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foreverisntenough · 3 days

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‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 7 - Madrid or Manhattan | ‘Act II’

word count - 11.2k

The following day, you couldn’t take the distance or the unknown any longer. That night had been a blur of bad decisions and misplaced anger, and now, with a mildly more clear head, you knew what you had to do. You needed to see Jude, to confront him, to figure out where you two stood. The thought of him with someone else, or worse, of him moving on from you, was unbearable. You had to know if there was anything left to salvage. You had acted out and you’d need to fix this or put it to bed. Once again, in a last ditch effort, without hesitation, you booked a flight back to Madrid, your heart racing as you imagined what might happen when you saw Jude again. If he had done it again—if he had been with someone else since your last conversation—you knew you would have to walk away for good. But deep down, you hoped that wasn’t the case. You hoped that Jude had been as miserable as you had, that he had spent every moment thinking of you. You didn’t tell him you were coming, you wanted him to not know in case he was with someone else. That’d be it for you. You were racking up flight miles. The environment was screaming at you but you took another flight anyway. When you arrived at Jude’s house, your nerves were frayed, your emotions teetering on the edge. The lack of sleep catching up to you. You didn’t bother with the formalities this time, just knocked on the door and waited, your heart pounding in your chest. When Jude opened the door, his surprise was evident, but there was something else in his eyes too—relief.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice a mix of surprise and something that sounded like hope. “You’re here.” Jude felt his heart beat slow down to a point where he wasn’t sure if you were really there or if he was imagining things.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice wavering slightly. “I’m here.” You stood there for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say, until Jude stepped aside to let you in. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on you.

“Looked like you’d been having fun lately. Saw the posts,” Jude admitted as you sat down on the same sage green couch that used to be a place of comfort until your relationship or whatever with him was shattered in a moment by him, the tension palpable. He didn’t mean to sound so passive and short but he was hurt. “I know what you were doing. And I hated every second of it.” You winced hearing him call you out layered with a bit of anger of your own too.

“Having fun?” Your eyes narrowed on him, annoyed he said that. “Whatever. That was the point,” you replied, not unkindly, but with a bitterness that lingered in your voice. “I was angry, Jude. I didn’t know how else to make you understand how much you hurt me.” And when you told Jude that you had slept with someone to spite him for doing the same, it hit him harder than he expected.

“I know I messed up,” Jude said, his voice thick with regret, tears building on his waterline. “I haven’t done anything but think about you since you left. I was so stupid, so insecure, and I let it get the best of me. But I haven’t been with anyone else, Y/N. I swear.” Jude took a deep breath. You studied his face, searching for any sign that he was lying, but all you saw was the same regret and pain you had been carrying. The anger you had been holding onto started to crumble, replaced by a deep, aching sadness.

“I have though…” You cried. A sight Jude hadn’t expected. He knew you were upset but he put it down to anger but sadness, a broken heart, he could barely look at you. He felt more sick than before knowing that he made you feel this way. He knew. You tried to take a deep breath but you were shaking. He knew you well enough to know how you’d respond to him hooking up with someone else. The divide between you was so vast you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to build a bridge. The jealousy and hurt twisted in his gut as he realized that the thought of you with anyone else was unbearable. To know you were in someone else’s bed made him sick. It had been building since he slept with another girl but as he heard it roll off your tongue, that was the moment Jude understood that what he felt for you went far beyond just liking you—he was in love with you. The idea of losing you, the girl he had uncontrollably and unintentionally fell in love with made him feel physically ill, bringing all his buried emotions to the surface. You sat on the edge of the couch as emotions flooded you once over, your face buried in your hands as you cried softly. The weight of everything that had happened between you two felt unbearable, like it was crushing you from the inside out. Jude stood up in front of you, his face loosing color and filled with a mixture of hurt and helplessness. He hadn’t said much since you admitted it—admitted that you’d slept with someone after you found out about him and the other girl. You hated it. Hated that you had hurt him, hated that you had hurt yourself in the process. But more than anything, you hated how much you still cared about him, how much you wanted him even now. “I don’t understand,” you choked out through your tears, your voice breaking. “I don’t understand why I like you so much, even after everything. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do.”

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice soft but strained. “It’s okay. I know you’re hurting.” Jude knelt down in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face, his thumb brushing away your tears.

“I don’t want to be hurting!” you snapped, the frustration boiling over. “I hate this. I hate that I like you so much, Jude. I hate that even when I try to move on, you’re all I think about. You’re the only thing I’ve thought about since I left here. Just you all fucking day. I’ve done nothing else.” You whined. Jude winced, clearly pained by your words, but he didn’t pull away. He wasn’t sure how he felt that you were so distraught over the idea of liking and thinking of him the way you were.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know it hurts. But you’re not alone. I feel the same.” He just stayed there, holding your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours. You shook your head, the tears coming harder now.

“But you don’t. You don’t know how much it hurts. You slept with someone else, I slept with someone else… How are we supposed to come back from that?” You cried. Jude took a deep breath, his hands dropping to your shoulders, steadying you.

“Because none of that matters to me anymore. What matters is that you’re here, with me. And I don’t want you to leave.” Jude hummed, holding onto you firmly. He leaned forward resting his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath.

“What are you saying?” You blinked at him, your heart aching at his words. Jude knew he should tell you why. Tell you how he really felt but those words couldn’t come out.

“I’m saying… I need you,” Jude whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to do this without you. You’re the only person who makes me feel like… like everything’s going to be okay. Even when it’s not.” He took another deep breath. Your chest tightened at his confession, and despite all the hurt, all the mistakes, a part of you wanted to believe him. A part of you needed to believe him. “Stay,” he said softly, his eyes pleading. “Stay in Madrid with me. With me tonight, whenever you want. Please. We’re both hurting, I know that. But you’re the only one who makes me feel better. Holding you is the only thing that’s going to make it better.” Jude thought he might start crying so he let his eyelids flutter close.

“What if it happens again, Jude? What if we hurt each other all over again?” You looked away, your heart racing, the fear creeping in.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I swear. I just… I just want you. I need you.” He shook his head, his grip on you tightening. You felt yourself breaking down, the tears flowing again as you leaned into him. Jude wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, holding you as if he was afraid to let go.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered. You clung to him, your sobs muffled against his shirt.

“You can,” Jude murmured into your hair. “I know you can. I know we can.” You stayed like that, wrapped in each other, both of you hurting but unwilling to let go. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t even close, but in that moment, the only thing that mattered was that you were together. You didn’t know what the future held, or if you could ever truly move past the pain, but you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t ready to walk away. Not yet.

“I was so scared, Jude,” you whispered, your voice breaking as the tears spilled over again. “I didn’t want to fall for you because I knew this would happen. I knew I’d get hurt. I knew this would happen.” You pouted with a quivering bottom lip.

“I’m so sorry, angel,” he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. Jude reached for you, pulling you into his arms, the tears soaking into his shirt. He held you close, his heart breaking as he felt just how deeply he had wounded you. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. But I want to make this right. I want you here, with me. I don’t want to lose you.” He whispered. You clung to him, the floodgates unable to close as you let out all the pain and fear you had been carrying. In that moment, in Jude’s arms, you felt a flicker of hope maybe you’d be able to rebuild what had been broken.

“I want to stay,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both fear and hope. “But I’m scared, Jude. I’m too scared of getting hurt again. You really hurt me.” You cried.

“I know,” he said softly. Jude held you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out together, I promise.” And for the first time since you fled Madrid, you let yourself believe that you could. You went to sleep in Jude’s room that night in an intense silence. The air was thick with tension, as if every unspoken word, every bottled emotion had made the room smaller, tighter, almost suffocating. You had come all this way to see if there was anything left to salvage between you and Jude, but now, lying next to him in bed, you weren’t sure. The silence between you was intense, almost unbearable, but the thought of letting go was more painful. His arms were wrapped around you, and you couldn’t tell where his body ended and yours began. You weren’t sure if it was humanly possible to be as close as you two were in his bed. Despite the space you tried to keep between your minds and hearts, your bodies refused to acknowledge it. It wasn’t the same as before though. There were no whispered kisses or soft laughter. This wasn’t passion, it was desperation—an instinctual need to be close, to hold on to the only thing that felt familiar in a world that was quickly unraveling. You both stayed still for a long time, as if moving or speaking would shatter whatever fragile thing was keeping you together. The warmth of his chest against your back was the only thing grounding you, and yet it felt distant, too. Occasionally, you could feel him shift, his breath shaky, a small sniffle escaping him. In the quiet, you realized he was crying too, though he tried to hide it, just like you were. Tears silently streamed down your face, soaking into the pillow beneath you and you were pretty sure some of them would drip onto his arm. You didn’t even bother wiping them away. You weren’t sure if he could feel them, or if he already knew, but part of you hoped he did. Maybe it would save you the trouble of trying to explain the heartbreak clawing at your chest. Every breath felt heavy, every second drawn out, weighted by the regret hanging between you. The things you hadn’t said. The feelings you hadn’t admitted. The mistakes you both made that had led you here—together but impossibly apart. The words ‘I love you’ hovered unspoken in the room, almost too big to say aloud, but they screamed in your mind. If you said them now, would it fix things? Or would it make them worse? You weren’t sure. There were moments where you thought you felt Jude shift closer, as if he was trying to gather the courage to say something, but he never did. The silence remained, only occasionally broken by your mutual sniffles or the rustle of sheets. You wanted to scream, to shake him, to demand he say something, anything, but instead, you just lay there, clinging to him as if letting go would break you entirely. Hours passed, but sleep didn’t come. How could it, with so much between you that still needed to be said? The weight of it all pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe, hard to think clearly. But even then, even through the pain and confusion, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but here, in this bed, with him. You didn’t know what the morning would bring—if you would still be holding each other or if the final goodbye was waiting on the other side of this silence—but for now, this was all you had. And even though it hurt, even though it felt like it might break you both, neither of you could let go.

That morning it was tense but Jude thought that if you flew here you must have craved the same thing he did. You wanted to close this distance. The morning air in Madrid was still cool, the early sun spilling into the room like a quiet reminder of everything left unsaid. You stood in the en-suite, your hands gripping the edge of the sink as you brushed your teeth, staring blankly at your reflection. It wasn’t just the exhaustion from travel, or even the tension that clung to the air like a suffocating fog—it was everything. Every decision, every misstep, and most of all, the pain that weighed down your chest like a heavy stone. When you finished, you walked back into the bedroom, the tension palpable in the silence between you and Jude. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, fiddling with his phone, his jaw set in a way that told you he was thinking too hard about what to say.

“Do you want breakfast?” Without looking up, he finally broke the silence, his voice quiet and almost too casual. It was an olive branch, awkward and uncertain, but it was something. You nodded, still feeling the weight of everything between you both as you glanced toward the balcony. The doors were open now, letting the morning breeze drift through. Jude had laid out breakfast on the small table outside—nothing too grand, just simple plates and chairs, but it was thoughtful. In that moment, despite everything, it was exactly what you needed.You stepped outside, the brightness of the Madrid sun almost blinding, and you gave Jude a sad smile. He followed, his movements slower, more deliberate, as if he was trying to figure out how to navigate the space between you. The small table sat between you both now, but it wasn’t the table or the breakfast that mattered—it was the unspoken words, the ghosts of last night, and the quiet ache that lingered in both of your hearts. You took a deep breath, the knot in your chest tightening as you realized you couldn’t dance around it any longer. You couldn’t pretend like it hadn’t happened, like you hadn’t both crossed a line you swore you wouldn’t. The words caught in your throat, but you forced them out, your voice soft and shaky.

“Jude,” you started, glancing down at the table before meeting his eyes. “I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have done what I did, but all it’s done is made me realize—” Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed forward. “There’s no one like you. No one.” The admission hung in the air between you both, heavy with meaning. Jude’s expression softened, but the pain was still there, written all over his face. He looked down at the table, then back at you, his jaw tightening as if he was trying to hold something back.

“I feel the same,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “What I did… I regret it. I wish I could take it back. I thought… I thought it would make it easier to forget everything, to just push it away. But it didn’t. It just made everything worse. Because it’s you—there’s no one else that’s you.” The honesty in his words hit you like a wave, but it didn’t wash away the hurt. The pain still lingered, heavy and raw, between you both. You nodded slowly, your throat tightening with the threat of tears, but you blinked them back. This wasn’t the time for tears. This was about trying to move forward, even if you didn’t know how. You looked at him, the sunlight casting soft shadows over his face, and you felt the weight of your heart in your chest.

“I think… I might be falling for you, Jude. And you don’t have to say anything back because this I know it’s probably stupid. It scares the hell out of me as well so….” You whispered. He didn’t move for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to find the right words, to make sure you really meant yours. Then, slowly, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch was tentative, but it was enough to ground you, to remind you that, despite everything, you were both still here.

“I’m falling for you too,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “And I’m so so sorry. I’m so sorry for hurting you.” The pain still lingered, gnawing at the edges of your heart, but for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a small flicker of hope. You both sat there, in the bright Madrid sun, the weight of your mistakes still heavy, but the possibility of something more—something real—finally starting to take shape. You weren’t sure if you could fully move past what had happened, but in that moment, with Jude’s hand resting on yours, you knew you couldn’t walk away either. Not yet. Not when there was still so much left to say, so much left to feel. The road ahead was uncertain, but for now, you had each other. And that, at least, was a start. Jude stood up from his chair, his eyes locked onto yours with a mix of regret and something deeper, something more raw. Breakfast was forgotten in an instant, the food sitting untouched as he closed the small space between you. “Come here,” he whispered, his voice soft but commanding, and before you could even think, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. The warmth of his embrace was immediate, and despite everything that had happened, despite the pain, you melted into him. He swayed gently, the movement slow and comforting, as the Madrid sun drenched you both in its golden light. The air was thick with the scent of the morning and the faint sounds of the city below, but up here, in this moment, it was just the two of you. Nothing else mattered. You had told yourself there wasn’t time for tears, that crying wouldn’t help anything—but the moment his arms wrapped around you, it all came crashing down. You couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears started to fall, first in quiet, controlled sobs, but soon, they were unstoppable. Your face pressed into his chest, your fingers clutching his shirt as if letting go wasn’t an option. Jude felt the shift, the way your body shook with the weight of your tears, and he tightened his hold on you, pressing a kiss into your hair. “I’m here,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “I’m here… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He kept repeating it, over and over, the words flowing out of him like a mantra, as if saying it enough times might somehow erase the pain. But it wasn’t just about the apology—it was the way he held you, the way he swayed with you in his arms, as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, and he needed to keep you safe. Neither of you wanted to let go, neither of you could. The tears kept coming, your body trembling against him, but Jude didn’t move. He didn’t pull away, didn’t try to comfort you with empty words. He just held you, letting the weight of the moment sink in. You stayed like that for what felt like ages, swaying back and forth in the sunlight, the world around you fading into the background. Finally, your sobs began to quiet, though the tears still flowed. You buried your face deeper into his chest, his heartbeat steady against your ear, grounding you in a way nothing else could. His hand stroked your back, slow and gentle, like he was trying to soothe the ache that had settled between you both. It wasn’t a moment of resolution, but it was something. A step. And as you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you realized that despite everything, neither of you were ready to let go. Not of each other, not of the possibility of what you could still be. And for now, that was enough.

The atmosphere between you and Jude was tense at a bar. Despite the emotional reconciliation, Jude seemed to just move on after that. He was sweet to you of course but it kind of bothered you that he was acting as if everything was just as before. Just as before where Jude was primary, you were in secondary when it came to life in Madrid. Just as before where clarification about your relationship wasn’t needed. Jude could talk to the girls who wanted a photo but the second you took a step closer to lean over the bar towards the male bartender Jude’s eyes lit with fear and unfortunately a bit of possessiveness and annoyance. The feeling of your indiscretions still weighing on you both. The neon lights flickered outside, casting colorful shadows on the cobblestone streets of Madrid. Inside, the music was loud, the energy high, and the crowd lively—a perfect distraction from the lingering tension simmering between you. You didn’t like to be told what to do and even though it wasn’t being vocalized you were determined to prove a point tonight, that Jude couldn’t. Jude wasn’t the only one who could command attention, and you were tired of feeling like he was the one in control of this relationship. You’d now flown across the Atlantic Ocean for him twice now and yet there was still no clarification on what you were to him. If he wanted you to act like you were his, he’d have to tell you you were not just assume it. You knew people noticed you, but Jude had a way of overshadowing everything, making you feel like just another part of his world. Tonight, you wanted to remind him that you weren’t just an accessory on his arm. You were not like all those who had bowed down to him before. As you settled into a corner of the bar, Jude’s friend Aurelien had joined you, his usual easygoing charm on full display. Aurelien was one of the few people in Jude’s circle that you genuinely felt like you got on with and you knew he liked you. He was funny, handsome, smart, and—most importantly—he didn’t treat you like you were just Jude’s girl. You both spoke French, and tonight, you decided to use it to your advantage. The night had started innocently enough—but as the drinks flowed and inhibitions lowered. Flirting had always been second nature to you, and tonight was no exception.

“Salut, Aurel, ça fait longtemps,” [Hi, Aurel, it’s been a long time!] you said, your voice lilting as you slipped effortlessly into your shared language. You leaned in close to Aurelien, your lips curving into a playful smile as you greeted him in French.

“Ça va, YN? Toujours aussi belle,” [Are you okay, Y/N? Still so beautiful,] Aurelien replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he responded in kind. You exchanged pleasantries, your conversation light and easy, but with an undercurrent that was meant to get under Jude’s skin. And it worked. Jude watched you, his jaw tightening as he struggled to follow the rapid exchange. He didn’t know enough French to follow and the pace you and Aurelien were speaking at made it even harder to keep up. He didn’t like being left out. It felt deliberate, and it stoked the jealousy that had already been smoldering since the Instagram stories. You could feel Jude’s gaze on you, but you didn’t stop. You laughed at something Aurelien said, a light, airy sound that made Jude’s chest tighten. He knew what you were doing, and it drove him crazy. He wasn’t used to feeling this way—possessive, insecure, like he was the one who had to fight for your attention but he had been feeling it essentially since you met. It made him realize just how much he cared, how deeply he was already in. Seeing this in person made things brutally more painful than seeing it on his phone’s screen.

“Enough,” Jude said, his voice low and tense, leaving no room for argument. After a while, Jude wasn’t able to take it anymore. “We’re going home, yeah?.” He reached out, gently but firmly wrapping his hand around your waist, pulling your attention away from Aurelien.

“Already?” you asked, feigning innocence as you met his gaze. “But we’re having such a good time.” You looked at him, surprised by the intensity in his eyes. You knew you had pushed him, but you hadn’t expected this reaction.

“Now, Y/N,” Jude insisted, his grip on your wrist tightening just enough to make his point clear.

“Bonne nuit ma belle.” [Good night, beautiful.] Aurelien looked between you, sensing the tension. He offered you a sympathetic smile, but didn’t interfere. “Jude, hablaré contigo mañana.” [Jude, I'll talk to you tomorrow.] He gave you both a small wave before turning back to the bar. The car ride home was silent, the air between you thick with unspoken words. You could feel the tension radiating off him, but you didn’t back down. You had wanted to make a point, and it seemed like it had worked. As soon as you were inside, Jude turned to face you, his eyes dark with a mix of emotions— jealousy but most of all, desire. The second you both stumbled through the door, the click of the lock barely audible over the tension, Jude's hands were on you-possessive and insistent.

“Why do you have to do this angel? Why won’t you just be a good girl?” He demanded, his voice rough as he tried to keep his devious smirk at bay. You knew he was gaslighting you. God were you embarrassingly turned on though. The intensity in his words took you by surprise.

“You did it first.” You quipped trying to not cave too easily. You crossed your arms over your chest, meeting his gaze defiantly. “Why is it okay for people to fawn over you, but not for me?” you shot back. “You’re not the only one who can turn heads, Jude. I’m not just some accessory to your life.” You explained a bit more seriously than both you and Jude were expecting. He took a step closer, his worry now surpassing his lust.

“I know you’re not,” he said, his voice going soft with emotion. “But you’re mine, Y/N. I don’t want to see you with anyone else. I can’t stand the thought of it. Do you understand that? Not in Manhattan, not in Madrid, not anywhere in the world.” He explained to you, Jude's voice was low and dangerous. Suddenly as you glanced down and saw his pants beginning to tent and you smiled greedily. “Nah, if you wanted my cock so bad all you had to do was ask, angel. I'd fly anywhere in the world for this pussy.” Jude hand slowly came and gripped around your neck. At first it was gentle but then he squeezed taking your breath away. He gave you a smirk that made your pussy throb. His brown eyes smoldering with possessiveness. Jude's hands were on you-insistent. Jude wasted no time after that, pushing you against the door, his body caging you in. "You like to play with fire, don't you, baby?" he murmured, his warm breath fanning your neck. "Flirting with Aurelien right under my nose. You know no one turns you on the way I can though, isn’t that right?" He had you trapped you between the cool surface and the overwhelming heat of him. His lips found yours in a messy, hungry kiss, like he had been waiting all night for this moment, like every touch outside the door was just a tease for what was coming. Your head spun, not just from the alcohol, but from the intensity of his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin like he couldn't get close enough. His kisses were fiery, desperate, as his lips trailed down your neck, igniting your skin wherever they touched. You gasped as his mouth grazed your collarbone, your hands instinctively gripping his hair, pulling him even closer. "You're just f’me," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “You know you’re just a whore for me.” His hands roamed your body with a mixture of tenderness and urgency, fingers tracing the curve of your waist before slipping under the hem of your top. The friction between your bodies was electric, every movement charged with desire. Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as his lips found yours again, more demanding this time, as though he couldn't stand the distance between you any longer. He had you pinned against the door, you could feel his need, his possessiveness, like he was marking you with every touch, every kiss. The world outside didn't exist anymore-just you and him, lost in each other.

"J-Jude, I didn't mean..." You melted into his hold, completely consumed by the heat of the moment, his touch searing into your skin like fire. You gasped as his hands moved to slid up your thigh, lifting your skirt. Your clothes were just disappearing second by second.

"Shh..." He silenced you with a finger on your lips. "You don't need to explain. I understand what you want, Y/N. You just wanted my attention." He patronized you in the hottest way and even though you knew you should hate him for it it had you desperate for him. His hands reached for the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs. You trembled as he exposed your wetness, your body betraying your guilt. "You're so wet, baby. Do you know why?" Jude's voice was a low purr, his fingers teasing your sensitive folds.

"N-no," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire.

"Because you wanted my attention and now that you’ve got it, you’re excited for me to punish you for being a whore tonight. And you’re gonna love it because you only get to be like this f’me, hmm?" With that, he delivered a sharp smack to your exposed ass, making you cry out.

"Fuck! Jude, please..." You squirmed against the door, your body already responding to his dominance. You moved your hips towards him, his fingers dragging through your fold and then pushing deep inside you. One of his massive hands gripping your ass then the other taking his thumb sliding it from your entrance to your clit. The base of his fingers and knuckles were wet with your slick sliding in and out of you as he simultaneously began to make tight circles on your clit.

"Please what, angel?" He landed another spank as he multitasked, leaving a stinging sensation on your skin. "Do you like being punished for flirting with my friends? Does it make you wet knowing I'm the only one who can touch you like this?"

"Yeah, please... more..." You couldn't deny the pleasure his words and actions were eliciting. Your head fell back, exposing your neck. His lips quick to find your neck, sucking on your sensitive skin. You bucked your hips up against his hand as he moved his fingers in and out of you, his thumb still working your clit.

"That's my good girl. You know who you belong to. I'm going to remind you just how much you're mine. Remind you of the way only I can make you feel." Jude chuckled, the sound sending a thrill through your body. You felt his free hand roam over your body, claiming every inch of you. His fingers pinched your nipples through the lace of your bra, eliciting a moan from your lips. "That's it, let me hear your sweet voice," he encouraged, his breath hot against your ear. "Tell me how much you want my cock." You knew your climax had been rapidly approaching and then he snatched it away. You gasped with a whine. Jude was in control tonight and he was making sure you knew that.

"I want it your cock, Jude, please!” You pleaded, your words fueled by the building desire. Your hand trailed down to the front of his boxers, cupping his length. He groaned into your mouth as you kissed him. You squeezed lightly, feeling the precum soaking through the thin material. His cock twitched under your hand as you rubbed him through his boxers. You slowly began to kiss down Jude’s body.

“Fuck baby. You want to be a good girl now? Show me you know you’re just f’me.” Jude asked you feeling your lips above the waistband of his boxers. Never in your life had you gotten turned on by a man taking control of you, claiming you and yet Jude had you dripping. You took his cock out and greedily licked your lips at the thick length and the vein running along the side of it. You took his cock into your hand and pumped it slowly as you locked eyes with Jude, letting some of your spit drop down into it. Slowly you licked the vein from base all the way up till you wrapped your lips around the tip. Jude’s hands immediately found their way to the back of your head, grabbing your hair tight. You moaned around his length. Jude inhaled as you took more of him until he hit the back of your throat, he bit his lip watching you bop up and down on his cock. “You love having my cock in your mouth, angel, huh? Look so sexy like this.” he groaned. You moaned and the hum vibrated through him. You took him deeper picking up the pace, minute after minute flying by. “Baby…you’re gonna make me cum like this.” Jude groaned as you let him fuck your face. “You don’t want me to cum in your mouth though do you? I think you like it when I cum somewhere else, that right?” Jude breathily got through his words. You nodded as he cupped your chin and pulled you off him with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The sight of you with drool pooling in the corners of your mouth, tears on your lash line had him in a lustful haze. He roughly pulled you up and pressed his lips to yours.

"Please, fuck me. Remind me I’m yours." You begged him pulling away from the kiss. He wasted no time. He pulled his shirt over his head. Once his shirt was off, he picked you up, his hands sliding over the curve of your ass, down under it, and to the backs of your thighs, lifting you off the ground. He wrapped your legs around his waist, settling you there. He reached down and positioned himself at your entrance. Without direction you dragged Judes fingers up to your mouth taking two of them into your mouth. You moaned, wrapping your lips around his fingers as his length slowly filled you. He took his hand from your mouth both his hands palming your ass, pressing your back to the door in a fury.

"Oh my god, fuck.” you cried out as he entered you in one swift motion, filling you completely. Jude's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as he began to thrust.

“Mmm. That’s it. That’s the spot, huh?” He smugly smiled as he found your g spot in an instant. Your face scrunched, and jaw slacked with a nod confirming. “Feel so good, baby" He grunted, his breath ragged. "So tight and wet around my cock.” He groaned. Your body felt like it was on fire as you pushed your heel into his muscular back.

“Jude, I fucking love y… your cock.” You whined, almost catching yourself out as you bounced on his cock. You called out his name as he hit all the spots perfectly fit for him. The pace, the force, every stroke was everything you could ever want. You leaned in, your lips slamming into his again as he continued to pound into you.

“God, you love it like this, don’t you?” He growled moving his lips, kissing up your jaw to your ear before nippling on it, then grazing his teeth down your neck. Your pussy tightened around his cock. You were a mess as Jude guided your hips. You were barreling into an orgasm. Jude pushed you harder against the door letting one of his hands drop in between you two to find your clit. “That’s right. Cum f’me baby.” And with that your body convulsed as you came undone on Jude’s cock. The coil in your stomach snapped, the pressure sending Jude over the edge with you. Your orgasms hit you like waves, crashing over your bodies. Your nails dug into his muscular back as you rode the intense pleasure. Jude's grip on your hips tightened, holding you in place as he continued to thrust. Your bounces slowing down to a stop. His sweat-coated chest heaved as he lazily smiled at you with a look that you could describe as love.

"YN, I..." Jude's words turned into a growl as he emptied himself deep within you, his hot cum filling your core. As your bodies calmed, he pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss until he pulled away almost breathless. "I understand tonight…" he whispered against your mouth. Your bodies still buzzing from the intensity of it all. The air between you felt different—charged but also heavy with unspoken words. Jude looked down at you, his gaze soft but serious, the remnants of that fiery possessiveness from earlier still lingering in his eyes. His fingers traced gentle lines along your though, as though grounding himself in your presence. “But you know…” he began, his voice low and thoughtful, “I’m not blind to it. I know how everyone looks at you.” You turned your head slightly to meet his eyes, sensing there was more he needed to say. He exhaled, his hand pausing on your skin. “You’re so… God, you’re the most gorgeous girl in Madrid. In Manhattan, too. I see it in their faces—my friends, strangers, people at clubs. They all see what I see. And I know…” His voice wavered for a moment, the vulnerability seeping through, “I know how coveted you are. I know what it must feel like for them, knowing I’m the one who gets to be with you.” You blinked, taken aback by the rawness in his words. He wasn’t just talking about your looks—there was something deeper there, something that made your heart ache in the best possible way. Jude leaned in closer, his forehead resting lightly against yours. “But it’s not just that I get to sleep with the hottest girl in Madrid or Manhattan,” he continued softly, “I don’t take for granted that I’m the one who gets to know you. Like really know you, behind the glass; your fears, your dreams, the way your mind works, the things that make you laugh. No one else knows you like that. And I’m so fucking lucky you let me be that guy.” His admission hung between you, raw and real, and you felt your chest tighten with emotion. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you were his world, his everything. “I don’t take any of this for granted,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Not for a second and I’ll never stop being grateful for that.” You swallowed hard, your throat tightening as your fingers instinctively reached for his, intertwining them with yours. It wasn’t just about the jealousy or the possessiveness—it was about the way he saw you, understood you, and cherished you in a way no one else ever had. You smiled softly, your heart full, knowing that despite everything—the flirting, the teasing—it all came back to this: the two of you, here, together, holding onto something that felt too precious to let slip away.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me.” You smiled, a little breathless, as you realized the depth of your submission to this man. The night's events had transformed into a powerful reminder of the intense connection you shared, leaving you both satisfied and utterly spent. This was a little fun though, no, Jude?” You giggled. He nodded very matter of factly. You headed upstairs drunk off a little bit of tequila still lingering and very drunk off him. You were slightly mortified he just fucked you in the foyer but it was late. It was morning essentially and that made it all the more risky.

“It’s okay.” He whispered in your ear reassuring you as he walked behind you, his arms wrapped around you as you carried half of your clothes upstairs in your hands. “You just can’t help yourself. No one can make you feel the way I can and you just were so horny for me. You couldn’t wait.”He kissed your bare shoulder.

“Oh my god! Shut up honestly.” You groaned through a quiet giggle. “You came home and were all over me because you are the most jealous man I’ve ever met. I spoke french to Aurelien for 5 minutes and you came home and you just couldn’t help yourself because no one can make you feel the way I can and you just were so horny for me.” You quipped reciting his words back to him. He kissed your hair and then rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t wait.” You kissed your teeth.

“Yeah yeah yeah. You got me but let’s face it we’re very good at fucking. It’d be a shame to waste such talent, hmm?” He kissed behind your ear. You shook your head as you entered his bedroom. Jude turned you around to face him, his hands framing your face as he looked into your eyes. “Y/N, jokes aside. I don’t want anyone else, and I don’t want you with anyone else, yeah?” Jude honestly told you. Your breath caught in your throat at the intensity of his words. For so long, you had been afraid to let yourself fall, afraid of getting hurt, but now, hearing Jude’s confession, you felt your own walls start to crumble. You nodded terrified agreeing to this all over again.

The weeks that followed your decision to stay in Madrid were filled with a rare kind of bliss. You and Jude had found a rhythm that felt effortless, your days punctuated by moments of quiet intimacy and your nights by passion that left you both breathless. It was easy to forget the outside world when it was just the two of you, cocooned in your own little bubble. But the bubble had to burst eventually, and it did with the arrival of Trent and Whitney. Whitney and Trent arrived in Madrid with an energy of excitement, and Denise warmly welcomed them into the house. After a quick chat downstairs, Denise mentioned that Jude was upstairs in the shower, you probably just in the room, and sent them up to put their luggage away in one of the guest rooms. As Trent carried the bags up, Whitney trailed behind him, admiring the home decor. When they reached the guest room, Trent placed the suitcases down and stretched. He wandered over to the large window, taking in the view of the rolling Spanish hills. But something else quickly caught his attention. From his vantage point, Trent could see directly onto the balcony connected to Jude's bedroom-and there, completely unaware of their audience, were you and Jude. Jude's hands were gripping your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked into you. Kissing you deeply, the two of you lost in each other, the moment heated and intimate under the Spanish sun. The sound of music and the running shower from inside Jude's room clearly meant to mask the intensity of your connection from anyone nearby.

"Erm… Whit baby, this is one hell of a shower Jude is having." Trent blinked a few times, taken aback for a split second, and then burst out laughing. Barely able to contain himself, he waved her over. Whitney walked over, curious, and followed Trent's gaze.

"Oh my God!" she gasped, immediately reaching to cover Trent's eyes with a mix of shock and laughter. The second she saw what was happening, her eyes widened. "Don't look, T! Oh my God!"

"Hey, they're just... taking advantage of the view. It's their balcony." Trent just chuckled, shaking his head. Whitney, now laughing, peeked again and then sighed, still mortified but amused.

“Well, I guess that's why Y/N enjoys Madrid so much." She kept her hand over Trent's eyes, playfully scolding him, but neither could stop laughing. They both backed away from the window, sharing a knowing look. "Let's let them, uh... finish Jude's 'shower," Whitney said, still giggling. They left the guest room quietly, trying their best not to make any noise as they made their way back downstairs, barely able to contain their laughter at the unexpected scene they'd stumbled upon. Trent had a game against Atletico Madrid yesterday and Whitney decided to tag along and extend their stay. Both their visit and your reconciliation was the perfect excuse for a party. Jude’s sprawling villa in the hills outside Madrid ideal for the occasion—luxurious, private, and large enough to accommodate the guest list that had grown exponentially over the days leading up to the event. The night of the party, the house was transformed. Lights twinkled in the trees that lined the driveway, the pool was lit up in shades of blue, and music pulsed through the speakers around the expansive outdoor space. People had come in droves—teammates, moreover athletes in general, influencers, and socialites. The kind of crowd that made the party a must-attend event, even if you didn’t know the host personally. As the night wore on, the atmosphere grew more electric. The heat of the day had settled into a balmy evening, but the temperature inside the house was rising. Drinks were flowing, laughter echoed off the walls, and the music was loud enough to vibrate through the floors. It was the kind of party where everyone was vying for attention, where girls dressed to the nines tried to catch the eye of one of the many footballers in attendance. But Jude was oblivious to most of it. He stood off to the side, leaning against a column with a drink in hand, his eyes never straying far from you. You were talking with Whitney near the pool, your laugh carrying over the noise, and Jude felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the alcohol. You were radiant tonight, your Ferragamo woven fringe mini dress perfectly draping off your body, your hair slicked back into a low bun exposing your bare back and patina Bottega drop earrings. He wasn’t the only one who noticed, either—he had seen more than a few guys look your way, their eyes lingering a little too long for his liking.

“Hell of a party, mate,” Trent said, coming over, clapping Jude on the back and pulling him out of his reverie, a wide grin on his face as he surveyed the scene. “Who knew you had a knack for this. Give Whit a run for her money. Don’t tell her I said that though.” Trent laughed. Jude followed with a chuckle, but his gaze was still fixed on you.

“Yeah, it’s something. But I really just had Y/N sort it,” he replied, though his mind was elsewhere. The atmosphere was warm, though slightly chaotic. After the rocky week you’d had, being surrounded by friends seemed like the perfect distraction but you were proving to be a distraction for him right now.

“They know how to throw a party, they know how to dress for one as well, hmm?” Trent remarked, nodding toward you and Whitney. He followed Jude’s line of sight and smirked. “Can’t say I blame you for being so distracted, I’m in the same boat.”

“She’s so amazing, bro. I really like having her here” he said, his tone more serious than he intended. “A lot more than I ever thought I would.” Jude tore his eyes away from you long enough to give Trent a look. Trent raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press.

“Yeah, mate, course,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Just don’t let her catch you brooding in the corner all night. Girls like her don’t like that.” Trent joked. He wasn’t really even sure what he meant but the sentiment stood. Jude didn’t need the reminder. He knew exactly how rare you were, and the thought of losing you—even in the smallest way—was enough to make him feel uneasy. But he wasn’t about to let his jealousy ruin the night, not when things had been so good between you. As if sensing his thoughts, you looked over at him, your eyes meeting his across the crowd. You gave him a smile, the kind that made his heart skip a beat, and excused yourself from Whitney to make your way over to him. Jude straightened up as you approached, his earlier tension melting away in your presence.

“Who knew the host was so handsome.” You giggled. “Enjoying the party?” you asked, your voice soft as you reached him, your hand lightly brushing against his arm.

“Not as much as I’m enjoying looking at you,” Jude replied, his lips curving into a smile as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re the most beautiful thing here, you know that?”

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” you teased, though the compliment had clearly flustered you. You blushed, your eyes sparkling as you looked up at him.

“Only when it comes to you,” he said, his hand finding the small of your back, drawing you closer to him. Jude’s smile widened. For a moment, the noise of the party faded into the background, and it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. Jude could feel the familiar pull between you, the magnetic connection that made it impossible to stay away from you for long. He wasn’t sure what it was about you that had gotten so deep under his skin, but he knew he didn’t want it to end. “I’m glad you stayed, angel” he said softly, his voice barely audible over the music. “Thank you so much for coming back.” He sadly smiled.

“I’m glad I stayed too,” you replied, your hand coming up to rest on his chest. “And just so you know, you’re the only one I’m interested in tonight.” You looked up at him, your expression softening under his gaze. Jude felt a surge of relief at your words, the last remnants of his earlier jealousy fading away.

“Good,” he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “Because you’re the only one I want.” He whispered and your heart fluttered. Jude’s house was alive with the sounds of music, laughter, and clinking glasses. Both of you dancing around the fragile reconciliation you both had recently achieved. But, despite the fun, the air held a lingering tension. The party was filled with faces you didn’t recognize, girls who clearly had no idea Jude was seeing anyone.

"Where’s Jude at?" One girl leaned in closer to ask Toby. As the evening progressed, a group of girls gathered near him, drinks in hand, casually glancing around the room.

"He’s with his missus." Without hesitation, Toby, always quick with a response, looked up from his drink, scanning the room.

"Wait, Jude Bellingham is seeing someone?" one of them asked, almost incredulously. “The Jude Bellingham?” The girl almost choked. The girls exchanged surprised glances, clearly caught off guard by the revelation. Toby nodded, eyes scanning the room until they landed on you and Jude. You’d retreated to the corner of Jude’s living room, away from the crowd. You were curled up together on a sofa now, Jude’s arm draped casually yet protectively around your shoulders, both of you wrapped up in quiet conversation. The soft glow of the lights made the scene look almost too intimate for the party’s bustling energy. From across the room, you caught the subtle shift in attention and noticed the group of girls whispering while throwing glances in your direction. Toby’s gaze followed, a smirk playing at his lips as if he knew something they didn’t.

"Maybe we should sit up or, I don’t know, tone it down? People are staring," you whispered, your voice laced with hesitation. Feeling the weight of the eyes on you, you shifted uncomfortably and turned to Jude. But Jude, caught up in the comfort of having you close, shook his head and tightened his grip on you.

“Let them look,” he said casually, brushing a kiss against your temple. "I don’t care what anyone thinks. All I care about is you." You tried to protest again, your self-consciousness rising, but Jude silenced you with a smile that left no room for doubt. He wasn’t hiding you, and for once, you weren’t a secret. Toby, seeing the whole scene unfold, raised his drink in a silent toast from across the room, acknowledging the quiet but significant shift in Jude but there was something almost taunting about it. It wasn’t just about you anymore—it was about you both, together. And whether or not the girls liked it, Jude wasn’t about to let you go and you were trying to read just what Toby thought about that.

As the night wore on, the party continued to buzz around you, the laughter and chatter of the guests creating a lively backdrop to the quieter, more intimate moments Jude and you were sharing. You hadn’t moved in hours. The couch you settled on was plush and inviting, a perfect spot to unwind and steal a few moments for yourselves.You nestled into Jude’s side, your head resting on his chest as he draped an arm around your shoulders. The warmth of his body against your was comforting, grounding you in the midst of the chaos that swirled around you. You were close enough to the action to still feel a part of it, but far enough away that you could have a conversation without having to shout over the noise. You just sat there, content in each other’s presence. Jude absentmindedly played with a tassel of your dress twirling it around his finger as he looked down at you. There was something so peaceful about moments like this—when it was just the two of you, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away. After a while, Jude broke the comfortable silence.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft but carrying an undertone of seriousness, “I’ve been thinking a lot about us lately.” He cooed.

“What about us?” you asked, your voice gentle as you studied his expression. You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes curious. Jude paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. Embarrassingly you were hoping he’d give you some sort of label.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone before,” he admitted, his tone earnest. “You’re… different. You’re like a piece of art—one of those masterpieces that people spend their whole lives searching for. And somehow, I got lucky enough to find you.” Jude’s expression was serious.

“That’s quite the compliment,” you said, your voice touched with amusement. “You’re saying I belong in a museum?” You felt your heart swell at his words, a soft teasing smile playing on your lips.

“Not a museum,” he corrected, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. Jude chuckled, shaking his head. “You belong in a private collection, where only the right person can fully appreciate you. You’re not just beautiful, Y/N. You’re one of a kind.” he mused.

“I think you’re giving me too much credit,” you murmured, though his words had clearly touched you. Your smile widened, but there was a hint of shyness in your eyes. It wasn’t a label but this was a sweet conversation.

“No, I’m not,” Jude insisted, his voice firm but tender. “I mean it. There’s something about you… something I can’t quite put into words. It’s like you’ve got all these layers, and every time I think I’ve figured you out, there’s something new. Like those paintings that reveal something different every time you look at them.”

“You really know how to flatter a girl, don’t you?” you teased, though the affection in your voice was unmistakable. “But you know, I’ve always thought of you as more of a sculpture. Strong, defined… but there’s a softness to you that people don’t see unless they get close enough.” You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head slightly. Jude’s expression softened at your words, his thumb gently stroking your shoulder.

“I like that,” he said quietly. “I like that you see me that way. But I think you’re the first one to get that close to me, Y/N. You’re the artist or maybe the gallerist I guess who brings me to life.” He smiled. You felt a lump form in your throat at the sincerity in his voice. You had always been careful with your heart, afraid of letting anyone get too close, but with Jude, it was different. He saw you in a way no one else did, and that scared you as much as it thrilled you.

“You’re important to me, Jude,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “More than I ever expected. Sometimes I feel like I’m still figuring out what this is… what we are. But I know one thing for sure—I don’t want to lose you.” Jude’s grip on your tightened slightly, as if he were afraid you might slip away.

“You won’t lose me,” he promised, his voice firm. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I want to be here, with you, angel, for as long as you’ll have me, as long as you want to stay.” He gently cooed. You leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, a silent acknowledgment of everything you were feeling but couldn’t quite say. When you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, closing your eyes as you let yourself savor the moment.

“Stay with me tonight,” Jude whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Just like this. I don’t care about the party or anyone else here. I just want you.” He cooed.

“I’m not going anywhere, Judey.” You nodded with a smirk, your voice catching as you replied. As you stayed there with him, Jude felt fear wash over him. Just how smitten he was was ringing every alarm bell. He could feel it and although with you in his arms settling his racing heart he began to panic watching his other world spin around him and you creating a whole new one for him that just didn’t seem to be able to merge. You stayed curled up in Jude’s arms for what felt like hours, the world outside your little bubble fading away as the party continued to swirl around you. The music, the laughter, the clinking of glasses—it all became background noise to the comforting rhythm of Jude’s heartbeat under your ear. You could have stayed like that forever, letting the warmth of his body seep into you, but eventually, the effects of the wine and the hours of sitting began to catch up with you.

“I think I drank a little too much,” you murmured, your voice a mix of amusement and self-awareness as you glanced up at him. You shifted slightly, trying to ignore the way the room tilted ever so slightly as you moved.

“Yeah? You’ve had a long day, angel” he said gently, brushing a stray lock of fallen hair behind your ear. “Why don’t you go up to my bed? I’ll be up in a bit.” Jude’s eyes softened as he looked down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice laced with reluctance. You hesitated, not wanting to leave the safety of his embrace, but the warmth of the alcohol and the late hour were making you drowsy.

“Positive,” Jude replied, his tone taking on a more playful edge as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “And angel… make sure you’re ready for me when I get there.” He whispered. The suggestion in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt a blush creep up your neck. You nodded, your heart fluttering as you pulled yourself away from him and stood up, feeling slightly unsteady on your feet. Jude watched you go, his eyes following you as you made your way through the crowded room. His heart clenched painfully in his chest as he watched your retreating figure. How could he miss someone who was still within his line of sight? The feeling was so foreign, so intense, that it almost overwhelmed him. He had never felt this way about anyone before—so completely taken, so utterly captivated. As soon as you disappeared from view, the atmosphere of the party seemed to rush back at him all at once. Like the crack of thunder. The noise, the lights, the people—it was a jarring contrast to the quiet intimacy he had just shared with you. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the realization of how deeply you had gotten under his skin left him reeling. Before he could process his thoughts, he felt a heavy hand clap down on his shoulder. Jude turned to see Toby grinning at him with a knowing look in his eyes.

“Mate,” Toby said, his voice tinged with amusement, “you’re down so bad. Oh my days.” He laughed.

“What are you talking about?” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant. Jude gave a half-hearted chuckle, shrugging off the comment even as it hit closer to home than he would have liked.

“Don’t be daft” Toby continued, his grin widening. “I saw the way you were looking at her. You’re a complete melt, bro. I never thought I’d see the day.” He raised his eyebrows.

“It’s not like that,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “She’s just… different.” Jude rolled his eyes, trying to brush off the teasing, but he couldn’t shake the feeling Toby’s words had stirred up inside him. Jude felt everything slipping as he was being called out. He felt out of control and he needed to get back to being Jude.

“Different? You mean she’s got you tied in knots, mate. Don’t tell me you’re getting serious about this girl. What are you doing, bro?” Toby raised his eyebrow once more, clearly unconvinced. Jude hesitated, his mind racing. He didn’t want to admit it—to himself or to anyone else—but Toby was right. He was serious about you, more serious than he had ever been about anyone. And that scared the hell out of him.

“Nah, you’re just seeing things,” he said, clapping Toby on the back. “I’m still the same lad I’ve always been.” Not wanting to dwell on the uncomfortable truth, Jude forced a grin and tried to play it off.

“Sure, Jude. Whatever you say.” Toby snorted, clearly not buying it. “But don’t let her keep you on a leash. There’s plenty of fun to be had in Madrid, where she doesn’t live, and here tonight, if you know what I mean.” Toby nodded toward a group of girls nearby, one of whom had been eyeing Jude all night. She was pretty, with a bright smile and a confident air about her. A year ago, Jude wouldn’t have thought twice about going over to talk to her. But now… now all he could think about was you upstairs, waiting for him. But there was a part of him—small but persistent—that didn’t want to let himself be so caught up in one person. He didn’t want to be the guy who got too serious, who lost his edge. He didn’t want to be the guy who let a girl tie him down, who let himself get hurt.

“You know what? You’re right,” he said, though the words felt wrong on his tongue. “Gonna go see what’s out there. Nothing’s changed here.” In a moment of defiance—against Toby’s teasing, against the feelings he couldn’t quite understand—Jude made a decision. He gave Toby a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Toby laughed, clearly pleased with himself, and gave Jude an encouraging shove in the direction of the girl. Jude hesitated for a split second, his heart tugging him in the opposite direction, but then he pushed it down. He wouldn’t let himself get too deep, too invested. Not yet. With that thought in mind, Jude walked over to the girl, putting on his most charming smile, but even as he made small talk, his mind was elsewhere—on the girl who was waiting for him upstairs, the girl who had somehow managed to make him feel things he wasn’t ready to feel.

•

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 8 - Last Night xx

#jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #act ii

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 1 day

Text

Invitation

Inspired by this post, I miss my precious vampire but schl work says no bg3 for me

Astarion stares at the closed tent flap in front of him, at a loss of what to do. He didn't think the argument the both of you had was that serious, but the silent treatment he was receiving right now said otherwise.

You'd stormed off in a huff, retreating into your tent and hadn't come out since, not even for Gale's cooking. That had made the others worried, and Jaheira had advised him to talk to you, but that was proving to be harder that he thought.

He pokes the flap of the tent, watching as the fabric caves beneath his fingertip and then bounces back. He knows you can see the fabric caving inwards, you're not blind, and yet he can hear no movement coming from inside the tent.

Why are so you so mad at him? It was a harmless joke, nothing more than one of his usual quips, yet you didn't react how he thought you would react. He'd rather die again than admit it but he was genuinely very concerned that this argument had broken your relationship. He didn't want to lose what the two of you had, he enjoyed it, enjoyed the moments it had given him, enjoyed the fluttering feeling in his chest it had given him.

Still, the words "I'm sorry" remain buried beneath the honeyed words he's used to saying. Apologising never meant anything good back under Cazador's thumb, and he's uncertain saying those words will do anything to quell your anger. For all he knows, you could react like Cazador, dealing pain and punishment despite his apologetic pleas, but maybe you won't. You haven't laid a hand on him yet, only giving him the silent treatment and stalking off to your tent. He continues to wait outside your tent, fiddling with his thumbs until he gathers the courage to say something.

"Darling? I know you miss me as much as I miss you. We can forget any of this happened, put it all behind us." He laughs nervously. He wants nothing more than pretend nothing happen, to erase the argument if it means you'll continue adventuring with him, continue protecting him. Still, there's no movement from the tent, no indication that you've put the argument behind. Worry gnaws away at him as the silence grows longer, but just as he is about to head back to his tent, the flap to your tent opens and you peek your head out.

His heart soars, chest fluttering with hope at the sight until you duck back into your tent, leaving him all alone outside once more. His shoulders droop and he turns away, crestfallen, but not before pawing at your tent in a last ditch attempt to grab your attention.

Your head pops out of your tent again, an annoyed look on your face. "Make up your mind about whether you want to come in or not."

Astarion blinks. "You'll have to invite me in first if you crave my company, darling."

"I don't believe I have to invite the vampire who isn't burned by sunlight and can stand in running water into my tent," you snort. "But if you sorely want an invitation, I can extend my dearest vampire Astarion Ancunin an invitation into my humble tent."

Astarion's cheeks flush, dusting them a light pink as he wordlessly ducks into your tent, settling on your bedroll out of habit. You seat yourself next to him, a good sign, and watch as he wrestles with what to say. A small smile creeps onto your face as he fumbles with his words, carefully picking them out so as to not offend you while being as genuine as possible.

"I forgive you." Your words are simple, but they cut right through.

His eyes widen, taken aback by the ease with which you say it. You smile softly, reaching for his hand but he pulls away, shaking his head.

"How…how can you forgive me so easily? What do you want from me in exchange? What can I do to earn your forgiveness?" The words tumble out of his mouth unbidden.

"Earn? After I gave it to you?" You tilt your head in confusion.

"I know forgiveness isn't freely given, but I don't understand what it is you want me to do. You don't want to sleep with me, you don't want me to serve you, so what exactly do you keep me around for? Just to pick locks? I'm confused by you and what you want from me!" Astarion nearly screams in frustration, then shrinks, anxiously babbling an apology.

He shies away as you try to move closer to him, his body trembling. His hand move to shield himself, reflexes honed over centuries of torture kicking in. You move backwards, giving him some space and he shakily looks up at you, confusion written all over his face.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Astarion. I will never hurt you, I swear." You upturn your hands, showing him that you pose no threat and he slowly relaxes.

"I…" He mumbles, picking at his nails nervously.

"It's alright, you don't have to say or do anything." You wave your hand. "Take your time."

He quietly sits there, contemplating his next move as you busy yourself with fluffing up the pillows and neatly arranging the bedroll. He silently watches you, his chest fluttering weirdly when he realises you're preparing the bedroll for him as well. This sort of affection…was a rare occurrence and even if it did occur, it was never to such a degree. Astarion lets out a sigh, and decides the best course of action is to address the argument the both of you had.

"Y/N…about the…little argument we had earlier…"

"Mmhm."

"I…want to apologise for what I said. I didn't…realise it would affect you that much." He takes a deep breath, forcing the next words out.

"I'm sorry."

You smile, reaching over to rest your hand gently on his. "I know, and I forgive you. I can't seem to bring myself to even hate you."

A laugh bubbles from your chest and you give his hand a squeeze. He squeezes back, the tension within him dissipating as you continue laughing, and soon he finds himself smiling. A fuzzy warmth envelops him and he shifts closer to you, wanting more of the warmth and light emanating from you. You tentatively wrap an arm around his waist and he leans in, indulging your need to be in physical contact with him. He lets your hand rest on his cold cheek, relishing in your gentle touches.

"Next time, invite yourself into my tent, Star." You press a chaste kiss to his lips, grinning cheekily.

"As you wish, my dear. Don't you regret saying it." He pulls you into a full kiss, hungrily devouring your lips.

"Never."

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #astarion romance #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #durgestarion #astarion #astarion fluff #astarion fanfic #astarion fic

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cowboybeepboop · 3 days

Note

If you’re still taking requests, could you do a smut of reader giving Scott a blowjob?

Love your writing 😍

Pairing: Scott Miller x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut with a little plot

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: none other than obviously a blowie and it being road head

a/n: Thank you so much 🙂 I’ve been slowly posting drafts bc I’m back in uni so my time is limited but I had to hop on this immediately 😝🙏 that being said if you have sent me requests TRUST I am working on them/am going to post them soon. As always I hope you enjoy and send me any requests you might have <3

Being assigned to Storm Par was supposed to be your biggest opportunity to do something with your meteorology degree, but of course there was one man standing in the way of you doing anything besides just observing him. Scott never let you drive, give your opinions on where to go, or even just talk to him during your drives.

He gets on your nerves to say the very least. But that just means you do everything you can to get on *his* nerves. Right now that means tapping your nails against the armrest of the door along to the beat of the song.

Scott reaches over and turns off the music, shooting you a gruff glare which earns an annoyed roll of your eyes. “You’re so annoying.” you reply, arms crossing under your breasts as you stare at the road in front of you.

“Oh I’m annoying?” He says mockingly “You’re the one who is always tapping or talking about nonsense. Drives me crazy.” He glances at your crossed arms, your chest being a little more pronounced than usual. He looks away quickly before he thinks about it too much.

“You complain about *everything* Scott.” you groan, eyes shifting over to him, subtly admiring his handsome features. For being such a dick, he truly is beautiful.

“And you always have something to say about my complaining.” He says, rolling his eyes. His voice changes a little as his eyes are briefly fixated on the way your chest bounces with each bump in the road. He doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but he enjoys when you bicker over little things.

You huff a sigh, your eyes following his gaze. A small smile plays at the corner of your lips as you squeeze your arms tighter making your cleavage even more noticeable. He can’t help but watch as you squeeze your arms. His gaze becomes a bit more intense as he takes in the shape of your chest.

He quickly glances up at the road so you don’t catch him staring before clearing his throat. “Are you trying to cause us to crash or something?” he says, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“How would I do that?” you turn to face him, lips pouting while your gaze falls on the slight blush of his cheeks.

“Cause I’m obviously distracted.” he replies with a grumble. His gaze travels down to your pouty lips before snapping back up to the road. He shifts a bit in his seat, feeling the tightness in his jeans grow the longer he looks at you.

“Why are you distracted?” you continue to feign innocence, your hand falling to his thigh as you lean closer.

“I -” his words get caught in his throat as you place your hand on his thigh. The skin under your hand feels like it’s on fire as his jeans do nothing to stop the heat from coming through.

He can’t help but inhale the scent of your perfume, its sweet and floral scent making his head feel hazy. He slowly looks over at you, taking in your features as you lean closer. “You know exactly why.”

You bite down on your lip, fingers teasing his thigh as they run up, closer and closer to where he wants your touch the most. “Is that so?”

His breath hitches in his throat as your fingers slowly run up his thigh. The fabric feels so tight now, and your touch only makes it worse. He tries to focus on the road but you are making it harder to think about anything besides how badly he wants your hands on him.

“Yes.” he says in a low voice. “You’re doing it on purpose.”

“You’ve caught me..” you murmur into his ear, your teeth grazing his lobe softly. A shiver runs down his spine as he feels your teeth against his earlobe.

The heat that’s been building inside of him is now starting to become overwhelming. He wants nothing more than to turn the car around and take you back to his hotel. “What are you trying to do, sweetheart?” he asks, not trying to hide the desire in his voice.

“Just focus on the road Scott.” you guide his face back to the road. “I think I’ve found something I can do that *won’t* annoy you.” your fingers dance over his growing erection, ghosting over the fabric.

A low moan escapes his lips before he can stop it. “Jesus…you’re going to make me crash if you keep that up.” he groans, his grip on the steering wheel tightens as he tries to focus on the road. He looks so much different now, he’s usually so cocky and arrogant but right now he’s completely at your mercy.

“Just keep your eyes ahead..” you mutter, unbuckling your seat belt and leaning over the center console for better access. Your fingers fumbling with his jeans as you work to free his length.

He let out another low groan as he feels you unbutton his pants. He can’t take his eyes off the road, if he looks at you he’s sure he’ll lose control. “What are you doing?” he asks between pants, needing to keep his voice as even and steady as possible.

He’s struggling to stay focused on the road, you’ve never done anything like this before during your drives. You ignore his question, unzipping his pants and palming him through his boxers, leaning down you press a soft yet wet kiss to his clothed cock.

He gasps as he feels your hand and lips through his boxers. He lets out a low moan, his hand dropping off the steering wheel and onto your hair, pushing you down firmly. You let out a soft giggle at his desperation, finally freeing his length from his boxers.

His erection practically springs out of the fabric, tip wet with precum, you glance up at him. “Remember you have to focus on the road, don’t wanna crash.” you tease before sticking out your tongue, licking the tip of his cock softly.

“God…please don’t tease me…I’ll take care of you when we get to the hotel” he groans, his hands desperately gripping the steering wheel as he feels your tongue on his tip. He can drive but it’s definitely getting harder to focus.

He throws his head back in frustration, he just needs to get to the hotel as quickly as possible so he can have you. You take him into your mouth, tongue brushing against the length of him as you push his cock in as far as you can.

You slowly bob your head up and down, eyes closing as you let out a soft moan, loving the feeling of your mouth being so full. “Fuck..” he mumbles, his eyes going from the road to you taking him in your mouth.

He desperately wants to watch you but he knows he can’t, he needs to focus. It’s like torture, the pleasure you are giving him is so overwhelming but he can’t fully enjoy it. His fingers tangle in your hair, his hips bucking up softly as he reacts to your movements.

His tip hits the back of your throat softly causing you to gag, eyes watering as you focus on giving him more pleasure. Your thoughts focused on making him feel good, his hand moving from your hair down your back, his fingers digging into your skin.

You pull back, letting his dick go with a pop as it leaves your mouth, your hand wraps around it while you catch your breath. You slowly stroke him, watching the way his face contorts in pleasure.

“Y/N, baby, please.” he groans, “Suck me some more, I miss your lips.” his fingers wrap around the back of your neck, softly pressing into you. You comply, taking his tip back into your mouth, hand still working around him.

Your movements are slow, almost tortuous, he lets out quiet moans, his hand tightening around you gently. Your tongue swirls around his pink tip, running over each groove as you get lost in the taste of him.

Scott tries to keep his eyes on the road, but he just has to steal one glance at you. As he looks down, his hips buck into your mouth as he lets out a low moan, his warm cum spewing into your mouth.

His head falls back against the headrest, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You pull back, swallowing his seed and wiping your lips, a small smirk finding its way onto your mouth.

“Scott..” you practically purr his name, admiring his pretty flushed face. He starts to come down from the feeling of you, he can’t help but look down at you when you say his name. It’s a rare moment where his expression completely softens as he gazes at you with a look bordering on love.

He quickly regains his composure though, his cocky attitude returning as his chest heaves with each panted breath. “You really made it difficult for me to drive.” he grumbles, but there’s no real annoyance in his voice.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it.” you retort, finding your way back into your seat, buckling yourself safely in the passenger side.

He lets out a huff, still recovering from your treatment. He adjusts himself back into his pants before running a hand through his hair, trying to settle down.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, sweetheart.” he says in a low voice, still thinking about your lips. He turns to you, noticing how proud you look. “You have no idea what I plan to do to you at the hotel.”

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httpscomexe · 3 days

Note

Fic where reader is a mutant and she’s put in a cage fight with Logan

The Leopards Claws

Summary: You’re forced into a cage fight with a familiar face, and he recognizes your spots…

(Find what I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Pairings: Logan Howlett x Hybrid!Reader

Word Count: 1411

(I might make a part two)

“You can’t cage a tiger.”

A little something of a famous saying that your ring master also says. A lot. But it always makes you laugh, since you weren’t a tiger. God he’s so stupid.

You think to yourself as you’re pushed through a crowd, two men gripping your arms, a muzzle on your face like you’re an animal, which, you basically are.

You weren’t sure what to call yourself. A human that was diagnosed with vitiligo before she was born only to find out they were leopard spots and the deformations on your tail bone and head were actually a long tail and cat ears. So yea, you could call yourself a hybrid, mutant, whatever. But you were also a cage fighter. Not by choice, of course.

“Now for the next round, people get ready for the fast, the stunning, and the tricker of a show, Batemans pet Leopard!” You’re shoved into the large cage, and you fall to all fours, your teeth bared and your claws extracted as you hissed at the men who just tossed you in.

“Shut it kitty.” You growl deep in your throat and stand pack up, fixing the small outfit they had you wearing, they wanted as much as your skin exposed as possible to show off your leopard spots, and God was it annoying. But what was more annoying was the cheering of the crowd as you looked around the arena, some of the viewers with whiskers or spots painted on their faces. It was annoying, really. You weren’t exactly an idol.

“And for the competitor!” The announcers voice bothered you the most, and you look up at him in his seat, smirking as you see the eye patch on his left eye, covering where his eye used to be before the first time you escaped the cage. Fucking dick. “The fierce, the hated, and the worst, Wolverine!” Your ears drop immediately. Wolverine? Your head snaps to turn around at the sound of the gate opening, and people toss Wolverine into the cage, he tried to turn back around, banging his fists on the metal cage yelling profanities before turning back towards you. I thought he was dead… You tell yourself, and your lips part slightly, your fangs exposing past your bottom lip as he approaches you slowly, his own claws extracting slowly while yours retract back into normal nails. You couldn’t fight him, he saved you.

“Shit!” You scream as he lunges at you with his claws, and you avoid him like a cat avoiding a fucking cucumber. “Wolv-“

“Uh oh! Looks like we have a FUCKING pussy!” The crowd breaks into laughter, and you leap up onto a high post, looking down at where he can’t reach you.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck, fuck me…” You groan as he stares at you.

“Get the fuck back down here.” He growls at you. “I don’t wanna be electrocuted and I don’t think you do either.” He shouts, and the guards press the button on their taser as a warning, little sparks jumping out of the wires. The crowd going quiet as they watch.

“Come on kitty, you’re supposed to be a leopard, not a pussy!” One of the viewers yell, and you turn to him, hissing and showing your fangs, then you feel a yank on your tail before you’re pulled back down to the cold concrete ground, Wolverine is on you in less than a second, but you crawl back out, your leopard agility making you fast.

“W-“

“Shut the fuck up and fight…” He growls, swiping his claws at you again.”

“Wol-“

“Shut the fuck up!” He shouts, lunging at you and you fall to the ground, him on top, but just as his fist is about to collide with your nose…

“Logan!” You whine, covering your face with your hands, and he freezes.

“How the fuck do you know my name…?” He growls, staying quiet so the guards don’t hear.

“You’re Logan… you don’t remember me…? You- you died, how are you here? Our daughter missed you, she…-“

“Daughter…?” His claws slowly retract, and you feel his body becoming less tense.

“You don’t remember them…?”

“Hey! You’re supposed to be fighting!” One of the guard shouts, and Logan shoots them a look.

“I’m not the Logan you know…” He growls back down at you, lowering his fist.

“Please… please don’t fight me…” You watch the way his face contorts, from anger, to confusion, to some other emotion. He didn’t wanna fight you from the beginning, and he sure as hell didn’t want to now. He confirmed it as he stood up, and helped you to your feet. “They don’t have guns, just tasers…”

“I know… stay put.” He says lowly, then moves to the wall of the cage.

“Hey, what’re you-?” His hands grip the cage, his fingers gripping it with all of his strength, then he pulls it away like nothing, bending the entire cage which snaps in some spots before he tears off a section big enough for him to walk through, and the men and women in the crowd begin screaming, but you stay put. “Shit!” The guard sticks the large taser against Logan’s chest and Logan only grumbles, his face turning into anger before he grips the device, ripping it out of the man’s hands and slamming it over his skull, creating the most bone cracking disgusting sound you’ve ever heard.

His rips through people easily, tearing open their skin with his claws and kicking their skulls in with no effort but all good results as they fall to the floor, going through them one by one before they were all dead. Except the announcer, who you’ve kept your eyes on the entire time… crouched behind his table…

You know you were told to stay put, but you couldn’t help it. You leave the cage as Logan tears through more bodies, and you creep up to the balcony where the announcer was, only standing when you were behind him, and he turns around to the sound of your claws extracting and being dragging across the wall.

“Wait no…” He chuckles in fear, putting his hands up in defense. That stupid fucking smile on his face as he tries to talk to you, but all of his words go one ear and out the other. His voice shaking only fueling you.

Then you grab him by his throat, lifting him to his feet before slowly dragging your claws from the horizon of his forehead between his skin and his scalp all the way down to between his collar bones, leaving a deep cut of your claws in place of his skin, blood leaking down your hand and his chest, seeping into his shirt.

“Fuck you…” You hiss, landing a kick on his stomach and you watch as he falls to the floor beneath you, and Logan’s eyes meet yours from below as his three claws find their way into the last man’s throat, and you hop down, of course, landing on all fours.

You’re a cat after all, but just as you’re about to say something..

“You look just like her.” He says suddenly, his hand coming up to brush hair from your face.

“Like who…?”

“Like my Leopard…”

“Your leopard…?”

“It’s a long story.” He tells you, his hand moving down to find yours, your fingers lacing. “Is her name also Charlotte…?” He asks quietly, and you nod, a tear dripping down your cheek.

“Is yours?” He nods as well, and you have the overwhelming need to hug him, and you do, throwing your arms around his neck and standing on your toes to reach him, your tail looping around his leg as much as it could. “What happened…? To her…” He takes a deep breath, his arms wrapping around your waist…

“I lost everyone… including my daughter…”

“Do you wanna stay with me?” You ask without thinking.

“Are you sure…? You don’t mean that…” He pulls back slightly, his hands moving to your shoulders.

“I mean it… I mean… You look just like my Logan…” You stare into his eyes, your own hands moving to cup his face. And you could see the hurt in his eyes.

“Your Logan…? and he?”

“Mhm…”

“Shit…” He chuckles, a little in pain but also partly at the opposite ways your lives turned out and he squeezes you a little, holding back tears.

“I’d love to come with you…”

🏷️: @malavera @brushworth

#marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #x reader #wolverine #logan howlett #logan x reader #hybrid reader #xmen #worst wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan #hugh jackman

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astrofhobia · 2 days

Text

Post-Mortem AU

It would be amazing to have a Tsams AU based on mexican culture, where real moments from the history of that country are interpreted... WAIT

PUM 💥💥 I'm here.

I started designing these guys again a bit, I didn't really like their first designs that much, but I definitely like these ones.

For now, we have three, the most important ones, within this messy story.

The Sun, The Moon and The Eclipse

I want to give a little information about these silly guys, also some fun facts.

Sunrise

Sunrise. Called "Life" in this AU. Life is the third child of the "Creator" and the youngest. His older siblings are Lunar and Earth. He was born when a star appeared in the universe, the brightest and largest star the universe had ever seen, for this reason, he is considered the god of light, the god of the sun.

His purity caught the attention of "Creator" and he proclaimed him as his son.

Life's arrival brought many changes to the universe. And thanks to him, he convinced the other gods to create things that would worship them, based on the perfection of his father. Life called them "humans" tiny humans who lived on a balanced planet, the Earth.

Sun brought mankind. And mankind called him "The god of the creation" "The god of the Sun" "The god of the life".

Sun used to rule the earth. That was for a long time... Until things started to go wrong, very very wrong.

Moondrop. They used to call her "Death" in this universe.

She was born when the first human died. The bones of that human had joined together into a sticky mass which had formed a body and finally, a consciousness. "Creator" didn't consider her a daughter of purity. But "Killcode" did, he proclaimed her his daughter, his little daughter.

She didn't usually communicate much with the other gods, she always, always kept her distance, in her own bubble.

She used to have a kingdom, "Mictlán", where the souls of humans could rest for eternity. The place used to be quite... Depressing. Souls rested... But the place was completely alone, filled with the bones of humans and only Death there...

Something you really should know. She's not here anymore.

Eclipse. Called "Death" in this AU.

War. It was his first name. He was born from Killcode's blood, the drops of red blood fell. They formed a large puddle. And from that puddle, War appeared.

Creator considered him a god... different. He really repudiated his existence. But Killcode didn't, he called him his son. His first son.

Nobody knows that. He just appeared one day with the other gods.

His arrival was controversial. The gods called him "A mad god"...

Actually, Death has forgotten most of his past. He doesn't really know how he existed, or why he is the "god of death".

Fun facts

Death has the same personality as Eclipse (EAPS).

Death (Eclipse) often has constant nightmares. Surrounded by fire as his metallic body slowly burns until he wakes up, locked in a room without light until darkness consumes him completely, bloodcurdling screams of children, etc.

Death's body parts constantly fail, they just stop working for no reason. It's something... really annoying.

Death feels nauseous at the sight of blood, he really can't stand it.

Death is uncomfortable being around a lot of children, he doesn't really know why. He is not bothered by noise, if they are dirty or naughty, he simply cannot be with children for a long time.

Death is the current prince/god of Mictlán.

Death doesn't like the rain.

Death and Life live together on Earth. They live like normal humans, in a lower-middle class house, they pay taxes and are afraid of the SAT.

Life maintains the same personality as Dark Sun (SAMS) but here it is a little calmer and much more depressing.

Life has a place to sleep. He literally has a bed that he shares with Death but the idiot can end up sleeping in a shower if he wants because he's a weirdo.

Life, ironically enough, hates humanity. No one knows why.

Life can't stand loud noise, make some noise when he's upset and you probably have a ticket to Mictlán.

If Life really had to work in the human world he would be a doctor. An emergency doctor, he practically created anatomy, he can work with this.

Life used to run a daycare alongside Death (Moon). It burned down.

Death really likes music with movement, salsa, cumbia, she's really good at that.

Death's clothing is inspired by the catrina and the traditional clothing of Nuevo Leon, Mexico.

Death hates fire.

Death really wants to stab Life.

The skull on Death and Death's chest isn't just decoration. It's practically their exposed cores. Rip that off their chest and they'll probably pass out immediately.

Death and Life are Pro-PRI. Life is ignorant. Death is evil.

Death is Pro-PAN. She really is a evil girl.

If you want to know more about these fools, you can ask, my inbox¿ is open

#Post-Mortem AU #fnaf eclipse #fnaf dca #fnaf oc #fnaf fanart #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #tsams au #Tsams #the sun and moon show #sun and moon show solar #eaps eclipse #esps #the eclipse and puppet show #eclipse and puppet show #tsams sun #tsams moon #tsams dark sun #astro's art

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cottonlemonade · 9 hours

Text

Mr Steal Your Girl

word count: 1311 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Kenma x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, University

warnings: spoilers

synopsis: Kenma tries to ask you out but has awful timing

It was already hard enough to dress for a normal date but finding an outfit for a blind date you didn’t want to go to to begin with was impossible.

Your best friend was annoyed that she couldn’t take you and your chronically single self on any double dates and so decided to take matters into her own hands. At least once every few months she would close her eyes and pick a random guy walking around the campus cafeteria and ask if he was interested in a “cool, funny, smart girl that was just too shy to ask herself” and most of the time that was enough. The date was set, your friend dragged you along and you had a miserable two hours before being allowed to return to your natural habitat - your dorm room.

In her defense, most guys she selected were actually very nice. And except for the last one who had forgotten his wallet, then ate his weight in burgers, let you pay, and had since vanished without a trace or payback, they all knew how to behave. They kept the conversations going, complimented you, and usually asked for a second date, but you liked being alone and besides, dating was stressful. Who needed the whole hassle of getting dressed up and leaving the house? You wanted someone who liked to spend their time indoors, watch movies, play games, build a Lego set or two, snuggle, and snack.

Kenma was convinced that you were perfect for him. Witty, had excellent taste in games and music, and a figure that put every body pillow he ever received as a promo gift to shame. He spent the better part of any lecture twirling his pen in his long fingers and staring at the back of your head, then quickly snapping his eyes the other way, pretending to look intently at the monitor upfront if you happened to turn around during a stretch. He remembered overhearing one of his former classmates once saying that asking someone out was easy, but now that Kenma absently drew a heart with your initials on the side of his notes, he found he didn’t share that sentiment. Partly because he didn’t like to go out in the first place, so how would he convincingly invite someone to something he didn’t even want to go to either?

None of his friends knew about his crush on you and he wasn’t going to admit it to them. Not because he would be embarrassed if they knew, but because he didn’t want to be grouped together with your small and not-so-secret on-campus fan club - a bunch of desperate boys who all wanted a piece of the chubby queen of homebodies. So he denied any allegations that quickening his sluggish steps on the way to the lecture hall to sit in your vicinity, his sleep-deprived heart eyes and doodle-adorned notepads meant anything. Pondering, he tapped the tip of his pen onto the paper, trying to figure out a way to invite you to play games with him, romantically. He wasn‘t going to stoop as low as to ask Kuroo for help and instead took to the wild seas of the internet for advice.

As he scrolled through the many many forums, sifting through mostly bad ideas, he overheard one of your friends say, “It‘s just dinner and a movie. Give him a chance. He is the captain of the swim team after all.“

Kenma‘s heart sank - and then bounced back up immediately when you groaned.

“Look, it‘s sweet and … a little concerning how much you care about my love life, but I‘m not interested in him. Or anyone really. I just prefer to be alone.“

100% understanding and agreeing with you, Kenma chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking if it would come across as weird and creepy if he were to ask you to be alone together.

“But I worry about you.“, the friend pouted.

You laughed and gently put a hand on her shoulder, “Not everyone meets the love of their life at university.“

In truth, you just didn‘t want your friend to know about your ridiculous crush on Kodzuken. Your heart had almost jumped out of your chest when you first spotted the tell-tale half-dyed ponytail in your class and heard the all too familiar voice during a presentation project. It was silly, really, and you did well pushing your infatuation to the very back of your mind.

After all, whenever you tried to catch a glimpse of him he would look away immediately, making it all too clear that wasn‘t interested in a conversation.

It was no use either way. Your friend wouldn‘t stop pushing until you were social for an evening so you chose your usual - well fitted jeans and a thin, long sleeved sweater to keep the cold and any potential bodily contact to a minimum. Your friend waved when she recognized you getting off the bus. She was already waiting in the arms of her boyfriend with a tower of a guy right next to them, who, when seeing who his set-up was going to be, looked a little disappointed. Oh great.

Kenma felt more pathetic by the second. All day he had tried to work up the courage to catch you in a calm minute to ask you out before your date. If it went well with that guy, chances were he wouldn’t ever let you go (if he knew what was best for him), so this was basically his last opportunity ever. When he didn’t manage to ask during class, then neither during lunch, nor in the library he never went to before, and neither at the bus stop, he thought he might as well face the fact that it wasn’t meant to be. But he found himself a few hours later behind you in the queue at the movie theater, he heard you were planning to go to. He would have to ask now before he’d have to buy a ticket. As he politely waited for a lull in the conversation between you and the Iron Man your friend set you up with, Kenma tried to busy himself with a game on his phone to calm his nerves. But he became so engrossed in a level that he missed his chance and could only watch you walk away with your friends. He should just give up. This was ludicrous.

“One ticket to whatever movie they just went to.”, he said before he could stop himself.

Just turn around. Turn around and leave. Come on.

But his feet had other plans. With the overpriced movie stub in hand, he shuffled to the auditorium and searched in the crowd for you. Unfortunately, the first marker he found was the tall guy next to you, talking to your friend and boyfriend, leaving you to sit quietly and awkwardly to the side.

He walked up the steps and your eyes met. Your cheeks blushed, as did his, and with the confidence of a deflated balloon, he came to a halt next to you, hands in his pockets.

“Hey y/n, I’m Kenma. I’m in your business class.”

“I know.”, you said and he was already relieved. First hurdle down. Now, carefully…

“Do you wanna go to a gaming café together?”

“Wha- right now?”

“I mean, yeah, if you don’t have anything else going on.”, he looked past you to the guy who just stared at him in disbelief and added in appeasement of your date, “Nothing personal.”

You exchanged a look with your friend who was just as shocked as the others and she shrugged. You turned back to Kenma.

“Sure thing.”

He held out his hand, then felt silly doing so and was about to lower it when you grabbed it.

“Lead the way.”, you said brightly and he did.

#kenma x chubby reader #kenma kozume x reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu x curvy reader #kenma x you #kenma fluff #kenma kuzome #kenma x reader #hq kenma #haikyuu kenma #kozume kenma #kenma #kenma x y/n

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nthspecialll · 1 day

Note

Hiii! I love all your character analysis posts and theories so much, and was wondering if you have done any theories about where the gang was before Blackwater, by chance? I think I saw a post recently mentioning Montana but I can't for the life of me remember if it was you who posted it or not! 😅

But I've wondered about their locations before RDR2 a lot and would love to hear your thoughts about it. I remember reading a very early page in Arthur's journal about how they were in the Northen Grizzlies? But apart from that I can't remember anything else about locations, if there were any mentioned. And I'm sorry if you have done a post like this already, it's just a little piece of the backstory I'd like to hear theories about 😊

I have not talked about it but I definetely can! Also thank you for liking my stuff!!

Well, firstly, some places that exist in real life does not exist in red dead and those are the places on the map. Texas is New Austin, New Orleans is Saint Denis and Luisiana is Lemoyne, meanwhile Californa and New York does exist in game, meaning we can't completely be sure what places exist unless they are directly mentioned.

Firstly, we know they have been in Chicago, that is where Dutch and Hosea met! Then in 1877 the pair went to Kettering, Ohio, where they scammed 300$ out of the residents, later that year we know that they met Arthur in the Northern states somewhere, which could also be Montana! We do not know more than it was someplace in the North.

We also know some time before they met Arthur, they went to Blackwater once but exactly when we do not know.

In 1885 we know they were in Illinois, saving and picking up John Marston and two years later they robbed their first bank Lee and Hoyt, which we do not know where is.

But between then and 1898, they robbed 36 banks across the frontier as stated by Ross in rdr1, which is where we get the famous "We were told there was a price when we reached 50." The wiki page of the VDL gang does say they came to Montana in 1898 but they won't give me source to confirm it, which is a little annoying, but just mentioning it.

We know at some point between 1893 and 1898, after Bill joining the gang, they went to Canada, him, Arthur and Uncle robbing a bank together.

We also know that for a while they would return to the same places for Arthur's romances. Both with Eliza, where he could pop by every few months and for Mary, whom they at least returned to after 1894 when Abigail joined, and before the deaths of Annabelle and Bessie.

Either way, now we come to the fun parts, around winter 1898, the gang was up in what is called the Northern Grizzles, we only have access to the western (Around Mount Hagen) and Eastern (O'Creagh's Run), so I would assume that the Northen are outside the map, probably up above the Wapiti Reservation somewhere.

They traveled down the "Western Foothill of the mountians", not sure what road they took as it could be one off map, which I would honestly guess, probably traveling around the cold of Colter and coming in from left side of the map. Either way, they most likely ended up somewhere down by and Big Valley, which can match up with the fact that Arthur mentions that life was good and food was easy to find. That area does have a lot of easy food access and so forth.

Now I have seen a few people say Dutch met Micah in Strawberry, which is honestly very fair assumption, it matches up with a lot, but a simple fact is forgotten, Strawberry does not have a bar, which is where they met.

I would say that Micah most likely had been in Strawb and done, whatever business he had with Slim and Martha (I believe their names were), and traveled up and out of map where he met Dutch and then decided to join them back down.

Afterwards they traveled down to Blackwater where they "hid in plain sight" right outside town as Arthur says he does not like being so close to the town, and considering how close they were to Valentine, I would guess they camped at the ledges where Charles and Javier hides when going to find Sean, either there or the other side of the town.

Blackwater Camp:

But even though they were camped so close to down, Arthur funnily enough still stayed in town from time to time. It does however not seem that they were settled there or in Big Valley for very long, as Arthur also says that they have been running more than normally those weeks.

Now we get to a bit that confuses me because suddenly the group goes from the southern part of the map down in Blackwater, to suddenly appearing up by Spider Grove by Colter, and Arthur mentions that they headed "east over the Grizzlies" so they went west from Blackwater, out of the map, and then up North only to go east again. Not to mention that it seems they did it in a fairly short time, they haven't had proper time to talk about what happened, they were still shook, Davey was not yet dead from a gut wound and Jenny was burried not far from where we first see the gang?

See that is a little confusing, but I hope that answers your question! I had a lot of fun answering it at least, rereading Arthur's journal and all.

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diii1101-lads · 2 days

Text

Dark Xavier Emerges.

MDNI, 🔞 18+ explicit nsfw content ahead. MDNI 🔞

Tags:

Light Fear play

Instant regret

Breeding kink (with no consequences)

General Yandere behavior

Light sadism

Aftercare

Hand necklace

You’re a ragdoll.

Xavier x fem reader

Play this to hear what music I listened to while writing this. Really put me in the writing mood.⤵️

Writer note: I haven’t written any fanfic in forever so please bear with me if the story feels weird. I tried y’all😭. I’ll probably do some art soon for this and put it up on a Patreon I’ll create soon where I can comfortably post more explicit art. Please feel free to share your thoughts IF you’re 18+ on this.

“How much did you buy?” Xavier demands in shock and annoyance, his sapphire eyes slowly narrowing to slits.

Amused and intrigued by this side of Xavier you’ve only managed to see once in a while, you smile inside secretly. Your plan to see how much of his dark side you could provoke to come out was slowly working. Yes you knew it was toxic and manipulative on your end to stoke his ire but Gods did it get you hot and bothered when the light in his eyes dimmed and his voice grew firm, husky, Dangerous. You wanted to know what that was like when he focused that dark side of his, in bed, on YOU.

You playfully shove at his unyielding hard chest caging you in on the single sofa he had moments ago cornered you to.

“Move! We can’t keep the delivery guy waiting” you whine with a soft laugh, your eyes soaking in his annoyed but still so handsome face.

“Nope” came the firm reply and an even firmer hand sliding up yours on his chest to grip and slowly bring it back down between the two of you.

“ I won’t let you go, until I hear the answer I want” the cold firm tone was said in a deep husky voice. The usually soft innocent expression of his was now gone and replaced with a cool almost predatory one. His already dark sapphire eyes almost black and now hooded, soft locks of his greyish hair falling into them.

Fuck… you thought eagerly. Here he was, Dark Xavier, this side of him you affectionately nicknamed.

You could feel your lower belly clench in pleasure, your pussy was damn near throbbing already.

A loud pounding at the door causes both of you to jump, Xavier startles and glances over at the door with a fierce scowl. He was distracted enough that you managed to wrench your hand out of his now loose grip and push him softly but quickly out of the way as you made a hasty escape from his cage and towards the door.

“Cominggg! Hold on I’m coming sir!”

If you had glanced behind you, you would have noticed Xavier’s lips raise in an unnatural smile as he watched your enthusiastic figure race to the door. coming? calling another man sir and yelling about coming? he thought, his mind warping your words, you wouldn’t be doing that this evening unless you BEGGED and gave him the exact answer he needed to hear.

After getting your package of more Lumiere merchandise and food ordered, your next plan was getting Xavier’s reluctant help in setting up the Lumiere toys and cardboard cutout in your room, you positioned the cutout directly by your bed earning yourself and the innnocent cutout a heavy dark stare.

Uh ohhhhh, you thought with an inner snicker. He was slowly losing it, you could feel the heavy aura in the bedroom. Now was the time to coax him to bed and show your “appreciation” for his help these past few days. Truthfully your injuries had healed well and you would’ve gone back to work but Xavier definitely wouldn’t have approved. Plus he seemed to really enjoy personally taking care of you.

You slowly strip out of the pajama bottoms and flannel top you had on, revealing the cute red lacy underwear set you had bought just for tonight.

Unfortunately the lacy panty was half drenched with your arousal but the sharp intake of breath you heard from Xavier seated on your bed made it worth keeping it on. You could feel that possessive almost hungry stare slowly sliding up your body and back down leaving you jittery and achy with anticipation.

To add more fuel to the fire you had cultivated all these few days, you pick up the handsome Lumiere ball joint doll you had managed to snag online before it sold out from your vanity and give it a quick sweet kiss on its resin cheek. “Goodnight my handsome Lumiere” you coo at it.

A sudden low snarl from the bed almost makes you drop the doll to the hardwood floor in shock, you whip your head so fast to catch Xavier’s angered face you almost give yourself a crick in the neck. You slowly place the ball joint doll back on your vanity.

Now your heart is pounding because Xavier’s off the bed now, slowly walking towards you. His expression twisted into a faint calm smile but the energy he’s giving off is anything but calm.

“X-Xavier?” You half ask half whisper. Taking an involuntary step away from his slowly advancing figure. All of a sudden the room feels too small and not enough room to escape.

Xavier lets out a soft flat chuckle, he watches you with those deep unwavering sapphire eyes of his but…his smile feels wrong, almost mocking and…cruel.

“Ahh so you do remember my name after all, Star” the deep flat voice sends alarming goosebumps down your skin. You’re caught off guard by the sudden temperature drop in the room and the sudden feeling of intimidation. You shuffle back another step almost reaching your bathroom door, your heart is racing, you feel that confusing mixture of sudden fear but titillation dampening your lacy panty. Your legs are shaking as you stare at that predatory animal gait still approaching you.

This was what you wanted but maybe just maybe, you had pushed him too far? You’re all of a sudden not sure how far Xavier might go with you tonight.

“Star? Why are you backing away from me?” Xavier asks softly with faint audible amusement, his expression still the flat calm.

Heart thudding out of your chest, you immediately turn to the bathroom door intending to dart inside and slam it shut to at least get a few seconds to shake off the chill you’re feeling and calm down.

A large palm shoots out right past your ear and slams the door you just managed to open, violently shut.

Legs almost giving out beneath you, you shakily turn and find yourself staring up at the dark blown out pupils staring blankly down at you.

“X-Xavier plea-“

All of a sudden you’re picked up and thrown over his shoulder, your world is upside down, head facing down at his bottom and legs while your ass is up in the air. Did he just? Manhandle you?!

As if he heard your stunned inner dialogue, A hard sting on your almost bare ass sends a shocking burn that wrings a startled squeal out of you.

XAVIER?!

Just

SPANKED ME?!

you’re too speechless to even try and protest before you find yourself sailing through to the bed and damn near bouncing off of it. But he’s there, palm pushing you back down hard.

You stare up at him, mouth dropped open in a breathless wheeze of near terror. Somehow your confused horny pussy thinks it’s go time and throbs with a need to be filled by this unhinged man giving you the same amused twisted smile.

Without hesitation a large hand sensually wraps around your throat and drags you up firmly to demanding lips.

Xavier’s kiss is domineering, possessive and utterly overwhelming. His soft lips draw out moans from you quickly enough but before you can actually start reciprocating, he sinks his teeth to your bottom lips causing you to draw back with a sudden wince. You’re wide eyed, disbelief written plainly on your face. Gentle soft Xavier has definitely left the building. In front of you is exactly the man you were hoping for.

“Since my little Star thinks I’m harsh and cruel” Xavier’s other free hand strokes down from your heaving chest, stopping briefly to squeeze dark hard nipples, this illicits a slightly pained but aroused whimper out of your lips. He answers that with a groan of pleasure, hooded sapphire eyes soaking up your half scared half aroused expression.

“I do love that look on your face Star, but I want you needy and whimpering on my dick, mind blank while I breed you in front of HIM” Xavier directs his cruel gaze at the cutout Lumiere board by the bed, beautiful face twisting again.

“let’s see if Lumiere can save you then? Hmm?” He looks back down at you, beneath long pale lashes the cruel gaze softens to something eager but perverse.

“Wait, Xavier, surely you know Lumiere-“ you can barely finish your sentence before he pulls you like a ragdoll and positions you on your stomach. While you don’t hate this, your heart is still thudding in your chest at how quickly “Dark Xavier” showed up and how intense this actually was. Much more intense than you imagined in fact. You didn’t know Xavier actually had it in him to be rough like this and actually have a breeding kink to boot or even say dirty stuff in bed so effortlessly?!

" My sweet little star, you shouldn't have said that name again" he slides both hands up your back and down, hands squeezing your plump ass and massaging deeply, causing you to moan helplessly.

"I was going to show some mercy tonight and let you come after all but now-" a hard smack lands on your left butt cheek causing you to jump and attempt to wriggle away but his firm hands holds you down and steady. He rubs over the stinging ass cheek soothingly, a whisper of Soft Xavier appearing again.

You could swear there's a sweet smile on his lips as he says "but now I have to keep being harsh and cruel"

Xavier positioned you directly in front of the Lumiere cutout board, it seems very intentionally.

So this would be a ravaging, claiming in front of his alter ego Lumiere. Still moving you around like a ragdoll, both hands on your hips pull your ass up so you're in a collapsed doggy position. You tense as his hands slide down from your ass to your soaked lacy panty.

Another sharp intake of breath from him as his fingers slip past the fabric and press right against your swollen clit. "Ohhhh you're sopping wet princess" his voice is back to a low breathy moan.

"So you do like me being harsh and cruel after all? Hmm?" Firm fingers rub your clit slowly, causing you to whimper and moan into the pillow. A finger slides lower, slipping into your pussy easily, another finger joins in, then another, all knuckles deep as he massages the spot he recently discovered drove you wild since you two started sleeping together two weeks ago.

You try to hide your moans as your mouth falls open and you rock back against the thick digits fucking you.

Gods Xavier knew just how to finger you and have your mind grow fuzzy. You feel that rush of an orgasm approaching and fuck you're almost there. You rock back against his scissoring fingers harder, panting, limbs trembling, eyes squeezing shut as you cream all over his hand. "Almost there", you choke out through gritted teeth.

"Oh? did I say you could cum Star?" Xavier's cold harsh voice by your ear and his swift withdrawal of his perfect fingers splashes cold water over the impending bliss.

"N-no p-please I was almost there!" you cry out in dazed confusion. Your pussy clenches on air, you're left trembling and suddenly anger rushes through you, fogging your brain, causing your mouth to say the worst thing ever. You sit up on your knees and glare frostily at the still gently smiling Xavier next to you on the bed.

" Lumiere would've let me come" you snark, victoriously waiting to see the anger on his face.

The room suddenly grows heavy in pressure and drops in temperature again. The still gentle smile is there on Xavier's soft lips, but it feels...condescending now.

"Lumiere... would make you cum? Is that so Princess?" Xavier asks gently in that low sensual voice of his, one eyebrow arched in mock surprise, a little chuckle follows the question.

You stare up at his sharp sapphire eyes and you feel that you made a deep mistake. Xavier's PISSED. Damn it! You curse your sharp reckless mouth and shuffle away from him in bed, attempting yet again to escape the consequences of your action.

You barely make it across the bed before Xavier has you pinned down beneath him swiftly, his firm hands clamping yours down over your head, you struggle beneath him, heart racing, attempting to buck him off of you, but he's immovable, straddling you. He'd always been very strong for someone that didn't have bulging muscles and didn't seem fond of working out.

You feel that difference in physical strength now and while its overwhelming, you find that this...is actually turning you on.

Then you feel it, the heavy bulge through his thin grey sweatpants pressing against your groin, Xavier is raging hard and excited, there's a feverish look in his dark eyes now. His smile is smug, satisfied. "You're not going anywhere Star" he leans down over you to whisper, warm lips brushing over the shell of your ear, the soft warm tip of his tongue trails up your ear and you whimper because that's one of your weak spots, your ears are particularly sensitive.

"W-wait Xavier, I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that!, I’m so sorry!" You moan out, attempting to move your overstimulated ear away from his sensual touch. But he's relentless, applying the right amount of lips and tongue and now teeth as he bites your ear lobe.

You cry out, racked by a tingly orgasm that takes you suddenly. It's almost embarrassing that you're coming just from this alone.

Xavier pulls away with a smirk to admire his handiwork, eyes drinking in your shivering panting form beneath him.

"Yeah, you shouldn't have, but you did" he let's go of one of your wrists to slide his hand down to your breasts that have fallen out of the flimsy lace bra that covered it moments ago.

He tugs on your tits, twisting one nipple gently and another harshly, wringing out pleading whimpers from your lips.

He lets go and reaches down to pull out his hard throbbing dick free from its confines. The head is a ruddy broad mushroom tip slick and drooling with precum, surprisingly thick and long for someone that doesn't look like he should have such a thing attached to him.

You stare up at his lovely face tinged with red, greyish hair hanging over eyes hooded with deep arousal and his pink lips parted as he strokes his fat dick over you. The sound of his hand stroking that beautiful cock has you squirming underneath him, Gods you want it stretching your wet little pussy so bad right now.

"Xavier please, please fuck me" you beg shamelessly, eyes glued to his hand wrapped around that fat weeping dick. He let's go of your other wrist to slide the sopping wet lace panty to the side, adjusting his position so the head of his dick slides up through your folds to your throbbing clit, he teases you like this while you whine and attempt to move your hips so he can slip inside. He glares at you narrowing his eyes in disapproval.

A hard hand wraps around your throat again, not hard enough to stop you breathing but enough to warn you he needs you to behave.

"You'll take whatever I give you right Star?" He asks with that twisted cruel smile back on his innocent face.

You nod desperately, at this point you'd agree to anything so long as you got his dick in you.

"There's a good girl, remember you said yes, Star"

Without hesitation he spears through your little wet hole with his dick and you both groan at the sensation. You almost arch off the bed as you gasp for air at the sudden fullness. His dick is almost too much, too full and too deep already.

Xavier lets out a deep shuddering breath, his eyes are feverish and there's an unstable look to it now.

"Since you want to cum so badly, I'll fulfill your wishes" he murmurs almost to himself, he draws out his dick through your tight grip and snaps his hip forward harshly, jolting you up the bed, you shriek as he finds that pleasurable spot inside you and presses in on it relentlessly.

The sound of flesh against flesh and hard panting fills the room. Your eyes glaze over as Xavier fucks you damn near through the bed. You feel an orgasm fast approaching and you start begging "please let me come Xavierrr please please!"

He lets out a hard short laugh, his hooded eyes glued to his cock plunging in and out of your tight wet pussy that won't let him go, his hand not wrapped around your throat whips out a vibrating bullet from Gods only knew where, pressing it against your slick swollen clit. There’s almost a sadistic light in his eyes now as he turns up the power.

a hard shudder runs through you as you try to squirm away not expecting that kind of stimulation, but he's already on you, holding you down with his body, the bright light in his eyes feverish as he watches you break down into a screaming overstimulated mess on his thick ravaging dick.

"Can Lumiere fuck you into this brainless mess Princess?" He whispers over you, gaze now hard and heavy on your slack face.

You're shaking as another orgasm accompanies the first one.

A soft slap on your clit sends you over the edge to something so intense you actually...Squirt. The orgasm is white and blinding, you don't realize you're screaming until a hand is clamped over your mouth hard.

" I don't want to hear you scream 'Gods' unless it's my name instead" Xavier sneers down at your face. He is relentless, still fucking you through this orgasm, setting an almost punishing pace, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly as you weakly attempt to buck him off of you. You didn’t know having an orgasm could be so unbearable. You crave it and fear it at the same time. Was this really Xavier dominating you so thoroughly?

"Fuck, your pussy is so greedy, Star, it doesn't want to let go, do you love my dick that much princess?" A ragged gasp greets your ears.

You can barely form a thought in your head, you feel like you’re floating out of your body, your mind is full of static and fuzzy. Xavier let's out another amused scoff down over you before shifting you closer to the Lumiere cutout board again.

This time he pulls up your legs, pressing it to your chest arranging you in an instense position that has his dick impossibly deeper. You faintly realize it's a mating press and a deep shiver runs through you. He was really planning on taking you like this, in front of his alter ego?! Dominating you completely like this?

"My little Star just tightened up? You really want me breeding you in front of your precious Lumiere?" Another condescending chuckle greets your ears.

His face is now closer to yours, his hand moves from your neck to your jaw.

"Open up your mouth and stick out your tongue princess, let's french kiss" he whispers, a command he expects you to follow while gazing down at you as his dick starts slowly pounding through your slick achy little pussy.

This position has you breathless and mind still fuzzy. You can only mindlessly obey him, sticking out your tongue as he leans over to suck it into his hot mouth, kissing you hungrily almost sucking up all the air in your lungs.

Xavier’s dick picks up speed, fucking into you animalistically, without mercy.

He pants, pulling away to bite the side of your neck, it’s sends a pleasurable shiver through you.

" Fuck I want to fill you up with my cum Star, gonna give you a creampie" he grunts, breathing harsher as he nears his own orgasm. Sapphire eyes screwed shut.

Your pussy grips him hard, a tight wet muscle massaging his dick mindlessly ravaging you almost instinctually.

"Your greedy pussy loves me doesn't it? You're trying to milk me already princess, such a sweet girl,"

You're creaming on his cock and start trying to squirm away, you feel another orgasm coming, this one threatens to cause a black out and you're instinctively terrified.

"Please I can't take it, it's too much" you blubber out shaking underneath him.

" You can take it Star and you will, relax I'll get you through it, just be good and take all I give you, there’s a good girl. Just like that" Xavier grunts out, hips still pistoning faster. Dick pounding into your cunt.

" Now tell me who do you prefer? Me or Lumiere? Who's breeding this perfect -grunt- pussy right now?"

You're shaking underneath him, weak, barely able to hang on as Xavier takes you hard, deep and rough in the mating press, his determination to own you almost terrifying.

"Answer me or you won't come for a long time Star" the steel is back in his voice again, hand back on your throat, not too hard but a domineering pressure and presence.

"Y-you Xavierrr, YOUU!!" you scream out and the orgasm hits the both of you at the same time.

You black out momentarily like you knew you would, head blank.

An animal like growl comes through Xavier as his dick shoots out ropes and ropes of his thick creamy cum deep into your womb. Your slut pussy mindlessly milks his still hard cock for more.

"Hahhh fucckkk good girl, your pussy is still gulping down my cum, my sweet Star is so perfect, you want more cum don't you princess?”, Xavier whispers into your ear, tongue licking away the salty tears slipping down your cheeks.

Your dazed fucked out face is still so arousing to Xavier and his dick refuses to go down. So he moves your limp body, belly down and mounts you, dick back in you, plugging up the cum that still seeps out anyway. It's another mating press. He really doesn't plan on showing you any mercy tonight.

You slowly come to with Xavier moaning and murmuring sweet words into your ears, dick still buried in your cunt. He's moving slowly now, deep slow fucking that has your breath quickening as Xavier uses your pussy without any signs of stopping, fucking you senseless.

" My sweet little Star feels too good, your pussy is so honest, it wants more doesn't it? You want my cum don't you princess? I'll fill you up soon enough,the only man allowed in here is me. That grip, such a greedy little hole, Star, just for me isn't it?" He pants, eyes glazed over as he ruts into you.

He picks up speed, hand now gripping your hair, pulling your head up off the pillow.

"Answer me, Just. For. Me. Isn't it?" Each word followed by a deep pounding that has you trying to run from his dick. You feel too good, too overstimulated, you don't think you can take another orgasm, it might just kill you.

"Yes Xavier, YES!!" You sob out, clawing at the rumpled bedsheets desperately. "Please I can't take another orgasm! Please no more, I can't do it!" You plead for mercy, tears in your eyes as you look back at Xavier pitifully, whimpering.

Something in him snaps some more, that brainless/fucked out look on your face, the whimpering, the tears and the begging as if he's your whole world tips him to a sudden orgasm that has him rutting his dick in you harder like an animal, he cums so hard it's almost painful for him.

The thick ropes of cum is milked out of him as you tighten your inner muscles causing him to double over and roar his release.

He collapses over you, a panting satisfied mess. Trying his best not to suffocate you, he rolls over to his side pulling you into his chest and cuddles you, soothing you, stroking a soft comforting hand down your soft silky skin. He showers you with soft placating kisses. It seems he accomplished his goal of teaching you a lesson.

You feel Xavier get up to go to the bathroom but you don't move your head to check, you're so exhausted you start sinking into deep sleep.

Xavier comes back with a warm damp washcloth and cleans you up, cuddles you again and rubs your back, whispering sweet praises into your neck. His hard glare at the Lumiere cutout board almost burns a hole through it in the dark bedroom.

You wake up mid afternoon to find Xavier staring at you with a loving look in his now actually calm soft sapphire eyes, he's sitting by the love seat sofa by your bed, flipping through a book he had been reading this past week.

You almost feel like everything that happened last night was a dream, but your achy body tells you it definitely wasn't, you might not be able to walk straight anytime soon it seems.

"You're up Star, umm I got some takeout I can warm up for you" Xavier gets up and approaches you, sitting on the bed and pulling off your head scarf he seemed to have put on you when you fell asleep, he caresses your soft cheek lovingly . Soft sweet Xavier is back, his voice is back to being lighter and carefree, eyes drinking you in possessively and sweetly.

“Ummm, did I scare you last night? Was I too rough on you?” Xavier worriedly asks, scratching at the back of his neck, smile sheepish.

“N-no. I actually enjoyed that Xavier, truly. I just didn’t think you’d be so…kinky” you mutter, feeling your face grow hot at his knowing smile. You look away, glad he can’t see your blush so easily. But your cute physical reactions are telling. He leans over to capture your face and kiss your cheeks and throat sweetly. “you’re so cute my star” he murmurs into your skin.

You sigh and collapse back against the pillow, you’re hungry as hell and still tired, you're gonna be in bed for a bit longer. You remind yourself that maybe trying to bring out Dark Xavier often isn't a good idea, maybe once in a while, last night was hot as hell, you've never cum so hard in your life and been scared to orgasm again. It’s just…you have a feeling you’d probably be orgasmed to near death if you kept provoking that side of him again too soon.

"I love you Xavier" you say smiling sweetly at him. You mean it and you want to reassure him he’s the only man for you.

His already sweet puppy like eyes soften impossibly, "I love you too Star"

"You really are the most jealous man I know Xavier," you muse with a faint giggle.

Almost immediately something dark passes through Xavier's sweet eyes.

Uh Ohhhh…

"You...know other men?" He inquires, voice tense and now low but he still maintains his smile.

You roll your eyes up at the ceiling and sigh. Gods help you.

End.

Writer note: Welp here was the brainrot in my head for Dark Xavier. I’m still figuring out how to write this ml X You content. I don’t know if I’ll do these kind of writing again or stick to using my specific MC.

#yandere #lads xavier #xavier love and deepspace #18+ mdni #black mc #xavier x you #lads smut

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dootznbootz · 2 days

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Can i be honest. I don't get it when people try to use Antigone as a feminist icon or something, or that "She literally died because she didn't listen to man! That's just like us!" Because it's not and we're not living in the 16th century.

And these people are acting like Creon wouldn't have killed her if he was a man. Or that Creon wouldn't have killed her if he was a woman. Like guys, I'm sorry but "Girlboss" feminism is soo annoying.

I saw a post where it's like "Greek mythology male characters: 'He seems chill... Oh he's being a douche to women. Female Greek mythology characters: 'She seem cool... Oh she's getting revenge on the men that wronged her. She's so cool!!"

And in the tags they were hating on Ody for killing the slave girl and calling Medea an icon. Even though Medea killed her two young children just because she was salty at Jason... double standards at their finest, people

Real.

Also people better be mad at Penelope as well if they're mad at Odysseus for the slave girls. She hated them just as much.

Wise Penelope heard his words and rebuked Melantho, saying: “You can be sure, you bold and brazen bitch, that I have seen your shameless acts. You’ll wipe away the stain with your own head. You clearly know full well, because you heard me say it—I’m planning to ask this stranger in my halls some questions about my husband, since I feel such grief.”

(Book 19, Johnston)

People just literally turn a blind eye when the woman also does violence against other women. (Same with Clytemnestra. like sure, she killed Agamemnon but she also screwed up her kids. (one a girl so a lot of these "girlboss" types ideals are contradictory))

And it's really really tough enjoying Medea only to see people "girlboss" her. I love the play. It made me feel so many things but NONE of them were GOOD feelings.

Old meme from a post I made a while back but it sums up my feelings lol.

I think it weirdly comes from this awful wave of "I hate children. Horrible beings. Hope they suffer. etc.etc." bullshit and the girlboss wave :'(

Also um, yeah, Creon would've killed ANYONE who would have buried Polyneices. I've always seen Antigone more as a story of honoring family and a family's love for one another, not so much of a "feminist story". As Creon is like, the opposite of Antigone in how he does not wish to honor his family no matter what and will even have family killed for honoring family.

I weirdly think there's this phenomenon of people seeing stories/myths that simply have women in them, especially if they are "center stage" and then decide that they're feminist regardless of the context.

Like I guess you could say that these stories simply having complex and driven women is feminist (I mean...moreso than most booktok/modern YA novels ;~; where many female leads are very...bland imo) which is very sad that feminism is just the bare minimum of "Hey a woman is a person who is complex."

But it's also like, these women and their meaningful and HUMAN stories are LOST because they're just painted as "girlboss".

I think Antigone would be more like "I mean...I was just trying to bury my brother because I care about him and didn't want to see him left to rot. I would have done it no matter WHAT told me not to." and less about "YASSSS queen SLAY!" shit.

#Mad rambles #ask #shot by odysseus #anon #essay #medea #antigone #odysseus

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zxoaii · 2 days

Text

Between Us

fem! reader x (aged up) Yuji Itadori / Sukuna

Summary: When Sukuna makes a move for Yuji, they both find themselves fighting for control of the situation.

WC: 1.1k

Note: Hi everyone! I don’t usually post JJK fanfiction here but I just started a new wattpad account so I’m trying to get some traction. If you enjoy this short chapter please consider checking out my preferences/oneshots book on wattpad! Characters include all popular JJK men.

Wattpad: _Bolter

[ Y/n ]

"Do you know what I had to do to drag this brat up here?"I couldn't looked more shocked. Sukuna. The four eye, the markings, the assurance.

He leans against my doorframe and takes me in. "You really are beautiful." I could look more shocked. "I'm sorry?" Sukuna takes two steps forward into my apartment.

"This is ok, right?" His rhetorical tone is permanent when asking for anything. Because who would be stupid enough to say no to him?

"Did you know he's been keeping me away from you?" Is he talking about Yuji? "You don't have to be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you." Right.

"I do know how to be a gentleman."

"Is that so?"

We both stare at each other for a moment. I'm sure this is when he'll kill me. "It is." Sukuna takes a seat on my couch.

He gives an annoyed sigh, shaking his head. "I'm sorry." Yuji was keeping Sukuna away from me specifically? He can't possibly mean he has... Romantic feelings for me.

Is he even capable of loving?

"Y/n, I am so sorry. I would never just let myself in like this." Yuji stands up from the couch. Did they just switch? In that moment?

"Stop being a pussy." He slaps his hand over his cheek. It's so much to take in I almost feel frozen. "You are a very beautiful woman and I'd love to take you out for dinner sometime, just maybe not tonight. I need to work some things out."

I shouldn't feel so flattered. They share a body and a mind. It's probably only natural if Yuji fell for me... Sukuna would too.

Right?

I follow Yuji to the door as he lets himself out. "I'm so sorry. Goodnight." He takes not one step out the door before locking up for a moment.

"See? He just can't do it." Sukuna lets himself back into my apartment. "I can." He shuts the door, leaving his hand next to my head. My back presses up against the door.

"Are you scared?"

There's no point in lying, the only real feeling I can distinguish right now is fear. I nod my head slightly. "That's fine." He pulls away to give me space.

My heart races in my chest. Why does this feel so exhilarating?

"What are you doing here?" My voice doesn't tremble like it did the last time I spoke. "That's a little delayed." Despite his space I haven't moved off the door.

"You can't actually be saying to me that you have... What, a crush?" I laugh at saying it aloud. "That's not possible."

"You're right. This is a need."

Oh god, my hand grips the door handle to support myself. "Are you going to run?" Sukuna leans against my counter. "No." Anyone with half a mind and a will to live would run.

"That damn brat..." I watch as the markings fade before me. Yuji has a softness in his gaze Sukuna could never fake.

"Are you ok?" He rushes to my side, grabbing my waist to help me stand. "I can stand I was just feeling a little..." What? Turned on?

"I wanted to make it romantic when I told you. I didn't want this asshole cornering you because it turns him on." I place my hand on his chest. Between the two of them I might need Sukuna to come back.

Is that cruel?

"Are you ok?" Yuji asks again. "I like you too Yuji-" "Really?" He cuts me off before I can finish my sentence. "Really? Would you want to go on a date?" Is he serious?

"Yes, but-"

Yuji cups my face and presses a kiss onto my lips. Finally. I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer. If anyone else suddenly started burning up while we were making out I'd be worried.

The kiss gets rougher. I don't need to open my eyes to know Sukuna is kissing me. And I like it. I must have a death wish.

I have to pull away for a moment to catch my breath. Sukuna takes the opportunity to move down to other places. My head falls away from his, giving him better access to my neck.

His hands slide down to my hips. I really need these two to figure something out. Yuji pulls away from me, brushing his hair out of his face breathlessly.

"What do you want?"

An impossible question. I like Yuji. He's the person I fell for. I shouldn't want anything to do with Sukuna but that moment... I've never been kissed like that.

"I just need a minute to catch my breath." I say as I walk into the kitchen to give myself something to do. Yuji trails behind me slowly.

"I don't want him to mess this up."

"I don't think he wants to either."

The room is silent as I fill a glass with water. I turn the faucet off and immediately start gulping everything inside down.

Yuji grabs the glass from my hand when I finish and leaves it on the counter.

He's less assertive and bold with his movements but when his hand grabs my waist it kills me to not have my body against his.

When our lips finally meet again I notice the hunger behind each movement. He's letting himself have it. Each touch is lingering. His lips are more demanding.

I make my way blindly to the couch, holding him against me the entire way there. I pull away for only a second as my heel hits fabric to lay down.

The glazed look in his eyes remains for a moment before he's switched back to Sukuna. I expect him to say something but it never comes. Instead he leans over me and picks up where we left off.

His hands are more curious. They follow the curves of my body, exploring areas Yuji wouldn't go near. Sukuna kisses me with so much power and lust. I can feel my lips are swollen already.

"Are we going to make out all night?" I whisper against his lips. "No. Just for a few more minutes." He trails some kisses down my neck then attends to my lips again.

It seems like as soon as we start he's pulling away. Instead of going any further, Sukuna fixes his hair and makes his way towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

The grin on his face is all too telling that I gave him exactly what he wanted. A confession that I want him too.

"I find it's so much better when you play the long game with these things."

I watch from the couch as he leaves my apartment. A tease? Did I just get teased by a special grade? Was I really stupid enough to give in? Am I stupid enough to desperately wait for the next time?

Maybe I am.

#fanfic #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #yuji itadori #jjk itadori #itadori #itadori x reader #sukanaxreader #fanfiction #x female reader #jujutsu sorcerer #jjk fanfic

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 2 days

Text

A New World: part 5

Bayverse!Leonardo x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

A/N: It has been some time, so I decided it was more than perfectly fine to post another part to this story. Here ya goooo

Leo is 25, reader is 22 - 23.

Warnings: None so far💙

“Okay”, (Y/N) said while playing with the pen in her hand, in a way Leo only had seen Donnie do it. “How did the other ninja turtles manage to travel through dimension?” The next day (Y/N) had decided to sit down and brainstorm ideas on how to get Leo home. At first Leo wanted to tell her that she was stupid for thinking that they even could do anything, but decided that maybe it would be a good idea to listen to the girl, who had mentioned his bonsai tree and childhood fear of heights, without him ever telling her about it.

“I don’t know, you tell me. I don’t even fully know how Krang did it, but surely I know how I did it in another universe”, Leo said, a little tired with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. It suddenly made sense to (Y/N) why Leo was the way that he was in Rise. Speaking of Leonardo from Rise…

“Well, there is this one version of you that jumps through portals as often as he changes his underwear”. That comment made Leo stare at her, wondering if she truly was mentally stable. “Probably the best place to start. Leo, swing one of your katanas and see if you can make a portal”.

Leo stared at her in bewilderment. “What?”

“You heard me”, (Y/N) said.

“You seriously believe that is going to work?”, Leo asked, raising his brow muscles at her, hoping that she would tell him it was a joke. But of course she didn’t.

“Well, you’re still in my house, and apparently not just a figment of my imagination, so yeah, at this point I would believe that pretty much anything is possible”.

Leo sighed, annoyed over the fact that she once again had a point. He stood up and signaled for (Y/N) to stand back. She quickly did as he took out his katana, noticing the way (Y/N) was staring at him, almost starstruck.

“What?”, he asked.

“Oh nothing”, she said, slightly embarrassed. “Just kind of always wanted to see you do that, sorry. Now continue, don’t mind me”.

This girl. If Leo didn’t manage to get home to his own dimension, this girl would be the death of him.

Leo held the katana in front of him with both hands, feeling the eyes (Y/N) on him. He had no idea how to do it, and he had no idea if it would work. But he went for it, and did a quick circle in the air, hoping for a light of sorts. But nothing. Nothing happened. No lights, no portal, no nothing.

“Well, that didn’t work”, (Y/N) said.

“Nooo waayyy”, Leo said dragging out the words. “I thought there was a portal right there in front of me!” (Y/N) said nothing but just raised a brow at him. “Sorry”, Leo quickly said, putting his katana away. “I tend to get a little stingy when I’m stressed, even-”.

“Sarcastic? Yes, I know. Remember, I’ve seen every version of you in action”, she said, pointing to the movies, still out on the sofa table.

“Oh, yeah, right, I forgot…” Leo felt his face get a little hot. “So, how else have they been able to travel through dimensions?” Leo could just not bring himself to call them “me and my brother”. They were NOT him, and therefore NOT his brothers. His brothers was where he left them, back in his own dimension.

“Well, most of them involve Krang or Shredder, but for obvious reasons we can’t do those”. (Y/N) was thinking, almost so hard that Leo could hear the gears turning in her brain. “There was that one time - no that was Shredder… Or maybe! - no, Krang did that… WHat about! - no, that was time travel and that was Renet… There was also the time April’s uncle got stuck in another universe… but that was Donnie that got them out of there”. Leo sunk back down on the sofa, listening to (Y/N) thinking out loud. None of what she said rang any bells, and at one point he stopped listening, until suddenly…

“The battle nexus!”

“The battle what now?”

(Y/N) just kind of slumped at that, before breathing out something along the lines of; “this is going to be harder than I thought”.

(Y/N) sat down on the small space left for her on the sofa, and started to go on google on her Macbook. As Leo tried to look along over her shoulder, she tilted the laptop away from him. She didn’t need him to know how many TMNT related videos she had been looking at.

“Do you mind?”, she said.

“Oh… sorry”, Leo said, leaning away again, yet he couldn’t shake the suspicious feeling he got from (Y/N)’s actions. She was hiding something. She was friendly, even though Leo found her slightly annoying at times, but she had not yet given him reason to suspect her of any bad intentions. That was the first time he thought she might be up to something.

“Here you go”, she finally said, turning her screen back towards him. Leo was shocked to be met by a video of a cartoon version of him and his brother’s following master Splinter down an alleyway. Yet the first thing he noticed, that he just couldn’t stop himself from saying…

“Why are we naked in that?!” Leo almost jumped on the sofa, shocked and embarrassed, by the actions of he did not commit himself, but another version of him in a different dimension. “Where are their pants?!”

“Believe it or not, the fact that you’re wearing pants is not that common for the TMNT universe”, (Y/N) said, slightly surprised by his reaction. “Now shut up and watch”.

Master Splinter drew a sigal on the wall, before mumbeling a bunch of words unknown to Leonardo. With that he disappeared through the wall of the alleyway. These versions of Leonardo and his brothers did the same thing, following their father into the battle nexus.

“You want me to try that?”, Leo asked.

“Yeah, and if that doesn’t work, I don’t know what else would”.

“Sounds very uplifting”.

And with that, Leo and (Y/N) sat out to create the portal to the battle nexus. They moved the sofa out of the way, and removed a few of the frames on the wall, so they had space to draw the sigal. Following what was shown in the video, they drew the sigal, and reluctantly, Leo started chanting, the way the other version of him did. And once again, nothing. Leo covered his face with his hands, sighing irritated. (Y/N) asked him to try again, so he did, and still nothing.

Now it was (Y/N)’s time to sigh irritated. She dropped down on the moved sofa and started rubbing the temples of her head.

“This is going to be harder than I thought”.

Leo wanted to be sarcastic, and say something along the lines of; “oh, you think so? Really? Not like I didn’t tell you so”, but he decided against it. (Y/N) was only trying to help him as much as she could, even if her means was limited. And it was obviously starting to frustrate her. Annoying or not, she only tried to help Leonardo.

“Maybe we should take a break and try again later”, Leo said before standing up, towering high above (Y/N) in her seat. It never ceased to amaze her, how tall he actually was. “Food and meditation helps the brain”.

“See that sounds a lot like something you would say”, (Y/N) laughed before standing up herself. “How does Chinese takeout sound to you?”

Okay, maybe she wasn’t that annoying after all. But Leo still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. And if it wasn’t (Y/N), then what was it?

—

Somewhere at a location unknown to the public, deep underground, a man was hunched over an open hatch in his big machine, connecting wireless. It was quiet in his laboratory, except from the sounds of his tools working against the metals of his machine. In the observatory on the floor above, sat a human boy, casting glances at the man on the floor below, before returning to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comic in front of him. The exact same comic his father and his workers had taken their code names from for easy convenience. But the boy’s attention was now being taken from the comic at the sight of his father, and the boss of the man in the lap, showing up in the opening elevator behind the man in the lap. He watched as his father walked to the man, hands behind his back, talking, yet his son in the observatory couldn’t hear him through the thick glass. Though he wished he did. Yet he watched them in silence, their mouths moving.

“I hope my son didn’t cause too much trouble”, the boy’s father said in his calm tone, causing the poor scientist to jump in surprise.

“N- no, n- not at all Sir”, the doctor said, casting a quick glance at the circular machine behind him. “Nothing that can’t be fixed”.

The boy’s father took a step closer to the machine, taking it all in with his eyes hidden behind glasses. He then turned back towards the scientist, still with an unreadable facial expression, that caused people to fear him.

“Tell me, Dr. Lilja, how long until the machine is finished?”

The doctor started to fidget with his white sleeves, his fingers digging at the fabric. It had become a bad habit of his.

“It is hard to tell”, started the doctor, keeping his eyes away from the stern man in front of him, instead looking at the big machine by their side. “There’s no doubt that your son didn’t do anything on purpose, but it has given us a bigger setback than I first thought it did. It doesn’t mean that it can’t be fixed, but at this moment, I do not know when that will be. It could take as little as hours, days, but could also take as long as weeks, months… maybe even years”.

Lilja didn’t have to look at the boy’s father to know his facial expression. Anger. Irritation. Rage. Even though the young boy couldn’t hear the words of the two men in the laboratory, he knew the face of his father, and he knew that that face meant trouble. Big trouble. The same face he got after he accidentally broke the machine Dr. Lilja had been working on for months. And how did he break Dr. Lilja’s machine, you may ask? He played with his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Leonardo action figure on the machine buttons, while his father and Dr. Lijla was talking in the observatory. After that, he was no longer allowed in the laboratory, but only in the observatory, where he could play with his action figures and read his comics… Yeah, not his proudest moment…

The boy’s father grabbed Dr. Lilja by the neck of his shirt and stared him straight into his scared eyes. The boy gasped, putting the comic up in front of his face, only letting his eyes peek over the edge, watching the interaction play out in front of him. Lilja feared those eyes more than anything. He remembered clearly what happened to Dr. Stockman, last time he caused so much anger.

“You fix that machine in the time I told you to!” He didn’t even have to come up with a threat. Lilja knew what the punishment for not listening to him was.

“Yes! Yes! Of course Agent Bishop!”

It was at moments like this, where it once again made sense to Dr. Lilja, why Agent Bishop had chosen that code name.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #bayverse leo #bayverse leonardo #tmnt bayverse leo #tmnt bayverse leo x reader #tmnt bayverse leonardo #tmnt bayverse leonardo x reader #tmnt x reader

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verbenaa · 22 hours

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to eden | chapter 8

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: “You spoil me darling, really. But I am simple man—” Rin stops him off with a look of admonishment, cutting off his sentence to start her own.

“A simple show for a simple man, then.”She hopes her emphasis on the words will speak loudly enough for him to understand the meaning of them as she mockingly bows towards him.

“I take offense to that assessment, you know.” Astarion huffs with a frown, casting his head aside to instead take a sip of his errant goblet of wine, already forgotten beside him.

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/F!Tav

𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E, 18+

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 14.8k 😮‍💨

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: mentions of torture/abuse, mild descriptions of blood/gore, striptease (?), fingering, cunnilingus, vampire bites (duh), handjobs, piv sex, multiple orgasms, Soft Dom Astarion returns 😌

𝒶/𝓃: hellooooo, sorry it's taken so long for me to get this written and posted! but it's here now and I very much hope you enjoy! let me know your thoughts about the chapter, too!

ao3

masterlist

MDNI, 18+ CONTENT

The air is quiet, the ever-present darkness lingering around them like a stagnant weight. Rin finds that she quite hates it, no matter how lovely the promise the warmth of Last Light Inn and its alcohol is to be.

Her fingers are poised on one of the delicate strings of her lyre as she strums it lightly, a low hum reverberating out from the instrument that fills the air with what she hopes will be something that sounds effortless, beautiful, ethereal.

She frowns at the sound of it from where she leans against a conveniently placed rock near the fire, the note falling flat as it dies in the silence of the dark night.

“You’re off.” A familiar voice echoes out from above, the sound of it supercilious and downright annoying, as she huffs out a breath in minute agitation.

With a turn of her head, Rin sends Astarion a withering look from where he lounges, imperious, on the rock right above her; a book held in his hand as he reads by the light of the roaring fire.

“And so is your stitching, but you don’t hear me calling you out on it, now do you?”

His stitching wasn’t, of course. It was always practiced, perfect, and near precise—Astarion as good with a needle as he was with a knife or an arrow.

But, as always, he didn’t have to know that. He has enough of an ego as it is and Rin has no intentions of adding to it unnecessarily.

Astarion flips the page with unnecessary force, his obvious agitation dragging a secret smile to her lips that she hides into the strings of her lyre.

He really made it far too easy to tease him, sometimes.

Astarion hmphs into the nighttime air, looking astutely back down at the book in his lap in an attempt to ignore her as she bites back a laugh that threatens to break free.

Rin turns her attention back to the instrument in her hands, fingers running down the carved edge of it as her mind wanders aimlessly in the silence and she stares out at the utterly boring landscape.

It was pretty, she supposes, if one cared for a setting devoid of most kinds of life. Ultimately, there was just not terribly much for her to look at, leaving her with nothing but the amusement of her own thoughts, much to her frustration.

There wasn’t much left for her to do but think, it seemed.

Rin had already eaten dinner while conversing with Gale; engaged in some gossip over a glass of wine with Shadowheart; discussed the merits of carnivorous fauna with Halsin; indulged Lae’zel in a practice sparring session (which she lost quite terribly, much to Astarion’s joy and Lae’zel’s disappointment at Rin’s apparent lack of skill); shared a nice pint from the inn with Karlach; and then watched on as Astarion drained poor Wyll dry of some gold in a game of cards (she’ll have to try to figure out how to get him his money back, one way or another).

She would probably have to beg Astarion to do it—something she was not eager to do, but would for the sake of Wyll and all his noble, princely goodness.

Perhaps she should try to steal it off of him, instead. It certainly would make for a good challenge, at the very least, provided she didn’t get caught doing it. Rin has no doubt the cost for that particular crime would be steep, one that she doesn’t know if she can afford to pay for.

Astarion already spent enough time in her thoughts as it was, the price nothing more than that of her precious yet dwindling sanity. She already feels as though she is slowly losing her mind every time she replays the events of the other night over in her head, no longer than a mere week ago.

She and Astarion had both quite politely ignored the events of that night, the memory of the closeness of their lips and the things she had said settling into the recesses of her mind as if they were nothing more than a dream, one that haunts her when she lays down her head onto her sad excuse for a pillow.

It was a lapse in judgment, at the very least. The klauthgrass had clearly addled her mind more than she thought when she looks back on it. It’s the only logical reason she would ever had said the things she did—whether spoken from her lips or written down in a letter never to be sent.

She also still needed to burn the damn letter, but that was neither here nor there.

What mattered was that they had settled back into their usual camaraderie, trading cutting words and sly smiles back and forth with one another as they had always done despite a brand new, gently simmering tension that now lay just underneath the surface.

But it was fine.

Rin was nothing if not an expert at ignoring the things that were bothering her, was she not? Their little…situation was simply that.

A situation.

One that was easily forgettable once she set her mind to actually forgetting about it.

Rin trades that particular line of thinking out with a deep exhale, shoving it back into a conveniently placed box in a corner of her mind and instead sets to retuning the instrument in her hands, worn pine both familiar and comforting as its weight rests against her.

Her wonderful, familiar lyre that had been with her for years now, through both thick and thin. It hadn’t helped her make terribly much gold, but it had been a better friend to her than any person had over the years.

She turns the pegs on the back of it little by little, tiny twists of her fingers adjusting the strings in a way she hopes will make her next attempt at song better and not worse.

The night flows by as she sits in the warmth of the fire, the soft crackles of the logs soothing as Rin retunes the instrument until she’s finally happy with what she hopes will be a drastic improvement to the earlier noise it had made.

With a satisfied sigh, Rin moves to strum at her lyre, fingers just about to touch the strings when a biting voice interrupts her.

“I do hope you didn’t make it worse. My poor ears can’t take much more abuse.”

Rin ignores the jab with a serene blink before deigning not to answer as her raised hand closes into a fist, nails biting into her palm as she prays to anyone listening for an ounce of patience.

In lieu of violence—despite him deserving it—she sees a perfect opportunity to turn the conversation from another of her apparent failures onto one of his instead.

She turns to look at him with a sly look, fixing him with clever eyes alight with mischief.

“You know, Astarion, I happened to read something quite interesting in one of the books I found at The Waning Moon.”

Astarion turns another page in his book as he feigns disinterest, but his eyes don’t scan the rows of elvish decorating the page in neatly printed rows. “Oh? Do tell, then. Was it something violent? Gory? Scandalous?”

“Scandalous, certainly. I seem to have come across a small little volume that contained a list,” Rin’s brows waggle conspiratorially. “A list of banned patrons.”

Astarion’s interest is firmly piqued as soon as she says the words, finally looking up from the tome in his lap to focus on her, indifference giving way to a fiendish gleam in his eye.

“You should have said so from the start. Tell me more, darling, what are the offenses? Give me all the sordid details.”

He leans in closer from his seat above her, Astarion and his flair for the dramatic never failing to amuse her and she can’t help the equally wicked smile that spreads across her lips in response.

“Most of them were ordinary—you know, the standard. Bar fights, skipping the bill, unnecessary wanton activity with a pickle. But there was one that really stuck out to me, quite a striking description frankly. I think it said something along the lines of ‘a pale elf with a snide mouth’ that apparently insulted someone of particular importance. Sound familiar?”

“Well, whoever they are sounds like they had a fantastic time to me.” His smile is devious as he smirks. “In fact, I’d say that whoever it was deserved such words.”

“Oh, I have no doubt. I’m sure the insults thrown were of the highest calibre, as well.”

Astarion grin is a roguish one that looks terribly handsome on his features but something heavy intercedes over the amusement in his eyes as the deeper meaning behind that seemingly small and unimportant notation sinks in.

The smirk falls slowly from Astarion’s lips, a slight darkness settling across the features of his face as the corners of his mouth turn down ever so slightly.

Ah. Of course.

“You have no memory of ever coming here, do you?” She softens her voice, only slightly, but she has no doubt Astarion notices the change regardless.

“No. I’ve already told you I don’t have many memories from my life before Cazador,” He snaps. “But clearly I’ve here before. Obviously.”

Rin had given some thought to the presumed Astarion of before in the rare moments of peace that were few and far in between, when her mind was free to wander before sleep overtook her.

The Astarion that existed before the tadpole, before Cazador. Back when his heart still beat and his skin was flushed with life. Astarion, with not-red eyes, wearing finely tailored silks and wools, drinking the richest of wines; for he was sure to have been wealthy.

She had spent many years watching the upper echelons of Baldur’s Gate from her place on the streets, staring up into their windows at twilight to watch them swoon and twirl in their finery, and Astarion moved like the best of them—graceful and elegant, proud and arrogant.

He had been a magistrate, or so he had said.

She could only trust so many of the words that come from his lips, but somehow the image of Astarion in ostentatious robes handing down whatever judgement he deemed worthy is far too easy for her to envision for her to entirely disbelieve the notion.

But he must have had a family, surely.

Parents, siblings, friends—perhaps even a lover or two. Or three, knowing him.

Gods forbid he had sired any children.

But the implication remains all the same. So many questions, almost all of which he may never know the answers to.

“You should be proud, Astarion.” Rin attempts a tiny bit of levity, though it doesn’t seem to help. “An annoyance both alive and undead. Not many could ever hope to achieve such a thing.”

“Well,” he sniffs with an air of put-on pride, smile weak. “It’s nice to know I’m consistent, at least.”

“You did get thrown out of a tavern last time you were here. Perhaps this trip to sweet, little Reithwin is faring much better than the one prior. Your last visit didn’t have me present, after all.”

“My last visit was probably still more peaceful, I’d wager. I doubt I was busy being vexed by a senseless blonde bard all the while having a worm buried in my head.” His voice raises a few octaves as he narrows his eyes at her.

She would rather have his ire than his sorrow, it’s a much better sight than the mournful look beginning to creep over his features.

“Presumably weren’t being vexed by a senseless blonde bard.” Rin shoots Astarion a small smile. “Maybe you have a type.”

He only gives a mirthless laugh in response.

“I am sorry, Astarion. I wish you were able to remember more.”

Astarion sighs, uncharacteristically defeated and the sound of it has her chest tightening.

“Yet another thing I can add to the unending list of things that Cazador took from me. From us.”

“Us?” Rin muses over the word, the answer to a question she had long considered but never managed to ask, not amongst the seemingly never-ending amount of things that popped up on their list to be taken care of. “So, you aren’t the only one, then? Of Cazador’s spawn, I mean.”

She briefly worries she’s overstepped an invisible boundary, that Astarion will shut her down and storm away without another word, leaving her with no answer to the question.

Her curiosity about him grows with every passing day and she simply wants to know more about him.

Not the charming, surface level vanity he would normally put forward for her, but the real Astarion.

The one who tells her and only her small stories about himself and his life, the one who responds to her silly little letters, the one who had thanked her, with actual gratitude, drawing of his scars in hand.

The Astarion who—for some unfathomable reason—no matter how much he may complain or insult her, still chooses her above all others to spend his time with.

Rin turns to look up at him, the straightening of his spine obvious even in the darkness of the camp. Astarion, for his part, takes her question in stride, though there’s a telltale tightness around his mouth that signals his ever-present bitterness at Cazador’s mention.

He nods, the motion stiff as Rin’s brows draw together into a frown.

“There were seven of us, in all. Brothers and sisters, as he liked to call us. Quite the family.” Astarion lets out a derisive laugh, words acrimonious as he spits them out.

Ruby red eyes look ahead, his gaze catching on nothing in particular as he stares at the barren world on the other side of the water, the landscape as bleak as his expression.

“But I was one of his first. He was a monster to us all. Tortured us. Carved the same thing into my back as he did into all of theirs. But Cazador took a special pleasure in my pain. In my screams. He said my screams sounded sweetest.”

And oh, how her heart twists to hear the fragile timbre of his voice as his breath hitches, an undercurrent of agony flowing so readily and truthful from him.

Rin averts her eyes as his voice breaks on the last few words, settling her vision on one of the red ferns flowing in the ever-present breeze in an attempt to let him keep some of his suffering to himself, to leave some of his dignity in tact.

It’s the least she can do.

“And now that I’m gone…I don’t know. I pity the other six.” Astarion takes a deep, bracing breath, his sorrow palpable, and Rin’s chest aches again.

She doesn’t have anything to say, and how could she?

Oh, terribly sorry you spent two centuries being tortured unendingly. That must have been awful. You didn’t deserve it, Astarion.

No, any words of consolation she has only seem to fall flat in the face of his misery. He doesn’t need her to tell him about how horrible it is, how neither he nor his siblings deserved the pain, the anguish, the endless torture that Cazador dished out on a whim to bend and break them all to his will.

The only thing Rin can think to give him is her own paltry attempt at comfort as she leans in towards him slowly until her head rests just against the side of his leg in silent consolation.

He doesn’t like to be touched at the best of times, but somehow she knows he would hate the inevitable pity he would choose to find in her words much worse.

Astarion freezes, muscles tensing as if in wait for something, sending a sharp look down at the messily braided head now resting against his knee. But when nothing other than the presence of her subtle weight leaning against him ever comes, the only movement she makes the easy in and out of her breathing, he relaxes slightly.

Rin doesn’t dare to look up at him, instead returning her attention back to the lyre still in her arms. With a careful hand, her fingers come up to strum at a string, followed by another and another and another; music flowing out from the instrument in a slow, soft melody.

It’s nothing in particular that the plays; no well-known song or tune, only a series of notes and chords she pieces together with minimal thought that somehow manages to sound more lovely than anything she’s had luck playing the past week.

Eventually, she hears the soft rustle of a page being flipped once more as Astarion returns to his book, no words spoken to break the silence between them as Rin keeps her head resting just against him, playing her song just for him.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

She should know better, by now, than to ever be surprised by the horrors they come across—and yet, as she had walked into the operating theatre of the so-called House of Healing, her footsteps quiet over the dark, ornate, and rotting woodwork, she still managed to be shocked by what she beheld as she had peeked over the railing.

She had noticed the man first. It was impossible to not have when his blood, a bright red incarnadine, was splattered across the walls and dripping onto the floors in sickly streams. She followed the trail of it to the source, taking in the carnage of his body; eyes no more than bloodied pits and mouth opened in silent scream as he writhes on the table, somehow still alive despite the butchering of his body.

A moment later, her eyes drifted over to Doctor Malus Thorm in all his horror; elbow deep in his victim’s innards with hands that were no longer quite hands, digits turned instead into some sort of mechanical claws as he lectures aloud to the sightless nurses who stood uselessly around the body.

She had stepped into that theatre expecting a battle, her own blood to be added to all that had already been spilled and soaked into the grooves in the wood over the many years.

Instead, she managed something quite different. Something possibly worse.

She hadn’t assumed that she would be able to kill him with only her words, not when the menace of him spelled violence and promised pain, a Shar devotee to the bitter end.

And yet, it was with words that she had convinced him to sacrifice himself to his nurses, a dark turn of events that somehow seemed to fit the narrative of this terrible place all too well.

She blames the power she feels when his body finally gives its last, miserable breath on the shadow curse, on the innate darkness of this place, on the tadpole.

Any excuse works, so long as it covers up the fact that she had liked it.

It was the very same power she had felt when the other two Thorms fell; silvered words falling off her tongue to bend them to her will and end them both without her having to lift a single, gloved finger.

It had only been a small inconvenience to finish off the remaining Sisters of Mercy after they had done Rin’s dirty work for her, their trepans and bonesaws no match for her rapier, Karlach’s axe, Shadowheart’s spells, and Astarion’s blood thirst.

Her heart still beats too quick, the sound of it loud in her ears as she stands stock still on a bated breath—in fear, in anxiety, in a strange and twisted excitement.

It’s both thrilling and terrifying in equal measure.

Rin wants nothing to do with it.

“Remind me not to get on your bad side.” Shadowheart remarks quietly with a laugh from beside her, breaking the silence of the aftermath. There’s a new awe present in the cleric’s voice that Rin hates the sound of.

Rin looks at her friend with a small smile. “So long as you don’t get in the way of me and a good time, we’ll be dandy.”

“I wouldn’t dare after that performance.” Shadowheart laughs, a twinkling little sound, and it breaks up a bit of the nerves that had settled in her chest.

“Well. That was positively sickening. Who knew there would be so much fun to be found here?” Astarion sheathes his dagger with a twist of his wrist, the added flourish elegant as blood flicks off the blade and splatters onto the ground. “Though I do wish for a more satisfying kill. I’m in desperate need of a snack.”

Karlach claps a hand on Astarion’s shoulder with enough force that he only just manages to keep his footing. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can find something else alive for you to sink your fangs into.”

“Does all that blood not quite do it for you, Astarion?” Shadowheart gestures with a raised brow to the drops of blood still dripping off of the surgical table, a nauseating mixture of both the man's and Thorm’s blending together.

“Hardly.” Astarion crinkles his nose at the thick, dark ichor. “I’ve had worse, but it smells terrible and I can’t imagine it tastes much better.”

Rin glances up at Astarion beside her, taking in his somehow paler than normal complexion and a thought hits her, her brow furrowing in consideration.

When was the last time he had fed?

And what on?

He had been subsisting on a diet of—well, mostly her, honestly; along with the occasional forest creature.

Astarion certainly hadn’t tasted her since their last night on the Mountain Pass, longer than he’s ever gone without her blood since his first feed from her all those moons ago.

Rin had become so used to his little visits, popping into her tent during the evening to have his fill of her—blood and more. The absence of them since has felt surprisingly stark, a loss she didn’t realize she would mourn in the wake of the palpable tension that had settled between them no matter how hard they each attempted to ignore it.

For just as surely as he hadn’t drank from her neck, he had not come to taste the rest of her either; their nights spent instead trading remarks back and forth by the fire.

Not that she was complaining.

Quite the contrary.

She had found herself growing quite fond of this new aspect of their relationship that they had eased into; trading stories and anecdotes with each other over a bottle of wine or a game of cards, he reading his books while she plays her music, Astarion working on his stitching as she looks on and inevitably bothers him with her presence.

It was…nice. Normal, almost.

Or whatever their version of nice and normal was.

Rin snaps herself out of her thoughts with a blink and turns to her companions with a nod, hoping the daze she was in doesn’t show on her face. “Right then. Let’s loot, shall we?”

They meander their way about the rest of the room, navigating their way around the bodies and books scattered about the floor, some of the thin pages now soaked with the blood of the fallen. They don’t find terribly much, some gold here or an interesting text there.

But mostly, it’s all useless.

Rin thinks that at one time, the quatrefoil tiles lining the floors of this place must have been beautiful—crisp, clean white contrasting against vibrant blue.

Now, though, they are covered in long streaks of dark, sticky blood, the ichor long staining tile and grout alike; the corners of them chipping as they step over them on their way out of the long hallway at the entry of the building.

Rin falls back beside Astarion as they make their way onto the uneven cobblestones of Reithwin, gnarled roots threatening to trip her as they grow up in between the grooves. With a small smile and nod, she gestures for Shadowheart to take the lead, the cleric walking ahead as her long braid bounces behind her.

She falls into step with him easily, matching his pace as she keeps her eyes ahead, always on the lookout for what the next danger to jump out at them will be.

“Have you been hunting recently?” It’s a casual question, no accusation in her tone as she stretches her arms behind her back.

Astarion casts a surreptitious glance her way, eyes wandering across her profile as she stays looking ahead. “There’s precious little living here, my dear.”

“Then why haven’t you come to me? You’ve never cared about bothering me before when you would pop into my tent unannounced.”

“I-” Astarion looks away from her for a moment before returning his gaze to her. “I assumed you needed a break to…replenish your sources."

His non-answer has one of Rin’s brows drawing up in skepticism, which he readily ignores. However, the thought of him perhaps not coming to her for her own health is almost sweet, if believable.

If.

She’s not so sure that it’s the truth, but she will take it at face value, for now.

“Astarion,” she leans towards him to give him a slight nudge with her elbow, the touch light. “I think my ‘sources’ have been thoroughly replenished. You can feed on me tonight, if you’d like.”

It would be careless of her, as a leader, to let him continue to starve himself. She’s only doing the most responsible thing by offering herself up to him again. It’s for the better of their entire party and Faerûn at large, wasn’t it? The Absolute wasn’t going to just disappear into thin air, after all.

And if it happened to mean she got to spend a little extra time with him—well, that would be nothing more than luck on her part.

“Well, if you’re offering, sweet thing,” His lips curl up in a smirk, eyes alight with a predator’s gleam at the promise of her blood. “Come find me in my tent tonight, darling, and we shall feast.”

“Feast? Shall there be something there for me then, as well?” Rin releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and glances up at him with a small, secret smile that has a corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk.

“Only the best for my favorite little treat.”

“Careful, you’ll spoil me.” If only, she thinks, and the thought is terribly traitorous as she bites down on a corner of her lip in hopes of stopping the pink that threatens to rise to her cheeks.

But from the answering smirk on Astarion’s face as they venture further into the into the crushing darkness of Reithwin’s destroyed streets she thinks he must able to glean the thought on his own.

“We can’t have that, now can we?”

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

Rin steels herself outside the flap of Astarion’s tent, readying herself for whatever waits for her inside. She isn’t sure why she’s so nervous. It wasn’t like he hadn’t fed from her before.

Or slept with her, for that matter.

There’s no flickering flame to be seen from the outside of his tent, nothing to give her any sort of hint of what possibly awaits her inside aside from him, his silhouette undecipherable in the darkness.

With a deep breath, she pulls the flap to the side and steps forward, a familiar scent—rich brandy curling together with earthy rosemary and fresh bergamot—swirling in the air as her eyes land on the vampire in question.

“Well,” Astarion lounges casually against his bedroll as his eyes find her own, leaning back on his elbows with enviable ease as a silver goblet rests beside him. “Hello there, darling.”

Her eyes are drawn to the exposed skin of his chest, the sight of him waiting for her shirtless so reminiscent to that first night together that she pulls up short.

It felt like eons ago, now; her traipsing through the forest outside of the Emerald Grove to find him waiting in a picturesque clearing for her and her alone. While there was no soft grass with charming little flowers to decorate the ground and no glittering moonlight to beam down upon them and highlight their skin as they moved together—she feels just as out of her depth now as she did then, when she had discovered him with his shirt already off and honeyed words just waiting to fall from his lips.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long again.” Rin snatches her eyes up from his chest to meet his own, a smirk already decorating his lips at her momentary distraction.

“Oh, I’ll always wait for you, beautiful.” Her eyes roll despite herself as she lets out a huff at such trite words.

“Did you need a nibble or should I see myself out?” She points behind herself to the exit of his tent for emphasis, brow arched.

“Let’s not be hasty, shall we?” Astarion answers a touch too quickly as he sits up a little higher, body tensing as if ready to jump up in the event she were to actually leave. “I would so hate to see you go.”

He must be hungry, then, if he’s so desperate for her presence.

Rin smiles at him as she looks around the tent expectantly, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she spies not a single treat aside from an empty goblet she presumes to be for her. “You know, I recall you promising me a feast.”

Astarion has the audacity to not look even the tiniest bit sheepish as her eyes narrow and her bottom lip juts out into a pout, a noise of frustration escaping from her lips. She should have known better than to trust a vampire when it came to procuring treats.

“I’m short on baked goods, pet, but I can promise you something else delicious instead.” His intent is obvious as he sends her a decidedly suggestive look. “Won’t you give me a show first, though?”

“I didn’t realize you were in need of entertainment, Astarion. I could always bring Volo in to recite some poetry while you dine, if you’d like.”

“A charming idea, to be sure.” Astarion rolls his eyes. “But I was thinking of something a little more…intimate.”

Astarion eyes her form tip to toe as she stands in front of him, but it lacks the casual closeness she’s come to expect from him, something in the forced insincerity of the gesture grating.

“Make yourself comfortable. Stay awhile,” He gestures passively with a wave of his hand through the air towards where she stands as he continues. “Get yourself out of those wretched clothes, for example. You look much prettier without them on, anyways.”

Irritation sparks along the line of her mouth, emerald eyes sharpening as she stares at him. Weeks ago, the words would have had her blushing and the beginnings of desire kindling in her belly; but now they fall lifeless upon her ears, none of the ease and familiarity she has come to enjoy during their little interludes present in them.

The words are merely mechanic—as calculated and practiced as they were on that very first night.

Worse, it doesn’t even seem like he enjoys saying the words, the sound of them hollow as they leave his mouth and the smirk pasted on his lips halfhearted.

It feels utterly obvious once she realizes what he’s trying to do and she can see through his ill-prepared idea with ease, this little power play of his nothing more than a paltry attempt to control their situation, some sort of damage control after the other night.

They’ve both given too much of themselves now to return to the shallow, impersonal relationship they once had whether he likes it or not, and Rin will be damned if she lets him call the shots and force them back to the beginning.

But, if Astarion wants to play a game—well, she’s never been one to turn down an opportunity to win.

Rin looks down at her clothes with a pointed look and while they were perhaps nothing fancy—the oversized linen and worn leather may be simple but they were far from wretched.

“Well. I’d hate to offend your delicate sensibilities.” Her smile is an inch too wide to be believable, betraying her irritation. “Shall I do a twirl for you as well? Or perhaps you would like a little trick?”

Rin holds up her hand, ready to ignis the damned tent if necessary to illustrate her point. Nothing that a few gold and a trip to dear Withers couldn’t fix if she accidentally managed to char him in the process.

“You spoil me darling, really. But I am simple man—” Rin stops him off with a look of admonishment, cutting off his sentence to start her own.

“A simple show for a simple man, then.” She hopes her emphasis on the words will speak loudly enough for him to understand the meaning of them as she mockingly bows towards him.

“I take offense to that assessment, you know.” Astarion huffs with a frown, casting his head aside to instead take a sip of his errant goblet of wine, already forgotten beside him.

His eyes are drawn quickly back to the center of his tent when he hears the soft rustle of fabric, returning to Rin just in time to catch a glimpse of her hands running down the front of her blouse. “It’s a perfectly reasonable one, if you ask me.”

Astarion frowns, opening his mouth to protest before quickly shutting it as her hands reach the waistband of her pants, fingers dipping just beneath the worn leather. Rin raises her brow, a teasing smile forming on her lips now that she has his attention.

Any irritation she feels is tempered by the thrill of Astarion’s gaze so set on her, his complete focus hers and hers alone as honest interest finally sparks to life in those red eyes of his.

With little flourish she begins to pull her leggings down her legs, peeling the pants away from her skin with less grace than she would prefer, but it would have to do. She kicks them to the side once she frees herself from them, uncaring where they land as she adjusts to the cool air of the night against newly bared skin that Astarion’s eyes rove.

“Do you think I should take this off next?” She thumbs at the hem of her shirt, examining the fraying stitching at the hem in desperate need of a mend. She’d have to ask Astarion to do it for her, damn it. “Since you find it so offensive and all that.”

“Be my guest, darling.” He gestures with a hand towards the garment, a corner of his mouth lifting. “I’ll even do you a favor and burn it for you for later.”

“How kind of you to go through all the trouble.”

Rin’s smile is wry as she grabs the hem of her plain tunic and deftly lifts it over her head before dropping it.

It drifts to the ground, fluttering down softly to fall in a graceless heap beside her bare legs, Astarion’s eyes darkening ever so slightly at the sight of her in nothing more than an unadorned corset and plain underwear, upping her confidence tenfold as she lets a corner of her mouth lift.

“I suppose you’ll want to burn this too?” She runs her fingers teasingly across the top edge of the corset, her touch light as she brushes against the cotton and the plush of her breasts where they spill out above the garment.

She hadn’t worn it with the intent of being admired, but when Astarion’s eyes follow every brush of her fingers against her breasts she’s suddenly quite grateful that she had chosen to wear it tonight instead of opting to go without as she normally would have, if only for it to act as a different kind of armor—one last layer to bolster her defenses in a battle she will surely lose.

Astarion swallows, legs shifting slightly as his eyes caress over her curves. “We can negotiate the corset.”

“Your kindness truly knows no bounds.” Her fingers hover over the looped bow that sits at her breasts, tied in a hurry earlier after she had changed out of her armor.

The corset itself was nothing more than a plain ivory cotton—no expensive satin or fine boning—but when she pulls at the laces keeping the pretty little bow tied at the center of her cleavage, the tiniest bit of her full breasts exposed with the motion, the look in Astarion’s eyes could fool her into thinking it was the finest thing he had ever seen.

Little by little, she pulls every cross of the laces, freeing more and more of herself with every delicate yank of her fingers as Astarion’s eyes obediently follow every inch of skin exposed until she reaches the last one, tugging it gently to loosen the final cross.

It hangs loose around her form, the curve of her breasts just visible with the line of skin exposed down her chest. Rin wills her hands to steady under Astarion’s study as she brings them up to the straps on her shoulders, pushing each one off so she can shrug out of the garment.

With one last push, the corset falls to the ground at her feet and she steps out of the circle of it before sending it aside with a soft kick.

Rin’s breasts pebble in the cool air, heat beginning to curl deep in her stomach under Astarion’s watchful gaze. She keeps her limbs loose, relaxed; her face at ease as she meets his eyes.

“You aren’t quite finished yet, my sweet.” Astarion’s voice is tight as he gestures with a brief nod towards her nearly naked form, gaze moving from her bare breasts and down lower to linger on her still-clothed center.

“You know, I think I’ve grown tired of being your entertainment,” She cocks her head to the side, unbound waves of darkened wheat—the color barely discernible in the darkness of his tent—cascading with the movement. “If you want them off so badly, do it yourself.”

He raises a brow in question but obliges her nonetheless, moving from where he had been so indolently reclined against his bedroll as he watches her with keen eyes.

With slow, careful steps Astarion makes his way towards where she stands before him and she is helpless but to admire the way his muscles shift on his lithe form, the grace with which he moves as he stalks closer to her that of a predator on the hunt for his prey.

And what was she, she supposes, if not his prey? It was why she had come here tonight, after all—to let him drink his fill of her blood with his lips at her neck, sucking down her life’s essence to his heart’s content.

She certainly feels like his prey, at least. How could she feel anything but when he moves around her in a slow circle, eyes brushing over her bared skin like a lover’s caress, knowing and intimate.

Astarion moves around her in another perfect circle before he finishes his perusal, stopping to stand behind her close enough to touch, his bare chest almost brushing against her spine. Familiar hands come to her waist as his head lowers to rest upon her shoulder, thumbs rubbing light circles into the skin.

His lips press a featherlight kiss to her jaw that has her catching a breath. “Who said you were in charge here, my dear?”

His touch is electric against her skin, and Rin resists the urge to lean back into him, to press against the coolness of his chest and relish the feeling of his skin on hers. His mouth is terribly distracting where he adorns her with little kisses across the curve of her jaw and down the line of her neck, and she briefly wonders if he means to bite her just like this, held tight in the circle of his arms.

“Whoever said that you were?” Rin counters back with a glance out of the corner of her eye to where his cheek rests against her shoulder, ignoring the wetness that has begun to pool between her thighs.

She has no intention of giving into his every want and demand, or at least not yet.

The hands bracketing her waist begin to move despite his protests, sliding down over her hips with frustrating slowness until he reaches the hem of her embarrassingly simple underwear.

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” Astarion sighs dramatically against the column of her throat. “Must you be so difficult?"

There’s an unexpected fondness in his voice, an affection that she can’t remember if she’s ever heard so openly from him before that has the air around them changing; shifting from something practiced and performative to familiar and lovely and absolutely perfect.

The sound of it has a shred of something warm blossoming in Rin’s chest—unknown but not entirely unwelcome, she decides.

He plays at the edge of her panties, fingers toying with the thin cotton where it rests against her skin on either hip, his touch sending another wave of heat straight to her core as she bites back a sigh at the sensation.

“You should be aware by now that listening has never been one of my strong suits.”

“Yes, well,” Astarion’s fingers hook into both sides of her underwear before beginning to pull, the garment sliding down over her hips and bottom as Astarion sinks down with it. “You seem to remember how to follow my instructions when it counts, dearest.”

He drops silently to his knees behind Rin, dragging her underwear down her legs as he goes, each slide of the fabric against her skin only serving to heighten the heat kindling inside her. She gingerly steps out of each leg, desperately wishing she could see what he must look like lowered behind her in such a manner—the sight of him on his knees surely one that she has seen in her dreams of him.

But before she can make up her mind to steal a glance or even just turn, Astarion is gliding back up her body, hands glancing against her skin as he goes, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

“You know, I thought I came here for you to feed on.” It’s an effort to keep her voice steady as his arms wrap back around her waist, touch cool against her skin.

His head lowers back to her ear, lips brushing against the shell as a shiver of anticipation runs down her spine. “Oh, you did. But I don’t see why we can’t have a little fun as well. It’s been awhile, darling, and I’ve missed you.”

A hand traces down her stomach in a teasing touch; long, sweeping lines of his fingertips back and forth across her skin brushing down until he reaches the apex of her thighs.

Astarion moves at a glacial pace as his fingers dip lower and lower until they find their way to her center, swiping through her folds to spread her essence on the tips of them as Rin’s head falls back onto his shoulder, a sigh escaping her lips as he explores.

“Miss my blood or miss me?” Rin’s lashes flutter shut as he runs his fingers up and down her, careful to avoid the two places she wants him to touch most as she flushes at the evidence of her arousal he finds.

“Can’t it be both?” His fingers finally find her entrance, tracing around the edge in slow circles as she sharply inhales.

She’s not ready to admit how much she wants to believe him that he had missed her, had missed this—the easy intimacy they had been building together bit by bit. It’s a dizzying thought, one that has her heart skipping a beat that he surely can hear this close.

“With you? Unlikely.”

“Why, you think so little of me, darling.” Astarion punctuates his words with the press of a finger slowly in; and were it any other time, the mock outrage coloring his voice would draw a laugh from her.

This time, however, he draws a moan from her instead as he pushes deeper, seating his finger inside her before slowly withdrawing.

“Give me more to think about, then.” Rin sighs, lips opened as she tries to still her hips.

“Only if you ask nicely.” He smiles into her skin, lips brushing against the column of her throat as he pushes back in, sliding home to the knuckle.

Her mind ceases to a halt on whatever clever words she had been preparing when a hand draws up to her breast and cups it, Astarion’s touch a balm against her over-warm skin as he runs his thumb over the hardened peak.

Astarion’s finger moves only barely inside her, but it’s enough for Rin to feel it, friction building in her core with the simple motion. She should be embarrassed by how quickly he has worked her up, her ire so easily forgotten when wrapped in his arms and at the mercy of his skilled hands.

He’s lucky that she likes him, for she would never allow anyone else such lenience. Though, she would never allow anyone else the opportunity to get quite so close to her, either—a thought that borders on terrifying if she thinks too long about it.

A second finger joins the first, and she welcomes the slight stretch as he finally begins to pump them while he mouths at her neck, moving in a steady rhythm that has a fire burning deep in her core as she moans in relief.

Astarion’s pace is easy and unconcerned as he thrusts in and out lazily, slowly building her up higher and higher with every press forward. Her curls pillow against his pale skin as she sighs at the pleasure coursing through her, that welcome heat billowing deep inside her. His thumb finds her clit and rolls against it in soft circles as her lips open in a low moan, limbs tightening at the added touch.

The hand cupping her breast runs back down to her waist to wrap around the circle of it, fingertips stroking her skin as he secures her closer to him and the outline of his cock presses hard against her ass.

Rin can feel the grin he hides in her neck as he breathes in the scent of her and his fingers curl, searching for the place to make her fall apart under his hands. He moves them just right, finding that one spot, and she cries out as her hips buck into his palm.

“Ah, Astarion!”

“Yes, darling?” He curls his fingers again and she practically melts in his hold, the arm he has wrapped around her waist squeezing tighter to keep her upright. “Did you have something you wanted to say?”

He could finish her off so easily, the bastard; only a few more presses of his fingers and she would be done for, but Rin doubts that Astarion has plans to let her off so easily.

Astarion has never outright denied her the release she craves, but he certainly likes to make her work for it.

“Only that I don’t want you to stop.” The words come out sounding more wanting than she would prefer, but she’s beyond the point of summoning up a care.

Astarion tsks, and as if on cue his fingers slow to a stop before pulling them from her body. Rin whines in protest as she lifts her head to glare at him, narrowed eyes meeting amused ones as he simply smirks back at her.

“Sorry, dear, I didn’t catch that.”

Astarion spins her around in his hold, her breasts pressing against his own bare chest as his hands run up and down her waist. A quick glance down and she can see the evidence of his own arousal, his cock pushing urgently against her stomach, still hidden by pants that she needs to rid him of preferably sooner rather than later.

“Liar. You heard me just fine.” Rin’s arms wrap around his shoulders as she leans in closer to him.

“It’s neither here nor there.” Astarion begins to walk her back, the two of them stepping together as he leads her towards his bedroll. “There’s no need to rush. Now, lay down.”

Rin arches her brow at his bossiness, but doesn’t argue as she lowers herself to the ground and spreads herself out on his bedroll. She frowns when she sits, the surface not nearly as soft as it should be, an unfamiliar hardness beneath her.

“Astarion, what in the hells is it that I am sitting on?” She shifts to peek underneath the blankets, spying some sort of wooden thing underneath her.

“Are you really going to ruin the mood to ask me about something so stupid? You are truly impossible.” Astarion looks down on her with a pointed scowl as he moves to kneel down before her, his lithe muscles shifting as he crawls over to her in smooth movements.

“I’m not the one sleeping on a plank of wood every night. Have you no standards for good night’s trance? No wonder you’re so touchy all the time.”

He’s upon her in mere moments, an elegant hand finding the space just below her collar bone as he only answers her with a stern look. This thumb runs along the line of it, brushing against the skin as his eyes follow the motion.

Rin looks down at the hand poised on her chest, so pale against the sun-warmed gold of her own, and brings her own up to run fingertips down the back of his. She swears she can see him shiver at the touch, a barely noticeable intake of his breath as her hand rests on top of his.

Astarion’s eyes cut up to hers, and with a raise of his brow, he pushes her backwards.

Rin lets him do it, lowering herself back with the help of his little push until her head hits his pillow, a rush of his scent surrounding her as she lays. His hand still rests on the skin of her chest, the weight of it like a scorching brand as she stares up at Astarion as he cages himself above her.

She doesn’t know what he sees when he looks down upon her, hair most likely curling in an unruly halo around her head and cheeks undoubtedly colored an unbecoming shade of pink, but his eyes run over what feels like every inch of her face before his hand begins to move, tracing a featherlight line down her skin.

Her stomach jumps underneath the drag of his fingertips as his touch stops low, their eyes meeting together in a heated glance as Rin waits with bated breath.

Astarion’s head lowers towards her, and her heart beats a little faster at the thought of his lips meeting hers, the want she has been blatantly ignoring the past week begging to break free from its confines safe in the corner of her mind.

But instead, Astarion’s lips find her neck, placing a kiss on the two pinprick scars that decorate the column of it before running them across her skin—kissing over her collar, upon the peak of her breast, down her ribs one by one.

She gasps at the feeling as he drags his lips down her body, her skin flushed with desire.

He’s kissing the sensitive skin just below her stomach with teasing presses of his lips when she speaks, breathless and wanting. “Astarion, don’t you want to feed?”

Cool hands travel down the curve of her waist and over her hips before reaching her soft skin of her thighs, palms running over the tops of them as he settles himself in between her legs.

“Oh, I do.” Astarion makes to spread her thighs further, pushing them wide. “Don’t you worry, my dear, I’ll get my fill.”

Rin’s cheeks fill with heat as he moves his gaze to her bare center, running claret eyes over her as she sucks in a breath. With little ceremony, his head moves forward and his tongue glides along her center, lapping at her wetness.

Her hips buck up into Astarion’s face as she reaches down to grab at his soft, downy curls as he circles the pearl at the top of her sex, the tip of his tongue light as he traces shapes along it.

He laps at her clit as she tries to quiet her mouth, holding back her moans and cries as best she can as he works her up ever higher. With a last circle, Astarion’s tongue ventures further down, abandoning her clit to instead run through her folds, groaning at the taste of her before exploring the wetness that has collected at her entrance.

“Asta—” Rin gasps sharply as his tongue traces around the edge of her, so like he had with his finger earlier—ever teasing. He dips in her entrance, the tip of it whorling against her before pushing deeper.

Her hands scrabble for purchase in his hair as he licks inside her, eating her out in earnest as her thighs tremble around his head. She swears that she can feel him chuckle against her as he tastes, tongue curling inside her as she grasps his soft curls harder between her fingers.

He thrusts his tongue deep and she keens, back arching off the bedroll as her hips roll against his mouth, chasing the heat coiling deep inside her with every press of his tongue. It’s a different sensation than that of his fingers, but no less welcome or wonderful as the feeling in her belly tightens more and more.

She’s terribly close when his mouth leaves her, and she mourns the loss of his tongue for mere seconds before he fills her with fingers that press urgently, curling just right as his lips kiss their way to her thigh.

“Do it.” She spreads wider for him, and she can hear his satisfied hum against her skin before he opens his mouth and sinks his teeth in the tender flesh of her inner thigh.

The familiar ice of his bite hurts far too good, the frosty pain warring against the heat surging through her limbs as he drinks from her, blood running in scarlet rivulets down her thigh to stain the worn blanket beneath her.

Astarion’s messy as he drinks, her hips writhing in time with the fingers still artfully working inside her. Her back arches as she tries to quiet her cry, a fist curling into the threadbare blanket below her.

The metallic scent of iron tinges the air of the tent as he drinks and Rin can’t help the moan that falls from her open mouth at the feeling of his lips on her skin, sucking and licking and—gods, kissing.

“There, please.” His fingers hit perfectly, over and over again, and her thighs tremble. “Please don’t stop.”

Astarion sucks hard at the bite as she begs, fingers keeping pace with the movement of her hips as he drinks down another surge of her blood. With only a few more presses of his fingers, curving just right to hit exactly where she needs him, Rin comes.

A hand unclenches from the blanket to cover her mouth as she muffles her moan into her palm, back arching as precious heat courses through her limbs and her hips writhe.

Pleasure whites out her thoughts as Astarion fucks her through her orgasm with his fingers; lips and mouth still pullings sips of her blood from her thigh all the while.

She comes back to herself as his fingers slow and he peppers kisses to her leg, lapping up any stray drops as they fall from the wound. Astarion pulls his fingers from her gently, another hum of satisfaction breaking free as he brings them to his mouth and sucks, tongue licking her come clean from the digits.

She’s still floating in a euphoric haze when Astarion finally rises from between her thighs, appetite sated and pale skin flushed with the slightest hint of pink from the blood that once belonged to her now flowing through his veins.

His mouth is glistening with her—her blood, her arousal, her scent. She’s entranced by the sight of it as Astarion licks his rouged lips, tongue swiping at a small drop of blood at the corner of his mouth that threatens to roll down his chin.

“Did I taste as good as you had hoped?” Rin’s chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath in the aftermath, the words no more than a whisper.

A corner of Astarion’s mouth lifts upward as he runs his eyes over her; from his mark on her thigh, over her sex, and up her flushed form beneath him until he meets her eyes. “Better.”

Rin’s breath hitches as he kisses his way back up her body with warmed lips, leaving a trail of red upon her skin with every touch of his lips, small blooms of her crimson blood like stains of watercolor.

He kisses up the valley between her breasts before turning his head, lips running over the plump curve of one before capturing her nipple, sucking at it before flicking his tongue against the bud. Rin’s back arches at the unexpected touch, more heat already kindling as he gives it a hard suck.

Astarion pops off her breast to kiss towards its twin, her hands burying back in his hair as he sucks at her other nipple, laving it with his tongue as a whine breaks free from her lips before she urges him higher, fingertips running through his curls.

He obliges, placing one last kiss upon the tip of her breast before moving to bury his head in her neck, licking a line up the column of her throat, the very tip of his tongue tracing a thrumming vein.

Rin wraps her arms around his shoulders, hands running over the corded muscle as he slots himself between her legs, his still-clothed erection brushing against the too-sensitive skin of her thighs.

It simply wouldn’t do, she decides.

“Let me touch you. Please,” she runs her hands down his chest to dance over his skin until she reaches the waistband of his pants, his cock painfully hard as it strains against the fabric. “I want to touch you, Astarion.”

She’s taking a chance by asking, but it’s one she’s willing to try her luck for.

Despite how many times she’s enjoyed the feeling of him inside her or how well he’s come to learn her body, he’s never quite allowed her the same opportunity to touch or taste him.

She knows enough of his past—he’s told her plenty of the many different people he had taken for Cazador against his will and under duress, his body used without the ability and choice to say no.

“I want to make you feel good too, Astarion.” Rin peers up into his eyes, fingers no longer trailing along him as she pauses, waiting patiently for a real answer. “Do you trust me?”

His gaze is intense as it meets her own, the heated desire in his eyes tempering for a moment to give way to a tentative vulnerability that crosses over them as he considers her words.

“I-” Astarion speaks softer than she had expected as he breaks off, gaze intent on hers as the weight of the implication that he has a choice—one that is his and his only to make—bears down on him. “—I do.”

“Only if you want me to. You have to promise me that you want it.” She urges, hands flattening on his abdomen as excitement stirs in her chest.

“Fine. I promise that I want it.” Astarion snaps, but his words lack any real bite as a corner of his lips quirk up into a crooked smile. “Show me what you’ve got, then, if you’re so eager.”

Rin moves slow as her hand slides back down his pants and over the curve of his hardened length, caressing him over the fabric as she feels him, cupping his length softly before flitting back up to join the other still at the waist of his pants.

Astarion’s breath catches at her touch before on his own hands comes down to help as she pushes the barrier down, freeing his length from the confines of his clothes. In a smooth motion, his pants and underwear are down his legs and off, baring his erection.

Precome shines at the tip of his cock as she runs her fingers down him in a barely there caress from top to bottom, his length twitching with the motion as Astarion draws in a harsh breath.

Her eyes stay on his as she grazes the soft skin again, watching for any sign she should stop as she runs her fingers along a prominent vein that runs along the side of him.

He’s velvet soft under her palm as she wraps her fingers around his shaft, giving him an experimental pump of her hand, touch gentle as she revels in the feel of him.

“Is this alright?” Rin looks up at him from under lowered lashes.

Her hand glides up, brushing over the head of him as she collects the precome leaking from his slit, running her fingers over it before caressing down to the base once more.

“By all means, please continue.” Rin knows he means for the words to be casual and unaffected, but there’s already a telling breathiness to Astarion’s words that has her smirking.

The weight of him in her hand is nothing short of perfect as she gently wraps her fist around him, stroking him. Astarion moans and it’s the easily one of the most beautiful things Rin’s ever heard, the sound of it sending a spike of heat to her core.

She brings her other hand to her mouth, running her tongue over her palm before it joins the other around his cock and the added bit of glide has Astarion gasping as his hips jump.

His head falls heavy onto her shoulder as she works him, careful pumps of his length bringing him closer to the edge far faster than she ever thought possible with only her touch.

His cock weeps as Rin glides her fingers over the crown of him again, collecting more of the precome that glistens at the tip. Her hands move together, one carefully massaging the head of his cock while the other strokes at the base, the breathy moans leaving Astarion’s lips only serving to spur her on further as she works him closer to the edge.

“Does this feel good, Astarion?”

“Gods, yes.” He shudders in response, lips open against her skin as he presses a messy kiss into her shoulder.

Her palms move faster, intent on his undoing, his pleasure at her hands nothing short of exhilarating.

Gods, she would let him come wherever he wanted. Onto her stomach, across her breasts, down her throat—the thought is enough to send another spark of electricity to her empty core.

“Ah, darling,” Astarion’s voice is tight as he buries his face deeper into her neck, hips bucking into her hand as she works him from the crown of his cock to the base, his breathing getting harder with every stroke. “Much more and you’ll spoil the main event.”

“I’ll stop, if that’s what you want.” Rin slows her motions as he catches his breath against the column of her throat, so close to his own completion she can practically feel it in the way his body shakes above her own, muscles quivering with the want of release. “But would it be so awful if you were to come like this? On my hands, all over my skin?”

Astarion raises his head from her neck, pupils blown wide and hair thoroughly disheveled as he pants. “Decidedly not, but I think I want to fill that sweet cunt of yours tonight instead.”

“If you say so.” She brings one of the hands that had been stroking him to her mouth, the tip of her tongue peeking out between her lips to lap at a shining string of precome still sticking to her skin, savoring the flavor of him for the very first time.

Astarion swallows hard, eyes fixated on the pink of her tongue as she wraps her mouth around the tip, sucking lightly. She smiles sweetly around it, lips pink and plush, as she sends him a wink.

With a soft pop, she pulls her finger out of her mouth before moving to twine her arms around his neck, running through the soft curls at his nape. “I wouldn’t mind getting to taste more of you, either, if you’d let me.”

“Salacious girl. Whatever am I supposed to do with you?” That same fondness from earlier sneaks back into his words as she gazes up at him with as much innocence as she can muster.

“Hmm,” Rin muses, pretending to think through her answer as her fingers toy with his hair. “Whatever you want, I suppose.”

“Whatever I want?” Astarion’s brows raise in mock surprise. “You might come to regret those words, darling.”

“I find that sometimes I don’t mind being at your mercy.”

“Your self-preservation instincts need some reevaluating, my dear.”

“Is that what you think?” She laughs as her fingertips abandon his wild curls to dance absentmindedly across the lines of his shoulders.

“What I think is that these wandering hands of yours are trouble.” Astarion leans down to whisper into her ear, a smirk decorating his lips as they brush against the point of them. “It’s a pity I don’t have any pretty ribbon at my disposal to tie them up with.”

Nimble fingers move to find and circle her wrists with surprising delicacy as he removes them from around his neck to instead guide her arms up to rest around her head.

Desire pools deep in her belly at the mere mention and she doesn’t even try to fight against Astarion’s hold, not when there’s nothing she wants more than to be at the mercy of his hands.

“So, you’ll just have to be a good girl and keep these up here for me.” His hands encircle her wrists so very easily as he applies the slightest bit of pressure on them to illustrate his point. “Can you do that? I know you have a very hard time following directions.”

“I’ll try my hardest, but I make no promises.”

His hands slide down from her own where he left them resting above her head as he rises back to his knees, running over her breasts to anchor at her waist before he takes in the sight of her—warm skin and eyes bright and utterly alive.

He fits perfectly between her thighs as he moves his hips to slide his length through her folds, her slick coating him with every pass.

“No touching,” Astarion tuts. “Don’t forget.”

“Like I said, no promises. But I’ll give it a fair shot.” Rin grinds her hips against his erection, still gliding up and down her slit.

Astarion’s only response is a raise of his brow as he positions himself at her entrance, the head of his cock barely pressing against her as he smirks, moving his hips away every time she tries to move hers forward.

Teasing. Always, always teasing.

Rin rolls her hips against his own as Astarion finally pushes forward, hilting himself inside her warmth in a smooth thrust, twin moans escaping from their lips at the feeling as he fills her completely.

His hands caress down to her thighs where they open for him, thumbs running up and down soft skin marred only by the red of his own bite, the marks smeared with still drying blood.

Astarion’s hips finally move, pulling away from hers only to push forward again until he bottoms out, burying himself deep. Rin relishes the feel of him moving inside her with a soft moan as she throws her head back against his pillow, back arching as he settles his hands on her hips to pull her deeper onto his cock.

His thumbs grip into her skin as he thrusts into her, hips meeting her own with long, deep strokes that have her trying and failing to hold back the little noises of pleasure that loose from her lips.

She yearns to move her hands from where they still rest above her head—yearns to drag her fingers across his skin or wrap her arms around his neck to draw him closer to her—but she resists the temptation, settling on moving her hips instead.

Rin grinds against his cock buried deep inside her as she moves her hips to match his own, thrust for thrust, the slide of him achingly flawless as they move together.

“Gods, you’re absolutely perfect.” The words slip out of Astarion’s lips, murmured low on a hard thrust. She tightens around him as the praise washes over her, lips opened on a barely restrained whimper as her lashes lower.

He’s more than beautiful in the darkness as he throws his head back on a moan, the drag of his cock smooth as he hits deep and she craves more—more closeness, more of his touch, more of his lips.

“Kiss me,” she gasps and instantly regrets the words and the desperation of them as her hands still lay obediently above her head, her back arching with every thrust.

Astarion’s hips stutter, losing their rhythm as he looks down at her, fixating on the petal pink of her lips, and Rin’s heart practically stops at what she sees when he looks at her.

A hand traces its way up from her hip to grab hold of her chin, touch firm as Astarion’s eyes move away from her lips to stare into her own, searching for something in the verdant depths of them. His gaze is alight with a precious heat that threatens to burn every inch of her—the fire she’s secretly dreamed of seeing there in his eyes when he looks at her.

His lips crash into hers with no words or preamble, meeting her half way as she surges her head up and their lips press together. Her arms lift, leaving their resting place above her head to wrap around his neck as Astarion’s tongue runs against the seam of her lips in askance, her own parting eagerly for him.

She can taste the remnants of herself on his lips, both the richness of her cunt and the metallic tang of her blood; and it’s heady, it’s divine as his lips chase after her own as they kiss and kiss and kiss, his hips still joined with hers all the while.

The hand that had been poised on her chin strokes upward, running over the plane of her cheek in a barely there touch that has her heart stuttering as their lips move.

Gods, she’d been wishing for the feeling of his lips on hers, and if the only way she can get it is when he fucks her, then so be it.

It’s not the only kind of kiss she wants from him but it’s the kiss she will take, desperate despite her every wish otherwise.

She’s gasping when Astarion finally breaks the kiss, taking in precious breaths of air as his lips lift only just away from hers. His hips slow and Rin looks questioningly up at Astarion, arms still twined tightly around his neck.

A small burst of panic bubbles up in her chest as she feels him slide out her, hips pulling away from hers to leave her empty; and worry that she had perhaps done something wrong or said something she shouldn’t have fills her mind.

“Astarion? Is everything alright? Did I—” she cuts herself off as the hand at her cheek brushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear while its twin travels up her thigh to curve around her waist, urging her body upwards with a gentle pull.

“Let’s try something a little different, hm? Now, up.”

His hold is tight—secure—as they both shift to sitting, Astarion helping her along the way until she is upright in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs as she hovers.

“Now, tell me, sweet thing. Have you ever been fucked like this before?” His eyes pierce into her own as a hand curls around the back of her head, fingers tangling in her curls.

“No.” Rin shakes her head from side to side, biting her lip as his length finds her entrance once more, pushing with the barest hint of pressure against her.

“Good.”

With a swift thrust, Astarion sheathes himself inside of her as his lips capture hers, swallowing her answering moan as Rin arches against his chest. The hand wrapped around her waist travels down, fingertips squeezing into the flesh of her ass to help guide her hips up and down his cock.

They’re on equal footing like this, noses brushing against each other’s as their bodies work, Rin’s hips meeting Astarion’s own in a smooth cadence. The closeness—the intimacy of it—is intoxicating as their lips meet again and again, arms wrapped around each other as their fingertips dig into each other’s skin.

It’s not as fast or as hard as she’s used to, but somehow it’s better—the lack of quick thrusts is made up for instead by hard rolls of their hips, Astarion reaching the deepest part of her core as they hold each other close, not an bit of space between them.

His length brushes against what feels like every inch of her walls, sending sparks through her body as the heat coiling in her stomach rises higher with every move they make.

Rin is only mildly aware of the marks he left on her thigh breaking open once more, tiny drops of her blood leaving ruby red smears against both her and Astarion’s flesh as her hands map the planes of his face and their lips press.

Any other time, she would be blushing at the noise of their bodies moving together, the wet glide of his length driving in and out of her and the sound of skin on skin audible in the confines of Astarion’s tent; but instead she’s unabashed as she moves up and down his cock and he thrusts up to meet her, moans falling freely from both of their mouths as their kiss breaks.

She’s getting closer and she can tell he is too, the intensity of his thrusts only getting harder and deeper as every roll of his hips has his length brushing against her sweet spot as she loses her rhythm against him as her body begins to quake.

“Eyes on me.” Astarion’s forehead presses into hers as her lashes flutter, the height of her pleasure curling around her, ephemeral and just out of reach.

The heat burning inside her reaches a crescendo, his name whispered from her lips on a broken gasp as her hold on him tightens, fingertips digging into his skin.

She’s tremulous as she tightens around him and he kisses her moans from her, quieting the sound of them as her hands grasp for purchase around his shoulders and he pumps his cock, hitting the very same spot that never fails to have her falling apart in his arms.

Rin sees stars behind her eyes as she tumbles over the edge of the crest, constricting hard on him as she comes on a near silent cry. Her hips writhe as Astarion holds her steady despite the ragged moan that falls from his lips as he watches her fall apart with half-lidded eyes.

She’s clinging to him as she rides out the rest of her orgasm on the hardened length still thrusting inside her, Astarion working her through the waves of pleasure that suffuse through her limbs.

A dreamy, hazy euphoria descends over her like a fog as she finally comes back to herself, her first thought to press another kiss to the pair of lips that still brush against hers.

Rin takes a lungful of air on a deep breath, beginning to move her hips against his once more despite the contented exhaustion blanketing her as she speaks with a soft, teasing lilt. “I thought you were going to come in my sweet cunt, Astarion.”

“Still the plan, darling.” Astarion’s lost in his own pleasure as he speaks, eyes fixated on her own as his hips snap hard into hers.

The hand on her ass tightens, fingertips near bruising as Astarion’s thrusts begin lose their rhythm in the wake her orgasm, the feeling of her cunt spasming around his length as she had come only serving to drive him closer to his own completion.

Her fingertips run down his cheek as he looks at her, his control breaking on every push of his hips that she meets readily.

“Then do it,” She whispers. “Please come for me, Astarion.”

Rin presses her mouth to his in a hard kiss, gasping as he changes the angle of his thrusts to hit the very end of her cunt.

At her words, Astarion follows her over the edge, moaning his ecstasy into her lips as he comes. His hips rut frantically against hers, spilling himself inside her with unrestrained thrusts.

Rin grasps him tighter as his orgasm rushes through him, taking each and every sound that falls from him as he works through the waves of pleasure coursing through his limbs.

Finally, Astarion’s hips slow to a halt as their chests heave, still locked in their embrace, the haze of the aftermath floating around them. His lips press against hers one last time before he ducks his head to fit against her neck, breathing in the scent of her.

Rin’s not sure how long they stay like that, both catching their breath as her arms hang loose around him, Astarion’s face still buried in her neck as his fingers grip around waist.

Eventually, it’s Astarion who moves first, gently pulling his softened cock from her as he lifts his head and leans back towards his bedroll, taking her down with him.

They lay next to each other on the ruined blanket, a light sheen of sweat sticking to their skin.

“That was—” Astarion starts, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to push it out of his face.

Rin finishes the sentence for him, her heart still beating in a staccato rhythm. “Amazing? Fantastic? The best sex you’ve ever had?”

“Well, you think quite highly of yourself, don’t you?” Astarion turns his head to face her, brow raised.

Rin leans in, bumping their foreheads together in a light touch before whispering her reply on a smile. “That wasn’t a no.”

Astarion rolls her eyes and she laughs, and she swears she can see the slightest hint of pink coloring his cheeks, no doubt from the help of her blood still running through him.

He sits up, stretching his arms above his head, the muscles in his back shifting and Rin lets out an appreciative hum at the sight.

“Oh, and Astarion.” Rin smiles as she rolls her shoulders, settling further into the blanket. “If you burn my shirt, I will be forced to take action. Possibly with a knife. Just so we’re clear.”

His head whips back to glance at her, a wicked look in his eye. “Flirting again already? Give me a moment to recover, dearest.”

Astarion’s eyes skate down her naked form, still lying in a boneless heap upon his bedroll.

“Gods, look at you. You’re an absolute mess.” She can feel the blood drying on her thighs and on the spots where he had left bloodied kisses up her body, his come threatening to spill out of her with even the slightest movement. “Get ahold of yourself, darling.”

“An absolute mess that you made.” Rin peeks down to look at herself, skin still flushed and dotted with red marks in the vague shape of his lips.

“I’d gladly make it again, too.” Astarion turns back to the side, reaching for a spare decanter of presumably water and grabbing a piece of soft cloth.

“I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement.”

She takes in the bloodied blanket beneath her as she hazards a stretch, reaching her arms above her head as her feet point, back arching as she comes up to her elbows.

“Has anyone ever told you that your bedroll is absolutely awful? How you manage to sleep on something so hard is beyond my ability to imagine. We should steal you a new one.”

Even with the awful plank beneath her, it would be so easy to stay on a night like tonight. Too easy to imagine settling into his side, the now familiar contours of his body beside her own as they rested together, limbs tangling. She’s never slept in anyone’s arms before that she can remember, and she wonders how it must feel to spend hours simply wrapped in Astarion’s embrace and then to wake up next to him at first light.

Please ask me to stay.

The words come from a deep, dark part of her mind unbidden; but the wanting they bring with them threatens to ruin her as her heart beats harder.

“Or you could always come share mine, I guess. I promise I’ll keep you nice and warm.” It’s a risk speaking those kind of words, Rin crossing a line they’ve never dared to before.

Astarion’s body tenses slightly, the line of his shoulders stiffening.

He dips the mouth of the decanter over onto a spare cloth to wet it before turning back to her, expression strangely blank. The sight of it puts her ill at ease, as if the warm intimacy they had shared had been snuffed out like a candle’s flame.

Astarion runs the cloth over her form, erasing any evidence of him from her skin. His spend, the blood on her thighs, the messy kisses up her chest—all of it gone with a simple brush of water on cloth.

She nods her thanks, her heart sinking as regret burns in her throat.

“Well, it’s been lovely. You’re always such a treat.” Astarion summons a veil across his eyes, an empty smirk on his lips as he sets the cloth to the side. “You should go get some sleep, darling. Who knows who else you’ll need to convince to kill themselves tomorrow.”

It’s like a slap to the cheek—cold water to wake her from the warm embrace of a dream. It wasn’t the first time he had said such words to her, but this is the first time she realizes that she hates them with every fibre of her being.

“Oh.” She bites her lip, hoping she hides her disappointment well enough; but from the way Astarion averts his gaze to focus on an invisible point on other side of the tent, she doesn’t need to worry much. “I suppose you do need your beauty sleep, don’t you? Far be it from me to get in the way.”

Rin doesn’t want to hear what he has to say, she decides, as she pulls herself up to sitting beside him. She’s not certain she can look at him either, not at the cool and aloof expression that seems to have taken residence across his features.

He hadn’t looked like that when he kissed her.

No, he had looked the exact opposite, his expression mirroring the longing she knows had been etched onto her own as their lips had met.

Without a word, Rin stands and walks over the blankets heaped along the floor to where her clothes lay discarded in a heap, her footsteps soft against the ground.

Silently, she redresses, not bothering with the corset as she leaves it unlaced at her feet and pulls the rest of her clothes back on with perfunctory ease. Her tunic is partially over her head when she dares a look back at Astarion, the collar floating down to rest against her skin as she turns her head.

His face is imperceptible as he watches her, sitting still as stone. She forces a small smile, hoping that the dejection she feels doesn’t come across as she speaks to him one last time for the evening.

“Sleep well, Astarion.”

Astarion nods his head, a clear dismissal if she’s ever seen one. “Until the morning, darling.”

Until the morning, indeed.

Until the morning, where they’ll pretend everything is fine and nothing has changed as they play around each other in some sort of tiring, endless game.

And maybe Astarion can. Maybe, for him, nothing ever did change.

Rin doesn’t know quite what it is that they are building towards; but between the little bits of their lives shared with one another, the tiny little secrets that bare ragged pieces of their souls, the long evenings spent by the side of the fire laughing and talking and playing games, between the kisses and caresses and the meeting of their eyes—it feels like something.

Something more than simply being bedmates.

With a single, deep breath she reaches down to grab her corset, collecting it in hand as she turns and walks out the front flap of his tent without another look back, unable to promise she can keep her expression even in the face of his seemingly cold indifference.

Rin keeps her eyes ahead as she walks by the campfire, Gale politely looking the other way, not commenting on how she must look or what he must have heard—her hair is undoubtedly a mess, corset rumpled in hand, lips still too swollen to be confused with being anything other than readily kissed.

She withholds the sigh that threatens to break free as she makes her way towards her tent, and she’s grateful that at least there is no one else by the fire to witness the utterly pathetic sight of her as she keeps her eyes straight forward.

“I hope you know what you are doing.” Gale’s voice stops her before she can step into her tent, and she freezes, shifting the corset in hand in hopes of hiding it better, though she knows it’s useless. “I say this with the utmost respect, you understand. As your friend.”

Rin can hear the slightest bit of judgment in the words despite the kindness of them but she shakes it off. She probably deserves his judgment, in the end.

She pastes a weak smile on her face, squeezing the corset tighter in her hand as she turns to look at the wizard where he sits by the fire, a familiar spell book in hand.

“It’s all good Gale, nothing to worry about. I promise.”

“I trust your judgement, then. Sleep well, my friend.” Gale gives her a polite nod, but the look on his face says that he’s thoroughly unconvinced by her words.

Such aspiring confidence her companions have in her, it seems.

Rin certainly doesn’t blame him for it.

She can barely convince herself of the fact, after all.

With one last sigh she walks through the flap of her tent, letting it flutter shut behind her as she steps inside the familiar surroundings she now calls home.

It smells like it always does, jasmine and honey hanging in the air, and not a one of her possessions is out of place—however few of them she has.

But as she drops the corset on the ground, she can’t help but feel that something is missing.

Hands come up to cover her eyes as she presses the heel of her palms into them, hoping to rid her mind of such thoughts, however there’s no comfort to be found as shapes swirl on the back of her eyelids.

If she had any sense at all, she would quit while she was still ahead and could leave somewhat unscathed from whatever this thing growing between them is.

But she knows herself better than that.

She knows that, instead of stopping this and sparing herself the almost inevitable promise of pain that their little affair will bring, she will pull herself back together just in time to face the darkness of the morning and pretend that everything is just fine—all the while knowing deep down that she will keep making the same mistake over and over again and relish it every single time.

#this chapter wrecked me lmao it's so goddamn long #but I hope you all enjoy it!!#astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfiction #astarion smut #verbenaa writes things!

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