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thesilmarillionblog · 3 months ago

Text

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 20

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI), smut!, Soldier Boy having ejaculation problem, language, disagreements

Word Count: 6343

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

You kept Ben and others in the dark about the fact that you weren't healing like a supe as the days went by in peace and quiet. You weren't sure why precisely, but you decided that it would be best to wait to discuss the situation in detail with the doctor or learn what had happened from Mindstorm.

Except for the moments you were with Ben, you'd always wished you weren't a supe and could simply live like a regular person in the past. When you two were together, you were cool with being a Supe. You handled his strength whenever he touched you, battled by his side when he needed you, and didn't really care what you were as long as you didn't age like him.

But inevitably things were different. You have to remain a supe in order to defend yourself from everything and everyone. You were aware of it. That's what you wanted. If you weren't a super, you really didn't know how to live a normal life. You couldn't even recall the last time you experienced physical weakness. Neither were you accustomed to seeing bruises on your skin. You sighed with annoyance as your thoughts raced at the possibility of you stopping becoming a Supe at any moment. What happens if your body suddenly loses all of its strength? Even though you still had your powers, you still needed to exercise caution.

In fact, you weren't sure whether that was simply an excuse about that you needed to be a supe. Perhaps all you wanted was to stay alive. You had no idea what your own heart was actually craving. You didn't want to find out, though.

Butcher had informed Ben and you earlier in the morning that he had located the doctor in charge of Supe Studies for Vought. Ben had given you a strange look, as if he had sensed something, since your heart was beating so quickly. You needed to be prepared for whatever was ahead. It was something you had to embrace.

“Tonight, we're going to the doctor. It is not very helpful that he is residing at Vought Tower. Although he is well protected, we can still cope with it while we have the strongest supes, right?” With a cunning grin, Butcher said, emphasizing the phrase ‘most powerful’ as though he intended to hurt you.

You remained silent. You could still tear him in two without even trying your hardest. Of course you wouldn't. Butcher and how to beat him till he bled were among the numerous improper thoughts that sprung from your wounded pride. Ben would undoubtedly die from intense pleasure if he could see your thoughts.

“Homelander will be there,” you said, tracing your fingers over the table and the page you were doodling on in front of you. Ben was deep in thought as he sat next to you, examining the bizarre things you were sketching randomly.

“Yeah,” Butcher said unsurely. “Unless his attention is drawn on something different.”

Cutting off Butcher's ambiguous remarks, “What do you mean?” Ben asked. It was evident that he was impatient.

You knew Butcher was ready to come up with something risky since he was staring at both of you and Ben. His expressions were now easily interpreted.

“If you use your nuclear chest and explode somewhere, he will come to you. Since everyone will be concentrating on you, Annie and Y/N will be able to sneak into the cave, speak with the doctor, and also obtain more Temp-V.”

“You seem that you thought about this too much,” Ben interrupted; his tone remained cautious, and he showed little interest in Butcher's bold proposal. It was sufficient, in your opinion, nevertheless.

Ben and you both gave Butcher a startled look. You were now curious about his real intentions. Ben's tensing up was palpable as soon as he learned about the member of the team who had betrayed him. It was impossible to ignore the heat radiating from Ben's chest. You watched him abruptly get up and go toward Butcher in a way that was almost menacing, but you did nothing to soothe him.

With perplexity, you glanced at Ben. It was risky for the two of you, but you had agreed to take the chance and trust that Butcher would be able to divert Homelander's focus. You had to know the truth. You got frustrated with Ben's attitude now, remembering how he promised you weeks earlier. You could always count on him to let you down. What's happened is that it stopped being surprising.

“How about if I say that I found Mindstorm?”

Ben questioned, “When?”

“Why do you care? But he's concealing rather well, I have to admit. He must be scared as fuck since you appeared,” Butcher said, but Ben did not care about this fact. All people who betrayed him better be scared.

Ben said, “Fine,” in a controlled tone that surprised you and Butcher alike. You weren't prepared for him to give up so quickly. “Y/N is not going to Vought Tower, which means I'm not going to blow up anywhere." She will accompany me to Mindstorm. We don't need the doctor.”

“What?” you said, puzzled. He would never gladly embrace Butcher's idea, of course. Watching Ben was determined to go after his own plan, not giving a damn about your thoughts nor contemplating, you shot him a furious glare. “You are not in a position to determine this. It's all about me.”

“I know,” Ben strongly stated. He turned to face you and froze for a second when he noticed how you were staring at him. “But it's too risky for you. This is not what we're doing. Discussion is over.”

You firmly responded, “No,” and furiously dropped the pencil on the table. “We are exactly doing this.”

Butcher sighed with irritation as he observed that you and Ben were prepared for another argument, and he considered his next move. “How about me and Y/N go after Mindstorm and Soldier Boy meeting the doctor himself?” he finally suggested.

Neither Ben nor you said anything, but Butcher's suggestion didn't seem right. Ben was clearly considering his options attentively while you watched him. You couldn't tell what his real intentions were or whether he truly intended to keep his word. You were discouraged.

Ben firmly stated, “She's not going to Vought Tower without me.” He was determined not to do anything Butcher asked of him and willing to listen to you neither.

“If you think you can kill Homelander and the others there in a very short moment, why not?” Butcher provoked him.

You stated serenely, hoping Ben would understand. “If something goes wrong, I'll be blamed by the public and Vought once more.” You thought he would understand that you were not interested in joining him in his war. All you needed were answers. “You're not going to come with me, and you'll bring Mindstorm. You said you would help me, Ben.”

Ben stared at you for a long time, confused by your cool, composed statements. You knew it was difficult for him to accept the obvious, yet you wanted him to think carefully and not ruin this.

When he turned back to face you, you were startled watching him think about every possibility. After all, he didn't enjoy following instructions since, in his mind, he was a strong, alpha leader. He was clearly making an effort to maintain his composure in the face of your provocative tone, and you have to agree, it was entertaining to see him struggle.

Ben didn't want to give in and accept Butcher's foolish and dangerous idea, but he was becoming powerless as he saw you almost beg him with your eyes to keep his word. Ben had no idea as to why you would be willing to pay a visit to Vought Tower without taking into account the events that had occurred decades prior. It seems like yesterday when you were deceived and put in a box. Given your physical conditions lately, he might sense your anxiety even at that distance. He would never let someone hurt you ever again. No fucking way.

Ben added, “And you know I'll keep my promise,” not wanting to say anything more or let you go there by yourself. “But not in that way.”

You sat in your chair and waited for Ben as he approached you. It took you a whole minute to blink before he walked your side. Ben's desire to touch you was overwhelming him, driving him insane and causing him to think filthy stuff, but all he managed to do was touch your chin to get your attention. “Together, we will go to Vought Tower. We can catch Mindstorm another day.”

“I think he's always on the move.” Ben's hands slipped to your chair and caressed your hair from the back when Butcher interrupted. You found it amusing that he had been playing with your hair when his voice abruptly became harsh. Ben had a strange way of being both gentle and tough at the same time.

“How do I know that you're not trying to separate us or trick her?” Ben exclaimed. His explanation of the situation was significantly different from yours. You wouldn't deny that you were grateful that he was careful for you this time and didn't trust Butcher or anyone else.

Ben continued, “I would kill you,” even before Butcher spoke a word. You could tell he despised everything because of the way he spat out the words. You knew that he would murder Butcher.

Your heart flooded with relief, and you forced yourself to keep yourself from soothing him—his body temperature was changing minute by minute—in an attempt to provide him some peace. It was another problem that needed to be resolved quickly. You made a self-promise to support Ben in this matter as well, not knowing if he would suddenly explode again. Of course, it was after you discovered the truth about yourself.

“Look, I'm offering you an opportunity to talk to Mindstorm and her to see the doctor, but you are accusing me of something I never ever considered once. Aren't you an ungrateful baby boy?” Butcher remarked, making Ben even more tense.

“Yet,” Ben went on. “I won't allow her to go to the Tower. Fuck Mindstorm. If he attempts to flee again, you'll locate him.”

You firmly said, “Stop it, Ben,” as you stood up and moved away from his gaze. He didn't say anything about that. He needed to keep the promise that he had made. This was something he owed you. You took a long look around the room and considered all of the options and risks. “I'll go to Vought Tower with Annie and Kimiko, and you'll blow somewhere up and then bring Mindstorm.”

“Don't give me orders, sweetie,” he eventually muttered. His look had somewhat changed, and he made an effort to seem as gentle as possible, but it was obvious he was struggling to hold his shit together. Good. “We'll do it in my way.”

You sighed, “Your ways hurt me enough,” interrupting him before he could say anything more. You had to find a way to stop him arguing, not because you wanted to bring up past events while you were discussing the plan.

Ben stiffened at what you said, unsure of how to protest anymore, even though he knew that was what you wanted and that it would be difficult to change your mind given how anxious you were about learning the truth about your condition. Even though Ben didn't want to do it at all, he did his best to remain composed and gave you a nod before you left without saying anything more and went upstairs, leaving him alone there with Butcher.

Butcher was filled with joy as he watched Ben battle to avoid exploding the whole house. His jaw clenched while his heart filled with regret and watched you leave the room without even looking back. You possessed a unique kind of power over him, which he didn't even complain about anymore.

“She knows how to shut your mouth, huh?” Butcher made a quick remark to irritate Ben even more. It would be preferable to toy with Soldier Boy's fury going forward if the idea wouldn't make him blow up anytime and get him killed.

“Your blowjob-addicted mouth is going to be your undone one day,” Ben said. He waited and pondered you and everything for a while after taking a sip from the half-filled bottle of wine. If something went wrong, he would murder anyone. He wouldn't blink.

“Okay,” Butcher said, not wanting to die today at the very least. “I'm going to pick Kimiko and Frenchie up. You two be prepared in thirty minutes.”

You were almost finished putting on your supe suit when Ben pushed open the door and entered. When you sensed Ben's pulse pounding with passion and excitement, you couldn't help but feel the same way.

Ben pushed the door open and entered just as you were about to finish donning your super suit. His lips parted with astonishment as his lips curled with a smile. You were tempted to do the same as you sensed Ben's pulse pounding with passion and excitement. It had been so long since you put on your suit that you could not even recall when you did so. With all the iron on your breast and the small iron details on your skirt, you looked like a warrior, and so you'd never really liked it.

Even though you didn't feel like a danger on the inside, you chose to wear your suit to show that you were one, even though it would have been ideal if you had simply worn your regular everyday clothing.

Ben's amazed gaze made you take a long breath, and you glanced at him for a moment before realizing it had been a while since he had put on his own suit as well. You were too preoccupied with living your life like any other human being, devoid of conflicts or battles for reasons.

Ben said, “I didn't think you'd put on your suit ever again,” before shutting the door. You were relieved that this time he had not given you a speech about your opened door.

You answered, honestly, “Me neither.”

“Why?” Ben queried. “I thought you didn't want to be seen as a threat. You don't want to deal with Vought ever again, right?”

Glancing down at your naked legs and the cleavage-revealing breasts, he thought you looked like a goddess. He's always thought highly of you, but right now he was also becoming aroused at every step you took and every breath you took, wanting to touch you and pull you onto the bed behind you. His hardened cock was already straining and pleading to be freed from his pants, but all he could manage was to come nearer to you. His heart beat with passion, recalling how you let him cum within you days before. It wasn't a proper sex, but it felt better than any other sex.

You answered, “Yeah,” and Ben moved forward to stand in front of you. You didn't notice Ben avoiding contact with you for so long when you were in your suit and alone in a room with him; therefore, your body was betraying you with expectations and intense need.

“But I want them to know that they will pay for what they have done to me,” you softly said. “I want them to know that I am a threat to them if so.” Your own voice had taken you by surprise. When you did speak, it was quite quietly, but you were very serious. This was something Ben knew.

You just wanted to live in peace and quiet moving forward; no plans to exact revenge or anything like that. But there was no way you could be alright with it if they'd done you anything unforgivable.

Ben's lips curled up proudly and gladly at your reply. He was almost enjoying this small war because he was prepared to murder anyone who betrayed him, placed him in a fucking box, and indicated to destroy him. He was prepared to tear down Vought in every way. But the thing that most thrilled him was that you were prepared to do this with him as well, just like in the old days, as if you were still in a relationship. To Ben, it never altered.

Ben realized, as he glanced at your suit, how fond he was of the way you looked. Whatever was going on with you didn't matter now; you looked just as strong as him.

“And they will pay for it, I promise.” Ben said, “But I still don't want you to go there alone,” he added before you could say anything more. You were conscious of the risks. “If you are exposed to that damned gas again...” Ben went on and then inhaled deeply. Your body stiffened at the mention of the gas; you would never forget or be able to forgive all the torment you had to endure.

You said, “Would you save me again?” That was a surprising thing to ask, but you had to know. “If something goes wrong.”

Ben said straight away, “Of course I would,” in an authoritative and clear manner. “I'd blow up the entire fucking tower up on their dead bodies in a second.”

You eagerly questioned, “Do you swear?” not knowing if you would believe him or not, but wanted to hear it from him none the less.

“I fucking swear,” said Ben. His fingers were now hovering near your thigh. It was difficult for you to ignore his pooking hardness, but you tried, at least though your pussy had other ideas. You couldn't even identify the precise moment when the two of you grew close.

It was difficult to keep your hands apart as you let him touch your back and run his gloved fingers over your outfit. Because of the extreme stress, your body began craving things that it hadn't desired months before. There was simply too much tension that needed to be eased.

“Do you regret it?” Ben asked abruptly, leaving you perplexed.

“From wha-”you murmured, but you knew what he meant by the way he stared at you. “I never do anything that I might later regret, Ben. I mean, generally.”

Following the events in the automobile a few days prior, you had never spoken. In actuality, you were relieved that Ben never brought up the subject of your sexual interaction with him. He seemed to be understanding or patient, you could tell. In your own ways, you were both experiencing internal conflicts. You still didn't understand why, one night, he came in much too much and didn't become erect when you touched him. Your life is full of many issues that needed to be resolved at first.

He said, “Understandable,” in a calm voice. “All I have to tell you is that I will always be wanting you. You never think otherwise.”

You were briefly left speechless by it. He didn't wait for a response, and you had nothing to say.

Ben's lips drew closer to yours, his hands tighter around your abdomen as he gauged your response. Your hands grabbed his neck and drew him closer as his lips captured yours with lust and need. Your heart was racing as his gloved hands pressed your body onto his firm cock. With your tongues meeting as though you had been waiting for this moment for a very long time, you parted your lips to let him in.

Like his body, yours required release and some level of relaxation. It was just too stressful. For you both.

You moved yourself closer to Ben as he continued his desperate kisses, pushing him to go all the way and take control. As soon as he got the message, he quickly had you lie on the bed behind you while lifting your body up and continuing the kiss. Your legs were completely visible to him since the skirt of your suit was already too short.

After giving you a few gentle bites, Ben eventually pulled back to savor the moment. His hands gripped your ass cheeks and gave them a firm squeeze, causing you to moan with bliss.

He used to treat you really harshly because he knew you wouldn't break or whatever, but today, even though he wasn't holding back on his strength, he seemed strangely gentler. You got used to his aggressive and rough demeanor, so you were irritated to see him acting a little more cautiously now and wondered if it was only because you were not as strong as you had been.

You tried to express your wish for him to be rougher with you by tightening your legs around his hips and giving him more forceful kisses in return, even if you didn't say so.

Ben was growling and pressing his hardness between your legs; his hands were gripping your underwear beneath your skirt, lowering it already, which was proof of his impatience.

When your clothing prevented him from reaching your tits, he tried to give them a firm squeeze without breaking the iron chest plate on them, and he made a dissatisfied moan. It was evident that he was struggling not to rip it off. He knew you enjoyed a lot when he played with your tits, but you didn't have much time to take it off.

You took a deep breath as Ben kissed every inch of your body where his lips could reach. You wanted to do it and get rid of all the worry and negative ideas in your body, even if you weren't entirely sure if it was the right thing to do at that particular time. For a little period, you wished to clear your mind. Ben must have had the same thought.

He indicated to you that he intended to suck you there before entering you by lowering your panties and then moving down lower on your body. But you stopped him.

You exclaimed, “No time for this,” and grabbed onto him with quivering hands in order to stop him.

He grumbled, “We have eno-“ and then attempted to convince you. Once more, you stopped him.

You snapped, “No,” and put your fingers on his trousers, beginning to unzip him.

“Impatient?” Ben murmured as he saw that you were eager about freeing his hard cock while you worked nervously on his pants.

His lips once again captured yours, preventing you from speaking, and he helped you. Ben made another move to remove his chest plate so he could be more comfortable and intimate with you as he lowered his pants just enough to free his cock. But you stopped him once more. After all, that wasn't necessary.

It wasn't that throughout previous sexual interactions, you were always naked. On the contrary, Ben rarely ever takes off his suit when he takes you since you always want to avoid getting caught. He was usually tough and quick in these situations.

You gasped when he took off his erection and felt its weight on your clit. Knowing what was coming up next had both of your hearts pounding like crazy.

With little time, you had to move quickly. You lifted your hips to indicate to Ben that you were ready, but he only gave you a short glance before giving you a gentler kiss that you weren't particularly fond of at the moment.

He began stroking his cock, stopped kissing you, and tried to swallow his own groans. Touching the star sign on his suit with your shaky hands, you placed them on his back while you waited under him. Ben checked your facial expressions very carefully to make sure you were completely okay with this, and he saw no hesitancy, which gave him a sense of ease. You simply waited under him, eager and needy.

“Ready?” he muttered. He parted your legs a little wider and pressed your body against the bed a little further. He did not take off your panties, even if they were a little of an obstacle. He was quite okay with taking you like this while you were still wearing it.

You merely nodded to him and said, “Yes.” It seemed like you were already leaking there. Already, you were clutching your walls like a cat in heat.

Ben stroked himself once more and muttered, “Look at me,” pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance. That's when you realized that you were holding your breath.

It felt as though you two were going to experience your first-ever sex, like you were two virgins. Wondering whether Ben thought the same thing.

With eagerness, your lips parted as you obeyed. Your hands traveled to his large arms and biceps, wanting to feel a little flesh too. You were shamefully wetter knowing that you could still bear his strength at the highest level, and the sensation of his strength beneath you was making you feel even more excited.

You nailed his arms through the cloth and couldn't contain your groan as he shoved the tip of his cock within you. Ben's tightened jaw showed that he was trying to contain himself from making a loud sound.

Ben could not help but breathe heavily this time as he continued to press in your tight hole, feeling as though you were dripping there.Your shaking legs weren't helping either.

Ben groaned and said, “Relax a little, baby,” but you were unable to stop clenching around his big cock and lost control over your pussy. You could feel his lips on yours.

You groaned, trying not to clench around him. “I'm trying.”

Ben could not wait any longer and, unable to contain himself, shoved his cock inside of you with one single push that you both moaned in your mouths. His mouth found your neck and began to give it bites there.

This time, stunned by your tightness, he couldn't help but groan when he pushed his all. Ben wasn't sure if he could control himself because of how tightly you clutched him. After all, he hadn't properly fucked you in the past fucking forty years.

Sighing into your neck, “Fuck, I missed your tightness; I missed this so fucking much,” he waited inside of you to feel every part of you and enjoy the moment. But you were moaning underneath him to continue. You needed that release so much it was killing you.

“Don't stop,” you said, impatient for him to get moving. Your heart was on the verge of bursting.

Ben's hands tightened around your hips, his head buried in your neck. Just the way you wanted, he drew his cock back and gave it a really hard shove inside again. He groaned, and you moaned loudly at that action. You were so desperate to feel some flesh that you lowered the cloth around his neck and gave him the same hard bites and licks that caused you to tremble in ecstasy as your hands stroked his arms and shoulders through the fabric.

Ben waited, feeling your wonderful, soaked tightness around him. It was difficult to resist shoving his cock quickly and roughly inside of you. He wanted to relish this moment, look into your face, and observe every expression you made to remind himself how much he missed you in every way—after all, it had been decades. But he'd do everything you asked, and you were being desperate. Nor did you have any fucking time.

Ben repeatedly thrust his cock in you with strong motions as you pushed him to act quicker. His hands squeezed hard on your hips, listening to your little groans and watching as you bit your lips in joy. He started to fuck you harder and quicker.

It was not an excellent sign when he felt himself coming closer because of the incredible and tight way you clasped around him.

“Ben!” you cried out, sensing that you were almost there. Your hands were trembling with pleasure and excitement as they rested on his shoulders. All you needed was a little bit more. All you needed was for him to give you a few more hard strokes while fucking you.

Ben forced himself not to come first until he made sure you came first as he fucked you hard and deep, causing the bed to shake beneath you. He could feel you tighten around him. It was fortunate that he could hear you become more loud since no one else was in the home.

Yet it wasn't helping at all. The little sounds you were making, the way you held him close, and the way your cheeks flushed with pleasure... He was getting too close.

Ben was doing his hardest not to cry out, but he was unable to control himself when you begged him, “Ben, please,” like a whimper, and your fingers tugged his hair a little too hard.

Your eyes opened wide in shock as he gave you one last stroke, and he thrust all of his length into your pussy, filling you up with his thick white ropes between swearing and a loud growl. You waited for him to empty his balls in your pussy as your hands loosened over his biceps.

He was filling you before he had even completed ten strokes. The way his body was shaking on top of you as he spilled himself in you made your eyes wide in shock.

Ben was breathing heavily on your skin and grumbling softly on your neck. Your hands found his back and caressed the star emblem on his suit, and all you could do was wait for him to finish.

To your amazement, he moaned, “Fuck, sorry,” into your neck as he kept filling you up. His voice was shaking. You were perplexed by his response since it sounded regretful. The closer he got, the more tightly he gripped your hips as though you may break free at any second.

He had previously refused to allow you to finish. You didn't know why it was important right now.

You simply said, “It's okay,” not sure how you should respond. It felt awkward when you realized it was over already. You waited for Ben to finish since it was unclear what to do at this point and the air was thick.

Ben didn't feel any better coming inside you so quickly; he had just fucking entered you. Wearing the suit he's always admired, you were there, underneath him, ready for him to take what he'd needed and wanted and yearned for weeks, but he felt awful, and his pride had been broken again. Fuck, he thought to himself. He didn't know what was going on with him these days. His cock must have missed you way too much; he could even know it seemed.

For the first time in his life, he looked for anything to say—anything to at least soften the situation and cover up his wounded pride—but he had no idea how. Not being able to get hard was not as bad as it was. He may have failed because he didn't jerk off earlier. He didn't know a single fucking thing right now.

He only needed to make you come around his cock, but he had failed once more. In spite of your pleas, all he did was leave you feeling unsatisfied. He was unable to contain himself for even five minutes. Ben's constant confidence began to fade from him.

Ben was still breathing heavily on your neck, and he tried to speak, but nothing came out. He never liked to feel powerless, but as you were waiting for him to draw his softening cock back, he did feel powerless. Although he felt physically satisfied, this didn't make him feel any better; instead, it made him feel even more annoyed, stressed, and unsatisfied.

You finally had the guts to make the first move, and your hands left his back. You put one hand to your underwear and attempted to lift it, giving him a message to pull back so that you could break the tension and be ready to go. As you waited for Ben to realize what was going on and withdraw his cock from your pussy, your face started to flush.

Ben took a big breath and cautiously and gently removed his cock from you when he got the cue. You wanted that release badly, but there was nothing you could do. Your walls tightened with expectation once more. Perhaps at a later day.

Ben was staring at your chest as you adjusted your underwear, and he tucked himself back into his pants, trying to get your attention away from his intense stare. Ben was looking between your legs, where his thick come was dripping, before you pulled your panties back. He should have put his hot cum back in your pussy. His erection was screaming for him to be put back in you, so he could fuck you some more, but there was absolutely no time.

Ben said in a rough voice, nervous, “I couldn't hold it back,” and he zipped himself back, waiting on top of you and refusing to let go. Seeing your dissatisfied, confused, and reddened face was an unbearable source of pain. “I didn't do it...on purpose.”

You whispered, “It's okay,” in a trembling voice. Ben was still between your legs, and you wanted to straighten your skirt too. It was time to make the air softer. “It's not the first time.”

It looks like it didn't help any better, Ben stated, “No, it's not,” a firm voice said. You had no idea what he really meant. “I will fix this as soon as we get the job done.”

You wondered how much time you had left if you offered a second time. You had a total of thirty minutes, and now you must have around twenty minutes remaining. But you weren't sure if it was appropriate to offer it. Ben didn't seem to be interested in going inside you again tonight, so you waited for him to initiate it.

You licked your dry lips, whispered gently, “Okay,” and watched him eventually retreat.

Ben surprised you with a strong and soft kiss before helping you to stand up. He withdrew without allowing you to kiss him back. For a brief time, your gaze met. Whatever had occurred was unimportant because, let's face it, you weren't teenagers and it was simply sex. A quick one. You had done it right more than a hundred times with Ben. Actually, only with Ben.

You felt awkward knowing that Ben's seed was still inside of you, but you were too busy to take a quick shower. Ben finished fixing his own suit and hair and remarked, “Remember to be quick there and don't take any attention. You are a Supe after all, to frighten him well and make sure he shits in his trousers so he will share all he knows.”

It relieved you to see him bring up a different subject.

You complained, sounding irritated, saying, “I know what to do,” since Ben was giving you advice. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

His, “Good girl,” were accompanied by a wink.

His gaze was now and then resting on your suit and again on your skirt. The look on his face hardened. “I didn't know that skirt was that short.”

“It has to be because of the washing machine.”

“I can see your lovely ass cheeks from here,” he scowled, making you turn a little around yourself.

You said, adjusting the skirt slightly, “Stop exaggerating.” You saw Ben was carefully glancing at your legs and skirt, so you changed the topic and asked, “What happens if Homelander doesn't come to you?” He wasn't pleased with how much skin you showed.

“He will. I'll make sure to explode good and nice.” He attempted to make a dirty joke, but he didn't smile at all. Instead, he caressed your arms to comfort you.

“But make sure you don't hurt anyone, Ben,” you firmly stated, placing your palm where the star emblem was on his belt. “I'm serious.”

“Of course not,” he said instantly, as if you had just uttered something ridiculous. He sounded puzzled.

Even though you knew he should exercise caution as well, you remained silent. Perhaps you just didn't want him to believe that you were also worried about him. Actually, all that worried you about his chest was the enormous and potentially lethal power it held. After all, he was still unable to find a means to control it.

“Do you think you can handle Homelander there?”

It seemed better to question him about his strength in order to provoke him.

“Are you really questioning my strength, sweetie?” He asked amused, trying to disguise the fact that your suspicious tone had hurt his pride. “I will tear that lab product apart, and you'll be watching on the TV.”

“If you say so,” you said, giving him a little smile.

Ben continued, “By the way,” clearing his throat and carefully placing his gun in your palm after removing it from his suit. “You take this. Since you are not carrying a pistol, it may be useful.”

You mumbled, “I'm a supe, Ben,” but you refused to return the gun to him. “Every part of my body is a gun itself.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ben chuckled and bit his lips sexily, “Don't even tell me.” You've tried to hide your embarrassment, so just roll your eyes at him.

“But thanks anyway,” you said as you tucked the firearm in your suit.

You both heard Butcher returning just as he was about to speak, so you knew it was time. You left the room before Ben got his shield from the corner. All you wanted was for today to be over already.

⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆

A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated. Let me know what you think please <33

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeeeeee @starryperson @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings @brynanna @delaynew @yoyoanaria @n-o-p-e-never @ghostslillady @deans-spinster-witch @demodemo909 @stoneyggirl2 @cheynovak @libby99hb @moneyburner @purplerosequartz @simpin4pixels @deebris @spideybv28 @mystic-mara @tranquilty @winchesterwild78 @jennifer0305 @ultraviolencexs @thecutestaaakawaii @justtnat @babythe67chevy @ashy-kit @ninii-winchester @anna6307 @startingstar @fallout-girl219

@certifiedhaters @hey-there0-0 @darkqueen1995 @jenn-777q @shadowghoul2525 @multifandomdiva

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g1rld1ary · 5 months ago

Text

overheard that she was nineteen - james potter x reader

wc: 1058

cw: nothing, one swear, reader is sad on their birthday, implied fem!reader but i don't think any pronouns

chat how many aura points do i lose for crying in the literal first 20 minutes of my nineteenth birthday :/ don't think about this fic too hard or you'll see it's more of a diary entry than work of fiction oopsie :')

You weren't feeling very special. To be quite honest, your day had been totally shit. It was your birthday, your nineteenth birthday and everyone had forgotten. Well, that wasn't true exactly, but nobody cared. Your parents had barely said 'happy birthday' when you called them, and only one of your friends had texted you. A sweet message, but still kind of depressing.

You knew it shouldn't have been a big deal, no one cared about nineteen, right? Eighteen was the big birthday and you'd had a good enough day last year, so you weren't really sure why this year had brought you down so much.

Maybe it was just because your love of birthdays was never reciprocated. A person's birthday could be the most exciting day of the year, and you were of the opinion that it should be, if possible. You were the one who showed up with a hand-baked cake on your friend's doorstep, without fail. It was something you enjoyed doing undoubtedly, you spent ages picking out which colour the icing should be and what edible decorations should go on top.

On top of that, you considered your defining talent to be writing cards. It was something you took pride in, penning almost-essays that encapsulated the breadth and depth of your love for your nearest and dearest. Proclamations of never-ending adoration, gratitude for years of friendship, the insides of your heart and soul sitting amongst fresh ink and scribbled hearts. You signed your name with a heart and a flower every time. Plus, you made particular efforts to come up with a creative pun or doodle for the front, just to keep things interesting.

So birthdays were things you held in high regard, and having yours seemingly mean nothing to anyone else was a bit of a mood killer if you were being totally honest. Still, what could you do? You picked yourself up, ate an uninspiring breakfast and went to uni.

You felt more anonymous than usual in class. With the semester having started only a week prior, you were in a sea of new people, none of them having any way of knowing it was your birthday, and you weren't quite at the point where you were begging for well-wishes from people you didn't particularly care about. And so you took notes, put your hand up for the participation grade and dreamed of your own cake and candles.

By the end of the day you were exhausted. The classes were long anyway, but carrying around your own personal grey cloud was taking a toll on your body and mind. It was at the car park when your phone dinged; James.

are you coming over tonight?

please

You smiled a little despite your sour mood. Even if James didn't seem like he was fully aware of your outlook on birthdays, being with him always made you feel better.

It'd already been dark for an hour or so by the time you reached the flat he shared with the boys, the winter weather making the sun disappear at four o'clock. You knocked on his door softly, unable to pluck up the strength to even make your presence easily known. James must've been waiting for you though, since you heard the heavy pad of his feet almost instantaneously.

The sight of him nearly took your breath away, though nothing was out of the ordinary. He was still the same old James, his glasses slightly askew on his nose, but he was looking at you with such softness that you felt the tears spike behind your eyes. You tried to push them down.

"I thought we'd have a bit of an early dinner. I know you won't have eaten at uni." He took your bag, setting it by the entry table softly. You managed to nod, hopefully not giving away all your awful feelings. You tried not to be cut up that he hadn't wished you a happy birthday yet.

All of your melancholy had been for nothing, you realised, when James led you to the dining table. He'd gone the full mile, with a cheesy red tablecloth and single candle as the centrepiece.

"Happy birthday, my love," He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You couldn't help it, the tears rolling down your cheeks before you even realised. Once they started you had no chance, sobs wracking through your body as James stood beside you, bewildered.

"Is this not okay? Do you not like it?" He fretted as you cried, and you rushed to reassure him.

"I love it, Jamie, promise. It's just," You managed a half laugh through your bout of tears, "I thought no one cared. I can't believe you've done this for me." James' brow furrowed deeper than you'd ever seen it before as he pulled you into a tight hug.

"I would do anything for you, love. I mean it."

Once your tears had subsided you had a lovely dinner, James making you double over with laughter as all thoughts of your previous shit day dissolved under the weight of the homemade pasta sitting in your stomach.

Just before the night died down, James presented you with a small box, wrapped in the most beautiful silky ribbon. You glanced up at him curiously, untying it slowly. Inside was the most beautiful bracelet you'd ever seen. Connected with a heart-shaped clasp and decorated with a single charm, a love letter. You were embarrassed by the tears working their way back up to your lash line, but James looked delighted by the reaction, he lived to make you happy.

"Thank you," You whispered, "I love you."

James didn't have to say it back for you to know, but he did anyway because it made him happy.

Maybe your birthday wasn't the flashy event you might've wanted, however deep down, but you were strangely okay with it. Despite the fact that no one showed up to your door with a hand-baked cake or essay-length card, you had James, and James would've pulled the stars down from the sky if he thought it would boost your mood. That was enough.

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bunnylovesani · 1 year ago

Text

The Bratty Belle

Chapter 1

Summary: You’ve just moved to the city and want to get to know your new neighbours. One very snarky and very handsome one in particular presents you with a challenge.

WC: 2k

After spending all day unpacking, you finally sat down to observe your new surroundings: you’d kept most of your old furniture, like the vanity table perched in the corner along with your beloved princess bed- complete with an intricately carved wooden headboard. The room was pleasantly familiar beside the new addition of white chiffon curtains that hung around your bed, shrouding you in a comforting cocoon. You let out a dreamy sigh, fiddling with the numerous pillows and plushies littered all over your plush bedding. You might be old enough to move to the big city and have your own condo, but you’ll still cuddle your tatty old teddy to sleep.

Peering out the window, you observe the neighbouring houses strewn along the street opposite, a green meadow separating the complexes. Most of them had a door and mailbox per floor, signifying that a different person resided on each of the levels. The same could not be said, however, for the last house at the very end of the street, which stood detached and boasted a single entryway. It was the only house you could see into being that it was directly opposite yours- unlike the other condos, which joined together in rows a little further up the road. You’d only moved in 2 days ago but noticed that the blinds were shut and the lights always remained off. Maybe no one lived there?

As a reward for your gruelling work unpacking, you took some candy along with your sketchpad and headed out to the field outside your new home. Deciding against another layer over your pink mini dress, you grabbed a picnic blanket and staked out the perfect spot - cosy and tucked away so that the neighbours down the road wouldn’t notice you. Your feet kicked the air playfully as you doodled the flowers in your line of sight, humming contentedly with a cherry-flavoured lollipop hanging from your lips. You were so engrossed in your sketch that you almost didn’t notice the shadow looming over you, blocking the warm sunlight.

“Who are you?” A tall man with dark features frowned at you and you looked up, mirroring his frown.

“I don’t talk to strangers.” You huffed, returning your attention to your notebook. That wasn’t strictly true- you were bubbly and befriended anyone who would have you but this man in particular intimidated you.

“What are you, ten?” He scoffed and raised his thick eyebrows, forehead wrinkles deepening.

Much to your annoyance, you could sense that he wasn’t leaving before he got a satisfactory response - so you put your pencil down and looked up at him again. His cerulean blue eyes shone so brightly they practically twinkled and a sharp spark flew through your heart at the sight. Rugged, almost-black hair choppily framed his chiselled face, which had smudges of dirt and sweat flecking his tanned skin. A manual labourer, perhaps?

“I’m Bunny. Jus’ moved in over there.” You turn around and point at the apartment behind you. “And you are?”

“Happy to see you.” His deep, raspy voice replied teasingly.

“I meant your name.” You corrected him snappily.

“My real one or a fake one like you just gave me?” You pout your lips; you didn’t like his sharp tongue.

“I’m James. James Kelly.” He said after a while of staring at your scrunched-up face. “I’ll call you by your stupid pet name if you crave affection that badly.”

Your mouth gaped open at his callous words and you felt as though you’d been unmasked. It was undoubtedly pathetic but the truth was you considered your first name to be too harsh, too cold. You much preferred being sensitively referred to by an affectionate pet name- one that people often didn’t realise they were being duped into using, assuming it was real. But not him.

“You won’t get the opportunity to use it, I’ll make sure of that.” You crossed your arms and furrowed your brows.

“Well you’re just a little ball of anger aren’t you?” He chuckled, finding your short temper adorable. “Very tense for one so young.”

“And you’re very nosy for one so old.” You gather your colouring pencils into your fluffy pencil case, your creative inspiration rattled by his presence. You surmised that he was at least 10 years your senior; his hands looked weathered but still supple, his crows feet visible but not yet entrenched.

“Hey, you don’t have to move, I’m leaving.” He protests but you’re already on your feet. “Alright moody, suit yourself.”

You shoot him a displeased look as you clutch your sketchpad tightly against your chest, turning your back to him and taking a step forward.

“By the way.” He adds and you halt tentatively. “You should really wear a longer dress if you’re gonna be laying down like that. I could see your panties.”

Your cheeks flush a burning red and you screw your eyes shut in embarrassment.

“They’re cute though. I like the strawberry print.” You can feel his grin beaming through his words and you want nothing more than to run away and never see his stupid handsome face again.

“Leave me alone.” You attempt to say confidently but it comes out as more of a squeak. You tried to walk off with as much dignity as you could manage under the pressure of his burning gaze but you ended up frantically skipping back, wanting to go home and bury your face in your pillows as soon as possible.

“What a rude man.” You thought. “Rude and irritatingly attractive.”

Later that evening, you took it upon yourself to bake several lots of chocolate chip cookies- eager to use them as a way of getting into your new neighbour’s good graces since you lived off a steady diet of praise and compliments. You separated the different batches and ordered them into various paper bags, each lovingly wrapped with a ribbon and placed delicately into a woven wicker basket. Glancing into the mirror before you set off, you manoeuvred your lace-trimmed tank top down a little to accentuate your cleavage- you loved to watch men struggle to maintain eye contact with you.

After determining your chest looked too bare, you bounded over to the bedroom to retrieve your favourite necklace- a dainty silver rabbit pendant. As you fiddled with the clasp, something out of the window caught your eye- you noticed that the house usually shrouded in darkness had a glimmer of light peeking through its half-opened blinds.

Curiosity inevitably got the better of you so you grabbed your baked goods and made a beeline to the dark house, intrigued by the prospect of who its resident might be.

Clearing your throat and brushing some creases out of your skirt, you press the sooty doorbell and hope your mystery neighbour is in a sociable mood. The hopeful smile is wiped off your face when the door opens and you see the same rude man from this morning before you.

“Look at that! My very own girl scout.” He laughs incredulously and you form a face of disgust.

“It’s you.” You recoiled.

“Try saying that with less repulsion.” He retaliated, eyes flicking between your frowning face, your tits and the basket of cookies. “Coming to a man’s house and being disappointed that he lives there. That a hobby of yours?”

“N-no, I didn’t know who lived here.” You stuttered, taking in the sight before you: he must’ve just gotten out the shower as his hair was dripping wet and his shirt unbuttoned, a silver cross necklace dangling over his collarbones and positioned between his firm pecs.

“Thought you said you don’t talk to strangers, let alone turn up at their house.” He cocked his head to the side, leaning against his doorframe. “Uninvited, at that.”

“I don’t. At least not the rude ones who make comments about a girl’s underwear.” You retorted petulantly.

“Hey, that was me looking out for you. Don’t know what kind of pervs live ‘round here- they could take advantage of a girl like you. Those for me?” He points at the basket.

“I-I guess.” You go to take out one bag but he snatches the whole basket. “What do you mean a girl like me?”

“Oh you know-“ He speaks casually, mouth half full of his first helping of baked goods already. “Ditzy. Spoilt and naive.”

You huff in disbelief- you’d hardly had two conversations with the guy and he’d managed to insult you several times already.

“Don’t get offended, princess. I’m sure you’re not used to people speaking so candidly with you but welcome to the real world.” He makes a face indicating that he was impressed with your confectionary, licking the crumbs off his fingers. “This your first time living away from home?” He points his second cookie at your face before stuffing that in his mouth too.

“Uh, yeah.” You drawl, confused. What planet was this guy from?

“Alone?” He lowers his voice, staring hungrily into your eyes.

“Yeah.” You squeak, wondering why your confidence had abandoned you.

“Shouldn’t have told me that.” He sneered. “I could be a predator and you’ve just armed me with the knowledge that you have no one to protect you.” His eyes look crazed and you get the sense that he got a kick out of playing around with you.

“Well, are you?” You reply unamused and he drops the act, looking at you through squinted discerning eyes.

“Mm, no.” He sniffed. “Haven’t got the stomach for it. Great cookies, by the way. You’re quite the little baker.”

You can’t resist the smile that creeps up on your face, delighted with his approval. “I try.” You humbly gleam, teetering on your tiptoes.

“Aw, you actually look sort of pretty when you’re not scowling.” Your glowing face drops in an instant, marred by his insult.

“Sort of?”

“Yeah. Like in an endearing but bratty child kind of way.” He notices your sullen face, tensed up with disapproval and confusion. “You’re not really my type, sweetheart.”

“Y-you’re not mine either!” You spit out a little too fast.

“The only difference is I don’t care.” He snorts and you remain in stunned silence, your ego bruised beyond words. “What’s the matter? Never had a man uninterested in you? Come in, I’ll make you a consolatory coffee.”

He gestures for you to enter and you walk in cautiously, following his lead to the lounge. His house was minimalist, fitted with sleek black furniture and a surprisingly clean kitchen at the other end of the living room.

“I don’t drink coffee. And what is your type then?” You sink down onto his leather armchair and cross your arms.

“I like a more mature, developed woman.” You look down at your large round breasts. “I meant emotionally.” He adds before you can say anything.

“I’m plenty mature.” You think grumpily. You knew better than to base your self-worth on the validation of a man but goddamn it, you wanted him to like you even if you didn’t like him.

“My type is also mature men.” You countered haughtily.

“I don’t recall asking.” He pours himself a coffee and sits down opposite you, continuing to steal glances at your chest.

“I also like them wealthy.” You add, spurred on by his disaffection.

“Like your daddy?” He smirks as he takes a sip and you scowl at him.

“Oh no, not the frown again.” He falters mockingly. “If looks could kill…you know Bunny, you shouldn’t let things get to you so easily.”

“Can’t help it. I’m sensitive.” You mumble half-mindedly, preoccupied with plotting all the ways in which you could seduce him. You tried to have self-respect, you really did, but it was just so hard. Especially when you’d just been dealt such an unprecedently juicy challenge; a man who didn’t want to sleep with you? It was practically unheard of and you humbly decided you would take it upon yourself to cure him of this affliction.

Next chapter

Taglist:

@crazy4hotmen @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10 @mugwump327 @offthethirlwall

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen fanfiction #anakin skywalker #James Kelly #American heist #james Kelly fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin x you

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allfearstofallto · 10 months ago

Note

I hear your pleas for ideas loud and clear so I raise you yandere Kaeya gaslighting tf out of you. So talented you are, but you always fumble when it comes to presenting your skills to the world. Oh so many wonderful ideas in that mind of yours - too bad they die on your lips.

And that's why you need him. To save you from embarrassing yourself as you clutch your latest creation that would undoubtedly revolutionize some industry against your chest as your eyes burn with unshed tears. It always baffled him that you thought that you were worthy of that honor. I mean, you can't even order a meal without shaking like a leaf.

You aren't built for this lifestyle, now are you? Geniuses could easily bounce back from failure, yet here you are, soaking his shirt with your never-ending tears. Were you ever a genius?

(basically Kaeya gaslight gatekeep girlbossing talented inventor darling into oblivion bc I just know this man would be jealous if you were famous. I'm so sorry for writing so much but this idea has been eating me up inside so now I send it to you. May I be 🐇 Anon?)

🐇 anon, first of all, it is a pleasure to meet you! Secondly, my dear bun, you've saved my ass!! This was such a good prompt and it felt incredible to write!

Maybe I'm just in the mood to write gaslighting bitches cause this felt natural!!

Voiceless

Yandere! Kaeya x reader

TW: gaslight, and quite harsh words, but Kaeya is saying them so it's kinda sexy

If people could see what was going on inside your head, they'd think you were a genius. And you are, or at least, you believe that you are. But all those faces, all those eyes on you, those people looking at you makes your body go stiff and your words lodge in your throat. And in the end, you look like a bumbling idiot.

But you were his bumbling idiot. That's what he'd tell you at least. Hurtful words yes, but he meant them in an endearing way. His phrases were sweet and loving, even if to the average person they sounded a bit harsh. You explained to people that he didn't truly mean it that way, he was just trying to make you feel better.

“And how was it today?” He’d asked you. He always looked like a work of art when he came home from his long shifts. Every strap and piece of clothing would be pulled from his body as he spoke, he was so careless about showing himself off in front of you, but you were still flustered and shy around him.

With a sheepish smile, you held up the mora that he'd given you to use for a drink, completely untouched. You couldn't even bring yourself to leave the house. A dramatic sigh fell from his lips, but he still kneeled on the couch and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“Oh, you sweet, poor thing,” he whispered in your ear. He took your cheeks into his hands and squeezed them lightly, like he was coddling a child, “Still so shy aren't you? It's okay, I speak for you.”

It's like you breathed a sigh of relief when he spoke. All the weight of the world was lifted off your shoulder. You were a genius, yes, but you were a genius who could barely speak a full sentence to anyone. Except for Kaeya.

His charming smile and flashy personality made you weary at first. Why would someone like him be interested in something so quiet and timid? You felt like a coal in comparison to his flashy, diamond-like nature. Your mind was like a maze, endless corners and rooms filled with ideas, but you got lost in them as well, and just ended up choking on your own words.

Kaeya released you from his warm embrace and sat down next to you. He looked at the coffee table in front of you, covered in ideas and doodles that you'd have for your latest inventions. Your mouth never moved, but your brain was a constant machine, most days you couldn't get it to shut up. It all had to be let out, in notes or drawings.

He picked up one of the random pages, an idea for a water filter, and a chuckle fell from his lips, “And how would you pitch this one?” He asked. The way those words fell from his lips felt condescending, he already knew that you couldn't do it, but you knew better than to think that. It was just his love, it was how he showed it, he wanted you to succeed.

You felt yourself flush even thinking about it, but you still stood with the paper in your hands. Walking to the other side of the coffee table, you looked down at the notes you'd written. It was all there. Everything about your idea was right there, everything you needed to say was right in front of you. But when you looked up from the page, you felt dizzy, the letters on the paper began to merge and swirl together.

It was like your world had tilted on its axis and suddenly everything was lopsided. You felt yourself spinning, but you knew you were standing perfectly still. The only person looking at you was Kaeya. His beautiful self, like a statue crafted by the gods, was sitting there, focused on you.

An average person would love and adore the amount of attention someone like Kaeya gave. A smolder on his lips and all a sparkle in his eye. But you weren't the average person and you already felt as if you were sinking into yourself, like the world was about to swallow you whole, and before you knew it, tears had started to fall from your eyes.

“Can't even talk in front of me anymore, can you?” He asked and you gave him a slow, solemn nod. You tried to hold back sobs as you realized how truly useless you were. Unable to speak in front of even your own boyfriend, a true genius would never suffer from this.

“I'm- I'm sorry,” you'd somehow managed to stutter through your apology, but that much was to be expected of you. Tears fell onto the page and smeared the ink of your notes, but it didn't matter, it's not like you were going to read it anyways.

“That's the problem, my love,” he cooed to you in his usual tone, he stood from the couch and began scooping up all the pages that lay on the coffee table. All your ideas, all your work was crumbled up into a ball. It stung a bit, seeing everything you had worked so hard to make be treated like trash and thrown away, but nothing hurt more than your failures, “You're not built for this kind of thing. You know that, right?” He spoke close to your face, your lips brushing against your, soft like flower petals on your skin.

“I know,”

“But that's okay. Do you know why?” He asked, placing a gentle hand on your face and squeezing the fat of your cheeks.

“Because I'm yours. And I don't need to be smart to be yours,”

He held you close to his chest, peppering your forehead with kisses. All your work was thrown in the trash. “It's only making you unhappy,” he said. And he was right. You weren't ready for this. This type of thing wasn't for you. You only needed him.

So you lay in his arms and tried to stop the sniffling. He was the only person you'd need to talk to, he'd be your voice if needed be. You were only hurting yourself trying to do these things that you weren't made for.

#genshin #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #mai<3 answers #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere x you #yandere kaeya #yandere kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #🐇 anon

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bluegekk0 · 5 months ago

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we see grimm wanting to bite vyrm, (he is hallownests #1 neck enjoyer, but does vyrm ever bite grimm? is vyrm hallownests #1 enjoyer if anything? also can i see a lil doodle of vyrm biting grimm i think it would be silly

He does from time to time, definitely not as often as Grimm does since he's not the one usually initiating the teasing. Not to mention, all the fur on Grimm's neck and shoulders (the primary love biting area for them) is covered in thick fur, which makes attempting to bite them a bit troublesome. Not that it would stop Vyrm, but getting fur stuck to his tongue can't be the most pleasant haha

Thought I'd draw them anyway, not the happiest with the result since my hands were not cooperating well today, but I hope it's good enough nonetheless

And as for the second part of the question, I do really like the mental image of him tinkering with pocket watches in his workshop. Yes, I do think they have an equivalent of those in their world, and Vyrm would undoubtedly be obsessed with the intricate mechanisms. So if there is a #1 pocket watch enjoyer in Hallownest, I think he can safely claim that title.

#feeling mentally exhausted so sorry for any typos or other mistakes #the drawing probably isn't that bad either #but i'm having a really bad self-esteem day #either way thanks for the ask!#ask stuff #gekko.art #feral pk au #fpk #vyrm #grimm #pale nightmare

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fullscoreshenanigans · 18 days ago

Note

What is some of your favorite full score trio fanart?

Dear anon we will be here for hours, days even.

I wish this website would let you search multiple tags at once because I do have a fave tag (mobile version) but there's other posts in there too you'd have to go through (but I mean, I also love those too and think they're worth seeing lol).

I don't like reposting fanart for a variety of reasons, but some links and tag ramblings below the cut for some of them:

☆ "tire swing" by @notelectrictigerart

#ℍ 𝔼 𝔸 𝕃 𝕀 ℕ 𝔾 #I personally have an embarrassing distaste of tire swings but this... t h i s 🥺🥺 #like in the “NER in the Bird Cages” short story from the light novels Emma laments how Ray is never happy #and back then a lot of the time she probably thought he was being churlish and moody for no reason #so to capture a moment like this is... 🤧 #these are the moments that kept him going #also love the impressionist style of the greenery #and how the sun is filtering through the leaves and speckling on the tire #ty for sharing op this is beautiful

☆ Untitled by @tohmei

#this is how Ray sees them #him just off in the corner like #“I would and will die for you 🧡🙂🤍” #messin' me up lads #even if it's same hat lol #but no really this is gorgeous #with how bright the colors are around the two of them and their expressions #contrasting with how dark it is around Ray because he fully believes he has to shoulder all his burdens alone for years #and doesn't deserve to share in their light because of the things he's done #I'm always going to be emo over the emo son

☆ "I need a Ray-charge" by @uragirinoteme

#mf got shoujo bubble vision lkfjdkl #the most adorable and endearing lil shits Ray never stood a chance 🤍🖤🧡 #moments like these solidifying that everything will be worth it in the end‚ even if they end up hating him for i t#he might be biased but he just can't shake the belief of an inherent goodness in them #that makes them better people than him who deserve to be saved #I know I say Ray is a cat boy a lot and Emma's got the 83 face going on in the first two panels #but the way Norman is laying on him?? omg he gets the cat boy vibes/award this time #most contented cat on what he and Emma believe to be prime real estate |3

☆ Untitled by @vivithekid

#godddd I still fucking adore the soft tenderness of this piece so much #which is kind of wild when you think about it given how grey is usually associated with being dull and devoid of that #when it's the predominant tinge to a setting #but here it's just so calm and intimate with the fog and their proximity #and the way the pink and orange are overtly and subtly woven in throughout the piece #love it; along with the drop shadow around the flowers Emma's emitting to make them *pop* #and the details on their clothing!! #some of the pink is due to the cold outside sure but u///u #Norman tenderly placing a flower behind his ear is just...so sweet #he's treating him so delicately not because he's fragile or he thinks he needs to be babied #but because he deserves that kindness after all he sacrificed for them and he considers him to be something precious #(read: i am fucking emo) #and Ray's just stunlocked by the both of them because is this really happening?? 404 error lol #for a few seconds they can't even see the fog of his breath because he stopped breathing #the way he's holding onto that book out of shock but also as a kind of unconscious barrier because this is treading into new unknowns #and they're definitely not unwelcome but it's still scary in its own way all the same #for someone who relies so much on his memories and the knowledge he's read #(there were undoubtedly titles that featured romance at Grace Field but it's a bit different reading about it happening to others #and it happening to you)

☆ Monster AU doodles by @tempo-takoyaki

#THAT FUCKING NORMAN IN THE TOP RIGHT KDJFSAS #it is so rare for him to be the Person C in the birdsquirrel trio dynamic but he is so done with their shit #not even needing to look at Ray in the bottom left to figure out what he was thinking I love it #long-suffering; so long-suffering #also the lil crying one 🥺 with them nibbling on him with their little bby fangs 🥺🥺 precious 🤧 #“Emma doesn't need to do it she just thinks it's fun” #something something “Ray was doing it so I wanted to do it too” LKDFKLKJL #with Isabella and Ray being the only black-haired pureblood vampires these kids have ever met #makes me wonder if they're more inclined to pick up on their connection (combined with their enhanced senses)

☆ "🎉🦉🎂 Happy Birthday, Norman! 🎂🦉🎉" by @officersnickers

#Ray’s got melanin‚ Emma’s got freckles‚ they’re all blushing but Norman’s bushing the most out of them all #the outfits look like something kids would wear (also I'm biased and love hoodies so ray in a hoodie is gr8 in my book lol) #the definition of each of their jawlines but especially the birthday boy's #the details with the folds and shading on the clothes‚ the metallic shine to the balloons with their little crevices‚ #each of them having a candle corresponding to them on the cake that’s littered with little goodies #matching their respective hats that each have the others’ colors in their little poofs #the blurred confetti so we know we’re right in the midst of it erupting and falling around them #in this kinetic chaotic haze of love and warmth #it’s all what he deserve after everything <3

☆ kofi-request by @nekokat42

#can't believe they invented ot3s #← incredibly valid prev tag #love when people give Ray his shark teeth back love that cheeky confidence getting to come out in more relaxed circumstances #and Emma having the time of her life dancing and laughing aaaaahhh. healing 🤍🧡🖤 #love her outfit esp it looks adorable on her #and the way Norman and Ray pause to make eye contact with the latter mid-dance; beautiful

☆ "favorite genre of tpn content: WE LOVE NORMAN!!" by @pawphin

#filed under posts I'll reblog in perpetuity until blocked #to go with the previous reblog #Ouran uniform vibes are still v strong for me lol #but no I love how genius boy Norman is all ? and subdued and slightly bashful in the middle #as if he can't understand what could possibly warrant this intervention #as if he doesn't have any idea of how much they love and adore him and would do near anything for him #We Are All Love Norman Fanclub indeed #love how you capture their personalities with Norman being humbled and finding comfort in their presence #Emma (potentially on tiptoe <3) with a steeply slanted delighted smirk on her lips as she leans in #and Ray‚ whose expression is so frequently camouflaged by his fringe and who favors actions over words when it comes to these matters‚ #not wearing a matching smirk but following her lead without a second thought in such a sweet and tenderly fond fashion #not treating Norman delicately because he's fragile but because he considers him someone to be treasured #as one of his precious two in this moment #love how it all feels so natural to them as they inhabit each others' space #everyone's already cited how gorgeous the colors are but I love how the purples & pinks bring out the hint of pink in his eyes 💗💙 #so many little things to adore that combine into such a soft piece #god tier trio tbqh; can't believe they invented OT3s

☆ "Go for it, Ray!" by @mari-lair

#when i tell you these three have me by the neck i- #im love themb #← prev tags... yeah 🥺🤧🖤🧡🤍 #reblogging again because this is still so incredibly true #adore the moments of NE together adore their individual moments with Ray #it took me a sec to realize Emma and him were holding hands in their solo one; so precious 🤧 #probably during the Cuvitidala search #Norman's cocky side coming out during one of their chess matches #to say nothing of how he's the queen and Emma's the king out of the pieces in the background; all the little nuances in here 🧡🖤🤍 #and then ofc Ray being all sheepish and bashful in the center #he loves them so much and is so grateful they exist even if he thinks he doesn't deserve them :') </3

☆ "DO NOT SEPARATE THEM!!!!!!!!" by @lemcean

#𝕋 ℍ 𝔼 𝕄 🖤🤍🧡 #still absolutely adore this set so much with all of them taking turns being the center of the hug #love how the pink undertone of the shading infuses them with an even greater sense of cozy warmth and safety #love the little leans of each#NE leaning in to support #(and overwhelm bc after GF he's still working on expressing himself openly re: “selfish” personal wants) a blushy mess of a Ray #as Norman gives him a headpat |3 #Norman's got a bit of height over both of them so Ray has to raise himself up a bit to fully get on his shoulder #but it's worth it to see the normally calm‚ cool‚ and collected emperor adorably frazzled 🤍🤍 #and then finally how they both lean down to Emma's height to embrace her #neither of them looking tense as melt into her embrace and you can almost hear the thrum of contentedness radiating from her #stealing another Sae line but ough 's the good good shit #[Love for Emma is not measured quantities to be doled out in scarcity like it is for him and Norman; love for Emma is a fact of life, like the air she breathes and the sun that warms her skin.] #the accuracy #can't believe they invented OT3s

☆ "Specimen" by Jean

#hey fucking kill me (most affectionate) #this is still so immaculate I can't get over it #the way Ray's and Emma's black-to-white ratios for their outfits are opposites while Norman's is more balanced #a cooler white used for him to harmonize with his hair #set against the rich red backdrop to subconsciously bring forth visions of fully bloomed vida fields #so visually striking #the melancholic aura of the piece as they all bow their heads forward #playing into the tragedy of them succumbing to the original fate that was in store for them #immortalized in the innocence of their youth #(akin to the chapter 113 art with the line-up of kids in the present with Norman as he was at Grace Field) #as they're paraded around in their fancy attire for the amusement of those who want nothing more than to feast on their flesh #but oh the way the boys delicately hold their hands out for Emma's to slip into; that unspoken trust and unconditional love #“It's going to be okay. The three of us—Norman‚ Ray‚ and me—are together.” #that reassurance that they're capable of the impossible #as the butterflies and specks of light dance around them in a near ethereal display #very grand very beautiful #though ngl now I'm kind of wishing they had to confront the demons in a more diplomatic manner #along the lines of what Norman does with Geelan or something like Peter showing up at Bayon's party in Ch73 #but with all of them in outfits like these; alas </3

☆ From 約ネバLOG by だいすけ 1881860

#a twist on the spin with Emma being paired with a field though still having the brighter warm colors #while Ray has the night sky but it's being reflected in a dark ocean with some waves for a nice touch #and then Norman with an incredibly blue sky and oceanscape that looks like it could be from the Seven Walls #which is funny considering he's the only one of the three who doesn't go there lol #think the first time i saw this was in a "Dusk Till Dawn" mini amv #and it took forever to find the original source qwq #bless AMV artists who list all their sources either in the description or in a Google doc

☆ "Today on Tori traces animation: Kekkai Sensen ED ft. fullscore trio" by @stray-tori

#𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑬 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑨𝑺𝑺??????????? #𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙀𝘿‚ 𝘽𝙍𝙄𝙇𝙇𝙄𝘼𝙉𝙏‚ 𝙄𝙉𝘾𝙍𝙀𝘿𝙄𝘽𝙇𝙀‚ 𝘼𝙈𝘼𝙕𝙄𝙉𝙂‚ 𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙒-𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙋𝙋𝙄𝙉𝙂‚ 𝙎𝙋𝙀𝘾𝙏𝘼𝘾𝙐𝙇𝘼𝙍 #spoiled spoiled the fandom was so spoiled by you Tori; taking time to share the individual frames no less #strong competitor for my favorite of your TPN animated works omfgggg I can't get over how smooth and seamless this is #the extra work you put into including Emma's bow #and Ray coolly catching Norman from his fall after Emma surprises him with that rush (because if that isn't classically her) #the soft expressions they exchange‚ the mutual bounce and giddiness in their step as they fall into that shared rhythm with ease #borne from their years of finding solace in each other's presence #but oh the muted layer of horror with your ingenuity of placing them in a field of fully bloomed vida #instead of just tracing them over the original's stage background #and to top it all off‚ it's them in their shipment clothes (and not just one or the other but both the manga and anime variants) #similar to that heartbreaking mania Ray works himself up into in the climax of the escape arc #but viewed from the perspective of if Ray had kept the secret or if none of them knew the truth of the house #and them unknowingly dancing along to the cruel tune that was laid out for them over a thousand years ago #alternatively‚ the more upbeat view is them dancing to their own beat completely aware and defying fate #and them drawing strength from each other #a la “If there isn't a place out there for humans to live‚ we'll carve one out for ourselves. Together we'll change the world.” vibes #fun either way though!!! have I conveyed how much I adore this yet? #ty so much for sharing and leaving it for fans to enjoy to this day

☆ "12.05.24" by @bercybbc

#OMFGGGGGGGGGGGG #you op. you get them 🤍🖤🧡 #when you need to let your Ray who is full of love and loyalty know that he is deeply loved in return #the way Emma's hand is on his neck to gently tilt him closer to her #while Norman tenderly holds his chin so he can place a soft kiss to his cheek #(Emma's other hand resting on his wrist‚ sentiments so profoundly interwoven) #and the relaxed tension born of fondness you convey with the shape and slope of the latter's iconic brow especially‚ <3 #love how you define his Adam's apple and jawline too; so solidly satisfying #and their strong noses? their hands??? the way they melt into each other's touch and reaffirm each other's concept of home #can't get over it can't get over any of it #I'm that one sped-up gif of the guy walking into the living room and knocking over a vase on repeat (most affectionate) #ty for sharing this is a great start to my day

☆ "The trio 💕" by @h0lymanteca

#oh. oh they is hold. #they is hold and secure 🧡🤍🖤 #thinking about how protective Norman is of them that he fully accepted walking to his death not just once‚ but twice #and once he got them back at the paradise hideout it's like this lol #I love the small contented smiles on Emma's and Norman's faces #meanwhile Ray is feigning indifference but he can't stop the blush from creeping up on his face as he accepts the embrace and leans in #him and Emma both safely nestled in the crook of Norman's neck #after thinking they'd never be together again with him until the afterlife #stealing this from you for the umpteenth time sae but #[If Norman had to give a name for the emotion Ray seems to be feeling right now, he would say: relief.] #feel like that's what permeates this piece with the content yet small tired lines around Emma's eyes #but tired because they have a moment to safely relax and breathe #and Ray's definitely feeling that too #aaaa so soft 💕💕

☆ "they were alone in the kitchen and Ray came in for a morning hug <3" by @h0lymanteca

#filed under RENarts that drive me crazy stupid #the pure domesticity 💯👌👌😩 #me whenever I see Ray not wearing the blacks and greys he longed for at Grace Field #especially when Emma's associated with the sun‚ Norman's associated with the moon‚ and he's associated with the night sky/stars #nice detail with that pattern choice with how he's got an arm wrapped solidly around each one of them #the sky and stars gently enveloping the two in a safe and secure hug 🥺🤧 #perfect with those aforementioned associations as well as in capturing their typical demeanors?? #Ray coming in quietly and maybe comparatively subdued in the way he expresses his love and loyalty #but it's imbued in his actions and gestures and Emma and Norman can feel it emanating from him #also in his matching blush u///u #meanwhile Emma is unabashed in her open displays of affection and reacts with glee to Ray's joining her and Norman #while Norman will sort of act as a bridge between the two; usually never reaching Emma's levels of expressiveness #but still being more willingly to openly display his affections in a gentle way #like here with the contented smile and blush on his face as he's sandwiched between them #(not that he minds as the one most prone to freezing; why i hc him as sleeping in the middle 90% of the time) #that lean back so he can see more of Ray and make room for him #and it's all so warm too with this palette choice aaaaah 🖤🤍🧡 #also that hand on the hip #Ray might have interrupted but they don't mind :')

☆ "3" by @yaboybokuto

#such tender kissies #love the gentle contentment with Norem #smiling into each other with gentle touches #the casual giddiness with Rayem #at least for Emma; Ray looks a little timid but the gesture feels familiar #the soft passion with Norray #Ray almost looks a little desperate reaching up to kiss him #their hands and expressions do a great job of conveying their different dynamics #they are tender #← incredible and accurate prevs #also love how the blush streak across each of their faces #leads to a visually pleasing asymmetrical symmetrical path for the eye to follow on a first viewing of the piece #love how OP gets REN

☆ "As I drew it, I remembered NER holding hands." by @vinokurinner

#wow can't believe they're married now #hands is hold 🤝 #the way they do it so delicately too‚ ah |3 <3 but especially the way Ray tenderly cups and takes Norman's? #Like bitch what?? 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵??? (utmost affection) #Norman's little bow to Emma and the way he's standing so proper with his hands behind his back as she's putting the ring on Ray fjdvkld #love how the comic is primarily composed of white‚ black‚ and pink to really make their rings stand out #they all look so dashing?? i love Emma's nontraditional wedding outfit so much??? #also love how they're balanced in the last panel since Norman and Ray both gained a head on Emma #and how she's got this officiating pose for the final leg of their exchange #good stuff great stuff

☆ "I just finished Promised Neverland soooo" by @vassssssssssss

#LONG-HAIRED NORMAN LONG-HAIRED NORMAN HOLY SHIT #i've only ever seen Sunny draw him with long hair aaaaah #m'guy close to pulling a Julius; he will never beat the Ratri allegations in my eyes #likewise Ray displaying the most PDA out of a trio pic is rare but not unwelcome #him with stubble 🖤🖤 i will always be on the hc of him growing a beard when he's older #love the choice in gold effects for each of them #along with the quiet‚ serene atmosphere as they all lean into each other and draw solace from each other's presence #built up from a lifetime of familiarity and safety #literally just used this a few days ago but once again pulling out the sae defending quote [In hindsight—it’s probably been true since they were children playing tag in trees, too young to know anything except each other.] #bc yeah kill me softly with that one #also tiny note like the detailing/strokes used for their eyebrows

☆ "compilado REN" by @7w7thais

#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #ALL THE LITTLE SNAPSHOTS OF PURE DOMESTIC BLISS #AND THEIR RINGS FUCKING AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 🖤🧡🤍🖤🧡🤍🖤🧡🤍 #okay i'm (ostensibly) normal and (slightly more) coherent now #Norman being tall and bulky enough to fit a little Emmita in his jacket with her adorable beret doubles the adorable #Norman as a Sylveon to Ray's Umbreon oh that's nice; also that the latter was willing to get into the kigurumi without much fuss lol #them doing facials together and 𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 that cuddling under the covers #with Norman looking pleased as punch at that behind kiss #adore the way you covey how they each carry themselves because I always feel that energy and fervor thrumming beneath the surface for Emma #girl just has so much love to give and makes no attempt to deny the obvious (nor believes she should) #while Norman and Ray are more subdued and reserved in their displays of affection but by no means does that make them less loving #the quiet reveling in the mundane (especially in that bottom left one with Ray nestling into the crook of his neck 🤍🖤) #further evidence Ray is a cat #that bottom right one of him and Emma looking so content |33 #special shoutout to the soft look he gives her in the top right he's in his element cooking is one of his love languages <3 #oh and the way she cards through his hair while he's playing the switch; they fit together so naturally after everything #AND AND Norman shaving the peach fuzz off his face and winding up baby-skin smooth (nothing less than perfection ✨✨) #while Ray looks on with a quirked brow of interest jkfsj #love how you play with the square jawline in the shadow while he still has a softer‚ rounder one #aaand I'm running out of tag space but as always love the way you get them and show your love for them; a patron saint of REN 🙏🖤🧡🤍

☆ "💕" by @7w7thais

#LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO #Thais I'll never be over the way you capture the warm tenderness between them #interwoven with a playful mischievousness and underlined with a delighted steady giddiness #particular like the confident‚ open cheekiness Ray displays as a means of saying “come on‚ you know you love me” #wrt to whatever he's just said #the repeated reverie at having that constant of home in each other's arms after everything they've been through #almost not believing it's real as they soak in the moment before the reassurance that it is with each embrace #and how they enrich each other's lives in the ways they challenge and inspire each other #making sure to live up to the sentiments of “I'll show you something cool‚ so shut up and follow” with something new every day #'s the good stuff 💯👌👌 love how that's all reflected in their eyes and body language #and the lighting for enhancement #also Ray's piercings yeees <3

☆ "pampering Emma" by @bakeddeer

#filed under RENarts that drive me crazy stupid #[woah woah woah hold up#THIS ARTSTYLE??? it’s so unique and whimsical and geometric but still soft?? like how?? #I love the glow and how both Emma and Ray appear to generate light while Norman doesn’t #it’s so SAD and so PRETTY #like op please illustrate a book or publish an art collection I would pay] #← realest prev prev tags fr fR #alt Emma is the one emanating light/who the light is centered on and they're both just basking in it #(“just” from their perspective with their self-worth issues </3) #her and Ray have glow-in-the-dark shoelaces‚‚‚even the president would be jealous‚‚‚ #110% agree about the geometric style it feels so jaunty and perfectly reflective of their respective dynamics with her pre-Escape #(though her cravat paired with her in a skirt initially threw me lol) #Norman being more hands on and open in the way he holds her and cradles her head as she delights in telling him something #Ray hands off and feigning nonchalance but very much willing to let her be this up in his personal space #and wouldn't even consider letting her fall #for him to treat her the same way as Norman would be inauthentic to all of them #thus we arrive at the caption (which is‚ gah‚ love how much is said so simply) and how they each do that in their own ways #love the grand cosmic and ethereal feel to this with the coloring and enhanced by the speckling and lack of a background #making it feel like they're adrift in a pure distillation of each bond #god they are fucking everything and this set is fantastic; sun and moon imagery unparalleled and immaculate

☆ "Stay" by @theamazincactus

#filed under posts I'll reblog in perpetuity until blocked #the way this art still drives me absolutely fucking 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘦 (most affectionate) #how they're floating in this black nothingness as he's just lost and adrift before they gently confront him #at first i almost didn't see Ray (</3) #but nope he's just got himself wrapped around Norman's back as they surround him from both sides dlkfjl 🖤🤍🧡 #because if that isn't the most Ray approach: to offer that silent yet steady comfort; that undying‚ unyielding loyalty #After the powerful declarations they give him in Ch153 #“I've decided that I won't let you kill yourself anymore. That I won't let you go it alone‚ Norman.” #“We don't want a future where you're going to suffer. No matter what result it brings.” #they've gotta be firm because he's so damn obstinate klsfjkls #but underneath that there's the very palpable fear of losing him when they just got him back #and this desperate and gentle and admittedly selfish (but they don't care and they'll accept the consequences) plea #that's so simple yet weighed with so much gravity to speak to the core of his soul and what he wants for himself. “𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑦.” #love how in the midst of all this there's light bathing them from above but not quite engulfing them #as Norman is just on the precipice of this pivotal decision #love how his eyes are the only blue in the pic to highlight how terrified and vulnerable he feels #(his soul is bare before them yet he continues to hesitate in returning either of their holds) #but Ray and Emma accept him in his entirety i'm fucking. love them so much your honor 🖤🤍🧡 #ty so much for sharing this op it's still so appreciated

☆ "look fullscore trio are soulmates and no one– NO ONE – can convince me otherwise." by @salsae

#Phil goes to Harvard and they are the proudest older sibs 🥳 #always love when people incorporate how even when they're older their family is still so v important to them #also cannot overstate how amazing and healing it is to see Norman so carefree to the point where he's willing to dance with them #(it comes as no surprise for Emma‚ but Norman? just getting to be silly without any pretense #after how meticulously he curated the Minerva persona to shield himself? aaah love that for him) #“Emma's living her best life‚ cuddling with her bfs‚ in her bf's jacket‚” #“watching weird (but cute) animal videos w her big giraffe phone case‚ let's just fast-forward to this future thanks” #YES PLEASE WORDS CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TO DESCRIBE HOW MUCH I ADORE THIS MIDDLE PIC 🖤🧡🤍 #just. the pure domesticity and their chaotic arrangement on the couch. and emma being allowed to have hair below her neck #'s beautiful #“Ray is always in the middle for expressions of love‚ but when they're cuddling/in bed Norman is in the middle b/c the other two run warm.” #“Any other time Emma is in the middle” yes yes yeeeeeeesssssssss fully agree #(outside of the middle swapping around for whoever might be in need of some extra tlc on a bad day) #i love the way you get them sm sae 🧡🖤🤍

☆ "more full romo full score trio" by @salsae

#SAE WORDS CANNOT EXPRESS HOW MUCH I ADORE THIS #just. fuuuuuuck i've said this so many times but i love how you get them #the pure adoration in NR's eyes as they look at each other and the way Norman tenderly tilts up Ray's face #meanwhile Emma is a cat personified as she arches her back in content against Ray to nuzzle up to his chin #even her face is scrunched up like one kdfjsd 🧡 #meanwhile the way her hand rests on Norman's‚‚‚🧡🤍 love how the aura around her ring emanates as well #and then the second pic where the boys switch off to making sure she's pampered nestled between them #and the way Ray delicately kisses her freckled shoulder as his fingers are interlaced with Norman's #not with a desperate grip but more lightly as they revel in the sensation of touch #(just love how you drew the hands but esp where the pinkies lay to convey they're in the middle of movement) #all to be expected from a patron saint of REN bless you for this bounty 🙏🧡🤍🖤

☆ "We'll show you something great, so shut up and marry us" by @salsae

#filed under posts I'll reblog in perpetuity until blocked #I still love this piece sm Sae the sunbeams to bless their union and highlight their rings are immaculate #along with imbuing the autumn scene with a cozy warmth while using the contrast of the cool blue sky to make them pop in the foreground #the S1e11/Ch33 callback is nothing short of brilliant with how it was used to connect the three of them #now elevated by Norman being physically present beside RE it is everything. to me. #also will forever champion older Ray sporting a beard like his dad Yuugo :'')

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wilteddreamsofbaldursgate · 1 month ago

Text

Summer Days Gone

Astarion centered || M || 5.7+ words || ao3 || Masterlist

Magistrate Ancunín seldom held private hearings in his office; once granted an open ear, most people overstayed their welcome all too readily, believing their problems to be more significant than they actually were. All too often had he witnessed this ill-mannered behavior, though, once in a while, there were esteemed guests who were eager enough to make his time appropriately worthwhile.

warnings: abuse of power, corruption, semi-graphic descriptions of violence, death, implied sex trafficking, racism, blood. Cazador Szarr.

a/n: Summer Days Gone was written for a server exchange event and I publicly apologize to @ollysoxisfree for publishing her gift two weeks late even though we were given more than enough time to work on our exchange pieces.

Olly, thank you so much for your patience—I sincerely hope you enjoy the read! ♡

And another big thank you to @leomonae for the beta-read!

Magistrate Ancunín nodded along to the lengthy complaints of his guest. His mind had been wandering for a while now, as had his eyes; ever so often he found his gaze straying towards the nameplate crowning his desk, the beautiful star speckled blue irises staring right back at him from the polished metal. Should he wear his new lavender waistcoat for his meeting later that evening? The Magistrate pursed his lips. No, his favorite silver vest would do nicely; it so brought out his eyes and would be just right for the mild sunset hours of early summer.

And besides, it wouldn’t hurt to bring his lucky charm, would it?

“Magistrate?”

Suppressing a frown, Magistrate Ancunín glanced at his guest. Although stout in physique, the Gur woman’s face was gaunt, her black eyes underlined by circles almost as dark. She was visibly troubled, that woman, and, to make matters worse, didn’t look as if she would be taking her leave any time soon.

That was why the Magistrate seldom held private hearings in his office: once granted an open ear, most people overstayed their welcome all too readily, believing their problems to be more significant than they actually were. All too often had he witnessed this ill-mannered behavior, though, once in a while, there were esteemed guests who were eager enough to make his time appropriately worthwhile.

It had taken Magistrate Ancunín only one look at the woman on the far side of his desk to know that she was not one of those guests.

“I was saying—“

“I heard you,” the Magistrate lied. “What I do not understand, though, is why you’ve come to me with your undoubtedly legitimate matter of concern regarding...” He shifted through piles of papers in front of him until he found the letter the woman—what was her name again?—had sent him this past spring. He quickly read over the report, acting as if the little doodles shining in the midnight blue of his signature ink in its margins weren’t there. “The disappearance of—“

“My brothers and sister did not simply disappear, Magistrate,” the woman said, clearly fighting against a scowl threatening to take over her scar-streaked face, as if she were a kind teacher whose patience was finally about to run out. “As I’ve told you repeatedly, they all headed out to investigate a specific location and were never seen again.”

With a mix of amusement and growing irritation Magistrate Ancunín considered the woman’s practical braids and worn hunter’s garb, the cheap boots leaving dust all over his new carpet. Who did she think she was? “With all due respect, that rather sounds like occupational hazard to me.”

The woman tilted her head; there was a grin on her lips now that could only be described as annoyingly victorious. “So you do agree that there is a monster prowling the Upper City—one powerful enough to ‘disappear’ my most skilled hunters?”

Magistrate Ancunín, overplaying his surprise with a scoff, let his eyes dart to the letter in front of him yet again. He hadn’t been aware that the Gur had vanished from the Upper City, in fact, it was the first time he’d heard about it. But, now that he read the woman’s—Varra, if he’d deciphered her signature correctly—letter more thoroughly, he had to admit she’d mentioned that very detail a number of times.

The Magistrate’s heartbeat quickened. This surely was interesting—inconveniently so.

If only to keep his hands busy, Magistrate Ancunín took up his swan feather quill. Its golden tip caught the afternoon sun pouring into his office through the high south-facing windows. Their new brocade curtains would be delivered soon, as would the new furniture for his townhouse. The Magistrate thought about the jewelry that had yet to be picked up from the shop, and, most of all, he thought about his upcoming meeting.

Slowly, he glanced up at Varra again. It occurred to him that she’d been observing his every move; if he wasn’t careful, this meeting could very well turn into a problem he couldn’t afford. Not now. Not because of the Gur.

Magistrate Ancunín leaned back in his chair, forcing his spine into a straight line as he stoically met Varra’s hardening gaze. The Gur would only become a problem if he let them.

And he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

“I agree with the City Watch’s findings that there’s no evidence whatsoever that your people have been, well, what? Been abducted? Murdered? Eaten by carnivorous butterflies?” The sneer in his voice didn’t seem to impress Varra much, prompting the Magistrate to go on with the same bored tone he usually reserved for petty criminals entirely beneath him. Their cases weren’t much different from this one to begin with, the Magistrate told himself. The Gur weren’t worth his precious time. “There are no monsters in Baldur’s Gate.”

Varra shook her head, but before she could voice her protest, the Magistrate raised his hand dismissively, silencing words he didn’t care to hear.

“I understand that a city free of monsters is compromising the livelihood of your people, but have you considered that, maybe, it is time you took your business elsewhere? Somewhere you’re actually needed? I hear there are plenty—”

“Do you know why I came to you with my concerns, Magistrate Ancunín?” Varra’s demeanor had changed. Whatever little glimpses of impatience the Magistrate had been able to catch in her face before were now well concealed behind a nonchalant little smile; in the blink of an eye, the shabby woman across from him had turned into a seasoned diplomat whose every word was calculated and every thought a mystery.

It was the tightly clenched fist at her side that gave the illusion away.

Magistrate Ancunín, although rather new to his position, had seen his fair share of people just like Varra: stubborn people. Desperate people. People who didn’t know when to submit. This woman had come to say her part, and, like the dying clinging onto life, she wouldn’t leave until her last words were heard. The Magistrate sighed, knowing from experience that humoring her would eventually bring a speedy end to this irritating meeting. “Do enlighten me.” “I’ve been watching you.” The Magistrate raised an eyebrow, but Varra only continued, unfazed. “Unlike many, you haven’t come to this city in search of power.” “And what am I searching for, if not power?” Varra considered him, the beautiful elf sitting behind his stately desk, his neatly tied hair and manicured hands. She watched intently as Magistrate Ancunín shifted in his seat.

“Life,” she mused after a moment, never letting him out of sight. “I thought—hoped, really—to have found a kin in you, for we, too, have come to this city looking for life. A good life.”

The Magistrate’s lips tensed into the sorry semblance of a smirk. “A good life that depends on the death of others?”

Varra let out a laugh, short and high. It never reached her eyes. “The death of monsters, yes.”

An uncomfortable silence settled in the room, only broken by the way the Magistrate’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. Embarrassed, he wondered whether the woman could hear how much she’d rattled him. The rustling sound of paper dispelled the silence as the Magistrate lazily shifted through the stacks of notes, documents and letters on his desk again; anything to keep his hands busy. Anything to break the silence.

Eventually, feeling uncomfortably small under the Gur’s observant gaze, Magistrate Ancunín cleared his throat. “If there is nothing more to say, madame, I’m afraid I must ask you to leave. I’m rather busy, as you can see...”

Varra stared at him blankly, her mouth twitching with anger and more words she undoubtedly wanted to let go but, to the Magistrate’s surprise, she turned out to be a reasonable woman after all. The only thing that passed her lips was a gentle sigh.

“Pity.” And Varra was right: it was a pity, indeed, but Magistrate Ancunín didn’t know that—not yet, though he would soon enough. For now, he only felt a deep sense of relief watching Varra rise from her chair. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of any service to you, but know I do wish you and your people the best.” The words sounded dishonest even to the Magistrate himself but, thankfully, Varra didn’t comment on them. Instead, she just gave a curt nod of good-bye; the diplomat in her had been replaced by the warrior who knew when she’d lost her fight.

And she was just about to take her leave when she suddenly froze in the movement, prompting Magistrate Ancunín to follow her gaze to a thick envelope on his desk. Recognizing its broken seal, he felt the tips of his pointy ears turn red at once.

“Have you met the master of that house, Magistrate?” Varra asked flatly.

There was no need to clarify which house she’d meant; as sinister as a drop of blood on freshly fallen snow, the lavish letter S stamped into crimson wax loomed right between them. “I haven’t had the pleasure yet, no,” the Magistrate admitted against his better judgment, his voice softer than it needed to be in his own office. “Not personally.”

A moment of silence passed, then another. Then—startling the Magistrate—Varra laughed once, sharply, and this time, it actually reached her black eyes.

“You’re a perfect fool, Astarion Ancunín,” the Gur grinned. “But I suppose so am I.” Before the Magistrate could protest Varra’s insolence, she wordlessly headed for the door, though she did look back once—not at the Magistrate, no, but at the tall windows. In the distance, the afternoon sun bathed the Gate in a golden light; a promise for all the bright days yet to come.

“Summer is fading fast,” Varra said, almost to herself, before, at last, the door fell shut behind her.

Magistrate Ancunín’s shoulders slumped; it took him longer than he would have liked to compose himself. But, eventually, his heartbeat calmed.

He scoffed.

What a foolish woman, that Gur! She knew nothing—she was nothing. He would show her soon enough.

But first, the Magistrate had to hurry, lest he be late for his meeting; he couldn’t afford to let his generous clients wait.

Muttering profanities to himself, he opened a desk drawer and dumped the cursed Gur’s letter inside where it could mingle with unpaid bills and other forgotten correspondence. The letter with the crimson seal vanished in Magistrate Ancunín’s briefcase before he stood, stretching his aching spine. It was time to go.

Summer was just about to begin.

Astarion licked little beads of sweat from his upper lip, tasting the heady remnants of a fleeting lover’s kiss. Even this close to midnight, the sweltering heat of the past day lingered in the Upper City’s cobbled streets and dark alleyways, only to be disrupted by the rare breeze carried up all the way from the bay.

Astarion inhaled deeply as he sauntered through his neighborhood, his shadow dancing around him in the soft glow of the streetlights. Almost greedily did he take in the scents of warm stone and perfumed garments, late night dinners and powdered skin; music and laughter seeping freely into the night through ever opened windows. Those made up the deliciously noisy composition of Baldur’s Gate—his city.

Astarion grinned widely. His spirits were heightened not only by the alcohol in his bloodstream but the money in his pockets, the weight his name carried now. Astarion’s eyes wandered to the rings on his fingers that reflected the star speckled sky high above. Was that the limit to his good fortune?

Amused, he shook his head. No, it was impossible, preposterous even, to imagine that this giddy feeling, this visceral happiness he’d found in Baldur’s Gate, could ever come to an end.

Astarion was drunk on life and deeply in love with this city, and nothing could ever change that. He’d worked too hard for this life—this good life. Whoever wanted to take it from him would have to rip it from his cold, dead hands.

Another breeze tugged gently at his silken tunic as Astarion passed a group of elven ladies and gentlemen enjoying the midsummer night. The sweet smoke of their pipes made his head spin pleasantly. The young magistrate should join them, they said; inviting smiles and glassy eyes of every shape and color followed his every move. How very kind—but, alas, can’t do. Long day ahead tomorrow! Next time, yes! For sure, next time! Thank you. It will be a pleasure. Good night. Astarion threw the group his most charming smile as he walked by, dropping it only after he’d rounded the next corner. Who did these fools think he was? Important men like him didn’t waste entire nights prowling the streets; he wasn’t some common alley cat.

Not wanting to let the rude encounter dampen his mood, Astarion quietly tried to recite a poem he’d read just the other day. Working against the tides of alcohol swirling inside his head, the words came to him strangely slow as he made his way down the street. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. The sound echoed from the shuttered windows of opulent townhouses and neatly paved sidewalks before it faded into silence.

Silence.

Astarion paused. Only now did he realize how quiet the night around him had grown, how empty, how colorless. The streetlights had gone out, tinting his way home in varying shades of gray. With pursed lips, Astarion strolled on. It wasn’t like he needed any light to guide him home; if he squinted he could see the iron gate to his house some way ahead. It was still bothersome, though, this darkness—did nobody care to do their job anymore?

A gust of wind caressed the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. He stood taller. Not a second could have passed before Astarion heard what sounded like a coin hitting stone, the faint clinking sound reinforced by the unusually quiet night.

Instinctively, Astarion’s eyes scanned the sidewalk around his feet, while his hand went to his coin purse, finding it intact. With furrowed brows, he glanced over his shoulder. All he could see were an empty street and sleeping houses, a rat scurrying from one alley to the next.

Then he heard the same sound again, another coin hitting the ground.

Astarion jerked his head in the direction of the sound; he felt a sudden chill.

The sound hadn’t come from behind him, but from ahead.

Frozen to the spot, Astarion stared into the gray-scaled darkness with narrowed eyes.

There was movement somewhere in the shadows a few feet to his right; he’d only noticed it a heartbeat before he heard another coin hit the pavement. Astarion flinched. There was no doubt—someone was lingering in the dark alleyway separating him from the iron gate of the next house. His house.

I’ve been watching you…

The Gur’s words had stuck with Astarion from the moment they’d first passed her lips all those weeks ago. Every now and then, they echoed in his skull, steadily growing louder as summer progressed.

Not daring to blink, Astarion reached for the mean little dagger he kept concealed at his side. Another coin fell. He stared at the mouth of the alleyway, making out a shadow that appeared just a hue darker than the rest, growing in size—stretching towards the street. Towards him. Astarion considered his options. Should he attack, or run? He had nimble feet, he could easily outrun an assailant. The shadow was now big enough to pour out into the street. With the element of surprise, Astarion thought, he could take it up with one or two of them. If not, he could at least stall them and make enough of a commotion to wake the neighbors and alert a Watch on patrol, or—

The shadow rushed at Astarion before he could make a decision. In the blink of an eye, it had reached him. Its warm, sticky fur grazed Astarion's ankle; he cursed and promptly reached down to grab the shadow’s long tail before it could scurry past him.

Heat rose in his cheeks as Astarion glared at the fat, squirming rat he held an arms-length away from his face. He felt like a fool. Of course there were no Gur in the Upper City; somewhere in the Court’s grand archives, a recent ruling had made quite sure of that. Astarion’s midnight blue signature had looked so pretty on the fine paper.

He let out a shaking breath.

They couldn’t hurt him—not here. In his beloved city, Astarion was safe.

He simply didn’t know better, yet.

“Excellent reflexes, rat-catcher. Bravo!”

Astarion wasn’t sure whether the shriek of surprise had come from the pest in his hand, or from his own lips as he spun around. There, but a few steps from him, a gentlemanly figure stood, its amused face the palest shade of gray Astarion’s eyes were able to perceive amongst the dense shadows of the night.

His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the figure. It took him a moment to recognize the stranger as the pale elf he’d spotted amongst the nightly crowds filling the Upper City every now and then; his thin voice didn’t match his haughty looks, Astarion found, nor the odd intensity in his eyes.

A sudden chill raised the fine hairs on the back of Astarion’s neck as he followed the stranger’s gaze; appalled, Astarion let go of the rat.

The animal darted off after it had barely hit the ground, vanishing in the same dark alleyway it had come from but a moment ago. Not meeting the stranger’s eyes, Astarion cleared his throat. “A plague, those rats,” he said, trying and failing to hide the nervous timbre in his voice.

The stranger gave a short laugh. It echoed mockingly in Astarion’s ears.

“A plague, indeed. But with an expert such as you around there is no need to worry about rats, no?”

Before Astarion could think of a reply, the stranger bid him good-night with little more than an arrogant nod of his head. The elf passed by Astarion, his lips curled into a satisfied grin as he, too, vanished in the alleyway ahead.

A moment passed in which Astarion tried to collect himself. Where an almost absurd dread had settled in his stomach before, he now felt anger rise. The audacity! Who did that elf think he was, to mock him like this? He wasn’t some witless boy, he was the esteemed Magistrate Ancunín—smart, beautiful and important!

Rat-catcher…

Ears burning, Astarion moved on. If his tongue hadn’t been weighted down by alcohol, he would’ve shown that pasty dog exactly who he was—who he could be. The elf might’ve rattled him, yes, but only because…he had heard something odd before he’d had his run in with that rat, hadn’t he?

Only a step into the reaching shadows cast by the mouth of that cursed alleyway, Astarion hesitated. With furrowed brows, he listened. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a cat hiss. Crystal glasses shattering on cobblestones. Far-away laughter. The soothing noise of Baldur’s Gate.

Absent was the sound that had caught his attention before: coins dropping onto the empty street, one after another…It occurred to Astarion that neither the pale elf nor the rat could’ve made that sound.

Craning his neck, Astarion dared a careful look into the shadows. The alleyway laid dark and empty, free of any sign of life. Free of any danger—as it should be. As it had been all along. There was nothing to fear in Baldur’s Gate.

Only one thing caught his eye.

With a smooth, fluid motion Astarion darted into the shadows, picking up three gold coins from the ground. For a moment, they felt pleasantly warm in the sweaty palm of his hand before he added them to the heavy coin purse at his side.

Astarion hurried home.

He was grateful to hear his front door close behind him; elated by the color returned to his vision. In the sparse candlelight of his entryway, Astarion let his shoulders fall before he raked a hand through his curls. They stuck to the cold sweat lingering on his temples, the nape of his neck. Astarion sighed, wondering if the past night had left its marks on him.

He took a look at the mirror on the wall. Star speckled blue eyes stared right back at him from a face that was as beautiful as ever.

Were it not for the rusty red stain on his cheekbone.

Frowning, Astarion raised a hand to his face, only now noticing there was half-dried blood on them and—oh!—on his tunic, too. What a shame, Astarion thought, he would never get the stains out of the fine silk…

With a shrug, Astarion wiped his hands clean on the cool fabric. He could just have a new tunic made—dozens of them.

After all, there was no end in sight to the sweltering midsummer heat.

There was autumn in the air; he could tell by the crisp salty breeze reaching him from the harbor. It was still faint, the change of seasons, dominated by the stench of fish and waste and iron—but it was there nonetheless, unyielding.

He shivered.

The wind tugged at the silver curls that were plastered to his face. It was an irritating sensation—he hated when someone messed with his hair—but not as much as the boiling wetness gathering in his lungs. Breathing was strangely difficult, though he couldn’t be sure what exactly had caused the inconvenience. Whatever it was, the part of his brain that was at odds with the tears streaming down his face supposed it didn’t really matter anyway. Not anymore.

He coughed.

The puddle under his cheek slowly turned a darker shade of gray. On its surface, he watched the star speckled sky ripple—whether it was by his labored breath or the spit and blood leaking from his body, he didn’t know. Maybe it was the fat rat deigning to keep him company.

Were those tiny feet able to rattle the stars? If so, its hunger was understandable, justified, even. A good life didn’t come without a cost.

Curious eyes observed the rat as it gingerly gnawed at the side of a crushed hand. Dark ink stained the crooked fingers, or maybe it was blood. Neither was ever easy to wash off. Could the rat eat it away, or did the stain seep through skin all the way to the bone?

A strange sound echoed through the dark alleyway. Somewhere, someone sobbed.

What a proper fool, he thought, how embarrassing it must be to die in the gutter!

But, to his luck, an idea occurred to him as he listened closely. He had heard that noise, so maybe someone else had heard it, too. Nobody had answered his cries, but everybody knew that fortune favored fools—if they could be saved, why couldn’t he?

The rat scurried away with a sudden shriek.

It wasn’t good fortune that made the starlit puddle tremble now, though the Fool wholeheartedly believed it was—as was his nature.

Soon, he would be schooled in the intricacies of his folly. For now, though, he tried not to choke on the blood gathering in his throat.

A pair of shiny boots entered the Fool’s field of fading vision; it took all his strength to raise his tired eyes, behold the person who would surely be his savior. Met with an oddly intense gaze, the Fool thanked all the gods that would hear him.

“Pity.”

He recognized that thin voice; this time, he found it matched the disgust written all over that pale face.

The broken hand in the puddle didn’t move, even when the Fool wanted to reach out to his savior; his body had always been smarter than his brains.

“They were watching,” the Fool moaned, convinced he would be heard even when his voice was little more than a whisper. “They were watching me all along.”

The pale elf looked down at him, lips pursed. Unfazed. Maybe he didn’t understand…?

“I say there are monsters in Baldur’s Gate!” The Fool coughed, blood spilling from his mouth, down his chin. It burned hot against the night.

The pale elf licked his lips as he kneeled, careful not to soil his trousers in the black puddle at his feet.

“And they got you, you fool, because you did not care to do your job properly,” he scolded as he roughly brushed a damp lock from the Fool’s forehead. “You cannot just drive the rats out, boy, you have to wipe them out.”

The Boy, though he didn’t quite understand, nodded—at least he thought he did, as stone and dirt dug deeper in his throbbing temple. It seemed like it was the right thing to do; he didn’t want the pale elf to be angry with him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I can do better.”

For what felt like eternity, the pale elf considered him with narrowed eyes.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Please, I’ll be so much better.”

The Boy would’ve said anything, promised anything, and would’ve meant every word. Surely his savior could see that?

“I suppose I can give you another chance, then,” the pale elf mused, finally. “If you really think you can do it.”

“Thank you.” The Boy’s body trembled with a sob. “I can do it. Thank you!”

Long, pale fingers caressed his tender cheek, but the Boy didn’t flinch, even when they were as cold as the air, the cobblestones. Death. So unnaturally cold. It was summer, still, wasn’t it? Hadn’t he felt the sun warm his skin when it rose over the Gate only this morning?

Maybe it was the gaudy sigil ring the Boy could glimpse on his savior’s finger—the opulent letter S—that made him think of crimson blood on freshly fallen snow. Yes, snow. So very cold…

Have you met the master of that house?

The Boy hadn’t—not personally, no. Not then.

He had now.

“And you promise to be my good little rat-catcher?”

His body spasmed.

“Answer me.” The pale elf leaned over him, engulfing him in a veil of darkness. “Will you be good?”

“Very good, yes,” the Rat-Catcher promised. His head rested heavily against the cold, pale hand; it did nothing to expel the feverish heat from his skin. “The best. I promise.”

“‘I promise, Master’,” the pale elf corrected, claws as sharp as his tone digging into the Rat-Catcher’s jaw.

“I promise, Master.”

“Good,” Master Szarr sighed. “Do not disappoint me again, boy.”

It was music to the Boy’s ears. Never in his life would he dare to disappoint the Master—he swore it to himself! And so he smiled when the Master’s face slowly crept towards his own. The Boy studied the porcelain skin of his savior, so pale that it was the lightest shade of gray in the night. A smirk, stretched impossibly thin. Intense eyes boring into his own…

But for a moment, the Boy glanced away; gray eyes meeting the star speckled sky, wet at the tip of his nose. It drenched his face and his hair, his favorite silver vest. Could he have a new one made? This one was quite ruined, he feared.

A warm swell of blood came over his lips once more. His entire world—dark alleyways and cobbled stone; cold breezes and blood, so much blood!—could be contained on the surface of one stinking black puddle.

But he was more than that, wasn’t he? He had been so much more only this morning.

He was Magistrate Ancunín—smart, beautiful and important!

He’d been unable to outrun the Gur.

He was dying.

But Master Szarr would save him; although mysterious, he’d always been such a generous client.

There was nothing else that mattered now—Astarion would live, somehow.

He sighed, focusing on the colorless eyes that danced with the stars in the reflected night sky. His eyes were blue, like his signature ink. It looked so pretty on fine paper. The beaten and broken visage frowning back at him from the trembling surface of his world did not. Who did that ugly thing think it was, gaping at him like that?

Astarion tried to ignore that face, but there was nothing else to see.

Nobody else.

That couldn’t be right; he could feel Master Szarr’s weight on him, long fingers tugging at his ruined clothes, a cold tongue licking over his blood-stained lips, but still…

The pale elf did not cast a reflection.

Astarion whimpered; from shock or the pain coming from his fractured spine as he tried to push away, he didn’t know.

He was corrected at once.

Szarr tut-tutted, pinning him down with little effort. Dying or not, Astarion had never stood a chance against this creature, though this didn’t keep him from trying. He grasped at the creature’s hair, tried to scratch its pale, blood-streaked face with broken nails. Bit the creature’s lips as it lapped up the blood around his mouth.

More than anything, Astarion wanted to live; he always had.

The creature laughed.

“My, my! Little liar, you promised to be good but a moment ago, did you not?”

No, not like this!

“If you do as I say, this need not hurt.”

No, I don’t believe you!

“Enough!”

Never.

“As you wish.” Szarr grabbed his jaw again, forcing Astarion’s head off the ground before he slammed it back against the cobblestone, not unlike the Gur had done a while ago. Bone cracked; Astarion wailed. Claws raked through his blood-streaked curls, scratching at his scalp. “Yes, let me hear how sweet those screams sound, boy.”

The creature opened its maw, exposing a pair of long, sharp fangs. They gleamed under the starlight, reflecting a pair of horrified gray eyes.

In that moment—the Magistrate, the Fool, the Boy, the Rat-Catcher, the Liar—they all wished Astarion had just died a good death when he’d still had the chance.

He screamed when the creature sank its teeth into the side of his neck.

No, please.

The creature chuckled, greedily taking its fill of what little life the Gur had left him.

Please, help.

A gentle breeze carried his screams from the gutter all the way to the Upper City.

The creature tore at his throat. How much blood did he have left to spill, how much pain was there to feel?

If his beloved Baldur’s Gate had ever heard him, his agony must not have been worth its time; it mocked him only with silence.

He laid still, at last.

Summer was fading fast…

And so was Astarion Ancunín.

Nimble feet carried the Spawn through damp corridors. Across the drafty entry hall. Into cold, busy streets. He scanned the bleak evening sky; if he were alive, his heart would skip a beat. How late it was already! He had to hurry now—the way to the Upper City was steep, and he couldn’t let his clients wait, oh no.

Punctuality was of utmost importance. He couldn’t embarrass the Master, not again.

With a shudder, the Spawn straightened the stiff collar of his cape; the wool was rough against his ashen skin. He tugged it closer around him anyway. He had earned the cape for bringing the Master that glassy-eyed elf, the first of his many clients—the one who had made his head spin with her stinking pipe.

Who had that bitch thought she was when she’d messed up his curls, pushed his face against the cold tiles of her room; this bitch, this rat—easy prey. The Master had instructed him well.

The Spawn shook his head. Sometimes, when he was very still, he could still hear the elf’s screams echoing inside his skull. They hadn’t been as sweet as his, the Master had said, disappointed. Why must he always disappoint him so? He didn’t do it on purpose, he promised, but the Master did not care for idle talk, oh no.

Master Szarr was an important man. Very busy. Best not waste his time.

Frowning, the Spawn scurried past dark alleyways, over wet cobblestones. Somewhere in the shadows, a rat squeaked. He licked his lips, but—oh no, no—no time for that.

The Master had forbidden him to even think of eating before his job was done.

A sharp gust tugged at his ill-fitting cape; the Spawn stood a little taller against the wind. He wasn’t supposed to slouch, but he’d always had a weak spine—not that he would tell the Master that, oh no, he so hated excuses.

The Spawn rounded a corner. Heavy fur coats hiding red-nosed faces pushed past him, the overwhelming symphony of their heartbeats echoing from the shuttered windows of opulent townhouses and neatly paved sidewalks. The Spawn pulled the hood of his cape deeper around his face, lest someone recognize who he was.

Had been.

In every shadow, the noise of life prevailed. The Spawn could hear blood pumping through living bodies, so many of them—so much blood. The Master drank his fill every night; sometimes, the Spawn picked such a delectable feast for him that the Master allowed him to drain a small alley cat. Very kind of him, oh yes.

Night had stolen the last bits of color again, tinting the city in scales of gray; the Spawn had reached his client’s house just in time. They wouldn’t be so generous, he knew, not tonight. Not to him, oh no.

The Spawn hesitated to knock at the door.

The truth was, there were monsters in this city. From the docks to the highest tower in the courthouse, in every alleyway. In all those fine houses. Behind every iron gate. From every black eye that watched him, a monster stared back. It was the only reflection the Spawn was granted to look at.

Slowly, he tilted his head back. Crimson eyes lost themselves in the murky puddle that was the night sky. From it, the palest shade of gray danced through the sky. It fell gently towards the dirty streets of Baldur’s Gate—a blood stain amongst freshly fallen snow.

Astarion still loved this city, he always would; it just so happened that the city didn’t love him back. It never had.

Brushing the snow off his shoulders, the Spawn sighed.

Summer had gone by so fast.

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drawinglin · 5 months ago

Note

Hello. Regarding Hellraiser III, I seem to recall you making a comment about how you believed Elliott and Unbound!Pinhead to be physical manifestations of Freud's model of the psyche - super-ego and id respectively. I am in total agreement with you there, and I have believed this same thing for a long time now. This would also make normal 'Bound' Pinhead that we meet in the first two films, and the films following Bloodline, to be the actual Ego itself. I think this makes the third film, and the characterisations so much more interesting, rather than doing what the early 90s HR comics did, which was to have Pinhead be an Aztec 'demon' who possesses Elliott, making them separate people altogether. That's boring and predictable, and just goes against everything that the movies established in the earlier films for Pinhead. By having Unbound and Elliott be one and the same, just different aspects of the same man, which is basically what HR is about - our deepest, darkest desires explored and enhanced, it builds on the HR mythology. This is why I've always loved HR3, and why I don't think it's a bad film, and why I just adore Unbound as a character. This is Pinhead off the leash. I still believe that Unbound would still be very fond of Kirsty, and still would be driven to protect her in some way. Even without his human side. But for the most part, he would be super eager to have her join him. Though he'd treat her much differently than he did the club patrons. I don't think the love/lust for Kirsty comes from just his human side. It comes from all of him.

Anyway, I thought I'd share my thoughts on the matter with you. I found this online regarding id, ego, super-ego, and it reminded me of the boys even more so. Maybe you could draw something out of this? It's an idea. I love your art. Keep up the good work! :)

Your analysis of Unbound and Elliot is exactly what I was thinking. It almost makes me cry. I’ve always found it hard to dislike HR3 for this reason. After watching the HR1 and HR2, I felt that human desires and darkness are what truly terrify us. So when I discovered that HR3 split the Hell Priest into two characters, I was super excited.

The human version of Elliot is relatively mature; after all, he carries the memories and burdens from his time as a human, as well as the PTSD of being a survivor of World War I. He is also someone who adheres strictly to rules. I guess this leadership quality and personality is what attracted Leviathan to him, eventually leading him to become the priest managing hell. In the moment of their separation, the repressed desires, dark sides, and nature of the human were individually extracted, like a newly born child without constraints. They both possess things that the other lacks. I’m really looking forward to their journey of hatred and self-destruction gradually turning into understanding, culminating in a new interpretation of a single person. It’s amazing! But unfortunately, HR3 didn’t delve into their complex psychological relationship in detail. This regret has made me want to doodle their story.

I was shocked to learn that the comic had mentioned the demon's setting before; I had no idea about that. Thank you for sharing! Like you, I’m more inclined towards the idea of the id and superego!

I agree that Elliot and Unbound have an obsession with Kirsty and surely hope that she would join their ranks as a Cenobite.

But to me,I tend to see their relationship as a complex ambiguity; I imagine it as a sense of distance rather than a romantic interaction. Their conflicts would actually bring them closer together.

For Kirsty, the Hell Priest undoubtedly intervened in her life and indirectly destroyed her family. Even if it started because of someone else’s involvement, he still cast a huge shadow over Kirsty. In their contract relationship, the Hell Priest has let her go multiple times, and Elliot himself has said that Kirsty is his friend. Therefore, I believe they share a relationship that is both contradictory and beautiful!

The existence of their relationship is so enchanting, which is probably why so many people like it!

And thank you for the pictures you provided. I love your thoughts every time you share them; they truly inspire me!🥰❤️ ❤️

#hellraiser #ask #thank you :)

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bignostalgias · 2 years ago

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just thinking about Jack learning Norse the long way without magic after dimension/time traveling to Berk. Rambling nonsense under cut

Ok ok as learning a language takes time and dedication, Jack mostly communicates non-verbally at first and slowly incorporates Norse into his vocabulary. He sporadically gets lessons from the Dragon Riders, but it’s slow-going as there’s always external shenanigans to resolve, and to be honest most of them are poor language teachers (with the exception of Fishlegs, who is very kind to make Jack flashcards to study with). He also visits with Gothi, as she sympathizes with his struggle to be understood, and he picks up on her symbols as they become friends. He thinks of Sandy and feels a pang of homesickness.

Both Jack and Hiccup are very expressive characters who often use exaggerated gestures and expressions to prove a point, so their friendship consists of a lot of pointed looks and unabashed flailing. Rolling their eyes. Goofy smiles. Smiles with Mischievous Intent. Sarcastic deadpans. Reading the tone of each others’ voices. As they become more comfortable with each other (and Jack becomes more comfortable being visible and tangible) this includes Jack holding Hiccup’s hand to lead him somewhere, poking each other to invoke a reaction, Hiccup steering Jack by his shoulders away from trouble, falling asleep haphazardly on top of each other while attempting to study. To an onlooker their conversations are madness.

Hiccup learns English as well as a fair trade. So he can know Jack a little better. So Jack isn’t alone in this. Similar to OTNWAS (fic of all time), he starts using English expressions and slang that Jack introduces him to (“Cool,” he says, drawing out the vowels. Jack nods at him rapidly. He exclaims something incomprehensible to Hiccup - but undoubtedly encouraging from the way his eyes are crinkling at the corners - before repeating, “cool beans,” and gives a double thumbs up. Flashbright smile. “Cool beans,” Hiccup says, still with only a fuzzy understanding of what it means).

Hiccup also spends a lot of time drawing with Jack, as a tool to aid communication and make new flashcards, but more often than not it devolves into stupid Pictionary doodles as Hiccup struggles to interpret Jack’s drawings. (“Uh, is that…. Stormfly?” Hiccup asks, and Jack pulls a face that is both distraught and amused. “So not - oh! That’s an axe! You’re drawing Astrid! Oh gods. I have to show her this, oh gods.” Something about the maniacal glee in Hiccup’s tone must have alerted Jack to his intent, as he received a sharp poke under his ribs as a reply, making him wheeze. In English, Jack says, “whatever you’re thinking, don’t,” and Hiccup, recognizing the last word, bursts into giggles.)

Jack is dedicated to making Hiccup laugh, of course. Jack is very willing to make himself the fool to do so. Toothless is happy to help.

Soon Jack can string Norse sentences together skillfully, drop some vibrant curses, and sing a few ballads as well (the ballads he picked up even before he fully understood them). And because Hijack has taken over my one braincell, Jack tells Hiccup he loves him in Norse after an eternity of fumbling to figure out the right words.

(antique fic trope alert, 5 times Jack tried to tell Hiccup he loved him in Norse +1 time he got it right. someone take me out to a dennys parking lot and break my kneecaps)

#mine #embarrassing. *posts*#frostcup #hijack #has this been done before. it’s nearly 2 am #translations au

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couldawouldashoulda50 · 5 months ago

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Chapter 7 (Bonus chapter) The Inevitable

To try and turn the tide when things aren't going your way, the process of eliminating distractions is often inevitable.

A/N - this is the final "planned" chapter of this series with William and Loren. I have really enjoyed the journey that I found myself on with these two, as I usually just start with a small plot and wing it from there. As always, thank you to those that expressed an interest in this fic - as I have said before, it's massively encouraging and I am always deeply appreciative of the exchanges I have had about it.

@misshoneyimhome - just thank you so, so much. I can't believe we're here. Thank you for all of your notes and thoughts and always showing an interest in Loren and William's path.

Warnings/notes - 18+ - oral (both f and m receiving), intercourse, profanity. I try to proofread for grammar as I go but I think I'm getting worse with it - apologies for any errors.

March 23, 2024

The following morning and still in William’s bed, Loren jumped, startled by the feeling of fur and two cold, wet noses snuffling her cheeks and mouth. Still groggy from what may have been the deepest sleep of her life, she rubbed the soft coats of William’s two doodles as their tails wagged faster than the speed of sound. While her eyes grew heavy and closed once more, she quietly cooed at Pablo and Banksy as they continued their barrage of affection.

Feeling like she was slipping back towards sleep, Loren managed to glance toward a shirtless William as he climbed back into bed.

She bashfully covered her puffy eyes and groaned while William pulled Loren’s naked body against his. Her body began to relax in his strong arms as she breathed him in.

“Pretty tired, eh? I actually tried to wake you up to let you know I was taking the dogs out, but you didn’t even move.”

Loren nestled into William’s body as close as she could get. Her eyelids felt as though there were 500 pound weights attached to them. Her hand traveled up his bare bicep to his shoulder, along the ridges of his oblique and back muscles. Her forehead and her other hand rested comfortably against his chest, only moving her head to caress her lips lightly against his chest hair.

Loren’s voice sounded a little croaky as she spoke. Undoubtedly her raw throat was a result from the dry air in the condo. One could argue however that the cries and moans William drew out of her the night before might be part of the reason as well.

Loren smiled against his chest. “Maybe you just ‘f’d’ me unconscious,” she mumbled.

Silence hung in the air until William chuckled against her hair.

She adjusted her head slightly to allow more air circulation around her face as condensation began to form in William’s chest hair from her warm breath.

Loren resumed stroking William’s back. “I think you have the most comfortable piece of furniture that I have ever slept on. I’ve mostly slept on an old couch for the better part of three years, so sleeping in a bed is a luxury anyway.”

“You have to sleep on a couch?”

Loren sighed contentedly reveling in William’s embrace. “For the overnight shift. It’s a sleep position but you have to get up throughout the night to do rounds so regardless - couch or bed - it’s not the most restful sleep anyway.”

“No wonder why you’re exhausted.” William spoke sympathetically and kissed the top of Loren's head before he continued. “So…I have practice at 9:30 - you can stay until 2 or 3 right?”

Loren nodded.

“Try to go back to sleep then while I'm out. Don’t get up and do anything else…just rest, ok?”

Loren looked up at William’s profile. A mix of giddiness and disbelief washed over her laying next to him as she continued to glide her hand over his body.

Loren kissed William’s neck and spoke suggestively near his ear. “How much time do you have before you have to leave?”

“Mmmmm…. at least an hour, hour-fifteen tops.”

That should be enough Loren thought to herself.

Loren rose slowly, kissing William everywhere except on his mouth. She wanted to spare him her morning breath and wanted to fix it before going anywhere near his lips. She gathered the sheet around her exposed breasts and looked for something on the floor to throw on over her body before heading to the washroom.

Spotting the William’s white dress shirt that was haphazardly tossed from her body last night, Loren began to slide out of bed while dragging the sheet, trying to remain covered up.

William leaned over towards Loren teasingly pulling the sheet off each time she tried to wrap it around herself.

“I already saw you naked…why try and hide it now?” William laughed and decided to tickle Loren to loosen her grip.

Loren shrieked and her body appeared to jolt like she had been zapped with a current of electricity.

“William….pleeeeease….I haaaaaate being tickled,” Loren whined trying to weave around William’s menacing hands. “And you were otherwise occupied when I was naked in front of you last….now you’re not, and you’re gonna see how gravity works when I’m standing,” Loren said, half giggling when she gazed at how fucking cute William looked.

Loren slid off the bed with the sheet covering most of her. It was still open enough at the back for William to sneak a peek at her shapely bare ass.

Loren slid William’s shirt on doing up a few of the buttons and placed the sheet back on the bed.

“Be back in a sec.”

William laid back and yawned as his own tiredness washed over him and quickly drifted off into a light sleep.

Loren smiled when she returned and saw the three boys passed out on the bed. William lightly snored with his mouth hanging open, and she used the opportunity to closely study his features.

Every now and then, the reality of spending time with a star athlete overwhelmed her, giving her a mix of excitement and gloom.

The feeling of excitement had already reached points of exhilaration for Loren. William was affectionate, kind, funny and she found him wildly intriguing. Throughout the past week, he treated her better than she could have even dreamt of herself.

The gloom had settled deep within her. Loren now trusted her instincts, which she had ignored in the past. Her instincts warned her that whatever she and William were doing was temporary and unlikely to last.

In the few seconds she took to watch him sleep, she decided to go all in with William. To feel everything intensely, both the good and the bad, regardless of what their end game would be.

Loren neatly laid William’s shirt on a chair and slid nude under his overstuffed duvet. Without opening his eyes, William reached over, touching the curve of her waist.

Loren’s pulse quicken with the thoughts of taking William in her mouth. She placed gentle kisses around his jawline and neck, and William moaned contentedly, willing her to keep going.

Loren’s voice was gentle and sweet as she spoke between kisses. “Can I try something? All you have to do lay there and relax.”

William purred something in the affirmative. He thought maybe she wanted to massage him or….fuck….

Loren had already kissed and tongued a path to William’s navel as her hands sensually glided over the expanse of his chest and sides. He opened his eyes to see her back arched and her round ass in the air, while her hair fell to the side of her back.

Loren didn’t want to rush anything, but she desperately wanted William’s soft cock to grown harder in her mouth. She could already feel it twitching in his shorts.

She pulled the elastic waistband just far enough down to free his cock, which Loren was pleased to see that it was still mostly soft and pliable. Loren had an impressively long tongue, and William’s body immediately tensed when she licked a long strip from his balls to the tip of his cock, and then immediately took his whole member in her mouth.

William exhaled deeply while moaning at the same time. All he could muster was “Fuuuuuuuck….Loren…”

Loren gently tongued and sucked the around the tip of his cock, dipping her tongue in the slit to get her first taste of his arousal. Moving further down, her mouth explored each of his balls, kissing and lapping at each while her other hand fondled his shaft. She adjusted her body comfortably between William’s legs, easing his thick, muscular thighs to open a little more.

Loren took her time and paid close attention to every reaction William had when she touched him. He was exceptionally manscaped, and Loren pleasingly ran her nails through his trimmed hair while placing open mouth kisses along the soft flesh of his lower abdomen. William moaned as he watched Loren, and a small crooked smile appeared on his face. He considerately tucked wisps of her hair behind her ear as her mouth continued to explore his body below his navel.

With a better view of her face, their eyes locked for a moment as she took his now very rigid and very thick cock in her mouth. Her gaze was full of desire and wanting, focused on pleasuring him with everything she has. In return, William’s eyes darkened with pure lust for her.

Loren's head bobbing up and down his cock were steady and controlled while she fondled his balls and stroked his taint. Her deep brown eyes were fixed on his face as she watched William watching her.

William groaned and leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Loren could see William’s chest and abdomen rise and fall with his rapid breathing, and soon he gathered a mound of her hair in his fist.

Loren’s tongue circled the mushroom shaped head of his cock searching for more of his pre-cum.

She loved the sweet and salty taste of him, and it triggered a much deeper need in Loren. She was now on a mission to taste William’s load, more than once if time allowed.

As she fully engulfed his cock in her mouth, she ran her nails along his flesh around his balls and upper thighs. William’s legs would jolt and flex with the stimulation from Loren’s mouth and her feather touch.

With a grip that was just right, she bit her lip as she alternated between stroking his cock and taking him deep in her mouth. Each time she pumped his shaft, she marveled at the pinkish-purple head and could not stop wrapping her lips around it, slurping it like it was a dripping popsicle.

As Loren worked William’s member with the dual forces of her mouth and her hand, his lower abdomen started to quiver. Low guttural moans became more frequent until William reached a final crescendo, and Loren felt and tasted his cum in her mouth. Loren moaned as the grip William had of her hair made her pussy clench hard. She arched her back and imagined William railing her hard with that same grip that he had of her hair.

William began to shudder as Loren kept going after he came. With the oral cream pie she just received dripping down his cock, Loren hollowed her cheeks as she bobbed on his shaft once more. William began to tighten and flex his legs and ankles as Loren hit a new level of sorcery with her mouth.

Loren moaned against William’s thickness, and even surprised herself with deepthroating him while stroking her tongue against his prominent veins, not even gagging in the process.

William seemed to be equally impressed as not long after his first orgasm, he climaxed hard in her mouth again. The sound he made was indescribably arousing to Loren, as could help but to stroke herself while she licked him almost clean.

Loren smiled to herself as she viewed this beautiful, muscle-bound Swede which she rendered completely defenseless (in that moment anyway) as he lay sprawled out before her, like an upside down starfish.

She ran her hands across up his thighs and placed light kisses along his ribcage as she leaned over top of him. His hands, slowly coming to life, smoothed over her taut back muscles and up across Loren’s shoulder blades.

William’s lips barely moved as he spoke. “You’re not as innocent as I thought,” he mumbled jokingly. “C’mere….fuck, I don’t wanna leave.”

William wrapped his arms around Loren, pulling her body on top of his, virtually in the same position she climaxed in the night before. Loren’s core certainly remembered that moment, as she fought the urge to slide onto his cock and start riding him.

Speaking as she kissed his chest, Loren softly retorted. “It’s your fault - I was sweet and innocent until you did what you did to me last night.”

“Hey…you were in charge, not me…” William replied chuckling softly.

The two melted into each other as their pulse and breathing returned to normal.

Loren was the first to shift and move; she was not going to be the reason if William ended up rushing to for practice. Unbothered by the time, William seemed to be getting ready for a nap instead of getting ready to leave. She watched him drift off, jolt himself awake and then drift off again.

He still had a decent amount of minutes before he needed to be out the door, so Loren offered to set a timer to let him sleep for another 20 minutes, hoping it would be just enough to shake off his drowsiness.

It seemed to work. When the alarm sounded, William eyes, albeit still a little heavy, opened and he growled a little as he stretched out the rest of his tiredness.

In mere minutes, William was dressed and ready to depart. He apologized to Loren for the lack of sustenance in his fridge or pantry and told her he would bring back something after he was done at the rink. He kissed Loren, which he had to stop abruptly as it quickly escalated to a down-right sultry exchange.

After William had left, Loren’s adrenaline from giving him two orgasms had dissipated. After a short shower, she quickly washed the dishes they used the night before (total force of habit). Loren returned to bed, and as she snuggled with the dogs, she found herself drifting off to sleep almost immediately. By the time William texted her, she was already deep in slumber (he feigned poutiness in his message that he arrived to the arena early and he could have spent more time in bed).

◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈

On the way back home, William tried to avoid getting irritated with the Saturday morning traffic, but there were moments that he just couldn’t help it. Yes, he wanted to see Loren as spend as much time with her as possible before she left for work. He also realized that nothing had been established for them to see each other past that point which needed to be resolved soon.

All of that aside, the irritation stemmed from the panic that had set in when he had to also acknowledge that he left Loren, a woman he still did not know well - alone in his condo with his dogs for an extended period of time.

William had no issues with leaving Loren initially. She thrilled him, captivated him and he felt her could trust her implicitly. It wasn’t until the question period about her began after practice with some of William's teammates. Right then, reality hit William that he had just met her a week ago. Despite feeling like he had known her for years, there were still so many unknowns about her.

For all he knew, she could be posting his building location or worse, his address, across all the socials. She could be going through his things. If she were to walk out the door with Pablo and Banksy, would security let him know?

That last thought put his dogs are the forefront of the panic in his mind and William raced home as fast as traffic would allow.

With the slight turn of the lock on his door, his dogs came bounding out of the bedroom to see him. Instant relief washed over him as he greeted each dog while setting the food and drinks he brought home on the kitchen counter. He noticed the dishes had been washed and the dish cloths and towels were neatly folded by the sink.

Loren still had not stirred, even with the commotion the dogs always made when William walked in. He went to the washroom and noticed whatever Loren had used, she tidily returned it to its spot. It made him smile as the haze of uncertainty he was feeling began to lift.

Passing through his bedroom, he stopped to look at Loren and chuckled to himself. As she slept on her stomach with her arms bent under the pillow, Loren released long and low snores, occasionally mumbling gibberish. Her body suddenly flinched at nothing and while shifting in bed, the most of the bed sheet fell away, leaving her naked body partially exposed.

William couldn’t take his eyes off the roundness of her breasts pressed against the mattress. He intended to cover her back up with the blanket, but instead, he climbed on the bed himself and smoothed his warm hands up along her naked spine while cooing softly in her ear, hoping it would not jar her. As she resurfaced from the depths of her sleep-world, she immediately felt the warmth of William next to her and a smile crept across her face.

Loren arose and the two just enjoyed each other's company and some delicious breakfast options he brought home from the arena.

Having been upright just long enough, Loren was coaxed back to bed to join the Swede for his nap.

However, given it was now noon, William apparently had plans to make her pussy his second pre-nap meal.

Loren initially giggled and yelped as William propped himself overtop of her body and buried his face against her neck. The feel of his stubble was both abrasive and soft as he moved his mouth along her throat, tantalizing and arousing her beyond measure.

When her eyes met his, she saw that William was not smiling. The sinfully beautiful forward meant business. The intensity of his expression was almost a warning - if she thought he was good to her last night….she'd better get ready and brace herself now.

And brace herself is what she did. Loren learned that William was thorough. His hands were described as world class and Loren could definitely attest to that.

Oh, but William’s mouth. William’s mouth and tongue were a gift from the cunnilingus gods.

William wasn’t just good to her. Good was an understatement. So was great, incredible, and beyond imaginable….every single adjective did not do the man justice.

Earth-shattering. Mind-altering. Mind-BENDING.

Even after he masterfully brought her to her first orgasm, when he had to push her legs back as her thighs almost slammed together with his head between them, William was hell bent on giving her even more.

William kissed his way up her body while he continued to ready her entrance with his fingers. He leaned towards her ear, asking her if she’s ok for more and for her to tell him if he gets too rough.

Rough. Loren tripped over that word in her head. Rough sounded amazing. Loren nodded and they kissed through smiles and murmurs of affection.

Loren couldn’t help fixating on his erect cock as it swayed and bounced when William moved and kneeled before her. She loved every second that she had his entire thickness in her mouth earlier, and she salivated looking at his glistening tip, remembering how delicious he tasted.

William laid Loren horizontally across the bed and opened her legs. The care he took when he lifted her one leg over his shoulder left her dizzy and breathless. He kissed along her ankle and calf while he ran his tip up and down through her wet folds.

The sound of Loren's arousal was unmistakable.

Loren used to feel embarrassed when her pussy sounded wet, sticky or a little slurpy. Now she understood, it was a clear signal to the man before her of how much he turned her on. And in turn, William made sure Loren knew how she affected him.

William pressed his tip against Loren's entrance, and with a little extra pressure, he slid his shaft inside of her.

William's thrusts were slow at first but as Loren gripped his ass and became more vocal, soon he was pushing hard and deep inside of her. If it wasn't her blissed-out expression, or the way her hair was spread across the pillow, or the veins and contours of her neck, or the way her tits bounced while he fucked her, or how amazing her pussy felt, or anything else Loren did that drove William wild….

William realized he craved everything about her.

He also realized he was about to cum.

William dropped his head and slowed his thrusts. Loren looked up at William’s face with an air of concern.

She tenderly stroked his stubble with her thumb “Is everyt - are you okay?” Loren asked breathlessly.

“I don't wanna cum yet - but fuck, you feel so fucking good…”

Just above a whisper, Loren encouraged him to keep going. “It’s ok…cum - please William…you’re amazing…and I'm right there - please cum….”

William hesitated and as he slid into her again, he let out an exasperated “fuuuuck….”

William's tempo was steady and the muscles around his abdomen were taut as he climax began to take hold.

He watched Loren's delicate fingers circle rapidly on her clit. He watched her eyes close and how she would grit her teeth and then moan loudly. He could feel her tightening around his cock even more as she gripped his forearms.

But when she pressed her head into the pillow and sank her palms into the mattress, gripping the sheets - when she raised her hips up for William to fuck her harder - when his groaned his name again and again, telling him how incredible he felt - that's when William climaxed deep inside of her.

As William blinked away his light-headedness, he could only assume Loren had reached her own orgasm. Her body was completely limp - the only movement was her breathing.

Even as William kissed her, Loren could only smile and allow her hands to glide across his body. Her energy was zapped and her body and brain weren't quite in sync to even move her head towards him.

Within a handful of minutes however, reality hit that they do have to stay on some kind of scheduled. The pair freshened up, set William's alarm for about 2 hours out (with added time for in the event the snooze button might be pressed), crawled back under the sheets and into the same embrace as earlier that morning.

—

Hours later, Loren pulled up into the parking lot of her workplace. The last 24 hours were nothing short of a fairy tale, and her reality all of a sudden looked completely different.

Kathy had covered for Loren at the beginning of her shift, which allowed for the nap and the extra long good-bye with William. The Leafs were leaving straightaway after the game against Edmonton that evening, and Loren and William were still cross-checking calendars to see when they could see one another again.

Having already left for home when Loren arrived at work, she sent Kathy another “thank you” note, not only for giving her the extra time at William’s but just being all around awesome.

Kathy responded quickly and as she read her message, Loren could hear Kathy ribbing her as though she was there in person.

Have you seen this yet? He looks a little tired. Tired but happy, I’d say.

youtube

Loren opened the link to the pre-game media availability and broke into a wide smile when she saw William. She quickly typed a response.

I just hope has a good game. Maybe he'll score...

Kathy's response was such a Kathy thing to say.

Isn’t that what he was doing with you all night?

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Saturday, April 13, 2024

Loren lightly tapped on Kathy’s front door and expelled a long breath through pursed lips hearing Kathy’s slippers against the tile floor as she approached. Loren wished her friend a quiet “good morning” and a quick hug as she stepped on the mat to remove her shoes.

Loren stopped to hang the garment bag she was returning to Chelsea on a hook by the stairs and then followed Kathy through to the kitchen.

Kathy and Loren had not been scheduled to work together in weeks, and Kathy was chomping at the bit to hear everything that Loren could tell her about her goings-on with William.

Kathy handed Loren a coffee and she settled into her favourite chair in the adjoining living room, patiently awaiting for Loren to spill the beans.

Before Loren even uttered a word, Chelsea skulked down the steps and gave Loren a groggy half-wave as she headed towards the kitchen.

Kathy was the only one from Loren’s world that knew about Loren seeing William, and she was steadfastly private about divulging anything electronically or otherwise.

Naturally, with Chelsea within ear shot, Loren was not exactly able to speak freely, so the two chatted about work, with both women silently hoping Kathy’s daughter will traipse back up the stairs to her bedroom.

Instead, Chelsea plopped herself down on the couch next to Loren with a coffee in her hand.

Apparently, Chelsea wasn’t going back upstairs.

“Oh…Chelse - I brought back all the clothes you let me borrow. Anything I wore is clean, and I made sure there were no marks or scuffs on the shoes. Thank you so much again for helping me with that stuff.”

“Well, I have time….do you wanna go up and pick out some more options? Weather’s getting warmer…..you could show off a little more….”

Kathy nodded her head in agreement as she smiled at her two favourite ladies.

“No - that’s ok….thanks Chelse. I just wanted to make sure I returned this stuff to you…I’ve had it for a bit.”

“C’mon…you even said it yourself…he got hard just by looking at you,” Chelsea said with a smirk followed by a sip of her coffee. “I could totally be your stylist…I would love to dress you up more.”

Loren’s cheeks flushed pink. “I really appreciate it Chelse - I do, but I won’t be needing any clothes like that.” Loren paused and took a deep breath.

Loren gripped her warm mug of coffee until the beds of her fingernails turned white. “The guy - he, well…basically things ended between us last night.”

Chelsea sat up straight. “What the fuck? What a fucking prick…,” she scoffed.

Loren shook her head. “No Chelse…he’s not….it’s -” but before she continued, Kathy interjected.

“Chelsea -sweetie….can I just talk to Loren on my own for awhile, please?”

Chelsea glanced at her mom and then over to Loren. She stood up, leaned over to give Loren a half-hug and silently padded upstairs to her bedroom.

“She’s just in the middle of her own boy stuff….,” Kathy said, shooting a look of sympathy and concern towards Loren. “Do you wanna tell me what happened?”

Loren could feel herself starting to crack.

Loren dabbed her nose; between her nose and her eyes, she never knew which would run first.

“Kath…I’m - I guess I’m having a hard time framing this whole ‘ending’ part in my head. I don’t know…I gave him an out a few weeks ago when things between us had become intimate, and I guess - well - he decided to take it.”

“You gave him an out? Loren…I - I don’t think you - ”

“- should’ve done that?” Loren interrupted, feeling a little bit defeated. “But I did….and I meant it.” Loren swallowed hard trying to keep her composure. It meant a lot to Loren that Kathy understood where she was coming from.

Loren sniffed and swiped a tear that escaped down her cheek. “All I said is that I understood he’s under a lot of pressure, and I’m not looking to add to it. It’s just now I’m seeing that idea was easier to grasp a few weeks ago than it is now.”

“Ok….yeah - I get where you’re coming from. I’m just a bit surprised by all of it.” Kathy sighed, flashing Loren a glance filled with compassion. “Alright…so just take me through it. Walk me through the last few weeks,” Kathy said.

Loren outlined the lengthy phone-calls and message strings between her and William when they weren’t able to see one another. The nights she spent at his condo when they couldn’t stop kissing instead of watching a movie. William spending time with her at her house in the suburbs. Sleepovers with the most incredible and fulfilling sex. How attentive they became toward one another. Even their playfights that were filled with silliness and laughter when one ribbed the other a little too much. How much fun they had just being around one another.

But the flipside to all of that was William’s performance during that time. His game seemed completely fragmented. He tried not to allow it to affect him off the ice, but the comments from the media and fans were constantly circling in his orbit.

Snake Bitten. Offense drying up. Defensive misplays. Inconsistent.

William was also being shuffled around playing on different lines, and it seemed like he was trying so hard get his groove back but his own frustrations were settling in and seemed blatantly clear on the ice.

As she watched his games on TV, Loren could sense it. William just seemed a little off - not quite his usual self, and she tried her best not to internalize any of it.

Loren explained to Kathy that there was one game in particular that fueled the questions, primarily in the media, surrounding William’s play.

William had invited her to come to the game against the Florida Panthers on the first of April. The Leafs won that night, but it was also a game that William seemed totally cursed. He couldn’t score, hitting the goal posts on three separate occasions. Ever a target for the opposing team, William could not avoid the heavy hits, trips and even being tossed around throughout the game.

It definitely wasn’t his night.

Loren recalled William suggesting that they meet up with some of the team after the Florida game. At the exclusive high-end meeting place, William was fairly quiet, and seemed the happiest when it was just him and Loren, off on their own, sitting and talking.

Loren loved the one on one with William, however there was something that just felt different that evening. She would not describe it as clingy or possessive, or even anti-social. It was as though Loren was William’s total escape when he was with her. He could just melt into her and detach from everything else for awhile.

Kathy listened quietly as she watched Loren bite back her emotions, chronicling the past few weeks with William. How Loren admitted that she tried really hard to enjoy every moment with William and not feel like there was something ominous just waiting in the shadows to pounce.

Loren explained that he always appreciated that she gave him the room he needed to be #88 of the Maple Leafs and be also be the guy that likes to hangout with his dogs and play video games and eat sushi. The guy who always felt free to be openly affectionate with her. The guy who showed how interesting he thought she was, and who made sure plans were in place for each “next time”. The guy who always told her how easy it was to spend time with her.

She felt lucky to have experienced that second guy.

But somehow, Loren knew that William was really feeling rattled and that something needed to change. After returning from the first leg of a home and home series with New Jersey, he and Loren made plans to see each other as they normally did. William initially asked if she could come to his place and watch the second New Jersey match up on TV with Pablo and Banksy.

But he changed the plan, and instead of her coming to him, he asked if he could come and see her after practice the following day.

Loren’s stomach twisted as she read his text. His words, his tone all sounded normal. But after the Leafs lost 6-5 to New Jersey the night before, and William having had another tough showing, Loren knew what might come when he arrived. It was inevitable. He needed his focus back on his game, and she was now a distraction.

Loren told Kathy that William arrived with the dogs in the afternoon. When she opened the door, Loren saw how almost despondent he looked as he pulled her in for a hug.

Loren managed to suppress the sadness that had spread inside of her, and as her and William talked, she showed him compassion and understanding as he apologized for how they had to come to an end.

Loren was a little surprised when William asked to stay longer after their talk. As afternoon turned into evening, he asked if they could stay the night.

Emotions be damned, Loren allowed herself to enjoy every last second that he spent with her.

◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈

William left Loren’s early in the morning, allowing himself time to drop the dogs off at the condo before heading to the rink for practice. He and Loren shared an incredible night together and he hated leaving. But he did what he had came to do, and Loren had made it so easy on him.

William pondered that the main issue with Loren was that he felt a little too good being around her. He could hardly believe how ridiculous that sounded, but it was true. Loren made him feel like he was shielded from all the pressures when he was with her. Like somehow, her presence was a forcefield between him and the outside world. As amazing as he felt, that feeling did not transfer to his game, however. He struggled to tap into his usual level of focus on the ice, especially on the in-between days when they could not see one another.

William confided in his brother, Alex, about everything he had come to know about Loren. William also acknowledged how much of a tight-rope this situation was with her. William was the one who initiated the majority of contact with Loren the entire time. He invited her out. Her invited her back to his condo and invited her into his bed on their first date. And now he would have to initiate their ending. If this was a different moment during the season, he could just ask Loren for just a bit of space while he works on getting his mojo back. But at this point, in a few short weeks, the Leaf will either be prepping for further rounds in the playoffs or they’ll be doing their locker cleanout and William will have gone back to Europe.

William used the dashboard controls of his SUV to send Alex a voice text, letting him know he did what he had to do with Loren.

As he drove, he stroked the little patch of hair under his bottom lip replaying the night with Loren over again in his mind.

He gripped the steering wheel hard when he thought about her trying be supportive and understanding as he pulled the plug on something she never sought out in the first place.

She was the one being punished because William discovered this beautiful rare diamond in her, and he’s the one that couldn’t handle it.

Instead of feeling relieved or refocused, William’s mood soured as he drove towards the city.

Alex was up early for a morning run and he called William back as soon as he returned.

“So - how’d it go? Was she pissed?”

“Nah, she’s not like that. She said she’s sad - not to make me feel guilty….just that it’s a normal thing to feel when something goes away that she really enjoyed.” William paused. “I just couldn’t bring myself to leave. I spent the night with her.”

“Bro - look, I know this is shit but you’ve said it yourself….you need your focus back. She was a distraction, plain and simple.”

“She was more than a distraction….she was -”

“Yeah, “more than a distraction” is exactly why you needed to cut her loose.”

William bit back. “Fuck dude - let me finish. I meant to say that she wasn’t just this distraction. I don't know how to describe it. Being with her - she was like being back home in the offseason…like I felt that good when I was around her.”

“Willy - you did the right thing. You can see how things go and then who knows…reach back out to her or something…”

“What - so yeah, I fuck off to Sweden in the offseason, she stays here, working her ass off….it just looks like I’m stringing her along while I get to do whatever the fuck I want…..fuck sakes, Alex…”

“Don’t get pissed at me bro - I never said - “

“Look, I’m not pissed at you. I’m fucking frustrated. I pretty sure I just made a huge fucking mistake with her….but I gotta deal with it now.”

The brothers were silent until Alex said he was going to let him go and hop in the shower.

The frustrated feeling remained with William all day. It boiled over that night in the game against Detroit where he was on the ice for two soft goals against the team, slamming his stick against the goal post.

Later on, he tried not to read through Loren’s messages, and he considered deleting them altogether. But he couldn’t do it, and he couldn’t stop wishing she’d call or text or something.

William crawled into bed with Pablo and Banksy curled in close beside him.

The pressure in his head began to build, getting heavier and more noticeable as he tried to fall asleep.

Fuck….a fucking migraine is the last thing I need he thought to himself before drifting off to sleep.

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