#disastrous misunderstandings | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

libbybee · 2 months ago

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THE BENEFITS OF CARING — SA

◜pairing: astarion ⨯ fem!healer!reader ◜rating: MDNI 18+ ┊ wc: 13K ◜cw: fluff, sweet-dirty talk, wounds caring, previous sexual tension, feelings, rain, porn with some plot, first time sex, body worship, bodily fluids, piv, masturbation [F, M], blowjob, cock warming-riding, creampie, overstimulation, aftercare, morning talk.

▹ summary. one brow arched. “oh, really?” he asked sarcastically. “then perhaps you can explain why you’re straddling me like you are, love.”

A/N. english isn't my native language, sorry if there are grammar mistakes.

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‘He was foolish. Reckless. Utterly stupid.’

Those words spun like a storm in your mind as you watched Astarion dash into danger. All because Gale, with one of his grandiose schemes, asked him to be a distraction—a distraction, of all things. The sheer absurdity grated on you, especially after that cocky, charming smile Astarion showed.

For all his talk of survival and his centuries-old staying alive, he seemed oblivious to the risks he took, as if he actually believed he was invincible. That careless swagger, that excitement in his eyes—it frustrated you to no end. Why does he have to be like this?

You were the only one in the camp capable of tending to wounds after Shadowheart decided to go off on her own because of a disagreement. And he knew it all too well.

He’d charged straight ahead of a group of Flaming Fists, who’d been hell-bent on killing you all after a disastrous misunderstanding. How you’d managed to escape with just minor injuries was still beyond your reach, but one thing was clear: if his recklessness didn’t kill him, you might do it yourself.

When he came to you later, sheepishly asking for a hand with his wounds, you were ready to refuse—but then he looked at you, with that pleading puppy look in his eyes that seemed to make all your frustration melt in an instant… and you just gave in.

You stepped out of your tent, dressed in your camp clothes and carrying a small bag with bandages and supplies. The moment the cold night breeze swept over your face and bare arms, you regretted your clothing.

But you headed towards Astarion’s tent. And as you crossed the camp, the faint patter of raindrops began to break the silence, with cool droplets striking the ground. You quickened your pace; the last thing you needed right now was to catch a cold.

The flap of the tent swayed gently in the breeze as you lifted your hand to brush the canvas aside and stepped in.

Inside, there was a warm setting given by some candles, and the rich scent of Astarion quickly enveloped you—hints of brandy and rosemary. And there he lay, reclining on his bedroll against some plushy pillows, with an opened book resting idly in his hands, though he wasn’t reading. His crimson eyes lifted rapidly to meet yours by the moment you entered, his brow raising slightly in surprise before a smile spread on his lips.

Astarion set his book aside with an elegant flourish, sitting a bit as his hand reached to help you enter in. “Ah, my darling... at last. I was beginning to think you’d leave me alone all nigh—” His words cut off abruptly as your palm connected sharply with his cheek.

“That’s for risking your life like a fool.” You snapped as you sat beside him on his bedroll.

He lifted a hand to his cheek and soothed the stinging sensation, shocked but faintly amused by your unexpected reaction. Before he could even part his lips to say something, you raised a finger to cut him off while dropping your bag on the bedroll with a firm thud.

“Honestly, Astarion, what in the hells were you thinking?” You demanded, already taking a cloth from your bag. You didn't even wait for him to reply and just reached for his arm, where a nasty wound marred his porcelain skin. “Running in like that without a second thought...” You murmured to yourself, furrowing your brows in worry.

Letting out a sigh, you carefully wiped the wound. “What if I hadn’t been there? Or if you’d got ki—” You shut yourself, swallowing down the knot of anxiety that had lodged in your throat since the fight ended. Memories of that night at the Tiefling’s party appeared in your mind—when, just for a moment, he’d looked at you beyond his enchanting demeanour. And how that left you feeling fragile in a way you weren’t ready to confront.

After a moment, you spoke more calmly, “You can’t keep doing this, Astarion. You can’t keep risking yourself as if you don’t matter.”

As you dabbed carefully at another cut, his face tensed in a grimace, and you couldn't hold back any longer. “I don’t care how bold you think you are, Astarion—there’s no excuse for being so imprudent. You’re not some disposable distraction, no matter what Gale or anyone else thinks.” You noticed how one of his eyebrows raised with that glint in his eyes. “And don’t even think about giving me that look.”

For once, he simply fell silent, watching how your hands moved in his arm with the cool cloth with... perhaps an affectionate expression. Then his voice dropped, gentler than you'd ever heard it. “I didn't realise you cared about me... quite this much.”

Your hands froze briefly, feeling a heat rising to your cheeks. You controlled your feelings. “Well, someone has to keep you in line, and I’m fairly certain neither of our lovely friends would be up to the task.” You clarified, somewhat exasperated, but with some gentility in your tone.

You heard a soft chuckling from him, as he was aware of the truth in your words. Gently, his hand reached out to caress yours. “It means... more than you think. To have someone caring.” As your eyes dropped to his hand and then his face, you saw past his charm for a fleeting moment, past his sly smile to the man who hadn't known kindness in far too long. “Thank you.”

Your eyes widened while your cheeks rose even more, quickly looking again to his arm as you wiped another open wound. You cleared your throat. “Just... try not to make me need to patch you up every time we get into trouble, alright? For my sanity, if nothing else.”

He gently caressed the back of your hand one last time before letting his hand fall to his lap. “Oh, and miss all the attention you give me?” He looked into your eyes, pouting a little but taking in the seriousness in your face. “Fine. I’ll be more careful, love.” His voice was laced with a teasing warmth, easing the sting of worry in your chest, making it almost worth it.

The rain began to fall harder, the deafening through of it slapping against the canvas. When you looked at his shirt, there was something about how it had dark patches of blood through that caught your attention. You could almost see the bruises starting to form and the scratches beneath the fabric.

You glanced up at him again. “Astarion, take that shirt off; I need to see what’s under it.”

He raised one of his eyebrows. “Eager, aren't we?” He smirked. “I suppose I can indulge you, darling...”

You gave him a soft smile for his tease, speaking exasperated but amused. “I’m sure you’ve got wounds under there, Astarion. Just take it off.”

His smirk widened, clearly enjoying. “Such impatience... Very well, love. You’ve earned the right to see what lies beneath.” Then he reached for the hem of his classic white shirt, the delicate fabric gathering in his hands before he tugged it over his head in one fluid move, slightly disheveling his curls.

The shirt slipped away, revealing his chest and the sharp definition of his collarbones. The flickering candlelight danced across his skin, casting shadows over the subtle contours of his physique. His movements were unhurried as he was offering you a glimpse.

As he tossed the garment aside carelessly, it landed in a heap near the edge of the bedroll. The air between you seemed to shift. His crimson eyes showed a slight hint of vulnerability that he quickly masked with a smirk.

“Better?” He drawled, his usual charm creeping back. “Is the view satisfactory, or are you planning to strip me further?”

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth blooming in your cheeks betrayed your mock tiresomeness. “Oh, stop. I’m only trying to see how severe the damage is. Not everything has to be an invitation for your theatrics.” With the cloth in hand, you pressed it gently to a scrape on his shoulder.

Trying to focus solely on the task at hand, you tried not to stare too long at the sight before you, but the way you moved closer left a sense of intimacy that you couldn't quite ignore. The quiet hum of your fingers tracing his chest and the lines of his abdomen made you feel the way his skin seemed to breathe beneath your fingertips. And you could swear that you heard almost inaudible sighs from him when your hands brushed over particularly tender sites.

The storm raged harder, hammering relentlessly against the tent as if the heavens insisted on being heard.

The wounds were worse than you thought—a mixture of gashes and dark bruises, a few of them with a touch of infection already setting in. Your eyes faltered briefly when your heart tightened at this sight as you moved from one injury to the next, cleaning them.

Astarion's gaze remained fixed on you, changing between your hands and your preoccupied expression. For once, the usual, confident, and charismatic vampire who normally danced with danger and seductiveness had taken his mask off. Showing the face of someone who, for once, truly trusted in someone else and allowed you to take care of him.

His breath caught when you reached a particularly deep gash along his abdomen, and you had to steady yourself to not flinch with him. The sound of his discomfort sent a tremor through your hands. Still, he kept his endurance and didn't flinch away from you; this only made your chest ache more.

He broke the silence with a low mutter with an odd weariness. “You should stop doing that.”

Your fingers froze, halting mid-motion. “Stop what?” You asked, but not looking up, trying to maintain your focus.

“Caring so much,” he replied quietly. “It doesn’t suit you.”

You stilled, taken aback by his words, before you finally looked up to meet his gaze. “You’re a fool.” You shot back.

He let out a soft laugh, but it wasn’t the usual mocking sound; no, it sounded with a subtle trace of gratitude, or perhaps something far more complicated for him.

“You know,” he added after a long moment, his voice lower now, “I’m not used to this. To someone looking after me.”

You let your hands rest on his waist, looking up once more. “I’m not doing this because you’re special,” you replied with a snark tone. “I’m doing it because you’re an idiot, Astarion. And if you keep getting yourself hurt like this, I might just tie you up next time to keep you out of trouble.”

His lips showed that smile of his again, though more tenderly. “Ah, my very own personal keeper. What would I do without you, darling?”

After you grabbed and secured a bandage around his waist for his deep wound, you allowed your hands to stay on his body moments longer than necessary. You could feel the enveloping air between you; the silence was tense, though neither of you moved or said anything. Astarion's pupils were dilated looking at you, and they held a certain depth that seemed to pull at you.

Your mind was still so wrapped up in the care you'd given him that you barely noticed the shift in your own position until you relaxed to adjust the posture of your body. That's when the realisation hit you like a punch to the gut—you were straddling him.

Your knees rested on either side of his hips, and you could feel the constant pressure of his pelvis against yours in a way that felt far too out of place.

A sharp breath caught in your throat, and you instinctively stiffened while a rush of hotness flooded your chest. Your mind started to race: ‘How long have we been like this? How had I not noticed this before?’ The tightness of your hips against his, the way your bodies seemed to fit together so... naturally—it was impossible to ignore.

But Astarion? He didn’t falter even for a second. His body remained relaxed beneath yours, with some sort of steady confidence, like he had no intention of acknowledging the shift in the dynamic. There was the faintest shift in his posture, a barely perceptible tightening of his grip on your thigh, but it went away in an instant.

“Getting comfortable, darling?” He spoke smoothly, with a dangerous and devilishly enticing tone. His lips curled into that signature grin of his, but this time it was different; there was no teasing edge, no light-hearted mockery. Instead, there was a subtle weight to it, as it appeared to hold more meaning than it usually did.

“I must admit, I didn’t think you’d be so forward, love.” He purred. There was no mistaking the satisfaction in his voice, the quiet thrill touring his body of the intimacy at that moment.

The hand on your thigh slowly slid to your hip, allowing his fingers to linger there briefly before trailing up to your waist. You straightened up immediately, your face flushing while your pulse hammered in your chest because you had never been this close to him before—really close. Too close.

“I wasn't... trying to be forward...” Your voice tumbled, feeling a nervous tension twisting in your gut. Your words stumbled over each other, sharper than you meant them to be. “I was just trying to—”

“Trying to cure me, I know,” he interrupted, his soft chuckle rolling over you like a sensual caress. “Though, love, such a delicate position for a healer. Wouldn’t you agree?” His voice dipped, low and molten, sharpening his smile into something far more dangerous. His eyes were locked on yours, unfaltering, almost daring you to react.

Everything else blurred into insignificance. All you could hear was the erratic pounding of your own heartbeat and his breathing, far too steady for the situation.

“I...” you started, but the tightness in your throat made it difficult to say a word. You didn’t know what to say; you didn’t even know if you wanted to break the silence hanging between you. “We should probably...” The sentence fizzled out, as useless as your resolve to push away the growing tension.

Before you could even think of anything else, the heat of his touch burnt through the fabric of your pyjamas, making your skin tingle in its wake. His hand slid up your side, grazing your ribs and the curvature of your breast with his thumb before setting at your waist to grip it firmly. The way his thumb slowly began to stroke the curve of your waist only made your nervousness get worse. His touching wasn't just casual—it was as if he wanted to test your reaction.

A rush of sensations made it impossible to think clearly, your body betraying you. His posture—his other elbow propped for support—the constant pressing of his crotch against yours, his hand on your waist—it all pulled you into a current you weren’t sure you could fight.

“Go on,” he purred with the faintest hint of mockery. His gaze moved to your lips, as though he could draw out the answer with nothing but his stare. His fingers flexed slightly against your waist, the pressure sending a ripple of heat skittering through you. “What was it you were saying? Something about what we should do?”

You couldn’t meet his eyes, instead focusing on your hands as they rested awkwardly near his chest, fingers twitching. The heat building between your thighs crept upward, spreading through your belly like a forest fire. You felt flushed and shivering, not just from the closeness but from the way he was glancing at you—like you were the only thing in the world worth his attention.

You weren't prepared for this; you hadn't anticipated that the barriers you thought were between you would collapse into nothing so abruptly.

Astarion’s voice cut through your thoughts like a blade. “Are you going to keep me here all night, love?” His tone kept low, almost a growl.

You struggled to string together coherent thoughts before saying something. “I didn't know you wanted... I didn't think...” The words stumbled out again, barely audible as your voice betrayed you.

His smirk deepened, and his crimson eyes held a predatory gleam that made your stomach twist and flutter all at once. “Don’t play coy with me, darling.” His voice was velvety enough to bury each word into your ears. “I know you’ve thought about this—about me. I can see it, feel it. You want this as much as I do.” You tried to look away to escape his gaze, but it was impossible. His eyes held you captive, burning with something raw and unapologetically ravenous.

Your eyes widened as he tugged you closer with a calculated ease that made you perfectly aligned with him—causing your pussy to rub directly on his cock. The feeling made every inch of you stand on edge, your body betraying you with a tremor you couldn’t suppress. Then he reclined back against his pillows more comfortably before his other hand glided up your thigh. “Relax, darling...” He purred lowly, his tone a sensuous command that curled around you like smoke.

You became instantly conscious of the burning sensation beneath you—the growing hardness pressing insistently against your cunt. Your thoughts whirled, panic and desire colliding in a tumult. ‘How did I end up like this?’ But the answer was painfully clear—he had led you, and you’d followed without resistance for being distracted caring for him.

“I... I wasn't planning... this.” You forced yourself to meet his gaze, but his eyes—bold and piercing—made it impossible to hold.

One brow arched. “Oh, really?” He asked sarcastically. “Then perhaps you can explain why you’re straddling me like you are, love.”

His hardening length was impossible to ignore, even through the barrier of clothes, the sensation making heat surge through you in torrents. You swallowed hard. “I… It’s only because you moved me—” You tried to protest, but Astarion pressed a finger to your lips to silence you before leaning in to kiss your neck. “Moved you, did I?” He teasingly whispered against your skin. “Then don’t even think of moving, love... you're not going anywhere.”

Those words echoed in your ears. You knew you’d been fighting with your feelings since that night with the tieflings—when you’d seen him in his tent with his wine focused entirely on you, ignoring everyone else. You’d told yourself it was just the wine, the moment, but now you could hardly keep up the pretence.

For a hesitant moment, you thought about pulling away—but then his expression softened, almost looking if his black pupils were begging for you to stay with him, to kiss him when he noticed your intentions as you stared at his lips and slowly you hovered them with yours; the distance seemed endless.

With a small effort, you leaned in and kissed his lips, and you could feel how he smiled, clearly delighted by your boldness and the way your hand curled at his nape to draw him to you. The motions of your lips were slow, unsure. But as soon as you felt his opening slightly against yours, the shyness began to fade.

His hands clamped on your hips to pull you closer until there wasn't any space for doubt or even space untouched between you, and you could feel him—all of him. The pressure of his cock perfectly aligned with your entrance provoked you to gasp against his mouth; even in the hesitation, he gave you no choice but to lean into him, to crave more and push past the uncertainty that had held you back.

He just seemed to want more, that he couldn’t get enough of you. His mouth felt as if it were burning yours. The kiss started slow and tentative, but that didn't last. His lips grew more insistent as he deepened the kiss, tilting his head and parting yours with ease to slip his tongue between your lips in a hurry. This made you pant by the initial shock of it, racing your heart. Your thoughts began to dissolve, leaving only the moment, and you simply surrendered to the sensation.

The swipes of his tongue weren’t gentle at all. He was implacable, exploring your mouth, moving deeper. His kiss wasn’t just a kiss—it was an invitation, a way to encourage you. And as you accepted, you met his tongue with your own, unconfident at first, but he gave you the courage to match his boldness. Astarion groaned softly, a deep sound that reverberated in your lips, sending an intense pulse of arousal to your pussy.

There was no going back now, and you knew it. This was it—the pull to him, the demand of his touch, and now you could feel the indescribable connection that had been building between you from the very first time your eyes had met.

His lips pulled away just enough to speak. “You’re mine tonight.” He groaned roughly as his hands drifted to the sensitive space between your inner thighs, cupping your pussy and slowly kneading it with his fingers. “And when I’m through with you, you won't even remember what it felt like to be without me.”

Your chest tightened as his words hit hard, but you found yourself barely able to even think, unable to do more than just nod as you looked down at him. Your lips parted while you took your breath, while his hand moved with a voracious elegance, dragging his fingertips along the seam where your trousers joined. The air was charged and burning before he did what he did.

With a sharp tug, Astarion tore the fabric between your thighs. The sound was violent as the seams of your trousers gave way under the force of his hands, almost merciless. The rip clearly was strategic—exposing just enough to reveal what was hidden.

But the regret rushed over you the moment the cool night air hit your exposed area. You hadn’t been wearing any panties, and now, with nothing to shield your nakedness, you felt scandalously vulnerable. You cursed yourself for all the nights you decided against wearing anything, thinking no one would notice. Now, the decision turned painfully foolish.

His eyes dropped, and his pupils dilated further at the sight of his no longer hidden treasure, curling his lips with delight. A low laugh escaped his throat. “Well, well,” he purred, distinctly pleased. “It seems you’ve been planning this all along, haven’t you? No panties? How deliciously bold.”

You mentally damned your stupidity, your cheeks heating in embarrassment. The simple choice of not wearing underwear before going to sleep now felt like an invitation, one he seemed all too eager to accept.

The shock of it left you momentarily motionless and without words, feeling the cool air kissing the exposed skin of your thighs and your core. His hand brushed over the tear he had just created, grazing his fingers very close to where your pussy was.

“I can still see that shy little spark in you, even now.” He talked again, locking onto you. The playful smirk on his lips softened as he watched the blush across your cheeks. “It's almost... adorable.”

You tilted your head slightly, trying to escape his penetrating stare, a nervous pout forming on your lower lip as your hands clutched at his shoulders for some sort of stability. But a sudden gasp escaped your lips when his middle and ring fingers slid between your folds with smooth precision, parting them easily. His fingers let your clitoris be positioned right between both; your sensitive bud responded instantly after so many winters without another’s touch, and your grip on his shoulders only grew firmer.

When they finally clamped on either side of your clit, his fingers massaged it with a slow back-and-forth motion, sending an uncontrollable shiver through your nub. Your hips instinctively moved due to his stimulation, causing a soft tremor in your pelvis as the tingling sensation built. The exact pressure he exerted made you melt further, caught in the heat of it and masking your timid instincts.

All swipes of his fingers coaxed your body to react in ways you could barely control. Astarion's smile widened as he enjoyed watching the last traces of your shyness slowly dissolve beneath his touch. Eventually joining his thumb to the dance, finally rubbing directly over the skin covering your bud before pressing down in slow circles that made your thighs tremble against his hips.

“Just like that…” He murmured approvingly. “Feels good, doesn't it?”

His fingers slid forward slightly, pressing his palm against your clit while his middle finger traced the outline of your entrance. The anticipation held you captive, instinctively arching your hips, silently urging him to end the wait. And then, with tantalising slowness, he slid one finger inside you, the feeling both stimulating and exhilarating all at once. The filling was perfect—gradual but firm—and soon, a second finger joined to push in and out without pulling them out entirely.

With each slow thrust of his fingers, his palm rubbed on the skin of your clit, adding a delicious, pleasurable dual stimulation that sent spasms through your pussy, making it impossible to stay still. The strokes were maddeningly controlled, his fingers reaching and curling deeper with every smooth push, as though he knew exactly what you needed and how to give it to you. Astarion’s gaze never left your face, his piercing crimson eyes bright with pleasure, absorbing every sigh and shiver you produced.

“How sensitive, darling...” He breathed softly as he drew closer to meet your lips with his, causing a sweet pulse to your core, intensifying your throbs.

He angled his hand just slightly to reach deeper, and you gripped him tightly. You found yourself helplessly following the increasing tempo he set, encircling his neck with your arms to pull him closer and losing one of your hands in his silky curls.

Astarion's smile turned avaricious against your mouth, sensing your walls vibrate and deliciously clench around him, drenching his hand in just a few minutes. He curled his skilled fingers inside to stimulate a sensitive spot you didn't know was there, just perfectly, his touch implacable against your clit while he fucked your cunt.

Your mouth was being claimed with an eagerness that made your blood boil—he was devouring you in the kiss. His smooth lips moved against yours, insistent and hungry, coaxing you to open for him as he gently bit your lower lip. As you complied, his tongue rapidly swept in, tasting your saliva mingling with his. It was dizzying; your senses flooded with the taste of him and the coolness of his pale skin, creating a high contrast against your hot, wetting pussy and just adding to the sensations.

A low groan gurgled in his chest as his lips pressed harder, the tips of his fangs grazing your bottom lip before pulling back slightly. Just to slam his mouth to yours again with even more fierceness after taking his breath. His fingers curled more rapidly against that delicate spot within you, utterly submerging you in the magnetic pull of his caresses and the incredible hunger in his kiss.

He pulled away, his lips brushing against yours as he did, a soft, breathless hum escaping him. “I wonder,” he began, “how long it will take for you to break, darling.” His eyes glinted as he continued. “But I’m in no rush. We’ll savour this. I will…”

Your grip on him tightened, slightly pulling his hair as your hips rocked back and forth with the pace he set, lost to the growing pleasure he built for you. His touch was relentless, almost coaxing you to the brink, but every stroke was carefully calculated, carefully slow to keep you teetering, hovering in a blissful tension that left you frustrated.

Astarion watched you with predatory attention, centred on the slightest whimper that escaped your lips, as well as that exquisite pussy between your thighs. The very sight of you brought him as much pleasure as his hand brought to you.

Your breathing grew ragged as your body instinctively sought more of the pleasure he promised. The fullness of his fingers, though they were quite close to what you needed, only left you aching for more. You could feel your desire intensifying with every subtle movement, letting your hands drift lower in his chest with the need to touch, to claim him as yours. ‘At least for tonight’.

“Astarion... more, please... I want your cock inside me.” You pleaded, looking into his eyes with desperate want. “Take off these trousers...” You added, letting your fingers trail down his abdomen to where his waistband circled just below his waist, urging him to remove the last barrier between you.

He held your gaze, his eyes smouldering as a slow, indulgent smile appeared on his face. “Oh, you’re even more delicious when you beg...” He honeyed with approval, pulling his fingers out of your pussy and watching with keen interest as you trembled at the loss, the delicate quiver of your hips only adding to the pleasure he found in your vulnerability.

Before doing so, he slowly brought his dripping fingers from your cunt to his mouth, taking great pleasure in licking them clean and savouring the sweet, intoxicating juices made by your body. A soft, pleased hum escaped him as his eyes gleamed with wicked glee as he drank in the sight of your flushed face.

Only then did his hands drop to the waistband of his trousers. He didn’t rush, of course; instead, his movements were maddeningly slow as he began to slide the fabric down. The gleam in his eyes told you everything—he was savouring every second, drawing out the moment just to test your patience, fully aware of how much it would irritate you.

But just before sliding them for once and for all down, he stopped within a second. His eyes trailed their way down to your breasts, marked against the cloth, still covered while his torso was bare since you made him take off his shirt; the contrast stirred something within him. His fingers gently trailed along the fabric of your shirt, brushing down and against the edge, before his hand slid inside to grip your waist.

He looked back up, meeting your gaze with desire and playful intent. “Darling,” he purred, “don’t you think it’s only fair that you join me in shedding the rest of my clothing?” His eyes gleamed as he showed his damned puppy-like eyes for the second time that day. “I want to feel all of you against me,” he added, his tone rich with faked sorrow as his lower lip made a soft pout. “Take it off, my love...”

Oh, this definitely made you smile, feeling a spark of mischief as you looked down at him. You could tell he hadn’t quite anticipated the thought that crossed your mind.

You let your fingers drift along his bare chest again, savouring the coolness and smoothness of his porcelain skin before cradling his cheek, taking in every detail of his expectant look.

“Well,” you leaned close, letting your lips just a few inches away from his. “After tearing my favourite trousers,” you whispered, trailing your thumb teasingly across his lower lip, “don’t you think it’s only fair that you ask me—politely—to take the shirt off?”

Astarion raised one of his brows; his smile wavered for only a moment as he considered your request. Then, his expression softened, his smirk playing again on his lips as his hands slid up your sides under your shirt. “Oh, I see,” he replied smoothly, “you want me to beg, do you?”

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Yes.” You savoured every single letter that slipped from your lips. “I am dying to hear you beg, Astarion.”

A moment passed before he gave a soft chuckle, and his gaze, brimming with delight and want, locked with yours. “Please, my love.” He said lowly, needy. “Let me see those surely precious breasts you must have. I’ll be good, I promise.” He pleaded sweetly. “Take it off... just for me...”

His words only made you want to tease him more.

The diabolical glow in your eyes grew as you leaned forward, letting your thumb trace the line of his chin. You could feel the light tension in his posture, the way the red in his eyes darkened, his lips parting just a bit as he waited for... maybe a kiss? He wasn't quite sure with you. His hands on your waist tightened to pull you a bit closer, but you resisted, holding him at bay.

“Good, you say? I’d like to see that.” You tilted your head as if considering his plea. “Are you sure you’re capable of it?” Your fingers slid down his chest again, skimming over his nipples with your fingers just enough to provoke him a small shiver.

“More than capable.” He replied roughly for the restraint you demanded of him, but not being entirely sincere.

You breathed slowly as you caught his lie, but somehow, your desire for him only grew, knowing he didn’t intend to ‘be good’ with you at all.

Your hands went down to lift the hem of your shirt, but you didn’t pull it up yet. Instead, you let your fingers there. “If you want it so badly, Astarion,” you said softly, “you’ll have to ask again. Nicely.”

His expression shifted to one of purely wanting as he tightened his hands on you. “Please, my love,” he replied in a low tone. “Take it off.”

Finally, you slowly lifted your shirt to reveal your torso and the defined curves of your breasts, drawing the fabric over your head to set it aside on his bedroll and finally being completely naked to his eager stare. Astarion’s eyes glistened with a glow that spoke volumes as he devoured every detail of your flushed skin like a long-awaited treat. You couldn’t help but arrange your hair and adjust your bracelets; you felt a mix of nerves and exhilaration at his intense attention.

Astarion’s hands reached for your breasts with a speed that almost startled you, sinking his fingers into your supple flesh as he kneaded it and leaned forward. His lips found one of your nipples, capturing it along with a portion of your breast, sucking passionately before planting a warm kiss above your nipple. He repeated on its twin, savouring your body before finally looking up; the surprise etched on your face, the blush on your cheeks, and the widening of your eyes seemed to light pride in his gaze.

Astarion revelled in the comfy warmth of your flesh under his cool hands as he continued to knead and massage your breasts as thoroughly as it was slow. Trailing his lips down to run messy kisses along your sternum before returning to one of your breasts once more. He opened his mouth, homely, to get your flushed breast inside, sucking it and swirling his tongue around it, rumbling an eager hum. His hands went to your waist and your other breast to take care of it too, holding you as you leaned against him with a soft moan escaping your lips. He seemed almost like a starved child desperately seeking milk from his mother's breast.

After a long, leisurely moment, he pulled away with a final and slow brush of his tongue over your nipple; his lips glistened with saliva from his attention. A desire that seemed to consume him was burning in his eyes, and when they met yours, a slow smile spread across his face. “You know,” he murmured, “I could lose myself in you like this, so easily.” His fingers slowly contoured your waist. “But I’ll need more than just this beautiful view.” He leaned in to graze his lips on your ear and whispered, “Imagine, darling, how it’ll feel when I’m deep inside you—how I’ll make you forget everything else, until all you can think of... is me.”

Your body received a delicious tremble, an almost inaudible moan escaping your lips because of the intensity of his voice saying those words to you. Your fingers tangled in his hair to pull him closer, feeling yourself getting wetter. The simple thought of him inside you, fucking you until your legs couldn't respond any more, grew your pulse faster.

As his hands wandered lower, the ache between your thighs grew unbearable—the need to have his cock growling in your throat; you could barely stand it. Impatiently, you moved to straddle his thighs, finding with your hands his waistband.

“I need you, Astarion.” Your plea spilt out unprocessed, begging for him to end the teasing and give you what you craved. “Please take them off. I can’t wait any longer. Finish what you started.” The final word fell from your lips almost like a cry, leaving no doubt that you were beyond ready, beyond wanting. You needed him—now.

Astarion chuckled as he looked at your hands, tracing his abdomen. He laid back slightly against his soft pillows, clearly enjoying how you were so eager for him, but he didn’t move anyway. Instead, his eyes flickered to your fingers as they were about to start tugging his waistband, and his lips curled up.

“Please, Astarion.” You pleaded again. “I can't take it any more. Stop teasing me. Take them off. Please.”

He hummed, amused, with a wicked glint in his crimson eyes. “Ah, so desperate, are we?” His eyes slid downward, pausing to take in the way your pussy soaked through his fabric, already dripping as you set yourself on his thighs. “Look at that sweet little cunt of yours, dripping for me already.” As soon as he finished speaking, he let out a soft chuckle. “Can’t wait to feel me inside, I see.”

You furrowed your brows in some annoyance at his incessant chatter that only made your patience thinner. But then, his demeanour shifted nonchalantly, capturing your attention when he propped his hands up on the bedroll and lifted his pelvis fluidly, giving you room to slide his trousers out of his legs.

“Help yourself, darling.” He purred softly with that grin on his lips.

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing down, captivated by his posture. When your eyes fell to his crotch, where your hands had settled either side, you saw the clear shape of his rigid cock outlined beneath the fabric, straining against the material and angled a little to one side. The thickness and length were evident, making your entrance painfully clench around nothing and heat your cheeks.

‘How didn't I look at it before?’ Your breath hitched at the graphic, raw sight of it—exquisite and so irresistibly tempting. The aching sensation in your pussy grew, not just from the visual but from the rush of desire that quickly followed. Despite yourself, your eyes went back to his face, finding that same teasing, excited expression as though he were daring you to take the next step.

As you began to slide your fingers inside the waistband of his trousers, you brushed lightly his skin, sending a shiver to your fingertips.

And then, pulling his trousers down, you slowly revealed more inches of his pelvis and his white curls, and you could feel his intense gaze smouldering into you. His cock twitched against the fabric, building your excitement until it sprang free, making you inhale sharply at the sight. Your eyes traced his exposed skin as you slid the fabric the rest of the way down his legs. A soft rustle marked their removal from his ankles, and he lay naked before you.

His erect length was blushed and visibly soft, with subtle veins running up from its base, contrasting sharply against his swollen, rosy head. The pale expanse of his skin was almost luminescent; only the tip of his cock seemed all the more vivid. And there was precum already seeping from its slit, a trail that slid down to his sac.

For a brief, delicious moment, you simply stared. The long shape with a slightly tapered head was just stunning, and it made you realise just how perfectly he would enter and fill you. You couldn’t help but let your fingers drift to your clit, stimulating lightly to ease the relentless ache building. The wet heat spread between your thighs, growing stronger as you took in every detail.

A subtle sigh left your lips, caused by the strong beating of your puffy bud against your fingers. You traced the ridges of his hips with the other hand before brushing over from the base to the tip of his cock. It was warm, soft but firm with the ridges of its veins, and the precum that gathered there only added to its silkiness.

Your mind raced with thoughts you hadn’t fully allowed yourself to process—how new this was, how thrilling and unfamiliar it felt yet so drawn by it. Astarion was nothing like the lovers you had before. You didn’t have a long list of conquests, and that made your inexperience clear. But the way he looked at you and how his moves commanded every piece of your attention drew you deeper into something you were both eager and frightened to experience.

Without thinking any longer, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, feeling its thickness as you slowly began to stroke him in sync with your own stimulation, smoothing with your thumb the head with each pass. His lips allowed a low, appreciative sigh to escape him, sending a wave of emotion through you and racing your pulse. And with one final glance up at his face, you slowly positioned yourself between his thighs to lay down and let your stomach rest on his bedroll.

As you let your lips hover near the tip of his cock, you could feel the heat radiating from him and smell the intoxicating scent of his arousal as he smelt yours. You could almost drool at the sight before you—how you see the shift in his expression—from humour to impatience. The anticipation was exhausting for both of you, but you didn’t rush. Instead, you kissed the tip tenderly, feeling the weight of him against your lips before letting your tongue slip out where his glans started to the high point. Tasting the warmth and saltiness of his cock because of his precum.

You felt the coolness of the storm kissing you and of the bedroll beneath your stomach, grounding you as your hands remained on him, steady and assured. Astarion’s thighs tensed under your touch, caught between the impulse to take control and the pleasure of simply letting you explore at your own pace.

Each time your thumb swept over his tip, his cock twitched, responding to the rhythm of your touch and your lips. You swirled your tongue around his head, licking clean the precum that had gathered there and along his length. The taste was different than you expected—rich and heady, like a Vermentino wine, lingering on your tongue in a way that was deeply intriguing.

The low sounds slipping from his lips spurred you on as you pressed messy kisses to his length and tip, tracing with your tongue the subtle lines and ridges of his shaft. His sharp intake of breath told you just how deeply he felt every small touch, and the sheer pleasure in that knowledge emboldened you further.

“Mm, look at you,” he purred, honestly surprised and pleased. “Not so shy now, are we, darling?” His words were meant to tease as always, but the note of admiration was unmistakable, making clear just how captivated he truly was.

Your eyes met his quietly before slowly lowering your mouth to take him inch by inch. The stretch of him filled your cavity as you went deeper, feeling his rigidity slide against your tongue. You let inside more of him until you felt his tip reach the back of your throat and the hair on his pelvis brushing your nose. His reaction, the involuntary twitch, and the low hum from him sent a thrill through you as you adjusted him inside your mouth, savouring the moment.

As you set a slow up-down with your head, Astarion’s lips started to make soft, broken sounds that were like a lyrical to your ears, urging you to continue. His hand reached out to rest on the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair as he let out a silent growl. The anxiety in his grip was obvious, yet he kept his touch gentle, guiding without forcing and letting you take the lead, trembling under your care.

You slid your hands down his thighs, feeling the taut muscles beneath your fingers and feeling how his body responded to you. Each time you drew him deeply, your tongue caressed his lower vein, lavishing attention on every inch of him that his cock met with an appreciative palpitation.

Astarion moaned, his head falling back against the pillows. “Slow down, my love... Let me enjoy this.” He breathed as he allowed you to fully take him, his hips flexing slightly. His fingers tightened slowly in your hair, a silent encouragement for you to continue as he gave himself completely over to you.

With one hand still supported on his thigh, you drifted the other to his sac to massage it gently inside your palm. The action caused a louder moan from him, his hips jiggling involuntarily as you kept your mouth moving steady and more slowly, never breaking your rhythm. His low groans came quicker and even rougher, sounds of pleasure spilling freely now like an invitation to go on, filling the tent and dispersing the strong rain outside.

He moved his hand from your hair to your cheek and stopped you momentarily, cradling it in a surprisingly tender gesture as he glanced down at you. “Look at me while you do it, my darling...” He sighed, gently caressing you. “Feel how hard you make me...” His head fell back once more, unable to hold back a guttural growl as you continued with an intensified sucking, feeling his cock pulse and grow impossibly hard against your tongue.

With a measured squeeze, you tightened your grip on his sac, rolling it delicately with your fingers while your other hand remained anchored on his thigh. They trembled involuntarily, just like his cock, each movement drawing a delicious reaction until he could no longer keep still, his hips instinctively arching towards your mouth.

His hand returned to the back of your head, gripping tightly as your tongue traced the underside of his cock. All of him seemed to shiver under your touch, and he still allowed you to take control, guiding him into this sweet, little death.

But, after a few moments, you let his cock slip free from your lips with a slow drag, watching it emerge slick in your saliva and instantly cling to his lower belly because of its hardness. The dampness left a glistening trail between your mouth and him, breaking only as you leaned back, lifting a hand to wipe the last of the moisture from your mouth. He let out a disappointed sigh at the loss of you, then looked down to watch how you had left him all reddish-coloured with a sheen because of his precum mixed with your saliva.

Without a word, you rose on your knees and moved to straddle his hips, feeling the firm press of his thighs beneath your ass cheeks as you settled your weight onto him. His hands instinctively moved to your waist, gripping your sides in a way that felt almost impossible to avoid.

You could feel the hardness of his cock pressing between your folds—a solid, delicious presence. Each pulsate of its head against the own palpitations of your puffy bud felt incredible.

Bracing your hands against his chest, you pressed down gently and took a moment to enjoy the feel of him, tracing the lines that defined his chest with your fingers. His eyes were locked on you, watching the way your pussy just wrapped around his cock.

Gradually, you began to move your hips, grinding down your clitoris onto his glans with a slowed tempo that turned faster. The friction was amazing as you brushed against his slick skin, adding a sensuous layer of lubrication as you moved back and forth against his perfectly nestled cock. You could feel yourself drenching him wetter, mixing your juices with the slickness left from your previous oral.

His hungry gaze roamed over your pelvis, tightening his grip on your waist as he let out a rough sigh, savouring the way your pussy slid so enticingly along his shaft until you leaned forward. Repositioning your weight on one hand, you reached down to trace your fingers along his length, wrapping around it to guide it upwards. You pressed the tip on your entrance, dragging it slowly along your slit, feeling it start to pulse against your inner lips. His lower lip formed a slight pout as you continued to tease, drawing the moment out with almost cruel patience.

But with a final pass, you positioned him straight to your entrance, vacillating just on the edge, and looked at his face to watch his reaction—the way his eyes were focused on your pussy, waiting for you to cut the last bit of separation. Then, with a slow downward, you began to sink him inside, feeling the exquisite stretch his tip made as he filled you, inch by inch, making your walls instantly clench around him for the sudden fullness.

He let out a pleased moan, now holding harder your hips as you settled onto him completely, feeling so deep and stretching you deliciously wide after so many years of solitude. The warm pulse of him between your walls, every subtle movement of his length—an insistent throb—made you simply sit there for a moment. Letting yourself adjust to the sensation of him fully within you and the friction of your clit as it rubbed against his silvery pubic hair. He flicked up his eyes to meet yours with an intensity that made his eagerness clear as he waited for you to move.

You gently cupped his face and caressed his pointy ear, the other hand resting over his shoulder. You softly brought his face closer to yours, locking your eyes on his.

“Astarion...” You whispered. “Can you feel it? How incredible this is?” You gave him a dulcet smile before closing the distance, pressing your lips against his as you traced the line of his cheekbone and chest, feeling his pulse beneath your fingers.

Gently, you lifted yourself just slightly to sink back down, the exquisite friction sending a burst of pleasure through both of you. Astarion’s grip on you tensed again, tightening as his hips surged up to meet yours, letting out a low, throaty noise. Your lips remained together, deepening the kiss as your mouths moved in time with your bodies, setting a slow, constant pace where you rose and fell smoothly over him.

The sounds of your bodies intertwined moving together began to fill the surrounding little space—the slapping of skin on skin, the lewd, sensual noises of your pussy swallowing his cock over and over again blending with the muffled moans, and the relentless raindrops against the canvas.

He forcefully gripped your hips to dictate you, abruptly being the one controlling the pace as he broke the kiss to catch his breath. His lips hovered close, both hot exhales mingling as you rested your forehead against his, matching your rhythm. The tantalising climax drew closer and closer with every thrust, making everything else seem distant, the storm outside being insignificant compared to the tempest building between you.

His hands roamed over your body, tracing your spine before one circled your waist and the other gripped the back of your shoulder to pull you closer, urging you to press down against him more fully.

The deeper you sank, the more you felt him smack against your vaginal walls so passionately. You leaned forward, your hands wrapping either side of his waist and slightly digging your nails into his skin as you picked up the pace. The position shifted just enough to drive him pleasantly deeper in each downward stroke, with a perfect angle that made his tip hammer against your cervix.

Suddenly, the hand against your shoulder gripped your cheeks, pulling you down to capture your lips in another hungry kiss. His tongue tangled with yours, both tasting the other's mouth, becoming something truly addicting, as if he just seemed to want to devour you whole, and you couldn't satisfy your own craving. His hand slid to your nape as the kiss deepened, just like the rhythm of both pelvises grew faster.

Every thrust proved how he was losing himself, both of you spiralling higher and higher. He whimpered against your lips, a sound that vibrated deep in your mouth, feeling the tension coiling tighter within your lower belly, your body feeling worn out as it yearned for release.

His hands were everywhere—guiding, pulling, encouraging. You couldn’t help but moan against his lips, the pleasure overwhelming as your movements grew more frantic. He was holding you just right, pressing his open thighs up against your ass cheeks, lifting you just enough to make you feel perfectly aligned with his cock.

His lips parted from yours with a shaky groan as he looked up at you, consumed by the burning need you were becoming. At that moment, with the weight of your hips moving over his, your voice came out shaky, broken by the effort of holding yourself glued to him. “Am I... am I doing it right?”

The question left you trembling because of its vulnerability, making your pulse race as though the very act of asking had laid bare everything you hid beneath that little girl you were for him. You felt so desperate for his confirmation, for him to tell you that this was all he wanted.

For a moment, he looked as if he was caught off guard, eyes widening just a fraction before he composed himself.

Then his hands tightened his grasp on both your ass cheeks with determination. He pressed your hips down more strongly, making his cock burry inside you to the hilt and making your lips crush against his pelvis. “Do you feel that?” He kept pressing you down harder, grinding his hips up to meet yours. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, and it’s perfect. Move just like that—don’t stop.” The words slipped out raw and unfiltered, as if he couldn’t hold them back.

The way he said that broke whatever fragile restraint you’d managed to hold onto, unleashing a fierce, unstoppable heat within you. The only thing that existed now was him—all of him—buried balls deep inside you, turning every nerve in almost an animalistic way.

An uncontrollable need surged through you, overtaking all thoughts, as your hips immediately started to move impulsively, slamming down against his. Your body was just demanding to take everything from him, driven by a thirst he had created that couldn’t be denied. The ache of his cock stretching your entrance open and filling you that much was the divine sensation of him, the incredible pleasure of his flawless body moving exactly in time with and inside yours.

You were in pursuit of more—more of him, more of this satisfying connection. You let out a series of desperate moans, each one of them spurring you both deeper into your carnal urges, neither of you able to stop. The immediateness of it overtook you both. Your breathing was ragged as the intense pressure built, feeling him fully as he lifted his hips to force his cock impossibly inside you, aligning you just right, so deep that you could feel it in your very bones. The edge of your release was so close.

His hands dug into your ass, pulling you more forcefully against him to guide your frantic pace and stoke the fire on your clitoris as his pelvis writhed beneath it. “Just a little more...” He growled, strained, like a man on the edge of breaking. “I’m so close, love…” His words were almost a pleading cry, a raw reflection of the need that overtook him because of you.

You could feel it, see it—his control slipping away, his body trembling beneath yours as his hands gripped your hips now to urge you on, both bodies acting just like animals in heat do with an almost agonising intensity that could leave your womb aching for days. You both moved harder and faster, slapping together with an unbreakable pace. The pressure in your core was unbearable now, so close to snapping that it made your legs shake in both of the sides of his hips with the effort of holding on.

Suddenly, one of his hands slid between your bodies, finding your clitoris to circle his thumb over the painfully swollen nub with expert knowledge. Just like if he was already aware of how to trigger your sensitive spots to push you to the heavens. The friction was impossible to bear in the best, perfect possible way, making you cry in pleasure, unable to control the whimpers that tore from your throat.

You couldn’t hold back any more. His touch, the pressure, the movements of his body—it all became too much. The tension inside you snapped, and with a loud and uncontrolled moan, your walls tightly clenched and pulsated around him, your climax crashing over you in pure, consuming pleasure. Hitting you so hard that you felt like you were floating, holding on to him with the tremors of your hips.

But Astarion didn’t stop. He never ceased the maddening stimulation on your clit or fucking your cunt, coaxing another renovated sensation from you, pushing you past the point of stimulation. You tried to pull away to catch your breath, but his hands clamped down, forcing you to stay in the moment, allowing him to draw even more from you. He was relentless as the need to overstimulate you took control.

“Don’t stop, not now.” He gasped, his voice breaking as he thrust up into you harder, his thumb continuing to rub and circle your bud, trying to force your body into another climax. “I need you, my love. Please…”

The words were the spark that made you give in with a desperate cry as ecstasy crashed over you, smashing everything. You felt him pulsating and releasing with a ragged, almost feral growl, leaving his sweet lips, his body quivering beneath yours as he exploded into you, the rush of his climax pushing you to the edge. The sensation of his warm semen spurting against your cervix and filling you sent you into your second release of the night, the new pressure in your body finally exploding in waves of sheer. The powerful sensations of both of you reaching that peak at the same time made your vision blur.

Every spurt of his release throbbed deep within your womb, drawing low, tired moans from your lips as his cock continued its task to fill you, spreading his seed inside you with each pulse of the head. You pressed your hips down, grinding to take him impossibly deeper as your labia were already crushed against his damp pelvis, letting you feel every twitch and tremor between your aching walls. He groaned softly as he tightened his grip on your hips, and you fucked his cock instinctively in answer to coax out every last shudder from him.

His hands guided your hips to keep you pressed down hard as his cock stroked every sensitive inch of your walls, filling you in a way that made some of his cum slowly spill out from your pussy. Your bodies met again and again, making him feel unable to resist the pull of you as you moved perfectly up and down, simply feeling lost in you as you milked him.

Then, you both collapsed together, sweaty bodies shaking with the intensity of your simultaneous culmination and the aftershocks of your climaxes, leaving you both drained. Your breaths came intermittently, laboured, and it felt as though the camp outside had momentarily ceased to exist. The air between you was impregnated with the smell of sex and your scents, but there was also something tender about the way your bodies were embracing each other that made you feel... nice.

Astarion’s hands moved with a strange gentleness now, gliding up your back with soothing strokes in the cosiness of the moment. His lips pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, his breath still unsteady with a warmness that contrasted the freshness of your lovemaking and the way his cock kept pulsating while softening within you.

He dragged you against him. “Are you alright, darling?” His voice abruptly soft, touched with... care, concern; an unknown tenderness that caught you by surprise.

You nodded against his shoulder. “Yes…” you murmured, fluttering closed as exhaustion settled in and the comfort of his presence lulled you, feeling his quick heartbeat beneath your ear. “Just... give me a second.”

A sweet smile tugged at the corner of his lips, looking at you with adoration as he brushed a damp lock of hair away from your face, fingers running gently over your neck. “I’ll admit, I didn't think I’d be the one left wanting more… but here I am.” He said quietly. “That, my love, was truly something else for someone so lovely.” He pressed another sweet kiss to your cheek, remaining just a little before pulling away.

You let out a shaky laugh, the closeness between you both grounding your still-tingling nerves. Lifting your head slightly and reopening your eyes, you met his gaze with a warmth that made your heart swell. “You know,” you started, “I might just have to keep you around a little longer. You’ve made it hard for me to want anyone else, Astarion.” You reached to cradle his cheek as your hidden confession floated in the air between you.

He leaned into your touch, his hand hovering over yours in a loving gesture. “You’re really going to make me do this, aren’t you?” Astarion said, feigning frustration, though his eyes softened with a rare sincerity in his voice. “I had plans, you know. But it seems I’m not allowed to have anything for myself any more.” He let out a mock sigh. “Guess I’m yours, darling. For now. Don’t get too comfortable with it.”

You smiled softly, tilting your head. “Oh, how tragic,” you teased with mock frustration as well. “I didn’t realise you had such grand plans, Astarion. How terribly cruel of me to steal you away from them.” Your fingers gently traced the edge of his ear, a smirk playing on your lips. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll learn to live with it. Just try not to get too comfortable, either, darling.”

Astarion let out a soft chuckle, his fingers leaving your hand to cup your cheek tenderly. “Well, well, what a vile little thing you are,” he said with a playful smirk, grazing your cheekbone with his thumb. “Using that sweet face of yours to get your way... You really do enjoy this, don’t you?” His laugh was light, almost like a caress, before he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a slow kiss that left you aware of all the emotions he couldn’t express using words.

He held the kiss for a moment to savour your lips before pulling back to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he basked in the shared closeness.

After that, he slowly adjusted your position so that you lay more comfortably against him. Once settled, he pulled a soft blanket over you both, wrapping his arms around you snugly.

“Rest now, my love.” He murmured softly. You felt his words settle over you like a soft lullaby, and you snuggled closer to place yourself against him, wrapping your arm gently around his waist.

There, in his embrace, you let yourself fully relax in the quiet comfort of the moment with the rain outside. The feeling of his skin against yours, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, the gentle sweep of his fingers through your hair and your arm—it was everything you needed, a perfect, tender end to the passion from minutes ago.

With a contented sigh, you pressed a soft kiss against his chest before your eyelids started to grow heavy as you drifted into a peaceful calm in his arms.

As the hours passed, the heat of the night slowly faded, leaving you both tangled in each other’s embrace. You both drifted into sleep, your bodies still flushed and sweaty from the intensity of your passion that night. Astarion’s arm was wrapped around you, pulling you closer. The odd warmth of his body against yours was comforting.

As the soft light of dawn filtered through the tent, the storm was now nothing more than a distant memory, and a sudden weight pressed down on you.

Your mind, still slow to fully wake, started to be flooded with vivid recollections—the sex, the words shared, the undeniable connection you felt...

A sharp pang of awareness hit you as you became acutely aware of every quiet sound. 'Had I really just done that?' The question lingered in your mind, though it wasn’t that you regretted it—not with him, not when everything felt so unexpectedly right. But still, a knot tightened in your throat. You’d never been this irresponsible before, never allowed this kind of situation with someone you’d only known for a couple of months.

You slowly pulled yourself from Astarion's embrace. The warmth of his body left a mark on your skin nonetheless. As you sat up, the blanket tangled around your hips, and a sudden rush of cool air hit your naked chest, causing an uninvited shiver to you that woke you a little more.

Your eyes drifted to him, still peacefully asleep beside you. His bare chest rose and fell in slowly, and his expression was soft and relaxed in the morning, a sharp contrast to the intensity of your previous night.

While you stood there, tracing with your eyes his form, the weight of what had just happened was still pressing heavily above your shoulders. Embarrassment crept in, not just for the passion you’d shared but for the place you were in—his tent, in camp, with your friends only a few meters away. The unsettling thought wormed its way into your mind: what if they’d heard you?

Your eyes flicked towards the opening of the tent, a bead of cold sweat rolling down the back of your neck. You pressed your palm to your forehead, the reality sinking in. What if they had? The embarrassment felt like it was growing, and you had to swallow back the rising anxiety carving in your chest.

The thoughts swirled and twisted in your mind. Reaching for your shirt, you slowly sat up a bit more; you felt a sting pain in your muscles from the night’s activities. Your fingers fumbled clumsily to the fabric as the weight of your thoughts made everything feel more difficult. You tried to dress as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb the fragile calm of his slumber.

The texture felt harsh against your sensitive skin, while the cool morning air grazed over the parts of you exposed and between your thighs as you raised the shirt over your head to dress it.

Just as you finally managed to pull it into place, you caught a soft shift beside you. Astarion’s eyes fluttered open, his vision still cloudy with sleep, but his attention immediately locked onto you. He didn’t speak right away; his focus was on the way you moved.

He curved his lips into a small, lazy smile. There was a softness in his expression now that you didn't see before. “Good morning... sneaking off already?” He sighed with the remnants of sleep in his tone. He looked down to where your fingers grabbed the fabric of your shirt, then back to your face, his smile growing wider. His hand reached out to grab your arm, pulling you back towards him gently. “Didn't peg you as the type to leave me after our first time, darling...”

The way he still wanted you close stirred something within you—a warmth despite the storm of emotions inside you. You couldn’t help but smile softly at the thought. “I wasn’t going anywhere...” You replied quietly.

Astarion’s hand moved to your waist, his touch fierce yet tender as he pulled you closer, guiding you to lay back completely against his body. His chest pressed against your back as he nestled his chin in the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses there. You could feel the weight of him, enveloping you in a way that was both comforting and deeply intimate.

His arm wrapped securely around your waist, drawing you even nearer as he gently adjusted his position, making sure you were comfortable. You could feel the tension in your body melt as his movements spoke of quiet care, though the nervousness inside you didn’t entirely dissipate.

He must have sensed the shift in your mood. “Is everything alright?” Astarion murmured softly, concerned. His lips brushed over your ear as he spoke, a gentle kiss to your cheek that seemed to reassure you, though you couldn’t quite shake the lingering anxiety that clung to you.

“I... I just—” You broke off. “What if they heard us, Astarion?”

“We’re safe, darling,” he murmured, his voice a soothing caress that chased away the remnants of your worry. “No one knows a thing. The storm was our shield last night.”

Astarion’s hand lingered at your waist as he shifted his weight, guiding you gently. And with a slight motion, he turned you to lie on your back and face him fully. His gaze locked onto yours, his crimson eyes glimmering with something unspoken. He propped himself on an elbow beside you, sliding his other hand from your waist to cradle your cheek.

Seeing the faint worry lingering in your eyes, he offered a small, tender smile. “You know, love,” he began, “this is different. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t. I never imagined I’d feel like this—like I’d actually want this... someone.” His thumb brushed softly over your cheekbone, as if the gesture alone could convey what words struggled to express. “Last night wasn’t just indulgence, not with you. It was... real.”

The way he looked at you then was as though he’d laid down his armour, revealing a part of himself you’d only glimpsed. “I’ve spent centuries taking what I was told to, living by someone else’s twisted desires. Wanting something—someone—for myself? I’d almost forgotten what that even felt like.” He hesitated. “But here we are... and being with you, feeling this... it’s more than I ever dared to hope for.”

Your breath caught, and the sincerity in his voice made your chest feel both heavy and light at once. You swallowed, a warmth blossoming where your anxiety had been. “I want you to know that I meant every word,” he whispered against your ear.

As he drew back, his fingers entwined with yours, and he gave you a small smile, one filled with that rare sincerity he reserved just for you. “So, let’s not let the world outside intrude on this, hmm?” His eyes gleamed with a quiet plea. “Not yet.”

The words hung in the warm morning light, soothing the unease within you. Astarion shifted slightly again to recline back onto the soft bedroll, pulling you with him. You instinctively wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him close.

But as your fingers traced along his side, you brushed against something you forgot. A faint crease formed between your brows as you looked down. There was the bandage you had tied the night before, stained with a faint bloom of red where his wound lay concealed. A quiet ache of worry unfurled in your chest as your hand rested against the edge of the bandage.

Without thinking, your fingers traced lightly over his abdomen, avoiding the more sensitive area near the bandage. “Astarion,” you called softly with a new urgency. “Are you... alright? I might’ve moved too much last night.”

Astarion’s eyes opened a bit more as he recognised the genuine concern in your voice. “Oh, my love,” he purred with a smirk on his lips as he glanced down to where your hand rested on his stomach. “If anyone could survive your... enthusiasm, it would be me.” His tone softened as he covered your hand with his.

You bit your lip, the persistent worry stirring as you recalled the intensity of the night before. “Still, I should've been more careful with you,” you replied with a faint blush warming your cheeks. “I didn’t even think about it last night... I just... wanted you.”

He shifted slightly, pulling you closer until your foreheads touched, his lips barely brushing yours as he spoke again. “Believe me, last night... was everything I never knew I needed,” he said, with a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You've given me a moment of calmness I never thought I’d experience again.”

Your hand pressed lightly against his chest; he let out a quiet, contented sigh. His own hand drifted down to rest against your waist, drawing you even closer.

He brushed his lips softly against the tip of your nose, placing a sweet kiss there before he spoke. “The truth is, I’m not used to someone worrying over me. I’ve learnt to dismiss my wounds and to push through the pain alone. You make me feel seen, darling…”

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he leaned back just enough to catch your gaze, reaching with his hand your cheek to rub his thumb along your cheekbone in a gentle, absent-minded swipe. Your heart softened as you wrapped your arms around him, letting yourself melt. You nestled closer to him, the soft heat of his body a constant pull as your fingers traced lightly over his skin, careful not to touch the bandage.

Astarion’s fingers moved in slow strokes along your back, his touch lingering at the small of your waist. The quiet way his body urged you nearer made your pulse race in a way that was both comforting and thrilling. You could feel the passion of the night still lingering in the air between you, a magnetic pull that only seemed to deepen the longer you were in his presence.

“You know,” he murmured lowly, his velvety voice wrapping around your thoughts. He leaned in, his lips brushing over yours as he closed his eyes briefly. “I find myself wanting more.”

A small shiver of anticipation ran through you. He moved slightly, shifting his body to bring you closer, his hand sliding down your side until he could grab one of your buttocks. It stirred something inside of you—something that made it hard to breathe, hard to think.

You pressed your lips to his to give him a soft kiss before pulling back to meet his eyes. The intensity in his look made you ache with longing. “Astarion, are you sure you’re alright?” You asked softly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He froze for a moment, his eyes narrowing with something dark and intense, and then he leaned forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and sensual, tasting of the night and everything you’d shared. His mouth moved against yours with a quiet eagerness, and you let yourself melt into him, your hand sliding to his waist, feeling the bandage beneath your palm.

But you pulled back slightly, concern flitting through your mind again. Astarion’s eyes glimmered, his expression a blend of amusement and something achingly vulnerable. “Darling,” he replied, his voice a rough, affectionate murmur. “I can handle anything you give me.”

You leaned into him, grazing your lips with his as you spoke, “I just want to make sure you're alright... I don’t want to push—” Without letting you finish, he leaned forward to kiss your lips again to silence you. His mouth moved against yours with a quiet desperation, a demand for attention.

Astarion’s hands slowly roamed your sides as he shifted, positioning himself above you on the bedroll. You could feel the warmth of his body radiating into yours, his thighs pressed tightly against yours.

Your hands moved instinctively, sliding around his waist, bracing yourself against his lower back, feeling the curve of his muscles tense under your touch. The kiss deepened, slow and calm, as if he tasted every inch of you, pushing any lingering uncertainty away.

One of his hands moved to catch your hand and entwine his fingers with yours before pressing your hand down against the pillow. His other hand found your other wrist, lifting it gently above your head and pinning it there, his grip firm yet laced with a sensual care that only deepened your wanting of him. His thighs pressing tighter against yours.

Astarion’s breath was shallow against your lips as he finally broke the kiss to meet your gaze, his pupils wide with a need that mirrored your own, his mouth curving into a wicked smile as he held you in place. The subtle weight of him, combined with the feeling of his fingers interlocked with yours, created an undeniable sense of belonging, a wordless claim that ignited every nerve.

“Don’t worry about me,” he murmured roughly because of his desire, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “Just stay here. With me. That’s all I need.”

‎

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valverii · 1 year ago

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Switch au! My headcanon is there’s probs a few Ada members who before being aware of Chuuyas past - just truthfully believe this “Dazai” “ex partner” “waste of space” guy is just his ex husband and they just had a bitter divorce.

disastrous misunderstanding (that probably lasted for months before anyone mentioned anything)

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heartsriki · 1 month ago

Text

PAW AND PREJUDICE ⌇야옹

pairing ᝰ jay x fem!reader — featuring.. jungwon | word count: 1.8k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ fluff, misunderstandings, next door neighbor au, cussing, kissing, lots of bickering.

synopsis — after a bad first impression on jays part, his cat, shadow, might help you change your view on your attractive next door neighbor.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊this is actually so cute, I hope someone understands the title LMAOO hope you like it!

Every day, like clockwork, a black cat hopped up onto your window sill and let out a small meow. At first, it only stayed for an hour before wandering off, but over time, it wouldn’t leave until you let it in.

“Where’s your owner, huh?” you cooed at the cat, scratching under its chin. As you examined it, you noticed it wore no collar or any sign of having an owner. “If you do have an owner, they’re pretty irresponsible for letting someone as cute as you wander off like this.”

You glanced around your apartment, trying to find a spot for the cat to sleep for the night. No cat food. No bed. You considered making a quick trip to the store, but your train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell echoing through your apartment.

Sighing, you scooped the cat up in one arm and shuffled toward the door. When you opened it, Jay stood there awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with an uncertain smile.

“Hey, uh… have you—” His words trailed off as his eyes landed on the cat in your arms. “There he is. How convenient.”

“Convenient indeed, Jay,” you replied, narrowing your eyes and shifting the cat slightly out of view.

Three weeks ago, you and Jay had what could only be described as a disastrous first meeting. When you moved into the apartment next door, you’d left your door partially open to make carrying boxes easier. Jay overhearing that the new tenant was a guy, decided to stop by and offer a hand. What he didn’t expect was to find you standing in the middle of your living room, wrapped in nothing but a towel. His mortified expression said it all, and while you hadn’t forgotten, you certainly hadn’t forgiven the awkwardness either.

“Did you stop by to see more this time?” you asked sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

Jay’s face flushed instantly. “What? No! That’s not what happened!” He sighed, trying to recover. “You’re holding my cat.”

You glanced at the black cat, tilting your head. “He doesn’t have a collar. How do I know he’s yours?”

Jay put his hands on his hips and let out a long breath. “Shadow, come here,” he said, giving a quick whistle.

Without hesitation, the cat leaped from your arms and perched on Jay’s shoulder, rubbing its head affectionately against his cheek.

“Guess he is yours,” you muttered, clicking your tongue in annoyance. “Get him a collar, you jerk. What if he gets lost?”

Jay blinked at you, clearly caught off guard by your scolding, but before he could respond, you shut the door in his face.

“This sucks,” Jay muttered to the cat. Lifting Shadow, he stared him in the eyes. “And what did I tell you about sneaking out? You little shithead.”

Later that night, you couldn’t sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, you thought of Jay’s smug expression when Shadow leaped into his arms. The nerve of that guy. Shadow didn’t even have a collar—how was anyone supposed to know he wasn’t a stray?

Annoyed, you got up and wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water. As you stared out the window, a familiar silhouette caught your attention. Jay was standing outside on the small shared patio between your apartments, his phone pressed to his ear. He was pacing, one hand in his hair, visibly frustrated.

You weren’t trying to eavesdrop, but the muffled sound of his voice drifted through your open window.

“I don’t know, man,” he muttered, his tone low but agitated. “She’s impossible. Every time I try to fix things, she just—, forget it.”

You froze, realizing he was talking about you.

There was a pause, and then he sighed. “Yeah, I know I should just leave it Jungwon, but Shadow keeps going over there. What am I supposed to do? Lock him inside forever?”

Your fingers tightened around the glass in your hand. The nerve of him, acting like this was your fault. You didn’t ask for his cat to show up on your window sill every day.

“It’s a real bummer though, Shes actually super cu—“

Before he could finish his sentence, you pushed the window open. “Hey, if you’ve got a problem with me, maybe you should say it to me personally!”

Jay startled, spinning around to face you. “What the—? Were you spying on me?”

“Spying? Please,” you shot back. “It’s not my fault you were practically yelling about me in the middle of the night.”

He took a step closer, leaning on the railing. The soft glow of the patio light highlighted the irritation in his expression—and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Maybe if you didn’t slam doors in people’s faces, I wouldn’t have anything to yell about.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so full of yourself, I wouldn’t have to,” you countered, crossing your arms.

Jay let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Right back at you,” you snapped. “And for the record, if Shadow keeps showing up here, it’s because your cat clearly has better taste than you do.”

“Or maybe he just feels sorry for you,” Jay shot back, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his attempt to sound serious.

Your cheeks flushed, though whether from anger or something else, you weren’t sure. “Whatever. Just keep your voice down this late at night you asshole.”

“Sure thing, neighbor,” he said with mock politeness, turning to head back inside. But before he stepped through his door, he glanced back at you. “Sweet dreams.”

The door shut behind him, leaving you fuming—and, much to your annoyance, slightly flustered.

Two days later, the universe decided to test your patience again. Your AC broke down in the middle of a hot day, leaving your apartment feeling like a sauna. You’d tried calling the repair office, but they were swamped with requests.

Draped lazily on the couch in thin, barely-there clothes, you tried to ignore the heat until a familiar meow caught your attention. Shadow sat on your window sill, waiting as usual.

“Hey, buddy,” you said with a weak laugh, pulling him inside. “Not sure you want to hang out here today—it’s an oven in here.”

You played with him for a while, grateful for the distraction, until another ring of the doorbell brought you back to reality.

Groaning, you made your way to the door and opened it to find Jay standing there. His eyes widened as he took in your appearance—tank top, shorts, and skin glistening with sweat.

“Woah—uh, my bad,” he stammered, quickly averting his gaze all red now. “Is Shadow here?”

You rolled your eyes, stepping aside to let him see for himself. “What do you think?”

As Jay walked in and bent down to pick up Shadow, he glanced around. “Why’s it so hot in here? What’s up with your AC?”

“It’s broken,” you replied flatly, giving him a pointed look and a slight push. “Now, go.”

“Wait! I can fix it,” he blurted out, raising his hands defensively. “If you’ve got some tools, I can help.”

You hesitated but eventually relented, the heat sapping your energy. “Fine. Don’t be weird.”

Jay got to work, tinkering with the AC unit while you tried not to stare. It was hard not to, though, with his black shirt clinging to his frame and his rolled-up sleeves showing off his forearms. You cursed the heat—not because it was uncomfortable, but because it made him look entirely too good.

Jay on the other hand could feel you staring holes into him. He smirked at the thought of it. “Look at who is being weird now..”

You turned around quickly changing your focus to the TV. “Shut up before I kick you out”

He looked back at you over his shoulder with a laugh. “And let another guy fix this for you? Sorry pretty I think that would hurt my pride.”

You remained looking at the TV with a slight cough from shock, A deep red displaying on your face.

After what felt like an eternity, the AC whirred back to life, and you let out an excited gasp. Standing directly beneath the cool air, you clapped your hands like a kid.

Jay stepped down from the stool, a proud smile on his face. “So, should I put the tools back where I found them?”

“No,” you said absentmindedly, still basking in the cool air. “Actually, can you put them in the cabinet above the washing machine in the utility room?”

“Sure,” he replied, heading off with the toolbox.

It took you a second to realize what was in that drawer. “Wait! Don’t open it!”

But it was too late. When you reached him, he was holding a shiny blue collar with Shadow’s name engraved on a gold tag. Jay’s name, your number, and his were etched on the back.

“Did you… get this for Shadow?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“Well…” You trailed off, clutching your wrist awkwardly.

In all honesty, you meant to apologize to Jay sooner. A couple of days after Shadow appeared on your doorstep for the first time, you spotted a man in front of Jay's apartment. His name was Jungwon and apparently, he was looking for Shadow to take care of him for the week since Jay was out on business. When you told him he was with you, he was confused until you took him to your apartment next door and he realized who you were.

“Ohhh… you're the girl from next door he won’t shut up about, y/n?” You looked at him cautiously.

Jungwon explained Jay's entire point of view on the situation.

“Yeah you should really give him another chance, I mean the story doesn’t even make sense, Jay would never walk up on a girl like that, if anything he's the best option out of all seven of us.”

Now, with Jay standing so close, holding that collar, you finally found the courage to speak. “I’m sorry. I should’ve let you explain. I was wrong.”

Jay’s grin widened, he looked at you lovingly which is completely new compared to the glares and cold remarks shared with one another (mostly just you) and before you could say anything more, his hands gently found your waist. He leaned in, giving you plenty of time to pull away, but you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance, kissing him softly.

The kiss deepened, slow and cautious turning into something more. The pace started increasing when he picked you up and placed you on top of the washing machine. The world seemed completely silent at that moment as you placed your hands in his hair and he snuck his hands under your tanktop to feel the warmth of your waist. That caused you to exhale into his mouth and bring him closer.

That was until a loud meow interrupted the moment. Both of you broke apart, glancing down to find Shadow sitting at Jay’s feet, staring up at you both.

“Shit— really Shadow? Right now?” he sighed keeping his hands on your waist.

You looked at how disappointed he was and laughed, he laughed with you.

“So,” he said, smirking. “Does this mean I can stop using my cat as an excuse to visit you?”

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“Shadow do it,” Jay said hastily staring at Shadow through the window. Shadow licked his paw ignoring him. “Seriously out of all the times now you don't want to go to her apartment?”

Shadow looked at him silently still not budging.

“I should've gotten a dog instead, asshole.”

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akirathedramaqueen · 5 months ago

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The bias is not always conscious

And that's the case with Stolas. That's it, that's basically the post, so you can count it as your tl;dr, but let me elaborate. :)

(A little gratitude note! Sorry @tealvenetianmask, I failed being concise here, but I thank you for encouraging me to put it all together :3 I also thank you for our conversations about Stolas and about museums in particular which heavily contributed to it)

I think there's some misunderstanding when people get offended by the suggestion that Stolas acts classist/racist. It seems that people assume we’re implying he is malicious and intentional with it, but the actual problem is that he doesn't think.

S2EP2, Seeing Stars, 1:29

The problematic behavior we're discussing is reflexive and internalized. Stolas was raised in an environment where the lower demon class is looked down upon, and while he believes he expresses nothing but deep respect for Blitzø and treats him as an equal…

Goodnight, Blitzø. S1EP7, Ozzie's, 14:50

And while you can see from this bow that this intention is sincere, which is both wonderful and fascinating—he preserved this profound gesture ever since he was a kid, despite being actively discouraged from doing so!...

[Stolas]: I'm Stolas! It's nice... Ouch! [Paimon]: Don't bow to that one! He bows to us! Idiot! S2EP1, The Circus, 7:40

He was still raised in privilege and influenced by the narratives around him. For him, it's acceptable because that's what he was taught is fine. It's part of his everyday speech, and he never actually asks Blitzø, or anyone else, how they feel about the literally belittling nicknames (like literally—do you notice how often he uses the word "little" when referring to imps?).

I mean... there's a lot, okay? I'm just going to pull out some examples off the top of my head. All of them are from Season 1, and I'll explain why later.

I was hoping you brave little imps would accompany us! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 5:15

Ugh, that's better... Where's Blitzy? He's my knight in shining armor, not you, littler ones! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 13:22

And it [grimoire] isn't supposed to be lent out to itty-bitty imps like yourself. S1EP5, The Harvest Moon Festival, 0:30

Greetings, tiny Wrath Ring imps! S1EP5, The Harvest Moon Festival, 8:22

[Stolas, in the background]: Who dares threaten my little impish plaything? S1EP6, Truth Seekers, 18:20

How the fuck did you get caught by humans? Are you little creatures not being careful up here? S1EP6, Truth Seekers, 19:38

He also takes pride in being part of Ars Goetia. That pride seeps into his mind whether he wants it to or not. He lives in a huge palace, never worries about money, can arrange a seat in a club that’s always booked out, and gets admitted to a hospital immediately, while hellhounds wait five years for a Hellbies shot.

Being part of the Goetia family is rather valuable, you know. S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 4:39

Most of these examples come from Season 1 because, after the disastrous Ozzie’s date, Stolas begins to unconsciously cut back on this language. He seems to sense that something is wrong, though he doesn’t fully understand why. However, he is acutely aware of the problems with the transaction and the unfair dynamics it creates, and he is serious about putting Blitzø on equal ground by providing him with the means to run his business independently of Stolas.

And still, he maintains full control over the conversation during the Full Moon meeting, immediately dismisses Blitzø after one mistake, and throws him out. He continues to impose his narrative on Blitzø and…

I don't look down on you! How many times do I— When have I ever?! S2EP9, Apology Tour, 2:45

When have you ever indeed, Stolas? You literally look down on Blitzø saying that. This moment illustrates the problem clearly. He isn’t lying when he says he doesn’t look down on Blitzø because he genuinely believes he doesn’t.

Despite all said, Stolas is making a tremendous effort and is progressing, and he is far ahead of Stella, who is openly classist/racist and very conscious of her biases. So I believe—no, I know—he will get there one day. But not today.

This is something I take quite seriously, and I think people need to understand how dangerous this subtlety can be, as it happens all the time in real life too.

How often do you ask yourself why medical research groups are predominantly represented by white, cis, upper-middle-class males, and how this affects the efficiency of treatments suggested in these studies for everyone else—women, people of color, non-binary folks, and those who struggle financially?

How often do you visit museums and see art created by wealthy aristocrats who defined what constitutes 'fine art,' while 'folk art'—often created by marginalized communities—is overlooked and lost to time?

I could elaborate further on how deep and cruel this bias is, but I’ll stop here. I just ask you to consider why you might get offended when someone points out Stolas's subtle bigotry and why you might downplay it compared to the loud, aggressive Blitzø, whose anger and avoidant issues are obvious.

Just sit with it.

#and again let's exhale and repeat #Stolas's privilege doesn't mean his trauma or the bad side of being a royal don't matter #the only point is that he is just as flawed as everyone else #and if he isn't loud about it and is generally nice it doesn't mean the problem doesn't exist -- ACTUALLY IT MAKES IT A BIGGER PROBLEM #I actually relate to him in many ways just as I do to Blitzø #so please don't get at me trying to say I hate on him #I wish all the best to this owl and I love him as a character profoundly #helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #stolas #stolas goetia #stolitz #stolas x blitz #blitz x stolas #helluva boss meta #akira's whimpery metas #it got kinda personal at the end lol

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figonas · 2 years ago

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I’m sorry but you all aren’t listening, lyctorhood itself is not the “indelible sin” and you can pry this theory from my cold dead hands, honestly, maybe not even then. TazMuir herself could not dissuade me until she explicitly tells me otherwise. My proof for this you ask? Pyrrha’s conversation with Varun in NtN chapter 9.

But let’s backtrack for a second. John has stated that the resurrection beasts are after him and the lyctors for committing the indelible sin of lyctorhood, and as such the lyctors can never return to the Dominican System for fear of drawing the RBs back to the Nine Houses. I’ve never believed this was true given the fact that John is always the greatest common denominator when it comes to the presence of an RB and there’s no mention of an RB going after a lone lyctor. Sure, lyctors have been killed fighting resurrection beasts but there’s a huge difference between being caught in the crossfire and starting a firefight. For me, Nona the Ninth only reinforced that what we’ve been told is the “indelible sin” is either John misunderstanding the RBs (doubtful) or lying for his own purposes (more likely).

In chapter 9 of NtN, Nona recounts the story of her disastrous beach trip and towards the end of this recitation Nona says that Pyrrha;

“…crossed to the taped-up window, bottle and glass in hand. To Nona’s awe, she twitched the blackout curtains aside—stood bathed in the hyper-blue light from the sky as Nona held her breath—and she said to the window, “Here’s to Camilla Hect, yet another of devotion’s casualties,” and knocked back the glass. Then she said to the light, quite gently, “No, I don’t blame you, man … He was always looking for things to throw himself on.”

Pyrrha stands in front of Nona, bathed in the light of Varun the Eater, and proceeds to have a conversation with it. We only get one side but based on the context of the last line, “No, I don’t blame you, man … He was always looking for things to throw himself on.” Varun seemingly apologizes to Pyrrha for killing G1deon. It’s proven later on in the book that Varun can speak to Nona, and while it could be argued that since G1deon is dead and his soul is gone the “indelible sin” has been undone this still begs the question; why would the punisher apologize to the sinner?

If Varun and the other RBs are hunting the lyctors to dole out justice for their sins why would they apologize for doing the very thing they sought to do unless that wasn’t their true intent. The “indelible sin” is not the consumption of another soul, it is the consumption of a specific soul. It is John taking Alecto into himself, not being able to house all of her and instead making an exchange. Housing a piece of her in him, and a piece of him in her. Splintering the soul of a great and terrible force into manageable parts. Which explains Varun’s ominous presence hanging over the planet in the first place.

If RBs are hunting Lyctors there are no lyctors on this planet. Palamedes has not consumed Camilla’s soul, G1deon is gone, Harrow is in the River, Gideon is thumbtacked to her dead body, the only soul of any significance to Varun is Nona. Later on in chapter 13 Varun, by way of Judith, says to Nona;

“…what they did to you and what they wrung from you and what shape they made you fill—we see you still—we seek you still—we murdered—we who murder—you inadvertent tool—you misused green thing—come back to us—take vengeance for us—we saw you—we see you—I see you.”

And in chapter 27,

“….what did he do to you, to make you this way.”

What did HE do to you!!! what did HE do to YOU!! To give John credit he doesn’t deserve he may not realize it himself but the RBs have been looking for Alecto this whole time. They don’t want the lyctors, they want what John stole, they want the piece of Alecto inside of him. Want to make her whole again, their misused green thing. She’s almost there. She has her piece back from harrow’s body, united with the piece of her hidden in the locked tomb. She only has 1 piece left to collect. And god knows what will happen when the green and breathing thing is whole once again.

#the locked tomb #Nona the ninth #john gaius #alecto the first #tlt #tlt theories #this has been rattling around in my brain since Gideon the Ninth #John’s explanation of the RBs just doesn’t add up #and you know he has to be lying about it because he straight up lies to Harrow about the number of RBs in HtN

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loverangels · 14 days ago

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I got Leo x Adopted daughter of Hera. Basically the girl (or reader up too you) is basically just a mortal who can see through the mist and hera is like 'that's my kid now' and then time skip and Hera is like 'erm I heard you're dating Leo so I want to meet him' and then that's my idea. Ba bam. 🥸

meeting the family

pairings: leo valdez x fem!reader

a/n: I think I fell in love with this ask. I can totally see Leo and hera having the most intense beef with each other 😭 also in this I kind ofade it so Leo and hera have never met.....hope you don't minddd!!

You adjusted the hem of your shirt nervously, your stomach twisting into knots. "So," you began, glancing over at Leo, who was fiddling with a random bolt from his tool belt, "any advice for meeting a literal goddess? Or... is this just going to be as disastrous as I think?"

Leo grinned at you, his dark brown eyes glinting with mischief. "Babe, you’re talking to the king of disasters. If anyone can charm Hera, it’s me. The gods love me."

You raised an eyebrow, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, really? Like when Zeus almost fried you with a lightning bolt?"

"Hey," Leo protested, pointing the bolt at you, "that was a misunderstanding! Zeus can’t take a joke." He hesitated, his grin faltering slightly. "But Hera… she’s, uh, a whole different level of terrifying. She already doesn’t like me, does she?"

"She doesn’t like anyone," you muttered, chewing your lip. "She’s... protective. Especially of me. You’re the first person I’ve dated since she, you know, claimed me."

Leo blinked, and then smirked. "Claimed you? What, like, ‘that’s my mortal now’? She stamped you or something?"

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, Leo. I have a tattoo that says 'Property of Hera.' Very funny."

Before Leo could make another smart remark, the air in front of you shimmered, and your heart sank. Hera didn’t need an invitation. She never did.

The goddess materialized in a flurry of peacock feathers, her golden eyes fixed on you with an unnerving intensity. She was breathtaking, her presence radiating power, but the thin line of her lips told you she wasn’t here for pleasantries.

"Child," Hera greeted, her tone cool and regal. Her gaze flicked to Leo, who stood frozen, bolt still in hand. "And you must be the boyfriend."

"Uh," Leo started, quickly stuffing the bolt back into his tool belt, "hi, Your Majesty. Big fan. Love what you’ve done with, uh, peacocks?"

You smacked your forehead. Hera’s expression didn’t change, though you swore her eye twitched.

"Charming," she said dryly, crossing her arms. "So, this is the one you’ve chosen?"

"Mom," you groaned, immediately regretting it. Hera raised an eyebrow at the title, but she didn’t correct you. "Can we just... not do this? Please?"

Leo, seemingly unbothered, stepped forward with a cocky grin. "So, uh, Mrs. Hera—"

"It’s just Hera," she cut in sharply.

"Right, Hera," Leo continued, undeterred. "I know you’re, like, super protective of your kid here, but I promise, I’m not that bad. I mean, sure, I’ve accidentally blown up a few things—"

"A few things?" you muttered under your breath.

"—but I’ve got a good heart. I’d never let anything happen to her. I swear."

Hera’s gaze bored into him, and for a moment, you thought she might smite him on the spot. Instead, she smiled—a cold, calculating smile that sent shivers down your spine.

"Tell me, Leonardo," she said, her voice deceptively sweet. "Do you always think so highly of yourself?"

Leo blinked, his confidence faltering for a split second. "Uh, well, yeah? I mean, I’m pretty great. People say I’m funny, smart, devilishly handsome—"

"Modest," Hera added, her tone laced with sarcasm.

You groaned, stepping between them before the situation could escalate. "Okay, that’s enough. Leo, stop talking. Hera, please don’t kill my boyfriend. Can we just... get along for five minutes?"

Hera sighed, her gaze softening ever so slightly as she looked at you. "For you, child, I will tolerate him. But do not think I am fooled by his... charms."

"Charming is kind of my thing," Leo quipped, earning a sharp glare from both you and Hera. "Okay, shutting up now."

To your surprise, the meeting didn’t go as badly as you’d feared. Sure, there were a few tense moments (like when Leo accidentally implied that Hera’s sacred cows were overrated), but by the end of it, things had smoothed over.

You should have known it wouldn’t stay smooth for long. Somehow, Hera had conjured up a lavish dining room that looked like it belonged in Mount Olympus itself—probably because it did. The table stretched endlessly, laden with food that looked too perfect to be real. You sat between Hera and Leo, the tension thick enough to cut with a celestial blade.

"So," Hera began, delicately slicing into what looked like ambrosia-glazed salmon. "Leonardo, tell me. What exactly do you bring to this relationship?"

Leo froze mid-bite of something that looked suspiciously like roast pheasant. He swallowed and grinned. "Oh, you know, the usual. Genius inventor, dragon mechanic, hero. And I’m not bad to look at either, if I do say so myself."

Hera’s golden eyes narrowed. "Yes, I’m sure your... charisma will save her in a battle against monsters."

"Hey, my dragon helped defeat giants," Leo countered, gesturing with his fork. "And I built him from scratch, thank you very much."

"And yet," Hera said, taking a slow sip from her golden goblet, "your dragon has also exploded... how many times?"

"Okay, that was one time," Leo argued.

"Three," you muttered, earning a betrayed look from Leo.

"Thank you, child," Hera said with a nod. "At least someone here is honest."

Leo opened his mouth to retort, but you shot him a warning glare. "Can we please just have a nice dinner? Without bickering?"

"But bickering is how I show affection," Leo quipped, leaning back in his chair. "Isn’t that right, Your Majesty?"

Hera’s lips twitched, though whether it was a smile or the beginning of a smite, you couldn’t tell. "How charming," she said flatly.

The rest of dinner passed in much the same way: Leo making snarky comments, Hera responding with icy jabs, and you desperately trying to keep the peace. By the time dessert rolled around, you were ready to crawl under the table.

As you said your goodbyes, Hera pulled you into a hug—a rare show of affection that left you momentarily stunned. "You’ve chosen well," she whispered in your ear, so softly that even Leo couldn’t hear. "But don’t let it go to his head."

When she pulled back, her regal mask was firmly in place once more. She turned to Leo, her gaze piercing. "Take care of her, Leonardo. Or you will answer to me."

Leo saluted, a nervous grin on his face. "Yes, ma’am. Loud and clear."

As Hera vanished in a swirl of feathers, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Leo slipped an arm around your shoulders, his grin returning full force.

"Well," he said, "that went better than I expected. I think she likes me."

"She doesn’t hate you," you corrected. "That’s a win."

"Close enough." Leo leaned down to kiss your temple, his voice warm. "See? I told you I’d charm her."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Let’s just get out of here before she changes her mind."

#fem!reader #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez imagine #leo valdez smut #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez blurb #leo valdez fluff #pjo imagine #pjo fic #pjo fanfic

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superbat-love · 7 months ago

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Clark: Can you please just hold still? Do you want to bleed all over the restroom?

Bruce: Are you sure you know what you’re doing?

Clark: Trust me, I’ve seen Alfred bandage you enough times to know how to do it with my eyes closed. Seriously Bruce, I can’t believe you! Were you really going to silently sit through the meeting while you’re bleeding out from your ripped stitches?

Bruce: Ugh, spare me the lecture and just help me. We need to get back to the meeting soon. I don’t need to give your boss any more reason to give me dirty looks across the room.

Clark: That’s just Perry’s default expression.

The door to the restroom opens and someone steps in. Bruce immediately yanks Clark in close to block his injuries from view. Clark slams his hands on either side of him with a grunt, careful not to crush him.

Jimmy: Clark? [stares at the half-dressed Bruce underneath him] Mr Wayne??

Clark: J-Jimmy!

Bruce: [angrily whispering to Clark] You forgot to lock the door didn’t you? Get rid of him. Now.

Clark: Jimmy, this is not what it looks like! Me and Mr Wayne uhh… We’re just uhh…

Bruce: [Moans when Clark accidentally brushes against his wound]

Jimmy: Umm…

Clark: [whispering] Sorry!

Bruce: Hi Jimmy~ Care to join the fun?

Jimmy: N-No! Sorry to interrupt you guys! I-I mean, I don’t think I need to use the restroom after all. See you around, bye! [flees the restroom]

#disastrous misunderstandings #biggest scoop under the Daily Planet’s nose #office shenanigans #dc headcanon #incorrect dc quotes #dc fanfic #drabble #text post #superbat #dc #superman x batman #batman x superman #superman/batman #batman/superman #superman #batman #clark kent #bruce wayne #jimmy olsen

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oceanwithouthermoon · 2 months ago

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ive had several people tell me that my take on teruhashi is overdramatized but like. it genuinely isnt and i say that with my whole chest.

i KNOW that the girls in saiki k are written pretty stereotypically and yeah im 100% sure that asou didnt really mean to make his character a deep take on beauty standards and misogyny, but he was writing a parodied take on the perfect girl trope and focused a lot on how people objectify her and how shes never truly satisfied because shes always trying to fit what men want from her... so thats how it turned out. im not overdramatizing it, im just using more descriptive terms for it 🤷🏻‍♀️

#just because it wasnt literally written with the words 'im gonna fuck up these beauty standards and misogynists' in mind doesnt mean-#-thats not what he ended up writing #and before someone calls me a hypocrite im begging you to take a literature class like genuinely #im not saying that like 'because it sounds like this to me means its canon' like a lot of people in this fandom do #im literally JUST saying the same thing he was saying but with more descriptive words that he may not have been thinking of #this literally WAS what he wrote except he was a shonen manga writing man so he probably didnt think of the exact terminology lmao #anyway yeah teruhashi is one of the best takes on how girls are pressured to fit into societal expectations ive ever seen #and thats why im so critical of people who misunderstand and misconstrue her character #saiki k #tdlosk #the disastrous life of saiki k.#teruhashi kokomi #meows post #meownalysis

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stupidlittlespirit · 7 days ago

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Rating: SFW (later NSFW) Current Chapter: 1 Type: Sequel, longform Tags: Ford Pines x reader, hurt/comfort, misunderstandings, illnesses, making up, mild body horror, virgin!Ford, slow burn, bioluminescence, Ford Pines is VERY bad with feelings Word count: 5,986

After a disastrous ending to your last adventure with Ford, his careless nature leads to you catching something rather unfortunate and to make matters worse, when you seek his help, he's nowhere to be found.

#surprise!#it'll probably get too big for tumblr so it's relegated to ao3 for now #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #reader insert #gravity falls #ford pines

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hd-junglebook · 9 months ago

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"Hey Sugar"

-said with rizz

Luke Hughes x F!Reader, Trevor Zegras x Reader (platonic)

Masterlist Link

a:n Now we're delving into some of the drama. I have so much planned for Luke, so I hope everyone's excited. I will be posting a little 'announcement' later today to see what work you want from me next.

Warnings: throuple jumpscare, flirting, maybe cursing, suggestive flirting, nausea/vomiting, arguing

Summary: Luke's brother Jack arrives with friends, and a misunderstanding about you and Luke being engaged unsettles you. You long for Luke to clarify the situation, but he doesn't. When Luke suggests slipping away together for a bit, you're torn between giving in to your desire for him or protecting your peace.

Word Count - 3774

Part 3

Two agonizing days had passed since the disastrous dinner, and the volatility raging through your system showed no signs of abating. If anything, the jarring mood swings and bouts of nausea seemed to intensify with each lurching hour.

One moment, you'd be curled in a tight, miserable ball on Luke's rumpled sheets - stomach cramping viciously as you fought back waves of queasiness. The next, an irrational spike of anger would crest within you, bitter resentments and grievances spilling forth in a blistering torrent aimed at anyone within blast radius.

Poor Luke had borne the brunt of your mercurial temper more than once over the past couple days. You still cringed inwardly at the snippets of venom that replayed through your mind...the unfair accusations and white-hot outbursts detonated at even his mildest gestures of concern.

Yet, despite the vitriolic lashings, the man remained a stalwart presence at your side - steadfast and seemingly undaunted in the face of your hormonal cyclone. As if determined to simply weather the tumult until it passed, Luke took each scorching barb with stoic poise before eventually gathering you into the protective circle of his powerful arms.

It was there, cocooned in his solid warmth with his soothing baritone rumbling through your quaking frame, that you found fleeting moments of reprieve from the flames. Until, inevitably, the fires would rage anew - sparking from some unknowable origin deep within you.

This morning appeared to be no exception as the first fingers of dawn spilled buttery light across Luke's titanium sheets. You squinted against the pale glow filtering through the parted blinds, feeling that telltale cramp already blossoming in your lower belly. A low moan slipped unbidden past your lips as you instinctively curled into a tighter ball, dreading the hell to come.

In the periphery of your vision, Luke's massive frame shifted almost imperceptibly - the steady rise and fall of his sculpted torso indicating he still clung to the final wisps of slumber. A rueful smile tugged at your lips as you watched the slight furrow materializing between his brows, no doubt registering your fitful stirrings on a subconscious level.

Sure enough, those ridiculously thick lashes began to flutter in the next breath.

You tensed in anticipation as Luke's searing browns slowly blinked into awareness, searching your side of the bed with instinctual concern. When his hooded gaze finally landed on your hunched form, his features contorted into an achingly tender look of understanding.

"Hey..." The graveled endearment was little more than a whisper as Luke shifted onto his side to fully face you. "Another rough one, huh?"

You could only nod tightly, jaw clenched against the impending cramp as you focused on his beloved face. Luke regarded you with those piercing brown pools for a weighty moment, seeming to assess if reassurances or remonstrations would be required for this particular flare-up. When your expression remained pinched with stoic endurance, he simply sighed and extended one arm in mute invitation.

The profound relief that blossomed in your chest was instantaneous and overwhelming. Without a second thought, you surged into the solid warmth of Luke's bare torso - shamelessly seeking the grounding familiarity of his scorching skin against yours.

He didn't hesitate to accommodate, muscles flexing fluidly as he secured you against the powerful cage of his chest. You sagged gratefully into the protective cradle of his unyielding frame, drawing solace from the reassuring lub-dub of Luke's heart reverberating against your cheek.

Potent arms like towers of steel encircled you, one corded forearm cushioning the tender dip of your waist while the other smoothed over the rigid line of your shoulders in broad sweeps.

As always, Luke lent his steadfast strength without reservation or expectation - merely offering the uncompromising bastion of his body to weather your internal squalls.

You focused on the smoldering brand of his touch, allowing the cadence of Luke's respiration and the exquisite familiarity of his clean, male musk to sweep you under like a balmy riptide.

There would be time later for confusion, for interrogation over these distressing symptoms plaguing both body and spirit. For now, surrendering to the sanctuary of this man's healing embrace was the only sensible form of self-preservation.

…

Two hours had passed, and you felt it was time to get up. You walked around the room, gathering your clothes scattered haphazardly across the floor. Luke's rich baritone reached you from the rumpled bed. "Where you goin', gorgeous?"

Pausing, you shot him a glance over one shoulder, taking in his tousled bedhead and sleep-swollen features. "I'm gonna go talk to Jess. I'm tired of rotting up here, you know?"

Luke regarded you steadily for a beat before giving a slight nod, seemingly accepting your need to rejoin the world beyond these four walls.

"Don't take too long to come down, okay?"

The gentle plea beneath your somber tone wasn't lost on him. It caused a small, reassuring curl to unfurl in your chest as you offered a tight smile.

"I won't."

Then you were shouldering out of the bedroom, pulling on clothes with clumsy motions as you made your way down the hall. The hushed cadence of voices soon reached your ears, and you followed the murmurs into the open living room area - freezing at the scene playing out before you.

In one corner, Jessica and Maggy were engaged in what looked to be a heated exchange - their body language taut and confrontational as they traded heated whispers. You watched with a growing frown as Maggy gestured emphatically, clearly trying to make a point.

"I don't know how you expect this to work out, Jess," she hissed, slicing one hand through the air. "We both like him. He's either gonna choose one of us with your stupid ultimatum, or we can both be happy!"

Jessica scoffed loudly at that, tossing her silk tresses as her eyes flashed with indignation. "Don't give me that 'we can all be happy' bullshit, Mags! Trevor deserves more than being passed back and forth."

As their heated words escalated, you realized with a jolt that the object of their dispute was conspicuously absent. Scanning the cavernous living area revealed no sign of Trevor anywhere in the fallout radius of their confrontation.

It wasn't until you turned again that you finally spotted him - a hunched, dejected figure tucked in the far corner beside the hearth. His hulking frame seemed to radiate naked defeat as Jessica and Maggy's scathing tirades washed over him.

The swell of pity and protectiveness that bloomed in your chest was visceral. How could any of you have let things deteriorate to this point? Trevor was the kindest, most tender-hearted soul you knew. He didn't deserve to be torn asunder by your dysfunctional dynamic.

You took an instinctive step towards him, intent on extracting him from this torture. But before you could cross the distance, Trevor lifted his gaze to yours - and the breath punched from your lungs in a soundless gasp.

Glittering tear tracks shone down both whiskered cheeks, those warm hazel eyes glimmering with a devastation so profound it pierced straight through to your soul. For the span of a haunting, eternal moment, you held that hollowed stare...letting its harrowing anguish sear into your very marrow.

Then, as quickly as the connection had materialized, it was severed. Trevor blinked and rose unsteadily, turning to make his silent escape out the back entrance as Jessica and Maggy's shouts reached a fever pitch around him.

You could only watch, stunned and horrifically impacted, as he slipped away - your mind reeling from the truth that revelation had shored into aching focus. This was the insidious danger of your tangled web, of prioritizing passion over genuinely healthy bonds...

…

Luke bounded down the stairs at the sound of arriving cars, his heavy footfalls reverberating with unbridled energy. You watched from the entryway as not one, not two, but three vehicles came to a rumbling stop outside the lake house, kicking up plumes of dust in their wake.

Your brows hiked skyward as you registered the unexpected numbers, though Luke didn't seem the least bit fazed. If anything, his features were split by a wolfish grin of anticipation as he reached the front door in a few powerful strides.

"That'll be my brother and the rest of those delinquents," he supplied by way of explanation, giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze as he brushed past.

You could only nod mutely, trailing after him as Luke flung the door open with gusto. A chorus of raucous hoots and hollers immediately assailed you, accompanying the cacophony of car doors slamming and heavy footsteps crunching up the gravel drive.

At the head of the boisterous pack was a towering, broad-shouldered figure that could have been Luke's doppelganger were it not for the closely-shorn chestnut hair and thick mustache framing his full lips. This man - undoubtedly Luke's older brother - wore an equally shit-eating grin as he bounded up onto the porch, thick arms already outstretched.

"Bout damn time you got here, dipshit!" Luke crowed with unbridled affection, not even bothering to dodge the crushing embrace that sent them both rocking back on their heels.

The two titans of men crashed together with the force of linebackers, deep laughs rumbling through their powerful frames as they jockeyed for supremacy. You couldn't help but hover in the open doorway, temporarily dumbstruck by the sheer unvarnished joy radiating from their reunion.

"Hey, watch the shoulder, asshole!" the brother growled out between peals of laughter, giving Luke's trapezius a playful shove. "Just had that shit rehabbed!"

Luke simply cackled louder at that, ruffling the cropped bristles atop his sibling's head with unrestrained glee. "Don't be such a bitch, Jacky. Maybe if you toughened up, you wouldn't keep getting hurt."

The snide remark earned Luke a solid jab to the ribs, causing him to let out an undignified wheezing grunt. But the brilliant smile never faltered, only stretching wider as he hauled his brother into another fierce hug - this one softer, more lingering.

"Missed you, man," you heard Luke's deep bass rumble against the solid plane of Jack's shoulder.

The tender endearment, mumbled as it was, still managed to strafe your heart with a piercing ache of...something. You blinked rapidly, struggling to process the sudden upwelling of emotion clogging your throat as you watched them embrace.

What was happening? This was hardly the first time you'd witnessed a brotherly reunion between Luke and Jack. Hell, the two had been practically inseparable growing up, despite the five-year gap in their ages. You'd lost count of how many rowdy homecomings and holidays you'd shared in their boisterous presence over the years.

So why did this particular moment feel so viscerally charged? Why were your eyes prickling traitorously as you drank in the simple scene of contented intimacy? It made absolutely no sense, and yet you couldn't seem to halt the swell of sentiment cresting within your thundering chest.

Luke must have sensed your roiling inner turmoil because he suddenly disengaged from their clinch, turning to face you with a softened expression. Those searing brown eyes found yours over the solid mass of Jack's shoulder, glowing with naked tenderness that momentarily stole the very breath from your lungs.

"Y/N..." he rumbled, somehow managing to imbue your name with gratifying weight. "You know my knucklehead brother, Jack."

The gentle prompt snapped you from your fugue, forcing you to blink rapidly as you refocused on the newcomers scattered across the front yard. Jack had spun towards you now, those craggy features arranged into a rakish grin that could have been lifted straight from Luke's playbook.

"Well, well...if it ain't my future sister," he all but purred, sweeping you up into an enthusiastic bear hug before you could protest.

You instantly found yourself engulfed in sinewy muscle and subtle cedar musk - not entirely unpleasant save for the way it constricted your ribcage. Still, you managed an awkward sort of half-laugh, giving the man's broad back a few consoling pats.

"Nice to see you too, Jack. Take it easy there, I need these bones."

The teasing only earned you a full-bellied guffaw as Jack finally relented, carefully extricating you from his vice-like embrace. His eyes - a slightly paler, more aquamarine shade than Luke's midnight browns - crinkled with unrestrained warmth as he regarded you.

"She's a goddamn knockout and she can hang? No wonder you finally stopped fuckin' around and put a ring on it!"

The vulgar observation, accompanied by a roguish wink, instantly resurfaced the blooming mirth in your chest like a lead weight. Suddenly, the giddy elation of witnessing their reunion had evaporated - leaving only an unmistakable hollowness in its wake.

Luckily, the moment of visceral emptiness was fleeting. Luke quickly crowded in beside you, snaking one long arm around your waist in a infinitely more welcome embrace. His palm settled low on your hip, radiating delicious warmth even through the thin cotton barrier.

"Don't get too far ahead of yourself, Jackass," he admonished lightly, those smoldering browns finding yours once more with weighted intention. "There's still time for her to call the whole thing off if you keep running that mouth."

Jack simply scoffed at the empty threat, already turning back towards the cluster of cars where the rest of his companions were beginning to emerge. "Whatever you gotta tell yourself to sleep at night, baby bro!"

Though the flippant retort rankled you momentarily, you couldn't find it in yourself to properly bristle at Jack's outrageousness. Not when Luke was nuzzling his prickly jaw against the sensitive curve where your neck met shoulder, blissfully impervious to his brother's antics.

…

The raucous celebratory energy suffusing the lake house should have been infectious, intoxicating even. Jack and his misfit band of cohorts had effortlessly slotted into the group dynamic, their arrival sparking an instantaneous resurgence of riotous laughter and shamelessly off-color anecdotes.

Yet you remained closed off from it all, a mere bystander watching the raucous bonhomie unfurl at your periphery. No matter how many times Maggy looped an arm through yours with a conspiratorial wink, or Jessica pressed a fresh drink into your hand, you couldn't quite shake the leaden emptiness seizing your chest.

It was a persistent, gnawing ache - as if someone had nestled a lead brick between your ribs, slowly constricting your lungs until each inhalation was a monumental feat. You'd never felt so profoundly untethered from yourself, from the steadying anchors that typically kept you grounded.

Worst of all were the furtive glances you kept stealing towards Luke, desperately hoping to lose yourself in the contented glority of his smile...only to have Jack's parting quip ricochet through your skull like shrapnel.

Over and over, you replayed the crude insinuation in your mind's eye, feeling that spiderweb crack in your temporarily invulnerable facade each time. Why hadn't Luke corrected his brother's assumption about your relationship status? Sure, putting a defined label on the passion between you was unimportant in the grand scheme.

But the fact remained - you weren't Luke's fiancée, and the very notion that he'd allow someone to believe otherwise disquieted you in ways you couldn't fully articulate. It felt dishonest somehow, a falsehood woven into the rich tapestry of your lives that didn't belong.

So you lingered in the periphery, watching the party swirl around you in roiling eddies of boisterous camaraderie. Luke, ever the epicenter of the chaos, ricocheted between boisterous debate with Jack and sotto voce flirtations whenever you drifted within arm's reach.

Each time, you found yourself silently imploring him to bring up the innocuous comment, to casually clarify with that easy cadence of his that you were simply...complicated. That labels and conventions meant little in the face of your profound bond.

But the words never materialized, and you were left suspended in tangible torment - questioning everything and nothing all at once as the night raged on around you.

It was well after midnight when Maggy plopped down beside you on the sagging sofa, knocking your shoulder playfully as she sank into the buttery leather with a contented sigh. You barely registered her arrival, too consumed by the bitter chorus in your head.

"I'm sorry you had to see that earlier," she murmured after a contemplative pause, drawing your vacant stare instinctively. "We...Jessica, Trevor, and I...we decided it's best if we're just together. All three of us. It makes us happy, you know?"

The gentle confession, layered with audible reticence, had your brows hiking towards your hairline in a silent question. Maggy caught the wordless probe and flashed you a rueful half-smile, clearly interpreting your confusion.

"The arguing, the jealousy bullshit...it's just not worth it," she elaborated with a philosophical shrug of those curvaceous shoulders. "We're happiest when we're completely open and honest with each other - no holding back. Even if it means breaking some stupid societal norms along the way."

You felt your lips part, a thousand queries marshaling on your tongue as you processed Maggy's candid revelation. But in the end, the only response to materialize was a low, ragged exhalation - somewhere between a snort and a rueful chuckle.

Because in that endless night, with an internal war raging inside your shattered breast...you'd never felt more adrift and utterly rudderless than in the presence of their blazing certainty.

There was a tangible rightness to the path these beautiful souls had carved for themselves - a fearless adherence to the truth that burned within, regardless of proverbial norms or expectations. A level of uncompromising vulnerability that you could scarcely fathom in your current state.

It was transcendent and horribly enviable all at once...and it scorched you from the inside out.

"I...wow," you eventually managed in a papery tone, giving Maggy's slender fingers a reflexive squeeze. "That's...amazing, Mags. I'm really happy for you guys, and proud of the courage it took to get there."

Maggy's incandescent smile could have powered a small city as she angled herself towards you fully. "Thanks, babe. That means everything coming from you."

She bumped your shoulder playfully, as if to ease some of the heaviness between you. But nothing could alleviate the maddening ache spiderwebbing through your marrow - that hollowness that threatened to devour you from within.

From across the room, you watched Luke throw back his head in a rich peal of laughter at something Jack had said, jaw clenched and eyes crinkled in genuine merriment. Something fragile in your chest simultaneously blossomed with tenderness...and withered into stark disrepair.

…

A tranquil hush had descended over the lake house, the typical raucous energy giving way to contented quietude as the night crept deeper. Outside, the inky blackness was softened by a shimmering blanket of stars reflecting off the glassy waters, casting everything in an ethereal glow.

You shifted drowsily on the plush leather sofa, savoring the remaining tendrils of warmth radiating from Luke's solid frame where he was nestled against your side. His arm was looped securely around your waist, palm splaying possessively over the slight curve of your hip.

For a few languorous moments, your mind pleasantly drifted - lulled by the steady cadence of Luke's breathing and the occasional chorus of night birds trilling outside. He always ran several degrees warmer than you, his potent furnace of a body suffusing you with delicious heat.

You had nearly succumbed to a light doze when the low rumble of Luke's voice reverberated against the back of your neck, sending a shiver rippling down your spine.

"I planned a really special night for us, y/n." His midnight timbre was velveteen and hushed, thrumming with an undercurrent of anticipation.

You stirred groggily, twisting in the haven of his embrace until you could regard him properly. Luke's striking features were gilded in the pale moonglow filtering through the windows, casting his chiseled jawline and proud nose in stark relief. But it was his eyes - those blazing, all-consuming pools - that arrested your full attention.

They fairly smoldered with unnamed intensity, holding your drowsy stare hostage as one corner of those obscenely full lips quirked upwards.

"For what?" The words were slightly graveled from impending slumber as you blinked owlishly.

Luke's smile deepened into something richer and infinitely more weighted as he began tracing lazy, spiraling patterns along the soft skin of your thigh.

Each meandering caress of his calloused fingertips seemed to sear straight through the thin barrier of cotton separating you, raising delicious gooseflesh in their wake.

"I just want to do something for you," he rumbled in that sinful rasp, holding your molten stare unblinkingly. "It's...a surprise."

You felt your breath stall in your lungs at the heated promise that single word seemed to ignite. A surprise from Luke invariably meant some grand romantic gesture - extravagant and shamelessly indulgent in a way that never failed to overwhelm you.

Luke must have registered the momentary paralysis in your features because he leaned in fractionally closer, close enough for you to drink in the rich amber and cedar notes of his cologne. His palm drifted higher, finally coming to rest low on your abdomen as those blazing browns searched your face with undisguised intensity.

"This one won't be like the others, y/n," he murmured, the graveled lilt seeming to caress every syllable of your name. "This is going to be really...really special. For you. For us."

The naked sincerity, the profoundity behind those quietly uttered words...it stole the very air from your lungs in a sharp exhalation of pure wonderment.

Every nerve ending in your body seemed to blaze into awakeness, zeroing in on the scorching brand of Luke's touch as it meandered across your tingling skin.

You could only gape at him mutely through the rushof feeling, overwhelmed by the searing tenderness flowing between you in dizzying riptides.

Luke was many things in these moments - playful, irreverent, smoldering with the promise of white-hot passion. But above all else, he was steadfast - grounding you in the unshakable truth of just how treasured you were to him.

"Where?" you eventually rasped out once you'd recovered enough to form words. Moisture stung at the corners of your eyes as you held his blazing stare, everything inside of you seeming to crystallize into this single suspended heartbeat.

An achingly gentle smile curved those beloved lips as Luke reached up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear, callused knuckles grazing your fevered cheek in a scorching caress.

"I want to take you somewhere we can be alone for a little while. Just you and me under the stars. After we get home to Jersey, a night for just us, Y/N."

…

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anonymousewrites · 9 months ago

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A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Eight

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Eight: Valentine’s Day Chaos and Movie Night Misunderstandings

Summary: Saiki tries to get chocolate and to see a movie without spoilers, and neither goes well.

Saiki arrived at school with zero interest in the chocolate that Toritsuka was so excited over receiving for Valentine’s Day. Sure, he liked sweets and knew people could give them as thanks and platonically, but he didn’t want the hassle of having anyone mean it romantically.

“Good morning, Saiki!” greeted (Y/N) cheerfully. They were slightly nervous thar morning. It was clear why. Inside their bag, which Saiki could see through easily, were wrapped sweets. Valentine’s Day gifts.

Saiki nodded to them in greeting. All his previous distaste for the holiday flew out the window at seeing them. Those feelings were slightly different when it came to (Y/N). Saiki wouldn’t mind (in fact, he wanted) chocolate from them since sweets they gave/bought him were always nice (and, obviously, it was just friendship, so he had no worries, nothing had at all, everything was normal).

His mood was dampened somewhat when he spied the gifts on their own desk, but he simply sat down next to them. Hopefully, their chocolate was for him (he just wanted sweet treats, and they were always best when they came from (Y/N)), and they’d have a chance to give it to him. However…

“Have you heard? Teruhashi brought chocolates for someone!” announced a boy.

Saiki nearly groaned. Once again, Teruhashi’s strange interest in him was causing problems. She was planning to give him her chocolates, and that would cause him to be the target of the other boys’ wrath. He would have to avoid her outside of classes today. And that meant…he wouldn’t be around (Y/N). He wouldn’t get any sweet treats from them.

There is no God…

Saiki was forced to sit through class after class while listening to Teruhashi and all the boys’ thoughts. All the while, (Y/N) hadn’t made a move to give anyone their chocolates. That, at least, gave Saiki some relief. Obviously, he wanted the sweets, and it would be a disappointment if the chocolate went to someone else since he wouldn’t have anything nice to eat. That would be the disappointment.

After school ends, I’ll give these to Saiki! He’ll be so stunned by the perfect pretty girl thanking him—

Saiki’s thoughts were interrupted by Teruhashi’s plotting.

Thanking me for what?

—And he’ll say “Oh, wow!”

Yare yare.

The teacher dismissed the students. Quickly, Saiki speed-walked out of the building and around the corner before anyone could catch him. He could hear Teruhashi’s thoughts from above him as her fans tried to get in her good graces. They wanted to receive her chocolates, and she had hidden in the bathroom.

These are my only courtesy chocolates… If those guys outside find out that I gave them to Saiki…he’ll definitely be…! Teruhashi pictured Saiki beaten up by thugs. No, not only that. A World War will break out! O-Oh, no! To think that my chocolates are the most dangerous weapon known to man! I can’t give this to him at all! She opened the bathroom window and tossed the chocolates out. I’m sorry, Saiki!

The gift dropped next to Saiki in the grass.

Yare yare. That’s a tad overdramatic. He reached out and placed his hand on the chocolates. Easily, he teleported it to Hairo’s bags of sweets. It would blend in there and not go to waste. Saiki couldn’t eat them. Even his sweet tooth was subject to his emotions. He wanted only (Y/N)’s chocolate on Valentine’s Day because…Well, because they were the only person he could truly admit he had a connection—friendship—with. Saiki stood up and walked towards the school entrance. Now that the situation was fixed, he could leave without being chased by Teruhashi. He rounded the corner and paused in surprise.

(Y/N) was sitting on the curb at the gates, swinging their legs idly. The sun shone down on them, giving them a glow akin to Teruhashi.

Oh, wow.

A small voice in Saiki’s mind whispered the two forbidden words, and he cleared them away immediately as (Y/N) turned and saw him walking towards them.

“Saiki!” They beamed. “I’ve been waiting!”

“You waited for me?” It was…sweet. He liked the warm feeling it brough to his chest.

“Of course!” (Y/N) answered as if it was obvious. “I’ve got something for you!”

So it was for me. Saiki was glad.

They brought out their chocolates from their bag. “Here you go! For being such a wonderful friend!” And the one I like. But I can’t tell you that.

Ever since their realization, they’d battled their feelings and come to the conclusion that they’d just be a good friend to Saiki at most. They wouldn’t cross his boundaries since he didn’t seem to like anyone having a crush on him. (Y/N) would just be his friend. It…hurt a little, but they wouldn’t give up a good friendship for a ruined attempt at romance. (Y/N) valued Saiki as a friend as much as anything else.

Saiki blinked and took the gift. “Thank you very much.” He was constantly blunt, but somehow, those words felt more truthful to his heart than any others he had spoken in his life.

(Y/N) skipped towards the move theater happily. They were excited to see the Specializer: Live Action movie. They were more delighted when they spied Saiki entering the cinema.

“Saiki!” They waved to him. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I’m a teenager at the movie theater.” Saiki was being sarcastic as usual, but (Y/N) was right, he didn’t go to the cinema anymore. His telepathy caused too much trouble. Now, however…he had his very own germanium ring. Saiki didn’t have to hear people’s thoughts anymore. He wouldn’t have anything get spoiled.

(Y/N) shrugged. “Fair point. Are you here to see Specializer?”

“Yes.”

“I am, too!” They grinned. “Let’s go get tickets!”

For all my bad luck, it looks like God is actually helping me out today.

“That’s a nice ring!” commented (Y/N) as they walked in. “They look like the same metal as my earrings.”

Saiki shrugged in answer.

“Two tickets to Specializer,” said (Y/N) to the saleswoman.

“Oh, how nice, a date to the movies!” remarked the lady.

(Y/N)’s cheeks warmed. “Oh, uh, it’s—”

“Yes, it’s nice,” said Saiki shortly, paying for the tickets and walking away. “No point in arguing with her. It’ll just waste time.”

(Y/N) jogged to keep up with him. “If you say so.” They pushed away their stomach doing flips. “Let me pay for snacks at least. Now I have more money to spare on it.”

Saiki nodded and let them buy the popcorn and sodas. While they walked to the theater, he easily avoided all the people who might have spoiled movies in the past. He and (Y/N) got nice seats in the theater, too. Things were actually going well for Saiki. He couldn’t help but smile.

A germanium ring and (Y/N). It seems today is working out surprisingly in my favor.

“Saiki, (L/N)?”

I spoke too soon.

(Y/N) nearly groaned. They almost got over an hour of time alone with Saiki (extremely difficult to obtain and rare), but, of course, a wild Teruhashi had to appear and ruin it. (Y/N) had nothing against Teruhashi, but…she attracted attention, especially from boys, and it made (Y/N) a bit insecure. Plus, it annoyed Saiki, and (Y/N) didn’t want him to have a bad day.

Next to her, Saiki was also nearly groaning at how much the world hated him. He was also realizing that he could have avoided Teruhashi if he heard her thoughts early and cursing germanium again.

“Hi, Teruhashi,” said (Y/N). They managed their usual cheerfulness and smiled.

“Wow! What a coincidence! Are you two on a date?” Teruhashi’s eyes darted between the two.

“Um, no, we aren’t,” said (Y/N) while Saiki shook his head.

“Oh!” Teruhashi’s cheeks turned pink. She was happy to know that, although she couldn’t admit it to herself. “W-Well, I guess we’re all watching the movie together.”

“Yeah…” answered (Y/N).

I can’t hear her thoughts…That’s a problem. But I’ve been wanting to see this movie for a while, and I’m having a decent time.

“D-Don’t this is an excuse,” said Teruhashi, “But I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” She looked at Saiki, obviously speaking more to him than (Y/N). “You see, I’m here with someone, and…”

“Oh?” Even Saiki was surprised on that one.

“Kokomi! I bought some popcorn!” said a male voice. It was a boy with blue hair and sunglasses on.

I swear I know him from somewhere, thought (Y/N). Probably someone famous since Teruhashi thinks he’s worthy of her.

“Hey! Hey, you!” The boy took his sunglasses off and glared at Saiki. “What’s your relationship with my Kokomi?” He caught sight of (Y/N). “And what’re you doing with this poor teenager!”

(Y/N) tilted their head in confusion at the statement.

Yare yare. I never thought that (Y/N) would bring me unwanted attention.

“Ah! Hey! Don’t take off your sunglasses!” exclaimed Teruhashi.

Suddenly, all the patrons of the theater recognized the boy. It was Toru Megumi, the star of the film. They immediately crowded around him, obscuring any sound or view of the screen. Saiki decided to leave. The commotion would cause the showing to be canceled anyways. When he looked around, however, he could barely see (Y/N). Only their hand was visible. Using a bit of his super strength, he pushed through and grasped their wrist. Saiki pulled them out of the crowd and the theater.

(Y/N) took a few deep breaths. Being nearly trampled was not a pleasant experience. “Thanks, you really saved me back there,” said (Y/N), chuckling through the adrenaline.

Saiki simply nodded at them. Of course he had. They were his friend.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to see the movie. Do you want to go watch one at one of our houses?” asked (Y/N).

“My mom has been asking to see you,” mentioned Saiki. It was a good excuse to invite (Y/N) over without admitting he tolerated them.

“She’s sweet!”

Saiki and (Y/N) had long since finished the move that had been playing on TV, but Mrs. Saiki invited (Y/N) to stay over. Now, the two teenagers were sitting on the couch reading comfortably as Mrs. Saiki turned on the television. Saiki was holding the book while (Y/N) looked over his shoulder from where they lay on the couch (He had taken off the ring by now). So far, it was a relatively quiet, domestic night. In fact, Saiki was quite enjoying having (Y/N) over. And his parents liked them, so slowly but surely, (Y/N) was somehow becoming part of the Saiki household. Their parents were often away, so (Y/N) spent time in the Saiki home. Saiki didn’t mind them being a permanent part of his life. It was nice to have them around. Saiki supposed having it as a constant would be even better.

But what that meant evaded him in a strange manner. He had the disconcerting feeling he was missing something.

“Ah! Toru is on TV!” gushed Mrs. Saiki.

“Who?” asked Mr. Saiki.

“Oh, you don’t know him? It’s Toru Mugami,” said Mrs. Saiki. “He’s the most popular young actor today! I’ve become a huge fan of his! He’s known for his good looks, charm, and talent! Many people admire him. What do you think of him, (Y/N)?” Mrs. Saiki had taken to calling (Y/N) by their first name since she viewed the teen as a kid (and hopefully an in-law, if she had her way).

(Y/N) shrugged. “I like his movies, but he’s not my type.” They glanced at Saiki for a moment before looking carefully away.

Not their type? Maybe Kuu is! They’d be so cute together! thought Mrs. Saiki.

Saiki’s eyes widened minutely. He hadn’t expected that.

“Honey…who do you like more? Me or that Toru guy?” asked Mr. Saiki.

“That’s a no brainer! Of course, it’s you, honey! Compared to you, he’s a fly on dog droppings!”

“Isn’t that a little harsh?”

“Your parents really love each other,” observed (Y/N), smiling softly.

“Yeah.”

“I hope to have a love like theirs. Not as energetic, but…true, enduring love,” said (Y/N). They laughed sheepishly. “I guess it’s a little silly, isn’t it?”

“No, it isn’t.”

Saiki knew what they meant. He saw people at school get in and out of relationships frequently, but although his parents were annoyingly in love, he preferred their constant affection compared to rocky relationships. He’d rather find one person he’d want to be around forever than be “passionately” into different people every-so-often. Besides, only one really fit his temperament.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and the moment was broken.

“Oh, a visitor!” remarked Mrs. Saiki, still hugging her husband while they used their strange fly on dog poop metaphor.

“Geez, can’t they see we’re having a moment?” said Mr. Saiki.

“Coming! Who is it?” Mrs. Saiki opened the door and gasped.

“What’s wrong, honey?!” cried Mr. Saiki.

“It’s the fly…I mean…!”

“Sorry to bother you this evening,” said Toru Mugami. “Is this where Kusuo Saiki lives?”

Mr. Saiki looked from him to the TV. “It’s the guy from TV!”

“Why is Toru at our place?!” cried Mrs. Saiki.

“Quiet. You’ll upset the neighbors.”

Finally, Mr. and Mrs. Saiki managed to compose themselves and set out a drink for Toru in the dining room.

“Thank you very much!” said Toru. He looked at the two teenagers. “Kusuo, (Y/N), do you remember that we met at the movie theater? I thought you might’ve gotten the wrong idea, so…To tell you the truth, Kokomi and I are siblings.”

“You do look quite similar,” remarked (Y/N).

“People often mistake us for a couple,” continued Toru.

(Y/N) made a weirded-out face. Ew.

“Wait…your Kokomi’s…?” Saiki’s parents were surprised.

“Toru Mugami is my stage name,” explained the idol, “My real name is Makoto Teruhashi. Kokomi is worried that Kusuo and (Y/N) got the wrong idea, so I came to explain it to them. I’m lucky (Y/N) was here and not at their home.”

“I wonder why she’s worried, right?” Mr. Saiki still believed Teruhashi was his New Year’s wish for Saiki come true.

There are much better options for me, Dad. Saiki wasn’t really sure what those options he kept thinking of were, but the word kept coming.

Mrs. Saiki noticed the time. “Ah! I have to make dinner.” She and Mr. Saiki walked out of the room.

“Your parents sure are cheerful,” chuckled Makoto as they left. “Oh, that’s right. I have one more message for you.” He faced Saiki. “This one is from me. Could you hear me out?”

(Y/N) looked between them and sipped their water to avoid feeling too awkward.

“Stay away from my sister, you stupid piece of trash.”

(Y/N) spit out the water in surprise.

“And stop drawing other innocent people into your schemes!”

Confused, (Y/N) tilted their head.

“I don’t know if you’re my beloved Kokomi’s classmate or what, but don’t push your luck, you little snot,” said Makoto. “She’s out of your league, you worthless four-eyes.” He looked at (Y/N). “And you!”

They pointed at themself awkwardly. “Um, yeah?”

“Don’t get trapped by this perv who clearly wants a harem!” declared Makoto.

(Y/N) nearly died on the spot.

“I don’t want that at all.”

“Then, you at least want my Kokomi! And I won’t allow it! You’re a fly on dog droppings!” sneered Makoto.

“I never knew that was such a popular analogy…” mumbled (Y/N).

“Don’t start using it.”

“Do you think you have a chance?” questioned Makoto scornfully.

“Nope, not thinking that,” answered Saiki frankly.

“Since you see her every day and can even say hi to her, you probably think that you’ll get married after a long courtship, right?” rambled Makoto.

“Not thinking that, either.”

“This is really detailed…” commented (Y/N). “It’s pretty concerning.”

“Stop dreaming, you scum,” said Makoto.

“I said I’m not, didn’t I?”

“She’s such a pretty girl. It’s just natural that you’re drawn to her just like hyenas to dead flesh,” said Makoto.

“In that analogy, Teruhashi is dead flesh.”

(Y/N) stifled a laugh.

“Kokomi isn’t just a pretty girl!” declared Makoto. “She’s a masterpiece created by God!”

“I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“So the only one who’s suitable for Kokomi is me!” Makoto pointed to himself.

Saiki, and even ever-bubbly (Y/N), turned blank.

“What the heck is he talking about?”

“That’s just wrong,” said (Y/N), staring at Makoto. They were deeply disturbed

Even (Y/N) doesn’t like him. That meant Makoto was truly terrible.

“Your just her classmate,” continued the weird boy, “I’ve been by her side since she was born!”

“Yeah…because you’re siblings,” pointed out Saiki.

(Y/N) nodded, their face showing their growing concern (and disgust) for the state of Makoto’s mind.

“The one who’ll marry my sister is me!” cried Makoto.

“I see. So he’s a perv.”

(Y/N) shuddered. “Gross, gross, gross.” They edged behind Saiki slightly.

“I’ll never have some filthy nobody have my Kokomi!” Makoto had crazed eyes. “The only one who can lay their hands on her is me, her brother!”

How did his parents let him get this bad?

“Ahhh, Kokomi! I love you more than anyone else in the world does!” declared Makoto.

“Obsession doesn’t begin to cover this…” muttered (Y/N) uncomfortably.

“Don’t you ever get near my Kokomi,” sneered Makoto to Saiki, “Don’t try to make a harem with her and this teenager. Don’t even look her. In fact, don’t even breathe the same air she does.”

“Yare yare.”

Suddenly, they all heard a knock at the Saiki household’s front door. It gave (Y/N) and Saiki the perfect opportunity to escape the stifling room. They stood, but before they reached the door, Teruhashi herself opened the door.

“Kokomi?” exclaimed Makoto.

“What’re you doing here?” asked a frenzied Teruhashi.

“Wow, she easily figured out where he was,” remarked (Y/N).

Actually, I called her here.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” repeated Teruhashi.

“Well, you were worried that Saiki and (L/N) got the wrong idea, right?” said Makoto, smiling innocently.

“What…? I didn’t tell you that…How did you…,” stammered Teruhashi.

“I always know what you’re thinking,” said Makoto. “You no longer have to worry about it. I explained anything.”

“I-I see. I’m gla— What?” she cried. Does that mean Saiki knows I was worried he got the wrong idea?!

She really isn’t concerned about (Y/N).

Makoto continued, “I’m always—.”

“Why…” said Teruhashi lowly. “Why did you have to stick your nose into this?! I hate you, big brother!”

Makoto’s world collapsed around him.

“Will he leave now?” said (Y/N), peering down at Makoto and poking him with their shoe in distaste.

“I hope so.”

(Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief.

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