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monkebearness · 15 days ago

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He + She (& Her)

Kim ChaeYeon (tripleS) x Male Reader (ft. Lee JiWoo)

Tags: smut, fluff, open relationship (potential poly), creampie, mommy kink, some rough rink

Word count: 10k

a/n: I've thought of this idea for a while, and I've only decided to write about it pretty recently. yeah, that's about it. I hope you enjoy this!

Friday. It’s past seven o’clock in the evening. For a while, howls and growls can be heard under the moonlight, but they’re not from wolves.

“Oooooooh, God… Yooouuuu're… so beau��nghh…tiful, even with your hair… tied up!”

They’ve been going for two hours, jumping each other’s bones since they’re fueled by intense libido and the primal desire to keep this burning pleasure as long as they can on the squeaking king-sized mint bed. It’s not the only spot in the apartment where they do it. There’s the couch, the bathroom, or even the kitchen counter. But for this couple, the bedroom is simply the best spot. As much as “vanilla” it may sound for some, there’s no denying its ultimate comfort and versatility for all sorts of possible, or near-impossible, steaming private activities that their bodies demand.

During this round, the woman has been grinding on his hips like he's a stallion, holding on to his shoulders with every ounce of her being while her cunt is being impaled by his dick in the past several minutes in one of their favorite positions to date.

“Thanks, ba…by… Ggghhh… Baby, you’re so good… inside… me… Ugh!”

“Mmm… Mahh…” he groans under his breath—almost drowning beneath her jiggling sweaty jugs as he maintains his rhythm with his lover and keeps his strength beneath her. “Moommy, fuck! How are you… still so… tight! It feels so…”

“Just keep… Going…” She undoes her bun, a flashy maneuver that suddenly embiggens his already erect member. “What..? Ugghhh!” she yelps at his surprise, but that’s not all.

His unthinkable urges impel him to take his mouth into her right tit, igniting a shriek of delight and a titter from the woman as he proceeds to suck it within seconds. “Oh, fuck! Hnngghh… Honggi... you naughty… boy!” She struggles to form phrases from the top of her breath while her occupied partner uses his hand to massage her left breast, rubbing it up and down with his fingers, a trick that he intensifies by using his pincer grasps to give her nipple a quick pinch. “Imma…”

Honggi’s mouth slowly parts from Chaeyeon’s knocker, leaving a trail of saliva, and asks her, “What… Is it?”

“I’m safe today, baby,” she whimpers right next to his left ear with a smirk. “And I’m… getting close.” And as a cherry on top, the woman leans near his left cheek and licks it.

Her words and action strikes through his nerve once again, giving him another quick boost for another minute. He knows exactly what she’s insinuating. “Me…” he grunts, feeling his thrusts within her decrease in speed in favor of strengthening his pounding. “Nggghhh… too!”

Their movements slowly take a halt, anticipating the warm build-up flowing and leaving their crotches. She holds his chin, leaning down to reward him with a kiss. He amplifies it by sliding his tongue in her submissive mouth, allowing a moment for them to sloppily clash together in the midst of their skins slapping. Five seconds later, Honggi bursts his load inside Chaeyeon’s womb, moaning in each other’s mouth as they’ve reached their respective climaxes.

They catch their breath, falling flat on the bed. “You did so good, baby," she wheezes before lying on her pillow. She places her hand on his chest. “You always have, oppa.”

“You do remember that we’re still the same age, Chae-yah,” he brings up with a snicker.

“Yeah, but oppa gets you up, doesn’t it?” she counters with a teasing tone, lightly pinching his nose. “‘Cause you’re still months older? Almost a year, even.”

“I don’t care what you call me, mommy,” he submits, gently stroking her hair sideways. “Here or outside.”

He kisses her forehead, inciting a giggle from her. She inches her head on to his chest, where the two relax and hear each other’s breathing for about fourteen minutes while they talk about their day, allowing Honggi to reflect on their mundane yet special past. About two years ago.

= = =

“So I wasn't too tipsy that night,” the woman cheered. “You really were from SSU too!”

He puts down his cup on the table. “I thought you were familiar too,” he pointed out.

She pointed her fingers. “You were the class clown from Tone’s friend group, right?”

“Yeah! And you, you…” He snapped his fingers four times, until more of his memories were reignited and much clearer. “Oh, right! You were that cute and clumsy girl from Tone’s club. The Dimension Beamers, was it?”

“Diamond Dreamers,” she corrected him with a chuckle, not even defending his claim. “Gosh, it’s been a long time since I’ve heard that name from someone.”

They went to the same university, but they weren’t that close. Mutual friends at best... The encounters they had were mostly teasing each other whenever their friend groups interact. But they have been coworkers for almost three years and, of course, one thing led to another, as cliché as that sounds. When they were promoted to a new team at the Cultivation Of Seoul Media Organization (COSMO) Broadcasting Station, the two felt a “spark” during their first post-college reunion. The day after their first team dinner, the pair chose to meet at a café in their company building during lunchtime.

“Right, right, that’s what I meant,” he replied. “Mianhae. You got a point. It’s been about six years since we graduated from Seoul State, so forgive my memory.”

“No worries. But, may I ask: how long have you been working here?” she asked. “I feel like I’ve seen you a few times before, but I’m sure if you were someone I crossed paths with.”

“I’ve only been here for a year, actually,” he clarified. “Though I’ve worked other jobs at other companies before I got here after Tone and some of my pals are here and gave their recommendations for the application. How about you?”

“About two years now. Got here on my own, but it wasn’t easy either. Company had more rounds of interviews for applicants in its early days.”

“Wow, you’re an OG employee… So that makes you my sunbae, then?” he teased.

“Yah!” she roared. We’re in the same year first during college… I’m not allowing that.”

“Fine, fine,” he yielded to her intimidating whine. “Besides, I don’t wanna get fired too.”

Chayeon only raised her eyebrow, much to her chagrin.

He inched his arms away from the table with vigilance. “Will I get fired for saying that?”

“Nah, relax…” she reassured him, before taking a sip of her iced americano with a slight smile. One of his statements from earlier still stuck in her mind. “So… I was that cute member, huh?” her smile grew into a smirk. “Don’t you think I’ve forgotten that.”

He gulped, coming up with anything off the top of his head to justify what he said. “It’s just from my memory. Have you not called yourself that word back in the day? I can still remember how confident you were with aegyos, even to people who weren't that close to you. You were practically a celebrity, just like the rest of your club.”

“That was pretty embarrassing. But those were some fun times,” she looked down and shook her head, before her mind recalled what she remembered about him. “And you…”

“What about me?” he countered with an alarmed tone before she could finish her statement. He must’ve thought of the most unflattering adjectives about himself.

“Don’t get so defensive all of the sudden, Mister,” she chortled. “For someone who was known as the clown in your group, I remember you had some charms and talents too, especially when you worked during the campus festival… You deserve to be here like everyone else, whether you got here through recommendations or not.”

“That is quite nice to hear, actually. Thanks.” He raised his right hand sideways, keeping his thumb apart from the rest. “I look forward to working with you, Chaeyeon-ssi.”

She took his hand, shaking it with her left. “Likewise, Honggi-ssi.”

They became friends, as expected, but even that wasn’t an easy path for them to take. The moment Honggi’s close friends and colleagues from his previous team heard the news of them hitting off, they went to him whenever he’s on his own several times— pestering him like insects flying on his radar, buzzing and whizzing around him, even though they were in different teams and floors apart.

“I know you’re kinda down bad,” his taller colleague assumed. “But are you sure you wanna go with Kim Chaeyeon?”

“Can’t you just go after someone else?” another one of his old deskmates chimed in.

“What about her, man?” Honggi wondered. “She seems pretty nice and approachable. Definitely more capable than me. I got to know her better, compared to when we’re in college. And besides… We’re just friends.”

“Another load of bullshit from you, man,” his taller one cackled. “Friends? Since when have you been friends with a woman, let alone at work?”

“Since Kotone? Since Suhyeon? Since Jayoon? Do you want me to go on?”

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands in defeat. “Fair enough, man.”

“And before you even ask,” Honggi continued with conviction. “No, I didn’t have the urge to sleep with them, you weirdos. Like I said, I’m just friends with Chaeyeon now.”

“Whatever you guys are right now,” the old deskmate added, telling him with a tone of concern. “There’s some things you don’t know about her.”

“That’s true,” the taller one hums in agreement. “It's better if you find some of the tea that she may not even spill by herself. Otherwise, you’ll regret it down the road.”

“Like what?” Honggi’s voice became a little louder. The two became daunted by him.

He sees them as invasive. Despite the two of them being his friends for years, this was the first time he did not feel comfortable listening to their babbles about office drama. Ironically enough, he's no stranger to being an office gossiper himself back in the past. “Mianhae, guys,” he sighs. “Just spill it out. I'm sure it's not that big of a deal.”

“When she first worked here, she was more…” the deskmate scans through his mental thesaurus. “Promiscuous. That woman is wilder than she looks, man. As in more than you can imagine. But I don’t know, maybe she isn’t like that nowadays.”

“And?” he tilts his head. Hearing their persistence has been rubbing him the wrong way. “Her relationships should be the last of my business, let alone anyone else’s.”

“Whatever, man,” the taller colleague gives him a pat on his shoulder. “Just be careful when you’re dealing with that kind of woman… Especially if you’ve fallen for her.”

“Thanks, but umm,” Honggi scoffs at their warnings. Even though their overwhelming load of cautions made him a little worried, not for himself or even his own friends, but for Chaeyeon. “I think you guys are being overdramatic.”

“We just don’t want you to get hurt, dude. But if you’re still not convinced, you’ll see.”

Honggi heard the rumors from other colleagues about cases of cheating on her previous relationships, but Chaeyeon dismissed them, though whenever he got any close to being curious, she could only tell him responses like, “It’s, uhhhh, more complicated than that. But there was no cheating involved or anything.” Nevertheless, she was starting to enjoy his company over time, and so did he, in spite of all the misgivings he heard from other people around his workspace. A trust was strengthened through their bond ever since they felt that spark, prompting them to keep meeting each other from time to time.

The following months between the two were basically a game of “will-they-won’t-they?” Until the moment of truth came a year later. One had to finally make their first move.

“Hey, do you want to go to dinner?” Honggi approached her. “After work, that is?”

She placed her elbow on her desk, staring at him with a whimsical smile. “What is this, Lim Honggi-yah?”

“I’m just asking you out… For dinner,” he told her without any further details, making his tone sound casual. Just maybe a little too much. “I’m sure it’s not that different whenever we have lunch in this building. It’s just outside... Unless you have plans for tonight, then we can do it some other—”

“Loosen up,” she snorted a laugh due to his rapid pace. “I’m super free tonight… So, I would very much like that. You got any place in mind?”

“I was thinking if you have a suggestion,” he proposed. “Since you know this district a little better than I do.”

“How thoughtful of you.”

Even though he’s already thought of a comeback, Honggi tried to keep a straight face. “I’m, uhh, I’m just letting my sunbae do the honors.”

“Yah!” she exclaimed, leaving from her seat to chase off the running man across the room, before heading to the nearest pojangmacha outside their building. Honggi insisted that it would be his treat, so she took his words to heart.

“I’ll have a plate of gyeran-mari, a platter of tteokbokki, an odolppyeo-bokkeum, a bowl of eomukguk, and a bottle of makgeolli.”

“Okay,” the vendor turned her head to the man, whose eyes only widened at her orders. “How about you, son?”

“I… uhhh… I’ll have another bowl of eomukguk, and a roll of kimbap. Kamsahamnida.”

She chuckled at his reaction as soon as the vendor started preparing their orders. “I’ll pay for my orders, okay? Plus, they’re all meant to be shared, so you better help me out.”

“Of course,” he insisted. “But don’t worry, ‘cause I can still pay for them.”

“I haven’t eaten anything since lunch, so I don’t mind having a heavier meal tonight.”

He feels his own heart anguish, even unnecessary guilt, hearing her admit those words. “You should really stop skipping your meals, Chaeyeon-ah.”

“Gwenchana,” she shrugged his worries off with a cheery tone. “I rarely skip meals. Today was just an exception to that. I'm okay, Honggi.”

They didn't have a label for whatever they were, but they began dating, albeit in secret. Yes, they used the term dating, even if they weren’t “anything” at first, and even though he didn’t realize that she was hiding a few secrets from him for a while. Yet despite this, Honggi didn’t blame her, or even held an ounce of spite, when she told him the truth of most of the hearsays and rumors his own friends were warning him about. It's her life, he tells himself… I don't have to know everything, unless she tells me about it.

Knowing Chaeyeon, she confided in him some of the things that others would talk about her. How she experienced catcalling by others, had her own credits and contributions at her projects stolen or undermined by certain executives, and how she dealt with them in her two years at this company. Of course, she has her own close friends whom she could tell her secrets to outside of work, but with Honggi, it’s something new compared to a lot of things she has been going through at work lately. To her, he was a new ingredient that started spicing up her life at their workplace. He was a friend whose shoulders she could lean on. One she can call text or late at night, whether they're working on a team project, or talking about anything else. One who she can exchange jokes with without getting too offended. One who doesn’t laugh whenever she loses her balance on a slippery floor and rather, goes his way to help her back up, just before they laugh it off together. One that coyly tells her that she looks beautiful whenever she enters the office with a new look. That’s Honggi to Chaeyeon. It is the balance of feeling comfortable and the yearning which they have for each other.

But that first date was also the first time Chaeyeon decided to come clean with him.

More than an hour had passed inside the pocha. Most of their plates and bowls were emptied, with the leftovers already wrapped up, most notably Chaeyeon’s tteokbokki. Fees have been paid. But they still remain here, having longer talks and banters about whatever they can bring up until the clock reaches nine.

Reasonably, she felt hesitant at first. “Do you believe what they're saying about me?”

Honggi saw it in her eyes. The sense of dread she was trying to hide. Not to mention her cheeks looking more pinkish. Why does she kind of look like a peach? A really cute one, he wonders, just as he brushed off such an honest observation. He inched his hand on her fingers, hoping it would alleviate her unease. She looked down, feeling his gentle, electric touch. It’s that spark again. “I only believe what you tell me, Chaeyeon-ssi.”

“Honggi-yah. You know, you've only known me for a year,” she faced him with eyes ridden with guilt while wearing a somber smile. “That pales in comparison to your buddies at your old team. They basically welcomed you into this company.”

“Sure, they’re my friends,” he acknowledged. “But they don't know you either. They can call me a simp all they want. Maybe I am. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve known you enough to know that—”

She left her seat and inched closer to his face, kissing him for the first time, sending sparks throughout both their bodies at this moment. In her mind, she took a big risk... Within seconds, they feel and taste each other’s lips, unavoidably exploring the flavors of their meals, yet they savor each, from tangy to savory. Their lips part, Honggi opens his eyes, frozen in disbelief. His breathing becomes a little heavier at first, yet a stream of relief and excitement follows from him.

“I guess that’s one thing they, or you, didn’t know about me.”

“They did tell me,” slipped from his mouth, but immediately covered himself with his hand. “Though I didn’t mean to ruin this moment. I tried to ignore them, but I couldn’t forget when they said that you’d be…”

“What?” she questioned, her monotone voice striking panic through him.

“Promiscuous?” he confessed in embarrassment. “Mianhae. That's what they told me.”

She let out a giggle. “Don’t be… I kinda expected just that,” her sultry tone and grin remained. Her fingers trailed up his sleeve, sending a chilling sensation down his spine. “But… Feeling is different from knowing, don’t you agree?”

He nodded with an embarrassed smile. Before the silence of the night breeze could have overtaken their moment, Honggi made the next move while Chaeyeon smiled and closed her eyes in anticipation of this moment.

In the months that followed, Honggi and Chaeyeon have gone on dates at either fancy or simple restaurants, watched movies at the theater, given each other gifts and bouquets on occasions, and taken walks to plenty of parks and museums, like most couples. For indoors, they hang out at each other’s places, where they cook, cuddle, wheedle, or watch TV and—for the most part—having stress relieving sex after work, which has pretty much become a tradition for the pair during weekends—if their limbs aren’t sore because of it, to say the least.

= = =

This Friday evening, they’re in Chaeyeon's apartment. Her bed is starting to reek of sex. Their mixed sweat and juices long splattered across the bed sheets, with their breathing bouncing across the room. Both their stamina and fuel to keep going have been drained, although their requited satisfaction is off the charts. Neither of them may be able to top their performance this week in the next few days. Although they have had wilder times, tonight’s one of their most passionate ones so far, but that doesn’t come as a surprise.

They suddenly hear a ringtone at the door, followed by a click, since they never closed the bedroom door. Honggi gets up from the bed, freezing on alert, but Chaeyeon’s lips only curve upwards with anticipation. Based on her face, he understands just who the person from the other side is. The only other resident of this astonishing abode. A tall woman in a grey blazer and black slacks.

“Jagiya," Chaeyeon, now in her blue robe, exits the bedroom with her usual sweet tone as she walks up to her girlfriend at the foyer. “You’re home!”

“Hi, unnie,” Jiwoo’s smile reciprocates her girlfriend’s, although the tone of her voice is a little weaker. “You may wanna get a hold of yourself a little longer. Imma shower for a bit. The train tonight was more crowded than usual.”

“I don’t care how smelly you are now,” she retorts, proving her words with a kiss to Jiwoo’s left cheek. “Plus, I don’t think our scents are that different now, hmm..?”

The woman smirks, slowly trailing her fingers up the collar of Chaeyeon’s robe to take a peek of her bare body. “If that’s the case, then why don’t you join me in the shower?”

“I much as I would love that,” she tells her, giving her another peck on her right cheek. “I think you should go ahead first, babe.”

“Oh, right,” her mouth slightly gapes, realizing what she meant. “Mianhae. We have a guest, after all. I didn’t even notice.”

“Don’t apologize,” Chaeyeon holds her hands. “You’re looking a little tired, Juju-yah. Better get some rest first, arachi?”

Honggi exits the room, now wearing his shirt and boxers. Sitting on the couch with his phone, he watches them kiss and embrace with passion. Even he can tell the warmth of their years of care and love for each other, acknowledging well that this pair predates whatever he and she has. Sure, he may come off as a third wheel, but it’s not the first time he’s entered this awkward situation whenever he’s with both of them.

Tossing her messenger bag on the couch, she slouches on the furniture herself to take a breather, the tall woman takes a look at the man with a polite smile yet insouciant eyes, Jiwoo makes a little effort by raising her right hand to wave at him once she has turned on the television. “Hey, Honggi-ssi.”

Honggi bows his head with a sheepish smile. “Hey, Jiwoo-ssi. How’s your day?”

“Oh, you know. Business as usual,” she pouts. “The studio was less occupied tonight… But, surprisingly enough, the bakery had more customers than usual. We even had to delay its closure by thirty minutes… How’s yours?”

For hours, he had almost forgotten. This is far from an ordinary relationship. A lot of couples have become more open-minded, mostly for the better, yet not every couple is open like Chaeyeon and Jiwoo. He recalls their third date, when she came clean about the thrilling and intriguing nature of his lover’s relationship with someone else.

= = =

Back to six months ago, right after the heat of the moment. It was their eighth kiss at the garden, located outside the restaurant they just dined at. It was a romantic memory for both of them, butterflies and all that. For Chaeyeon, it felt like she entered the Garden of Eden every time they locked lips, or felt each other’s tongue trying to slide in. However, as soon as their eyes meet again, she pulls the elephant back inside their room almost immediately to remind him of her pressing concern, at least for his sake.

“That was, wow... But, um, you clearly weren't paying attention to what I just told you, oppa, which, by the way, I've told you about seven times on separate occasions, yet it’s always like that’s no big deal to you.”

Even though it was her plan to come clean since their first date, Honggi’s reaction has somewhat bothered her often. He seems too chill about it, she described his behavior. She confessed to having a girlfriend during their second date, but he only took it well. Way too well. That’s why she keeps pressing him about her revelation whenever they spend time outside of work.

“That just means that I’ve listened to you loud and clear, Chaeyeon-ah,” he comforted her with a gentle caress to her cheek, making Chaeyeon look down out of meekness. Even if kissing or simply touching her should have felt like taking a lot of bites of the forbidden fruit, Honggi’s heart and mind are willing to submit to such a sweet sensation.

But, with his accepting words, she realized something. Just like how he waited for her and comforted her until she opened up, maybe she proved herself that she’d be just as willing to do the same for Honggi, if she wants to make him stay and make things work with the man she has fallen for.

“I don't care if you have a girlfriend, another boyfriend, or another lover,” he continued. “I don't mind if that's just how you live and love. I mean… If you do feel the same way for me—I don’t know, maybe that's enough for us, don’t you think? And it’s not like you’re cheating on your girlfriend, is it?”

“Of course, not,” she looked back at him. “I meant what I said. Jiwoo and I have been ‘open’ for a while now, and it’s been going well for both of us. For the most part.”

“For the most part?” he repeated, raising his eyebrow in confusion.

“We can’t always be lucky,” she shrugged. “But my point is, my girlfriend and I tell each other whoever we’re interested in… So you shouldn’t be worried about that, Honggi.”

“Well, I think any other person who could’ve been with you now, would’ve been lucky,” he contemplated. “I just happened to be that man this time.”

“Are you just saying that so you can finally get in my pants?” she cooed.

“Definitely not,” he inched away and crossed his arms, wanting to appear classier to her. “Unless you want that, I’m a patient man.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “What a gentleman you are.”

“I’m serious… I like what we have now, Chaeyeon-ah.” His speech reverted back to a serious one. “But if you don't want me to be in your life a little more often, then I can understand that. We can stay friends, if you’d like it—”

She put her index finger on his lips. He sees her alluring smile slowly forming.

“Of course, I'm serious too. It’s our third date, silly,” she took another step closer, triggering a sudden gulp in his throat. “You have no idea how much I want you, Honggi-yah.”

They rented a motel room, agreeing not to introduce each other’s places just yet. “It’s still a bit too messy,” Honggi defended his reasoning, though Chaeyeon’s reason was, “Jiwoo-yah will be surprised to see me taking someone home while she’s around and besides… I'm all yours tonight.”

Despite their previous dates becoming more and more intimate, they haven’t done anything beyond second base because of Chaeyeon’s hesitation. About how Honggi would react once she tells him about their open relationship, or finds that out from some of the blabbermouths at work. Thankfully, she had chosen the former route.

As soon as they arrived inside their motel room, Chaeyeon hungrily jumped on Honggi, whom he caught with lustful enthusiasm. As they made out unrestrained, their tongues danced in harmony, tasting each other without delay while he held on to her hips and waist, as his fingers explored her curves with curiosity. The pair might have enjoyed each other’s mouth more than the expensive meals they had that night.

His right hand finds its way on her bottom, giving her right cheek a slow squeeze, which broke their kiss with a moan from the woman. He’s found more of her sensitive zones.

About ten minutes had passed of exploring each other's mouth and the curve of their body, and they slowed down and took off each other’s attire. From the bottom to top, Honggi slowly unbuttoned her sleeve, digging in his lips down her neck the more her skin was exposed, licking and tasting the woman as if she's producing nectar. “Hnghh…”

Condoms were located inside the nightstand. Thank God for love motels, Honggi sighed, but, as Chaeyeon unbuttons his pants, a thought still bothered him. And it bothered him if he didn’t tell her the truth about this information sooner.

“I… haven’t done this in a while,” the man stutters, instinctively scratching his head.

“It’s okay…. Let me,” she whispers. She unlocks her blue bra with an alluring smirk, revealing her voluminous breasts to her partner. Honggi becomes stunned, like a stun grenade was just dropped in front of his eyes, a pair that blinds him with lust and thirst.

The man looks at her with a veil of caution, suppressing his true excitement. “May I?”

She nodded, and he leaped in for the attack, nibbling and sucking her bosom. “Oh, fuck.” While Chaeyeon can only hum and whimper as Honggi pleasured her with his mouth. Despite her eyes closing in bliss, her hand creeped all the way down his erect crotch, but that didn't stop him from savoring each of her plump rack like it’s dessert. “Yes, that's it… You know your thing, baby,” she purred with her eyes closed.

But Honggi stopped for a second. A bulb lit up in his head. No need to rush this.

“Let me take the lead, if you don't mind,” he tells her. She nods, before he latches his lips onto hers. His left hand stays firm on her breast, massaging them with circular motions, with his right hand being deployed down her clit. Testing the waters, he puts one finger in her, suddenly triggering a whimper of surprise from her. The second finger followed inside, igniting the moan that he couldn’t get enough of. If that wasn’t enough for her, he deploys the third finger to do another trick. His right thumb latched beside the clit, making a limited up and down motion. “God… You devious son of a… gun!”

After giving her a deeper kiss, his lips trailed down her neck, collarbone, chest once again, curves, and belly button. He bowed on one knee until his gaze reached the level of his destination, her nether regions, in between her thick thighs. As Honggi start to eat Chaeyeon out, she couldn’t stop moaning while her hands kept fighting on whether to grip Honggi’s wavy hair or the cover of the mattress.

He stopped, giving Chaeyeon a sense of disappointment. He looked up to her. “Mianhae, but I just wanna say… Go ahead, Chae, pull my hair.”

The woman exhaled a smile, speechless and astonished by his openness to her much rougher habits.

After giving his permission to his lover, he went through his techniques, blowing into it with his warm breath before slowly licking her inner thighs to amplify her anticipation. With his tongue, he starts circling her clit from side to side, up and down, repeating the process through different variations. Each lick and swirl triggers a different note from the woman’s voice, increasing the intensity of her moans from minute to minute. Her right hand latched on to his hair.

“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, fuck!” she cried out in glee. The rush of feeling his mouth savoring her cunt only made her curse louder, not wanting for this sensation to stop, even if her juices begin to leak. Minutes went by as she howled in his efforts with little intervals of silence, and she could feel herself reaching her maximum capacity. Like a cup overflowing with liquid. “Baby, fuck! I'm getting close… I can't hold it—”

She looked up to the heavens and reached her orgasm, splashing her milky fluids on his face. And unsurprisingly, it would be far from the last on this night. Chaeyeon caught her breath, and opened her eyes to find Honggi’s creamed face. Realizing what she's done, she apologized to him. However, he licked whatever was left on his hand, much to her surprise, yet Chaeyeon didn’t have him to have the fun all by himself. She cupped his face and pulled him closer, sticking her tongue out and licking her own juice, starting down his chin up to his left cheek. “Holy,” Honggi could only mutter in awe, before she pulled him for a kiss. Moments have passed, the main show has now arrived. With the condom completely wrapped around his member, they both lie down on the bed.

Now, it’s her turn to make an effort to please Honggi, sitting on his lap with her legs wrapped around his waist. Fueled by excitement, she aligned her entrance with his shaft, while Honggi exhaled with anticipation at her initiative.

Clearing her throat at the sight of it, she inched her body until his tip faced her entrance. Oh, I'm not sure if I can handle this, she thinks at the spectacle of his own cock. It might not be the longest she has seen, but his girth made her speechless. Her reaction was split between intimidation and appetite. However, while Chaeyeon salivated at his cock with her stare, it was Honggi who continued the formalities amidst her hesitation. “Can I?”

“Do the honors,” she husked. Honggi received her blessing. With a deep breath, his manhood entered inside her slit. Chaeyeon felt hair stand up all over her body, yet she maintained her own composure while her hole welcomed his lover’s key. He slowly pushed his penis, deeper and deeper within.

Despite submitting to the woman's lead, his rod finally found more of her pleasurable zones inside her womb, the longer he inched himself more forward within Chaeyeon’s tightening embrace, who squealed right next to his ear just as his yonic expedition had reached the end.

“I never expected it to happen like this,” he confessed while easing on his grinding.

“Me… ngggnnneither.” Savoring his shaft, she leaned in and peppered a few kisses on his forehead, an action that made him chuckle. “But I'm glad… that it's like thisss.”

In search of something familiar and comforting in this intense session, their eyes ended up crossing paths again. Lust and love clashed through their body and mind, but Honggi feels conflicted about whether he should praise or eroticize her, in all of her naked glory. “You’re so cute. So hardworking. So smart… So fucking beautiful, Chaeyeon. You're so…” Regardless, he couldn't help but do both in such a crazed and stimulating moment. “Fuck!”

“What?” a grin crept on her face. His unorganized words were music to her ears, but she wanted more. “Go on, baby. Come on, say it to me.”

He found a new side of this woman. And she was right, about what she told him during their first date.

“You’ve imagined me naked before, haven’t you?”

Caught by her question, Honggi thought of those moments. He's only a man, after all. Even before they became more intimate, he had instances of finding her attractive. For starters, her face. To him, Chaeyeon is what they would call a visual. He once asked why she didn't become an idol or model for a living, though she shrugged him off. Her two memorable hairstyles. Her butt when she dropped her folder on the floor one time. Her cleavage, during their dates. Even her mannerisms often make him feel things. But even then, he would stop himself from entertaining any other thoughts. Now that their story is different, he only groaned with pleasure, coordinating his movement with her grinding. She tilted her head at his lack of words, sensing that he's become distracted by his thoughts while his body’s on autopilot. “Hmm… You’re not answering, baby.”

“It’s different… Feeling you is much more different,” he admitted his thoughts.

“How different?” She encouraged him, surprised he even remembered those same words from months back.

“You’re so…” his thrusts hardened. “Fucking hot. Hotter than I could… Imagine!”

She bit her lower lip. “Atta…boy.”

Their rhythm reaches synchronicity. He says his praises along with his powered plunges. The woman created a graceful and dynamic symphony with her moans, holding onto his back with eagerness, burying her fingernails on his trapezius whenever he reached more spots to stimulate as his cock moved in and out inside her.

She wouldn't admit it to anyone, but Chaeyeon hasn't felt pleasure like this in years. Sure, she might have a girlfriend before him, but there's just something different with this sensation. Not better or worse. Just new. And she doesn't want to let it go, let him go, especially at this moment. Yet unlike most of the folks she has dated and slept with, there's action and power to his words. Even at this pace, she wanted to test his attention.

“Slap my ass,” she rasped, clasping her hands around his back a little tighter to maintain her motion.

“Huh?” his rhythm slowed down as he leaned his ear closer.

“Do it, baby!” she whined, feeling her insides getting stretched. “Just slap my—”

Honggi did what he’s told. He raised his right palm and tapped her right butt cheek while it kept bouncing on, along with its other half.

She's not too impressed. She barely felt it. “Harder,” she purred. “Was that a tickle?”

A nerve was struck there. Even if she was doing it to get him worked up, his ego took it as not being good enough. Failing to satisfy her. Like with his own exes. Thus, he only pushed himself to prove her wrong. He slapped her butt again, now with double the speed. Some impact was felt, and it amused her. “Heh… You're… getting there.”

Goaded and aroused by her taunts, he cranked up his strength level and tripled his speed, raising his hand for the third time, now spreading his fingers apart, and smack! Honggi’s slap sent a surge of stimulation throughout the rest of her body—from her skin to her most sensitive spots—and he followed it up with four more slaps in similar levels.

“Oooooooooohh, fuck!” she howled with delight, feeling the reverb down her buttocks. Pleased by his own results, he celebrated by licking her neck and nibbling on her right nipple, forcing the woman to muffle her continuous moans with a lip bite. “Don’t stop that... hmm? It feels… too good.”

“You deserve everything good, Chae-yah,” he returned to praising her. “You deserve the fucking best!”

“Then do I deserve… This big cock inside me?” she wailed. “Do I, Honggi-yah?”

“You deserve it, mommy,” he moaned, giving his best and hardest to please her with his member through rougher thrusts. “This cock is made… just for you. And a lot more!”

Those words were the final straw in the stacks of sensation she's feeling. “I’m… close!”

His ego prompted him to say the same thing and lie to her, but even his thrilled and exhilarated body answered otherwise, insisting that he kept on pounding the woman with all his might. “Do it, Chae,” he cheered on, choosing to listen to his body to keep going, while his partner was already nearing her completion.

And as Chaeyeon hit a high and long note at the top of her lungs, Honggi felt the warm stream of juices burst out her vagina, even from the veil of the latex barrier protecting his rod. Still moving his own hips forward inside her womb, Honggi was more than happy that she reached her climax for a second time, even if his ego was already disappointed that he couldn’t do it at the same time as hers, since he himself was now close to releasing. Another skill issue, his own inner ego mocked him, but he was rarely bothered, knowing that he's next.

“Fill me up, baby!” she commanded. “It's… your… reward, for being so good in me.”

He knows what she means, even if he really can't literally do what she asked this time. Not tonight, anyways. He also moaned the moment he busted all his semen inside the condom, though his volume paled in comparison to the woman's. Feeling his cum to be taking a little longer to unload, he pulled his cock out of her. As both slowed down along with their breathing, such an experience put a smile of fulfillment on both their faces.

“Maybe next time,” he gasped, falling on the bed beside her.

“Mianhae, baby,” she caressed his left cheek with a pout. “It’s our first time, and you did so well… But, I didn't even ask if you were close.”

He cupped her face and leaned closer to kiss her lips, reassuring her. “Don't be, Peachy… I'm just happy I even managed to please you.”

She raised an eyebrow, but his words and action put a beam of appreciation on her face. “You got a nickname for me now?”

His flight-or-fight response activated, more on the former. “You don't like it?”

“I do. And it's nice,” she hummed. “It’s, umm, similar to what my girlfriend calls me.”

Chaeyeon's words suddenly sent an unexpected reaction down Honggi's member. Her eyes darted at his erection with lustful interest. “What the hell?” he murmured, rising from the bed in surprise. The woman followed his movement until they're both seated.

“I know you're a bit disappointed… for not finishing with me,” she teased. Her hands stroke his cock up and down, slowly lowering her head to its level, mirroring his actions earlier. “But I'll make it up to you, oppa… The night's still young, hmm?”

Staring at his now erect cock, she licked the remains of his cum off his tip clean, sending tingles through his spine. She proved her point. Honggi could only watch and groan at her determined display, before answering her with, “Well… It's your call, mommy.”

That night was the first, second, third, and fourth times they’ve had sex. In retrospect, the first one was definitely far from their best one—but so are most first times, though admittedly, it can be said that it was better than most, especially since they had a few more rounds that exceeded the last. All in one night, Honggi had his balls deep inside Chaeyeon several times, and she savored every second, minute, and hour of it—even if they used protection the whole night. For starters, they ended up doing more than one position. The missionary, lotus, cowgirl, and some of which are mixed variations of the previous ones, along with a few more.

Half an hour has passed. They sprawl next to each other on the memory foam mattress. Their eyes lock in the silence, sensing the satisfaction, endearment, and warmth in each other’s smile, gaze, and touch, respectively, while they gasp for breath—in a similar way one would after partaking in track and field, gymnastics, swimming, and weightlifting, perhaps combined with other sports, all at the same time.

They've finally reached the remaining bases of physical intimacy in their relationship. In fact, they’ve hit the homerun, as some call it. In the afterglow of their vehement rounds, both players felt like winners on each one in this game, which felt both competitive and a team play, which is what it actually is.

“You… told me… you haven't done this… in a…” Chaeyeon huffed and puffed, holding on to his shoulder. “While.”

“And you said you’ve only known… A few positions,” he fired back, caressing her hand. “What was… all that?”

“That was a few,” she exhaled with a smug grin. Her hand moved to his chest, giving his pecs a few tickles.

His tiring eyes and smile widened at such a remark, sensing a tingle down there. “Does that mean there’s more?”

“Hmm…” she squinted her eyes at him, her breathing slowly back to normal. “I never expected for you to be such a perv, oppa. You’re gonna need a little more discipline.”

“Bring it on,” he goaded her, aroused and intimated by her playful warning. He and his member readied up to what she had to offer.

Driven by their untameable lust, their next few rounds came right after that minute.

After that night, the man would enter Chaeyeon's life a lot more often. In ways more than one. From restaurant dates to traveling, their romantic and sexual adventures began. Honggi would sometimes wonder how their relationship would have worked, considering the fact that they’ve only been meeting three and half times a week but he eventually understood and adapted, both on his own and from Chaeyeon’s comforting words. Meanwhile, the other half of the schedule would be dedicated to her girlfriend.

Every week, he would spend more time with her on the last three days of the week, with Jiwoo being her priority in the first half. However, nothing is ever final, as they tend to switch on the next one or even overlap at times. That’s when Chaeyeon mediated their introduction as both of her lovers. It is a rare situation for someone to introduce their girlfriend to their new boyfriend and vice versa, but it happened to the three of them. They were properly introduced on a Saturday morning—their third month of dating.

For this significant occasion, they met at a cafe that was nearest to their apartment.

“Jiwoo-yah, this is Honggi,” Chaeyeon gestured with her hands. “Honggi-yah, this is Jiwoo.”

Awkwardness was inevitable but as Chaeyeon recalls it, it was one of the most awkward she has ever felt from them, even reconsidering whether it was a good idea to introduce them in the first place, since their schedules were working with little to no problem. But she was impressed that he still pushed through with it like a champ, just like Jiwoo did.

Honggi finally met Chaeyeon’s woman for the first time since college. “Oh, it really is you…” Recognizing her at first glance, he straightened his posture and bowed to her. His cup of coffee remains untouched. “Annyeonghaseyo, Jiwoo-ssi.”

“Told you he’d recognize me,” she murmured next to her girlfriend. Jiwoo bowed to him seconds later, before taking a sip of her iced tea through the flexible silicone straw.

“That’s great!” Yet Chaeyeon still perseveres. As stubborn as she may seem, she wants this to work out. The man she has fallen for has been nothing but great to her, and she wants her beloved to see that in some capacity. “I hope you two will get along together, because we will be seeing each other more often. I know we have our own schedules on meeting each other, but since you two agreed with me on this...”

= = =

After ten minutes of small talk with the other woman in the living room, he returns back to his girlfriend’s room. His doubts and self-inadequacy mandates him to dress up in his outerwear and call it a night. Although he likes their company, he doesn't know what else to do.

But just as Honggi is facing the present with a few hints of doubt, he takes a deep sigh. Chaeyeon has read his mind and places her right hand on his cheek. “Look, oppa... I'm not asking you to simply shag her or whatever," she tells him casually. “She can do that with whoever she likes. She's a strong, independent woman.”

“I know she is,” her words throw him off guard. This is indeed a new territory for him, but he still went on because he knew he liked this woman in front of him. “But I'm not even considering that—And I don't.”

“Sure,” she laughs at his defensive reaction. “But you gotta admit, she’s gorgeous.”

Honggi takes a glance at Jiwoo from the dining table, laughing loudly and unabashedly at whatever she’s watching on her phone, something that contrasts his first impression of her. That’s one trait of hers that he hasn’t forgotten since all three of them started to hang out in this apartment. “She really is.”

“See?” her voice raises with enthusiasm. “Babe, you do find her attractive!”

“That was a test?” he scoffs in disbelief. “I mean that, from an objective standpoint.”

“Maybe, I'm just kidding.” She tilts her head to the side. “Maybe I’m not. We’ll see.”

“Yah…” he lowers his voice. “You’re scaring me for a bit.”

“Babe, loosen up a bit…” she tries to woo him with her kittenish voice. “Jiwoo doesn’t really hate you or anything. Far from it. It's okay for both of you to take things slow... Slower than we have, if you must.”

He can only ponder about his own decision while he listens to Chaeyeon, knowing well that she is still saying her piece. She's worth it, he realizes.

“But the truth is, she hasn’t seen anyone in a while,” she elaborates. “Her last ex didn’t bother calling her again because I said no to having a foursome with one of his friends. Pigs, that’s what they were.”

Immersed and touched by their experience, Honggi halts any considerations of leaving. With whatever they have now, he doesn't want to mess everything up, especially when she, nay, they need him around. “He didn't respect you enough, Chae. Both of you... That was his loss.”

“Thank you, babe,” she reaches both his cold hands, warming it up with her touch. “And with what I said about Jiwoo…”

“It's okay. Whatever happens, I promise I’m not gonna be like that asshat,” he assures her. “Or any other asshats you’ve dealt with in the past… Just because we're both your lovers, that doesn't mean we have to be selfish.”

“I know you won't,” her body sways with elation, charmingly swinging her arms with his. “But I also know you've been eyeing her for a while now. This is nothing new for us.”

“I…uhh… What do you mean? I thought we’ve gone through this.” He has nothing else to retort. His inner demon arises due to her teases, while he recalls the moments she might have brought back to him. Moments where he found something in common with Jiwoo.

And with that, he realizes: that's the thing about dating someone who's already in a committed relationship. It's not always easy. Even monogamous ones aren’t either.

From his eyes, Jiwoo isn't too fond of him being around when the three of them are together, even if their girlfriend doesn’t even want him to leave the apartment until he really has to go. At times, he may even be jealous of Jiwoo too, even if he doesn’t admit it to her. Maybe he’s just insecure, or that he is also falling for her. But he knows that’s not his right. Plus, he also suggested going through this complex relationship to begin with and even now, he doesn’t want to give up on her. On them. He’ll do whatever it takes.

“And besides,” she leans right in his left ear. “It's not the first time we've shared someone... I’m sure you’ve considered that.”

They hear Jiwoo slightly raising her voice from the living room. Having finished her quick shower, she’s now in a casual get-up: an oversized pink T-shirt and cargo pants. “Unnie, I’m heading out for a bit. Just gonna buy some groceries at the CVS. Is there anything you both need?”

“Wait here for a minute,” Chaeyeon advises Honggi—which he nods without any look of complaint—before heading to her girlfriend. “What’s the rush, Juju? Can’t we just order them online, like we used to?”

“I can, but… I wanna go outside,” she doubles down on her decision. “It’s more efficient that way, since we’re gonna be cooking dinner tonight.”

“It’s not about Honggi, is it?” she murmurs, even showing her puppy eyes at her.

She shakes her head. “No, no, unnie. I thought we'd talked about this. I like Honggi-ssi as your boyfriend. He’s probably the best one you’ve had since… Forever, actually.”

Chaeyeon inches closer, lovingly kissing her girlfriend. “You really think that, babe?”

“Of course. It’s been six months with no red flags, hasn’t it? Not to mention the fact that you were friends for a year before hitting it off. Besides, it’s my excuse to get some fresh air,” Jiwoo whispers to her beloved with a tempting smirk. “You two have fun, because time’s ticking, unnie.”

Meanwhile, Chaeyeon’s reminder triggers two opposing effects in Honggi, arousal down there and insecurity up in his ego. He knows that relationships don't always stay “lovey dovey” or remain in its honeymoon phase, especially with something like theirs. Way before Chaeyeon, he has never been the best at keeping his relationships very long, but considering the fact that they’re already six months strong, Honggi may as well keep on savoring this special and fascinating situation, even if Chaeyeon may not feel the same level as he does in his heart. He'll do it for her. He'll befriend Jiwoo and respect her in the same way he treats their girlfriend, perhaps just platonically… Only time will tell.

Chaeyeon returns inside the room, meeting Honggi with a more optimistic expression. “You look cheerful. Is there anything I should know?”

“I actually have thought about what you said, Chae,” he avows, slowly taking her hand. “I'll try and get to know Jiwoo. I’ll make a little more effort to say the least.”

“Thank you…” she pecks him on his cheek. “You won't regret it, oppa.”

Their lips touch. A little longer and a lot more tender this time. As they part steadily, Chaeyeon’s eyes hunger at the sight of his erect cock, and she wants to return the favor to his body’s involuntary action. “Oh, hello... Wanna go another round, baby?" she coos, untying the strings of her bathrobe, revealing her naked curves as it falls to the floor.

Honggi grins and attacks her lips, initiating another steamy makeout session. She takes off his shirt while he strips off his boxers, before walking each other on the bed. As he slowly lays her down, the hunger in their eyes match. He's on top this round, slowly inserting his cock inside her shaven cunt once more while she wraps her arms around his neck and her legs on his. Even though he’s feeling her walls tighten around his member a little stronger than before, he persists, maintaining a gentle yet fast pace, igniting a whimper of euphoria from Chaeyeon. An instance of déjà vu that always sends her to a higher plane of pleasure with his touches.

He leans down to peck his lover’s lips. “What level would you like from me, mommy?” he whispers in her right ear. More than half of his length is already inside her womb.

“Go all in, baby,” she pleads, instead of teasing and taunting him like she usually does.

Receiving the green light from her, the man begins his thrusts, inserting his final inches inside Chaeyeon. Accelerating in its speed with every second, motivated by the mindset of pleasing his woman more than himself. As he keeps pounding his girlfriend, she ups the ante by reaching to his chest and licking the sweat off his pecs and neck while her erroneous regions feel more than satisfied by the invasion of his throbbing member.

Watching her breasts bounce once again never fails to keep his cock alive, but nothing beats the act he’s about to do. He leans down once again, kissing her for the hundredth time. She reciprocates, doing the trick that always gets him up and going. Only this time, she lets him do it. As his tongue reaches inside her mouth, Honggi demonstrates his dominance by slowly creating circular motions, swaying her tongue in a sticky dance until a louder moan of submission can be heard from her.

Their lips part, though the trail of saliva breaks while his pounding of her continues. He looks at his beloved, feeling his increased heart rate. She opens her eyes a little wider; a smile forms on her face while feeling the surface beneath her tremble with their grinds.

“Daddy,” leaves her mouth, much to his surprise. “Mommy… is loving you inside her so… Much!”

This may be the first time he's heard that name from her, motivating him to amp up his pumps, regardless of his arms and legs getting sore. Her praise makes him flex his core muscles the longer he’s on top of her, realizing that this position was a plank exercise. A better experience than his usual reps, that is. “I’m glad… I'll do even better… Next time… Mommy!”

“You’re already… doing great… Thank you,” she applauded him, feeling his tip rub her cervix over and over again. “Just keep… doing that… next time. Dom… Dominate momma, please!”

“Ne,” he still submits, nodding rapidly with the rhythm of his hips.

Even while getting pounded, an inflamed idea pops in her mind. “Imagine if… Jiwoo gets to be here with us, oppa,” she sticks her tongue out. “How crazy is that, right? You, inside her… Just like you, inside me now. How… you’d do… us. On this same bed—”

“Whaa..? Hnnnggghh!” They both yelp at his persistent knob slightly growing inside her chambers. Closing his eyes, a part of his mind tries to stop himself from imagining what she stated, but his lust has beaten him to it. “Do you… Mean?”

“You… Know what I… mean,” she purrs, leaving kisses and nibbles on his left shoulder along the way to mutually stimulate her partner. “Clearly… your junior… does.” With it, she spread her legs wider, inciting a “Fuck!” from her while getting railed.

There’s no point in denying to Chaeyeon now, so Honggi simply keeps his mouth shut, giving his main focus on pleasuring her. They would continue grinding on for several more minutes, exchanging each other's moans, groans, teases, and quips like primitives who have only learned modern-day language through the act of sex, that is, until they eventually reach past their limit. Beyond what their bodies can handle on this bed.

“Imma… Gonna…” he grunts, hoping that she would get his unintelligible message.

“Me… tooooo!” she only rasps in agreement. “You.. know… where… to… do it!”

For the second time, Honggi has filled Chaeyeon up to the brim with his warm seed. They’ve reached a state beyond the garden, beyond cloud nine. One as ethereal as the heavens or as perverted as hell. The position reminds them with a reminder: simple is sometimes, if not a lot of times, better. Despite the out-of-world orgasms they just felt, they're brought back to their senses seconds later, in each other's arms. The last ounce of their juices continue leaking on the mattress pad. Should've put a protector in there, Chaeyeon ponders while she laughs by herself. She just had it washed six days ago, after three months of using it. A lesson is learned. She'll just have to keep in her urges a little longer next time they even plan on using the bed in the weeks to come.

Still, she doesn't regret doing it here, especially with the man that’s been making her heart flutter and her nethers tingle twenty-four-seven. Catching their breath for about the nth time, they’ve now agreed to stop for tonight.

“I–uuhh… I… Wanna…” she pants, unable to form her words during her state of awe, still recovering from a breathtaking last orgasm, seconds ago. “Babe… I wanna say…”

“I love… you,” Honggi mumbles. As he thought before, even if she doesn’t feel the same way. It’s better that he lets her know now. Wherever this will lead into. “I know that’s… too soon to say that, but—”

She shuts him up with a kiss, holding back a smile as their lips collided, cherishing this milestone in their relationship. As they part, she follows up two tender pecks, showing her reciprocation. “Dummy, you took my line… I love you too, Honggi-yah.”

His deepest self-doubts have just been proven wrong right there. Perhaps hers were too. Everything becomes clearer, as their heartbeat grows louder, singing in the same range. She gently strokes his hair, reminding him that they both have little left to worry about. Even if it'll be far from the last of his problems, he won't be alone to face a lot of them.

“I’m home!” Jiwoo exclaims from the living room. She walks to the kitchen and places her stacked bag of groceries on the counter. The portion of ingredients she has bought appears to be more than enough to feed them tonight. “Again, I mean,” she murmurs.

“We’ll be out in a moment!” Chaeyeon howls back, dressing up in her clothes alongside Honggi. They can't help but exchange smiles and giggles, hurrying their movement before Jiwoo’s patience can run out. “Don’t you dare start cooking without us!”

“Not a chance! I'm gonna need all the help I can get from you two. Otherwise, you’ll both be eating outside.”

= = =

hello again! if you've reached this ending, then I'll only say that this only the first part to this miniseries. on another note, I will create my masterlist soon, which I will be updating whenever a new work is out. thanks for the read and follow. have a wonderful day!

#triples smut #chaeyeon smut #kim chaeyeon smut #male reader smut #male reader #kpop au #kpop fluff #fluffy smut

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jasminumdew · 9 months ago

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Bear & Honey

Bear!Price x Beekeeper!Reader

Tag: fem reader, bear shifter John Price Word count: 638

It’s the second winter you’ll spend in this town. This one seems quite more brutal, with snow filling the ground in the beginning of November. Your beehives are all wrapped up, prepared for the bitter season. The bees started to become less active than in the warmer seasons since there were no flower fields blooming within this town in this temperature. To assist them, you mixed some sugar syrup and left it on the hive-top feeder. The beehives have been here for only half a year, so you’re not the most experienced when it comes to taking care of them. But your neighbor - John Price - was a great helper. You didn’t miss the way his crinkle eyes deepened when you asked him for help building the beehives. He sometimes stops by after work to check the frames or just to have some tablespoons of honey from you. He always offers to help you out, cause “that’s what neighbors are for, right?”.

However, recently you’ve been quite concerned over his health. John seems to be vulnerable to the cold, you thought, for last winter you never saw him go outside. At first you thought he went out of town, but the dim yellow light of the heater through his windows says otherwise. The only interaction was that every two weeks he texted you, pleading with you to buy him some food and a big jar of wild honey. You didn’t mind driving a few extra miles to help your hot, older neighbor a bit. Poor guy, too sick to take care of himself, so you cooked an extra portion every meal then left it at his front porch.

Last Sunday morning John went over your fences. There are bears around in this area lately, he said, though you’ve never seen or heard one, but John’s been living here for so long, so he must be right. Little did you know, the beehives are all destroyed by this early morning. All the honey was licked and devoured, even the frames were chewed and left the scattered debris all over the yard. You choked out a cry, throat tightening and eyes burning red, seeing months of your hard work dying out in front of you. It cannot be fixed, with the majority of the colony being eaten like this. The fences that John set up himself were also smashed by its massive weight.

You immediately call John to come by, in fear of bears still lurking around. The phone keeps beeping but he never answers. Your heart was beating like a drum in your chest, since your houses were so close to each other, could it be that John has already encountered the bear and was attacked by it? You instantly grab the nearby uncapping knife and run to his house. The front door was wide open, deep scratches on the wall and his wallpaper being torn, the smell of grass and honey lingers in the air of his house exposing the presence of the unwanted intruder. Your body shivers, you slowly head to his kitchen where you heard his voice.

“John? Are you okay?”. Before you finished your sentence, you saw John shape-shift into a giant brown bear just a few meters from you. His head snaps to your direction and runs towards you immediately. Before your head can even process what to do next, he pushes you to fall on your back, using his big furry body to pin you down. “Shh, don’t yell, calm down love”. Your lungs are burning from lack of air as you struggle to push him off of you. “I’m sorry for your hives, darling. I was starving, you’ll understand, right? You’ve been such a good girl for me. I can fix it in the spring, but for now, you’ll stay here with me”.

Note: this is my first time writing fiction so I know it's not really good, but I hope you guys had fun reading this.

#john price #captain john price #bear price #john price x reader #john price cod

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moonshapedbox · 8 days ago

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swan shaped heart — part two

arthur morgan x preacher’s daughter

a/n: OMG where do i begin…first off thank u all sm for all love chapter one received i’m truly so touched!!! this is the first fanfic i’ve ever posted in my life so it means a lot!!! also sorry it took so long to complete part 2, college has been beating my ass as of lately. trying to update semi regularly but we’ll see!! its still extremely self indulgent though once again bc i’m working lots of things out in my life rn that i think arthur can fix. you can read chapter one here <3

tags: lots of fluff and romantic tension :D hint of age gap, kissing, no smut but fairly suggestive, arthur is kind of mischievous, angsty in some parts if u squint, religious themes throughout obviously, no use of y/n (I wrote in 3rd person hehe), no blasphemy bc i’m religious <3 reader is in her twenties. read at ur own risk.

wc: 5.9k

part two – peaches

“You still coming to the picnic?”

Her words reverberated in his ears like tinnitus. He arrived back at his lodging to grab a few things he forgot, throwing and shoving items into his saddlebags. Was he going to the picnic? That’s all she had to say? He looked up at the sky again, the sun barely cracking up the pale blue sky, humidity in the air from the previous day's rain was suffocating.

Truly, he hadn’t decided yet if he was going to change his mind about it all. It was no mistake, the preacher’s daughter stirred up things in him he hadn’t felt for years. It was foolish to attend, he kept reminding himself of that. He needed to get back to camp, there was his own folks to take care of and business to attend to. Dutch was probably in the middle of some half baked scheme that he concocted to have Arthur lead in, John and Abigail were most likely arguing and needed a mediator, and there was the other women, Hosea, and little Jack.

So was he going to the picnic? It was something he would have to ponder on his way back to camp.

For the preacher’s daughter, things were shifting. Big changes and waves of emotion had shaped her irrevocably since that morning. She sat in the pews, front row like always, but for once she wasn’t really listening to her father’s sermon. She wouldn’t nod along to what he was saying, or open her Bible to turn to the verse and chapter he referred to. Instead, her eyes found a place to gaze over and bore a hole into it with her vision, mind wandering off to Arthur. The only times she was brought back was by her mother, who would gently yet lovingly tap her on the knee, to get her attention, silently gesturing to listen to her father. She would continue her days like normal, but completely enamored by Arthur, what he said, what he did–or lack thereof.

A couple of days later– the annual town picnic had finally reared its vague and complicated head. Typically, the picnic was always an event that she had always been enamored with. She looked forward to it every spring– her hand would be the first to raise when asked about volunteers or who should be in charge of planning the event, but now; the idea of going made uneasiness twist in her stomach. The thought of Arthur being there is all that mattered to her, although with their awkward and incomplete farewell, she didn’t know where she stood in his eyes.

The picnic was a lively affair, with almost the whole town participating in the activities. The crowd gathered outside the church where it was being held, enjoying the food and each other’s company. The warm spring breeze picked up the light atmosphere and covered everyone’s spirits with joy. There was music and dancing and lots of laughter. While the preacher’s daughter was usually the one to be in the crowd, socializing with fellow townsfolk– she found herself dismayed, as she sat on the steps of the church, knees pressed to her chest and a weary look staining her face.

“You gonna eat something dear?” her father’s voice broke her out of her trance, “Your mama made that chicken salad you like.” She sees him getting closer and shakes her head, “I’m not very hungry Papa.” she lays her head on her knees. The preacher walks up to her and observes his daughter, before sighing and sitting next to her. “Want to tell me what’s going on? You barely spoke a word all day, hardly participated on Sunday..”

She sighs and hesitates to say anything before continuing, “Remember how I told you Mr. Morgan stopped by the house the other morning? He found my necklace.”

“Yes, it was kind of him,” Her father blinks and nods, “Is this somehow relevant as to why you've been such a sourpuss lately?”

She opened her mouth but then stopped before she could start her sentence. She realized that if she were to tell him exactly what happened—it meant that she would have to tell him everything that took place in the kitchen that morning—the touching, the lewd remarks, and worst of all— she had her innocent and dainty fingers in some strange man’s mouth. This would most certainly kill her father, so she finds a way around it.

“Well, I feel like I might have offended him and I feel bad about it…that’s all.” she explains, it technically wasn’t a lie, a small pang of relief hitting her chest.

“What could you have possibly said that could offend him, dear?” her father asks, sincere in his words, genuinely wanting to make his daughter feel better. For her, this was the tricky part, trying to find the words without saying anything at all, “I told him he needed to leave…because I had things to do that day.”

Technically a lie, technically the truth. It was a moral dilemma she’d contemplate later.

“Aw, is that it?” he gives her a sympathetic smile, “Oh don’t even fret about it I’m sure he’s alright. Honestly, it says more about him if he took offense to a sweet ol’ thing like you.” He lovingly pinches her cheek and plants a kiss on top of her head, before rising to his feet, “You’ve always had a problem being in your own head too much sweetheart.” She nods in agreement, wanting the conversation to end, “I guess so. Thank you papa.”

A voice calls out to her father, interrupting their conversation. He looks over to the source of where the voice came from. He pats her on the back before walking off to greet more of his congregation that decided to stop by. Maybe her father was right, perhaps she was in her head too much. Of course, her father did not have the context like she did, but this false sense of reassurance passed the time well.

She continues to think about what Arthur said.

“Ever think about a man lovin’ on you baby?”

She is now. Arthur planted the seeds of desire in her, and the roots that grew traveled up her veins and made her heart race. She couldn’t get him out of her head no matter how hard she tried. She looks to the farthest distance she can, wondering what he was doing right now– what he was wearing and what path he was travelling. Far out, she notices a brown figure moving at a rapid pace, her eyes narrow. It’s just a horse– a beautiful one at that; a deep chestnut brown. Her gaze softened as it got closer in view, she noticed the horse had a splash of white on its nose– with a man mounted on top.

Her head lifts from her lap, was that him? It couldn’t be–or it could. She squints a bit harder, waiting for the man to come closer. She leans forward in her lap, eventually standing on the steps. She could recognize that gambler’s hat from anywhere.

It was him, Arthur had come back.

“Mr. Morgan!” she runs to him and looks up at him on his horse, “You made it.” she smiles. He gets off his horse and secures it, “Of course. Why would I not be here? You invited me.” he responds flatly, not caring to make eye contact with her.

She looks down and back up again, “I know but that was before…” she reads his face, pausing an explanation to feel out if he knew what she was implying, “Listen, Mr. Morgan, about the other morning, I–”

“No need darlin’,” he puts his hand out before dropping it to his side, “I understand,” He puts his weight on one hip. “I was planning on headin’ back, and I–uh made it halfway, then I got to thinkin’…” he pauses while scanning her features for a moment, “And I came off a little strong. I realize that now. Didn’t mean to frighten you if I did.” he looks down at his boots, still caked with mud from the rainstorm days ago.

She gingerly touched his hand, “All is forgiven, Mr. Morgan.” He looks up at her under the brim of his hat, and she swears she can see a hint of a smile and a smudge of red grace on his cheek.

So can her horrified father, who had been watching the interaction between the potential lovebirds from a distance the whole time. A worrisome dread sunk in him as he decided to make his presence known. He hurries toward them before calling out,

“Mr. Morgan! That you, son?”

Arthur whips his head back around, “Father! —uh reverend—shit”

“Wrong denomination son” he chuckles, loosening his tie. “I also would appreciate you to refrain from using profanity around my daughter. She’s a impressionable young lady y’know”

“Of course. Sorry, sir.” Arthur flashed a sheepish grin, before realizing he hadn’t shook the preacher’s hand yet. Out of respect he extends his hand, and they lock into a strong handshake. A pang of guilt hit Arthur, here he was shaking the man of the Lord’s hand when not even two days ago he was all over this man’s only daughter, in his own kitchen nonetheless.

“I invited Mr. Morgan to the picnic, figured he might want to visit a little more before he leaves.” she explains, innocently swaying her hips, giving her skirt a little movement as she rocked side to side.

“I can see that dear,” The preacher smiles at his daughter before shoving his hands into his pockets and trying to make friendly conversation. Anything to try and keep Arthur from sweeping his daughter off her feet, “So, how’s that cattle ranch of yours, son?”

Cattle ranch? Oh right, that was the story he pitched the town initially. It was the perfect small lie given the circumstance. The cattle rancher to save the town from cattle thieves, you couldn’t write a better story. “Just fine. Hard work. You know how it is. Cattle can be…temperamental.”

Stupid stupid stupid. He was bombing this and he knew it was over the second the words left his mouth. He grimaced in his mind at the interaction.

“Right,” the preacher drawls the word, trying to detect any honesty in Arthur’s claim, “Well regardless of your business, we’re glad you could join us,” he says, tone friendly but his words having an edge to them.

She smiles, “We got plenty of food why don’t we eat–”

“I thought you weren’t hungry?” her father whips his head to look at her.

She flashes a half smile, “Well I am now, ‘sides I don’t want to be rude and not eat in front of our guest, papa.”

Her father looked between two, he knew exactly what was happening and he didn’t like it one bit. He had no reason to be distrustful of Arthur, after all he did save his town from that reckless gang, but something wasn’t right. Although, to save his beloved daughter from embarrassment, he decided to play along– for now.

The eating and socializing made time fly by, Arthur enjoyed the peaceful and innocent fun with everyone, it made him forget about all his stress and worries for a couple of hours. He smiled along to a song played on a mandolin, he listened to her fill him in on all the local happenings that occurred while he was away, she clung onto his bicep as he won a couple games of dominoes against the shopkeeper, and before either of them knew it– the sun was starting to set. Arthur sat next to her at the picnic table, enjoying the sounds of soft conversations in the distance, but mostly he enjoyed her company. He exhaled deeply and looked over at her, “Let’s take a quick stroll, whaddya say?” She looked back at him, “That sounds lovely, but the sun is setting…I don’t know…”

“And?” He stands up and stretches up as tall as he can, she looks over his huge, broad frame growing taller as he pulls upward, her heart skips a beat at the sight of his muscles moving under his shirt as he shifts around. “You’ll be safe with me, let’s go girl.” he motions with his head and grabs his satchel. His sudden firm tone made her pulse quicken, not fully understanding why she liked it as much as she did.

Eventually, she and Arthur wander off into the path into a nearby trail, enough daylight to see where they were going as well as the beauty of the mountainous region, she looks up at him, his face concentrated on where they were headed.

“So where you takin’ me?” she asks.

“Nowhere in particular, unless you got somethin’ in mind,” he responds as he adjusts the weight of his satchel. She thinks for a moment and a bright smile spreads across her face, “I got an idea, there’s a lake nearby, it’s so beautiful. You’ll love it I promise.”

“Okay, the lake it is then,” he nods. Despite not speaking a word to each other, she smiled to herself that she was finally getting to spend more time with him like she always dreamed of. “Whatcha smilin’ ‘bout?” Arthur’s voice broke the prolonged silence. She shook her head, “Nothin’. Just having fun that’s all.” Arthur smiles back at her, “That reminds me, I almost forgot somethin’,” he stops in his tracks and she follows his lead.

“I know you’re supposed to bring somethin’ for a picnic and I didn’t know what to bring but–,” he reaches into his messenger bag and pulls out a can, “hope you like it.”

She grins with playful confusion, “A can of….” she tries to examine the can further, the text on the label rubbed off almost completely, “...peaches?” She walks slowly alongside him, still looking down at the can.

He nods, “You like peaches, hon?” strolling in tandem alongside her.

“Yeah, I like ‘em even better in pies though,” she responds.

“Peach pie?” He raises a brow, “I ain’t ever had that before…apple, yes. But peach? That’s a new one.”

“Oh I gotta make you one then. They’re real easy.” she says before letting a beat of silence encompass them.

She exhales an airy chuckle, “Reminds me of the time when Papa took me to a preacher’s convention in Saint Denis – well more like I begged him to take me– but anyway while I was there I had a peach pie with ice cream. Ice cream of all things, can you believe it?” she grins brightly, “They call it peach a la mode, isn’t that brilliant? Makes me feel sophisticated” she rambles, her hands gesticulating for emphasis.

He scoffs, “So that’s what rich folks are eatin’ huh? They can’t be ok with pie itself they gotta go add ice cream on it too.” he muttered, gesturing broadly as they strolled down the path together. She laughs loudly, “You’re a silly man Mr. Morgan… Ain’t seen a person upset with ice cream before.” He shook his head, he wasn’t trying to make her laugh, but it was like a symphony to his ears.

“Was it good?” His question broke the beat of silence.

“Hm?”

“The peach el mood?” he motions.

She bursts out laughing again, “A la mode? Definitely, it was divine.”

There it was again–he smiles lovingly at the sound of her laugh.

“You might have to make that for me too,” he grins and shoves his hands in his pockets.

The sound of both them walking down to the lake absorbed any beat of silence that could have been there. The crunching of gravel beneath their feet and sound of birds chirping accompanied their walk. Arthur picked up rocks he thought were compelling enough to shove into his jacket pocket. He picks up another rock and fidgets with it, and glances over at her for a second, eyes trailing down to her slightly exposed sternum which cradled that heavenly swan pendant necklace.

“You like swans, huh?” he inquired, throwing the rock like a skipping stone. “Why swans? And not like– I don't know a dove or somethin’.”

“A dove? That’s awfully cliche don’t you think?” she smirks. They finally make it to the lake. Seeing a big tree log that somehow found itself at the base of the lake, they both take a seat there. Arthur shrugs at her previous comment and adjusts next to her.

“I just like ‘em that’s all. Y’know it’s said that swans represent beauty, grace, wisdom. I think it’s a good symbol to look upon. It’s always been quite reassuring to me.” she places the can of peaches she had been holding down onto the ground.

“Ah, so it’s your lucky charm?” he grinned.

She waves him off, “Oh Mr. Morgan, I don’t believe in luck,” she looks out into the lake, “To tell you the truth, for as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to see a swan in the wild. I’m holdin’ out for hope I’ll get see one.”

“You will someday, I’m sure.” He looked over at her peaceful demeanor, his heart felt so warm just by being in her presence. The realization that all he wanted was to be with her overcame him. As it came, a familiar thick and oily guilt suddenly swallowed him upon the thought that he hadn't been exactly truthful with her. Quite frankly, he was a liar– lied about what he did for a living, lied about the true nature of his arrival 4 years ago, the lies started to collapse on his throat. If he was even to consider a life with her in it, he had to tell her everything– there was no cattle ranch, the only money he had technically didn’t belong to him, he was originally going to rob her town– that he is an outlaw.

He wanted to make this work, he lost so much in his life already that he knew she was an opportunity of genuine love and care. Surely enough, someone so loving and forgiving like her would be able to handle his baggage, right? If not, he was willing to put it all on the line anyway. He rubs his jaw and exhales a breath before speaking.

“Look darlin’, there’s something I need to tell you–”

“--You gotta girl ain’t you?” she interrupts flatly.

He exhales a laugh, “No, I ain’t got a girl. Not for a long time at least,” taken aback by her boldness, he continues to chuckle to himself.

“Why are you laughin’? It’s not that much of an odd assumption to make. You’re handsome and smart and you got that big cattle ranch so it’s not crazy to assume gals wouldn’t be all over you–”

“You think I’m handsome?” he whipped his head to look at her, his cheeks warmed at the compliment, trying to hide the surprise in his voice as he never truly felt comfortable or confident with himself.

“Stop it, you know what I meant,” she blushes, “I’m just sayin’ you’re a catch, that’s all.” He continues to smile at her bashful ramblings, shaking his head at her behavior. A sense of mischief creeps up in his mind, and he couldn’t help but entertain it, “Anyways, why ain’t you married yet? I’d figure some young buck would come sniffin’ ‘round after you as soon as you got to marryin’ age.” he asks, watching her put a hand over her face.

“Very classy Mr. Morgan, you’re a real gentleman,” she groans, resting her head in her hand, “I don’t know. I don’t like any of the men at my church. They’re…stupid.”

“How so? Despite the obvious,” he inquires.

She exhales and tries to think of the words to articulate how she feels, “It seems they want me barefoot and pregnant and that life–” she pauses, “I don’t believe that’s what God intended for me. It’s not my path." She picked up a stick and started tracing patterns on the dirt.

“What’s your path then?” His heart softens at the conviction in her tone.

She hesitates for a moment, scared that he would judge her for passions. He nods at her, “You know you can tell me anythin’ darlin’” he says softly, wanting to know what was in that beautiful mind of hers.

She exhales again, “If I may be so bold– I want to preach,” the tension leaving her body after she confessed, “and I want real love– but I don’t know if I’m the marryin’ kind… I think if I met the right man, I’d marry. But only a man that would let me be free…I don’t think I’ll ever find that Mr. Morgan.”

I could be that. If you allowed me to. He thought to himself, but he was not brave enough to voice it. Instead, he gives her a sympathetic smile.

“Ah.” he said softly, before crossing his shin over his thigh.

“You don’t think I can do it huh?” she murmurs, kicking her feet mindlessly against the stump of the tree. His brows furrowed at her accusation, “No I do, I think you can. Hell I met a lot gals who fight for stuff like that,” he gesticulates, “I could picture you doin’ it.” he smiles.

She suddenly remembers what he said at breakfast the other morning: “If I was guaranteed you’d be the one preachin’ then maybe I’d start goin’ to church.”

She grins to herself at the thought, “Hey, if I preach does that means you’ll start comin’ to church.”

Arthur scoffs playfully, “Is that so? Who said anythin’ ‘bout that?”

“You said it yourself at breakfast!” she lets out an airy chuckle.

Arthur shakes his head before leaning in closer to her, “Well…that ain't what I meant by that, so we’re just gon’ have to see. Aren’t we?” he smirks. She looks over his face, blush reddening her ears. The moment was so perfect, he wanted to bask in its tranquility. The opportunity to tell her the truth about his livelihood was fleeting and before he knew it, it was gone. He couldn’t get it back and he hoped that soon he could find another opening. An opening that was perfect and would hurt her the least.

She breaks her gaze and looks down at the can of peaches beside her, “Well, I don’t know about you but I could go for a little sweet.” She leans over to pick up the can. He gazes her over body while she wasn’t looking, staring at the soft curves of her body and before stealing a prolonged glance of her rear, “Yep–somethin’ sweet would be real good right about now,” he hums, trying to hide the growl in the back of his throat. She sits back up again and hands him the can of peaches for him to open. The act of him stabbing the top with his knife and prying it open made her feel warm. He passes the can back to her, letting her have the first bite. She scoops a piece up and crams it into her mouth before the juice drips on her dress.

“Mmph, really good!” she exclaims while still chewing, “Where did you get these–” his hand cuts off her sentence as he wipes away a small droplet of juice from the corner of her mouth. She stops immediately, gazing back at him. A pang of excitement reverberates in the pit of her stomach. It was biscuits and gravy on Sunday all over again.

He smiles softly back at her without a second thought, before taking a piece of the fruit out for himself. She watches him eat the slice of peach, briefly sucking the excess juice off his fingers. So messy and desperate–something about watching him eat like a feral animal sparked a need in her so deep that she abruptly whips her head away just to attempt to hide it.

Although, these were not new feelings she was having: not before he filled her imagination with salacious ideas, not before he lovingly stroked her chin or accompanied her to the picnic– it started just before breakfast on Sunday morning, with her finger in his mouth. Although Arthur was no fool–oh the contrary, he could hone in on this like a falcon. The memory of her fingers in his mouth would plague him at all times. He decides it was ultimately time to break the tension.

“Honey you can’t tell me that having your fingers in my mouth ain’t done something to you. You haven’t been able to look at me the same since,” a growl in his voice reverberates in him, trying to keep his urges in line.

“What?” she swallows thickly. “I-I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Yes you do. Don’t be coy.” He places the can next to him and turns his body toward her, “I know that’s how you was raised– to be ashamed of it. But you can’t go denyin’ these feelings forever.”

“It’s not like that…I’m not ashamed. I-I’m not.” she stammers. Arthur frowns, he can see right through her walls.

“Then why’re you always shakin’ like a damn near leaf whenever I get ‘round you?” he questions.

“I don’t know.” She murmurs, her shoulders going limp in defeat. He gazes back at her wilted expression before reaching out and gently cradling her hand, “Y’know darlin...people lovin’ on each other, ain’t nothin’ wrong with that,” softly tracing patterns on the back of her palm, “It’s beautiful, really.” She gazes up into his eyes, her heart rate picking up at the sight of him being so close to her. He scans her face before glancing down at her slightly parted lips.

“Mr. Morgan?” she whispers.

“Mhm?”

“Are you gonna kiss me?”

“Do you want me to, baby?” He whispers back.

She stares up into his eyes and nods ever so softly. A genuine and loving smile spreads across his face. He inhales gently, before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. As he gently cups her jaw in his right hand, he leans down, and before he realizes, she instinctively turns her head away. “I’m scared” her voice barely above a murmur, “ain’t never done this before.”

He couldn’t deny that the idea of being her first kiss made his pulse quicken, and as guilty as he felt, he also couldn’t deny her naivety turned him on beyond belief. Of course, part of him also felt bad for being her first kiss. He thought to himself that she deserved a better man, but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted this just as bad as she did.

“Well what do you know ‘bout it?” He strokes her hair gently.

“Nothin’ much…just what I've read in those dime store romance novels.” she murmurs, somewhat embarrassed at her inexperience. He tenderly strokes her cheek with his thumb, “Shh it’s okay sweetheart. Just relax and let me lead– can you do that for me?” he whispers lovingly.

She nods and instinctively closes her eyes, he tilts her head up and leans in to press a warm and tender kiss on her lips– even softer than he ever imagined them to be. He kisses her again, and again, before pausing and gazing lovingly into her eyes. He wishes he could live in this moment forever, “You okay so far?” He murmurs against her lips, softly nodding at her, she nods back. The mix of her orange and vanilla perfume catching in the slightly smoky and chill dusk air is intoxicating to him.

He leans back down he kisses her again, but this one was different. It was longer and deeper than the one from before, he deepened the kiss even further for a moment, working his fingers through her hair. Both of their heartbeats rise in tandem, she leans against his chest and places a hand on his thick thigh, trying to find balance against him. Something that could be acquainted with electricity pulses in her stomach, never truly realizing a sensation could feel so good. His tongue grazes her lip and she softly gasps at the feeling. Surely the taste of his lips would sear into her mouth for eternity, smoky and something that was attributed to only him. His lips still sweetened from the nectar of the peaches they consumed together, now all she wanted was to consume him.

He pulls away and rests his forehead against hers, panting softly. “Arthur,” she exhales gently, her breath fanning his neck. The ease of his first name leaving her tongue made goosebumps rise on the back of his neck and arms. His hands still tangled in her hair, making their way down to rest on her shoulders, “My sweet babydoll, so so perfect.” he whispers.

He plants a soft yet firm kiss on her cheek and back to her lips again. She sinks into his arms. She feels so safe yet, a sensation akin to lead creeps in and weighs her soul, an anchor of remorse that makes her stomach drop. Without second thought, she pulls away from the kiss and cries. Fear spikes in Arthur’s chest at the sight of tears rolling off her supple cheeks, “Oh no no no baby, what happened? Did I do something wrong?” he panics, terrified he hurt her or crossed a boundary he wasn’t aware of.

It truly wasn’t anything he did, she really didn’t know why she was crying. Truthfully, she was overwhelmed with feelings and emotions that she didn’t know how or what to do with. The way he gently cared for comfort and boundaries touched her beyond words or actions, she never felt so loved by another man before. Was this love that she was feeling? She didn’t know what to make of it all– and it scared the hell out of her.

“No…I don’t think so…W-we shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry,” her lip continues to quiver and tears roll down and drop into her lap. His heart twists in chest at her words, his mouth partly open from bewilderment, “Stop it. You don’t mean that,” he murmurs, “Tell me what’s going on darlin’.”

She cries again and the sight chisels away at his heart, “I-I don’t know…you did nothin wrong. I just ain’t ever felt like this before,” she reaches up to fidget with her swan pendant necklace once more. He knew exactly what was going on. She was touch starved-- it was years of pent up and repressed romantic desire that was finally boiling over– for the first time in her life, she was finally starting to learn how to love romantically.

He gives her another sympathetic smile and pulls her into his big arms, “S’okay angel, ain’t no shame in what we did,” he breathes. “It’s all new, I got it. We’ll go slower.” After a moment, she stops crying and pulls away, feeling a bit embarrassed. He can see the crimson spread across her cheeks, “I’m sorry Arthur. I don’t know what came over me.”

He shakes his head and strokes her hair, “Don’t worry ‘bout it baby, I was just scared I did somethin’ wrong,” he pauses, “or you didn’t like it.” Her eyes widen in realization, “Oh, no not at all! I liked it a lot…maybe too much.” she softly responds, her words carry an edge of caution.

“Yeah?” he smiles, tongue darting out just enough to wet his bottom lip. She nods in return, whispering a ‘thank you’ before giving him small kiss on the cheek to reinforce it.

She looks up at the sky, the sun finally tucking itself behind the mountain, “We need to get back to the picnic now. My parents are probably waitin’ for me,” she stands and fixes her dress.

Arthur nods and rises to his feet. “I’ll walk you back, hm?”

She nods and waits for him, "Arthur?"

He perks up at his name as he starts to walk with her, she looks down at her feet, "Once again, I'm really sorry I cried.” she replies softly, feeling humiliated by her reaction, "I really do like your company."

“No need to apologize, I got you girl," his big hand cradles the small of her back as they walk back to the church together, " 'Sides, we got plenty time to practice anyway. Get you more comfortable." He grins. She smiles at the thought, deciding to fill the silence again with small talk.

“Wasn’t the lake beautiful?” she asks.

“Y’know I couldn’t see it too well. Got distracted by somethin’ else.” he smiles to himself.

The sun had set by the time they got back, the picnic had been over for a while now, and there was no one in the church. So Arthur decided to walk her back to her house. He didn’t realize that they were gone for that long– his stomach dropped when they finally arrived at her home, seeing the preacher, sitting on his porch whilst rocking back and forth in his rocking chair. He and Arthur share a look, before he springs up at the sight of the two. He makes his way down the porch steps.

“Papa we–”

“Get in the house young lady.” he ordered firmly yet calmly.

“Papa please don’t be mad we were just walking around and–”

“I’m not…mad...just do what I say and go inside.”

She looks up at Arthur and nods before scurrying away, mouthing a goodbye to him as her boots clunked against the porch steps. Arthur’s blood pressure rises as he tries to de-escalate the situation, “I ain’t mean no harm sir– we really was just walkin’ and talkin’.”

The preacher shook his head in disapproval, “Y’know, I’m really disappointed in you son. See, I gave you the benefit of the doubt that you had pure intentions here– especially with my only daughter around, but I guess I was a fool.” Arthur glares under the brim of his gambler’s hat, narrowing his eyes at the preacher, “What you mean by that exactly?”

“Don’t play dumb, boy…I see the way you been lookin’ at her.” he says with an accusatory tone. Arthur cocks his head to the side, “And what way is that?” he responds, feigning innocence.

The preacher shakes his head and breathes a humorless chuckle in disbelief of Arthur’s pretend innocence, “--Like a dog licking its chops for a bite of somethin’ he shouldn’t have.”

Ah. Of course…

Arthur exhales a chuckle, “Well sir– If I was, I would have already taken a bite by now, if that’s what you’re implyin’.” he smirks and pats him on the shoulder twice, before walking off. The statement makes the preacher’s blood boil, “I ain’t stupid! I been your age before! You stay away from her, you hear me boy?!” he calls out to Arthur.

He whips his head around and saunters back to the preacher, “Y’know your lil girl ain’t gonna be yours forever. She’s a beautiful young woman and men are lookin’ at her different now,” he leans in closer, “Now you got a decision to make. ‘Cause one of these days some man is gon’ come along for her, and I can bet you anythin’ he’s gon’ be worse than me,” there’s an edge to Arthur’s voice that alerts the preacher, but he would never give Arthur the satisfaction of seeing him buckle. He stares blankly back at him.

Arthur nods slowly, “You can think about that when you say your prayers tonight,” he turns to walk away, looking to the right of him to catch a glimpse of her bedroom window, hoping to see her one last time. He chuckles to himself, before calling back to her father.

“'Night, preacher man.”

thank u for reading thus far !!! once again thank u for all the support it means the world. taglist is currently open so lemme know if u wanna be added <3

taglist 🏷️ @dilf-luvr-4evr @joelsprettyprincess @i-will-give-you-love @necktattooed

#i think i proofread it okay i'm tired of rereading it bc im starting to overthink now #also sorry i keep using food as plot device it will happen again #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 community #— rinnie writes ♡

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twistedlovelines · 3 months ago

Note

(Waddles in here at 4am like the insomniac I am)

Forgot to mention last ask— I got fired since you were last 'really active', lol.

As a vers switch, I tend bounce between sub & dom thoughts (and lean towards Yuu's circumstances). However, consider the following: being a sugar baby for some of the boys (given that Yuu is broke & most would have more money than them)... only for them to realize that sometimes, the companionship you provide can come in different forms. When y'all started talking about it, you agreed that he would take the lead more. However, after a particularly stressful period of time, you offer em comfort in the form of taking control & getting em fucked out of their minds.

Need to see their eyes rolling back, cheeks damp with tears, drooling as they're unintelligibly mumbling about how "they can't take anymore" even tho he's cum so much already— oh, you're shooting blanks at this point? I guess we can take a break. You did so good, sweetheart.

—🐈‍⬛

!! i hope you're doing ok babe :(( hopefully u can rest in the meantime, but ik the job markets Rough rn

wc: 850-ish

tags: (gn! reader, nsfw, mdni, overstimulation, sub! Azul, “baby” used for Azul)

yessss i can see this happening with azul in particular!!! after all, he has his needs but. not really the desire nor time to start up a proper relationship. besides, how could he resist such a tempting opportunity sitting in front of him? the ramshackle prefect, with little to nothing to their name but that broken down dorm, their cat, and the clothes on their back...of course he wants to help you! he's a businessman through and through, and letting such a precious opportunity go would be a waste.

he's seen the way you look at him, the flicker of desire in your gaze as your eyes skirt over his figure. assessing him.

he asks you to give him hand jobs first. nothing fancy- just a way for him to get work done faster when he's holed up in his office late at night. its nice, he thinks, when you neatly clean yourself up before leaving without him even needing to say a word.

its different, tonight.

He's been in his office more than his bedroom as of late, despite his dedication to sleeping properly (business cannot prosper on a weary mind, after all). Yet a recent lack of revenue (due to the nature of the first years being less competent than last years') has forced him to manage the fallout himself.

It's unbecoming of him. His blazer has been haphazardly thrown over a guest chair, and his hair's gone askew, his hands having run through them in an attempt to self-soothe.

Still, Azul's never been great at soothing himself.

It's Jade who calls you. Politely asks you to attend to Azul since he seems to be too busy to call you himself. Says a break might do him some good- something to get things off his mind.

You agree easily once he mentions giving you a bonus on top of what Azul usually pays you: a favor.

It's suspicious, but you take it anyways. Favors from Jade of all people are rare, and what he's asking for isn't exactly demanding. Azul's not exactly difficult to please.

Not when it comes to your touch.

You slip in easily enough, the spare key Azul had given you coming in handy. He doesn't seem to notice your presence at first, mumbling something along the lines of putting any papers in the guest chair. With a fond sigh, you make your way to drape yourself over the back of his chair.

"Aw, have you been working too much? Poor thing," you coo.

He jolts up in surprise, face snapping to yours as his eyes widen. His hair, having fallen from his signature appearance, moves easily as you brush it aside to place a kiss on his forehead. Azul melts under the soft touch, but freezes a second later.

“Did Jade call you?”

“Maybe.”

Without skipping a beat, you move to settle in his lap, running your hands down his arms to settle them around your waist.

“Still, it’s been a while since you’ve called me. I’ve missed you, you know,” you purr, loosening his tie.

“I’ve been- ah- busy,” he retorts breathily. The pressure of your lower half gently grinding against his own is delicious, but with how busy he’s been, he’s far more sensitive than usual.

“Since when are you not?”

He feels your mouth smile against his throat as you pepper love bites along the pale skin. The heat of your skin is delightful under his fingers, and he moves them under your shirt to skim along the curve of your spine.

A soft moan escapes him as you roll your hips against his with a particular force, blunt nails digging into the fat of your hips instinctively.

“Already close, Azul?” You tease, nipping the lobe of his ear.

This is your favorite part of having sex with Azul, you think.

He huffs, turning his head to the side. A pretty blush has bloomed across his cheeks, the color complimenting his silvery lashes. His bottom lip is swollen from his efforts to stifle his moans- despite his office being thoroughly soundproof. You cup his cheek with affection and sigh as he nuzzles into your palm, seeking comfort on the edge of his release.

“That’s alright baby, you can cum.”

A peek of tongue flashes out of his mouth at your words, and desire curls hot in your gut as you watch him lick at your palm in an attempt at self-soothing, hips rutting unsteadily against yours.

You let him continue like that for a moment before withdrawing your hand and kissing him properly, shushing his whines.

"Oh? Still have some tension in you, Azul? Maybe cumming a few more times will help with that.” He shivers at your words, baring his neck to you as you lave your tongue over a hickey you had left on his neck. Only an incoherent mumble makes it through his lips, but its damning all the same.

“Good.”

reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

#azul ashengrotto x reader #twst x reader #twst smut #twisted wonderland x reader #moth.flutters #🐈‍⬛ anon #musings.by.lamplight

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 19 days ago

Note

I remember you did character opinion bingos of the twst charas, has your opinion changed significantly for any of them since then, whether positive or negative? Since it’s been awhile since you first made those and many stories have been released after that

[Referencing this tag!]

It’s hard to compare characters using Bingo boards, so I’ve included the current version of my personal character tier list for your reference. As I tend to say when I discuss my character preferences, these are just my opinions and are not meant to invalidate your opinions.

To answer some commonly asked questions (as I inevitably get these every time I reshare my tier list):

Why I don’t like Vil

Why I don’t like Skully

Why I don’t like Malleus (there’s multiple posts for this one; please see my pinned post and scroll down to the “I noticed that you don’t like Malleus. Why?” section to see the whole collection)

As for characters who have shifted since 2022:

Cater went up a tier. I explained why I don't like Cater in this post; it essentially boils down to him being a clout chaser and his annoying lingo (which is only made more frequent in the localization). However, Cater showed significant self-reflection and character growth in book 7. He also showed me a lot of his "cool" side, particularly in Ace, Trey, and even Riddle's dreams. You can read more about what Cater does specifically in these segments in this post and this post!

Jack went up a tier. I have always thought that he was lacking in character compared to the others in the cast. It doesn't help Jack's case that I also don't enjoy his design or general character traits or him being one massive friggin' DOG. However, Jack's dream in book 7 sheds some much-needed light on the extent to which he admires his dorm leader--something which I felt was not fully explored in book 2. You can read more about what exactly goes down in that dream here. I also must attribute some of Jack's ascension to @/tinyfantasminha, who has a really unadulterated appreciation for the big fella. It's been really enlightening listening to them explain why they love him so much.

Kifaji went up a tier. This is not so much because of anything Kifaji did in canon, but moreso because Leona's dream made me reevaluate my previous understanding of Kifaji. Dream!Kifaji has the distinction of being the first non-antagonistic NPC and actively pleads with the dreamer to "open his eyes". While this isn't something that the real Kifaji is doing, I think the mere fact that Leona's psyche manifested the grand chamberlain as his voice of reason implies Kifaji played a bigger role in Leona's upbringing than he would like to let us believe. For as much as Leona bitches and moans about the old man... It must have been Kifaji his main ally and source of comfort in the palace. With his father ill, his brother caught up in royal duties, and the other servants resentful of him, Kifaji was the one playing chess with his second prince, supporting him emotionally in his time of need. When I think back on Tamashina Mina, too... Kifaji doesn't shame Leona for things he cannot help. Yes, he tells Leona off for not respecting traditions or behaving rudely, but he doesn't talk down his abilities. No, Kifaji actually recognizes his talent and intellect, unlike the other servants who cower in fear or hold up the first prince instead.

Sebek went up a tier. Bro really made out like a bandit in book 7; he's the one person who gets consistent character development throughout its monsterous 290+ part run thanks to his interactions with the other first years centering him and that promise made during the farewell party early in the book. We also have Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas to thank for extra content which allows Sebek to shine and demonstrate his growth.

***Book 7 conclusion UPDATE:***

Lilia dropped several tiers. I felt that although he is a loving father, he too often enables Malleus's worst tendencies. It happens so frequently it got to the point where I could no longer tolerate it.

Not really a character going up or down, but I axed the "love ya <3" tier which previously existed above "unfortunately enjoy", as I felt it was just not a good use of space to make a tier entirely for one character. By that technicality, Jade dropped down a tier. The more I thought about it, I realized he really annoyed me in Azul's dream by wasting time. Jade also hasn't gotten any interesting content as of late, so I feel like that also contributes to my shift in feelings.

... Honorable mention goes out to Trey, who almost dropped down a tier simply for an uncomfortable implication his dream had 😭

If you're curious, other characters that have changed positioning from 2020 to 2022 are:

Jade went up a few tiers. He basically shot up to replace Azul. His personality ended up being what I had expected Azul's to be. Bonus points for being a butler (one of my favorite archetypes).

Azul dropped several tiers. He used to be my favorite character (around the time of Twst JP's release), but he fell from grace after Azul was revealed to have a much... "squishier" more bulliable true personality behind his cool, collected persona. Just not a fan of this type of character.

Leona went up several tiers. Book 2 was an awful first impression for him. Most other showings are MUCH better. If you want an extended explanation of my own journey with learning to accept this asshole, please see this post.

Idia went up a few tiers. My opinion of him mainly improved after book 6 and Glorious Masquerade. I like Idia primarily when he's being a good big brother figure.

Rook dropped down a tier. Leona has basically claimed his old spot. I think I just became a little annoyed that he doesn't get much expansion of his lore/background. I get it, part of his appeal is that he's mysterious. Still frustrating that we barely get to know anything about him, even when we get to literally see inside his mind/dream :/

Malleus dropped down several tiers. I was pretty neutral on the guy when the game first launched, feeling like I didn't have enough information on him to make a judgment. However, the longer the game went on, the more and more I found myself really disliking the guy (again, you can see my extensive reasoning for this in my pinned post's FAQ section). Even if the ending to book 7 is somehow perfect in every way, I don't know if it would drastically improve my opinion of him.

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blessedarethebinarybreakers · 10 days ago

Text

Hi! I'm alive!

I have not been very active or responsive here for months; I've chosen to (/ in some cases had to) prioritize other things of late. But I'm still here! I'll share some of the things I've been up to under the readmore, but I'll start with this:

I'm really sorry to folks whose asks have gone unanswered.

I will try to get through some this month; but I won't manage to get through them all. If you are super in need of an answer, dm or send another ask letting me know and I'll make sure to prioritize yours <3

You can also try searching through my blog for answers; see this post for some of my most-used tags so you can search by topic.

Stuff I've been up to:

This past fall I was over the moon to be invited into several wonderful projects!

Two involved liturgy collections; one won't be out till Advent, but the other thing is A Sanctified Art's "Everything in Between" Lenten worship materials — I wrote a combined Maundy Thursday / Good Friday service for the collection.

The other project was a book coming out in spring 2026 on ministry with disabled youth. I almost couldn't believe it when I got an email inviting me to write a chapter of an anthology that will also hold the writings of real authors I've read! I wrote my chapter on "cripping" youth ministry by:

universalizing access (no more accomodations only for youth who have managed to get a diagnosis — everyone deserves to have their needs met);

integrating "crip genius / disabled wisdom" (drawing especially from Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha's writing);

and incorporating what Laverne Cox calls possibility models into lesson plans — for the purposes of youth ministry, this would include figures from scripture, across (Christian & other) history, and into the present who model possibilities beyond the absent or miserable futures society lays out for disabled, BIPOC, queer, and otherwise marginalized persons.

I'm also seeking to.....go back to school!

I'm a scholar at heart and I miss the chance to research and discuss in an academic community. I actually just got my rejection letter from Emory's PhD in religion program last week :(

I'm not surprised — it's an incredibly competitive program and I don't have the experience under my belt that some applicants likely do. Still. Sigh. I have big tangled Feelings about it, but I'll probably save those for my other more personal blog, @a-queer-seminarian. But I just submitted my application for Emory's Candler School of Religion's Doctor of Ministry program! which is a much less intense doctorate than a PhD, made for ministers to complete while continuing their usual work.

Also, its abbreviation is DMin, pronounced Demon. Which I'm sure I'll keep making jokes about long past everyone in my life finds it funny lmao

Finally, I've been working hard at working...less hard.

I've been in Autistic burnout since at least seminary, but still have pushed myself to get a certain amount of things done every month. This past year or so, my bodymind has been teaching me the hard lesson that I just. can't. do that anymore.

I've been trying to practice what I preach, to embrace crip time — for crip time is sabbath time is God's time. And we truly are beloved; we don't need to "produce" a damn thing to earn that love. Part of being in solidarity, of acknowledging our interdependence with God, humans, and the created world, is letting ourselves be cared for. Finding small creative ways to show our care.

In 2024 I finally did things I just "never got around to" before, like trying out new medications (wellbutrin & trazodone my beloved <3) and getting my labs done (turns out my body doesn't make its own folate so now I get it in pill form and I think it's really helped my energy and mood! Aaand I've been going to therapy. And trying to refocus on what matters to me most.

Okay that's enough. How are y'all? Where are you finding community? What sources of hope, wisdom, creativity have you found most helpful in a time such as this?

#avery speaking #update

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galstelperion · 4 months ago

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hey, alma. i have been following you for a while and i like many of your takes, you always seem level-headed in this fandom, but i think you missed this time around and that post wasn't it. i'm not writing you this to make you feel bad! please, believe me, my intent is not to bring you down or anything of this sort. but the user you were talking about is getting witch hunted by celeb0rn fans, and she made that post because she has been harassed by haladriel-antis and celeb0rn fans for months and months, simply for her interpretations of the show. she never attacked anyone personally, she never rebloged anyone's takes to dismiss them. she just expressed her dislike of celeb0rn fans' own witch hunts and their own insistence that they get galadriel the right way. so it was quite disappointing to see haladriel shipper such as yourself add fuel to the fire that is eating up our fandom right now. turning on each other for celeb0rn is a bit of a waste, isn't it? and we know that the majority of celeb0rn stans aren't genuinely his stans, they are just antis.

i think the fandom is getting more and more toxic, not sure what it is about. im not writing you this so that you answer to this ask, i know you probably weren't coming from a bad place, but i just think this time your post had consequences that you did not intend to happen.

Hello anon, since you seem to be at least cordial, I will respond to this ask and it will be the last time I address this situation:

"we know that the majority of celeb0rn stans aren't genuinely his stans, they are just antis."

This is the root of the problem here. I am saying this in the kindest way possible. Yes, you are allowed to dislike a character. You are even allowed to bash said character in your own spaces. A line is crossed when you make untrue statements like this. The attitude that the majority of "Celeborn stans" who also happen to enjoy Haladriel are just antis is inaccurate and has made a lot of people incredibly uncomfortable. It has made me uncomfortable as someone who is friends with many multishippers who like and explore dynamics with all of these characters involved.

As I said in my original post, I do not ascribe to this all or nothing mentality to shipping or fandom in general. The idea that there is only one right way to like and consume this ship is hurtful and makes many people feel ostracized and unwelcome in this space. I say this as someone who doesn't even care for Celeborn as a character at all and have actively shit talked him around mutuals who agree with me. But I also say this as someone who has been friends with the most incredible Haladriels for 2+ years at this point, Haladriels who have written 100k+ word fanfictions, Haladriels who have dissected and analyzed lore back to front since the early 2000s, who are also interested in exploring Galadriel's dynamic with Celeborn! *gasp* Don't put me in shackles and drag me to the town square but someone who likes a character you don't isn't a crime! It doesn't make them any less of a Haladriel. It doesn't make them "antis in disguise"

This sort of mindset has been permeating the tag for many months now. I never felt inclined to really say anything about it until these broad generalizations were being made by people who I've personally never even seen before here. Like my good friend @nocaptainonthisship has said, "I've been in this fandom since its inception two years ago" isn't a dick measuring contest. It's saying I've been here. I've seen it.

I don't know a whole lot about this account that you're referring to in the ask. I don't even know anything about these people supposedly harassing them either. I don't condone that. I have refrained from @'ing them at all either here or in my original post so as to not to contribute to pile-ons if that is indeed happening. I did block them about a week ago after continuously seeing these actively hostile and confrontational takes about who can and can't be considered a real Haladriel based on their character preferences. Feel free to block me if that is the approach to fandom you want to have. It will certainly never be mine.

#also writing off all people who don't hate Celeborn with a visceral passion as “reddit dudebros”#and then expecting them not to defend themselves from a statement that is very clearly not true is just naive #normal every day multipshippers exist!#they will always exist!!#maybe try having conversations with fandom people outside of your circle idk #haladriel #rant #galadriel #sauron #celeborn

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lutiaslayton · 2 years ago

Text

Did someone ask for more scans? No? Too bad, have more scans.

Emmy's letter to Professor Layton, post-Curious Village. The fabled letter, which can only be accessed properly if you rip open your copy of the Japan-exclusive Azran Legacy Guidebook (more or less).

Years ago, there were photos and a fan-translation floating around on tumblr. Now, I give you the new and high quality version, as well as a full transcript. You're welcome :>

It's been literally eight years since your post, but since your tags say that you wanted to be warned if a better scan were to be made, well... Here you go @puzzilitis x) I'm also tagging @the-azran-legacies, but I'm pretty sure your blog is completely dead since this translation post seems to be its latest sign of activity, and that was ten years ago.

Seriously though, just in case you get to see this -- thank you both so much for what you did all these years ago. Without your posts, I might never even have heard that this letter existed in the first place! Or, well, I likely would have heard of it by now given the fact that I've been documenting every single Layton media I can find -- but I would have lived through an entire decade of ignorance by that point.

The translation below has been done exclusively with DeepL because my free time is limited, sorry for that ^^' If you want another one in order to compare, you have the one linked above, and I will likely make another one later (much later).

みんなのエピソード２１｜レミからの手紙

Everybody's Episode 21: A Letter from Emmy

親愛なるレイトン教授へ Dear Professor Layton,

あれから数か月になりますが、教授、お元気ですか？ It's been a few months since then. Professor, how are you?

一緒に仕事をしている仲間からレイトン教授が遺産相続騒動を解決したという話を耳にして思わず手紙を書いてしまいました。 When I heard from a colleague I work with that you had solved an inheritance dispute, I couldn't resist writing to you.

タージェントから世界を救ったあのレイトン教授が単なる遺産相続のナゾトキの依頼を引き受けるなんて。まさか…と思いましたが、ナゾには目がない教授ですし、きっと知的好奇心を刺激される不思議な出来事だったんでしょうね。 How could the very same Professor Layton who had saved the world from Targent, now accept a mere inheritance puzzle request? I could not believe it… But you always had a penchant for puzzles, so I am certain that it had to be a mysterious event which truly stimulated your intellectual curiosity.

ルークはしっかりと役目を果たせたでしょうか？ Has Luke fulfilled his role well?

実は…私はいま、ワールドタイムズでカメラマンをしています。教授の活躍を教えてくれた仕事仲間って、ボストニアス号で世界を旅したときに出会ったドリスさんなんですよ。 By the way... I am now a photographer for the World Times. The colleague who told me about your activities is Doris. We met her when we were travelling around the world on the Bostonius.

教授のもとを去ってから私がワールドタイムズで働き始めたきっかけは、教授との旅がとても楽しかったから。 I started working for the World Times after I quit my job as your assistant, since I enjoyed the journey with you so much.

世界各地でのいろんな人との出会い、見る者を虜にする美しい景色…。それを世界中の人々に伝えたい、いっしかそんな気持ちになって、自然とワールドタイムズ編集部に足を運んでいました。 Meeting all kinds of people in different parts of the world, finding beautiful and captivating landscapes… I wanted to tell people all over the world about these experiences, and this is how I naturally came to visit the World Times editorial office.

今の仕事は、本当に楽しいです！ I really enjoy my current job!

ムスロッホでリボの滝と鍾乳洞の取材をしていたら、長老のシメジイさんから気になるうわさ話を聞いたんです。 While I was reporting for the Ribo Waterfalls and the limestone caves of Musloch, I heard interesting rumours from the elder, Mr Simejii.

そんな話を聞いたら、調査をするしかありませんよね！ After hearing such a story, I simply could not resist investigating!

村人たちの情報を頼りに鍾乳洞の奥を突き進んでいったら…幻の｢神秘の密林｣を発見しました！ After going deeper into the limestone caves, by relying on the information the villagers gave me… The fabled "Mystical Jungle" has been discovered!

ワールドタイムズの大スクープとして一面に大きく取り上げられたので教授もご存知かもしれませんが、これは私の初スクープなんですよ。 You may have already known of it since it was featured as huge news on the front page of the World Times, but this was my first scoop.

記事には書きませんでしたが、密林の奥には古代遺跡が隠されていました。 We did not mention it in the article, but there were ancient ruins hidden deep in the jungle.

ここにもたくさんのナゾが隠されているはずなので、いつか教授にナゾを解いてもらいたいなぁ。 There must be a lot of puzzles hidden there. I hope you will solve them one day.

もしかして、アスラント文明とは別の考古学史上に残る大発見がある…かも？ Maybe there is another major discovery in the history of archaeology that is unrelated to the Azran civilisation… maybe?

そんなスクープを追いかけて世界中を飛び回る毎日ですが、いま追いかけているのは、スラム街に現れた｢ナゾのマスク男｣です。この話、知的好奇心をくすぐられませんか？ I spend my days travelling around the world, chasing this kind of scoop. What I am chasing now is a "Puzzling Masked Man" who has appeared in the slum quarters. Doesn't this story tickle your intellectual curiosity?

お金持ちから金品を盗み、スラム街の子供たちにお金を与える現代の義賊｢マスク男｣。 The Masked Man is a modern-day righteous bandit who steals money and goods from the rich and gives it to the children in the slums.

最初は、この｢マスク男の正体｣をスクープするためカメラ片手に追いかけていましたが、スラム街の子供たちを見ているうちに、１人の記者としてそこに暮らす人々の現状もじっくりと取材したい、と思うようになりました。 At first, I followed this "Masked Man," camera in hand, in order to get a scoop on his identity. But as I watched the children in the slums, I began to think that, as a reporter, I should rather take the time to cover the current situation of the people living there.

スラム街にはたくさんの孤児がいます。私たちを無垢な笑顔で迎えてくれる子、まったく目を合わせてくれない子など、いろんな表情を見せてくれます。 There are many orphans in the slums. We see many different faces, from those who greet us with innocent smiles to those who don't make eye contact at all.

そんな彼らの姿を見ているうちに、昔のことを、ふと思い出してしまいました。 As I watched them, I suddenly remembered something from the past.

私も子供のころ父を失い、孤児になってしまうところでした。しかし、それを救ってくれたのは、おじさまだったんです。 I lost my father as a child and almost became an orphan. But Uncle Leon saved me from that.

あの頃、父を失った私をおじさまはまるで娘のように育ててくれました。 Back then, I had lost my father, and Uncle Leon brought me up as if I were his daughter.

だから、あの場所でおじさまを裏切るわけにはいかなかった。優しかったおじさまを裏切れなかった…。教授に嘘をついていたことは、申し訳ないと思っています。 So this is why I couldn't betray him in that place. I couldn't betray my kind Uncle Leon... I truly am sorry that I lied to you, Professor.

でも、こういうことがあったからこそ、教授に出会えた。人の運命って不思議ですね。 Still, it was because of these things that I met you. The destiny of people is a curious thing, isnt' it?

あ…、今の私を伝えたいと思ってこの手紙を書いたのに、過去の話になっちゃいましたね。私の話は、また教授に会ったときにお話ししますね。 Ah... I wrote this letter in order to tell you how I am now, but all this is about the past. I will tell you my story when we meet again.

というわけで…今は楽しく仕事をしています！ So, all that to say... I really am enjoying my work now!

そうそう、長かった髪を思い切ってばっさり切りました！ Yes, I also cut off my long hair in a very drastic way!

これまでタージェントの一員として生きてきましたが、いま、ワールドタイムズでカメラマンとして働く普通の女性として歩み出すことができた、そんな気がしています。 I have lived my entire life as a member of Targent. But now, I feel that I have been able to step forward as an ordinary woman, who is now working as a photographer for the World Times.

きっといつか、あなたにまた会える、その日まで。 I am sure that one day, we will meet again. Until that day.

ＰＳ．取材中の写真をドリスさんに撮ってもらいました！あっ、��ろにマスク男が…！ P.S. Doris took photos during the interview! Ah, the Masked Man is in the background...!

Emmy Altava

Important translation note: Emmy calls Bronev "oji-sama," all in hiragana, which makes it unclear whether she is related to him by blood or not (おじ means "uncle," but can also just mean "man who is older than the speaker" (at least from what I know)).

The Eternal Diva novel introduces Emmy as "a beautiful woman of Asian lineage" (and yes, I know, Asia is huge with a lot of different lineages, and I don't know either which corner of Asia is being talked about here), so make of that info what you like. In order to leave it as ambiguous as I could, I replaced all instances of "oji-sama" with "Uncle Leon."

There might be a few other translation changes I made, but I think this was the most important one to take note of.

By the way, I actually scanned the whole guidebook, and I will share it when I can (though don't hold your breath, as you probably know I am currently juggling between way too many projects). The scans aren't ready to be shared yet because they were basically done with me not really caring whether the pages would be perfectly straight, upside down, etc, and as such they need some editing.

(I checked and the resolution of the scans is high enough to make it so that editing doesn't hurt the quality in the slightest. I swear that when the scans are finished editing, you won't even realise it and they'll look just as good as what you're seeing above with Emmy's letter).

The editing also includes linking the pages together for aesthetics purposes. Some pages have artworks that spread over both pages, so I'm doing my best to make it look seamless! Here, have an example for the first double page in the book that really does it:

As you can guess, editing each of the 128 pages in order to get this result is time-consuming, and translating that is going to be a doozy. But let's just appreciate how awesome it will be once it's done, eh? :D

Anyway, next up on the blog is going to be the Eternal Diva novel translation. I'm still working on getting some buffer done, but hopefully the first "chapter" will get out soon! I'd like to post on Saturdays. Let's cross our fingers for tomorrow. Or next week, if today's translation is enough to satiate you all for now!

#professor layton #emmy altava #azran legacy spoilers #azran legacy #professor layton and the azran legacy #professor layton transcript #azran legacy guidebook #emmy's letter #layton preservation

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ioniansunsets · 1 year ago

Note

Hello yuno! As vday is coming i have an idea or scenario if every heartsteel kayn were to receive handmade chocolates from his f-crush how would he react to it or feel or whichever way you would like owo!!! Feeling like the young kayn in high school moment ♡♡please take your time and its ok you dont have to rush it

✖ Valentine’s Confession Highschool Kayn ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.2k Words

✖ Tags: Mutual Pinning! Awkward young love.

✖ A/N: I wrote a mutual confession thing cause I thought it’ll be cute! I really put my whole IonianSunsussy into this please enjoy it. [Actually the idea of highschool sweethearts Kayn is also really cute. Like imagine the gap moe. He never talks about it and then during Paranoia’s debut he’s just like “ hey can I get an extra VIP ticket? My partner wants to watch.” and everyone is like ??????? and he’s like ??? “ Yeah I’ve been dating them since we were like 15. 6th year anniversary is this weekend.”]

✖ Wrote This Listening To: He just wants to be Somebody to You. I think the whole lone wolf that fell head over heels in love is cute for him hahahhaha

----

Kayn isn’t sure if he should be laughing or crying. Here he is, standing outside your club room at what, 5pm in the evening? Guitar strapped behind his back and a little gift in his hands. Ok, so he had liked you for a while now, so what, nothing wrong with love. Love was badass. So he decided to do something about those irritating feelings and bought you chocolates. So what! So, he decided it was just not hardcore enough, and went to melt and make his own fucking valentine’s chocolates for you. So What!

Maybe he baked cookies too huh? Is that so bad! Is it so bad that he got Akali to lend him some fancy stationery to write you some shitty fucking love letter! Its hardcore, its over the top! It’s how The Shieda Kayn should confess. Nothing subpar, none of that weak, half-assed work. Only the best. You only deserve everything and then some. You deserve the handmade chocolates. You deserve the expensive store bought ones he got too. You deserve that nicely wrapped box with the fancy hand cut crinkle paper in the pretty gift bag. You deserve the handmade cookies that he painstakingly made in your favorite flavor, with the cute icing of Rhaast and the matching handmade sprinkles (that Zed so kindly helped him with). You deserve the effort he took, the countless nights of planning to write down a very well written rap (confessional love poem) for you. You deserve the scented paper (his cologne) and the cool stickers on the envelope (its holographic hearts).

You deserve someone better than him.

He winces as he accidentally bit his lip too hard. Suddenly brought back to the reality of how long he has spent standing by this door. Another click of his tongue, he continues irritatingly tapping his foot while he reconsiders all he’s about to do. Was it creepy? Waiting for you after club activities? What? People should call it romantic right? It…it Was romantic…right? Waiting an extra hour or two after his own extra classes for Your own club activities to finish? I mean, he worked hard growing the balls to ask you to wait for him after school. You said yes earlier too! This is not creepy, this is just him living up to promises he made with you. This is. Normal. Yeah. Totally normal. Romance will die when he lets it. Kayn swallows hard, hand gripping tighter to the ribbon handles of the beautiful gift bag he spent his allowance on. The contents on the bag feeling heavier and heavier by the minute.

Knocking the door with his other hand, Kayn slowly peers into the club room. Slowly opening the door, he enters silently. The sickly blinding white fluorescent room lights mixing with the oranges of the late afternoon sun streaming in from the open windows. Kayn looks around, catching sight of you standing by the closet in the corner of the room packing up whatever it was that you did after school.

" Hey. I’m here like I said." " Kayn!"

He watches as you jump, fumbling as you try to hide whatever it is that was in the closet. Raising an eyebrow, he stands there, giving you an awkward smile as his eyes narrow to discern just what it is you were hiding from him.

“ Oh? Oh~ What is that huh?”

Kayn teases you, hiding his own gift behind his back as he walks over, trying to peer in and see what you’re so desperately hiding from him. As you look back at him with feigned irritation on your face, some quick maneuvers later you managed to hide whatever it is on the shelf behind your back.

“ You first. What’s that huh?”

As you ask him the question, a slow red blush creeps up his cheeks. Slowly you lean over to him, trying to see what is it that he’s holding behind His back. It can’t be right. No way life would treat someone like him this well. No way, no way. You were too close way too close. He swallows hard, leaning back to try and hide what he can behind his guitar case while also leaning away from you. So close to him that he could feel not only your presence in his personal space but the delectable warmth radiating off your skin. As your eyes meet his with that mischievous glint, he freezes. Stunned by both your beauty and the sudden realization that he should get this done and over with before he backs out. A shakily smug smile creeps onto his face as he tries his best to tamp down his anxiety with his Kayn branded cockiness. Was this something everyone went through? Were first loves and confessions this bad for everybody? God, he could feel his palms sweating again. Kayn coughs lightly to clear his throat before proudly thrusting the fancy bag in your face.

“ I…worked really hard on a little something for you. I hope you like it.”

Barely audible, Kayn whispers as he looks away shy. Contrary to his earlier actions, he gently lowers his hands and places the gift into your embrace. His eyes dart around the room, not able to meet your gaze, Kayn seemingly shrinks away from you with the realization of his past few days worth of effort all hitting him at once. The Valentine’s day gift was literally out of his hands now. A breathy laugh escapes him before he finally finds the meager courage to look at you again. And of course, he was instantly awestruck. How could he not be with you. Looking back at him with that tender look, the way your own lips slowly curl into a smile, the sparkle in your eyes as you look from him to the gift in your hands back at him.

“ Kayn…”

” No. Don’t say anything, just…go read the thing when you’re home alone. I don’t wanna hear it! I’m going!”

As he turns to leave, you quickly grab his arm, pulling him back with a quick jerk. Eyes closed, you press your lips against his. Kayn’s own eyes go wide as he looks, unblinking, back at you in shock. He was now suddenly very, very aware of what it felt like when people talked about time feeling like it's stopping.

“ And this is for you.”

You quickly return a similarly lovingly wrapped box into his hands. Kayn frozen in place, his heart working in overdrive, thumping so loudly he was sure he would get a heart attack right here right now. His face such a bright red that the blush reaches up to his ears and also spread down his chest. You could see it peaking through his unbuttoned collar when your gaze trailed down. Before his brain could even begin to regain function you quickly wave to him, scrambling to pick up your bag you run off. Leaving Kayn flustered and alone in the empty classroom as the sun begins to set. You too had to leave his presence before the embarrassment of what went down caught up to you too.

There would be a lot for you guys to talk about tomorrow at school.

Link to fanart for this!

#Shieda Kayn #Heartsteel!Kayn #Kayn x Reader #Kayn League #Kayn LoL #KaynLeague #SCENARIO #Van1shiro #HAPPY VALENTINES #I spent like a few hours on this LMFAO #feelings entirely drawn from my own romantic experiences #I LOVE ROMANCE #god this is so good i really outdid myself with this #im shy all aoishdaoihdoais reading my own work #I LOVE YOU SHIEDA KAYN!!!!!!!!!

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abby118 · 3 months ago

Note

I followed you when I came back to the loki fandom in 2021 and then was promptly heartbroken by the show, utterly disappointed and all that. And then i came here to find if anyone else was similarly disillusioned with the show and I did find a lot of us. That's when I found you too. But I also found a lot of these blogs very loudly bashing other fans centred around the new show, and I get where it comes from because I have seen the other side too. But I didn't really vibe with all that. I deny the existence of that show but the active hating is not really my scene. You were and still are one of the chill blogs who also gets why we don't like the show but you aren't overt about attacking the other side of this fandom.

Hmm interesting. I see what you mean but while I do not condone bullying of any sort, I am very critical of the series fans, just like the series critical blogs.

As I've mentioned in an ask earlier, I wanted a blog similar to what I remembered from the Tumblr before Ragnarok. This is just a by product of that - not much critique. We have series critical blogs who have written their posts and they've done so well; I simply prioritise preserving the good that we had (as well as my sanity) instead of adding to that pile (not because I wouldn't see it as important, but because I've only got so much energy and I don't have any interest in torturing myself with that show). Someone had to do it, otherwise we'd have empty tags.

I do not, and won't ever understand how someone who claims to have watched and enjoyed the movies could ever, not just accept, but like the series so I don't understand the other side. The fans are everything wrong with the fandom nowadays and I stand by that. If someone's able to even remotely enjoy that series, I genuinely don't believe they paid attention to the original movies, or understood them. Why would you simultaneously claim to be a fan of something to the point of joining the fanbase for it and support its disrespectful destruction? (Because that wasn't just a case of unfortunate writing, it was a complete out of character, out of logic, reboot that changed everything that had any dept to it including things like the universe's history and the character's personalities, speech, demeanour, the genre, you name it.)

That's not even touching on the fact how the fans reflect the series and the series reflects its fanbase. I've been a part of this fandom since 2011, as well as other fandoms, of course, and never in all of my years on this site have I seen people (full grown adults, mind you) be so childish and hostile towards not just the original fans but everyone, really. It's not normal to be getting death threats or suicide bait or asks in which they pretend to be the people you know or be sending asks (to themselves) in which they pretend to be you to cause drama. Saying this again - who would introduce themselves on anon? Just think about it.

I will not "attack" anyone for being a fan of the series, neither will I write critique about them (not unless they directly choose to interact with me) but I am very critical of them and I do judge them.

#abby talks #just to clear some things up #Loki #2011-2013 Loki supremacy #Thor #The Avengers #Thor The Dark World #anti ragnarok #anti loki series #anti loki show

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vividiana · 5 days ago

Text

chapter 3

pairing: Astarion x f!Durge · word count: 7k

rating: M for now, will change to E (18+)

tags: modern AU, witness protection, strangers to friends to lovers (see AO3 for a more exhaustive list)

summary: It’s been over a year since Eve had to uproot her life and assume a new identity—anything to distance herself from the past she wishes she could forget. When an erratic, if oddly charming, newcomer stumbles into her place of work, she recognizes something familiar within him and the two can’t seem to stay away from each other. But Eve is not the only one running from her past.

An alternative, modern take on the Dark Urge x Astarion romance, filled with friendship, secrets, healing, and ABBA.

a/n: this chapter was supposed to be like 5k tops OOPS. anyways, I can finally stop referring to Astarion as the "white-haired man" or "Note Guy!" 🥳 also, we get some ABBA, as promised! hope you enjoy 🧡

chapter-specific cw: heavy drinking, vomiting, references to past abuse/controlling behavior

previous chapter · read on AO3 · dividers

It’s been over a month since her first appointment with Halsin and Eve somehow managed to drag herself back to that office every Monday. At least it made Wyll happy. Following his advice, she did tell Halsin about her reaction to his assessment, and he assured her that they didn’t have to return to the subject before she was ready. Instead, they spent the last few sessions exploring Eve’s beliefs about herself and developing some more practical tools to deal with her anxiety (which she was reluctantly grateful for, as much as she’d hate to admit it).

Outside of work, she was more busy than ever. With the school year being over, Lae’zel had a lot more time on her hands and was always coming up with Fun Summer Activities for them to do. This mostly boiled down to various forms of physical exertion, which Eve bravely endured. The things we do for love.

After coming back from yet another hike, Eve collapses on the couch, bitching and moaning like she just crossed the entire country on foot. Lae’zel, however, seems to have endless reserves of energy, because she immediately heads to the kitchen to make them both protein shakes. She places one of them on the coffee table next to Eve, which she acknowledges with a light groan of gratitude.

“Don’t be dramatic. It was only seven miles,” Lae’zel says before she takes a sip of her shake.

“Yeah, it was also eighty-five degrees.”

“It would have been cooler if you woke up at six like I suggested.”

Eve doesn’t grace that with a response. She just watches as Lae downs her drink and starts to pace restlessly around the apartment.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m bored,” Lae says absentmindedly. Then, she stops in her tracks and looks at Eve with an odd glint in her eyes. “We should throw a party,” she says, before resuming her pacing.

This finally prompts Eve to sit up, against the collective protest from her muscles. She observes Lae’zel warily and says:

“I’m sorry, I think the heat is getting to me. I could swear I just heard you say you want to throw a party.”

“Correct.”

“Are you on drugs?”

“It might be nice to see everyone before I leave for Córdoba.”

“Who is everyone?”

“You know, friends.” Lae gestures vaguely.

“I’m gonna need names,” Eve says. “And for the love of God, please sit down, you’re freaking me out.”

Lae’zel finally comes to a halt and sits on the armchair. She looks almost embarrassed, which is worrying in its own way.

“Who are these friends you’re talking about?”

“Wyll…?” Lae offers weakly.

“Wyll is not your friend, you met him one time ages ago when he came in here for the assessment. He’s not even my friend, it’s literally his job to spend time with me. So who else?”

“People from work.”

“What, like the biology teacher who has a crush on you? What was his name again?”

“Rath. And he doesn’t have a crush on me.”

“Sure.”

“Also Dammon.”

“Okay, that I can understand, you two actually hang out sometimes. Who else?”

“Zevlor.”

“Who the fuck is Zevlor? I have never heard that name from your mouth.”

“He’s my accountability partner at the gym.”

“Accountability partner…” Eve sighs, massaging her temples. “Lae, be for fucking real: is this about Jen?”

“You’re right, we could also invite Jen,” Lae’zel says with feigned excitement as if this has never occurred to her before. “That’s a great idea. You’re so smart.”

“And you’re a terrible liar.”

“Fine,” Lae’zel sighs, exasperated. “Of course this is about her, who else?”

“I don’t get it, you already see each other a couple times a week. And you text, like, all the time.”

“Yes, but…” Lae’zel drops her gaze in a way that Eve would characterize as bashful, if she didn’t know any better. “Texting is nice, but when I see her, we don’t really talk, we’re busy with other things. And I would just like to… get to know her better.”

A foreign sort of warmth spreads through Eve’s chest as she listens to her friend describe what can only be considered a crush. Like a champ, she fights down the urge to yell I knew it!

“I see,” Eve starts gently, as if this version of Lae’zel were a precious fawn who could be easily startled by any sudden movement or snapping twig. “Have you considered asking her on a date?”

“I don’t do dates, Eve,” Lae’zel huffs with a determination that is likely meant to convince herself more than anything. “But if we throw a party, she will be just one of many guests, so it won’t be as obvious that I…” She trails off and shakes her head. “It has to happen before I go home. I’ll be gone for a month and I’m worried that if sex is all we have, then she’ll just find someone else to replace me. And that will be the end of it.”

“We can’t have that,” Eve says with a soft smile. “A party it is, then.”

“A party it is.” Lae’zel smiles back, her confidence returning. “I’ll need your help. As you pointed out, I don’t actually know that many people.”

“Me neither, but I’ll figure something out, don’t worry.”

“You should invite Note Guy.”

“I– Uh– Well, I guess if I find no other alternatives, then I might. For you. Just to make sure we have enough guests to make this party believable.”

“Of course.” Lae’zel nods sagely. “No other reason.”

As Eve heads to work on Tuesday, it’s with an unusual sort of determination. She’s on a mission.

When it comes to party guests, Lakrissa is the obvious choice. Although they have never spent time together outside of work, Eve genuinely likes her, and they share this unique sense of camaraderie, being the only constants in the ever-changing array of waitstaff. A lot of people would join the team at the Blushing Mermaid only to quit after a couple months, or even weeks, but the two of them have held their post ever since Eve got the job a year and a half ago. She is not sure if it’s a testament to their determination or desperation—but either way, she finds Lakrissa’s presence grounding amidst all the chaos.

Plus, Lakrissa seems to have a bustling social life, always sharing stories about her nights out, so Eve decides to extend the invitation to some of her friends.

“Amazing!” she gasps when Eve chats her up in the kitchen. She pulls out her phone and starts typing rapidly. “I’ll text Kaldani and Rikka. Oh, and Danis too! He’ll probably bring his fiancé, is that alright?”

“That’s perfect.”

On a whim, Eve also invites one of the line cooks, Minsc. He is a truly puzzling yet charming man with a thick Slavic accent—Eve is not sure what kind of Slavic exactly, because Minsc never talks about himself. He does, however, talk at length about his hamster Boo, to whoever will listen. He is a bit odd, to be sure, but he always seems to be in a good mood and equipped with a bottomless arsenal of anecdotes, making him the perfect guest.

After securing at least six new people for their party, Eve is pulled back into the whirlwind of clients and orders. Like clockwork, at 4 p.m. she finds herself carrying a plate of chicken tenders to the man at booth four.

“Hello Sir, what’s new?” she asks when she brings him the food.

“Thy wheel of fate turns ever to the light,” he says solemnly.

“Oh, that’s beautiful. Is it from a poem?”

“No.”

Eve waits for him to elaborate, but instead he picks up the utensils and starts cutting the chicken into little pieces.

“Alright.” She shrugs. “Enjoy your meal.”

“I will.”

Eve turns around and smiles when she sees that Note Guy has just arrived.

She was worried when he didn’t show up for a couple days after The Day When Everything That Could Have Gone Wrong, Went Wrong. It was a sudden change of routine that Eve felt personally to blame for, even if she realized how irrational and self-centered that was.

But then, one Friday, he came back, and it was as if that night had never happened. He was just as friendly as before, and she was once again in the right headspace to return his energy.

The days when he would come in felt lighter somehow. He was easy to talk to, even if their conversations were entirely surface-level. He quickly became her second-favorite regular—after all, the enigmatic Chicken Tenders Man would always have a special place in her heart. The two of them gave her something to look forward to during her otherwise arduous shifts.

It’s no different this time, the two of them engaging in the now familiar banter as she takes his order.

Shortly after, Eve is heading over with his food, when Lakrissa stops her just a couple feet away from his table to ask if she should bring anything to the party. They briefly discuss the logistics before returning to work, Note Guy donning a curious smile when she finally walks up to him.

“Hosting a party?” he asks.

“Yes. Well– It’s more of an elaborate excuse for my roommate to hang out with her crush, who she insists is not actually her crush.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, she wants to spend more time with her, but she convinced herself that she doesn’t do romance, so she can’t just ask her out. It has to be a whole thing.”

“Naturally,” he says, amused. “And you’re organizing it?”

“Well, we both are, but I guess I was tasked with recruiting more guests, since we rarely do these types of things, it will be sort of like a patchwork situation…”

Eve trails off once she realizes she’s rambling.

Why are you telling him all these details?

“That sounds fun.”

Eve can’t tell if he genuinely thinks that, or if he’s just trying to be polite. There is a moment of silence, as they regard one another, her thoughts racing.

Ask him.

Isn’t that weird though? We barely know each other.

If he thinks it’s weird, he can say no. Just ask him, goddammit.

“Anyways, enjoy your meal,” she blurts out before turning on her heel and walking away, cursing herself.

Good job.

When she eventually comes back to check up on him, she is still a bit embarrassed by her impressive inability to play it cool.

“Everything alright over here?”

“It’s perfect,” he says, as if their BLT were the most delicious meal known to man. Doubtful, but she appreciates the enthusiasm.

“Great, love to hear it. Can I get you anything else?”

“No, just the check, please, when you have a moment.”

Eve nods, ready to turn away, but then something inside her shifts.

Fuck it.

“So um– About the party. I was just thinking that if you’re not doing anything Friday night, you could drop by if you wanted. It’s nothing crazy, just like ten or twelve people at our apartment. Could be a good way to meet some people since you’re new around here. No pressure, of course, I know this might be kinda weird cause we don’t really–”

“I’d love that,” he says with a genuineness that both reassures her and somehow makes her more nervous.

“Oh! Perfect. We’d love to have you. Um– It starts at seven, this Friday, like I said, and uh– Here, I’ll write down the address for you,” she says, fishing out her pen and notepad.

“You could also text it to me.”

She freezes for a moment and then can’t help but laugh as she puts the notepad away. The tension in her body eases along with the laughter and she feels more comfortable now in this familiar back-and-forth.

“Damn, that was smooth,” she admits, grabbing her phone instead.

“Yeah, I’m pretty proud of that one,” he says with a delightful grin.

Eve creates a new contact and hands the phone to him. When he returns it, she sees he saved his number as Astarion 🔥. She reads the name out loud, enjoying how it rolls off her tongue.

“I’ve never met an Astarion before, it’s a pretty name. But why would you put fire next to it?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” he asks, flashing her his most charming smile.

Eve rolls her eyes and replaces the 🔥 with 🤓.

“I think this is more fitting,” she says, showing him the screen.

Astarion’s grin falters, eyes widening in genuine shock.

“I’ve never been more insulted in my life.”

“Why?” She checks the screen, then places it next to his face as her eyes move back and forth between the two. “It’s pretty accurate. You have the same glasses.”

“Hardly. And my teeth look nothing like that.”

Eve chuckles as she pockets her phone.

“What’s so funny?” he asks with a deep frown.

“It’s just a silly thing to get so defensive about.”

“I’m not defensive,” he scoffs. “It’s just–”

“I’ll be back with your check,” she cuts him off with a sweet smile, delighted by the annoyed huff he lets out as she starts walking away.

Eve spends the next three days dreading the consequences of her actions.

Playful banter with a customer is one thing, but it’s something else entirely to have him in her home, on equal footing, with no predetermined structure and rehearsed pleasantries to fall back on. Eve is not sure how she feels about it, other than being utterly ridden with anxiety, though that’s nothing new.

On the upside, the apartment has never looked more pristine—a joint effort born out of the desire to make a good impression on their respective Special Guests, which neither of the women acknowledge out loud.

Suddenly, sooner than Eve would like, it’s the end of her Friday shift and she has two hours to pick up the final supplies for the party, make herself look presentable, and not smell like fries.

When she gets home, Lae’zel is finishing up her extensive hair routine. She’s wearing a boxy cropped tee and black bike shorts—nothing flashy, though Eve supposes the outfit is still more party-appropriate than Lae’s usual tracksuit.

Lae’zel takes the grocery bags off her hands and begins to unpack them, freezing when she pulls out an excessively large bottle of diet cherry Coke, which Eve put into her cart last-minute.

“What did you buy this for? This is a Pepsi household.”

“You never know, our guests might prefer Coke,” Eve says evasively before darting into the bathroom.

She hops into the shower and washes her freshly-dyed hair. Lae helped her with it last night after they both decided that her roots had gotten out of control and the intended mauve pink had washed out into an odd, pale shade of orange.

When she makes it back to her room, she spends the next fifteen minutes trapped in a purgatory of indecision, before eventually settling for a sleeveless burgundy mock neck top and a pair of distressed baggy jeans. She puts on some green gel eyeliner and then wipes it off disgruntled, only to apply it again minutes later. After fiddling with her hair for way too long, she eventually puts the upper half of it into a bun, the rest brushing softly against her shoulders.

She almost jumps when the buzzer rings at 7 p.m. sharp.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Astarion. From the restaurant.”

“Thank you for specifying,” she chuckles as she buzzes him in. “Come on up.”

Her chest is tight with nerves as she lingers in the hallway. Finally, there is a light knock and something odd happens in Eve’s brain the moment she opens the door and sees him. For a second, all she can do is stare.

Astarion is wearing a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up and the top buttons undone, tucked into a pair of white wide-leg pants. It seems he opted for contacts today, because the familiar round glasses are gone, replaced by a pair of Lennon shades pushed up atop his orchestrated disarray of white curls.

“Hi,” he says with an awkward handwave, snapping her out of her stupor.

She notices then the silver rings adorning his fingers, his well-groomed nails painted black. Eve suddenly feels very self-conscious about her torn jeans and bitten nails.

Before she gets a chance to respond, she hears Lae’zel’s voice from behind her:

“You’re early, Note Guy.”

Astarion checks his watch, brows furrowed.

“I thought you said seven.”

“No one ever shows up on time to parties,” Lae’zel says, “which means you’re early.”

“I see.” And then he cocks his head curiously when he says: “Wait, did you call me Note G–”

“Astarion, this is my roommate, Lae’zel,” Eve rushes in. “Lae’zel, this is Astarion.” She places emphasis on his actual name as she glares at her friend.

“I know,” Lae says and takes Astarion’s outstretched hand, gripping it harder than necessary. “Eve has told me a lot about you.”

“Has she now?” he asks, clearly amused.

“Yes, I heard you’re rude to waitstaff.”

There is a moment of tense silence during which Eve wishes for the ground to come up and swallow her whole. But then Astarion pulls a bottle out of his tote bag and presents it to them with a weak smile.

“I brought gin.”

“Great, come in, please.” Eve takes the bottle and beckons him inside. “Lae, could you check on the appetizers?”

“I don’t have to, they’re done.”

“Great, but could you please check? Just to make sure?”

Lae’zel rolls her eyes and heads to the kitchen, muttering something in Spanish under her breath.

Eve gives Astarion a very brief tour of the premises: shoes off (yes, ma’am), here’s the bathroom (got it), there’s the balcony if you want to smoke (I quit). Once that’s out of the way, she finds herself utterly at a loss for how to proceed. Perhaps Astarion senses that, because he looks around the empty apartment and offers:

“Can I help you with anything?”

“I think we’ve mostly got it covered–”

“You can be in charge of the music,” Lae’zel says, rejoining them with trays of food. She turns the TV on and navigates to device pairing. “But keep in mind that your Bluetooth privileges will be revoked if you fail,” she warns Astarion as she hands him the remote.

“I won’t let you down,” he says solemnly with an exaggerated salute. He turns to Eve with wide eyes, a soft smile tugging at his lips as if to say she’s fun! When he’s done setting up, he asks: “Any requests?”

They both shake their heads.

“Okay, well, this is a lot of pressure.” He laughs nervously. “Guess I’ll just queue things up as I go. Ummm– Maybe let’s start with something calmer and go from there… This should work.”

Sounds that Eve can only describe as funky fill their living room. She doesn’t recognize the title of the song nor the name of the artist when they show up on the TV.

“I like it,” she says with a nod after a couple moments.

Astarion seems visibly relieved.

“Lae’zel, what’s the verdict?” he asks.

“It will do for now.”

“That’s the spirit!” he says with a wide grin. “So what sort of music do you usually listen to?”

“I like eighties rock,” Lae’zel says.

“That makes sense, somehow. And you?” he asks, turning to Eve.

“I don’t really listen to music.”

“What do you mean?” Astarion asks, sounding genuinely baffled.

“I don’t know,” she says, suddenly feeling embarrassed, like she failed some secret social test. “I guess I’ll just listen to whatever is playing, but I don’t really seek it out on my own. What about you?”

Apparently, Astarion listens to everything, which doesn’t exactly overlap with her nothing, but they somehow manage to keep the conversation going for a bit until Lakrissa mercifully shows up with her four friends.

They all seem lovely and completely ignore Eve’s earlier insistence that they didn’t have to bring anything. Danis’ fiancé (Becky, was it? Eve already forgot half their names) hands her a baking dish of brownies, which Eve eyes cautiously.

“Are these…?”

“No, nothing funny in there!” the woman rushes to explain. “Well, except for a whole lot of chocolate and some raspberries. I just love baking! Danis and I are saving up to open a cat café.”

Shortly after, they’re joined by Dammon and Rath, followed by Minsc, who shows up with sunflowers.

“Eve, my friend, these are for you!” he bellows excitedly.

“Aw, you didn’t have to,” she says as she takes the ridiculously large bouquet off his hands.

“Oh, but I did have to! You are much like a sunflower, you see. Always brightening up Minsc’s day at work. It’s the least Minsc could do.”

Eve is not sure how exactly she brightens up his day, since they rarely interact and she is always in a sour mood at work. But the sincerity in Minsc’s tone leaves no space for disagreement.

“Do you like it?” he asks. “Boo helped pick the perfect bouquet.”

“I love it, thank you so much! And how did he help you, exactly?”

“Minsc hovered his hand above the flower display until Boo squeaked. It was much like a claw machine, where Minsc’s hand was the claw, and Boo was the child with a quarter.”

“You make a fantastic team then,” is all Eve can think to say to that as she nods thoughtfully and invites him inside.

The party slowly settles into a comfortable rhythm as people chat, eat, and drink, all to the sounds of Astarion’s improvised playlist. Eve is thoroughly relieved that despite not knowing one another, their guests manage to mingle and enjoy each other’s company.

At one point, Lae’zel pulls her aside to say:

“Eve, there is a rodent in our home.”

She points to Minsc and sure enough, there is Boo, perched contentedly on the man’s muscular shoulder, looking comically tiny in comparison.

“Oh that’s just Boo,” Eve explains with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Don’t worry, I heard he’s very well-trained. He won a bunch of gold medals at the Hamster Olympics.”

“That’s not a thing that exists.”

“Maybe not. But Minsc’s anecdotes are always so fun and detailed, I just don’t have the heart to fact-check him.”

She leaves Lae’zel confused and heads to the kitchen to fish out her designated drink for the night from the back of the fridge. It’s an overpriced craft IPA from a local brewery, because if she’s only going to have one, she might as well splurge. A single drink is all she ever allows herself, painfully aware that she cannot afford to let her guard down, lest she starts openly spilling information about her life that only a select few are privy to.

Jen shows up fashionably late, a fact that Lae’zel seems both relieved and distressed by. And yet, it is not too long before the two of them are off in a corner together, laughing and completely ignoring the commotion around them.

Eve, on the other hand, finds herself pulled into a discussion about movies, which shortly leads to her and Astarion both freaking out about the third installment of the Knives Out series, the title of which was just announced a couple weeks ago.

A loud chime erupts from Lakrissa’s phone and she pulls it out of her pocket.

“It’s BeReal time!” she announces, angling her phone to take a selfie with the group.

But before she can take the picture, Eve grabs the nearest chip bowl and excuses herself, rushing to the kitchen. She runs into Jen and Lae, the latter mixing their drinks, the former studying the space curiously.

“What’s this about?” Jen asks, pointing to a white board on their fridge.

Aside from more mundane notes like what kitchen staples they’re running low on, the board houses a list, sectioned off in the corner, that reads:

ghost

poet

ghost poet

philosophy professor (tenured)

retired living statue

alien studying our culture

“It’s about Eve’s old man,” Lae’zel says, looking over her shoulder.

“He is not my old man,” Eve clarifies and then regales Jen with the tales of her favorite regular, making sure to quote some of his signature lines that he always refuses to elaborate on.

“We have a running list of theories about who he might be,” Lae’zel adds.

Jen hums curiously, then grabs a marker and adds another item to the bottom of the list: god of death(?)

“What do you mean?” Eve asks.

“I don’t know, it’s just a feeling.” Jen shrugs.

“You say the weirdest things sometimes,” Lae’zel says, shaking her head, as she hands her the drink.

“And you love it.” Jen takes the cup and turns on her heel to go join a conversation between Lakrissa’s friends.

Lae just stands there for a moment, staring blankly ahead.

“Well done,” Eve says, patting her on the shoulder.

When she returns to the living room, she catches Astarion’s gaze and he comes up to her, phone in one hand, drink in the other.

“There you are! I was thinking I could put on some Chappell Roan to liven up the crowd. What do you think, Eve?” he asks before taking a very generous sip of his gin and tonic.

“Who is Chappell Roan?”

Astarion drops his phone, gasping dramatically as his free hand clutches at his chest.

“You heathen! You did not just ask me that.”

Eve can’t help but laugh at his theatrics.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“You’ve definitely heard some of her songs,” Rath chimes in. “Do you know Pink Pony Club?”

“Oh, that one! I’m sorry, I have nothing against her, but if I have to listen to that song one more time, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“Excuse you, it’s a great song,” Astarion mutters as he picks his phone off the ground and checks for damage.

“It might be, but it gets so overplayed on the radio, and I have to listen to it at work, which tends to ruin a lot of songs for me.”

“Hmmm… Okay, that’s fair,” he decides, graciously. “So I’m assuming Good Luck, Babe! is off the table, too. Let’s see…” He scrolls on his phone until he’s satisfied. “Oh! This will do. Eve, your task for this weekend is to listen to this album and let me know what you think. Where is your phone?”

She opens Spotify and hands the phone to him.

“Why do you have Spotify Premium if you don’t listen to music?”

“Podcasts,” she explains. “And ambient noise.”

“You’re fascinating,” he says, clicking something. “Here, I saved it for you.”

The song that’s currently playing is mellowing out and Astarion hands the phone back to her before looking around the room.

“Jen!” he exclaims, pointing at the woman in question with a surprising level of familiarity.

She turns in their direction.

“Huh?”

“You look like you might know the lyrics. I’m counting on you to sing along.”

“What is that supposed to–”

But then the song starts playing and Jen’s eyes widen with excitement as she laughs.

She way a playboy, Brigitte Bardot–

“That’s a weird way to out me, but you’re not wrong!”

She showed me things I didn’t know–

Astarion leans in towards Eve, brushing lightly against her side.

“I think she outed herself when she was kissing Lae’zel on the couch,” he whispers into her ear. “But what do I know?”

She did it right there, out on the deck–

Astarion pulls away to sing the next line in unison with Jen:

“Put her canine teeth in the side of my neck!”

Apparently everyone but Eve is quite fond of Chappell Roan, because more and more people start getting up and singing along, though the only person who manages to hit all the notes is Jen. During the chorus, she gets up onto the coffee table and dances, looking absolutely ethereal. Eve finds herself entranced as she watches her sway and sing, but it is Lae’zel who looks like the whole world just blurred around her and only Jen remains in focus.

The people demand more dance songs and the DJ is happy to deliver. Eve dims the lights and then leans against the wall, sipping her beer and watching with amusement as the guests lose their minds over a song that apparently holds no small amount of nostalgia.

Coming out of my cage and I’ve been doing just fine–

Astarion catches her gaze and pushes past Dammon and Lae’zel to get to her.

Just as she puts the bottle up to her lips for another sip, he grabs it and deposits it on a low table beside her.

“Excuse you–” she protests, however weakly.

“May I have this dance?” he asks, putting his hand out as he bows with an exaggerated flourish.

“You’re ridiculous.” She laughs, hoping the blush in her cheeks is not as obvious in the low light. “Sorry to disappoint yet again, but I can’t dance. Comes with being a heathen.”

He smiles, rising back to his full height, looking at her curiously like she is a puzzle he hopes to solve one day.

“You don’t need to know how to dance to enjoy it,” he assures her. “You can just jump around and sing along, and it’s great.”

“But I don’t know the lyrics!” she yells over the people singing what she assumes to be the chorus.

“They’re super repetitive, you’ll catch on!”

And so, with no arguments left, Eve takes Astarion’s hand and lets him pull her into the flurry of laughing, dancing bodies, yelling in unison:

“STARTED OUT WITH A KISS, HOW DID IT END UP LIKE THIS?”

“IT WAS ONLY A KISS,” Astarion shouts and then points at Eve in a your turn gesture.

“IT WAS ONLY A KISS!” they sing together.

Once the song ends, some people go to sit down, but as soon as the next one starts, they change their mind, because of course you can’t not dance to that. And so it goes on, Astarion queueing things up on the spot, balancing his musical responsibilities with making sure his glass is never empty. He intersperses throwback hits with more recent songs, making it impossible to catch a breath.

It’s almost midnight by the time their collective energy fizzles out and then they’re back to sitting around, chatting, and drinking, utterly spent.

Eve is listening, captivated, to another of Minsc’s anecdotes of doubtful veracity, when she gets distracted by Astarion’s agitated voice. He is sitting on the floor, engrossed in some heated discussion with Danis, and he has been getting increasingly louder and more blunt with each passing minute.

“What do you mean it comes with the job?! Harassment? Oh for fuck’s sake, you can’t be serious!”

She doesn’t hear what Danis is trying to tell him, but Astarion shortly cuts him off:

“Just because they’re famous doesn’t mean anyone is entitled to their time and attention 24/7!”

Eve is not sure what they’re talking about exactly, but she can’t shake the impression that there is something odd under the layer of irritation, like this matter is important to him on more than just the ideological level.

“Did someone knock?” Lakrissa asks, prompting Eve to look away from Astarion.

“Huh?”

But then there is a louder pounding at the door that cuts through the music, followed by the unmistakable voice of their upstairs neighbor:

“OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR.”

“Hi, Aradin,” Eve says sweetly when she grants him his wish. “Would you like to join us?”

“What I would like is to go to sleep. It’s one in the fucking morning, Eve, don’t make me call the cops.”

“Alright alright. We’ll be quiet.”

She closes the door unceremoniously in his face, then asks Astarion to turn down the music. He mumbles something incomprehensive, searching for his phone, but eventually complies.

Most guests decide to take this as their cue to leave, thanking Eve and Lae profusely for the invitation. Eve hugs people goodbye, but Lae just waves her hand from the couch, too invested in the hushed conversation she’s having with Jen.

Danis gets up from the floor, stumbling a little, and Astarion tries to follow. He props himself on a chair but loses his balance, the chair flipping over and clattering to the floor. With the lights on, the music quiet, and the crowd dispersed, his unfortunate state quickly becomes apparent.

“Are you okay?” Eve asks as she rushes to pull him up from the floor.

He manages to stand up, swaying a little, his hand grabbing her shoulder for balance.

“Sorry ‘bout that…” he slurs as he takes his hand away.

“You can go lay down in my room if you’re not feeling well,” she offers.

He barks out a laugh.

“How forward of you.”

“Yup, okay, I think it’s time to go home.”

With Minsc’s help, she gathers Astarion’s things and manages to lead him outside and to her car.

“Do you wish for Minsc to come with you?” the man asks after he deposits Astarion onto her passenger seat and buckles him in.

“I’ll be fine, but thank you. And thank you again for the beautiful flowers, they made my day.”

“Mission accomplished, then,” Minsc says with a wide grin.

They exchange their goodbyes and Eve gets inside, the small space already reeking of alcohol. Astarion is leaning against the window with his eyes closed.

“What’s your address?” she asks as she starts the car and plugs her phone in.

“124– Wait. 120–” He groans. “Something like that.”

“Cool. Do you have your license on you?”

He mumbles something incomprehensible.

“Astarion, please don’t make me go through your pockets.”

He groans again before fishing out his wallet from the tote bag and handing it to her.

Eve searches for his license, finding instead a non-driver ID. She doesn’t particularly want to pry, but it only takes one glance to learn quite a lot about him. Astarion Ancunín, the ID informs her. He somehow managed to look good in the photo, which Eve supposes shouldn’t come as a surprise. He was born only four years before her, on June 21st.

Eve reads the date again, then looks at the screen on the center console of the car.

06/22/2024. 1:21 AM.

A bittersweet feeling settles in her chest as she looks up at Astarion, who seems to have fallen asleep against the window. It’s almost flattering in a way, that he would choose her company, though a part of her wishes he could have spent his birthday with someone closer, not just some random waitress and her patchwork of friends. And yet, she is glad that he didn’t have to be alone. After all, he seemed like he was enjoying himself, even if this conclusion to the night is less than ideal.

Eve returns her attention to the document in her hand, and the address she was looking for in the first place. She types it into the navigation and notes with relief that it’s only a 12-minute drive across town.

Astarion remains quiet as she pulls out of the parking lot.

But it only takes two minutes or so before he peels himself off the window and sits up, informing her in a pained voice:

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Oh, fuck me.

Since she can’t easily pull over at the moment, Eve reaches back to grab one of her reusable bags from the backseat and hands it to him.

Astarion bends forward and clutches the bag tightly as an unfortunate sound erupts from his throat, the sour smell of vomit immediately filling the car. Eve rolls all the windows down, the fresh air bringing a faint sort of relief.

It continues for a while before Astarion rests his forehead on the dashboard and groans:

“Fuck, you must think I’m a mess.”

“I don’t think that.”

“I jusss– Guess I don’t really know my limits.”

“So I take it you don’t drink too often, then?”

His body starts to shake and Eve is not entirely sure if he’s laughing or crying.

“No... He never let me. Didn’t want the alcohol to dull the pain.”

Eve grips the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white as she glances to the side, a raw mixture of pain and understanding in her eyes. But Astarion is not looking at her as he cradles his face in his hands and chokes out an apology:

“I’m so sorry, Eve.”

They stop at a red light and to distract him, Eve grabs her phone and opens Spotify.

“What’s your favorite band?”

“Bah,” he mumbles against his palms.

“Bah?” she asks, thumb hovering over the keyboard.

“AAAA–bah.”

“Oh, okay,” she says and starts typing into the search bar.

“A-B–”

“Yes, I got it.”

“B-A.”

She selects the top album that comes up, and the speakers hum to life as the first song opens with a piano slide. Astarion lifts himself ever so slightly to look at the screen in the center of the console.

“900 weeks on the UK Albums Chart,” he mumbles, sounding surprisingly coherent all of a sudden. “Longest running top-100 album of all time.”

“Hm,” Eve hums noncommittally, unsure what to add.

“21 times Platinum as of this January.”

“Oh, wow. What does that even mean, 21 times Platinum?”

“It means it fucking slaps.” And to emphasize his point, he throws up yet again.

Anybody could be that guy,

Night is young and the music’s high–

The navigation says 6 minutes, but Eve hopes to get there sooner, given how empty the roads are at this hour.

“Only se-ven-teeeeen,” Astarion mumbles beside her.

He hums for the remainder of the song, somehow managing to stay on pitch.

Eve doesn’t recognize the next track. She feels her muscles tense once the chorus comes on.

Breaking up is never easy, I know,

But I have to go.

Knowing me, knowing you,

It’s the best I can do–

His face flashes before her eyes. The look of pure disbelief when they took him away. The betrayal. The disappointment.

“After everything I’ve done for you–”

Eve skips to the next song, glad to hear no protests from Astarion. She takes a deep breath as she eyes the navigation.

“We’re only two minutes away.”

“Why are you so kind?” he slurs.

Eve’s throat tightens. Kind. Nice. Good. Words that feel like a mistake whenever they are used to describe her. Like a slip of the tongue.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

But even in his drunken stupor, Astarion is too insightful for his own good.

“Not an answer.”

And then, because she knows he won’t remember this conversation come morning, Eve says:

“Because I finally have a choice.”

Astarion hums semi-thoughtfully but, to her relief, doesn’t continue down this line of questioning.

The navigation informs her she is on the correct street, and that Astarion’s place should be coming up soon. But instead of the apartment buildings she was expecting, it’s a series of single-family houses.

“Your destination is on your right,” the voice informs her.

It’s a small house, all the lights are off.

“Is this you?” she asks, wondering if she somehow mistyped the address.

But Astarion hums a confirmation when he lifts his head to look out the window.

Eve pulls into the driveway and helps him get out of the car. She watches patiently as he struggles to fit the key into the door, before finally offering to do it for him.

Once they’re inside, he sways dangerously, and she reaches out to support him, which is apparently a mistake.

“Don’t touch me,” he barks, and Eve lets go instantly. She stands there, stunned, as she watches him stumble into the living room before collapsing onto the couch with his shoes on.

Eve takes a deep breath and heads to the kitchen to get him a cup of water. When she doesn’t find a medicine cabinet anywhere, she runs back to her car to grab some Advil.

“You should take this,” she says when she returns, placing the pills on the coffee table by the cup. “Future Astarion will thank you.”

Present Astarion groans his dissent.

“At least take out your contacts?”

No response this time.

She sighs as she looks around the space. It’s not at all what she expected his home to look like. Astarion is so expressive when it comes to his clothes and general demeanor, but this—this feels so bland and impersonal. It’s as if he got the house along with all the staging furniture and then didn’t bother to change a single thing about it.

Light snoring reaches her from the couch and Eve decides she has overstayed her welcome. When the door locks behind her, she stands there for a moment, taking a deep breath of the crisp night air in an attempt to ground herself, to drown out the echo of Astarion’s words, running on loop in her mind.

“He never let me. Didn’t want the alcohol to dull the pain.”

A car drives past and it snaps her back to the present. She makes her way back to poor Gizmo to assess the damage. Astarion’s aim left a lot to be desired, judging from the stains on the floor and car seat which become apparent in the light. She tosses the grocery bag into a bin by his driveway (it’s reusable, sure, but is it that reusable?) and then tries to clean up the rest with some wet wipes, but it’s a losing battle.

When she eventually makes it home, the lights are off in the living room, but she sees a thin slither of light coming from underneath Lae’s door. She walks over, hoping to get all of this off her chest, but as she reaches out to knock, she hears muffled conversation and Lae’zel laughing softly. Despite everything, she can’t help but smile as she takes her hand back.

a/n: thank you for so much for taking the time to read! 🧡 I would love to hear your thoughts, your comments always brighten my day

taglist: @roguishcat @arzen9 ✨ (lmk if you'd like to be added!)

my masterlist

#astarion x durge #astarion x the dark urge #durgestarion #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfiction #bg3 modern au #my fic

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papers-pamphlet · 7 months ago

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masterpost for the the lore/timeline of my amrev ocs :3

So the ocs i have are :

Giles Eleison and his lore/background

Claudia Eleison (née Difiori) and her lore/background

Josephine von Segensfeld.

there is also Carol (Giles & Claudia's daughter)

i have designs for the parents of these goobers but I won't focus on them too much.

Some stuff before we get to the timeline

here are all my tagged posts for these bozos, in order from when they were posted ! ; #Giles Eleison, #Claudia Eleison, #Josephine von Segensfeld

I also have a rp blog for Giles & Claudia, although i'm not too active there.

now onto the timeline.

BEFORE THE WAR

**Germany

Claudia Difiori is brought by her father, to Germany. See her lore.

So began a love affair between Claudia and Josephine von Segensfeld. But during a party hosted in the manor, Claudia "broke up" with Josephine because this was "unnatural" and "she had to marry a man". They had a huge fight and became bitter towards each other.

Giles Eleison is there as well. His father took him there so he may find a wife.

Giles Eleison meets Claudia Difiori, shortly after, he asks her to marry him.

**England

They both thought marriage would fix them. it did not. [1]

some years pass. Carol is born.

News of the rebellion in the American colonies reaches them. Giles reads about it one certain morning and suddenly it feels like his entire life's purpose was revealed to him.

Giles quickly leaves his home to join the army.

DURING THE WAR

Giles is thriving ! The bloodshed, violence and death is exhilarating ! He's a completely different man than who he was before !

Frederick Kenneth (@lil-gae-disaster) gains the friendship of Giles. They become drinking buddies !! [1] [2] [3]

Frederick returns from a spy mission and brings along one Joseph Hayes (@hamalicious-soup)

Giles is tasked with interrogating Joseph. [1]

Giles, for the very first time in his entire life, experiences attraction to someone. and its that man .

Joseph falls for Giles as well after seeing him covered in blood

they're tentmates :)

GILSEPHH !!!!!! [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] (I love Hamalicious's art so much genuinely)

Joseph finds a certain miniature portrait of Claudia, this is how he discovers Giles has a wife

What Claudia has been getting up to since Giles left

^^ After years of not responding to her letters, Claudia caves in to her loneliness and invites Josephine over. She sails all the way to England by herself just to see her again and so began another love affair. Despite that, Claudia is still deep in her delusions and it ends just as messy as the first time.

Cathy trynna investigate her brother

**not exactly sure where this would fit but since this is in the redcoat hamilton au, Giles would try to kill Laurens for the fun of it. But he also does find Lams "interesting"

POST-WAR, the Kenneth Farm

note: Giles was originally meant to have one ending -- he would be shot and would die alone on a field without anyone having loved him. But thanks to Joseph, his fate is split into two possible paths, or routes as i like to call them. One where he does die, and one where he ends up surviving, but pronounced dead at first.

Secret ending: Liver Failure .

Frederick reaches out to Claudia to live in the Kenneth farm

Freddie bonds with Carol !!

Claudia meets Joseph there and much awkwardness ensues [1]

Late night interaction with some of the residents [Do you not feel guilty ... for not marrying a woman? & explanation], [Which Giles Eleison did Joseph Hayes know?]

Claudia finds out about Joseph and her husband somehow and awkwardness increases tenfold

About Claudia and self-acceptance. [1] [2]

Claudia finds out about noblefarm, also she finds an actually good father figure in Gilroy

Freddie learn about one "Miss Josephine" from Carol [1]

despite that her time in the farm has been really good.

GILES DIES ROUTE

It can't stay like this forever, y'know !

after Gilroy Kenneth's death, Claudia is reminded of her own father. She quickly moves away and returns to her solitary, lonely life, spending her days as a widow and nothing more.

GILES LIVES ROUTE

GILSEPH REUNION !!! [1] [2]

silly farm shenanigans [1]

m..marriage . woah . [1]

Giles becomes a freaky priest [1] [2]

**will continue :3

extras, fun facts

Giles first started out as a character ai persona that i used to torture Laurens in front of Alexander. Also he was meant for my redcoat Lauren au at first.

Inspo for Claudia's backstory: "utang na loob"

Josephine and Freddie are cousins !

Josephine von Segensfeld and Joseph Hayes were once meant to have an arranged marriage. Josephine went livid when she found out and threw a huge hissy fit. Richard called off the marriage. [1]

a memory from giles' childhood

modern au giles :3

@marsfingershurt @lil-gae-disaster @hamalicious-soup @laurenshamiltonjr @cacaobeans

#i spent the majority of the day on this lmao #amrev #amrev oc #redcoat alexander au #giles eleison #claudia eleison #josephine von segensfeld

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wingsdippedingold · 2 months ago

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Ch 1: "Please String your Bow"

New Series: Read ACOTAR with me!

Hello! I’ve decided to start a new series of me going back and rereading the ACOTAR series, as it's been years since I last actively did so, and posting it here on tumblr!

I plan to do my best to observe the story as though I’m reading it for the first time and don’t have prior knowledge, trying to build my opinions back up from a blank slate. Some of my annotations will try to reflect that, asking questions that I or you may already know the answer to. However, I’m including many of my old comments as well.

I may start a tag list if people are interested, but with that: Chapter 1!

wc : 859 - Index

This is the line that pulled me into the chapter.

So she's shooting a recurve, which in this case, is basically the standard medieval bow you'd imagine. Unstringing is done to keep the wooden limbs from straining and getting bent out of shape from the tension.

Alright, so this is our first bit of human lore regarding faeries beyond just the "they're dangerous". Humans believe that faeries eat people.

Okay, okay, very Cinderella-esque. Now, is the expression she's thinking of sad, disappointed, or angry- at this point it seems more pitiable.

I am familiar with this pose.

Seemingly, both her family and her town rely on Feyre. I know it's to emphasize her role as the only one working, but it's weird imagining an entire town asking a single 17 year old girl to provide for them. They're asking her to be the main character at this point. The world is cruel to Feyre.

The artist in her 😭

I think its interesting that she includes bother her father and her current cottage (quote below) in this dream.

On another note, I know some people interpret the last bit to be "oh she hates her sisters and wants them gone", but I think she knows they'd be unsatisfied with the simple life that she would be, wanting to go back to their prior life of luxury. (But, she basically becomes her sisters in this dream later in the series anyway)

Feyre and painting on fucking walls

Pretty words

Feyre, baby… you gotta string your bow again…

I think I know why y'all are starving.

Our first outright characterization of Nesta from Feyre:

I mean a regular arrow would still do more damage than a bee sting. Regardless, her weapons are important for later.

👍

This confused me. Because, either way, unless you kill the wolf, you starve, unless the wolf flat out leaves, but considering it's going for the deer, it won't. If he eats the doe or scares it, you have to kill him. SJM didn't give Feyre the mindset of a poor woman in dire need of food. Is eating the wolf not even an option?

I would imagine hunting the bigger game, even if less tasty and more dry, during a time of animal scarcity when she regularly comes back empty handed, would be a starving woman's first choice. Your shot would have to be a good one regardless of whichever you choose, and if its because of disease, eating any wild animal carries risks.

Maybe I'm just being stupid, but like... if they really were that poor and in need of food, how is the wolf not even an option?

8 years of experience, assuming she had consistent practice between hunts

This happens even after death. How much research did SJM do before making an entire chapter around hunting and a character who's been doing it for 8 years?

Personally, I would try putting the poor thing out of its misery if I was unsure about pain, instead of sitting and waiting. Feyre has a hunting knife which she uses to skin the wolf later. Even with her appropriate level of caution, this animal couldn't jump up and kill you. I don't know, reading this made Feyre feel like a relatively amateur hunter, rather than the experienced one she's meant to be.

I imagine she waited for it to die in case it had faerie magic or something, but she decides that it's not one after its death, which doesn't make sense to me, because I imagine she had never seen a faerie die (or shapeshift)? How would its death have any different markers- beyond the ones Feyre couldn't previously identify- than a normal wolf?

Well no. It didn't. Earlier she said animal wouldn't live with the ash arrow in it's side, but it was her normal arrow in the eye that proved lethal (see below)

Mr. Wolf was still standing after the ash arrow, he only collapsed after the normal one in the eye.

Realistically, the better option would be to dress both animals, get rid of organs (especially the wolf's), guts, heads, genitals, and any other dead weight; this'll reduce the load by at least a third, if not a half, considering that she's only hunting for sustenance and not keeping any parts for trophies. Drag the wolf and carry the deer.

The wolf's size could be an issue- but she considers a small deer to be a struggle, so I'm not sure what's up with that. I imagine she isn't an experienced hunter and/or doesn't field dress, despite her 8 years, considering that she usually comes back empty-handed.

Alright, so dressing both animals would take upwards of an hour for someone with the amount of experience I would assume Feyre has. Regardless, for a wolf of that size and weight, with half of it against the ground, it'll take way longer than minutes to skin. You're gonna spend a while there, even if you don't dress the animal.

Back on track with Feyre being the cool protagonist that she's set up as.

Thank you for reading these! Overall, this was more nitpicky than any serious notetaking as its just the opening chapter- there's a lot more substance in the coming ones!

#acotar #read with me!#acotar critical #feyre critical #this post isn’t critical of her at all #But the pros need to back off 😭#nesta

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thewickerking · 1 year ago

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hey. what?

well. For context everyone im assuming this ask is referring to this post and my tags below

im assuming because of the. The.

Many. Prev tags on it lmao but anyways here's more context. ill try to keep specific elements vague cause i don't want to doxx my grandma and by extension myself. But yeah let's go

my grandma (maternal) ran away from home in her teens (not sure the exact year/age but 70s ish) to join the circus and worked there for an amount of time doing ticket sales and miscellaneous jobs that aren't performance based

she met a guy also working there and they dated. this guy joined a satanic cult after joining the circus (? I think. Mightve been the other way around) and performed ritualistic sacrifice within the cult/with his murder victims. he was not in charge of the cult but was an active member and serial killer across around 4 states, maybe more (evidence was found for about 4 states iirc)

anyways he got caught for evidence of multiple murders but confessed to upwards of 20 (they couldn't find evidence of this so its unclear if he was exaggerating or if there simply wasn't enough irrefutable evidence) and went to prison while my grandma was pregnant and she was also arrested as an accomplice and had her kid in prison. She was 18 at the time. Idk how long she spent in prison but it was long enough to have her son taken away

her son (first of her four children, was my oldest uncle on my moms side) has adopted parents who changed his first and last name and didn't let him know about his biological parents (and were also extremely abusive) and so my mother and her siblings and her mom did unsuccessful research to find him over the years and he found our family a few years before he turned 30 (my moms ten years younger than him btw) and we've been in contact since and he was my personal favorite of my moms siblings

Oh also the serial killer got sentenced to life without parole and is currently on death row. My uncle died last year from unrelated circumstance (I posted about it some last year if anyone remembers) and my mom adopted 2 of 3 of his kids (3rd was a legal adult already) and then they got kidnapped and their kidnappers won the custody battle against my mom so. Yeah

Oh also worth noting my mom is the youngest of the four. my grandma had four kids with different men so im not related to the serial killer but he is in my family tree? Anyways yeah different fathers. My grandma remembers the serial killer and my moms father (my abuelito ♡ love him) but doesn't remember the fathers of the middle children (my aunt and uncle). So they're my moms half siblings technically and nobody knows if the middle children have other half siblings on their dads' sides 🤷‍♂️ but my mom has a half sister on her dad's side! She's 2 years younger than me bc my abuelito got married to his ex wife later in life but they're not together anymore (?) Not sure. They broke up idk if they legally divorced but they live in different countries and don't talk to each other. So.

Id love to meet her someday! But I don't know if thats feasible. She lives in Mexico and only speaks spanish so it would certainly be difficult. But I want to.... she almost immigrated to the United States like. 6 years ago?? My mom paid for documents to be legally translated and stuff but stuff happened and it didn't go through.she also tried to kill her mom once. But she's doing better. That's all a long story. We have a picture of her in our house from when she was little!

Ok thats very tangent-y. I have a lot of family stories. But also if anyone was curious this post below was also about my maternal grandmother

shes a white woman who likes to weaponise having "friends" in nepal when people are mean to her. She's a character. if ppl are curious abt any of this i will answer btw i love talking abt my family they're deranged

#id in alt text #asks #anonymous #cult mention #death mention #<- ask to tag further im not sure whats best for this

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ruiniel · 4 months ago

Text

This storm

III. Consuming

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen | Rating:🔞| Geto Suguru x fem!Reader | Count: 2k | Summary: A less than ideal encounter leaves you with... lasting effects. | On AO3 | Tags & Warnings: fem!reader, Second Person POV, Geto didn't defect AU, But still has it rough, Set four years after Hidden Inventory, Friends with some benefits, It’s complicated, Feels, Needy!Geto, Dom energy!Geto, Self-indulgent, Edging, Sex pollen-ish, Geto Suguru is Whipped, Mutual pining, Geto Suguru POV, Alternate Universe - Canon divergence

< II

“How we need another soul to cling to.”

― Sylvia Plath

“Hmm.”

“Well…?”

You’re seated on the examination table in the doctor's office, eyelids heavy and breaths ragged.

Ieiri-san is poised before you, having just removed her stethoscope. “Elevated heartbeat, but nothing else out of the ordinary as far as vitals go,” she says. “How do you feel now?”

How do you feel? Drowsiness took over your arms and legs, your heart does seem to beat right up your throat. You rub your thighs together, unable to help it. “Like something’s missing.”

Ieiri-san smiles, removing her gloves. “Since you say you’ve inhaled the residuals of that curse, I can only devise that you have a mild intoxication… Despite that, I can’t see or sense any such residuals on you.”

“... s-strange, isn’t it? Haibara-san seemed to be fine... But then, what else can one expect…” The meaning of strange has reached a different level from the moment you became active in the Jujutsu world.

Ieiri-san helps you stand. “My only thought is this: since the curse’s been exorcised, the residual effects should wear off as well.” She pauses before speaking again. “I’m just not certain how lasting they are. Are you able to go home like this?”

Well, it’s certainly a weakening state, but not life-threatening in any way, is it? You’ll be able to crawl back. “Yes, I think so.”

“I’d drive you myself, but I’m stuck here for another consultation. Ijichi, however, is still around. Stop by the office and ask him, why don’t you? I seem to remember your place is in his way.”

“It is…” you murmur, fumbling with your shirt buttons as you dress; your body feels brimming with smoldering embers, and you wipe your brow of pinpricks of sweat.

After urging you to come and see her again tomorrow and words of gratitude from you, Ieiri-san lets you go. What did you want to do?

Right, find Ijichi… Get home…

Crossing the corridor toward the administrative office proves more difficult than you thought. Your legs stumble over each other; the embers in your body burn hotter. Something… something’s missing, missing so badly it hurts.

Suguru…

Like salt in an open wound, his name and all the meaning behind it spikes your feverish state, turning your chest and lower abdomen into a pulsing mess. You wonder what he’s doing, how his mission went…

Will he be there when you come home?

You shake your head, leaning with a shoulder against the cold wall as if the lifeless contact could crush some reason into you.

So what if he will be… so what… A violent rush hastens down your core instead of an answer; a new kind of pain you’d not experienced before, that of ravaging, unbearable need. Shame fills you at the viciously selfish trail of thought, but…

Your name echoes along the gray, dimly lit corridor.

The voice is both a balm to your mind and a rake to your lungs. Your breath stutters as you glance up ahead, catching sight of your friend’s confounded stare.

Running fingers through his hair, Suguru absently frees it from its tie. He’s a mess after today.

The daily grind of this work is, as ever, a taxing routine, the supernatural strengths of malevolence bred from their emotions barely contained and subdued by his own.

He’s famished. Annoyed. Confused.

He’s exhausted.

Can he keep this up? Again and again, the question swirls through his mind: is it worth it? For them?

He couldn’t help it—any other time, he’d never show up to see the girls after a mission, looking as disheveled and grimy as he usually does. But today he craved it: their smiles, their grounding presence. They thanked him for the gifts, they hugged him despite his warnings of how filthy he was, they insisted on wiping his face of blood.

It helps, it always does. If not for them, he’d be alone. Again he wonders if following the path of sorcerers is the right call for them. Cogs in another machine. Ultimately, it will be their own choice, but it still makes him fret.

And then there’s—

You?...

Suguru stops in his tracks, eyes widening at the sight of you, knees buckled together and shoulder propped against the wall. He can hear your labored breaths even from this distance.

His legs are moving faster than his sense; he nearly collides with you in his rush. “What’s wrong?” he asks, tilting your chin up.

He freezes.

The lost look in your eyes is unsettling. Pupils dilated so wide your eyes are black, glistening depths, your face drawn from unseen strain, brow crunched in… pain? He can’t tell. And a scent…

He doesn’t know what it is, but it pulls him in like a warm flame in a winter storm.

“Suguru…” you murmur, “you’re here… how come?” Both your hands clutch his dark jacket at his chest as you lean into him, his own instinctually grabbing onto your arms.

“Forget that, why are you in this state?” he asks, pleads. His fingers spasm where they grip you.

“I had… a small mishap today.”

“A mishap.” His voice is colder than he’d meant it to be. “Did Shoko examine you?”

You nod in assent, your weight falling even more against his as you offer a short retelling.

“I see,” he says at last, and narrows his eyes, taking a closer look at you. No, there are indeed no visible residuals from the curse, nothing as profuse or intense as to be detected.

But something is there. It’s as though it fused with you, infiltrating your cells and altering your chemistry, changing your scent… Suguru feels it, even as he feels his own, similar feelings unfurling from the depths.

You push against him suddenly, trying to right yourself on your feet and shielding your eyes with your palm. “Sorry… I'm sorry… I didn’t mean to push into you like that, I just… I hate this, it’ll wear off…”

“Hey.” He’s being as gentle as he can, as composed as the situation allows. He would never, ever want you to feel embarrassed when it comes to him, to hide or to run. He can’t bear the thought of it. Suguru draws you back in, taking advantage of your half-hearted resistance.

Yes, if it’s to make things right, he can and will use any means available. He will lie. He will exploit. He will be anything for the people he loves.

The end to that thought slams into him as he looks down at you, at the tears of frustration brimming in your eyes. “It’s not fair… we’re not… you’re not obliged to… to deal with this.” No matter you can’t even stand on your own two feet, you aggravating, stubborn, sweet girl.

Suguru grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Watching, gaze dropping to your wet, needy lips.

Gently tilting your head, he licks up the warm, translucent trail falling down your cheek; hears your weak moan as your mouth falls open, feels your face turning as his tongue glides beneath your closed eye. “Don’t push me away,” he says, tasting the salt of your tears and the changed aroma of your skin.

Yes, he can feel the affliction, tingling against his lips now. Despite its nature, it’s a delicious decadence that sears his throat, thrumming through his body like a tonic.

He wants more.

Desire deepens as your lips press against his jaw, your breath warming his skin and then you’re leaning into him again, clinging to him like one about to fall from a steep precipice.

“It’s all right… it’ll be all right,” he says, trying to contain that increasingly desperate thrashing.

“Suguru, please…”

Oh but he’s a devious man.

Why else would he love the way you beg at a time like this? He envelops you, forces your trembling body flush against him, his cheek pressed to your forehead. Yes, he knows exactly what to do. “Let’s get you home.”

Somehow you make it to his car together. You can barely see straight at this point, even less so think past the blood gushing through your veins hot and wild and merciless, drowning you with one thought and one thought only dripping down your core. An endless, shameless call.

Suguru, Suguru, Suguru.

Nothing else will satisfy.

It has to be him.

You gasp as he twists and turns you to help you into the seat; his closeness became a necessity long ago. You can barely keep your hands from touching, feeling, roaming; barely release him so he can get into the driver’s seat.

It’s torture. It’s humiliating, this craze, being this bent out of shape for someone.

“Soon, we’ll be home soon,” is all he says, his voice earnest in reassurance. There’s a rough edge to it full of promise that grazes your nerves, shooting those electrifying pulses between your legs.

Your cunt tightens at the mere thought of soon.

It makes the wait even more unbearable. You look at him, panting, studying the shapes of him, all the little details you’ve come to know. Suguru returns your glance before his eyes turn back to the road.

Soon, soon, soon.

To hell with 'soon'.

Your hand is on his thigh; the muscle tenses at your touch, and gratification swells at the certainty that you affect him this way. Your fevered gaze catches his brief stare, then trails down the bob of his throat.

“Wait—”

“Can’t.” Who the hell is this? Is it you? You want to feel warmth, want to hear him, see how his face changes in pleasure, anything, anything, anything. Your hand roams up his thigh, skimming his hip, up to his belt. You pull at a loop.

Suguru tilts his head back, eyes still stubbornly focused on the road, his hands gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles whiten. “I mean it. This is… dangerous,” he says as your hand skims lower, finding him rock-hard.

“I don’t… care…” Horrible, horrible woman. But your thoughts are on the tip of your tongue and you can’t rein their crass honesty, your hands unclasping your seat belt as you lean closer to inhale and lick up his throat, to suck on his earlobe. The cold gauge feels good against your hot mouth.

A soft groan, laced with desire. “Please.” Outright begging now.

He breathes through his nose while you palm him through his trousers, squeezing hungrily and rubbing your thighs together in the absence of touch.

Without another word from him, the steering wheel takes a sudden turn.

You fall back as Suguru pulls over. The rumble of the engine barely dies as he leans in and without ceremony reaches for you, fingers curling around the nape of your neck, dragging your face to his.

His lips crush yours, hot tongue demanding to intrude. You let him, you’d let him do anything to you at this moment. The sudden gush of warmth soaks your already dripping core, and you remember: residuals or not, no one’s ever had such command of your body, not the way he does.

His hand finds your shoulder, winds down to your chest, squeezing and thumbing at one breast through a moan.

Your eyes close. Suguru smells like a damned walking aphrodisiac to you, overpowering your will when he touches you exactly where you need it and how you need it; you smile like a fool, a hand disheveling his soft, dark strands as he licks at the dip of your collarbones, his own frenzy mellowing.

A click.

Your eyes open, glazed, meeting his darkened ones. You’re still so close, breathing each other’s air.

He draws back enough for you to look down: he’s fastened your seat belt.

Suguru kisses your forehead, lips skimming your skin as he speaks. “Won’t you wait a little longer for me, hm? We’re almost there.”

There’s a truth in his eyes that you can’t ignore, like a mesmerizing incantation stilling you and the torpor in your blood.

All you can do is nod beneath that languorous stare. Your eyelids droop lazily as Suguru properly retakes his seat, his gaze still blazing on you while he starts the engine.

You make a sheepish attempt to withdraw your touch from his thigh, but his warm, larger hand presses your fingers back. “No,” he says, his Adam’s apple dipping as he swallows, eyes back on the road. “Keep it there.”

You do, melting back into the seat, licking at his taste in your mouth and hoping it’ll last you long enough.

< II

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