begins drawing the brush down in slow, firm strokes.

It's partially because Hanzo knows from experience that damp hair tangles easily during sex and brushing it will help it dry faster.

It's partially because Genji has always loved brushing Hanzo's hair, and Hanzo now suspects it's because he can be so close to Hanzo, smell Hanzo, touch Hanzo.

It's also one last chance.

If this happens, a lot will change.

Under Genji's regular, gentle touch, Hanzo turns a lot over in his mind, and the minutes tick by in silence until his hair is glossy, dry, and fluffy.

"Brother..." Genji begins.

"Turn around," Hanzo says, overriding him.

He waits until he feels Genji turn before he turns, and his eyes trail over the white cotton robe still stretched over his little brother's broad, strong shoulders.

He reaches past Genji's side and takes the hairbrush, and Genji breathes out a little puff of surprise when Hanzo brushes out his green hair. It's flat and slightly matted since no one has paid any attention to it whatsoever since Hanzo rinsed Genji off in the baths, but it's short and soft without any of the product that usually makes it stand on end, and Hanzo can't help but twirl his finger and wrap a lock around it, like Genji so often does, though he can barely get one or two curls while Genji can get literally dozens.

Then Hanzo speaks in a low, calm voice.

"Genji. Are you sure about this?"

"Yes."

Amazingly, Genji doesn't burst into rapid-fire blabber or desperately beg or anything.

The single word apparently suffices.

Hanzo licks his lips, thrown, but he quickly gathers himself.

"You could have anyone you want, Genji. Anyone. Are you sure you want an austere, old, solemn stick-in-the-mud like me?"

In the end, his thoughts centered on one thing: Genji is young and brash and vibrant. He has so much to look forward to and has been chomping at the bit to go out and explore the wide world and experience it all for the first time.

Does he really want to stick so close to home for this?

Genji turns around.

His eyes are steadfast and open.

He reaches out with both hands.

One combs through a handful of silken white threads of Hanzo's hair and draws it towards him.

The other cups Hanzo's cheek, his fingers stroking along the white bristles of his beard.

"I could have anyone, brother," he says quietly but earnestly. He breaks eye contact to look at down at Hanzo's long hair woven through his fingers before he brings it to his lips and presses a kiss to the strands.

He locks gazes with Hanzo, his eyes intense but honest and clear.

"There is no one I'd rather be my first except you."

[a-romantics-guide-to-life]

⋆ ₊ ☽ ·˚𓍲𝓱𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓼 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓵 𓍲˚· ☾ ₊ ⋆

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: you and billy love each other so much but sometimes it seems you are doomed to repeat the sins of your father.

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: billy the kid x reader

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓼: angst (but this time with a happier ending!), yelling, anger, talks of underage drinking and underage sex, talks of daddy issues, established relationship

𝓪/𝓷: i have a million other drafts but i was very much inspired to write this immediately so... enjoy : )

You and Billy loved each other to the moon and back. Really, you did. 

The first time you two had met was magical. Sunsets and nights together plagued your memory as soft kisses and warm embraces accompanied love that spilled over the top. 

You had been running away from a home that was more like a prison. Ever since your mother died, your father had been slaving away at work and giving up the rest of him to alcohol, whores, and blunts. 

You knew it wasn’t healthy for you father, and you tried so goddamn hard to resist, to change, that you ended up falling into the sins of your father as well.

You slept around and at the tender age of 17, drunk the nights away in your house where your father would only come for a new shirt and new pants.

You tried so hard to atone once you finally found yourself, the prison of your mind had finally been opened and you could finally see the daylight once more. So, you took every worldly possession of yours and fled. You took a horse and rode as far as you could, only stopping at small rivers and streams to get water and rest for a bit. 

It was exhausting, running from town to town as far away as you could. But that was when you found a darling little town right by the mountains to stay in, it was quaint and plenty of people were looking for new employees. 

You particularly fell in love with this small apothecary shop. It was run by Mr.Edwards, a darling old man who treated you more like a grandchild rather than an employee. He had given you a place to stay and food to eat as you helped him procure all kinds of herbs and spices grown at the foot of the mountain.

Many people had called you a witch, some called you a healer. 

Billy thought more along the lines of Angel. 

When Billy first laid eyes on you, he couldn’t help but fall in love. He had brought in this poor cat who had been so skinny that she was near death. 

Billy had been frantically trying to find anyone who would help the poor feline when he happened upon you while hysterically begging every passerby if they knew any vets in the town or anyone who could at least help the poor cat Billy had decidedly named Precious. 

You had dropped your basket onto the ground and immediately held out your arms taking the kitty into your arms to take a look at what ailed the poor precious little thing. You had immediately decided that Mr.Edwards would be of much more help than you so you urgently asked Billy to take your basket with him and led him to the shop where you were able to make some medicine and feed Precious.

As you took care of Precious you had also inadvertently started taking care of Billy. 

As time went on, Billy didn’t feel the need to run away from this town, from you. He was so very happy whenever he was with you, eyes dazzling and lips perfect for kissing. 

You two were in love, so so so in love. 

Billy stayed as did you. He stayed even when Jesse rode into town looking for the hydrangea eyed cowboy. You stayed even when Billy rode out to Lincoln to help his buddies. He stayed even when Mr.Edwards died and you decided to keep the shop. You stayed even when Billy started working with Tunstall, even bringing one of their weekly meetings to your home. 

You two stayed for each other, that alone spoke volumes more than “I love you.”

But sometimes, the long day apart and short nights together were exhausting. Most nights you were already asleep when Billy got home.

He’d defeatedly kick off his worn leather boots and hang his hat on one of the old worn out wooden chairs at the table. He’d take his blouse of the day off and throw it at the foot of your shared bed where you would lay sleeping peacefully, dreaming of a day when you and Billy can forget the world and live happily ever after together, forever.

Billy’d curl up next, arms wrapping themselves around your waist as he pulls you closer to him. You’d shift, feeling Billy’s warm chest against your back and his strong arms wrapped protectively around you. Even Precious would feel Billy’s presence because without fail, she’d strut into the room, her tail held high as she jumped up and onto the bed curling right next to your and Billy’s entangled legs.

In the morning, you would wake much earlier than Billy, hesitantly pull yourself away from his protective and loving hold and head out for the day. Breakfast was always ready for him since you’d always make enough for the both of you. 

It was always so lonely. Sure, sometimes you’d wait up for him in the morning and Billy’d try to get home super early just for you but it wasn’t enough.

Especially when the war started. 

Billy knew you were strong enough to handle yourself, he made sure of it. He taught you how to shoot, how to fight hand to hand, even knife work. 

Billy had known exactly what he had signed up for by joining Charlie and the Regulators. Long weeks filled with running and shooting down the House. Weeks spent in Lincoln slowly blended into a month. Billy’s days were no longer filled with your sweet smile and slow loving moments but rather vicious bloody days where he’d dream about your loving gaze meeting his eyes and pray you were still safe. 

You rarely saw Billy during those periods of time. You had understood why he undertook the heroic mission of helping Lincoln but it still hurt, especially to admit, that he had chosen to help the town rather than stay with you. You still loved him of course, nothing could ever make you stop, and you were so proud of him for standing up for what was right but it got lonely. Alone, you could handle yourself pretty well, but nothing could get rid of the loneliness leeching onto you, sucking all happiness and joy from your soul. 

Billy still wanted you protected so he had asked one of the Regulators to follow you, from the house to the shop to the darling shop you always bought lunch and pastries from to your supplier. Billy knew you wouldn’t like it but he couldn’t help but assign one of them to make sure you were still safe. He even forced them to send him weekly letters updating him on how you were. He felt so bad, a war raging so violently in his mind that he couldn’t even sleep. 

He missed you. He missed your smile, your tender gaze, your humor, your love. Billy misses all of it. 

As did you. You missed Billy so much that you had started to write his name as your own in orders from the shop. You missed Billy so much that you had to sleep in your old bedroom because sleeping in the room that you and Billy had shared hurt too damn much to be alone in that room. 

And that’s how you spent your time. All by yourself, you spent the winter months worrying about Billy, trying to tell the boy who had been following and, supposedly, protecting you to leave you alone. You worked yourself half to death. You could barely stomach any food from the nervous stone that settled in your stomach. You were angry, sad, happy, depressed, joyous, nervous, just everything all at once. You felt like you were going crazy, you decided to write letters to Billy, none of which he responded to. You’d almost got on your horse and rode out to Lincoln yourself to see what was going on over there. 

Of course, the young boy watching you had expressly stopped you and forced you to turn around. He gave you a bullshit excuse telling you that Billy was fine, alive. 

You didn’t believe it. You knew Billy, he was probably making sure everyone else stayed alive, slaving away at night strategizing new ways to make the House sweat. You knewI he’d be putting everyone before himself and you knew that sooner or later he’d make a mistake and he’d pay the price.

If only you had been wrong.

“He’s been shot! He needs help NOW!” One of the men yelled, a bleeding Billy being hoisted on his and another’s shoulder.

You had been sitting by the balmy fire, trying your best to stay warm in the dead of winter. Truth was, you couldn’t sleep. It was one of those nights where you missed Billy so much that you couldn’t sleep unless his big polar bear arms were wrapped around you.

You were startled awake when a loud banging sound came from your door. You reached for your shotgun as you stalked carefully towards the door only to be met with two young men holding a bleeding, unconscious Billy.

You  started moving immediately, running upstairs to grab towels and a basin of water. You quickly moved everything off the table, laying down the creamy white towels. The men laid Billy down, a soft groan escaping his pale lips.

Your heart raced, a strong erratic drum beat ringing in your ears as unshed tears burned behind your eyes. You pressed your hands to his wounds, one on his chest, one on his upper arm.

“We need to undress him. I have some medical supplies in the bathroom down the hall, will one of you get them?” You turned to the taller one with who had taken off his hat. He nodded, racing down the hallway to the bathroom.

Your attention went back onto Billy. “Will you help me take off his shirt?” You turned to the one Billy had made follow you. He froze, his eyes moving erratically from the door to Billy. 

You looked to the door only to see that another man walked in.

“How’s he Tom?”

“I- uh I dunno, h-he won’t s-stop bleedin sir.”

“Now don’t you sir me, ain’t no superior o yours.”

The two complete strangers continued their back and forth all the while you had tended to Billy all by yourself.

The other one finally came back with the medical box. You nodded your thanks before getting to work.

You were washing your hands before even one of the men came up to you. They figured it was better to let you work.

The feel of Billy’s, your Billy’s, blood on your own hands nearly made you vomit. It hurt to know that the first time you saw Billy in months was under these grim circumstances. Him bleeding out on your dining table where you two used to kiss so softly in the early mornings; you wrapped up in a dress that Billy had once called the most brilliant shade of you, hands stained red with his blood.

“Hey miss, are you okay?” Asked one of the men. You turned to him, his hat in his hands, his eyes trained on the ground. 

You wiped your hands, your skin was raw and tingly from rubbing them so hard against the gruff towel.

“‘M fine, just didn’t think that the first time Billy comes home in nearly two months would be because he was shot.” 

He looks up at you, “Charlie Bowdre ma’am, I’m one of the farmers fighting with Billy on this noble cause.” 

He held his hand out to you, you gingerly took his hand shaking it.

“‘M very grateful you brought him back in one piece though, and so quickly too. Who knows how high his chances of survival would’ve been if you had gotten him here even one minute later.”

Charlie nodded and walked away, leaving you to the silence that your home offered.

Billy felt a sharp stinging pain as he hazily woke up. His eyes adjusted to his surroundings. 

He felt himself panic, his heart rate spiking as he felt that he was no longer wearing any clothes or in the cold harsh New Mexico winter. 

He sat up suddenly, pain sharp as barbed wire wrapped around his torso shooting up his spine, a groan leaving his lips. He looked around, squinting at the bright room he was in.

A loud thud drew his attention to you in the doorway, tears flowing down your peachy cheeks. The clean bowl in your hands was now on the floor at your feet as you hurriedly ran to Billy who lay on your bed.

Billy opened his arms as you collapsed right into him, a soft sigh leaving him as he buried his nose into your hair. You sobbed into his shoulder, his bare torso wet from your tears.

He wrapped his arms weakly around you, a dull pain shooting up and down his body racing around as he felt you cling onto him harder.

You pull away for a brief moment, your warm, tender, loving hand moving Billy’s clingy curls away from his face as your hand cups his cheek, kissing him tenderly.

He pressed further into you as his calloused hands remained steady on your hips. He rests his forehead against yours, his breaths slowing down. No words needed to be spoken amongst you two, the silence comforting to the two of you.

You finally look up at his topaz eyes as his eyes search yours. You press another soft kiss to his chapped lips, the feel of his rough and bloody lips on yours enough to light a fire within you to find whoever hurt your Billy. 

“How’re you feeling Billy?”

“‘M good now ‘m back ‘ere with you.” He smiles softly.

You sit up straight, distancing yourself with Billy. You don’t miss the flash wave of hurt that overtakes Billy’s eyes.

You stand, your arms crossing across your chest in indignation. “And you have come back, but after how long? Hmm? Has it even occurred to you that the first time I see you in months shouldn’t be because you’re running from the House or from the Law or whoever hurt you?”

“Baby, pretty mama, ya know I’d never ever want t’leave ya, right? Darlin’, I don’t want you caught up in all this fightin’.”

“Billy,” You sit next to the wounded outlaw, your hands coming to cup his face. His stubbly chin leaning into your hand, “I can help you and your friends. I know you know that, and yet you still left me. Love, I can handle myself, you made sure of it.”

“But I can’t protect you out there, every night, every day, I can’t always be there for ya Angel.”

“Billy, that’s the whole point. You don’t need to protect me, I can protect myself, I’ve been protecting myself.”

“Darlin’, ain’t no one out there that knows what tomorrow brings. I jus’ don’t wanna lose you.”

You scoff, “Exactly Billy, yet you seem to throw yourself out there anyway. I missed you, so much that it killed me to know that you could be dead out there. Dead! And I wouldn’t even know until your people send one of those poor farmer’s sons to tell me. I mean has it ever occurred to you that maybe, just maybe it would be a good idea to send me proof of life or something, maybe even, I dunno, a response even one of the letters I sent you?”

“Angel…”

“Billy, you don’t need to coddle me, okay? You don’t need to hide me from the war you’re fighting. I told you, I can help! I’ve been through much much worse I guarantee. And you can barely protect yourself, I mean just look at you! You came home bloody and beaten and I had to fish TWO bullets out of you, TWO! If you think that you are in any condition to fight out there, even to protect me then you sir, have another thing coming for you. If only you had let me he-”

“You will not involve yourself in this war, you hear me Angel. Never. ‘M sorry you feel that way and ‘m sorry I hurt you darlin’ but we are done talking about this, you will stay here for your protection.” He yells, standing up from the bed, towering over you. His nostrils flare and his arms grasp your own in his large hands.

You shake his arms off of you, turning away and walking to the door, burning, unshed tears welling in your eyes. Billy grabs your arm pulling you to him, your face pressed into his muscular chest. His arms came up to cradle your head, holding you there.

“Pretty mama, you have to understand,” he brings his hand to tilt your chin up, his deep ocean eyes, “I can’t lose you.” 

His thumbs rub your cheeks. You bring your hand up to cover his, his touch inviting you to lean into the familiar warmth of him.

“Billy, I can’t lose you either. Which is why you have to let me help you.”

“Baby, it’s not safe out there. Who knows what kind of monsters are out there to take you away from me darlin’.”

“Billy, love, I’ve been with those monsters before, I once called them family. I drank and ate with them as have you dearest. Ain’t nothing out there that could take me away from you, over my dead body.”

He nods solemnly and kisses you so gently, you’re afraid of breaking the moment into a million shards. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, breathing him in as you kiss him again urgently. Slowly, he lifts you up and carries you two back onto the bed, leaving everything to the wind.

sorry for another long one, hope you enjoyed! (lets also not mention how long it took me to post this)

[honorhearted]

Rebekah hummed under her breath, not seeming satisfied with their results. “What about this time around, we try another room, rather than the bed again?" she suggested. "Maybe the shower, or your office?” 

Ben smirked. "Call it the teacher in me, but shower sex is dangerous...I'll consider it if the non-slip mat stays on the floor."

God, was it any wonder he was still single? It wasn't exactly sexy to fall into "safety first!" mode, nor was it appealing to be so logical about something that was decidedly all instinct.

Rebekah hesitated. “Or…even here, on the kitchen counter…”

Ben's eyes snapped up to her face. "Unsanitary, but intriguing. Just make sure my arse stays away from the butter dish, and I might be amenable."

Appearing discomfited, Rebekah said in a rush, “We have to go again at least once tonight and twice tomorrow, so we might as well keep things…interesting?” 

"Three times," Ben echoed, though more to himself than to her. Cheeks pinkening, he rolled his lips inward and nodded, trying not to think too much about her gasps and the feel of her tongue in his mouth. "Yeah, uh...you're right that repetition is key, but the same positions and process aren't. Laying out precisely what we want might actually make this a little less awkward too, because I'll know I have your explicit permission with every touch."

Rebekah nodded. Her hands twisted the pen in between her fingers, and then she blurted, "W-where do you like to be touched? Your weak spots, I mean..."

Ben exhaled, shifting in his seat. "Um...the usual spots, I'd say. The neck and below the belt are always winners, but I guess that's a given with just about every guy." Here, he hesitated, then added, "What you did earlier was really nice, too...when you were kissing along my...ah..." Awkwardly, he gestured to his midriff. "The whole touching everywhere but there angle is always a little maddening."

Leaning toward her, Ben's face grew impossibly hotter. "Is it bad that this is kind of turning me on?" He ducked his head into his hands, laughing self-consciously. "God, I don't know if I can take much more of this, Beks...our list is like a submission to Penthouse." Quickly, he flung up a hand. "Er...not that I've ever read that, of course, but...there's only so much a guy can listen to before he starts getting unraveled. Alas, it would seem all men truly are the same."

Lowering his hands into his lap, Ben clasped them and watched Rebekah's eyes, fully aware of how indecently close they'd become throughout all this. "What about you?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "Where do you want to be touched?"

He’d agreed to her suggestions with little hesitation, so why did Bekah still feel so tense? It wasn’t as though they hadn’t already done it once. Why was it so awkward to talk about it now? Was she honestly so hopelessly into him that she couldn’t even discuss something that’d already happened between them? 

Maybe it was because their coupling was more of a means to an end. It was for both of them to have a chance at parenthood, not because Ben personally wanted to sleep with her. That was something she didn’t want to have to think about, lest she completely ruin the vibe. For Pete’s sake, maybe she needed another beer…

Busying herself, she scribbled down their current ideas. Under Ben’s name was “Shakespeare,” and “outdoors,” while under hers was “Mirror,” and a capital “M.”

Bekah didn’t feel right writing the entire word out at that moment. As she glanced up cautiously at him, she wondered who was sporting pinker cheeks. 

"That seem like a good enough starting point?" he asked. 

“Hmmm…” 

She wanted to say yes, but staring down at the short, sad list, she knew they should at least try to think of a couple more ideas, but rather than say that out loud, she opted to continue with another suggestion of her own. 

“What about this time around, we try another room, rather than the bed again? Maybe the shower, or your office?” 

What was the state of his office anyway? Was it even usable? 

“Or…even here, on the kitchen counter…”

The last part had sort of tumbled from her mouth in a slow, last minute thought as she shrugged through an uncertain wince, “We have to go again at least once tonight and twice tomorrow, so we might as well keep things…interesting?” 

Could she be any more awkward? The whole purpose of this conversation was to make things less so!

With a quiet sigh, she asked, "W-where do you like to be touched?" She suddenly felt dreadfully small, "Your weak spots, I mean..."

[folkinsomnia]

I am omw ✈️ ruminating a Big Oof in the tags thx

claps 4 me I hit 30 tags of Thoughts

[pickle-inspector]

100 questions: 1-100. (Or 33 and 59)

WELL DANG SCREW IT I FEEL LIKE OVERSHARING I ALWAYS FEEL LIKE OVERSHARING *CACKLES*

If anyone else wants to reblog the post, it was 100 Questions Also This Is A Link

Have a read more. Warning: So many questions about kissing. SO many. I got progressively more frustrated and I hope you can tell.

1: is there a boy/girl in your life?There are lots of people in my life. Also, no.2: think of the last person who hurt you; do you forgive them?Mmmmmm, nope. I don’t know what you would count as “hurting me”?3: what do you think of when you hear the word “meow?”...cats. What the heck.4: what’s something you really want right now?Cheesy corn, but Critical Role is on and that requires cooking5: are you afraid of falling in love?I’m not sure it’s possible for me, but I don’t think so?6: do you like the beach?Yeah, sun and sand and water is great.7: have you ever slept on a couch with someone else?See, the couch at my parents’ house has the pull-out footrest things, and Sundays are made for napping. So yes, technically, I have fallen asleep on the same couch as someone else. 8: what’s the background on your cell?Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III9: name the last four beds you were sat on?My dog sat on me while I was at home last, otherwise I couldn’t say.10: do you like your phone?I’m super mad that I cracked the glass on the back, but otherwise yes.11: honestly, are things going the way you planned?No, but my plans were sort of nebulous and vague anyway12: who was the last person whose phone number you added to your contacts?A coworker13: would you rather have a poodle or a rottweiler?DOG.14: which hurts the most, physical or emotional pain?I...don’t know? Maybe emotional because that doesn’t heal as quickly usually?15: would you rather visit a zoo or an art museum?Depends on the zoo and museum. 16: are you tired?Always.17: how long have you known your 1st phone contact?First? Like, first added to my phone? Probably my mom? So my whole life?18: are they a relative?Assuming my guess was right, then yes. 19: would you ever consider getting back together with any of your exes?He’s married; no thanks. 20: when did you last talk to the last person you shared a kiss with?Baccalaureate, so....three years ago?21: if you knew you had the right person, would you marry them today?Sure.22: would you kiss the last person you kissed again?No. Again, married. 23: how many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now?None, just a watch.24: is there a certain quote you live by?”Life needs things to live.”25: what’s on your mind?Critical Role.26: do you have any tattoos?No.27: what is your favorite color?Black.28: next time you will kiss someone on the lips?Heck if I know. I don’t even know if I’m gonna kiss anyone ever again? (Also, kissing is gross leave me alone.)29: who are you texting?Nobody is texting me right now, though I should respond to one my mom sent about an hour ago.30: think to the last person you kissed, have you ever kissed them on a couch?Why are there so many kissing questions and no.31: have you ever had the feeling something bad was going to happen and you were right?Yupp. I’m good at that. 32: do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to?Yes.33: do you think anyone has feelings for you?No.34: has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes?No. Yes. Wait. I don’t remember. 35: say the last person you kissed was kissing someone right in front of you?Seriously. What is with this quiz and kissing? Also, I don’t like when people kiss in front of me.36: were you single on valentines day?Yes.37: are you friends with the last person you kissed? Do you like dogs?Yes, dogs are great. They’re my favorite. Thanks for asking.38: what do your friends call you?Yurii, Yoyo, and Pickle. 39: has anyone upset you in the last week?I dislike most of my coworkers, but I want to punch the General Manager so badly.40: have you ever cried over a text?Over a Tumblr IM, yes.41: where’s your last bruise located?Haven’t got any right now.42: what is it from?See previous question. 43: last time you wanted to be away from somewhere really bad?Every time I’m at work.44: who was the last person you were on the phone with?My dad. Unless you count at work, then some random lady who was making stuff up to get mad at me.45: do you have a favourite pair of shoes?I like my converse. 46: do you wear hats if your having a bad hair day?Depends on where I’m doing that day. if it’s work, then screw it, who cares.47: would you ever go bald if it was the style?No.48: do you make supper for your family?I don’t make supper for myself.49: does your bedroom have a door?Yes.50: top 3 web-pages?Tumblr. I don’t actually use other websites.51: do you know anyone who hates shopping?Me. My mom. My sister.52: does anything on your body hurt?Not in particular right now.53: are goodbyes hard for you?Nah.54: what was the last beverage you spilled on yourself?Dr. Pepper.55: how is your hair?In existence. Too long.56: what do you usually do first in the morning?I hit snooze seven times or more.57: do you think two people can last forever?If they are committed to each other, then yes, definitely.58: think back to january 2007, were you single?Oh shoot, that might have been the one January that I wasn’t single? Wow. Good guess.59: green or purple grapes?Green.60: when’s the next time you will give someone a big hug?*shrug* I don’t generally initiate hugs, so I never know.61: do you wish you were somewhere else right now?I’m not at work, so no, I’m good.62: when will be the next time you text someone?The next time someone texts me or I have something I need to say or ask. I’m not psychic. I cannot see the future. Stop asking these questions?63: where will you be 5 hours from now?Sleeping, with any luck.64: what were you doing at 8 this morning.Sleeping.65: this time last year, can you remember who you liked?Yes.66: is there one person in your life that can always make you smile?Sure.67: did you kiss or hug anyone today?Heck no.68: what was your last thought before you went to bed last night?Man, I was working on the OC/universe stuff. It’s what I do while I’m falling asleep.69: have you ever tried your hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?Probably.70: how many windows are open on your computer?Five.71: how many fingers do you have?Ten?72: what is your ringtone?Red/Blue title screen song73: how old will you be in 5 months?2674: where is your mum right now?Home.75: why aren’t you with the person you were first in love with or almost in love?I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.76: have you held hands with somebody in the past three days?Heck no.77: are you friends with the people you were friends with two years ago?Technically, perhaps.78: do you remember who you had a crush on in year 7?Yeah, sure.79: is there anyone you know with the name mike?I have a cousin who went by Mike(y) until he got too old and mature for that.80: have you ever fallen asleep in someones arms?Not since I was a baby.81: how many people have you liked in the past three months?There were a couple of coworkers I didn’t hate, so I guess I technically--Oh, you mean crushes. No.82: has anyone seen you in your underwear in the last 3 days?No.83: will you talk to the person you like tonight?No.84: you’re drunk and yelling at hot guys/girls out of your car window, you’re with?First, I don’t drink. Second, guys/girls are not hot. Third, I don’t have IRL friends.85: if your bf/gf was into drugs would you care?Yes, I would. Drugs are expensive and stuff.86: what was the most eventful thing that happened last time you went to see a movie?I watched a movie.87: who was your last received call from?My Dad.88: if someone gave you $1,000 to burn a butterfly over a candle, would you?Who the heck is offering me that much money to burn a butterfly.89: what is something you wish you had more of?Money. Free time. Mostly free time, though more money could mean I have more free time.90: have you ever trusted someone too much?Sure?91: do you sleep with your window open?No.92: do you get along with girls?Sure?93: are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth?No.94: does sex mean love?I’m not interested in sex, so sex means bupkis to me.95: you’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, is that a problem?Yes, I’m locked in a room. Why am I locked in a room.96: have you ever kissed anyone with a lip ring? How about cats? Sure! Not my favorite, but they’re nice.97: did you sleep alone this week?NO, I HAVE LIKE TEN STUFFED ANIMALS I SHARE THE BED WITH.98: everybody has somebody that makes them happy, do you?I have some people I don’t hate, so sure.99: do you believe in love at first sight?No.100: who was the last person that you pinky promise?Heck if I know.

[fairyfuyu]

morning muse | megumi fushiguro

summary: early morning sunrises, pretty flowers, and unrequited love (although this is a misconception), this is my submission for @kodzucafe's safe place collab <3 happy early birthday my love

wc: 5.7k

cw: nsfw 18+, characters aged up to 20’s, really soft fluffy shit because megumi is my boyfriend :), best friend yuuji, also yuuji has strawberry blonde hair in this not that it really matters but uh yeah, use of pet name sweet girl (from yuuji even tho we’re besties calm down) & my love, sweetheart (from megumi), unprotected sex, somnophilia (?) but not really, fingering, cum eating but again not really (we suck our own arousal off megumi's fingers), creampie, soft love making so if that is icky to you bye !!

note: thank u for partially betareading this @kazutoraloml and for the kind feedback in the gc @peach-memoirs i am eternally grateful to you both <3

!!! mdni !!!

Morning was upon you.

The warm glow from the sun kissed your cheeks as dawn came around, the moon bidding farewell to you till it’s return at dusk. You stood at your sink, gazing out the window to the field that surrounded your humble abode to welcome the beautiful day that awaited you. The teapot now filled, you placed it atop the lit stove, readying the herbs for a fresh cup of tea.

This morning’s gentle sunrise seemed to be your muse for today.

Once your tea was properly steeped and fixed with a bit of honey, your bare feet padded their way across the creaky hardwoods, into the bright space towards the back of your house. The living room has become your studio, floors stained with every hue imaginable and countless paintings piled against the surrounding walls. A table nestled in the corner of the room, home to your collection of pigments and mediums, where you spent endless hours grinding and mixing and perfecting your own collection of paints; you’d learnt from your mother, who you had idly watched as she created her own masterpieces in this very home, who you had memorized each of her movements and proportions and techniques when it came to art. With every stroke of your paintbrush to this day, you always thought of her.

A newly stretched canvas—the result of yesterday’s trip to the market and your discovery of a wondrous Belgian linen—rested on the easel, just begging to be ruined.

Before you took your seat at the stool in front of the blank canvas, you ran a finger across the various paint pots, pulling aside those you would use; your finger stopped on an almost-empty jar of indigo paint. Turning the jar over in your hands once, you decidedly grabbed a basket and headed outside to go forage for some plants that would aid you in replenishing the needed paint.

With the basket tucked under your arm, off you went into the sparse forest near your cottage, in search of indigo specifically, but also any other good finds you managed to stumble upon. The fresh air enveloped you, offering a warm hug to protect you on your brief venture out by yourself, though it was not one foreign to you. At this point, you were practically an expert of the acres of land that surround you, from your hermitage to the town centre an hour’s journey inland. Most people who you run into and chat with assume that you’d get rather lonely living out here all alone, but you couldn’t disagree more; you were happiest out here, free to live as you wanted, as slowly as you wanted, without the expectations that came with living in town. You were simply at peace.

Sometimes you sit and think about your childhood, the friends you’ve made early on had dwindled over the years, but that was to be expected. You cherished those memories greatly, especially with the strawberry blonde and brunette you had grown up with; the three of you were a tight knit bunch, incredibly energetic and curious beyond belief—it’s bittersweet now that you think about it, considering how things ended years ago. Yuuji Itadori (the flower boy, as you liked to call him), was luckily not too far away, just past the valley; you visited him often, he shared many a dinner with you at this point, and when he lost his grandfather last year, you spent quite a bit of time together since you were all the family he had left, sadly enough. He would’ve had one other person to call family, if they hadn’t left in the dead of night years ago, for reasons unbeknownst to the both of you. But that person—Megumi Fushiguro...he was always a bit of a mystery for as long as you’d known him, there was no denying it.

You hadn’t even realized you were daydreaming at this point, staring into a huckleberry bush at your feet while you dwelled on the past. Perhaps it was the fruit themselves that sparked the recollection, for the childhood trio of yours spent morning after morning picking the fresh huckleberries from their vines till the pads of your fingers were stained purple.

As if your body moved on its own, your basket was soon filled with the berries, and your feet were carrying you westward, toward the home of your friend. You decided to forsake your scavenge for indigo at least for now, prioritizing the surprise visit to the strawberry blonde, especially since there was a bit of a chance that he would have the plant of which you were in search.

Soon enough, after weaving through the tall grasses and listening to the birds circling overhead, the little house came into view, surrounded by a rainbow of flowers, the alluring aroma itself greeting you yards away.

It was almost as if Yuuji knew you were coming; there he was, withdrawing from the safety of his home to step outside, cloaked in a linen tunic and watering can in hand. He immediately saw you amid the flowers leading up to his house, eyes lighting up at the sight of your spontaneous arrival.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite girl.” He sang as you neared him, dropping your basket and allowing him to pick you up in a warm embrace. He pressed an innocent kiss to your temple. “What did I have to do to be graced with your presence today?”

“I was out foraging and found some huckleberries and thought of you…” You explained, bending down to pick up the forgotten basket. Holding it out to him, you smiled. “Wanna snack on some and talk a bit?”

“Of course, I’d love nothing more.” He responded with a toothy grin, taking the basket from you since you trekked all this way carrying such a weight. “I made some lavender cake this morning; would you like a piece?”

“Absolutely. That sounds heavenly,” You said, following right behind him as he showed you inside. Yuuji’s home was always so tidy, lush arrangements of his flowers he’s cultivated, and always stocked with delicious treats that he’s made from scratch using all ingredients from his garden. He was genuinely a wonder, a true friend, a beautiful soul.

He set the basket down, snatching up a few of the berries and popping them into his mouth. “Tastes like childhood.”

“I thought the same,” You hesitated, watching as he retrieved a plate for the cake. “Reminds me of Megumi.”

He stilled his movements, a visual sigh overtaking his shoulders. “I still can’t believe he just…left. Poof, gone.” The cake was now placed effortlessly on the ceramic, and he topped it off with a sprig of fresh lavender before handing it to you. “Makes me wonder what things would be like if he were here.”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, taking a bite of the sweet treat and nodding in satisfaction. “How would you think they’d be different?”

Cutting himself a piece of his own, he elaborated. “I dunno. It just feels…incomplete without him, I guess. I’d always imagined him starting up his own little gig, teaching kids how to shoot a bow and hunt for ourselves just like Satoru did.” He looked off in thought for a moment, brushing it aside. “I also thought he had his eye on you ever since we were little, but it seems I was quite wrong.”

That comment of his piqued your interest tenfold. Megumi, fancying you? You’d hardly believe it; if anything it’s always been quite obvious that Yuuji was interested in you, never Megumi though. To be honest, he never really seemed to take a liking to any person ever. You didn’t know whether or not he just didn’t find himself feeling that way towards anyone, or if he just didn’t know how to handle the emotions that he couldn’t stop himself from feeling.

Unbeknownst to you, it was the latter.

You twirled the fork atop the platter, mulling the idea over in your head and averting your eyes from your friend’s. “I doubt he felt anything more towards me than what he felt towards you.”

At this, the boy let out a loud laugh, clutching his stomach in laughter. “If only that were at all true.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, quirking a brow at the way he found your comment so funny. “Do you know something I don’t?”

He shrugged, unable to contain the evil grin plastered on his face. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

Squinting your eyes in a suspecting manner, you took another bite. “Well, even if he did like me, it’s been moons since he’s come by. So I’d assume that was just a pipe dream for him, considering the effort he put in pursuing me.”

“You think he’s the one that never put in any effort?”

You stilled, jaw stomping mid-chew and eyes finally connecting back with Yuuji’s. “What do you mean?”

“You, sweet girl...” he started, licking his utensil clean of the icing, “are much more oblivious than I thought you were.”

With that he placed his now clean plate aside, grabbing yet another handful of berries from the basket next to you. Your eyes remained trained on him as he did so, chomping down on the fruit which painted his lips purple. “How are you doing, by the way? It’s been a bit since you last paid me a visit.”

“Might I remind you that you’re always welcome to make the hike back to my home across the way.” You chastised him, dragging a lone finger through the remnants of frosting left on the dish, bringing it to your mouth and licking it clean.

He chuckled, eyes drifting out the window beside him. “Yeah, one of these days I will.”

“You think I’m a mess, don’t you?” He just stared at you, wide eyed. You shrugged in return. “Not that I blame you. I am a mess. I think it adds to the creativity, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.” He teased right back.

It wasn’t a secret that your place of living was the epitome of an artist’s dwelling, papers and drawings and canvases strewn throughout the entire space. In your kitchen, the sun room, your bathroom, even...but it was all unapologetically you. And you had absolutely no shame in your home being your safe haven.

You smiled chuckled lightheartedly, standing up from your seat and smoothing out your skirt. “I should get going before I lose more daylight; keep some of the berries, please.”

“Could you use anything in return?” He inquired, snatching a bowl from under the kitchen counter.

Divvying out half the berries for your friend, you nodded. “Actually, would you have any indigo I could perhaps steal?”

His mouth broke out into a smile. “Always for you, sweet girl.”

“What would I do without you, flower boy.”

You floated behind him as he led you to his expansive garden, taking in the unending variety of colors and textures framed by the lush greenery of the earth. The petals radiated with such a vibrance—a true testament to Yuuji’s gift for nursing his garden. All the flowers were in bloom, as if they had been awaiting your arrival, but out of all the flora your eyes fell on a patch of poppies a couple yards away. Your favorite flower, a smile graced your lips at the sight.

He stopped in his tracks, kneeling down before the brilliant bush of indigo, pricking a sprig off between his fingers and holding it up for you to see.

“Will this suffice?”

“Yuuji, you are a master!” You exclaimed, graciously taking the gorgeous plant in your hand and easing it into the empty space left in the basket.

“How much will you need?” He asked, continuing plucking vine after vine of the blue plant for your use, handing each of them to you.

“Oh, this will do just fine,” you said, glancing down at your haul so far.

“A little extra, just for good measure.” He insisted, handing a generous vine to top off your collection, knowing you always were modest with asking for anything because you never wanted to come off as greedy.

“You’re too kind, Yuuji.” You told him, flashing a soft smile up at him.

He simply leant down and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek. “You know I’d give you the sun, the moon, and the stars if I could, sweet girl.”

You turned towards the poppies across the garden. “May I steal a poppy as well?”

In an instant, he was kneeling before the scarlet flowers, plucking a particularly stunning one and returning to you, tucking the flower behind your ear. “Beautiful.”

Warmth swelled in your chest and you gave him one last hug, bidding him farewell for now. You reluctantly fled his presence, waving back at him and shouting a final don’t be a stranger! to him as you traversed down the dirt path from which you first emerged from earlier.

The sun was high in the blue sky as you set off on your journey back home, indicating it was already noon. Half the day was gone, and you haven’t even put paint on the canvas yet. That wasn’t a problem, though; you put no stress on yourself in terms of planning out your creative endeavors. You couldn’t properly convey your visions without the proper pigments mixed, which was the first thing on your to-do list when you reached the other side of the valley, back to your home.

Although, as soon as you crested that swell in the earth, the first thing you saw was not your little cottage standing alone against the clear sky, but your little cottage’s front door ajar, and an unfamiliar horse tied to a tree in front.

Had a bandit stumbled upon your home out here in the remote land?

Your free hand immediately found the dagger hidden beneath your skirt you kept for times like these, ready to protect yourself from any danger that had imparted its way into your home. Feet featherlight atop the gravel before the front door, you edged your way inside, wide eyes sweeping your field of view cautiously. Silence only filled the home, the only sound being your soft footsteps and the slight creak the floorboards emitted beneath you.

((please play clair de lune right here i am begging u))

And then, you saw him.

Standing in the center of your studio, there he was, the tuft of black hair facing you, concealing his face, the true identity of your intruder. But you didn’t need to see his face to know who he was; his head was turned down, eyes locked on one of the paintings you’d hung up. It was a depiction of the summer day before he left, a bright blue sky just like the one today, and a single poppy in his hand.

The intruder himself also clutched the same flower between his slender fingers.

As if he could sense your presence, he turned around, finally revealing himself. Those dark eyes bore straight into yours, and the smallest smile tugged at his lips. “Knew you’d still be here.”

“Megumi,” You breathed, finally releasing the breath you had unknowingly held. “You came back.”

“I’m sorry I left in the first place.” He said, taking his first step towards you, then another, and another, before he was right in front of you. He held out the poppy. “For you.”

You took the flower from him, eyes flickering between the brilliant red hue and the boy in front of you. “Why did you leave?”

“I thought it would be good for me to get away, to clear my head…” his words trailed off as he studied you, confusion and surprise, but most of all, excitement written all over your face. “As rude as it sounds, I thought distance would allow me to forget about you.”

Your mouth opened and closed, unknowing of what to say at this new information. Without him saying a word more, you knew what he meant; from what Yuuji had told you just hours prior, how oblivious you are, it was all falling into place.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the realization, a pang of guilt striking your heart. But Megumi continued. “The longer I was gone, though, the more I missed you. I would write Yuuji every so often to check up on you, since I didn’t know if you were still here or if you even cared to know I still thought about you. I thought maybe you would hate me since I left.”

“You didn’t even say goodbye,” You told him, opening your eyes once more and looking into your friend’s eyes. “You just vanished.”

“That last day was a goodbye enough for me,” he said, “That’s the happiest I’ve been in quite some time. I wanted to remember you happy, smiling and laughing in that pretty field out back; if I told you my plan, you would’ve gotten sad, and I would never forgive myself for leaving you sad.”

“I think leaving without a word is sadder.” You murmured, allowing yourself to finally feel any type of emotion other than pure shock. “I had to go to your house by myself and find it completely empty, not even a note or a warning as to where you went.”

“I wrote you a week later-”

“You were gone for 4 years Megumi!” You cried out, feeling hot tears prick at your eyes from all the unearthed emotions, “I was so scared, thinking that something had happened to you. Yuuji spent every night with me until we heard from you because of how distraught I was.”

He was still for a moment. “So you did care about me, after all.”

“Of course I cared about you, dummy.” You sniffled, trying to hold back the tears. Your gaze dropped down to the flower between your fingers. “You were my best friend and you left me.”

“I wanted to be more than just your best friend.”

“You could’ve told me that.”

“I thought it was obvious.”

“Not to me.” You said, finally returning to his dark eyes.

His hand drifted up to cup your face gently, his eyes flitting down to your lips for the shortest second. “Is it obvious now?”

You nodded wordlessly, feeling yourself being drawn closer to him, before finally, your lips were just barely ghosting over one another. He whispered the declaration against your lips: “I’ve been in love with you this whole time.”

It was you who closed that sliver of air between you, your lips locking in a passionate kiss, eager, desperate, filled with every emotion possible. His hands held your face, your own drifting up to rest around his neck; the second his longue traced your bottom lip, you easily gave him access to explore your mouth, just as he’s been longing to do for far too long.

Megumi’s head was spinning. Although he feigned great confidence showing up unannounced like this, saying all these things he’s kept to himself for so long, he was truly falling apart from the inside out at your reciprocation of affection he so desperately wanted to show you.

He had you, his childhood best friend and the person who has been on his mind with every waking breath, finally in his arms, and he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

His lips stilled, not wanting to rush things too quickly, not wanting to force you into anything you didn’t want to do. Resting his forehead against yours, the two of you were quiet, breathless, questioning who would say something first.

It was you who spoke up. “I’m really happy you’re here, Megumi.”

“I am too, ___. Believe me.” He shut his eyes, willing the blood to stop rushing to his crotch and emptying his head of any lewd thought he held in his mind of you.

You noticed his furrowed eyebrows through your eyelashes, and you unclasped your hands from around his neck, still holding the poppy he gave you and looking down at it. Your fingers snatched the flower out of your hair. “I’m gonna put these in a vase.” You mumbled, quickly spinning around and searching the shelves for an empty vessel.

Megumi stood there, unknowing what to do, as you filled the vase with some water, immersing the stems in the liquid and displaying the twin flowers on your window sill. You looked back at him, unable to contain the grin you revealed to him. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’d be delighted to.”

Even though Megumi removed himself from your life for the past four years, you instantly fell back into comfortable conversation as if you just saw him yesterday. Although, you noticed he’s developed more of a voice than he previously had in his teenage years, and along with that newly found chatty nature, came the consistent smile that softly rested on his lips, whether he was the one talking or listening to whatever you had to say. And whenever you spoke, there was a new twinkle in his eyes you never noticed before. Maybe it was always there, as he would probably argue, and maybe it was more obvious due to the declaration of his love, or the passionate kiss the two of you shared. But regardless of why, you were beyond glad to see it now.

The sun having set behind the curvature of the earth hours ago, you and the ravenette had retired to the iron loveseat situated amongst your little garden you tried so hard to care for with the help of Yuuji.

You clutched the steaming mug of tea between your hands, relishing in the bit of warmth it provided, while Megumi’s long fingers traced around the rim of his cup.

He was in the middle of recounting a story from his time away, but as much as you adored listening to his soft voice, you couldn’t help your attention from settling on the way his digits ran along the stoneware. Your mind drifted into inappropriate territory, thanks to the late time it was and the way he was practically teasing you at this point.

Which, he really was teasing you. It was so obvious the way your eyes were transfixed on his fingers, mind clearly elsewhere while he droned on about his story. He had to bite back a laugh, halting his speech; this caught your attention.

You shook your head to rid yourself of those thoughts, taking a sip of the chamomile tea. “Sorry, I promise I was listening, ‘m just really tired.”

“You can go to sleep—I didn’t mean to keep you up so late. I should get going anyways-”

“Stay here!” You insisted, perking up at the idea the second it escaped your mouth. “I mean, unless you don’t want to.”

He just smiled. “Of course I want to.”

Following you back inside, he retrieved a nightshirt from his lone bag he brought with him and changed into it in your living room, while you retreated to your bedroom to throw on a nightgown. He lingered in the open living space, not wanting to intrude on your naked figure; sticking your head out, you whistled at him to get his attention.

His head whipped around, and you chuckled. “You coming or what?”

“I don’t have to sleep in your bed if that makes you uncomfortable…” He said, standing firm on his two feet.

Your feet carried you over to him, your warm hands grabbing his cold ones. “I promise, you couldn’t make me uncomfortable even if you tried.”

As Megumi climbed in beside you, he was extremely aware of how your body was placed and where he was going to keep his hands while he slept. He settled on clasping his hands above the covers, laying flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling. You internally rolled your eyes at how respectful he was being, but knowing he was just waiting for you to get comfortable, you nudged your way under his arm so you could hug his side, your head in the crook of his arm.

“Thank you for coming back to me, Megumi.”

“I’m sorry I ever left you, ___.”

A short pause. “I love you, Megumi.”

His heart swelled at hearing you return what he had revealed earlier.

“And I love you, ___.”

You hid your smile into his chest.

“Sleep well.” You whispered as you shut your eyes for the night.

Megumi’s eyes flitted down to your peaceful figure, taking a deep breath and mentally thanking whatever celestial being was out there for getting him to this position. He craned his head down to press and soft kiss to the top of your hair. “You too, my love.”

Your eyes drifted open to a sunny bedroom and two arms wrapped around your waist; the warmth that Megumi gave off enveloped you so nicely. A large yawn overcame you, causing your whole body to shift slightly and allowing you to feel Megumi’s hard cock pressed directly into your ass. Elation surged throughout your body as you softly rolled your hips back into his once more, eliciting a quiet whimper from the boy; though, he continued to sleep.

Rolling over so you now faced him, you smiled at the sight of his eyes fluttered closed, his pretty eyelashes on display for you, his hair unruly from his slumber. You gently kissed his nose. “Wake up, ‘Gumi.” You whispered to him.

He blinked at the soft touch, waking up ever so slightly. It was obvious the way his cock was throbbing behind his underwear, and at the realization, a blush spread across his cheeks; although, he didn’t try to hide it, especially not after you tossed one leg over his waist and pulled him closer to you.

He knew that you knew he was beyond turned on right now, and you were more than happy to indulge in his desires.

As soon as you gave him that wordless green light, he rutted his crotch against yours, allowing you to truly feel just how hard he was. His arms tightened around you as he placed a kiss to your forehead. “Sleep well, my love?” He mumbled sleepily against your skin as he continued to lazily hump you.

“I did, and you?” You whispered back, fingernails digging lightly into his back as the pressure in your core continued to build. You were sure that your lack of undergarments beneath your nightgown had your arousal soaking through the fabric as you rolled your hips in sync with his.

“The best sleep I’ve got in years.” He murmured, waking up further and starting to get more desperate. He rolled you onto your back and crawled on top of you, his hands placed on either side of your body as he looked down at you through his eyelashes. “God, you’re a dream.” He sighed breathlessly before crashing his lips onto yours.

His hands shoved the fabric of your nightgown up, revealing your bare body. He pulled away only for a moment to take in the image of you beneath him; you felt your face heat up in embarrassment, becoming shy all of a sudden at how exposed you were. Regardless, you allowed him to lift the material over your head and drop it to the floor beside you. Megumi noticed how bashful you had gotten, and he was quick to ease your anxiety. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He whispered, kissing you once more. “Why're you getting all shy on me now?”

“Because…” you whimpered, grabbing his wrist and guiding it to your core, cupping your pussy with his hand. “I’m just, really turned on, right now.”

His long fingers dragged between your wet folds, collecting your arousal. “You’re this wet for me, hm?” He teased, dipping a finger into your pulsating hole.

You were stuttering over your words as he fingered you, thighs shaking and eyes screwed shut in euphoria. “Ah, fuck...M-Megumi, I-I…”

He halted his movements, sensing you were trying to get his attention. “Is everything okay?”

“Y-yeah, it’s just…” You stammered, thoughts racing every which way.

His eyes searched your face for any indication of uncomfort as he removed his hand from your heat. “Oh, h-have you never done any-”

“No, no!” You were quick to deny him; it was true that you weren’t a virgin at all, but you’d be lying if you said bedding someone was a regular occurrence for you. “I have...it’s just been a while, I guess...”

A smirk crept across the ravenette’s face. “Can I take care of you, then?”

His hand ran along your body, leaving goosebumps along your skin in their wake. You nodded, your mouth hung open in anticipation and awe as his fingers found your dripping core once again. Locking eyes with his dark, moody irises, he sank a singular digit between your folds, causing you to drop your head to the side and release a moan at the feeling having returned.

“Oh my—Gumi…” You whined as he began pumping his finger in and out of you.

The way your walls felt around him was driving him wild, so wet and warm, hugging him just as if you were made for him. He added a second, slowly plunging both fingers into you, allowing you to feel every ridge of his knuckles as you sucked him in further.

Your tired eyes looked up at him. The wish fell effortlessly from your lips. “Kiss me.”

And he did; he captured your lips in such a heated kiss, his tongue immediately finding itself exploring your mouth and practically dripping with desire. His taste was intoxicating to you, and that mixed with the way his fingers were stretching you out so perfectly to fit him just right⁠—it all created a buzz in your head, a feeling so warm and so dizzying that you never wanted it to leave.

But just when you thought your orgasm was approaching, he removed himself entirely, bringing his hand up and inspecting the way your arousal shone prettily in the morning sunlight. Your weak hands came up to grab his wrist, bringing his fingers to your mouth and sucking them clean.

“Fuck,” Megumi groaned at the sight, unable to leave his erection untouched any longer. His shirt was off in an instant, followed by his underwear, leaving the two of you naked and bathed in the warm glow of your bedroom.

As his dexterous hand wrapped around his impressive length, so rigid and flushed a dark pink, you batted your eyelashes up at the pretty boy. “Please fuck me, Megumi.”

“Only since you said please.” He chuckled breathlessly, although the request nearly sent him cumming all over your bare body.

He positioned himself at your entrance, dragging his leaking tip between your folds, mixing his own arousal with yours, before edging himself in. The intrusion involuntarily sent your thighs clamping around his torso, but his free hand gripped your flesh and held your leg down against the mattress. “Gotta let me in, sweetheart.” He mumbled, his head falling into the crook of your neck. He eased his cock in further till he filled you up, his balls resting against the curve of your ass.

Giving you a second to adjust, you kissed the arm closest to your head, catching his attention. He picked his head up, your noses brushing ever so gently against one another. “Hi,” You simply stated, pupils completely blown as you realized Megumi was fully inside you now.

He smiled down at you, shutting his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath so as not to cum prematurely, because after all, its not like he’s been fucking his fist every night for the past four years thinking about this very moment. He replied after that brief second, dragging himself out of you and just leaving the tip in, before thrusting back up into you, punctuating the action with a nonchalant, “Hey there, sweetheart.”

You were rendered speechless from his continuous snapping of his hips into yours, driving his length deeper and deeper into you. Your breasts bounced with each thrust he gave you, until he brought a hand up to grope at the flesh and tweak your sensitive nipples between his fingers.

“Feels so good around me, love. Like you were made for me, yeah?” He mumbled against your lips, his heart swelling with every little moan and whimper you released as he fucked you.

“Mhm,” you moaned, fingernails raking across his back, “I love it, I love you, fuck..”

The term of endearment went straight to his cock, motivating him to quicken his pace and feeling himself get closer and closer to his release. “Love you too, ahh, s-so much”

A pretty blush crept over his face, accompanied by a thin veil of sweat on his forehead from his relentless pounding. The small room was filled with a cacophony of mumbled I love you and so so good until that knot building in your stomach had reached its limit.

“‘m close, Gumi…” you whined, hands travelling to wind themselves around his dark locks above you.

“Cum with me, sweetheart,” he groaned back, feeling his balls tightened as soon as your walls clamped down around his length, the delicious sensation driving you both over the edge. He filled you up with his hot seed, your release mixing with his, finally becoming one after so many years apart.

And once it was all said and done, you lay there in the calmness of dawn for what felt like hours until your lover was taken by sleep once more. Until, you fled his presence, careful not to wake him; you cleaned yourself up and tossed a thin robe over your frame, placed a chaste kiss to his cheek, and entered your studio.

Taking your seat at your stool, eyes travelling from the forgotten canvas from yesterday to the depiction of that summer’s day all those years ago, smiling at the boy holding the poppy. You thanked the universe for sending your muse back to you.

© 2021 honeyspalette. do no repost my copy, modify, or repost my work <3

tags: @sunshinedragonofthewest @toallmyhusbandos @totallynotstorm @kodzucafe @peach-memoirs @teasimps

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[phantomato]

Per a reddit discussion, here’s one of my biannual reminders that most fic is short fic.

(Source)

Story time:

When I got into writing fic, I felt like I needed to write long, chaptered work to be taken seriously. I was coming from the position of a reader, mind—rec lists tend to feature longer fics, so I had been reading longer fics. When I read one-shots or shorter works, it was often because I loved an author enough to browse their profile, or I had found a fest focused on a pairing I liked.

I wanted to be a serious fic author. I still had hangups about what it meant to belong in fandom. I wrote a story, I set a goal of about 5k words per chapter, I wanted to write something long and get noticed like the longfic I’d read to get here—and I fell short. I hit almost 75k words, the no-man’s land of fic lengths, destined to be sorted out of lots of searches with 100k minimums. What a fucking bummer.

So I tried again with two more fics. I hit ~50k and ~70k, even shorter. I liked the stories I had written! I was very happy with the content, the narrative arcs of these fics, the characters I had put on the page, but the length was still middling. I took breaks, wrote some one-shots and a novella-length fic, and hopped back on the horse one more time.

Made of Clay hit exactly 100k. I did it, I proved that I was physically capable of it, and I called it fucking quits.

I love Clay. It’s one of the best stories I’ve written to date. It also occupied nearly all of my fandom time for three months. Is that more artistically satisfying than having written Ganymede, Uber, Bluebird, Beautiful Sleepyhead, and Routines in roughly the same amount of time? No, decidedly not. 100k vs 100k, I can’t say I would rather have one set of words versus the other, but I can say that my set of short fics are just as important to me as the longer one (which received more engagement from readers, by virtue of its length).

Fandom is built on short fic. Specifically, fandom is built on fic of less than 5k words. Just in case someone needs to hear it, because I needed to hear it about a year ago: writing fic does not need to look like epic-length stories over 100k words long. That doesn’t need to be the goal of an author, now or ever. Stories without chapters, stories without intricate plots, stories that are part of a scene or a really snappy bit of a dialogue or a beautiful kiss or a terribly ugly sex scene or whatever are what make up the foundation of fic. They’re the stories I hunt for on my tag deep-dives, the things I seek out because nothing is as wild and imaginative and unique as what I’ve found in fics of 20k, 5k, 1k words. Read it, write it, rec it.