#and it could be a genuine question but again I don’t know you and I don’t want to waste time explaining if you’re gonna fight me on it late

[jittersbitters]

The Long Game pt.2 [Cautious]

{Viktor from Arcane Smut Story}

Warnings: smut, light dom!vik, jealousy, fingering, oral (female receiving), more exhibitionism, AFAB reader, Arcane + IRL accurate Politics, it a bit long, mentions of praise, choking kink if you REAAALLY squint, Salo being an asshole

Word count: 7.7K (40-60min read time)

Story plot: A holistic healer from NW Shurima works privately for Councilmen Hoskel as a sort of assistant. Viktor and her meet years before the events of Arcane and have an up-down relationship that takes shape over the course of many years. Starting all the way back in their academy years, first knowing each other as respective transcribers for their council mentor/patrons during meetings. Maybe they should have stayed in that room?

Chapter Summary: After a turbulent meeting with your boss you are forced to go to a holiday celebration at the Kirammen's. Having low, boring expectations for your night till Viktor's unexpected presence crashes you're suffocating political agenda and that of the aristocrats around you. Just when tension mounts and uncertainties seem to linger, a heated moment on a balcony has the academy assistant pulling you into the garden for a new level of risk.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | • Viktor Masterlist •

Authors Note: Sorry for taking longer than I said to get this out. I passed out writing and went to the hospital for dehydration and other chronic issues I aggravated over this last semester. I'm fine now and got released for Yule/Christmas day. It's not technically a holiday fic but it has the elements for it. It long again but I had nother else todo in the hospital and I couldn't post with their shitty internet.

MDNI NSFW below cut (Farther below)

“Councilman?” I knocked on the door, popping my head in with a quick look around the room. Large imported furniture and crystal edged windows that made light flit across the room — why couldn’t these windows be in the rest of the house again? “I finished rewriting the notes from the last meeting.”  

“Hmm.” He waved me in with a boney hand, glancing up just quick enough from his mess of papers to check if I shut the door behind me. I eyed him as I came to stand in front of his desk; the tension in his brow deepening as he squinted at his notes, his hand trembling slightly as he rubbed his eyes. I noted the number of lines he had struck out, effectively rendering that page useless. His eyesight was starting to go; I’d have to add it to the list of ailments to tend to— or attempt to.  

I threw a crumpled piece of paper that had rolled away into the trash can, offering him a soft smile. “Don’t worry about organizing the trade deals. My father had me handling his for years, so I’m certain I can craft somethi—”  

“Craft?” His laugh was coarse, filled with a familiar malic. He regarded my business acumen as little more than a joke in comparison to what my healing skills could do. “You genuinely believe I would allow you to draft such important documents? With that pitiful excuse for business jargon you just spat, I’m questioning whether I should even let you deliver them!” I visibly flinched as his snotty, blended gravel of a laugh filled my ears and making my stomach turn inside out.  

I flinched at the weight in his sardonic laughter, a sound both grating and belittling that echoed in my ears, squeezing my insides. How could I have allowed my empathy to blind me, even momentarily, to the repugnant shell-like cockroach of a man he truly was?  

Sadly... he had financed my journey here, provided a roof over my head in Piltover—a debt I could not easily shaken off without my parent’s coin purse. My parents wouldn’t risk their own money; paying Hoskel back might ‘demotivate’ me and endanger our diplomatic efforts.  

Their words, not mine. 

Unable to quit but him equally unable to fire me, I expressed my displeasure by slamming the notes onto his desk with a glare. He raised his arms like I had attempted to hit him, face mixing with disbelief and anger as he watched me take long strides out of the room. “You belligerent—!”  

I slammed the door behind me, hands clawing at the neckline of my dress, feeling the fabric constrict like the atmosphere in this suffocating place. I had to remind myself to breathe. 

~~<3~~ 

The Kirammen house looked gorgeous in the light of the setting sun. The building’s blue and off-white colors blended beautifully with the setting sun. A breeze gently swaying the bare trees tops and fluttering the ladies' dresses. I pulled my fur shawl tighter around my shoulders, feeling a shiver creep down my spine. My dress cut far to low for this weather, material cold against my skin as it shimmered in the dying light. It was not built for winter; I was not built for winter. 

“Cassandra is eager to see you tonight,” Hoskel said, gently rubbing my hand as he linked our arms to lead me through the doors to escape the evenings chill. 

We were attending yet another gathering for Piltover’s social class; a stuffy event just for indulging in the exotic food and drink from their stores. Loose lips made for the best business deals. Unfortunate for me, Hoskel had brought me as an accessory, an attraction he intended to parade around to facilitate prospective deals. The conversations typically stretched on forever, dull and monotonous Noxus in summer seemed better, frankly.  

 “May I?”  A servant helped me slip out of my fur before disappearing to hang. The house was grand on its own, though I still couldn’t help but admire the evening’s decor—pearl chains and satin draped with velvet bows hanging beautifully throughout the space. Evergreen garland and red berries stung with gold thread. The flickering glow from the countless candles pulled me into the warmth of its ambiance, nearly distracting me from the pair of molten eyes observing me from across the room.    

There is no way... 

My reaction upon spotting Viktor wasn’t subtle, but I made no effort to disguise it. A complex smile tugged at my lips, my heart fluttering in my chest. Viktor had never graced any of these gatherings before, and Heimerdinger was only slightly more inclined to socialize, once every couple of months. For both to attend... 

Viktor was up to something... 

He looked good, too. Suspiciously good.  

But I wasn’t complaining... 

Leaning casually into his cane as he stood with a group of fellow academics alongside Heimerdinger. He had traded his Academy uniform for a sharp wine-red shirt and a fitted black dress jacket. He had preened; it was obvious. From the shine of his shoes and the polished metal of his cane.  

A wave of embarrassment rushed through me as I watched his thumbs absent-mindedly stroke the handle, remembering. I haven’t been able to get the feeling, the ghost of his fingers, out of my mind the last couple of days. I had to catch myself from ‘slipping up’, letting my mind wander to far during the day. Then at night it seemed to be the opposite, unable to finish what he started as my body wasn’t satisfied by my own hand.  

The gold cord of my dress suddenly felt heavier against my neck as he caught where my stare lingered. Rolling his lips to suppress a smile as he gave me a small bounce of his brow, seemingly pleased as he looked at my appearance. 

I had never cared about anyone's approval, but his made my cheeks warm with shyness.      

“My lovely sage,” Cassandra Kiramman glided over, her arms open wide. Her dress was perfectly tailored to match the evening’s decor, resembling a pearl on a silver necklace. Her welcoming hug pulled me away from my distraction in the form of a brunette scientist. “Piltover seems to be treating you well!”    

“My sage, Councilwoman,” Hoskel interjected quickly, watching our embrace with a scowl as his opposing chairwoman shot him a reproachful glare over my shoulder.    

“Calm down, Tormund,” Tobias slid between us as his wife released me, much to Hoskel’s annoyance. “Your sour demeanor might just chase her away.” He wrapped an arm around me briefly, giving a reassuring squeeze. “Just let us know if he becomes too much. Our patron from midtown is always keen to discuss sun-stones.”    

“While he can be a bit blunt, Hoskel has been quite the gracious host these last few months,” I replied, glancing at Hoskel to let him know my words were meant for him as much as for the Kirammans.    

“How... unusual for him,” Cassandra eye the short man, clearly aware of Hoskel’s nature, before masking her suspicion with a smile. “You must join us for tea sometime; Caitlyn has been eager to showcase her marksmanship achievements,” She squeezed my arm before linking with Tobias.    

Tobias shot Hoskel a pointed look. “Give the girl a break, councilman. From what I heard about the last meeting, she certainly deserves it.” He turned to me, smiling warmly. “Always a pleasure, dear. Do make time for a visit.”    

Hoskel grumbled subtly under his breath as we watched them slip into the crowd of arriving guests. He grasped my arm tightly, drawing my attention to him. “Don’t wander off,” he warned, almost threatened. I watched him walk away, scoffing as he went straight for shady merchants and traders. Never a man to change.  

Seeing an opening in my night, I turned back to where Viktor once was and found nothing. He had seemingly vanished form thin air, leaving behind a conversation that reflected the same. I tried to move through the crow, looking around for him in the sea of bodies. My irritation starting to bristle the longer I looked, severely needing a drink.  

“Excuse me.” I tried to call for a server, huffing when a group to monopolize his tray. I turned for another one, following after another server as tried to wave for his attention without attracting everyone's around me. They only seemed to turn their back from me, “May I—” 

“Two glasses.” That familiar drawl cut in beside me. My blush from before coming back to my cheeks as Viktor stood there, hand coming up to gently brushing my up my back as he leaned closer. Body carefully hovering around mine as his other arm reached around to take the glasses from the server’s tray. “Thank you.”  

“Viktor.” I breathed, finding my words trying to hide in my throat as my heart jumped up to meet them. I took my drink from him, holding it awkwardly in both hands so I wouldn’t drop it “I —I didn’t expect to see you here.”   

“Mm. Was not my original plan for my night.” His smile warmed me from the inside out even as his fingers brushed the collum of my spin softly, curling to first graze his knuckles before splaying to take up as much space as possible. He was bolder, I had given him an inch and he was determined to take a mile.  

“That make’s two of us.” I spoke into my drink, trying to hide in my drink as his fingers made the muscles of my back shutter underneath them.  

“Are you not enjoying?” he asked, and I could sense a hint of hope hiding beneath his casual words. I hesitated, noticing his untamed eagerness running wild in his eyes as he watched my expression for any advantage.  

“...I’m mostly here out of obligation.” I confided, glancing at Hoskel smoozing. I sucked my teeth before turning into victor more, any reservations I had about ‘wander’ vanishing as I felt peeved by him- still sour with our earlier fight. “I’d rather be bundling or reading, but I won’t turn down the free food and drinks... or company” I took a sip from my glass, reveling in the sweet taste.     

He hummed, smiling into his own as he took a swallow to find his words. “We are... much alike, it seems.” He whispered into the edge of his glass before taking another quick drink.  

“Are you here just for the food?” I teased, pressing farther as I saw my own advantage. 

 “Perhaps,” he mused, before adding with a hushed tone, “perhaps not.” a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth as he spoke low in my ear like we were sharing a secret. I suppose we were, but he didn’t have to make it so obvious. “I can’t say my presence here is entirely selfless.” I returned to my drink, finding it nearly empty and my mouth still parched, as his eyes bore into mine. Conveying a multitude of thoughts and intentions that were unspeakable, less they be heard by unwanted ears.     

“You're quite the uncautious man.” I licked my lips as I swaying slightly. I turned to watch the room instead as I faltered under his gaze, his alone like a thousand pairs observing every little twitch my lips made and breath I took.  

The atmosphere thickened as the night wore on, guests gravitating toward the food table we stood in front of as new arrivals flowed in. With the added closeness, he was forced to move closer. His eyes traced a path along my neck and shoulder, tracing the cording wrapping my neck and the hang of my spiral earrings dangling from my lobe, watching how it brushed my shoulder every time I took a deeper breath.  

“In.” His thumb started to stroke between my shoulder blades as his breath fanned the side of my face, voice a low thrum in my ear. 

My breath hitched as I felt myself gravitate toward him, eyeing him from the corners of my vision. My heart starting to make its nervous ascent up my throat again. “What?” 

“It’s incautious.” His corrected with a self-satisfied smile, delighting in my surprise as his hand shifted up to thumb at the cord wrapping around my neck to hold up the front of my dress. He played with it, running the finger along the stack, his hand resting at the base of my neck. Holding me gently as he guided me away from the increasingly crowded table, deliberately closing any lingering distance between us as our sides came together. “How do you say…” We were so close he only needed to murmur, “The student becomes the master.”  

A rush of heat coursed through me, breath hitching in my throat. The cord around my neck felt suddenly too tight, and I weakly pulled with it in search of relief. 

His thumb slid under the cords in response, relieving some of the pressure from the back. Simultaneously, pulling them into my throat, the contrast made my insides twist and flutter. Did he know just what he was doing? 

“Viktor—" 

“Ah! Just the woman I was looking for.” I stood there, mired in thoughts about Viktor’s intentions when Salo’s honeyed voice cut through the ambient chatter of the party. “The talented apothecary Hoskel insists on keeping all to himself!” the councilman approached with a mockingly congenial smile. Even his simplest words felt more like insults, his eyes glinting with condescension. “You’re making quite a name for yourself in my assistant's circles. Even Medarda’s girl is asking about you. Well done.”    

I had to blink before I was able to force a polite smile, despite the flutter in my stomach quickly turning to annoyance. “Thank you, Councilman Salo. I do my best to serve who I can in need.” I felt Viktor’s irritation souring the air already as he glowered at Salo, hand not curling against my back now starting to grip his cane tighter. 

“Hmph, then perhaps this is the perfect moment to discuss your relationship with the council.” He slinked closer, cutting into my previous conversation with Viktor and trying to steal my attention like a vulture. “With your... herbal remedies, you could become a valuable asset.” His voice dripped with feigned admiration, his gaze flickering toward Viktor as if urging him to leave us.   

Before I could respond, Salo’s hand settled at the base of my back, where my dress hung low with loose fabric. My heart raced with discomfort. I instinctively arched away, only to feel his hand follow. Each brush of his fingers intensified my urge to disappear into the ornate wallpaper. Salo had the kind of connections that could shift the city’s dynamics, while I was merely a healer in Hoskel’s service. This position left me with little choice; despite every fiber of my being screaming at me to move away, I held still.    

Salo had never been this friendly with me, but he had a reputation for being opportunistic. I wondered how long it would take for the rumors of Hoskel’s deteriorating health to reach his ears, validating the others about Salo eyeing his resources for a takeover, and I guess that included me.  

Viktor stood a few paces behind me, tension radiating from him as he sized up the situation. I hoped he would let me handle this on my own; any bad reaction to Salo could jeopardize my reputation, and by extension my patron’s. Our fragile partnership wouldn’t survive a public argument with his biggest rival.     

“Think about how much the council could benefit from your knowledge, especially with a favorable recommendation regarding your parents—” Salo continued, oblivious to my discomfort. He began to guide me away from Viktor, toward his group of colleagues and traders to talk with. Hand incessantly pressing into the small of my back, uncaring. “—you could assist with—”     

Viktor stepped forward to stop us, his expression rigid as he glanced between us. “I believe the lady is busy, Councilman,” 

He just had to say something. My knight in shining fucking armor. It would be endearingly cute, if it wasn’t ill timed. 

“Oh! Heimerdinger’s undercity assistant!” Salo face flickered as turned to Viktor, a sourness to his tone even as he tried to hide it.” I did not expect either of you here. So many interesting personalities in attendance it seems.” 

I tried not to scoff at the unabashed classism; the Piltover-Zaun political climate was not lost on the surrounding Shumira cities, and it seemed to be as much of a game to Salo as my discomfort was. “Councilmen Salo, I think—” 

“Not that I’d expect you to see potential—beyond just scrap metal,” Salo interrupted, talking over me because I suddenly didn’t matter now that his authority was being challenged. Ugh, men.” you must see something of use, of course. Why else would you concern yourself?” The audacity of him, fixing his gaze on Viktor’s cane and his injured leg, as if he relished the chance to undermine him further. I could see Viktor's jaw clench, his eyes momentarily darting away, a subtle but telling sign that the jabs, however veiled, had hit their mark. “Just think about what she could bring to the council—her help with medicinal initiatives and valuable insights.”    

I leaned away from Salo with shooting brows, my tone slightly raised in shock and indignation. I wanted connections, not backhanded compliments at the expense of others. “Councilmen, that is not— 

Viktor’s hand found its way to my back, and my hiccup, combined with the warmth of his touch between my shoulder blades, caused me to stumble over my words. “The lady has other commitments,” he declared, pointing a challenging gaze at Salo that warned him to back off. His fingers firmly gasping at my skin, attempting to press me closer to him, each movement revealing the simmering anger beneath his composed exterior. Despite my embarrassment at my back became their battle ground, I couldn't help but appreciate Viktor’s defense. “It would be rude to keep her from them, don’t you think?” 

Frustration flickered in his eyes; he was losing. “Relax, we’re just having a friendly conversation,” Salo tried to hum, his condescension clear — he was used to charm working in his favor. “Isn’t that right, my dear?” He turned to look at me, pressing his fingers into my lower back, copying Viktor but he was daring me to disagree.    

Oh, now they were letting me talk? How kind.  

Swallowing hard, I bit back venom and fear, and I forced a tight smile. “Quite... However,” I struggled to keep my voice steady with the unease in my stomach, “I really should get back to my rounds.” I shifted into Viktor as his glare burned through the air around is, boiling as Salo’s smile returned, trying to grab at the last bit of dominance I just threw him. It all left a bitter taste in my mouth I wasn’t going to be rid of anytime soon.   

“I’ll escort you,” Viktor shut down any farther attempts from Salo, tugging me to his side. The blond scoffed, realizing he had lost and bowing out gracefully. Finally withdrawing his hand. “If you’ll excuse us, Councilman,” Viktor lowered his head mockingly, I copied clumsily, before guiding me with a little push, leaving no room for protest.    

“An interesting evening ahead, isn’t it?” Salo called, dripping irritation as he stepped back, the amusement fading from his face as he watched our hasty exit.    

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. My heart no longer strangling itself in my throat. “Thank you—”    

“Come,” Viktor hissed into my ear, voice low. He continues to slide his hand down, leading me through the crowd, absorbed in his own churning thoughts and seemingly oblivious to how we appeared to others. He halted at the dip; jealousy evident. He allowed himself to cast one last glare over his shoulder as he let out a quiet tsk, thinking I wouldn’t catch him. But I did.  

I caught the way his fingers slid across the collum of my spine while holding open the garden’s balcony door. I noticed how he was taking up the same spot where Salo’s hand lingered; however, unlike tentative touch Viktor greeted me with before, this was unmistakably more aggressive.    

Once outside, the crisp night air enveloped us, washing away the stuffiness of the gathering and the tension from the exchange. It allowed my chest to finally expand fully, allowing me to feel lighter as I found my way to the balcony’s edge. The moon bathed the carefully manicured hedges in a silvery glow, and the intoxicating scent of blooming jasmine drifted around us.  The cool night sent a grounding shiver through my body, helping to steady my rapid heartbeat.  

I felt his hand brush over my shoulders as he followed to stand next to me. “Are you —” 

“You can’t bait Salo like that,” I interrupted this time as pushing his hand away and turning back toward him. Rationality flooding back, hindsight being unfairly 20/20. Seeing the damage we could have caused to my future here. I took a calming breath to stead any hostility that leaked into my voice; I wasn’t angry, I was scared. “Your words were sharp—almost reckless. Don’t you care how it reflects on me—or even Heimerdinger?”   

“Reckless,” He scoffed, not getting my point. “Heimerdinger will survive.” I tsked at his answer, looking away as his expression soured at the sound. There was something so genuine that hurt. “You think I should just smile and nod like a simple courtier? I refuse to compromise my integrity!”  

“’A simple courtier’?” My head felt like a swivel as it snapped back to him, gawking at him for a moment. Hurt sinking as his last word struck a chord.  

He’s too stubborn, but perhaps he had a half a point.  

“I am not... I — “My tongue feeling heavy as forced myself to speak freely to, basically, a stranger. “Salo is... a pompous, self-serving ass. I know he is, Viktor, but integrity holds little value in politics. I can’t screw anything up here. ”   

He hesitated, his voice becoming a weird combination of biting and soft. “His actions were unnecessary. I was merely pushing back.” There it was—a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. Was it jealousy?    

I stepped closer, my own curiosity peaked. 

“What do you mean by ‘pushing back’?” I watched his reactions as I talked, looking for something else. Though, I still had to lecture him, just gentler than I originally intended. “If Salo interprets your comments as an insult, it could backfire on me.” I glided around the balcony, staying with the railing, so there was at least some distance between us even as I stayed in his orbit. “Hoskel could fire me and then...” I shrugged, giving him a coy stare. 

A flicker of regret softened the fierce look in Viktor's eyes. “It’s hard to watch,” he confessed, “After the meeting, I—”, before hesitating, “You’re so familiar with him.”     

“Being familiar with him is part of my job, Viktor.” My heart raced, fighting to maintain composure as I caught his backtracking. Feeling excitement as I played with him for once. “This city isn’t just made from science and formulas; it’s built by perceptions. Salo has the power to manipulate those perceptions. This attitude could lead to...”    

“Don’t you think I understand that?” he snapped, the frustration growing in his tone amplifying something lighter, more vulnerable. “You’re worried about my attitude? What about Salo’s? His hand on your back tonight was completely inappropriate!” 

“So that’s what this is about? You think I don’t know how to handle myself?” The way his eye twitched made me refute the idea before he was able to respond. I could see why he liked watching my reactions, it was like a puzzle and his was growing interesting by the second. “No. You’re reacting this way because you don’t like how he treats me. Specifically.”  

And I was going to crack it. 

“Thats not...” Viktor looked away to find compose; frustration and compunction evident in the way his jaw clenched, staring out into the garden. A breath rattling his bottle, shoulders heaving before he stepped toward me, feeling safe. “His motives seemed questionable; caution... would be best.”    

“Caution?” I challenged, taking the moment as an opportunity to press. With what felt like glee, I tilted my head. Being coy again.  “That’s rich coming from you.” 

 He scoffed, “What does that mean—”   

“Hand on my thigh,” I shot, pushing from the railing to enclosed on him again feeling emboldened as I watched him instinctively backed up. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks as I watched one start to tinge his own. “Whispering in my ear to just pay attention,” I jabbed an accusing finger into his chest, feeling the heat radiate between us. “Fingers traveling farther and farther up. Persisting. Inappropriate.”    

“That was different!” He seized my elbow, yanking me toe to toe with him as a burning intensity sent a thrill up through me. “Both of us are at fault for what happened.”   

“Fault?” I scoffed; my voice laced with mock hurt even as a bit of truth seeped in. “You... You're the one who fingered me in the middle of a council session!”    

His gaze narrowed as warmth flushed fully consumed his cheeks, a spark of defiance igniting in him at my exclamation. He started to back me up, countering my attempt to corner him to the window with his own. “Did you not enjoy it...”    

“Excuse me?” I tried to retreat, only to feel my escape blocked by the railing I once sought comfort in, his body soon to follow as he boxed me in.   

“Did you not,” his head dipped as his hand came to rest against the edge of the stone as he left his cane next to us, “enjoy my fingers buried inside you?” His gaze bore into mine with an intensity that crackled the air between us with an intoxicating mix of confrontation and undeniable attraction.   

I couldn’t breathe. 

“Viktor —”   

Viktor leaned in closer, his voice playful yet laced with an intensity that sent a thrill through me. "Did. You. Enjoy. It?" His breath fanning down the side of my face and neck again. This time without the stale air of the party I could smell the carbonated alcohol on his breath mixed with the spice of something with anise. "I won't repeat myself again."   

I didn’t hesitate with this chose — "Yes.”   

In that moment, his lips crashed against mine with a fervor that transcended the heated words we’d exchanged. The kiss ignited the air around us and I melted against him, my resolve crumbling like fragile parchment before a roaring flame, consuming heat radiated from his every action.    

His hands started at my waist, burning me as his teeth found my lower lip and pulling it hard with desperation. A shameless, startled moan jumping from the back of my throat allowing his tongue to muffle it a second later. I used a tight grip to ground myself, hands sliding from his shoulders to curl into his hair as I gave back everything he gifted. Longing and frustration, a bitter-sweet concoction, two vastly different worlds colliding in a moment that felt dangerously exhilarating. I felt every nerve in my body awaken as his lips smothered mine and vice versa, adding gasoline to a fire that was smoldering inside us.    

I felt out chopped breath mingling, dulling my senses and drowning out the rational voice that warned of the trouble this could cause if someone looked out the window. One of his hands began to move to find the familiar skin of my thigh. Grabbing it with a hapless want, pulling it closer to his. Bending me slightly as he pushed in for more, teeth bumping as he took everything he could. I couldn’t bring myself to protest, reveling in the warmth of his body that seem to encircle me, protecting from the chill of a dry winter beyond this intimate cocoon we had created.   

We didn’t pull away so much as me having to push him back, breathless and dazed. My fingers playing with whatever they could grab, one still in his hair and the other fiddling with his shirt collar. I could feel the weight of our argument dissipating still, leaving behind the lingering ache of unfulfilled desires. My heart raced in my ears to the same beat as the party just a couple yards away behind a glass door. A thill matching the swell of my lips and the pressure of his fingers, it was dizzying already.   

Did he feel it too...?  

My questioned seemed to be readable on my face as he answered with another kiss, insatiable but sweet this time. A hand jumping to hold my face as he tilted my head perfectly into his. His hand bigger them my check as his fingers found part of my hair to smooth other my ear. He drank in every small sound I couldn’t hide, the hand on my thigh starting to push up the split of my skit. Tracing and thumbing the reflective material, teasing it higher and higher.   

His kiss was a sweet as candy, but his actions mimicked the liquor of our drinks. I was ready to risk being caught if it meant I could satisfy the slowly droning thrum starting in my belly.   

“Where is that damn healer!” The shrill, angered voice of my patron broke us away from each other. Viktor and I broke apart to watch Hoskel pass by the window looking for me, both of us stiffening as we waited for him to find us. Luckily, he didn’t, continuing on through the room grumbling something muffled by the door.   

I let out a small laugh that seemed to infect him, our heads still spinning. “I should... I should go see what he wants before someone comes out here looking,” I hummed, reluctantly pulled away from Viktor, giving a soft push to his shoulder to urge him to let go of my leg.   

Though when I moved around him, I found I was unable to leave as he stops me with a hand on my wrist. Demanding grip giving away his desperation even as he masked it with gentle words. “What if you didn’t?”  

I turned my head confused, “But —”  

“What is the worst that could happen?” He pulled me closer again even as he started to step away from the balcony himself. A plan brewing in his eyes.  

“I can’t just leave him,” I pointed out, only receiving an amused smile. “I thought we agreed to be careful —”  

Viktor’s smile widened, “Careful? Where's the fun in that?” He leaned a fraction closer, his breath tickling my ear as he chuckled. The sound wrapping around me like a warm blanket, making me blind with those fuzzy feelings again. “Sometimes it’s those reckless decisions that lead to the most interesting outcomes.” His eyes sparkled, his head bobbing toward the garden behind us, his meaning clear now.  

I bite my lip as I weighed the outcomes of my next words. “Interesting, or hazardous?” I countered, raising an eyebrow, to bide time. 

“Is there a difference?” He tilted his head slightly, regarding me with a playful seriousness that made my heart race. “You can’t deny that the thrill entices you, as much as it does me.”   

“Enticing, yes. Dangerous? Also, yes.”   

He started tugging me toward the garden regardless, slowly stepping toward the stairs with on hand dragging me and the other remembering his cane. “I’d hate to think you’d shy away from a little excitement.”   

“Excitement?” I felt my reservations fall away as I let myself be dragged. The smile on my lips undeniable, the butterflies in my stomach unfamiliar. With one last look back at the party inside, I willingly started to follow Viktor. “Well, I suppose I could manage a little.” 

I couldn’t suppress my excitement as we hurried down the steps, careful not to trip. Of course, we stumbled on a raised stone, eliciting a giggle from me and a soft chuckle from him as he pulled me closer. We continued down the vine-covered stairs until we reached a spot where the wall sheltered us from view. My back pressed against the twisting flora with grass tickling my angles. His hands resting just shy of the opening at the back of my dress, while smiling up at the windows we had hidden from and then down at me. The tension from the balcony lingered, more electrified now that we had stolen this private moment at the risk of our jobs.   

This time, I was ready as Viktor edged closer, maneuvering one of his feet to settle between mine, pushing me firmly against the wall. We melded into the blooming flowers that surrounded us, his nose brushing against mine. Our smiles mirrored each other as our faces inched closer together. He allowed my hands to trace his jaw before his lips brushed mine again. 

This kiss began slower than the ones before, with passion rekindling as he immediately claimed my lips. He wasted no time, yet relished each moment. Sparks crackled between us as his hands roamed the curve of my back and I pulled at his hair again.  

Stealing my breath again, leaving my brain short on oxygen, his lips began to greedily descended to the line of my jaw, trailing to the exposed skin of my throat. Dragging across the taught muscles while the delicate cord restrained him from getting every inch. His hands toyed with the excess fabric cascading down my back, as if contemplating whether to give it a tug for more access.  

I was taken aback by the whimper that slipped from my lips when he chose not to, instead contenting himself with what skin he could suck of my shoulders. He took everything he desired, leaving me breathless while one of his hands curved along my back, drawing me closer to him as the other hand roamed down my dress. He gathered the skirts, his fingers tactfully gliding against my thigh until they reached the juncture of my hip and waist. His head rested against my collarbone, the heavy desire making us drown in each other. His eyes were focused on the way his hands twisted the shimmering fabric as his breath fanned across my chest which rose and fell with anticipation.  

“Viktor,” my voice escaped as a gasp while I clutched his back, feeling my legs twitch as his hands drifted away from the fabric of my dress to my laced folds. He pressed and caressed with a teasing touch, elevating his mouth again to mine to drink my pants. He didn’t take his time like before; there was no slow buildup or gentle movements. He was desperate, and with no one to witness us, he could be as hap-hazardous as he pleased.  

His name slipped from my lips in the form of a soft moan as he pushed into me. My hair began to tangle in the vines, head going back, as he immediately pumping his fingers, starting slowly and gradually picking up to a steady pace. 

 He curled and swiped his fingers with precision, just like he had in the meeting. He instinctively knew when and where to apply pressure—a quick learner. His grin brushing my lips as eyes flickered between mine and my open mouth. I found it difficult to close, each breath becoming more labored as he whispered soothing words into my ear talking me through the start of a building orgasm. He was saying how good I would feel, how sweet I’d taste. His accent doing horribly wicked things, making the release come all that faster.   

“Do you think you could stay silent if I gave you more?” He asked, tilting his wrist and eliciting a deep, drawn-out gasp from me. His thumb circling and pressing the little numb at the top, dragging it down teasingly as he watched my reaction completely engrossed. Cheeks rosy and my eyes fluttering, losing all rationality to the feeling of his fingers stuffed inside me.   

I nodded; my voice edged with desperation. “Yes. Yes, I can be quiet.”  

Only needed my consent, he slowly withdrew his fingers from me. I let out a whimper at the loss, but any anger quickly faded as he brought the digits to his lips. It echoed his actions from the end of the meeting, right before they vanished past his chapped mouth. The teasing sound he made sent a rush of heat from my cheeks down my neck. Unable to talk, only pant as I watched him lower himself into a knee.   

“Your leg,” I tried to stop him as he tried to hide a hiss, only receiving a harsh smack to the hand trying to pull him up.  

“I’m fine,” He bit back, sending a warning look my way.  

His hand slid away from his mouth, gliding up from my ankle to my knee before effortlessly letting it rest on his shoulder. I felt exposed as the chill in the air made my legs tremble, a wave of anxiety settling in my stomach as Viktor's inquisitive gaze roamed over me. Unapologetically, he leaned in closer, tracing his lips along the inside of my thigh. He followed the same path his fingers had taken during the meeting, back to mirroring those precise movements and calculated gestures. His intense focus left me breathless, even before his mouth found my dripping cunt, breathlessness turning into a breathy moan. As the fabric of my skirt fell over his head, his lips and witty tongue began to explore, dragging and molding against me, opening and closing, reacting to every response until he perfected the rhythm.  

Which meant it didn’t take long for another louder moan to escape me, one I quickly stifled by biting down on my bottom lip. Soon to bust it as my hands tried to find a purchase somewhere. One strangling the vines behind my head and the other tangling in his hair as his nose brushed against the nub, a familiar pleasure starting to coil in my stomach. I started shifting my hips restlessly, chasing my release as it started to tickle my edges.  

Finding it hard to keep my lip between my teeth as sounds grew more desperate. The thorns of the vine cutting into my palm as my grip tightened, making him grown as his scalp throbbed. It made my hips raise in surprise and a shameless whorish moan to break past. His following tut draw it out as he held my bucking hips still against his face. Pinning my cunt to his mouth as his tongue moved between the folds— pushing and curling, the movements perfected already. A newfound determination fueled his actions as he pressed his face as close as physically possible, nearly suffocating himself. His grip on my thigh and bone of my hip feeling like it was going to be bruised.  

I chanced looking down, my eyes having fallen closed in this rush of lust. Prying them open I let out shutting gasps as I found him completely lost between my legs. The sight awakening something inside me, no man confident enough to act so desperate. Kneeling beneath me, For me. Hiding like a young boy in his mother’s skits — 

Wrong time to think of — FUCK! He can’t stop. 

“Don’t stop,” I couldn't hold back the longing gasps and soft cries that escaped from the back of my throat, his available fingers glided from my reddening thigh to join his tongue. They quickly synced, accompanying a chuckled at my new pathetic mewling and lust-drunk reactions. My hips giving small tight rolls, fighting against his grip even as it grew skin splittingly tight in an effort to maintain control over. Unable to keep myself from clenching, something he caught with another core rattling chuckle.  

He seemed to be enjoying how the muscles around his face started to twitch and spasm as much as I was enjoying myself. My thighs cutting off his air, much to his happiness as a groan confirmed it and sent my heart into my throat. A warmth starting to pool in my navel as the pulsing began to matched the rise and fall of my chest, hand pulling his head in harder. The band starting to tighten passed the point of no return.   

How was he already making me come. 

“Viktor, I —” He silenced me with a gentle hush, already aware of what I was about to say. I pressed my head into my shoulder, stifling a choked sob as the knot in my stomach grew so tight it became near painful. A shutter coursed through my shoulders, desire igniting my veins with a white-hot intensity as I teetered on the edge of true pleasure. This was a sweetness I had been denied last time, but now I was free to embrace it fully.   

The fall was so much sweeter than the climb as I felt every nerve in my body be lit a flame, hips stuttering as Viktor held my hips down against his mouth with all his strength. Both hands having to shoot up and bruise my skin in order to keep me still, milking my orgasm with just his skilled mouth till I was whimpering for him to stop. My plea faded into breathless whispers as I worked to salivate my dry mouth, feeling as though all the moisture had been drained from my very soul.   

When he finally did stop, I felt like all the air rushed back into my lungs.  

His rough hands smoothed over my hips and thighs, coaxing the tight muscles as he gently lowered my leg from his shoulder. He pulled his head from my skirt, resting his chin against my stomach, his eyes sparkling with amusement as his lower face glistened with my slick in the moonlight. I would have been completely embarrassed if my mind hadn't still been swirling.  

“What?” My voice was soft as I brushed my fingers gently through his hair, trembling slightly with the fear of shattering this sweet moment. “Why are you looking at me like that?”  

“That was absolutely not quiet,” he teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he slowly rose, using my hip and the vines behind me for support. I did my best to ignore the slight grunt from the strain on his leg, learning from last time. 

We caught each other’s gaze, and in that instant, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of us. The moonlight enveloped us in a silver glow, and I couldn’t help but smile at the way the light danced in his hair.   

“We shouldn’t be out here,” I whispered, half-heartedly trying to sound serious, but the flicker of mischief in his eyes told me he was already thinking of a way to push our luck a little further.   

“Just a few moments longer,” he urged softly, brushing his thumb across the middle of my back I nodded, feeling my heart race at the intimacy of it all. It felt exhilarating, sneaking away and making our own wanton little paradise under the starlit sky.  

... Until a metalic clink came from somewhere above us.   

My breath caught in my throat, and I craned with him to look toward the sound. “Was that…?” I started, glancing back at him, but he was already scanning up the stair wall.  

Before we could decide what to do, a voice called out, cutting through our tranquility like a knife. “Hello! Is anyone out here?” My heart sank as I recognized the voice—it was Elora another assistant to the council, wandering into the garden. I glanced at him with wide eyes, and we both shared a fleeting expression of panic. 

 “Time to play it cool?” he suggested, trying to lighten to mood.  

 I couldn’t help but smile, smoothing down my skirts. “Let’s just hope we weren’t missed,” I replied, shaking my head as the moment we had just shared clung to the air between us.   

 “You first,” He smiled at me, giving my hand a gentle squeeze as he nodded up the steps as Elora called out again, threatening to come out to the garden. “Perception and all that.”  

I gave him a thankful grin in return, doing the same with the squeeze. “Sweet,” I complimented as I chanced a small quick kiss, catching him off guard. I didn’t let him recover before I turned to walk away, pulling my hand away last. I saw him give a goofy wave as I ascended the stairs, plastering on a political smile to join Elora on the balcony. “My apologies, I needed air and the Kirammen garden in still breathtaking,” I linked my arms with hers, admiring her lovely blue dress.   

“Oh! We can take a walk if —” I stopped her from turning back to the garden.  

“No!” I said that too loud, drawing her suspicious with a raised brow. “I am fine. I assume Councilwomen Medarda wants to see me?”  

“Yes, your patron has been talking incessantly about your specialty in toxic flora and my mistress was most intrigued by the applications you have found for them medicinally...” Elora’s voice faded into all the others of the party as we emerged from the doors. I sent one long look out to the garden, a new bounce to myself as I joined the group surrounding my Patron.   

“Do try to keep your wits about you. It would be unfortunate if you were to embarrass me,” Hoskel muttered, his voice low but laced with irritation.  Never one to miss a chance. 

I rolled my eyes, “I won’t embarrass you.” I dipped my head lower towards the gorgeous council women to my right, her soft green eyes observing me and liking what she saw. “It's a pleasure to meet you Councilwomen, Elora and my patron speak highly of you.”  

She bowed her head back, eyes flickering to the balcony doors behind me, Viktor walking in finally, a fact unknown to me. “The pleasure is all mine, doctor.” 

(Himerdingers lab at the Acadamy or Hoskels mannor next time? still haven't decided)

Taglist: @freakboycentral • @jollyperfectiontimemachine • @ac1d-0 • @chaoticevolution • @that-gingernut-girly • @im-just-a-simp-le-whore • @shortbreadbunny • @circeinspace • @miju69

[dixons-sunshine]

I’m sorry I’m being so annoying but I check your blog everyday to see if you posted the spicy/panic fic, do you think you will? Or have you already and I’m blind??

Sorry I’m just looking forward to it.

I hope you’re having a great Xmas angel

Not To Blame | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Talks of bondage and panic attacks.

A/N: I’m so sorry for the wait, anon! I completely forgot to post it. Now this only references what happened because I had a hard time writing the actual spicy part that lead up to everything, but I hope this is still somewhat okay!

It all happened so fast.

One moment, you’re straddling Daryl’s lap, tongue-deep in his mouth, grinding your hips against his like your life depended on it. The next moment, you could clearly sense your partner’s distress, his breathing turning shallow and sounding choked up, his body tensing and his chest rising and falling in an unsteady rhythm. Although you could have easily mistaken it as pleasure, you knew the archer, and you knew that he was in the midst of a panic attack.

Everything frisky ended the moment you had realized that. You had clambered off of him, and untied the ropes binding him to the headboard of the bed—the bindings being the sole reason that the love of your life had trouble breathing and he had tears in his eyes.

You sighed as you walked from the kitchen and back to the bedroom, a glass of water in your hand. You felt terrible about what happened. It had been your suggestion to try bondage in the first place. Although Daryl had seemed rather intrigued by the idea, you should have known better. Daryl had so many bad memories linked with being tied up. You should have known that something like this would happen.

Stepping into your shared bedroom and closing the door behind you, you sent a small, tentative smile towards Daryl. The man in question was sitting up in the bed, his eyes still a little blood shot from the tears he had shed earlier when you had helped calm him down. When he saw you, he offered up a weak smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I have your water,” you began softly, slowly making your way over to him. You handed him the glass of the cool liquid and sat down next to him on the bed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and rubbing soothing circles on his flesh with your thumb. “Do you need anything else?”

Daryl took a sip from the glass, before pursing his lips and shaking his head. “Nah,” he replied, his voice shaky and a tad bit gruffer than normal. “M’alright.”

You frowned slightly. “You sure?” There was a few beats of silence after the crossbow-wielding archer nodded, before you spoke up again. “I’m so sorry, Dar.”

It was Daryl’s turn to frown. “Why’re you sorry? You didn’t do nothin’.”

You shook your head in denial. “I’m sorry for placing you in that awful position. I should have known better.” Daryl opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off. “Don’t try to downplay what happened and say that it was nothing to spare my feelings. I’m not looking for pity. I just want you to know that I’m sorry about what happened, okay? And I don’t want you to try and make me feel better. Let me take care of you for a change, okay?”

A genuine smile spread across Daryl’s face this time. He nodded and placed the glass down on the nightstand. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, placing his large hand on your thigh. “But I dun’ want’cha to blame yourself, alright? I know what I was gettin’ myself into when you suggested we try bondage. S’not your fault. S’all trial and error, and now we know s’not somethin’ m’into.”

“I guess so, but I definitely would have preferred never trying it in the first place than having you go through that,” you told him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Me too.” A good minute of silence passed, before you lifted your head and stood up, much to Daryl’s chagrin. “What’re ya doin’?” he inquired, his ocean-coloured eyes following your figure as you stalked towards the bathroom.

He soon got his answer when he heard the shower start running. A few seconds later, you walked out of the bathroom and towards him, took his hands in yours, tugged him up from the bed and lead him into the already steam filled room.

“Let me take care of you. You said I could. Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed,” you reminded him, gently beginning to fiddle with the buttons on his sleeveless shirt. “And no further funny business tonight.”

Daryl smiled, and allowed you to help him out of his shirt, his heart swelling with love for you. “Yes, ma’am.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Days of Yore

Warnings: some dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: You show up uninvited but are welcomed nonetheless.

Character: Geralt of Rivia

Day Twenty-Five of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt -an unexpected guest at the holiday get together.

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Wow,” you gape up at the immaculate array of lights strung across the facade. “This place is amazing. Who’s house is this?” 

“A friend of a friend’s, I don’t know,” Wendy shrugs. 

“A friend... Oh? Are you sure it’s okay we’re here?” You wonder with a furrow between your brows. You now feel a bit foolish for getting all done up when you might not even have been invited. 

“Open invite! Besides, no one will notice,” she assures you. 

“Right,” you mutter doubtfully. 

“Loosen up. What else do you got going on, huh?” She grabs your hand and pulls you through the open iron gates. They accentuate the medieval effect of the house. Now you don’t feel done up enough. 

“Not much, I guess,” you admit. If anything, you’ll get a bit of free food then ditch. It's not the first time you’ve unintentionally party-crashed with your wayward friend. 

“You know Sienna, it will be fine,” she tuts and comes up to the front doors.  

Again, you’re awed by the aesthetic of it all. You notice that the lights aren’t coloured, but only white, and the decor doesn’t bear the typical Santa or candy cane theme. In fact, it all has a historic tint. Traditional in a strange way. Dried oranges hung on long strings and holly twisted into bunches. For a moment, you’re remind of that dusty history degree hidden in the back of your closet. 

Wendy knocks with the heavy iron knocker. She waits and chatters as she wiggles her legs below her short skirt. She didn’t dress for the temperature. She searches the door frame and grumbles. 

“You think someone who could afford this place would have a doorcam or something,” she chuffs out a cloud of steam. 

The door opens and startles you both. You look over as Wendy as good as jumps inside. She seizes the woman who keeps a hand on the door. 

“Kami! You look... nice,” she holds her and gives her an eye up and down, “is this velvet?” She drags her hands down the green fabric. 

“Designer,” Kami pushes away her touch. “You brought a friend.” 

“Yeah, Sienna said so--” 

“Mm, sure, it’s just... whatever. No one will notice,” Kami rolls her eyes. “You have to come. Lucas has the funniest story! I was just dying.” 

Your shoulders fall and you clasp your hands together. You trail after, unwelcome and unacknowledged. Uninvited. You frown and silently configure how you can excuse yourself and leave. If you wait long enough, Wendy will forget about you. It might be easier to sneak out. 

You stop to hang your coat with all the rest and Kami makes a point of telling you to take your boots off. The floors are old wood, polished and well-kept. The entire house is immaculate. An antique on its own. 

You follow them into a high-ceilinged room adorned in strings of threaded popcorn and dried clusters of flowers. The air is fragrant as mulled cider steams in a heated bowl on a table, copper cups waiting to be filled, and dishes of appetizers in a line. The smell makes your stomach churn hungrily. 

“Who the hell owns this place?” Wendy asks the question nibbling on your ears. 

“Oh, he’s a funny guy,” Kami chuckles. “A bit... eccentric. Sienna’s been trying to loosen him up a bit, I mean... look at this house. That’s a good bag.” 

You try not to show your disapproval. You don’t have much luck with men but hearing the way some of your friends talk about them, you don’t know that you’re cut out for it all. It really doesn’t seem that anyone is out for a genuine connection, they just want a good set-up.

Can you really blame them? You’ve been handwashing your clothes since your building hiked up the machine prices. Turns out a couple quarters can really break the bank. 

Your guilt compounds as you realise that you’ve cosigned this entire extortionate affair. This party seems to have been a ploy by a hopeful prize winner. You know Sienna and she’s always sure to show you her Fenti and point out the label, though she can never remember the name of the man who bought it. 

“So what? He gave her full run to do all this? It's not really her... style. I expected more pink,” Wendy scoffs. 

“Nope, he’s a tight ass apparently. They were up for nights making the decorations and the food.” 

“What?” She squeals in surprises as your whispers from your mouth. That’s a lot of work. 

“Very old-fashioned,” Kami remarks. “But he’s not just rich you know, he’s fucking hot.” 

“Ah, jackpot,” Wendy giggles. 

You keep behind them, as good as hiding behind them. You bob and clutch your purse as Lucas excitedly hugs Wendy and Sienna drunkenly echoes him. You know a few of the partygoers standing with them but none of them even look in your direction. It seems Wendy’s already forgotten you. 

This is why you said no at first. This is how it always goes but she begged and begged, guilting you fro making her show up alone. What about you? Why is it okay to ditch you every time? 

You glance around. There are just as many strangers and none of them seem eager to mingle past their trio or pairing. You wish Wendy mentioned the dress code. You don’t think your H&M clearance rack attire is very suiting. 

As an elbow hits your arm, you back up. No apology. You’re a piece of decor to these people. You back up and turn. Well, no one else seems to want to indulge. What a weird party. 

You go to the table and take a cup. It’s times like these that you enjoy being invisible. College was tough, you longed to be noticed, to be like the other girls. Since then, you’ve grown comfortable with just being there. It’s much safer. 

You ladle the cider into a mug and the steam roils from the top. A slice of blood orange and a few cranberries float in the rich amber liquid. You blow over it and retreat. The warmth is a comfort. It makes you feel a little less out-of-place. 

As you turn, you nearly collide with another. You bring your other hand up to steady the cup and barely keep from sloshing the cider all over. You squeak and step back on your heel, your eyes skimming up the large figure in front of you.  

You haven’t seen eyes like those since... 

“Geralt?” You utter dumbly. 

He looks down at you. He looks different but not. He always had his own vibe. The white hair, the bright eyes, he wore his individuality without meaning too. Yet some things are his own doing. 

When you were in Early Modern History or Medieval Weaponry and Warfare together, he always dressed as if the clocks were set back to the Victorian era. Stiff jackets, high collared shirts, even a pocket watch. He was a bit of a dweeb then but too big for anyone to say so. And he was the only person who wanted to talk about history outside the lectures. 

Now he wears a tunic, silver trim on black, slightly less stuffy but just as dated. Half of his hair is twisted back behind his head, the tails of it spilling past his shoulders. 

He says your name and tilts his head, “I didn’t invite you.” 

It’s a statement that makes your heart sink. You peer down at your cup then around the room. “I’m sorry, my friend, she knows Sienna, she--” 

“It’s good to see you,” he interrupts. “It’s been a very long time.” 

You wince and dare to look at him again. “Yes, college was a while ago.” You slanted your lips and press your hands to the hot metal cup. “This is your house? It’s very nice.” 

“It is. I don’t often entertain, so mind the cobwebs,” he intones. He still has that way of speaking; so matter-of-fact. “It wasn’t my idea.” 

“Mm, right,” you nod. 

“Is the cider good? I found the recipe in an old journal from 1764.” 

“Of course you did,” you hold back a laugh. 

“Of course...” he begins to repeat curiously. 

“It’s all very you, is all,” you say. 

“I suppose,” he agrees. 

You smile shakily and swallow. You make yourself try the cider. It’s hot but not scalding. A very spiced. Not in a bad way, you just don’t expect that much. 

“Mm, it’s... heady.” 

“Mulled for days,” he explains. He shifts on his feet and smooths his tunic. “Can I show you something?” 

“Um, sure,” you accept. “It’s not the door, is it?” 

He lets out a small snort, “leave the cider.” 

You peer around and he takes the cup from you. He puts it down on a leather coaster on a tall wooden table and beckons you after him. You peek back as you sense a hush and notice that Sienna and the rest of them are watching. Great, they already don’t care much for you. 

Geralt stops and waits for you to catch up to him. The staircase is wide enough for both of you. Your ascent is quiet, almost torturously so. 

“You did not bring a boyfriend?” He asks. 

You nearly laugh at the abrupt question. You get to the top of the stairs and he gestures you left. 

“Well, I’d bring my cat. He’s the only guy sleeping in my bed,” you kid. 

He hums but doesn’t comment. 

“So, how’d you meet Sienna?” You ask. 

He shrugs and stops to open a door. He pushes it inward and reaches around the frame to turn on the lights. He waits for you to enter first. You do with a gasp at the interior. 

The walls are hung with various weaponry and you can tell at a glance that it’s genuine. It’s like walking into a museum. You traipse forward as you stare and barely notice the door click shut. 

“Wow, how—Geralt, how the heck—what do you do? I mean, how can you afford all this?” 

“I make replicas for TV and stage productions,” he explains. “This is my personal collection.” 

“It’s... wow,” you hug yourself, feeling even smaller than before. 

He’s quiet again. That’s just how he’s always been. He never said more than he needed to. It made studying very easy. 

“You asked about Sienna. She is persistent but we are older now. I don’t see her as viable,” he says. Again, just a fact, nothing emotional. 

“Oh, uh, well, I heard otherwise. Maybe you should tell her that,” you chuckle nervously as you admire the executioner’s sword with its blunt tip. 

“Perhaps,” he agrees as he slowly crosses the room to stand next to you. “I’m... pleased that you showed up. It is a coincidence, isn’t it?” 

“Sure, must be,” you agree. 

You keep your eyes on the groove in the blade as you feel his on you. You sidle along and turn your head away from him. The door is shut. He stays close. 

“Here,” he steps around you, startling you. 

You spin as he goes to a large wooden chest on a table. “The smaller things are in here. Thumb screws, some daggers...” he flips open the lid as you turn and follow, keeping your distance. He holds up a curved blade, possibly a jambiya. “Hm, come,” he waves you around as he reaches in again, “you’ll like this one.” 

You sway before you move, hands clasped to each other. You slowly pace around to him and he moves so quickly you nearly stagger. In a moment, there’s a weight around your wrists. You cry out and raise your manacled arms. 

“Geralt!” You exclaim. 

He laughs. You don’t hear that often. You look at him and tug on the chain. 

“Centuries old but they are strong still, yes?” 

You frown, “please, it’s not funny. I don’t like it.” 

“Aren’t they wonderful?” 

“No, Geralt, please, take them off.” 

“Hm, I’d have to find the key...” 

“Don’t play,” you warn. 

His laughter trickles off and his face returns to its stoic mask. He stares at you. Silence rises and roils around you as the chain clinks in the loops of the cuffs and you fidget. You wait for him to pull out the key and undo them. 

Instead, he hooks a thick finger around the links and tugs until your arms are above you. He holds you like that, trapped and prone. You shudder as you stare up at him, terrified at the glint in his pale eyes. 

“I’m not playing,” he intones. “I’ve been waiting to get you in those. Far too long.” 

[bellesmadeofsilk]

What to wear M.M x FEM! reader

Overture- Matt's worried about meeting your parents

CWs- Mentions of bruises, not being perceived as good enough, one joke about stripping and not a whole lot else

A/N- oops it's kind of late but Merry Christmas if you celebrate it, and happy chanukah if you celebrate that. And have a nice Wednesday otherwise. Also the divider is courtesy of @anitalenia

You’d never seen Matt this worried before. You’d seen him have nerves before court, or even genuine fear over some of the things happening in his city– but they were always overpowered by his endless resolve. You’d listen to him talk through his problems, through opening statements, and lines of questioning– and at the end of the day he’d feel a lot better. But tonight he was spiraling a little bit and no amount of nervous pacing was helping him. 

He had three near-identical suits laying on his bed, and was pacing from the bedroom to his living room where you sat on the couch. It started with him trying to decide on his clothes for tomorrow and had become– this. 

“What if they don’t like me?” You really tried not to laugh at him— like your parents wouldn’t like the nice guy with perfect manners and a stable career. 

“Matt, they’ll love you– it’ll be a great day tomorrow. I’m cooking, you’re going to be so wonderfully charming, and my parents have never even been to New York before– you’ve got the home field advantage.”

“What if they see one of my bruises– or my scars? I don’t want them to think I’m violent.” Currently his bruises were confined to his upper arm, chest, and back— no one would see them.

“Well then I guess you can’t strip at dinner.” It wasn’t especially often that you could tease Matt, but he was being more than a little ridiculous– no one would guess that your blind boyfriend got a bruise because he was fighting someone on a random rooftop at one in the morning. You laugh a little bit as you put your hands on his shoulders, stopping his pacing. He allowed you to give him a peck on the lips, even though he was still antsy. When you pulled away, he put his hand over yours, still on his shoulder. 

“I’m serious. They’re going to think I’m not good enough for you.” 

“Oh Matt– they’d never say that.”

“But it’s true. I’m not good enough for you.”

“Matt– I think you are wonderful, smart, and sweet, and my parents are going to think you’re great– I’m sure of it.” He could hear your heartbeat. He knew you were telling the truth. But you could think that they’d like him all you want, it wouldn’t change the fact that they might not. And much to your dismay he could only sigh in response, looking down at you. 

“Matt, I'm serious. At the very least, they’ll think you’re a polite young man with a stable job and a nice suit.” That got a laugh out of him— it was self conscious, but an improvement over the frown he had before. 

“Well that’s good at least. Something in my favor.” 

“And Matt? Just for the record it doesn’t matter to me whether or not they like you. I love you, and they love me, and nothing is going to change that.” You’d never said that to him before. Not out loud at least— you’d thought it, and when you knew he was far enough that even he couldn’t hear you, you’d practiced saying it. But he’d never heard you say it before. 

“You love me?”

“Obviously— I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re pretty fantastic.”

“And you’re sweet. And I love you too.” He kissed your forehead and pulled you into a hug, your face buried in his chest. 

“So you’ll be ok tomorrow?” He just gave a contented sigh and pulled you even tighter to him, inadvertently squishing your face. 

“As long as you’re there, I’ll be fine I think.” You squirmed away from his hold just enough to press a light kiss to his jaw, then to his lips. You could physically feel him smile, and then feel that smile fade a little bit when he started talking again. 

“But seriously, which suit do you think?”

[margeoww]

Let me be honest here, ‘After All This Time’ should be a series or at least mini series and I’m ready to drop a kidney for it.

PLEASE MAKE IT A SERIES! 😭 Also, love your writing! 🫶🏽

After All This Time

back to my main masterlist.

toto wolff masterlist

Chapter 2

pairing: toto wolff x exwife!reader

summary: Toto reflects on the highs and lows of his 20-year marriage after seeing his ex-wife for the first time in four years. Memories of love, loss, and mistakes resurface, leaving him questioning if reconciliation is still possible.

warnings: themes of emotional conflict, mentions of divorce and strained relationships.

The echoes of their reunion at the gala lingered in Toto’s mind. Sleep had evaded him as the brief conversation played on repeat, unearthing emotions he thought were buried. Seated alone in his office, surrounded by the glow of the city lights, memories flooded back, raw and unrelenting.

The First Meeting

Their story began at a charity event in Vienna. Toto was a young, ambitious entrepreneur, accustomed to being the center of attention. She, on the other hand, was an anomaly in a room of predictable faces. Her laughter, genuine and unguarded, drew him in.

—Do you always observe people as if you’re calculating your next move in chess? —she asked, her smile disarming his ego. Toto was speechless, a rare occurrence.

—Only when someone interesting appears —he replied eventually, and that was the start of everything.

The Early Years

The early days were an adventure. She celebrated his ambition, becoming his anchor amidst the chaos. She was his biggest supporter and his sharpest critic, keeping him grounded while pushing him forward.

They spent evenings walking through Vienna, laughing as though they were the only ones in the world. Their life together was filled with simple yet unforgettable moments—cooking together, debating over who cut vegetables better, or mornings when Toto lingered in bed just to hear her hum while making coffee.

But success came at a price. Formula 1 consumed Toto, demanding every ounce of his time and energy. Promises of quality time were replaced by meetings, races, and endless travel.

—It’s not just that you work too much —she said one night after yet another canceled dinner. —It’s that I don’t know where I stand in your life anymore.

That conversation marked the beginning of the end.

The Anniversary That Changed Everything

The most painful memory was their 20th anniversary. Toto arranged an extravagant dinner, hoping to rekindle what had been lost. But the tension between them was undeniable.

—Do you really think a dinner can fix years of distance? —she asked, her voice heavy with sadness.

That night ended in silence, and Toto realized it wasn’t just about time or work. It was about connection—a connection that had slowly eroded despite the love that still existed.

The Divorce

The separation was agonizing but inevitable. Though neither said it aloud, they both knew the love remained. But sometimes, love alone isn’t enough.

Their last meeting was in the lawyer’s office, signing the divorce papers. —Take care of yourself, Toto —she said before walking out. Those words, filled with affection and finality, haunted him for years.

Back to the Present

Toto exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. Four years had passed since that day, years spent burying himself in work and pretending he was fine.

But now, after seeing her at the gala, the past felt alive again. The way she looked at him—with surprise, nostalgia, and something he couldn’t quite decipher—left him restless.

Could he fix what had been broken? Or was it far too late?

As rain pattered against the window, Toto allowed himself a thought he had avoided for years: hope.

Okey okey, this is my first mini series, and Im so happy for all the support that you guys are giving to me. Thank you thank you. Hope u like it. ❤️‼️

[prettygirl-gabi]

Mistletoe Mischief

Rating: PG 13

Warning: Slight suggestive

Paring: Chris Sturniolo x !soft reader

Fandom: Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Christmas stream with Chris and a new belly ring for the holidays of course...

Merry Christmas everyone I hope you enjoy! Here you go my Chris girlies and @gamerchrissgf

Chris was mid-sentence during the Christmas-themed live stream with Nick and Matt, his hands animatedly waving as he defended his favorite Christmas movie. I stood just out of frame, watching the chaos unfold, a sly grin tugging at my lips.

I had to pick my moment carefully.

“Bro, you’re actually insane if you think Elf isn’t top-tier,” Chris argued, shooting a glare at Nick.

“It’s mid!” Nick fired back, smirking.

Matt, ever the referee, shook his head. “We’re not doing this again.”

Perfect. They were distracted. I stepped closer, just enough so Chris could see me but not the camera. His eyes flicked to mine, and I saw him pause, his mouth half-open.

I lifted the edge of my sweater slightly to reveal the tiny mistletoe charm dangling from my new belly ring. “Cute, right?” I mouthed, smirking.

Chris’s face turned a shade of red I’d never seen before. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand and turned away from the camera, coughing to cover up his reaction.

“Yo, you good?” Matt asked, raising a brow.

“Yeah, yeah,” Chris mumbled, waving him off.

Nick wasn’t buying it. “Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?”

“I didn’t!” Chris snapped, his voice cracking slightly.

I stifled a laugh and mouthed, “Kiss me under the mistletoe.”

Chris’s eyes widened, and he shook his head subtly, mouthing back, “Not now!”

“Chris, are you okay?” Matt asked again, this time looking genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine!” Chris said quickly, his voice rising an octave. “Let’s just move on, okay?”

After a few more minutes of awkwardly dodging the guys’ questions, the stream finally ended. As soon as the camera was off, Chris practically jumped out of his chair, marching toward me.

“You’re evil,” he said, his face still flushed.

I shrugged innocently. “I just thought you’d appreciate the festive spirit.”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You know they’re gonna rewind that and analyze every second of my reaction, right?”

“Worth it,” I teased, taking a step closer. “So… are you gonna kiss me under the mistletoe or not?”

Chris sighed, a small smile breaking through his faux frustration. “You’re lucky I like you,” he muttered, leaning in to press a soft, quick kiss to my lips.

When he pulled back, his eyes softened, his hands resting on my hips. “That belly ring’s cute, by the way.”

“Thanks,” I said, grinning. “But you’re cuter when you’re flustered.”

Chris groaned again, but this time he was smiling. Later that night, as we cuddled on the couch, his hand lazily resting on my waist, he murmured, “I’m still mad at you for doing that during the stream.”

“No, you’re not,” I replied, poking his cheek.

“Okay, maybe not,” he admitted, pulling me closer. “But don’t test me again. Nick and Matt will never let me live it down.”

I just laughed, knowing full well I’d probably do it again.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[princess-of-songs]

Happy 8 months of Challengers!!! Justin Kuritzkes interview with Al Horner

Shout out to Al, for asking great

questions!!! I thought this was a great interview.

Some of my favorite highlights from the interview:

AH: There’s a reading of this film and Tashi’s arc in particular that kind of like explores the idea, I suppose that like Tashi’s sense of injustice at what was taken from her as this tennis starlet who very much anticipated living one type of life is that like she has this kind of obsession with tennis and winning. She’s trying to vicariously live through Art, but it’s never going to fully satisfy her. And it leads to this, particular love triangle in which, well, the read online is “Patrick loves Art, Art loves Tashi, but Tashi is kind of incapable of loving either because she just loves winning so much, to the point it’s such a point of obsession.” I don’t know if I quite agree with it because like, I do think there’s genuine love for both parties there. But I’m curious what your take is or how you thought of the character as you approached her on the page.

JK: Yeah, I don’t think anybody is that simple, and I don’t think anybody ever wants one thing. I think it, it would be very tidy and very neat to say this one really wants -“He really wants her. She really wants him. All of that.” That I think is kind of like that’s just not as interesting to me as what I feel like is the truth about them, which is that they all want conflicting things. And you know, I think what’s frustrating for Tashi about these two guys is that in a way, I always thought of her as somebody who’s really hungry to be seen fully and to be understood fully and met as she is. Patrick and Art both see parts of her and are both in love with different parts of her. But neither one is in love with the whole thing. Neither one can accept the whole thing. And she is in love with parts of each of these guys, but can’t love the whole thing because they’re deficient in some way. And in a way that demand makes is her deficiency. You know, that sort of stubbornness is her deficiency, but also how could she demand less? She has too much respect for herself. So I think that then gets reflected in the way they all play tennis. Patrick plays in this very wild, naturally gifted, sort of explosive, athletic way. Art plays in this well mannered, studied by the book, disciplined way. But Tashi before her injury, had both. And that’s how you become a great tennis player. There’s a great essay by David Foster Wallace about Roger Federer. He talks about how there was a moment when tennis moved from being classical music to Metallica and that there was a sort of trend around the time that Federer became ascendant of power baseliners, like Nadal, for the most part, that his game is a lot of just power from the baseline. And of course, Nadal does a lot of other stuff very well, but that’s the predominant mode of his tennis, right? This overpowering of the opponent. It’s a very muscular sort of tennis. And what David Foster Wallace says about Federer is that he somehow managed to play classical music and Metallica at the same time. To watch that is liking meeting God. To watch that in person is like a religious experience. And so that was very much what I was thinking about when I was thinking about just how good Tashi is.

AH: There’s a crucial moment later on in the movie where Tashi secretly meets up with Patrick to ask him throw the upcoming match he has against Art and she’s doing this out of love for Art. She wants to boost his ego and arguably their marriage is on the line. It’s tied up in this game. She and Patrick have this explosive argument that leads to them having sex inside his car. And again, in terms of the ambiguity in this film, purposeful ambiguity, there is some debate as to how much of that was premeditated, how much of it was transactional almost, and I’m curious on how you approached all this on the page. Were you kind of aware or were you letting the characters dictate you on what they were doing or what was your read on the granular details of what everyone is doing in that scene?

JK: Well, I think, again, sometimes people are doing things for more reasons than they know, and sometimes people are not on top of their own motivations. And that’s a very exciting place for a character to be because there’s a tension between what a character is saying and what their body is doing. A character is revealing themselves in ways they’re not intending. And I was just as surprised by all of that as I was writing it, as I think people watching it probably are. That was really at that point in the movie, I was trusting the characters to go where they wanted to go. So, yeah, I think I like that you said that she is doing it some respect out of love for Art. Because I do think there is a real part of Tashi that is genuinely trying to make this marriage work for her. And she knows herself well enough to know that if he gives up right now, if she has to watch him completely give up on his career and on his potential and resign himself to being done before he’s forced to by time for instance, that she will not be able to love him. She won’t be able to be there for that. So there’s that. There’s also the fact that Art is the person through whom Tashi has been playing tennis for 10 years or however long it’s been. And so she knows that the moment that Art’s tennis career is over, that’s the end of her tennis career, and she’s not ready to give that up. So she needs that. And at the same time, she probably really, there’s a part of her that really wants to see Patrick and really wants to get into that car, and she wants to jolt Patrick out of his slump and out of his self pity and out of his bullshit. So I’m not sure she knows at the moment that what she’s really after is what ends up happening at the end of the movie, where everybody’s cards are out on the table and they’re all pushing each other to in some ways be the best selves and in some ways be their most naked selves. I don’t know if she’s got enough of a handle on the situation to have a fully planned to that’s where she’s trying to lead everything. But I think she’s got a lot of different competing stories that she’s telling herself about why she’s in the car.

And Patrick is the kind of guy that goes, you do want to fuck me, you’re here because you want to fuck me and you’re so full of shit, you won’t admit it to yourself. And that says everything about why she feels the way she does about Patrick, both good and bad.

Tashi has easily become one of my favorite characters and it’s nice to hear when your interpretations are similar to the writer and actress’s interpretations. It feels like I’m not just spitballing lol.

Justin also talked about how the signal was something that was always there and he was writing towards it. Also shoutout to pega on Ao3, Justin said if Art wasn’t playing tennis, he’d be in medical school. You cooked on that one. He also talked Luca mentioning the corners of the love triangle literally touching and how important it was to include a scene where all 3 of them have a moment of togetherness and it being a major thing that the 3 of them are trying to get that feeling back again.

[crazylittlejester]

Hi hello do you have anything about how Twi nearly died in your modern au? Like, what happened and how Time reacted and stuff- (free invitation to yap /gen)

hi hello yes i do!! (tw for talk of suicide attempts and sh)

it was an attempt when he was 15, and the only reason he’s still alive is because he kinda snapped out of it after a second and realized he didn’t actually want to be dead (if he hadn’t told anyone he would have died in his room). Time was the only person home with him, so Twi had to go tell him 1. What he did and 2. That he’d already panic called emergency services because he was freaking out and didn’t know what to do and the ranch is decently far away from everything else. Time had had absolutely NO idea Twilight was struggling like that or that he was so unhappy he’d make an attempt on his life and he was so so terrified he was actually going to lose his kid that day, he could hardly speak he was that scared (and unfortunately Twi was a little worried that Time was MAD at him because of his silence). He drove Twi to the emergency room himself, he knew he’d get there faster and he was genuinely worried Twi didn’t have a whole lot of time to wait around for an ambulance

That was the first and only time Twilight has ever seen his dad cry, at first it was just silent tears but the second Time had called Malon to explain what was going on he broke down sobbing and Twilight is genuinely so scarred from just THAT that it’s been one of the things that’s helped him stop hurting himself; he doesn’t ever want to see his dad cry again. he never wants to be the reason his dad cries, he felt so so bad about that he had a whole mental breakdown over it

He’d been struggling with hurting himself since he was thirteen and he’s been struggling with depression and anxiety for as long as he’s been alive, he’d just get so stressed and overwhelmed he’d spiral and then he felt ashamed for being unhappy because he didn’t feel like he had a valid reason to be depressed because he had a wonderful home life and loving family, and he didn’t want them to blame themselves so he didn’t tell them. and then sophomore year of high school it just reached a point where he attempted to end his life and then the fear and anxiety kicked in and he had to tell his dad about EVERYTHING. there was a lot of crying that day, from him AND Time, but Time made sure to make Twilight feel like he wasn’t suddenly going to be treated like he was made of glass or like he was just completely unstable. Time assured him that he wasn’t angry with him and promised to do anything possible to help Twi because he loves him, he made that very very clear

Time and Malon have done their absolute best to support him, they listen to whatever he has to say and they do whatever they can to help him. They got him therapy (which was so so helpful for him) and Twi still sees a therapist, plus he’s on antidepressants which have also helped a lot. Warriors and Sky have also been nothing but supportive and patient, they’ve been friends with him since freshman year and they were pretty close by the time this happened and they were really worried about their friend but were very glad to see him start to do better

Twilight is doing very well now, he’s been sh free for six years. tho he still has bad days or days he gets urges to hurt himself again and its difficult for him to verbally ask for help but everyone in his life has figured out what it means when he silently comes to just sit by them. They know not to ask questions and to just treat him normally, or give him a hug if he initiates it, and they’ll do anything they can to help him. The tattoos on his left arm cover up a LOT of scars, they don’t cover all of em, they’re not really meant to completely cover them but they do make them a lot less visible

He really is doing better now, but ofc Time is always going to worry about him. Time’s been worrying about him since he GOT him and it just got worse when 9 year old Twi cracked his head open hopping off a horse

the most recent fic for the au is about twi having one of his bad days, ft Warriors wriggling his way into Twi’s bed to be both a comfort and a nuisance (he does a lot to help akskdjd):

[yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy]

These are good points. The problem is that DATV doesn’t do what Dragon Age SHOULD do, which is explore and really get into the guts of a principal character’s motivations and change in perspective. Let’s say that Solas expanding his desire to help all elves rather than just ancient elves was a change he made to his plans during the time skip. Bioware I REALLY WOULD’VE LOVED TO SEE THAT SHIT?!!! I would love to see and explore why he came to that conclusion? Did he interact more with modern elves and grew to include them in his plans? When did this change of heart come about, because when we last left him, only Lavellan was special enough to be considered real. A huge problem with the game is that unlike in previous games entries, you’re not given the opportunity to just ask tons of questions and get to know major NPCs thoughts and feelings on things. If such a thing was implemented, we could’ve gotten, at the very least, a tailored version of Solas’s perspective on his plans and intentions. He’s a cagey man but he also likes to inform and convince and persuade as a Wisdom spirit. Unfortunately, because the game forces you to diametrically oppose Solas no matter what, you’re not granted this opportunity to interrogate him at length because gasp, we might be persuaded to let him tear down the Veil, or agree the veil should fall in some way. Bioware decided for you that the Veil should stay up, decided that there is no other solution to this issue, no other means of maybe returning magic and spirits to the world. Just one or the other. Lame. Laaaaame.

The game’s story so shoddily constructed, the themes and issues so poorly explored, that even when certain things could be taken as “off screen character development” (i.e. once again, Solas doing this for all elves, using spirits to minimize damage), I can’t trust it because how do I know that it’s intentional and not the writers abandoning the plot threads and characterization left off from Trespasser DLC. I genuinely can’t grant them the benefit of the doubt that this is character development for Solas and not goalpost shifting of his priorities because so many other things in DATV are mishandled. I don’t want to pick at my charred steak to look for unburnt bits, I want a new, properly prepared steak. 😭

And again, there should be a way to take it down peacefully. It’s magic. Figure it out, Solas. Do some weird shit. Get the Avvar to help you or whatever.

I guarantee if the entire crew of the original Bioware writers had been in the room they’d let you tear down the Veil. They’d actually have the balls to go there.

And of course I am extremely opposed to indeterminable innocent loss of life if I’m not given numbers. I need numbers. I need to know if there is anything that people can do to protect themselves or increase their chances of survival. I need to know what the loss rate will be.

Solas said there will be death, but that flowers will grow again. Brother, these are not flowers. This is not something you can poetically analogize. You’re emotionally distancing yourself from the fact you are calling for the deaths of thousands, and you (and the writers) are not giving me numbers. I need numbers. Is this a Black Plague level of devastation? Is this 1 out of 20 people? 1 out of 100? A Thanos snap? Virtually everyone but elves? *shakes Solas* answer me you stupid bastard

It itches my brain, fam, because I can *see* all the perspectives and philosophies. If he leaves well enough alone, he is forsaking the ancient elves and condemning their society to utter extinction. He has the ability to fix things (supposedly) and simply accepting things as they are is like getting away with murder with a “sorry”. But if he does try to change things, he is condemning an entire world to death. He is trying to wrench the past into the present, trying to resurrect an empire. Even though he hates imperialism and empires, that’s what he’s doing.. He is trying to replace those alive *now* with those whose existences are *potential*. He’s trying to bring back people who lived during a time of great splendor and eminence. In essence, Solas wants the ancient elves to *replace* those who are presently living. He doesn’t get into what this means for humans or qunari or dwarves (the latter existed during ancient elvhenan). Can we be sure that the ancient elves would resist exerting superiority/supremacy over the remaining living people? Can we?

As far as I understand. I still don’t understand what he means by bringing back the Ancient Elves. If he means that there are ancient elves in comas he wants to resurrect or souls stuck in the Fade he wants to give bodies? Or he means the few elves like Abelas that are still alive that he wants to return their pre-Veil powers to. IT’S REALLY UNCLEAR.

The reason WHY I am so furtive about the Veil is because so many important details are left unknown. In a conversation you have with him in DAI on the balcony, he tells you to your face you flout the categories he has created for the different races, and this is him as Wisdom-Pride given mortal form. I cannot shake the nagging worry that the Ancient Elves, if they were to return, wouldn’t reassume a collective sense of racial superiority over the surviving living races. If they truly get their resurrected empire off the ground, I can 100% see them marginalizing the modern elves, dwarves, humans, and qunari. Everyone would be “separate but equal”, and not even Solas with his good intentions and “philosopher king” pursuit of freedom would be able to prevent it. If the ancient elves were to get their shit together, some form of organization would need to be arranged, and like Elgar’nan, it could lead to a consolidation of power that recreates oppressive hierarchal structures. Solas would probably take up the mantle, reluctantly, but for all of his desire that rulers cede power when they are no longer needed, he would have to remain a ruler if only to prevent war lords and ambitious ancient elves from pulling another elgar’nan. He would either need to become the thing he detests, watch the ancient elves make the same mistake as before, or watch the ancient elves wither away and die before their society ever had a chance to see its true birth. Just because the ancient elves were slaves and freemen who suffered under the tyranny of the Evanuris doesn’t mean that their suffering will make them nobler or more insightful and more sensitive to the harm they could inflict on the survivors of the apocalypse. Because it would be an apocalypse.

But again I need details on how Solas’s plans allow the ancient elves to come back and exactly how many people will die if they were to go off without a hitch. We talking 25%? 50%? 75%? 80%?

I want to live in a world where it is possible for there to be a Legend of Korra style Harmonic Convergence where spirits and people can mish mash together with minimal death and bloodshed. Where the hell is that option. Yes it’s very neat and tidy and “happily ever after” but I don’t care, make it one of the most difficult and intricate world states that you need to do a fuckton of things to be able to trigger! Have your Inquisitor and Solas be the sacrifices needed to make that happen so that you still get that bittersweet tragedy, crib the “Shepard is Spacedust Spacetime God” for it, idk! Make a dozen different endings, if you want.

Veil comes down (Inquisitor dies)- Inquisitor dies in attempt to prevent it. Thus Solas wins, but it’s a pyrrhic victory because it is the final piece of his humanity he has sacrificed. He rules as a stone-hearted king. Romance version: Solas has once again lost a world he cherished. His heart.

Veil comes down (Solas dies)- Solas dies to ensure it does, believing the world is better without him in it. The final sacrifice. But without Solas to lead the ancient elves, his efforts are all but wasted. They cannot gather together to rebuild and meanwhile every other kingdom and empire is crumbling from the shock of the Veil torn down. The world is on fire and demons are everywhere and oh my God what the fuck. This is the worst ending.

Veil stays up - Inquisitor dies to keep it up and things end up in such a way that Solas is incapable of ever interfering with the Veil again. His punishment is to live in this world created by his actions, divested of power, neutered.

Veil stays up (Romance optional: Stop Solas) - Solas somehow, either voluntarily or involuntarily, sacrifices himself to keep it intact. Essentially the “Good” and “Trick” DATV endings.

Veil stays up (Romance optional: Stop/Save Solas) Solas abandons his desire to tear down the veil. He accepts that trying to change the world is not worth it because this world is also worthy of life. Solas is basically put in Inquisitor’s/Lavellan’s custody. One can choose whether to imprison Solas, Tranquilize him, kill him, or task him with helping make the world a better place.

Veil comes down (Romance-Save Solas) - By some means, Solas and Lavellan sacrifice themselves to bring the Veil down safely. LoK Harmonic Convergence. It is more difficult for the world to adjust. Solas is not there to lead the ancient elves, Lavellan is not there to help unite modern people. It’s a brave new world, for better or worse. Underlying theme: We have to believe and hope that people will strive to make the world better.

Veil comes down (Romance-Save Solas) - The rarest and most difficult achievement. Solas and Lavellan survive and the Veil comes down. They are there to lead their worlds toward integration and coexistence. They live happily ever after. I don’t know what big sacrifice needs to be made for this to work. Perhaps Solas completely loses his magic? Perhaps he also loses a limb. I don’t know, fam.

Anyone got any other ending ideas?

I’m just talking aloud and getting my thoughts down. Pay no mind to me. I have never claimed to be good at writing stories.

[gestippeldedieseltreinworm]

.

[letstrywritingmaybe]

I’m requesting yet again for yall not to leave me comments, I don’t need them and I don’t even necessarily want them. Especially if you’re going to question me and I don’t know you. I don’t care to defend myself. I hate conversing through comments, yeah I know it’s a thing but I don’t like it. I prefer messaging on tumblr or even an ask.

My reputation as a Shinichi hater is alive and well. Good, cause it’s true and I won’t deny it. I’ve been trying to escape this ship for years now and I still haven’t. I’ve said a million times I’m just here for Shiho, give me a better option and I’ll jump ships in a heartbeat! I just can’t get over how cruel he was to her, and how he tried to get into her good graces by pretending to be nice. Plus the canon ship propaganda is so tiring. Sure recently we’ve gotten some stellar moments and I try to focus on that, but I just think my queen deserves better. She deserves someone who can and will love her loudly without making her feel like they settled. Yes his actions speak louder than his words and it’s clear he cares about her, but then I get stupid shit about the canon ship and I’m just like really? This again? Give me a reason to root for them! Or at the very least let my queen live and let her move on. I could care less about him. Everyone fucking loves him already, where’s the love for my queen? I swear most fics go on about how perfect he is and how she’s the problem and how much she needs him, miss me with that bs. I get that in canon, and I’m so over it.

Now excuse me while I continue to write CoAi fics that end happily

Update: while I’m here ranting on my blog. I truly don’t understand why we continue to romanticize the idea of him being an idiot and expecting them to be closer when he didn’t fucking ask or make things clear. The amount of times I’ve heard my irl peeps complain about not knowing where they stand with someone cause it was never clarified is annoying. I don’t want that in fiction too even if I do prefer things to be realistic! Either let my queen make a move and be like this is what I want with you or have him say the actual words to get them together! What’s with all this not knowing and not being on the same page even though you’re supposed to know each other best??? Idk man. I just find it ooc for her to be open with her feelings so I think he has to be the one to spell it out. But then I read this fic and I’m like it’s well written sure but why is it my queen’s fault that she thinks they would be better off apart? That’s very in character to me. And yes him having a problem with it also makes sense, but then to have him go around and play the victim and be like why don’t you understand me???? Like what???? Boy you fucking didn’t say shit! And okay sure you can say she avoided him cause she would, but then why wouldn’t he be clear when they have the actual convo like why make her guess? She’s going to second guess cause of course she would! And that just makes it a whole mess again! Cause now he’s upset with her and she doesn’t get it and he still isn’t being straightforward. It’s 2024, is it really that hard to get a real confession out of him? Must it be coerced like whatever bs happened with the canon ship? Does he really have to lose her to finally go after her?? Cause at that point I low key fucking wish he would. I just really freaking hate that it’s always her fault. Why the fuck is it always her fault for not catering to him? I’m so annoyed cause I like the writing style but it’s exhausting reading this bs. I want out of this fandom. I really want to be done. I care way too fucking much and it’s not healthy at all for me.

[ajxrn-archive]

I’m going to. rip my fucking hair out.

[r4di0h3ad]

just practice

paring! bsf!jj x reader

in which! you have a date coming up and you still haven’t lost your virginity, so you go to your best friend in the hopes he will help you out and save you from embarrassment

warnings! smut. loss of virginity. oral sex (f. receiving) pnv sex. unprotected sex.

part 2

you find jj at the chateau, laying in a hammock on the porch with his shirt off and a joint between his fingers. you could smell the scent of weed before you even made it to the door and jj gave you a smile when he noticed you.

“hey, j.” you greeted, now standing in front of the bench. “you busy?”

“what’s it look like?” he took a long drag from the joint and exhaled. you couldn’t help but grin at his glazed over eyes and his genuine, high smile.

you glanced into the screen door, looking for john b, or anyone else, but couldn’t see well from the smoky haze.

“anyone home?”

he shakes his head no.

“kie and pope are working, think john b’s out with sarah.” he says. “why? you okay?” his eyes soften and you notice his look of concern.

“yeah,” you smile, “everything’s fine, just need to uh- talk to you.” you had no idea how you were gonna go through with this without making it incredibly awkward. you already felt sick to your stomach at the thought of him rejecting you and never seeing you the same way after this.

jj nods and stubs out his joint. he stands up and opens the screen door, motioning for you to enter first.

“after you.”

you smile and step inside, but you soon begin to feel ill at the fact that you were really going to ask him this. you wanted this to happen, but you were terribly nervous.

you lead him to his room and close the door behind you. he sits on the edge of the bed and you follow, sitting crisss cross, facing him.

“you sure everything’s fine?” he asks, obviously questioning the fact that you wanted to speak to him in his room, and that you were silent.

“i told you about that guy i’ve been talking to for a few weeks, yeah?” you start, not wanting to make eye contact with the boy.

“yeah.” he nods.

you try not to pick at the skin of your fingernails.

“okay, well, he asked me out.” you say. “the date’s tomorrow.”

he furrows his eyebrows in question, noticing that you sounded kind of disappointed about something that was supposed to be good.

“well that’s a good thing, right?” he scoffed. “i mean, i cant remember the last time you went on a date.”

“shut up.” you nudge him. “yeah, it’s a good thing… i like him- i think.”

“alright, well, that’s all you wanted to tell me?” he asks. “you don’t need dating advice right? because i can’t help you in that department.”

you fight a smile at his remark and shake your head no.

“okay, here’s the thing.” you sigh before you force out your next words, absolutely dreading his reaction. “i don’t know if he’ll wanna sleep with me eventually, and, well he’s kind of experienced with girls and all that, and i’m kind of…. not.” you cringe at your choice of words, already regretting coming to jj out of embarrassment. you glance at him momentarily and he seems to be studying you, waiting for you to keep talking. “what i mean is, like-“ you sighed. you knew you sounded like a complete idiot, but you didn’t want to back out now.

“you know i’m a virgin, right?” you didn’t even want to look at him after the words came out of your mouth.

he smiled a little.

“i, uh, i figured.” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly and cleared his throat.

“don’t be a dick.” you shove him once again and he chuckles, which allows you to lighten up just slightly. “i’m saying that i don’t know what i’m doing - y’know, with guys and all that. i don’t want to embarrass myself in front of him.”

“so you want… sex advice? from me?” he asks, raising his eyebrows with suspicion.

you nervously bite the inside of your cheek and your face grows hot.

“well, i thought maybe a little more hands on.” you said before you could even stop yourself. you knew you had to just come out and say it or you would’ve backed out and nothing would ever come of this situation. you searched his face for a reaction.

he looked confused, but he didn’t seem whole heartedly against the idea. the silence between you both was becoming awkward and you felt the need to explain yourself, hopefully making the situation sound less like you were coming on to him and more like a friend just asking for help.

“i mean like, because you’re a guy and all, you would know what guys like best, i guess?” you said, as you watched him cross his arms over his chest and lean against the headboard of the bed. “and i was thinking about the fact that i’m going on a date for the first time since freshman year and now there’s a very high chance that i’ll sleep with him in the coming weeks, and it just- i don’t know, the idea of losing my virginity to someone i’ve known for a month didn’t really sound good to me.” you we’re rambling at this point to try and defend your case. “i would rather do it with someone i know, and trust.”

“you want me to take your virginity?” he asked, blatantly. “that’s what you came here for?”

you nod, probably chewing a hole into your cheek now.

“if it’s too weird for you, you don’t have to do it at all, it’s okay.” you said. “you were just the only person i felt like i could ask without it being awkward.”

“no, no,” his expression softens and he shakes his head, pulling his arms from his chest and taking his back off the headboard. “i’ll do it.”

“really?” your eyes light up because you expected this to go far south.

“yeah, no big deal.” he shrugs, even though in his head he knew it was a huge deal. he was going to be your first time and if he screwed it up, there was no telling what would happen between you two. “but, this won’t change anything between us right?” he asked. “like i just don’t want it to be awkward afterwards.”

“i swear.” you said, although you didn’t entirely know if that was the truth. “you’re just helping me out, right?”

“alright.” he responds. “you, uh, you wanna do this now or..?” he clears his throat again, visibly getting nervous, but your fears seemed to be disappearing now that you knew he wasn’t against the idea.

“the sooner, the better.” you said.

jj gets up from the bed and flips the lock on the door on the off chance someone were to come home.

“just a warning though,” you start, “i’ll definitely be really bad at this compared to the other girls you’ve been with.”

“that’s all right, you gotta learn somewhere.” he says, walking back to you and stopping right in front of where you were sitting on the bed. your heart started to race as the reality of what you were about to do started setting in. he sits down next to you and you could smell salt water and weed on his skin. “i’m gonna start with kissing you, is that okay?” you searches your face for confirmation and you nod, giving him the okay. “and you’ll tell me if i’m taking things too fast or if you wanna stop, right?”

you giggle a little at his attention to the matter.

“yes jj.”

you see a very slight smile appear on his lips before he slowly leaned in and connected them with yours. he tasted like weed but in the most perfect way as he skillfully moved his lips in sync with yours. his tongue softly swiped your bottom lip at the same time his hands found their way to the sides of your face and he held you there gently. you took him touching you as a sign to occupy your own hands with his body as you brought your hands around his back, feeling his bare skin.

his kisses started leading down your chin, and further down onto your neck where he connected his lips with your skin. you shivered at the new feeling of someone kissing your neck as he went lower still, reaching your collarbone. he pulled away and tugged at the him of your shirt, asking for more access to your body and he helped you out of the fabric.

“you doin okay?” he asks.

“totally fine.”

he connects his lips to your collar again as he carefully lays you down onto your back. he fights the urge not to leave any hickeys on you, knowing you had a date tomorrow.

you scoot your body up until you’re in the middle of the bed so that he can easily get on top of you. he continues kissing your body, getting lower and lower and with each passing second, you could feel yourself getting hotter and your arousal getting stronger. his mouth reached the waistband of your jean shorts and he looked up your for permission to take them off. you nodded and he unbuttoned them before sliding them down your legs and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

jj kissed the curve of your hipbone and you mindlessly rolled your core up towards his mouth, to which you could feel him smirk against your skin at your neediness.

“i’ll get there princess.” he said against the space under your bellybutton. you practically lost your breath at his words and your cheeks flushed out of embarrassment.

he continued kissing you even lower, placing his lips over clothed core and hooking a finger underneath the hem of your bikini bottoms.

“can i take these off?” he asked.

“please.” you nod, almost sounding too desperate.

he pulls your bottoms down your legs, leaving you exposed to him. the first time anyone had seen you like this, and you were thankful it was jj and not some random boy who didn’t know the first thing about you.

“you still alright?”

“jj,” you giggle. “i’ll tell you if somethings wrong, okay?”

“just being courteous.” he joked.

he brought his hand to your now bare core and used his thumb to swipe a line from your entrance up to your clit, making you whine from just one touch. he spreads your wetness around your clit, his pants growing tighter at the sight of your arousal. as he rubs painfully slow circles, he searches your face for signs of enjoyment, but your eyes were shut tight and your lips were parted, quiet whimpers leaving your mouth.

“just relax, okay?” he said, to which you nod eagerly. you were totally not relaxed at all. in fact you were amped on adrenaline from the way he kissed you.

and then before you could register what was happening, you felt something new touching you. you opened your eyes and looked down at jj’s face in between your thighs, seeing his tongue swirling over your clit. it felt better than any time you had ever touched yourself. his eyes met yours for a second and you wondered why you never asked him to do this any sooner even though you pictured him going down on you many times before

your hands found their way to his blonde locks, your fingers tangling into his hair as you threw your head back on the pillow.

“oh my god, jj” you moaned, to which he picked up the pace a little. he gripped your thighs firmly, holding them apart, occasionally rubbing circles into your skin with his thumbs to relax you.

his lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked, making you jolt your hips up in pleasure at the new sensation. your legs were trembling under his grip and jj didn’t think he could get any harder, but he was, in fact, getting harder by the minute.

“jj,” you moaned his name, “please don’t stop!” you were pulling his hair tighter, trying not to be too loud in case anyone were to come home, but it was impossible to keep your mouth shut with the way he was eating your pussy. “feels so good” you cried.

your hips were rocking back and forth, rolling in the same rhythm as his tongue, practically riding his face. he knew you were close based on the fact that your moans were getting closer together and your legs were shaking harder. he suddenly switched the direction of his tongue, now going side to side and occasionally sucking on your clit, swallowing your juices.

your back was arched off the bed, your hands flying to the sheets for something to hold on to as your high approached in small waves. you moved one hand to cover your mouth, trying to stifle your moans, but jj immediately reached up to your arm and pulled it from your face, not stopping his movements.

“need to hear you cum” he said against your clit before harshly sucking on it.

“fuck” you moaned, his words alone almost leading you over the edge.

he snuck two fingers into your entrance and slowly moved them against the sweet spot inside you. the mixture of his mouth expertly lapping at your clit and his fingers pushing into you had you coming undone.

“fuck- don’t stop- please- don’t st-“ you couldn’t even get the last words out as you felt yourself completely lose control. you didn’t know how loud you were moaning because all of your senses had faltered as the tidal wave of ecstasy crashed over you.

he kept licking until you had fully ridden out your orgasm, and even then, he continued, his grip still tight on your legs as they trembled. you pushed his head away from the overstimulation and then lay limp, your chest rising and falling as you came down, your eyes still closed.

“need a second?” he asked, mockingly, his hands running up your torso and to your still covered breasts. he felt your nipples harden under your bikini top and he desperately wanted to get you out of it.

you wrap your arms around his back and pull him on top of you, connecting your lips with his again. he immediately kisses you back and reaches behind you to undo your top, which quickly comes off and jj’s eyes land on your breasts. he takes them both in his hands and leans over you to suck your nipple, making you shiver.

you occupy your own hands with his belt, fumbling with the clasp until it’s undone and pulling it through the loops.

he pulls himself away from your tits and starts undoing the zipper before his eyes meet yours.

“you sure you’re okay with this?” he asks.

“i wouldn’t be fully naked in front of you right now if i wasn’t.” you joke.

he gets up from the bed to take his shorts off and look around the room, presumably for a condom.

“john b’s gotta have some around here, hold on.” he says, opening up the top drawer of the dresser and rummaging through the pairs of socks and underwear.

“you don’t have to, jay.” you say, but he doesn’t listen, still looking inside the dresser for any small, silver packages. “i’m on birth control.”

he turns around cocks his head at you.

“what?” you question. “makes my periods lighter.” you shrug.

“i’m still pulling out though.” he says before he walks back to the edge of the bed and slides his boxers off, revealing his achingly hard cock. you visibly got nervous at his length, swallowing the saliva in your mouth. jj notices the redness in your face and gets into the bed, pushing hair out of your face with his fingers. “i’ll stop if it’s too much, just tell me.” you nod, anxiously and he positions himself on top of you, stroking his cock a few times before you feel his tip at your entrance. his eyes meet yours for confirmation and you give him a nod.

his cock slowly pushes into you, not even an inch as he doesn’t want to hurt you. you shut your eyes hard, preparing for it to hurt, but you feel barely any pain. he kisses your neck and pushes himself in a little farther.

“this feel okay?” he asks against your skin.

“feels good, j.” your hands find their way to his back again.

once he bottoms out, you feel a slight pressure at your cervix before he slowly starts moving, giving you time to adjust to the feeling.

you hear jj moan in your ear from the painfully slow strokes he was taking, trying to keep himself from going too fast for you. his cock rubbed against your g-spot and you kiss the area in between his collar and neck.

“i’m okay jj.” you reassure him. “faster, please.”

he picks up the pace and continues kissing your neck. your nails dig into the skin of his back.

“you feel so good” he moans. “doin’ so good for me- fuck.” he didn’t even realize what he was saying, but you enjoyed the hell out of it. his praises added to the pleasure of him inside you.

he was going fast enough now that you could hear your skin hitting against each others as your hips connected. every thrust was stroking your sweet spot and you were pretty sure you were leaving scratches on his back, but jj felt too good to even notice.

he leaned back a little so that all his weight was on his knees and his back was straight as he grabbed one of your legs for support and used his other hand to rub your clit at the same time he was fucking you. the double stimulation illicited a loud moan from you that encouraged jj to keep going, almost nearing his end.

his thrusts were getting sloppier and his breathing was heavier but he wanted to make you finish before him. your chest heaved, feeling the new sensation of him filling you up at the same time as his fingers worked on your clit. the pressure was building up and you knew you were close. you suddenly pulled him against you so that your chests were pressed against each others.

“fuck- jj” you moaned. “m’so close.”

his heavy breathing sounded like heaven to you as he started to fuck you even harder, his cock sliding perfectly in and out of you.

“sweetheart” he moaned into your neck. “m’not gonna last much longer.”

almost immediately after he said those words, you felt the band in your stomach snap as you came around his cock, squeezing and pulling him deeper inside you. you cried out his name as he fucked you through your second orgasm.

“fuck, baby-“ he pulled out of you and stroked his cock that was slick with your wetness. you watched his face contort in pleasure, his eyes barely open and his lips parted, his eyebrows furrowed. his cum shot onto your stomach and tits.

he tried not to stare too long at the mess he made of you, realizing almost as soon as he finished that this was a one time thing he may never get you like this again.

he got out of the bed and grabbed a shirt of the floor, which he cleaned you up with and tossed it.

“you okay?” he asked again.

you rolled your eyes.

“how many times are you gonna ask that?” you scoffed. “i liked it, j. don’t know how my date’s gonna top that.” you joked.

then, jj remembered that this was all practice for you to go and have sex with another guy and he suddenly felt sick. he pulled his boxers back on and picked up your articles of clothing from the floor and tossed them to you.

the truth is, you didn’t even want to go on that date anymore. not after the way jj took care of you.

“hey, jj!” a voice, john b’s, ripped through the chateau and both of your eyes widened, looking at each other with panic. “you home?”

you swiftly put your bottoms and shorts back on in under 30 seconds and shrugged yourself into your flimsy shirt while jj was putting his belt back on. you quickly exited john b’s room before he could see where you both came from and you nervously greeted him in the living room to see that sarah and kie were home as well.

“heyy, jb.” jj said, awkwardly.

“what have you two been doing all day?” john b asks.

kiara walked over to the kitchen to grab a beer and when she turned around, she noticed the marks on jj’s back. she paused in her steps.

“jj, what’s with all the scratches on your ba-“ and then she realized. her face contorted in disgust. “ewwww, are you guys fucking serious?”

your face grows hot with embarrassment and you wanted to dig a whole to die in, but john b seems barely faced as he walked past you, saying something near you.

“at least you made that boy’s dreams come true.”



[cathnospam]

“I didn’t shave—“

“I do not…give a fuck. Open your legs.”

You and Bakugo have this argument at least once a month. You only need to wax your little lady once a month after your period , and it’s about that time to do so but you have 2 problems;

Your appointment isn’t until 2 more days, and you have a boyfriend that has been waiting a full week to eat you out.

“‘Suki I told you I hate—-“

“Why do you give a fuck about that? It’s HAIR.”

“I FEEL DIRTY.”

“You just took an everything shower.”

Bakugo NEVER understood the point of shaving your pussy anyway. He genuinely does not care whether there is hair or not on it, and after having an irritating crave to eat your pussy he definitely couldn’t care less.

“It’s a bush.”

“I don’t—- y/n the area I wanna suck—“

“Don’t be a pervert.”

He deadpanned at you, the Blondie also never cared for how blunt he was with his dirty words. Just two weeks ago you and him were eating cereal when he just casually spoke, “When I get home tonight I wanna eat your pussy against the door like I did last night.” As he gets up to clean his bowl.

No emotion

And no care.

He’s a damn savage.

“Your clit don’t have hair on it it’s just the lips.”

“OMY fucking—“

“Please.”

You blink, “what…”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Bakugo groans loudly and lays his head on your shoulder. And bites it, “OW!” The main reason why Bakugo haven’t let up is because you and him established a strict safe word rule. He knows he can be pushy with things he wants but he’d never want to make you uncomfortable about it. If you GENUINELY don’t want him to all you have to say is “TNT” and he’ll drop it no questions asked. And never bring it up again.

But here you are, contemplating.

Your thoughts get broken by a soft kiss on your jaw, his scarred warm palms lifting your his shirt , playfully tapping his fingers on your clothed panties, “I heard you playing with yourself in the shower.”

You freeze, feeling his devious smirk against your cheek, his natural scent and musk clouding your mind as he keeps kissing you, rubbing on your body, “You want it as bad as I do. I fucking know you do.”

“Remember last time?”

He had your knees to your ears last time, ass hanging off the edge of the bed as he spit, licked, and sucked all inside and on your pussy. His fluffy hair tickling your inner thighs, his thumbs pressing into your skin so deep you could just barely grind against his mouth. Bakugo was always a nasty ass eater to the point you were embarrassed just watching him.

His ring and middle finger swirling circles on your clit as his tongue filled your aching tight hole, the way he stops for a moment to kiss the soft little nub , nearly making out with it making you roll your eyes because his pillowy wet lips felt soooooo good against you.

You remembered how he’d slap your ass a few times when you looked away for too long or covered your mouth, you swore he’d heat up his hands slightly just to do so.

You remembered how he’d hold your ankles up and he licked stripes against your pussy and his tongue teasing your other hole.

You remembered how he’d swished his head back and fourth while his lips captured your clit and tugged on it. Sending you over the edge while he sucked and groaned. Two fingers pumping inside you.

“You remember, huh.” His raspy voice against your ear, already teasing his fingers inside you panties, “You came so much you passed out right after.”

The more he spoke to distract you the further he got, eventually laying you down on his huge couch, to pulling off your panties, to opening you legs, to kissing each thigh, and down to repeating his exact actions from last time.

And no he did NOT care about the hair.

[robo-writing]

Okay, now I need a fic based on the session the reader and Logan has when he was slapped. Like the thought of her passing out and he still continued to fuck her? And her coming too and he’s just pumping her full of his come? Lord have mercy 😩🤤

me getting this anon while i was knee-deep in writing angst is something so funny to me, crying my eyes out then opening my inbox to see this gave me mental whiplash like you can’t believe He barely sounds human, more man than beast. The weight of him pins you into the bed, unable to move. The creaking of the bed, your weak cries, his downright animalistic grunts of pleasure as he thrusts into your tired, achy cunt—you two sound like a cheap porno, and not in a good way.

You have no one else to blame for the six foot wall of muscle that pins you to the bed, holds your hands behind your back and fucks you like he’s got something to prove. His hips meet your backside again, and again, and again—each thrust leaving your ass raw.

You don’t know how long it’s been since he’s put you on your stomach, and you don’t care to know; all you want is for him to keep going. Hell, you’re not sure Logan would stop even if you begged him.

Reduced to his animal instincts, if he’s not panting in your ear like a bitch in heat he’s mumbling the filthiest fucking words into your skin, tongue lapping at the salt that clings to it.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he groans, each word emphasized by the sound of skin slapping on skin. “My girl, mine to fuck, mine to breed.”

It genuinely hurts to breathe, but all you scratching at his arms does is spur him even further. Eventually you give up, lie back like a good little whore and let him fuck you until either you pass out or he runs out of energy.

Unsurprisingly, option A seems to happen first.

A few spots in your vision, a ringing in your ears, then nothing. An unknown time passes, and you wake up in the same spot as before, spread open and speared on Logan’s magnificent dick.

At least from what you can gather he’s a bit more put together now, still pumping himself inside your warm walls, but much less violent than he was before. You feel the familiar thrum of orgasm on the horizon, an odd sort of pleasure-pain that keeps you aware long enough to listen to your boyfriend speak.

“‘M sorry baby, fuck, just couldn’t stop,” he says, kissing up and down your spine in apology, still chasing after his own high with each word. “Feel too good, so, so good, goddamn—“

He’s stuttering, cutting himself off, unable to string together a full sentence. You chance a glance at him and fuck, he’s a goddamn mess. Sweat dripping from his brow, muscles flexing so hard you could count each vein, a rosey blush running from his face to his chest—he looks like he’s just came from hell and back. Damn near incoherent, whispering sweet nothings into your shoulder—

“Lemme come in you baby, just one more time, one more fuckin’ time—“

It’s a rhetorical question at this point; like you ever had a choice with the way his cum drips from your cunt. So full of him that each thrust pulls more out of you, only to be replaced. He’s had to have cum inside of you multiple times, the sloppy sound of it mixing with the sound of his balls slapping against your ass.

And yet, he keeps on going.

An urge to control, to keep, a need to stuff his cock inside of you and have you know exactly who it is that has your pussy creaming for him.

[chelseeebe]

yours, forever

18+ mdni. smut. mean!exhusband!eddie;) breeding kink if you squint a lil

a/n: i was not expecting to post again so soon but this genuinely couldn’t wait lol. i have another parts to this little piece so lmk if you’d like to see it. someone posted a really really good exhusband!eddie fic like a month ago and ive lost it, but they inspired this entire thing!

^it was this post by @madelynraemunson !!!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

eddie wasn’t expecting to find you standing on the other side of the door, nor had he expected you to barge right past him and into his kitchen. 

you seemed to show up with zero rhyme or reason, typically wanting something from him. 

that was fine, appreciated even. 

he just wasn’t a fan of you waltzing into his home with the sole purpose of talking about your pig of a husband. 

“david wanted me to ask you if he could take the kids up to washington to see his parents,” you stand awkwardly at the kitchen island, his apartment a shell of the house you once owned together. 

eddie pauses, launching the dish towel onto the counter and laughs, deep and gravely as he swings back around, “no.” 

“why not?” you huff, blinking expectantly at your petulant ex. he’d always been a sucker for your eyes, divorce couldn’t changed that. 

“because i said so,” leaning against the marbled counter, “he asked you to ask me and i said no, that’s it. done.” 

“you’re being stubborn,” crossing your arms over your chest, scolding in the way you talk to him. 

“i don’t care.”

“eddie,” stepping forward. 

“sweetheart,” his tone disapproving as he also steps up, closing the gap between you, “no,” enunciating the word in hopes that you’d actually understand now. 

“don’t be an asshole,” you frown, a couple years ago you’d pout and get your own way but now eddie found great satisfaction in telling you no.  

“i’m not being an asshole, you asked me a question and i answered, dave can go to washington, but you and my kids can’t,” his lip twitching into a dastardly smirk. any minute now you’d crack, really let loose on his ass. 

“oh, so now i can’t go? who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?” poking your sharp finger into his chest, a fury behind your eye that almost instantly made him hard. 

“the father of our kids? or have you forgotten about that?” 

“unfortunately not,” rolling your eyes, nonetheless you make no effort to leave, your bag already on the counter, signifying that what he assumed would happen next was definitely going to happen next. 

“you don’t mean that,” sidling closer, trapping your body between the counter and his chest, “because if you did, you wouldn’t let me keep fucking the shit outta you.”

eddie’s rock solid now, this was foreplay for him, getting high off of the way you argued with him, degrading him right to his face. 

“shut up,” rolling your eyes to the back of your head, fingers curling into the hem of his shirt, “you’re so pathetic,” glancing down at his boner now pressing against your cunt. 

“mmhmm,” he wouldn’t fight it, in fact, he’s proud of it, “only for you though,” finding your hips, palming at the doughy flesh. 

your lips twitch and he knows he’s won this fight, planting your lips to his, a firm hand on his chest just to remind him who was really in charge. 

sighing into your mouth as you move against him, his hands running beneath the seam of your skirt, feeling his way up the backs of your thighs to settle on your ass. 

“eds,” you hum, pulling away from his lips, “i’ve gotta go pick the boys up,” making zero effort to stop the inevitable, your chest flush against his.

“well better make it quick this time then,” he growls, walking your body into the countertop, manhandling your body to face you against the hard counter, pressing up against the swell of your ass. his belt clinks as his jeans fall down around his thighs, boxers following behind. 

“this is.. i have to go,” you gasp, rolling your head back to allow his lips room to find your neck, nuzzling right into his favourite spot just tucked underneath your jaw. 

“then why don’t you leave?” his gruff voice vibrates against your chin as his hands slide underneath your shirt, spilling your tits from your bra to get a full handed grope of them. 

your hand rests atop of his, the other gripping to the countertop for dear life. 

you’re not going to leave, that much is obvious. eddie’s also fairly certain that you’ve got at least an hour before you have to go. he’s not stupid, you play the game just as much as he does, pretending to leave just to pounce on him straight after. 

“that’s what i thought,” sarcastic as ever, threatening to score violet splotches behind on your neck, though his lips detach before he’s able to. 

eddie lets his thoughts slip back to the reason you’re even here, letting himself get frustrated by your blind audacity all over again. 

“you must be fucking stupid coming in here, asking me shit like that,” his large, calloused hand pawing at your tits, the other yanking your panties down to hang around your thighs. 

“no i’m not,” arguing back though you’re completely docile, allowing him to bend your torso over the marbled countertop, his hands groping your plush skin. “he’s my..” sigh, “husband now and you need to- fu-uck respect that,” fingers curling around his arm, pinching at the skin when he slides inside with no warning. 

“what was that?” eddie mocks, slamming into your cunt with little remorse, full of years of pent up frustration and a tiny dose of regret. 

once upon a time, this was his everyday. having you absolutely anywhere he wanted, and now it was solely reserved for times you really needed him to agree to something. or perhaps david had done something stupid, as he often did. sending you running back to eddie like a feeble little deer. 

“shut up,” sighing in time with his rough strokes, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoes through his barren kitchen, filthy sounds of sex wailed through his apartment far more often than they should. 

before you’d met david, he’d see you once a week while dropping the kids off, maybe he’d get to taste you a couple times a month, if he was lucky. it was only after you remarried that you’d come around unannounced, asking about something that most definitely could’ve been a call. 

eddie doesn’t care, you’re the only woman for him anyway, a couple divorce papers couldn’t change that. 

“you fuckin’ love it,” he growls, grabbing a fistful of your hair and fiercely tugging your head back, “y’gotta drive all the way over here just to cum, ain’t that sad?” speaking low right into your ear, his arms keeping a strong hold of your torso as your knees grow weak. 

“you don’t.. you’re- fuck you,” knuckles glowing white with your grip on the counter, other hand desperately nuzzling between your thighs, circling your neglected clit. 

“have to speak up honey, i can’t hear you,” the tip of his cock nudges against your soft spot, eliciting a strangled mewl from your pretty wetted lips. 

“i can make myself cum,” you speak proudly through gritted teeth, voice bouncing around with every slam of his hips, “i don’t need you,” rubbing your clit harsher, as if to prove a point. 

“oh yeah? show me baby.. let me see you cum,” slowing his strokes but keeping his cock firmly enveloped inside, jaw clenching with every squeeze and quiver of your cunt. 

eddie palms your tit, getting as much satisfaction from this as you were. your whimpers alone could make him cum, hell, just a look and he was rock solid in his jeans. 

“oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” gasping into the air, leant back against his shoulder, head turning to hide in the nook of his neck as you teeter over, waves of pleasure shocking your body. 

“shit,” he grunts underneath his breath, feeling you writhe around in his arms, “that was good sweetheart, my turn,” resuming his assault on your cunt, breath stuttering as his hips begin to rock again. 

his hand replaces yours, slipping between your thighs to find your clit, thrusts becoming sloppy and weak as the blood rushes to his head, sending his stomach into a series of somersaults. 

even in your separation, your pleasure came first. an important pocket of information wayne had awkwardly handed him when his voice started cracking and girls no longer had cooties. 

you’re putty in his arms, fully relying on the countertop to keep you upright, thighs quivering with the intensity of your orgasm and the anticipation of the quickly approaching next one. 

“oh.. my.. god,” whining with every thrust, your voice thick with lustrous air, too fucked out to stand or even think straight. 

“i’m gonna, sh-shit cum sweetheart,” pounding recklessly into your trembling pussy, dripping in a mixture of your juices. 

you clench around him, tipping over the edge once more, barely able to hold yourself upright with shaking knees and a harsh grip of his arm. 

eddie isn’t, nor had he ever been one for pulling out, he liked running that risk, the thrill of maybe knocking you up again. 

three kids don’t happen without at least one accident, that’s for sure. 

he doesn’t now, pumping the thick ropes of his release into your cunt, groaning belligerently as he does so. praying to god this was the time it stuck, pregnant with his child once again. 

you fall flat against the counter, heaving for breath with the last of his pathetic strokes, growling into the stuff air. 

he slaps a harsh palm to your ass for good measure, trailing his hand down your trembling thighs, “so you run along home now and tell him exactly what i told you,” fingering the lace of your panties as he hikes them back over your thighs.

“no.”