#as a small reward for another thought well done

[closet-of-bones]

I have the idea for a space pirates tsams au (was gonna be a fnaf sb au instead but I started thinking and then I had too much lore for some tsams characters that the sb au looked pale in comparison so here we are I am accepting my fate) and idk what to do with it. Should I post it in words or draw things? Should I even explain the concept?

Idk I totally suck at starting these things. I have a few au's that I never post about because I get nervous or think nobody will care. Which is completely fine...duh. but why post it and talk to nobody when I can keep it to myself and talk to nobody? Y'know?

Uuuhm. I might start posting about it. We'll see what happens ig. Just gotta convince pen to touch phone screen and actually draw smth first 😐

Uh oh

[berlynn-wohl]

okay so I was watching a video about videos and decided to write about writing (specifically, fanfic)

Typically I don't share my thoughts on fandom as a subculture and how it's changed because I don't have the stomach for the kind of things that can happen when one posts their opinions on social media. But I'm gonna give it a go today because I watched this:

You don't have to watch it, I'll tell you the thing that got me: it was about how on YouTube, people are likely to be fans of specific channels, and if you subscribe to one, you could probably, if asked, discuss what you like about that channel/creator with others. But the way TikTok's feed works (turning you into a passive consumer of an endless stream of short videos), it's more difficult to differentiate who the creators are, even when you subscribe to them. You're more likely to just say, "I'm a fan of TikTok" (...or "I'm addicted to TikTok"). This is evidenced by the fact that at a recent VidCon, TikTokers who had millions of views and hundreds of thousands of subscribers faced empty lines at the meet-and-greets, because their content was just part of a blur of content their subscribers passively put their eyeballs on every day.

And I had a thought: Has AO3 done this for fanfic? Of course AO3's content cannot be passively consumed; you have to enter search terms and use filters to find what you're looking for. But once you have entered such a search, you could well be faced with thousands of results, which you begin consuming by opening tab after tab after tab. If you were not in fandom before 2012, I cannot stress how ludicrous this amount of fanfiction is. Before AO3, unless you were in a MASSIVE fandom (like HP or LOTR), you eagerly awaited the arrival of new fics because there just weren't that many -- and even if you were in a massive fandom, if you shipped one of the less popular pairings (or preferred Gen), you still could not necessarily count on even one new fic a day that was to your tastes.

And in those days when fics were fewer and farther between, and when fandoms were more siloed, you got to know fanfic authors. You recognized their styles. When someone posted a new fic, you were excited because you knew what you could expect based on what you already enjoyed about that author's talents and inclinations. In a small fandom I was in long ago, where only about ten people wrote fic, we once sat around and brainstormed which popular music act's vibe corresponded with which each author's style! (I was The Clash.)

Compare that to now, where many readers in fandom have the opportunity to just click-read-click-read-click-read, not just as a reward at the end of a long day, but on the bus or anywhere. I don't think it's a coincidence that fics get fewer comments than they used to, and there's far less discussion of individual authors. There's no incentive to linger on something even if you enjoyed it, when the next fic is waiting in another tab.

Now perhaps it's better that the structure of fanfic culture has changed such that we have less potential for BNF drama. But it also means that whenever I see newcomers to a fandom asking for recs, most of the responses are "Have you read [the fic with the most kudos and comments on AO3]?" It's not just that this response is a bit superfluous, as the newcomer has probably already sorted the AO3 results by kudos/comments -- to me it also indicates that folks get so much fanfic from The Fanfic Website and so little community from The De Facto Fandom Platforms that it becomes difficult to remember individual fics, what you enjoyed about them, or how an individual author's style might make them a better match for a certain reader. (Yes, I am aware that AO3 has histories/bookmarks for people to refer back to, but when one accumulates 1000 bookmarks and then someone asks for a rec, most likely the bookmark holder is only going to remember, off the top of their head, That One Crazy Outlier Fic That The Entire Fandom Lost Their Shit About Seven Years Ago.)

I dunno, this is all I got in the way of thoughts. I'm not saying I want to go back to the way things were 10 or 20 years ago, but I sure do wish I could a-la-carte it a little, you know?

[cinnamonest]

Genshin x Reader - Silent Treatment

Okay so this was for an anon a while back that requested Childe + silent treatment, so 1) I got carried away and wrote the same prompt for several others, and 2) I lost the original screenshot of the ask I was going to post this with, sorry anon, but I have the content for it at least :’)

(includes: Childe, Xiao, Albedo, Heizou, Cyno, Kaveh, Kazuha, Xingqiu)

//this is mostly very lighthearted but there's still implications of yandere content. Some mild pain, Childe’s contains very mild nsfw, there might be indicators of fem reader somewhere in here, Kazuha’s and Xingqiu's are a little darker so both of those are at the bottom

Childe

“Hey.”

The second time he said it, he waved his arm to catch your attention, as if under the impression you somehow didn't hear him, despite being trapped to the confines of the same small room.

One little bedroom, far too small at that, a temporary lodging whilst on the ship’s return voyage home. Four days, which you were about halfway through at this point.

You were thoroughly convinced it was some sort of trial imposed upon you by a higher power. The sort of grueling test of perseverance so common in tales of legendary heroes, through which they'd become stronger, or reach some well-earned reward for their virtue.

Unfortunately, you had a feeling no such reward awaited you.

“Hey…”

The third time, it was more like a whine, he slouched over in the chair on the other side of the room before, after another moment of pause, setting aside whatever oh-so-important paper he was reading (those identically-masked soldiers were always handing off important things he was supposed to sign, but he never looked over them for more than a few minutes), and walked over to where you sat, needle in hand, mending his clothes after he got them torn for the umpteenth time, no doubt doing something completely unnecessary, after very specifically requesting he be more careful, and— well, it was one of many reasons why you were so very irritated.

He waved his hand directly in front of your face. “You spaced out or something?”

You clenched your jaw, exhaling a huff of frustration through your nostrils before jerking your head away, returning to your work.

He bent his knees slightly, crouching down to get at eye level with you, but you kept your gaze fixed, refusing to make eye contact.

Even though you kept your gaze to the task in your hands, he was still directly in front of you, and thus you could still see his face go through the stages of reaction. First a slack-jawed confusion, then eyes widening with realization, and then — much to your dismay — you saw the corners of his mouth turn upward into a sly, eager grin.

“Are you ignoring me?”

You gritted your teeth, eyebrows furrowed, poking the needle through one side of the cloth before reaching around to pull it through, making sure the action was harshly done and thus conveyed your frustration.

Which was, predictably, taken as a confirmation.

“Awww. That's so mean.”

His tone was obnoxiously gleeful, playful even — you were hoping for a negative response, not whatever this was. You tried to conceal any reaction yourself, knowing he'd only be satisfied if your irritation showed on your face.

“But, you picked a really bad person to try that with, you know. I'm pretty good at being annoying if I want to.”

The immediate retort that came to mind — that he could be very annoying even when he wasn't trying — took all your willpower to refrain from speaking aloud. You grinded your teeth.

“Hmm…”

You didn't like that sound. He was contemplating something, that couldn't be good for you.

His hand latched onto your wrist, forcing your work to a halt — at least he had the decency and forethought to specifically grasp the needle before yanking the whole thing away from you, setting it on the bedside table. Likely messing up your handiwork, you thought with ever increasing frustration.

Before you could move away, the mattress shifted and bounced with the sudden added weight as he moved onto it behind you, grabbing you by your arms, pulling you back against him. His arms wrapped around your body, firmly pinning your own arms to your sides. He then rested his chin on your shoulder — you could feel the smile on his face as the side of his face brushed against your neck.

Ah. So that was the tactic. The message, unspoken as it was, was clear — he had no intention of letting you move until you spoke to him.

You clenched your jaw and closed your eyes, refusing to give in.

A minute or so passed that way, likely testing your reaction, waiting to see if you'd give in so easily. The unfortunate thought occurred to you that he would probably be disappointed if that alone worked, that he probably wanted you to make it more difficult, and was likely enjoying the challenge. Perhaps you should have put a bit more thought into the plan, but it was too late now.

Your body stiffened as his hands met your bare skin — one reaching up your shirt, the other maneuvering underneath the waistband around your hips, groping at the sensitive flesh beneath. Your jaw clenched, and your hands balled into fists, the discomfort no doubt evident on your face, but you maintained your silence.

“Oh, wow. You're pretty dedicated to this, huh.”

You hated the fact that he sounded amused, more or less a confirmation that he was in fact enjoying this. Dammit.

You bit your lip, trying to focus on looking around the room — not that there was anything to really look at — and not the sensation, nor your increasing desire to give it up for the sake of strangling him. He continued the discomforting motions for another few moments, but soon gave up, slouching forward against you and returning to holding you still in his arms.

…And then, nothing. At least, for a moment. Only his arms wrapped around you, and the quiet, only dispelled by the low sounds of the ocean outside.

And then—

You squealed, lurching forward as a sharp pain shot through your shoulder. Your back arched and you jolted as you tried to squirm, only held back from doing so by the iron grip holding you in place.

You tried to turn your torso around, struggling against the grip, sputtering in near disbelief as you attempted to speak, voice quickly going shrill.

“You—you just— did you just bite me?!”

Rather than give any response, he merely pulled you to lean to your other side, bringing his mouth up to your opposite jugular, taking a dramatically deep breath, no doubt just to elicit a reaction.

And admittedly, it worked. “No no no, don’t you dare—eek!”

You squealed again as his teeth sank into your flesh once more, keeping a firm biting grip for just a second before releasing you again.

You began to squirm, trying to pull yourself away. “That— the hell? I was already talking to you, you little…!”

“Mhm. I know.” He pulled you back effortlessly despite your efforts to pull away, resting his head on your shoulder, nuzzling the side of his face to yours. “I just wanted you to make that noise again.”

A low, grumbling noise of irritation came out of your throat. You finally went limp, resigning yourself to your defeat.

“Fine!” You sighed. “What is it?”

He paused.

“…Eh?”

You could hear the confusion in his voice. You sighed.

“You were trying to get my attention, remember? What were you going to tell me?”

“Oh. Uh…”

There was another pause. A few seconds of quiet passed before he finished—

“I actually don’t remember now.”

You closed your eyes and let your head fall forward, saying a small prayer to the gods that this ship sank and took you with it.

Xiao

“I'm going to get food for you. Do you have anything particular you want?”

With those words breaking the silence, you now had your chance to carry out the intended act of spite you’d spent the last hour planning in your head. It had been quiet for some time, making it a bit difficult to exercise said plan. Your captor was perfectly content with silence itself, which meant that this was, perhaps, not the best tactical approach, but you didn’t exactly have many tools of conflict at your disposal, so this expression of resentment would have to do.

Clenching your jaw, you exhaled in a frustrated huff, turning onto your side to face away from him. After a few moments of pause, he spoke again, seeming to not understand your lack of response.

“…I was asking you a question. I need to know what to bring back.”

Still, you didn’t reply.

You heard him shuffle over to you, feet brushing against the cold stone floor, before you felt his hand grasp your shoulder through the blanket, giving you a light shake.

“What do you want? You need to tell me.”

“…”

A few more seconds of silence passed. You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel the staring on your back as he seemed to slowly piece together the significance of your current behavior.

“…You are doing this on purpose.”

He gave his conclusion as if it needed to be said aloud, apparently less immediately obvious to him than it was to you. After a few more seconds, in a similar tone, he drew another conclusion.

“You’re upset.”

If not for your current effort of silence, you would have made some snarky comment about his brilliant deduction skills.

But you said nothing. Your eyebrows furrowed. Part of you did want to lash out, to express your irritation verbally, but you forced yourself to stay silent. More seconds of silence passed by.

Taking your lack of reply itself as confirmation, his next words took on a tone of increasing frustration.

“This is pointless. What do you accomplish by ignoring me?”

“…”

“You will die without food.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…Stop that.”

“…”

A minute of silence passed. The adeptus was seemingly uncertain of how to proceed, perhaps confused to your whole purpose with the effort of silence.

And then, you jolted at a sudden sharp pain as the cartilage of your ear was grasped and subsequently twisted.

“Ow ow ow!!” You bolted upright, jerking your head out of his grasp, clasping a hand over the now-sore ear as the momentary pain began to ebb away.

You glared, narrowing your eyes. “Was that necessary?”

He folded his arms, an equal look of displeasure on his features, and with a deadpan voice, replied—

“Yes.”

You waited for anything further he had to say, but it seemed that was all he had to say. You sighed, slouching over.

“…I dunno. Just get me whatever’s easiest for them to make.”

He folded his arms.

“Why didn't you just say that then?”

You merely shrugged, not having the energy nor the desire to explain any concepts of human social phenomena — a process that was always frustrating and time-consuming — on this day in particular.

After a few moments of pause as he looked to the ground, he looked up at you again, eyebrows furrowing.

“…Don't do that again.”

You nodded, exasperated, and closed your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I won't.”

You opened your eyes, turning your head to look at him, only to be met with an empty room, only the faintest trace of color, like a flickering light before it faded.

And thus, you sighed, laying back down in bed, resolving to try and conjure up a new tactic.

Albedo

“Hey, do you mind turning that light off?”

It was the first time he had spoken to you since your earlier fight. Well, perhaps ‘fight’ was not the best descriptor — it was more like you getting upset over something trivial and whining, only to get increasingly upset when he gave only his typical dry, snarky replies, ultimately ending with you turning your back to him — but nonetheless. It seemed he thought that enough time had passed that you would be over your petty anger.

He would find that assumption to be incorrect, and as childish as it was, you felt some satisfaction by remaining silent from where you sat upright in bed. You rested your head against your hand, turning your gaze out the window.

“Hey, ___,” he said your name again, trying to gain your attention. “The light, next to you.”

Still, you didn’t reply, this time closing your eyes as if to block him out, this time turning your body away from him and towards the window instead.

“…Ah. I see.”

You waited for him to continue, to press you about why you were upset so you could resume your earlier ranting.

But then, there was only silence.

You waited another moment. And another. And another.

But he didn't say anything further.

After a minute or so had passed, you slowly turned your head, confused by the lack of the reaction you had desired.

Seeing you turn in his peripheral vision, his motions of whatever he was working with paused as he turned his gaze towards you, tilting his head. “Mm?”

The bastard had the audacity to smirk at you. You glared, jerking back to turn away from him again.

…And more time passed. You waited. Minutes turned into an hour. And then another. You picked up a provided book to read after the boredom became unbearable, deciding that as long as you still gave him a cold shoulder, he'd still get the message.

…And even more time passed. A third hour. The sun fell and set and it grew dark, moonlight — and the light you'd still neglected to turn off — illuminating the room.

And then, finally, around three and a half hours after your initial interaction, after you were already lying down for the night, you heard the distinct sound you'd come to recognize as him putting the various tools away into a drawer. Then footsteps that pattered around the room, putting a few other things back into their proper places, the rustling of clothes being removed, and finally, the footsteps came close.

The mattress shifted and creaked as he climbed into bed next to you — finally turning off the lamp as he'd requested. He leaned over you, turning the blinds shut, and then, laid down in bed.

…And then there was only quiet.

The irritation swelling in your chest finally boiled over. You bolted upright.

“…Ugh! You— you…!”

“Oh, and here I was worried you were developing a throat cold.”

The dry-humored reply only served to infuriate you further.

“Why didn't you say anything?”

He didn't bother sitting upright himself. You could make out his form, but perhaps it was a good thing you couldn't see his face, as it was certain either a smug or unbothered expression that would only anger you further.

“My patience exceeds yours. It was just a matter of waiting.”

Your fists clenched so hard your hands trembled. You opened your mouth, but before you could give a spiteful reply, the sheets shifted as he sat up alongside you. His arm reached out, wrapping around your waist, and firmly pulled you back down to lie side-by-side.

He took a deep breath in, a heavy sigh out. “I'm pretty tired now, though. I understand you have some complaint to make, but I’d prefer you save it until tomorrow. Is that alright?”

Your eye twitched. You crossed your arms, turning your back to him.

“Jerk.”

“Mhm.” His arm reached over and pulled you close, your back pressed to his chest. “Goodnight.”

You huffed, pouting, but nonetheless—

“…Goodnight.”

Heizou

“Hey, so, I noticed there’s no food made or anything… it’s fine if you’re tired,” he raised his voice just enough as was appropriate for speaking to someone from the next room over. “I can go pick something up.”

The ever-upbeat tone to his voice only irked you further. Normally, you would have had food made yourself by the time he’d been home — now he’d been back for half an hour, and had finally walked into the kitchen to grab something, seeming to notice your act of protest. You’d been hoping he would immediately suspect something was wrong, but of course, he was too optimistic for that.

“But, if I’m going to do that, I need to go now,” he continued, as he made his way back into the living room, “before all the stalls close for the day.” He came to stand directly in front of where you sat on the couch, huddled with your blankets.

You said nothing, keeping your gaze turned to the floor. He tilted his head at your silence.

“…That good with you, or…?”

Several more seconds passed. You huffed, turning to the side.

Thus, it finally seemed to click with him.

“Oh dear. Cold shoulder.” Much to your irritation, though, he only sounded amused, not genuinely upset. “What might that be for?”

You gritted your teeth, pulling the blanket over your head, just leaving enough space for you to see. You could still see him from your side as he sauntered over a few steps, leaning over against the wall as he continued.

“I’m being serious, you know. I don’t know why you’re upset… although I suppose forcing me to figure it out is the intent, of course.”

Every word that came out of his mouth only made you angrier. The audacity to sound so smug, a playful sort of dramatism he always seemed to carry in his voice. It irritated you to no end, especially in moments like these.

And to make matters worse, you could see him smile in your peripheral vision.

“I know you probably intended this to make me upset or something, buuuut, you’re really just giving me a challenge to figure out.” You didn’t miss the cocky expression on his face. “And that’s kind of my thing, you know?”

…You supposed he was right about that. Dammit. You probably should have thought about that before deciding to go through with this… but it was too late now. You merely shifted around, pulling your knees up to your chest, hoping your frustration showed on your face.

“Will you talk to me if I get it right?” He only waited for a single second before seeming to realize the futility of the question. “Ah, well, I guess asking that is pointless. Hmm…” He put his hand up to his chin in a pensive pose, speaking aloud as much to himself as to you. “If you just wanted me to get you something, simply telling me would be the more logical course of action.”

Your mouth pulled into a taut line with your irritation. You waited, listening as he continued his deductions.

“You don’t have any complaints that have gone ignored or anything… and even then, you’d probably just remind me if there was something I’d forgotten to fix.” He stood back upright, beginning to pace around on the floor. “Besides, this sort of behavior generally indicates that the other party has committed a specific transgression. If you just wanted something, this would be an impractical way of going about your goal.” He nodded, as if confirming the thought to himself. “The whole silent treatment thing is generally just a means of communicating displeasure, so that the offending party is forced to acknowledge their transgression.”

You pulled the blanket fully over your head, flopping down onto your side in exasperation and frustration, listening to him go on. At this point, his analysis was starting to feel humiliating, the description of it more or less a reminder of just how petty and childish it was. You felt a burning sense of embarrassment in your chest as you curled up into a ball, hugging your knees.

“There are two major factors to narrow it down — an active or passive transgression,” he continued, “and if the former, was it something I said, or something I did? Hm…”

You heard his footsteps make their way around the room as he spoke.

“You were talking with me normally this morning, and I didn’t notice any hostility then, so it would have to be something occurring just within the half hour or so since I came home, or—”

And then, he stopped mid-sentence.

“Ah.”

The tone of voice of that single syllable was immediately recognizable as realization. You felt a surge of bitterness come up in your chest again, and although it was embarrassing, you were still determined to get your point across.

“You forgot,” you finally muttered. Your voice came out incredibly whiny and petulant, but at this point, you just dealt with the nagging sense of shame.

“I know, I know. I said we’d go take a walk and get some food when I got back, right?” You heard his footsteps draw closer, coming over to you, and the couch cushions shifted with his weight as he sat down. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? It was just a busy day, is all.” He reached over and rested his hand on your head through the layer of blanket. “I’m not going back on what I said, I just forgot. We can still go, we have time.”

You slowly sat up, pulling the blanket back down and uncovering your face. Your face felt hot, you looked down to the ground, unable to bring yourself to look him in the eye.

“…Sorry,” you murmured. Now that it was over, you felt horribly embarrassed by the whole stunt you’d pulled. You buried your face in your hands.

“Aw, don’t be upset. It’s fine.” He stood up, smiling, extending his hand out for you to take. “Come on, the lines will get long in just a few minutes.”

Now, you were actually quite grateful for his cheeriness. Still flustered, but humbled, you grasped his hand, letting him help pull you up. “Okay.”

“Mm.” He took a few steps over to the door, turning the knob, before coming to a halt. You saw the expression on his face waver, the smile twitch. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but stopped short, closing his mouth again and taking a deep breath—

“I won’t talk to anyone.”

You gave him the assurance before he could ask, your voice quiet, as if by speaking softly, the matter itself could be more easily swept away once you were done addressing it.

He let go of the breath he’d taken, exhaling as his shoulders relaxed. For just a second, there was some discomfort in his expression, but it was gone within a moment, replaced with another playful smile.

“Ah, thanks.”

And thus, he turned the handle, pulling you out into the fresh air, and the many faces of strangers you’d learned to pretend didn’t exist.

Cyno

“I'm going to head out in just a minute. You can come with me, if you promise to behave well.”

You grinded your teeth. The choice of words was irritating enough, but you were primarily angered by the mere notion that being able to go outside — such a simple, basic right — was somehow an earned privilege.

No matter. You were already determined to ignore him anyway. You chose not to respond, returning to the book in your lap as you sat on the bed, refusing to turn to face him where he stood a short length away.

Sure enough, after a moment, you heard his footsteps on the stone floor, gradually coming around to your side, leaning over to try and look at your face.

“…Did you hear me? I was saying—”

You huffed, turning yourself away from him.

There was a pause.

“Oh.”

It didn't sound particularly bothered, only mildly surprised — perhaps that itself irritated you even more.

You saw him tilt his head out of the corner of you eye, white strands of hair brushing against his shoulder. “Isn’t this rather pointless? Communicating your emotions would be faster and easier if you just verbalize it.” After a pause, he added, “You can't keep this up forever.”

He crossed his arms, waiting for a response, but after several moments, received none.

He sighed. “Well, suit yourself, I suppose.”

You were not expecting, however, what came next — the book you were focused on was suddenly torn from your hands. You almost verbalized the ‘hey!’ that ran through your mind, only catching yourself just in time to stifle any noise, but the irritation and surprise surely still showed on your face as you looked up at him in bewilderment.

“What?” He tilted his head. “The obvious course of action here is to do things to upset you into speaking. You have to give it up at some point.” He shrugged. “I might as well expedite that process.”

You inhaled, automatically preparing to retort, but snapped your jaw shut as you caught yourself before you spoke once again. Your hands curled into fists.

He held the book under one arm, quickly reaching over and grabbing the two others sitting on the table beside the bed. “Alright… hm.” He turned his head, scanning the room. “I'll take all your reading material, and leave you alone with nothing to do while I'm gone. That's… maybe eight hours. You’ll have a good deal of time to reflect on your choice, at least.”

Your mouth pulled taut in an expression of displeasure. You didn't like the thought of such boredom.

He made his way over to the nearby desk, scooping up the remaining books into his arms before turning towards the hallway door. He turned his head back towards you.

“Unless you change your mind.”

He then began taking steps towards the door — slowly, deliberately so. It was infuriating that he responded with such calmness, and far more so that he was so easily able to completely overturn your attempt with barely any effort, without even being affected by it at all, and above all, most infuriating that he knew you'd give the exact response he anticipated.

And you did.

“Wait, wait—”

He came to a halt, but didn’t bother turning his head back to look at you. “Yes?”

Your hands balled up into fists, you were so irked by his words and demeanor, but nonetheless, you told yourself, you had no choice. You weren’t about to endure the alternative.

“…Fine…” You stood up, looking to the ground in embarrassment and frustration as you stomped over to where he stood. “I’ll go.”

He gave you a nod. “There, see, that was a much easier way of going about this.” He then took a few steps back towards the desk, depositing the books that had been used as leverage in your bartering as he added, “don’t you think?”

You rolled your eyes, displeasure scrawled on your face. “…I guess.”

You stepped out of the room before he did, waiting for him to exit before following behind him, since you didn’t know exactly where you were going. For a few moments, you merely walked in silence. You didn’t know if he intended to address the matter again — hell, you never knew what he was thinking — but after a minute or so of silence, you got your answer.

“You know, if I were as spiteful as you were being, I might have rescinded the offer entirely,” he said, voice ever so blunt and monotonous. “And forced you to stay in there with nothing to do.”

You grinded your teeth, narrowing your eyes as you looked over at him.

“…Are you trying to get me to thank you?”

He didn’t miss a beat in his reply.

“It would be appreciated.”

You crossed your arms, puffing your cheeks out in a petulant pout, which seemed to get your refusal across well enough. He shrugged.

“Well, it was worth a try.”

Another minute passed. You took a turn down a dark hall, which seemed to prompt another thought to his mind.

“And in the future, you should probably be aware that such a strategy is rather weak. It’s very easy to turn around on the one using it, as you just observed.”

You huffed in irritation. “Yeah, yeah.”

“It’s actually very similar to a common flawed strategy used by beginner card players. You see…”

You sighed in exasperation, pressing your palm to your face as you prepared to tune out the following hour.

Kaveh

After the second time calling your name with no response, you finally heard him get up, walking over to where you lay in bed. You clenched your teeth, irritation exuding off your form in waves, so you hoped, at least.

As soon as he got closer, you huffed, closing your eyes, waiting for him to speak, and he did.

“Hey…”

Which you used as your cue to turn over, rolling onto your other side so that your back faced him.

There was a few seconds of pause before he pieced your actions together.

“…Are you mad at me?”

His voice was soft and pitiful-sounding, so much so you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.

That momentary guilt was, however, almost immediately replaced with another surge of irritation. No. You knew exactly was he was doing, it was intentional, and you weren't going to fall for it.

He walked around to the foot of the bed, leaning over to look you in the eye.

“Hey—”

But you averted your gaze, pulling the blankets up over your face, turning over onto your stomach.

There was a moment of pause. His tone shifted.

“…Hmph. Fine.”

With that, he turned on his heel, stomping back to the desk at the other side of the room, and sat down, huffing as he resumed his work. You could hear the bitter irritation in his pencil scribbling, much heavier-handed and harsher than moments prior.

You waited for him to say something more, thinking his resolve to walk away from being ignored wouldn’t last long, but to your surprise, after some time passed, he still managed to stay quiet.

And more time passed, and then some more. You’d initially begun ignoring him around ten-thirty or so, and now, you confirmed as you peeked out from under the blankets — having almost fallen asleep — it was well past midnight.

Finally, your attention turned back to him as you heard him put the pencil down. He stood up (you did not miss the harshness with which the chair was pushed back), walked (with heavy footsteps) over to the floor lamp at the side of the room, and turned it off, leaving only the moonlight to cast light through the room.

But rather than coming over to bed, he only made his way back to the desk, dramatically slumping back down into the chair, putting his forearms on the desk before slouching forward and burying his face against them.

And then, there was only silence. You waited, but nothing happened.

It wasn't exactly difficult to figure out the intention. On one hand, your immediate thought was that it was petulant, but then again, you felt a twinge of guilt realizing you were more or less the instigator here (even if it was only in reaction to him annoying you earlier), and that your course of action wasn't exactly mature either.

Well, you supposed the right thing to do now would be to at least try and reconcile. You sighed.

“Kaveh.”

That time, you were the one who only got silence as a response. Turning your own act against you, you guessed.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and, having been a bit hesitant the first time, fully committed to resolving the situation. You tried again.

“…Kaveh.”

….

After a few more moments, your voice took on a tone of frustration, which you tried to suppress for the sake of your goal of conflict resolution.

“Kaveh. I know you can hear me. Come on.”

He didn't lift his head, so his response — thankfully giving one, at least — was not only in a bitter, pitiful-sounding voice, but also muffled by fabric.

“What.”

You sighed. “Look, I… I'm sorry, just… come to bed, okay? Let's just forget this.”

Ugh. Although you still figured it was the right thing to do, you realized with disappointment that you were giving in yet again, as you tended to be the one to do. You resolved to be a little stronger-willed next time… then again, you always did that too.

“…No.” Even in the dark, you could see him — albeit only in the form of a vaguely red-white-blonde lump — shift around as he spoke, bitterness in his voice. “You obviously don't want me over there. I'll sleep here.”

You reached up to pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation as the defeat settled in. “No, I… I do. Please?”

Once more, you only got silence, even after waiting for half a minute or so. Finally, you took a deep breath, in and out, and — after a moment of hesitation to ask yourself if you were really going to do this, to which you determined it was for the best, regardless of what it did to your pride — swung your legs over the side of the bed, feet brushing against the cold floor.

Your footsteps shuffled against the hardwood with each of the very few steps it took to get from the bed to the desk. You could see him fidget as you approached.

In what you hoped would be perceived as affectionate, you bent your knees just enough to be at the same level as where he sat, an awkward positioning, but just enough to reach out and wrap your arms around him in an embrace.

“Come on. I’m sorry, okay?”

There was a few moments of quiet, and for a second, you thought maybe you would have no success, maybe he really was that upset. But then, he lifted his head, still speaking in a blatantly upset tone of voice.

“…Only if you tell me why you were doing that in the first place,” he muttered.

You sighed. “I dunno… I was just upset about everything from yesterday, and… look, it doesn’t matter.” You smiled, although you weren’t sure if he could see it. “Let’s just go to sleep… come on, please?”

There was a moment of pause, but finally, he stood up, huffing in residual stubbornness as he walked over to bed, falling flat on his back. “…Fine.”

You were too tired to be annoyed at that point, instead walking over, taking your place next to him. You decided to try and take the high road, so to speak. “…Sorry for ignoring you.”

You reached out and put your hand on his head. He turned, pulling you close, burying his face against your chest.

“…No, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, muffled by your clothing and flesh. “You’re right… let’s just forget it.”

You hummed in agreement. You were going to leave it at that, but after a moment, you felt him shift. He propped himself up on his elbow to speak.

“Hey, wait, what time is it? I was gonna show you the thing I was working on when you wouldn’t talk to me… I can still—”

“It’s one in the morning. PLEASE go to sleep.”

You both stiffened as the muffled voice came through the wall. Several awkward seconds passed.

Ah… you forgot how little privacy this place gave you. You raised your voice just enough to ensure you were heard.

“Sorry, Alhaitham…”

You heard him sigh and turn over on his side of the wall.

“Yeah, yeah.”

More silence as the seconds ticked by.

“I’ll, uh, show you tomorrow.”

“…Yeah.”

And with that, he finally laid back down to sleep.

Kazuha

“Ah, look at how bright it is. I didn't realize it would be a full moon tonight.”

He had a soft, blissful expression. He was one of those people that always seemed to find a great deal of joy in simple pleasures of life… depending on the circumstances, it could be either endearing or annoying.

At the moment, it was very much the latter. If you weren't so mad, you'd feel bad about what you were about to do.

It would certainly work, seeing as he was talkative by nature, always making little comments as you went about your day. You'd already tried to make your displeasure very clear — ever since you'd begun setting up camp for the night (in the middle of nowhere, where you now spent the majority of your time), you'd given him curt, cold, one-word replies, and the irritation was certainly audible in your voice.

He turned his head towards where you sat cross-legged on the ground, a wide smile on his face. “We should go for a walk, since it's so bright.”

The very last thing you wanted to do was more walking after having spent the entire day doing just that. You clenched your jaw, slouching over and resting your head against your hand.

A few seconds of quiet passed. After realizing you weren't responding, he leaned over to better look at your face, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, is something wrong?”

You huffed a heavy breath, jerking your head away from him.

“…Oh.” You could see him smile in your peripheral vision, albeit now an awkward, uncomfortable sort of smile. “You’re, ah, still upset about earlier, I take it?”

You didn't respond, maintaining your silence.

“…I'll take that as a yes… haha…”

The laugh was as forced and awkward as his expression. He stood silently for a moment, as if hoping it would be a very short effort and that you'd break your silence, but you did not.

“...It seems you really know how to find my weaknesses.” He gave you an awkward, sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head. “This is bothering me more than I would have thought it would… but that's your intention, I imagine.”

You didn't really have any particular direction to take this effort — you didn't have anything you wanted to accomplish with it or anything, it just seemed the only way you could think of to express your frustration. Now, you weren't certain what to do — your only real course of action, you supposed, was to keep it up. You kept your silence. He moved to sit beside you, just a short distance away.

Silence followed, only disrupted by the crackling of the small fire beside you and the wind weaving between the tall grass. He kept up the same cheerful-but-mellow voice as always, the one that so very much got on your nerves whenever you tried your best to exude negativity, which he always seemed to shrug off effortlessly, perpetually unbothered.

Yes, your snide, sometimes even mean comments, your cold tone, your disgusted expressions, those never seemed to bother him at all. He just laughed and smiled and carried on as he always did.

With this, on the other hand, it seemed you’d finally found a weak point. You resisted the urge to grin, quite pleased with having found a greater success than you’d even expected.

Meanwhile, his own smile continued to falter, twitching right alongside his arms.

“If there's anything I can do that will make you… not do this, I'll gladly do it. You just… you know, have to tell me.”

You saw his fingers curl, straining the fabric as they dug into his thighs with such force and strain that they began to tremble.

But for a few minutes, he did nothing. Perhaps he was just waiting, giving you time to see if you'd change you mind, or maybe he just couldn't decide how to proceed. You kept your gaze focused on the scenery, the blades of grass as they waved back and forth in the breeze, the reflection of the moon wavering in the pond off in the distance. As irritated as you were, the landscape was admittedly quite serene.

You were brought out of your focus by the rustling sound as he stood. You remained still, but your heart began to accelerate as he took a few steps towards you, his ever light-footed way of walking barely making a sound, maneuvering behind you before slowly sitting down.

He shuffled forward, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you back. Once your shoulder blades touched his chest, he tilted his head forward, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

You fought the urge to squirm. You didn't like the quiet. Something about it, in that moment, was ominous, suffocating, as if some innate instinct was telling you something was wrong.

When he finally lifted his head, he spoke directly into your ear, breath warm against the flesh.

“I don't want to hurt you.”

The sudden quiet, low voice sent a chill down your spine. You found yourself going stiff, eyes widening.

His grip tightened, squeezing your waist firmly enough that it began to hurt.

“…I don't like doing that… it makes me feel really weird, you know…?”

It grew tighter. His fingers began to dig into your sides, ten small points pressing with painful force. You stiffened, body reflexively arching forward to get away from the pain, but they only dug in harder, pulling you back.

“But,” he continued, voice low and quiet, so soft yet somehow so chilling, “I really don't like you doing this.”

Your heart felt as if it were pounding out of your chest. Your breathing grew quicker.

He tilted his head downward, resting his forehead against the back of your neck. The final words came out wavering, almost a whisper.

“So… you’ll stop this, won’t you?”

You swallowed. Your response came out instinctively, the dread you felt having easily defeated your stubbornness.

“O-okay,” you stuttered as you spoke, “I'm sorry, I didn't… I didn't mean to make you…”

The pain came to an abrupt stop, his entire body relaxed with a heavy sigh of relief.

“Ah, haha,” this time, he squeezed you in his arms only enough to convey affection. “I was worried for a moment there.” His voice immediately shifted back to its usual timbre, soft and soothing. “I’m glad you weren’t too upset.”

You shook your head, eyes still wide with fear, needless to say struggling with the psychological whiplash of the rapid shift in the atmosphere.

If he noticed your stiffness, he didn’t say anything, instead opting to affectionately rest his head on your shoulder, leaning his face against yours. “Well, it’s probably too late to walk anyway… and you’re probably tired, too. Hm…” he paused for a moment, then lifted his head, tilting it up to the sky. “We can appreciate the beauty of the night while being sedentary, though. Say, are you familiar with the constellations?”

You struggled to give a verbal answer. “A-ah, well, I…” You swallowed.

“Ah, that’s alright. I know them very well. Right now, hmm… see that one directly above us?”

He started to point up, you let your gaze follow his direction as he began to ramble on about this and that star. Most of the time, you found that soft-spoken but avid enthusiasm rather endearing — although in that moment, you found it a bit difficult to appreciate.

“And a little to the right, those four that form a bit of a square shape, that’s—hey, are you cold?”

“Mm?” You gave your best attempt to smile, knowing he could at least see the side of your face. “I, uh, I guess… why…?”

“You’re just shivering pretty badly,” he replied. “You should have said something. Here…”

He leaned backwards, grabbing the blanket atop your shared makeshift sleeping bag, pulling it over and wrapping it around the both of you, covering you from the night wind that, in reality, barely even did anything to alleviate the sweltering summer heat.

“That better?”

You nodded. “…Yeah.”

“Mm, good. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

Once you nodded, he wrapped his arms around you again, pointing back up at the sky and resuming his lesson.

Xingqiu

“There’s a yearly festival going on tonight.”

You were already irritated, but the cheerfulness in Xingqiu’s voice when he came bounding into the room certainly did not help.

He quickly made his way over to where you sat, leaning over to the side to better look at your face.

“It’s one of the most exciting ones the harbor holds, in my opinion. We should go!”

Silence. You said nothing in reply, only curling your fingers into fists, clenching your jaw and looking down at the floor.

A few seconds passed as he processed your response, or rather, lack thereof. Given the dispute that had taken place a few hours ago, you were certain it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out.

“Ah… aha… surely you’re not still upset about earlier, are you?” He tilted his head, the smile on his face unwavering. “Come on, this will be fun. It’s only for a few days, so we should really make the most of it.”

More silence. Even though you didn’t speak, you didn’t try to hide the spite and irritation on your face.

He then crouched down to get face-to-face with you. His smile was still there, but his eyebrows shifted to an expression of displeasure, the top and bottom halves of his face seemingly misaligned.

“You’re not going to let some silly little disagreement ruin your whole day, are you?” He reached out, patting the top of your head. “Come on, now, you’re more mature than that.”

You almost snapped at him, but you held your tongue. You had become increasingly aware of the subtle ways he seemed to manipulate your thoughts and feelings, slipping in little choices of words to have very specific effects, like with the last thing he’d just said. It irritated you to no end — much more so how often it worked, only for you to realize it later on.

But not today. You were going to be firm, resolute, not let him influence you, so you told yourself. You huffed a heavy breath, crossing your arms and jerking your head out from under his hand.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his expression shift — his eyes narrowed, his smile fell, and you heard the soft -tch of disapproval as he stood upright — only for his face to shift back to a pleasant expression as quickly as it had fallen to an unpleasant one, a degree of composure worthy of being called a honed and trained skill.

He sighed, overdramatically so, holding his hands out palm-up at each side and shaking his head. “And here I was trying to do something to make you happy. Oh well.”

He turned on his heel away from you, facing the door.

“How unfortunate. I suppose I'll just have to go by myself.”

He began to walk towards the exit, each step deliberately slow, an unmistakable smugness to his eloquent, dramatic way of speech.

“Of course, I'm sure my father will ask where you are...” he sighed again, shrugging his shoulders. “I'll just have to tell him that the spouse he found for me is so very disagreeable.”

You clenched your teeth. You could feel it coming, knew exactly what the next words out of his mouth would be. You nearly trembled with how hard your muscles tensed.

He paused his steps right at the edge of the door, and without bothering to look over at you, in a voice just so perfectly quiet, he added—

“I'm sure that will have a positive effect on your family’s standing with mine.”

You clenched your jaw. There it was. The one card he always held, an instant defeat.

“Wait…”

The word came out of your mouth on impulse. You winced at your own failure, but it wasn’t as if you had much of a choice.

Then he decided to turn around.

“Oh?” He tilted his head, cheerfulness returned to his voice and expression. “You’ve changed your mind?”

You shuffled over to where he stood, keeping your gaze to the ground. “…Yes. I’ll go.”

“…”

There was a pause. His eyes were half-lidded, the look on his face and the heavy tension in the air making it obvious what was expected of you.

But again, choice was not a luxury you had. You swallowed your pride.

“…Sorry for… being like that.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, that? It’s no big deal, really. I’m not upset at all.” Then, he extended the same hand out to you. “You’re ready, then?” He smiled, this time seemingly back to a genuine cheer. “I already have a route planned out to get us to all the best spots in one night.”

You nodded, taking his hand in yours.

“Sounds great.”

[pupyuj]

[cw: dubcon, manipulation, age gap (legal ofc?!), mommy kink, dacryphilia, bondage]

here i am again with another wony thought of mine 😭 i’ve been seeing a lot of wony asks from you guys so here’s something a lil extra on top of me working on the wony stuff ya’ll have been sending/have sent before :] this is a very specific scenario i hope you guys don’t mind LMAO

wony’s never beating the mommy’s girl allegations i fear!

ehehe heiress!wony with you as her mentor figure :(( you’re one of her rich grandfather’s closest associates and since the man’s company was going to get hand over to her soon, it only made sense for the old man to put someone closer to her age as her mentor 😚 but you were still way older, way more mature—and not only was your position intimidating but also the way you carried yourself inside your job and also outside of it simply made you irresistible to wonyoung… so irresistible that she doesn’t say anything when one day, you put your hand on her thigh while you were teaching her your ‘ways’… and it all starts from there really 😋

she would literally do anything for you once everything was said and done and you’ve got her wrapped around your fingers :(( don’t wear anything underneath her little skirt for easy access? yes, mommy. wear whatever outfit you want her to wear for that day? yes, mommy. carry a vibrator inside her cunt and keep up the ‘good girl’ act no matter how good or bad it feels? yes, mommy. talk properly on the phone while you’re pleasuring her sensitive little clit? yes, mommy.

ah, speaking of “mommy”… it’s like she doesn’t even know your name anymore! pretty thing learned fast… you were fucking her on her bed one day—her laptop and all her paperwork pushed aside haphazardly—and she saw how a sick smile formed on your face when she let “mommy” slip out and ever since then it’s all she called you bcs you loved it… what a good girl 🥺 and wony knows better than to speak long conversations with you in public bcs if a single person in the company even hears her say “mommy” there were going to be a lot of questions… and she knows you had enough on your plate! also loves quickies in a bathroom or a small meeting room bcs she just repeatedly whispers “mommy, mommy!” in your ear and you fuck her so much better each time…

oh you’d just love pushing wony to tears, either by edging her or overstimming her… binding her hands with cuffs or some pretty silk restraints above her head and watching her struggle and cry while you fucked her from behind :(( baby’s big on begging… shaking her head profusely when she thinks she’s had enough, “no! nonono, please, mommy…!” and really, you should feel bad for treating her like a whore but it was her fault! she embarrassed you by failing to impress some colleagues of yours… this was her punishment and she has no choice but to accept it :(( “please, mommy, i’ll be good..! i’ll be a good girl, just—ah!—stop, please…” she’s so desperate since she already came so much but :(( she looks so pretty crying! with her little pout and the tears that fell like a waterfall whenever she squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed… how could you not fuck her the entire night??

you still treat her like royalty, however… she is jang wonyoung after all—it’s what she deserves! singing praises in her ear when you noticed how well she was handling all her work as the soon-to-be president of her grandpa’s company, making sure that she’s all comfortable on your lap while she’s working and pleasuring her gently to ease all her pressure… her reward for doing so well after a long day of work? well, a warm bath and some good ass shower sex ofc! 🫣🫣 only giving wony kisses and a little tease by softly massaging her pretty tits but then as soon as you get to the shower, she’s all marked up and she’s screaming “mommy!” (again) while you fuck her so good against the wall…

now neither of you would even bother getting dressed during nights like those! sitting on wony’s bed with her in between your legs while a movie played on the ridiculously huge tv she had in her room… not like you were paying attention anyway. you’d be peppering wony’s neck with kisses while she giggles.. but as soon as one of your hands sneak in between her legs, wony knows it was going to be another long night with her favourite mommy 🫣💓

[ghcstao3]

some AU rambles again :>

anyway. shadow!soap AU except soap doesn't really have any loyalty to them—doesn't have loyalties to anyone, for that matter. he operates on a self-preservation basis, for whatever outcome would benefit him the most; he doesn't care what or who he's fighting for, so long as they're the highest bidder. moral ground rocky at best, soap has a habit of completing a job, reaping the rewards, and disappearing before things get hairy.

and right now, it just so happens that shadow company is paying the most.

everything is going as expected, at first. but then the betrayal happens—and while soap doesn't care, doesn't feeling anything about it, he does wish someone would have told him beforehand. because now, dealing with the fallout, that need for survival presents him with two options: stay with the company that pays him well, or decrease his chance of getting killed by the 141 by ditching the company’s side.

because while the 141 is small, they're also mighty. soap has witnessed how efficient they are and, ultimately, decides that it's their side he'd rather be on. he does some mental calculations, and figures his benefit lies with the side that was betrayed. so, during that initial fiasco, soap follows ghost to las almas.

the bastard, however, is incredibly good at getting away—but after searching for the right channel and pestering and persuading the lieutenant some, ghost reluctantly agrees to let soap tag along, so long as he can make it to the cathedral on his own. and then, maybe then, he'll consider soap one of their own, at least temporarily.

obviously that's what soap wants, so soap does. he demonstrates his competence ten times over, proves he has no qualms with killing other shadows, and eventually makes it to the cathedral—all while being an unabashed flirt with ghost. he takes great joy in doing it, getting to hear the eye rolls in ghost's unimpressed replies, and see his irritation when they finally meet up.

soap does mean it, though; ever since he'd first met the man, soap knew he was going to make advances at one point or another. ghost was a tree he damn well wanted to climb. but it appears ghost has no mutual interest.

anyway, so on so forth, at some point ghost has a close call and for the first time since maybe childhood, soap does something self-sacrificial to save him after a lot of inner turmoil. thankfully, they both survive in the end, and soap realizes he has feelings going beyond a basic attraction—and learns that ghost had started feeling the same too, eventually, he'd just been reluctant to indulge since he hadn't thought soap trustworthy just yet. after all, he'd switched sides like it was nothing.

after everything is said and done, soap still operates with his selfish mindset, and still refuses to owe loyalty to others—others except for ghost, to whom he willing hands his heart; his entire being.

[nerdallwritey]

About to Strike (Part 2)

***IMPORTANT! PLEASE NOTE: This is Part 2 to Part 6 (it makes sense, I promise) of my Beauty and the Bard series! Find Part 1 of this chapter here. If you'd rather read it all in one go, it's also posted to AO3.

Summary: “Oh,” he said smoothly, his features settling into a seductive smirk. “Giving me a ring so soon, my sweet? I’m flattered.” He plucked the ring from your hand and attempted to slide it onto his fingers. “Alas,” he sighed dramatically, “it’s too small - something I've never had trouble with in the past.” You made a face and smacked him lightly on his bicep, causing him to laugh. He caught your hand in his and examined your fingers. “I suppose you’ll have to wear it instead.”  He slid the ring onto your pinky gently.  It was a perfect fit.  The two of you stared down at it for a moment, a quiet tension hanging in the air. “Mine,” he breathed, turning the ring over and over around your finger.  “Yours,” you confirmed, bringing a hand to his cheek and looking him in the eyes. OR You and Astarion have a room to yourselves at the Last Light Inn. What happens next?

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 21.3k (This particular part is 10.6k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex,piv sex, oral (male receiving), hand job, vaginal fingering, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, mild angst, protective Astarion, soft Astarion, whimpering Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), lots of party banter, AND JAHEIRA!! Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 and 2 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 Last chance to go back to Part 1 of this chapter!

a/n: So sorry to be posting another tumblr two parter. Once I started writing, I simply couldn't stop. Thank you if you made it this far! Your reward is once again smut! I hope you all enjoy :) (Thank you to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!)

The room was fairly cozy; a full sized bed was made neatly in the back left corner by a door that led out into the wrap-around porch that surrounded the inn, while an upholstered couch sat in front of a large window, and a storage chest was hidden behind an ornate screen, full of alchemical materials and a few gold pieces. 

You set your backpack down and removed your armor, taking note of the contents of the room and pausing when you saw Astarion on his hands and knees by the bed. 

“What are you doing?” you asked, shutting the curtains on the window and raising your eyebrows at him as he held his ear to the ground. 

“Shh, shh, shh, quiet darling,” he said softly and knocked on the board below his ear. His eyes lit up when the wood made a hollow sound. “Just as I thought!” He sat up on his knees and pried at the edge of the board until it lifted to reveal a small hiding cubby for valuables underneath. He flashed you a winning grin before reaching his arm down into the hole blindly.

You sat on the bed to get a better angle as you watched and leaned forward to brush your hands through his hair. 

“Aha! Found something!” he said assuredly before retracting his arm to share his findings with you. He opened his hand to reveal a crumpled letter and a tarnished ring. 

You snorted. “A thrilling yield,” you said, patting his shoulder, “well done.”

Astarion let out a frustrated exhale. “Maybe the ring is worth something?” he tossed the letter aside, which you picked up and scanned quickly. 

“This Ketheric Thorm guy seems to be no joke,” you said absently, reflecting on the contents of the letter. The author wrote of feeling stuck at the inn on their way to Baldur’s Gate, and of how the people from the nearby village were on edge whenever they were asked about Ketheric. It had clearly been written long ago.

Astarion had one eye closed and inspected the ring closely. “Yes, yes, he’s a brute and a hellion, blah blah blah, we can worry about that tomorrow.” He opened his eye again and turned to you. “Tell me, dear, what does this say?”

He handed you the ring, which was ice cold when you held it in your palm. You sensed that it was full of ice magic, and took a closer look at the inside of the band. A series of names had been scratched out, one after the other. The last word, however, was untouched, and not a name.

“‘Mine,’” you read aloud. 

Astarion was already up and looking for more items hidden within the room. “You don’t need to lay claim to it,” he said, inspecting an emerald ring that he found on the dresser, “it’s worthless. You can have it.”

You laughed. “No,” you said, getting up and walking over to him. You held the ring between your thumb and index finger, angling it in front of his face to where the inscription could be read in the candle light. “Mine,” you repeated. 

“Oh,” he said smoothly, his features settling into a seductive smirk. “Giving me a ring so soon, my sweet? I’m flattered.” He plucked the ring from your hand and attempted to slide it onto his fingers. “Alas,” he sighed dramatically, “it’s too small - something I've never had trouble with in the past.” You made a face and smacked him lightly on his bicep, causing him to laugh. He caught your hand in his and examined your fingers. “I suppose you’ll have to wear it instead.” 

He slid the ring onto your pinky gently. 

It was a perfect fit. 

The two of you stared down at it for a moment, a quiet tension hanging in the air.

“Mine,” he breathed, turning the ring over and over around your finger. 

“Yours,” you confirmed, bringing a hand to his cheek and looking him in the eyes. 

His hand came up to meet yours and his eyes were half lidded when you closed the distance and kissed him fiercely. Your tongue flicked out to prod at his bottom lip and he gladly opened for you with a rumble low in his chest. He pulled you closer by the hips and shuffled you backwards toward the bed.

“Mine,” he repeated between breaths. “You’re mine,” he growled and pushed you backwards with enough force to make you fall onto the bed. You yelped gleefully and repositioned yourself to be more comfortable as he climbed on top of you. He continued to kiss you eagerly; all over your face, jaw, and throat.

“Aren’t you…” your breathing was heavy and your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, “aren’t you scared of hurting me?”

Astarion paused his kisses and pulled back to look at you. “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all,” you exhaled, pulling him back down by the collar of his shirt and kissing him clumsily as you threw your arms around his neck. 

He moaned weakly against your mouth. “I’ve missed you,” he said, moving down to drag his fangs along your throat. 

“Bite me,” you sighed, angling your head to give him better access to feed. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” he cooed and clicked his tongue. “If this night continues how I think it’s going to, then I’d rather taste you-” he moved his mouth to your ear and said lowly, “-while I’m inside of you.”

You shivered and threw your hands over your face, whining pathetically. “From anyone else, that would have been terrible.”

“Mmm,” he hummed as he nuzzled his nose along your jawline. “But you can’t leave now. I’ve given you a ring, which you’ve foolishly accepted.”

“Ah,” you nodded slowly, “trapped by societal expectations. Curses!” You held your fist up to the sky, cursing no one in particular. “Though, that means you’re trapped with me, too.”

Astarion continued kissing you, making a noise of affirmation against your mouth. “A shame, considering I can’t stand you,” he rolled his hips, causing you to inhale sharply when you felt how hard he already was. “Ignore that, that has nothing to do with my hatred for you.”

“I can tell,” you teased, palming at his shirt. 

He took the hint and sat up to pull the fabric over his head.

You watched him, your eyes roaming all over his unfairly beautiful body, until they landed on his left thigh and you gasped. 

“You’re bleeding!” 

“I’m what?” Astarion looked himself over, but fell backwards when you sprang off the bed to run towards your backpack.

“You’re bleeding,” you said again, shuffling back over to him with your bag in hand and rummaging through your belongings to find the salve and bandages you’d been using on your own wound. 

Astarion now saw the crimson stain on the front of his leg, complete with a slash through the fabric of his pants. “And I just mended these,” he sighed.

“Take them off,” you instructed, tapping his right thigh.

He smirked. “Are you sure, darling? You might like what you see.”

You gave him a look that said “I’m being serious,” and he groaned.

“Fine.” He stood and undid the clasps of his trousers before shimmying out of them and dropping them ungracefully onto the floor next to him. He sat back down on the bed and you did your best not to stare at his erection. He rolled his eyes. “It’s not going to bite you,” he said. “Though I certainly intend to.” He raised his eyebrows seductively.

You nodded absently at his comment, to which he muttered, “Oh, you’re no fun,” and began to assess his wound. It looked as though it had stopped bleeding hours ago, but the fact remained that he had gotten injured in the first place. You got up again and walked over to the wash basin in the corner of the room to retrieve water to clean the blood. 

“When did you get this?” You knelt in front of him with the wet cloth and began to gently dab at the injury. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

He shrugged, watching your hands. “I suppose I got it from one of those cultists we battled earlier. But my armor was too dark to see the blood.”

“You didn’t feel it?” you asked.

Astarion laughed humorlessly. “I’ve felt more pain in my life than anyone should ever have to.” Your hands froze at that. He sighed. “I may have felt something slash me, but obviously it wasn’t enough to take me down.”

“Obviously,” you smiled up at him sadly. 

He looked back at you fondly and brushed his fingers across your cheekbone. Then he furrowed his brow. “If I’m not mistaken, you know a healing spell or two that could make quick work of this scratch.”

It was hardly a scratch. An injury like this would have downed a weaker man. Or at least made it harder for him to walk. It wasn’t a very deep wound, but you had no doubt that it had been painful.

You felt your cheeks go red. “I do have some healing spells…”

“But…?”

“But… you took such good care of me while I was healing, I feel like I should return the favor.” You looked back up at him shyly. 

He was watching you smugly and sitting back on his hands. “Go on then,” he nodded his head towards the salve you were about to spread over the wound. 

You pressed your lips into a line and focused on covering the entire injured area tenderly, but effectively. “I can still cast a healing spell if you’d prefer.”

“Oh no, dear,” his laugh was real this time, “I’d much rather experience your soft touches and longing glances than one quick blip from the weave.”

“I always knew you only wanted me for my soft touches and longing glances,” you teased. 

“Call me old fashioned,” he shrugged with a smirk. 

“Astarion!” you gasped, reaching for the salve and spreading a generous amount on his thigh. “You shouldn’t call yourself old. You don’t look a day over two hundred and fifty!”

“Very funny,” he narrowed his eyes at you. “But I’m not two hundred and fifty!”

You tilted your head, concealing a smile. “You’re not? My apologies.” 

“And to think I was going to allow you to have sex with me tonight.” He sat up and crossed his arms. “Pity. Your loss.”

As an act of rebellion, you reached forward and squeezed his cock through his underwear. Astarion let out a pathetic whine and his entire body tensed. 

He looked at you and furrowed his brow. “Warn a man, would you?”

“Sorry,” you said genuinely, hiding behind an awkward smile. 

He bounced his left leg, bringing your attention back to the wound. “Now hurry up and wrap my damn leg.” 

You nodded and began to wind the bandages you’d collected around his thigh. “Is this tight enough?” you asked after a few wraps. 

Astarion nodded, once again watching your hands. “Yes, darling. You make a marvelous nursemaid.”

Your eyes wandered as you continued to wrap the wound. His thighs were more muscular than you’d ever noticed. Being this up close and personal with them made you appreciate just how powerful he was. You’d never admit that to him, lest it go to his head, but in these past weeks since you’d met him, all the running, and fighting, and crouching in preparation to strike enemies, had really paid off. 

Hesitantly, you leaned forward and kissed the tender skin on the inside of his thigh. 

He inhaled shakily in response. “Easy,” he said on an equally shaky exhale. 

Slowly, you placed another kiss inside his thigh, higher this time, all the while still wrapping his wound. You watched his face intently.

He was focused completely on you, his pupils blown wide.

You kissed him again, even higher. “Does that feel nice?” you asked.

“Don’t be si-illy,” he rolled his eyes but his voice caught when you kissed him again. “Of course it feels nice.”

“Good,” you smiled and licked a stripe from the middle of his thigh, up to the top, bringing your face dangerously close to his bulge. You were pretty sure you saw it twitch.

Astarion shuddered. “Gods above…”

You tucked the bandage into itself and tugged it a little to make sure it was sturdy. When you were satisfied, you stood up fully and wrapped your arms around Astarion’s neck.

“There,” you said quietly, stepping between his legs. You watched his mouth before finding his eyes again. “All better.”

Astarion nodded wordlessly, watching your mouth in turn.

“Tell me next time you’re hurt,” you leaned your forehead against his.

“Careful what you wish for, darling,” he purred. “I may willingly step in front of an arrow if it means I get to have your attention all to myself.” He went to kiss you but you pulled back with a laugh.

“As if you don’t always have my attention.”

He smiled and shrugged. “Sometimes you speak to the others.” He pouted, adding, “It’s awful.” 

You mirrored his pout. “Poor thing.”

He pulled you closer by the hips and kissed your clothed stomach. “Enough stalling,” he reached for the hem of your shirt. “I’ve waited long enough to have you again.”

When he went to pull your shirt up, you halted his wrists. He looked up at you curiously.

“What’s the matter, my sweet?”

You took a step back and fiddled with the hem of your shirt. “It’s nothing.”

Astarion raised an eyebrow at you. “Somehow, I don’t believe that.”

You exhaled through your nose. “It’s just that… well… I know you’ve seen every part of me-”

“Yes.”

“-and that you liked what you saw.”

“Oh, yes.”

“But now…” you waved your hands through the air, trying to say what you wanted to say without sounding stupid. “Now I’ve got this scar.” You held a hand to the wound on your right side. 

It had been a few days now that you’d gone without wrapping the injury. The skin had healed and no longer bled, now it was just a matter of stretching and continuing to let your body heal itself. But it also meant that you saw the remnants of your near death experience every time you looked down. Not to mention the twin wound on your back. You didn’t like seeing the scar, which honestly could have been much more gruesome, but it only served as a reminder of how badly you’d messed up that day. You hated remembering the terrified look on Astarion’s face when he cradled you on the battlefield, or the way he held you close as he ran for help. The whole thing was just… ugly.

And yet, Astarion laughed. 

“You seem to forget who you’re talking to, darling.”

You scrunched your nose at him. “Your scars are a horrible reminder of everything you’ve gone through at the hands of that horrible man. Mine are from a mistake I made that scared the hells out of the person I l- care for the most. You’re a survivor, I’m just… a problem.” 

“Dearest, you’re someone who also survived.” Astarion stood from the bed. 

You avoided his gaze. “But it’s my fault it happened in the first place. You didn’t sign up for this.” You gestured to your torso and rested a hand over where the scar was hidden under your shirt. 

“No,” he said softly, bending to kiss your neck. “But you’re someone who I’ll choose again and again, regardless of some trivial blemish.”

You froze and watched him pull away, noting that soft look in his eye that you loved so much. “Really?”

He rolled his eyes and placed his hands on the hem of your shirt again. “May I?”

You twisted the ring on your pinky to distract yourself. “Okay.”

Astarion bent to kiss your lips softly, then carefully pulled the shirt over your head. 

The scar cut diagonally across your appendix region, pink and shining ever so slightly in the candle light.

“Do you know why I love this scar?” Astarion sank to his knees before you, never breaking eye contact with you. 

Your breath caught in your throat. Instead of making some sort of snarky remark about what he’d just said as a means of deflection, you merely shook your head. 

“I love this scar-” he leaned forward to kiss the tender skin, “-because, like your heartbeat, it means you're still here.” He kissed across your stomach. “With me.” He took your hand and fiddled with the ring on your finger. “Mine.” He looked up at you smugly.

You let out a breathy laugh. “You’re going to be insufferable about that, aren’t you?” 

“Absolutely,” he said, narrowing his eyes seductively and standing up to kiss your mouth again. 

You whimpered lamely when he slid his tongue into your mouth and turned to push you gently onto the bed. Once you were comfortably lying among the pillows, he climbed on top of you again and continued kissing you slowly. 

“Are you okay?” he asked against your lips.

“Uh huh,” you exhaled, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Good,” he whispered, and rolled his hips against your pelvis, reminding you of his desire.

You tangled your leg around his. “Astarion…” you sighed.

He was kissing across your jaw, rolling his hips slowly. “Yes, sweet girl?”

“I want to try something,” you placed a hand on his chest to gently signal for him to stop his kisses.

“Oh?” he smirked. “Feeling experimental, are we?”

You nodded shyly, then pushed lightly on his shoulder to get him to pull away from you. “Take my spot,” you said, sitting up and gesturing for him to lie down where you had just been. 

“What are you planning?” he asked with a smile and obediently took your place at the head of the bed. “Riding me again? Bondage of some kind? Or perhaps something you read in one of Shadowheart’s cheap paperbacks?”

You sat back on your knees between his legs. “I told you that you took such good care of me when I was hurt,” you rubbed your hands up and down his thighs, careful to avoid his wrapped cut, “now it’s my turn to take care of you.”

Astarion raised an eyebrow. “Is it, now? And I’m assuming this doesn’t involve wrapping some other wound I haven’t noticed.” 

You shook your head. “Do you trust me?”

He let out an amused breath through his nose. “Of course I do.” Then he added, “But don’t make me regret it.”

You grinned at him and marveled at the way he watched you, so open and unafraid. It made your heart soar. You cleared your throat. 

“I’ll need your help,” you dipped your head bashfully. 

“Anything,” he said, not taking his eyes off your face. 

You leaned forward and kissed his clothed cock.

“Ohhh,” he sighed blissfully. “You’re very sweet, darling, but you don’t have to-”

“I want to,” you said, kissing him again.

Astarion closed his eyes and arched his back a little, chasing the warmth your lips left behind. When he opened his eyes, he looked almost embarrassed by the neediness his hips had given away.

“Please,” you said softly. “I want nothing more than to take care of you, my love.”

He remained silent as he considered your offer.

“Show me how,” you hooked your fingers under the waistband of his underwear and felt him shiver beneath you.

Then you watched the mask go up with a seductive arch of his eyebrow. “Yes, I suppose we can give it a try,” Astarion said, his voice airy and detached. 

You immediately crawled up the bed to hover over his face. He looked back at you with a alluring smirk. “Hey,” you said, kissing the corner of his mouth. “It’s me.” You brushed his cheek with the back of your knuckles. “You’re safe.”

Astarion stared at you before shaking his head mildly and smiling. “I know,” he said. “I want this.”

You bent and kissed him deeply, reaching a hand up to massage the tip of his left ear. 

He moaned quietly and you felt his hips bump yours, seeking friction. “Please,” he whispered.

You gave him a sideways smile before shimmying back down his body and hooking your fingers under his waistband again. 

“Wait,” he interrupted. 

You paused. “What’s wrong?”

He pouted - something you realized he did quite a lot, now that you thought about it. “I miss your breasts.”

You snorted and crawled up to him once more. “Would you care to do the honors?” You hovered above him, low enough that he could reach behind your back and undo the clasps of your bra. 

“More than anything,” he murmured. Almost as soon as he answered was the clothing off your body and on the floor next to the bed. He sat up a little and took one of your nipples into his mouth.

“Hey!” you laughed and pushed him away. “Bad.” You pointed a scolding finger at him. “I’m supposed to be pleasuring you.”

Astarion smiled, half lidded. “Apologies, darling. You’re too delicious, and I’ve missed your taste.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you deflected and tried once more to travel down his hips. “Is this okay?” you asked, once more hooking your fingers under his waistband.

“Yes, my sweet.” His voice was soft and genuine, with the slightest twinge of eagerness. 

You nodded and pulled at his undergarments, working them down his hips and onto the floor next to you. When his cock emerged, it was red and swollen, leaking precum at the tip. You tried not to look intimidated by this new, somewhat daunting task that laid before you, but Astarion saw your expression and laughed. 

“Is it as pretty as you remembered?” he asked, barely containing his mirth. 

“Gorgeous,” you teased. “Now tell me what to do.”

He laughed again. “Well, when I was pleasuring another man, I’d start with my hands. They usually enjoyed that.”

You tilted your head to the side. “But is that what you like to start with?”

“I-” he paused. “A good question. I was rarely on this end of things. But… Yes, I do enjoy your hands on me. You’re warm. And you moisturize.”

Now you laughed. “Glad you noticed.”

“You’re wonderfully soft, my dear,” he confirmed. “Now… do you remember what I’ve shown you before?”

“Yes,” you said and reached forward, taking his shaft into your hand and squeezing slightly. 

“Ah,” Astarion shut his eyes and smiled. “Good.”

You moved your hand upwards towards the head and twisted, gathering some of his precum and spreading it down his length as you brought your hand back down. 

“That’s it,” he said softly, his eyes still closed. “The tip is particularly sensitive.”

You nodded, not that he could see you, and raised your hand up again to swipe your thumb over his slit.

“Oh, yes, that feels amazing,” he opened his eyes to watch you with a lopsided grin. “May I show you something?”

“Please,” you said, pulling your hand away. 

“No no,” he shook his head and lifted himself up with one arm. “Give me your hand,” he held his out and you allowed him to guide you back towards his cock. “Right here,” he said, leading your hand to the underside of the head where it connected with his shaft, “feels marvelous when you stroke it gently. Like this.” He took your thumb and ran it over the skin lightly, back and forth. He exhaled, blowing cool air into your face before lying back down. “Just like that,” he sighed, his voice gravelly. 

Feeling brave, you kept lightly stroking the area and spat into your free hand before wrapping it around his length and pumping up and down. 

Astarion inhaled sharply at the sensation. “I see you’re not completely in the- ah- the dark.”

You smiled. “I may have been reading some of Shadowheart’s cheap paperbacks, yes.”

He laughed airly. “You’re adorable.” 

“Am I?” you asked mischievously before repositioning yourself between his legs so that you were now lying on your stomach, your hands never stopping their motions. You leaned forward and replaced the hand at his tip with your tongue, swiping back and forth repeatedly. He tasted of salt and sweat and something that you’d describe as distinctly Astarion.

His body jerked involuntarily. “Why you…” He leaned up to look at you and noted the glee in your eyes. “Cheeky,” he chuckled. 

You kissed the tip of his cock and licked at his slit, which was still weeping precum. 

“Unf,” Astarion whined. 

You hummed lightly. “Does that feel good?” Your left hand was still pumping up and down, and you bent to kiss the underside of his cock.

“Yes,” he sighed, reaching forward to twist a hand into your hair. “But darling,” he squeezed his eyes shut, “I may need more.”

“Would you like my mouth?” you asked bluntly.

He eyed you curiously. “Do you really want to?”

You rolled your eyes and licked his slit again. “No, clearly not.” 

Astarion laughed shakily. “Then, if you’re offering, there’s nothing I’d like more than your mouth.”

“Good,” you smiled. “You’ll have to help me. There’s only so much a paperback can teach you.”

“I don’t know, what you were doing felt pretty good,” he smiled.

“I’m being serious,” you said. “I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

“How sweet,” he twisted his hand more tightly into your hair. “Of course I’ll help, sweet girl.”

You turned your head towards his hand in your hair and kissed his wrist. “What first?”

“First,” he said, “you need to relax. Let go of the tension in your shoulders.”

“Okay,” you nodded and focused on relaxing your muscles. “I just want to get this right.”

“And you will, pet, but I can promise you that this will be much more enjoyable for both of us if you’re out of your own head.”

You scoffed. “Me? Thinking too much? How dare you.”

“Mmm,” Astarion hummed teasingly. “My mistake.” He took in your eager expression and chuckled again. “Rather than trying to fit me in your mouth all in one go, I find that it’s quite useful to tease first. Like what you were just doing with your kissing and licking. That feels remarkable.”

“Kissing and licking,” you repeated. “Got it.”

“And then,” he continued, “when you think you’re ready, you can slowly start taking me into your mouth. But be wary of your teeth and choking.” He thought for a moment before adding “And pay attention to me.”

“Is that not what this is?”

He gave you a mildly annoyed, but unsurprised look. “Yes, clearly. I mean, listen to your partner. Their voice and body will usually give away if they’re feeling good and what they like best.”

“Kiss, lick, mouth, careful of choking, listen to you. I think I can do that.”

“Teeth, darling,” he said, flashing his fangs, “don’t forget to mind the teeth.”

“You never do,” you teased.

He smiled, but you observed some hesitation in his face. “Really, darling, you don’t have to-”

“Shush,” you said, sitting up on your knees and leaning forward to kiss his mouth. “I want to do this. You deserve to be taken care of for once.”

His eyes were nothing but fond when he bent upwards to kiss you. “Alright,” he murmured.

“Tell me if anything feels bad,” you said, repositioning yourself between his legs. “So help me gods, I’m going to make you come tonight.”

Astarion laughed. “I believe in you, darling.”

You kissed his tip again and returned your hand to pumping his shaft once again. 

“Yes,” Astarion breathed, “hands are good too.”

Boldly, you started licking long, languid strokes with the flat of your tongue up and down the head of his cock. 

Astarion’s hips jerked involuntarily. “Very good,” he groaned.

You planted a kiss where your tongue had just been, then removed your hand to lick a stripe from the base of his length up to the top. You blew softly on the saliva left behind and smiled when his thighs tensed and heard his breath catch in his throat. He sighed out your name, a blissful look on his face. You alternated between kissing and licking and paid close attention to areas that had Astarion bucking his hips, or biting his lip, or moaning softly.

His hands tightened in your hair when you licked a particularly sensitive spot. “Gods,” he focused his eyes on you, “you’re wonderful.”

You kissed him once more before saying, “I’m going to try taking you now.”

Astarion’s breath caught again, this time with anticipation. “Go slow, darling. There’s no rush.”

“Don’t you have dinner plans?” you deflected with a joke, trying not to get too in your head before taking him into your mouth.

Astarion groaned. “You are my dinner plans, you rotten woman.”

“We should stop talking now.”

“Agreed.”

You took a deep breath to slow your heart rate, which had Astarion chuckling again.

“Honestly darling, if this is too much-”

Before he could finish, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his cock and swirled your tongue in a circular motion, causing him to gasp loudly and arch his back in surprise. You giggled at his reaction, the vibration of your voice further causing him to clutch at the sheets beneath him. 

“Oh…” he breathed. “More of that, please.”

You did as instructed and added your hand to pump up and down his length. He let out a small cry of pleasure in response. You gave an experimental suck and were delighted to be met with an even louder cry of pleasure.

“Darling,” he moaned, “you’re a natural.”

You hummed a “thank you” and lowered your head, attempting to take more of him into your mouth.

“Ah,” Astarion squeaked. “So warm.”

Your hand continued to work the base of his cock while you took even more of him, experimenting with your limit. When he bumped against the back of your throat, you felt yourself gag, and pulled back.

“No,” Astarion whined, “come back…”

“Sorry,” you wiped your eyes to rid yourself of the tears that had involuntarily gathered at the corners.

He watched your hand, still pumping up and down. “Don’t apologize, dear, just come back to me.”

You studied his face, which was relaxed, save for the mild distress caused by your mouth leaving him. “You’re enjoying it?”

“Can’t you tell?” He took your chin in his hand and smiled fondly. “I think you know me well enough by now to know if I was faking it.”

You nuzzled his hand. “I would hope so.”

“Please darling,” he whispered, “you’re doing so well. Give it another go.”

You smiled, thrilled that you were able to do this for him and that he was actually enjoying himself. “Any tips for gagging?”

He brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. “Well if you’re nervous that I don’t like it, throw that thought away. The sensation of your throat constricting is heavenly.”

“Good to know,” you nodded.

“But if you don’t like the sensation, I’ve read that squeezing your left thumb can help reduce your gag reflex. And it’s worked for me when I’ve tried it.” He held up his left hand and demonstrated wrapping his other four fingers around his thumb. You swapped your left hand, which was still slowly stroking him, with your right hand, and mirrored the motion. He nodded. “That’s it.”

“Okay,” you said with a newfound confidence. You dipped your head back down and kissed the head of his cock again before taking him back into your mouth gradually.

Astarion threw his head back, a fangy smile gracing his features. “Ahh…” he exhaled.

You felt him twitch in your mouth and giggled. The vibration of that once again had Astarion humming pleasantly. Rather than seeing how far you could take him this time, you took a decent amount before lifting back up and bobbing back down. You repeated this a few times, trying to take more of him with each bob of your head. 

Astarion twisted a hand into your hair again and whined out your name. “So good… so good for me.”

When his tip bumped the back of your throat this time, you squeezed your thumb and found yourself not as rattled this time. Emboldened, you started taking even more of him, despite the tears gathering in your eyes. 

“Oh gods,” he whimpered when you let your right hand move downwards to start fondling his balls lightly. 

You hummed again before popping off of him to catch your breath. Astarion’s chest was rising and falling heavily, and the smile on his face was nothing short of euphoric.

“You better not stop,” he said through a laugh.

“Those of us still living actually need to breathe, sorry,” you licked along his shaft again before returning to bobbing up and down, with him down your throat. You swallowed involuntarily, which had him whimpering again and bucking his hips deeper. 

“Ah,” he moaned quietly. “You feel perfect. I could have you like this forever.” 

You hummed an affirmation, making his hips twitch again. 

“Don’t you…” his breathing was still labored, despite his lack of breath, “Don’t you dare make a… snide remark about being together… forever.”

“Mmm,” you said, sounding an awful lot like “Aww.” You pulled back up and swirled your tongue around the head again.

“Oh…” he moaned again. “You’ll have to… show me… the paperbacks you’ve been reading.”

You gave him a thumbs up with the hand that wasn’t currently fondling his balls and brought it back down to slide it up and down his thigh softly. Goosebumps emerged on his skin and he inhaled sharply. 

“I’m close, darling girl,” he brushed his hand through your hair encouragingly before fisting it tightly again. “Keep going.”

You could feel with your tongue as you bobbed back down that he was more rigid now than when you’d begun. He was also twitching more frequently and bucking his hips to chase after your mouth. 

He ran his free hand through his hair. “Where shall I-?”

You gave him a brutal suck before popping off with a filthy sound. “Not sure I’m ready to swallow yet,” you admitted shyly, despite a string of drool connecting you to him. Your right hand was back to twisting around his length.

He loosed a breathy laugh. “Understandable.”

“I suppose on my chest?”

He laughed again. “You- ah- suppose?”

“I don’t know!” you exclaimed. “Is that sexy? I’ve never been cum on before.”

He smiled fondly and thumbed over your lip again. “You’re always sexy, pet.”

“Liar,” you laughed, “you’ve seen me drool in my sleep.”

“And what a sexy drooler you are,” he teased.

You scowled. “Ew, don’t say that.”

He groaned, but not at your remark. “Really darling, I can’t hold on much longer.”

“Right,” you said, “chest it is.” You returned your mouth to his cock, kissing it sloppily before taking him back into your mouth as much as you could. 

You decided to start humming “Bard Song” while moving up and down, a callback to the night of the tiefling party, when he’d hummed an offkey version for you. 

“Ohh, please,” he whimpered pathetically at the humming sensation mixed with your hands on his shaft and thigh, “please.”

You took that as encouragement to hum a bit louder.

“More,” Astarion whined, “faster.”

You squeezed your hand around his length a bit harder and started increasing your speed. He, in turn, was letting out louder, less censored moans.

“Good,” he breathed, “such a good girl.” His hips began bucking wildly and you did your best to remain where you were. “I’m going to- ah- darling,” his eyes rolled back before he shut them and reached to tap your shoulder, signaling for you to stop.

You pulled back to hover over him and watched as he began stroking himself furiously. Wanting to spur him on even more, you began massaging the tips of his ears, which had him calling out your name before spilling all over your chest and his abdomen. 

The sensation was sticky and warm, and you were surprised by just how much of it there was. Normally you’d try to avoid a mess like this, but seeing the intense focus turned to pure bliss on Astarion’s face made it worthwhile in your eyes.

He opened his eyes and gave you the most radiant smile you’d ever seen. “Oh, darling,” he sat up and kissed your mouth fiercely, “that was incredible.” 

“I’m glad it was to your liking,” you smiled against his lips and kissed him again. He pulled you closer, making your chest press against his. “Oh!” you yelped, pulling back and observing how his cum on your chest had transferred onto his chest.

Astarion brought a hand up to his face and swiped it down his features as he laughed. “Not the worst thing I’ve been covered in.”

“I will not be asking you to elaborate,” you said.

“Nor would I want you to.” He sat up a little. “Let’s get you cleaned up, beautiful.”

“No, no, no,” you held a gentle hand to his chest and made him lie back down. “Allow me.” You rolled off of him and walked over to the wash basin in the corner.

Astarion sat back up to watch you. “Well,” he said airily, “one could get used to this sort of service.”

You found a clean cloth and wet it thoroughly. “Get used to it, pretty boy,” you walked back over to him, “you’re not in this alone anymore.”

“I suppose I’m not,” he chuckled. 

You began to wipe Astarion down, ridding his chest of any unwanted substance before moving down to his stomach. You gasped when you felt him lean forward and lick your chest. “What are you doing?”

“Just helping to expedite the process.” He smirked at you. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“How kind,” you said, pushing him back. “Um… did you want me to do that to you?”

Astarion blinked a few times. “Oh, no, certainly not. I mean, unless you want to!” He searched your eyes, but you scrunched your nose a little at the thought. “Yes,” he chuckled, “I find the process to be rather… I don’t know… It’s not my favorite thing. Much too salty.”

“Then… why are you doing it now?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, watching your hands clean off his stomach with the cloth, “other men liked it when I put on a bit of a show when it came to cum.”

“Well, I’m not other men.” you said, dramatically gripping your breasts firmly in both hands, then regretting it when they came away sticky.

He laughed. “Let me help you, dear.”

You allowed him to take the cloth from you and observed him thoughtfully. “Just so you know, you never have to put on a show for me.”

He met your eye, looking at a loss for words. 

“I mean,” you said quickly, “you can if you want to, but you never have to. I like you, and it’s not because of how great you are at sex.”

“Ah,” he nodded, “so you finally admit it.”

“Shut up,” you slapped his bicep gently. “You know what I mean.”

He sighed and looked at you fondly. “What ever did I do to deserve a sweetheart like you?”

“You’ve always deserved this kind of care,” you said, brushing your thumb across his cheekbone. “I’m just sorry it took so long for me to find you.”

He pressed his forehead to yours and spoke softly. “You really took your time, didn’t you? Selfish.”

You snorted and pushed him away, a devilish grin on his face. “That’s a new one, by the way,” you smiled. “‘Sweetheart.’”

He began to wipe your stomach clean, paying extra delicate attention to the area around your scar. “Like that one? There’s plenty more in the arsenal. Let’s see…” He bent and kissed your neck. “Sweetheart… sweetie… sweetness…”

“I’m sensing a theme here,” you laughed, running your fingers through his hair.

“You’re delicious,” he murmured next to your ear before biting it gently. 

“Oh, you haven’t eaten!” you exclaimed, suddenly remembering that you’d asked him to bite you earlier. 

Astarion nuzzled your neck with his nose before pulling back. “Relax, darling. I haven’t forgotten. But you have, it would seem.”

“What do you mean?”

Satisfied with how clean the both of you were now, Astarion threw the cloth back towards the washbasin. “I mean,” he brought his face close to yours, “don’t you remember when I said I wanted to taste you?”

I’d rather taste you while I���m inside of you.

Right.

“Still?” you asked.

He nodded. 

“But…” you furrowed your brow. “If this is about feeling like you owe me, cut it out. That’s not how it works anymore.”

Astarion whined. “Darling, this is the first night I’ve been in a proper bed in months. This isn’t about payment, this is about allowing my to finally fuck you properly.”

You were taken aback by that. “So… what were all those other times?”

Astarion quirked his mouth to the side. “Well, those were still me fucking you but… in the woods.”

You snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

He crashed his lips into yours desperately. “Please,” he moaned. “I need to feel you again.”

“Are you,” you smirked, “begging?”

“Darling, if I was begging, you’d know.”

“And if I say no?”

“I won’t beg,” he said, looking down his nose at you. “But don’t say no.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Okay, tough guy. If you’re still up for it, then so am I.”

“Excellent,” Astarion placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed you fiercely before flipping you onto your back. He hovered above you, still kissing you deeply, and you felt his hands reach for the waistband of your pants. He hummed into your mouth by way of asking permission, and you hummed back an affirmation. He pulled away and undid the ties on the front before pulling both your pants and underwear down at the same time. 

“You are fast,” you remarked. 

“Practice, darling,” he said before crawling on top of you and kissing you again.

“Are you even,” you said between kisses, “ready for another round?” You looked down and saw that he was already getting hard again.

“I’ve missed you,” he shrugged and kissed your throat. “It’s impossible for me to not want you right now.”

“Oh,” you said, genuinely flattered. “I’ve missed you too, my love.”

He moaned against your throat and rolled his hips against yours. “Say that again.”

“‘I’ve missed you?’”

He clicked his tongue. “Well, obviously,” he rolled his eyes. “No, the other thing.”

“‘My love?’” The phrase was met with another roll of Astarion’s hips. 

“Yes,” he whispered. “I’m yours,” he reached for your hand, which still had the ring on, and twisted it. “And you’re mine.”

“Yes, my love,” you sighed, wrapping your leg around his hip to pull him closer, “I’m yours.”

“My beautiful girl,” he bumped his nose against yours affectionately. 

You gasped in surprise when you felt him slide his fingers through your folds.

“You did miss me,” he teased. “Shall I help you feel good, darling?”

“Please,” you breathed, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

He continued to slide his fingers between your legs, spreading your slick and preparing you to take him. “No funny business tonight,” he said. “No new positions or experimental moves. I just want to feel you around me.”

“I can agree to those- ah- terms.” You stuttered when his thumb began circling your clit. “Whatever you want.”

He looked at you with an overwhelming fondness before kissing you sweetly. “Thank you, darling.”

It was then that he stuck a finger into your core slowly and you gasped, tightening your arms around his shoulders and squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Shh, shh, shh,” he cooed, “I’m preparing you to take me, my sweet. You’re going to do so well.” He began to pump the finger in and out of you slowly, curling it just so. When your body relaxed, he picked up the pace. “There now,” he said, “you’re doing so well already.”

You nodded and watched his hand move between your legs. “You can go faster.” 

Astarion smiled and picked up the pace on his pumping and circling your clit. You tensed in pleasure. 

“I’m going to add another,” he said, looking you in the eye. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you nodded and tightened your grip on him once again when he inserted the second finger slowly.

“Okay?” he asked, making sure you were alright. 

“Careful,” you said, causing him to halt his motions, “you’re being awfully nice to me.”

“Don’t ruin this,” he said flatly, and pumped his fingers into your core harshly.

“Ah!” you exclaimed with a laugh. “Sorry, sorry!”

He leaned forward and kissed your mouth again. “You’re forgiven.” When he pulled back, he scowled. “For now.” 

You laughed. “How generous.”

His fingers suddenly brushed against the spongy spot inside of you and you keened.

“There,” you moaned. “That felt amazing.”

“Good,” Astarion smirked and focused his attention on hitting that spot over and over with some force, all the while circling your clit.

That familiar tightening in your stomach started to make itself known, and you moved one of your hands to grip Astarion’s curls. “I’m close,” you said.

“Very good,” he purred and increased the pace of his hand once more. His other hand came up to tangle into your hair and he started kissing you deeply.

Your hips rolled against his hand, chasing even more friction. “Astarion,” you whined.

“Come for me, darling,” he murmured next to your ear. “You can do it. You made me feel so divine earlier, I know you can come for me too.” 

“Keep talking,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut and willing your climax to overtake you.

He chuckled lowly. “It’s been so hard keeping my hands off you while you were healing this last tenday, sweet girl. All I wanted to do was rip your clothes off, and get my mouth on you, and touch you everywhere.” You whined and bucked your hips. “I adore you, precious thing. I promise I’ll protect you from now on. So that I’ll never have to hold back again.”

The words, combined with the brutal pace of his fingers and thumb hurdled you over the edge and into your climax, which had you calling out for Astarion and gripping onto his back.

“I’m here,” he cooed. “You’re so beautiful when you let go.”

As you came back down and caught your breath, you smiled at him. “I missed that.”

Astarion scoffed lightheartedly. “And here I thought you liked me for more than how fantastic I am at sex.”

“I lied,” you teased.

“Oof,” Astarion held a hand to his heart. “If my heart were beating, surely it would break.”

You sat up and kissed him swiftly. “I adore you too, dummy.”

“I know,” he said pompously and you reached behind you and whacked him in the side of the head with a pillow. “Ow!” he exclaimed, and you laughed at the way his hair became disheveled. “Come here, you,” he growled, pinning you back on the bed and kissing you deeply once more. He ground his hips against yours, allowing you to feel how hard he had become. 

He pulled back and looked into your eyes with unrestrained desire. You looked down and saw him aligning himself at your entrance. 

“Ready?” he asked sincerely. 

“Please,” you rested your forehead against his. 

He pressed into you slowly, making you inhale sharply before you relaxed into the sensation. Astarion, meanwhile, appeared to be struggling. He’d paused, and his eyes were shut tight.

“Are you alright?” you asked, caressing his hair and brushing against the back of his ear.

“Huh?” He opened his eyes with a start, then smiled down at you seductively. “Oh, yes darling, why wouldn’t I be?”

You pursed your lips. “We can stop if something is wrong.”

“No!” Astarion’s eyes widened. “No, that’s not necessary. I’m just… overwhelmed, I think.”

“By…?”

He rolled his hips slowly and closed his eyes again. “You feel so good. It’s been too long. And I’m still not used to… this.” He opened his eyes and used his chin to gesture towards you. 

“What, my excellent breasts?” you deflected, feeling scrutinized under his gaze.

“While, yes, they are excellent,” he reached forward and squeezed your left breast for good measure, “you know that’s not what I meant.” 

“Yeah, I know,” you said quietly. “But what exactly… did you mean?”

He sighed. “I’m still figuring that out. It’s never felt this way before and I… forgot.” He rolled his hips again and your eyes fluttered closed.

“F-forgot?” 

“How good this can feel. How good you feel.” He reached for your hands and tangled your fingers together with his on either side of your head. “We’re going to go extra slow tonight. I want to savor this.” He kissed you, his tongue sliding into your mouth before he started thrusting his hips at a leisurely pace.

You moaned into his mouth. “Take your time.”

“I plan to,” he said, caressing one of your thumbs with his own. 

The two of you remained like that for a few quiet moments, the only sounds being your hitched breaths and skin slapping against skin. 

“Mmm,” you hummed, a pleased smile on your face. “This is nice.”

“This is nice,” Astarion agreed, biting your ear gently.

You sighed dreamily. “What would you usually talk to your… um… previous partners about? During sex?”

He pulled away from your ear and furrowed his brow. “Must we talk about others at a time like this?” He wet his thumb in his mouth sensually, and brought it down to your clit. 

You gasped and arched your back. “Of- of course not. I just like hearing your thoughts.”

Astarion smirked and leaned forward again to kiss your jaw. “Couldn’t you use the tadpole for that?”

You wrapped a leg around his waist. “I- ah- I guess. But it feels wrong to do that without your permission.” 

He growled against your throat and thrust into you harshly. “You always know just what to say.”

You laughed. “Liar.”

He thrust into you again. “Normally I was just trying to make the other person reach the finish line, so to speak. I’d say or do whatever was necessary to get them there.” 

“And you?”

“Oh, perish the thought. My needs were never at the forefront.” 

“My love…” you whined.

“People are much more willing to follow you around after you’ve brought them to the peak of pleasure.” He laughed a little. “Kind of like how you won’t stop following me around.”

You scoffed with a smile. “Do not compare me to someone you had to sleep with. And you’re the one who begged to be inside of me earlier. Not to mention when I had you in my mouth.”

Astarion thrust into you again forcibly. “I did not beg.” He thrust once more, changing the direction of his circles on your clit with his thumb. “Although I’m fairly certain I could get you to beg.” He flashed his fangs at you.

“Oh, please,” you said on an eyeroll.

“And there we have it,” he smirked. “I win.” 

“That was not me begging.”

“I heard a ‘please,’ didn’t I?”

“I loathe you,” you said, throwing your arms around his shoulders and pulling him down for a kiss. 

“I’m a magnificent bastard, aren’t I?” he took your other thigh and hiked it around his waist, making you lock your feet together. “Oh,” he moaned loudly, “I never want to leave this room.”

“We-”

He pressed a finger to your lips. “Do not list our many incomplete tasks right now, I beg of you, my darling.”

“You what?”

“I beg- oh shut up.” He withdrew himself from your cunt and slammed himself back in, coaxing a gleeful moan out of your throat. “Can’t you say anything sexy?”

“Hmm…” you thought aloud, closing your eyes when he began kissing your jaw again. “Sometimes, when I see how beautiful you are, I’m just dumbfounded.”

He chuckled. “Me too.”

“But I love talking to you, more than anything.”

“This isn’t really the kind of ‘sexy’ I had in mind, but do go on.”

“Even now, as you’re finally fucking me on a bed, I’m just as thrilled to hear your voice.”

Astarion gave you a questioning look. “High praise from a bard.” 

You kissed his bare shoulder. “You’re not trying to impress me, you're just… here with me. As Astarion.”

That made him pause for a moment. “Oh, believe me, dear, Astarion is trying very hard to impress you right now.” He rolled his hips at a slightly different angle, hiking you up closer to him. 

“Well- ah- it’s working. Great job.” You leaned up to kiss him and he chased your lips as you laid back in the pillows. He continued kissing all over your face and down your neck. He paused when his nose bumped the base of your throat.

“Darling?” 

An unspoken question.

“Hungry?”

He nodded against your skin, searching for a good spot to strike.

“Take what you need,” you whispered. “It’s yours.”

“Thank you.” You heard him inhale before the piercing coldness of his bite entered your veins. Your entire body tensed before you were overcome with the familiar pleasant numbness. 

“Oh, Astarion,” you groaned, raking your fingers through his hair. 

You could feel how slowly he was drinking from you, almost in time with how slowly he was still thrusting into you. He kept letting out tiny whimpers of delight, excited to finally taste you again. 

“You’re heavenly,” he said, pulling back momentarily as if to catch his breath. “I almost forgot how much I love your flavor. So sophisticated and sweet.” He dove in again, first licking the wound before biting down and continuing to drink. 

“Take as much as you like,” you sighed, bucking your hips when his thrusts started to pick up some speed. “Just don’t kill me.”

He chuckled against your throat but didn’t let up. He resumed letting out little noises of pleasure, and brought one of his hands up to paw at your breast. The other was cradling the back of your head affectionately. 

You could feel his cock growing steadily more rigid within you, the more Astarion drank. His speed was also steadily increasing, with thrusts becoming much more frequent than the slow passionate movements they’d been at the start of the encounter. 

“Astarion,” you whined, feeling yourself become more lightheaded than his usual feedings. 

“Mmf,” he said articulately before pulling back from your throat and licking the wounds to soothe the mild pain and clean excess drops of blood. When you could see his face once more, the tips of his ears were dusted a light shade of pink, and you swore there was more color in his face. His radiant smile was back, and he looked at you as if you were the sun itself. 

“As good as you remember?” you asked, laughing lightly at his expression.

“Better,” he said, surging forward to kiss you. You welcomed the coppery tang of your blood on his tongue happily. “Now, if you don’t mind, a reward.”

“Hey-” you warned.

“I want to,” he insisted. “Besides, it’s not just for you.” He laughed. “Can you imagine? How selfish are you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s see it then.”

He smirked and moved over to your ear, murmuring, “I’m going to make you come again, sweetheart.” He pulled away, looking proud of himself. “That name works in a few ways actually. Because your blood is sweet, and it comes from your heart. And because it’s quite an endearing nickname.”

You nodded. “We’ll work on your tight five and get you a slot in the Laff Riot at the Elfsong once we’re back in Baldur’s Gate.”

“Oh, hush you,” he said, quieting you with a kiss. “I feel great,” he smiled down at you, returning his hand to your clit as he continued thrusting into your core. “Don’t ever almost die again.”

“I-” you gasped at a particularly pleasant thrust, “I’ll try.”

“Good girl,” he purred, bringing his forehead to yours. “Tell me, darling, how can I help you?”

“My boobs are feeling pretty neglected, if I’m being honest.” You gave him a sideways smile. 

Astarion rolled his eyes. “‘Boobs,’” he mocked. “I suppose I can do that.” He smirked before lowering down to your left breast and teasing your nipple lightly with his teeth. His left hand came up to massage your right breast as his right hand continued to circle your clit. He sucked at the bud of your nipple rather harshly, causing it to pebble in his mouth and his tongue swirled around it greedily. 

You arched your back in pleasure and tried pulling him closer with your legs still locked around his middle. He hummed against your skin and turned his attention to your right breast with his mouth. 

“You’re so good,” you said wistfully, your eyes closed. “I love this.”

“Ah luff thish too,” he said, licking around your right nipple and making you laugh. 

“Keep going,” you said, tapping your foot against Astarion’s bare ass, encouraging him to thrust faster. 

He let out an amused breath through his nose before picking up the pace as requested. His thumb on your clit sped up as well.

“Oh gods…” you moaned, digging your nails into his scalp. You could feel yourself getting close again, just a little more and you’d be tumbling over the edge into your climax. “Talk to me,” you said desperately.

Astarion lifted his face from your nipple. “About what?” 

“Anything,” you looked at him pleadingly. “Say something sappy.” When he gave you a stupidly seductive look, you amended “And mean it!”

His face immediately fell, but his pace didn’t falter. “I need to think about this for a second.” 

You laughed. “You don’t have to, just keep going. I’m close.”

“Is this like when I made you come by telling a joke?”

“I didn’t-” you rolled your eyes. “Yes, it’s exactly like that.”

Astarion nodded dutifully and thought for a moment. “I could say something about how in these accursed shadow lands, you are my light?”

You were squeezing your eyes tight, trying to reach your peak. “That could work. Ah!” Astarion bit your nipple again lightly. 

“Hmm… no, feels too sappy. Oh.” It looked like something dawned on him. He bent forward again to kiss your neck and whined when you pulled lightly at his hair. “Earlier,” he said, sounding out of breath, “when Jaheira likened you to my mate,” he almost spat the word, “I didn’t… entirely hate it.”

You opened your eyes and looked at him. “What?” 

He nodded against you. “I like… having you around. And if some old druid likens that to procreating bears or whatever, then so be it.”

You smiled. “That might be one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me.”

“So come, gods damn you! I want to come too!”

You laughed. “Kiss me, dummy.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his face to yours. He moaned into your mouth when your tongue slipped past his lips. “Yours,” you murmured. 

Astarion growled, kissing you deeper. “Mine.”

With a few more circles of your clit and another brutal thrust from his hips, you fell into your climax, feeling him coming not far behind. Your cunt pulsed and fluttered around him, sending bursts of pleasure throughout your body. He moaned your name before collapsing on top of you, thoroughly spent. 

He smiled at you lazily. “Well darling?”

You blinked at him. 

“Performance review? From a humble bard such as yourself.”

You laughed. “The critics at the Baldur’s Gate Gazette will sing your praises for years to come.”

“Outstanding.” He kissed your chest before carefully pulling out of you and getting off the bed. 

You watched him walk to the washbasin and wet a fresh cloth before coming back and wiping down the space between your legs. 

“Here,” he said, handing you his discarded shirt from earlier.

“Are you sure?” you asked, taking the shirt and watching him wipe himself down with the cloth. 

“It smells like you when you sleep in it,” he said earnestly. “But would it kill you to move less in your sleep? You might ruin the neckline.”

“I’m going to purposely stretch it out now,” you joked. 

“Menace,” he said, sounding scandalized, before tossing the cloth towards the washbasin and pulling on a pair of loose cotton pants from his backpack. 

“Those are new,” you remarked.

He crawled onto the bed and tucked himself into your side. “Now that I’m sleeping on a bed, the protection from the leather against dirt is no longer necessary.”

“How practical,” you said, turning to face him as he pulled the blanket over the both of you. “And where did you find them?”

“I may have stumbled upon them in Gale’s belongings.”

You snorted. “You’re the menace.”

“And you like me so much,” he teased, scrunching his nose at you.

“I do,” you smiled and poked his nose before yawning.

Astarion chuckled. “Did I tire you out, darling?”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” you said, “we killed a pretty big spider earlier.”

He snorted. “I believe they’re called driders.”

“Tomayto tomahto,” you closed your eyes and scooted forward to snuggle into his chest.

Astarion hummed a vague agreement and wrapped his arms around you. “Goodnight, my sweet.” 

“Sleep well, my love. I hope you had fun tonight.” You didn’t open your eyes and instead bent forward to kiss his bare chest.

He exhaled through his nose. “That I did. Thank you.”

You smiled against his skin before your features relaxed and you drifted off to sleep. 

~~~~~

Above your sleeping form, Astarion stared at the wall, unblinking. 

A million thoughts were running through his mind, all of them revolving around you. 

He’d forgotten how good sex could be. He’d convinced himself that he was okay without it, that you were okay without it, while you were recovering, and for the most part, he was. He was happy, even! Staying by your side all day and simply enjoying your company and silly commentary had been more than enough. And it seemed that you were happy, too.

But in that time, he’d forgotten.

He’d forgotten how his feelings for you might interfere and make things… better. 

Could it always be like this?

He looked down at you, breathing steadily in his arms, and took your hand in his. He observed the ring on your pinky and twisted it a few times. He took it off of you and slipped it back on a few more times. He brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it repeatedly.

He was in big trouble. 

You’d said and done things tonight that made him feel… loved. And he’d basked in it like the sun was still high in the sky.

He’d been mulling over his feelings recently, but not really. Why should he when things were good the way they were?

The problem was that he no longer wanted things to just be good the way they were.

He wanted more. 

And he wanted you to feel as loved as he did.

Wait.

Oh no.

He was in love with you.

Fuck!

[buccini555]

𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬: "𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.𝟸"

₊˚ ໑ : How would they act after you fought with the girl who flirted with them?

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ H e a d c a n o n s!!

·̩͙ ₊ ᨦ ♡ ᨩ ໋₊ ·̩͙ 𝑭𝒕. Izana Kurokawa, Kakucho Hitto, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Rindou Haitani, Ran Haitani, Kokonoi Hajime, Inui Seishu and Naoto Tachibana

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝.𝟷 | 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝.𝟸 | 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝.𝟹

⋆ ࣪. 𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚 ˖ ࣪⭑

When Izana laid eyes on you and saw you hitting on the girl, he took a while to go get you, since he really thought she needed to learn not to insist on other people's boyfriends.

"Come on! You've hit her enough, don't you think, honey?" When he was finally going to get you off the girl, Izana would say seriously while holding your arm without much strength, deep down, holding himself back so as not to burst out laughing at the whole situation.

"Where did you learn to fight so well? I'm sure it was me, you're my smart girl." He would speak laughing, holding your face and arranging your hair affectionately, despite this, Izana would be extremely angry if you had ended up hurt.

⋆ ࣪. 𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨 ˖ ࣪⭑

Kakucho definitely didn't expect such an attitude from you until he saw you hitting the girl. At first, he was so disbelieved that he just remained without reaction, but he soon went to get you out of the mess.

"Baby? What the fuck are you doing..." He would say, pulling you away from the girl, Kakucho would be worried about you getting hurt or something, he would never fight with you, so he just calmed you down for a while.

"Look at me, my princess, don't do that again, okay? You could have gotten hurt, sweet." He would say hugging you and giving you a small kiss on your forehead, Kakucho would defend you and really wouldn't care about the fact that you attacked another girl.

⋆ ࣪. 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨 ˖ ࣪⭑

"What the hell?" The first thing Sanzu would do would be to pull you out of all that mess, he would be a little embarrassed because of that fight and he would also become worried, since he really didn't want you to end up hurting yourself for nothing.

"Damn? You're going to end up killing her, that's enough." He would say taking you off the girl and taking you to an empty place, Haruchiyo didn't like the idea of having so many people watching him, so he would take you to a quiet place.

"Listen, you could have gotten hurt, I don't want you to get involved with that kind of bitch again, it's better to obey me..." He would give you a subtle smile, kissing you warmly right after, Sanzu liked to see how far your jealousy could arrive.

⋆ ࣪. 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 ˖ ࣪⭑

Undeniably, Rindou would be extremely surprised to see you hitting a girl, even more so out of jealousy of him.

"Go! Finish her, baby!" He would shout from afar, Rindou would honestly have a lot of fun watching you win a fight, even so, it really wouldn't take him long to get you out of all that chaos.

"You've done enough here, let's go." He would pull you by the arm, speaking very quietly in your ear as he took you away from the girl.

"I didn't know you were that strong, apparently, you learned exactly what I taught you, you even deserve a reward." Rindou would tell you before pulling you by the waist and rewarding you with a kiss.

⋆ ࣪. 𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 ˖ ࣪⭑

Ran wouldn't give a damn about just a girl's fight until he realized that you were the one fighting, immediately, he would go to where you were and watch the whole mess for a while.

"That's enough, love, I believe that bitch has already learned her lesson." Holding you, he would talk laughing about the girl, even if he seemed calm when mocking the whole situation, Ran would be really worried about whether you were hurt.

"Are you hurt? If you are, you can let me finish her off myself." He would question in a threatening tone, then take you to a private place.

"You're a good fighter, hmm? You are for sure, my girl! I'm proud of you." Ran would say, caressing your face slowly.

⋆ ࣪. 𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞 ˖ ࣪⭑

Kokonoi didn't waste his time watching other people's confusion, however, he became alarmed at the same moment he realized that the one who was fighting at that moment was simply his own girlfriend.

"I think you've hit her enough, let's get out of here now." He would take you off the girl by pulling you by the arm, being careful not to end up hurting you.

"...Don't ever do that again, understand? You could have gotten hurt, I won't always be here to defend you, my sweetheart." Kokonoi wouldn't fight with you, but would just make you promise not to get involved in confessions again since he was really worried about you getting hurt.

⋆ ࣪. 𝐈𝐧𝐮𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐮 ˖ ࣪⭑

At first, Inui would be completely disbelieved to see you fighting, even so, he would rush to get you away from that girl.

"... Stop it." He would speak in a firm tone of voice, later removing you from the girl, before leaving the place, he would check if you were not hurt, if you were, he wouldn't mind cursing a little at the girl you had just attack onin front of everyone.

"I never want to see you get into fights again, especially because of me, right? I won't do it again..." Inupi would hug you and fill you with caresses until you calmed down, he certainly wouldn't waste time giving you a moral lesson, it would just make you swear never to do anything like that again.

⋆ ࣪. 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚 ˖ ࣪⭑

Naoto hates fights and seeing you in the middle of one would leave him truly beyond irritated, completely disappointed.

"Let's get out of here, now!" He would hold you tightly enough to take you off the girl, but still being completely careful, Naoto would take you away from that mess and take you to a private place.

"What did you think you were doing? That was ridiculous! I don't want to see you in that kind of situation again, are we clear?" He would spend some long and cruel hours filling your head with the most diverse moral lessons possible.

"...I love you and I don't want to see you hurt." After the sermons ended, he would speak sincerely, showing how worried he was.

[sorchathered]

You’re still the one💙

Pairing- Robert “Bob” Floyd x reader

Warnings- language, a little bit smutty, angst with lots of pining and longing.

Summary- Bob’s come back to his small town in Georgia for his best friends wedding, will their plan to bring him back together with his high school sweetheart work out? Or will it end in more heartache?

When Bob had gotten the wedding invite in the mail he’d been so thrilled, truly. His best friend Sam had done the impossible, made the long distance work through college and grad school and now finally he was marrying his high school sweetheart Millie. He was happy for them, really he was. The only thing that could’ve been better is if he was sharing this with you. This was supposed to be the two of you, conquering your goals and then winding up together, but it hadn’t worked out the way either of you planned and it had been longer than Bob knew since he’d seen your face.

Millie had asked if your old band from high school would reunite for the wedding music and you’d been over the moon, a few of you had continued to play together and occasionally doing a gig or two just for old times sake, knowing that she wanted you involved in her special day made your heart swell.

The closer the date got the more dread seemed to settle in your bones, you’d stalked Bob’s socials and sneakily asked if he was bringing a date, but the look Sam had given you when he said Bob was coming alone let you know he knew exactly what you were hoping. Maybe he didn’t have someone waiting for him in California, maybe he had even asked about you, and for the first time in almost 6 years you let yourself hope.

In his lonely little apartment in Coronado Robert Floyd was doing about as well as you. He’d thought of nothing but you since that invitation showed up in his mail, hell that was a lie; he spent most nights thinking of you if he was truly honest with himself. He was sure Sam and Millie were already plotting some elaborate scheme to push the two of you together over the wedding celebration and he had to laugh at their dedication. He still wasn’t sure how things had gotten so screwed up. Long distance had been hard, deployments, work schedules and midterms seemed to keep the two of you from ever being able to make concrete plans and eventually it felt like you two had just grown apart too much for repair.

He should’ve fought harder, any attempts to move on over the years had been a complete disaster because how was he supposed to find someone new when he was still hung up on you? Natasha always loved to pick on him about it, that one day he’d have to move on or would have to have his “rom com moment” as she called it and sweep you back off your feet but Bob figured you’d long forgotten about him by now. If he only knew that you’d been just as hung up as he was, but neither of you had been brave enough to reach out.

The wedding festivities were in full swing this week, Millie had sent you the final list of songs she wanted for the wedding and you had added a few crowd favorites as well. You missed the days of jamming with your friends, being a music teacher was so rewarding and it had been everything you’d dreamed it would be, but you couldn’t deny that you were looking forward to getting to let loose with old friends.

You were in full nostalgia mode by the time the weekend of the wedding, thinking of all the things you’d had planned for yourself way back when. You’d had your whole wedding planned out, you knew it had been silly but you’d dreamed of a party with all your friends and at the center of it the boy you’d loved since you were a little girl. Deep in the recesses of your parents attic was a hot pink sparkly notebook from senior year with a list of songs you wanted for your own wedding day, gel pen rainbow font with little cursive scribbles of Mrs. Robert Floyd and hearts doodled all over the page. But that had been another lifetime ago, and just the thought of how much time had changed you both brought tears to your eyes.

Bob was so glad to be back home, it had been ages, his mother was already fussing about how he needed to eat more and catching him up on all the town gossip. He wanted to ask about you, but she beat him to the punch; gushing about the musical the middle school was putting on and how hard you were working to make it a success. It looked like all your dreams had come true, you were doing what you loved, but his mama could see the far off look in his eyes as she spoke, she knew all too well what he was feeling.

“You should call her you know, I have her number if you want it.” She’d said softly as she touched his hand but he couldn’t look her in the eyes. “Oh Mama, too much time has passed, I’m sure she’s got someone who could treat her way better than me.” She patted his hand lovingly and shook her head, “Sweet boy, there were never two people better suited for one another than the two of you. I don’t think she ever moved on, I know you didn’t. You know…she lives in the old Macon house on Water Road, not too far if you wanted to take a walk.”

“Mama! “ he said harshly but his features didn’t match his tone at all, he was trying his best not to laugh at her persistence.

She put her hands up and laughed, “I’m just saying, the night air might do you some good. After all life is too short sweetheart.” He thought of his father, taken from them too soon and how his mother had never found anyone else. He’s been her everything, Bob had always thought that would be the same with the two of you.

She heads up for the evening and he’s left alone with his thoughts again. Her house isn’t that far, maybe 5 minutes, and it’s only 8 pm on a Friday she would probably still be awake…

Before he can really mull it over he’s slipping on his shoes and heading out the door, feet carrying him down the sidewalks and past the quaint antebellum style houses illuminated in the orange glow of the street lights until he finds himself at your door. He’s warring with himself about knocking, what the hell was he doing? He’d barely spoken to you in almost 6 years, this was stupid he should’ve never done this. As he turns away to walk down the porch steps he hears the lock click and turning of the door handle, light illuminating the porch as you poke your head out into the night.

“Robby? Is that you?” You say quietly, a small smile on your lips as you look him over with eager eyes. Time had been good to you, he’d always thought you were the most beautiful girl on earth and that certainly hadn’t changed. You weren’t a young girl anymore, your figure was all curves, he couldn’t help but tighten his fists thinking about running his hands over your voluptuous body. Snap out of it Floyd, get your shit together, he thought as you looked at him with confusion evident on your face.

“Well? You gonna come in? Your mama told me you were coming by, I’ve just been sitting by the window listening out for you.” You said as you opened the door a little wider for him to step through. “Of course she did” he muttered, shaking his head with a dark chuckle, leave it to Susan Floyd to take things into her own hands.

You raised an eyebrow at him as he continued to stand awkwardly in the doorway, “I can’t really read your faces anymore Floyd, do you want to come in or are we gonna let all the bugs into my house tonight?” Hands on your hips, sassy remark, yep you were still every bit the spitfire he remembered, that take no shit attitude clearly hadn’t gone anywhere.

“Yeah, yeah y/n I was coming by, sorry I just���I had an idea in my head of what I was gonna say and now here I am and I’ve got nothing.” He said sheepishly as he ran a hand over the back of his neck. You reached for the hand at his side and pulled him through the doorway, closing the door and scooting him in the direction of the couch. Bossy. As always.

“How about I get you a glass of sweet tea and we get all the awkward small talk out of the way, or we could just skip it if you want? I’ve been keeping up with your life through your mom but if you’ve got questions I’m happy to answer them.” You said as you shuffled down the hall to the little kitchen, Bob plopping himself down on your ridiculously comfy velvet couch. “You keep up with me?” He said in shock, he never would’ve thought you’d give him a second thought after he let everything crash and burn, maybe his mama had been right to push him this way.

“Of course I do, it’s not every day you get to be in the top 1% in your field, especially with a job like yours. I’ve always cheered you on, just didn’t think you’d ever show up here, kinda figured you’d forgotten all about me.” You said as you placed down a Mason jar of sweet tea and a tin of shortbread cookies, you’d said it so nonchalantly but he could see in your eyes the hurt was still there.

“I’ve kept up with you too, I- uh I’ve looked at your instagram, and Millie of course updates me when I ask, even if she is still pissed at me about how things ended. You uh- you look like you got everything you wanted in your career too. Mama said the school play is gonna be a big success. I know you’ve gotta be thrilled.”

You nodded, just bringing up your students brought the light back into your eyes. “They are the best, I thought it’d be weird teaching at our old school but truly it is such a joy. These kids love music, it’s so much fun watching them show off their creativity. And as for Millie…Well I’m pretty sure she and Sam have some elaborate plan to “accidentally” trap us in a closet together tomorrow until we work everything out. They’ve been oddly sneaky lately.” You laugh out, and Bob can’t help but join in, they definitely weren’t subtle but you could both agree they were damn good friends.

You both laughed and talked for hours, going through the whole tin of cookies as you caught up on each other’s lives, somewhere in the early morning hours you had fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder and Bob felt his heart stutter in his chest as he looked down at you. He’d missed this, just being with you.

You had been his favorite person for his entire childhood, how did he let things get so out of hand? It couldn’t be comfortable being propped up like that, so Bob carefully pulled you into his arms and carried you to your room. It was nearly 4 am, he would just crash on your couch like a gentleman should and make an excuse to bail when he woke up. Laying you on the bed he made to step away but you curled your fist into his shirt, murmuring “stay with me” as you pulled him closer, and how could he possibly tell you no? He toed off his shoes and slid in next to you, falling asleep to the sounds of your breathing and warm body pressed to his.

He couldn’t place where he was when he woke up, just that it smelled like coffee and pancakes and somehow he’d slept in. Upon opening his eyes it all came back to him, how you’d asked him to stay and he’d fallen asleep in your arms, he felt hot all over just thinking about it, anxiety filling his chest as he worried about how to navigate the sure to be awkward morning after conversation. Again he wondered how they’d gotten so far from where they’d begun; but one thing hadn’t changed, holding you had simply brought it all back. The feelings he had never wavered, and he was fairly sure he was even more smitten with you now after catching up than he had been before.

You were dancing around in the kitchen as you cooked, spatula acting as a microphone while Fleetwood Mac played from your phone. Clad in a tattered t-shirt and pajama shorts from the night before with your hair messily piled on your head. There was that feeling again, the heat blooming in his chest and the butterflies he’d never felt for anyone but you. It nearly knocked the wind out of him. You couldn’t be more beautiful to him than you were in this moment, he wished he could burn it into his brain forever.

You spun around to the beat but jumped almost a foot in the air when you noticed him, clutching your chest as giggles erupted from you both. “Oh! Oh my god Robby you scared the hell out of me! Did’ya sleep ok? Want breakfast?” You said gesturing behind you to the steaming pile of pancakes and bacon, he wanted breakfast for sure but he knew one thing he wanted more than that.

He crowded you up against the stove, leaning behind you to cut the burner off as he looked down at you with a small smile. “Breakfast sounds good, sweet girl, but we need to talk first.”

“Uh huh” you said and he could tell he had the same dizzying effect on you, that was good, he was hoping this wasn’t one sided.

“I had more fun with you last night than I’ve had in years, and I can’t think of why we ever stopped doing this in the first place. Well a reason that actually counts anyways. I know it’s sudden, hell you probably have a line out the door hoping for a date but-“

“Yes!” You blurted out, nodding your head as you abandoned the spatula and gripped the back of his neck to pull his lips to yours.

You’d meant it to be sweet, just a peck to let him know you wanted the same things he did, but it had been so long, and no one had ever made you feel like he did. It got heated fast, muscular arms wrapped around your waist pulling you in so tight that nothing to get between you, hands in his hair as his kisses became more urgent, opening his mouth to you as you moaned softly into his, and the noise seemed to flip a switch as he hoisted you up in his arms and carried you back down the hall to your bedroom.

It was as sweet and smooth as molasses, he unwrapped you like a present as you tugged at his clothes, you wanted him as bare as you were. He eagerly obliged, tossing his shirt and jeans somewhere across your room as he climbed back into bed and pressed you into the mattress.

“Y/n I-“

“I know baby, I feel it too. Make love to me Robby.”

And so he did, again and again until the two of you felt boneless, breakfast long forgotten and morning seeping into early afternoon.

You’d fallen asleep in his arms around one, and he knew he’d have to wake you up soon to get ready for the wedding and go home to get his suit. He just wanted to stay wrapped up in this a little longer, as much as he needed this to be real again he also knew there was so much red tape. You lived on the opposite coast from him, your career was thriving and you’d never moved away from home. He couldn’t ask you to pack away your life and move every 3-4 years with him. Distance had been what broke you apart last time, he didn’t know if he could bear losing you a second time.

When you finally stirred around 2 you popped up in a panic, you were alone in bed and it was clearly later in the day than you had expected it to be. A sick feeling washed over you, had you interpreted everything wrong? Where was he? Did he regret it and bail?

The sound of a door opening broke you from your thoughts, heavy footfalls down the hallway let you know he hadn’t actually left. He caught your watery eyes looking at him from the doorway and rushed forward to cradle you in his arms, swiping at the tears before they could fall.

“What’s going on it that head of yours? You ok?” He said as he rubbed soothing hands against your back.

“It’s stupid, I woke up alone and I thought..” you stopped and then looked up at him sheepishly. “I thought you’d left” you said with a whisper, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment.

“Oh. Aw Shit. I mean I did leave, but for just a minute to grab us some lunch and my suit for tonight, I’m sorry baby I should’ve left a note.” He looked a little embarrassed as well, he was very clearly out of practice when it came to having a partner.

“Ugh, we’re a mess aren’t we?” You chuckled out as you buried your head in his neck, he just nodded as he continued to hold you, he still didn’t know what this was but god he didn’t want to lose it.

“We probably need to figure all of this out y/n, I don’t want to pop the bubble but I can’t shut my brain off. I want this, all of it with you. I’m scared I’m gonna ruin it again.” He was grateful that you couldn’t see his face, he didn’t know if he could keep himself from falling apart if you could.

“We’ll do whatever it takes.” You pulled back to cup his cheeks so he was looking in your eyes. “We were young and stupid back then, but we can do this now. I know we can. If I have to pack up and head to California I will, I’m not saying it won’t be hard but it’s worth it.”

He fucked you slow and steady under the hot spray of the shower after that, worshipping every bit of you and definitely making you both late.

The two of you scrambled to get to the venue, making it right on time, Sam giving Bob a knowing look at his disheveled appearance when he burst into the groom's suite. When you stopped into the bridal suite to check on Millie, she made sure to pick on you for the hickey you’d tried to hide under your ear. Clearly the plan had worked, maybe not how they’d thought but the result was what they were after. You’d have to send his Mama flowers on Monday for her meddling, she’d known what was best even when the two of you didn’t.

The ceremony was beautiful, full of tears and love and Bob couldn’t help but let his eyes drift over to you, he already had plans swirling in his head of wedding rings and a future he’d thought was long lost. After you sang for the reception the band took over and Bob twirled you around the dance floor for much of the evening, he would hold these moments close until he could get you back in his arms again. It had been the perfect weekend.

A few months later you both were carrying moving boxes into his little townhouse, a new job all lined up at the local middle school and the entire summer to spend by the beach with your boyfriend. Everything had fallen into place, and if the little ring box in Bob’s back pocket had anything to do with it, he’d soon be calling you Mrs. Floyd.

🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @attapullman @bobgasm @sailor-aviator @roosterforme @sebsxphia @floydsglasses @sarahsmi13s @bradshawssugarbaby @hangmansgbaby

[lunarmoves]

moon was being more irate than usual.

well... 'irate' wasn't exactly the right word. he was just... quieter and tended to grumble more to himself when he thought you weren't listening or around. at first you figured he was just going through one of those phases of his where he preferred to observe the things around him for extended periods of time. or maybe he was thinking back to his time at the plex, the memories tinged at the edges by the fire that had consumed it whole. either way, you didn't press him and decided to just... leave him be.

you thought giving him some space would help him and eventually let him snap out of whatever funk he was in. but it only seemed to make him worse, and you had no idea why.

you didn't want to invade into his space and demand him to let you know what was wrong. it would only drive him further away, and you were all too familiar with how easy it was for him to avoid you in your own home. you didn't want to ask sun what was wrong either, as moon would definitely immediately know of your prying and would probably get upset.

so you just... continued on as normal. after all, chores needed to be done and bills needed to be paid.

and maybe that was the wrong thing to do. maybe it just made things build up and up and up until moon was overflowing in whatever had plagued him all this time.

you were woken up, one night, by a bright red light that shined directly onto your face.

you squinted up, blinking slowly as the light coalesced into two eyes with white pupils that stared down at you from above. moon's face was directly over yours, hovering not too close, but not too far either. you lifted a hand to rub at your right eye, mind sluggishly trying to catch up with what had just occurred.

"moon," you sleepily mumbled, still trying to adjust to the light, "wuzz wrong? why'd you wake me up?"

he didn't say anything, just continued to stand crouched over your figure laying in bed. you could barely make out his figure, with how dark it was. his nightcap dangled from the side of his faceplate, the bell at the end brushing lightly against your cheek. you waited a few seconds, then pulled up your blanket further to bury yourself into it. "moon, c'mon, you know i have work in th'mornin'."

you had full intentions to go back to sleep, but he didn't let you get comfortable. as soon as you'd closed back your eyes, he reached out a hand and gently shook your shoulder. you jerked back awake and gave him a look that you're not sure translated well through your sleepiness. it got him to finally speak, though.

"wake up," he whispered, giving your shoulder another small shake. you groggily blinked at him, confused. "...spend time with me."

"wuh?" you eloquently asked, then slowly blinked yourself awake once you realized how unhappy he looked. you slowly sat up. he leaned away to give you some space and you turned your body so you could face him better as he crouched down by the side of your bed. "what's wrong?" you asked again softly, as though any louder might scare him away or cause him to lock up.

he didn't answer, just reached out a metallic hand so he could hold onto your much warmer one in a tight grip. you gently used your other hand to touch the edge of his faceplate, tilting it up so he could meet your gaze.

"hey," you said gently, "tell me what's wrong. i can't help you if you don't say anything."

moon watched you for a moment, then directed his gaze back to your hand and let his thumb swipe across your skin. you let your hand fall from his face to rest in your lap. you waited, and your patience was eventually rewarded.

"you go to work," he started in a low voice tinged with static from his voice box. "you come back. you hang out with sun for hours. you get ready for bed." you tilted your head as he spoke, wondering where he was going with this. he paused for a second, as though collecting his thoughts, then continued. "you take off the lights. you go to sleep after an hour. and i am alone."

you considered his words, then his expression as he focused on avoiding your gaze. the corners of your lips downturned as it slowly clicked together in your mind what he was implying.

"oh," you breathed and moved your free hand so that it rested on top of his. you clutched at it. "i haven't been spending much time with you, huh?"

he grumbled a little and closed his eyes. "sun gets all the awake time with you." his words were no louder than a whisper—an admission he'd been ruminating on for weeks.

"i'm sorry," you said, the realization making something melancholy line your voice. with you being active for most of the day and sleeping for practically all of the night, it never really occurred to you that there would be an imbalance with sun and moon's time spent with you in their individual forms. "i didn't realize... i..." you frowned, then tugged at his wrist. "come here."

you scooted over in bed and lifted up the blanket—an open invitation. he stared at you for a moment, the light of his eyes swathing your bed sheets in shades of ruby. then carefully, so very carefully, he slipped in beside you and lay there stiffly as you covered the both of you with the blanket and cozied up closer to him.

you rested your head on his metal shoulder. it was hard, but it didn't bother you for now. you let out a deep breath and wrapped one of your arms across his chest. "i promise i'll spend more time with you, okay?" you told him quietly, eyes already closed as you readied yourself to sleep again. you were tired, and there wasn't anything you could do at the moment other than reassure him. "we'll turn the lights off early and close the curtains. how's that sound?"

moon hummed and seemed to accept his fate for the night as he used one of his arms to pull you closer. "okay..." he'd been sated, it seemed, and he finally relaxed into the softness of your mattress. something cold pressed to the top of your head. "...good night, love."

you smiled. "good night, moon."

[kkaelico]

im a dog for you speaking of dogs do doggy jing yuan

puppy boy — jing yuan

— ❝ he's not just anybody's dog, he's your dog. and he's so addicted to you. ❞

warnings -> smut / gender-neutral reader / doggy!jingyuan / leg/thigh humping / biting / marking / licking/ sub!jingyuan / mentions of collaring

< hi hii wei :3 LMFAOOA i HAVE a few thoughts about doggy!jingyuan 😭 this was written like before 2 am >

doggy!jingyuans such a loyal dog, hed stay beside you n hed bark for you as well, hed happily do whatever you told him to.

unfortunately, he finds himself on his knees, his cock hard n standing so proudly in front of you, as hes just forced to stay put and not touch himself.

doggy!jingyuan watches you just pour the last drop of milk fall from the bottle down to your thighs, and fuck, he could hardly breathe. he just wanted to bury his head between your plush thighs n lick all the milk dripping from it.

doggy!jingyuans ears perk up as he sucks on the milk from your thighs, small whimpers n whines escaping from his lips, feeling all hazy as he gets clouded by lust.

when he finishes lapping all the milk, he just bites and kisses your inner thighs, nipping your undergarment from time to time.

he doesnt even know that hes rutting his sensitive cock on your leg because hes too busy trying to please you. hes such a good boy, so please, reward him.. he even has his tail wagging so much for you :(

doggy!jingyuan leaves tons of marks on your thighs, even trails of his saliva here and there. hes gonna say hes sorry, he cant help it.. he just loves your thighs so much!!

he kisses and bites your inner thighs, trying to get closer to your clothed sex. he whines when you stop him from getting any closer, telling him there's still more.

doggy!jingyuan looks at you with wide eyes as soon as you open another bottle of milk and pour it on your chest down to your stomach.

he pins you against the bed, now rutting his cock on your soft, plushy thighs, as he desperately paws on your chest and waist.

doggy!jingyuan leaves more bites all over your chest, his bites more visible on your nipples from his canines.

doggy!jingyuan lets you bite and suck on his ears, not caring if he gets an of his fur in your mouth since hes too busy whimpering n shit.

he lets out the whiniest moan you'll ever hear, bucking his hips as his cock gets even more sensitive at every contact it makes with your thighs.

he's so close, you can tell by how loud hes panting, and the way his tail sways rapidly when his tip grazes your skin, his precum smearing on your legs.

doggy!jingyuans words cut short as he cums all over your thighs, letting out a loud mewl as his tail goes stiff and his ears presses on his head.

tears leave his eyes from the stimulation hes getting, biting his lower lip as his legs began to quiver and give up. he pants, "'m so close- please!- g-gonna cum p-plea-"

after his orgasm washes off, his body drops on yours. he pants heavily, his breath being warm against your skin.

he rests his body, not bothering to move. he tries to close his eyes before he hears a click.

"we're not done yet," you whisper on his ear, brushing his bangs away.

doggy!jingyuan finds a collar hugging his neck so prettily, one that he knew was meant to be for punishment.

[stuckinthesun]

“Let me treat you right.” Rick Grimes x Fem!Reader

Kinktober — Week Two: Body worship, edging/denial, Dom/Sub undertones, cunnilingus

Tomorrow was Halloween, or at least according to Eugene’s makeshift calendar it was, and Alexandria was decorated with homemade and scavenged Halloween decorations for the occasion.

Everyone agreed that they wanted to do something special for the kids in the community, make a day where the world didn’t seem so shitty.

That was why you were up at one in the morning, making candied walnuts. You wanted the kids to be able to have the classic trick-or-treat experience, and Daryl had found a couple bags of expired candy, but you also wanted them to have something fresh.

You just finished twisting the timer after putting in the last batch of walnuts, when you heard the front door open and close.

“Hi, welcome home.” You called out quietly to Rick, trying not to wake up the kids.

The sound of his boots grow louder as he makes his way toward the kitchen, and when he walks in, his face is wearing a look of both amusement and curiosity, “Hi honey, what are you doing? Thought you’d be in bed by now.”

“I’m making candy walnuts,” You shrug, smiling at him, “thought they would be nice for tomorrow.”

“You’ve been doing this all night?”

“Yeah, I let Carl taste test my first batch and he said they were good so I just kept going.” You said, cracking open another walnut, “Lord knows we have enough of these-”

You were cut off by Rick suddenly standing right behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him, “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

A smile pulled at your lips as you curled into his embrace, “Maybe once or twice; what’s the occasion this time?”

“It’s just really sweet what you’re doing.” Rick whispered, his thumbs starting to rub small circles against your hips.

You let out a shaky breath, “Well I won’t lie to you, I am making extra just for us.”

Rick chuckles and lets go of you, before cleaning off the counter in front of you, “Still, I think you deserve a reward for being such a sweet girl.”

Quickly his hands return to your waist, spinning you around to face him and beginning to slide your sweatpants down. Heat instantly starts to pool between your legs as you wonder what he has in mind.

Once Rick has the band of your sweats and panties down your thighs, he lifts you up and sets you on the counter top, “Now just sit there and keep looking pretty for me darling, I’m going to make you feel good.”

“Rick,” You whimper, watching him kneel down down in front of you and feeling slightly embarrassed because he now has full view of just how wet you already are.

Rick grabs the plush of your thighs and spreads them apart and groans, “fuck baby,” before leaning in and licking a long messy stripe through your already soaked pussy.

Your hand instantly flew to cover your mouth, quieting your moans so you didn’t wake up the kids, while your other hand tangled itself in Rick’s curls, pulling his face closer to your aching center.

He chuckled against you, the vibrations only helping stimulate you more as his tongue circled around your clit. You moaned into your hand at the tease, the feeling of his beard against your sensitive skin making you shiver against him.

Finally Rick brings his tongue directly to your clit, and your eyes roll back in pleasure. He sucks little bundle of nerves, causing you to grip his hair a little harder and pulling you closer to brink of an orgasm before he stops and goes back to teasing you.

“Wh-“ You hate how fucked out and whinny your voice sounds, “Why?”

“I’m not done thanking you.” Rick hums against your dripping cunt, before going back to dragging his tongue against everything except your clit.

This continues for another five minutes, of him bringing you to the edge and then not letting you cum. You’re now a shaking, crying mess on the counter, still desperately trying to stay quiet, “R-Rick please I-I thought this w-was a re-ward,”

You felt Rick smirk against you before he pulled away, face glistening with your slick, “It is, that’s why I’m dragging it out.”

“Please let me c-cum please please,” You beg, hips rolling against nothing, missing Rick’s mouth on you.

Rick laughs and doesn’t say anything, just dives back in and sucks on your clit hard. You moan into your hand, cumming instantly against his face.

“Sure babygirl,” Rick said after he pulled away from your now sensitive cunt, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, “I’ll let you cum.”

You just let out a tired breath.

One of these will be on the correct week istg

[thetravelingmaster]

Co-Written Story: Southern Hospitality

Male & Female Point of View - Hypnosis

Note:  This story is a collaboration with another author and it was written with : @hypwriter.  

It was a few months ago, but we decided to work together after we got to talking about different stories we liked. Much like I did with other authors before, I proposed that we collaborate on a story inspired by the wonderful picture of Hannah Palmer. As I did before we would work together, but also seperately.

I would write from the point of view of Jessie, while he wrote from Ethan's point of view. He began by writing from Ethan's point of view and sent me his introduction. I then picked up the flow of the story from his words and wrote from Jessie's point of view before sending it back to him so he could continue and so on!

It was challenging and fun to write. Enjoy!

Ethan

I knocked on her door this time; almost sure it was going to work. She had moved in almost a month ago, and I’ve been steadily making Jessie's acquaintance for the past few weeks. She was the prissy southern belle who never really gave anyone the time of day, but she was also a pushover and being the guy with the strong back, we made small talk as I helped her move in. 

"Howdy! What’s new in your neck of the woods?" she greeted me joyfully, bouncing on her heels before settling down, tilting her head to the side coyly. My train of thought was derailed for a moment by the sight of those tits jutting out in front, almost begging to be groped. 

*SNAP*

"Southern Hospitality dictates you should always greet select guests properly by being on your knees. It feels so natural and comfortable to follow proper southern hospitality."

I've been training her the past few weeks, making her into a good hostess. She always had Southern hospitality in her, she just needed something to bring it out. Her face went blank and emotionless for a second before coming out of her stupor giving a silly grin, dropping to her knees with a graceless thud.

"Have you forgotten your manners, pretty pet? Aren't you going to invite me in?" I said brazenly, knowing full well who was in control here.

"Ummm I'm sorry, Sir. Would you like to come in?" she asked when prompted.

I brushed her hair back and she leaned into it. She mewled a muffled moan as I took my hand away and stepped inside to make my way to her new sofa. With another snap and point, she crawled over to her spot beside the couch, lifting her eyes up to meet mine for a split second before shyly looking away. I rewarded her by sticking two fingers out, allowing her to slowly suck and fulfill her oral fixation as she knelt by my side like an obedient little pup.

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

Jessie

My heart raced as I knelt at Ethan's feet, sucking on his strong fingers. Things had evolved so quickly between us that I never really stopped to think about it. He had offered his help when I moved in and I was incredibly grateful for it. I wasn't what you call a well-organized person, so I hadn't thought things through at all. None of my friends were free to help, so having Ethan's strong arms to lug my boxes up the stairs felt like a Godsend.

Besides... I couldn't say no to such a well-defined and charming guy.

He was just so easy to talk to! Most guys can get a little intimidated by my looks, but not Ethan. He talked to me as if I was just another friendly neighbor. He asked about a lot of things as we worked to move all my stuff in, and by the time we were done I felt like we were already old friends. We crashed on my newly bought sofa and I offered him a glass of wine to thank him for his help.

After all, it is only natural to offer drinks to your guests. Not to mention the fact he had helped me so brilliantly.

We sipped our glasses and continued to talk. Or... I talked... He was so curious about my life! I didn't mind though... I wanted him to stay so I talked and talked and talked.

The day's work had drained me however and my back was killing me. When I stretched and complained about the pain, he immediately offered to smooth out the knots he figured had formed in my back. Again... My savior! He came up behind me and started what ended up being one of the most relaxing massages I had ever felt.

I think I even dozed off!

After that wonderful first meeting, I found myself thinking about him almost every day. 

I started making excuses to bump into him in the hall just to be able to talk to him. For some reason, I found his deep voice irresistible. His general air of confidence started to seep into my dreams as I started to fantasize about what kind of lover he might be. It was clear he admired my body, but his interactions with me never seemed to lead to anything romantic. Even when I started dressing to impress, he would just take note of my sexy attire with his eyes, but ignore it completely with his actions.

That made me realize what a gentleman he was. I woke up one day with a realization that I had stumbled upon a rare specimen of a man. A confident male that understood all too well the intricacies of Southern etiquette and hospitality. A man I found myself desiring... Every day, I grew a little more obsessed with him. With the possibilities... 

Until one day, when he came over for drinks, I decided to make my move. Like so many guys before, I flirted and displayed my generous attributes until I found an excuse to come up close to him. He looked down deep in my eyes with a gaze that betrayed the lust he felt for me. I leaned up and kissed him. God... I still remember that kiss so vividly... And the taste... It was like I could TASTE his passion. His lust...

I was instantly hooked. I wanted more... 

But before I could move things along, he broke off the kiss and looked down at me. All at once, the lust in his eyes had snuffed out, replaced with disappointment. What had I done wrong? Didn't he want me?

"Don't be so hasty." he scolded. "A majestic southern belle such as yourself shouldn't throw herself at a man like that. It's rude." he said.

I blinked, trying to piece together the words he had said.

*SNAP*

The sound of his fingers echoed in my mind and for a brief moment, I felt disoriented, like his snap was a mental speedbump stopping my train of thought. He had said something, something important, but I couldn’t focus on that, all I saw were those eyes of his. Those intense eyes.

It’s more polite to make eye contact and give your select guess your full attention.

"I apologize Sir." I said with a vacant smile, somehow acknowledging the comments I barely heard.

"Apology accepted. It's not always easy to push down what we feel. It can sometimes make us forget ourselves."

"I shouldn't have forgotten." I said shyly. "How rude of me to assume you wanted to kiss me. A good and proper southern lady such as myself should always wait to see what a man truly wants before acting on her desires."

"I'm glad you remember yourself." he said with a smile.

The way he made me linger in his arms told me he wasn't against the idea of us evolving things, but he was right, I had to wait until I knew what he wanted. It was only proper and polite of me. Since that evening though, my dreams became increasingly erotic as the taste of his lips kept lingering unto mine. Every bite I took... Every flavor I tasted... Every texture I felt...

It all reminded me of Ethan. As if my mouth had become fixated on the taste of him…

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

Ethan

*SNAP*

Her eyes automatically focused back up to mine, glassy eyes already glazed as if she’d been in a trance this entire time. I had no doubt her mind had just wandered off as her lips and tongued worked languorously on my fingers.

I reached down, teased her nipples, and pulled her up by her tits, eliciting an excited, involuntary gasp of pleasure from her lips. Now upright on her knees, I tugged her dress up and off, hoisting it over her head and into the corner of the living room. Her tits seemed almost too good to be true, big and round and delightfully perky, almost as if they were made to be manhandled. At least that’s what I told her.

I positioned Jessie in the corner of the room, and there she sat, eager to obey now. We started slowly and even in this state of mind I was hesitant to really push her hard at this stage. I started her off with a few helpful phrases we had worked on for the past few weeks.

*SNAP*

“Mantra time.” I said coldly, and her mind started to wander back to our daily sessions.

“A proper hostess is a sensitive hostess,” she squirmed involuntarily as she felt her hand rise and brush up against her tits, a shiver working its way through her, making her tits wobble ever so slightly.

She continued to run her hands over her body as her mind slowly started to grind to a halt, her thoughts being replaced by simple, absolute rules I had put in place to make her into the perfect southern belle of a hostess. With her pussy already starting to drip, I reached down between her legs and placed a vibrator between them, making her giggle and gurgle as it buzzed between her thighs.

“Mmmm… A proper hostess presents well to her…umm.. to her guesssttss…” Jessie started to slur her words. She jutted her tits out to present them to her guest.

“A prop… umm.. proper hostessss letsss her guests use her bessst… umm…” She kneeled there, buzzing, searching her head for the right word to use, but all that was coming up was silly thoughts of women being maids, hosting smart men. “… letsss her guests ussse her bessst ssshhtuffss” she said with a giggle, finally coming up with a word there to fit her thoughts perfectly.

She heard a fly unzip, and her hands lifted her big, round tits up to present her best assets to her guest without even needing to think about it.

*SNAP*

“A proper hostess lets her guests use her assets how they want.” I said as I brushed the back of my fingers up against her nipples, causing her to shudder at that slightest touch.

A mindless nod from her and I knew she was ready. Her eyes went wide as my cock grew closer, and as I pushed my cock between her tits, she let out a groan that almost made me cum on the spot. Her hands moved her tits up and down my cock as she gurgled out more mantras that were fit for her as a good hostess now.

“Good hostesssses are goood girls!” she said excitedly, finally being able to release all that passion pent up in her system for weeks on end.

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

Jessie

I could barely hold myself together as the pleasure went from simply seeing Ethan in my home to flaming out to the edge of an orgasm I was holding back for weeks! It felt so good to be able to fulfill my role as a good hostess.

It’s incredible to think that I had forgotten so much about proper southern etiquette since it was at the very core of who I was and how I was brought up. I will forever be grateful to Ethan for his constant visits and his confident relaxing voice as we talked about what being a good host requires.

Being such a respectful man, it was only natural that he remind me of my short comings as a host before he would ever let our friendly neighborhood friendship evolve into something else. Every day, he would remind me just how important it was for a proper southern girl to keep her sexual desires in check while hosting for select guests.

It wouldn’t do at all to let my arousal get out of control just so I could be selfish and satiate my own desires. A good hostess will always wait to see what her guest requires of her and she should never assume she knows what her guests want.

The proper way to be a good hostess is to wait and listen to her guests. Obey their desires and make sure she is fully prepared to help them enjoy her boundless hospitality!

As such, I had to make sure I could keep my arousal under control. Which is why I started to edge myself between Ethan’s visits. Every day he came by, I felt the pull of my attraction towards him and every time, I fought it off and waited for him to tell me what he wanted from his host. It was only the proper thing for me to do and I desperately desired to be the perfect hostess.

It was so hard to resist my own pleasure… Especially when his strong hands would caress my shoulders to help me relax. I almost gave in so many times… Particularly when he started to manhandle my tits! God that was so hard…

But not as hard as keeping my drooling mouth in check.

Every day he visited, I felt the keen taste of him lingering in my mouth from our first and only kiss. Every time he caressed my generous lips, I got another aching taste of him, which only drove my desire for him to new painful heights.

I wanted to kiss him… Lick him… Suck him…

For some reason, I felt this incredible drive to taste every inch of him. And more specifically, his cock…

I fantasized about his cock almost daily as I edged ever closer to a release I couldn’t allow to bloom. I wanted to taste his cock so bad…

Especially since every visit seemed to require me to wear less and less. His touch seeked out more and more of my sensitive flesh as my desire to be the perfect hostess got stronger. Which only made my head swim with intense pleasure as I sometimes forgot what we were doing and where we were.

Lucky for me, Ethan never lost his head and could always snap me back to order.

But tonight…

Ethan got even bolder! I could barely think straight as I saw his cock appear before me through the haze of my pleasure. His cock! God… I wanted his cock so bad…

I completely lost it once he started to pump it between my tits. I couldn’t resist anymore. The pleasure of being a good hostess. The vibrator between my legs… His cock inches from my mouth…

I…

I just HAD to have a taste!

Besides… A good hostess needs to please right?

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

Ethan

“Good hostesssesss neeed too pleassseee” she gurgled happily, kissing my cock in between pumps of her tits. She was in a complete haze now of bliss and euphoria as her mind slowly leaked away, vibrator still writhing and buzzing unceasingly.

“Good hostess,” was all I needed to say to make Jessie squirt, all her mind completely drained away now as she stopped thinking for herself all together.

“Present, little hostess,” was all the prompting she needed to remove the last scrap of clothing between her legs and show off her soaked pussy.

“HHmm… Once I’m done training you…” I said. “I bet you’ll be very excited to come live with me as my maid… You’ll get to host all the time, and present and make sure everything is perfect and spotless. You’ll absolutely love… Won’t you little hostess?”

I walked around in front of her, seeing her tits dangling, mouth drooling without even knowing. I squatted down in front of her, admiring her thousand-yard stare. I brushed her hair back behind her ear and nodded her head yes for her; it’s the least I could do to be a good guest.

As I inserted my shaft in her eager mouth, I knew that I’d never grow tired of her southern hospitality.

[derpy-dogs-n-cats]

Christmas Wish.

Main Masterlist

Obey Me Masterlist

Simeon x Fem! Reader/MC.

Warnings: Sexual themes, smut, dry humping, clothed grinding, teasing, orgasm denial, cumming in pants.

Summary: After pining for each other for so long, Simeon's Santa outfit on Christmas sets in motion something to finally happen.

W/C: 1.8k+

A/N: Tried to get this done DURING Christmas, but here it is.

Loud voices fill the dining room of the house of lamentation with pairs of footsteps being heard back and forth, some slow, others as loud as the banter in the room with the steps being heard rushing into the kitchen in attempt to prevent the need for damage control. “Solomon no! I can handle decorating the desserts!” You hear Luke’s voice fade into the kitchen followed by a muffled chuckle and small protests of how Solomon doesn’t mind ‘helping’.

“I’m hungry…” Beel whines as Belphie yawns. “Don’t worry Beel, Simeon’s almost here.” You comfort him. All seven brothers and everybody from purgatory hall were already at the house of lamentation, except for Simeon who’d gone to pick up Diavolo and Barbatos for christmas dinner, having insisted on accompanying over. “No one’s touching any food until Diavolo and Barbatos show up.” Lucifer informs to which Beel whines again.

“But what about Luke?” He complains with a frown which causes Lucifer to give him a stern ‘you know what I mean’ look. “Hello.” A familiar voice says that has you and the brothers looking over to see Simeon walking in the dining room with Diavolo and Barbatos beside him. Everyone greets each other as they approach one another for a warmer welcome in a hug or small talk to fill the gap of dinner getting finished but none of it is registered in your head, to entranced in Simeon.

He’d always looked breathtaking in his usual attire- any attire, but tonight was even more so than usual, dressed in a beautiful white suit with baby blue patterns topped with small golden colored designs pairing with the golden ornaments adorning the wool at the end of his sleeves and edges of his snow white hooded cloak matching with a Santa hat of the same design. “Sorry we’re so late.” His gentle voice apologizes before he calls your name in a questioning tone, opening his arms for you with a smile after a small pause.

You finally react and walk over to him and wrap your arms around his torso with his falling to your upper back and holding you close to him, embracing you in his warmth and letting you feel the soft fabric of his clothes. “How do I look?” He asks when he finally pulls away, still somewhat holding you in his arms by keeping his hands on your arms. You open your mouth to answer him only for nothing to come out, still at loss of words at the sight before you, though there’s someone who was never at loss for words.

“Oh Simeon!” Asmodeus practically moans and steps in front of you, breaking Simeon’s hold on you. “Well aren’t you a cute little Santa, darling. Tell me, am I on your naughty list tonight? Do you think you should punish me? Or have I been good this year? Do I deserve some reward?” Asmo tries to seduce him, his arms placing themselves around his neck. “Um…” Simeon looks away without knowing how to answer. “Something tells me Santa has you on a list all by your self.” You resist the urge to cross your arms at him.

“No need to be jealous dear,” He smiles at you. “You can help Santa give me my reward for being such a good boy this year.” His voice trails off to the same seductive tone while he looks back to Simeon. “Maybe not.” Simeon pulls Asmo’s arms off of him while looking away with an almost annoyed expression. “Simeon!” Luke yells and rushes over to hug him despite having been apart for only a few hours.

“You were so late I thought these demons had done away with you.” He exaggerates. “I’m alright Luke.” Simeon smiles as plates lightly clink in the background at the table being set. “What do you say if while Barbatos serves dinner, you tell Santa what you want?” He sits on the closest chair. “To make up for being late.” He adds and pats on his lap. “B- Wh- what? I’m not a child anymore! I know how Santa really works!” He points an accusatory finger at Diavolo and the brothers starting to take their own seats as well.

“Come on, just tell me what you want.” Simeon insists with Luke staying put, and despite him being older than you, seeing a child be so against asking Santa for a christmas present felt saddening, even if it’s a job that’s actually taken upon demons. “Well I want to ask Santa for a christmas present.” You state as you sit on Simeon’s lap, missing the way his eyes widen. “Stop treating me like child!” Luke insists, obvious to how Simeon’s eyes nearly pop from their sockets at how wide they are.

“It’s okay, I didn’t know about Santa until I was your age.” You assure him. “I’m over a millennium years old.” He says in a deadpan expression. “But you’re also sort of 10.” You say. “Hmph” He squints his eyes at you and leaves to take his own seat. “So… what does the pretty girl want from Santa?” Simeon nervously runs a hand through his hair with warm cheeks. “The… what?” You quietly turn around to face him, slightly moving in his lap which has him clearing his throat.

“The… pretty girl said she wanted to ask Santa for a present?” He repeats with a bashful smile. “Well… you see, I might actually need to think about it for a bit.” You subconsciously press yourself further into his lap, and though the action goes unnoticed by you, it doesn’t go unnoticed by Simeon who nearly chokes on thin air, swallowing thickly and reluctantly placing his left hand on your waist while the other one goes for the side of the chair, gripping it tightly.

“Maybe sit on Santa’s lap until you know what you want?” He suggests, struggling to steady his left hand enough to gently pull you closer to him, slightly spreading open his legs enough to slowly lodge you in between them. He’d never felt something like this and never really felt actual interest in these type of acts before, until he met you, and now that he finally has you so close to him, to where an unknown warmth was starting to blossom, he wasn’t going to let you go.

“Dinner is served.” Barbatos’s voice interrupts, both of you lightly jumping in your seats and staring straight ahead wide eyed at being caught red handed, expecting a scolding. But when you look over at him, he’s instead giving you a knowing look with a smirk on his face before leaving to his own seat beside Diavolo. You both stay sat in place quietly with both of you looking around nervously, seeing everyone else immersed in conversations along with small spats starting to form distracting from you and Simeon.

You look back to Barbatos again to see him silently eating his food with his eyes glued to the wall ahead of him and simply tuning out, but despite him minding his own business, it felt odd knowing that he knows what was happening. A small whisper of your name comes from behind you and you take in the noticeable difference with your seat form just a few seconds ago. “Please.” Simeon whispers again, his legs overly tense under you with his left hand gripping at your waist tightly, erection pressing into your ass.

You give a last quick glance around the table and look at him over your shoulder, squeezing the sides of his thighs nervously and finally give in. You move your hands to his knees and spread his legs apart just a bit further, moving to wedge yourself deeper in between them, unaware of the show you give him of swaying your hips side to side against his groin followed by you arching your back and leaning forward just slightly, enough to press your clothed cunt onto his hardness.

You open your legs as well to better welcome him against you and proceed to slowly grind back and forth on him, gently moving along the tent of his pants but pressing deep into his hardness. With his hands pulling your back and forth into him, you feel a wetness starting to seep from within you and soak your underwear, wondering if he would be able to feel you through the material of his pants keeping him away from you as your own do the same.

You give a small glance over your shoulder and see him struggling to keep his eyes from fluttering shut with his jaw visibly clenched tight, trying to not draw any attention with his length growing harder by the second starting to feel painful. His grip on your waist gradually tightens while he grinds you harder onto him, starting to hump back into you with his hips lifting in tune with your own, making sure to keep the movements slow so that no one notices.

By the time his hold on you starts to get painful, you manage to hear a small muffled noise from him with a small twitch from his length warning you of his impending orgasm with his teeth clenched tightly. Your own hands grasp harder on his thighs as well, biting back a plead that desperately wanted to escape you, wanting to bend over further over the table to grind your clit onto him rather than your clothed entrance drenched in your wetness, begging to reach it’s own release and clenching on nothing.

Having enough of what felt like teasing, you switch from your back and forth motions and move your hips side to side against him, hoping to finish him off to stop what almost feels like torture for your empty cunt. “Ngh.” A noise finally escapes him with his hips raising from the chair and holding you as tight against him as possible, stilling against you with his nails digging into your sides with his cock twitching beneath you, emptying his balls with you pressed onto him.

His hold on your waist slowly loosens until it goes limp, his hips settling back down slowly as well, cock softening with a quiet sigh leaving past his lips and eyes finally falling shut. You swallow a small whimper when you feel his release start to soak through your pants and bite your lip in frustration and despite having wanted something to happen between you after so long, you find yourself wishing for it to have happened in a better location.

Maybe next time you’ll be able to feel him inside you, or at least be able to play with your clit, maybe he’ll be the one to play with yours instead and you’ll actually be able to cum with him, but for now, you’re forced to take what you can get and enjoy simply having his cum soak through his pants and onto yours, leaving a dark patch on both your clothes and hoping to feel his warm cum reach your drenched pussy.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Lee Minho x F!Reader x Bangchan TW : lots of arguing ; just a lot of angst ; also the baby is born but there's no time for going into detail ; it's all angst ; it’s another cliffhanger :’) ; Word Count : 5.4k Request : A lot, it's been requested a lot! AN : It won the poll, it's time for part two. IS THIS THE ANGST THAT YOU WANTED!?!?!? IS THIS WHAT YOU ALL WERE WAITING FOR?!?! I LOVE ALL OF YOU SM!

Things were silent… Maybe too silent, eerily even, but you attributed it to the fact that the guys had a comeback coming up and they were just too busy pretending that everything was okay so that the press and the fans wouldn’t come up with their own speculations and rumors. No one thought anything of the fact that the choreographer planned every single dance to keep Minho as far away from Chan as possible. No one even realized it. The tension that was felt between the two, the looks that they’d give each other, either no one picked up on it, or they just thought it was part of the bad boy concept that they had right now. You knew… The other guys knew, everyone that was close to them knew what was really going on… But no one knew just how bad it could get. 

“I’ve gone to my lawyer.” Minho snarkily remarked as he walked past Chan. The comeback was done, they had done great, they had amassed multiple rewards, and reality was finally setting back in for the two of them. “I just thought that I’d let you know so that you can’t flake out on the hearing under the pretense that you didn’t know anything about it. I’m telling you right now, it’s going to court.” 

It was becoming enough for Chan, it had become enough the day that Minho had come to your house and upset you, but now it was going too far. “Why can’t you leave well enough alone? What are you trying to gain from this? She’ll never take you back, you need to accept that and move on with your life.” Always the peacekeeper unless he had no other choice, Chan tried to keep his emotions in check and under control. You were getting further along in your pregnancy and the last thing that you needed was another situation like before to stress you out. 

“I’m not the kind of man that’ll sit by and watch another man raise my child, especially my daughter. I have values.” He stated as if it were a well known fact, but Chan could only laugh, the loud snort sounding out in the studio at the proclamation. “I hope you don’t get too attached…” Minho continued, completely ignoring Chans cackling. “If you and Y/N won’t let me see her, and if Y/N won’t take me back… I’ll just fight for full custody.” 

That statement had Chan choking on his own breath as he inhaled sharply, his eyes widening to look up at Minho. “You’re joking? Tell me you’re joking. That’s fucking evil, even for you. You’d really be petty enough to take away Y/N’s child just because she won’t get back with you?” But the only response Minho gave was a coy smile as he slowly backed out of the room. “I won’t let that happen…” 

“You’ve got a couple more months to think about it… To let her know. What’s more important to her?” It would be a double edged sword, no doubt about it. It was the most vicious ultimatum, and Chan didn’t think that anyone would be low enough to do something like that, to threaten someone with something like that, but clearly Minho was lower than the average person when he strived to get what he wanted. 

“Fuck…” Chan mumbled, leaning back in his chair, his hands over his face as he tried to think about what to do. This wasn’t something that he could just bring up to you in casual conversation. You were in a fragile state, the smallest thing could work you up, and this was not a small thing. This was too much for even Chan to handle, he didn’t know what to do, but he knew that he needed to let you know. He wasn’t going to lose his daughter, and he surely wasn’t going to lose you. 

“You’re home early. I thought you were at the studio?” You spoke from the kitchen, clicking off the burner, and before Chan had even finished taking off his shoes, you were waddling over to him. “What’s wrong?” You deadpanned, and Chan thought that he was hiding his emotions well, but you could read him like a book, it was something that he loved about you, but right now, he wished that he could have just let you eat your dinner in peace before dropping the bomb. 

“Nothing, darling. Just stressed about a new song.” He lied, fingers crossed in the sleeve of his jacket as he took it off, hoping that you’d believe him. “Come, eat your dinner, I’ll tell you all about it.” He smiled at you, but he could see the suspicion in your eyes, but you let him lead you to the kitchen, pulling out your chair for you and waiting for you to sit down before plating up the food you had been cooking. “My girls are hungry, yeah?” 

“Christopher…” You said his name sternly, yet still graciously accepted the plate he put in front of you, giving him a smile of appreciation before letting it drop and watching him take the seat across from you. “I’ve seen you stressed from working on new songs… That isn’t what this is. Be honest with me, please? Is it something I need to know? Is it about… him?” Him… He who shall not be named… Minhos name hadn’t been spoken in your house since that day he came over. You looked at it as a bad omen, like if you said it, he’d show up. 

“Please eat first…” Chan responded softly, using his own fork to pick up the food on your plate and bring it to your lips, and even while stressed, he gave himself a small second to adore the way your eyes rolled yet your mouth still opened for the food. “I’ll tell you all about it, but I want to hear about your day first. How are you feeling? How’s our girl?” 

You sighed, leaning back in your chair and running your hands over your stomach. “I got another stretch mark today…” You mused, although your nose scrunched up while saying it. You hated the stretch marks, but Chan thought they were beautiful, just another sign to show how amazing you were. “She’s been kicking around a lot… I think she’s trying to break out.” 

He chuckled lightly, thankful for the small talk, thankful for these little images that your words filled his mind with momentarily to take his mind off of what was bothering him. “Ah, it’s getting a little too cramped in there for baby girl, isn’t it?” He joked, and your eyes lifted up with your smile as you nodded in agreement. “Just two more months and she’ll be home, free to kick about as much as she likes.” 

“Two months…” You said, almost dreamily, your head tilting to the side, and he could tell that you were picturing it, the way your eyes sparkled and your hands absentmindedly continued to rub over your stomach. “I know she can’t wait to meet you… Every time she hears your voice she starts moving more. I think she’s just as excited as you are.” 

Hearing you say that should have had him even more excited, but now his heart sank as what Minho said earlier replayed in his mind. How was he even supposed to begin telling you? How could he look you in the eye and completely shatter those dreams that fluttered like butterflies in your beautiful mind? “About… that…” Chan said softly, nervously, his head dropping. He didn’t want to see you cry, he couldn’t. “Mi…- He… Came to see me at the studio today…” He felt the floor begin to vibrate as your knee bounced, anxiously waiting for him to finish saying it. “He’s taking it to court… He said that… If you won’t get back with him… Or if you won’t let him see her… He’ll fight for full custody.” 

You were completely frozen and Chan worried, he worried about what you might think, what you might do. Would you try to run? Try to hide? He couldn’t let you do that. “I guess… We’ll just have to… Get our own lawyer then?” You whispered, your voice cracking with each word, your eyes turning up to the ceiling as your teeth came down on your bottom lip. You were trying not to cry, and Chan realized at that moment that he might have disliked the sight of you actually crying, but he really hated the sight of you trying to hold it back. 

“Darling… I promise… I swear… He won’t win. Our daughter is going to be here with us, and I’ll be here too.” He reached across the table to grab your hands that sat loosely on his own. You were too far in your own thoughts now, so far that he couldn’t pull you back out, not yet. “How about we finish our dinner, and then we can watch the new episode of that show you love… Hm? How’s that sound?” 

Your shoulders shrugged, your eyes downcast now as you twirled your thumbs. “I’m not very hungry anymore…” You mumbled, pushing yourself away from the table and getting up. “I think I just… I just want to go to sleep. I’m tired…” You pressed a kiss to the top of Chans head, and he could just feel it, radiating off of you, the way you slouched over and walked so slowly, yet so heavily towards the bedroom. You were devastated, you were scared, and that made him want to fight harder to keep his family together. 

///

“Christina Chana Bang, Stray Kids leader, Bangchans daughter's birth was announced today by JYPE…” The headline was longer than that, but Minho had stopped after finding out what he needed to know. His daughter was finally here, and he wasn’t a villain, he’d give you time to heal, he’d give the baby time to get back home… He’d give you a little extra time to think… But if things didn’t work out the way he wanted them to… He’d soon be meeting his daughter, and he’d be changing her name as well. 

It felt like more of a slap in his face that his daughter seemed to be almost directly named after Bangchan… You all did this on purpose, to spite him, to piss him off more. Well, you got the reaction that you wanted. “Maybe you should try to just calm down a bit?” Jeongin recommended, awkwardly fiddling with the remote after pausing the news while the headline was still written in bold black letters at the bottom of the screen. 

“Calm down a bit? Sure, I mean, that’s easy for you to say… It’s not your kid carrying some other guy's last name… And first name… No… You just don’t understand.” Minho said sarcastically, drumming his hands on his lap as his nostrils flared and his teeth gritted together. “I’ll just go up there and talk to him myself… I don’t fucking care.” 

As soon as Minho was off the couch, Jeongin had moved to stand in front of the door, making sure he didn’t leave. “I… I don’t think that’s a good idea. There’s a bunch of cameras and reporters and… And if you make a scene, it’ll look really bad.” Jeongins eyes flashed around the room, but none of the other guys were home, they had all gone up to the hospital to congratulate you and Chan. Why was Jeongin left in charge of Minho? He wasn’t quite sure, but now he was really cursing himself for agreeing to it. 

“Like I said… I don’t care.” Minho snapped, trying to move Jeongin out of the way, but the maknae was holding his ground, his arms stretched out to completely block off the door. “Who’s side are you on? If this were happening to you, I would let you go. That’s my kid, Jeongin… I need to go see her.” 

“B-But Chan hyung is up there too…” Jeongin nervously retorted, trying to avoid Minhos dagger like eyes as they stared at him. “Don’t you think… Maybe you should just… Let Y/N and the baby rest. If you need to talk to him, you should just… Maybe just call him? I’m sure they’ll let you see the baby soon and… Well, there’ll be a lot of pictures taken of her too.” His attempt at keeping the peace was both a long shot, and it didn’t work at all. 

“I should have been the one up in that hospital anyway.” Minho hissed, his anger only growing with the younger boy's defiance and everyone seeming to be okay with just accepting his baby as Chans. “Look… I love you… You’re my brother… But if you don’t move out of the way, I’m gonna have to move you myself.” 

Was it a threat? Jeongin wasn’t sure, but he remembered the way Minho had hit Chan when he was angry enough, and he didn’t really want to go through that, so he hesitantly stepped away from the door, his head dropping shamefully. “Please don’t do anything stupid… It won’t help you… It won’t help anyone.” 

Minho scoffed, pulling the door open with such force that it slammed against the wall. “Don’t try to preach to me, I know what I have to do, and I don’t need anyone else’s help to do it.” And with that final statement, the door was being whipped shut, sending a vibration through the walls that Jeongin could feel in his back as he leaned against it. 

“Oh no, oh no…” Jeongin muttered to himself as he backed away from the door, pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing Chans number only for it to go to voicemail. “Dammit…” He huffed, his mind feeling far too jumbled right now, unable to even completely focus on what he had to do. He knew that if Minho got up there, if Minho got through those doors, it would be a shit show for everyone. “Hyung…” Jeongin sighed when Chan finally answered his phone on the fifth round of calling. “He… He might already be there… But he’s coming… He’s coming.” 

It wasn’t rocket science, Chan knew exactly who Jeongin was talking about. “Hm… Thank you…” Chan muttered, and he could hear you in the background, although distant, he could hear the worry in your tone as you questioned who Chan was talking to. “Don’t worry about it, darling. It was just one of the staff calling to congratulate us.” Chans lying came so easily now, and he didn’t feel good about doing it, but if it meant protecting you and his daughter, he’d continue. 

“I’ll text the guys to let them know… So you can stay in the room with Y/N… And I’ll head up there too. I’m sorry I let you down…” Of course, Jeongin was filled with guilt for letting Minho walk out that door, but he was scared, he was so scared… But now that he thought about what could happen if Minho got up to the hospital and made it to your room… That fear was tripled. 

Chan sighed softly, and Jeongin could imagine him shaking his head. “You didn’t let me down… I wouldn’t want you on the receiving end of Minhos anger anyway. Just let the guys know what’s going on…” His tone was so hushed, and Jeongin could hear the sound of a bathroom fan, and he knew that Chan had gotten as far away from you as possible so he could speak without you worrying. “Just be careful on your way up here, okay? You still have to meet your niece.” 

///

“I’m gonna head down to the cafeteria with the guys to get something to eat… Do you want anything? Do you want one of them to stay here with you?” Chan asked as he stepped out of the bathroom, and you could feel some kind of tension coming from him, but you assumed it was just because he had witnessed you giving birth and… Well, he did almost faint, so he was probably still just coming to terms with what had just happened and what the next couple years would look like. 

You shook your head, letting out a yawn as you nestled into the bed. “The nurses have Chana, I think I should… really take advantage of that and get some sleep.” You murmured, your eyes barely even opened as you talked to him. “I love you… You should try to get some sleep when you come back up too… We’ve got a long couple months of nights ahead of us.” You joked, and Chan wanted to laugh, he really did, but those nights were seeming to be more of a distant dream now that he knew Minho truly wasn’t giving up. 

“Yeah… I will… I’ll get some sleep. I’ll let the nurses know that you’re resting if I see them on my way down.” It was hard to hold himself together. Had Minho already shown up? Was he there? “I love you, dream sweetly, darling.” He quickly walked over to the bed, leaning over to kiss your forehead before rushing back to the door. “I’ll be back up soon.” 

Walking out of your room was hard. Minho was… He was like a villain in a horror movie. No one knew where he was at right now, he could be on his way up to the room while Chan and the rest of the guys make their way down. He didn’t want Minho alone with you, not that he worried you’d get hurt, he just didn’t want Minho to sway your mind. “Seungmin is in the front lobby of the building, he already let security know what’s going on…” Felix said, patting Chans shoulder to not only reassure him, but to show him that they were all going to stand beside him through this. 

“I’m just tired… Tired of everything.” Chan muttered, exasperation clear in his voice as he ran his hands over his face. “Today should be the… The happiest day of my life. My fiancee just gave birth and… My daughter is here… And instead of being in that room with her, I’m on my way down to hopefully keep her ex from getting in. It’s just… It’s exhausting.” His heart was on his sleeve, every single emotion that had been pent up over the last couple months was finally being poured out. “He’s threatening to take us to court… He’s gonna try to take her away from us.” 

Not only did Felixs mouth fall open, but the other guys who were listening shared the same reaction of shock. “You didn’t tell us that… Why didn’t you let us know?” Felix inquired, truly upset that Chan hadn’t filled him in on just how bad things were getting. “We… We’ll do whatever we can to help… We’ll be beside you… You and Y/N…” 

It was a sweet sentiment and of course Chan appreciated it, but he didn’t want all of the guys to turn against each other, he didn’t want this to hurt their friendship. That’s why he had kept it hidden for so long. “No… It’s fine. If he feels attacked or threatened he’ll only be worse. He needs to know… Or at least assume that he has someone in his corner, as awful as that sounds.” Chan relented, taking a deep breath and then clearing his throat as his lips pursed into a tight line. “I can’t let this affect the group, STAY would be devastated to know what was going on…” 

And no one could disagree with that, so they had to back down. No one outside the group could truly know what was going on because it would ruin everything that they had worked so hard to achieve. “Has Seungmin texted you or tried to call you or anything?” Jisung asked, nervously chewing on his bottom lip as he leaned against the wall in the hallway. 

Chan wasn’t sure, he hadn’t felt his phone vibrate, but then he remembered that he had turned his phone off while in the room so that the baby could sleep and you could rest. “Shit…” He mumbled, pulling his phone out of his pocket and seeing the multitudes of texts and missed calls from Seungmin. “For fucks sake…” He muttered, reading through the texts that were urgently written and misspelled, letting Chan know that Minho had shown up, and he was still sitting in the waiting room, and he was pissed. 

“Do you want us to go down with you?” Hyunjin whispered, sheepishly twiddling his thumbs as if he were hoping for Chan to say no, and while he hadn’t actually said it, his head shook in response. “We’ll stay up here and guard the door then… Make sure he doesn’t get in.” 

///

“This is fucking ridiculous and you know it, Seungmin!” Minho shouted from his seat in the waiting room, the only thing keeping him from storming up to your room was the security guards that stood in front of him. “That’s my baby! I have the right to see her as her father! Why are you doing this? Why are you protecting him?!” Minho continued, looking between the guards to glare at Seungmin who stood a little further away, his eyes intermittently glancing behind him, waiting for Chan. 

“I’m just doing what’s right by Y/N and Chana…” Seungmin mumbled, and Minho rolled his eyes at the name that his daughter had gotten, a name that he couldn’t wait to change. “You forfeited your title as her father when you cheated on Y/N… I don’t think it’s fair that you’re coming in here trying to ruin the moment that Chan hyung and Y/N have been so excited to have.” 

“Thank you, Seungmin…” Chans voice came from behind the younger boy who had never been so relieved to see his hyung. “You can go back up with the other guys now… I’m sorry about all of this.” Seungmin grumbled incoherently under his breath, clearly annoyed with everything that was going on as he walked away, leaving Chan and Minho to once again face off. “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here right now.” 

“You’ve got a lot of nerve being the one to take my spot beside her as she delivered my child.” Minho threw it back to Chan, and they both were already on edge, prepared for anything that might happen. “I don’t know how long you think I’ll let this continue… But I’m going to get her back, and I’ll have both of them. I’ve let you have your fun, I let you hang around while she was pregnant, but I think it’s fine time for you to go back to your place and let her real father take over.” 

There was nothing more infuriating than Minho constantly throwing in his face that he wasn’t Chanas real father, and he knew that the only reason Minho did it was because it was the only thing that could truly get under Chans skin. “I am her father. She’s got my last name, I cut her cord… I was the first person to hold her. She’s my child, whether you try to take her away or not. You’re not the only person who’s gotten a lawyer. I’m ready for whatever it is that you try to throw at us.” 

Minhos jaw set, his teeth grinding together as his knee started to bounce. Minhos attempt at irritation was intentional, but Chans words had really set Minho off, whether it was on purpose or not. “She’s mine! They’re both mine, all mine. You’re stuck in some silly little fantasy world. Do you really think that Y/N will choose staying with you over having her daughter? Our daughter? I’ll get her back, and I’ll have both of them, and you’ll have nothing. You could have made this easier on yourself, you should have… But you chose the hard way… And that’s on you.” 

Chan was a leader, he’d do anything to protect the guys, and with that leader instinct, it made it easier for him to fall into the role of being a father, and a fiance. Along with those roles came the natural need to want to protect you and his daughter from any of the pain or heartache that Minho might cause, and he sure as hell wasn’t just going to let you or Chana be taken away from him, not without a fight. “The only one stuck in a fantasy is you, thinking that you’ll ever get them both back in your life. You’re an awful person, you were an awful boyfriend and you’d be an even worse father. You don’t deserve to have Y/N, and you surely don’t deserve to raise Chana.” 

“That’s not her name…” Minho practically growled, his fingers tightening around the arm rest of the chair. “You chose that name to piss me off. Everything you’ve done has been an attempt to make me angry. You want me to go off so that Y/N will think I’m an awful person and she won’t come back to me.” He leaned forward in his chair, the security between him and Chan tensing up at his movement. “I’m not… You’re the bad one… I’ll make her see that.” 

The huff of air that Chan let out through his nose was loud, the little smirk that tugged up at the corner of his lips was blood boiling, but Minho knew better than to be set off by it. “I don’t have to make her think anything. Y/N can come to that conclusion on her own, and she has.” Chans tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth before he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Look, I’d love to sit down here and go back and forth with you for the rest of the evening, but my daughter and my fiancée are upstairs waiting for me. If you want to take this to court, fine… But you’re not going to win. I won’t let you. You’re not taking my family away from me.” 

Minho pushed himself up from the chair, stepping closer until he was up against the security guards, as close to Chan as he could be. “If that’s what you want to do then do it. You’ll ruin the group, everything that the guys have worked for, everything that you’ve worked for… It’ll be ruined. You won’t just give up when you can, you won’t give me back what’s mine. It’ll all be on you.” 

It was a threat, but it wasn’t nearly as scary as the possibility of never being with you again, of never holding Chana again. “The guys know where my priorities lie, and if you’re willing to destroy the group because of your selfishness and your inability to realize that you’ve screwed up for good, then that is entirely on you. You can take your guilt tripping elsewhere because quite frankly, we don’t need it, nor do we want it. Go home.” 

“You won’t win…” Minho muttered as he stepped back, his hands shoved angrily in his pockets. “I won’t let you win this… I’m gonna see her… They’ll both be mine, all mine…” He continued ranting as he was practically ushered out of the doors. It wouldn’t be the last you’ve all seen of him. He wasn’t going to give up until he got what he wanted, and he wanted you, he wanted his daughter. He realized his mistakes, he’s suffered for them, he’s regretted them since day one of being caught. It was time for forgiveness, at least in his eyes it was. He’d get that one way or another, he was sure of it. 

///

“What’s this?” You asked, walking into the kitchen, your daughter snuggled close against your chest. The white envelope with the massive bold letters had immediately caught your eye, and you shifted Chanas weight into one arm so you could grab the mail off the table and look at it. “Have you seen it yet? It’s already opened…” 

Chan was leaning over the counter, his back turned to you, almost entirely hunched over. He was silent, but his body was shaking, the veins of his arms protruding as his fingers gripped onto the edge. “He won’t give up…” Chan mumbled, finally turning to face you, his fingers running through his hair. You could see the pain in his eyes, the faint streaks of tears on his cheeks that he had attempted to wipe away. “Let me hold her while you read it… I’ll take her…” 

Your eyebrows wavered, worried about what could be inside the envelope, but you had a pretty good feeling of what it was, so you handed your daughter over to Chan before slipping out the paper. “A fucking summons? Is he serious right now?!” You screeched as you read the bold letters at the top of the paper. “He’s going too far… I thought he’d give up. I… I need to talk to him… Maybe he’ll-“ 

“No!” Chan practically shouted, his eyes glancing down at Chana and then back at you before taking a deep breath that left his lungs shakily. “No…” He repeated, his eyes closing as he continued to take deep breaths to calm himself. “I don’t want you talking to him. We can handle court, I’ll have one of the guys or something… They can babysit Chana… You can talk to him in court. You’re not… You’re not talking to him right now. He’ll try to use whatever you might say against you… I know how he works.” 

You lowered down into one of the chairs at the table, dropping the paper down on the surface before burying your face in your hands. “She’s not even three months old yet… He’s already trying to take her away from us…” Your words were muffled in your palms, and it wasn’t made any better that you were already beginning to cry. “If he… If he takes her… I need to go with her, Chan… I-“ 

He shushed you, walking over to stand beside you, brushing his fingers over your hair. “Don’t say things like that. I’m not letting him get her, and I’m not letting him get you. He’s not getting my girls, not now, not ever. Please don’t think like that. You’re not going anywhere.” He leaned in to press a kiss to the top of your head. “We’ve got enough proof, enough witnesses to say that he’s not fit to be a father, he’s at work all the time… Plus, Chana is too young, she can’t be taken away from you. Everything is going to be okay. Believe me, trust me.” 

Your head shook fast, your hair falling around your face, small strands sticking to your tear coated cheeks. “It’s not that easy for me to believe… this is my daughter… my baby, we’re talking about. I won’t believe that things are okay until this is done, until it’s over with and he’s completely out of our lives…” You glanced up at Chan who looked like he was deep in thought as he swayed back and forth with your daughter in his arms. 

“I’m trying… I really am. I’ve got a lawyer and everything for this… I’m… I’m scared too. I don’t want him to take her… I love her, she’s our baby. I love you too, you’re my baby girl…” The pet name had you rolling your eyes, slightly flustered as you dropped your head to look at your knees. “He’s not going to win this, I won’t let him.” He slipped a finger under your chin, tilting your head back so you’d look back up at him, your glossy eyes reflecting the twinkling lights of the chandelier like stars. “You’re strong, you’re so strong, darling. I’ve watched you get over him, I’ve watched you carry a baby for 9 months and then push her out… You’re so much stronger than you think. If anyone can get through this, it’s you.” Passing your daughter into your arms, he pressed a kiss to your cheek before standing up straight again. “Take a deep breath, darling. We’re gonna get through this, together.” 

Permanent TL : @whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me -> (continued in the next line because html coding is ridiculous)

@mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin @his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc @syuuji @sanriiolino @yukichan67 @randomwimp @silentreadersthings @cutiespaghetti @its-hannjisung

People who wanted to be tagged in this specific fic : @hannie-bees @klyde06 @jihyun2monster @everglowdaisies @miniminkis

[hopelesslys-world]

STOCKHOLM SYNDROME | CH. 6

WARNINGS: NON-CON, Age Gap ( Massimo is 34 reader is 20 ), sex, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral (both female and male), yandere themes, stalking, KIDNAPPING, violence, harsh language, murder...

Tell me if I missed something... ( As you can see most of those warnings will make their appearance in future chapters. )

I apologize for any grammar mistakes...not edited

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐈́𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔́𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘 problems. The driver opened the door for Massimo while you were stuffing your things into your bag—they must have spilled out to the seat during the drive. Massimo rounded the car and opened the door on your side, offering you a hand. He was being very gallant, and in that linen suit of his, he looked simply overpowering.

As both of your feet touched the ground, he discreetly grabbed your ass, pushing you gently toward the entrance. You sent him a shocked glance—that was behavior worthy of an adolescent boy. But he only smirked, sliding his hand up to your back and leading you to the terminal.

That son of bitch...

You’d never had all the check-in formalities done so fast. All you had to do was pass through the building. When you emerged on the other side, another car picked the two of you up and drove you to a small plane.

As much as you enjoyed this whole process of being in an airplane, you couldn't help but be nervous and make your heart stop pounding.

You sat down on a plush leather couch, Massimo soon joined you sitting dangerously closer than you liked. A bottle of champagne arrived but you paid no mind to it wanting to get over with this flight in a calm and quick way as possible.

With Massimo on your side though your whish seemed utterly impossible...

His hand rested behind your hand, not touching you, just settling on the couch. His leaning towards you was obvious as hell, however you knew very well where this was leading.

"You know...I can't get off my head the image of you naked in the shower this morning." he said in a low seducing tone that made your heart pound faster each passing second.

You blushed heavy crimson from embarrassment and shyness and turned your head away from his close face. "No need to be shy with me now, princess. There's no shame wanting to get high in pleasure..." His fingers touched your chin making you look at him, your faces inches away from each other. "...What's a real shame is denying what you feel. You know that I'll be more than happy to provide you with everything you'll need."

Massimo's hand moved from your chin slowly down to your leg, sneaking in your bare skin from your skirts cut giving you strokes in the inside of your thighs that every now and then neared so close to your cunt.

As much as you wanted to give in, your untouched pussy was becoming wet with arousal, however, the incidents happening a few days prior kept your guard up and your reputation high. "No. I can't..." Your hands grabbed his and shoved it away from your thigh.

The Man in Black sigh heavily plopping back to his seated position. "You're making this harder than it has to be Y/N. It doesn't have to be this way." He declared in disappointment shaking his head in disapproval.

You tried. You tried really hard to keep your thoughts to yourself, Massimo provoked you all the fucking time it was impossible!

"Well, excuse me that I don't want to sleep with the man I know for a week, to be more specific the man who kidnapped me." You smiled sweetly at him, then your face got all pouty again.

He scoffed, you could imagine him rolling his eyes at you. "You need to move on, princess. You pouted enough already don't you think? You were so good and obedient today... don't ruin my mood...I want to reward you. Will you be my good girl?"

Massimo pulled you closer leaving a kiss on shoulder his hand behind you caressed your neck softly—teasingly with his fingers as his lips left kitten kisses which trailed upward, to your neck, to your throat and lastly your jawline before his movements came into a halt.

You needed to stop him, you had to stop him, you couldn't let this happen it wasn't right.

What the hell changed!? Just like this morning you despised him and then you wanted to have sex with him!? It doesn't make sense! Nothing makes sense anymore!

Was the sexual provoke too much? Or was it something else ... something deeper? Stockholm Syndrome perhaps. You've heard of this lot's of times from your friend who studied phycology... must be it.

"Answer me baby." He whispered.

Hesitantly, you nodded. Not wanting to awaken a heated argument.

"Use your mouth, baby girl. I want to hear you say it." Massimo looked you in the eyes, his dark brown eyes became completely black with lust and need.

"I will." You replied quietly, obviously meaning it untill he crossed another line.

"Come with me." The Man in Black said eagerly.

He stood up then lifting you up, he lead you in a corridor which was getting narrower in this part of the plane. Massimo had to turn sideways to squeeze through. You entered a dark room with a bed in the middle.

You have to be stupid to not realise where this was going. It was entirely your fault, you let the strings too loose and got his confidence to get laid with you too high.

As soon as he closed the door he attacked your lips in a raw, desperate, way. Catching you surprised, your hands shot to his broad chest pushing him away but he didn't budge at all. Instead his tongue found yours, kissing you more passionately.

The back of your knees found the mattress and the Man in Black slowly lowered you to the soft sheets.

His lips left your mouth and attacked your neck leaving behind red marks in very visible spots. You had to act quick, he didn't even know that you were a virgin. You knew that this wouldn't be a pleasant experience, he was too fierce and worked up to be gentle.

"Massimo, please stop. You have to stop." You begged breathless by his hungry kisses.

"Tell me the real reason. Tell me why you won't let me have you. I know that you desire it as much as I do. Tell me." Massimo demanded.

Should you answer him? Probably, it was time he knows the truth anyway. Maybe he'll stop being so impatient and shameless.

"I've... I've never...done something like this before..." You admitted with your cheeks turning beetroot red.

It was obvious that he was shocked, definitely expecting another reason to your hesitance. His surprised expression turned into a smirk, "Aw, are you still a virgin? Poor baby, doesn't know what she's missing..." He bit his lip.

"Ugh, stop it already." You said in embarrassment turning your body away from him.

Massimo pinned you back to your previous position, "You might think that I'll quit wanting you, but I never step back from such a challenge... And to know that I'll be the first and only to claim you...fuck...you can't imagine how hard I am for you baby girl. Don't worry I'll teach you everything, I'll as gentle as I can, promise."

Despite your fear, you always wanted to do it, you were just too scared.

He started kissing you again this time a little more softly, his trail of pecks reached downwards again, to your line of breasts stopping altogether to take your skirt off you.

You lay still, squeezing your legs together, debating with yourself if you wanted to continue or not.

“Massimo, I'm not sure—” you started.

“I'll make you feel so good. Don’t be afraid, baby girl,” he said, pushing his hand between your legs. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

You squeezed your legs together even harder, whining softly with fear. “Shush,” he whispered. “I will part your legs now and start with just one finger. Relax.”

You knew he’d do as he was saying whether you wanted it or not. So you attempted to relaxed. “Good, just like that. Now spread those legs wide for me.”

You shyly did as you were told only that you slightly unsqueezed them

“You’ll be a good girl and do what I say now. I don’t want to hurt you.” Delicately, he started to kiss you on the lips while his hand slid down. With his other hand, he held your head, deepening the kiss. You yielded, and an instant later, your tongues were dancing, quicker and quicker. It was the first time you've allow this to happen.

“So good for me,” he breathed into your ear as his hand reached the fabric of your panties. “I love how obedient your are. Now, be still and don’t move.”

Massimo’s fingers slipped into the most intimate spot of your body which no one else have touched before. Slowly, with his lips right next to your ear, he explored further inside of your thighs, gently stroking them with two fingers, teasing you.

He rubbed your clit and you let out a breathless moan, he stroked up and down collecting and producing more arousal making a slippery little mess. Finally Massimo slid inside your unused pussy. It hurt a tiny bit, you hissed at the new sensation and squirmed relentlessly.

“So fucking tight. Don’t move and be silent. Do you understand?”

You nodded whimpering. His finger sank deeper, until it was all the way in. You clenched your teeth, trying to remain silent, while he started to move, subtly and sensually, inside you. His middle finger slid in and out, while his thumb softly fondled your clit. Your eyes closed and felt his weight subsiding and then shifting downward. You stopped breathing. His finger didn’t stop.

Massimo reached his destination. Suddenly, he slipped his finger out, making you wince. But then you felt his breath through your panties and your heart beat faster and harder.

“I’ve dreamed about it since I first saw you. I want you to talk to me when I start. Tell me if I’m doing it good. Direct me. I want to give you your first ecstasy,” he breathed, pulling your undergarment down your legs.

On instinct, you brought your legs together, embarrassed.

“Spread them wide for me. I want to see you.”

You appreciated his gentleness, the fact that he wanted you to feel more comfortable during your first intercourse. You slowly did as he told you and heard him inhaling deeply. He spread your legs wider, piercing you with his gaze, sinking deeper into you most intimate, secretive places.

“Touch me,” you moaned, unable to keep quiet anymore. “Please...”

Hearing that, he started steadily rubbing your clit, leaned down and sank his tongue in your wet cunt, his movements dynamic. You grabbed his hair pulling roughly, head rolled back at the new euphoric feeling. With the fingers of one hand he spread the lips of your pussy, wanting to reach that most sensitive spot.

“I want you to come, and I want to torture you with more orgasms until you beg me to stop. I want you to look at me. I want to see your face as you come, again and again.”

“Open your eyes Y/N” he demanded his mouth and fingers stopped.

Between your legs, Massimo was at the same time sexy and terrifying. He swooped in again, his lips caressing my clit, and two of his fingers impaled you. You closed your eyes, feeling pressure on your lower stomach.

“Massimo,” you whimpered.

His fingers kept stroking expertly, while his tongue never stopped.

“Kurwa mać!” You shouted in you native tongue as you came for the first time in your life. The orgasm was long and strong, overwhelming. Your body was taut like a string, trapped by what Massimo was doing. When you felt the orgasm subside, he rushed at your exhausted, tender, and sensitive clit again, almost painfully. You clenched your teeth until they grated, squirming—impaled by his two fingers.

“Please, no more...” your voice was weak cried after the next wave of painful bliss overcame you.

The Man in Black slowly relented, let your body cool down, softly kissed and stroked all the places that were hurting now. Your hips collapsed to the mattress when he was finished. As you lay still, he slowly pushed himself up, reached for the nightstand, fishing out a box of wet wipes. Gently he wiped the spots he had been attacking with such passion just a moment ago.

“See, I kept my promise this time,” he winked, and disappeared back into the main compartment.

You kept still for a moment longer, analyzing everything, but you couldn’t believe what had just happened. You only knew two things; that you were so sore now and that surely the feeling of regret washed over you.

Fuck, you regretted that stupid decision! What had gotten into you and allowed him to do this!? A stay tear escaped however you were quick to wipe it away.

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When you returned, Massimo was sitting in his seat, biting his upper lip lost in thought.

You sat down opposite him awkwardly, having no idea how to act around him anymore.

“So... what are our plans for today?” you asked quietly.

He smiled and poured another glass of champagne handing it to you.“You’ll learn in time. I’ll do some business and you’ll get to play the mobster’s girl,” he said, boyish amusement illuminating his face.

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When you landed, a pair of black SUVs and a whole security team was already waiting for you. One of the men opened the door for you, then shut it as you made yourself comfortable in your seat. Each time you saw those cars, you thought they held a little bit of magic—the way they moved all that stuff from place to place. How did those guys and those cars manage to keep pace with Massimo?

What broke your chaotic reverie, probably fueled by all those orgasms, were the words of your oppressor, uttered into your ear.

“I can't wait to be inside you,” he whispered, and his hot breath paradoxically chilled you to the bone. “To deflower that pretty tight pussy of yours. I’d like to feel your wet cunt close around my cock.”

Your breath hitched suddenly at his filthy words. You chose not reply and instead close your eyes and try to calm down the frantic beat of my heart. It grew a bit steadier. Out of nowhere, Massimo’s warm breath vanished, and you heard him saying something to the driver. The words were unintelligible, but after a few seconds, the car veered off the road and stopped. The man stepped out, leaving you two completely alone.

“Sit in the passenger seat in the front,” Massimo said, pinning you with his cold, black stare. He didn’t look like he was about to move himself, which seemed a bit strange.

What has gotten into him all of a sudden? Honestly, you didn't know if you could ever be able to handle his roller coaster mood swings...

“Why?” you asked, disoriented.

Massimo’s face took on an expression of annoyance, and his jaw clenched. “I’ll repeat it one last time: move or I’ll move you myself.”

Again, you couldn’t help it—his tone made your hackles rise. You wanted to resist, if only to see where it took you.

“You order me around like a dog. I am no dog.” you inhaled, intending to berate him for treating you like that, but you didn’t manage to utter another word. Massimo pulled you out of the car by force and then threw you into the front seat. He pulled your hands back, behind the backrest.

“Not a dog. A bitch,” he hissed, tying your hands with some kind of strap. Before you realized what was happening, you were sitting tied to the passenger seat, and the Man in Black sat behind the steering wheel. You started to wriggle your fingers, trying to feel your way around, turns out you'll never found out wutb what he tied you with.

“You like to tie women up?” you asked as he was fiddling with some settings on the dashboard.

“It’s not a question of preference in your case.”

He pressed the ignition button and a woman’s voice from the GPS directed him as he started to drive.

“My back hurts. And my arms,” you said after a couple of minutes.

“Well, I’m hurt, too, but for an entirely different reason. Want to compare?”

You knew he was angry or frustrated. You couldn’t differentiate between those two feelings in him, but you had no idea what you had done to cause this. And even if it wasn’t your fault, he was taking it all out on you.

“Ty cholerny, uparty egoisto,” you whispered in Polish. You damned, stubborn egomaniac. “As soon as you untie me, I’ll smack you so hard you’ll have to look for your teeth on the ground,” You ranted, still in Polish.

Massimo slowed down and stopped at a traffic light, turning to you and fixing you with a furious glare. “Now repeat that in English,” he growled.

You smiled disdainfully and spewed a whole litany of profanities in Polish—all directed at him. He didn’t move, but his glare was growing more furious by the second. As soon as the light turned green, he stepped on the accelerator.

“I’ll get rid of your pain. Or at least take your mind off it,” he said, his right hand found his to the cut of your skirt. His left hand was still on the steering wheel, but the right one slipped under your panties.

You squirmed and jerked in your seat, cursing him and begging him not to do it, but it was too late. “Massimo, I’m sorry!” you cried, trying to get out of his reach. “I’m not in pain anymore! And what I said in Polish—”

“Not interested in that anymore,” he said. “But if you don’t pipe down, I’ll have to gag you. I’d like to hear the GPS if you don’t mind, so shut up.”

His hand slid deeper into your underwear, and you felt a wave of panic flooding you. At the same time, you grew completely docile and stopped resisting.

“You promised you wouldn’t do anything against my wishes and be gentle,” you whispered, leaning back.

Massimo’s fingers irritated your clitoris smearing the wetness that slowly appeared by his touch.

“I’m not doing anything against your wishes. I’m just making sure your hands aren’t in pain anymore.” His touch was growing harder, and the circular motions were sending you down the abyss of his absolute power over you, as much as tried to resist it.

You squeezed your eyes shut and reveled in the feeling he was giving you. You knew he was acting on instinct—he had to divide his attention between two things: driving and punishing you.

You squirmed in your seat, when the car suddenly stopped. You felt his hand leaving, you thanked the universe for siding with you this time, not having to satisfy him with you orgasming again.

“We’re here,” Massimo announced, killing the engine.

You stared at him from half-closed eyelids. A voice in your head was screaming, raging and cursing him. You didn’t have to say it aloud. You knew well enough what his motivation had been. He wanted you to beg him. He wanted to show you how much you desired him, despite rebelling against anything and everything he said and did.

"That's great," you replied, rubbing at your wrists. They hurt so much. “I hope whatever was hurting you has stopped,” you said.

Here it was—that big red button in his head again. The Man in Black shot out with an arm, pulling you over himself, so you sat astride him with your back to the steering wheel. He grabbed you by the waist and pressed your cunt against his hard manhood. You gasped at his bold movement, raising your hips so you didn't sit on him.

“What hurts me,” he hissed, his fury threatening to boil over, “is that I haven’t used that mouth and pussy yet.”

His hips met yours again without your permission and were undulating lazily. That movement and the pressure of his penis made you breathless.

“And you won’t for a long, long time yet,” you whispered, “In fact, I have very much regretted what we did back in the plane.” you added deathly serious.

He froze, watching you closely, looking for answers to questions yet unasked, jaw clenched.

Your silent battle was interrupted by knocking on the window. Massimo lowered the glass, revealing the not-too-surprised face of Domenico. That guy certainly looks like he’s seen everything, you thought.

He said a couple of sentences in Italian, ignoring your position, and Massimo shook his head quickly. You had no idea what they were talking about, but it was clear the Man in Black wanted to have nothing to do with what Domenico was suggesting. When they were finished, Massimo opened the door and stepped out, keeping his hold on you.

You headed toward the hotel he had parked the car next to. You were still clutching him—he didn't let you down so you had no other choice, your legs around his hips. You could feel the surprised stares of the other guests as you passed them without a word, Massimo keeping a poker face.

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[ series masterlist ]

TAGLIST: ( THANK YOU ❤️ (if you want to be added comment in the chapters or send a message:) ) @lucidlivi , @sousydive , @lightdragonrayne

DON'T BE AFRAID TO SPAM WITH LIKES AND COMMENTS. I WOULD ALSO APPRECIATE IT IF YOU COULD REBLOG THIS POST <3

[ivymarquis]

I saw that post that @ceilidho shared of Barry looking all “tf are you doing out of bed” and then I had to write this down for John. Sidebar the title of this in my google docs is “John decides he’s keeping his ONS”

Get Back Here

Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| T Word Count| 863 Content/Warnings| This is post coital with them having fucked like rabbits but everything is above board. This theoretically would be such a nice jump off spot for a darker twist BUT my heart is still mostly fluffy for the cod boys. I am working on something a lil unhinged with Price tho.

While this piece is rated T, I am an MDNI blog. Minors + ageless blogs will be blocked.

If she has any sense in her head, she’ll slip out from the sheets while he’s snoring beside her, get dressed and fuck off back home.

Of course, how much sense she has at the moment is debatable at best because he went and fucked her brains right out of her skull.

Forget pipe- The man laid infrastructure earlier and it’s already screwing with her head. Making her really have to try and talk herself out of the urge to see where things go. The only thing she needs to see is where the fuck her drawers went. Getting dickmatized is a real struggle and while she doesn’t often go out, she lets the soldier sweet talk her on the expectation that there would be a fair degree of “get in, get done, get out”.

Post nut clarity is nowhere to be seen on his end, as he’d tucked her into the spot next to him with the promise of breakfast in the morning. A well deserved reward on her end for all her hard work.

Maybe her brain just likes to torture her but she starts to think that she’s just not meant for casual hook ups like this. He is kind and respectful and a phenomenal lay and her brain is already trying to twist this to justify finding a way to wrangle down another night with him. She just needs to rip this bandaid off and go.

Chalk this up as go-to spank bank fodder the next time she’s lonely.

It’s easier this way, she tells herself as she peels back the bedding he’d cocooned her in.

Less humiliating this way, to sneak away in the night as the cold bites at her as she gathers her clothes. All the while he’s snoring up a storm, assuring her that he’s still out of it and unaware of her escape attempt that is delayed by not being able to find her damn bra.

There’s a small part of her that somewhat feels bad for planning to sneak out in the middle of the night, but there’s a larger part of her that doesn’t want to hear whatever is his go to prompt when it’s time to kick his partner out of bed and back to the rest of the world.

She fixates on locating her wayward bra to the point she doesn’t notice the lack of white noise as he -John- stirs at the loss of her. She doesn’t see the way he gropes blindly at the space she was occupying not five minutes ago, nor the way his expression screws down into a scowl as realization sinks in when he fully awakens.

She does hear his huffed “The fuck are you doing?”, lacking any bite to it despite the phrasing. What she’s doing is fairly obvious given how her clothes are gathered in her arms as opposed to rifling through something she shouldn’t.

“I, um,” she blinks stupidly. He’s a gorgeous man, just enough moonlight filtering through the window so she can see him even in the dark. “I’m getting dressed,” finally her brain clicks into place.

His eyes are squinting at her as he blinks back sleep, shuffling partly up to get a better look at her, the blanket pooling at his waist. Christ her knees are already weak just looking at him again. “None of that,” he dismisses firmly, “it’s too cold, love. Come back to bed. Promised you breakfast in the morning anyway.”

She has a decision to make, she realizes- if she’s adamant about leaving it’s not like he’s going to keep her hostage. He has to let her leave.

But, her thoughts trail off, it is fucking cold. And that bed is incredibly warm. And she still doesn’t know where the fuck her bra is.

“Come on then, back you get.” He prompts with a pat to the spot she’d previously occupied, and that’s enough to make her fold (she can’t deny that she’s been lookin for a reason to fold all night, even if a part of her knows this is a bad, bad, bad idea). Setting her clothes back in a neat pile rather than them being strung all over the floor-still sans bra-, she returns to the bed and slides back under the covers he’s lifted for her.

Immediately his arm bands across her torso, pulling her in snug against him. Well, there’s certainly no sneaking away now. After a bit of shuffling as they settle in against each other, John ensuring there will be no more half hearted attempts to flee.

He doesn’t snore-likely keeping an eye on her to ensure she’s not going to run again- until she’s securely in that half-awake-half-asleep limbo. It’s incredibly easy to slip into. The room is cold, he is warm and the bed is so incredibly cozy. The math is very simple and the end result is her dozing in the arms of a man she can very stupidly see herself getting attached to- even if he snores like a bear.

Come morning, John makes good on his promise for breakfast.

She doesn’t end up needing to find her bra until two days later.