#although i might be a bit slow in replying

[undressrehearsal]

a bite of luxury

part 2

summary: it's been a week since you and ellie's date. you weren't ignoring her - but you were also too afraid of what she might be. so when she shows up to your apartment, you have pretty mixed feelings

tags: sugarmommy!ellie, rich!ellie, vampire!ellie, lot of talk about blood, oral(r!receiving), fingering(r! receiving), afab reader, ellie's a bit stalker-y tbh, smallest bit of bloodplay (what do u expect), slightest bit of praise kink, this shit is filthy tbh

word count: ~9k

a/n: listen i'm sorry I work 50 hr weeks and i'm writing a book so it takes me FOREVER to write shit but i hope y'all like this one cause i love it. if you wanna be added to my tag list just lmk!

part 1

You hadn't talked to Ellie in nearly a week. 

It wasn’t that you were ignoring her. It was just that any time she texted you you could do nothing but stare at the letters for several minutes hoping they’d make sense before you finally shut your phone off. She had called you once, the day after your date, but you just let it ring in your hand until it finally fell silent, convincing yourself that it was only because you were hungover and didn’t feel like talking to anybody. (She, of course, left you a voicemail telling you how much she enjoyed your date and that Riley wanted to meet you.) 

You weren't ignoring her. 

You were just avoiding her. 

Which was different, right? 

That night, when Ellie came back into the sitting room with two glasses of water, she had found you standing by the mantle, looking for all the world like a frightened animal. When you had heard her coming, you had set the frame down as though it had burned you, putting it back into its spot on the mantle, face down. Perhaps it was better like that. If you had to look at the sepia face staring up at you and the very real, unchanged face smiling at you in the warmth of this house, you weren't sure how you'd react. 

You weren't sure what your face held, but whatever it was made Ellie's steps slow. She came to a stop several feet away, looking at you warily. “Everything okay?” 

You had only nodded and politely asked her to take you home. 

She didn’t argue, and you couldn’t decide if you preferred that over the alternative. She opened the car door for you, closing it gently once you were settled. You didn't say much on the drive home - your head was still swimming with wine and confusion and the heat still pooling between your legs. Ellie tried making conversation, asking you about your plans for the week and if you wanted to meet up again sometime, but your heart wasn’t in it; it was a million miles and two-hundred years away. You could only give her one-word replies, running your hands over the expensive leather seats to ground yourself. 

She walked you to the door of your apartment complex. You didn’t kiss her, only said goodnight and went inside, leaving her standing out in the cold. Although you weren’t sure if she could actually feel it. 

You weren’t sure what she was. 

The logical part of your brain tried to convince you that it wasn’t anything, that you had just been drunk and tired and way too turned on to think straight. You tried to tell yourself it hadn’t been Ellie in that picture - that it was an ancestor that looked disturbingly similar - that it was just a stage photo taken to look like it was from the 1800s - that you weren’t crazy. But some part of you - some primal instinct that prickled at your skin and raised the hair on the back of your neck - knew that you were full of shit and wouldn’t let you forget it. 

You knew what you saw. It was no trick of the light, no staged photo. Ellie had - impossibly, inexplicably - been at that house in 1816. 

You sat in the quiet of your apartment, only the light of the full moon and your laptop’s blue screen illuminating your bedroom. You couldn't even hear the normal traffic that blared from the street all hours of the night. The only thing you could hear - the only sound penetrating this deafening, suffocating silence - was your own heartbeat. 

You felt so stupid - crazy, really - but you typed the words anyway: What can live forever?

That wasn't entirely helpful. Google fed you an article about jellyfish - Turritopsis dohrnii, the “immortal jellyfish”. The only creature on Earth that was biologically immortal. You rubbed at your aching eyes - you hadn't been sleeping well - and tried again. 

Can humans live forever? 

That didn't really help either. Now you got articles about cryogenic freezing and uploading your consciousness into a computer - you were pretty sure the former hadn't even been a thing in the 1800s, and as for the latter, you definitely didn't think Ellie was a computer. A computer couldn’t kiss like that, couldn’t grip your hair and press promises into the hollow of your throat, cold fingers skimming over your skin-

You groaned, pressing your knuckles into your eyes. That kind of train of thought was exactly why it had become increasingly difficult to avoid Ellie. You couldn’t count the number of times in the past few days that your thumb had hovered over her name on your phone, your wired, sleep-deprived heart unable to resist a mystery. But this wasn’t some fucking Agatha Christie novel, and you definitely weren’t the main character. This was real life, and until you knew what Ellie was and what she could do - other than have eternal beauty, apparently - your instinct told you not to trust her. 

You felt insanely stupid - illogical and delusional and a million other synonyms - but the cheesy scene in that teenage-brain rot vampire movie came to mind: You’re pale white and ice cold. Maybe it wasn’t the most outlandish idea, when you really thought about it; it was no more outlandish than Ellie being at that house when it was built in 1816. Besides, maybe it added up: Her fingers had felt like ice on your cheek. She never blushed, not even after you had made out - a fact that had left you self-conscious before but would make a lot more sense. You couldn't deny that you had felt a strong, unnatural pull to her. And the metallic smell that seemed to cling to her beneath her perfume….

So, feeling like a cheap impersonator of Kristen Stewart, you typed in vampires. 

The page was still buffering, your shitty, cheap internet taking its sweet time as always, when there was a sharp knock on your apartment door. 

You jumped so hard your laptop slipped from the bed and fell to the floor with a sickening thud. You flinched, hoping it was just a broken screen you could live with. You got up, stepping around the fallen soldier, and left the blissful darkness of your bedroom, flicking the light on in your living room. But when you opened the front door, you wanted nothing more than to slam it shut again. 

Ellie stood in the dingy hallway, the worn leather jacket finally making an appearance over her shoulders. Her hair stood at odd ends, as though she had been tugging at it. Yet, even looking haggard in a torn jacket, she looked just as good as she had amongst the stars. 

And here you were, standing in your messy apartment in your favorite pajamas, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. 

Somehow, Ellie was the one that looked sheepish; she couldn't quite meet your eyes, scratching the back of her head and fidgeting with the hem of her jacket. Before your survival instincts could convince you to close the door, she said, in the softest voice imaginable, “Hi.” 

And you could no longer bring yourself to close the door in her adorable fucking face.

When you didn't respond, Ellie nodded, seemingly to herself, rocking on her heels awkwardly. She spoke to her shoes when she said, “Sorry, I know this is probably really fucking weird.” 

“That's an understatement,” you said, surprising yourself with a laugh. You almost felt bad when she flinched.

Frankly, you probably should have closed the door and locked it behind you. You had only gone on one date with Ellie, and she was suddenly showing up to your apartment in the middle of the night. You had practically ghosted her for several days now, and for some reason she had come crawling back to you like a dog. Yeah, it was beyond weird - creepy, almost. And yet…. 

You pulled the blanket tighter around you to try to hide your pajamas - an oversized t-shirt from some anime you hadn't watched in years and a pair of shorts so short you couldn't possibly wear them anywhere other than your own room. You leaned against the doorframe, trying your damnedest to look nonchalant - to look like your heart wasn't trying to escape your chest - and said, “What are you doing here?” 

Ellie shifted, fidgeting, biting her lip so hard it looked like she might draw blood (could she bleed?). “You just…. After our date, you seemed really upset and I've been worried about you.” She spoke in a rush, as though the words were racing to leave her tongue. “I-I don't know if it's something I did, but if it is - I want to make it up to you. Whatever it is, I'm sorry. I-” She hesitated, finally looking up at you through her lashes. “And, honestly, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you.” 

Your heart did some kind of embarrassing acrobatic routine at her words. You tried to keep your voice steady, as though your cheeks weren't obviously burning: “You didn't do anything. I just….” 

I saw a picture of you looking just as young and beautiful in 1816 and freaked out and honestly I don't know what you are or if you're dangerous and I'm scared to find out but I also can't deny that I haven't stopped thinking about you either. 

Yeah, you couldn't say that. 

Instead, you said, like a coward,, “I've just been busy, honestly.” 

Tension drained from Ellie, her jaw visibly unclenching, that cute pinch between her brows smoothing. A relieved smile tugged at her lips. 

“Okay,” she said, a little too breathlessly. She cleared her throat and tried again: “Okay. That's-That's good. Um….” She looked around, taking in your dim apartment behind you before her eyes landed on you again. She noticed, seemingly for the first time, that you were in your pajamas. An amused - almost fond - smile lit up her eyes. “You look a little busy right now. Do you… I can text you later, maybe? I'd love to go on another date. If you want to.” 

You sized her up, taking in the infamous jacket and the black t-shirt underneath. She blended in surprisingly well with your shabby apartment complex - down to the worn out converse. You shouldn't have invited her in. After everything, you'd be stupid to invite her into your apartment. You were just talking about how she might be dangerous, how you couldn't trust her…. 

So, you didn't invite her inside. You simply said, “I was actually just about to turn on a movie,” and walked away. You left the door open, a silent expectation for her to follow you inside. Without looking back, you said, “Do you want anything to drink?” 

When Ellie didn't respond, you turned back to find her still standing right outside the door. Her eyes were wide, looking like a deer watching a car barrel towards it, unable to move. She rocked back on her heels, blowing an awkward breath through pursed lips. “Can I, um- Can I come in?” 

You slowly turned to her, setting down the empty cup you had picked up. Taking a cautious step toward her, you said, “What do you mean?” 

Ellie laughed that rough, charming laugh, but it rang hollow. It would have been imperceptible to anyone who wasn't already looking for red flags. “I mean, it's rude to come in uninvited. I've never been to your place before, I don't want to - you know, overstep, I guess.” 

You squinted at her, alarm bells blaring in your ears. “You're not overstepping anything.” 

She pressed her lips together, impatience creeping into her shoulders. “So… Can I come in?” 

“Can you?” 

Ellie blinked at you. “What?” 

You took several steps towards her, stopping just inside the doorway - just where she couldn't reach you. There was some kind of panic behind her eyes, like a child that had been caught red-handed. Setting your shoulders, you repeated, “Can you?” 

She stumbled over her words, syllables tripping over her tongue: “I- it's rude to just barge into somebody's home-” 

“And I'm telling you it's not rude,” you interrupted. You held a hand out to her, careful to keep your fingers right inside the doorway. “So why can't you come in?” 

Ellie looked at your outstretched hand, her eyes wide and desperate. She reached out to you before drawing her hand back sharply, as though she had been burned. A low growl rose from her throat, and she snapped, “I just can't, okay?” 

Your eyebrows rose, your heart pounding against your ribcage. You should have been afraid - you were so close to the truth you could taste it - but you couldn't find the fear inside yourself. Instead, there was only the warm touch of relief. 

You took another step towards her, still carefully inside the doorway. You were so close you could smell that warm, metallic scent that clung to her. Knowing what it might be, it should have disgusted you; instead, you were buzzing with an overwhelming curiosity. A restlessness burned in your fingertips - inexplicably, you wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her. You wanted to feel the burn of her cold fingers against you. 

“Tell me what you are,” you murmured, unwilling to speak any louder for fear that you would shatter the barrier between you - the barrier protecting you.

“Hopefully more than a first date,” Ellie said, that hollow laugh trying to cut through the tension. When you only looked at her, she faltered, that mask cracking just a little more. Ellie's jaw worked, the muscle flexing. She said, slowly now, as though you were a frightened animal, “I'm just Ellie. I'm here because I missed you. I really want to come in and just watch a movie with you. Can I please come in?” A desperate whine tinted her words, sending an embarrassing flush to your cheeks. 

You grit your teeth, lifting your chin stubbornly. “I found that picture. The one of the house - the one dated back to 1816 when it was built. You were there.” If she had any, you imagined the blood would've drained from Ellie's face. “How were you there? How old are you, really? What are you?”

Ellie looked like she wanted to argue - her lips curled back in a snarl, her fists clenched at her sides. You should have been afraid - you should have been terrified - but really you were just craving the truth. 

Finally, she sighed, her shoulders dropping as all the fight seemed to leave her body at once. She scrubbed a hand across her face and said, “Look, nobody's ever…. Nobody's ever asked me that before. Nobody… nobody cared before. Nobody looked. The people I've met on Seeking only wanted sex and money - that's what I'm good at. But you….” She paused, lips opening and closing hesitantly. “I don't know why, but you're different. You obviously know something isn't normal here. So I'd really, really like to talk.” 

You hesitated, crossing your arms. “If I let you in here, how do I know you won't just… try to shut me up.” You couldn't phrase it any other way. 

“I'm not going to hurt you,” she said. She brought her hands up, fingers seeming to press at some invisible barrier that separated you. “Besides,” she added with a short, wicked flash of teeth (you had never noticed just how sharp her canines really were), “I'm not particularly worried about you spreading anything. Nobody would actually believe you.” 

You swallowed, her words sending a dangerous chill down your spine. She was right, of course. Who would believe somebody who started spreading rumors that some rich woman they met on a dating website was a bloodthirsty monster? 

Every ounce of your self-preservation instincts told you to close the door, to ignore the inhuman pull you felt towards her. It screamed at you that this was an awful idea that could only end in heartbreak, that you'd be far safer if you simply never spoke to this woman again. It was the natural instinct of prey. 

And yet, like an idiot, you said, “Fine. You can come in.” 

With the spell broken, Ellie stepped through the doorway with a relieved sigh. You took a hasty step back to let her through, but it didn't much matter. By coming through, she stepped right into your personal space, so close that you could feel her breath on your cheeks. It brought a rush of memories from the night at her house - you could practically feel the hard bookcase against your back, her lips pressing against your pulse, so shockingly hot compared to the rest of her. 

You muttered an apology - unsure just what you were apologizing for - and stepped aside. Gesturing to your living room, you said, “Make yourself comfortable,” before retreating to the kitchen. 

Truthfully, it wasn’t much of a retreat. Your apartment was small, no larger than Ellie’s bedroom, probably (you tried very hard to not think about Ellie’s bedroom). The sink was only a few extra steps away from your couch, but the shabby carpet changed abruptly into tile, so it was technically a different room. 

When you went to ask her again if she wanted anything to drink, your voice died in your throat. Does she drink? That thought alone caused your brain to short-circuit, some survival instinct forcing you to face reality and change the question to Does she drink water? 

You decided not to ask, instead filling up two glasses of water before squaring your shoulders, taking a deep breath, and going back into the living room. It was small, only enough space for a single sofa that had been gifted to you, a coffee table, a TV stand that you had found at a second-hand shop, and a small TV that you bought off of Facebook marketplace. It wasn’t much, but it was cozy. You had set up string lights on the ceiling, and you plugged them in before turning off the blaring overhead light, casting the room in a warm, hazy glow. 

Ellie had taken a seat on the sofa, hands fiddling absently in her lap. You set the glasses down on the coffee table before sitting on the opposite end of the sofa, as far away as you physically could. You pulled your legs up so they acted as a barrier between you. 

After several long, unbearably silent moments, Ellie blew out a breath, laughing awkwardly. She didn't look at you when she said, “You probably have questions.”

“No shit, I have questions.” It came out sharper than you intended, and you just hoped she couldn't bleed. “My first one being why the hell did you show up to my apartment in the middle of the night?” 

Ellie winced; you almost felt bad about it. “To be fair, it's only seven.” When you only scowled at her, she hastily continued, “I told you. I missed you. I… I was worried about you.” 

“Why?” you said, unable to prevent your voice from softening. “We only went on one date.” 

Ellie shrugged, looking as though she'd be blushing if she could. Her voice was small when she said, “I just… really like you, I guess.” 

And you decided to leave it at that. 

“What are you?” you asked instead.

She looked at you then, a twinkle in her eye. “I think you know that already.” 

“I want to hear you say it.” 

Ellie held your gaze; you felt as though you were paralyzed, your body frozen under the watchful eyes of a predator. “I have a lot of names. Nosferatu. Hominus Nocturna. Upyr. Leech. Blood breed.” Her teeth - fangs - flashed when she smiled. “Vampire. Pick your favorite.” 

You weren’t surprised - you had known, after all. But your hands shook where they rested on your knees, your palms suddenly sticky with sweat. Your heart hammered against your ribs and you wondered if she could hear it. You weren’t surprised, your body just hadn't gotten the memo. 

You nodded and cleared your throat. You reached for the glass just to have something to do with your hands. The cold water was a blissful distraction, giving you a moment of reprieve. When you set it back down, you hoped she didn’t see the way your fingers trembled. 

When you found your tongue again, you said, “What about the pictures?” When Ellie only furrowed her brow and cocked her head, you continued, “On your profile. And all the pictures you sent me. All the myths say that… vampires,” you choked on the word, “don’t show up in pictures. And mirrors,” you added, suddenly remembering the mirror in her foyer. You left the question hanging in the air, a tangible thing, until Ellie reached out to grab it. 

“That myth was written centuries ago,” she said, amusement tinting her words. “Silver… silver’s basically my kryptonite, right? That one’s true. Mirrors used to be made with it, which is why it wouldn’t show a reflection. But now they’re mostly made of aluminum, I think - like the one you saw at my house. Photos are the same idea,” she continued, taking out her phone as though to demonstrate. She turned the camera on, turning it around so you could see her image on the screen. “Film cameras were made with silver too - a lot of film cameras still are. But for the most part, there’s none in phone cameras. I can send you all the selfies you want.” Her image in the camera grinned that devastatingly crooked grin before she clicked the phone off again, tucking it back into her pocket. 

Her mini history lesson left your head spinning. You shook it off and said, “Did you ask me out just to…?” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish that sentence. 

Elllie’s eyes widened in alarm. She turned her entire body to you, and you suddenly wanted to shrink away from her intense stare. Her words rushed past her lips, fighting to get out first: “No! Holy shit, no - it’s not like that, I swear. I asked you out because I liked you, okay?” 

You couldn’t stop the stupid smile that pulled at your lips. Cocking a brow, you teased, “Past tense?” 

Ellie fumbled for a moment, her lips opening and closing with no sound, before she finally huffed out an incredulous laugh, looking up at you from under her lashes. “I’m here, aren’t I?” 

You ignored the warmth that spread in your chest. Clearing your throat, you said, “Do you… Do you turn people?” 

“I haven’t for a long time.” 

You weren’t sure if that brought you any comfort. 

You didn’t want to ask, but you needed to know: “How many… humans have you killed?” 

Ellie didn’t look at you when she said, “You don’t want to know the answer to that.” She paused before adding, “But if it’s any comfort, I haven’t done that in a long time either.” 

“So if you don’t turn people and you don’t kill them, what do you eat?” You regretted the question as soon as you asked it. 

“You can… feed on somebody without turning them. It takes practice to know how much to drink without hurting them. And I’ve had a lot of practice.” 

You decided to leave it at that. 

“If you’re not trying to… you know, feed… on me…,” the words felt impossibly big in your mouth, “then can you turn it off?” 

Ellie’s brow furrowed again. “Turn what off?” 

“You know, the,” you waved a hand over yourself, as if encompassing your entire being, “the weird, vampire allure you have. The intense… draw I feel when I’m near you.” 

When you looked up at her, Ellie had that playful spark in her eye again, her lips quirking. She was looking at you like you were the most interesting thing she had ever seen, something new and entrancing. “That’s a myth,” she murmured.

The soft, rough tone in her voice caused a shiver to race down your spine. You asked, dumbly, “What?” 

Ellie’s smile only widened. “There’s no weird, vampire allure. There’s nothing supernatural about that. That’s just how much you like me.” 

Your cheeks flushed, your skin aflame with something akin to embarrassment, but it was slightly softer, more pleasant. You nodded, and could only bring your lips to say, weakly, “Okay.”

But Ellie didn't seem keen on dropping it. She turned to face you fully, drawing her legs up onto the couch; it was small enough that you could feel her pants on your shin, the rough press of denim against your bare skin. “Hell no, you don't just get to brush past that. You really-” She licked her lips and you tried not to trace the path of her tongue with your eyes. 

She didn't have to finish the question. Besides, there'd be no point in hiding it. Maybe you didn't even want to.

You looked up at her, her intense expression making you want to sink into the floor. You made yourself nod, your tongue refusing to hold onto any words to describe it. 

Ellie leaned in closer, her eyes never leaving yours. You felt so incredibly small under her gaze. Something akin to hunger flashed in her eyes, the eagerness of a snake right before it strikes, yet the icy feeling of fear didn't run through your blood. No, something far warmer flooded your veins. 

Her voice dropping to a murmur, Ellie said, “Got any more questions, sweetheart?” 

You almost didn't ask. You shouldn't, really. It'd be like tempting fate, placing your head right into its enticing maw. But your curiosity tugged at you, impossible to ignore or deny, so you said, “Can I see them?”

You didn't want to elaborate - you didn't even have to. Ellie pulled her legs under her so she could lean closer, close enough for you to smell that sweetly metallic scent that made your head spin. Still, she gave you enough space to move away as she parted her lips, watching you carefully.

Her fangs glistened in the low light, the bulbs above you glinting off the pearly white surface. You weren't sure how you didn’t notice them before. You didn't want to say they were obvious, but they were definitely hard to miss. They extended just below her regular teeth, longer than a canine should have been, the tip wickedly sharp. 

You reached a hand out subconsciously, stopping just a few inches from her face. Your fingers curled, your fight or flight instincts warring with that same stubborn curiosity that you couldn’t seem to tamp down. You were not about to literally put your hand in the bear's mouth - but then Ellie met your eyes with a hunger that burned your cheeks, her still-parted lips curling up in amusement, and nodded. 

You felt her breath against your skin, hot and wet, as you moved closer, pressing just the tip of your finger against the point of a fang. 

You immediately drew your hand back, wincing at the sudden sting. The slightest touch had pricked your skin, the point deadly sharp. 

“Shit,” you hissed, watching as a bead of blood bloomed thick and red, tracing a line down your finger. You cursed again, popping the digit into your mouth in an attempt to stop the bleeding, the taste of metal coating your tongue. Pulling your finger from your mouth, you grimaced apologetically up at Ellie and said, laughing awkwardly, “Fuck, those things are sharp-” 

You didn’t get to finish your sentence; you hardly even had time to register the sudden, intense hunger etched on every line of Ellie's face. Her cold fingers wrapped around your wrist, her grip just shy of painful. Her other hand came up to grip your jaw, tilting your face up to kiss you. 

It wasn't like what it had been at her house all those nights ago. There, in the low light of her sitting room, her kiss had been warm and slow, a gentle guidance that left you relaxed and pleasantly lightheaded, like the wine that had still blurred the edges of your vision. It had been a kiss that was really more of a question, one you hadn’t yet had the answer to. 

The way Ellie kissed you now felt like a demand. She leaned over you, releasing your wrist to brace herself on the armrest behind your shoulder, her body pressed in a cold line against yours, making your skin prickle with goosebumps. She wedged her knee between yours, the rough denim of her jeans scratching your bare thighs, and an involuntary shudder wracked through your body. Using the hand against your jaw, Ellie tilted your chin just right to press in harder, pressing her tongue against the seam of your lips. You gasped, parting your lips, a heady warmth pooling between your legs. You felt Ellie's tongue press into you in search of metal- 

It was too fast for you to process, but suddenly Ellie was back on the other side of the couch, gasping for air she didn't need. She had a hand over her mouth, refusing to look at you. 

“Fuck,” she cursed, muffled by her fingers. Her other hand clutched at the cushion beneath her, as though it were a restraint. “Shit, I'm sorry. That was totally - I shouldn't have - fuck.”

Your brain was dizzy with whiplash, your chest still fighting to regain the breath she had stolen from you. You were suddenly far too warm, missing the chill of her body against yours. Your hands that had somehow ended up fisted in the cushions ached when you released them; a small splotch of blood stained the fabric from your injured finger, staining your skin. 

Past the haze in your brain and the warmth that was impossible to ignore between your legs, you could only make your mouth say, “What the fuck, Ellie?” 

It was like you had kicked a dog. Ellie - with her razor sharp teeth and predatory instincts - hung her head in shame, squeezing her eyes closed. She scrubbed a hand over her face and moved to stand, saying, “I'm so fucking sorry, I'll leave-” 

You reached out to grab her wrist, the cold biting into your fingers. For a moment it seemed like she was frozen, caught in ice, staring down at where your skin met hers. You could feel a pulse pounding in your fingers and you knew it wasn't hers. 

“Why the fuck,” you said before your own traitorous heart gave out on you, “did you stop?” 

You saw the question in Ellie’s eyes before she said it. You couldn't hear her ask it - if you did, the logical part of your brain might catch up to you and stop you. You tugged on her wrist, wrapping your other hand around the back of her neck to pull her back into you. 

The logical part of you - the part that fought to keep you alive - didn't matter right now. 

Ellie’s gasp was muffled as you pulled her down to kiss her again, grunting when she landed clumsily on top of you. There was a moment where you both froze, your lips locked, and you mentally prepared yourself for the awkwardness that would surely follow. 

Yet, surprisingly, it never came. Instead, Ellie giggled into your mouth and the taste of it was like the sweetest drug, coating your throat and giving you a euphoric high. She moved the arm you were still holding, twisting her wrist so she could slide her hand into yours, locking your fingers. Her other hand braced against the couch by your hip, supporting herself as she finally pulled away from you. She didn’t go far; you could see each speck of green and brown and gold in her eyes, could count her freckles like you had counted the stars as a child. 

Ellie was laughing, but there was no malice behind it. It was warm, far too warm for the silence that lived within her ribcage. You wondered if it would taste like the wine she had bought you - like wood and fire on your tongue, a sultry spice that was just a little out of your tax bracket. 

“What are you doing?” Ellie murmured, her breath catching in your lashes. 

You shrugged, feeling exposed under her intense gaze, sure she could hear the tremble in your breath. You shifted, leaning back on your elbows and looking up at her through your lashes. You tried - and failed - to sound nonchalant when you said, “We never finished what we started at your house.” 

Ellie furrowed her brow and you had the strongest urge to reach up and smooth it out. Confusion was a cute look on her. “Are you sure?” she said, looking at you like you might run away any moment. “I mean-“ 

You placed your finger on her bottom lip, her words coming to a stuttering stop. There was still blood smeared on your skin, a new bloom pooling from the wound, tracing its slow path down to your knuckle. Ellie froze, her trembling lips the only part that seemed capable of movement. You felt like you’d choke on your own held breath.

Ellie’s eyes were eclipsed, a barely contained hunger hiding in wait there. You had never before felt so much like watched prey, like a mouse taunting a cat, fascinated by its sharp teeth. Her voice was a low murmur, a heat you could feel against your skin and in your chest: “You’re playing a dangerous game, you know.” 

You hummed, tilting your head and dipping the tip of your finger between her parted lips. You felt her shudder, her mouth dropping open, and a flush crept up your neck, tingling in each of your fingertips. Ellie’s eyelids fluttered; she gripped your hand so tight it ached in your wrist. She was shaking under your hands, desperately trying to hold herself together even as she was coming apart at the seams. 

You waited until she opened her eyes, looking at you for some kind of relief. You pressed your finger to her tongue lightly, just enough for her to taste the fresh blood there, and said, “The best games always are.” 

That must have been all the confirmation Ellie needed. She wrapped her lips around your finger, her tongue warm and wet against your skin. You felt her moan, the purr of it against your hand, the vibration of it tracing a hot finger down your chest, settling low in your stomach. When she sucked, her throat bobbing, you felt it like electricity, as though her tongue were elsewhere. 

Ellie whined when you pulled your hand back, leaving a smear of blood on her bottom lip. Her eyes were half-lidded, her breath hard and fast against your cheeks, and you couldn't stop yourself from grabbing her hair and pulling her back into you. 

Her mouth tasted of metal - of you, your life. It should have been repulsive, tasting the thing that rushed beneath your skin on somebody's tongue, but it only sent a warm shudder through your body, pooling low in your stomach. Her fingers pressed into the dip at your hip, digging in enough to bruise. Ellie groaned when you pressed your tongue between her lips, chasing the taste of your own lifeblood. 

“Fuck, you taste good,” she moaned against your lips. She pressed you back against the cushions, slotting her thigh between your legs- 

You pulled back, panting. You tried to speak - you had something to say, but you couldn't quite remember it as you met Ellie's hungry eyes. She had you pinned, her thigh pressing just too lightly where you wanted her most, and every coherent thought you could have had dissolved into the air. 

“I, um,” you started, words failing you. Ellie tilted her head with a smug smirk, but something akin to concern flashed in her eyes, so you tried again. “I was just thinking - Wouldn't you rather do this somewhere… nicer?” You winced, unsure how else to word it. Your small, shabby apartment was definitely a step - several dozen steps - down from her fucking Victorian mansion. 

Ellie paused, looking around at the small space before you. Her eyes lingered on the small TV, a dying plant in the corner, the pictures of your family and friends hanging on the walls. She took it in slowly, as though there were more to consider than a living room the size of her closet, before finally looking back down at you. 

Shrugging, she said, “I think it's nice,” and leaned down to kiss you again. 

Without any further protest, you tangled your fingers in Ellie's hair, using the leverage to pull her closer. When she gasped at the sting of it, you couldn't stop the buck of your hips, grinding down against her thigh, whimpering at the friction of denim between your legs. Ellie pressed her thigh further into you, smiling against your lips when you moaned; you could feel each jolt of electricity through the thin fabric of your shorts. 

Ellie hummed, tracing her tongue in a hot line down your jaw. She pressed a hard kiss to the hinge of your jaw and murmured, voice rough in your ear, “I need to know how else you taste.” 

You groaned, arching up into her. You felt, with a cold realization, her teeth against your skin, her fangs pressing at the soft swell of your throat. She didn’t press in hard enough to harm you - hard enough to feed on you - but just hard enough for you to feel the sting of it. You tilted your head back, granting her better access, and felt her grin against you, a short huff of laughter in your ear. 

“God, it’s like you want me to.” Her voice was the purr of a cat playing with its food. She released her vice grip on your hip, instead gliding her hand over your stomach, fingers dipping under the hem of your shirt. You cursed, shivering from more than just her cold skin on yours. You wanted to swallow her accompanying moan. “It’d be so easy just to sink my teeth in right,” she pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your pulse, and you were sure she could feel it jump beneath her lips, “here.” 

Ellie’s hand glided up your stomach, rucking up your shirt. Goosebumps raised across your skin, exposed to the chilly air of your apartment. She was right - some reckless, animalistic part of you wanted to know what it’d feel like. Some part of you wanted her to sink her teeth into you and take whatever she wanted.

”Can I?” Ellie murmured, breaking you from your thoughts. She had your shirt fisted in her hand, looking at you with raw want, and it made your head spin. You only lifted your arms in response, helping her tug your shirt over your head. 

You cursed, shielding your body, a shiver racking through your shoulders. “Fuck, it’s cold,” you laughed, wrinkling your nose. “You’re not exactly helping either. You’re like a fucking-“ 

You almost said vampire and bit your tongue around another mindless laugh. 

Ellie leaned back to take you in, her eyes raking over your body; you felt strangely like you were exposed beneath a magnifying glass. She gently pulled your hands away from your body, raising them above your head so she could see you, bare and vulnerable before her. She grasped your wrists in one hand, pinning them to the armrest above your head. She traced the other hand across your chest, a trail of goosebumps following her touch. 

“This is my favorite part, you know.” She still refused to speak any louder than a murmur, a low growl, as though to speak any loud would break whatever spell she had over you. You groaned when cold fingers skated over your nipple, pulling a smile to her lips. “Seeing someone squirming under me. Seeing their want, feeling it written across their body.” She leaned down over you, her lips barely brushing against yours, and whispered, “I can hear the pounding of your heart.” She pinched your nipple between her fingers, pulling a choked gasp from your chest. “I can hear it skip every time I touch you.” 

You tried to lift your head, wanting desperately to catch her lips, but she was too fast. She released your wrists, but you left them where they were, not quite registering the sudden freedom because her tongue - so hot compared to the rest of her - licked a slow line over your nipple, her fingers still toying with the other. Your whole body jolted, your chest lifting to meet her waiting mouth, and you felt her smile against your skin. 

Lifting her head, Ellie gave your nipple a last teasing pinch before letting her hand glide down your body. You whimpered when her fingers dipped just below your waistband and you couldn't even bring yourself to be embarrassed about it, because she was looking at you again with those dark, hungry eyes and you suddenly wanted nothing more than to be devoured. Ellie ran her hand over your waistband, fingers coming to grip your hip so tightly you were sure you’d have bruises there in the morning, branded with her fingerprints. 

She cursed, fingers tightening around your hips, pulling at you impatiently. “Fuck, come here.” 

Ellie guided you to sit up, maneuvering you so you were sitting straight, your feet planted firmly on the floor. She crawled off the couch, kneeling on the floor before you, her hands gently but firmly coaxing your knees apart. Pressing a hand to your chest, Ellie pushed you back to relax against the cushions before she settled on the floor between your legs. Your heart was pounding against your rib cage, and it made you dizzy knowing that she could hear it like music. 

Humming, Ellie leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh, smiling when you shivered. Your brain was distracted by the heat in your stomach, so you almost didn’t realize she was talking again: “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Taking you home that night.” She pressed another kiss to your feverish skin, lips tracing higher up your thigh, her teeth grazing your skin enough to sting. “I can’t stop thinking about how you smelled - sinfully sweet. How you sounded, the flutter of your heart when I kissed you. The prettiest sounds spilled from your lips when I kissed your neck - you were practically begging me to bite you.” 

You gasped when she sank her teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh. She didn’t break your skin - didn’t drink from you - but when she pulled back you could see the red welt she had left behind. You hoped it would bruise by morning. 

“Stop talking,” you whined, reaching out to twist your fingers in her hair. She huffed a laugh against your skin when you tugged. “God, I didn’t know you’d be such a tease when I matched with you.” 

In response, Ellie brought a hand up to press her palm right between your legs. You gasped, the chill of her fingers through your thin shorts like a shot of electricity through you. Smiling, Elle grinded her palm against you, right where the fabric was the wettest. You had to bite your lip to stifle a moan. 

“I like to take my time,” Ellie said, raising an eyebrow at you. “I want to watch you come apart for me. And I will take,” she continued, pressing harder against you until you saw stars, “however long I want.” 

You cursed when she removed her hand, quickly replacing it with her mouth. Ellie pressed a kiss to the crease of your thigh, her tongue warm against the exposed skin. When you pulled at her hair, you could feel the vibration of her moans. She took the waistband of your shorts between her teeth, letting it snap back against your skin and chuckling when you jumped. 

“You smell so fucking good,” she said, voice muffled as she pressed a kiss right where you wanted her most. You tried to buck up into her, to chase the feeling of her mouth and her teeth, but she dug her fingers into the dip of your hipbones and held you in place. She breathed you in, and you could feel her warm breath fanning over you. Ellie groaned, so low it was nearly a growl, and said, “Fuck, I need to taste you.”

The only word you could make your mindless mouth say was Please as you lifted your hips, hastily helping Ellie shove your shorts and underwear down your legs. You had never before felt the rough fabric of your couch against your bare ass and you frankly weren’t sure how you felt about it, but that thought was promptly shoved from your mind because Ellie was hooking her arms under your legs, tugging you closer so your hips were right at the edge of the couch. You let your head fall back when she pressed a kiss to your pussy, just the barest brush of her lips. 

“Look at me,” Ellie said, her nails digging into your thighs. You lifted your head to look down at her, confused, and the sight of her kneeling between your legs made your stomach do an embarrassing flip. Your legs tried to close on instinct against the new wave of warmth between them, but Ellie’s hands hooked under your thighs kept them apart. 

Ellie looked up at you through her lashes, on her knees before you. Her eyes were impossibly dark, the green appearing nearly black. Her plush, pink lips were parted, short huffs of breath fanning against you - you couldn’t look away from those lips, imaging all the impossible things she could do to you. 

“Keep your eyes on me,” she murmured, holding your gaze - you couldn’t even think about looking away. “If you look away, I’ll stop. Understand?” She waited until you finally nodded - nothing more than a short jerk of your head - before she smiled. You barely heard her quiet “Good girl” before she pressed forward and licked a slow, hot line over you. 

Instinct wanted to let your head fall back again but, remembering her threat, you forced yourself to keep your eyes trained on Ellie, bearing witness to how she unraveled you. She held your hot gaze as she drew slow, torturous circles around your clit with her tongue, just barely brushing against where you needed her most. 

An embarrassing whine pulled at your throat as you tried desperately to press down against her mouth, but Ellie’s hands held you firmly in place. The only thing you could do was twist your fingers in her hair, tugging uselessly as you watched her take her goddamn time. She didn’t lie - she was going to take exactly as long as she wanted. 

“Oh, fuck.” You couldn't control the breathy moans spilling from your mouth when Ellie pressed the flat of her tongue against your pussy, licking a slow stripe up to your aching clit. Your fingers tightened in her hair, and you felt the vibration of her moan like a shot of electricity. Forgetting her demand entirely, you let your eyes flutter shut, your head falling back against the cushions. 

You whimpered pathetically when Ellie pulled away, the sudden loss of her mouth like a tangible ache. You raised your head, a complaint already on your tongue, but it died behind your teeth. Ellie looked up at you through her lashes, her hair slicked back from her forehead, and those perfectly parted lips shined wetly - slick with you. She untangled one hand from around your thigh, choosing instead to slide her fingers over your pussy. 

“Eyes on me, baby,” she said, and pressed two fingers inside you. 

You cursed, a high pitched moan hanging in the air before you. Your eyes wanted to roll back, but you blinked hard, forcing them to stay trained on Ellie. You couldn't bear the thought of her stopping again. 

Green eyes looked up at you from between your legs, shining dangerously. Pressing back in, she flicked her tongue over your clit before taking it into her mouth, your hips bucking when she sucked. You hooked your legs over her shoulders in a desperate attempt to pull her closer, your heels digging into her back; you used your grip on her hair to guide her exactly where you needed her, watching her eyes flutter as she groaned against you. 

Ellie curled her fingers inside you, rubbing circles over that soft spot that made you see stars. In some distant, hysteric part of your mind, you thought about how you were definitely being loud enough for your neighbors to hear you through your paper-thin walls, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care because she was pressing her tongue against your clit, her fingers inside of you moving to the same intoxicating beat. 

An overwhelming warmth was building up in your stomach, a heat that you were desperate to hang on to. You gripped Ellie’s hair, afraid she would pull away, because you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back, fluttering shut against the wave that crashed into you. She must have been feeling merciful, because she didn’t even slow when you let your head drop back, breathy moans just dripping from your lips like honey, slow and thick and impossibly sweet. You couldn’t think of anything past Ellie’s mouth and tongue and fingers, every sense you had honing in on the heat of her lips. You arched into her when you came, hips bucking against her mouth, chasing a high that would be all too easy to get addicted to. 

Ellie worked you through it, tracing gentle circles over your clit and drawing the sweetest whimpers from your lips. She didn’t stop until your vice grip on her hair finally released, your hips stilling as you slumped back against the cushions. She finally pulled away, leaning back against her heels, and when you looked down at her you nearly whimpered at the sight. Her hair was sticking up at odd angles from your incessant tugging, her lips swollen and shining. She licked her lips and you felt like you might die. 

“Fuck,” was all you could say, laughing weakly. You felt spent, your chest aching from the breath you couldn’t quite catch. 

Ellie hummed, tilting her head, that infuriating smirk back on her lips. She pushed herself up onto her knees, one hand snaking its way to your hip, and you realized the fingers on her other hand were still inside you. She held your gaze, raising her eyebrows as though looking for permission, before she slowly slid her fingers out of you, pausing for one maddening moment, before pressing them roughly back into you. 

“Fuck,” you said again, your back arching into her. Your fingers twisted in the cushions under you as though you needed something to hold onto. 

“God, look at you,” she murmured, pumping her fingers into you, hard and slow, pressing into the intoxicating spot inside you. “So fucking pretty. Your body’s practically begging for me.” 

Your mouth dropped open when her thumb found your clit, sliding over it in the same delicious rhythm of her fingers. You whimpered, body jolting when she leaned up just enough to take your nipple into her mouth, eyes crossing when she slammed into you harder. 

It didn’t take long for you to come again, your orgasm slamming into you with such force that sparks flashed in your eyes. You reached out to grip Ellie’s shoulder, nails digging into her skin as though to keep yourself grounded. You thought you cried her name, but you couldn’t be sure. 

She didn’t stop until you were twitching from the overstimulation, whimpering beneath her. Ellie released your nipple, pressing a gentle kiss to your breastbone as she slowly slid her fingers out of you. You clenched around the sudden emptiness, missing her fingers even though your pussy ached, overstimulated and spent. 

Ellie leaned back to look up at you, waiting until you met her blurry eyes before she slipped her fingers past her lips, sucking the digits into her mouth. Her eyes fluttered, tongue gathering every last drop of you. 

You groaned, watching as she slid her fingers slowly from her lips, before you grabbed her face and pulled her up into a kiss. You pressed your tongue past her lips, moaning at the sharp taste of you on her tongue. 

Ellie was laughing when she pulled away, taking your face in her hands. She looked up at you, those green eyes shining so brightly you felt like you had to look away. You held her gaze anyway, unwilling to look away from the sun. You weren’t sure what it meant - what any of this meant, really. You had let this strange girl into your apartment, knowing exactly what she was, and had let her unravel you on your gifted couch. You had gone on one date, and instead of finding somebody else to take home to her ridiculous Victorian home, she had sought you out. 

Honestly, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, she had said. 

You weren’t sure what any of it meant. But, honestly, you couldn’t bring yourself to care right now. 

“For the record,” Ellie said, pausing to press another long kiss to your lips; when she pulled away, she didn’t go far, her lips moving against yours, “that wasn’t any weird vampire allure either.” 

@macaroni676 @ellstronaut @elliewilliamsmiller0 @elliescoolerwife @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @peekayurple @liliflowers-blog @filtered-sunlight @hobbybound @kirammanss @elliespookie @starsfortaylor @ripelyswife @autisticintr0vert @g3latin @sunflarie @williamellieslilho @kl1q @livvieloveswomen

[dancingbirdie]

Okay so on Astarion, I was reading this fic about him not knowing Tavs true intentions with him and it bothering Astarion a lot, so what if he goes to some mage or magic user and asks them to show Tavs true intentions to him, when he does the vision he sees is just... being snuggled. It's Tav on top of him and the both of you are falling asleep, his hands are under your shirt softly petting your skin as your sleepy self is contently snuggled up to him. I just start crying about him finding out that Tavs DASTARDLY and EVIL plan with him, their greatest desire from him... is to simply be held. 🥺

Hi @goblin-creatcher! Thank you so much for this BEAUTIFUL prompt. I, uhh, kind of took it and went a million miles an hour with it. This is honestly one of my favorite things I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it as well! xoxoxo

Something Imagined / Something Real

Word Count: 3.9K

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Warnings/Tags: Brief but detailed description of rough consensual sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst

Suggested Song Pairing: Slow Dancing in A Burning Room (Stripped) - cover by ST LUNA

Summary: Astarion has been suspicious of Tav’s true intentions toward him. He persuades Gale to cast a spell and reveal her motivations. ANGST and FLUFF ensue. A rewriting of Astarion’s confession scene from Act 2.

The sun had just begun to set on the campsite when Astarion decided to put his plan into action. He had waited until Tav departed with some of the other party members before making his way over to the wizard. Gale was too busy reassembling the bookshelf inside his tent to notice Astarion’s approach. It wasn’t until he gave a polite cough that Gale jumped and whirled to face him. 

“No, no, no,” he began all at once, hands raised in a sort of shooing motion. Astarion stared at him in confusion. “I can respect Tav’s indulging in your need for blood, but as I’ve said before: I taste terrible.” 

Astarion scoffed. “Charming. Actually, wizard, I was coming to request your aid in a different, though somewhat related, matter.”

“Really? Care to elaborate?” Gale responded, still somewhat wary. It wasn’t often he found himself alone with the vampire. 

“Testy, I see,” Astarion crooned teasingly. His knee-jerk response to people treating him like a monster, to behave in the most false saccharine sort of way. 

But he drew up short, censoring himself before saying anything else he might regret. He knew he needed to get on the wizard’s good side if he had any chance of getting the answers he sought. 

“I was hoping you knew a spell to reveal someone’s true intentions. Their… motivations for behaving in a certain way, so to speak,” he finished more seriously. 

Gale pondered the question for a moment before answering. 

“Hmm… yes, there is magic to determine that sort of thing… Although it’s been some time since I practiced it…” He trailed off, rubbing his chin in thought. 

“Why are you asking for such a thing?” he asked suddenly. 

Astarion had been prepared for this question, of course. No one did anything for free, no questions asked. He delivered his explanation perfectly, as he’d been rehearsing in his mind.

“One might say our dear sweet Tav and I have been growing a bit… closer these days, but I can sense a master manipulator when I see one. I just simply want to ensure their intentions toward me - toward the party - are true,” he replied with mock innocence. 

“Ah, yes,” Gale nodded. “I gathered as much when the two of you slipped away from the tiefling’s party a few nights ago.” 

“But,” he continued on,”I needn’t think you should worry when it comes to Tav. She seems about as transparent as they come. I’m sure any intentions she has toward you are true.”

Yes, but the best actors always mask their motivations behind innocence and transparency, Astarion thought to himself. I should know. I’ve been doing it for centuries.

After the party’s unfortunate meeting with that Gur in the Sunlit Wetlands, Astarion realized he would have to take potential threats from Cazador even more seriously. He wasn’t about to lose his freedom, not now that he finally had some small taste of it. 

It didn’t hurt to be more suspicious of everyone he encountered, even the sweetling Tav. Anyone could be an operative sent by Cazador, and the best ones would be as skilled as he was in the art of manipulation. It was well-known at this point that the person he’d grown the closest to on their journey was their brave party leader, Tav. Unlikely as it may be that she was scheming for his master, Astarion’s paranoia wouldn’t let him indulge in interactions with her a second longer unless he knew how she truly felt. 

Given Gale’s hesitation, Astarion knew he would have to kick his acting up a notch. Press on that wizard’s heartstrings. Touch the one nerve he knew he was sensitive to.

“Gale, darling, from one literally damaged soul to another, indulge me just this once,” Astarion beseeched him. 

The wizard glared at him a moment, before finally relenting with a heavy sigh. “Fine. Fine. But I want it known that I don’t agree with this so-called solution one whit,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Yes, yes, noted and formally documented, on my word as a former Baldurian magistrate,” Astarion replied cheerily. “So, let’s hop to it then, shall we?”

“What, right now?” Gale asked, shocked. “Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, a little less conspicuous?” 

“What better time than now?” Astarion responded. “Tav’s out gathering firewood with Wyll and Karlach. They won’t be back for some time. As for Lae’zel and Shadowheart, well…” he paused, gesturing over his shoulder. 

Said two were engaged in a heated sparring session on the outskirts of the camp. Snarls and curses could be heard emanating from both warriors as they tried, and failed, to gain the upper hand against their opponent.

“That lovers’ dance could go on until morning,” Astarion finished. 

“Fair point,” Gale admitted begrudgingly, grimacing at the sound of swords clashing violently. “Very well. Let’s get started.” 

Clearing his throat, Gale began to utter a series of phrases completely foreign to Astarion. He watched as the wizard began moving his hands in a wavelike pattern, forming a circle before them. Suddenly, a mist began to form from seemingly thin air, taking shape according to the boundaries Gale’s hands were creating. The mist grew more and more opaque until it appeared before them like a clouded mirror. 

As the fogginess of the ethereal magic began to clear, the “mirror” became a confusing blur of scenes whipping by, too fast for Astarion or Gale to really comprehend. There were flashes of Tav and Astarion, together and separate, but they disappeared too quickly to ascertain their context. It was as though the spell was shuffling through the entirety of Tav’s thoughts, assessing each one at breakneck speed. 

Finally, the spell slowed to a halt, stopping on one scene in particular. Astarion was struck speechless by what began playing out in the foggy portal before them. So distracted, he didn’t even notice Gale’s tight cough, or how the wizard suddenly became intensely interested in a copse of trees nearby, rather than the revelation the spell was revealing.

Not that the scene was especially profound, objectively speaking. In fact, to anyone else, it might be viewed as the least revelatory thing possible that the spell could have shown. Boring. Inconsequential, even. But to Astarion, it was almost earth shattering. 

He saw himself - he could see his face! - with Tav, lying tangled together in some immaculate four-poster bed. 

That was the first shock that coursed through him, nearly causing his knees to buckle. He was seeing himself for the first time in over 200 years. Or at least, he was seeing himself as Tav saw him. And… the person he saw… Well, he was gorgeous. White blonde locks, curled and tousled in a devil-may-care sort of way. A strong, patrician nose that suggested good breeding. High, sharp cheekbones. Full lips, upturned in a thoughtless grin. Red eyes bordered by long, sweeping lashes. Delicately pointed elven ears. Smooth alabaster skin, without blemish or spot. 

Astarion could scarcely believe his own eyes. 

The second shock to his system was the nature of their activities. He would have been less surprised had the vision shown them fucking. Him taking her roughly from behind perhaps. His name a cry of ecstasy from her lips as he pistoned in and out of her with a feral sort of determination. 

Fantasies of lust, of total domination, now those were things he was familiar with inspiring in the minds of the victims he had taken as lovers. It was what he strove for, in all honesty. Desire like that all but ensured he would capture his prey and live to serve another day for his master. 

But nothing of the sort was occurring between vision-Tav and himself. Instead, they were just… embracing? What in sweet hells was this?

She lay halfway on top of him. Her hair was mussed, perhaps from sleep or perhaps from previous lovemaking. One hand was drawing absentminded shapes across his chest, her lips trailing behind, leaving kisses in their wake. He watched as vision-Astarion chuckled softly, as his hands slipped beneath her sleepshirt to caress her waist, as he placed an innocent kiss on the top of Tav’s head. Eventually, she reached for his hand. They both watched their fingers intertwine, blissfully content.

It was the purest, unadulterated expression of affection that Astarion had ever seen. Something in his heart quaked at the sight of it. He wanted that moment. He envied, he hated, vision-Astarion for enjoying such apparent happiness.

So absorbed in the vision and its implications, Astarion failed to notice the soft padding of feet that indicated someone’s re-entry into the camp. 

“If the two of you are quite finished poking around in my head,” an angry voice suddenly spat from behind them, “I’d appreciate you preserving what little privacy I have left and shutting that damn spell off.”

Mortified, Astarion and Gale turned to see Tav, arms crossed and visibly seething with rage. Gale quickly dispelled the magic with a flick of his wrist. A blush was slowly but surely rising up Tav’s neck to reach her cheeks. Whether from rage or embarrassment, Astarion couldn’t be certain. 

“Tav, let us explain-” Astarion started.

“It was his idea-” Gale blurted at the same time, pointing at Astarion. 

Both paused, glaring at one another. But Tav would have none of their feeble attempts at backpedaling. 

“The explanation doesn’t matter. Whose idea it was doesn’t matter. The fact is that both of you violated the privacy of my mind, which I’ll remind you, has ALREADY been violated by having a bloody tadpole forced inside of it!” Tav shouted. At their words, the camp became enveloped in a heavy silence. Even the crickets ceased their chirping.

Astarion cringed inwardly, knowing the other party members could plainly hear this altercation and had likely stopped whatever it was that they had been doing to listen in. He noted the sounds of swords clanging together had ceased. He was certain Lae’zel and Shadowheart at least were aware of what was happening. Nosy bastards, all of them.

But what disturbed him even more was the realization that Tav’s eyes were welling with tears. She was too proud to acknowledge them or wipe them away. Such was her nature. But they were there nonetheless, and the knowledge that Astarion had brought her to the point of tears was enough to spur a rush of utter self-loathing inside him.

Without another word, Tav turned on her heel and marched stiffly out of camp, toward the direction of a nearby creek they’d identified as a water source earlier in the day.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to perform that spell,” Gale said as she disappeared between the trees. He dragged his hands down his face. 

“How could we have been so doltish, forgetting that all of our privacies have already been violated with this tadpole business?”

Astarion didn’t have an answer to that. At least, not one the wizard could possibly understand. 

The thought hadn’t occurred to Astarion, he realized, because violations of privacy had been something so intrinsic to his being for over 200 years. He didn’t even recognize it as something abnormal. Like a fish unaware that the water surrounding it is, in fact, water. 

Violations of privacy were a part of life, at least for him. So much so that his request for Gale to perform that magic hadn’t even occurred to him as an overstepping of boundaries. To Astarion, it had simply been a matter of survival. He had needed to know another potentially manipulative person’s true intentions, and so he had found a means to uncover it and maintain the upper hand. 

Belatedly, he also realized that Gale’s hesitation to cast the spell had had nothing to do with being inconvenienced for the evening, but because the wizard had known that it was improper to do to another person. If he had misread that, Astarion wondered, then what other truly benevolent behaviors had he mistaken as pragmatic manipulation?

“I need to go find her,” Astarion murmured, clenching and unclenching his fists in an uncharacteristic fit of uncertainty. 

“Yes, you do,” Gale asserted. “We both owe her a sincere apology… if she’ll even accept it.”

“I’ll see if I can convince her to come back to camp,” Astarion replied, making to leave in the direction Tav had stormed off. 

“Wait,” Gale said, a hand on his shoulder. Astarion turned to meet his gaze. 

“Look, well, I’m obviously not an expert in healthy demonstrations of affection. But I do think it’s obvious from what you saw in that spell that Tav well and truly cares about you. In perhaps the purest way possible. Treat that carefully.”

Part of Astarion wanted to laugh aloud in utter hopelessness at the wizard’s advice. Someone cared for him? Truly and purely? No hidden games, no strings attached? Oh certainly, that wouldn’t be a problem for Astarion at all. Obviously, his 200-year existence as a master-manipulator-fetch-hound for a power-hungry vampire lord had perfectly prepared him to respond to this situation in a healthy manner. Obviously.

But all that was too much to reveal to someone he barely knew and too heavy to say aloud. Rather than giving some smarmy retort, Astarion opted instead to give a stiff nod and continue walking toward the edge of camp. He had no idea how he could make things right with Tav, but at the very least he could try. 

***

He found Tav sitting on a fallen tree near the edge of the creek bed. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she rested a cheek to her knees. In the waning twilight, she reminded Astarion of some misbegotten gargoyle perched on the roof of a temple, solitary and so very sad. 

Her ears twitched as she noted his arrival. Astarion wasn’t trying to be stealthy. On top of everything else, the last thing he needed to do was scare her. 

“Can I join you?” he asked softly, wincing to himself at the awkwardness of the question. 

The reality was that there was no way to broach this conversation without some stilted beginning, and he hated it. Navigating tricky conversations was normally something he excelled at. But as he was quickly finding, when it related to Tav, nothing in his past life had prepared him to respond to her well. 

“If you’d like,” Tav answered tonelessly. 

Knowing it was probably the best response he was going to get, Astarion swallowed thickly and moved to sit down on the log next to her. 

“I… wanted to… apologize for what you saw, back at camp,” he began.

“Apologize for doing it, or apologize for getting caught?” Tav asked as she turned her head to look at him, resting her other cheek on her knees. 

Astarion balked at the question. Her piercing gaze unnerved him. He hadn’t really thought that far. 

“Both, I suppose?” he answered honestly, although it sounded more like a question to Tav. She huffed a laugh.

“You know, part of me really wants to yell at you. Scream in your face. Tell you off proper,” she mused.

“So why don’t you?” Astarion asked, perplexed. 

Tav didn’t respond at first, just sat there studying him. As if by staring at him long enough, she could project the answer into his mind. 

Astarion didn’t interrupt her, much as he would have liked to. Part of him always bristled when people gazed at him for too long. It was unfair that they could study him, when he hadn’t been able to so much as glance at his reflection in over 200 years. 

Finally, Tav released a heavy sigh, her body curling further in on itself. She closed her eyes as she spoke.

“Because then I would be just like every other bastard in your life who’s mistreated you.”

Astarion flinched in surprise. Those had not been the sort of words he’d been expecting. The truth of them cut deeper than had she raged at him like she wanted to. It left him feeling even more vulnerable, and that in turn made him want to retreat into the comfort of viciousness.

“I don’t need you to pull any punches,” he scoffed, glaring at her. “Go ahead and say what you will.”

She straightened up at his tone, opening her eyes and returning his glare. 

“No. I don’t want to,” she said testily.

“I don’t need your pity,” he hissed. “It’s insulting.”

“Gods damn it all, Astarion!” Tav exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise. She threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m not doing anything out of pity! I don’t want to rage at you, because I know that whatever I say right now, I won’t mean it come the morning!”

Astarion blinked. Once again he was left feeling flat footed by the turn of the conversation. Sensing his surprise, Tav continued on with her deluge of words.

“You hurt me tonight, and I’m angry at you - and at Gale, for that matter - for what you did. But you’ve shared enough of your… history… with me, that I realize your behavior is just… just a byproduct of centuries of abuse and manipulation you’ve endured! And I won’t be another abuser in your life. I won’t,” she asserted. 

Astarion continued staring at her, as if she were some otherworldly creature that had just wandered across his path. He watched as Tav inhaled a deep breath, releasing it shakily. She turned away from him to peer out into the forest, uncertain. She opened and closed her mouth several times before actually speaking. As if whatever she was about to say was more intimidating to her than anything else she’d said tonight. 

“I… care deeply for you, Astarion,” she said quietly. “You obviously saw that in the vision. I’m not playing any games. There’s no hidden motive. I’m not trying to manipulate you.”

She turned to look at him again before continuing, her breathing a bit unsteady. 

“I didn’t sleep with you that night of the tiefling party as some sort of maneuver to gain your trust. Although I understand if that was your motivation for doing so.” 

Astarion’s expression morphed into one of guilt. But Tav nodded soberly, as if she had already expected it, before continuing on. 

“It’s okay. I’m not angry. But I’m putting all my cards on the table now, so to speak. Actually, your decision tonight forced my hand, but I had been planning on telling you soon anyway. So, there you have it. The truth of my intentions. What you do with that information is up to you.”

She turned back to gaze out at their surroundings. Like she was giving him the opportunity to bolt away without her watching him. As if she expected him to flee from her confession. 

But Astarion didn’t flee. He remained seated, staring at her in complete wonderment. 

“Why?” he asked quietly.

She looked back at him again, confusion evident on her face. 

“Why what?”

“Why do you care for me? You’re so… well-adjusted. And I’m well… this,” he finished lamely, placing a hand on his chest. 

Tav pursed her lips. “It would be a mistake to misconstrue my empathy for you as me being well-adjusted. Everyone has their own demons, Astarion,” she murmured. “Mine just look different from yours.”

Astarion mulled her words over in his mind, considering them. He leaned forward to brace his forearms on his knees, his head drooping slightly. 

“I…,” he started, unsure. “That vision… what it implied… You deserve something real, Tav. You’re incredible… truly.” 

Tav closed her eyes, bracing for the fallout. Even though she would accept his decision, whatever it was, she didn’t think she could bear to watch him deny her. It would hurt too much. 

“Look. When we met, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan,” he blurted all at once. Rising swiftly to his feet, Tav watched as he began to pace before her, near to bursting with frenetic energy. 

“Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me,” he counted off, laughing half-heartedly. “It was… easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do… was not fall for you… which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he finished, stopping to stand before her. 

She held his gaze, speechless. 

“I want you,” he whispered fervently. “I want what was in that vision… I want us to be something real.”

Never in a million years had she thought he would respond to her like this. She opened her mouth to speak, but Astarion cut her off with another sudden exclamation. 

“I just don’t know what real is,” he confessed, his tone a touch hysterical. Tav knew from his body language that being this transparent was completely out of Astarion’s comfort zone. 

“Being… close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back. For him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust, and loathing. I… I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to,” he finished, staring at her with beseeching eyes, willing her to understand.

Tav rose to her feet, coming to stand before him. 

“I don’t want you for your body,” she whispered. “Or to perform any acts of intimacy. We can be together, without sleeping together, for as long as you need.”

“Really,” he asked softly, his voice pitched low, rough with emotion.

“Really,” Tav asserted, giving him a small smile. “Would it be all right if…” she paused, conflicted. He eyed her curiously.

“Could I hug you?” she whispered.

The fact that she asked before doing so caused a well of emotion to spring up inside him. Eyes watering, Astarion nodded. 

Slowly, Tav moved forward to wrap her arms around his waist. Her head nestled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. A perfect fit. He felt her exhale a deep sigh.

Tav hugging him was a sensation unlike any he had ever felt. At least, any he could remember feeling. The act of being touched, embraced, without any desire for something more. She just wanted to hold him, feel him close to her. It was incomprehensible to him, but utterly enjoyable, at the same time. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Astarion raised his arms to return Tav’s embrace. Drawing her even closer, he bowed his head to rest his cheek against her hair. It was soft, like the finest silk. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, appreciating her sweet, floral scent.   

She made to pull away after a moment, not wishing to overwhelm him. But Astarion gripped her more firmly, a silent urge for them to stay that way a little longer. 

“This… this is nice,” he whispered. 

He both felt and heard Tav hum contentedly in response. 

It wasn’t identical to the vision from Tav’s mind that he had seen, but Astarion reveled in their embrace nonetheless. It felt like the beginning of something new. And for the first time in his very, very long life, Astarion felt excited at the prospects of what would come next. 

[wosospacegirl]

how r react seeing kika and alexia like that 👀

You're softer - Kika Nazareth

Summary: Y/n is not a fan of Alexia hugging Kika.

Word count: 1.4k

Masterlist here

..

The final whistle had blown, and the stadium had erupted. The Barça fans were chanting songs and waving their big flags. Everyone was happy–well, everyone but Atlético de Madrid.

Barça had won again. Six goals, all from different players.

It hadn’t been just another win–the team had played perfectly. Almost zero mistakes. Every goal had come from a different player, with a different assist.

Y/n should’ve been thrilled. Everyone else was.

But all she could see was Kika.

Kika, standing just off the edge of the pitch, her medical boot on one foot, her crutches tucked under her arms. A happy smile on her face.

And Alexia, jogging straight toward her, arms wide.

Y/n had slowed when she saw them. Alexia had wrapped Kika in a tight hug, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other on her shoulder. Kika had pressed her face into Alexia’s neck for just a second, and they’d both laughed–some shared joke Y/n didn’t get to hear from the other side of the pitch.

She bit the inside of her cheek and frowned at the sight.

A nudge came at her side, and she turned her head. Pina.

“Hey, we won,” Pina said, tugging at her sleeve. “You’re allowed to smile now, you grump.”

“I am smiling,” Y/n replied flatly–not smiling at all.

“You look like someone stole your boots.”

“I’m just... tired,” she muttered, looking away.

But she wasn’t. She was wired.

Adrenaline was still buzzing. She could run laps. Or punch a wall. Maybe both.

Her eyes flicked back to Alexia—carefully adjusting Kika’s crutch under her arm like she might tip over.

Y/n had to look away again.

It was fine. It was Alexia.

Alexia hugged everyone. She hit everyone too, when she got excited. She had basically adopted Y/n all those years ago.That’s just what she did. 

She mother-henned the entire damn team, and not just because she was the captain. It was her personality–although it could be very annoying in times like this.

Y/n forced herself to walk toward them–casually, she hoped–but her jaw was clenched and her hands were fists inside her sleeves.

Alexia noticed her first. “There she is. Star of the game— my estrellita.”

“Hardly,” Y/n muttered, rolling her eyes. “Everyone did well.”

Kika looked up, and her face lit up in that way that made Y/n’s brain stop working for a solid two seconds. Being around Kika made her feel dumb. Like she couldn’t function like a normal human being.

“You were amazing,” Kika said sweetly. “That assist in the second half was–”

“You saw that?” Y/n interrupted, trying to sound cool. But it came out too hopeful. Almost too desperate. Like all she wanted was to be noticed, which–if she was being honest–was true.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Kika said, then winced slightly as she shifted her weight.

Y/n stepped forward immediately, the frown deepening on her face. “Careful,” she said, reaching out to steady her elbow, fingers brushing the soft material of Kika’s hoodie. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just sore,” Kika said, cheeks flushed. “Alexia got a little excited with the hug.”

“Sorry. I got carried away,” Alexia smirked. “Missed seeing you at the games.”

“Stop being a brute to people, Alexia,” Y/n huffed. She hadn’t meant to sound so snappy, but she couldn’t help it. The jealousy gnawed at her, and she hated it.Alexia raised an eyebrow, clearly confused by the tone.

Alexia smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Careful, nena, someone might think you’re jealous.”

Y/n’s face flushed, and she crossed her arms, trying to mask the sudden rush of heat to her cheeks. “I’m not jealous,” she muttered, voice thick with irritation. “I’m just… frustrated. You can’t just go around hugging injured people like that.”

“I’m fine, guys” Kika said quickly, glancing between the two of them. “Really.”

“You shouldn’t even be standing that long,” Y/n grumbled, her arms crossed over her chest. “Let’s get you a place to sit.”

“I don’t want to—”

“Sit,” Y/n said, pointing at the bench like a mom.

Kika looked surprised–but also kind of amused. Alexia watched them both with a knowing smile, one eyebrow raised.

“Well–I’ll leave you two to it,” Alexia said, patting Y/n’s back as she walked away. “Don’t yell at her too much, nena. Be nice.”

“I’m not yelling,” Y/n muttered. “And I am nice.”

But as soon as Alexia was out of earshot, she let out a breath and crouched in front of Kika, who was now sitting–very obediently–on the bench.

“You seriously shouldn’t be on your feet that long,” Y/n said, her lips tight.

“You already said that,” Kika replied, clearly enjoying the attention.

“And you didn’t listen the first time,” Y/n countered. “You got hurt not that long ago. You can’t be out here walking around like—”

“You’re cute when you’re bossy,” Kika said, completely unfazed.

Y/n’s face burned. She went quiet.

“…You’re lucky you’re injured,” Y/n said after a beat, trying to recover.

Kika laughed. “Why?”

“Because if you weren’t, I’d hug you way harder than Alexia did.”

There was a pause. Kika stared at her.

“You still can, you know,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And just like that, all the jealousy in Y/n’s chest melted into something else entirely-something softer, heavier, and way more dangerous.

Y/n didn’t like it. Not one bit. But she embraced it anyway.

She nodded, like she was agreeing to a serious task. Then, very gently and carefully, she wrapped her arms around Kika’s waist and let her chin rest on her shoulder. Her knees were still aching from the match, but she didn’t care.

Kika leaned into her like she’d been waiting for that moment all along.

“You’re a better hugger than Alexia,” she murmured, head on Y/n’s shoulder.

“Why?”

“You’re softer.”

The hug lasted longer than it probably should have.

But neither of them moved.

Kika's chin rested against Y/n’s shoulder, her arms were looped loosely around her waist, careful not to press too hard.

“I missed this,” Kika mumbled.

“Missed what?” Y/n asked.

“This,” Kika said, squeezing her gently. “The girls. Being on the pitch… you.”

Y/n stayed quieT. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Not without blurting out something stupid like ‘I missed you every second you weren’t around’ or ‘I didn’t want anyone else to hug you today but me’.

Y/n didn’t know how to deal with whatever it was her and Kika had. It was very confusing, a lot of feelings involved. Good and bad ones.

“You’re warm,” Y/n said suddenly, feeling the heat radiating from Kika’s forehead against her skin. She gently stepped back, trying to create some space between them, but Kika didn’t let her go immediately.

“I think you might have a fever,” Y/n continued, her voice almost accusatory.

“O que?” [what?] Kika said, her voice almost amused as she took Y/ns hand off her forehead. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. You’re hot,” Y/n said, her eyes darting to the ground, as if her own words embarrassed her. She meant it, of course–she could feel the heat radiating off Kika in waves, but somehow saying it aloud felt… too intimate, as if Y/n was noticing Kika too much. More than she should.

Kika smiled, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “Well, I’ve been outside for hours. That’s what happens when you stand on crutches for too long–they are kind of heavy.”

Y/n frowned, worried. “I’m serious. You might need to rest more than you think.”

Before she could respond, Kika shifted slightly on her crutches, and Y/n’s instinct kicked in right away.

 She stepped closer and placed a hand on Kika’s shoulder to steady her. But the touch was a little more than that–more than just caring for a friend or a teammate. It lingered for just a moment too long, but it was enough to make Y/n’s pulse spike.

Kika’s eyes met hers, and there was something in the way she looked at Y/n that made her breath hitch.But neither of them said anything.

“Let’s get you back to the locker room,” Y/n said, clearing her throat, her voice a little rougher than usual. She tried to make the shift back to something that felt normal.

Kika didn’t fight it. She nodded, her eyes softening as she let Y/n help her. The whole way back, the silence between them was thick. Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that Kika knew exactly what she was doing to her. And maybe she was okay with it.

Maybe she was waiting for Y/n to catch up.

..

Notes: let me know what you guys think of it <3

Masterlist

[st4rfckerz]

Hitchhiker | Modern!Anakin Skywalker x Reader

word count: 4.7k

warnings: fingering, very brief titty sucking, fingering, unprotected sex, cum eating, slow build up (SORRY)

summary: After your friends ditch you at a festival, you find yourself stranded on the highway and a kind stranger picks you up.

Fresh from the festival, the sun beats down on your skin as you squint against the glare. You're a bit disheveled from the wild concert, but you've still got a smile on your face. The highway offered a lonely walk, but the memories of the music still ringing in your ears. Staggering on, the lonesome highway seems to stretch on endlessly, with no escape from the scorching sun. As you continue, you decide it might be wiser to hitch a ride. You stick your thumb out, hoping to catch the attention of any passing cars, although glare from the sun probably isn't helping. After a few cars speed past you, ignoring your plea for a ride, a sleek, red mustang pulls up to the side of the road. It reverses slowly, coming to a stop next to you.

“You need a lift?” The man grins, the words rumble along with the car engine.

“You offering?” you say with a laugh. He's handsome, with a scruffy jaw and light blue eyes that hold an amused glint.

“Maybe.” He speaks again, his eyes searching your face. You approach the car, the gravel crunching under your feet. As you open the door, the scent of leather and clean air wafts over you. You slide into the seat, feeling a bit relieved that someone finally stopped for you. You shift in your seat, feeling the warmth of the day slowly dissipating. The car interior is cool and comfortable, the wind from the air conditioning brushing against your skin. Anakin starts the engine, the car rumbling beneath you.

There's a small awkward silence as the car begins to move, the sound of the tires against the pavement filling the space.

The man breaks the silence, his voice smooth and deep, “You didn't tell me your name.” The question is casual, friendly, and shot through with a sly charm. He steals a glimpse at you, a wry smile playing at the corner of his lips. You tell him your name with a friendly smile, glad that the awkwardness has been lifted.

“And you are…” You let your sentence trail off, gesturing towards him with a tilt of your head.

“Anakin.” he replies, his eyes never leaving the road. As you look at Anakin, the sun casting a warm glow on his fair skin, you can't help but admire his features. His light blue eyes seem to glisten in the fading light, his dark, honey-colored hair tousled softly on his forehead. His strong hands grip the steering wheel with a sense of confidence, his broad yet lean physique and stubble making him all the more ruggedly attractive. As the car smoothly moves along the highway, you can't help but feel a little thrill at being in his company.

You lean back into the seat, feeling the leather comfortably hug your body. “So, Anakin,” you ask with a playful note in your voice. “Where are you heading?” Anakin shoots you a sly grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Just a little town off the highway. Nothing too fancy, but it's home.” He asks, glancing at you again. “What about yourself, where are you off to?”

“I was supposed to go back into town with some friends but they all decided to leave me the show early, so I just left.” you explain in a dull tone. Anakin's brows furrow slightly, a hint of concern etched onto his face.

“Well, that's not very nice of them, is it?” He says disapprovingly. You can see that he was a bit bothered by your situation. “But at least you got a better ride than you bargained for.” He adds with a chuckle.

“You know I really do appreciate the ride.” you say sincerely. Anakin smirks, his eyes still on the road.

“Well it’d be a shame to leave a pretty little thing like yourself out in this heat, wouldn’t it?” He says as he steals another quick glance at you, giving you a short look over before returning his gaze to the road.

You look at Anakin, your eyes lingering on his features for a moment before you look back out of the window, your cheeks flushed. “You can drop me off at the gas station coming up.” You say, trying to change the subject and regain your composure. As much as you’d love to stay in the vintage vehicle and chat with the man you met just a short while ago, you had to get your hands on some food.

“Are you sure?” He asks, a hint of disappointment in his voice. The approaching gas station signals the end of your impromptu road trip, a bittersweet feeling washing over you as you prepare to say your goodbyes.

“Yeah it’s okay, I’ll figure out somethin’.” You respond. You weren’t exactly sure what you’d do after leaving the gas station, but you were sure you’d figure it out.

“I might as well get some gas while I'm here," Anakin says, his tone lighter as he tries to make the best of the situation. “Thanks for the company.” he speaks with a smile, parking his car next to a gas tank in the process. You step out of the car, the gravel crunching beneath your feet once more.

“I’ll see you around Anakin.” With a final smile, you close the door behind you, the metal clanging softly. You move towards the small gas station, the glow from its windows beckoning you. The humidity smacks you in the face once again, the warm air heavy against your skin. Inside the little store, you can't help but steal glances out of the window towards Anakin. He's pumping gas, his broad shoulders and strong hands in full view. You turn your attention to the shelves, filled with a variety of snacks and drinks. You select a few items, the crinkling of the wrappers filling the quiet store, accompanied by the low hum of the shitty air conditioner.

You make your way to the register after grabbing a coke, the cold air from the fridge tickling your back as the door zips shut. The clerk smiles at you as you place your items on the counter, but you can't help but be a bit distracted, still thinking about Anakin.

You reach into your pocket to pull out your wallet, but are met with nothing. Dread prompts your eyebrows to furrow and your heart to miss a beat. You must've lost it back at the concert or maybe left it with a friend. You had to come up with something, and fast.

“$6.66.” The clerk's smile never falters as she informs you of your total. You offer her a weak smile, unsure of what to do about the missing wallet.

“Unlucky number.” you say with a nervous chuckle, gesturing towards the total. You felt stuck like there was absolutely nothing you could do.

The clerk chuckles, perhaps sensing your unease. “Some people believe in that kind of thing. But I think it's just a number. Besides, maybe it'll bring you some good luck instead.” She says, her tone friendly and reassuring. You smile, grateful for her lighthearted demeanor.

“I hope so.” You murmur to yourself, your eyes still locked on Anakin. Just as he finishes pumping gas, you turn and rush out of the store without thinking. The bell above the door jingles as you exit, your heart pounding in your chest. You make your way towards Anakin, the bit of a grin on your face conflicting with the guilt from leaving without paying.

You yell for Anakin while waving your unoccupied hand frantically. “Anakin! Go go go!” You call out, your cheeks flushed. Without waiting for an answer, you jump into his passenger seat, the door slamming shut behind you. Your eyes dart around, realizing the predicament you've just put yourself in. Anakin starts the engine, the car rumbling to life beneath you. You can see the surprise in his eyes when you jump in, but he recovers quickly, shifting the car into gear and speeding off from the gas station.

“Well that was dumb,” Anakin says with a wry smile, his eyes never leaving the road ahead, “What do you plan on doing now.” His tone is lighthearted, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin.

You let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the edge of your seat. “I don't know,” you reply honestly, your cheeks still flushed. “Hopefully nothing bad will come of it.” You can't help but feel a bit nervous about the consequences of your actions.

Anakin chuckles, his grin widening. He reaches over with his large, calloused hand and gives your thigh a consoling rub. “It was practically nothing. Just a few snacks.” He says. His confidence in you is comforting, easing some of the tension that had been building within you.

You look over at Anakin, your curiosity piqued by the events of the night. “So, you always pick up random strangers off the side of the road?” You ask, leaning back in your seat. You're intrigued by the man who's been nothing but kind and charming, making you wonder what drives him to be so generous.

“No, not always,” Anakin shakes his head. “But when I do, I'm glad I did.” As the car continues along the long road, you can't help but feel allured by Anakin. The way he carries himself, the charm in his wit, and the kindness he's shown you have created an indelible impression. His rugged exterior and the way he seems to effortlessly command the road make you feel safe and protected, despite only knowing him for less than a day.

Anakin peeks up at the sky, a hint of melancholy in his voice. “Looks like the sun's startin’ to set,” He muses, his eyes lingering on the horizon for a moment. The sky shimmers in shades of pink and orange as the sun dips below the horizon.

“So,” Anakin begins, his voice soft and curious. “Do your parents know where you are?” He asks, his eyes flicking over to you for a brief moment before returning to the road. The question, while seemingly innocent, carries with it a hint of concern. You can't help but appreciate the thoughtfulness beneath it.

“Kinda,” You hesitate for a moment, contemplating how much to share. “My parents didn't want me going to the show, but I went anyway.” A tinge of guilt lacing your words. The thought of the potential consequences of your actions weighs heavily on your mind.

“You know, they might be worried about you. Maybe you should call them when we stop for a bit. Let them know you're safe.” He suggests. You nod in agreement, knowing he’s right.

After a while, Anakin slows the car and pulls into the parking lot of a vacant auto repair shop. There, next to a broken-down Coke machine, stands an old-fashioned payphone. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handful of quarters before passing them to you, his eyes meeting yours. “Here, use these,” He says, the kindness in his voice as evident as the kindness in his eyes.

You take the quarters from him, the small gesture filling you with gratitude. You walk over to the old-fashioned payphone, the silver buttons shining in the dingy overhead light. You dial your parents' number, your heart beats faster as the phone rings.

“Whatever.” You mumble to yourself. After slamming the phone back on its cradle, you turn back towards the car. Anakin's eyes meet yours, concern etched into his features. “They didn't answer. Maybe they're asleep.” Anakin nods, recognizing your disappointed tone.

“Well, I'm sure they're just fine. Maybe they'll wake up and find your missed calls,” He says reassuringly. You offer him a weak smile, grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood “Do you have a place to stay tonight?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. “No, not really,” You admit, your voice soft. The truth is, you hadn't thought that far ahead, caught up in the excitement of the concert and the thrill of the unexpected journey. But now, the prospect of finding somewhere to stay in the middle of the night seems daunting.

Anakin considers this for a moment, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel. “Well, if you'd like, you can spend the night at my place. It's not far from here.” He offers, his voice even, unrattled by the potential implications of his words. The proposition is unexpected, yet comforting in its simplicity.

“I could just get a motel room,” You say, feeling a pang of hesitation. The idea of spending the night at a stranger's house, however well-intentioned, is a bit unnerving. But Anakin shakes his head, his expression unwavering.

“The motels nearby aren't the safest, I'd feel better about you staying with me.” Anakin insists firmly. There's a sense of finality to his tone, as if he's made up his mind and won't be dissuaded.

You chew on your lower lip, contemplating the offer. The thought of navigating a potentially shady motel in the middle of the night is enough to make you reconsider. The trust and care Anakin has shown you throughout the night reassures you somewhat, making it easier to see the good intentions behind his words.

You nod, a small smile playing at the corners of your mouth. “Alright then.” You say, grateful for the kindness and the offer of shelter. Anakin puts the car back into gear, the engine purring to life. You lean your head against the cool glass of the window and out at the darkness that surrounds you. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, the events of the night tumbling through your mind in a haphazard rhythm.

As the car hums along, you find yourself dozing off, the motion of the vehicle lulling you into a light, restless sleep. The world outside blurs as your eyes flutter shut.

“Hey sleepy girl,” The sound of Anakin's voice snaps you back to consciousness, your head jerking up from the window. “We’re pulling up now.”

Anakin pulls into a driveway and parks the car and you catch your first glimpse of his home. It's an old little house, nestled within a grove of trees, their branches reaching out like arms, enveloping the house in a natural embrace. The porch light flickers on, casting a warm glow that seems to beckon you.

The house has a charm to it, its weathered wood and stone, layered with a history that speaks of comfort and solace. A hammock swings gently from two trees, the scene reminiscent of quiet afternoons and relaxation. The porch is lined with potted plants, their greenery breathing life into the otherwise still night.

The two of you step out of the car and make your way up the porch steps, the creak of the weathered, wooden planks adding to the tranquil atmosphere. Anakin unlocks the door, the brass handle yielding with a soft turn. He holds it open for you, gesturing for you to enter. The aroma of wood and spice wafts from within, a faint hint of tobacco lingering just beneath the surface.

You step inside, the door closing gently behind you. Anakin follows, the door's latch securing you both in this refuge for the night. The room is cozy, with a worn-in couch and a large armchair by the un-lit fireplace. A wooden table sits in the center, a lamp on its surface casting a warm glow.

“The bathroom's down there,” Anakin gestures to the hall, his voice a soft rumble. “Take your time. I'll bring you some clothes when you’re done.” He informs you, his eyes briefly meeting yours once more.

You smile gratefully, the offer of a shower after your long day feeling like a true blessing. “Thank you.” You say softly. You nod your gratitude and head down the hall, the wooden floor creaking beneath your feet.

The bathroom is clean and simple, with a shower stall and a tub. You turn on the water, the steam rising as the heat envelops you. The sound of the water washes away the residue of the day, the tension slowly draining from your body.

After a while, you turn off the shower, the sound of running water replaced by the gentle drip of water from the tap. You wrap a towel around yourself, your hair hanging in damp ringlets about your face.

You hear a soft knock on the door, followed by Anakin's voice. “I got you some clothes for tonight. I'll just be outside when you’re done.” He says, his tone gentle.

You open the door a crack, revealing just your face behind the barrier of wood. Your hands brush against Anakin's as he gently hands you a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. His fingers linger on yours for a moment, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

The pants Anakin left were a little too big for you, so you decide to just wear the shirt. It's a comfortable fit, the fabric soft against your skin. You tuck your hair behind your ears, gathering your things, before making your way down the hall. You make your way through the dark house, your footsteps light on the wooden floor. There, you find Anakin, seated in a long, outstretched lounging chair, a cigarette dangling from his lips. The faint glow from the tip illuminates his face, casting shadows that play across his features.

He looks up as you approach, his eyes meeting yours before returning to the night. The silence between you is comfortable, the hum of the night insects and the crackle of the fire serving as a soothing soundtrack. You join him on the porch, the chair creaking softly as you settle onto it. The stars above are brilliant, their light casting a dream-like veil over this unexpected sojourn.

The cool night air is punctuated by the sound of his inhale, the smoke curling upward like tendrils of fog.

Anakin glances over at you, his eyes lingering on your bare legs for a moment before he speaks. “The pants didn't fit, did they?” He asks with a smile.

You shake your head, feeling a blush creeping up your neck. “No, they were a bit too big for me,” You reply, your voice light, attempting to brush off the awkwardness. “You’ve got a nice place here,” You say, your words soft, as if to break the ice. You're not sure what else to say, the unfamiliarity of the situation making you feel a bit exposed.

Anakin nods, taking a slow drag from his cigarette before exhaling a plume of smoke. “It was my grandma's house. She moved to a nursing home a few years ago,” He responds, his voice filled with a hint of nostalgia. “I decided to keep it. It's been a good place for me.”

The revelation adds another layer to the enigmatic stranger before you. The house, with its charm and history, now seems like the perfect vessel for his stories. You can't help but feel a bit envious of the heritage and the connection it must provide.

“You got a girlfriend?” You ask. You're not quite sure why you want to know, but the question tumbles from your lips, the night seeming to demand answers.

Anakin pauses for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Not at the moment,” He replies, his voice even. His eyes meet yours, holding your gaze for a brief moment before flicking back to the night. “If I did I don’t think she’d like the thought of me picking up pretty girls from the side of the road.” He says with a lopsided grin.

You reach your hand over, your fingers brushing against his as you take the cigarette. He passes it to you without hesitation, the warmth of his skin lingering on your fingertips. You take a drag, the smoke burning your throat, your eyes watering slightly. You cough, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you pass the cigarette back to him. “I guess I should thank you for that then.” You say, your voice light and teasing.

The two of you lock eyes, the silence between you thick with unspoken thoughts. Anakin's gaze is intense, filled with a desire that is, for the moment, unspoken. He slowly leans in towards you, his nose brushing against yours softly. Your heart races as his lips meet yours, the kiss tender and hesitant at first. But as your lips part, the kiss deepens, the sudden intimacy of the moment overwhelming. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you onto his lap, the warmth of his body enveloping you.

Anakin's hand glide along your thighs, the other coming up to brush across you now hardened nipple, his touch a trail of fire that leaves you shivering. The air between you crackles with electricity, the tension thick as you both surrender to the magnetic pull that has brought you together. As Anakin continues to brush his hands against your body, your hips shift, accidentally grinding down against his. The sudden contact sends a jolt through both of you, the heat between you reaching a fever pitch. Anakin's breath hitches, his eyes widening for a brief moment before he recovers, his hand coming to rest on your hip.

“Fuck- not here.”Anakin stands up from the chair, lifting you into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist, feeling the solid strength of his body beneath yours. He makes his way inside, the creaking of the floorboards echoing softly as he carries you through the house. His room is cozy, with a large bed dominating the center. He sets you down gently on the mattress, the fabric cool against your skin.

Anakin hovers above you, his body poised over yours as he continues to kiss you, his lips exploring yours with a steadfast passion. His hand reaches between your legs and begins to rub his thumb against your panties, the warmth of his touch making your cunt clench pathetically around nothing. You arch your back, your hands gripping his shirt, the fabric straining under your fingers.

“Please do something.” You whisper, the plea barely audible as your body writhes under his touch.

“Be patient,” He says, his lips barely leaving yours. He slips his hand beneath your panties, his fingers teasing your entrance before slowly sliding inside, his thumb still working against your clit. “You’re so wet.” Anakin groans at the slick warmth that envelops his fingers, his own desire evident in the sound.

Anakin begins to pump his fingers inside you, the steady rhythm of his thrusts sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps, your hips rising to meet his hand, the hunger for release growing with each passing second. He leans down, his lips trailing kisses down your neck. The sensation of his lips against your skin combined with the rhythm of his hand is almost too much to bear. His other hand cups your soft skin, his thumb brushing over your nipple, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. He slides your shirt up, revealing your breast to his eager gaze. Anakin takes your nipple into his mouth, the sensation of his lips and teeth sending a jet of pleasure through you.

“I'm s-so close, ‘m gonna cum.” You gasp, the words barely audible over your racing heart.

Anakin responds to your plea with unbridled fervor, his fingers digging into you, his mouth working furiously on your nipple.

“Cum on my fingers baby, you got it.” He growls, the command laced with a need that mirrors your own. Your voice rings out in a cry as your orgasm swallows you whole, Anakin's fingers soaked with your wetness.

Anakin pulls his fingers from your pulsating cunt, bringing them to his mouth. He sucks on them hungrily, his eyes never leaving yours. He leans in forward and kisses you again, the taste of you on his lips and tongue as he deepens the kiss.

You reach out, your hand finding the hard bulge in Anakin's pants as you kiss him. He groans into your mouth, the sensation of your touch sending waves of desire through him. Anakin breaks the kiss, his eyes filled with a raw hunger as he unbuckles his belt and pulls down his pants. His erection springs free, standing tall and proud, the evidence of his intense attraction to you on full display.

He positions himself between your legs, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance. With a slow, deliberate motion, Anakin pushes himself inside you, the sensation of his length filling you causing a gasp to escape your lips. He pauses for a moment, the two of you locked in a heated embrace, the weight of the moment hanging between you.

“Hold on just…give me a second.” Anakin's breath hitches, his head drops to your shoulder as he gathers himself, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming.

After a second or two, Anakin starts to roll his hips into yours, his rhythm slow and deliberate at first, the sensations building as he moves within you. His voice is heavy with yearning, the words spoken from a place of raw need.

“You’re so tight, clenching around me so good angel.” He murmurs into your ear, his hot breath causing a shiver to race down your spine. Anakin increases the pace of his movements, the new pace causing you to moan louder, the feeling of him inside you becoming more and more intense. Your nails latch onto his shoulder blades, your body arching up to meet his thrusts.

“Need more Anakin, please.” You breathe out between moans. Responding to your plea, Anakin leans back, his arms tightly gripping your waist as he tilts your hips up, driving himself deeper inside you. The new angle sends jolts of pleasure through your body, the intensity building with each subsequent thrust.

“You like that? ‘S that better?” He speaks breathlessly. Words babble from your lips, the coherency of your speech lost to the bliss that courses through you.

“Such a sweet girl getting fucked by a stranger.” Anakin teases you with a grin, aware of the circumstances that have led you here. You haven’t even known him for twenty four hours and you’re already dumb for his cock.

“I’m gettin’ close angel.” he growls, his breathing harsh and erratic as he continues to jackhammer himself into you.

You gasp as the sensation of him within you reaches a fever pitch. “Me too,” You manage to get out between breaths, your eyes locked onto his as you feel the hot coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter with each thrust.

Anakin eggs you on, his voice a guttural growl as he feels the moment drawing near. “Cum on my cock baby, give it to me.” He demands, the need in his voice only serving to fuel your own. The intensity of the moment becomes almost unbearable, your body convulsing your orgasm washes over you once more. Anakin doesn't hold back, following in your wake as he releases inside you, his body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm.

Anakin takes a moment before slowly pulling out of your worn pussy, the heady scent of sex hanging heavy in the air. Anakin kneels in front of you, his gaze locked on your throbbing core, savoring its abused form. His tongue darts out, cleaning the swirl of your shared fluids, his tongue lapping gently at your folds.

“T-too sensitive, I can’t-” His thumb rubbing your inner thigh offers a soothing balance to the sensations, the gentle pressure providing a comforting contrast to the lingering pleasure.

“ ‘M almost done.” He says, his tone calm as his tongue continues its delicate motions.

Anakin finishes cleaning you, his tongue retreating, leaving you slick and satisfied. His eyes meet yours as he crawls back up the bed, his lips claiming yours in a tender kiss. The two of you fall into a contented silence, your bodies tangled together. The weight of the day’s wild events fades as exhaustion claims you both, the warmth of the shared intimacy enveloping you as you drift off to sleep. Though the future remains uncertain, the intimacy of the moment lingers.

[littlelovelunette]

camgirl reader x viewer/watcher sevika?

"Do As I Say."

Personally am not a fan of this idea, but let's see what I can do for y'all

Contains smut, dildo, pornography, r!pornstar, fingering, cliffhanger ending, mentions of self harm, sado-maso conversation, masterbating

Nervous as you were, despite having done this several times before, you opened the laptop and logged into the website.

Instantly, you started getting comments for you to do this or that, mainly just people sending disgusting comments. But there was one woman who always came online whenever you did.

Sevika.

You didn't know her. Atleast, that's the name she used on her profile. But whatever the case was, you never started touching yourself until she came online.

It started ever since you were only starting out in the porn industry, she'd been possessive over you.

Now, slowly it had become a tradition that you wouldn't touch yourself until she joined your live chat, no matter how many times the other people would comment or tell you to do so.

Yeah, you did lose a few viewers over it but you didn't really care. You made enough money off of this Sevika person.

A long few minutes passed and there was no sign of this woman until suddenly you saw the little message at the corner of your screen that said that she joined.

“Hey, bunny.” The first text she sent was vague but did something to you. “Hi.” You said, stretching the vowel a little.

“Feeling lonely tonight again? Or are we desperate for money this time?” Sevika's words popped into the screen.

“A little bit of both. I like masterbating. And I like money so… I could just earn money while masterbating, no?” You replied, a sly smirk playing on your red painted lips as you tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You like pleasure, I get it.” The text showed up, “But you think you get off on pain, too?”

“I suppose, I never attempted to inflict pain on myself, that sounds depressing.” You said with a little laugh making Sevika on the other end of the screen laugh too.

“I meant sexual pain, love.” She typed out for you to read. “Want a little demonstration?”

“Sure…” although the words were unsure it just escaped your lips because deep down you knew you wanted Sevika to reduce you to a whining, pathetic state even though she couldn't really touch you in real life. At least not right then.

“Bring the pretty glass dildo you have.” Sevika's words shone on the screen. You blushed but nodded, bringing the glass, transparent dildo.

“Now?” You questioned in a soft voice.

“Strip for me, bunny.”

You slowly slipped your lingerie off, smiling at the webcam, a slow seductive smile.

“Such a tease.” Sevika's words popped up.

“Only for you, daddy.”

“Now I want you to kneel facing away, put the dildo on the ground and take it in your ass.” The command was sharp and there was no mistaking that she wasn't playing around.

“W-without lube?” You asked, voice shuddering a little. “Yes, bunny, come on.” You flushed reading the comment, that would sting a little.

But you came so far so you might as well do it. You turned around and knelt down, ass facing the camera as you slowly placed the transparent toy on the ground.

As you slowly lowered yourself on the silicone dick you winced because you knew it wouldn't go in without a long and excruciating stretch.

You sucked in a breath before slowly pushing down causing the toy to slip deeper inside your ass making your eyes close tightly.

“Oh, fuck, Sevika, that hurts.” You whispered as you continued slipping the dildo inside inch by painful inch. The stretch was a burning pain searing through your butt.

That would make a few days of sitting down painful even. As all of the dildo disappeared into your ass, you let out a little sigh of relief. “It's inside, ‘Vika, what do you want me to do now?”

You turned around so you could read the comment section on the screen.

“Geez that's a beautiful ass.” Someone said.

“Sexy as always.” Someone else said but you really didn't care what they thought.

“Check your cunt, slut.” Sevika's comment said to make you look down and use a finger to rub the soft pad of skin down your pussy to feel and goodness were you soaked down there. “I'm so wet…” you confessed aloud.

“That's a good slut.” Sevika said followed by, “Now finger your cunt. Lay down on your lower back, legs up, and show me how much of a whore you are, won't you, bunny?”

You nodded, blushing as you laid back and fingers rubbed your own heat, eliciting a soft moan from you. “S-So good, daddy.” Two fingers spread your pussy out as one of your fingers disappeared into your slit, rubbing against the inner walls making you whimper and moan.

“Wish you were here, “ ‘Vika, o-oh, g-g-gosh…” you stuttered and whined as your fingers worked to pleasure you.

Your clit throbbed as you slipped two more fingers inside and gasped, “Fuck.” You cursed as your fingers moved fast, burying knuckles deep inside your own pussy.

The dildo in your ass was lodged inside dry and the pain mixed with the pleasure was a delicious combination.

Your mind was going hazy and legs a little tired from hovering up, fingers moved faster and faster until you cried out and your body jolted, squirting all over the place.

“Daddy… fuck, that was so good.” You got up, wincing as the dildo pushed deeper due to you sitting up.

“Take the dildo out now, bunny.” You complied letting the dildo slip out of your asshole which gaped for a little after the thick toy moved out.

“You're so hot, bunny.” Sevika's words shone, making you blush and giggle a little. “You're such a fucking tease. Wanna come over and ruin both your holes.”

“You could if you want to…” You said as you fidgeted with your fingers suddenly feeling shy which was ironic considering you were naked in front of a bunch of unknown people.

Just then you received a private message from Sevika that said, “Next time, use a VPN. Open your door now.”

[pearlymel]

Hiii!!

Love your work!! If you’re available, could you please write hc’s of Jing Yuan, Natasha, Kafka, Boothill, Jiaoqiu (OOC is fine!!), Sampo, Gallagher, March 7th, and/or Serval with a reader with low blood sugar? Huge self-indulgent comfort ask, but it might resonate with a lot of other people!

My DM’s are open if you ever would like to learn some major symptoms of blood sugar drops. You absolutely do not have to do all of these characters, just giving you some ideas! Have a wonderful day/night!! ☺️💕

Synopsis: headcanons of the hsr character and reader with a low blood sugar.

Includes: Boothill, Jiaoqiu (might be ooc), Jing yuan, Gallagher, and March 7th.

Notes: i didn't add all of them because i usually write up to 5 characters or so (gonna create my rules sometime this week). But thank you for the request, lovey! I had so much fun writing this, i love writing and exploring new things :) i hope it was to your expectations, and sorry if the symptoms were inaccurate (google was my help i was too shy to dm.)

↳ BOOTHILL.

—we all should agree that this man is a caring lover, although i see him as the type to forget that you're not like him. You're not metal and scraps like him, and that you're a human being who needs a lil extra care.

—he doesn't think much of it when you first tell him that you tend to have low blood sugar, he even asks random strangers at bars he goes to about this sickness.

Boothill loves all types of fun to do with you, and tonight, you suggested you both dance.

Seeing the hint of a smile gracing your lips when you try hiding it by pressing your face on shoulder, Boothill grins. And he makes no attempt to hide his delight, he tightens his grip on your frame, holding you carefully but firmly against his chest.

"Well now, ain't I a lucky devil," he drawls, the evident sarcasm was in his tone, "Looks like I'm gettin' the chance to dance with a lovely person who shares my love for tryin' new things. I must be doin' somethin' right."

Silly, you think. "You were simply just you. And i love being with you."

Boothill grins, his eyes softening at the edges as he gazes down at you.

"Well now, ain't that a sweet thing to say," he replies, his voice gruff yet affectionate. "I ain't used to hearin' such sweet talk, to be honest." He pauses for a beat, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly.

"But hearin' it from you, it's nice," he continued before pulling you a bit closer against him.

You laugh along with him, bringing your hand to brush your fingertips along his hair, your other hand over the metallic surface of his chest before you slow your movements, you feel dizzy. No, it's not from how much you both were spinning, you both were going slow and careful.

It doesn't go unnoticed by him with the shift in your demeanor, a subtle change in your movements that indicates something is amiss.

"You okay there, darlin'?" he asks, his brow furrowing as he looks down at you. He can feel something amiss with you physically.

"Lightheaded." You mumble, holding onto him. "You... You have uhm.. anything sweet i can take?" He gives you a nod, "Reach into my pocket, I'm sure there's a candy sitting there," he explains, guiding your hand to his pocket, taking it calmly.

You give him a small smile when you reach for his side pocket to grab the singular wrapped candy.

Your fingers fumbles with the wrapper before you pop it in your mouth, sucking on the strawberry flavoured candy while resting your cheek on his shoulder.

"Doin' a little better there?"

"Yeah, thanks my hero."

"Don't you go gettin' all sweet on me now," he mutters with that of gruffness, though he smiles. "You're the one who's supposed to keep me from goin' all soft."

↳ GALLAGHER.

—Oh he's ready 24/7 whenever the situation calls for it. He takes this very seriously and will make sure no funny jokes were made about it, because they're certainly not funny to him and he will kick ass if anyone makes it harder on you than it should be.

What a sight for sore eyes. Truly. And no, he's not talking about the view, he's glancing back at you where you sat while looking up at the skies, your head titled as if you're so immersed.

"Anything on your mind?" He was the first to speak as he approaches you, "A lot of things.. clouding my head." You half shrug, watching him as he takes a seat next to you with a can of some carbonated drink on his side, and you hear the slight hiss of it when he open it with his finger. The carbonated drink fizzes a little between his finger and thumb as he pops the tab open, taking a small sip from it before turning his attention back to you.

His crimson eyes were on the direction you were trying to look at but he can't find what's so interesting about tonight's sky.

“I'm willing to stay here all night and listen.” He reassures you.

"Mhm," you stare blankly ahead now, almost zoning out, and you don't notice how sweaty you're starting to feel, or how your heart starts racing.

Gallagher's eyes narrow as he notices your almost zombie like look of a thousand yard stare. The way you look unmoving and not even acknowledging him.

He doesn't say anything and just hands you his drink, gently tapping the can on your arm to bring back your attention. You don't hesitate to grab it, taking small fast sips.

"Careful," he helps you straighten your back, drinking while slouching isn't exactly good.

You sigh when you hold the can with both hands now, letting it rest on your lap, "Thank you—"

"When was the last time you ate today?" He gently cuts you off.

"Earlier."

“And can you confirm that ‘earlier’ wasn’t hours ago?” He asked, his voice now firm but he tries to stay calm.

"I'm sleepy." You brush his question off instead, looking at him while blinking slowly as you lean to rest your head on the side of his shoulder. Gallagher watches you, letting out a soft scoff at how you tried to change the subject. He knew he wasn’t going to get an answer from you, but he also wasn’t going to let you just avoid the problem either.

"We're having dinner after your little nap, deal?"

↳ MARCH 7TH.

—March.. panics when she finds out for the first time. She asks you if you were okay, if you wanted anything, even when you try to reassure her that you felt fine at times, she wouldn't be convinced until you stay under her watch. She bugs Dan Heng to tell her all the possible symptoms so she wouldn't panic more than she should.

Today, you were March's model for photography, well you always are her model because she says you're the best fit for it.

She lets you try out fun clothes and you shyly and awkwardly try to pose in front of the camera at first, but then you immediately gain the confidence after a few more clicks. Smiling and posing while trying out all the fun combinations of colours and clothes.

She looked at you, wearing clothes she had picked out for you. You looked absolutely beautiful.

The enthusiastic girl was blushing a lot as she kept taking pictures of you, giggling behind the camera even.

"March, mind if i sit down for a bit?" You hated to stop her from her enthusiasm, but you feel lightheaded almost. And you were sure it's not from the flashes.

March immediately stopped taking photos and set her camera down when you asked.

She placed a gentle hand onto your forehead, seeing if you had a fever first. "Are you feeling sick?"

"No, don't panic. I just feel lightheaded. Do you have anything sweet i can take?"

Okay, she is prepared for this, "You're low on blood sugar, are you?" She asked, concerned. March then grabbed a small candy—a lollipop, to be exact—from the camera case and offered it out to you.

"And you came prepared." You try teasing, and she nodded with a light laugh. It was a nice-looking sweet lemon-flavored lolliop.

"I carry them with me just in case!" She replied, You both sit down together, she takes out another lollipop for herself so you wouldn't feel left out.

"We can take pictures while eating these lollipops."

March nodded in agreement with your idea, she was happy that you even said that, it meant taking pictures together for an hour now wasn't boring you out.

Then, she pulled out her camera again, a grin forming on her face, "That's a good idea! Alright, on the count of three—" she pulls the lollipop out, posing as if kissing the candy while you smile widely as the camera clicks on both of you.

↳ JIAOQIU.

—sooo, he's a healer. Then that means we all can agree that he's the attentive lover, and strictly cares about your health and diet, but i feel like he'd be playful about it at times.

You don't remember sleeping for so long when you woke up rather confused, shuffling around the blankets and sitting up on the bed while rubbing your head.

Your fault for skipping breakfast and going straight into your work or chores for today.

You fail to notice at first the pink haired figure next to you, sitting beside the bed so silently that it makes you gasp when you turn around to see him.

He was holding a spoonful of some red liquid that you're sure is spicy concoction. He looks at you expectantly, a hint of mischief behind his closed eyes.

“Say ahh,” he says quietly, enjoying the moment. But you almost try not to laugh.

"What happened exactly?" You ask him, refusing to still take that.. extremely dark red soup. It was so dark you can almost smell the spice in the air.

"Someone forgot to eat their meal i prepared earlier," he hums, still trying to pry his spoon closer to your lips, "so i had to find myself misfortune in the of finding you almost unconscious. You're lucky i was carrying some sweet herbs with me." And you frown at his next words, you want to apologize for how he must've been worried.

As if sensing your next words, he smiles, "none of that. Now, open up." He offers you the spoonful again but you pull your face away.

"Are you sure you're not trying to kill me next?"

Jiaoqiu pretends to pout. His fox ears prick and he gives you a slight pout, "You're so dramatic," he says, his tail flicking with amusement. He holds up the spoon again, still waiting for you to open your mouth.

"My soup will fix your blood sugar. Trust me, it's a secret recipe," Jiaoqiu says with a sly smirk.

"What if it tastes bad?" You regret the words leaving your mouth, because he opens his eyes and stares at you with an almost hurt expression. You take the spoonful in your mouth without another complaint, and he hums in approval while closing back his eyes.

The flavours almost explode in your mouth, it.. wasn't spicy at all. It was rather sweet and savoury.

"You tricked me, it's not spicy at all."

"I never said it was spicy, though." He tilts his head, feigning innocence and confusion.

Despite his antics, you instantly feel better, although he doesn't allow you to feed yourself, he'll do it for you.

↳ JING YUAN.

—This man would spoil you rotten. You're feeling unwell? He would love to take the day off and just look after you, although there is a doctor on the side in case anything gets serious. You're simply tired not because of your low sugar levels, but just because you were? He would gladly invite you in his arms or simply sit next to you while you both chat nonstop about eachother's days if that's what will make you feel better.

You were panting when you decided to train alone in the training grounds, Yanqing offered to train with you but you insisted that you needed that full concentration.

After a while, you do feel exhausted and worn out. The spear dropping from your hands as you bend a bit to rest your hands on your knees to catch some breath.

"Now, now, if you want to get stronger, you'll also need a break." Jing Yuan's call for you is what makes you huff out a chuckle. In his hands is what looked to be a bowl of fruits with a water bottle on the other.

"i wanted to build some muscle." You tell him when he gives you that look whenever you start training alone. It's not that he's against your wishes of wanting to be stronger for your own good, but he wishes Yanqing was atleast there to watch you.

"And, I'm not a baby." You roll your eyes playfully and he lets out a deep laugh. "Eat up." You take the orange first, but he was quick to take it from your hands to peel it for you, so you take the grape instead.

You as well take the bottle, gulping down almost the whole thing. Water has never tasted this good.

"You're not a baby, but you drool like one." You almost glare at his words and he only grins while wiping the excess water and fruit juice off the corner of your lips with his thumb. "That was mean, General." You raise both of your eyebrows at him, he only pats your head back, pulling you in with his arm to just hold you.

"when the time comes, you'll be strong enough to protect me."

[kisseobie]

240711 jongseob ❤︎ ིུ͠*:·.

pairings: jongseob x reader

warnings: nsfw (mdni)

tags: dom!seob, sub!reader, jongseob is cocky, reader is going insane over his compression shirt and baggy jeans (i am reader), nipple play, blowjob, face fucking, hair pulling, no prep, unprotected sex lol wrap it before you tap it guys, reader is nasty and grinds against his shoes, pussy slapping, rough sex, touchy in a taxi (kind of?) in the first bit, light body worship, reader is an actual whore for her boyfriend .. i think that’s it

a/n: yeah so i had to start writing this as soon as the pictures dropped sorry (i’m not) and a special dt to @lijeons because we both feel insane over him rn

“you listening?” are the only words that leave your boyfriend’s lips that you can successfully say you’ve comprehended in the painfully slow 10 minutes you’ve occupied this drive with him, and yet you are still too dazed to answer with a proper reply, merely nodding along to the question. sitting in this close proximity with jongseob, and nearly falling onto his lap at times due to the taxi driver’s reckless driving, is not an occurrence that you’d ever expect to dread, but today is different. today, jongseob decided to wordlessly proclaim “i hate my girlfriend!”, you suppose, and he might as well lower the backseat windows, stick his head out, and bellow that very phrase out to the streets, because he clearly is unaware of how embarrassingly wet you’ve been rendered in the mere minutes you’ve been in his presence.

you’re being ridiculous, the reason for your sudden dramatics being jongseob’s outfit, if you could even consider it as one rather than a feature from a slutty mens fashion magazine from the 90’s. your boyfriend, although fashionable, isn’t typically the type to pair his usual baggy pants with the tightest compression shirt you’ve ever seen, but once again, apparently today had to be different. you’re choosing to blame it on the boy spending too much time shopping with intak, making a mental note to send an unfriendly text to his hyung later. your boyfriend, bless his heart, is clueless to your internal panic, and is currently flicking through recent photos he took on his digicam whilst explaining his thought process behind each shot to you. you’re trying, you really are, to focus and bask in his excitement, but how can you be expected to pay attention when each click on his camera causes his boyish arms to shift ever so slightly, especially when the shape of his upper body is accentuated with the tight white longsleeve top that adorns his frame? are you just supposed to go on with your day and pretend that his newly found love for thin compression shirts doesn’t send heat flooding to your core?

“..and this one! i took this one in thailand because the colors reminded me of the dress you wore on our date last month.” jongseob relays to you with a toothy grin, looking at you expectedly for your reaction to his cute confession. you smile at him genuinely, temporarily tossing your arousal to the back of your mind and leaning over to place a peck on his cheek, which only makes his smile grow. “i missed you a lot seob.”

“yeah?” he asks, with an annoyingly cocky smirk already making its way on his lips.

“mhm”

he doesn’t waste any more time, grabbing at your waist to pull you into a long overdue kiss, ignoring the fact that you both are in the company of a very annoyed taxi man. you kiss back with just as much, if not more, fervor, pawing at his recently dyed two-toned shag. your hands drop to stroke and knead at his toned arms, freshly manicured nails slowly descending and scratching down jongseob’s clothed chest. he shifts his kisses to the nape of your neck, biting at your skin and pulling you in impossibly closer. you both are interrupted and awkwardly squirm away from each other as the driver’s grunt of frustration reaches your ears, and you look up to lock eyes with the man, glaring at the pair of you from the rearview mirror. you’re giggle nervously, but halt your amusement at the situation when realizing that the impromptu makeout session with your boyfriend has only made your panties even stickier than before, and you curse yourself for being so easily affected by a few of his kisses.

unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend is not as oblivious to your current fixation on his attire as you may think. jongseob resists the urge to coo out loud at how you pivot your thighs against each other to feel some friction, and at how your eyes shamelessly find purchase on his upper body every few minutes. he shimmies closer to you after a while of silence, laying his head atop your shoulder as you try to ignore how good he smells when he’s so up close, how the mixed scent of rich cologne, wood, tangerines, and boyhood makes you dizzier by the second.

he’s lifting his head now, so his lips hover dangerously close to your left ear, smiling knowingly and whispering “i take it you like my outfit?”, and jongseob doesn’t even give you a moment to react, retreating back to his side of the backseat, but not before shooting you a shit-eating grin that makes you want to sock him, albeit lovingly, in the face.

𓂃ᡴꪫ ⋆ ੈ ࣪   𓏲ּ ❤︎

the familiar rigidness of jongseob’s wooden floors poke and prod at your jelly knees, and you can already feel the soreness starting to seep into the muscle. regardless, you’d never dare to get up, not when your boyfriend has his pretty, leaking cock out, with his pants bunched up at his feet. he clicks his tongue as you wrap a manicured palm against the heavy girth, silently signaling to you to “get on with it”. you can’t even blame him for smirking and at your pathetic quickness to lap your pink tongue against his tip, not when you look like a stray cat being fed milk for the first time in weeks.

you’re maneuvering your tongue to lick long, tantalizing stripes against the prominent vein running along his length, hand still wrapped around the base that you know you won’t be able to reach with your mouth. his hisses and groans only push you further, taking his cock all the way down your mouth and suctioning your lips just how you know jongseob likes it. apparently your slow speed is not your boyfriend’s forte, evident in the way he forcefully grabs at your hair and pushes you inwards to take even more of his dick in your mouth. tears are already streaming down your face, but you love when he uses you like this, love the feeling of being suffocated by him so carelessly. you make the mistake of looking up to jongseob’s face, met with the view of the boy who’s brows are furrowed in ecstasy. he peers down at you, maintaining eye contact as he pushes your mouth off of him, giving you a brief chance to breathe.

jongseob looks heavenly, bangs dampened with his own sweat, body still clad in the white compression shirt that clings to every ripple and divot on his lean body. you can’t take your eyes off of him, almost like a moth drifting towards a flickering porch light. you beam up your boyfriend with the prettiest smile you can muster, batting your eyelashes while your fingers creep back up to find home on his thighs. he’s giggling at your sly actions in disbelief, but does nothing to stop you from licking at his fat cockhead once more. “you’re having lots of fun with this, aren’t you?” comes out of jongseob’s mouth, followed by a shaky sigh. when you don’t respond, he’s babbling again. “wan’ you to answer me y/n. couldn’t even get inside my apartment, fuck, without you jumping my bones. bet that cunt is dripping all over my floor.”

to prove his theory, jongseob lifts his shoe to push upwards against your cloth panties, your decision on wearing a mini dress today making the access easier. jongseob groans out loud when he spots the giant wet patch soaking through your underwear. despite your boyfriend examining your clothed cunt with a scoff, you aren’t embarrassed in the slightest, and can already feel yourself getting delirious from pleasure despite remaining untouched. you love when he gets like this, so cocky and dominant that it makes your cunt clench on air, weeping for some stimulation. jongseob is about to pull his shoe away from your core, but you beat him to doing so by shamelessly rocking your panty-clad cunny back and forth over the hard material. you’ve rendered the boy absolutely speechless, gyrating your hips against his shoe like a whore as your juices seep through your panties and on top of the leather material. your eyes are on his the entire time, finding amusement in his disbelief of your desperateness. you make sure to increase in volume with every rock of your hips, letting out pornographic moans as you fuck yourself on your boyfriend’s shoes.

“get up.”

it takes everything in you to not ignore his command, putting a brief pause on your pleasure as you hold onto his thighs for leverage, pushing your wobbly body up with some effort. jongseob doesn’t give you a moment to collect yourself before grabbing at your face for the nth time tonight, kissing you with teeth and tongue before pushing you onto his bedsheets behind you. he doesn’t say a word to you as he begins to lift your dress up and over your head, his silence somehow making the situation hotter. your tits are on full display, nipples hardening as they hit the cool air of jongseob’s ac unit. your boyfriend scoffs, once again, at your lack of a bra but remains silent, taking his time with kneading your boobs and kissing at the surrounding skin. he can sense your impatience, and ever the sweet boyfriend, begins to lift the hem of his own top, but is stopped by your shaky hands as you plead, “nononono, keep it on please.”

he complies to your pathetic request with a snort, refocusing to fully pull off his dirtied shoes, pants, and boxers, now only left in that damn compression shirt, accompanied with a dangly silver chain around his neck. jongseob smiles at your wandering eyes, catching you off guard by hooking his hands under your knees and pulling you towards the edge of the bed. you begin to anticipate the feeling of his slender fingers discarding your sodden panties, but it never comes. instead, jongseob circles your covered clit with his thumb, clearly enjoying teasing you. fat tears start to cascade down your cheeks once more, and you can’t stop yourself from whimpering out in both ecstasy and frustration. you know you would look ridiculous to an outsider, but right now it’s just you and jongseob, so you don’t feel embarrassed in the slightest. your begs come out rushed and wanton, the words scratching the depths of your throat.

“please seobie, touch me already! stop teasing!”

he smirks at your impatience, getting off at your very obvious desperation as he slows the pace of his thumb prodding at your puffy clit, the thin material of your underwear still clinging to your cunt.

“i am touching you.”

just as you begin to sob, jongseob wraps his delicate fingers around the straps of your panties, pulling them down in one swift motion. he leans his face in to nudge the tip of his nose against your button, inhaling deeply as to memorize your scent. you were relieved to finally be bare in front of him, but the lack of touch has you squirming against his sheets in annoyance. you know you’re acting ungrateful, with jongseob treating you so delicately, but you can’t help but want more.

a sudden smack! pulls you out of your head, the combined pain and pleasure of your boyfriend spanking your bare cunt causing you to gasp at the sudden change of demeanor. he hits your cunny again, laughing at the way you subtly push your hips forward to meet the power of his slaps. he repeats the motion a few more times, until your wetness leaves a glimmering sheen on his palm, and your pussy is an angry shade of red.

he gives you another brief moment to breathe, watching how your cunt rises and falls like a second heartbeat. he’s fisting his neglected cock to the sight of you, hair splayed out messily on his sheets, flushed cheeks with tear steaks running across them, nipples hard and vulnerable to his touch. without warning, which seems to be a running theme with jongseob tonight, he begins to slide his mushroom cockhead between your folds, hissings and cursing at the wet feeling.

“you ready?”

you nod, biting down on your bottom lip as you prop your weight onto your elbows, mentally preparing yourself for the stretch of jongseob’s cock. he leans down from where he stands to place a peck on each of your pink cheeks, drinking in your salty tears before capturing your lips into a deep kiss. when your boyfriend pulls back, he rests your smooth legs on top of his shoulders, placing a soft kiss on your left ankle, and the intimacy of it all has you falling deeper and deeper in love with him.

after what feels like eons, jongseob starts to push his girth into your tight hole, letting out a hushed “fuck” in the process. god you missed the feeling of him filling you up to the brim, missed how perfectly the pair of you fit together, creating your own sinful symphony of sloshes and grunts. once you’ve taken him in all the way, he tests the waters by thrusting slowly, making you both moan out at the familiar feeling that will never quite dull despite the countless of times you’ve felt it before. you’re staring at your boyfriend, who’s currently preoccupied with pounding into you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, the view making you throw your head back with a whine. your greedy pussy wraps around him so well, obscenely suctioning his cock every time the boy pulls outwards.

you watch how jongseob’s shirt continues to flex and cling onto his muscles with every motion, can feel the sweat peeking through the material as your legs stay glued to his damp shoulders. he’s breathing heavily now, little whines and whimpers giving away how much he’s missed having you like this; splayed out like a princess on his bed as he works you towards your climax. one particular thrust of his hips hits home so well that you’re seeing stars, fingers fisting his silk sheets as your cunny clenches down on him. jongseob notices the shift, and hits that particular spot over and over, quickening his pace with every thrust of his hips.

“mmm yeah, right there! right there!” comes out of your mouth so loud you’re almost afraid his neighbors will write a complaint. he only speeds up at your loud request, fucking into your gummy walls so heavenly, whispering praises and “i got you” ’s into the air. at a certain point, he’s leaned so close to your body that he lies right on top of you, the weight of his clothed chest meeting your bare one, making both of you dizzy. your perky tits press up against the smooth material of his shirt, creating a type of friction that has you toppling over, cumming around his cock with a loud cry.

jongseob isn’t holding up any better, thrusts becoming messy and irregular as your orgasm spurs him on to chase his own, and with a few more shifts of his hips he’s shooting his release into your walls, filling you up to the brim with his milky seed. he lazily strokes into you one, two, three more times before pulling out. the loss of contact, paired with the feeling of his cum leaking out of your hole, makes you whine in displeasure, already missing how nice he feels inside of you. jongseob carefully flips his body over to lay next to you, panting heavily as you extend an arm out to play with his hair.

𓂃ᡴꪫ ⋆ ੈ ࣪   𓏲ּ ❤︎

the scent of him suffocates you senses in the most heavenly way, and you tuck your face deeper into his now bare chest, shirt tossed aside somewhere on his floors. you inhale the notes of tangerine coming from the boy that you’ve become so accustomed to. sleepy and dazed, you almost miss jongseob’s husky “who knew that me wearing a tight shirt would lead to the best sex of my life?”

you make a noise of discontent and lightly shove him by the shoulder, rolling your eyes at his teasing and he just giggles like it’s the funniest thing in the world. jongseob pulls you back into him despite your whines, wrapping his arms around your naked frame and placing light pecks into your hair.

“i bought it in 3 different colors, by the way.”

you groan into his chest, causing your boyfriend to laugh out loud at your cuteness. you choose to let sleep take over instead of imagining your very hot boyfriend wear another one of those damn compression shirts in whatever fucking shades he bought them in, telling yourself that you’ll rip him a new one in the morning. or jump his bones. whichever comes first.

𓂃ᡴꪫ ⋆ ੈ ࣪   𓏲ּ ❤︎

new chat

you

[12:58 pm] hey! consider killing yourself. 😊

intak 😒

[1:03pm] ??? tf i do?? ☹️

— you disliked a message

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© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

❤︎ ིུ͠*:·.

[araybiaaa]

❝ switching bodies for you, d. starkey. ❞

ooo. 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈… drew starkey & original black!female character

ooo. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔… roleplay, praising, oral, penetrative sex, edging, squirting, unprotected sex, rough sex. anal, “good girl” praises.

ooo. 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔… she wants to try something different and her boyfriend is more than eager to comply.

ooo. 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔… had this idea and i wanted to see how it would come out. and i think i like it although i envisioned it completely different in my head but whatever lol. 😬 dk if this idea has been used before but wanted to try something a bit different!

she knows that it was a rather peculiar ask; part of her expected him to say no or for his response to be more taken aback by the absurdity of it all but she was pleasantly surprised when he nodded his head in agreement and replied with a concurring, “okay.”

they were at home laid on top of the mattress; drew was sprawled halfway on top of her — his body nudged between her legs with his cock protruding against the fabric of his jeans, swelling in its girth, messily staining his briefs with precum that leaked from his flushed head. their pelvises chafed and teased against each other’s in a slow and torturous grind. despite the barrier, she could feel the evidence of his arousal brushing against her cunt every time she moved her hips in accordance with his.

“wait.” she murmured, licking her swollen lips as she retracted from the kiss to look at him.

he looked debauched with his skin flushed in the prettiest rosy blush, lips slick from the salvia that passed between their mouths and eyes lidded with lust. he furrowed his brow, breathing laboredly through his parted lips. “what is it?”

she chewed hesitantly on her lower lip, suddenly feeling shy and chagrined as the suggestion circled her mind. it was silly and probably strange, but there was something that she’s been wanting to try with drew for a while now. she was reluctant on saying it because she didn’t know how to properly approach or explain it reasonably.

she worried about the possibility of him taking offense to it or that he would think that she wasn’t satisfied with their sex life (which was so far from the truth — she doesn’t think she’s ever been with anyone that can make her cum as much as drew does.) so, she temporarily dismissed the thought all together until her interest about it suddenly piqued again.

“this might sound a little weird…” she begins, looking up at him underneath the length of her lashes. the furrow in his brow deepens but he nods, prompting her to continue. “but i was thinking maybe we could try something a little different tonight.”

“okay. like what?”

“like you fucking me but roleplaying as rafe,” she says, watching as his confusion deepened. “i know it’s weird, but i’ve always kinda fantasized about him and how he would be in bed.” her face flushes in warmth at this confession, she never actually thought she would admit this out loud to anyone.

she loves drew for who he is; but there was also something undeniably sexy about him when he’s portraying rafe. she’s visited the set a few times and observed the subtleties of his transformation — seeing him go from her doting boyfriend to an irascible psychopath. she knows that he was just acting, but seeing him bloodied and bruised and depicting someone so completely antithetical to who he is — had stirred something inside of her.

and she’s suddenly embarrassed again with how silent drew is after she finishes talking and she’s parting her mouth open to tell him to just forget she ever said anything, when he looks at her and nods, “okay.”

she looks at him again, gauging his reaction just to see if there’s any underlying reluctance or apprehension, because the last thing she ever wanted was for him to do something he wasn’t comfortable with just for her sake. but there wasn’t any. he seemed genuinely intrigued by her request and this realization excites her.

he leaned down to brush a kiss against her throat before sliding up to meet her mouth again. “how did you fantasize him being in bed?”

she whimpered softly, feeling her cunt throb in anticipation. “i don’t know… just rougher than you usually get.”

he hums in acknowledgment, nudging his nose against hers as he kisses her deeply, taking her bottom lip within the grip of his teeth. he sucked and nipped diligently on the soft skin until it swelled. he released the bruised flesh, sliding the palm of his hand over her stomach. her breath catches in her throat, goosebumps erect over her skin as his fingers hovered over the waistband of her flimsy shorts.

“drew,” she keens, writhing in desperation for him to touch her.

he shakes his head, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth making at tsk-ing sound in reprimand. “it’s rafe, remember?” he murmurs, his breath tickles her skin as he nipped and sucked dark love bites on her neck.

she exhaled shakily, already so overwhelmed with pleasure that she forgot about the prerequisites that he reinforced. she arches her body further in his touch, nodding her head curtly. “good girl.” he coos, brushing his lips over every inch of skin that his mouth could reach.

his fingers tug her shorts and slick stained underwear off, pulling them over her hips and down her thighs until they’re bunched up around her ankles. she discards them with an absentminded kick, flinging them somewhere onto the floor with a soft thud.

drew retracts from the kiss, a string of saliva falls from their lips as he pulls away. his eyes lower; taking in the sight of her weeping cunt. he groans softly, “fuck you smell so good,” he marvels, the sweet scent of her musk lingers in his nostrils and has his mouth salivating. he slides down her body, lowering and angling himself so that he’s seated directly at her center.

his fingers brush against her skin as he slides a hand over her calf, hefting her leg over his shoulder. he’s rewarded with the sight of her pussy that’s glistening with arousal along her slippery folds. drew parts his lips into a puckered “o” as he buries his face between the sweltering furrow of her thighs. she whimpers, high and loud when the bridge of his nose brushes against her clit — it was the barest of sensations but still enough to have her shivering and moaning in pleasure.

he hovers his lips over her clit; then gently started sucking it until she’s suctioned in his mouth. he sucks and releases the pressure rhythmically, pulling her clit in and out of his mouth in a teasing catch and release. he holds her there, using the tip of his tongue to massage her clit. “rafe!” she shudders, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she feels her toes curling from the pleasure.

he makes his way up her vulva and increases the pressure so that the base of his tongue is nudged slightly under her clit. he continued to move upwards, using his tongue to stimulate the bottom of her clit. then, in one smooth lap, he’s relaxing his tongue and licking her up. tears sting in her pupils and blur her vision, her hips arch off of the bed as she thrusts against his tongue and pushes his head in further so he’s nearly suffocated in her cunt.

she chokes on a sob, feeling her body tremble at the stimulation. he inserts a finger into the penetration; brushing through her wetness as he teased the sensitive flesh. she bellows a cry, as her body writhes against the mattress. “i’m close!” she forewarns to no avail as she squirts messily in his mouth. drew licks up the remnants of her arousal as he lifts his head from its perch.

his mouth is slick and red; a combination of saliva and her cum messily coat his swollen lips. she’s still lulling from her orgasm as he begins to undress himself. he shrugs out of his shirt and maneuvers out of his jeans and briefs, tossing them aside on the floor until he’s left naked in front of her. “can’t wait to be inside of you again. gonna fuck you so good, baby.”

his cock curls against his thigh; fully rigid and painstakingly throbbing. he hovers over her again, aligning the swelled tip of his cock at the center of her cunt. he barricades through her wetness, grinding against her so that her swollen lips are chafing against his bare cock.

“fuck. you’re so wet for me, baby.” he murmurs, feeling her cunt lapping repeatedly over his cock, leaving a residue of her arousal slicking him every time he withdraws. he rubbed the head against her swollen clitoris, through her labia, against her entrance, then slid her cunt against him from tip to base. she draws out a loud moan, her head falls back against the pillow as the friction coils and pulls in her lower abdomen.

her cunt gapes around his tip — still sensitive and swollen from her first orgasm. he watches in awe, mesmerized by the sight of her pussy lips and how they stretch and lap against him. “rafe, baby, please!” her fingers grip the bedsheets, teeth dig so deep into her lower lip that she could taste blood stinting from the bruise. “i need you now.” she sobs, though her hips still move in accordance to his movements, tracing over the ridges and teasing her entrance.

the lewd sounds of his cock slicked in her wetness has him groaning in pleasure; his thrusts go languid as he feels his own orgasm licking up his spine. “that feel good?” he firms a grip on his cock and nudges his tip against her swollen clitoris; feeling her clench wantonly around him. she nods vigorously. her body’s shaking, tears fall freely from her eyes as he holds her there — lingering and brushing against her clit until the pressure becomes too much and she has to push him away to catch her breath.

a bit of his own precum mixed in with hers, causing the fluids to spill out of her cunt and down her thighs, forming a wet puddle beneath her.

his cock twitches at the sight of her like this; debauched with her face moist with perspiration and tears, pussy engorged and leaking with both of their fluids, hair messily pooled around the pillows like a halo. she already looked so fucked when he hasn’t even been inside of her yet. drew leaned forward to kiss her, feeling the wisps of her breath tickle his skin. “okay?” he raises a brow, looking down at her.

she’s squirted before, but the pressure of these the last two were far more intense than any of the previous times. she nods, licking her lips as she feels her cunt throb; an undeniable tell that she was ready for more.

“good. turn around for me,” he avers, watching as she complied eagerly and turned around so she was lying prone. drew stands on his knees, settling himself behind her. “ass up, baby. that’s a good girl.” he slides a hand over her cheeks as she inclines her back in a sinuous arch and holds herself up with her palms pressed into the mattress.

he spreads his knees a bit further, making enough room so that he’s settled in between her for a precise intrusion. palming his cock in his hand, he angles himself at her hole and nudged his hips forward as he began to slowly delve in. there’s a delicious pain that spreads through her body at the intrusion. the pain subsides and is immediately replaced by pleasure, inciting drew to continue filling her of his cock inch by inch until he’s brimmed at the hilt.

she chokes on a gasp, feeling the stretch of his cock swelling in its girth inside of her. her body trembles at the sensitivity and she has to pop her ass back to catch the tip of drew’s cock curled just past her perineum.

his eyes lower to where he’s nudged inside of her; the sight of it alone is enough to make him cum. “rafe!” her whimpering plead retracts him from his reverie.

he digs his fingers into the meaty flesh of her hips as he held onto her. he rolled his hips in an upward thrust; brushing his pelvic bone against her ass as he lingered there for a moment. “oh!” she shivers, feeling her body trembling from his breach. he withdraws until he’s halfway slipped out of her, then he’s fucking back into her with a vigorous thrust of his hips that has her body lurching forward at the exertion.

she arches her back further; pressing her face into the mattress as she changes the angle a bit so that she feels every penetration of drew fucking her deep in her bones. her ass ricochets against him with every forward thrust that he gives, she convulses around his cock every time he fills her again, reclaiming him in a tight stretch.

drew grunts and groans, his hands squeeze every inch of skin that’s in his reach as he fucks into her, mewling at the noisiness of their sex. he presses his hand down on her back, anchoring her in place as he implements a slow, languid stroke. “rafe!” she cries, her voice muffled from where it’s pressed against the mattress. she undulates her hips, meeting him thrust-for-thrust.

she bit the comforter as drew pulled out the tip and slid back inside in a smooth thrust. she ground her teeth into the cotton and squeezed her eyes shut as she felt his cock continue to fuck unrelentingly into her.

drew’s hand slid up the back of her neck and grabbed a fistful of her hair, tugging her head back hard as he thrust with more vigor.

“uh-uh. i wanna hear your sounds. i wanna hear you scream for me. wanna hear how good i’m making you feel.”

“drew-” she inadvertently says, feeling him tug her hair at the blunder.

“who?” he didn’t release his grip on her hair or the position he was holding her head in, bent far enough so that her body arched against the bed. “yeah you like when i fuck you like this, don’t you?” she made a strangling noise, almost blacking out with the sudden movement when his dick touches the perfect spot inside her. her eyes rolled back as she tried to form the word, but all that came out was a whimper.

her body lurched forward with the force of drew’s thrusts, and she was completely lost to the pleasure as he fucked her with abandon. the headboard knocks against the wall, the mattress creaks in complaint beneath them. drew could feel her clenching and seizing as she approached her climax, and it had him ready to cum as well with the base of his cock tingling.

“rafe! right there… fuck… i’m gonna cum.” she cries.

“you take my cock like you were made for it. you gonna cum for me, pretty girl? come on. cum on my cock. let me feel it,” that was all it took for her to jump off the cliff of release with a loud cry, eyes rolling back into her head and jaw going slack as her whole body shuddered. “that’s it. you’re doing so good, baby.”

all it took was a few more thrusts before drew came with a guttural groan, thrusting into her tight hole. he ground against her, fingers digging into her hair and pulling tight as he stuffed her full of his cum.

she could feel drew’s cum filling her up and trickling down the insides of her thighs. she moaned in satisfaction, clenching around drew’s cock sporadically, milking him for everything he had. her breathing was harsh and labored as she tried to catch her breath from getting fucked into the mattress. her whole body was sensitive, and every tiny movement of drew moving above her made her whimper.

he leaned down and kissed her shoulder softly, nosing over her cheeks and neck. he pulled out slowly, trying to not hurt tiana, who whined as his cock slid against her sensitive walls. she collapsed onto the bed with a soft groan, her body sinking into the mattress.

her limbs felt lax, every muscle in her body was deliciously spent. she rolls over, looking at drew who looked equally as disheveled — skin flushed, eyes lidded, chest heaving. she smiled sheepishly, chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath.

“you okay? i wasn’t too rough was i, baby?” he asked, falling beside her as he felt his own body go wilt from the exertion.

she shakes her head reassuringly, “i won’t be able to walk for a few days, but i’m okay.”

he smirks, leaning over to peck a kiss against her shoulder. “good. so did rafe live up to your sexual fantasy?”

“mhm. he exceeded my expectations.” she says, biting on her lip as she scooted closer towards him. she maneuvers her body so that she’s seated astride of his lap, comfortable in her perch. “but now i’m ready for drew to fuck me again.” she whispers softly, reaching between their bodies and grabbing ahold of his cock that twitches at her insatiable libido.

[kentoxo]

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt.9

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: prepare urself. next chapter may or may not be crazy. once again (the usual) spam of thank yous. all of your kind words both in replies and reblogs makes my heart sing. to those who said they want to be part of the taglist-- i reopened it! i might have missed those who recently asked to be on it so pls reply to this chapter so i can get you :( so sorry for my lack of meticulousness.

all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7, pt.8,

December | Tokyo, Japan | Saturday

You had to call out the following Thursday and Friday. 

The cold you manifested was wreaking havoc on your body, the constant shivering now straining your muscles and bones. You couldn’t even find comfort in your bed, as you’d sneeze and cough, or dash to the bathroom during the waves of nausea. You were grateful to not have gotten frostbite, but damn this cold bites! 

It was nice to have some space away from work, and Nanami. You deduced that this cold was inevitable, as the stress that loomed over since your confession (and second rejection). But this wasn’t fun either, as you could barely make yourself a cup of coffee while also having to answer Haibara every few minutes, who wanted to make sure you were doing well. It was bittersweet to say the least. 

As you cuddle your heating pad meant for your tummy, you begin to scroll carelessly on your phone. Although it was your day off, and you were sick, you often liked to check your work emails. You like to be extra prepared for Monday, as those were the days when you have bigger workloads to tackle. As you scrolled, you stumbled upon an email directly from Takada shacho. Before you could open it however, there was a gentle knocking at your door. 

“Coming…” you say weakly, quickly finding a mask on your bedside table. Comforting the straps around your ears, you make a slow walk towards your door. You get on your tiptoes to look through the peephole, only to back away in shock and slight embarrassment. “N-Nanami kacho? What are you… doing here?” You proceed to cough. 

“I came to check on you,” Nanami hums from behind the door. “I know you’ve been sick due to my shortcomings. I wanted to see how you were faring.” 

“A-ah, I see,” you stammer nervously. You were hoping not to see him until Monday, but luck still remains anywhere but your side. “You could have just called me as well…” 

“I felt… that it would be best to come in person,” Nanami begins shyly. The sound of plastic shuffling joins. “I, um, also brought some things to treat you. If it’s okay with you, may I please come in?” 

You go a bit pale, “um… I don’t really want to get you sick. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come in and–” 

“I don’t care. I’d like to see you, and make sure you are well.” Nanami interrupts you with a stern tone. His words sounded non-negotiable, and you didn’t want to [fuck around and] find out if you refused his entry. Reluctantly, you unlocked your door and slowly opened it, revealing the tall man before you. 

His hair was once again messy, lazily pulled back with his fingers. He was covered in snow,  of course, but had gloves on to protect himself from potential frostbite. You look down at his two large bags he got from 7-Eleven. You move out of his way and let him place the bags down. He closes the door behind him, and begins to untie his scarf from around his neck. As he did, you offered your hands out to take it from him. 

“Let me,” you offer in a hoarse voice. 

Nanami looks down at you, “you’re sick. Thank you, but I can hang it myself. Please feel free to go back to bed.” 

“A-ah, but you’re my guest,” you insisted through weak coughs. “My mom would reprimand me if she saw the way I was hosting you right now. I haven’t even boiled tea…” 

Nanami, now just in a sweatshirt and his joggers, quickly puts on his slippers and offers his hand to you. You look up at him confused. “Come and sit down,” he coos, taking your hand and guiding you towards your living room. He gently allows you to take a seat on the couch, which is quite the relief considering you were exasperating just from answering the door. 

Through small coughs, you watch as Nanami brings his bags to the kitchen, and begins to unpack them. He silently takes out a few vegetables and cartons of broth. A pool of pill bottles also leave the bag, along with other cold suppressants. “Can I,” you start hesitantly, your index fingers looping around one another, “can I offer you a cup of coffee?” 

“No,” Nanami shot you down quickly, “I’d rather you rest than concern yourself with me. Though, the offer in your condition is very touching.” 

Your cold now felt like a fever, as your cheeks went completely hot. You looked crazy, your hair and makeup undone. Your pajamas were ornate with little ducks, and you don’t even have tea prepared. And here was this effortless, handsome man in your house, with a pot in his hands and his eyes navigating your tiny kitchen. It was an honor to see him outside of his work clothes, as it still made your heart run. 

“Are there any vegetables you don’t like?” Nanami asks gently. 

You sit up promptly, staring distantly towards the pot that was now full of water and preparing to boil. “I’m not a big fan of daikon in my soup,” you reply awkwardly. “A bit too strong for me.” 

Nanami looks over at you and gives you a small smile, “I would have never expected that you didn’t like daikon, Y/N.” 

“In soup, I’m not a fan,” you quickly mend the confusion, “soups are meant to be calming, not crazy.” 

“Daikon makes soup crazy?” Nanami continues, amused by your detest. 

“It’s a bit much,” You exclaim weakly. “Just me personally, I can’t deal with all that sass.” 

“Sass?” Nanami finally lets out a chuckle, “what a way to describe a vegetable you don’t like.” As he cleans the vegetables he provided, he couldn’t help but continue to smile. “So this is what you’re like outside of work,” he whispers to himself. But your ears catch his words quickly. 

You feel your cheeks burn from shyness. But as you stared at the back of Nanami’s head, you remembered all the tears you’ve shed these last 2 weeks. Your heart still hurts, even while sharing a warm conversation like this. He was still the man who you confessed to, and broke your heart twice. You look distant towards your window, seeing the snow slowly fall over the city. 

“You don’t have to cook for me, Nanami kacho,” you say quietly, “you have done enough, so thank you. I can do the rest from here.” 

Nanami purposely ignores you as he begins to chop a carrot. “What do I have to do in order to stop you from calling me kacho?” Your neck snaps back to look at him, noticing Nanami’s seriousness from his side profile. 

You drop your hands to grip the end of the couch, squeezing it to calm you down. “You’ve made it very clear what kind of relationship we have. It’s inappropriate otherwise, so from your perspective, I should proceed with calling you kacho.”

“Y/N, please.” 

“Please what?” A bit of attitude left the tip of your tongue. You jump in fear. Just because you were hurt doesn’t change the fact that Nanami is still your boss. The man that signs off your hours. ”Ah, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to use that kind of tone. I just… think it’s best that we revert back to honorifics.” 

“I disagree,” Nanami hums from the kitchen. He begins to look through your spice pantry (which you were surprised he knew where to find it) and pulls out your pepper. “How spicy would you like your soup?” 

“You told me that you are my boss, and I am your assistant,” you repeated his words from the night before. “You want comradery but don’t see me as anything beyond your colleague.” You tighten your grip on your couch. “And...not so spicy, for the soup.” 

You were sick. Having to bring this conversation up once more was making you even sicker. 

“Y/N, I misspoke,” Nanami says firmly, closing the pot with a lid to allow the soup to simmer. He grabs a glass from your cupboard and goes over to pour water from the pitcher. Pouring the water generously, he makes his way over to you with a few of the pills he purchased. “Here, I have a few supplements you can take now. The painkillers will be for after you eat.” 

“I know how to take care of myself,” you murmur. Nanami takes a seat next to you, pouring the pills into one hand while carefully handing you the water in the other. Lowering your mask, you swallow the pills like morsels, and follow it with sips of water. “Feel free to go after this. Thank you for setting up the soup, I can take it from here.”

Nanami eyes your face, making you blush even more. You were thankful that you were sick, as the hue on your cheeks can be explained by your current health. Putting the cup down, you quickly busy yourself once more by taking the decorative blanket on the couch and covering yourself with it. As you did, a finger appears before your face. You halt, watching as Nanami begins to drag some sort of salve on your lips. His middle finger gently drags the petroleum-like substance against your bottom lip, before swiping the rest against your top lip. 

You could explode right then and there. Your nausea wave was a bit more intense, but more so from the intensity of Nanami’s gaze, and his touch against your chapped lips. Your heart was beating hard, and you couldn’t move. Like yesterday, you were frozen. His touch, despite his muscular stature, was gentle, soft. It felt like butter. 

“S-sorry,” Nanami immediately pulled his hand away. He quickly looks away from you, hints of pink at the edge of his cheekbones. “I overstepped. I’m very, very sorry Y/N.” 

“It’s fine,” you quickly spew, “just… wash your hands before you touch anything else or yourself. I would hate for you to get sick because of me.” 

“A-ah, right,” he concurs, quickly jogging to the kitchen to wash his hands. Drying his hands with a towel, he once again joins you on the couch. “I will admit, I didn’t just come here to care for you. I wanted us to… discuss more about our conversation the other night.” 

Here he goes. Opening a wound that is long but healed. “What else is there to talk about?” You say, coughing a bit to clear your throat. You felt light headed from how congested you are, especially since talking so much. And now, Nanami was forcing you to engage in a conversation that led to your feelings being hurt more. “We both expressed our feelings to one another, and came to the conclusion that our relationship should strictly stay as a coworker dynamic.” 

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” Nanami begins quietly. His eyes keep at your coffee table, with fingers weaving together slowly. He looks pensive, like he’s looking for the right words to say. But even within those thoughts, he was uneasy. “Hold on.” In a moment, he pulls off his sweatshirt, revealing himself in a black, skin tight shirt. This would be the first time you truly saw his physique, seeing as the shirt hugs into the dents and divots of his pecs and abs. The short sleeves give temptation to his muscular arms. His torso was enough to make any woman submissive. 

You look away, but still hold your ground, “if that is the case, then I’d like to apologize again for my feelings towards you. I’m working on letting them go so they no longer pose as a nuisance or discomfort for you. And if need be, I understand if you’d rather distant our work relationship, or transfer me back to Sales.” 

This is when Nanami faces you again, “Y/N, look at me.” 

His tone wasn’t aggressive nor strict, but you felt submissive to his request. You slowly turn, your eyes finding their way to his own. Hazel eyes bore into yours, and you noticed his bottom lip snug between his teeth. 

“That night when you confessed to me, I didn’t quite understand what it all meant for me,” Nanami begins quietly. He tightens his hold on his hands. “I’ve never really known what to do when people confess to me. But I was so used to not reciprocating those feelings that rejecting them was as easy as breathing.”

“You’re a little too good at it,” you let out, your heart jolting from the memory of the rejection. 

“And for that I apologize,” Nanami quickly spews, “not only for hurting your feelings, but for lying to you.” 

“Lying to me?” You felt your forehead going hot. “About what?” 

“About my feelings towards you,” Nanami’s tone hinted at a dash of embarrassment, “Admittedly, not even I knew I was lying to you until I finally gave it some thought.” 

You could only stare at him, trying to find some sense in his face. But as you stared at him, you noticed a break of conviction in his hazel eyes. His usual professional demeanor was absent, leaving you with a Nanami you’ve never met before. His confidence wavers, and before you was a red-faced, shy man. 

“Kento,” you begin, causing him to jump from his first name leaving your tongue. “I’d feel worse if you’re feigning liking me for the sake of making up with me. I told you, it is my fault for liking you.” 

“If you’re taking fault for that,” Nanami begins, his eyes diverting away from you, “then it is also your fault for making me like you back.” 

Huh? You felt hot, cold, and dizzy. His words were nauseating, and you were confident you were green in the face. Your hands and arms shake with nerves, goosebumps ornate all over your body. Before you could even utter another word, you feel yourself going faint. 

“Y/N?” Your name sounded distant. Before you knew it, your eyes flutter shut, pitch black surrounding you. 

Taglist:

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn

@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw @ffyona1214 @phantombaby @evangel44xxcds

@ukiyodestiny @jasminelee324 @eurydxceorphxus @moonlightazriel @s3rp3ntsssc0ve

@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro @ayesayman @starry-eyed--dreamer

[cowboykento]

warnings: weed, lots of smoochin', things get a little hot and heavy, mentions of and allusions to sex, but nothing beyond him rubbing you through your shorts, fem!reader, not proofread

smoking with higuruma hiromi on the balcony of his apartment is a dream. the twinkle of the city lights is almost mesmerizing as the smoke leaves your lips, your brain feeling more syrupy by the second.

you're basically sitting on his lap since he's pulled your legs to rest over his and his arm around your shoulders. the summer evening is warm, but pleasant now that the sun has set.

you admire hiromi's side profile as he breathes out a cloud of smoke. he's as gorgeous as ever, and you can't help but smile a bit as your eyes slowly follow every curve and line of his handsome face.

"is there something on my face, sweetheart?" hiromi asks, startling you out of your daydreaming.

your eyes find his, and your smile grows when you see the gentle expression on his face.

"no," you reply, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "you're just so handsome, 'romi. just gorgeous."

hiromi snubs out the joint so he has a free hand to hold the side of your face when he pulls you in for a kiss. it's all love—slow, sensual, a little bit hungry—and you feel like you're in heaven.

he swipes his tongue across your lips and you let him in, let him pull you even closer. you rest one of your hands on his chest and thread the other through his thick black hair. you tug at the roots gently and hiromi groans into your mouth and now you're certain this must be heaven.

hiromi chases your lips for one more quick peck when you pull away to catch your breath, and you giggle at how adorable your fiancé is.

"love you so much, baby," he breathes with a blissful smile on his face, pulling you all the way onto his lap.

you hold his face with both hands now, taking a moment to admire him, "i love you too, handsome." you kiss his nose softly before resting your forehead against his, noses against each other. "love spending time with you, love kissing you, love ..." you pause, heat rising to your cheeks when your thoughts turn dirty. "i love everything about you, hiromi.

he pulls back with a grin, "yeah, baby? what else do you love? what were you thinking about?"

sometimes you hate how well your lover knows you, "don't tease me, hiromi, you know what i was thinking about," you pout.

he gives your lips a quick kiss, "c'mon pretty girl, just tell me what was on your mind. who knows, maybe i can make your dreams a reality."

your cheeks really heat up now, but you're so undeniably turned on by the way hiromi is devouring you with his eyes. although, you're doing the exact same thing—imagining him doing what he says he might, how sexy he looks with his hair a little messy and his shirt halfway unbuttoned.

"was thinking about how good you fuck me," you admit, looking at him through your eyelashes.

he smirks before his lips find your neck, kissing and sucking softly, "i know, baby. i was thinking about the same thing." his hands travel up from your hips, slipping under your shirt until his hands rest just below your breasts. "will you let me show you how much i love it? how much i love you?"

you arch into his touch as his lips move along every inch of your neck and your chest, mouthing over the curve of your breasts that are available in the top you're wearing.

"yes," you breathe softly, "please show me, hiromi."

he takes his lips away from your chest to kiss your lips again, deep and passionate and eager. his hands, however, travel back down your body, his thumb quickly finding your clit even through your thin shorts, forcing a moan to spill from your lips.

"good answer, pretty baby," he kisses you one more time. "gonna make you feel so good, just like you deserve, angel."

sorry to cut it off right before the real smut but not really that sorry

jjk masterlist

[thecordelialetters]

The Bionic and the Ballerina

Chase Davenport x fem!reader

wc: 2,495

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4

An exchange student comes to mission creek to do 3 things: pass highschool, dance, and fit in. But when a certain bionic boy comes into her life she realizes that maybe her dreams just got a little bit bigger.

It’s been a week since the bionic siblings began living like regular teenagers—going to school, getting cell phones, and attending various events. They’ve mostly adjusted to socializing with their peers and trying to blend in. Each sibling has faced their own set of typical teenage challenges, from first dances and forgotten homework to pep rallies. But aside from Bree, their experiences with romance have been a bit lacking

This morning Bree rushed in the main doors almost knocking Leo over in the process. "Guys guess what ! I head there's a new exchange student from the France who’s here for the next 3 years. I've heard she super popular already and she just started." Bree jumped up and down excited for the potential to have a new friend. It was hard for her to make good friends after growing up in a lab with only boys. But a new person meant someone who had yet to figure out her quirks and weird family, that meant a possibility they could be friends.

Leo stood straight after brushing himself off. "Yeah I saw her in my art class. She's pretty and nice. She even told Trent off for knocking my books over. Oh there she is!" He waved his hands frantically trying to signal the new girl down. Chase turned around to see the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. You were beaming at the siblings, bouncing your way over in a short white sundress paired with a light pink cardigan. Two red bows adored the sides of your braids and your pink lips moved in slow motion. Chase's hand instantly began to sweat. Even since the Danielle incident he's been hesitant about approaching girls. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested more so the other way around. Although the confident front he put up, Chase felt he lacked the charisma and social skills compared to Adam and Bree.

Your voice rang out like a soft symphony, your french accent sounded like luxury in his ear. You started talking more but he blanked on what you were saying, too focused on the way your smile looked. Until a big hand punched him in the gut making him lurch forward. "Dude she asked your name." Adams chuckled.

You gasped and put your hands on his shoulders trying to comfort him. "Are you okay?" One of your perfectly manicured hands ran down his chest while the other patted his back to help him stand back up.

"Yep this is a pretty much everyday occurrence," He replied. Chase turned a deep red, he just met this girl and already his family is trying to embarrass him. "Hey don't worry about it, I grew up on a farm with 5 older brothers. You had to endure to survive." You laughed before introducing yourself. "Im (y/n) I just moved here. Leo says I have a lot of classes with you."

“Yeah dude she’s super smart! You guys have the same schedule.”

“ I’m a bit of a smart guy myself , I could help you out sometime,” Leo flirted, waking in front of Chase.

“That’s awfully nice I might have to take on the offer one day! But I better start heading to chemistry, don’t want to be late.” You chuckled. You were thankful for Leo’s directness but you didn’t come all the way here for romance. “I’ll walk with you!” Chase pushed Leo aside sending him tumbling into the lockers. “In fact I’ll escort you to all your classes.” He held out his arm.

You blushed and looped your through his, shocking him and his family. “That’s very kind of you Chase I’d be happy to be your partner for the day.” He beamed back at you. The two of you walked off leaving the rest of the Davenports in awe. "No way that just happened." Leo managed to say through a dropped jaw. "Maybe the guys in her hometown are really ugly." Bree determined. With a hum of approvals the group split to attend the rest of their classes. Meanwhile Chase and you were having a great time. Since no one wanted to parter or sit with the know-it-all teacher pet, you could hang out with Chase the whole day. The two of you developed a bond during these cruel morning hours. Chase found you to be a beautiful girl inside and out. You never laughed at or ridiculed him for odd tendencies and intelligence. In fact you were in awe of him. The way your big doe eyes stared him over his shoulder in chemistry while he was showing you how to do the lab, and then praising him for being so smart, really fed his ego. Compared to his siblings who made fun of him for his excitement, you encouraged it. The two of you came stumbling into the lunch room, once again arm in arm laughing about a cringy joke Chase made. "So a neutron walks into a bar, and asks the man ar the counter how much for a beer?"

Chase waved his arm as if to say ta da "He says for you no charge!"

He threw his head back laughing at his own joke while you chuckled next to him. Leo walked up to you, "He boring you yet? You don't have to be nice to him."

Chase glared at Leo. Typical his family would try to drive away the one nice thing in his life. But you weren't the kind of person who would be swayed so easily. "As a matter of fact Leo, he has been the most welcoming and I thoroughly enjoyed our time today." You sat down at the table next to Bree. Chase smirked back at Leo become taking the seat next to you.

In one swift motion you lifted out your lunchbox and with a thud hit the table. Bree looked at your lunch in shock "Dang girl, you got bricks in there?" She lifted it up with one hand slowly. You laughed, it did seem excessive. "No just a lot of food and snacks, I have to maintaining my food intake for training." You poped opened the lid and it was filled with healthy greens, carrots, rice, chicken and fruits.

"Training?" Adam questioned. "Hey maybe she's like us-" Before Adam could revel anymore Chase quickly interrupted, glaring at him before saying "Training for what?"

You looked at him with half a peach stuff in your mouth. "Fwor danch" Chase laughed at your cute face and moved to wipe some juice on your cheek with his thumb. You quickly swallowed your fruit, "For dance, I'm a ballerina. I train in the morning and everyday afterschool so I need to eat all this food."

You pulled another little baggie out of your backpack. "Dont tell me you have more food." Bree said. "Yes but this isn't for me." You opened the baggie to reveal a cupcake. It was chocolate with marshmallow fluff on top and a kit kat sticking out of it.

You pushed your hands to Chase, "It's for you, thank you for helping me today." Chase gently picked up the cupcake from your hands, "Wow Thank you (y/n)." Leo snapped out of his daze before whispering to Adam "We must be in an alternate reality because no way that just happened." Chase savored the taste of the cupcake you so graciously gave him. It tasted so rich and sweet. As he bit into it he imagined you in the kitchen making it. Maybe you wore a nice white apron with hearts on it with your hair tied in a messy bun. Your kitchen probably looked straight out of a cottage, filled with your garden goods and the smell of fresh pastries in the air. You noticed Chase had gotten a little of the marshmallow fluff on the edge of his lips and reached out with your pointed finger to wipe it off. The bionic sibs watched you slowly wipe the fluff before bringing it to your mouth, licking the white cream off. You looked around the table finding them staring at you before shrugging it off. After school, you were at your locker packing up your books to go home when you felt a hand on your shoulder. Whipping around you came face to face with Chase. He looked a bit nervous rubbing his neck and looking away from you. "Hey I had a lot of fun today, would you maybe...want to come over? I know our history test is coming up and since you new I'd be a good way to study." Chase braced himself for rejecting. Even though he thought the two of you connected, a small part of him expected you to laugh in his face and never talk to him again. You looked the time then at Chase. "I'd love to, but I have practice now. I'll be done around 5? I can come over after that if it's not too late?" You bit your lip looking at him.

It was hard making friends with your schedule. You were used to losing them faster than you could make them since you always had to cancel plans. But Chase was different, he was a sweet guy. "Sure Ill text you my address?" You nodded and pulled out your phone to exchange numbers. Little did you know his nosy family was right around the corner watching your exchange. The whole day they were in awe of what happened. Chase having game? Talking to a girl and she wasn’t scared away by him? They ducked behind the wall as the two of you turned to leave the school. Adam spoke up, "Oh I can't wait to mess with him tonight." Rather than let his younger brother have a chance, Adam was keen on pranking him. Bree sighed "There goes the one normal girl I was supposed to make friends with."

Chase was busying cleaning the living room making sure everything was spotless. He prepared snacks, took a shower, and wore his best plaid shirt. He wanted everything to be perfect before you came. He informed Tasha and Davenport he was bringing a girl over to study, and through wide eyes they supported him. The one road block to his study date...Adam, Bree, and Leo. "Guys this girl means a lot to me. She's funny and sweet. Thinks I'm NOT a freak. And she's the most beautiful person I've ever laid eyes on. Please I mean PLEASE. Do not do anything stupid." He looked at the group who didn't seem too convinced, "I will do everyone's homework for a week." He watched their reactions light up a bit. "Make it a month and you got a deal." They bargained. He groveled a little and shook their hands "Fine but I'm serious, no pranks, no running in, no trying to bring out Spike." The siblings nodded in agreement before separating. Chase breathed out a heavy sigh, It wasn't like he was trying to become your boyfriend right now, he just really liked you and wanted to get to know you.

In the back of his mind, he thought it was only a matter of time before someone better came up to you and would replace him. Chase wanted to make a lasting impression before that could happen, then maybe just maybe you would stick around. You arrived slightly later than promised, 5:30. You were about to knock open the door when it swung open revealing the kind boy you had met on your first day of school. "You weren't standing at the door waiting for me right?" a nervous laugh following your statement. "Im sorry I took so long but practice ran a bit later."

Chase grabbed your hand to lead you in, "Don't worry about it, we still got plenty of time." You smiled at him and tucked your hair behind your ear. Chase noticed he had yet to let go of your hand, but you made no indication of discomfort so he kept his hand in yours. You followed Chase through a quick tour of the house meeting Tasha who was shocked by your presence saying "Wow, you're super pretty. Omg you're the girl Chase was talking about! I'm so excited we can start having girls' days with Bree and-" before she could embarrass him anymore you were pulled away back to the living room. The two of you spread out your work and began studying. Out of the corner of your eye, you couldn't help but stare at Chase. He was so handsome to you, his olive skin and beauty marks combined with his beaming smile when he talked about his interests. The beating within your chest seemed to quicken and the heat rushed to the apples of your cheeks when he caught your gaze. "Sorry." You said.

"For staring. You're just... I think you're beautiful." Chase looked down. He wasn't used to compliments. He also used to think beautiful was only for girls. But your sincerity and the way you spoke made him feel different about the word. A few hours into studying the American Revolution your head was starting to feel heavy swarming with information. You plopped your forehead on Chase's sturdy shoulder and closed your eyes. "If I read any more words my brain is going to explore." A hand reached to pat your head. Chase could smell your expensive perfume on your, the scent of roses and books invaded his heightened senses. He closed his eyes as well and inhaled deeply. The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes simply enjoying the contact. In the kitchen 3 sets of eyes could be seen watching the new friends. "What are they doing?" Bree questioned. They've been watching for a while but now it seemed the pair was just silent. "I think they're sleeping? Cuddling?" Leo commented. You made the first move to lift your head off of Chase's shoulder. "Sorry I didn't mean to doze off there, you're pretty comfy." Chase laughed, "Don't worry about it. It's getting late." You got up and gathered your stuff. Chase handed you your textbook and savored the feeling of your hand reaching his. Your skin was soft and smooth, he wanted to be able to hold it but it was too soon for that. He stopped you before you reached the door. "Hey let me walk you home, where do you live?" You gazed into his hazel eyes, the boy was a gentleman you had to give it to him. "Don't worry about it! I live 2 minutes away on my bike. It's not far." You proceeded to wrap your arms around his neck and planted a kiss on the cheek leaving a light pink mark. "Thank you for today and helping me. I'll see you tomorrow, Chase." Leaving him frozen you walked out of the Davenport residence with a permanent smile and and eagerness for the next day.

Authors Note: I couldn't help myself. I've been reading soo many fanfics that I needed to write my own Chase one. I know this start is super sappy but I plan to continue this and follow along the show more. Don't worry I haven't given up on my Five fics Im rewatching the seasons to get a jump start on those.

[hazbinshusk]

husk x fem!reader (called 'my girl' by husk, although non-specific on body parts)

he's never been able to say 'no' to you, even when there's other people in the room. praise, light daddy kink, affection in french, and sex behind the bar. 1k words.

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

Leaning your elbows on the polished wood of the bar, you rested your chin on your hands with a smile. Husk met your eye as he turned away from the glassware to face you, sighing even as his own lips quirked up on one side in a smirk. “What are you thinkin’?”

“Me? Nothing at all,” you replied, faux-innocently. “I’m just looking for a refill.”

“Uh-huh,” he replied dryly, reaching for the cocktail shaker. “I know that look, doll.”

Your smile widened despite your attempt at nonchalance, and you bit your lip. “I just thought you might be lonely over here is all.”

“So, you ditched the movie night just to say ‘hello’?” he asked, nodding over to where the rest of the hotel residents sat in front of the TV. It was the latest in a long line of activities designed to build comradery among the staff and guests.

“Maybe.”

“I ever tell you that you can’t lie for shit?”

You snickered, accepting the drink he slid your way. “Okay, so maybe I had a thought.”

“Dangerous.”

“Wanna get out of here?” you asked.

Husk groaned softly at the suggestive tone in your voice. “You know I want to, sweetness. But I can’t leave ‘til the last guest does. Boss’s orders.”

“But Alastor isn’t even here,” you pointed out with a pout. There was no way the radio demon could have been convinced to spend an evening in front of a television screen.

Husk grimaced apologetically, his claws ghosting against the base of his throat for a moment. “Not how it works, doll.”

You sighed, downing your drink and setting the glass back on the bar. You reached across the bar to rub your fingers through the soft fur on his cheek, smiling as he leaned into the touch, his eyes closing for a moment.

Husk gave you a small, wistful smile as you withdrew and turned away again. He jumped, letting out a small ‘mrrp’ of surprise as you rounded the bar instead of returning to the others.

“What’re you doin’?”

“Keeping you company,” you told him with an innocent shrug. Husk’s eyes widened, his ears folding back as you pressed a hand up against his crotch. You felt him twitch under your palm. “I’ve missed you today, daddy.”

“Oh, you are evil,” he muttered, casting a nervous glance over at the others.

“Please?” you drew out the word with an enticing smile, your other hand scratching through the downy fur below his navel.

Husk shuddered, his head falling forward against your shoulder. Your smile widened and heat rose in a shiver up your back as you felt his lips and the rough slide of his tongue against your collarbone. His hands took hold of your hips, his ear twitching as your exhale tickled it.

“You’re gonna be nice and quiet for me, right doll?” he asked, his voice deliciously rough as a soft, steady purr reverberated through his chest. You nodded, and his smirk widened, his teeth glinting in the bar light. “That’s my good girl.”

***

You bit back a moan as Husk pressed himself into you at an agonizingly slow pace, the two of you exhaling together as he bottomed out. He withdrew just as slowly, the barbs along the length of his cock making you shudder. His lips dusted over your back, dulled by the fabric of your shirt, his claws pricking at your waist.

He had you bent over the bar, your fingers curled white-knuckled around the edge of the counter. You rocked forward with each gentle, torturous thrust of his hips into your ass, listening to the quiet hums of pleasure he made each time you tightened around him.

“You’re doin’ so good for me, baby,” he murmured, trailing claws down along your thigh. “Such a good girl…”

You whimpered, head falling against your arms as your back arched.

“No, no, no, c’mon kitten,” he whispered, hands tightening as they found your hips. “Eyes up. Don’t want us getting caught, do you?”

You shook your head, a moan catching in your throat as he thrust into you harder than before.

“You sure?” he teased quietly, leaning over you so his breath tickled the back of your neck. “You sure you’re not gettin’ all hot just thinkin’ about gettin’ caught?”

You whined, slapping a hand over your mouth as you rocked your hips back into his.

Husk chuckled in the back of his throat, sliding one hand up under your shirt to slide his claws along the small of your back. “That’s my filthy girl.”

“Fuck, Husk…” you moaned into your palm, eyes rolling back as the bartender’s cock brushed up against that sweet spot inside you. Your thighs were beginning to shake, and you could feel the inside of them growing slick with your own arousal. “Please…”

Husk hummed, his lips touching the nape of your neck. “You wanna cum, baby?”

You nodded eagerly, your brow furrowed with the struggle to keep quiet.

His teeth sunk gently into your skin before he lathed the mark with his tongue. “Go ahead, sweetness. I’ve got you.”

You bit down on your hand as you came, eyes squeezed closed. Husk groaned low in his throat as you tightened around him, his hips stuttering into yours as his own orgasm spilled into you.

“Fuck…” he drew out the word in a shaky whisper, his forehead pressing between your shoulder blades. You whimpered as he pulled out of your slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs. “You’re gonna be the death of me, doll.”

You hummed, light-headed, as you wiped at your thighs with a napkin and pulled your clothes back into place. “Tu me gates toujours si bien, minou.”

Husk smiled affectionately, kissing the corner of your jaw. You pulled his suspender back into place. “Seulement le meilleur pour toi, ma chérie.”

“Y’know,” Angel’s voice suddenly sounded from the other side of the room, and you jerked away from Husk. “You too are cute ‘n’ all, but if you could wrap whatever the fuck you’re doin’ up, some of us need a new drink!”

[ladyelissarose]

‘Stop Thinking!’

Miguel O’Hara x girlfriend reader

Warnings; 4K!!! NSFW, smut. Very fluffy- Like fluffy overload. Soft Miguel. I feel like he would be such a soft and sweet person while off-work. (Like look at how sweet he was with Gabriella) anyways. Enjoy y’all!


Author’s note: so this is my first time writing smut. I have no experience in this area of writing. But I wanted to try something new for y’all. So far I’ve been learning from all the amazing smut fics I’ve read. (There are some great ones out there!!) So please, I’m willing to take some word from y’all if y’all like or see something that is fixable! Likes and reblogs are much appreciated- much love y’all! message me if you’ll like to mention something in private;)




“Oh!- Miguelll. Ah! That’s tickles.”


You let out a soft giggle as Miguel laid on top of you in bed, at your shared apartment, kissing your soft stomach wherever he pleased. You both decided to take the day off, (more like you pushed him to finally agree because you saw how exhausted he was) after being stressed out and running on 24 back to back shifts all to protect the spider-universes.

Jess and Peter B. had it in their control, along with LEGO Spider-Man too, (Miguel actually trusted that poor LEGO and seemed more at peace with him along with the others than not.) Anyways, while a very attention deprived Miguel tried to shower you in his once all pent up love and touch, you were too busy still thinking and being busy.


“I wonder if Hobie is going to pull a funny prank once you get back, he hates your guts yet can never leave your lair area.”


Miguel mumbled incoherent words as his lips kissed every part of your soft tummy, your shirt now scrunched up to your neck. You were in simple panties while Miguel rested in his boxers, choosing to have less clothing between the two. You felt Miguel all over you, relaxing in his touch but thought a little more before adding,


“Baby can I babysit MayDay one day? So Peter B and you can work better together and he’s not very distracted?”

This time he let out a groan which you considered a ‘yes’.


“Oh yay!”

To that he softly bit your tummy, to which you let out a soft squeak but nonetheless put forth,

“Or maybe I’ll go on a mission with all the teens, they all seem pretty fun, especially Miles and Pavtir. Gwen gives me ‘mommers’ energy, I’ll invite her to the mall instead. ohhhh.”


 He had just left a super wet kiss in between your breasts after giving attention to them, but he replied,
“Hmm hmm amor.”
Miguel loved to hear you talk, it was no doubt that hearing your voice made his day better (especially when certain spiderlings gave him a hard time.)

But right now, he didn’t want to hear that, he just wanted to hear your soft sighs, those little hitched breaths when he kissed a certain spot. Although more than any of those, it was the whimpers and pleading cried you made for him, along with the sweet moans that were addicting and music to his ears.

Buuuuuut, you wouldn’t god damn shut up. Your mind was working to fast instead of slowing down.
“Hey Miguel, when do you think Jess will have her bab-“

Ok, he has had it, pushing his hair back with one hand he lifted up off of your for a second before stressing out his desperation,


“Por Dios amor, can you shut the hell up for one minute?”

Silence filed the room instantly, you snapped out of your chatty self and saw Miguel’s warm brown eyes hold a yearning in them, and he was breathing hard yet letting in and out slowly. You felt bad for being selfish much, and for not being able to decompress for him.

“I’m sorry Miguel.”

A pout fell on your lips which he kissed away instantly,
“It’s ok amor... I’m not mad. Just... relax.”

You nodded and he then kissed you, feeling that you might give in already, but you began to make excuses against his lips. Mumbling the words against him as he had refused to separate from your lips,
“-ut Migg-“

He pulled away with a huff and held up a very serious finger to your lips gently,
“Don’t ‘But Miggy’ me. Miguel, your boyfriend is telling you to shut up and let me love you. No more work, or nothing. All I want to hear from those pretty lips is moans and my name. Es todo, y nada mas.”


A little snicker passed your lips as you then exaggerated with heavy pants,
 “Oh yeah! Yes please! Ohh- AH MIGUELLL! Oh- fuck!!”


Miguel let out a delicious chuckle with a smirk, groaning lowly as he seated himself deep inside you, relishing in the fact of how you squeezed him so perfectly, hitting all the right spots for him. You were left breath and wordless, as his sudden act caught you off guard and now shut up. You let out a shaky breath and a small moan, trying to suppress it as he pressed in harder and held his place as he whispered to your ear,


“Wanna be quiet now? Thought you wanted to be loud? Hm queirda?”


Teasingly he dragged his fangs across your neck, placing feather light kisses behind the wet trails he left. You squeezed his broad shoulders tightly and in that moment you tried to admire his stealth and magnificence above you, but your mind went racing, and you lost yourself in his eyes as you once again went into thinking,
‘How’d his big size fit in so quickly and unexpectedly-‘


“Amor. Are you ok with this- I’m sorry if I-“

Miguel had the guiltiest frown and started to pull away, and you felt as if your air was being taken from you. How could he think he was in the wrong for absolutely praising and pleasuring you?

With grabby hands you pulled him flush against your chest as you pleaded,

“No no no! You’re ok baby, I swear.”


 His brow picked up a bit as he then asked curiously, showing how much he actually cared about ‘you’ over everything, even while still balls deep inside you,
“Then what’s wrong amor? Hm?”


His homey brown eyes bore only yours as you calmed him,
“Sorry, I was just.. lost in thought.”


 His frown was long gone as he pursed his thick lips and couldn’t help but tsk,
“You still have a question do you?”


Your cheeks burned bright red as you slowly nodded and whimpered,

“yes.”

He propped himself on his elbows to not crush you as he then threatened with a kiss to your nose,
“You have one last question to ask before I rail you until you stop thinking.”


 A breath left your chest in satisfaction as you wiggled a bit, biting down a moan from feeling him swell harder in you, and perfectly ignoring how he bit his lips hard to contain himself. You then raked your hands across his back as you perked,
“How’d you squeeze yourself so easily inside of me? When it usually takes-“

Then you took one of his hands and kissed his knuckles before continuing,
“-your fingers to warm me up?”


 Miguel let out one of his warmest smiles that had a hint of tease in it as he replied,
“Well... you were to busy thinking up here *kiss on your head* instead of thinking down here!-“


And with a quick pull back he slammed himself back into you, causing you to arch into him and this time really moan out,
“Ahhh! Oh Miiiguel.”


“Si? I’m here amor. And you-“

Another deep thrust*

“-were long ready before you even knew it.”

deep thrust*

“Oh go-“

“No amor.. just me.. Miguel. Vamos amor, say my name.”

Lust and pride burned red in his eyes as he looked down at your smaller form under his, adoring every move and sound you made, because of him.

With gentle but hard moves he thrusted into you, being the cause of your short breaths and little whimpers that he was now happy to receive and hear. Arms wrapped around him you pulled yourself up and bit onto his lips, and you left him a sweet kiss before challenging with a sultry voice,


“Make me, Miguel.”


His slower, languid movements suddenly stopped, as he watched you look up at him with a high chin. You let go of his arms and dropped yourself back down, lifting your arms above your head and resting them there. You were sure in a damn mood huh? But it only excited you and brought more to your arousal when he growled,


“Lo hare entonces.”


 Eyes now glowing red, in seconds he had one hand clasped with both of yours, fingers intertwining in a bruising grip, holding them high above your head. With his other hand, he put a soft pressure on your lower stomach, and trailed it up, expanding his fingers to get a whole feel of your skin against his. He stopped his hand right at your throat, his sweet voice betraying his sharp demeanor when he asked- of not pleaded,


“Por favor amor? Do you trust me?”


You sent him a confident smile with a verbal reply, knowing he preferred those for good confirmation,


“Yes love. I trust you.”


Fingers embracing the hold your neck gave him, he squeezed lightly, not wanting to push it too much, but it was just the right amount.

Miguel loved pushing you and trying new things, but he always did it after asking and making sure you were absolutely comfortable. If not he wouldn’t ask twice to do it or make you feel bad about not going with it.

Now your legs found place around his waist, hugging him tightly as he had pulled back and you refused him to go any further out.

But your worries about that were cut short when he began to pour his love out to you with every sharp thrust. Hitting every spot in you had you almost seeing stars, warmth seeped into you from the inside out. Low whimpers escaped his lips all while he made sure loud moans came from yours.

Also, one thing Miguel couldn’t go through this without- was the praise.

“You’re taking me so well amor, eres perfecta. All mine hm?”

A kiss to your lips he added,
“Look at you, hermosa. Tan bueno... look at me.”

You eyes had tried to flutter shut, but at his whimpering plea you couldn’t deny him. Your fucked out eyes looking into his hungry and lustful ones, you both fed off on one another, pleading for more.
 Words were almost not able to get out from how breathless he made you with every thrust. Bit with a certain one that hit you right where it made all the butterflies go all out, you did muster out,
“Y-Yes! Jus’ for you Mig- ah! Please- don’t stop!”

A heavy sigh left your lips as tears prickled in your eyes, the pleasure all too good to keep a straight face. You could feel it all building up, but it felt all too right and perfect to want to finish it and let it go so fast. And you knew Miguel felt the same when he groaned,
“Just a little longer amor, no quiero parar tampoco.”

Your legs pushed him further into you and you dug your heels into his muscled lower back, reaching up to kiss he parted lips.
 Lips then connecting he took your breath away yet provided leverage with his hard pants escaping into you. His muscles rippled under you and you could feel his every movement as he pressed himself impossibly closer to you, not getting enough of your touch or your skin against his.

A light coat of sweat covered you both at the close proximity, but neither gave a damn as you dove into the heat of this moment, embracing into this warmth and heat that was like no other. It was the kind that made you feel safe, known, belonging, cared for, and most of all.. unapologetically loved.

After every other thrust Miguel seemed to be going faster, his hand leaving your neck to use his fingers to rub against your clit, prompting you to reach your high he called his trophy.

Your moans spurred him on as you could feel that familiar and all different warmth of pleasure grow in your lower tummy. You squeezed Miguel’s hand tightly as you pleaded in between moans,
“Ah! Miguel, please.”

With a harsh but quick kiss to your lips Miguel teased,
“Please what? Qué deseas amor?”

He let out a deep groan when your walls tightened around him, making him let out a sweet low moan that was rare to get but you swallowed his every sound desperately like a drug. He smiled with his lips on yours as he asked,
“You close amor? Hm? I can feel- ahhhh.”

You’ve never heard Miguel this vocal before, and you couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t triggering something deep in you. Finding him strong in his vulnerability, as he moaned to your words,
“I’m close baby- please! F-Faster!”

Miguel then let go of your hands, and wrapped his arms around you, settling with one hand splayed on your back, and the other gripping your waist tightly, threatening to leave ‘love tattoos’. With a single kiss to you lips Miguel growled,
“Como deseas, aferrate a mi.”


 Your arms grasped tightly onto his broad shoulders, closing whatever gap was left between you two. Your cheek was pressed on his and you held his head against you possessively. 


Miguel put himself onto his knees, and laid you down while clinging onto him for life, as if you were afraid to let him go and lose everything of him. With a reassuring kiss to your head, the fight for your highs became utterly real.

With quick, deep thrusts he began to absolutely rail you, grinding onto your sweet spot with every hit, spurring you on and raising your cries for him.
“Oh Miguel! Ah! Please please- Miguel!!”

He could definitely feel how close you were to an euphoric moment, velvety walls swallowing his length and milking him for what was to come. It only encouraged him to suck up what was left of his adrenaline to sink further in and gift what he could in pleasure.


 Miguel loved you entirely, he’d kill and die for you. You had given him your heart and knew he wouldn’t screw up again, and if he did, he swore with his heart and life that he’d pay for it. In return he had finally given his to you, once he saw and knew you’d do the absolute same for him, if not more.

His life was harsh and more than occupied, he wore a mean facade 99% of the time so he wouldn’t be stepped on, but with you, he could be 100% himself, and this is who he was. A loving, self-sacrificing man, who was vulnerable and healing by giving his all to you. Showing his love endlessly by making himself yours and you his. 
 Feeling himself coming to close to his release, he let go of your waist and trailed his hand to your clit, using his fingers to press down harsh and tight circles that have you curling your toes.
“Vamos amor, come baby I’m right with you. I’m h-here.”


 His words cut short when you finally let go at his command, gushing on him as you let out a deep cry of his name and ‘I love you’s’. 
 Miguel embraced you close as he let go right after you, panting and kissing your neck as he let his cum paint inside of you, marking you once again as his. With a couple last deep thrusts, he finally came to a stop and took deep breaths in between heartfelt words.


“I.. I love you amor.. so m-much.”


You responded with a light kiss to his lips and a mumble, feeling the exhaustion slowly take over,
“I love you... more baby.”


 Miguel got up on his elbows, muttering comforting words as he slowly started to pull out, but you whined a bit and held his shoulders, a small but visible pout on your lips. He thought you were very sore after such a long and hard session, but you quickly said,
“Stay inside.. I.. I want you close.”


 Miguel smiled at you sweetly, knowing that he too would love to do the same, but you needed a refreshing bath first. So he bargained and promised,
“Why don’t we take a quick bath, then we can do that, yeah amor?”

You thought for a minute before accepting he was right, the sticky feeling in your legs showing so. The thought of having cool yet warm water embrace your growing sore body, had you ready to get up immediately.


“Ok baby, let me get up to start it-“

“No no no... let me carry you, come on.”


Like the strong man he was, he was able to sweep you up into a bridal style, carrying you gently into the bathroom as you muttered,
“Thank you..”

“Anytime amor. Sit here while I get the stuff ready.”


 He gently placed you on the sink and wrapped you with the sheet you dragged along so you wouldn’t get cold, pressing a kiss to your lips twice, he then went on to prepping your bath. 


Having memorized all the salts and bath bombs you preferred most for soreness and relaxation, Miguel efficiently and quietly placed them all into the warm water, splashing it a bit to make more bubbles (as he knew you secretly loved it passionately) 

 In peace you watched how his back muscles moved so enticingly with every thing he did. They were so big and comforting to touch.

He used his strength to take out big scary guys and protect his multiverses... but he also used them to make your bath perfect, and that thought... did warm your heart and make you fall harder for him as always.

His chiseled chest gleaming in light and in his sweat, brought you back to earth as he walked toward you with a warm smile and soft words,
“Ok mi amor, it’s ready, come on.”


 With one arm he picked you up, only confirming how tough you thought he was, and he gently and carefully placed you both in. His chest against your back he held you close, his hands never leaving your body. 


You two sat in quiet for a bit, relishing in the water and in each other, soon then Miguel asked if you were ok and not hurt at all, you responded with,
“I feel complete with you. I’m perfectly safe and happy baby.”


 With peppering kisses you two helped each other clean up, you too also asking him questions to make sure he was ok as well, and he responded assuringly,
“Never been better. Contigo estoy contento amor.”


 Little after you both were ready to hop out, as the water had cooled down. Drying off with fluffy towels, exchanging shy and loving glances at your exposed bodies made you both giggle a bit and have rosy faces, but you’ve never felt more free and safe. 


Massages were given to your sore legs and back, as Miguel rubbed on some lotion for you. You tried to do the same, but ended up being enthralled by how rock hard his abs were that you got distracted a couple of times.

So you instead helped him back by getting some fresh water and popping some fruit in his mouth, he couldn’t resist but return that favor but also steal fruity kisses. Then you two put out clean sheets, it all felt so romantic yet domestic, and beautiful combination that was so perfect. 
 Now completing his promise, the big, strong, mean and hard Miguel held puppy eyes and crawled on top of your laying form and whispered,
“Can we still...?”

“Yes baby, I haven’t changed my mind. C’mere.”


 He smiled like a dork, as he guided himself into you once again, this time he was soft yet firm, but you both sighed contentedly once he was fully inside.

Half of his weight rested on you, his legs to the side as his face came to hide in your neck, his hand finding place on your head and the other intertwined with yours. You cradled his head and kissed it sweetly,
“Goodnight baby, get some sleep.”


 Your words sounded like he was the only one going to be sleeping. Your voice sounded so alive compared to his, and he could only grumble,
“You better not be thinking. Go to sleep.”

“Miggy-“


 His head lifted to be above you as he worded seriously yet with a tease,
“Go mimis. Please amor. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

You lifted a brow and sassed,
“Promising another round sir?”


 Calling ‘sir’ had him smirk and threaten,

“More like rounds. I won’t only make your legs sore but your brain too.”

“Mmmm challenge accepted-“

He sighed a short laugh of disbelief at your still sassiness as he plopped back down into your neck.
“Mimis amor. Now.”

You were going to respond, but a sudden deep yawn came over you, and in seconds you felt extremely exhausted. Eyes closing slowly you worded lastly,
“G’night baby.. love you.”


 Miguel hummed against you, content to hear you passing out as he replied,
“Sweet dreams amor.. love you too.”


 You passed out before he even finished, he felt the deep breaths you took and how your hand went limp on his head. He smiled to himself and got comfortable, before riding his sleeping chariot alongside you.

Spanish Translations;
amor- love
Queirda- dear
Como deseas- as you wish
Es todo, y nada mas- that’s it, and nothing more
Lo hare entonces- I’ll do it then.
Aferrate a mi- Hold onto me
Vamos- come on
Contigo estoy contento- With you I’m happy
Eres perfecta- you’re perfect
Mimis- night-night

[octuscle]

Gringo Life

Carlos was breathing heavily. Today, his destiny might be decided. The savings of many years of hard work had been spent on Carlos's trip to the United States today. He was to meet the smuggler in a village not far from the border crossing. Carlos was to come without luggage, without papers. Only with the clothes on his back. Of course, that sounded strange, but Carlos did as he was told. He wore his best clothes. He had gotten himself a new hat. He looked hot. He was an alpha paisa! He would make a career for himself in the land of the gringos.

At the agreed meeting point, a man was standing next to a surprisingly clean new pickup. He looked like something out of a bad college jock comedy. Stars and Stripes tank top over a muscular, tanned torso. The buzz cut hidden under an upturned cap, powerful legs in tight jeans that also accentuated an impressive bulge at the crotch. Feet in dusty biker boots. He spat a bit of chewing tobacco on the street. “Carlos?” he asked. Carlos nodded with a dry mouth. “Good, then let's go.” With the little English he knew, Carlos asked where he should hide in this car. Probably not in the open loading area. The guy laughed and said that Carlos had booked a first-class ticket. You don't hide with this ticket. With this ticket, you drive the car into a better life yourself. He threw the car keys to Carlos and went to the passenger door. “Are you serious?” Carlos asked. He was already much more fluent than a few minutes ago. “You drive, I choose the music. By the way, I'm Zack!” Carlos climbed into the car. He had never sat in such a big and new and expensive car, let alone driven it. “You know how to drive an automatic, bro?” Zack asked. Carlos shook his head. “You'll learn!”

It was hot. Zack had turned off the air conditioning and rolled up the windows. Carlos had no idea which buttons to press to change that. He didn't want to ask Zack. Zack had turned up the music loud and was enthusiastically singing along to songs Carlos didn't know. He was sweating. He ran his hand over his neck. His mullet was soaked in sweat! “Coke?” Zack asked, opening what was obviously a cooled compartment in the center armrest. ‘Holy cow, dude! You're like, a total lifesaver! Thank you, fam!’ Carlos replied. With a heavy Spanish accent. But in fluent English!

“12 kilometers to the border” was written on a sign. Damn metric system, Carlos thought to himself. How many miles was that now? 10? Or more like 20? He drummed on the steering wheel to the beat of Chris Young's ‘Young Love & Saturday Nights.’ The muscles in his forearms twitched, making his tattoos dance. Zack opened the windows. The wind blew up Carlos' cut-off tank top. It felt damn good on his sweaty skin. At the end of the road, the border station appeared. Carlos took a deep breath. He slowed down. He rolled up to the Mexican border guard's hut. Zack handed Carlos two passports, which Carlos passed on. The officer only glanced through the window. He had to stand on tiptoe to see not only Carlos but also Zack in the big car. He stamped both passports and wished them a safe journey. Carlos breathed a sigh of relief. Although he knew that leaving Mexico was the easy part. Now came the entry into the USA. The officer could be a brother of Zack. Muscular, short-cropped hair, a tight, perfectly fitting uniform. He bared two rows of immaculate Hollywood-white teeth. “Welcome back to the USA!” he said as Carlos handed him the two passports. “What was the reason for your stay in Mexico?” “We were there to get wasted and hook up, y'all! Get ready for some wild times!” said Zack. The officer said that was indeed the best thing about Latinos. “Which one of you is Charles?” Silence… Zack nudged Carlos in the side. Carlos jumped and said, “My friends call me Chuck, Officer!” Zack grinned. The border guard looked at Carlos and then at the passport. Then he asked Carlos to take off his hat. Shit, the hat, Carlos thought. Of course, with it he looked like a wetback. He felt for the hat. There was no hat. He took off his trucker cap. His long blond hair fell into his face. He pushed it back. The border guard grinned and said that with short hair, Chuck would look less like a girl. He stamped the two passports and handed them back to Chuck in the car.

“So, what did I tell you?” said Zack. “Easier than stealing candy from a baby.” Chuck replied that he had obviously lost the bet. He wouldn't have believed in his life that the guy wasn't checking the back of the pickup. There were six kegs of the finest smuggled tequila rocking on the truck bed. “Dude,” Zack said. “Didn't you see the way the officer was staring at you? If you had told him you had the tequila on the truck bed, he would have let us through. The main thing is that you smile at him once.” Chuck kneaded the bulge in his torn jeans. Hell yes, the officer had been hot. But the load of his balls was reserved for Zack today. He had lost a bet, so Zack was allowed to suck him off in the repair shop. Chuck could only hope that the border guard was back on duty on the next trip to Mexico.

Chuck and Zack had been best bros since they first got kicked out of college together for drug smuggling. Behind the facade of the auto repair shop, they smuggled various things across the border. In both directions. It was lucrative. And each time they bet on whether they'd get caught or not. The loser had to empty his balls into one of the other's holes. They were rarely caught. For some reason, Chuck spoke fluent gutter Spanish like a construction worker. He didn't know when or where he'd learned it himself. That usually helped with problems at the border. And if that wasn't enough, a blowjob had been enough to get him out. Life was great.

Pics by @ki-kink

[stanfanfiction]

Taste of You - Ken / fem! Reader fanfic - PART TWO

Edit: multiple parts have been uploaded and can be found on my pinned Masterlist on my profile :)

Tags/ warnings: 18+ ONLY / virgin Ken / oral (f and m receiving) / lots of fluff and horny angst / bashful Ken / first time sex / Ken being confused and adorable and hot / slow burn / smut / praise k!nk

Ken stared at you, nodding slightly, but his nerves seemed to still get the better of him at your soft command to “get in the bed.” You touched his cheek gently. He hummed happily, nuzzling his cheekbone into your palm, eyes twinkling, still looking at you, enjoying being treated so gently.

“What is it, Ken?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathed in, and brought a hand up to make sure your hand stayed against his cheek. He shrugged the tiniest bit, glancing away when he opened his eyes again. “I, well, I thought I knew enough….to…I wanted to…impress you.”

Any shred of his forced “cool” demeanor completely gone, you smiled at him, small and quiet. “You do impress me, Ken.”

He stared. “Don’t lie to me. Please,” he whispered, sounding choked up.

You shook your head. “I’m not. I won’t.” You get why Ken might not have the best self esteem, especially considering his kind of forced himbo status since his “birth” into the world and considering how, reading through the lines based on what Ken had told you, that all of the Kens back in Barbieland held the same level of intellect. So you got why he would, here with you in your world, definitely feel overwhelmed and possibly not the brightest.

Ken glanced down at himself again, still holding your palm to his cheek. “You promise?”

“Ken, everyone has to learn this kind of thing this way, and have someone show them.”

He stood a little straighter then. “Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm.” You slowly reached your free hand towards his cock, which did somehow resemble a gorgeously huge, fake looking sex toy you would get at a shop. But then, he WAS technically a doll…somehow…even here, in your world..you stopped thinking too hard about it as you wrapped your hand softly around the base of him, not wanting to move too fast, making sure he felt comfortable with everything. He inhaled sharply as you applied pressure with your hand, although not moving it yet.

“Is this okay, Ken?” You whispered.

He continued to stare at your hand wrapped around him as you kept a steady grip on his shaft, gently gliding up to his tip. As you circled your thumb around his crown, he let out the most gorgeous shiver. The noise that escaped his lips was almost silent but made you suddenly desperate to hear more, hear him louder.

“How is this?” You asked, thumb continuing to rub on him.

He exhaled loudly, his hand gripping the your one that he had been holding to his face by the wrist and squeezing, almost in pulses, unintentionally in time with the bolts of pleasure he was feeling as you touched him.

“This is…it’s good. Really,” he swallowed, “really good.” He shuddered again, and you knew you had to get him on the bed and start to have your way with him already.

“Ken, can I keep doing this to you? But, on the bed?”

He finally looked back up into your eyes. His pupils were huge, and he breathed through his mouth - god, how the fuck were you so attracted to his mouth now, and thinking of the things you would teach him to do with it.

“Mmmhmm,” he replied, short, simple. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just lie back, get comfortable.” You removed your hand from his groin, and he moaned in disappointment. “I’ll start again, once you’re..” you nodded to the bed directly behind you. He walked to where you had directed, not letting go of your wrist, and sat down, staring at you expectedly. You felt like you should have been frustrated but somehow every moment of this was just blissful, quiet, mesmerizing. Watching him was *truly* mesmerizing.

“Okay, get further up the bed. Lay back for me.”

He did as you asked, still not letting go of your wrist, thus pulling you up towards the headboard with him. It was as if he was afraid you would leave if he let you go.

“Good Ken,” you said, not really thinking through your words until you heard him breathe in sharply again. Oohhhh….of course he would have a praise kink. And of course he wouldn’t even known what a *kink* is yet, you thought.

His eyes trained on you every moment, you straddled him slowly. His gaze flickered up to your face, your lips, down to your legs suddenly encasing his hips, back to your eyes, then your hand as you set it firmly onto his muscled chest.

“I’m going to need this hand back,” you said, gesturing to your imprisoned wrist.

Ken shook his head. You bit back a giggle. “Why, Ken?”

“I don’t want to,” he said simply, not forced or dominant, just…an answer.

“It’ll be easier to make you feel good if you do.”

He paused, then using that same wrist, pulled you down towards him. You were a bit shorter than he was, so even with your hips at the same distance as his, your face barely hovered over his head as you were forced to lean over him, your free hand supporting you still ground into his chest. You weren’t sure what it was he needed, but the tension between you was so thick -

Ken reached his free hand up to tangle in your hair, lifting his head up to suck your lips into his. A moan escaped you effortlessly as he nipped and pulled on your mouth. As you gently dug your nails into his chest, his hips bucked, unexpectedly for the both of you. His head fell back immediately and you were now beginning to become slightly annoyed that he didn’t know what he was doing, because he bare cock stabbing into your panties just then made you want to ride him, hard and NOW. He gasped at the same time you did, staring up at the ceiling as in disbelief.

“THIS is why I need both my hands, Ken,” you said, your voice firm now. He looked at you, his body stiff, chest heaving.

“If you don’t like anything, literally anything at all, tell me. I will stop.” You stared back at him, and saw in his eyes that he believed you. “I promise.”

He finally released your wrist. Somehow the loss of his grip actually made you sad for a moment. You cursed yourself in your head then sat back up, moving your hips down a bit so his groin was now fully exposed to you. Your core sat on his thighs, his thick muscular, dear fucking god I bet he will be able to fuck like a stud, between those thighs and those abs and - you forced yourself to focus, Ken lying motionless beneath you and staring. The guy never seemed to stop staring.

You breathed in and wrapped both of your hands around his cock, firmly. He moaned loudly, head falling back into the pillows, and you decided it was best to just keep moving because if you asked him if he was okay every time you made a move, this would probably last days…not that it would be a bad thing, but…

You began stroking him up and down, making sure to squeeze a little more at the tip and rub your thumb around it before going back down like he seemed to enjoy earlier. And he was very much enjoying it. He grasped the covers beneath him, eyes squeezed shut, moaning loudly at every sensation. His breathing became so rapid you were *almost* worried he was going to hurt himself.

“Is this good, Ken?” You asked, not stopping your movements.

“Ahhmmm..mmhmm…I..AHH!” He sputtered his words, and you felt even more heat grow in your core, watching this man be absolutely destroyed by your touch. His body shivered deliciously, his muscles flexing every time he tensed.

You leaned over without announcement, taking his tip into your mouth and moving it in rhythm with your hands. The noise he made…dear. Fucking. God. He looked down at you now, his eyes wide, his legs trembling a little.

You smiled, more to yourself than to him, as you pushed as much of him into your mouth as you could handle. Ken made a sobbing noise and gripped your hair tightly in both hands. You knew he didn’t intend to, but he was actually pulling a little too hard, and you discovered it turned you on more. You began sucking him a little faster, taking breaks to suck and lick only his tip, then going back down as far to his base as you could muster.

“I…fuck…Y/n…I can’t -“

You sat up, releasing his member from your lips, but still holding him with one hand. You actually felt concerned. “Are you okay?”

“I need…I can’t…breathe.”

You climbed back up closer to him, hovering over his torso, taking his face in both of your hands. His pupils were fully blown, his hair messy from tossing it back and forth on the pillows, and his entire body was flushed. He looked like he had just been fucked out of his mind. Your fingers on his cheeks seemed to soothe him, and again he reached a hand up to hold one of your hands and cradle it as he leaned into your palm.

“Are you okay, Ken?”

His eyes closed, he hummed an answer that sounded winded but content.

“What do you need?” you asked.

“Mmmmmm. Just you.” He sounded almost drugged, smiling and turning his face to plant kisses into your palm.

“Do you not want me to finish?”

“Finish what?”

Holy shit. He didn’t even know what a climax was. You were dumbfounded for just a moment, not knowing what to say. He helped snap you out of it.

“Why aren’t you undressed, y/a?” The sudden realization dawned on him, and he leaned up onto his elbows, you moving back a little to avoid him literally smashing his face into yours.

“I, uhh…was wanting to focus on your first.”

He cocked his head. “But in the movie -“

“Yes, I know, they were both not wearing clothes.”

“Do you dislike not wearing clothes?”

His desire to discover an answer was - why did everything he was doing right now make you want to fuck him more.

“Oh!” He sat up more, face bright with a new realization, and now you fully straddled his lap as his hands came up to wrap around your waist, almost as if a seatbelt to keep you safe. “Is it because I’m supposed to undress you? Like how you undressed me?”

You didn’t know why you kept losing your words tonight, but now it was fucking happening again.

You were taken off guard as he wrapped his hands around your small nightly, pulling it off in one easy, swift motion. He smiled at your proudly, and you just stared at him in disbelief, until he glanced down and saw your breasts. Then his entire face became entranced. You didn’t realize you were covering yourself with your hands until you spoke.

“Now I KNOW you’ve seen this. These were aalll over that movie.”

“Yes, but those weren’t yours.” He reached up and pulled your arms away easily, gazing at you as if opening a fascinating book for the first time. You held your breath as he held you open for him, his lips parting slightly as if in a trance. He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth without warning, and you caught yourself pulling back from the sudden touch. Ken seemed to sense that you weren’t saying “no” as much as you were saying, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting that,” and he placed both large hands onto your back and he easily pulled you into him again, this time his lips latching tightly onto your nipple.

Now it was your turn to shudder. He sucked gently and hearing your moan, pulled you between his lips a little harder. You exhaled loudly when his tongue swept over it, and he hummed contentedly, continuing his exploration of your nub for awhile longer. You placed your hands on his shoulders, not needing to balance yourself but wanting to touch him as he held you firmly in place with his own hands, pressing harder into your back so you were easier to suck on, to take more of your breast into his mouth. You bucked when he bit down, gently, but still without expectation, and he grunted when your clothed vulva once again pressed against his naked cock.

He pulled away, looking up at you. Now YOU were flushed and heaving and…all over a goddamn nipple? Fuck. What was happening.

You looked at him, suddenly feeling a little self conscious again. “Hi,” you whispered.

He beamed at you in adoration. “I made you feel good, too?”

You exhaled and smiled, laughing a soft, breathy giggle. “Yes, Ken.”

“I’m good at this now?”

You brought your hands up to run your fingers along the back of his neck, and his expression let you know this was another new sensation he hadn’t experienced before. “You are very good at this, Ken.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, sighing, holding you close to him. Honestly, you were thankful for this moment, you needed a breather. You stayed like this until he pulled back, once again looking confused. Your stomach flipped. Oh no, what this time?

“The man went off screen to go down on the woman, too. Like when the woman went offscreen…she was doing what you did to me?”

You realized what was about to happen and blushed so deeply you felt the heat in your cheeks literally burn. “Mmmhmm,” you got out.

He looked down at you, at your panties still covering your core. “Then it’s my turn to do that to you.” He smiled, confident he had given you the correct answer and that you would be proud of him. He reached for the tops of your panties but you stilled his hands, suddenly VERY nervous.

Ken frowned. “What is it? Are you confused like I was earlier?”

Your mind raced. Of course you had had sex before, many times, actually. But suddenly being put in a position to REALLY have to focus on literally every single detail, down to introducing this man to what a woman’s privates looked like, how to touch them, studying every sound and movement you made, and how incredibly vulnerable that made you feel…you were frozen for a moment.

Ken remained silent, contemplating what he was supposed to say. You seemed anxious like he had been earlier, so, you must have been feeling the same worries that he had, he mused. He racked his brain for a moment, then said, “If you don’t like anything, literally anything at all, tell me. I will stop.” He smiled now, obviously proud of himself for remembering what you had told him earlier. You realized he assumed that what must be said every time someone was about to give another oral sex. It must just be the “normal” thing in his mind - and he had zero idea what giving oral to you was going to be like.

You nodded slowly, and looking genuinely concerned, he began moving one hand up and down your back gently, tracing your curves with his fingers. It’s as if he knew he needed to help you relax, and his instinct this time was finally perfect. Your body became less rigid, and he moved the other hand to hold and squeeze your other breast, and you became dizzy and…just…fuck it.

You leaned into him completely, kissing his jawline, his neck, his collarbone, leaving tiny bites here and there, loving the gasps he made and how certain areas that felt particularly good made his grip on you tighten. His chest melted into yours as he kissed you greedily, hungrily, and he ran his tongue along your lips. You moaned and could tell he smiled a little, feeling proud. He knew now that you liked his tongue, a lot.

After awhile longer, he pulled back, looking back down at your panties. “Can I take these off now? Please?”

He fucking said please….

You took a deep breathe, and climbed off of his lap. He whined at the loss of contact as you reached to pull your panties off.

“No!” He started, hand reaching out. “No, that’s my job to do.”

“This isn’t like a formal thing, Ken.”

Confusion. Again.

“Just let me do it,” he pleaded, not seeming to want to understand what you had said, but literally giving you puppy dog eyes as he held the waistband of your panties in both hands now, only waiting for you to give permission. You didn’t think he really understood the concept of consent, but that he just really didn’t want to do anything to upset you.

You laid back in the bed onto your back now, and he watched every moment, the most loving look on his face. You nodded finally, taking your hands away from his, allowing him the access he craved.

He smiled as he pulled the clothing off of you, leaving you completely bare. You worked hard not to force your thighs together, just breathe, just let him see.

He didn’t say anything at first. He was still, as if working to understand, once again, something he had never seen before.

Fuck, fuck, fuck stop feeling self-conscio-

You internal scolding hushed as he gripped both of your thighs again, pulling you open. You held your arm over your mouth, trying to just be silent. You didn’t feel shame per say, but this was all such a mind-fuck and you -

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He sighed.

You looked over your arm, and he continued boring his gaze into your core. “So, so beautiful, Y/N.” One of his hands begin grazing up one of your thighs, and once again you worked to control your breathing. His fingertips ever so goddamn gently touched your clit, and you gasped, His barely-there touch was electric. “I’ve never seen anything like this before,” he cooed. “You’re incredible.”

One finger ran down your entire core, slowly, studying every little crease it could find, memorizing you. You let out a small sob yourself, just trying to get through whatever wonderful torture this was.

Ken looked back up at you. “Hey, Y/N?” You were silent, expecting him to be asking another sex question. “Y/n? Please? Will you look at me?”

You did as he asked, his stunning, chiseled body planted firmly in front of you. Oh god, the things running through your mind that could literally happen at any moment if you’d just fucking explain them to him.

“Yes, Ken?” You breathed.

“How do I make you feel good now? I…haven’t seen one…”

You nodded, working through how exactly you wanted to introduce him to this new segment. “Uhm,” you began, deciding maybe it was best if you did the touching, at the least for now.

“So, this area here,” you touched your clit with a finger, pressing on it slightly, chills running through you. Chills that Ken definitely noticed. He looked excited but focused.

“And here,” you went lower, slowly, “is the vagina.” You held your lips open a little so you could show him easier.

“Mmmhmm. Okay.” He encouraged you to go on, letting you know he was paying attention.

You decided you would stop feeling any form of embarrassment from this point forward and just force yourself to enjoy this, not think about it…

“The vagina,” you said, dipping one of your fingers into it, but didn’t continue when you heard him gasp, his eyes wide.

“So I put my fingers on your clit and in your vagina and that makes you feel good?”

“Mmmhmmm,” you replied, slowly taking your finger back out to rub your clit again.

“Okay, yeah, mmhmm I can do that.” He was talking more to himself than to you, and hurriedly moved the hand you were using to touch yourself out of his way, eager to try.

“Wait, Ken!”

He startled at your command. He looked almost incredulous, why would you stop something right when he understood?

“Listen.” You sat up now, holding his hands. “This is…there’s a LOT that goes on from this point forward.”

He nodded, listening, wrapping his hands around yours in a protective way.

“You don’t have to just use fingers.”

He nodded quickly, letting go of your hands. “Yes, I know.”

“Ken, you -“

He shushed you with his lips again, pushing you back onto the bed, his weight fulling pressing into you. You moaned, and you knew at the moment you were wet enough for anything he had to offer. He smiled again. “You took such good care of me. Let me take care of you. I know what you need now.”

He slowly began kissing down your neck, your jawline, your collarbone, mimicking the tiny nips you had given him. You closed your eyes and shivered, trusting him to just discover as he went along for now.

He tenderly kissed your breasts, your navel, your hips, holding them while he loved on you firmly, making sure you knew he wanted you to stay there.

When he got down to your core again, you opened your eyes, watching. His eyes met yours, and he smiled one more time, quiet yet confident. A single digit pressed against your clit, circling it, learning how it moved underneath his touch. You moaned softly, and that was enough for him to lower it down to your opening, holding your lips open with his other hand like you had shown him. You braced for “impact,” but all he did was trace around it, staring at it, then back at you. The almost ghost of a touch was fascinating to experience. You had never felt anyone look at you, touch you with so much love, so much care.

“Does it hurt when I put my finger in?” He asked, still circling the muscle gently.

“Mmm, uh, sometimes. If I’m not wet enough.”

He took a moment to contemplate that answer, then leaned down and placed the most delicate kiss into your folds, his touch and breath making you absolutely melt. You wrapped a hand in his hair and just basked in the moment. “What a good Ken.”

This made him even more confident, and he began kissing your core more, up and down, and honestly it felt so wonderful you didn’t want to tell him to do anything else, until his lips suddenly wrapped around your clit and sucked.

You hips bucked and your cried out, and Ken’s eyes sparkled up at yours with joy of figuring out something that *really* made you feel good, and he began lapping at it with his tongue, in the exact same order he had discovered tasing your nipple.

“Ohhh my god,” you panted, pulling his hair hard, which he seemed to love. “So good, Ken. You’re so good at - AHH! Fuck, god, you are incredible.”

Once you started almost mewling, he moved his lips down to your opening, and slowly traced his tongue around it. You were done. Your body went into alternating spasms of being limp then becoming rigid with every movement. When he stuck his tongue inside you, you basically began to sob. He hummed his approval as he licked you deeply in circles then slowly in and out, holding your legs apart because you had begun squeezing them around his head.

Finally he pulled back a little, licked up over your clit again with firm pressure, and exhaled. “Will it hurt if I put my finger in now?”

You knew you looked like a mess, and felt almost goddess-like in it. “Not at all. Please,” you pulled harder on his hair. “Please, Ken. I need it.”

“You need my finger?” You couldn’t tell if he was egging you on or if he was confirming what it was you wanted.

“Yes, you, your finger, your cock, I don’t care anymore. Please, my good boy, I just *need* it.”

Realization dawned on his face, and you cursed yourself for letting the idea of his cock get into his mind again, because even though now he finally understood what he thought he was doing when he dry humped you, you didn’t want to distract him until he had made you come. You felt insane right now.

“Oohhhhh,” he said, smiling warmly at you. “I understand.”

“MMhmmm,” you quipped, trying to to tug his head back down towards your vulva. “Please, now.”

“Fingers?”

You nodded, and he slowly pushing one of his achingly large digits into you, staring at you, making sure you seemed to feel good. You moaned loudly, opening your legs wider. Ken was hypnotized by you.

“More, please.” It was hard to comprehend the right words to get out, as you began bucking into his hand.

“More?”

“Fingers. Need two. Need you to move.”

“Two more? Or two in -“

“KEN, PLEASE!” You cried in frustration, unable to think you were so overwhelmed with sensation and desire.

Kens focus whipped back to your core, pulling out his single finger than pushing two back into you. Your groan was delicious, as was the heat surrounding his fingers now. The wetness, the warmth, the tightness of the muscle he was penetrating. He watched and felt in awe as he began moving his fingers in and out, trying to mimic the way you had been bucking into him.

“Yes, and, please,” you mewled, “curl? Like this?” You showed him two fingers through glazed eyes, curling them upward. Ken stared, determined to do what you were wanting, and copied with his fingers inside you. He did something perfectly because now your hips moved more into his touch, and he moaned as he watched your writing, moaning, all because he was making you feel good. His assault became a little faster after awhile, a little harder, testing out what limits there were, his eyes never leaving your face, your body, memorizing every movement.

"I need your lips, please," you started, then continued quickly, "fingers are good. Keep doing, ahh!!" he hit the spot really hard unexpectedly, and you felt the most amazing pleasure roll through you. "Keep doing THAT, but use your lips on my -"

Ken understood immediately, much to your surprise, but also much to your gratitude as he began sucking and licking your clit in rhythm with his fingers, and you tightened your grip in his hair.

"Please, please, Ken, don't stop," you pleaded, your climax hurriedly approaching.

Ken wanted to pull back and tell you he wouldn't stop, but decided against it, since he wanted to keep doing this to you for as long as you wanted. Your orgasm hit hard and strong, your back arching off the bed, almost screaming as he didn't let up his movements for a single second, even after your body collapsed back onto the bed and you worked to catch your breath.

"Okay, Ken, thank you - ah! oh no, please really, stop."

He stared up at you but kept going, again confused for whatever reason, wanting to make sure he was making you happy.

"Ken, it hurts now." You said, and he halted immediately. He jerked back, removing his lips and fingers from you as if he had been struck.

"I hurt you??" He looked broken.

"No!! no, no, please. Come here. Lay with me." You smiled at him, inviting him to you, and he gingerly crawled up and lay besides you, wanting to touch you so badly still, but not sure what he had done wrong.

"Mmmmm," you breathed happily into his hair, allowing yourself to relax and enjoy the post-orgasm glow. "Thank you, Ken."

He felt tense. You pulled his arm to wrap around your waist, kissing his lips, and he kissed back, still staring at you, needing an answer.

"You made me feel very, veerryy good, Ken. You got me to orgasm."

"I got you a what?”

"When a person is being pleasured, sometimes their pleasure *peaks,*" you show him using your hand, going upwards like mimicking a rollercoaster. "It feels amazing. Like an explosive amount of feeling good," she said, loving using the term he found to be the best way to describe everything tonight. "And then you get all warm and feel all glowy, and cuddly, and sleepy. Like I am right now."

“And I didn’t hurt you?”

“Oh, that’s more because after I orgasm, I’m really sensitive. So it could hurt if you keep going.”

Ken allowed his head to now relax into the pillow next to you, and he smiled. "I made you feel the best you could feel?"

"MMmmmm," you smiled, kissing the tip of his nose, your hand finding its way back into his hair.

Ken smiled, proud, and like he was going to say he loved you. Thankfully he didn't and instead said, "Did I have one of those?"

You shook your head. "Not yet. It can get kind of intense. You seemed like you needed a break."

"I don't know how it could feel better than what you did," he admitted, wrapping your free hand in one of his, kissing your palm again. He seemed to love doing that.

"It can. We can make that happen, if you like."

He smiled sleepily, even though you were pretty sure he wasn't actually tired but rather just matching your energy. "You said my cock can go into -"

"Yes," you cut him off.

"Is that how I orgasm?"

"That's one way." You snuggled your body fully into his now, your skin-to-skin contact making you more relaxed, and Ken nudged his knee in between yours.

"Can we do that next time? After I make you have an orgasm first?"

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

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Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.7 K Warnings: The angst is still angsting Prompt: Alone, desperate, lonely. How did you end up like this? How will you recover? Is recovering even possible? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it Proofread by Lovely @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 55: Noone Together

I'm mostly scared, I am mostly unprepared, I'm a mess I lost most of myself as the waves came crashing down, I'm a wreck

I've bought up all my dreams and sold off most my heart I've been lying to myself just to bury all my thoughts

-Mostly (Vian Izac)

Monday, January 10th, 1977

You looked around your trunk until you found something that would look as wizarding as possible. You didn’t want people to spare a second glance your way, so you took a cloak and a pointy hat and pocketed your money in your trousers. There weren’t many students in Diagon at this time of the year, and you did not want to look like one. 

Thankfully you hadn’t gone out with your parents that often since you moved to England and while most people knew Silas had a daughter, they had no idea how she looked. A point in your favour, you wouldn’t have to hide. 

You would have used a warming charm, but bought tea with a warming potion instead. Accidentally burning yourself with Nina’s wand was not the way you wanted to go down. You finished it at the restaurant, the lady who did Tarot readings was sitting with a young woman, probably in her late 20s, and she was reading her cards for her, although she kept looking at you as you drank your tea. Especially when you accidentally picked it up with your injured hand and cursed loud enough for her to catch it. A waiter came around, offering you some food, but you declined, you were far from feeling hungry, if anything, you were still slightly nauseated. You could have done with a drink, though. 

When you were done, you were quick to stand up and leave the inn, walking straight towards Ollivander’s. The shop was closed and you instead walked towards The Apothecary. “I think I’ve sprained my wrist,” you told the young man on the other side of the counter. He had a pair of round glasses that reminded you of James, and short, but elegantly styled hair. 

He extended his hand and you pushed your hand towards it. He adjusted his glasses and stared, moving your hand a little and then passing his wand over it. He nodded. “It seems so. How did you know it was just a sprain and not something else?” 

“I’ve gotten hurt a few times in the past months. It felt like a sprain.” 

He looked at you and smiled. He was handsome. Not nearly as handsome as either Sirius or Remus. Not even as handsome as Minho, or Tom, but he had a straight nose and a charming smile, a la Reyansh Atwal, but Caucasian. “It was a great guess,” he said as he eventually let go of your hand and carefully placed it on the counter. He turned around and started to look through his shelves. 

“Most people come here with a terrible idea of what they have. I had a person with a cold telling me they thought they had dragonpox. And one time a person who said they’d had a broken leg when they had barely a big bruise.” He pulled one of the small doors of a cabinet open and then pulled something from the inside. “Are you from around?” 

“I’ll be staying in London for a couple of days,” you said, as you stared at what he did, almost condescendingly. He seemed to have a bit of trouble while trying to find the right thing, and you had been spoiled with the very capable hands of Madam Pomfrey just weeks past.

He grabbed a thing, and with an air of triumph, turned around. “I think I might have a pixie around here moving all my stuff,” he excused. “It’s harder when you don’t have house elves for help, you know?” 

“I suppose,” you replied, not bothering to fake much interest. 

“Allow me,” he said as he pulled back his sleeves, bending them carefully and methodically. “I’m going to put this ointment on your hand.” You nodded, although you were quite sure an anti-swelling potion, like the one he had on the left side corner would have done the trick. He placed both hands around your wrist and carefully massaged it. While you stared, you could barely stop thinking of Sirius’ firm grip, or the soft way Remus would always hold your hand. 

They are happy now, you reminded yourself, together. 

“And there you go,” he said after finally pulling apart. Your hand was still sore, Pomfrey would have probably had it fixed a lot faster. 

“Thanks,” you said with a half-smile. “Can I also get a Swellendrake Draught?” 

“For your wrist? You won’t be needing that, come back tomorrow and I’ll give you another treatment with the ointment.” 

If only you had a fucking wand, you would have done it all yourself. 

“For someone else,” you lied. “And also some Warming Brew.” 

“Oh,” he adjusted his glasses. “Of course, of course. I was under the impression you were here by yourself.” 

You hummed in return, “How much?” 

You were out of his The Apothecary the second he handed over the change. Your hand was still bringing you a slight discomfort when you used it to push the door open to The Magical Menagerie. Inside you bought food and snacks to feed Reese. An old man with a strong German accent handed you your food and change with a smile and asked you about the type of owl you had. 

You lied, telling him it was a tawny owl, but that she liked fancier treats. Reese was a barn owl, not as common and especially fancy to have as a pet since they were pickier eaters (which meant more money to maintain) and they were incredibly good hunters in low light, which meant they were especially talented at delivering letters. Had you mentioned he was a melanistic barn owl, the man would have probably begged you to meet him (they were even less common and coveted since they could blend into the night almost seamlessly). 

“Well, you better take good care of her,” he said as he packed the bag of treats. “Don’t spoil her too much, either.” 

“I won’t,” you said with a smile and handed him the money. “I’m sure Selig will love these,” you said as you raised the small bag and then walked towards the door, and then as if it were an afterthought, you turned around and looked at him, “Do you happen to know at what time Ollivander’s opens?” 

“Ollivander’s?” he asked and turned to his clock. “He should be opening now, if not you can knock on his window a couple of times, sometimes he falls asleep on his desk.” 

“Thank you,” you said as you walked towards the door. 

“Kein problem, Schatz.” 

Once outside you walked towards Ollivander’s. The door was now open, and a small bell at the top rang as you walked inside. There was no one else, as you expected. And the very peculiar smell of wood and magic prickled your senses as you walked inside. Ollivander, who was looking through some boxes, turned and seemed surprised when he spotted you. 

“Daughter of Silas.” You panicked, thinking you’d have to leave and find somewhere else to stay, perhaps muggle London. Perhaps you could ask that nice girl at Daunt Books if she knew somewhere, even if you’d have to hold back on using magic almost entirely so as not to call the attention of the ministry.  He must have seen the distress in your eyes, your careful stepping back towards the door, ready to run the fuck away, again. “Worry not, Child. I do not have any political affiliations as of now. If you wish for your identity to remain undisclosed, then so shall I maintain it…” He gave you an airy look, as if to make sure you’d stay and then proceeded. “You know, I never forget a wand, and it’s a very peculiar one that you have in your pocket.” 

“It’s not mine,” you said as you pulled Nina’s wand and placed it on his counter. “That’s why I’m here, my wand broke and I need a new one.” 

“I beg to differ,” he said simply, as he stared at Nina’s wand, he was twirling it in his wand, and inspecting the details on it. 

“Pardon?” you asked, confused. 

“You do not need a new one, Child. You said this one isn’t yours, and I beg to differ. Its loyalty belongs entirely to you.” 

You turned to look at him with a frown, “Impossible. I’ve tried using it and I almost got attacked by a chair.”

“You know this is a rather peculiar wand,” he said thoughtfully, almost ignoring what you said entirely. “14 and a half inches, English Oak,” and then, in a much lower tone, he added, “Thestral tail hair.” 

You frowned, “Thestral tail hair?” 

“Indeed, indeed. I too was surprised when the wand picked young and sweet Nina Blythe.” Your breath hitched in your throat when he said her name. He noticed. “That might be why it’s not working for you even though it’s yours.”

“I don’t think I followed.” 

“Thestral tail hair wands are fussy, it is said only witches and wizards who were capable of accepting dеath could use these kinds of wands. Miss Blythe was muggle-born,” he said. “But her father diеd in a car accident when she was about 4 years old, she was in the car with him then, she told me when I told her about core and its meaning. The wand seemed to love her almost instantly.” 

“Accepting dеath?” you mumbled. You didn’t want to do that, you didn’t want to accept what happened, even if it had. Even if you’d seen it, it was easier to pretend it to be just a terrible dream, to ignore it and fake it and–

“I’m afraid so,” Ollivander said. “I believe you’ve had some dreadful encounters with her lately and–” 

“I’d like to get another wand,” you interrupted him, a little rudely. 

“Another wand?”  he asked, confused. 

“Yes, this one won’t work. I’m sure.” 

He hummed at that, something that sounded a bit like he disagreed with you entirely. He picked the wand up again and looked at it closely. “No wand here will ever be as good for you as this particular one,” he said. “You know English Oak has an affinity with magic of the natural world? It is said the Great Merlin had a wand made of Oak.” 

You took a deep breath, and you tried not to grit your teeth, “My wand used to be oak.” 

“And? I believe I did not sell it to you…” 

“No,” you admitted. “We got it while travelling… It was thunderbird tail feather.” 

“Oh, she must have been absolutely delightful to work with,” he said, with a bit of sarcasm. “Did it take you long to get used to her stubbornness?” 

“She was never stubborn with me,” you said simply. 

“You must have had an excellent matching with it then,” he said with a bit of a mischievous smile. “I can assure you it will be as good– if not better with this one. Had you come here before Miss Blythe, you might have taken it yourself. I’d dare say it’s like she was made for you.” 

You looked at the wand with slight reluctance and then picked it up. You pointed at a small pencil on the table and whispered, “Wingardium Leviosa.” Rather than carefully floating as you intended for it to do, the pencil flew backwards and stabbed one of the shelves with a sharp thud. You quickly left the wand on the table again. “See?! it’s pointless.” 

Ollivander used his wand and whispered “Reparo,” allowing the shelf to restore itself and the pencil to return to its spot. “I’m afraid you have to accept what’s happened for her to work properly. But I cannot sell you another wand.” 

“Then how?” You said, slightly exasperated. 

“Sit down, and cast small spells with her. Like this one–” 

“I could have stabbed someone!” 

“Nature Magic has strong connections with emotions. Perhaps the magic is so aggressive because you feel like you need such protection.” 

You sighed, you’d come for a wand, not for therapy. 

“Fine then,” you said as you grabbed the wand, you were cross, Ollivander could tell. “I’ll see if I can get her to work.” 

“I’m certain you will.” 

You scoffed and shook your head as you walked out of the store. There was no way in hell you managed to do a Protean charm without a properly functioning wand, so you’d have to buy the enchanted items. 

There weren’t many places in which you’d be able to get such powerful and unorthodox magical things, but you had been paying attention and you had heard the whispers. You thought of it as your last resource since it was popular for being a reunion point for dark wizards, but you were running out of options. You’d have to pay a visit to Knockturn Alley. 

As you stepped out of Ollivanders, you blinked a few times and started to walk around. It was almost midday, and the streets were buzzing with witches and wizards, far more than there were earlier in the morning. You walked, accidentally bumping your shoulder with other people when you were pushed around. 

You knew Knockturn Alley was hidden, but it took you at least an hour to find it. It was still day, but the alley was dark, poorly lit and rather lonely. You saw a few Wizards walking inside a store that looked somewhat like a bar, one of them felt familiar enough, like he might have been at the Christmas Party. You turned your face and stared at the window of one of the shops. 

You had not seen the Borgin and Burkes logo at the top, since you had turned as fast as possible but you did see the small price ticket on one of the items in display. It read: Borgin and Burkes: Oddments and Artefacts. And then underneath it: Rarities of the best kind, antiques, charmed items, cursed jewellery and more.

The perfect place, you pretended to look through the window a bit more and when you made sure he was gone, you turned towards the door and walked inside. “Are you lost?” A young man asked from behind the counter, he had brown hair and a disagreeable face. 

“I’m exactly where I want to be,” you retorted. “I’m looking for an item,” you said, “Or rather two. They need to have a protean charm in between them.” 

The man nodded “Jewellery, a journal, matching skulls, a book or bottles?” 

“Journal,” you said. He pulled out a black journal, it had golden metal trims and a name engraved at the back.

“This one belongs to someone,” you complained as you handed it back to him. 

“But it has nothing written on it,” he retorted and pushed it back at you. You looked at the journal impassively and took it in your hands. You could feel the dark magic screaming inside of it, like it was imploring to be released, you placed it back on the table. “I don’t want it. Anything else?” 

The man grumbled something that you didn’t understand, took the journal, and placed it back onto his counter. Pulling out a pair of cufflinks, to which you shook your head. He rolled his eyes and walked towards the back of the store. You took the time to look through the things they had around. You knew better than to get too close to some of them, specifically the item named “Hand of Glory” which also had some kind of magic attached to it. 

You looked at it with an air of disgust before you continued walking, they had candles, some Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, which you thought would be useful so you bought two bags, and there was a massive display with jewellery too. You leaned in closer, and without touching anything, started to read the label: A ring of oblivion (whoever wore it would forget everything that happened while wearing it), a pair of bad luck cufflinks, awfully similar to the ones the man had offered earlier, a magic absorbing necklace, a hairpin that would let you change your appearance, a pair of blinding glasses (they would disappear whatever you wanted from your field of vision)– hold up. A hairpin that could change your appearance? 

You looked at it again and picked it up, moving towards one of the huge mirrors and placing it on your hair. Suddenly you weren’t you anymore, you were still a woman, your age, but you looked nothing like yourself and everything like someone you wouldn’t spare much attention to. Not ugly but not pretty either, in fact, when you removed the pin and saw yourself again, you had almost forgotten what the other face looked like. 

“Fascinating item, isn’t it?” the man asked with a smile. “And much easier than making polyjuice.” 

You nodded and then turned to him. “Did you find anything?” 

“This,” he said as he pulled out a pair of earrings. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “These were designed for listening in to conversations. You ‘accidentally’ drop one of them and you can hear what they’re saying on the other side. I assume that will satisfy your requirements of communication.” 

“It might,” You responded, “Does it work backwards? Do both of them do it?” 

“Indeed.” 

You nodded, “I’ll take them, and the Peruvian Powder and the hairpin.” 

He smiled and wrote on a small piece of paper your total amount. You paid, and walked towards the door. When you spotted the same man from earlier loitering outside of the bar, you eyed the man in the store nervously and then turned to one of his trinkets. “What is this?” you asked as you looked at a large, triangular-shaped closet. 

The man smiled and walked behind you, “Vanishing Cabinet, they’re becoming really popular lately, lots of people want them in their house in case of a Dеath Eater attack.” 

You swallowed, he was careful when he said those last few words, as if he was trying to feel out which side of the war you played on. Thankfully, if there was anything you had learned from Silas, was that to be a good politician; you’d had to lie, and you had to lie so much lately, that it came almost naturally from you. “I bet,” you said with a mischievous smile. “Does this one work?” You asked as you looked at the small chip on the side and allowed the little bit of wood to rise and then return to its place. 

The man smiled, “As a matter of fact, it does not, a Witch brought a week ago for us to fix it, but it seems someone put a course on it, dark magic, in fact.” 

“Well,” you looked over your shoulder, the man was gone. “Good luck with that, eh… Mr. Borgin?” 

“Burke,” he corrected with an askew smile. Clearly, after he made the sale, he was not in such a terrible mood. And it had been a big sale. You still had enough cash to get by, but you’d need more for the rest of the year. You took a deep breath, you’d have to go to Gringotts. You had your own vault, which was great. Unfortunately, the minute you went, your father would probably know you’d visited, so it had to be the very last thing you did. 

“Then thank you for your help, Mr. Burke.” 

“Mr. Burke was my father, call me Kieran.” 

You frowned but smiled, pulling out a bit of that charm you had used too often with adults, it wouldn’t hurt to have an ally or two in case things went awry. 

“Thank you, Kieran,” you said and then nodded at him politely, a small smile playing on your lips as you left the place. You were quick, but calm as you exited the shop, and the minute you were out of Kieran’s sight, you put on your new hairpin and mixed yourself in between the people. 

You walked back to the Inn, took the pin off before stepping inside the Leaky Cauldron and walked straight to your room. You hadn’t eaten, and frankly, you still didn’t want to eat. You walked back to the room, and Reese was by the window with a small pack of chocolates and a small note attached to them. He flew towards your place on the bed with it and took his own place on the bed. 

“Hey, little one,” you said with a smile as you brushed your hand over his head the way you knew he liked it, and pulled open one of the bags you had to give him a couple of treats. He chirped joyfully when you did, and then leaned down and pecked the letter with his beak, reminding you to open it. 

You sighed but did it, taking the note and unfolding it. 

Are they feeding you well where you are? They better be. But I know how much you love these sweets, so I stole them from Remus to send them over. I’ll check the chimney at night, I’m sure you’ll have figured out a more than clever way to keep in touch. 

Remus and Sirius are still whispering about each other, It’s like they’re scheming something, and frankly, I’ve been feeling slightly excluded. Will you tell me what happened when we find a better way to communicate? But more important than anything, HOW ARE YOU? 

Prongs xx  

You smiled and wrote a quick note telling him to clip the earring on at about 8 pm, you sent it along with a thank you for the chocolates and then (as a joke, but not actually) asked him if he had some booze. You let Reese go back to the Potters, after giving him some more treats and walked toward the fireplace to turn it on since the temperature was going out as fast as the sunlight.

Thankfully, it was a lot easier this time around, and you curled up, staring blankly at the flames for some time. You had never been this quiet, this inactive. At Hogwarts, you were always distracted by one thing or the other. At the boys’ houses, they were the ones constantly creating new games and things, or talking or telling you something, or even reminding you of homework and things you had to finish, things you had to accomplish. 

But there, alone in the warm, but still isolated floor, you didn’t have anything to do, and you didn’t want to do anything either. You tried to pick up a book from your suitcase but abandoned it a little after. You took the journal Lily had given you and wrote barely half a page when tears started to prickle your eyes and you abandoned it as well. You couldn’t listen to music, and you didn’t even feel like trying to get Nina’s wand to work, not with what it entailed. 

Yeah, avoiding your feelings allowed you to be able to sit straight and do all the things you’d done without breaking apart, but it was also stopping you from properly processing shit, and so, rather than thinking and crying or whatever, you sat, and blankly leered at the dancing golds and yellows and reds, throwing some wood to liven up the flames as you stared, sad and disoriented, until it was eight o’clock. 

You picked up the earring and put it on your ear. On your free ear, you had the crackling of fire, on the other one, you heard the wind blow, heavy and thick, the hauntingly beautiful sound you often heard when you were flying, you missed that too. 

There was a doubtful tasking on the other side, before, clear as day you heard, “Vixen?” 

“Prongs,” you said, you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips. You had been so alone all afternoon, that hearing James had filled you with joy. James, on the other hand, sounded a little cross. 

“What the fuck happened?” He asked. You heard the wind become stronger, he was probably flying further away from his house. “We were all at the party and then you go upstairs and then Sirius and Remus are banging on doors and then you’re gone. I was worried sick. They didn’t want to tell me what the fuck happened and–” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you said simply. “Sirius and I–” There was a pang in your heart when you said that as if you shouldn’t say those names together. “It was nothing,” you sighed, “but we aren’t a thing anymore.” 

“I figured out as much,” James said, still angry. “Why? I thought you loved each other. I mean didn’t the two of you fuck at the fae pool just a couple of days ago? Was it because of that? Because if you thought he was bad I’m sure he can learn and–” James was rambling. 

“It was not about that!” you said before he kept going. “And we didn’t end it because he broke my heart, it was I who broke both of ours.” You sighed. “But it is for the best–” 

“Like shit, it is for the best!” James retorted. “What happened?” 

If James didn’t know, you couldn’t out them. “It’s not my secret to tell.” 

“Vixen,” he said impatiently.

“James, if this is all you’re going to talk about–” 

“No wait!” He rushed out. “How are you?” 

“I’m fine,” you said, you were sitting on the wooden floor, looking at the fire, you hadn’t eaten, and you hadn’t even showered (you didn’t want to stop smelling the Sirius and Remus in your clothes).

You heard a hesitant sigh on the other side. “Can’t I come visit?” 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“My mom’s friend is a bit paranoid about what happened at Christmas,” you lied. How easy did the lies come to you now, one after the other, like a parade, they rolled off your tongue and sounded loud by the end of your lips, as simple as if it were truth. Suppose telling someone you didn’t love them when you both knew you did was all it took to become such a brilliant liar. 

“Do you want to talk about that?” 

You hadn’t wanted to talk about it, not even when you actually had talked about it with Remus. Rather than responding, you changed the subject, “What did you boys do today?” 

Thankfully, James knew how to take a hint –sometimes– and he thought allowing you to process things was best either way, at your own pace. “Well, we had breakfast together and did some flying afterwards. Sirius was going really fast, I think it might have been the fastest he’s ever flown. Remus kept shouting at him to stop being an idiot and slow down.” 

“We then went back inside and Remus recommended that I read a book, but I think he just wanted me to get out of the way so he could talk to Sirius again. I wrote a letter to Lily, thanking her for coming to the party yesterday and telling her you were all right. She’s also worried and wants to contact you.” 

“Tell her I’m good,” you said. “That I cannot get letters at the moment.” 

“Already have,” he sighed. “Anyway, Remus and Sirius are awfully suspicious. Sitting close and whispering about. Can you really not tell me what happened?” 

“I’m sorry,” you said. And you really were, you wanted someone to talk to about this, but as far as you knew, you were the only person who knew about Sirius’ bisexuality and among the few that knew about Remus’. “That’s got to do with something that happened between them, I cannot talk about it.” 

“But you do know what it is!” James delated. There was still wind, and it carried his voice out a little but you could still hear the intonations you were so familiar with, you knew what he meant. 

“But if you ever do find out, then they must be the ones to tell you, James.” 

He sighed in response, leaning in on his broom and banging his head against the handle. It seemed like every single person around him was sad, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He hated it. He wanted things to go back to normal, for you to be here, and for both you and Sirius to be all over each other. 

Even if he kept complaining about it, he secretly loved seeing you all happy. Even when you cuddled Moony together, invading their room, he felt it wasn’t that often that he saw Moony smile, but he was always smiling when you and Sirius were around, even when you were being annoying by asking him to read you something or convincing him to help with homework or something similar. 

“Fine, whatever,” he responded, trying not to sound too cross, he knew you mustn’t have been that well off, he could also hear your voice over the crackling of the fire, and even if you kept claiming to be alright, there was something near the end of your words, not a crack but something almost imperceptible that told him otherwise. 

He’d seen you get hit by quaffles and he’d seen you get hit by bludgers, and he’d seen you getting scratched by a werewolf. He’d seen you tired and desperately scribbling on parchment after forgetting homework. Your “All rights” had never sounded as hollow to him before. So devoid of meaning, so filled with air he was sure he could poke a hole and disinflate them entirely. 

Of course, James didn’t want that. The last thing he wanted was to push you into desperation by asking and asking questions like he used to do all the time. “Did you like the chocolate?” 

“Yeah,” you responded. “Did you get me the Booze? Will you send it over with Reese?” 

“I don’t think that’s the best idea–”  

“Oh, shut up, you’re not my mum,” you said automatically, flipping back to your old self before realising what you had said. No, James was not your mum, you didn’t have one anymore.

James hesitated, he heard the silence, the popping and hissing of the fire next to you and knew you were both thinking the same thing, he bit his lip. “I’ll get you your booze.” 

You took off the earring and promised to talk to him again tomorrow in the morning, at about 9, before the boys woke up, so they wouldn’t suspect if James went flying earlier. He could always say he had wanted to entertain himself while they slept. 

After your conversation, he flew down and looked through his stuff in the kitchen until he found an old flask and filled it up with his father’s Firewhisky. He knew you liked it and he knew he liked it. He then put it in a small bag and handed it to Reese. 

When he walked into the room, he saw Sirius writing something on a piece of paper and Remus correcting his words. They both were on edge and looked like they were about to go at each other’s throats. 

“What are you doing?” James asked, confused.

Sirius looked at him, worry in his gaze, and he placed a blank parchment on top of the other one. “I’m writing something for her,” he said simply. 

“And I can’t see it?” 

“No,” Sirius said plainly. 

“But Remus can?  I see how things are.” 

“James,” Sirius reproached, “I promise you would hate to be involved in this in the way Remus is.” 

“Well at least he’s not kept in the dark about it,” James retorted viciously. Sirius had always gone to him with his problems, he didn’t understand what this thing with Remus was, and he didn’t quite like it either. Whatever had happened, you had left his house because of the two of them, and you were far from the “All right!”  you kept claiming to be.

“That’s not fair,” Sirius replied. 

Remus stood up hastily. “This is none of my business.” 

“This is ALL of your business!” James said sternly. “I can’t be the only one that’s fucking worried about her!” Sirius scoffed and Remus remained silent as he threw a look at James. If only he knew. “I thought you were her best friend.” He threw an accusatory finger at Remus. “You’re always around, teaming up on every fucking project. You were there after the fucking Christmas Party. Why haven’t you even tried to contact her?” 

“We’ve tried!” Remus responded, voice louder. “Sirius has even tried to do whatever the hell he did with the necklace and all we get is a stupid fire and my fucking jumper. Why haven’t you tried to contact her?” 

“I have,” James said. 

“And? No answer, right?” Prongs did not say further. “Merlin knows where she might have gone off to. We might not see her again ‘til school and it’s all my fucking fault.” 

“What?” James asked, confused, he thought it was Sirius and you thing not a Sirius and Remus and you thing. Sirius threw a reproaching arm slap at Remus and James sighed. “You know what? I don’t care. If you all don’t want to tell me what the fuck happened then it’s going to be on you to fix it.” 

Sirius groaned and leaned his head over his knees. Remus gave him a pitiful look and James walked out of the room. When he was gone, Remus placed a reassuring hand over Sirius’ back. Sirius hated how damn good it felt. 

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “You’ll get her back, we’ll find a way.” 

“She’s convinced we like each other, she wouldn’t have left if she wasn’t.” 

“Then we prove her wrong, Pads.” 

“It’s not going to work,” he said and turned his head to look at Remus. His cheek was half squashed on his knee and some of his hair was covering his soft features, but Remus could easily see the glistening wet eyes.

He placed his hand on Sirius’ face and carefully pushed some of the hair back, he was being as gentle and reassuring as he had been with you the past couple of weeks, and he found himself thinking something eerily similar to what he did when he held your crying frame. 

He hated himself for thinking of how beautiful Sirius looked, for how much he wanted to kiss him and comfort him. He hated that you were right, that he really did like Sirius and it was worse to know that Sirius liked him back and that neither of them would ever do anything about it because neither of them wanted to hurt you. He forced his hand back and onto his knee, tapping on it with his index nervously. Sirius sighed a pained expression on his face, mirroring almost perfectly the one on Remus’. 

You had all reached a dеad end. You refused to go back to Sirius because your best friend was in love with him, and you thought Remus deserved the world. Sirius refused to chase his feelings for Remus because he loved you, and he wouldn’t dare to see you sad. He wanted you back. And lastly, Remus refused to lean closer and place a kiss on Sirius’ lips like he was so tempted to do, because he knew you loved him, and there was no way in hell he’d ever hurt you, you had gone through enough, seeing your boyfriend with your best friend might as well be the last straw. 

But what about Sirius? Yeah, you were thinking of him, since you thought he liked Remus and he would be happier with him. And of course, Remus was thinking of Sirius, he did all the time, but what both you and Remus failed to realise was how much strain you were putting on him. He was in love with his two best friends, and there was no way he could be with one without hurting the other.  

You had made the choice for him, you had taken his agency and stepped out of the way. But Sirius did not want that, neither did Remus. Heck, not even you –with your staggering determination to make them both happy– actually wanted to leave him. 

The problem was that none of you would talk about your feelings to each other, because no one wanted to be vulnerable. No one was ready to risk your friendship and hearts in the process. And as a result, you were all miserable. 

And Remus, poor Remus wouldn’t even say that he liked you as much as he liked Sirius because if things had gone awry with you just believing he liked Sirius, he assumed that coming clean would only complicate shit further and make everyone even more miserable. 

The three of you were sinking, grappling at each other to try and save them but only succeeding in dragging them towards the bottom. A hard, determined grip that was causing all of you to drown in an ocean of emotions. But the three of you were bigger than the sea you were sinking in, all you had to do was open your hearts and sing their longings. Only then would you realise the three of you had the ability to breathe underwater and to love more than one at the same time.

Tuesday, January 11th, 1977

You woke up on the floor, you were sore and had a terrible headache. You removed the sweater from your face and winced as the light passed through the window. You had spent the previous night trying to get Nina’s wand to work, but other than getting it to do a very dim, almost useless Lumos, you had gotten nowhere. 

You sat up on the floor a little too fast and your head spun. You had drank the flask James had sent you and upon wanting to swallow your sorrows, used the hairpin to buy a bottle of whatever they had available at the Leaky Cauldron. It was terrible, probably adulterated or mixed up with some drunk-inducing potion. It had tasted like shit, and yet you had drank half of the bottle while you kept trying for the wand to work. 

After a particularly disastrous try that had you walk back to the room with a small jar of water, you threw the entire bottle into the fire in fury and had to drink the weird-tasting water from the Inn. You didn’t even have anything to take to subdue your hangover (evidently exacerbated due to the fact that you had refused to eat at all that Saturday). And you still weren’t hungry. 

When you managed to walk towards the bathroom you realised you had stained the band shirt from Sirius you’d been wearing and almost broke down to cry again. You didn’t want to wash it, but you’d have to wash it, there was no way you used a cleaning spell since your fucking wand was broken and Nina’s still refused to fucking collaborate. You washed your face and your teeth –your breath was disgusting up until then. Then you sat on the toilet seat and stared at the wall while you tried to recollect your thoughts. 

You’d have to go back to Hogwarts tonight, the train was almost always the best way to travel there, but you didn’t want to see the boys, and you had heard the Knight Bus drove to Hogsmeade, and from there you could walk all the way to the castle. 

But it’s cold, a little voice in your head said. Either way, unless you got the wand to work for you, there was no way in hell you could use a disillusionment charm to walk towards the Honeydukes passage, and you weren’t sure you’d be able to take the one at the Shrieking Shack since they had used new spells to close it.

You sighed and stood up, putting the bits and trinkets you had taken out of your trunk back into it and closing it. You wrote a small apology letter for the chair and left a couple of galleons for the cleaning lady that would have to fix it with reparo. You checked under the bed to make sure you had everything with you and handed your suitcase (whose levitation spell had not worn off as of yet) to Reese. 

Once you knew you were ready you took your bag –the one with the undetectable extension charm– and slung it around your shoulder. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy to walk inside Gringotts without calling too much attention, so you dug deeper into the bag and pulled out James’ Felix Felicis. It was as you were looking at it that you remembered that you had promised to talk to him in the morning.

You cursed under your breath and dug through your pockets to try and find the earring and put it on hastily. 

“James?” you asked in a low tone, almost hesitantly. 

“Vixen?!” you heard from the other side. 

“What?” you heard Sirius's voice. “Where?” he added, and then there was more shuffling. 

“No,” James said. “I meant– I meant to look at this,” he added, taking something from the table. “She used to love it.” 

Remus gave him a distasteful look, and Sirius looked at him with a saddened sort of expression. You, on the other side of the spell, didn’t say a word.

“Maybe next time don’t say her name like that?” Remus suggested. You would be lying if you said that hadn’t felt like a cold bucket of water thrown straight in your face. I mean, it makes sense he wouldn’t want to hear about his new boyfriend’s ex but– you… you were friends. 

James, who had absolutely no context of the situation just scoffed, you heard a chair groan as he stood up. “The both of you are absolutely impossible,” he added. “Write her a fucking letter.” 

“I have, I don’t have a fucking address to send it!” Sirius retorted. James just walked out. You heard a door, and then running water. Probably a faucet. 

Then he muttered a silencing incantation and sighed. “What the fuck, Vixen?!? You said 9! It’s almost twelve.”

“I’m sorry–” 

“I was worried!” 

“I’m fine,” you lied, James knew it. He couldn’t see you, but your voice had that slight drag it had when you were upset. 

James let out an exasperated sigh, “You didn’t drink the entire flask, did you?” 

“No,” you lied again, turning the flask upside down and looking at the small drop of fire whiskey that fell from it. It wasn’t entirely a lie. 

There was silence, “We’re taking the train today, will I see you there?” 

“Probably not,” you responded. “I think they might take me to Hogsmeade.” 

“Want me to pick you up at Honeydukes?” 

“Please!” There was silence. “But James… Just you, is that okay?” 

He sighed. “You won’t fix things if you don’t talk to each other.” 

James Potter, the voice of reason, ladies and gentlemen (and anyone in between). 

“We just need a little bit more time,” you said tentatively. “You’ll come alone then?” 

“Fine,” he said, completely unconvinced. 

“Thank you, James.” 

“Don’t do anything stupid while you wait,” he warned. 

You scoffed, “Look who’s talking.”

“See you around,” he said at last. You took the earring off and placed it in your pocket. 

You walked downstairs, handed the key to the man on the counter, and walked outside. You blended in the mix of people and walked straight towards Gringotts. You didn’t know if your father had placed alarms or anything similar, if he would know you’d been there or if he had forgotten that he’d given you the vault altogether, but you knew you had to be fast either way. In and out, if nobody noticed, then it would be for the best. If only you could use your wand, things would be easier. 

The long white building stood ahead of you. Threatening like an ancient mausoleum filled with secrets and pitfalls. You had never entered, but you had heard of it plenty. You remembered your mother telling you all about the Goblins and their rebellions and how they were in charge of the most important Magic Bank in England. You took a deep breath and walked inside. The luxurious golden columns were the first thing that you spotted. Tall and mighty, rows and rows of them walking through the long and wide corridor. 

You walked inside as if you knew the place, you had to enter the vault since asking for money directly might not have been as easy, you were sure you had accounts to your name, but a large withdrawal would be a lot more evident if you did it through the goblins than if you walked inside your vault, and placed most of the money there. 

You walked all the way to the end of the long hall and smiled politely at a hostile-looking goblin. You could see on his name tag the name Thracknok. He finished stamping a paper and looked up at you with a grin that looked more sinister than welcoming. “How may I help?” he asked in a garrulous and nasal tone, every word clipped.

“I would like to access my vault,” you said as you took out your key and showed it to him. “It’s the 718.” 

“Top security?” The goblin replied. 

You nodded, breath as steady as possible. “I have been sent by my father,” you lied. And then you focused on your voice, you remembered what you’d done to Remus, the intonation, the way in which you had charmed him, and channelled it again. “You must take me there.” 

Thracknok nodded, his gaze slightly lost, “I must,” he agreed. 

By the time he turned around and took the key you’d given him from the counter, you let out a nervous breath and followed him. He took you all the way into a small, mine-like cart, and motioned for you to sit. In a matter of seconds, you were coursing at top speeds through tunnels and wide-opened spaces. You saw a dragon and went through a waterfall. Thracknok seemed disoriented for barely a second after that, but he continued with his task. 

Fae magic and wizard magic, although similar, were not exactly the same, and the Thief’s Downfall had not affected your charm almost at all. Now you had no idea why that waterfall was there, but you had focused on one thing throughout the trip and it was those same words that you’d told Thracknok from behind the counter ‘You must take me there.’

You weren’t entirely sure what you were doing, but something deep inside you told you that you had to be precise with this. Eventually, the cart stopped, right in front of a pair of twin vaults 718 and 719. Both had your last name written at the top. 

The goblin approached one of the vaults and placed the key, the vault opened, intricate metal pieces slowly moving to the side, and allowing you in. 

“I’ll be outside,” the goblin said and turned around for you to walk in. You walked inside your vault, it was filled with both things you had and hadn’t seen. There were piles of galleons in the corners and several other magical items scattered all around. There were goblets, and jewellery, a bunch of enchanted items. You could feel their magic, even if you weren’t sure what most of them did. You swallowed and picked a handful of galleons and threw them in your bag, then another one and then another one. You hadn’t even made a dent in the pile, but you had enough to get by for the rest of the school year and then some. 

You turned to the massive grandfather clock in the corner of the room, it had taken you exactly three minutes and 15 seconds to fill your bag. It hadn’t been that long, you wanted your whole incursion at Gringotts to last no more than 30 minutes, and so far, you were doing an excellent job. You took a deep breath and started looking around. You avoided touching any of the jewellery in case it had tracking spells, but you looked over the rest of the things. Some things had belonged to your Mum, fae relics, and then there were other things that belonged to your dad’s side of the family, ancient jewellery, a game of chess made out of gold, a star trapped in a ring whose shine was almost blinding and even a couple of old books on fae magic your father had bought and studied when he married your mother.  

And that’s when you thought about his letter again, the one where he’d told you that he needed space on the family vault for something else. You had thought it was odd then, you even suspected he might be hiding something important. But now that you saw all those fae items and books, you knew that whatever he must have hidden in there was powerful, so powerful it might have been used as a weapon. 

What was that old saying? Curiosity kiIIed the cat? Perhaps you should have resisted the urge to find a way inside the other vault, perhaps you should have just walked out of the bank, gone straight towards a small street and called for the Knight Bus. But it was the oddness of all those precious items being taken out and thrown somewhere else, of those items being replaced by something else. There had to be a reason, and you had to see what it was.

You looked around inside the vault, you had read a book about twin vaults, some of them were connected upon the request of their owners. Now, you didn’t see a straight connection between them, but you were certain your father would be the type of person to request such a thing, in the strange scenario he had to get out of the vault a different way than the one he got in. 

You took a deep breath and paid attention to everything. The secret passages in your old house had always been odd. The classic book was not secretive enough for Silas. He liked to use weirder things, books that hid information, candies that unlocked secret doors (but only if you put the right amount of them on the scale), elaborate puzzle games that would only open the passage if you followed the exact amount of steps to solve them. 

When you were smaller, before the trip to the Occultum and before his political ambitions took over his personality, the two of you used to do puzzles together, elaborate and complicated sorts of puzzles that were far above your age range. But Silas didn’t care, he would convince you to keep trying and trying until you found the way to solve them. Whenever you did solve a puzzle, Silas would smile and praise his talented daughter, tell her how brilliant she was, and then he would give you a wish in return. A wish, you thought. 

Right in the middle of the bookshelf, there was a simple book, with the word ‘Wish’ written on its spine. You looked at it for a couple of seconds before you decided to approach it, it was in slow and tentative steps that you reached the shelf and took it in your hands. You swallowed and opened the book. 

There was only one written page in the entire book, and it was a riddle.

In shadows deep and whispers soft, A secret lies, though hidden oft. Through twists and turns of mind and fate, Seek the truth, but never late. In echoes old and dreams untold, The key awaits, in tales of old. Through trials dire and trials fair, Only the wise shall find it there. In silence vast and darkness deep, The answer lies, in dreams asleep. But wake ye now, and heed the call, For time is short, and darkness falls. Three paths diverge, yet all converge, To where the truth and secrets surge. Choose wisely, seeker, lest you fail, And in the end, your efforts pale."

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A/N: I questioned myself for making them suffer so much while revising this chapter. Some of Sirius' words are just heart wrenching to me, I swear <3

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