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obsessedwhyyes · 4 months ago

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A Sound Hypothesis

Part 1 of The Scientific Method series.

Summary: Inexperienced in the ways of love, you often find yourself labelled an overthinker. But then again, you are a scientist. When your incredibly beautiful travelling companion proposes a night you'll never forget, suddenly you're left wondering, are you really ready for this? Ever the scientist, you propose an experiment, and get more than you bargained for.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4762 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader Content: Act 1, smut with plot, inexperienced nerd reader, making out, oral sex (giving and receiving), hand job, cock worship, blowjob and handjob instruction (ie. Astarion teaches you how to pleasure him).

A/N: Can't believe this got to nearly 5k words, good lord. Actual smut comes in half way through, but it's still rather spicy before then. Also, writing handjobs is hard.

The events of the night prior felt like a dream, yet you remembered each moment vividly.

“I’m beginning to like the whole package, honestly,” he had purred, “and you clearly like me too, so I was thinking…”

You looked into his eyes as he gazed confidently, hungrily into yours. There was only him in this moment. Well, him and the quickened pulse of your heart pounding in your ears. You were certain he could hear it.

“We could take an evening to ourselves. Get to know each other a little more intimately.”

But you were struck with a hit of nerves then. You had lived a sheltered life before your abduction. A wizard and a scholar, your pursuits had been in the sciences and that of perfecting your craft, rather than in stolen moments of lust with beautiful strangers. Not to say you hadn’t experienced a few stolen kisses, however. But to give oneself entirely to another - that was a very different, much more intimidating affair. Yet there was no denying the spark that flickered between the two of you as you spent your days and evenings together, and that spark ignited a growing ache within you that lingered each night you retreated to your bedroll.

“I want to, Astarion. Gods, I really want to, but I’m…”

You hesitated and tore your eyes from him; fiddled with your fingers for a moment.

“You’ve never done this before,” he finished, causing you to look up suddenly from your busying hands.

“I had my suspicions. I’d have already bedded you twice over otherwise.”

You could only laugh, not only at the sheer audacity of his remark, but because of course he knew. Gods, he could probably smell the inexperience on you from a mile away.

“It’s your decision, of course. Should you wish to keep things light between us, we’ll end our evenings together as friends. If you decide you want a little more, however–”

He stepped closer to you - close enough to feel his cool breath on your skin and smell the freshness of his cologne.

“I’ll give you a night you’ll never forget.”

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering delicately where your neck meets the line of your jaw. He was playing you like a fiddle, and you knew it. But gods, if his tune wasn’t a siren’s song in the night. You wanted nothing more than to dance to it.

And then he kissed you.

Gods, the way he kissed you.

There was need, yes; a hunger not unknown to you even in your limited experience. But it was a hunger wrapped in a velvet blanket of familiarity, as though he had known your lips as long as his own. He was certainly skilled, there was no denying that.

The chill of the night air felt like a splash of cold water to your senses once his lips left yours, and you found yourself mourning the loss of his touch.

“Think about it,” he had said that night, before retreating back to his tent.

–

And here you are, wrapped in your bedroll, thinking about it. Ceaselessly.

About his voice, laced with the sweetest honey, speaking promises of nights wanton and dripping with ecstasy. About his smile, teasing and rakish, and the feel of his lips against yours which you missed like home.

You think about the times you let him feed from you; the gentle way he held you, one hand cradling your head. The soft, pleasured noises that would rumble from his chest as he grazed over the soft flesh of your throat - and sunk his teeth into it. Then, greedy, he would begin to pull you close, your chest flush against his own. Every time he fed, it was as though the gates holding back the flood of every primal vampiric instinct within him were unleashed at the taste of you; the ambrosia that is your life essence which you willingly gift to him. And every time he fed, before you reached the point of no return, you would break him out of his trance - a simple series of taps on his shoulder - and he would release you from his predatorial embrace.

It was in those moments, you would see the look in his eyes: ravenous, pupils blown, boring down into you as you lay there beneath him, vulnerable. Your gazes would linger and gods, how you imagined what it would feel like to be entangled with him; for him to take his pleasure from you.

No, you tell yourself. This has been going so fast. Your time together has been so short in the grand scheme of things yet, with the threat of ceremorphosis looming over you, your time on this mortal plane may be fleeting. One might argue that now is surely the time to experience that which you have not… isn’t it?

But what if this isn’t what you actually want and this aching need within you is simply a manifestation of the stress your increasingly bizarre situation has brought you? It is not unknown for one to develop bouts of hypersexuality in times of stress, or so you have read in books detailing such occurrences.

Suddenly, an idea presents itself. A scientist such as yourself requires a chance to gather all available evidence before coming to a conclusion. A little experimentation, perhaps. Then, you’ll know for certain if your attraction runs deeper than you give your body credit for. Your honed mind will not be governed by a set of primitive bodily urges - you’re better than that. You won’t allow it.

For now, sleep beckons. Tomorrow, you shall put your idea into practice.

–

The next day passes as swiftly as you had hoped. You’re eager to welcome the night. You and your companions had seemingly settled into a predictable routine when it came to your evening endeavours: your fellow wizard and friendly rival, Gale, would slave over the cook pot with the limited items you had procured over your journey, while the Blade of Frontiers himself regaled your group with stories of his adventures, punctuated with commentary from your remaining companions, ranging from crude to complimentary. Food would be eaten and domestic duties fulfilled, after which, everyone would begin their journeys to their bedrolls. Well, everyone bar you and Astarion. As the resident elves, you require far less rest than that of your travelling companions. It was in these moments, where the camp lay dormant and the two of you sit against a fallen log by the campfire, that you had developed something resembling a rapport with Astarion. You have become rather fond of your night time talks.

Tonight, however, you have plans beyond repartee.

You feel emboldened by your plan. Where before, you were thrown into territory unknown, unprepared and anxious, now you have the comfort of scientific method on your side. You know exactly what to say - you’ve thought of every possibility after all.

Sitting side-by-side, you turn to him, determined.

“I was thinking about your little proposition last night.”

“Were you now?” Astarion replies with a smirk on his lips and a gleam in his eyes.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet. I always imagined that the first time I, um…”

“Did the horizontal dance with an esteemed companion? Engaged in amorous congress? Fucked?”

“Had sex,” you quickly correct, halting his attempts to fluster you further. “I always imagined the first time I had sex would be under slightly less unusual circumstances. We’ve been under nothing but stress ever since we got off that damned Nautiloid. I can’t tell if this desire I’m feeling is because I truly want to spend the night with you, or because my body just wants a distraction.”

“Is that such a bad thing? We’ve worms in our brains and danger is lurking around every corner. Our time is short, darling. If I can provide our dear leader a little respite in these tumultuous times; offer up my services in her time of need, that sounds like time well spent, does it not?”

He shuffles closer to you, resting his arm behind you on the log which you both lean against.

“Besides,” he continues, his voice low and close to your ear, “you’ve been so good to me, offering up your neck for me to savour. It’s only fitting that I offer you a little distraction in return.”

“I don’t want to just… use you as a distraction, Astarion. Gods, I offered you my blood because I wanted to help you, not because I expected a favour.”

For a fleeting moment, his expression shifts. And just as quickly, his smirk returns, embodying a practised sultriness that has surely wrapped many a soul around his fingers.

“No,” you continue, “if I have sex, it will be because it’s something I truly want to do; that I’m ready for. Not just a fanciful distraction. I hope you feel the same.”

That expression again, barely noticeable. You can’t quite decipher it.

“So, darling,” he purrs, “what do you suggest?”

“I was wondering if I could kiss you.”

“Ha! Can’t get enough, eh?”

“I just think that, with a little more evidence, I might be able to see if this is something I’m truly ready for; to discern whether this desire is real, or simply a physical response to this gods-awful situation we find ourselves in.”

He laughs, seemingly amused by your reasoning, and your heart flutters at the sound. Unexpected.

“Gods, are you always such an overthinker?”

“I just think it would help me come to a decision.”

“Is that what this is then? Your little experiment?”

“I’m nothing if not a scientist,” you tease back.

“Alright, my dear. Your terms are acceptable. A kiss, for scientific reasons, of course.”

Of course, you say to yourself. That… is what this is, isn’t it? Simple evidence gathering?

You have no time to consider this as Astarion places a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze fully to his, and suddenly, you hear your pulse pounding loudly in your ears once more. Gods, his eyes are beautiful.

An easy smile, a tilt of his head, and he presses his lips to yours, delicate and familiar. He’s gentle, at first: his lips linger on yours a moment before kissing you again, a tender sensation. As you close your eyes and immerse yourself in the feeling, the world around you quietens. No longer do you hear the crackling of the fire as it dies, the chirps of insects, or the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

At this moment, all you know is him.

You succumb to the coolness of his touch, the smoothness of his skin, the freshness of his scent - sensations so overwhelming that your body responds of its own accord, letting free a soft moan into his mouth.

As though in response, Astarion’s hand lowers from your cheek and trails from your neck, your shoulder, to your waist, as though committing each dip of your body to memory, before pulling you closer to him. Your hands, in return, plant themselves against his chest. His body feels hard and angular against the softness of your own.

As his tongue seeks permission to dance with yours, there is a hunger; a fieriness that threatens to engulf you. The kiss deepens, and you realise with a start that your legs have entangled themselves with his.

Pull yourself together, your mind screams. You’re meant to be in control of your body, not the other way around.

Or so you think, when suddenly, Astarion’s hand moves to your arse - the cheeky sod - and he skillfully, seamlessly rolls you onto his lap, taking advantage of your entangled legs, purposefully positioning you so that you’re straddling him.

Shit.

You gasp. You had forgotten to breathe. He notices and, gods, the smug look on his face. He knows he’s taken you off guard, and worse still…

He knows the effect he’s having on you.

The wall you had carefully constructed between your mind and body begins to collapse, brick by brick. As you kiss, the final fragments fall away, and everything that was once separated threatens to come together in a powerful, unified surge of desire if not for the final threads of your self-restraint.

His body desires this as much as yours, it would seem. As you straddle him, his hands caressing you as they drag up and down your back, you notice a distinct hardness digging into you, oh so close to your core. It takes more willpower than you’ve ever known to not grind into that hardness, seeking the release which you ache for. You are a tautly drawn bow, the tension between your mental focus and physical yearning almost unbearable.

Noticing how stiff you become, Astarion retreats from your lips, tilting his head in playful curiosity.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, darling?”

“I… I…” You barely recognise your own voice as it strains to come out of you.

The bowstring snaps.

You yield.

Your mind and body merge into a mess of lust and desire, and you kiss him hard and greedily. He returns the enthusiasm in kind, releasing a groan into your mouth as he does so. You want this. You want him.

Astarion pulls himself from your lips and turns his attentions to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses where, other nights, he had sunk his fangs. As he does so, you hear his voice, husky in lust.

“You know, if you still need a little more “experimentation,” I have a couple more ideas for you…”

His voice gives you goosebumps.

“... I’m particularly skilled with my tongue, after all.”

You nod.

“Your tent or mine?”

–

As you’re pushed against the bedroll within the privacy of your tent, you’re overwhelmed by a desire to feel every inch of Astarion’s cool, hard body on yours. It was such a primal need, to be enveloped by him; an urge beyond anything you’ve experienced, causing you to wrap your arms greedily behind his neck as you kiss each other, pulling him closer, but never close enough. His hips grind against you slowly, deliberately, granting you a brief, delicious friction which sends shivers up your body and fuels the incredible ache between your legs.

Astarion sits back up on his knees, admiring the mess of you, a smile on his pretty lips. You can only imagine the state you must be in: hair wild, eyes wide and hungry, clothes dishevelled. But your appearance is a distant notion in the back of your mind as Astarion lifts the hem of your skirt and removes your undergarments, sopping wet from your arousal.

You feel vulnerable, exposed to him like this, your desire on full display in front of the very man who you spent nights dreaming about. While his lustful gaze lights a flush of red across your cheeks, it doesn’t cause you to recoil; instead, you find yourself emboldened as he lowers himself between your legs, holding your gaze with eyes hungry and hooded.

He drags his lips up your thighs, leaving kisses so teasing that brings forth the neediest of sounds from your chest. When he reaches your core, he slides a tongue up the slit of you, agonisingly slowly, painfully gently.

Head rolling back, you anticipate the feeling of his tongue within you, but then…

He diverts his attention back to your thighs.

Bastard.

“Astarion..!”

“Eager little pup, aren’t you? Don’t you worry, darling - you’ll get what you desire. Once I have my fun with you, of course.”

He shifts, propping your legs over his shoulders as he grants you an audacious glance and grazes his tongue over you once more, sending a wave of tingles radiating across your body.

You begin to pout at his teasing action, and–

His tongue enters you.

He glides it firmly from your entrance to your clit, lapping you up in one motion, releasing the most wondrous groan, as though the nectar of your arousal is sweeter than any honey.

And so, like a man starved, he devours you, gauging quickly the sensations you prefer, alternating skillfully between firm strokes of his tongue, and the most teasing of flickers across your clit.

Your back arches, and you can do nothing but grasp at the edges of your bedroll as he works at you, leaving you in a state so blissful that you don’t notice the wanton sounds being cried from your lips.

“Easy, love,” he purrs, the loss of his tongue against you causing you to whimper. “As much as I enjoy hearing those delectable sounds of yours, let’s not wake the others, hm?”

You can only cover your mouth with your hands in a feeble attempt to hush yourself as he continues his ministrations. As your eyes meet and the pleasant ache in your core begins to swell into an all-encompassing warmth across your body, you wonder if this is what it feels to be revered as a deity would, your every sensation treated with the kind of awe that only a god might know.

It is when he enters you with his fingers - first one, then two, thrusting in rhythm with his tongue - that the warmth, now an inferno, reaches its peak. It surges through you like a divine crescendo, each wave of your climax a new blessing that floods your senses with a celestial rapture, singing his name like the sweetest hymn.

He caresses your thighs as he brings you down slowly from your high, grounding you.

As you return once again to this mortal plane, the lingering euphoria elicits a fit of giggles from you.

“Well,” Astarion smiles in return, removing himself from the home he has made between your legs, “you certainly seemed to enjoy yourself.”

“I did. I really did. Thank you.”

As you both sit yourselves upright once more, he presses another kiss to your lips. You taste yourself on him.

“I hope our little experiment was very informative for you,” he says with a wink. His words are teasing, but spoken with a gentleness that surprises you.

The truth is, you do have one more idea.

“Can I, um… Can I do the same for you?”

“What?” He says a little too quickly. Noticing this, he brushes his hair back with his hand to a more presentable condition, regains his composure, and continues. “I mean, you don’t have to. To see you squirm under my touch, that’s pleasure enough for me.”

“I want to make you feel good too.”

“You want to?”

That same indecipherable expression. A man with as many notches on his bedpost as he claims must have had some less than favourable conquests every now and then… Perhaps he’s had some bad experiences when receiving too? You suddenly find yourself cursing your lack of experience in these matters. You’re not exactly brimming with social expertise either.

“I probably won’t be the best - not as good as you - but I want to try. I always find that the best way to develop one’s skills is to practise under the guidance of a trusted expert. So… could you teach me how to make you feel good?”

Your gazes linger for a moment as he seems to assess your resolve.

Seemingly satisfied, he smirks, a well-practised aura of sultriness fitting back into place once more. All traces of that mysterious expression dissipate before your eyes.

“Well, darling, if you’re so eager to please me, who am I to stop you?”

You slide up to sit next to him as he begins to unlace his trousers, and suddenly you find yourself unsure of where to look. You’ve a scholar’s knowledge of the physical form; men’s anatomy is no stranger to you from an analytical perspective. And yes, you’ve fantasised about Astarion’s… parts before, as much as you have tried to deceive yourself into believing it was nothing more than a passing, intrusive thought. Yet, now that you’re here, about to perform the most intimate of acts to your beautiful travelling companion for the first time, you become bashful. You can’t quite believe the situation you’ve gotten yourself into tonight.

Yet, as he lowers his trousers and underwear to his thighs, revealing himself to you, all thoughts of bashfulness, of anxiety, cease to be for a moment.

“Hells, Astarion.” You look upon his hardened member with disbelief, measuring its girth against your arm. “How is that going to fit inside me, exactly?”

A slip of the tongue.

He grins, very pleased with himself. “Getting ahead of ourselves, are we?”

… And there returns that familiar flush of heat to your cheeks. Shit.

His chuckling lets you know that he has, in fact, noticed your embarrassment.

Seeking to swiftly change the subject to the much more pressing matter at hand, you ask, “can I touch you?”

In wordless agreement, Astarion guides your hand to his cock, which glistens slightly from the beads of precum elicited from the head. As you hold it, his hand remains over yours, coaxing you to move up and down the shaft.

His cock isn’t warm as you would imagine a regular man’s to be, owing to his vampiric nature, but you note its hardness; the way it pulses beneath your touch; the way his foreskin glides over the head so seamlessly. You squeeze him, fascinated.

“Gently, love. Like this.” He demonstrates by applying a light pressure to your hand and twisting ever so slightly as you both reach the tip, then loosening his grip as he slides you back down his length. You repeat the motion, tentatively. Gods, you hope you're doing this right. He made you feel incredible. You want him to feel incredible too. But oh, what if you hurt him, what if you–

��A-ah…”

The softest sigh of pleasure from your companion interrupts your thoughts. It sends wonderful shivers throughout your body. You find yourself eager to coax more of those little sounds from him.

A newfound confidence flares within you, and you gradually increase your pace, up and down and up and down the shaft, squeezing and twisting lightly as your beautiful instructor taught. In a sudden bout of curiosity, you glide your thumb over the head on your way back down and–

“Ah!”

There it is again. That most delicious sound.

“Exactly like that, darling. Exactly like that.”

He removes his hand from yours as you continue to pump him - you are a fast learner, it would seem - and moves it to reach your cheek, turning you to face him. As he leans his forehead against yours, you notice his breathing has become heavier, just ever so slightly. Instinctively, your breathing begins to match his, and you feel an intensity in the air that gives you goosebumps. Then he kisses you, and it is hungry. Ravenous. Greedy. His hand moves from your cheek to the back of your head, gripping your hair lightly, pressing your lips firmly against his.

As you continue to pleasure him, you find yourself becoming greedy too.

You want to taste him.

Between gasps for air, you ask him, “can I use my mouth on you? The way you did for me?”

“Mmhm,” he says into your kiss. It feels almost a shame to remove yourself from his lips, but you have greater plans yet.

You both reposition yourselves. He turns to lie himself back on the bedroll, and you crawl down his body to position yourself between his legs. So close to his cock, you find yourself admiring it, taking in every detail: the thick vein on the underside of the shaft, the way the head throbs a colour darker than the rest, eager for release.

You're overwhelmed with a primal desire - a need - to please, to give.

To worship.

“Gods, it's beautiful,” you think aloud.

“I know,” he remarks confidently in return. You roll your eyes at his arrogance, but in this moment, in your eyes, even you can't deny that his cock is perfection. Your mouth waters at what is to come.

You hold his member delicately, like a jewel most precious, planting kisses up his length. A soft sound escapes from Astarion’s lips and suddenly you are emboldened, determined to gift him with bliss as he had gifted you. To do so, however, you would need a little instruction.

“Tell me how to please you,” you plead, and you feel him twitch at your words.

“You are eager,” he purrs, propping himself up with his hands to gaze down at you. You notice a shiver and a sigh, ever so slight, when you trail a line of wetness from base to tip with your tongue.

“In that case,” he continues, brushing a strand of hair from your face, granting him a better view of you, “lick your lips and hold it at the base. Then I want you to get to know it a little, so to speak. Use your mouth around the head and start slowly - there's no point in rushing in, eh?”

You obey, shaking off the lingering feelings of bashfulness at the directness of his words, and wrap your lips around him. Out of curiosity, you swirl a flattened tongue around the head and gods, his skin is so smooth, still slightly salty from precum. His cock twitches and you hear him gasp above you - he’s especially sensitive there, it would seem.

Where are his other sensitive spots, you wonder.

Time to experiment. You are nothing if not a scientist.

You bob your head and relax your jaw to the best of your abilities, taking in just a little bit more of him each time your mouth glides up and down, keeping your tongue flat against him to flick against the sensitive tip each time you glide back up the length. The sounds he makes - oh, those sounds. His moans are like velvet, a soft, deep timbre that caresses your senses and makes your loins ache once more. Every murmur seeps into your being, igniting your senses and fuelling your need to explore every inch of him. You continue your journey down and down his length, savouring the taste and the texture and–

You gag as his cock touches your throat.

Astarion recomposes himself. “Easy, darling. Use your hand where your mouth can’t reach.”

“Like this?” Your hand pumps the shaft in rhythm with the motions of your mouth and tongue, and Astarion’s head rolls back for a moment.

“Like that,” he exhales heavily, “and suck gently.”

There’s a certain sense of empowerment, unravelling him like this. You relish in every moan that escapes his lips, every twitch and pulse of his cock as you attend to him. The lewd, wet sounds emitted as your hollowed cheeks suck his length. His hand finds its way to your hair, fingers weaving through the strands with a gentle authority, pushing you hard enough to guide you to an ever-quickening rhythm, but gentle enough not to force himself down your throat.

“Use your other hand,” he says between breaths, “hold the balls softly.”

You do as he says, giving them the gentlest of squeezes as you attend to him, and his breaths grow deeper, uneven. You sense the rising tension in him, a tide gathering strength beneath the surface.

He gives one final instruction.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes meet with a stormy intensity and, as you pump up and down with your lips and fingers at a dizzying pace, the intensity seems to surge through him with the force of an ocean swell, powerful and all-encompassing.

With a tremor and a groan so delicious that you find yourself moaning instinctively in response, his cum fills your mouth. Your eyes water, taken by surprise by the force of his release, but you do your best to swallow each wave, releasing him with a wet pop as his climax subsides.

Some moments pass and, in the afterglow, the tent is filled with a comfortable, profound stillness, and only the sounds of heavy breathing - yours and his - as you both return to your senses.

“Did you just..?” He asks, breaking the silence.

“I did,” you reply with a grin, showing him your tongue to reveal that not a drop went to waste.

He laughs warmly, and your heart flutters.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He kisses you deeply as he sits up, seemingly undeterred by the taste of himself.

“I think I’ve gathered enough evidence to consider your proposition,” you say teasingly.

“Tomorrow night then, darling?”

Bastard.

But yes, you think to yourself. Tomorrow night. You’re ready.

Part 2, An Empirical Study, can be found here!

Masterlist can be found here.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion smut #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction

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nightmare-niko · 3 months ago

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Routines In The Night [Nicholas Alexander Chavez x reader]

Warnings: alcohol consumption, vague-ish descriptions of clubbing, raw sex (don't do that), completely self-indulgent

A/n: i am just a girl and i cannot help the things my mind comes up with. also this is my first actual smut in years so lmk how I did hehehe

Word count: 2273

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

It's been quite a long time since you went out with your friends. Life gets in the way sometimes! But tonight, the stars have aligned, and all of your schedules lined up perfectly. You don’t remember being this excited to see your friends, but now you all were in your apartment getting ready for your night out.

"So I don’t know when the boys are gonna get here-“ your best friend; Violet sits on your bedroom floor, curling her hair. “But I think Evan said something about bringing a new friend?”

“Violet you can't just let strangers hang with us! What if he's a weirdo?!" You’re mostly joking. You knew your friends. Realistically you had nothing to worry about.

“What if he’s ugly?” your other Friend interjects.

“Oh my god! Hayley!” Violet chokes out a surprised laugh.

“What it’s a valid question!” She defends.

"I'm sure he will be completely normal." You try to expel the chaos beginning to build throughout your small apartment while the three of you continue to get ready.

•

An excessive amount of knocks on your door makes you jump.

You grumble obscenities on the way to open your door. "You know Evan- You don't have to—“ you stop in your tracks. Sure, there was Evan and your other friend Mike, but there was also a new guy—a beautiful guy. Was it suddenly getting hot in here??

"Oh okay drool much?" Evan jokes and you snap out of your man-induced trance.

“Hi, I'm Nick" he offers his hand for you to shake.

Your hand is quite small compared to his, but unlike most guys you’ve met, his hand is gentle. He certainly isn't trying to crush your hand (why do guys do that?). As the other guys walk into your apartment, Nicholas stays in your doorway with you as you introduce yourself,

“Come in! You have to meet the others!" You take his hand and lead him into your living room.

•

The music was loud, the air was hot, and the lights pulsed and changed erratically. You danced along to whatever generic set the DJ played, you honestly were too drunk to care. This is what you needed. While you and your girls danced carelessly with each other, the guys stayed back at your table.

All of them seemed pretty caught up in their drunken conversations. Not Nicholas though, no. His eyes had been on you the second you clambered onto the dance floor. You loved it.

You felt Violet's arm wrap around your waist, "are you gonna deal with that? " She borderline shouts in your ear to combat the loud music. "Who? Pretty boy over there?" You lock eyes with Nick across the room, he quickly looks away—taking a sip of his drink. "Maybe... you think you can get Hayley distracted so I can lure him ?"

She giggles and pulls away; you don't care how Violet was planning on making distance-- but you trusted her. With a sensual sway of your hips, you walk over to Nicholas. None of your other friends seem to notice your presence, not that you mind though.

"So, you gonna keep on staring or are you gonna dance with me?"

The man before you smirks, he takes you in quickly, "How about both?" He offers his hand to you. You take it gratuitously, even in your heels he had height over you. It was hot. Maybe it was the lights or the alcohol in your system-- or maybe both, but you had to have him.

To say the two of you were dancing was a stretch, to say the least… You wrap your arms around his neck, you were so not remembering this tomorrow at the rate you were going.

“How long were you going to sit there staring at me for?” Your question was light-hearted at best.

"Until I was blackout probably," He laughs shyly.

You laugh along with him, grinding along to the beat of the music, you could live this moment forever. "Usually everyone comes back to mine and sleeps over after clubbing. You down?”

He smiles, "Sure, why not.”

•

Somehow you managed to get all of your drunk friends back to your home safely. Now all you had to do was (try to) relax, you sneak away from all of your friends and into your bedroom.

It took you longer than usual to remove your makeup and change into your pajamas due to the drinks you had tonight, but you managed.

What time was it? You didn't know, your phone was dead!

Back in your living room, your friends lay sleeping (?) scattered around Violet and Hayley both still in their makeup and heels. You didn't dare wake them, they knew where your makeup wipes and extra clothes were. All you needed was your bed.

•

4 am. It was 4 am and you were wide awake. Wide awake with a raging headache, that is. You groan before tugging off your oh-so-comfortable blanket. The hardwood floors were cold against your bare feet-but you didn't care.

Stumbling to the kitchen through the darkness of your home was a situation you found yourself often, but now you had the added addition of staying quiet. The last thing you needed was more hungover zombies.

The moonlight from your open windows lit up your kitchen counter just enough for you to grab the nearest pain relief medicine and a drink in peace. Now here came the hard part-- walking back in the dark. Why didn't you bring your phone?!

The door of the bathroom swings open-- you gasp dramatically. "Jesus Nick! You fucking scared me,” you whisper yell at the taller man.

"Sorry! I had to— uh I didn't think anyone was awake." He flicks off the light and steps closer to you.

The moonlight paints across Nicholas’ face in a way that has you speechless. "Well, uhm-are you -" You stumble over your words. "Do you need anything? A blanket? Water? I can see if there are sweatpants you can wear."

For a moment you think he's going to decline your offer-- “Actually, a blanket and sweats would be awesome… If you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all-- Here follow me.” You continue your path to your bedroom, only this time with the hottest man you've ever seen trailing behind you.

Inviting him into your room! What if he gets the wrong idea? (Is it the wrong idea if you really do wanna fuck?) "Sorry for the mess... You can sit on my bed while I look." You awkwardly point at your bed as if its location wasn't obvious. "It's cute in here, very cozy." Nicholas takes in his surroundings— trying and failing to distract himself from your extremely short pajama shorts. "Thanks, here." You hand him some clothes leftover from friends, "Hope they fit." You hear him mutter a thanks before you go back to searching for a blanket. Why is he being so quiet? When you look over at him, he's staring: again. You bite back a laugh.

”You have quite the staring problem, you know?” You tease. He smiles something wicked, his dark brown eyes dark with want. Why stare when you can just shoot your shot?”

He throws his hands up in defense, "I mean hey, I made it this far!”

“Oh yeah- "You remark sarcastically, "Remind me what base ‘sitting on a hot girl's bed and staring at her ass’ is again?"

"Oh, so that's how we're playing it?" He stands up and takes one big step towards you

“That's how we're playing it.” You tease, standing up on your tippy toes to drape your arms over his shoulders.

His large hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. He hums in acknowledgment of your teasing. He was hard, you could feel him through his jeans.

How did you get into this situation? Were you complaining though?

No, not at alt. Nicholas' large hand cups your face sensually.

The Kiss was electric, not rough, but dominant. You didn't have the energy to fight for control, you just wanted him. Dazed, you pull back from the kiss. "I can't focus with you pressed against me like that." Your hands shoot from his neck to his belt buckle. “Bed, now." You demand, he quickly clambered onto your bed.

You pull his pants down to his ankles, and Nicholas kicks them the rest of the way down. Your heart racing as you follow him onto the bed, straddling his lap. His hands found their way to your hips, gripping them firmly as you leaned in for another heated kiss.

"Are you sure about this?" Nicholas whispered against your lips.

"Absolutely," you run your hands down his chest.

As things heated up between you two, a sudden noise from the living room made you both freeze. You remembered your friends sleeping just outside your bedroom door.

"We should keep it down," you giggled softly, pressing a finger to Nicholas' lips.

He nodded— a mischievous glint in his eyes. He presses a quick kiss into your lip and flips you onto your back. You find your eyes drifting down his torso, his cock tented in his boxers. You snap your eyes back up to his, the air thick with tension.

“Kiss me,” you beg, and he listens immediately. you tug on his bottom lip and he groans lowly. the position you were in made it impossible for you to not cross your ankles behind his back, pushing him against your throbbing core. You whimper, almost pathetic, but you couldn't care less about that right now.

You whine again, this time a desperate plea for more. “Mmm… Nick—please~” You beg against his lips.

“Tell me,” he commands. You whine again as his lip trail kisses along your neck, leaving marks at the base.

“More~” you manage to joke out.

“What do you want, beautiful? All you need to do is say it and I'll give it to you.” His voice is sultry against your ear, his breath leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“Clothes. off,” you demand.

You hear him chuckle sensually, as he leans back on his haunches. You swear all time freezes as you watch Nicholas take off his shirt. He was already the most attractive person on the planet with his pants off, and now here he was. Towering over you in his underwear, while you still had all of your clothes on. That had to change, sit up briefly as Nicholas helps you take off your sleep shirt.

Nicholas kisses you again, pushing you back down onto your plush pillows. In the heat of your kiss, Nicholas takes off your sleep shorts and leans back— he groans at the sight before him.

“look at you~” he tuts, “all fucked out and I haven't even touched you yet.”

“Nick, please-” you whine, bucking your hips in the air, desperate for any kind of friction. “Don't tease!”

finally, Nicholas stands up from your bed. Pulling his boxers down his boxers, revealing his throbbing cock. The tip is red and angry— leaking with precum. your mouth watered just at the sight.

he climbs back over you and back in between your thighs. his hungry eyes, fixed on your core as he runs his tip over your clothed clit. you whimper again— just as you're about to open your mouth to complain, he pulls your panties to the side and pushes into you in one motion.

You bite down on your lip to try to conceal your moan but the noise that you make is still extremely loud. the stretch burned, but god it felt heavenly. Nicholas clashes his mouth back onto yours at an attempt to hush your sounds— not that he wanted to. He wanted the whole city to hear you, but all of your friends were in the next room and that was not a conversation he wanted to have.

The steady rock of his hips has you barreling quickly towards your orgasm. The kiss is sloppy and rough— you couldn't think of a better thing to be doing at 5 am. He trails wet kisses to the sweet spot below your ear, then to your neck and collarbone.

With one hand tightly gripped on your hip, he was close. You knew because his thrusts were getting sloppier and rougher. With one final bite of the base of your neck, he sits up— free hand rubbing circles on your clit as the new angle had him hitting right you needed him.

Your back arches off of your bed in a dramatic display as your orgasm takes over you— you swear you blacked out for a moment. Nick pulls out of you in a hurry, white ropes of cum paint your torso and face and he groans gutturally.

the once cold air in your bedroom was now hot. the only sound was the combined sounds of you and Nicholas trying to catch your breath. sleep takes over you as you feel Nick wiping the cum off you with whatever was nearby.

"So," Nicholas whispered, running his fingers through your hair, "does this mean I get stay here tonight?" he brought a clean blanket over your naked bodies.

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "If that's not what that means I have no idea what does."

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

@Nallasstuff @chmpgneprblem @qoopeeya

@lilybellalana @sleepysongbirdsings

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iamnotoriginalphil · 27 days ago

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Stolen Treasures (Pirate!Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)

Synopsis: When a mysterious woman surprises you in your father's garden late at night, you weren't expecting to meet a pirate captain. You certainly weren't expecting to find her so alluring. And you certainly weren't expecting to want her enough to run away from your perfect life to join her.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: none

Tags: @sasheemo @buttercandy16 @chlondykebar @midnight-lestrange @babybeeelle @dontsblameme@grilledcheeseandguavajelly

A nighttime walk in the garden was typically frowned upon by your father, but the air was heavy and hot, licking at your skin until you were drenched in sweat. Slipping out of bed, you moved on bare feet from shadow to shadow, avoiding the silvery moonlight begging to catch you. Your father’s men were stationed through the house, facing the windows, standing guard against the forces that might try to invade your home.

The sea breeze was a relief against your skin when you managed to sneak out into the garden. The salt on the air was familiar, a comforting hug after the night of tossing and turning under the heavy quilt you’d been forced under hours ago. Tilting your head back, you closed your eyes and inhaled deeply. Your fingertips trailed over the soft petals of the roses your father had had planted, soothing after the heat of the night.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting to find something so beautiful in this garden.”

Your eyes snapped open, your previous calm fleeing faster than you thought was possible. A hand clutched over your heart, you felt it thundering, loud in your ears. Stepping out of the shadows, like a demon from your most tempting dreams, a beautiful woman was grinning at you. Black hair half pinned, curling around her face, large blue eyes swept over your body. Your thin nightdress suddenly felt too flimsy to hold up under scrutiny.

Her own dress was as dark as her hair, cinched in at the waist, neckline lower than anything your father would ever let you wear. You found yourself staring. Her skin was pale, almost glowing in the moonlight, and you were given over to the sudden thought of running your fingertips over it just as you had with the roses. You could imagine her skin would be just as soft under your touch.

“Our roses are beautiful,” you said, as if that was a reasonable response to a stranger lurking in your garden in the middle of the night.

“And yet they still don’t come close to comparing to your,” she said.

“Who are you?” you managed to ask.

She took your hand, palm warm. Lips pressed to the back of your fingers, lingering longer than was appropriate. Looking up at you from where she was bowed over your hand, her blue eyes were twinkling, lips curled up in a small smile. Your heart skipped a beat, breath stilling in your chest, suspended in the moment.

“Agnes,” she replied, straightening up, breaking the spell, “Agnes O’Connor.”

Your brow furrowed. It didn’t feel right, the name, like she’d slipped on a skin that didn’t quite fit. Too loose. It wasn’t right but to suggest to her face within moments of meeting her that she was lying was horribly impolite.

Not that you thought the usual rules applied to a woman you met in your garden in the dead of night in your nightdress.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

A smile unfurled over her face and her eyes swept over you again. You shivered, curling your arms around your body. There was something about her gaze that set your blood on fire, a feeling you weren’t familiar with. No one had looked at you the way she did, like you were something interesting, an anomaly, but one that fascinated her.

“I am,” she replied.

“Why are you in my father’s garden?” you asked, the question hanging over you from the moment you’d seen her.

“Your father? That must make you the jewel of the town,” she said, “I’ve heard about you.”

“You have?” That sent a thrill of pleasure down your spine.

“And if I may say, the rumours don’t do you justice. You’re far more beautiful than they say,” she said.

“Who are you?” you asked again, wondering how one woman with a few well placed compliments could make your heart flutter when none of the suitors your father had paraded you in front of had managed to get so much as a second look.

“Someone hoping to take a walk through this lovely garden in the cool night air,” she said.

You stared at her, wondering where she’d come from, who she was really, what she wanted. She was everything your father had taught you not to be, brash and refusing to ask for permission to do anything, charming and beautiful, enticing in all the worst ways. If he saw her he would call the guards on sight.

So why did you want to give her anything she wanted?

“Take a turn about the garden with me?” she requested.

Her arm slipped through yours, tugging you along. You followed, bare feet on cool grass so different from the warm rugs inside. It wasn’t a surprise that she wasn’t following the carefully planned paths in the garden, but striding where she wanted. You let her without complaint.

“Your father should keep you under lock and key. Someone might be tempted to steal you away right from under his nose,” she said as she bent to look at some of the lavender you’d helped the gardener plant.

“No one is interested in stealing me,” you replied.

“No?” She looked up at you, her tongue dragging along her lower lip, making the fire in your veins reignite. You shook your head, “that surprises me.”

“Does it?” you asked.

“There will always be people looking to steal a jewel. Especially when one is owned by a powerful man,” she said.

“I think you’re overstating my reputation,” you laughed, “no one thinks about me like that.”

“You don’t hear how they talk about you in town,” she said.

“Then why am I still unmarried?” you asked as she straightened again.

“Perhaps your father isn’t ready to let his crown jewel go?” she suggested.

“He parades me around like a prize heifer in the hopes one of the men with bid on me,” you said, lips twisting in distaste.

You surprised a laugh out of her, face brightening, as if she saw some kind of potential in you. You preened, remembering how it felt, tucking it away to revisit later on when this enigmatic woman disappeared, leaving you in your little life.

“Then all those men should be taken to the local asylum,” she said, “I would empty my coffers to have you.”

Your cheeks heated with the pleasure her statement gave you. And the implication. To be married to this woman might not be so bad. It might even be enjoyable. Not that your father would ever consider it. She was the kind of match he’d believe would bring shame to the family. You were waiting for the news he was sending you somewhere far from home to ensure a match. Somewhere you didn’t have to meet the man before the wedding.

“I’m not property to be owned,” you said instead. It was the exact kind of statement that had turned half the suitors away from you.

“No, you’re not,” she said and the flash of pride over her face made your heart skip a beat.

“I wish my father saw it that way,” you said.

You had no idea why you felt comfortable enough telling this woman something you hadn’t managed to express to your own father. Perhaps it was the fact you were certain you’d never see her again. Or perhaps it was the way she turned your head fuzzy with how close she was. Her body was brushing against yours, her warmth seeping through the thin nightgown you wore.

You wanted to know who she really was.

Then she was dragging you into a shadow, her hand tight on your arm. Your back rested against the old apple tree, rough bark scraping through the cotton of your nightgown. Her body rested against yours, long lines pressed together in the shadows of the tree. You felt breathless, her own breath brushing against the vulnerable skin of your neck.

“What?” you tried to ask.

“Shh, love,” she said, her hand pressing against the swell of your hip.

At this distance you could see the faint freckles dusting her nose, the blue eyes every shade of the sea, her pink lips parted as she focused on you. The sound of two voices passed, a slow wander through the garden. Shrinking back, your hand on her waist pulled her closer into the shadows. You shouldn’t, a stranger breaking into your father’s property something you should report to the guards he paid to keep you safe, but there was something in you screaming to keep her hidden.

Her body relaxed as the voices moved further away, growing fainter with every passing moment. Still pressed against you, one had against the trunk of the tree by your head, the other still on your hip, you felt caged in but not trapped. It was a safe feeling, and yet you felt more alive than you had in years. It was like being in a carriage hurtling out of control. You wanted more of it.

“You didn’t give me up to your father’s guards,” she said.

“It’s not a crime to wish to walk through a garden,” you replied.

“Or to enjoy the company of a beautiful lady,” she replied, her voice husky, her gaze lingering on your mouth.

Your own eyes found her lips, wondering if they would be soft against your skin and what they might taste like. Her tongue ran along her lower lip again and you found yourself entranced. Her low chuckle was music to your ears as you found yourself leaning closer to hear better.

“Tell me, love,” she murmured, close enough her breath ghosted over your face, “did any of those suitors you spent time with manage to steal a kiss?”

“Of course not.” Just the suggestion was insulting.

“May I?”

Your father would crucify you if he knew. You would be ruined. But there, in the shadows and the moonlight, the cool sea breeze brushing over your skin, you thought the risk was worth it.

“Please,” you whispered.

Her lips brushed against yours, as gentle as a butterfly’s wing. You whimpered and she surged forward, her hips alining with yours, pressing you into the rough bark as she kissed you again. You’d never felt such fire, lit up from the inside out, burning up with every press of her lips. Her tongue licked along your lip in a mirror of what she’d done before. You opened to her, the way it felt so foreign and yet all consuming. It felt so good. It make you want more.

If this was what your father was protecting you from you could understand why. You’d give up everything for more. It was heady and addictive and all you could do was urge her on. She moaned into your mouth, kissing you deeper, pressing more insistently against you, possessing you. If this was the path to hell you thought eternal damnation might be worth it.

Only then she was pulling away, wrenching her mouth from yours, lips kiss swollen and eyes dark. You were breathless, your fingertips pressing to your own lips, a sense of wonder at the feeling. You wondered what it would be like to feel those lips everywhere, if they would draw such intense feelings in you. You thought they probably would.

“You are the jewel of Westview. Don’t let a petty criminal who won’t know your worth steal you. Hold out for the collector who will know exactly how precious you are,” she whispered.

And then she was gone, leaving you gasping for breath, hand pressed to your heart, leaning against the apple tree your father had so lovingly tended in your childhood. It was incomprehensible that one night in your garden could fundamentally change you. But you couldn’t forget. The door had been opened and now you knew what you were holding out for, the potential that was out there, the way you could feel. Your father had been keeping you sheltered, perhaps because he knew that if you knew the truth, there would be no stopping you looking for what you wanted.

You lingered in the garden, trying to get your heart under control. The cool air seared your skin, your knees weak, lips still tingling. When you finally returned to your room, you lay in bed, returning time and time again to that kiss. You pictured her face. You imagined her head on the pillow beside yours, dark hair spread over the white sheets.

By the morning, having only snatched moments of sleep, dreams filled with beautiful strangers in shadowy corners, you wondered if you could ever go back to the life you were living before. You knew it would be impossible. But your father would never accept this new reality for you. He would want you to go back to how you were before you knew all the things the world held.

There were whispers around the house, too quiet for you to hear but they followed you as you descended to breakfast. Your stomach churned the longer you went without hearing what the latest gossip was, wondering if someone had seen you the night before. If your father caught wind of your night time activity, you would be in such trouble.

“Darling.” Your father was already at the table, “did you sleep well?”

“Yes, Father.”

You sat at the table, a soft thanks passing over your lips when a plate was placed in front of you. You nudged the food with your fork, not sure you could eat. Your stomach was tying itself into knots.

“Did you hear any disturbances last night?” he asked, over the rim of his tea cup.

You froze before forcing your shoulders to relax.

“No, Father,” you said.

“You may have heard the servants talking this morning. We have been robbed and if the rumours are to be believed, Agatha Harkness’s ship has been sighted at the harbour,” he said.

You looked down to your plate, still pushing your food around. Agatha Harkness, pirate captain of legend, was a figure that had been scaring you since you were a little girl. It had been a great way for your mother to keep you in line. The threat of being carried away by Agatha Harkness if you misbehaved had haunted you.

Now, rather than fear, an overwhelming sense of curiosity was overtaking you. It would be too much of a coincidence for Agatha Harkness to be in town and a strange woman to be in your garden on the night your father was robbed. The two must be connected.

You slipped away after breakfast, sneaking out the way you’d learned to do as a child when the house became stifling. The streets were emptier than usual, the whispers of Agatha’s name following you as you made your way towards the harbour. You scurried past anyone who might try to stop you, a respectable lady out without any kind of chaperone or guards with a criminal on the loose.

The figure standing at the end of the pier was familiar. Long dark hair, unbound and floating on the breeze, one hand raised to her eyes as she gazed towards the horizon. The dress was gone, leather breeches and a loose shirt branding her as anything but respectable in your town of Westview. She was nothing like the wanted posters depicted, beautiful where they printed a monster. Dangling from the fingers of her other hand was a chalice you were intimately familiar with, having watched your father drink from it on every special occasion.

On slow footsteps you approached. Her head didn’t turn, her muscles didn’t clench, but you were sure she knew you were there. Stopping behind her, at her shoulder, you stared out at the horizon too. A ship swayed on the waves, the mast tall, a flag snapping in the wind.

“Agnes,” you said, “or would you prefer Agatha?”

“Worked it out, did you, love?” she asked.

“You robbed me,” you said.

“I robbed your father,” she corrected.

Finally turning to face you, you chose to drink your fill of her. She was beautiful, as beautiful as she’d been in the moonlight the night before. Wild and uncontrollable, not made to be contained, even in your mind. You wanted her. You were never going to stop wanting her.

“Why?” you asked.

“To prove I could.” She shrugged, “he was bragging that his house was impenetrable and that his greatest treasure could never be taken.”

“Oh,” you said.

“Although I’m beginning to think his greatest treasure wasn’t one of the objects in his home,” she said.

Your cheeks heated as her finger dragged along the skin of your collarbone and your breath was shaky as you drew it into your lungs. The smile she was giving you was predatory, like a cat with its sights set on a particularly nice bird. It was the exact kind of look that had you realising how much you wanted to feel this way for the rest of your life. You took a step closer to her.

“Will you steal me too?” you asked, breathless and desperate and not caring if you sounded desperate.

“What’s that, love?” she asked, head cocking to the side as her eyes dragged over you.

“Steal me from him too. Take me away. Make me yours,” you said.

Your hands cupped her cheeks, pulling her closer. Her hands settled on your waist, cinched in with the corset you’d been forced into that morning.

“I’m not sure about that, love. You’re not made for the pirate life,” she said.

“I’m not made for this life. I can’t stay here. Not anymore. Please. You said you would empty your coffers to have me. You don’t have to. Just take me,” you said.

“It won’t be the sort of luxury you’re used to,” she said.

“You mean the cage I live in,” you said.

“It’s not a pretty existence,” she said.

“I’ll be pretty enough to make up for it,” you replied.

“Indeed you will,” she said, eyes dipping down to your lips, “do you need to return home and pack a bag?”

“You’re the only thing I need now,” you said.

Her expression brightened and she swooped down, lips pressing to yours in a searing kiss. In the sun shining off the sea, salt on the air, you thought you might have found the suitor of your dreams without the help of your father. Certainly without his approval.

But when a pirate captain stole you away, there was nothing to be done expect enjoy the adventure.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #agatha harkness imagine #agatha all along #aaa week

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wilteddreamsofbaldursgate · 1 year ago

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Girl dad Astarion who is mourning the times when his biggest problem was coming up with more or less child-friendly excuses to not read yet another bedtime story. Or to fix the dress of a shabby old doll that gave him the creeps. Or to kiss some scratches better, even though the minuscule wounds usually troubled him more than they did the damn child.

Nobody ever told him that children grow up this fucking fast, okay?

But now he has to watch his darling little girl grow into a beautiful young woman, and he is—quite frankly—terrified for her.

Because wherever he looks, he can see that strangers are watching her, too.

It doesn’t even bother him that they notice his daughter’s beauty, no, you would have to be blind not to see it. She’s stunning—obviously. She's his child after all…and Tav’s, of course, but that’s not the point.

It’s the way they're looking at the girl that disgusts Astarion to his very core. Leering eyes following her every move. Ulterior motives buried under layers of false niceties. Seemingly innocent little touches stolen as if those filthy hands were entitled to her body in any way.

And for all their obnoxious gawking, they don’t even see her. They seldom care for his daughter’s talents, her sense of humour, or her intelligence. Her heart.

Those heads are only turning for a pretty face, and for all the small privileges that might afford her, they always come with a price—a price Astarion has paid once upon a time; a price he doesn’t ever want his daughter to even consider accepting.

But the world is not kind. It’s already leaving scratches on his child that neither he nor Tav can kiss better any longer.

And Astarion hates it because the last time he felt this helpless was when his own pretty face was all that kept him, well, as alive as he could be. A thing to be used for other people's gain. Selling himself out for crumbs.

And then, one day, he notices a new bracelet on his daughter’s wrist.

She happily hands it over to him so he can take a look. Then she tells him some stranger gifted it to her. Just like that!

All they wanted for it was a little smile—isn’t that so great, father?

It’s not. Far from it. Astarion is fuming inside.

How dare some random nitwit think that ugly trinket worthy of his daughter’s wonderful smile? The audacity. The nerve. Unbelievable!

“Darling, it’s not a gift if they’re expecting something in return,” a forced smile tugs at his lips, trying to soften his scolding tone.

It doesn’t work.

“But it’s so pretty, I had to have it!”

The girl sulks, her little nose scrunched up as if he just sent her to bed without her fairy tales. Astarion supposes, in a way, he has.

“And what do we do when we see something we want, dear?”

She rolls her eyes at him in a way that always has Tav cackling up. Maybe it's because, in moments like this, she looks a little too much like her father.

“We just pocket it.”

“Exactly, my darling child, we just pocket it,” Astarion nods approvingly. “And if they ask for a smile next time?”

“We stab them,” she sighs.

“Absolutely, we do. Now, off with you, lest your daggers get all rusty, you lazy duck.”

Ending the discussion with a gentle smile, Astarion watches the girl go before he produces the offending bracelet from his sleeve.

It’s always out of sight, out of mind with pretty things, isn't it?

He takes another look at the bracelet, scrunching up his nose as if it gave off a particularly vile smell. In a way, it does.

In fact, it’s giving Astarion the creeps. And it's not even made from real gold, by the way.

Astarion scoffs at the cheap trinket. This child still has so much to learn.

#astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #dadstarion #astarion x tav #astarion headcanons #baldur's gate astarion #astarion ancunin #to the best worst dad #astarion father of the year every year #being perceived is pain #girlhood in a nutshell

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beth-yeet365 · 4 months ago

Text

"I just wanna be close to you" - JJ Maybank

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!Fem!Reader

Summary: To celebrate the group graduating high school, the Routledge siblings go the bonfire party on the beach and Y/N Routledge decides to confront her long time crush and best friend, JJ Maybank.

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption (underage) and some deep pining (which may lead to some mild angst and a fight but it ends well).

Author's notes and disclaimers: Yay, my first JJ Maybank fic! In this one, the reader is a year younger than the rest of the group. This is a lyric based fic based on Close to you by Gracie Abrams because I feel like it's so JJ coded. Hope you like it.

requests are open / my masterlists / obx masterlist

Stay beautiful xx

I don't got a single problem with provocative See the bodies how they burn it's just the way it is

You and the rest of the pogues are at a bonfire party on the back to celebrate the high school graduation and everybody was having a great time. Everybody but you. The rest of your friend group are off finding love for the night with either their respective significant others or a stranger while you are stuck on the sidelines feeling lonely, sad, and heartbroken you couldn't be with the boy you like.

John B is off mackin' on Sarah. They are getting very serious all of a sudden and you are so happy for them. You had all been through so much together as a group and their relationship had definitely suffered. Now that things had calmed down they seemed to be going steady and stable. You can almost hear the wedding bells.

Pope and Cleo are cuddling by the bonfire, Kiara chatting it up with some random touron, and JJ was back to his old ways. Everybody seems to be happy with how things are. Everyone except you.

You are standing outside, looking in at the party. Especially at that blonde haired boy who had stolen your heart but now it feels like he is stomping on it with the way he is smiling and smirking at all the girls who are fawning around him. They are probably all hoping they can be the lucky one to go home with him tonight. He certainly looks like he is considering the pretty brunette who is practically undressing him with her eyes.

The worst part about the whole ordeal is that they are gonna be in JJ's room at the Chateau which means you'll be able to hear them.

After all, the walls are very thin.

It's not like anything will happen between you guys. He is not only your brother's best friend but yours too. You and John B have always been very close since there is only a year between you, you being the younger one. Because of this, it meant his friends became your friends and his best friend was your best friend. The best friend being JJ Maybank.

No, you were forever stuck on the sidelines admiring him from afar.

Smoky, dark, crowded room, I need nothing Under pink light in June I was so cool but then, all of a sudden You saw me look at you

The sight of JJ with all those girls makes you lose all desire to party. You don't want to go and damper the moods of everyone else so you stuck to yourself. You decide to get yourself a beer though you don't need it. Your feelings so confusing you feel disoriented enough.

You go back to your old look-out. You notice the sunset turning the sky a lovely pink colour. Watching the party before you, the silhouettes of people dancing and talking in the smoke from the bonfire.

You hear a familiar laugh making you turn your gaze back onto the blonde haired boy. He is laughing at something the brunette girl said. Ignoring the pang in your heart, you can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach whenever he smiles. Even if it is directed at another girl. His laugh is always so melodious and makes you weak in the knees. The pink light from the setting sun making him even more beautiful as if that is even possible.

JJ thought he could feel someone's gaze on him. He knew straight away who it was. He turns around to lock eyes with you.

Oh, no. You're caught. You must've been staring for a while. You can feel your heart start to race and your entire body heating up. The girl is gone and he is all alone. He flashes you one of his genuine smiles. It's one of the rare times he actually smiles and you can't help but smile back, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes the same way his does. He gives you a quizzicial look as if to ask what's wrong?. You continue to stare at each other from across the beach until the pretty brunette appears again making any semblance of a smile disappear and you avert your gaze. You move away from your spot so you're not in direct sight of him. You find an old, fallen tree trunk and sit down.

You huff in disappointment and down the rest of the beer, adding to the bitter taste in your mouth.

I burn for you And you don't even know my name If you asked me to I'd give up everything

Sarah can tell something is up with you whenever she looks over at where you're sitting. You always love a good party on the beach but you've had this constant frown on your face the whole time. Going to the party was your idea after all.

John B and Sarah have joined Pope and Cleo by the bonfire and are talking and laughing something or other but Sarah can't help but look at you. You look so sad and she already knows why. Everyone can see it but them. The rest of the group talk about when neither of you are around.

"Hey, I gonna get something to drink. Anybody want anything?" she asked the group.

"Uh, sure, a beer could be nice, babe." John B said and kissed her cheek.

"Pope, Cleo, you guys want anything?"

"No, thanks Sarah." Pope politely declined.

"I'll help ya, Sarah, I want something too." Cleo said and they both stand up and leave to go to the drinks table. They pour their drinks and on the way back to the guys Sarah sees you again and stops Cleo.

"Actually I'll join you guys in a bit. I'm gonna go talk to Y/N she looks so sad." Sarah says. "Can you take John B's drink back to him?"

"Yeah, sure, is it the JJ thing again?" Cleo asks her. Sarah hands her John B's drink and she accepts it with her empty hand.

"I think so. I think she just needs someone to talk and I can't bear to look at her sad face."

Cleo nods in agreement and promises to come over later. They split and Sarah approaches you. You hear steps coming closer and turn and find Sarah. You give her a small smile before turning back around watching the scene before you.

"Is it JJ again?" She asks you gently, not beating around the bush.

"No! You tell her a little too quickly. She gives you a knowing look. "Yes..." you saying, having turned sheepish under her look.

"You do know he likes you too?"

"No, I don't know! I just- I just like him but it's clear nothing will ever happen when things are the way they are."

"Oof, Mini Routledge, that sounds like some angsty boy trouble you got yourself there." Cleo says as she appears as if from out of nowhere, giving you the biggest fright. "It's obvious to everyone that you're both pining for each other so do something about it so we can all be happy."

"Everyone but that brunette gettin' ready to pounce any second now." You sulk. The groups of bodies have moved so JJ and girl is back in in your direct line of sight. "Sorry, girls, I don't wanna damper the mood. You're supposed to be celebrating! You've graduated... and left me behind in that god forsaken school."

"Hey, chin up, JJ will realise what's in front of him, okay?" Sarah assures you, rubbing your back. "You just need to knock some sense into him if he won't do it himself."

"Sure, right, I'll go do that if he can even remember my name with how much he's been drinking."

"No, Y/N, he hasn't even touched a drop of alcohol," Sarah tells you off. "Stop your moping and do something about things if you want to change." She has a veyr maternal tone and you almost shrink at the sound of it. Sarah has become like a big sister since she and John B got together. Well, it took some getting used at first since she was the kook princess of the island but you became fast friends and she is practically your sister-in-law now.

"Hey!" Your big brother shouts, grabbing your attention as he approaches your little group with Pope right behind him. "What's up with the frowns? We're supposed to have fun!"

He slings an arm around your shoulder, making him spill his beer on your shoes. Nice one, JB.

"Nothing, just not feeling in the mood to party." You tell him.

"But it was your idea! C'mon, Y/N/N, lighten up for your big brother, please?" He begs you, his breath smelling like beer.

"No, JB, just- just leave me alone okay?" You ask him and shrug off his arm and remove yourself from the group.

They watch as you walk away from the party altogether and sit down in the sand. You pull your knees up to your chest and take out your phone from the backpocket of your shorts.

And now your mouth is moving, cinematic timing You pull me in and touch my neck and now I'm dying

*FLASHBACK: 1.5 YEARS AGO*

"They were askin' for it, John B!" JJ shouts at your brother.

"They're always asking for it JJ! But if you don't learn how to control yourself there won't be any jobs left because you got fired from every single on of them. Did you ever think about that?"

Typical JB, always trying to knock some sense into JJ. It's common knowledge that JJ's a hothead and tends to turn to violence which more often than not lands him in trouble. Most often than not with the law.

You can't hear the rest of the conversation. You have just woken up from a nap in the hammock after a hard day at work. Your boss is always on your ass about something even though you work even harder than your co-workers to prove that you deserve the job despite being from The Cut.

The hot and humid sun is hitting your face just right, making you wanna close your eyes again. You were about to fall asleep again when the screen door bursts open, slamming against the wall and makes you almost fall out of the hammock. JJ stops in his tracks when he sees you.

"Oh, hi, Y/N. Sorry if I woke ya." He scratches his neck and stands in front of you awkwardly.

"It's okay. Can't sleep the whole day away anyway. Get fired form another job?"

"Yeah, it's nothing. The boss was a jerk anyway." He brushes it off.

"That black eye and split lip don't look like nothing." You tell him and sit up and pat the space next to you. "Sit down, will ya?"

He does what you ask but avoids your eyes, suddenly very bashful.

"I know a little something about jerks for bosses." You tell him.

"Oh, yeah? Your boss on your ass again? Think you're too young to have trouble with your boss." He tries to lighten the mood.

"I think we're all too young to have these problems." You sigh. There's a beat of silence. He doesn't know how to respond to that but he knows it's true.

"John B's only looking out for you, you know?" You speak again. "You're his best friend, J. Ever since Dad went missing he's just been so angry at everything and everyone."

JJ gets a soft look in his eyes. It's not a topic that comes up often. With Big John gone lots of things have changed and tension has risen within the group.

"How're you doing with all of that?" He asks you.

"Meh," you shrug. "I try to be there for JB but he's just in this pissy mood all the time and it doesn't help that we have the DCS on our asses."

"And who's there to look after you, huh? I don't like the idea of you carrying the weight of it all by yourself." You look him in the eyes. He's gotten very serious all of a sudden. You almost never see JJ this serious. Not even when he talks about his dad. "You can always talk to me, Y/N." He says sincerely and grabs your hand with his. "I promise to try to cheer you up. You can even hit me if you're real angry, I can take it. Jus' so you don't end up hitting your boss or John B when they piss you off. I give you full permission."

That makes you laugh and he laughs with you, happy to make you smile again.

"Now there's that smile, Mini Routledge." He smirks at you, already knowing the reaction he'll get out of you.

"Ugh, you know I hate that name, JJ!" You repimand him and slap his shoulder.

"Sorry, I just couldn't resist but good God, woman! Your slaps are lethal." He says and rubs his shoulder with a giggle and you can't help but giggle with him,

"I didn't slap you that hard." You say and shake your head at him. "You're just a drama queen."

"Oh, yeah? Tell that to the now permanent hand print I'm gonna have on my shoulder for all of eternity."

You look into each other's eyes, the only sound around you the crickets and cicadas. When the eye contact gets a little too intense you look away and fan your face saying something about the heat and the sun.

"Here, let me help you." He says. He gathers your hair in his hands and moves it away from your neck and over to your shoulder. One of his hands lingers by your neck though making your do these weird palpitations and your stomach feel like a swarm of butterflies have been let loose. You could've died happily in that moment. You look up into his eyes again and you both start to lean in until...

"JJ! Could you come here for a sec?!" Your lovely big brother shouts from inside the house, interrupting the moment.

JJ moves away and sighs. He gets up without so much as looking back at you while you try to calm your racing heart and shaky hands.

That was the time you realised you had a crush on JJ.

Little did you know you were gonna end up falling in love with him...

You should be mine for life, I'll be signing Every dotted line Chemical override, ultraviolet You could be mine tonight

*BACK TO REAL TIME*

John B excuses himself from the group you left to go and talk to you. He dumps the rest of his cup on the way, figuring he doesn't need anymore alcohol in his system for the conversation you're about to have. He isn't blind. He can clearly see the affection and attraction you hold for each other. The whole best friend and little sister mackin' on each other might be a weird thought but it's one he can get over. He never gave the talk to JJ or Pope about staying away from you. You are your own person and can make decisions for yourself which he deeply respects. He only wants you to be happy and find someone who makes you just as happy as Sarah makes him. Even if it is JJ.

He plops down beside you. You turn off your phone in acknowledgement and rest your head on your knees and stare out at the ocean.

"So," he starts, filling the silence between you. You're sitting far enough away from the party that the music was significantly lower and you guys talk at a normal volume. "You ready to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" You mumble. You can feel him looking at you but you continue to stare at the waved crashing up on the shore and rolling back out.

"What happened back there, your sulky mood, or your love for JJ Maybank? Take your pick." He says, leaving you stunned. "Though, they're all jus' a chain reaction of you loving him and doing nothing about it."

"You know?!"

"Of course, I know, Y/N!" He answers, exasperated at your ignorance. "I wasn't born yesterday. Don't think you can it from me. I'm your big brother. Everybody knows it's so damn obvious."

"Everybody knows? Even JJ?" You ask him quietly, wanting the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

"On some level maybe," he shrugs. "But he certainly loves you too, squirt."

"He does?" You get this hopeful look in your eye at his statement.

"Definitely!" He almost shouts. "He may not have said it to me because, you know, I am your big brother and he's my best friend, but the way he looks at you just gives it away."

You're silent for a minute, mulling it all over, but then the same thoughts roll back into your mind. You get frustrated again with all of your reservations about starting a relationship with him and your insecurities.

"But it'll never work, John B."

"Why not, Y/N?" He tries but he is getting tired of your persistence on the matter.

"Bec- because..." You stutter but are interrupted by your brother.

"Because what?!" He asks in frustration. "Y/N, you'll never know until you try." He tells you, his voice softer this time around. You lean your head against his shoulder and he leans his on top of yours.

"It's just..." You start and sigh before you continue. "He's your best friend. He's my best friend. I just don't want to mess anything with the group or our friendship up. And your friendship too. Ugh, it's just too complicated." You finish and he lifts his head at this.

"Let me tell you one thing and I want you to look at me." He tells you and you do as he says. "Don't worry about the rest of us. Do what you wanna do and be with who you wanna be. I don't want to stand in the way of you neither does the rest of the group. You make your own decision we will just have to roll with it and if it doesn't work, well, so what? At least you tried and got some good memories out of it." He smiles and wipes some hair away that got in your eyes. "That doesn't mean it won't be weird to see my best friend who's older than my baby sister kissing and being all cute and couple-y together but I will just have to deal."

You smile at his words. He raised you most of the time. With your mum gone and your dad being sort of absent, it was left to John B to do most of the raising. Luckily, he didn't turn out so bad. You lean your head back on his shoulder and he throws an arm around yours as you fall into another beat of silence.

"I'll marry him one day, JB" you tell him honestly, his head flipping back up you swear it looked like he got whiplash.

"Geez, squirt, you're a bit young to think about that, aren't you?"

"Well you unofficially married Sarah while stuck on a boat after we thought you were dead."

"Touché, Y/n, touché." He admires your retort.

He stands up and offers his hands to help you up as well. You dust off the sand on your shorts and give him the biggest hug which he returns. You release each other after a while. He's got a big dopey smile on his face either from the alcohol in his system or the feeling of cheering up his little sister and helping two of his favourite people get together. Or maybe a mixture of both.

"You're the best big brother in the world, you know that?" You tell him.

"I'm your only brother." He deadpans.

"Well, I have no one to compare you to so you'll always be the best in my book." You reply and give him another hug and he kisses your temple.

"Go get him." He says as he releases you and sends you off.

Adrenaline overrides all rational thoughts that were holding you back and walk over to him. It's more like a march because you're so determined. After all, you've had a crush on him for a year and a half now, and maybe more. You tap his shoulder three times and he turns around but he is not so surprised that it's you, your lovely and alluring perfume that makes him weak in the knees alerting him of your presence.

"Hey J, can we talk?" you ask him. Voice slightly shaking from the adrenaline in your system. You clear your throat and avoid his gaze.

"Sure thing, Mini Routledge, what do you wanna talk about?" he says with the a small smile and that amused look in his eyes.

"You ready to go home, Maybank?" The pretty brunette emerges again with a seductive look in her eyes.

You feel your stomach drop, all of the confidence that had been building up on the way over here vanished into thin air.

"Forget it, JJ, seems like you have enough on your plate already." You say to him, angry at him but even more angry at yourself because you thought you could finally tell him how you felt and even angrier that you thought you could actually be together. You turn and march away from the pair.

"Y/Nn wait!" JJ shouts after you but you ignore him.

He decides to leave the girl and follow you...

I burn for you And you don't even know my name If you asked me to I'd give you everything

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," you reprimand yourself. "Of course, nothing could ever happen."

You weave through the dancing bodies and continue walking even though you've managed to escape the group of people. You walk as fast as you can in the sand which isn't that fast. You can hear JJ's frantic shouts but you just wanna get away.

"Y/N, stop!" He shouts. "Please just slow down. Tell what's wrong!" He pleads with you.

You shake your head, all your insecurities filling your mind making you feel awful all over again.

Somehow, JJ manages to catch with you. He grabs your wrist in an attempt to get you to slow down and talk to him. You shake his hand off and turn around to face him.

"Just leave me alone, okay?!" You all but shout at him.

"No, not until you tell me what's wrong!" He says which makes you turn back around again.

"Well, that's not happening anytime soon so you can go back to your new girl of the night and do what you always do because then you'll finally leave me alone." You tell him with a bitter tone in your voice.

"Hey, that's none of your business!" He replies, getting mad now.

"It is when we live in the same place with very thin walls so we can all hear just how good you'll be making that girl feel." You spit your venom at him, making him stop in his tracks while you continue your walk away from him. You're not sure why you're so angry at him. You were the one who decided to go and talk to him which left you with this empty pit in your stomach.

"C'mon, that's not fair, Y/N," He tells you, close to giving up now. "What's this all about?"

"Nothing!"

"Well, clearly there's a reason 'cause you'd never say that sorta stuff normally. We're best friends." He waves his arms around as he says this. This makes you stop up. You turn around and walk back towards him until you're right in front of him.

"I like you, okay?!" You shout in his face, stunning him. "I. Like. You. But it seems like I just missed my chance so excuse me if I'm not really in a chatty mood and just wanna be left alone."

He doesn't say anything. In all honesty, he doesn't know what to say. You shake your head at him and walk away again. You don't get very far again because he shouts after you.

"So what you like me? I like you too!" He shouts. You walk back towards him so you're face to face and stare into his beautiful crystal blue eyes.

"No, JJ, I burn for you, okay?! I'd drop everything for you, I'd give you everything and more if I could but I'd never meet the standards of those girls." You tell him honestly, getting to the root of all your insecurities. "I'll forever be Mini Routledge and that's fine, it's cool you don't need to worry about me I'll just go home and leave you alone with her."

You try to walk away again but he grabs your wrist and this time you can't shake him loose. He swings you back around so you're chest to chest, yours still heaving from your rant.

"You're so much more than just Mini Routledge to me, Y/N. You always seem to brighten my day even when it seems to be the darkest and all you have to do is smile at me. You could break my heart a million times or start the biggest forest fire there ever was and I'd defend you till the end of time. You're everything to me, okay? I don't want to lose you so don't-..." He sighs. He releases your wrist and pushes your hair away from your face. You look into his eyes, the amused look gone and replaced by a determined one.

"Just don't push me away." He begs.

And then, he kissed you.

To be close to you Pull the trigger on the gun I gave you when me met I wanna be close to you Break my heart and start a fire you got me overnight Just let me be close to you

Like pulling the trigger on a gun, the tension was between you and JJ was released and replaced with something else. Passion. You've been waiting for this moment longer than you realise because like pulling the trigger on a gun, the tension was between you and JJ was released and replaced with something else. Passion. JJ was kissing you and you loved every second of it. You were so shocked that you didn't know what to do with your hands. His hands moved from your hair down to your waist and yours found their place on his chest. You both got lost in the feel of it. The feel of JJ's lips on yours, the feel of JJ giving your bottom lip a salacious bite to open your mouth and welcome his tongue. The feel of JJ liking you back.

You pulled away when you both ran out of air. He wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in for a hug while your arms wrap around his neck, one of your hands getting lost in his blonde locks. His head dips down to where your shoulder meets your neck and starts kissing your skin, lightly sucking and licking which is definitely not helping to slow your heart and breathing.

"I want to be close to you..." You almost whisper, still out of breath. "I just want you, J."

"Well, I'm right here." He pauses his kisses to reply. "You have me now and I'm all yours." He continues his lovely attack on your neck, finding a spot that makes you weak and a sound you've never heard come out of your mouth before. That's when he stops, making you want to whine in protest but he kisses your lips again. This time slower, and it isn't filled with the same tension as before. It isn't the same makeout session as before but sweeter and filled with affection. You pull away from him this time.

"What do ya say... Wanna get outta here?" You ask him.

"Geez, Mini Routledge, way to make this freaky." He jokes and you slap his chest, unable to wipe that goofy smile off your face. He smiles with you. He loves being the reason of your smile.

"By the way, if you wanna have sex with me, you gotta stop calling me Mini Routledge." You warn him albeit with the same smile.

"Can't make no promises since I just love to see that annoyed look on your face. It's so cute." He teases, the same amused glint in his eyes he always has. "But yes, I'd love to get out of here."

"Great, I'll tell John B and meet you back here." You tell him and almost run back to the group you abandoned earlier. You approach John B specifically, knowing if you didn't say you were leaving without letting him know he would launch a whole search party.

"Hey, we're gonna split." You tell and kiss his cheek in goodbye. "I'll see you at home."

"So I take it everything worked out between you two?" He asks.

"How'd you know?!" You gasp.

"Well you did say we're," he starts but a knowing, amused grin works onto his face. "But also the red spot on your neck right about there," he prods a finger at the sensitive spot. "Which I think will most likely turn into a nice blue and purple hickey during the night." He laughs at your mortified expression as you grip your neck where he pointed before. "Tell JJ I'll talk to him tomorrow. Love ya, sis."

"Love you too, bro." Tell him and walk away with a smile on your face until John B shouts.

"I better find you in separate rooms when I get home!" To which you respond with flipping him off and Sarah is no doubt slapping his chest and scolding him.

When you reach JJ, he throws an arm around your shoulder and you walk away from the party happening behind you.

"John B wants to talk to you tomorrow." You tell him.

"Oh no, what did you say to him?" He whines, making you giggle.

"Nothing I swear!" You reply, but can't help the smile creeping onto your face.

"Oh, you swear, huh?" He grins, and pokes at your waist. Your most ticklish place. "That smile says different."

"No, I swear, JJ!" You can't help but giggle from his tickles, trying to get out of the hold his arm has around your shoulder.

"Guess I'm gonna have to tickle it outta ya then." He says as he continues his attack on your waist.

"Well, you'll have to catch me first!" You laugh and finally wiggle free from his hold and run away from him.

"Oh, you're on, Mini Routledge!" He shouts and speeds after you.

You race each other back to the Chateau. There, you embrace again in a heated kiss and tumble inside. You disobeyed John B's half-serious order and went straight for your bed. He added some extra hickies to the one he left on the beach though some of them would be naturally covered up by your clothes. You even left some on him.

The night was filled with love and ecstasy and when you woke up in the morning to sun beaming in through the curtains and a shirtless JJ in your bed with an arm around your waist you couldn't help the silly grin that etched its way onto your face.

You let out a quiet giggle, so happy you couldn't help it. You turn around in JJ's arms and realise he's only half sleeping.

"What's so funny?" He asks in a deep, groggy morning voice that sends chills down your spine despite the warmth of the sun.

"Nothing, J." You sigh in contentment. "Everything's perfect." You tell and kiss his forehead.

"Good," he says and kisses your lips. "Now go back to sleep."

#jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank one shot

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bloodykora · 6 months ago

Text

Orange Tainted Fingers

MDNI! THIS IS 18 PLUSSS

This was very much influenced by @ilovemycatkafir comment on my Scrapped Knees. So big thanks to her!

I would recommend reading Just a Little Gift which sets up this premise which you can read here. If you decide not to then its basically stalker mc with stalker Sol. Hope yall enjoy!!!

TW: end of day 2 spoilers, aka B+E, attempted drugging, stalking/yandere behaviours TKATB List

There was always a craving of fresh orange juice, one of the best parts of being raised on a farm. A nice cold cup of OJ in the morning instead of the over sugared and weirdly pulped store stuff.

It was a habit that followed you to school, first getting the jugs of OJ before you went back to buying oranges to juice on the weekends. Weekly routine which somewhat soothed you on the days you were most stressed. And on the worst days it was right under desperately wanting to crawl into bed.

It had been a hectic day, studies on top of going out with Hyugo and Sol after classes. Hyugo not wanting to run errands by himself and Sol agreeing after you had decided to go. All you could fantasize now was stripping off your socks and having a seat.

Your door lock clicks as you take your keys out of it, opening and stepping in your apartment. Closing and locking it behind you, dropping your bag, chucking off your shoes and flopping on the sofa. Taking a deep breath in as you adjust to the now quietness of the house.

You slide into your usual routine, already had eaten so you didn't need to do dishes however there was laundry to pick up off the floor of your room. Tidying and sweeping the kitchen and bathroom, general cleaning. You glance at the clock on the stove, its vibrant green light reading to be past 9. Deciding its time to head to bed.

You open the fridge and pull out a spoon, setting the jug on the counter while you grab a small glass. Ready to stir and have a cup before going to bed. You take the wrap off the top before pausing, there was no separation. There was nothing to stir, which was off considering it had been probably 12 hours since you last touched it.

You pause and think, what or who did it and why? No sign of forced entry, no broken front lock or kicked in door and nothing stolen. So how? You pour it into the cup, your back out to the rest of the apartment and lifting the cup to your face. Then reaching down and pouring it in the sink quietly, rinsing out the cup and the juice.

Making sure if there was someone watching, they thought you had taken a sip of it at least. You calm your breath, not wanting to panic. You continue your routine, turning off the lights and going to burst your teeth. Heart pounding into your ears, adrenaline now overtaking any fear you may have had.

Snuggling into bed, having your phone under the pillow in case anything happened and your hand clutched around the pink frog plush for comfort.

You close your eyes and listen, tossing and turning for what felt like an eternity. Laying still as you could be, crickets and the wind would be almost lullabyic if it wasn't for the situation. Finally, a click from the window makes your face scrunch. Thankful but nervous your back was to it.

Your eyes open slightly as a pair of shoes hit the floor, your eyes adjusted to the darkness so you could see perfectly. You still your breathing again, shutting your eyes and tensing every muscle to not shake. Your arms clutch each other, the frog still in between them.

The stranger's feet carry themselves around the bed, a hand going to reach out to graze your legs. A hummed breath coming out as they admire your sleeping beauty.

Sol recognizes the small trembling in your body, a small frown appearing on his face as he squats down to look at your face. Your face slightly twitching as his hand touches your temple.

"Oh are you having a nightmare?" He pauses, his voice finally pierces your ears. "I'll chase all your monsters away pumpkin." Realization creeps up your ears and face, along with his hand. The man you had been obsessed with was now in your room, staring while you 'slept' and caressing you.

Your heart quickens but not out of fear anymore, in adoration. Planning in your head to now accept all the attention Sol wanted to give you but was just too nervous to while you were awake.

"Hmm, that seemed to have work. You've calmed right down just from me touching you. That's so cute." His voice was so delicate, not wanting to stir you from your slumber at all. You bit your tongue, yearning to just clamp your hand around his.

He takes your right arm, closing his eyes and putting your palm to his face. Relaxing in your touch, rubbing your hand with his thumb. You decided to peek open your eyes, taking the risk in benefit of seeing his peaceful face in your hand.

His hair felt so soft, it being out of his normal half up half down style. A black face mask pull down over his chin, very about break and enter kind of outfit. You closed your eyes again, a smile resting on your face.

Sol makes a comment about how soft your skin is, and how he should paint your nails to match his. You feel like you're being baked in the most pleasant ray of sun, his attention fuelling you for the whole next day ahead. You can his muttering, his usual small comments he thought you couldn't hear.

"I could just wrap in your scent til the end of time, staying in your arms so no one else ma-" He stops in the middle of his sentence, a thing he had never done since you'd known him. His hands withdraw from you, your concerns now growing.

"Frog, the frog. No, no it can't be." You barely make out his words, immediately realizing he's talking about the stuffie in your grasp. It now being more easily to see after he had taken your arm. The same frog that had matched his.

The one you had left on his bed.

Your bedroom stays quiet again, you could almost hear his mind running. Anxiety and dread filling the space between belly and chest again as you wondered if he'd run.

'He can't run, no. Don't want to scare him, but he can't run.' Your mind now running along with his, planning what would happen if he did book it. It didn't take much time for the both of you to make up your mind.

Sol's feet leaning back on the wood of the floor, a creaking escaping into the room. Arguably the loudest thing you've heard all night, all your life. Your right arm moves on instinct, reaching out and gripping the sweater he had on.

His crimson eyes shoot to yours, a look now lingering on your face that he had never seen before. Yet seemed so familiar.

Your eyes wide open in a dead stare, very clearly not sleeping and staring into his soul.

#the kid at the back #the kid at the back vn #solivan brugmansia x reader #sol x reader #solivan brugmansia

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kurogxrix · 2 years ago

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Ummm….this is my first time doing this but Is there any chance I can please request a ao’nung x dreamwalker shyreader, he’s deeply in love with her despite they’re already together. Like the whole and every clan especially the children adore her. Bonus: The sullys are surprised theirs a dreamwalker at the meytikayna clan, pretty cute that Jake and Neytiri sees themselves in ao’nung and her 💙💙💙

No Cap

Ao’nung x Metkayina!Avatar!reader

The strangers' arrivals in Awa’atlu didn't take much to shake confusion and interest within the Metkayina clan. A crowd of aqua skinned na’vis circled the omaticaya family as they dismounted their Ikrans, Toruk Makto and his family themselves presenting themselves before the people.

Pushing their way through the crowd, Ao’nung and Rotxo arrived on scene. The duo was like salt and pepper, never one without the other. The fierce looks on their faces didn’t go unnoticed by the two Sully boys that greeted them, before it switched to a teasing one. God, it was bad already that everyone was staring at them like they were a bunch of forest freaks, and now the Olo’eyktan’s son was making fun of them too?

Everything went quiet in Lo’ak’s head when he caught a glimpse of a certain Metkayina girl emerging from the water. She was beautiful, unlike any girl that he had ever seen before in the forest. Neteyam observed his brother before turning his head towards Tsireya, noticing another girl following close after. Gracefully as ever, Tsireya and you exited the waters that you loved so much to check an eye out on the large crowd of na’vis. Though you couldn’t yet feel the obnoxious stares of the strangers on you and your best friend, Ao’nung surely had.

His nose bridge creased as the Sully boy’s eyes strayed on you for too long, but he refrained himself from baring his teeth just yet. Neteyam quickly looked away from you, not wanting to get on the boy’s bad side even more than he and his family already were. You yelped once you came close enough to Ao’nung, feeling him pull you by the arm and onto his side.

Though Rotxo’s and Ao’nung’s name calling season of the two Sully brothers came to end due to Tsireya’s scolding. Their parents soon followed shortly on their respective skimwings. You swatted a hand at Ao’nung when he made fun of the family for flinching when the Olo’eyktan flew his creature above their heads, landing in the waters beside you all. Your boyfriend only playfully bared his teeth at you, chomping down onto nothing as it made a loud resonating sound.

Your attention had been stolen away from Ao’nung by none other than his mother, the Tsahik Ronal. You winced internally as you knew that this poor family was about to pass through hell and back under the judgement of the Tsahik, because you had been there at first. You remember your arrival at Awa’atlu like no other, mostly due to the fact that Ronal had quite literally held you under the sharp blade of her spear.

It was scary, if not terrifying as the many eyes of the reef na’vi turnt towards you in hatred. Though the Metkayina had never faced the ruthless face of human destruction, stories from around the globe spread faster than ever. It took you long for you to stand where you now stood, but you were proud of yourself for getting through it.

You heard Tsireya sigh from besides you as she watched her mother forcefully grasp the hand of the eldest daughter, bringing it up to her face for a better look. Though the crowd of reed na’vi didn’t shake until she moved towards the son.

“These children are not even true na’vi, they have demon blood!” you felt your heart stop as Ronal lifted the youngest son’s hand up for the whole village to see, and their noises of displeasures made you cave into yourself. You looked down at the palms of your hands shamefully, your ears stuck to your skull.

Though it doesn’t even take a minute for Ao’nung to notice your pity-party. He moved his 4 fingered hand to hold onto your 5 fingered one, his thumb rubbing circles over your back hand. You couldn’t stand to look up at him and into those awaiting eyes, because you knew that he’d just read you more than he already had. Ao’nung knew the ways into your heart way too well, and sometimes you cursed him internally for being such a good people-reader.

It was maybe also because you were too shy to meet his flaming gaze, but that’s a story for another time. A mere look from the boy was enough to stir deep feelings inside of your stomach, and it was the last thing that you needed for now as you watched the poor family with pity. You could only pray that Ronal would spare them her sympathy.

You knew that the clan loved you, that they accepted you as one of their own. After all, whether they wanted it or not, your boyfriend was the chief’s son. You knew that somewhat, this feeling of insecurity was stupid, because the Metkayina didn’t treat you as an outcast or as a reject. On the contrary, they trusted you with their children, which was already one big step in acceptance.

The children loved you, begged for you to come play with them everytime that you were spared from training. Yet, as you watched the omaticaya children being shamed for something that you relate to, you couldn’t help the feeling of gnawing pain in your chest. What was so different between you and them? For all you knew, you were closer to those ‘demons’ than they actually were, because at the end of the day, you were still human.

You still needed to feed and bathe your human body as your avatar slept comfortably at night. You still needed an exopack when you were not in your na’vi body, and for all you knew, these children didn’t.

You were cut off from your self-deprecating thoughts at the booming sound of Tonowari’s voice. He told the village to treat the Sullies well, to welcome them into their home land asif it were their own. Your heart visibly relaxed at the sound of it, and you knew that the distressed family would have a roof above their heads tonight and a warm meal to feed their stomachs.

“My son Ao’nung, my daughter Tsireya will show your children what to do.” you felt your boyfriend’s hand being ripped away from yours as he moved before his father, trying to protest his way out of it. Though it was short lived as he was roughly scolded by Tonowari.

“Their dear friends, Rotxo and Y/N will assist them with making you feel at home.” Everyone turnt to look at the both of you, and you coward under their eyes. It didn’t help that their mother looked all intimidating and irritated. You watched anxiously as Neytiri’s eyes widened subtly, and you could obviously see that she was gazing above your eyes.

God how stupid were you to believe that they wouldn’t catch up to you in mere seconds. After all, her husband was an ex dreamwalker, and some of her children had inherited his odd traits. How could she not notice the weird hairs upon your brow bones, or the extra finger that you shared in common with her children. You soon curled into yourself as you realised that it was not only Neytiri that was staring rudely, but quite literally the whole strange family.

Although you could understand where it was coming from, because you were pretty sure that your program had not been informed to all sectors of the main lab. Words must’ve never gotten through Jake Sully’s ears, because they were visibly raised in shock. He must’ve only been aware of omaticaya avatars around, you must have been the first Metkayina dreamwalker to ever be programmed.

“Quit staring, more moving!” your boyfriend came to the rescue as his words shook the omaticaya family out of their staring trance. Ronal smiled proudly from the sidelines as she watched her son stand up to those Sullies, mostly because of her little hissing altercation with Neytiri earlier.

You appreciated the attention being short lived as the family thanked the whole of you, missing no time in following Tsireya to their new home. God you could’ve pounced on your boyfriend on the spot for saving you from their prying eyes, but that wouldn’t make a good image of you infront of his mother now would it.

“Cmon, let’s go help them settle. I’m sure that with arms this thin, they could use your help.” you tried to motivate him, holding softly onto his forearm as you turned him back to look at you. Your voice was low but you watched as his ears raised at your comment, clearly feeding at his ego as you compared him to the omaticaya boys. He smirked as he dragged you by the arm again, making you grin as you watched that smile rise on his face again.

His thick tail swooshed around the place, knocking your lower back as you both laughed it off. You bounced on the stretchy material of the bridge, hopping next to your boyfriend with a few woven bags upon your shoulders.

“You good?” you heard the deep voice of your boyfriend next to you, turning your head around to be met with the beautiful sight of the bonfire kissing his skin. The orange hue enveloped his skin in a beautiful mix of colours, and you felt yourself going shy under his stare.

Ao’nung looked down at your chest to see a child sleeping comfortably on you. More specifically, the youngest son of Ayka, a close friend of yours. He admired the way the boy fit perfectly into your arms, before swivelling his eyes back to you. Though this time you were not looking at him like you previously was, instead you were staring at the bonfire with that frown that he hated so much sprawled upon your face.

“Don’t take what my mother has said to heart, y’know she doesn’t mean it.” His hand found yours alongside the back of the sleeping child, his hand visibly bigger than yours. Though you find it hard to believe when she said it with so much resentment. Her tone was practically thick and full of it, and you didn’t know who to listen to anymore.

“She’s just trying to find ways to not make them stay, she’s just scared yawne,” you smile coyly at the nickname, trying to hide behind your free hand as Ao’nung was still holding the other down. The sound of his deep chuckle made your chest flutter. “She’s scared for her people, for her family, and you’re part of it.”

Ao’nung watched as you slowly crept your way out of the hand wall that you had built yourself, your round aqua eyes staring at him so innocently. “She loves you too, like a daughter of her own.”

“And soon I'll make you her actual daughter-in-law,” he teased and your ears raised comically at his comment. You gasped mockingly at his part-crude comment as he referred to the both of you mating, but you both knew that it was too early for that. Soon the time will come for you both to move up to the next step, but for now you’d enjoy your youth a little more. Plus as much as much as Ao’nung would love to see you as his little wife waking up everyday next to him, he also knew that it was not the time yet.

“No cap?” you asked, using one of the human slangs that you had learnt and shared with him. Though he hated anything related to the human species, he couldn’t help but love you in every shape and form. He knew that once you were out like a light, your avatar sleeping peacefully in his arms at night, you would have to wake up in your human body to take care of yourself.

Sometimes Ao’nung would even suck it up and visit you at your outpost. Though it wasn’t that hard for him to do, because there weren’t many humans at the Metkayina shack, just enough to help you to keep going.

“No cap.” he repeats, though he doesn’t sound interested in what he’s saying at all. You craned your neck to look up at him, his free hand raising to rest comfortably on your cheek as the other one kept laying on the child’s back. Ao’nung crept his face closer to yours as his eyes kept on switching between your eyes and mouth.

For once, you didn’t feel shy at all to make the first step. Inevitably it had shocked Ao’nung as you leaned all the way before he even could, pressing your lips against him in a soaring kiss. The warm hand on your cheek followed along.

Your ears fluttered back as you melted into the kiss, turning your face to the side to catch more of him. Ao’nung was like a drug, you just couldn’t get him off your mind nor could you get enough of him. He was like a constant thought running wild at the back of your head, being constantly sought out. You can't really tell what you would do of yourself if one day he decided to up and go, but you’d enjoy what you have for now.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the child that was resting upon your chest had already risen from his slumber. The high pitched ‘Ew’ made you jump a little from surprise, quickly moving away from each other as the boy wiggled his way out of your arms.

The previous thoughts that you had of Ao’nung possibly deciding to leave you one day completely vanished as he stared you down with that lovesick gaze. His eyes sparkled like no other when he looked at you, and you found yourself falling under a similar spell everytime that you would look at your boyfriend.

i didn’t really know how to make the reader any shyer i’m so sorry anon😭 hope you liked it either ways!

#aonung x reader #ao’nung oneshot #ao’nung x reader #atwow #avatar #avatar 2 #ao’nung #aonung #aonung oneshot #atwow oneshots #avatar oneshot #atwow oneshot

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kirammanswifey · 8 days ago

Text

《The Heart That Couldn't Stay》

Mel Medarda

writer's note: i can only say that i love sad endings. so anyways, this little (pretty long) scenarios comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there for anyone is interested ;)

link:

warnings: smut, fingering, angst, kinda fluff, sad ending, mel's such a love bird, reader can be a little mean but she has her reasons.

The Greek sky burned with the colors of sunset, a palette that seemed plucked straight from an Impressionist painting. The spiritual retreat Mel had chosen was nestled between mountains and the Aegean Sea, a sanctuary designed to unburden the mind. Yet, in hers, only chaos reigned. Her work as an international consultant had been relentlessly demanding, draining her creative energy for strategy and art alike. Inspiration, the elusive muse she sought, had vanished entirely.

That evening, a local collector had organized a dinner at his villa—an event brimming with artists and influential figures in the art world. Mel attended more out of obligation than genuine interest. She wandered through the private collection, examining sculptures with a detached gaze, her wine glass resting lightly in her hand. Everything around her felt hollow, devoid of meaning, until she heard a voice behind her—clear, melodic, and disarmingly self-assured.

"Did you know this sculptor worked blindfolded? He believed his hands understood form better than his eyes."

Startled, Mel turned. There you were. For a moment, she was at a loss for words. She had always considered herself striking, a vision of exotic elegance, but your beauty defied comparison. It was surreal, almost otherworldly. Perhaps it was the way your eyes shimmered as if they'd stolen the light of distant stars or how your smile radiated an effortless confidence that drew others in. Whatever it was, you were magnetic, a living paradox that demanded attention.

You wore a sheer white dress that contrasted beautifully with your skin, revealing more than it concealed, yet you seemed unbothered—on the contrary, you reveled in the freedom it afforded.

"That sounds... contradictory," Mel responded, intrigued, though she fought to keep her gaze from lingering on the tantalizing curve of your barely covered form.

"Isn’t all art a contradiction?" you replied with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

For the first time in days, Mel felt her mind stir from its slumber. "You seem well-versed in contradictions."

"Perhaps because I am one," you said with a playful tilt of your head, extending your hand toward her. "Call me Zephyr."

Mel took your hand, noting the silky softness of your skin. "Zephyr? I assume that’s not your real name." Her elegant brow arched inquisitively as she studied you. It was as though you held all the secrets of the cosmos, and she longed to unravel them.

You let out a soft laugh, a sound as entrancing as a siren’s song. "It isn’t, but I prefer it. It suits me better."

Mel’s curiosity sharpened. She needed to know more, to hear every syllable that fell from your captivating lips. "Why Zephyr?"

"Because it’s beautiful," you said simply. "Like a gentle breeze—it doesn’t disrupt or intrude, only graces you with its presence. And as quickly as it comes, it’s gone." You gestured with your hand, mimicking the delicate path of the wind, even blowing softly as if to give life to your words.

Mel smiled, entertained by your theatrics. She studied you intently, capturing every nuance of your expression. She could tell she wasn’t the first to be enchanted by your enigmatic charm. And yet, she found herself wanting to be the one exception—the one to see beyond your veil of mystery.

"Zephyr, then," Mel murmured, setting her wine glass on a nearby table. "Do you always make it a habit to bewilder strangers in galleries?" There was a playful edge to her tone, a subtle challenge laced with flirtation.

"Only those who seem to need it," you replied, circling her with deliberate grace, your gaze never leaving hers.

"And what makes you think I’m in need?" Mel hated to admit it, but she was spellbound. Each word you spoke felt more fascinating than the last. For someone as difficult to impress as Mel Medarda, this was no small feat.

You met her gaze with an intensity that seemed to pierce her flawless exterior. "Because you’re here, surrounded by art, but not feeling it. It’s as if you’re searching for something… yet you don’t know what it is." Your knack for reading people was uncanny, a skill you wielded like an artist’s brush to paint reactions as vivid as your observations.

Mel was momentarily speechless. Rarely did anyone manage to see through her polished façade. "Perhaps you’re right. But that doesn’t explain why you’re here."

"I’m a model," you said casually. "I work with painters, sculptors… I enjoy being part of their creations. And I like meeting intriguing people." Your voice carried an honesty that made it impossible to doubt you. Art wasn’t just a part of your life—it was the lens through which you viewed the world.

"Does that mean you find me intriguing?" Mel’s amusement was evident, but so was the faint undercurrent of seduction in her voice.

You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting against her ear, deliberate and tantalizing. "I’m giving you the chance to prove it."

The conversation flowed effortlessly as you explored the villa together. Mel couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken with someone like this. The way you spoke about art and life was intoxicating—each idea fresh, bold, and delivered with a passion that reignited something dormant within her.

When the dinner concluded, you invited her for a walk through the gardens. Under the starlit sky, Mel realized the Greek breeze bore a whisper of your essence: gentle yet unforgettable.

"What do you do when you’re not modeling for artists?" Mel asked as they strolled past ancient olive trees.

"I live," you said simply, as though it were the easiest thing in the world. "I don’t make plans or tie myself down. I savor whatever comes my way. And you?"

"I live to work," Mel confessed with a hint of irony.

You stopped and turned to face her, your gaze filled with quiet compassion. "How tragic. I hope that changes one day."

Something shifted inside Mel at that moment, a spark she hadn’t felt in years. It wasn’t just attraction—it was curiosity, inspiration. She wanted to know more about you, the enigma who seemed to defy all her carefully constructed rules.

When you finally said goodbye, you offered her one last, enigmatic smile before vanishing into the night.

Mel remained rooted to the spot, the breeze playing with her hair. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, her mind was alive with possibilities, her thoughts consumed by the living mystery that you were.

The days following your encounter at the villa became a blend of shared moments between Mel and you. It was as if the gentle breeze you had spoken of that night had decided to linger, wrapping both of you in an air of discovery and unspoken wishes. The connection between you was subtle, like an invisible thread that neither of you could ignore, yet neither dared to name.

You found yourself taking her to places even the locals didn’t know existed. First, a hidden beach nestled between cliffs, where the water was so clear that you could see every pebble resting on the seabed. As you walked along the shore, the ocean breeze played with your hair, and Mel watched you as though you were part of the landscape, as if you belonged to that place as much as the sand and waves.

"How did you find this spot?" Mel finally asked, breaking the silence that had reigned for several minutes.

"It’s easier to find what others overlook when you’re not searching for anything," you replied with a smile that she was beginning to recognize as your signature—an enigmatic gesture that spoke volumes while revealing nothing at all.

Mel laughed softly. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

"I do," you said, winking before stepping closer to the water, letting the waves kiss your feet.

Another day, you took her to an art studio tucked away in a narrow city alley. The walls were covered in paintings, some completed, others barely begun. Sculptures and scattered tools filled the space, and the air smelled of paint and freshly carved wood.

"Is this place yours?" Mel asked, her gaze sweeping across the room.

"It belongs to a friend," you explained. "He lets me come here when I need to remember that chaos can also be beautiful."

Mel watched as you moved through the canvases, brushing your fingertips lightly over a few of them, as though you were reading them rather than touching them. You stopped in front of an unfinished painting and gestured toward it with your chin.

"What do you see?" you asked.

Mel squinted, trying to decipher the shapes and colors. "It’s hard to say... It looks like a landscape, but there’s something more abstract about it. As if the artist is searching for something they haven’t found yet."

"Exactly," you said, turning to face her. "Sometimes art is just that—a search with no end."

It was then, as she observed you surrounded by art and mystery, that Mel said it.

"I want you to be my muse."

You turned to her, not so much surprised as flattered. "Your muse?"

Mel nodded, crossing her arms as she tried to maintain a serious expression. "I have a painting I can’t finish. I’ve tried everything, but... I feel like something’s missing. And I think that something is you."

Your enigmatic smile appeared once more, though your eyes held a glimmer of amusement. "Are you sure? Being your muse comes with risks."

"What risks?" Mel asked, raising an eyebrow—a gesture you had noticed she often made when nervous.

You stepped closer to her, the space between you diminishing, and whispered, "That you might fall in love with me. Promise me you won’t fall in love with me." Your expression was tinged with sadness; you didn’t want Mel to make the same mistake others had. You liked her too much for that.

Mel’s laughter filled the studio, but you noticed the faint blush creeping across her cheeks. "I think I can handle it," she finally said, though you weren’t entirely convinced.

The first painting session took place the following day in Mel’s studio, where she had set up a large canvas in the center of the room. The golden hues of the setting sun filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow that made your skin shimmer as though you were made of light.

You sat gracefully on a stool, crossing your legs, while Mel prepared her brushes and paints. You watched her in silence, captivated by the intensity of her focus.

"Ready?" she asked, glancing up at you.

"I was born ready," you replied with a smile that seemed to challenge her.

As Mel began to paint, the tension in the room became palpable. Her eyes flicked between the canvas and you, as though each brushstroke was a confession. For your part, you remained still, though inside you could feel the energy building between you, like an electric current threatening to spark.

"I can’t figure you out," Mel murmured suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Why would you want to?" you asked reflexively, though you already knew the answer. You were used to this—people becoming obsessed with the idea of unraveling you, of discovering why you were the way you were, instead of simply accepting you as you were. But no, humans were selfish; they always wanted more.

"Because I feel like there are so many layers to you... and I want to see them all," Mel said, speaking as though she were discovering a new world, an uncharted planet yet to be named by scientists.

You allowed yourself a soft laugh, though there was a hint of melancholy in it. "Perhaps some things are more beautiful when they remain hidden."

Hours later, just as Mel was about to add the finishing touches, the rain began. The storm arrived abruptly, with heavy drops pelting the windows and wind howling to break in.

"We should stop," Mel said, but you were already on your feet.

You stepped outside without a word, letting the rain soak your dress and hair. Instead of seeking shelter, you began to dance, spinning with your arms outstretched, as though celebrating the storm’s arrival.

Mel watched you from the doorway, utterly captivated. She had never seen anything so beautiful, so pure. Finally, she couldn’t resist and stepped out after you, ignoring the rain drenching her clothes.

When she reached you, you stopped and looked her directly in the eyes. The starry sky seemed to reflect in your gaze, and Mel felt everything else fade away.

Without thinking, you closed the space between you and kissed her. It was a slow, deep kiss, filled with every unsaid word and every promise yet to be made. Promises that would never be kept.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, but neither the rain nor the cold seemed to matter.

"Come with me," Mel said, taking your hand.

You followed her inside, the wooden floorboards creaking softly beneath your soaked shoes. Rainwater drips from your hair, tracing rivulets down the curve of your neck and between the valley of your breasts, visible through the drenched fabric of your black dress. The cool air pebbles your nipples, making them strain against the damp material.

Mel closes the door behind you, the click echoing in the tranquil space. Shadows dance across the whitewashed walls, cast by the flickering candlelight illuminating an array of paintings - vibrant splashes of color amidst the neutral tones. The scent of rain mingles with the earthy aroma of oil paints and turpentine.

"You have no idea how much I've been waiting for this moment," Mel murmurs, her voice low and sultry. She reaches out, trailing a finger along your jawline, tilting your chin up gently. Her touch is cool from the rain, sending shivers down your spine. You laughed softly, enjoying the moment. Her desperation for you was entertaining.

You lean into her hand, your own coming up to cover hers. Your fingers intertwine, thumbs brushing against each other in a intimate caress. Mel's skin is soft, yet calloused from hours spent holding a paintbrush. You bring her hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to her palm, feeling her pulse flutter beneath your touch.

"I've been waiting for this too, Mel,"

Mel's breath hitches, her chest rising and falling more rapidly. She takes another step closer, until your bodies are a mere whisper apart. You can feel the heat radiating off her, a stark contrast to the chill of the rain. Her eyes never leave yours as she reaches for the hem of your dress, slowly, teasingly, peeling the drenched fabric up and over your head.

Cool air kisses your newly exposed skin, making your nipples tighten further. Mel's gaze drops to your chest, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. She leans in, her breath ghosting over the swell of your breasts. Your heart pounds, anticipation coiling in your belly.

You help her shrug out of her own shirt, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Beneath, she wears a lacy bra and a pair of matching panties, both a shade darker than the candlelit room. The damp fabric clings to her curves, hinting at the supple flesh beneath. You reach out, tracing the lace along her collarbone, feeling the heat of her skin through the delicate material.

Mel shivers at your touch, her nipples visibly hardening beneath the flimsy lace. She takes your hand, guiding it lower, over the swell of her breasts, down her taut stomach. Stopping just above the waistband of her panties, she looks up at you through hooded eyes, her gaze smoldering with unspoken desires.

Leaning in, you capture her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all your pent-up longing into the embrace. Mel responds hungrily, her fingers tangling in your damp hair, pulling you closer. Your bodies mold together, the coolness of your rain-soaked skin contrasting with the heat building between you. It was so stimulating.

You walk backwards until your legs hit the edge of the paint-splattered drop cloth draped across the center of the room. Mel's hands roam over your naked back, nails raking lightly over your skin, leaving tingling trails in their wake. She pushes you gently, urging you to sit on the edge of the canvas.

Falling back onto the soft fabric, you watch as Mel unhooks her bra, letting it slip down her arms and onto the floor. Her breasts are full and perfect, topped with chocolate nipples that beg to be tasted. She leans over you, hair falling like a curtain around you both as she takes your hands, placing them on her breasts.

You knead the soft flesh, feeling the weight of her in your palms. Mel arches into your touch, a breathy moan escaping her lips. You roll her nipples between your fingers, feeling them stiffen and peak. Mel's hips undulate against yours, the heat of her core evident even through the layers separating you.

Sitting up, you hook your fingers in the waistband of her panties, slowly dragging them down her long, toned legs. She lifts her hips, helping you remove the last barrier between you. Now, she's bare before you, all smooth skin and tempting curves, illuminated by the flickering candlelight.

She takes your hand, guiding it to the small of her back as she presses herself against you, your hands roaming the curves of her damp dark skin.

"Touch me," Mel breathes, her voice husky with desire. "Feel how much I crave you. My body and my soul needs you."

Your fingers trace her chest, feeling her heart racing beneath your touch. She shivers as your hand cups the soft swell of her breast, your thumb brushing against the hardened peak. A soft moan escapes her lips, her head falling back as she arches into your caress.

You lean in, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck. You can taste the rain on her skin, the salt of her desire. "I want you to touch every inch of my body," you murmur, your voice low and filled with want. "To explore the canvas of my body with your hands, your mouth, until you have mapped every curve and hollow."

Mel's hand slides down your back, her nails raking lightly against your skin. She cups your rear, pulling your hips flush against hers. You can feel the heat of her core, even through the layers of your clothing. "Oh, I'll. There's nothing that i crave more than that," she breathes, her lips a hairsbreadth from yours. "I'll taste all of you."

You capture her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all your pent-up desire and longing into the embrace. She kisses you back fiercely, her tongue plundering your mouth, tangling with yours. Your hands roam her body, squeezing the firm globes of her ass, the soft give of her thighs, the delicate bones of her ribs.

Mel’s hands are just as busy, sliding under your dress. Pulling it down and pushing it off your hips. You kick it off and are left in nothing but a pair of soaked panties. The cool air kisses your hot skin, making you shiver. But then Mel’s hands are on you again, sliding under the damp fabric to cup your most intimate place. Her fingers find your center, caressing the slick folds, eliciting all sorts of reactions from you.

You gasp as Mel’s fingers find your slick heat, your hips bucking at her touch. She caresses your folds, teasing your entrance, feeling your arousal coat her fingers. “You’re so wet,” she murmurs, her voice filled with wonder and desire. “So ready for me.”

You can only moan in response, your head falling back as she circles your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your toes curl. Your hands grip her shoulders, nails digging into her soft skin as the pleasure builds.

Mel leans in, her lips brushing against your ear. "I want to taste your pleasure," she whispers, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "I want to feel you come undone in my mouth, on my tongue."

Before you can respond, she's lowering herself to her knees, her face level with your aching core. She hooks her fingers in the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs. You lift your hips, helping her remove the last barrier between you.

Now you're bare before her, exposed and wanting. Mel looks up at you, her eyes dark with lust as she takes in the sight of your glistening folds. "Beautiful," she breathes. "Absolutely gorgeous. You are a goddess on earth. I'm sure Aphrodite envies every inch of your perfection. The perfect muse. The best work of art."

You smiled at her, pleased. That was why you liked to get involved with artists, their compliments were on another level.

You watch, heart pounding, as she leans in and inhales deeply, taking in your scent. Then, slowly, teasingly, she leans in and drags the flat of her tongue along your slit, from your entrance to your clit. You cry out, your hands fisting in her hair as bolts of electricity shoot through your body.

Mel hums against your flesh, the vibrations adding to the intense sensation. She licks you again, slower this time, savoring your taste. Her tongue delves between your folds, stroking your walls, feeling your silken heat. She laps at your essence, drinking it down like a woman thirsting.

Your hips undulate against her face, seeking more of her touch. She gives you what you crave, sealing her lips around your clit and suckling gently. The dual sensations of her lips and tongue working in tandem has you seeing stars, your chest heaving with each ragged breath.

As she suckles, her fingers find your entrance, plunging inside. She pumps them in and out, curling them to stroke that secret spot deep within you. The pleasure builds.

Mel's fingers pump faster, plunging in and out of your dripping core as she suckles your clit with increasing fervor. The obscene sound of your arousal fills the studio, mingling with your wanton moans and cries. She can feel your walls starting to flutter around her invading fingers, your body tensing as your climax approaches.

Releasing your clit with a wet pop, Mel looks up at you, her lips glistening with your essence. "Come for me," she commands, her voice rough with lust. "I want to feel you come apart on my tongue."

She seals her lips around your clit once more and suckles hard, two fingers pumping relentlessly into your weeping core. That's all it takes to send you flying over the edge. Your body goes rigid, back arching as a scream of ecstasy tears from your throat.

Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over you, your inner walls clenching and spasming around Mel's fingers. She works you through your climax, her tongue and fingers never stilling until the last aftershock subsides. As you come down, she gentles her touch, bringing you back to earth.

Finally, she withdraws her fingers, bringing them to her lips to lick them clean. "Delicious," she purrs, her gaze never leaving yours. "I could feast on you for hours."

Once you've regained some composure, you reach out and take Mel's hands, gently tugging her up until she's sitting beside you on the sofa. She comes willingly, a playful smirk on her face. You pull her into a deep, sensual kiss, tasting yourself on her lips and tongue.

Breaking the kiss, you gaze into her eyes, your own filled with a new kind of hunger. "Now it's my turn to worship you," you murmur, your voice low and filled with desire. I'm going to make you discover new sensations. "I'll take you to heaven and bring you down to hell. At the same time. You won't know what's happening, you won't remember anything. You'll only remember me and the pleasure I'll give you."

You guide Mel to lie back against the sofa cushions, her dark hair fanning out around her head like a halo. She complies, her eyes never leaving yours as you settle between her spread thighs. You can see the anticipation in her gaze, the way her chest rises and falls with each ragged breath.

Starting at her ankles, you begin your exploration, trailing your fingers slowly up her calves. Her skin is soft and smooth. You caress her knees, feeling the firmness of the muscles beneath the skin.

Higher you go, skimming your hands along her thighs. Her skin is warm and slightly damp from the rain, the scent of her arousal perfuming the air. You can see the way her muscles tense and flutter beneath your touch, reacting to your every caress.

At the apex of her thighs, you pause, your gaze locked with hers. She's watching you intently, her lips parted slightly, her chest heaving. You can feel the heat radiating off her core, see the damp patch darkening the fabric of her panties.

Unable to resist, you lean in and press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to her clothed sex. She gasps, her hips jerking up slightly at the contact. The kiss deepens, your lips moving against her, feeling the shape of her beneath the thin material.

You slowly peel Mel's panties down her legs, revealing her glistening folds to your hungry gaze. She lifts her hips to help you remove the last barrier between you and her aching desire. As you toss the soaked fabric aside, you settle between her thighs, your face mere inches from her dripping sex.

Mel's scent fills your nostrils, the heady aroma of her arousal making your head spin with want. You breathe in deeply, relishing her intoxicating essence. She watches you, her eyes hooded and darkened with lust, as you lean in and extend your tongue.

Slowly, teasingly, you drag your tongue along her slit, feeling her slick arousal coat your taste buds. Mel shudders, a soft moan escaping her lips as your mouth makes contact with her most sensitive flesh. You can feel her walls fluttering, reacting to your touch.

Encouraged by her response, you delve deeper, your tongue plunging into her hot, tight channel. You stroke her walls, feeling the silken texture, tasting her ambrosia. Mel's fingers tangle in your hair, gripping tightly as you feast on her sex.

You lave attention on every inch of her glistening folds, your tongue swirling around her throbbing clit before suckling gently on the sensitive bud. Mel writhes beneath you, her thighs clenching around your head as she grinds her hips against your face.

"Don't stop," she pleads, her voice ragged and breathless. "Please don't stop. I need... I need..."

Her words dissolve into a low moan as you double your efforts, your fingers joining your tongue in pleasuring her. You plunge two digits into her dripping core, pumping them in and out, stroking her walls in time with the strokes of your tongue against her clit.

Mel's grip on your hair tightens, her back arching off the sofa cushions as her climax builds rapidly. You can feel her walls starting to clench, her body tensing, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

With a final, hard suckle to her clit and a curl of your fingers deep inside her, you send Mel flying over the edge. She cries out, a sound of pure ecstasy, as her orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave.

As Mel's climax subsides, her body goes limp against the sofa, chest heaving as she catches her breath. You place a final, gentle kiss on her sensitive flesh before slowly crawling up her body, leaving a trail of soft kisses along her skin like the perfect lover you were.

Reaching her lips, you capture them in a searing, passionate kiss, pouring all your love and desire into the embrace. Mel kisses you back fiercely, tasting herself on your mouth, moaning softly as her fingers caress your face.

Breaking the kiss, you gaze into her eyes, your own shining with adoration and a deep sense of satisfaction. "That was incredible," you whisper, brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead. "You're incredible."

Mel smiles, her cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with post-orgasmic bliss. "I could say the same to you," she murmurs, pulling you down for another tender kiss. "Never in my life have I felt so... complete. So utterly satisfied."

You settle beside her on the sofa, your bodies pressed close, legs entwined. The candlelight flickers over your naked forms, casting a warm, intimate glow. You trace patterns on her skin, marveling at the softness, the smoothness, the way she shivers at your touch.

Mel nestles closer, resting her head on your chest, listening to the steady beat of your heart. Your fingers comb through her dark hair, gently disentangling the damp locks. She sighs contentedly, her hand resting on your stomach, her thumb tracing idle circles on your skin.

In the comfortable silence, you both bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking, the intimacy of the moment. The studio, once filled with the sounds of your passion, now holds a serene, tranquil atmosphere.

Outside, the rain continues to patter against the window panes, the wind whispering through the trees.

Mel quickly fell asleep on your shoulder, you smiled at the tenderness. You adjusted her to a better position and remained silent with your thoughts. You stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if you had made another mistake.

The morning after that night under the rain, Mel woke up with a calmness she couldn’t recall feeling before. She turned toward your side of the sofá, and there you were, eyes closed, your head slightly tilted to one side, as if sleep had found you in the middle of a deep thought. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine that scene repeating every day: you, her, the intimacy of dawn.

But when you opened your eyes, the warmth Mel had hoped for wasn’t there. A polite smile, nothing more. Your movements were gentle yet distant, as if you were preparing for a farewell you hadn’t yet spoken.

“Will you stay for breakfast?” she asked, trying to conceal the vulnerability creeping into her voice.

“I can’t. There are things I need to do,” you replied as you got out of the furniture, dressing at a pace neither hurried nor inviting, leaving no room for Mel to insist.

And so began the days that followed. Mel, eager to draw closer to you, and you, keeping your distance, though you occasionally let glimpses of a deeper connection shine through. Each time she thought she’d breached your walls, you rebuilt them with a coldness that left her unsettled.

Your relationship became a whirlwind of intense, conflicting emotions. On one hand, there were moments when Mel felt you were entirely hers: your touches, your kisses, the overwhelming passion you shared when together. But then came the silences, the averted gazes, the evasive answers that left Mel feeling hollow.

One night, after one of those breathtakingly passionate encounters, Mel finally dared to ask what had been weighing on her for weeks.

“Why do you do this?”

You turned to look at her, your eyes flickering with a mixture of surprise and caution. “Do what?”

“Be so close to me… and then so far away,” Mel said, her voice trembling slightly. “I feel like every time I think I know you, you pull away. As if you want to keep me at arm’s length.”

You sighed, averting your gaze toward the window, as though you wished to escape both her and the conversation. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then explain it to me,” Mel pressed. “Let me understand you.”

For a moment, you seemed torn between the instinct to flee and the possibility of opening up. Finally, you rose from the bed, walking toward the window, wrapping yourself in a sheet. From there, you stared out at the city, your thoughts warring within you.

“There was someone before you, before anyone else,” you began, your voice a mere whisper. “Someone who taught me that you can’t love without losing a part of yourself.” You closed your eyes for a moment, blocking out memories that still stung.

Mel sat up, hugging her knees, waiting for you to continue. She didn’t dare interrupt, fearing any word might make you retreat.

“Her name was Caitlyn,” you said at last, her name still difficult to speak. “She was… perfect. Or at least, that’s what I believed. She was everything I’m not: just, noble, constant. And I… I was her opposite. We were like night and day, but somehow, we worked. Or so I thought.”

You paused, and Mel could see the tension in your shoulders, as if the weight of your memories was too much to bear.

“At first, it was exhilarating. She made me feel alive, like I’d finally found a place where I belonged. But then… the differences began to show. Caitlyn wanted order, rules, a clear purpose. And I… I’m chaos. I’ve always been. I tried to be what she needed, I tried to change, but it was never enough. To Caitlyn, I was always a problem to solve, a piece that didn’t fit into her perfect world.”

Mel edged closer to you but didn’t dare touch you. “What happened to her?”

“She left,” you said, your voice steady but laden with pain. “She left because she couldn’t handle what I am. She left because she couldn’t endure the chaos. And I… well, I learned not to expect anything from anyone.”

You turned to Mel, and your eyes held something she hadn’t seen before: vulnerability. “That’s what I am, Mel. Chaos. I’m not constant, I’m not someone you can understand or fix. And I’m certainly not someone you can save.”

Mel shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t want to save you. I just want… to be with you. I want you to let me try.”

You smiled sadly, stepping closer and cupping her face in your hands. “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved,” you whispered before kissing her with an intensity that seemed to etch your words into her heart.

That night, while Mel slept, her breathing soft and steady, you stared at the ceiling, your thoughts oscillating between the serenity of the moment and the storm raging in your mind. Her presence beside you, her gentle warmth, was a constant reminder of what she offered and what you could never fully give back.

Your gaze drifted to her face. In the faint light streaming through the window, she looked angelic—lips slightly parted, hair tousled yet perfect. Her softness, the way her body relaxed under the sheets, radiated a warmth that felt foreign to you.

But it wasn’t her you were thinking of. Unbidden, your mind wandered to Caitlyn. Mel’s face blurred, morphing for an instant into Caitlyn’s, and the echoes of nights spent with her stirred in your chest.

You remembered how Caitlyn used to sleep differently—more composed, her movements deliberate, even in the vulnerability of rest. The contrast with Mel was stark. Caitlyn had never been as open, as vulnerable as Mel. Her love had been stern, unyielding, and what hurt the most was that what you had felt for Caitlyn was nothing like what you felt now for Mel.

You wondered if, deep down, you wished Caitlyn were the one beside you now, holding you, breathing softly by your side. Sometimes, the thought of Caitlyn drew a sigh from your lips, and you couldn’t tell if you lamented it or longed for it with every fiber of your being. Perhaps, you thought, if Caitlyn had been there, things would have been different. She wouldn’t have allowed you to pull away. She would have fought for you, for your love.

But Caitlyn was gone. Caitlyn had left you, taking with her the chance to experience what a genuine, albeit imperfect, love could be. And now, here you were, with Mel, who, without intending to, was overwhelming you with her boundless love and expectations. A love so pure yet too much for someone like you, who had grown used to the emptiness, the cold that kept you safe.

As your eyes traced Mel’s peaceful features, you realized that while your body was here, beside her, your heart, no matter how much you tried to deny it, still sought Caitlyn. It was as if her image was etched into your mind, haunting every corner of your life.

“Why aren’t you her?” you whispered in your thoughts, wishing Mel’s presence could replace what you had lost. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t fair. Not to Mel, and not to yourself.

Caitlyn had been a part of you that you could never reclaim, and maybe—just maybe—that was why you kept your distance. For fear that Mel would become the next victim of a wound that had never truly healed.

You knew Mel was beginning to idealize you, to believe she could change you, as if love alone could mend the cracks in your soul. But you had learned the hard way that it couldn’t. Love doesn’t save; it transforms. And sometimes, those transformations left more scars than they healed.

You promised yourself that, for her sake, you wouldn’t let her get too close. Yet part of you—that small, fractured part that still yearned to feel something other than emptiness—hoped she wouldn’t give up. Yes. You were human, and you were selfish too.

Though your days unfolded with the tranquility of routine, your heart beat in chaotic disarray. At times, you couldn't help but think that Mel was an illusion—a figure too radiant, too intense. And yet, when you looked at her, you knew she was real. She was there, always, her eyes shining with a love so profound and genuine it seemed to consume you, leaving no room to escape.

You kept your distance, of course, because you couldn’t give her what she wanted—what she longed for. Deep down, you knew you’d never be the woman she believed you could become.

Mel was entirely devoted to you, and you were painfully aware of it. To her, you were the muse of her dreams, the missing piece in her life. Her art, her world—everything revolved around you. And no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you knew you had become the center of her existence.

In her infinite passion, she had finished the painting she had been tirelessly working on. Each brushstroke was a silent cry from her heart—a tapestry woven from emotion and anguish, love and despair. The canvas now hanging in her studio captured the magnitude of what you shared but also the boundaries of what you were willing to give. The painting was beautiful, no doubt, but it was also a mirror reflecting all you could never be for her.

The city’s cultural showcase arrived, and as expected, Mel invited you. You felt at ease in the spotlight—you were born for it. The world around you was like a stage you commanded effortlessly. It was so easy, in fact, that it often bored you, driving you to seek novelty, to avoid stagnation at any cost.

You moved through the crowd, flirting shamelessly, aware that Mel couldn’t take her eyes off you. You found it amusing, you had to admit, but you didn’t care about her opinion or her feelings. You had learned to live only for yourself, as everyone should.

The painting was there, standing as a silent declaration of what had been between you. People gathered around it, observing, commenting, admiring. They all said the same things: “It’s stunning.” “A masterpiece.” But you knew that, for Mel, the painting wasn’t just a piece of art. It was a testament to what she felt for you. And that realization stung more than you had expected.

At the end of the night, as the crowd thinned, Mel took your hand with an expression of pride and vulnerability.

“You’ve charmed everyone tonight. Do you realize what you’ve done?” she said, her voice soft but brimming with emotion. “You helped me break through. My work is a success because of you.”

The light in her eyes reflected an uncomfortable truth. She wasn’t just talking about the painting. She didn’t see you merely as a muse for her art. She saw you as something more—something you didn’t know how to handle.

Mel wrapped her arms around you, her body pressing against yours with a familiarity that unsettled you. But when her lips moved closer, when she tried to kiss you, something inside you shattered. You turned your face away abruptly, rejecting her without hesitation.

Her expression shifted from surprise to confusion, then to frustration. It seemed as though she couldn’t comprehend what she had done wrong. It didn’t matter how much she tried; you didn’t feel the same, and you never would, no matter how many gestures of love or tender words she offered.

Your gaze drifted back to the painting—a portrait of you that seemed to delve far beyond the surface. Who were you in that painting? Who were you to Mel? A muse? A perfect image in her mind? A fantasy she could never fulfill?

Before you could speak, Mel broke the silence, her tone urgent, almost desperate.

“I need you to know how I feel,” she said, her voice trembling slightly, as if each word cost her a great effort. “I need more from you. I want you to be mine—entirely. Not just your body, but your soul.”

Her words hit you like a crashing wave against an immovable stone. You felt trapped, as though you were being pulled into something you couldn’t control. But you couldn’t give her what she was asking for. You couldn’t promise her a future that didn’t exist.

“I’ve given you everything I have,” Mel continued, her voice softer now, fragile, like glass on the verge of breaking. “I’ve opened my heart, my mind, my art. But there’s still something missing. Something I don’t want to ask for, but I can’t stop longing for.”

The air in the room grew thick, suffocating. You could hardly breathe, as though an invisible force was tightening around your chest. The weight of her gaze, the intensity of her desire, crushed you.

“Mel…” you finally said, your voice cold, almost detached—a wall you had built to protect yourself. “I’ve been clear from the start. You’ll never be Caitlyn. No one ever will.”

Mel recoiled slightly, as if your words had struck her like a physical blow. Her eyes shimmered with pain, but she said nothing. She simply stared at you, searching for solace, for some sliver of hope. But there was nothing you could give her.

“You’ve fallen in love with an idea that isn’t real,” you said firmly, each word leaving your lips like a dagger. “No one will ever make me love again the way I loved her. I’m not a hero. I’m not a savior. I’m not what you’re looking for. What I can give you will never be enough.”

Mel opened her mouth, but no words came out at first. She was processing, grasping for a way to undo what had just been said, to rewrite your words, to make them her own. But the words were already spoken. There was no turning back.

At last, the chill of your voice broke her.

“Then… what are we? What have I been to you?” she asked, her voice trembling, her body rigid, as though she wanted to run but couldn’t.

You stepped closer, though you made sure to keep an emotional distance. She needed to understand, no matter how much it hurt.

“What we are is nothing, Mel,” you said with unflinching resolve. “You and I are nothing. And there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

The air between you grew heavier, almost unbearable. The words hung in the room like a dense fog, enveloping everything around you. Mel stood frozen, her eyes brimming with a mixture of sorrow and disbelief. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped. It seemed she couldn’t fully process what you had just told her.

You knew those words were the cruelest you’d ever spoken, but they were also the most necessary. You couldn’t keep dragging Mel into a love you couldn’t reciprocate, and you couldn’t keep seeing her as someone she wasn’t.

She could never replace what you had lost with Caitlyn, and you couldn’t keep fooling yourself—or her.

Turning away, you let the silence between you grow. As you walked toward the exit, a knot tightened in your stomach. The words exchanged between you wouldn’t change anything. Perhaps the chasm between you was deeper than either of you had ever imagined.

Mel would never fully understand what you had lost or what it had cost you to get here. And even if you wanted to, you couldn’t give her more.

The silence of those three days was torment itself. The gallery room, the paintings, the space you shared—it all remained, untouched, like an open wound refusing to heal. Time crept by sluggishly, as though the world itself had come to a halt. Mel didn’t seek you out. She had been shattered, and the image of her face—confused, hurt, and broken—lingered in your mind like a ghost. You knew what you’d said had been necessary, but you also knew it had fractured something deep within her. You never intended to hurt her, but some truths, no matter how cruel, serve as shields. And this wall you had built was meant to protect you both.

By the third day, when you thought you might finally begin to breathe without the weight of her gaze, she appeared.

Mel stood at the door of your apartment. Her eyes were red, swollen from what must have been hours—perhaps days—of crying. Her face was drawn, and when she finally spoke, her voice was as fractured as her composure, trembling under the weight of words that seemed to cost her everything.

"I need to talk to you," she said, her voice trembling.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You simply looked at her, and for a fleeting moment, the world vanished. There was only her—the woman who had stormed into your life with all the force of a tempest, leaving you unsteady in her wake. And now, that tempest seemed extinguished, leaving behind nothing but the vulnerability you had feared seeing.

"I know I overstepped—I didn’t respect your space when you needed it, I know that," she began, her hands clenched tightly at her sides, as though bracing herself. "But I can do better. I can’t let this end like this, Zephyr. I can’t let us hang in this void."

Her eyes glistened with a determination that made you hesitate. It was as if she was clawing for a lifeline, pleading silently for forgiveness—for the chance to undo what had already been done. Yet, instead of retreating, she stepped closer, her words growing more desperate, more raw.

"I—I love you. Do you understand? I love you," she said, her voice cracking under the weight of the confession. "I’ve tried, but I can’t live without you. I’ve thought about it, over and over, and I can’t leave this unfinished. I need us to matter."

You stood frozen, her words hanging in the air like shards of glass. Part of you wanted to reach for her, to tell her what she wanted to hear. But fear—fear of causing her more pain—anchored you to the spot.

"Mel..." you whispered finally, your voice soft, yet laced with a coldness you couldn’t suppress. "I warned you from the start—not to fall in love with me."

The words lingered in the space between you, and for a moment, you thought she might not understand. But the light in her eyes didn’t fade. Instead, her gaze grew more intense, as though she were searching for a crack, a weakness, a way to prove you wrong.

"But why? Why not?" she pressed, her hands now reaching out to you, as if trying to pull you back to her, back to the love she so desperately clung to. "We can go to London. We can start fresh, together. I need to return to my work there, but I won’t leave you behind. I promised myself I wouldn’t. Come with me—everything will change. I’ll make sure you never regret it. Please, just say yes. Say yes to me."

Her words hung in the air, shimmering with promises of a future that felt more like a dream than reality. London, a fresh start, a new chapter—it all sounded so perfect, as though the past could be erased with one step forward. But you knew better. You knew you couldn’t escape the truth of what you felt—or didn’t feel.

"Mel," you sighed, letting the carefully built walls around your heart crumble. "It’s not about any of that. I don’t care if you leave or stay. I have my life here, and I’m happy in my own way. I don’t need you, Mel—I never did. And you don’t need me either. No one needs someone else to survive. It feels that way now, but in time, you’ll see I was right."

She took another step toward you, her eyes searching yours desperately, as if willing you to change your mind. But all you could do was hold her gaze, unable to offer the solace she craved.

"I care about you, Mel," you continued, your voice heavy with sorrow, "but not the way you care about me. Not the way you need me to. I can’t keep being the lifeline you’re grasping at. I told you not to fall for me because I knew I couldn’t be what you wanted."

Her breath hitched, and the raw anguish in her eyes was almost unbearable.

"Then what am I to you?" she asked, her voice a fragile whisper. "What have I been to you, if not what I hoped?"

You held her gaze, searching for the right words, but none would come. You couldn’t tell her she had been nothing more than an illusion—a reflection of what she wanted to see. And yet, you knew you couldn’t keep pretending to be something you weren’t.

"You are someone who brought light into my life," you said at last, your tone as heavy as hers. "Someone who gave me moments of joy, of companionship. I’ve learned from you, Mel. But that’s not enough. I can’t be what you’re looking for. I’m not who you think I am."

Her expression shattered further, the pale mask of her face cracking under the weight of your words. Her lips trembled as she struggled to respond, to find some ground to stand on in the midst of your rejection.

"What do you want from me?" she asked finally, her voice breaking. "What can I do to make you see how much I love you? What more can I give?"

"Let me go," you replied softly, each word carrying the weight of a thousand unsaid truths. "Let me go, so you can find what you truly need. It isn’t me."

The silence between you became suffocating. The air itself felt heavier, the moment unbearable in its finality. She stood frozen, as though the world had stopped around her, unable to process what you had just said.

You took a slow breath, knowing what you had to do next.

"Tell me," you said, your voice steady, though tinged with sadness, "what’s my favorite color?"

She blinked, stunned by the question. Her gaze flitted across your face, searching for an answer, for some clue. But you both knew she didn’t know.

The silence stretched, and finally, she admitted it. She didn’t know.

That was all the proof you needed.

You smiled softly, the gesture laced with sorrow.

"You don’t know me, Mel," you said gently. "You’re not in love with me. You’re in love with the idea of me—the version of me you’ve created in your mind. Not the real me."

Before her, your figure stood firm, distant—a shadow fading slowly into the past.

No more words were needed. Everything had already been said, each syllable carving the path to this inevitable moment. The goodbye had been silently written long before, and now the last chapter was closing. Mel’s heart thundered in her chest, a pain blossoming within her that defied words. So much remained unspoken, so many pleas hovered on her lips, yet none escaped. She knew the truth—this ending was already written, and no force in the world could rewrite it.

You stepped toward her, and though the storm inside threatened to consume her, Mel didn’t move, didn’t speak. How she wished for simplicity, for perfection—for you to look at her with the same love that she had poured into you endlessly. But reality painted a different picture.

With a gentleness that was almost cruel in its tenderness, you kissed her cheek. The touch, fleeting as it was, carried the weight of an eternity. Mel closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the gesture seep into her skin. But it wasn’t the kiss itself that shattered her—it was the sadness behind it, the resignation of a love that had never flourished the way she had dreamed.

“Thank you for everything,” you said, your voice steady yet distant. “For all that we shared. But this... it can’t continue.”

Mel’s eyes searched yours, desperate for a flicker of doubt, a hint that perhaps this wasn’t final. But all she found was determination—unyielding and absolute—lodging itself into her chest like a dagger.

She couldn’t understand. She couldn’t accept it.

“Why?” she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling under the weight of her anguish.

You hesitated, your gaze softening momentarily. Then, stepping back, you looked at her with a bittersweet blend of sorrow and resolve. It was as if everything Mel had ever sought in you, every piece of the connection she had tried to weave, was now slipping through her fingers like sand.

“I don’t want you to keep waiting for something I can’t give,” you began, your tone firm but tinged with regret. “I don’t want you to waste your time. Time is precious, Mel. And I can’t change who I am, nor do I want to. Not for you, not for anyone. The healthiest thing for both of us is to say goodbye and move on with our lives—as we were always meant to.”

The words hit her like a tidal wave, the air rushing from her lungs as though the ground had been pulled out from under her. Goodbye? Was this truly it? Could everything they had built, everything they had shared, crumble so easily in a single breath?

“No!” she cried out, her voice rising involuntarily, as if sheer desperation could bend fate. But the plea felt hollow, echoing in the void between them. There was nothing left to salvage.

You studied her for a long moment, your expression unreadable. There was no anger in your eyes, only the quiet sorrow of someone bidding farewell to a dream that had never truly been theirs. Mel’s tear-filled gaze searched for answers, for something—anything—that could stop this unraveling. But all she found was silence.

It was over.

Mel swallowed hard, feeling a fracture deep within her soul. She couldn’t let the despair consume her, couldn’t let the pain define her. And yet, it did. It was as if the weight of the universe had descended upon her, every emotion—grief, abandonment, inadequacy—crashing over her all at once.

You turned away, your steps carrying you toward the door. The finality of it hung in the air like a storm cloud. Mel remained frozen, unable to move, unable to speak. She could only watch as the last vestiges of what she had cherished slipped away.

At the threshold, you paused. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though you might turn back, as though the story might still change. But you didn’t. Instead, you sighed softly, your back to her, the weight of unspoken words heavy in the space between you.

“Goodbye, Mel,” you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath. And with that final whisper, you disappeared, leaving her alone with the emptiness, the ache, and the reality that nothing could be undone.

Mel stood there in the stillness, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the room. Minutes passed before she finally moved, retreating into the solitude of her home. The quiet enveloped her, and the weight of your absence pressed down with unbearable force. Something inside her had shattered, something she knew could never be made whole again.

By the next morning, Mel was at the airport, her ticket to London clutched tightly in her hand. The cold city air greeted her as she stepped off the plane, biting against her skin as if to remind her she was still alive. But inside, she felt hollow.

In her hand, she held a postcard—a picture of the Greek isles, the sea and mountains stretching endlessly. It was one of the few remnants of you she still possessed, a fragment of the life you had once shared. Staring at it, a phrase echoed in her mind, as clear as if you had whispered it in her ear:

“Promise me that you won’t fall in love with me.”

And in that moment, something broke entirely. It was the hardest truth she had ever faced, the truth she had buried deep within her heart. She had never been enough. She would never be enough.

But she accepted it. With a heart fractured but resolute, she accepted it. And as she stepped into the crowd, she understood a lesson she had always known: some stories do not end happily. Peace is not always attainable. But at least the love she had felt was real, even if it had not been returned.

#arcane x reader #arcane au #arcane fanfic #arcane imagine #arcane smut #arcane x female reader #arcane #arcane fluff #arcane x you #mel medarda #mel x reader #mel arcane #mel smut #mel fanfic #mel league of legends #mel my beloved #wlw writing #wlw

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lokisprettygirl · 2 months ago

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Twice the love (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Modern Au)

Chapter 1

Summary : You meet the love of your life during the worst night of your life but your man might not be who he claims to be.

Warning: Drowning, Resuscitation, Mention of suicidal ideation, alludes to cheating and smut

Note : I'm working on the next chapter of RTHF (I'm not abandoning it) but I had this little thing in my head so decided to write it down.

You remembered that night clearly as if it were yesterday, the night you had seen him for the first time, the night he had saved your life.

You had no intention of dying per say but you were drunk, depressed and lacked the most important skill one required before jumping into the water that was supposedly way deeper than 4 feet. Looking back now perhaps you wanted to die that night, or maybe you had a distorted sense of ideation but he had saved you.

You didn't remember much when he resuscitated you but you remembered his face, his angelic godly face, you remembered his greenish hazel eyes, his cheekbones that were sharper than your wit, and you remembered his silver hair, his curls wet and sticking onto his forehead.

“Come on darling, don't give up, you can't give up”

You remembered hearing his soft murmur as he tried his best to pump the water out of your lungs.

You remembered his face vividly, but then you slipped into unconsciousness once more. When you awoke, you found yourself encircled by your friends, none of whom knew anything about the person who had saved your life, not even his name. He had quietly departed after ensuring you were safe amongst your loved ones.

From that moment onwards you felt as if you owed your life to him, an innate sense of gratitude filled your heart for that strange gentleman, it was as if that angelic man had stolen a part of your soul that you would never be able to reclaim again unless or until you see him but how were you supposed to find him? You didn't even know his name or where he had come from, all you remembered was his beautiful face.

You dreamt of him pretty often, innocuous dreams at first that became intimate later on, more than intimate if you were being honest with yourself, you saw his face so vividly as if he was actually there. You had committed every little feature to your memory, and everytime you woke up, you woke up with heavy breaths and a burning in your loins but then followed the disappointment and the emptiness, a void that you could never fill.

It all came to a stop though, a year later you saw him in a bar, having drinks with his friends, before you could stop yourself your feet dragged you to him on their own, like a moth to a flame you approached him, gently tugging on his forearm to get his attention, you could hear his friends making crude jokes in the background but you didn't care at the moment..

Perhaps you should have cared, and you should have noticed how he had joined them instead of shutting it down immediately. You should have noticed.

“Do you remember me?”

You mustered the courage to ask, your voice tinged with hope and a hint of vulnerability. He took one last swig of his drink before turning his attention towards you finally, looking at you from head to toe.

"Should I?" he inquired, his eyes meeting yours with a look of mild confusion. A year had passed since that night, and you couldn't help but wonder if he had forgotten you, a messed-up drunk stranger he had pulled from the water. Despite the doubts in your mind, you held onto a sliver of hope.

It was him, you wouldn't forget that face, that much you knew, he had been in your dreams almost every other night since that fateful one, he had been making it difficult for you to forget him.

“You saved my life two years ago, Margate beach?” You spoke nervously, sounding like an idiot probably so he chuckled and then smirked in response.

“Of Course i remember, how could I forget you love?”

He told you and you breathed a sigh of relief as you heard those words.

He remembered you.

Now two years later you found yourself seated at a dinner rehearsal, some cousin of his you didn't even know or even heard of before.

He insisted you join him as his plus one even though he knew how important this week was for you and your late blooming career. You didn't want to upset him so you obliged, he had saved your life after all.

You didn't like upsetting him, you didn't like it when he got mad and raised his voice and-

“Excuse me, i think you're in the wrong seat” You heard a lady's voice so you got up and excused yourself as you stepped out of the lounge.

It didn't matter if he got upset sometimes, he had saved your life, perhaps he wasn't how you had imagined him to be in your head during that year you had dreamt of him but you loved him now and he made you happy…at times. It wasn't all bad.

You tried your best to make sure it wasn't all bad.

As you saw him leaning against the bannister in the corridor you approached him from behind and hugged him tightly. His familiar presence eased your anxiety a little.

“You brought me here and left me with people I don't know -”

You mumbled softly so he turned around, you didn't recognise the clothes he was wearing, a black suit you didn't even know he owned, it certainly wasn't his style, you were sure he had packed something else for the rehearsal dinner.

His eyes widened as he faced you and stared at you as if he was seeing you after a long time.

“You-” he spoke softly but then he paused for a moment, his eyes kept flickering, “You are okay” he continued so you looked at him confused,

“I'm okay yeah but I was missing you, I don't know anyone and I sat on the wrong seat like a moron”

He placed his fingers on your cheek and caressed your skin, his touch felt different- softer, more loving, you couldn't really describe it but he seemed gentler, a feeling you have never had before with him, perhaps it was his surroundings, being around the family must have been comforting.

It just bothered you how he had never told you anything about his family or his siblings but then you never told him about your family either, not because you didn't want to, but because he didn't ask.

In the past two years he never even asked why you were so drunk that night that you forgot you couldn't really swim.

Before your thoughts could spiral you cradled his cheeks between your palms and got on your tiptoes to kiss him ever so tenderly. He seemed as if he was taken aback for a moment but then he reciprocated the kiss, you felt your whole body lighting up as he moved his lips against yours, his touch felt soothing, like warm fire in cold winter, he tasted different and he smelled different so you pulled away to look at him for a moment as you couldn't really make sense of it.

“Ray-” You spoke nervously but then you heard his voice.

“I see you have met my twin, love”

You heard his voice so you looked behind in shock, you found your boyfriend of two years standing right behind you, the man who had saved your life staring back at you or so you thought.

“Raymond” You gulped in confusion as you said his name so he walked towards you and placed his arm around your waist to pull your closer, his fingers digging into your waist almost painfully, in the surrealism of the moment you didn't notice how how his hair looked the same way it did after he made love to you or how there was a red mark on his neck that you certainly didn't give him.

“Your brother?” You mumbled as you looked at the man in front of you, the man you had kissed just now, the man whose kiss had made you feel alive again, almost like that night when he had-

As your eyes welled up he furrowed his brows and brought his hand forward-

“Daemon.. Daemon Targaryen, it's good to see you..again.. darling”

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

Chapter 2

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen x reader fluff #daemon targaryen x reader smut #daemon targaryen x reader angst #non canon au #modern au

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eyesofbong · 4 months ago

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Red Spider Lily ꕥ

art cred. @taak_CHOI on twitter/x

❀ pairing. Chrollo Lucilfer x Founding!Spider Reader

❁ warning. mention of death. Just pure angst ♡

✿ word count. 1.5k

✽ sypnosis. unrequited love, is still love isn't it just as beautiful?

A/N: This piece was inspired by the random red spider lily I found this morning, blooming in the middle of my yard right on time for September—its season. It was particularly strange since I’ve never had one grow before. (My dog tried to eat it.) Also, the chain I’ve had since I was a child randomly broke a couple of nights ago after being indestructible for years! I’m taking it all as a sign. side eye...

The crimson flowers danced in the wind, their delicate petals reaching out, as if grasping for something lost in the void. Red spider lilies—each bloom a splash of scarlet against the gray, lifeless earth. They thrived here, in this forsaken field, where death had long claimed dominion. You stood among them, feeling the chill of the breeze slip through the narrow spaces between the petals, carrying with it the faint, sweet scent of decay—a cruel reminder that beauty and death often walked hand in hand, inseparable, like lovers bound by some twisted fate.

For a long moment, there was only the wind and the rustle of flowers. You didn’t notice him at first. Not until his voice, soft as a whisper, cut through the silence, slicing into your thoughts like a blade you hadn’t seen coming.

“They say these flowers bloom along the Sanzu River,” Chrollo murmured, each word caressing the air like a secret. “Guiding souls to their next life. A fitting backdrop, don’t you think?”

You turned slowly, as if moving through water, your heart stumbling in your chest. And there he was—Chrollo, standing at the edge of the field. His dark cloak fluttered slightly in the wind, like a shadow with its own life. He looked almost like one of the flowers, swaying in the breeze, a figure easily lost among the shifting light and shadows. He gazed intently at the sea of red, a faint smile playing on his lips, yet it never reached his eyes. Eyes dark and deep, like an abyss that promised to swallow you whole.

His expression was unreadable and distant, as if he were looking at something far away, something only he could see.

“I always thought their beauty was wasted on something so fleeting as death,” he continued, his gaze never wavering. “But maybe that’s why they’re so beautiful... because they don’t try to hold on.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, yet they left you feeling hollow, like an echo of something you couldn’t quite grasp. There was a time when you knew that face so well, when every subtle shift in his expression, every flicker in his eyes, told you more than words ever could. But now, that face was a stranger’s—a mask you could no longer read, a portrait painted with shadows and cold light.

You longed for the warmth you once saw there, the softness that had made you believe in things you knew were impossible. His mind, once an open book, had become a locked room, the key stolen, leaving you stranded on the outside.

He stepped closer, and you felt the air shift around you, charged with something you couldn’t name. Your body tensed, muscles tightening as if preparing for a blow that never came. His fingers brushed against yours, so lightly it might have been a dream, as he handed you a single red spider lily. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, an electric jolt that numbed the ache you carried inside—the yearning you kept hidden, even from yourself.

The flower trembled in your hands, and you held it as if it were made of glass, fragile enough to shatter at the slightest pressure. It felt like a lifeline, a thread binding you to this world, to him. To everything you had ever wanted but knew you could never have. Because this was love to you. A quiet, desperate love with no place in words. A love that thrived in shadows, in stolen glances, in moments when his hand brushed yours and sent your heart racing.

You were content to hide it, to bury it deep where he would never see, because you knew he didn’t need to know. You’d rather pretend. Pretend that this was enough—that his presence, his breath mingling with yours in the cold night air, was all you needed.

You looked down at the flower in your hand. It was small and fragile, its petals a deep, crimson red, like drops of blood on bone. It was nothing compared to the treasures you had stolen for him, the riches you had laid at his feet, hoping for a smile, a word, a touch. And yet, it was everything. This single, fleeting gesture—a flower plucked from the earth, handed to you without thought or care—was worth more than anything. The fact that he had given it to you, even with such a cold, detached expression, made your heart flutter like the wings of a dying bird.

Your leader had given you a flower. You could survive on that alone, on the knowledge that, for one brief moment, he had seen you and thought of you.

This was love to you, and you were content with it. Hiding your heart from him because you didn’t need to tell him. You’d rather pretend. Because your love was different—silent, enduring, untouched by the light of day. A love that thrived in quiet spaces, where hope and heartache intertwined like the roots of a tree. You would rather pretend, because its purity was its own reward. It wasn’t about wanting something in return. You knew he would never love you back—not in the way you loved him. And that was fine. You had accepted it long ago.

Your love was about loving him so deeply that you were willing to feel everything, even the pain of knowing he would never feel the same. You had become accustomed to that pain; it had become part of you, a constant companion, a reminder that you were alive, that you could love, even if that love would never be returned.

Your love had survived against all odds, even after he had led the massacre of the Kurta. It was a love that filled the spaces between words left unsaid, in looks that lingered too long, in the silent longing that never truly faded. He had always been out of reach, even when you were children. Always slipping through your fingers like smoke, like a dream you couldn’t quite hold onto.

Perhaps that’s why you clung to him so tightly, why you adopted his ideas as your own, why you never questioned his decisions. You would do anything for him. Anything, if it meant you could stay by his side just a little longer, even if that light were cold and indifferent.

Your love was both a gift and a burden, a testament to the heart’s ability to love fiercely without the promise of anything in return. Pakunoda had seen it—the way your love consumed you, the way it burned like a slow, smoldering fire that refused to go out.

“Can you make these feelings go away?” You had whispered to her once, hiding your face in her shoulder, her arms the only sanctuary you knew. “Can you make it stop?”

The sharp pain of the chain cutting into your heart brought you back to the present, tearing you away from that memory. Blood warmed your lips, pooling at the corners of your mouth, and the world around you blurred into a mess of color and sound. You clung to the lily he had given you, cradling it close even as the chains tightened around you, threatening to crush it in your grasp.

You didn’t blame Chrollo. Not for your pain, not for your death. These were choices you had made willingly, with your eyes open and your heart laid bare. You would make them again, a thousand times over, if it meant you could have this—a flower, a moment, a breath in his presence.

The chain user was gone, and you felt the presence of the other Troupe members drawing nearer, their shouts growing fainter in your ears, echoes from a place you could no longer reach. You had seen all the signs. You had known. But still, you had chosen to believe. To pretend. Because it was easier than facing the truth.

Your vision blurred, but you felt him there, his arms around you, holding you close. For a moment, your heart surged with hope—a foolish hope that maybe, just maybe, he cared. That maybe, this time, he would say something—anything to make the pain go away.

Your fingers tightened around the withering red spider lily, its petals soft and fragile against your skin. Through blurry vision, your eyes searched his face, desperate for a sign. But all you found was the same unreadable mask, the same cold distance. The silence between you was suffocating, more painful than any wound.

In that silence, you finally understood—he would never love you the way you loved him. You were just another piece on his board, another pawn in his game.

“But maybe that’s why they’re so beautiful... because they don’t try to hold on.”

Your grip weakened, and the flower slipped from your fingers, its petals scattering like the remnants of your heart.

So, you let go. Not just of the flower, but of the love that had been your constant torment. You released it into the wind, into the void between you, accepting the truth you had fought so hard to deny.

Maybe, as you crossed the Sanzu River, you would see the cities he burned—for you.

#chrollo x reader #chrollo #chrollo hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter #chrollo lucifer x reader #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x you #hxh chrollo #phantom troupe #chrollo fanfic #chrollo angst #pakunoda

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amourane · 8 months ago

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new discoveries

pairing: remus lupin x reader

genre: modern au, fluff

w/c: 1.6k

summary: moving into a new place was hard enough but now there was a handsome stranger that made your heart skip a beat.

warnings: none

a/n: this one is my dream meet cute guys

Moving into your new flat was a pain. Having lived in your old one for nearly five years meant that you were leaving many memories behind. You had gathered so much stuff from the past couple of years and it meant that you had a lot of things to move into your new flat.

So here you were, hauling multiple bags and boxes of your stuff into the elevator. The moving van was due to come tomorrow with all of your furniture. You were carrying a huge duffel bag and three boxes, filled with the little things that you thought you would be able to carry with ease. That thought had left you now.

A normal person would have taken two rounds to carry their things up to their flat but you were a bit lazy. You also didn’t want your things to potentially get stolen. In your mind, your new place wasn’t going to be too far but you were wrong.

It took more than half an hour to just balance the boxes in your hands and try to press the elevator button on the right floor. Your finger fiddled carelessly with the button and you pushed it and waited as the arrow indicated you were going up. However, it became very clear that you were not where you were supposed to be as you were greeted with a corridor full of identical doors.

“Um…are you alright?” A gentle voice asked and though you couldn’t see the person’s face you could still make out the tufts of sandy blonde hair. “Do you need help?”

“Yes please, if that wouldn’t be too much of a hassle.” You stumbled, trying to not let anything fall onto the floor.

A pair of hands reached out to grab the boxes in your hands and then you could see your saviour’s face. The most beautiful man stood in front of you. His lips were lifted in a crooked smile that hinted with a sense of laughter, his chocolate brown eyes were something you could simply melt into. His clothes were plain, a simple shirt and jeans but he looked extraordinary. You were momentarily struck dumb by the beauty before you.

Suddenly, you felt self conscious in your ratty T-shirt and shorts that you threw on in the morning because they were the only clothes you had left. You gave him a smile.

“Thank you, I’m just moving in and I’m already lost.” Your cheeks flushed, hearing how idiotic you must have sounded.

The man gave you a reassuring grin. “That’s okay, I’m Remus by the way, what number are you in?”

“Um…it’s 5B2. I’m Y/n.” You would have offered your hand to shake but that didn’t seem possible.

Remus chuckled. “You’re on a completely different floor, I’m the flat above yours.”

You couldn’t help but stare at the way he tipped his head back to laugh, exposing the long expanse of his neck that you would love nothing more than to place kisses all over. You shook your head free of all the naughty thoughts. This guy was trying to help and here you were already dreaming about him.

Though, he really was handsome. Exactly your type.

The both of you got into the elevator and Remus helped you press the button and the both of you waited as the doors began to close.

“So why’d you move?”

“Well, my job’s closer here and I managed to have enough money to get a nicer place. Plus, my old flat was getting a little small and I kinda wanted a change.”

“You picked a nice place then. Everyone here is lovely, pretty sure they’ll come knocking on your door once they find that you’ve moved in.”

“How long have you lived here?” You couldn’t stop the question from leaving your mouth and you cringed but Remus didn’t seem to mind.

“Um…roughly about two years now.” The elevator doors opened and he waited for you to walk out before following you from behind. “I used to room with my friend but then he moved out to live with his girlfriend, now it’s just me and an extra room.”

The small gestures he did made your heart pound and you didn’t want to believe it but you were pretty sure that you were in love. Maybe you were known to fall in love a little too quickly and maybe you had gotten your heart broken because you were a little bit of a hopeless romantic but…you genuinely felt right about this.

You had known the guy for a total of less than ten minutes but it was like an angel had descended from the heavens and granted you a miracle.

“Well, this one’s you.” Remus stood in front of your new flat door. The dull grey stared back at you and normally you would have been put off by the colour but the way Remus stood in front of it had you completely mesmerised. “I’m assuming you’ve got your keys.”

“Yes, yep, definitely.” Your fingers fumbled in your pockets before finally retrieving the keyring. With a nervous laugh, you managed to unlock the door, ushering Remus inside.

“Where would you like the boxes to go?”

“Just somewhere on the floor, I don’t mind.” You replied, your cheeks flushing at the realisation of how disorganised you must seem. “Thank you so much for this. I really appreciate it.”

Remus' smile only grew wider, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you at the sight. "No problem at all. It was lovely to help you." He said, his words like a soothing melody to your ears. "I hope you get settled soon. If you need anything, I'm just a floor above you."

As he bid you farewell with a wave, you stood frozen in place, the echoes of his departing footsteps lingering in the air. It took a moment for the reality of the situation to sink in, but when it did, a surge of determination washed over you.

You would do whatever it took to win over Remus.

“Remus, hey!” You shouted as you saw the familiar tall figure of your neighbour, running closer towards him.

“Y/n?” He squinted as you approached him. “Sorry, I couldn’t see you from so far away, how’ve you been? Settling in properly?”

It had been a couple of days since you first moved in and just like Remus said, people came knocking at your door. Everyone was sweet and kind as they offered you home cooked meals as a welcome gift. You had accepted them all with a gracious smile.

Though the one person you really wanted to see came by quite often, the craving you had for him was insatiable. You would see Remus nearly every day and he would always give you a bright smile and a wave.

There was just something about him that made your whole body fill with butterflies and want to scream in joy.

“It’s been great. I’ve actually been meaning to ask something.”

You bounced on the balls of your toes at the question you were going to ask next. Truth be told, you had an inkling that Remus liked you back, his cheeks would go pink and there were times you could feel his eyes following you.

Yet you were still nervous. All your life you thought yourself a pretty self-confident person. You knew what you wanted and how to get it. So obviously you wanted to ask Remus out but now that you were in that position everything hit you like a truck.

Remus' presence seemed to magnify every little detail—the way his hair fell in charming disarray, the warmth of his smile, the way his eyes sparkled with each shared moment. It was as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

Your palms grew clammy as you grappled with the fear of rejection. What if you had misread the signs? What if Remus didn't feel the same way? The thought sent a shiver down your spine, threatening to derail your carefully laid plans.

That would be beyond embarrassing.

“So what was it that you wanted to ask?”

You took a deep breath. Hey, if all went wrong you could just move back to your old flat and never see him again.

“Well…there’s a really nice park that I go to every weekend, I was wondering if you’d like to come hang out sometime, maybe grab a coffee?”

Remus’ cheeks turned a dark shade of red and his whole body froze. You didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign so you waited, getting more anxious as each silent second passed.

“I-I’d love to.” He finally said and you let out the breath you had been holding.

You flung yourself at him, hugging him tight before releasing him when you realised what you had done. With your cheeks burning bright, you quickly pulled back, a sheepish grin tugging at your lips.

“Sorry!” You blurted out, your voice slightly muffled by your mortification.

Remus's laughter filled the air, his own cheeks tinged with a rosy hue. His chuckle was like music to your ears, easing the tension that had settled between you. “That’s okay.” A playful glint dancing in his eyes as a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “We can do way more than hug.”

His teasing remark sent a fresh wave of heat rushing to your cheeks, rendering you momentarily speechless. Remus’ bottom lip was in between his teeth and you could tell he was holding back a laugh. You cleared your throat.

“I’ll see you around.” You scurried away, trying to hide your blushing face.

“See you around love.” He called making you nearly trip over thin air. The endearment caused your heart to skip a beat and your cheeks to flush even brighter. With one final glance over your shoulder, you caught sight of Remus's amused smirk, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement.

You were really looking forward to your new life here.

#marauders imagine #marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x you #remus x you #marauders fluff #marauders fanfiction #remus fluff #remus lupin fluff #marauders #fluff #remus lupin

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luvrodite · 1 year ago

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OCTOBER 7: YOU FLOWER, YOU FEAST JASON TODD (5.1K)

kinktober prompts: virginity + praise | kinktober masterlist

synopsis. you meet a beautiful stranger and every bit of sense you've accumulated over the years flies out the window. what's the worst that could happen?

cw: f!reader, smut, gentle mdom, praise, virginity loss, virgin!reader, dry humping, cunnilingus, fingering f!receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex minors, blank and ageless blogs dni

technically a part 2 to for you i'd fall from grace (just to touch your face) but can be read as a standalone

The doors open with a quiet ding.

Now it is you on the other side watching him step out, and a beat passes. The world seems to hold its breath.

You take his hand.

It feels like your undoing and rebirth all in one.

Jason’s hotel room is…luxurious. That is the first thing you notice when he leads you in, opening the door with his free hand. He doesn’t let go of you for a moment, fishing the keycard out of his pocket smoothly as his mouth skims over yours. He presses you into the door for a moment, and then you hear two small beeps before you’re being walked backwards.

When he pulls away, he’s backlit by gold and your eyes trail over his shoulder to take in the spacious room you’ve been led into.

Rich, patterned carpet, detailed plaster carvings along the trim and a chandelier – your eyes widen when you spot the bed. Jason huffs out a laugh, breath tickling your ear as you take in the wrinkled sheets, untouched from when you’d interrupted his night to coax him out with you, a cloud of what you’re sure is a thousand thread count bedsheets. It’s fit to house a king.

There’s a mouth against your shoulder, and you look back up to your companion. Jason glitters before you, sparks from the chandelier glass winking at the corners of your vision, robing him in reds, blues and purples. Your heart flutters as he grows closer.

“Hi, pretty thing,” he whispers, pressing his mouth to yours. “You okay?”

His hands are warm against your sides, and you nod into the kiss, a hum caught in his mouth. But your lips tremble against his, and you’ve begun to shake a little in his arms. You mourn the loss when he breaks the kiss, teal eyes narrowing on you.

A hand comes up to cradle your face, a dry warmth that bleeds into you, and your eyes flutter as it tilts your head.

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

But how do you tell him that you are? You’re more sure of this than anything in your life. Every cell in your body, every nerve and vein and beat of your heart all thrum with the same thought, the same desire – this, him. You want him so badly, there’s an ache between your legs and when you shift your weight you can feel the dampness of your underwear, sticky with need.

How do you tell him?

That even in your desire, even in your certainty that you won’t be leaving this room unchanged, there is fear.

You think of girlhood, of closed bedroom windows and lonely nights, of eyeing valentines enviously. You think of bare knees and secret touches beneath bed covers, substituting your fingers for another’s, faceless hands skimming your innermost parts–

You blink at Jason. Jason, who is solid, and real. Who has already unknowingly stolen a first, on his way to take another. Teal smudges in your vision, and you press closer, seeking comfort from the bigger man.

“No one has ever..” you try to say, but your voice wavers, and heat crawls up your neck to settle in your face. A thumb skims across the nape of your neck, and you shiver.

“Will you look at me?”

You linger in the safety of his embrace for a moment longer, before you do as he says, tipping your head to gaze at him. He smiles, pleased, and the sight of it sends a rush of blood to your head.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, rewarding you with a squeeze to your side. “You were saying something. Tell me.”

You blink. Surely he wasn’t going to make you say it? Hadn’t he heard enough? You’d only known him so long, but Jason seemed intelligent enough to connect the dots. But he only stares patiently at you, waiting.

“I..” you lick your lips, throat suddenly dry. “I’ve never done this before.”

The look in his eyes confirms your suspicions – he had only wanted to hear you say it. It’s no less gentle, but his touch tightens around you a little, and you swallow as his pupils, already blown wide, seem to darken even more.

“Done what, baby?” he rasps out, lowering his head to nose at the column of your throat. “Let a stranger take you back to his room?”

You squirm in his arms, hands coming up to clutch the fabric of his shirt, fistfuls of cotton wrinkling under your touch.

“Mmh..no..I mean..yes..but–”

“But what?” he mumbles into your jaw.

“I’ve never – with anyone,” you stutter out, squeezing his shoulders, tucking your face into his collar.

He withdraws then, eyes glossy. “No one?” he asks, voice steady save for the hitch in his breath when you shake your head.

“Is–is that okay?” you ask and his eyes slip shut for a second, forehead falling forward to press against yours. The both of you stand in the living area of his obscenely large hotel room, but all you see is aqua eyes, curtained by thick lashes, staring into yours.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes out a laugh, thumb sliding a path back up to your cheek. “Is that okay with you? I don’t expect anything, we can hang out a little longer, or I can walk you back down to your room–”

“No!” you protest, and his eyes widen. You scrunch your eyes closed, lowering your voice. “No, I…I do want to – y’know.”

He laughs, and you feel the press of his mouth against your cheek, there and gone just as quickly. It’s chaste, and sweet.

“Yeah?” he asks, amused. “You want to…y’know?”

You frown at him, nerves steadily melting away as he grins at you. You’ve known him less than a week but this familiarity feels age old. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Aw,” he snickers, smoothing your pout away with a kiss. “‘M sorry. You’re just cute. I can’t help it.”

You have to squirm away when his fingers pinch your sides teasingly, laughing too loudly for the hour it currently is. He doesn’t seem to care that you might be disturbing the other guests – but you suppose for what he must’ve paid for this room, any sound is unlikely to bleed through the walls. “Stop! Stop!”

He grins at you, ceasing his attack. Eyes softening, he tilts his head, gesturing to the living space you’d overlooked. A chaise longue and expensive looking sofa are arranged neatly, flowers blooming in a vase on the coffee table. You spy a book resting beside it, neatly bookmarked with a slip of paper you recognise to be hotel stationery, the filigree border sticking out from between the pages giving it away.

“C’mere, sweetheart. I wanna kiss you a bit more.”

You kick your heels off, the sparkly shoes you’d spent more money on than you ought to have landing sideways beside his. Your feet sink into the plush carpet below as you pad over to the couch, falling into Jason’s lap with a delighted giggle when he pulls you close. Knees bracketing his hips, your skirt slides up dangerously, but you’re more focused on the slide of his mouth against yours.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Jason breathes into your mouth, and your eyes droop, smiling against him. Big hands settle against the small of your back, and Jason swallows the surprised noise you make when you feel him under you, thick, and hard. “Got me so fuckin’ hard for you, sweetheart. Can you feel that?”

You rock your hips shyly, squirming on his lap, letting out a breath when you feel him bump against your covered clit, pleasure pooling low in your gut.

“Mmh..there you go,” Jason whispers, guiding you along his lap. You whine into his mouth, eyes shutting at the slide of his tongue against yours. It’s slow, and a little messy, the way he kisses you, spit slicked lips sliding against yours, hands rocking you back and forth.

You have no idea what the time is, your phone lying abandoned in the depths of your purse, forgotten in the entryway next to your shoes. Orange light burns through the back of your eyelids, and fatigue renders your limbs heavy against Jason – it’s been a long day and an even longer night, but you aren’t quite ready to give it up yet, too drunk on this new experience to call an end to it.

An open window nearby lets in a stream of air, cool against your flushed skin and some way down the road, a car beeps on the motorway. Jason, beneath you, rolls his hips up into your aching centre and you mewl. He laughs as you break away, panting, lips shiny with spit. You go dizzy at the sight.

“So fuckin’ noisy,” he laughs, leaning back against the couch. He looks sinful, head tipped back to expose his throat, thick thighs spread and hands on your hips. Like he’s at your mercy. Power ripples beneath your fingertips as you touch his neck, skimming over his Adam's apple. Almost as if in a trance, you lower your head to bite at the skin, tongue laving at the mark and relishing in the groan he lets out.

“You sure-” he gasps when you do it once more. “Y’sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Mhm,” you hum, sucking a mark below his ear. You pull away, breath hitching at the sight of the bruise blooming there. His eyes are already on you when you meet his gaze, half-lidded and hungry.

“‘M so fucking lucky, aren’t I?” he rasps, resting a hand on the back of your neck and bringing you down to him. “Nobody else gets you like this, do they.”

You shake your head in affirmation and he grins, a little pleased. And then, his gaze is drifting down to the neck of your dress.

It’s a pretty thing, the both of you know it, daringly lowcut – more than you would have ever braved to wear back home. But here, you are something else entirely, a flower in bloom. There is no one to tell you no, to heed caution. No nosy eyes – the only gazes on you now are heavy with something else. You see the same heaviness in Jason’s eyes as he drinks in the red swathing your figure.

You’d seen it in the store and known – this was it. This would be the one. Every stitch and fold of it had been made in your image, you’d known it from the moment you laid your eyes on it, only confirmed by the reflection in the dressing room mirror.

“Baby,” Jason says suddenly, voice sounding shot, eyes turning pleading and hands trailing back down to fist at your dress. “Can I take this off?”

You find yourself nodding fervently, so eager that any pretense of playing coy slips right out of your head as you lean up and forward, closing your eyes as his fingers pull the zip at your side and pull the material up your figure. It’s unbearably slow, and the drag of the fabric up your skin leaves goosebumps in its trail, your heart hammering in your chest as inch by inch, you are bared to his eyes. When the skirt gathers at your waist, only just covering your panties, Jason groans, eyes tracing your thighs hungrily. He pauses a moment, and you tremble atop him. It’s only a moment – he resumes his path.

Everything is still, and quiet around the both of you. Only your shared breathing, heavy – and, you imagine, wrapping around the other, invisible. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, and you curl your fingers into fists where they rest on your thighs.

“Up, baby,” Jason murmurs, and you raise your arms, shuddering as the dress is lifted totally. It hits the ground behind you with a quiet flutter, and you’re left atop Jason’s lap in only the pretty panties you’d slipped on before dinner.

Before dinner, when you’d flounced around your hotel room, running back and forth across the wardrobe and your suitcase and your vanity, silk robe slipping down your shoulders, giggling with your best friend. You’d slipped on the scrap of material after your shower, shrieking when she’d voiced the thought you’d quietly entertained – who exactly are you putting those on for?

Their intended subject breathes out a sigh when his eyes land on them, a groan caught in his throat. The hardness pressed against your thigh is an attestation to just how much he likes it.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” Jason tips forward to press his forehead to your shoulder, and your breath hitches when the movement causes his nose to brush against your bare skin, lips so close to your breast you can feel his breath. “Been wanting to do that from the moment you showed up at my door.”

“Yeah?” you breathe out shyly, face warming. His resounding “Mhm.” vibrates against your shoulder.

“Y’showed up looking like sin, princess,” he mumbles, a sloppy kiss pressed to your skin. And then another, and another. He moves slowly, with precision, and you’re burning for him. “Thought about just locking the door and ripping that damn dress off you – ‘m surprised you didn’t notice how hard I got.”

Your eyes flicker down but his broad shoulders obscure your view, curling over you, leaving wet kisses over every bit of skin he can reach.

“Mmh, baby y’gotta talk to me,” Jason sighs, pulling away and you almost keen at the loss, chasing after him when he sinks back into the couch cushions, hands steadying you as you tip forward. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” you whisper, nose to nose.

Up close, he is even more beautiful, golden and freckled from the summer sun. His eyelashes are thick, fluttering with every blink. He watches you, and you are reminded of a big cat, lazy eyes fixed on its prey, slow, smouldering blinks as he stares at you.

“You want me to take care of you?” he breathes out, and you nod. He shakes his head. “Gotta hear you say it out loud, sweetheart. You can do that for me can’t you?”

His voice drops into a coo, encouraging in all the ways to make your head dizzy, every thought turning syrupy thick when he bumps his nose against yours, coaxing.

“Say it for me, baby,” he murmurs into your mouth, capturing your bottom lip between his. You feel the barest drag of his teeth and you whimper – he catches that too. “Aw, c’mon pretty. I’ve barely done anything, yet. There’ll be time for that later. Y’just gotta tell me.”

“Jason, I-” you gasp out, when he rocks his hips up into you. “Please? Please…”

“Please what?”

If they could only see you now. Shame and desire race through your veins, circling each other in a vicious stand-off. Will you give in? Will you see it through? You’ve come this far. Ruination is only a murmur away.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, and his eyes gleam.

Jason hauls you up from the couch in one swift movement that leaves you grappling for his shoulders, but his hold is firm – you’re in no danger of falling, unless he intends it. Mouth on yours, he crosses the living space and you enter the bedroom, the mammoth of a bed coming closer into view. You only register it in your periphery, much too preoccupied with the brush of Jason’s tongue against yours, yet another new, dizzying sensation that clouds your senses.

And then you’re falling back, landing amongst the sheets of his bed. Jason hovers above you – still clothed. You quirk a brow expectantly at him and he pauses. He follows your gaze, and snickers when he realises.

“I guess I’m being pretty unfair, huh,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. “I’ve got you all pretty and bare for me and I’m still dressed. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Jason is, impossibly, even more attractive under his clothes. He shucks the jacket and top, and your throat dries at the sight of him, all soft muscle and broadness. Every inch of him has been carved with a careful hand, and you drag your gaze downwards as he tugs his sweats off, left in only a pair of black boxer briefs. Powerful thighs flex as he steps out of his clothing, and you have to bite back the urge to learn forward and press your mouth to him, to sink your teeth into the muscle of his chest.

“Hope that’s a good silence,” he remarks, kicking his sweats away and you snap your eyes back up to him, a nervous laugh bubbling from your lips.

“It is,” you assure. Bravely, you reach out to take his hand, and his eyes soften a little when you do. “You’re…no one should look like that.”

Pink dusts the top of his cheeks and he laughs. “I’m glad you think so.” He shakes his head then, and draws closer. “Tonight’s about you, though, princess. Can you lay back for me?”

“Like this?” you ask, unsure, settling yourself against his pillows, legs bent together. He smiles, kneeling at the foot of the bed.

“Not quite,” he says, a warm hand coming to cup your calf. “This okay? If you wanna stop, just let me know. Pinch me, or something. Promise I’ll stop.”

You nod, and nod once more, and he drops a kiss to the inside of your knee as he maneuvers your legs so they’re spread, allowing him to draw closer. All that stands between his gaze and your most sensitive parts is a scrap of fabric, and you see his eyelids droop as he settles on his stomach, breath skimming your inner thigh.

“You’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” he asks, tilting his head, expectant. His voice is gentle, coaxing, and you find yourself nodding, eager to please him. He smiles, and it’s like starlight, reddened mouth curving up to reveal pearly whites.

“Yeah,” he sighs, pleased. Fingers trail up your legs, pushing them further apart with a firmness that is equally as gentle. “Knew you would. My girl knows how to listen t’me. So sweet for me. ‘M gonna kiss you now, ‘kay, sweetheart?”

You’re tipping your chin and then your panties are being hooked to the side and there’s a mouth on you, warm, and wet, tongue curling against your clit in a movement that draws a gasp right out of you, squirming against the sheets, both chasing and drawing away from the unfamiliar sensation. Jason laughs at the sound, only pressing closer to you with an arm hooking across your hips to keep you still.

Your vision swims, and you press your head back into the pillows, the canopy above you blurring under every artful lash and lick of Jason’s tongue. Your hands fist the sheets when he closes his lips around your clit, sucking gently – desire burns in your gut and explodes behind your eyes with his movements, your hips lurching off the mattress only to meet the steel resistance of his arm.

“Jason,” you cry, only growing warmer when he snakes his free hand up your torso to pinch your nipple, squeezing your breasts as he works his mouth.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just-” he cuts himself off, spitting onto your folds – only adding to the mess you’re sure you’ve made. You shudder and he laughs against your skin. “Mmh, just like that, just like that…”

Your hand finds its way into his hair, fingers sinking into thick black locks and tugging before you can register the impulse. You draw away, a babbled apology on your tongue but he only catches your wrist as it raises and pushes it back with a husky laugh.

“Touch me all you want,” he says, kissing your thigh. “Want you to feel good, angel.”

“It does,” you pant, too caught up to find any embarrassment in the needy pitch of your voice, too eager to get his mouth back on you. He grins, knowingly, and raises his hand, reaching to press his fingers against your lips.

“Get my fingers wet f’me, baby,” he says.

It feels debauched, the way you let him part your lips and sink his fingers in your mouth, pressing heavy on your tongue. Drool collects, and you flick your tongue against his thick digits, sucking. His eyes shutter, and you find yourself pleased to have turned the tables, even if only momentarily. He retracts his fingers soon, and you follow the string of spit with your eyes, flinching when it snaps, smearing against your chin.

“That’s my girl,” he exhales. “‘M gonna stretch you out, okay? Tell me if it’s too much.”

“Okay,” you murmur, resting a hand across the arm on your hips. He pushes himself up onto his haunches, and then there’s a finger pressing at your entrance. It’s a foreign feeling – Jason’s fingers are much thicker than your own, and you tense up at the intrusion, but he notices.

“Take a breath for me,” he tells you firmly, other hand stroking your skin comfortingly. “It’ll be more uncomfortable if you’re tense like that. There you go, take another for me, good girl.”

He leans up to kiss you, and you clutch his shoulders tightly when his thumb circles your clit in gentle circles, finger steadily pressing into you. You breathe through it, feeling small under his frame, but grateful for the cover. Jason whispers praise into your skin as you take him slowly, and you tip your head back as slowly, your body adjusts to the stretch.

“So good for me,” he tells you, and your eyes burn, tears crowding your lashline at the rush of emotions – it’s so much, all at once. You can’t quite make sense of things anymore, entirely consumed by the feeling of him, over, around, inside.

And still, when he deems you properly prepped, you feel you’ve entered an entirely new ballpark when he slides your panties off and removes his underwear, cock springing up and slapping against his stomach.

It isn’t as though you’ve never seen one before. The internet, and sex ed classes had at least given you some idea about what to expect, but –

Jason is big. Even inexperienced, you know this. Your mouth dries the longer you stare at it, so thick you wonder how he’s going to fit it inside you – can he? Trepidation settles in your lower gut, but with it, something else. You sit up on shaky arms, and curiosity spurs you on to reach for him, tucking your legs beneath you as you shuffle closer.

He lets you touch him, teal eyes watching in silence as your hand brushes along his hip, dipping down to press against his thigh. Skirting around where you really want to touch. When he exhales above you, you look up to find him softly smiling, amusement in the curve of his mouth.

“I don’t bite,” he says softly, fingers coming to wrap around your wrist gently, guiding your touch to his cock. The both of you shudder when you make contact, wrapping around his length experimentally. The weight of him in your hands makes your heart thrum, and you don’t realise you’ve drawn closer until he’s pulling you away just as your lips hover over the head of him.

You look up questioningly, and he gives you a reassuring grin, caressing your cheek. “Later, sweetheart. I wanna make you feel good.”

“Promise?” you murmur and he nods, looping his pinky around yours.

And then you’re being pressed back down into the sheets, a mouth on yours and Jason’s tongue licking at the seam of your lips. And you know you ought to be a little more responsible, when he presses on your bare heat, precum smearing at your entrance, but there’s a rush in the thought of having him wholly – of letting go of responsibility for just one night.

You’ve been good all your life, you figure you’re allowed one moment of recklessness.

He’s prepped you well, but the first press of his head inside still makes you gasp, stomach tightening as he enters you. He swallows the sound in his mouth, humming assuringly against your lips.

“Mmh, you’re doin’ so good for me,” he mumbles, sloppily kissing your jaw, and you throw your arms around his neck, tucking your face into his shoulder. “Breathe, breathe, princess.”

Inch by inch, he pushes until you’ve taken the entire length of him, settling there for you to adjust. You can feel it in your throat, every bit of skin and heat making your blood simmer, your eyes rolling slightly at the stretch.

“You okay?”

Jason brushes a few fingers across the back of your neck, and the touch is grounding, drawing your attention back to him. You nod, and he lets out a little laugh.

“So sweet for me,” he mutters, dropping a kiss to your head. You exhale against his collar, returning it to the spot above his heart, lips smudging against his chest and leaving a streak of colour where your lipstick rubs off. You grin privately, repeating the motion. The hand at your hip squeezes affectionately, and he speaks again. “Gonna start moving now, okay?”

“Mhm.” It’s a needy sound – not the first one he’s pulled out of you tonight, and when he rolls his hips, thumb catching at your clit, you wager it won’t be the last.

You lose all ability to think within minutes. Jason is attentive, and every touch lights you on fire, leaves you feeling scraped raw, every nerve sensitive to him. Everything feels amplified as he thrusts, making ample of use of his mouth and fingers in time with his movements. You’re clutching him, clutching the sheets, legs shaking around his waist.

The hotel room is filled with the sounds of your pleasure, Jason drawing moan after moan, whimpers and desperate moans from your lips – absently, you wonder, is that you, making all that noise? It seems utterly discomposed, something too filthy for the otherwise pristine room you’re in. But Jason is uncaring and if anything, it only spurs him on, gripping you tighter.

“Fuck,” he hisses, biting at your shoulder and you whine, nails biting into the meat of his shoulder. “That’s it, princess, you sound so fucking pretty.”

Sweat gathers in the dip of your brow, lines your skin and his as his hips cant into yours. His head dips down to catch a nipple in his mouth, teeth grazing the your sensitive bud. You choke on a gasp, throwing your head back into the pillows. He grins, letting go with a wet pop.

“Jason.” you sob out and he coos.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he says, leaning down so you’re nose to nose. You gaze at him through half-lidded eyes, unable to keep them open. “‘M I making you feel good? This what you expected?”

“F-feels so good,” you cry, the tears that have been gathering finally slipping free, streaking down your face as he rocks into you. His teeth gleam in the low light, victory in the stretch of his lips – the light haloes around him and he looks divine, bronzed and eclipsing your entire body with his.

He thrusts faster, a little harder, and you clutch his arm suddenly, feeling the pleasure rising in to a crescendo in your stomach. His name falls off your lips, coloured in desperation and tears, and you buck your hips up in an effort to match his.

“You close, sweetheart?” he pants and you keen.

“Uh-huh,” you mewl, voice pitching as you draw him down into a messy kiss, a meeting of teeth and tongue that leaves you dizzy.

“Fuck, princess, that’s it,” he groans, a hand coming around your lower back to lift you closer. The other circles your clit faster, and you cry out. “That’s it, come for me. Just let go for me, I know you can do it. You’re such a good girl, been so good for me, you deserve to come, don’t you? C’mon sweetheart, just like that.”

You break with a squeal, coming apart around his cock. It’s intense, the wave that crashes over you and swims through your body, reaching every nerve ending and muscle. And he doesn’t stop, fucking you through it with steady thrusts that don’t relent. You’re pushing at his stomach, fingers desperately clawing at him. It’s dizzying, and you clench down harder, drawing a groan from him.

“Shit, baby,” he gasps, forehead dropping to yours. “Sweetest fucking pussy, ‘m so fucking close.”

You can only tilt your head up to capture his mouth, biting down on his bottom lip. He pulls away swearing, sweat lining his brow.

“Gonna come,” he chokes out, forehead creasing as his eyes squeeze shut. You squeeze down around him once again, and he moans.

“Come for me,” you breathe out, and he shakes his head, looking pained. His lips turn down into a pout, and though you’ve little energy in your body, you want nothing more than to sink your teeth into it. You fear that by doing this, he’s woken something in you now – there is no coming back from the monster he’s made of you, the insatiable hunger he’s called on.

“Don’t say that, baby,” he barely manages to grit out. “I can’t, I-”

He pulls himself out suddenly, fisting his cock over your body. You realise just how close he was when in a few quick strokes, he comes over your stomach, shooting onto your skin with a strangled noise.

“Fuck!”

Silence falls over the room, save for your heavy breaths. You sink back into the pillows, spent and Jason lowers himself beside you, reaching out to pull you close. You tuck yourself into his side, and the muffled sound of his heartbeat reaches you from beneath your cheek.

“How you feeling, sweetheart?” A hand settles on the dip of your back, thumb skimming across the expanse sweetly. “Talk t’me.”

“Good,” you slur out, eyes slipping closed. Your own pulse steadily throbs in your ears and you can feel the fatigue settling in your muscles, sapped of your strength. “So tired.”

“Yeah?” he questions, affection colouring his voice. You hum, nosing at him as though you could burrow closer.

“Rest a bit. I’ll get up in a moment, run you a bath,” he promises you, voice rough. “Gotta get you cleaned up.”

“You’ll come with?” you ask quietly, and he sighs, amused. He rubs your back.

“Yeah, princess, I’ll come with.”

With that, you close your eyes, letting the sounds of the city bleed in through the window. Jason’s heart beats steadily beneath you, fingers tracing up your bare spine, and you succumb to sleep.

everybody say thank you ro you're the best ro you wrote the best first proper smut fic ever ro. jk but this was so hard to get through i would like to thank miss lana del rey herself, my smut writing playlist and the guide to writing smut by @/mevima because they were my lifelines. and also my bestest friend in the world for reading over this for me despite not knowing a single thing about dc beyond the barest minimum she is my angel and guiding star everybody give her a round of applause.

i considered quitting kinktober so many times writing this you have no idea. tell your favourite smut authors you love them because genuinely...after kinktober i'm going back to fluff /lh. also please don't expect this length for every kinktober piece hahaha this fic is just it's own creation and would not let me write anything less than 5k. we'll be returning to our regular programming soon.

#mdni banner by benkeibear #mangacap by shoujo-dreamland #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #x reader #jasonsmirrorball #kinktober 2023 #ro's kinktober '23 #jay my heart

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kingofbodyrolls · 1 year ago

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BTS fic recs: November 2023

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell, so minors dni.❗

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post to let them know that they’re appreciated 💜 And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | 💜 (*) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, personal favorites = 💯.

Namjoon

⭐Friend or Fuck by @joonsmagicshop [8K] // knj x f.reader // f2l // 🥵

📝 A drunken night leads to a good morning.

🗨️ I really liked this 🥺 Namjoon was just so sweet, caring and gentle with OC. Really loved it 👏🏾 but why, oh why did Jungkook have to cockblock them 😂 I wanted the smut alright! The build up was so good, I was slightly frustrated with the ending 🙈 yes I’m a slut for smut okay 🙈 I’m hoping for a part two ✌🏾🙏🏾💜

⭐Emotions of the Soul 💯by @oddinary4bts [36.6K] // knj x f.reader // idol!au, childhood/teenage lovers to s2l2l // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 When Namjoon reappears in your life after thirteen years of absence, you find yourself unsure of what he means to you, and of what you mean to him. Anxiety reigns over you, but will it be enough to drag you away from Kim Namjoon?

🗨️ This is another masterpiece from Ella! She is incredible at writing idol!au’s that just feels so goddamn natural and real 👏 The way Namjoon is written is just perfection and OC with her struggles, and they are goddamn human, yes – and that’s one of the beautiful parts in it!!! 😭I also reminded me of my own teenage breakup (gosh I was stupid back then, but not because of the breakup lol 😂). Anyway, please go and read it! As with everything Ella write, this is another to add to my favorites 💜

Seokjin

Nothing this month 😞

Yoongi

⭐Workaholic 💯by @hobiwonder [10K] // myg x f.reader // “‘strangers” to lovers (I don’t want to spoil!) // 🥵😂🥰

📝 Yoongi needs to relax and Hoseok has many tricks up his sleeve to make him. None of them Yoongi thought included hiring a hooker to pay him a visit one stormy night.

🗨️ Wow okay, this was so freaking great! Like, what??? Incredible! A masterpiece! I really really loved it 🥺 everything was so fucking good, their chemistry, the tense build up ugh, so fucking good! 💯 ✨

⭐Little bit of your Heart by @yoongiofmine [wordcount loading…] // myg x f.reader, jjk x f.reader // exes!au, fwb!au // 🥵

📝 You had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with Min Yoongi. You knew you and Yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything Yoongi couldn’t. Will Jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten Yoongi enough to do something about it?

🗨️ Yes here we go a new series from Ella! ✨ Yoongi already seems so done with Jungkook and they have barely spoken 😂 looking forward to how that develops 🤭

⭐What the Moon Saw + Stolen Tides 💯by @violetsiren90 // myg x f.reader // non-idol!au, f2l // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 In the words of the great Stevie Nicks, "Time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I'm getting older too."

🗨️ This is just so fucking beautiful. Everything. About. It. Period. 😭 It is emotional, it is young love, and it is tender and loving - like, Yoongi is just so sweet. Their timing sucks, but thankfully Violet wrote a beautiful drabble to give the couple a lovely ending! 💜 Truly, please go read it, it is so good I was crying and felt so good after, it’s sweet – OKAY I’M SOFT I know.

Hoseok

⭐Flight 18 💯by @noona-la-la-la [9.5K] // jhs x f. reader // flight!au, idol!au // 🥵😂

📝 Korean Air Flight 18 leaves daily from Los Angeles traveling to Seoul. You’ve taken this flight before, but this time you’ve got an irritating passenger in the neighboring seat. Little did you know that he would end up giving you the ride of your life.

🗨️ This was just really really amazing; utterly funny (like I was laughing at certain points), so much sexual tension that evolves into satisfying smut 😗

Jimin

⭐The Airport Couple: P[ass]anger from Hell + Drabble 💯by @dovechim & @jimlingss [8K] // pjm x f.reader // e2l, frequent traveler jimin x tsa agent reader // 😂😂😂🥰

📝 As a TSA agent, you expect your job to be relatively easy, most passengers these days follow the rules to the T in order to avoid prolonging their custom checks. But not a certain Park Jimin, who seems to have a problem understanding what 100ml is, or the very simple fact that gadgets must be taken out of the bag, and bomb jokes are strictly off limits. Frequent traveller Park Jimin is your nemesis, but darn is he a cute one.

🗨️ This is just so fucking hilarious, don’t get me started. I laughed from beginning to end 😂 And it’s still as good as I remember, if not even better??? Like ✨ I’ve highlighted a few of my favorite parts from the fic. I don’t want to give too much away, but these lines are just so damn hilarious! Please go read it, it’s one of my faves 💯

⭐The Airport Couple: Park Jimin’s Cock[pit] 💯by @jimlingss & @dovechim [12K] // pjm x f.reader // pilot!au, bf2l, coworkers!au // 😂🥰🥵

📝 Talk about Angry Birds, and most people would immediately think of the mobile game app. But within your circle of friends, it stands for something else. It’s synonymous with Park Jimin, one of the most talented pilots from your batch who also just happens to have anger issues, or in other words, air rage. He is your best friend, but when you get teamed up with him as his co-pilot, you can only pray that things don’t go south… literally.

🗨️ I remember reading this a few years ago, and I loved it then and I still do ✨ It is incredibly funny, has good banter and dialogue to match. The chemistry between reader and Jimin is just priceless, their friendship is just pure giggles 🥹 It’s also fluffy and will tug on your heartstrings in the best way possible. Just really, really good and definitely also one of my all-time favorites 💯💜

⭐Flowers & Sex by @7deadlysinsfics [4.5K] // pjm x f.reader // fwb, f2l au, pwp // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 You’re in need of a warm body and a good fuck. who better than your friend park jimin?

🗨️ Just really cute 🥺 Hoseok (readers ex in this) is a douche though, like why did she have to go back to him ugh 🥴 but I like how the story developed and reader realized her feelings after she took her ex back. Loved Jimin and how he gave her flowers 💐 he was so fucking cute 🥺🌸

⭐Heaven with You by @acc3ssdenied [4.7K] // pjm x f.reader // friends to ??? // 🥵

📝 All good things happen after 2 am - at least, that was what you believed. Whoever thought it was a good idea for a group of twelve young adults to play drunk truth or dare obviously agreed with you.

🗨️ Oh this was some filthy smut 🥵 And that kiss with Taehyung was downright slutty – a really good pwp 🥵

⭐Have some Respect by @chim-chimmie [4.2K] // pjm x f.reader // school/college!au, teacher!jimin // 🥵

📝 Your teacher Park Jimin has had enough of you disrespecting him, so he taught you a little lesson.

🗨️ Okay, okay, I know the teacher x student dynamic is a touchy subject, and not always well executed, but hear me out, alright. This was so freaking sinful, like my soul needs to take a shower now??? 🥵

⭐Rush by @bangtanfanfiction [4K] // pjm x f.reader // idol!jimin // 🥵🥰

📝 After not seeing your boyfriend for several weeks, his latest performance definitely made something in you snap. And at a award show of all things.

🗨️ A good pwp with smut that is 🔥

⭐How Long? by @jiminniethemarshmallow [4K] // pjm x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰

📝 No summary!

🗨️ I also remember reading this a few years ago and it’s still so fucking hot and filthy 🥵

⭐Turbulence by @yminie [9.3K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰

📝 On your first flight the cute boy next to you helps to sooth your nerves, and on the second flight he soothes something else.

🗨️ Gosh, I remember reading this a few years back and I’ve actually read it multiple times, it’s just so incredible 👏🏾 the smut is freaking hot, and Jimin is just 🤯 well, he’s being a sweet fluffball, but then a smexy God 🥵 like wtf! The duality is insane! One of my favorites and I’m looking forward to rereading part two ✨💜

⭐Accelerate by @yminie [8.9K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰

📝 Jimin comes to retrieve his jacket on the condition that you then accompany him for dinner, and you can bet he satiates every hunger.

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

Taehyung

Nothing this month 😞

Jungkook

⭐Love à Trois [series; ongoing] by @letjungcoook7 [13.1K] // jjk x f.reader x pjm // slice of life, f2l+s2l, roommates!au, college!au, love triangle // 🥵🌩️

📝 You and Jimin secretly have feelings for each other, you both realize your dream of studying at the same college and sharing an apartment, but when financial issues start to arise, you have to seek a third roommate. and guess who fate sends your way? Jungkook, the same guy who took your virginity back in high school.

🗨️ This is really good! There’s two chapters up so far and they are really good! It’s so interesting to see the love triangle unfold. Really enjoyed this 🌸 It’s just getting better and better ✨ I really loved the backstory of how both Jimin and OC realized they had feelings for each other 🥺 so good and really looking forward to the next chapter 😍

⭐Sweet Obsession by @letjungcoook7 [2.5K] // jjk x f.reader // established relationship, plussize!reader // 🥵🥰

📝 When a coworker starts to show interest in you, your boyfriend becomes jealous.

🗨️ Whaaaaaaaat 🥹This was so incredibly sweet and tender! As a plus-sized curvy girl, this was such a good and lovely read 💖 Another banger from Lua💜

⭐The Wedding Planners 💯by @gukyi [28K] // jjk x f.reader // e2l, wedding!au // 😂🥰🌩️🥵

📝 Jeon jungkook is three things: cocky, terrible, and your worst enemy. then your best friend hoseok gets engaged to the love of his life, and suddenly jeon jungkook is four things: cocky, terrible, your worst enemy, and the man you will be spending the next seven months with in order to plan your best friend’s wedding.

🗨️ I also remember reading this a few years ago and it was just a very funny and pleasant reread 💜 What I love about this is one, is definitely the slow-burn and the enemies to lovers aspect too. The banter between reader and Jungkook is just so priceless and reading how their relationship slowly unfolds and develops through the months of the wedding planning was just everything 💯 Hoseok and Yoongi’s personality in this also makes this fic truly amazing.

⭐Fragment of the Past (1)(2)(3) [series; completed] 💯by @ctrlsht [28.1K] // jjk x f.reader // patient!jk x psychiatrist!reader // 🌩️😈👻🥵

📝 You are a well-known and respected psychiatrist and author. You start treating Jungkook, who suffers from PTSD after surviving an extremely traumatic incident. As you help him confront his traumatic past, he begins to act strangely, and you start uncovering something about him that will change everything.

🗨️ Another first for me, with the thriller vibes and damn it delivers on that! It’s really, really good 👏 Pacing is really good and how we see more and more of Jungkook’s disturbing traits is just brilliant ✨If you want my full review of it, you can find it here (it does contain spoilers though!). And I really think you shouldn’t spoil it! Just go read it if you’re into the darker stuff, because my heart was racing so damn fast! This is the best thriller yandere au I’ve read to date 💜

⭐Lost on You by @letjungcoook7 [2.1K] // jjk x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵

📝 You're just so obsessed with your boyfriend. you would do anything for him.

🗨️ Ehm excuse me Lua, mirror sex???? 🥵 Fucking hell that was a hot one, like I almost feel like I need to take a shower 😂 another banger from you! And the dirty talking too, aish 🥵 💖

OMG November has truly been an exceptional month! There was my 30th birthday of course, and then I received so my love for my series ‘friendcation’ that I was crying with all the beautiful words and reviews I got 😭 I am so thankful for every one of you, whether you interact with my fic recs or my own – thank you! 💜

Borahae 💜

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